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chososprettygirl

⡴ gym teacher!sukuna has an embarrassingly known crush on school nurse!reader

lowkey wanna turn this into a full oneshot

if he heard one more twelve year old’s squeaky voice whispering to one another, saying he’s ‘got a crush on the school nurse’ he swears he’s gonna write up the whole grade.

god, it’s even worse when one of the eighth grade girls come up to him when he’s on lunch duty.

“mr., mr. ! did you know the nurse mentioned she likes tall guys when i went into her room for a tylenol !”

“what does that have to do with me ?” he grumbles, scrunching his face while the girl and her friend stare up at him.

“well everyone knows you like like her—”

“GO SIT DOWN!”

he swears the whole lunchroom conveniently goes quiet when he yells that as the girls squirm away back to their tables and start whispering around gossip.

and even worse than the girls that draw hearts around you and sukuna’s staff photos next to eachother in the main office, he’s got gojo. gojo, who ships you two and nags him like worse-than a middle school girl. gojo, who shoves you two together for any school event.

“what game do you have planned for tomorrow?” you ask, leaning over to whisper to sukuna as eighth grade awards are called for each subject, timing claps inbetween your words while names are called. you smirk, “how many kids am i gonna have sent my way next time?”

“just dodgeball.” he leans down to whisper flatly against your ear, still staring down a kid giggling in the seating rows of the auditorium and effectively getting him to stop with his gaze.

“your version of dodgeball is basically to the death, i might have to have paramedics in my room on standby.” you joke, turning to smile at him so sweetly. in his mind, this counts as him making you laugh and therefore counts as a win.

he chuckles lightly, just a quick huff of his chest, but essentially the hardest he can laugh if he’s not looking at a kid getting tackled in class. “these kids will toughen up eventually, i am just teaching them to do it early.”

“were you a weak kid that needed to toughen up? i can really only picture you as a big scary dude.”

“i was actually a severely malnourished child due to my mothers impoverished state during her pregnancy.“ he says, truly not realizing how solemn he sounds in his voice even as he means it as a light hearted jest.

you blink at him, face contorted in confusion and awkwardness. he wants to hit himself.

the only thing that saves him from not saying anything stupid again is the end of the assembly, marked by gojo yelling into a megaphone and for kids to round up by homeroom.

the following week he’s still embarrassed to even look you in the eyes. he’s mulling over how stupid he must’ve looked infront of you while sifting through the equipment closet.

he hears steps echo throughout the currently empty gym before he yells out.

“gojo i’m not covering your lunch break, fuck off—” he turns around to not see the usual suspect he finds during his free period. instead, he sees you, leaning against the door in scrubs and white coat clinging to your body. he stills in his motion.

you speak before he can (if he can speak at all in his embarrassed state).

“i understand the confusion, he bothers me all the time too.” you dismiss, smiling at him with your glossed lips he probably thinks about hourly. waitwaitwait, gojo talks to you all the time ? he’s going to kill that lanky fuck. “just wanted to drop these off for yuri in your next period.” you jostle around a pill bottle in your hand, “she can get fainty on gym days so give these to her just in case to help prevent that.” he knows it’s your job and all, but your concern is honestly kinda cute.

“uhh yeah i’ll be sure to.” he nods, right as you drop the bottle on top of a stack of rubber cones by the door before you walk out. and he would just like it to be known he definitely didn’t stare at your ass as you left.

and he typically makes it easier for himself to deny how down bad he is to you, but now, after you spent a week of saved up sick days out last week, he’s kind of craving your voice. so who can blame him when he calls his 6th grade nephew into his office while he’s supposed to be at lunch.

“look, kid. i’m going to need you to do something, and i’m gonna need you to not be annoying about it, kay?”

yuji furrows his brows, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie.

“you,” he gestures to his nephew, “are going to act like you collapsed and let me bring you up to the school nurse. you are then going to be quiet when i talk to her.”

“is it cause you have a crush on her—”

sukuna tenses before cutting him off.

“do a good job acting and i will consider buying you that human earthworm blu-ray. do you hear me, brat?”

yuji’s eyes light up at the mention of the dvd.

“is this impression good enough then?” yuji leans and clutches at his side in fake fatigue while moaning dramatically for help, then immediately straightens up with a smile like he’s waiting for a rating. sukuna shakes his head and genuinely wonders how he’s related to this—in sukuna’s words— pea brained doofus.

he dials your number on his offices phone, sitting tense in his chair while he shh’s yuji. yuji nods and salutes as sukuna continues to roll his eyes.

yuji could’ve sworn he saw him smile when you pick up. he continues to watch sukuna fiddle with the curled wire of the phone as he explains yuji’s apparently dire situation. he can just barely hear the muffled sound of you saying ‘just bring him up and i’ll check him out.” over the speaker of the phone before sukuna hangs up and fixes his hair.

sukuna walks out the door and desperately tries to ignore yuji’s terrible post fainting impression behind him as his nephew follows his step to your room.

just before they step into your room he whispers to yuji as he leans over.

“if you can bring up me being single i’ll take you out for ice cream, brat.”

ignore typos i was too lazy to fix any

kora-kiroshi

Art from to00fu! ✦.cw : stalking, toxic dynamics, sex

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna seeing you for the first time at that trashy frat party. His eyes are locked on you from across the room, his knuckles white as he grips his red solo cup, completely losing his mind the second he clocks you.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna walking up to you with that cocky, arrogant smirk that usually works every damn time. He tries to pressure you into going upstairs to his room right then and there, but you hit him with such an ice-cold, disgusted look that his ego practically shatters. You just turn your back on him, leaving him standing there looking like a fucking clown.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna trying to save face by circling back with a fresh drink for you, but you don’t even spare him a glance. You step around him like he’s just another piece of trash in the hallway, and he’s left feeling like a total loser, watching your back as you walk away.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna spending the rest of the night pretending to listen to his bros bragging about football, but in reality, he’s tracking your every move. He doesn’t even realize how much of a creep he looks, neck craned awkwardly just to keep you in sight.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna watching you laugh at some other guy’s joke. A sick, stinging envy curls in his chest, making him want to howl.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna waking up the next morning with a pounding head, but he doesn't give a shit about the hangover. You’re the only thing consuming his thoughts.

juvianism

geto in my style

torupng

❝ HATE ME ❞ .ᐟ

゛★ rival ! sukuna ryomen hates your guts.

headcanons .ᐟ ⋆ #rival/modern kuna ⋆ enemies but not to lovers ⋆ rivals with benefits ⋆ sukuna actually hates you ⋆ goes to uni with reader ⋆ light smut ⋆ sfw + nsfw art by naomiiocha

chapter 1 !

ⓘ ABOUT RIVAL ! SUKUNA ﾒ sfw

rival!sukuna ryomen who has a deeply ingrained morning routine that borders on ritualistic. up at 5:30 am every single day because sleeping in is "lazy" and he refuses to be anything but efficient. despite all that, he’s still grumpy as ever.

rival!sukuna ryomen who is actually a really good cook. not because he enjoys it—he considers it more of a chore than anything—but because he refuses to eat mediocre food. he'll never cook for you. not because he doesn't want to, but because if he did, you'd have ammunition. you’d know something about him and he’s not a big fan of that.

rival!sukuna ryomen who lifts weights 4 times a week. he likes knowing his body can do whatever he asks of it.

rival!sukuna ryomen who smokes. not cigarettes, but cigars on rare occasions. usually after something particularly stressful, like finals week or particularly rough sex with you. he tells himself it’s just something to take the edge off.

rival!sukuna ryomen who reads a lot. he has a well-worn copy of meditations by marcus aurelius that he's annotated to hell, along with piles of philosophy books and legal textbooks. he reads fiction sometimes, but only dark, violent stuff. his favorite novel is american psycho and he unironically thinks patrick batemen was “right about everything except the music.”

rival!sukuna ryomen who has a very complicated relationship with his tattoos. he got the markings on his face and body when he turned 18, a form of rebellion against his extremely traditional family. his parents disowned him temporarily and he claimed that he didn’t care—no one knows anything about it. he gets them touched up every few years, same designs, same artist.

rival!sukuna ryomen who can’t sleep unless the room being completely dark. he wakes up startled almost all the time. you learned this the hard way after sharing a bed for the first time. you accidentally nudged him at 3 and almost got your arm broken. he just mumbled "don't touch me" and went back to sleep. you never brought it up because that would be like poking a very angry bear.

rival!sukuna ryomen who has one photo on his nightstand—a candid shot of him and his younger brother who looks a lot like him from years ago. he never talks about his family. he never mentions his brother.

rival!sukuna ryomen who secretly lovesss cats. it’s the most embarrassing thing about him. he saw a stray kitten once on campus, a tiny, scruffy thing that was shivering in the cold, and he spent 2 hours trying to coax it out from under a car. he eventually gave up and left food, water, and his jacket. he still checks on that spot sometimes, just in case the cat came back but it never did and he’s weirdly sad about it.

rival!sukuna ryomen who has an extensive vinyl collection. not the performative kind—he actually listens to them. his apartment has a modest setup, and he spends evenings spinning records from the 70s and 80s. punk, metal, some old-school jazz. he inherited most of it from his grandpa, and it's the only family connection he actually cherishes.

rival!sukuna ryomen has a resting bitch face so intimidating that freshmen actively avoid him. he’s been called "scary," "intimidating," and "the guy who looks like he can rip your head off." he’s aware and fine with it. he doesn’t want people knowing that he's actually just tired and a little bit socially awkward beneath the aggression.

rival!sukuna ryomen who is actually really good with his hands. not just for sex—although that's certainly a perk—but for practical things. he can fix almost anything. broken faucets? done. car broke down? sure. clogged sink? cleared in ten minutes. learned it from his grandpa.

rival!sukuna ryomen who doesn’t celebrate his birthday. he simply just doesn’t see the point. another year of existing?… congrats? He'd rather just skip the whole thing. you didn't know his birthday for the first two years. you found out accidentally, but it’s not like you’re gonna wish the bastard a happy birthday.

rival!sukuna ryomen who has nightmares. not often, but often enough. he never remembers any of them clearly—just flickers of something cold and dark, a weight on his chest, a feeling of falling. he wakes up drenched in sweat, heart pounding, and spends the next hour staring at his ceiling until his body remembers how to breathe.

rival!sukuna ryomen who is pathetically, deeply lonely. he’ll never say it or even think it consciously. but under everything there's a void. something’s that's been there since his childhood. the sex helps. the rivalry helps. the academic victories help. but it’s always there and he hates it.

rival!sukuna ryomen who hates that you're the only person who comes close to filling that void. he fucking hates it more than anything. because if you're the one who makes him feel less empty, then he's dependent on you. and he's never been dependent on anyone.

rival!sukuna ryomen who would rather hate you for the rest of his life than love you for even a second.

rival!sukuna ryomen who looks at you sometimes, when you're not paying attention, and wonders if you feel the same way. but he’ll never ask—not his cup of tea at all. too vulnerable.

rival!sukuna ryomen whose never once called you by your actual name. It's always some insulting pet name delivered with maximum contempt. he knows your name. he just refuses to use it because giving you that level of recognition would mean admitting you're somewhat memorable.

rival!sukuna ryomen whose never once asked if you're okay after sex. he just doesn’t care like that. most he’ll do is shove a glass of water at you without and maybe mutter something about you "being annoying when you're dehydrated."

rival!sukuna ryomen who lowkey can’t stand when other guys look at you. it’s not jealousy because well… he'd never admit to something so pathetic. it’s territorial. you’re his rival. his problem. nobody else gets to have that particular brand of hatred with you.

rival!sukuna ryomen who genuinely finds you annoying 90% of the time. the other 10% he finds you tolerable. he chalks it up to the sex. he hates that there are moments—brief, fleeting moments—where he almost enjoys your company. like when you're both too exhausted to fight and just exist in the same space. mostly in bed.

rival!sukuna ryomen who scoffs at the idea of romance. lovesick fools. all that soft, sentimental bullshit. he wants none of it. But if you ever needed him—like really needed him—he'd show up. albeit begrudgingly. he’d never say why or ask for thanks.

rival!sukuna ryomen who genuinely believes he hates you. and maybe he does. but that hatred has become so intertwined with lust that he can't tell the difference anymore. all he knows is that you're the only person who makes him feel anything at all and that he’s unfortunately addicted to it.

ⓘ ABOUT RIVAL ! SUKUNA ﾒ nsfw mdni

rival!sukuna ryomen who makes a point to one-up you in everything. you got an A on an exam? he got an A+. you got a compliment from a professor? he got a research assistant offer. you made him come so hard he saw stars? he’ll make sure you come harder just to prove he's better. It's all a competition to him, and he intends to win every single round.

rival!sukuna ryomen who insists that the sex is purely transactional. "we both have needs," he'll say, "and we're both too insufferable to find anyone else who'll put up with us."

rival!sukuna ryomen who gets off on the hatred. the sex is never tender or soft. every kiss is a bite. every touch is a claim. he wants to hear you insult him while he's inside you. he wants you to scratch, bite, fight back. the moment you go pliant and submissive is the moment he loses interest.

rival!sukuna ryomen who talks a lot. constantly. it’s a running stream of filthy, degrading commentary that would make even a porn star blush. "look at you. taking it so well for someone who claims to hate me." "you’re so fucking tight. tryna’ rip my dick off, huh." "say my name. say it like you mean it. don’t pretend you don't want to." he lives for the sounds you make—the gasps, the moans, the broken curses that slip out despite your best efforts.

rival!sukuna ryomen who edges you relentlessly. he brings you right to the edge, watches your face contort with desperation, and then pulls back just to hear you whimper knowing you’d never beg because it’s beneath you. he’ll do it three, four, five times until you're practically sobbing with frustration, clawing at his back and finally begging for release. only then does he let you come. And when you do, he doesn't stop. he fucks you through it, overstimulated and shaking, because he wants, more than anything, to see you break.

rival!sukuna ryomen who leaves marks. bite marks on your neck and shoulders, finger-shaped bruises on your hips and thighs. he likes knowing he could leave these kinds of marks on the one person who hates him.

rival!sukuna ryomen who’s good at using his mouth. not just for talking but for everything. he’ll kiss down your body, teeth grazing sensitive skin, tongue tracing your collarbone, your stomach, your inner thighs. he’ll go down on you without warning, no preamble, just his mouth on you and his hands holding your hips down so you can't squirm away. he’s infuriatingly good at it.

rival!sukuna ryomen who has a thing for your neck. he'll spend minutes just mouthing at the junction where it meets your shoulder, biting, sucking, leaving marks that take weeks to fade. he likes the vulnerability of it—the fact that your throat is exposed and you're trusting him not to actually hurt you. it plays into his power kink.

rival!sukuna ryomen who is obnoxiously vocal. he groans, growls, grunts. he’s not shy about letting you know when something feels good. but the best sounds (the ones that turn you on most) are the ones he can't control. the sharp intake of breath when you clench around him. the choked moan when you scratch down his back. the way his voice pitches when he's close. he’d deny it if you brought it up. but you know what you heard.

rival!sukuna ryomen who doesn't do aftercare. not normally, at least. no cuddling, no reassurances, no soft touches. he’ll shove a glass of water at you, toss you a towel, and then lie on his back staring at the ceiling. his way of caring is making sure you're hydrated and then pretending you don't exist for the rest of the night.

rival!sukuna ryomen who has stamina for days. he can go multiple rounds without breaking a sweat, and he expects you to keep up. if you ever tap out, he'll call you weak and make fun of you for it, but he'll spare you and settle for whatever amount of rounds you’d already gone.

rival!sukuna ryomen who cannot handle you on top. it’s not that he doesn't like it—he loves watching you ride him, the view is… well, incredible—but it's a loss of control that makes his skin crawl. he’ll let you do it for maybe two minutes before he flips you over and takes back the reigns. he needs to be in charge and it’s practically non-negotiable.

rival!sukuna ryomen who secretly takes pictures of the marks you leave on him after you’re gone. he’ll snap a mirror pic of his back—completely littered in scratches—some still fresh and bleeding, others already healing fast. something about being marked by you turns him on and he hates how embarrassing it is for him.

rival!sukuna ryomen who is utterly and completely fucked. you’ve single handedly ruined sex for him—he’s unable to seek pleasure in anyone that isn’t you or the thought of you and nothing pisses him off more than that. it’s to the point where he can’t even get it up anymore. other girls and guys are boring—no one fucks him like you do. like they want him dead.

•18+ Adults Only

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iheartyuyu

you met sukuna at the first year of university.

first day, first lecture, actually. he stepped in late, and the only empty seat left was beside you. you both stared at the professor in pure, utterly confused silence, question marks probably floating on top of your heads as you tried to gather anything. after five minutes, you simply turned and asked him to let you pass so you could leave.

he grabbed his stuff, joining you. he asked if you wanted to grab coffee, and that’s how it all started.

three years later, you were the untouchable sukuna ryomen’s girlfriend. your relationship was private, no one knew any details (it wasn’t like anyone would dare to ask sukuna, especially with the way his resting face was a terrifying glare to everyone else) and you two preferred it that way.

no one knew the details. no one knew how sukuna was deeply and utterly smitten— the scowling, terrifying, muscular 6’4 man turning immediately into lovesick puppy for you. clingy, needy, obsessed, your guard dog of a boyfriend never ever let you doubt his love. he always made it clear, whether it was his arm’s wrapped around you every chance he got, or him spamming your phone whenever you weren’t around, using any excuse to talk to you, or the way he dropped everything for you, making it clear you were his first priority, or the way he listened intensely to every word that left your mouth and noticed everything about you— which showed when he referenced your words from months ago, or bought you gifts you didn’t even mention, or could tell you weren’t okay from a single glance.

it really was not a lie that sukuna ryomen loved you. he knew it. you knew it. his frat knew it. everyone that really knew sukuna knew he loved you.

which was why the break up broke you.

that night didn’t even seem real. he had ignored you for a total of three days, replying to your texts dryly, which was already odd. then, he showed to to your place in the middle of the night, jaw clenched, eye bags dark, like he hasn’t slept in days. he didn’t elaborate, didn’t explain— simply told you he was tired, that he couldn’t do this anymore, and walked away.

like he didn’t just ruin you. like you two weren’t discussing your shared future a few days ago. like you two hadn’t already agreed what stupid fucking roses you wanted at your wedding. like he hasn’t kissed you so softly just a few days ago, murmuring soft pleads for you to never leave him.

to make it worse, he didn’t disappear after. he attended your shared lectures as usual— sitting behind you, always behind you, like he needed to keep you in his vision. he left your notifications on, which you knew because he remained the first to view every story until you blocked him. he kept going to your favorite cafe beside campus (he didn’t even like their coffee) at the exact same time you always did, his sad eyes set on you, buying a single water bottle each time, until you stopped going. you even had to stop going to the library late at night, because he would always be there, blank notebooks open as he pathetically pretended to focus when his eyes wouldn’t leave you alone. even late at night, when you would scroll through your chats, you would see his bubble. tying. erasing. there.

it was worse, because it was obvious that he still loved you.

it made you want to scream, really. it would have been better if he just… pretended you didn’t exist. ignored you. blocked you first. flirted with girls in your vision. did anything to make you feel like he didn’t care anymore. like he didn’t give a fuck, so you could move on. so you wouldn’t get the stupid urge to show up to his place and ask him what the fuck his issue was. so you could hate him.

but again, unfortunately for you, sukuna was never good at hiding his love for you.

it was going to be okay, though. because sukuna already broke it up, and moving on was clearly the only good solution. it wasn’t like he will ever come back, anywa—

bzzz.

dilf420: bro. ur fucking bf is sulking and ruining my party. can you come pick his drunk ass up. ill pay u.

you blinked once at the notification, then twice, then immediately opened it. you really should have blocked the whole frat.

you: broke up. no longer my bf. also, ur broke.

toji replied immediately.

dilf420: idc that u two broke up he’s drunk and blabbering about missing his fucking wife come pick his ass up

you stared at the dm blankly, eyes staring at the words like it would disappear if you blinked.

his fucking wife.

your throat felt dry. heart physically hurting, like someone’s fingers were digging into the muscle and squeezing it the way sukuna used to squeeze your fingers before kissing each knuckle. it hurt, so much, your vision slowly blurring the longer you stared at the three words.

on the other side of the phone, sukuna was pressed against toji, shoving his face into the cracked screen, face flushed from the alcohol, lips almost pouting, hair messy from running his hands through it so many times. “is she answerin’?” he muttered, voice slurred. “my pretty wife, is she comin’?”

toji sighed. “nah, man. she left me on read. you’re so fucked.”

sukuna groaned, stumbling slightly before he was leaning on the wall, eyes shut in pure devastation. “she hates me. what if she doesn’t wanna get back?”

“…you showed up at three in the morning and broke up with her without giving her a reason, bro. on gojo’s soul, she does not want to get back.”

it was silent for a few seconds before a quiet sniffle echoed in the room, and toji’s head snapped to the untouchable, scary figure sliding down the wall, face buried into his hands, shoulders trembling. toji’s eyes widened briefly, but sukuna grunted, the sound shaky. “not a fucking word.”

the next monday, you were still recovering from toji’s dm as you slid into your morning, 8:30 am lecture. you were half-asleep, buried in sweatpants and a hoodie, hood up in an attempt to hide from the world. your eyes were drooping sleepily, head slowly slipping from where your head rested on your palm, the tip of your pen slowly seeping ink into the paper.

someone slides beside you, and you freeze. you knew that cologne. you bought that cologne.

you didn’t move a muscle, shoulders tense, eyes suddenly focused as they stared ahead. you could feel his gaze, his thigh pressing against yours in the annoyingly small seats. you could feel the heat from his skin, even from the thick fabric of your sweatpants.

…what the fuck was he doing?

your jaw clenched, before you took a quiet deep breath, convincing yourself he must have not looked properly when picking a seat. it takes a few minutes, but you’re finally able to focus back on your professor again, ignoring the way you could feel his gaze shifting to you ever few seconds.

“…i’m sorry.”

you sucked in a sharp, annoyed breath, gaze still ahead, fingers tightening around the pen in your grasp, eyes unamused. he slowly placed a cup on your desk— your favorite coffee, from your favorite cafe. you froze, and you could see him wincing from your peripheral vision.

“…give me a chance explain, please?”

you carefully pushed yourself up, grabbing your bag and notebook, and silently stepped out of the hall. outside, toji was standing, a sigh on his lips as he caught up with you despite how you only spared him an annoyed glare.

“he loves you, you know that.” toji murmured. “give him a chance to explain.”

“no.” you muttered. “he’s a coward who left me without an explanation. now he wants to give me one?”

toji grimaced. “that wasn’t his brightest moments, but… come on, he’s your sukuna.”

“he made it clear he’s not.”

that night, you were dragged to one of their parties, curtesy of gojo begging you to show with tears and snot running down his face, using a lame excuse about how everyone in the frat misses you. you didn’t buy it, but you had to stop the embarrassingly loud bawling boy on your doorstep.

now, you sat in their kitchen, perched on the counter, an overly sweet drink between your fingers, and a staring ex-boyfriend on the other side.

sukuna was sulking.

eyes set on you, lips pursed, arms crossed— he ignored everyone who stared at him just so he could keep his eyes on you. geto and nanami sighed as they passed, geto offering him a bottle casually, and sukuna grabbed it, eyes still on you before he tilted his head back and drowned half the bottle down, only stopping when nanami pulled it back while snapping about expensive liquor.

the thing about sukuna? he was a lightweight, and an emotional drunk. that usually manifested in a shorter temper when he wasn’t with you, and him being unbelievably clingy with you, and now, a few hours after gulping random drinks down?

it manifested in him dragging himself to stand in front of you, lips wobbling and eyes tearful, looking like a kicked puppy instead of the frat bro everyone was terrified off. “baby…”

you hated how your own heart clenched, fingers digging into your palm to prevent yourself from cooing at him and tugging him into your hold safely. you only narrowed your eyes at him, and his eyes glossed even more. he opened his mouth, probably to beg, only to halt dangerously.

you, unfortunately, knew him too well. you let out a loud groan, quickly jumping off and dragging him to an empty bathroom upstairs, shutting the door just in time for him to drop to his knees and empty his stomach out into the toilet. he let out a choked sob between retches, and you sighed, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, a hand slowly rubbing his back. “dumbass.”

“i miss you so much,” he immediately whimpered, eyes shut painfully. “i miss you so, so, much. please, angel, forgive me, please— i want you back, i need you back, ‘m a stupid son of a bitch for every breaking it off, i need you in my life, please—“

he was interrupted with another gag, and you sighed, resuming to rub his back as he continued, your own vision blurry, heart shattering at the broken sob he let out once he was done.

“breathe.” you murmured softly. “come on, kuna, breathe for me. you can do that, yeah?”

“no,” he choked out. “i can’t— can’t even breathe without you, baby. please, please, forgive me for being a dumb idiot, i need my wife back, please—“

“if you breathe now, and we can talk tomorrow.”

it was almost humorous how he immediately straightened up, red, watery eyes wide, nose red and cheeks flushed from the alcohol. you sighed, reaching over to wipe his tears away, and he let out a pathetic whine, immediately leaning into your touch. you finally helped him up, forcing him to brush his teeth before you opened the door, quietly leading him into his room.

inside, he immediately flopped into bed, tired, sad eyes staring up at you. “you’ll… talk to me, right? please, baby?”

“tomorrow,” you murmured, throwing him a pair of shorts. “just sleep now, okay?”

he nodded frantically, eyes shutting quickly, obediently.

no one would believe this was the version of sukuna ryomen you knew— now when everyone else got the loud, short-tempered, rude, asshole version of him. you stared at him softly, watching his breathe even out, eyes fluttering shut, before you sighed softly, and stepped out of his room.

the next morning, you woke up to sukuna in front of your door, hair messy and eyes exhausted, yet holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers and your favorite coffee, the other messily trying to adjust his shirt to look more presentable. the second you opened your door, eyes sleepy and hair messily, lips pulled into a frown, he froze.

red eyes widened softly before his body relaxed, eyes softening, and breathed out slowly. “…hi.”

you reluctantly opened the door wider, letting him in. he stepped in, 6’4 solid figure suddenly seeming small, gently setting the items down, hands that are used to throwing punches leaning down to carefully adjust a delicate petal before he straightened up, eyes falling back on you, so full of unsaid emotions that they were already glossing over.

after a few seconds, he swallowed harshly, throat bobbing before he took a step closer. “i missed you.”

you frowned, eyes narrowing. “why did you break up, sukuna?”

“please,” he choked out the second the name escaped your lips, eyes wide in pure devastation. “please, angel. ryo, kuna, baby, pretty boy— anything but that.”

your frown deepened. he let out a defeated, shaky breath, and stepped even closer. “i broke it because i was a fucking idiot. i… i never loved someone so much, angel, i never cared about someone so much. you made me the happiest person alive, and… i knew you deserved better.”

you froze. he sniffled, taking another step closer, eyes desperately and voice breaking. “angel, i… i’m a selfish, possessive asshole, and you deserve someone perfect. i was so scared that you’ll wake up one day and end it, so i… just did.”

your vision clouded with tears, and he dropped to his knees, eyes wet with unshed tears. “i was a stupid, fucking idiot. i should have stayed, talked to you, got the reassurance i know my angel would give me, but i didn’t want to be selfish… i thought i was doing what’s best for you…”

he let his head drop, face falling to press against your abdomen, a loud, pained whimper escaping him. “turns out i was a fucking idiot for ever considering letting you go. i… i have been miserable, angel, bawled my fucking eyes out an embarrassing amount of times. i miss you so much, baby, i can’t— i can’t live with you. i can’t sleep, eat, breathe,” he gasped, hands trembling as they slowly reached to hold into your waist, and let out a louder sob once his fingers touched your body, tears soaking your shirt. “i need you in my life, angel. please, i can’t live without you. my heart only exists to beat for you. i was a fucking moron to ever think about letting you go. you deserve so much better— and i promise, ‘ll be better. i’ll be a better boyfriend, a better partner, a better everything— just, give me a chance,”

you sniffled. the second you did, his head snapped up, eyes wide and tearful and horrified, and he immediately shot to his feet, ignoring his own soaked face as gentle fingers slowly cupped your cheek, wiping your tears away. “please don’t cry, i can’t handle you being upset, please—“

“you idiot.” you finally whispered. he froze, eyes wide and pained, and you only stepped closer, letting your head drop into his chest. his arms immediately wrapped around you, pulling you until no space existed between you both. “are you stupid?”

“i am. i’m sorry, baby,” he whispered back. “i’m so sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m—“

“shut up.” you croaked out. “you’re an idiot. i love you as you are, you asshole.”

“i know, baby. i’m sorry.” he buried his face into your neck, his tears damping your shirt once more. “i’m never leaving you again, angel. not even physically— i’ll be so clingy you’ll get sick of me. i can’t live without you, i’m sorry, i’m sorry.”

you let him hold you, eyes shut tiredly. “…idiot.”

he let out a sharp laugh, holding you even tighter, pressing wet kisses all over your face until a smile broke on your pretty lips, and you could physically feel him finally breathing normally, still pressing kisses to your face, gentle and needy and desperate. “i know, angel. only an idiot would ever walk away from you. never, ever again. i love you. never, ever again. i’ll marry you, my love. never leaving you again.”

a/n i hate tumblr i had to write this three times </3 anyways hi ^^ still obsessed w these headers…

f-tality0

🚬 break

Can’t waitt for next chapter of without a trace

AHHH I FEEL SO BAD FOR THE LONG WAIT SORRY BAE LOVE YALL TYSM FOR THE COMMENTS AND KUDOS IM FORCING MYSELF TO START WRITING🥹🥹

i’m hoping to update talk to me and without a trace SOON<33 (ignoring the dooming fact that i have not started writing either of them..)

#tyygr streak #without a trace tyygr

iheartyuyu

[very strong suicidal themes and strong topics. can not stress enough these warnings, reader is suicidal. v strong self projection... english isn’t my first language.]

the first time you ever had a proper conversation with sukuna ryomen, he saved your life.

that day was supposed to be your last, really. you had everything planned— letters written, belongings labeled with who to give them to, a plan in mind, and no doubt in your heart on what you were going to do.

you had nothing left.

your family would move on. your friends were already so busy, which would help. they would be distracted and they would move on, too. nothing in the world would stop, the world would continue spinning, and you were just so, utterly tired. you didn’t care about ‘being selfish’, all you cared about was just how badly you needed everything to stop.

you were just so tired.

too tired, in fact, to focus on anything as you walked into the roof of a frat party, deciding to enjoy one last party before you could finally rest. the roof was surprisingly empty, and you stood near the edge, leaning on the ledge quietly, eyes down on everyone partying downstairs, laughing and dancing and enjoying their best years.

the view was slowly becoming more blurry, your eyes glossing over with tears, taking a quiet, shaky breath, mourning the happiness you failed to ever achieve.

just then, the roof door slammed open, a loud groan echoing. “fucking choso always giving people the key. hey, you.”

you glanced over, gaze blank, vision cloudy with tears that you forced not to drop, and you paused. you could identify the tan, pink-haired frat president even with your vision blurry— fuck, probably even with your eyes shut.

sukuna ryomen was known.

the usual cliché frat president, really. a heartless asshole who’s great in bed, with a burning hot temper and knuckles that are always bruised with strangers’ faces to match. although, he definitely was prettier than any guy you had ever seen— not that it mattered, really, you never cared enough to focus on pretty guys when your first priority was to survive, but he was easy on the eyes.

for some reason, the 6’4 football player froze as soon as your eyes met. you only blinked blankly, barely able to properly see him, lack of lights on the roof and tears not helping the slightest. you sniffled, praying your voice doesn’t crack as you spoke. “sorry, am i not supposed to be here?”

he was frozen for a few more seconds, then frowned. “you’re in my monday class.”

you blinked, not expecting him to recognize you, before slowly nodding, not trusting your voice to not shake if you spoke again, he stared at you for a while longer, before walking over, leaning on the ledge beside you.

you didn’t care enough to overthink it, really, not enough to even think twice about why the life of the party was on the roof beside you instead of doing a line of shots downstairs. instead, you resumed staring at the party downstairs, trying to enjoy the last few hours—

“i don’t know you that well, but,” sukuna murmured, voice low. you blinked once, thanking the darkness for concealing the tears that finally dropped, keeping your gaze ahead as he sighed. you expected him to say something shallow, irrelevant— the kind of stuff frat boys spew to random girls on rooftops. “give it another try.”

you blinked, mind going blank for a moment. you were quiet for a beat, eyebrows slowly furrowing in confusion, because there was simply no way he was saying what you thought he was. “…what?”

“give it another try.” he grunted, voice low, serious. “one year ago, i was standing on this stupid roof with those exact tired, hopeless eyes and coming up with a plan because i wanted everything to stop. now ‘m fucking thriving.”

you froze, quiet and silent, heart beating too loud that you couldn’t hear your own thoughts anymore. sukuna kept getting blurrier, but you saw his head move to look at you before he sighed loudly. “…i’m not going to do anything, not even stop you. but, i know exactly how you feel, and i’m promising you, it really does get so much fucking better.”

“…bullshit,” you mumbled. your voice was quiet, hissed between gasps that were a pathetic attempt not to cry. he only hummed, quiet.

“i would have answered that way, too.” he muttered, voice quieter. “funny, isn’t it?”

you didn’t answer. you kept staring straight ahead, and sniffled. after a few quiet minutes, you breathed out, trying not to bawl in front of the stranger in your class. “…what stopped you?”

he let out a faint chuckle. it sounded sad.

“…you.” he muttered. you turned to him this time, utterly confused, no longer caring about the tears streaming down your face and how much of a mess you definitely looked. if he was looking at you in disgust, you definitely wouldn’t have noticed through the tears, anyways. his voice remained almost gentle, though. “that was the semester i never forgot to bring a fucking pen with me. everyday i showed up, and no one had an extra one, and i had to go get one from outside the fucking room. then, that day, i showed up, and you had two. you got one for me, a stranger, and i realized that maybe i wasn’t as invisible and meaningless as i felt.”

your breath halted, body freezing, tears flowing even faster. you could feel the neckline if your hoodie soaked with tears from how long you had been crying, but it barely registered in your mind when sukuna was casually mentioning that the reason he stood alive in front of you today was because you brought him a fucking pen. your eyes were wide, lips wobbling as they parted wordlessly, and you could finally make out the faint, sad smile on his lips.

“i just planned to raincheck it, you know. couldn’t let your pens go to waste. but, by the time the semester ended, i felt... better. i remember fucking laughing then, because holy fucking shit, it really does get better.” he stated calmly, reaching over, warm fingers wiping your tears in a way rhat was so nonchalant that it almost made you laugh. “so, trust me, i know how it feels. gets really fucking better.”

“…what if it doesn’t?” you finally manage to choke out. he hummed quietly, taking the time to think, before his fingers dropped away from your face.

“then you will get better,” he spoke, voice serious. “you’ll heal and adapt.”

“i don’t think i have it in me, sukuna.” you whimpered. “i don’t… i’m so tired…”

strong, yet gentle arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a solid chest. he held you so firmly yet so carefully, as if you were going to break if he breathed wrong.

“…let’s try,” he whispered, a hand gently sliding to hold your head gently as you broke, sobbing, the sound muffled by his shirt, which you definitely were ruining. “one more try. just one more, and then ‘ll never bother you anymore. i’ll even give you a pen, just one more semester, okay?”

you sobbed harder. he held you patiently, waiting for your cries to die down, never once loosening his grip, fingers carefully rubbing your back to comfort you. after a few minutes, you finally pulled away, harshly wiping your tears, and he spoke again, voice even quieter. “one semester, and then i’ll let you do whatever you want, i promise. please.”

you rubbed your eyes harder, as if that would remove the pounding headache that refused to leave you, even in your worst moments. “…you don’t have to be involved in this, sukuna.”

“i want to be.” he immediately argued, no hesitation. “least i can do after you saved my life, really.”

“that’s stupid. i just gave you a stupid pen.”

“that stupid pen saved my life,” he repeated, frowning. “please? please.”

you scoffed, the sleeves of your hoodie still covering your palms that you had pressed to your eyes; avoiding looking at him. “…i really don’t want you burdened.”

“you think i would do this if i didn’t want to?” he grunted. “have you heard nothing about me?”

you were quiet for a while, before you finally sighed.

you already had everything written and packed, plan ready, everything prepared. you already survived for twenty years, a few more months weren’t too bad, right? and it wasn’t like you had to force yourself if things became unbearable again, you could always just… do it.

worst case, sukuna would just end up as another letter in your life.

eventually, the curiosity of how sukuna thought he could ever make things better won, and you sighed, sniffling as you dropped your palms off your eyes, looking at him, your eyes exhausted and swollen. “…one semester.”

sukuna ryomen grinned like he won the fucking lottery. “i promise you, you’ll never regret this.”

and years later, as you laid in bed, turning off the alarm set for you to go to a job in a career you finally felt comfortable in, sitting in a room with mirrors you no longer despised even glancing at, with sukuna’s heavy arm wrapped around your waist because your clingy husband refused to let you get out of bed with ease, your lips twitched into a small, tiny smile.

yeah, gets really fucking better.

a/n: this was lowk horrible but using this fic to cope so it doesn’t matter anyways. do u guys like my new dividers I LOVE THEM shoutout to my tumblr crush fr <3

#tyygr favs

iheartyuyu

[very strong suicidal themes and strong topics. can not stress enough these warnings, reader is suicidal. v strong self projection... english isn’t my first language.]

the first time you ever had a proper conversation with sukuna ryomen, he saved your life.

you had nothing left.

you were just so tired.

the view was slowly becoming more blurry, your eyes glossing over with tears, taking a quiet, shaky breath, mourning the happiness you failed to ever achieve.

just then, the roof door slammed open, a loud groan echoing. “fucking choso always giving people the key. hey, you.”

sukuna ryomen was known.

he was frozen for a few more seconds, then frowned. “you’re in my monday class.”

you blinked, mind going blank for a moment. you were quiet for a beat, eyebrows slowly furrowing in confusion, because there was simply no way he was saying what you thought he was. “…what?”

“…bullshit,” you mumbled. your voice was quiet, hissed between gasps that were a pathetic attempt not to cry. he only hummed, quiet.

“i would have answered that way, too.” he muttered, voice quieter. “funny, isn’t it?”

you didn’t answer. you kept staring straight ahead, and sniffled. after a few quiet minutes, you breathed out, trying not to bawl in front of the stranger in your class. “…what stopped you?”

he let out a faint chuckle. it sounded sad.

“…what if it doesn’t?” you finally manage to choke out. he hummed quietly, taking the time to think, before his fingers dropped away from your face.

“then you will get better,” he spoke, voice serious. “you’ll heal and adapt.”

“i don’t think i have it in me, sukuna.” you whimpered. “i don’t… i’m so tired…”

strong, yet gentle arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a solid chest. he held you so firmly yet so carefully, as if you were going to break if he breathed wrong.

you rubbed your eyes harder, as if that would remove the pounding headache that refused to leave you, even in your worst moments. “…you don’t have to be involved in this, sukuna.”

“i want to be.” he immediately argued, no hesitation. “least i can do after you saved my life, really.”

“that’s stupid. i just gave you a stupid pen.”

“that stupid pen saved my life,” he repeated, frowning. “please? please.”

you scoffed, the sleeves of your hoodie still covering your palms that you had pressed to your eyes; avoiding looking at him. “…i really don’t want you burdened.”

“you think i would do this if i didn’t want to?” he grunted. “have you heard nothing about me?”

you were quiet for a while, before you finally sighed.

worst case, sukuna would just end up as another letter in your life.

sukuna ryomen grinned like he won the fucking lottery. “i promise you, you’ll never regret this.”

yeah, gets really fucking better.

a/n: this was lowk horrible but using this fic to cope so it doesn’t matter anyways. do u guys like my new dividers I LOVE THEM shoutout to my tumblr crush fr <3

•18+ Adults Only

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rinaxs

you knew what you were getting into when you started dating sukuna; you knew the rep that surrounded him and the rumors that would follow. but some part of you—albiet a rather stupid part— thought that it wouldn't matter. you were in love, weren't you? at least that's what it felt like for some short time. those times quickly faded and were replaced by mere late night hookups and even later phone calls after days of radio silence from him.

today just happened to be one of the days where he stumbled back to your apartment and into your arms. perhaps another version of you would believe that he always came back to you because he loved you. now, as you look as his disheveled appearance and smell the perfume of another girl, you truly don't know what to think.

"hey, baby." he slurs over his words and the smile on his face would have had you fooled a couple of months ago. but you know better by now. and yet, you still don't push him away when he leans in for a kiss and walks into your apartment as if he owns the place. he pulls away from your lips but his hands stayed on your hips, preventing you from moving away. “y’know i love u right, baby?” sukuna says. maybe you would believe him if you couldnt practically taste the alcohol on him. in other circumstances, you wouldve thought he was really looking at you like he loved you. too bad you could see how red his eyes were. and if you looked even closer, you could see some remnants of glitter on his skin.

it wasn't a shocker that sukuna was going to clubs and making out with other girls. you've seen the posts, heard the stories, and you've grown numb to it now. it's not like what you had with sukuna was official anyways. he could call you his girlfriend all he wanted and vice versa, but nothing would change the fact that what you had was not a relationship.

you put your hands over his and force his hands off of you. he practically whines at the loss of touch but you try to stay firm.

"what are you doing here, sukuna?" you ask.

"came to see my girl," sukuna says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "what's so wrong with me coming to visit you?"

because you never do unless your drunk off your ass, you think to yourself. you contemplate voicing your thoughts but decide against it. you were already exhausted and the last thing you wanted to deal with was the man standing in front of you vying for your touch. you contemplate calling one of his frat brothers to come pick him up, not wanting to deal with him tonight but his voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

"i feel like we never see each other anymore," he mutters, a frown prominent on his face.

"and who's fault is that?"

"are you mad at me or something?"

you rub your temples in an effort to ease the growing headache, "i'm just tired sukuna-"

"you never call me that unless your mad."

"it's your name, sukuna," you respond, emphasizing on his name causing his scowl to deepen. he's quick to step into your space and pull you into a hug once more, one you don't return. you feel him mutter something in the crevice of your neck. "what are you doing?"

"i said i love you," he repeats louder. "you never said it back."

"maybe tell me when your sober and i will."

"but im saying it now."

you push him away once more, making sure to keep him at an arm's length away now. "but you never mean it, do you?" his silence tells you everything you need to know. you sigh and drag him to the couch before pushing him onto the cushions. "you can stay here for the night but you're out of here when i wake up, understand?"

"you don't mean that, pretty baby," he smirks groggily, getting comfortable on your couch.

he's right, you didn't. but he didn't need to know that for now. you would deal with his ass in the morning. you toss a throw blanket on his face, "go to sleep, ryo."

before you get a chance to walk away, he grabs your wrist, "sleep with me?" the man is practically passed out but his grip is still a little firm. even then, it takes little effort from you to pry his fingers from your wrist. he's practically snoring by the time you've walked away. you pull out your phone and scroll through your contacts until you land on toji's. you text him, knowing damn well he wouldn't answer a phone call, and head to your bedroom.

you i need you to get sukuna out of my apt

toji doesn't respond until ten minutes later and answers with only a thumbs up. you stay up long enough to hear the knock on your door and open it to find toji and shiu. they greet you lightly and move to sukuna, who was passed out and drooling on your couch. toji and shiu hoist him up, one of sukuna's arms on each of their shoulders so they are carrying him in between.

"is this your way of ending it officially?" toji asks, adjusting his grip on sukuna's arm, ignoring his unconcious grumbles.

"i'll shoot him a text or something in case this isn't obvious enough. get him to pick up his shit tomorrow," you shrug off, trying to come off as indifferent as possible.

shiu whinces, "ouch- harsh even for this asshole."

you narrow your eyes, "if you're going to defend him, i should've just dragged him and left him out there."

"and he would've deserved every last bit, sweetheart," toji says. him and shiu move for the door but just before they leave, toji looks at you over his shoulder. "i know he doesn't make it seem like it, but he really does love you, yn."

you shake your head softly but you do your best to give him a smile. "goodnight toji. night shiu." they bid you farewell and you close the door. you take out your phone from your pocket and click on sukuna's contact. you spend too much effort crafting the message and too much time re-reading it. you hit send before you have a chance of backing out and block him quickly after.

it's over ryomen. ill have your stuff ready for you in the morning.

heartkaji

ⵌ XO, EX HOE ! ft. fratkuna

AITA FOR SABOTAGING MY EX-GF’S NEW RELATIONSHIP ?

18+. sum 𓏲 you and fratkuna are the kind of couple who break up & make up every other week. but when you swear you’re done with him and go off to date his rival, the new football team captain, can his frat brothers help him get you back ?

cast: nerdjo (‘toru’ gojo) + frat! jjk men (‘sigma chi’) : fratjo (‘sato’ gojo) ◞ geto ◞ toji ◞ sukuna ◞ nanami 𓏲 gallery here !

EX-BOYFRIEND TACTICS #1: GET YOUR GIRL BACK !

taught by: toru gojo

‘sabotaging your ex girlfriend’s new relationship to get her back? this can’t be a good idea.’

ΣΧ “‘high value woman’ but your new man’s a misogynist?!”

ryomen sukuna’s time of irritation is approximately 9:17 PM.

toru gojo’s bedroom floor is velvet carpet with half-empty beer bottles rotting on the rug. his center table is littered with poker cards & sato’s candy wrappers, and geto suguru & sato gojo are avoiding eye contact so they don’t burst out in laughter as sukuna glares daggers at toru’s screen.

toru’s hands shake under sukuna’s glare but he holds the phone steady. the instagram post on screen is a slap to sukuna’s face.

HOT NEW CAMPUS COUPLE : FOOTBALL CAPTAIN NAOYA ZENIN & Y/N L/N !

and the photo is you. swollen lips & pretty gaze & a dress so short it makes sukuna’s jaw ache—but not as much as naoya’s arm around you does. beside you toji’s cousin naoya zenin is there, grin cocky, eyes glinting in the camera light and arm around your waist because his fugly ass doesn’t know you like to be held around the hips instead. sukuna’s jaw ticks.

sukunahs

touch me | ryomen sukuna

pairing: sukuna x masseuse!reader

summary: sukuna isn't pleased when he's forced to go to a new masseuse for his monthly sports massage, but upon meeting you he finds himself hopelessly smitten and desperately seeking more of your touch.

word count: 6.2k

content: 18+ mdni, smut, modern au, pining, yearing, sukuna is originally a bit of a jerk, confident reader, boxer!sukuna, reader is muscular, subby (ish) sukuna, piv, hand jobs, semi-public sex (in a massage room)

a/n: got this one in as an anon request I hope you all enjoy sukuna being NEEDY and stupid

Sukuna had been going to Toji for his sports massages for years.

They’d known each other since college, back when Toji would practice his craft on Sukuna for free on the path to getting his certification. Now Sukuna actually paid the guy to dig his elbow into his back once a month, certain that Toji’s impact had a lot to do with how effective Sukuna had been at avoiding silly injuries throughout his boxing career.

Toji was a rare gem amongst masseuses - strong enough and mean enough to do his job well, unconcerned by how much it might hurt to relieve Sukuna’s body of all the stress he’d put it under week after week.

He was the only person Sukuna trusted to do it effectively, and when he walked into Toji’s gym one day only for the receptionist to tell him that Toji wasn’t available thanks to a family emergency, he was devastated.

tigrrrkuna

୨ৎ ──── situhatesionship

synop. everyone knows you guys hate each other. that didn't stop you from making him your fuckboy.

໒꒱.⋆ fratkuna 𝓍 semi-mean f!reader warnings. smut, mdni. college!au, quickie before class. hatefuck, unsure feelings, lots of banter. piv, sorta rough n fast, no condoms, vaginal fingering, creampie. mentions cunnilingus. he's a fein for ur kitty

⌖ mlist ⌖ taglist ⌖

the door slams behind the both of you, your backpacks forgotten in a storm of him collecting you by the waist and hoisting you up and backwards, heading straight to your room. his mouth was already stealing the exhales off yours in hasty, messy, painful kisses. you land on the wall right outside your bedroom door.

"hah..!" his hands were splayed across your ass, just big enough to grab you in full. "can you.. slow down— asshole!" the words barely manage to escape you with how demanding his touches were.

"you were the one who texted me during lecture," he barked back, his kisses traveling down your chest instead. you try to suppress a moan and fail, throwing your head back as his lips mouth over your clothed nipple.

you barely manage to push his spiky, pink hair to expose his face to you, a weak attempt at shoving him back. "and you told me you don't give a fuck about that class since you already convinced the ta to give you a's," you scoff. he stares at you through his top lashes, a huff of a laugh leaving his gritted teeth.

his sly, signature smirk curls low and slow across his face. “still came running when i said i was free.” you open your mouth to argue, but he doesn’t give you the chance.

f-tality0

Sukuna w goons but like if I forgot to add smthjbg it’s cause it’s 2am buhbye

•18+ Adults Only

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mochichosoblog

Thursday is when I loved you

Sukuna just won't quit trying to get your attention, and for once, despite all the red flags, you give in.

The ambient chatter of the campus café faded into a low hum, eclipsed by the sheer, imposing presence of the guy sitting across from you. Ryomen Sukuna.

He leaned back in the vinyl booth, his broad frame making the sturdy wooden chair look like a toy. A smirk played on his lips, full of the effortless, infuriating confidence that came with being the campus's most notorious frat guy. He looked entirely out of place next to your stacks of highlighters, color-coded flashcards, and heavy textbooks. Yet, here he was. Again.

"You're wasting your time on me," you muttered, your voice laced with a exhaustion that ran bone-deep.

Sukuna didn’t even blink. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, effectively invading your neat little sanctuary of study materials. His dark eyes locked onto yours, intense and unyielding.

"I'd waste all the time in the world to be with you."

You let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. That was the sixth time this week you’d found yourself letting out that exact same sigh, and frankly, it was only Thursday. By your mental tally, this was the eighth time this month that Sukuna had managed to track you down, trailing after you like a shadow you couldn’t shake.

The worst part about Sukuna’s sudden, hyper-fixated pursuit was his complete lack of shame. Most guys, when rejected once or twice, would back off to save face. Not him. Sukuna didn’t care who was watching. He didn’t care about the whispers that followed him through the quad, or the amused glances from his fraternity brothers when they saw him getting shot down for the umpteenth time.

He was relentless.

The Class Ambushes: Every Tuesday and Thursday, the moment your lecture ended and you stepped out of the building, he’d be leaning against the brick wall, tossing a football or scrolling through his phone, waiting to walk you to your next building.

You noticed how he left exam care packages. Just last week, during midterms, you arrived at your usual library desk to find a large iced caramel macchiato and a fresh warm muffin waiting for you. A messy, handwritten note attached simply read: Don't forget to eat. - S.

He had somehow gotten your Instagram from a mutual acquaintance, and though you never added him back, he still managed to find ways to bump into you in a university of thirty thousand students.

For the first time in campus history, it seemed like Ryomen Sukuna was genuinely down bad. The rumor mill was in overdrive. The campus playboy, the guy who broke hearts by the dozen and lived for weekend rages, was suddenly acting like a smitten schoolboy.

But you couldn't care less.

You looked at his sharp jawline, the casual set of his shoulders in his varsity jacket, and the expensive watch ticking on his wrist. What good would a partying frat boy do for someone like you? You had a future to build, a GPA to maintain, and a strict timeline to get into graduate school.

Sukuna was a walking, talking distraction. He represented everything that could go wrong in your structured life:

The distraction being-Late-night parties, endless drama, and a lifestyle that clashed violently with your 6:00 AM study alarms.

He is a guy with who's reputation didn't just change overnight. Cheating felt less like a risk and more like an inevitability.

In the end when he inevitably got bored of the chase, you’d be left picking up the pieces of your broken heart while he moved on to the next girl.

They were all distinct possibilities, and frankly, you didn't feel like dealing with any of them. Why was he so persistent anyway? What was the game here? Was it a bet? A dare?

Here he was yet again, sitting right in front of you at your usual study spot in the dimly lit corner of the campus café. Before you could even pull out your wallet, he had already slid his black card to the barista, paying for both your triple-shot espresso and his own drink before sliding into the booth across from you.

"Seriously, Ryomen," you huffed, closing your laptop with a soft thud and looking at him with a look of profound annoyance. "What exactly is it that you want from me? Look at us. We're complete opposites."

Sukuna didn’t flinch at your cold tone. Instead, his smirk softened just a fraction, turning into something genuine that made your chest tighten uncomfortably.

"I want a chance is all," he said, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly baritone that vibrated right through the wooden table. "Just try dating me for a week or two. If you hate it, if I ruin your life like you seem to think I will, you can walk away. No strings. No checking up on you. But give me two weeks to see if you want it to be permanent."

You stared at him, searching his face for any sign of a joke, a hidden camera, or the smug satisfaction of a con artist. There was none. There was only a quiet, burning intensity that made you feel incredibly small and incredibly seen all at the same time.

"Two weeks," you repeated slowly, tapping your highlighter against the table. "You honestly think you can survive two weeks in my world, Sukuna? I don't go to Greek row. I don't drink jungle juice out of plastic tubs. My idea of a wild Friday night is getting through three chapters of organic chemistry and sleeping for eight full hours."

Sukuna chuckled, a deep sound that rumbled from his chest. He leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head. "Sounds thrilling. Sign me up. I'll even quiz you on the chemistry."

"You don't even know what an organic molecule looks like," you shot back, rolling your eyes, though a tiny, treacherous spark of amusement flared in your chest.

"Try me," he challenged, his dark eyes flashing. "Look, I know what you think of me. You think I’m some brainless jock who only cares about the next tailgate. And maybe I’ve given people a reason to think that. But I’m not playing a game with you. If I wanted a easy hookup, I wouldn't be spending my Thursday afternoons listening to the indie-pop playlist this coffee shop has had on loop for three hours just to look at the top of your head while you study."

You bit your inside lip. He had a point. If this was a joke, it was a wildly inefficient one for someone with his social calendar.

"Fine," you said suddenly, the word slipping out before your rational brain could stop it.

Sukuna’s eyes widened slightly, a genuine flash of surprise crossing his features before a massive, triumphant grin broke across his face. "Fine? As in, yes?"

"As in, you have exactly fourteen days," you said, pointing your highlighter at him like a weapon. "But we do this on my terms. No parties. No bringing your loud friends into my space. You want to date me? You adapt to my schedule. If you skip a single study session we agree on, or if I catch you slacking, the deal is off."

"Done," he said instantly, leaning forward to seal the deal. He extended a hand across the table, his large, calloused palm waiting for yours. "Fourteen days to prove I’m worth your time."

You looked at his hand, hesitating for a fraction of a second, before wrapping your fingers around his. His grip was warm, firm, and completely grounding. As you pulled your hand back, you couldn't shake the sudden, terrifying feeling that you had just made a deal with a very handsome, very dangerous devil—and that your carefully ordered life was never going to be the same again.

The first few days of the arrangement were a masterclass in tension. True to his word, Sukuna showed up.

On Friday night, instead of being at the massive frat mixer everyone on campus was talking about, he was sitting on the floor of your apartment living room. He had brought over a massive takeout bag of Thai food, and he was currently staring blankly at a diagram of a cell membrane.

"So, the sodium-potassium pump," Sukuna muttered, tracing a line with a pencil that looked comically small in his hand. "It basically acts like a bouncer for the cell? Keeping the bad stuff out, letting the good stuff in?"

You paused your typing, looking down at him from the couch. He had discarded his usual varsity jacket, wearing just a plain black t-shirt that stretched tight across his shoulders. His hair was messy, and he actually looked like he was trying.

"Yeah," you said softly, surprise filtering into your voice. "That's... actually a really good analogy."

Sukuna looked up, a smug grin immediately plastering his face. "See? Told you I have a brain. You just have to give me a reason to use it."

"Don't get cocky, Ryomen. That's bio 101. We haven't even gotten to the hard stuff."

"Bring it on," he murmured, his eyes locking onto yours with that familiar, intense focus. The playful arrogance was there, but beneath it was something entirely different—a genuine desire to please you. It was disarming.

As the days bled into the next week, the changes became more noticeable. He didn't just show up; he anticipated what you needed. When you had a breakdown over a missing source for a research paper on Tuesday, he didn't tell you to calm down or offer empty platitudes. He quietly opened his own laptop, asked for the thesis topic, and spent two hours filtering through academic databases until he found three peer-reviewed journals that fit perfectly.

"Where did you learn how to do Boolean search terms?" you asked, staring at the screen in disbelief.

Sukuna shrugged, taking a sip of his energy drink. "My older brother is a lawyer. He made me do his legal research formatting when I was in high school as punishment whenever I got caught sneaking out. Turns out, it's useful for something other than getting grounded."

You couldn't help the laugh that escaped you—a bright, genuine sound that made Sukuna stop completely. He just watched you, a soft, uncharacteristic expression on his face, until you flushed and looked back down at your notes.

By the end of the first week, the campus dynamic had shifted. Walking with Sukuna wasn't the agonizing chore you thought it would be. He was like a human shield against the rest of the world. People gave you space; the chaotic energy of the university quad seemed to part around him, leaving a quiet pocket of peace just for the two of you.

But the doubts didn't disappear entirely. They just changed shape.

It happened on Thursday night, exactly one week into the arrangement. You were walking back from the library late, the campus illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlights. Sukuna was carrying your heavy backpack over one shoulder, his free hand occasionally brushing against yours as you walked.

"Hey, Sukuna?" you asked, the cool night air biting at your cheeks.

"Yeah?"

"Why me?"

He stopped walking, turning to look at you beneath the shadow of a massive oak tree. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... look around," you said, gesturing vaguely toward the dark campus. "You could have anyone. There are dozens of girls who would jump at the chance to be with you, who actually want to go to the parties, who wouldn't make you sit in a stuffy library for six hours a day. Why did you spend a month chasing someone who kept telling you no?"

Sukuna was quiet for a long moment. He dropped your backpack to the ground, stepping closer until the heat radiating off his body shielded you from the wind. He reached out, his thumb gently catching a stray lock of hair that had blown across your face, tucking it behind your ear. His touch was incredibly gentle, a stark contrast to his rough exterior.

"Because they like the idea of me," he said, his voice quiet, almost vulnerable. "They like the guy who throws the parties. They like the guy who doesn't care about anything. But when I'm around you... I don't have to perform. You don't care about the reputation, or the frat, or any of the bullshit. You see right through it."

He stepped closer, his chest nearly touching yours.

"And honestly?" he whispered, his eyes dropping to your lips for a fleeting second before returning to your eyes. "You're the only thing on this entire campus that feels real to me. I was tired of chasing things that didn't matter. I wanted something that did."

Your heart hammered against your ribs, a frantic, wild rhythm. The logical, analytical part of your brain was screaming at you to run, to remind yourself of the risks, to protect your heart. But looking up at him, seeing the raw honesty in his dark eyes, those defenses felt incredibly flimsy.

The second week felt less like a trial and more like a routine you didn't want to break.

You found yourself looking forward to the text messages checking in on your day. You found yourself buying two coffees in the morning instead of one, knowing he'd show up at your locker with a sleepy grin, waiting to take your bag.

He didn't try to force you into his world, but he did open the door to it. On Friday, he invited you to his fraternity house—not for a party, but during the day, when the house was completely empty and quiet.

"Come here," he said, leading you past the empty main hall that usually smelled like stale beer, up the stairs to his private room.

His room was surprisingly clean. There were football trophies on a shelf, yes, but there was also a massive drafting table covered in complex architectural blueprints.

"You're an architecture major?" you asked, stepping up to the table and looking at the intricate, hand-drawn lines of a massive library complex.

"Minoring in it," Sukuna said, rubbing the back of his neck, a rare flush of color hitting his cheeks. "My dad wants me to take over his construction firm, but I wanted to actually learn how to design the buildings first. I don't really talk about it with the guys in the house. They think it's a waste of time compared to business management."

You looked from the blueprints to him, a sudden wave of understanding washing over you. He wasn't a brainless jock running away from a future; he was a guy hiding his passions because it was easier to play the role everyone expected of him. Just like you were hiding behind your books because it was easier than risking getting hurt.

"It's beautiful, Sukuna," you said softly, your fingers tracing the edge of the paper. "Seriously. This is incredible."

Sukuna didn't say anything. He just stepped up behind you, his hands resting gently on your hips, pulling you back against his chest. You didn't pull away. You leaned into him, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart against your back.

"Seven days left," he murmured into your hair. "Am I still a distraction?"

"Yes," you whispered, turning around in his arms to face him. "A massive one. But... maybe you're a distraction I'm starting to like."

The final day of the two weeks arrived with a quiet finality. It was a Thursday afternoon, exactly fourteen days since he had sat across from you in the café and demanded a chance.

You were sitting at the exact same booth. The café was just as crowded, the indie-pop music just as faint, the ambient noise just as loud. But everything else felt entirely different.

You weren't studying. Your laptop was closed, your books packed away in your bag. You were just waiting.

The bell above the door chimed, and you looked up. Sukuna walked in, his eyes immediately scanning the room until they landed on you. He walked over, but he didn't slide into the booth across from you this time. He stood at the edge of the table, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

"Time's up," Sukuna said, his voice flat, masking whatever anxiety he was feeling. "Fourteen days. I didn't skip a session. I didn't drag you to a party. I did everything you asked."

You looked up at him, letting the silence stretch between you for a long, agonizing moment. The playboy of the campus looked like he was waiting for a jury's verdict.

"You did," you agreed softly.

"So?" He stepped closer, his jaw tight. "Do I get to keep wasting my time on you, or do I walk away?"

You stood up from the booth, grabbing your backpack. You stepped out of the aisle, standing directly in front of him. For a moment, you looked at the broad shoulders, the sharp jaw, the reputation that had terrified you two weeks ago. Then, you looked at the guy who had spent hours learning cell biology, who drew beautiful buildings in secret, and who looked at you like you were the only person in a crowded room.

You reached out, your fingers wrapping around the collar of his varsity jacket, pulling him down just enough so you could press your lips to his.

Sukuna froze for a fraction of a second in sheer shock before his hands came out of his pockets, resting against your waist and pulling you flush against him. The kiss was deep, desperate, and full of a profound relief that echoed through both of you. It wasn't the practiced, casual kiss of a guy who did this every weekend; it was tight, possessive, and terrified of letting go.

When you finally pulled back, both of you slightly breathless, Sukuna’s hands stayed firmly on your hips, refusing to let you step away.

"I take it that means I stay," he breathed, a massive, breathless grin spreading across his face, his dark eyes shining with a triumph far greater than any football game he'd ever won.

"You stay," you whispered, a small smile breaking across your own face as you rested your hands against his chest. "But for the record? You're still a terrible influence on my GPA."

"I can live with that," Sukuna laughed, leaning down to kiss you again, completely unbothered by the stares of the crowded café around you. "I can definitely live with that."

Tag-list: @oksukuna, @megssleepygirl, @malaccah

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