#I REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY LIKE YOU | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

baepsays · 3 days ago

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I FEEL THE RUSH ──── Gojo Satoru.

synopsis ────⋙ Instead of spending the very last summer vacation of your life like an average university student, you come back to your home town under unexpected and unfortunate circumstances; and silly misunderstandings lead to a blossoming summer romance.

pairing ────⋙ summer fling Gojo Satoru x reader

wc ────⋙ 15.2k (for a spontaneous silly fic i worte in 5 days idk how it got this long)

cw ────⋙ NSFW, MDNI, fluff, i mean some angst, mention of cheating, shitty ex, shitty friends, depressive episode, everyone here is rich af, teasing, banter, oral sex (f! receiving), car sex, flirting, lots of it, nothing else i wanna spoil lol, give it a read.

a/n: art by @/m0ryy , find the art here. the playlist that i used (very fun playlist ngl), also I'm tweaking the layout here and there as it just fits.

Summer is often dubbed the season of fruition, fulfillment, happiness, and new beginnings. Though for you, summer seems to be the season when you just never know what day it is.

Days blend into each other, hours pass by, the sun never seems to set, and weeks seem to end way ahead of time. And your boyfriend, or now ex-boyfriend to be more accurate, finds it the perfect season to finally break up with you. After months of cheating on you behind your back with your own closest friend, it seems he finally found the nerve to get away with it.

After they were both done leaching off of you and betraying you, it was time to leave you behind.

You wish you could say you were hurt. Broken and miserable. Well, you were miserable, not because of the recent circumstances. But rather than you being concerned about graduating, the dread of leaving behind the safety net of a tiring education system was daunting, to say the least. But at least it was there.

You don't really blame them for anything, but then you also do, though you knew when it started. When you found one of her socks in his room. Or when you smelled his perfume on her sheets. But you just never did anything; it sort of gave you leverage to not really input anything into these exhausting relationships without feeling like an asshole. A good excuse—that's all it was.

Maybe your parents wouldn't understand these things so easily; maybe to them you are their heartbroken little girl. That is probably why they showed up at your apartment unannounced immediately the day after you told them about your breakup.

And now you are in the backseat of your father's car, being driven back to the town you grew up in. Passing by the familiar ocean you always hated looking at whenever you had to drive back and forth. The vast, never-ending, salty mystery never made any sense to you. Probably why you never got around to learning how to swim.

“Are you alright there, sweetheart?” Your mother looked back from the passenger seat, only to hear you hum an unenthusiastic yes.

“We're almost there. You know they renovated the club? You should come with us tomorrow. Everyone asks about you all the time.” Your father spoke without moving his eyes from the road.

“Sure. I will.” It didn't take much to appease your parents.

Simple-minded or privileged, whatever they were, you were probably worse. With all the comfort in this world, here you were, alone by choice. Left behind and soon forgotten. Which was never your intention; you just could not be what your parents, your ex boyfriend, and your friend's expectations wanted you to be. And therefore you are now taking steps backwards at a time in your life when you are to be sprinting forward.

Summer has always been the season most unkind to you, and you've never made it feel any less unappreciated. The animosity between you and the most beloved season cannot be that easily erased with a renovated country club, or the ocean, or some ice cream, or the wind that breezes by your windows at night, or twelve hours of sleep.

But at the very least you can hope it does not burn you into the ground.

Every time you step back in your old room, a part of you wishes that your parents just threw everything out and made it into another sitting room or another gym. Then you see the posters of the band you and your high school friends once snuck out to see during your last senior year summer vacation, and it reminds you that maybe summer didn't hate you as bad as you thought.

Then the memories of the summer during your first year of college come back, how miserable it was. Locked in your small dorm, with your annoying roommate gone, yet her side of the room remained as headache-inducing as ever. Parents you could reach out to, as they were not even in the country, and you did not have it in you to ruin their vacation. High school friends who slowly drifted away and suddenly broke all relationships and the promises. All that was left was you and the miserable heat of the summer.

Anything will always be better than that shitty dorm room, even the room you grew up in that haunts your dreams now.

Walking down the stairs, you found your parents enjoying the wind cutting through them on the patio. And as you passed the living room while looking out at them sitting by each other's side, without even looking where you were going, you realized that maybe you have not really forgotten what that sense of familiarity felt like being back home.

It hasn't even been half a day that you've been back in your childhood bedroom. It was already well past 12:00 AM, and you could still walk from your room to the kitchen with your eyes closed, half asleep. Even the sound of a car pulling up in your neighbor’s driveway, the teenagers giggling in a hushed voice, and someone's dog barking—everything felt comforting and just as it always sounded. It felt like home.

It felt like you could finally open your windows, at the end of the day, and welcome the summer breeze as happily as your parents did.

You wish you could say you spent your first few days back home more productively. Instead it was just a routine of waking up at either 4:00 AM or 4:00 PM. Making coffee, eating whatever could be easily grabbed, and then spending the rest of your day rotting away in bed.

This was summer. The summer that everyone longed for and idealized, for you it was days bending into each other. Until the urgency of the decreasing free days finally made you want to pick up your unfinished assignments and open those untouched documents.

“Alright, get ready!” Your father barged into your room unannounced with the amount of enthusiasm that made you kind of regret being back home.

“You have got to stop walking into my room like that.” You didn't bother to look up at him from your bed, keeping your eyes trained on the screen of your laptop. The poor thing has been running since last night without a break. All because you found some horrible show to occupy your brain for some hours and not let you think about anything.

“Go get changed; we're going to the club!” With every step he took forward, the more you wanted your bed to swallow you whole.

“Why can't I just stay home—AND STOP OPENING MY WINDOWS, IT'S SO HOT OUT!” The sunlight suddenly poured in from your windows, and it felt like just from the looks of the shining rays of light, the heat outside could melt even when you were in the comfort of your nice and cold room, courtesy of the air conditioning.

“DO NOT ARGUE WITH ME, YOUNG LADY! YOU'RE COMING WITH US!”

And what is a poor little girl to do when her father is the one paying for her tuition fees and air conditioning bill? Certainly not going against what he asked for. She has to move her butt, take a shower, and change into a presentable sundress. To smile and nod at old neighbors she always found detestable.

You can only hope this white dress passes as presentable. Though there is nothing wrong with the dress, and sure, it is worn in, the cotton has softened significantly from when it was originally bought, which feels better on the skin than anything ever. The thin straps have become a little flimsy, and you genuinely believe the length has somehow shortened from above your knees to now where the hem lies on the middle of your thighs. But the pretty embroidery of flowers that ran all over the dress in a cream thread was what made this dress as captivating as it was.

The country club has never been a place you went with much enthusiasm. It was either about tagging your parents, running away from swimming lessons they forcibly signed you up for, sneaking into some empty room to take a nap, taking tennis lessons, or just simply sitting by the pool with your friends for lack of anything else better to do.

The worst part was always running into familiar faces, especially in such an exclusive place; everyone knew everyone. Especially when you're left by yourself at a table, like right now, sipping on some tea, only for just about any nasty neighbor to come up to you and make a few sarcastic comments.

“Oh my goodness! How have you been, honey? Look at you! It's like you're a fully grown adult now! But I still can't choose a pretty dress I see.” Oh, how you wish Mrs. Wilson would finally change for the better and stop running her mouth. And what is that even supposed to mean? You are a fully grown adult. Even though she will argue you're still the same petty kid from all those years ago. But you'd have to argue that you're a vengeful grown-up now. This is why you'll never see eye to eye with her.

“And you also look like you've aged a lot in these few years, Mrs. Wilson.” Her face soured just as quickly as it always did whenever she stopped to talk to you on the street back when you used to live here.

“Your tongue is as sharp as ever, huh?” She smiled at you with the most faux politeness.

“Well, some things never change.” And you returned her smile with a similarly fake one.

Thankfully, your parents were done chatting with some of their friends. So you said your goodbyes to her with a tight smile and walked back to your parents. Not before you let out a little chuckle to yourself hearing her scoff behind your back.

“Oh, you met Mrs. Wilson, huh? I hope you were nice.” Your mother asked in a concerned voice, knowing your long, tumultuous history with her.

Well, maybe you would've had a better relationship with her like the rest of your neighbors, who adore you! If only she didn't insult your fashion choices since you were a baby, and if her daughter didn't spend the entirety of high school trying to compete with you. Then maybe—actually never mind, you cannot be nice to a woman like her.

“Yep, I was on my best behavior!” Your smile sure didn't say so, and your mother knew that too. At least your father understood your hatred for that woman. And thankfully he still does, given the fist bump he offered you.

“You two are going to kill me one day. Anyway, we are going to the sauna. Do you want to come with us?” She sighed, tired of you and your father's dislike for the woman who happens to be a big source of your mother's neighborhood gossip.

“Sauna with you two and your friends? Absolutely not.” You'd rather sit in a scorching hot room full of old people who've seen you in your diaper, like any sane person.

“Alright, but the Getos wanted to meet you.” The Geto family lived right across from you. They happened to be your parents’ probably closest friends here. You and their son, Suguru, grew up together. You two have been childhood friends who always had a mutual respect for each other because of your mutual disdain for Mrs. Wilson and Summer.

“I'll say hello to them after you guys are done or just drop by their place later.” You adored them the best out of all your neighbors. After all, they've been nothing but kind to you growing up. You've spent a lot more time in Suguru's front yard than your own.

“Alright. We'll let you know when we are done.” You and your parents always had very different ideas about most situations.

“Huh? I can't just go home?” Where your parents wanted you to engage in some social and recreational activities, you wanted to go back to your bed.

“No. Either do something or come to the sauna with us.” At this point it felt like your mother just wanted you to be humiliated in the sauna more than anything.

“Sure, threatening your fully grown-up daughter is the best method of parenting.” The way you were sighing made you sound more like an angsty teenager than anything.

“If you were actually a grown-up adult, we wouldn't have to lecture you like this.” God forbid you get snarky and your mother lets you get away with it.

“Jeez, I'll find something to do.” No one can really argue with your mother, so guess you better find something interesting enough to do while your parents get cooked in the sauna.

“Don't cause any trouble, sweetie!” Your father said, loudly enough from behind you, that made you pick up your pace out of the dining hall. Twenty or seventy-two, they'll never stop embarrassing you on purpose.

“Not a kid, oh my god.” You speed-walked past the pool, full of teenagers and old people. Mumbling to yourself, like some sort of reassurance.

No one you know will ever call you childish or anything but mature. Except for your parents, they'd say you're still a kid. And maybe they are right; you don't really feel like an adult, nor do you feel like a kid. It's a weird limbo of being in your 20s, the supposedly best years of your life, just passing by in vain and emptiness.

The country club truly looked better than ever. The playground for the kids looked like it had been through some major improvement. The pool was now bigger; even the kids' pool was better than what you remember flapping around in. The path around the lake, by the garden, looked newly paved. And the golf course was just as vast but greener than ever.

But all of that did not meet the requisite of your interests. What interested you was beyond the pool, adjacent to the garden, and right before the golf course started.

It was the tennis court where you spent the majority of your childhood, where you met Geto Suguru. And immediately decided you have to win everything where you face him off, because otherwise he will just tease you to death. You learned your lesson when you lost one friendly match to him the day you met, and that too only on the second day of your tennis journey. And suddenly the reserved new kid on the block was a smug little shit.

‘Maybe you never had to try hard enough, but you'll have to, if you want to win against me.’ Was what he said, if you remember correctly.

Since then you've been great friends. But it was either you tried not to compete against him or made sure to grind in secrecy to not give him even the smidge of a chance to tease you.

You wish your friendship with Suguru stayed as it was when you guys were kids. Playing in his front yard, getting ice cream after school, going to the beach, and pulling pranks on Mrs. Wilson. You wish some things just never changed. But you can't really say you two are on unfriendly terms now or anything; you still get a text or call from him here and there, and you make sure to always text him back and call him if any opportunity arises. You've met up with him from time to time. And you often hear about him through your parents, and you're sure he also hears likewise.

So it doesn't feel like you truly lost a friend to your shitty teenage hormones and the span of time. But you sure feel sorry for the both of you. Neither of you had a good time in highschool, it was very similar emotions you both were going through. But you two were dealing with them in your own unique and respectively different ways. Where he chose to completely shut himself away, you chose to try so hard to fit into places you never felt like you belonged.

It was only after you came back home during Christmas after getting into college that you guys reconciled.

You are glad you met Suguru that day as a kid; otherwise, maybe you wouldn't have ever gone through with your tennis lessons. If only Suguru were there to race you to the pool, you'd have been a state-level swimmer by now.

The tennis court was empty. In the heat of a summer afternoon, with the sun at its peak, it was obvious only a fool would be on a tennis court. Thankfully there wasn't another fool like you anywhere around.

And since the net was so nicely tied up, the equipment was there looking like it had just been cleaned, and you needed something to pass your time—why not take advantage of the situation? To check your rusty tennis skills and how well your new sunscreen worked. Whether or not you were about to come out looking like a sun-dried tomato depended on it. After all, summer will be here for a while, and so will you.

The neon green ball bounced off the ground and back into your palm easily, just as easily as it flew up in the air and then collided with your racket. It made a snappy sound as it spanned across the court. The ball went to hit the fence on the opposite side. You felt the sweat dripping down your temples, the ball rolled around on the ground, and you felt like something within you finally stirred up after a long while.

The number of neon balls started to gather on the opposite side of the court, as well as around your feet, from a few missed serves. But it felt good to hear the sound of your heart beating with the sound of the ball hitting the racket.

But you can only serve a few bunches of balls in the air all by yourself without an opponent. So you tried to look for the ball-dispensing machine, which you never got around to figuring out, thanks to the always very helpful staff. But given the time, everyone must be busy serving or helping out for lunch.

Yet you walked out of the court anyway to find someone to help you out with the machinery. And just behind the court, under a tree, just at the beginning of the golf course, you found a golf cart. To be more specific, you found a man leaning back in the driver's seat of the cart, with his hands behind his head, looking beat and exhausted.

He had a baseball cap covering his face, his white pearly hair was shining in the sun, and a single drop of sweat slowly streamed down his neck, along with his prominent veins, very cinematically. Even though you couldn't see his face, you could tell this guy was not from here; maybe he recently moved or something, or he was visiting for the summer and making some cash. Either way, you felt this intrigue bubbling up in the pit of your stomach as you stared at his bulging biceps and the sheen of sweat at the end of his rolled-up sleeves around his shoulders.

‘Get a grip, jeez.’

You had to warn yourself before walking up to him. Each step you took felt heavier than before; for some weird reason, now you are thinking twice about asking the hot golf cart driver for some help.

“Um, hey?” You finally reached beside the cart and leaned just close enough to his ears. And when your barely audible voice didn't get to him, you had to summon up the courage to speak up.

“Excuse me?” This time the guy jerked up in his seat. The baseball cap fell from his face to his lap, and one of his sleeves rolled down to cover up his bicep because of his sudden movements.

“Yeah?” Now that you could get a clear look at him, you could feel the tightening knots in your stomach getting worse. Not only did his body look so much better up close, but his build also looked bigger than what you imagined from afar, and his face, oh boy.

How to start? The root of his pearly hair was damp with sweat, coming off as a darker shade of something in between white and gray compared to the rest of his fluffy hair blowing in the hot summer winds. His eyes were squinted from the sudden change in lighting, but you could see the sunlight reflecting in his blue pupils. There was a layer of sweat accumulated above his upper lip, and you had to conjure up everything to not reach out and wipe it away.

“Hi, uh, I needed some help.” You pointed back at the tennis court behind you with your free hand, and the racket in your other hand came to cover the front of your legs, like some sort of shield from the unfamiliar worker’s eyes. Which made it no secret that they were raking up your body from toe to toe, probably wondering why the fuck you are playing tennis in this heat.

“Oh sure!” He quickly jumped off the cart, leaving the cart to wobble from the sudden movements and lack of weight.

He took maybe three long strides, and he was already almost at the tennis court, while you were still standing with the empty cart, looking at the silhouette of his thick thighs in those basketball shorts.

“You comin’?” He called out for you from the entrance of the court, flashing you a toothy grin, waiting for you to reach him there instead of entering the grounds all by himself. You quickly yelled a yes and ran up to him, giggling at your half-effort running.

You walked into the court, choosing to blame the sudden rise in heat on the sun above your heads. He followed suit obediently, ending up in front of the ball dispenser.

“So, could you help me start this thing? I don't know how to work this thing.” You explained to the man, hoping for some help.

“Alright. Let's see, did you try turning it on, or did it suddenly stop or something?” He crouched down on the ground to sit on his left knee on the ground. Looking around the machine and toying with the buttons at the side that you also pressed, you were also met with nothing. He inspected the machine further to find any other way to start it, even kicking it a few times.

“Yeah. This thing is definitely broken.” He gets up to now stand facing you, with his hands on his hips, defeated.

You sighed, all disappointed, but then again it made sense why the tennis court was completely empty. He looked at your face for a bit, contemplating whether or not he should blurt out what he is thinking about offering.

“Uh, I could play against you instead!” He walked up to the rest of the equipment under the shade and picked up a racket and spun it in his hands.

“Are you sure? I'm not interrupting you, right?” You were happy to hear his offer, but you also didn't want him to get scolded by his boss or something.

“Oh please, it's my pleasure!” Maybe this was part of the service.

“Alright then, you serve.”

“Gladly.”

You threw the ball across the net at him, and he caught it without any hesitation.

He slightly bent down to position for his serve as you walked up to your post and got in position as well. He made the ball touch the racket three times before jumping up in the air and served the ball like an experienced and in-practice player. The ball flew right by your head and hit the ground outside of the boundary.

“Surely you didn't call me here to lose to me, did’ya?” A smug smirk stretched on his lips. And it irked you. In a different way than Suguru, sure, you still wanted to beat his ass in the game, but it did more for you than just aggravate you. That tightening sensation in your abdomen was back.

“No, I called you here to eat shit.” But god forbid you let yourself lose a match against some smug smart ass.

“Oh, ho ho, feisty, aren't we?” He chuckled at your shit talk. You sure didn't look like the type to shit-talk in that pretty white dress, with the wind flowing by you, asking him so politely to help with the ball dispenser.

He didn't get a time to register when you even served the ball; he was expecting another sharp reply. Instead he somehow managed to hit it back, and this time the ball stayed in the air for a while. Until you rushed forward and jumped up in the air and pushed the ball down with as much force as you could, one of his knees bent, and he slid forward to get the ball. Unfortunately, his focus went from the ball to you—the way your pretty white dress hugged you and how the skirt flipped up in the air when you made that jump, exposing more of your thighs and a glimpse of your also white panties and the little lace trim on them. This need started to brew within him, and he couldn't pinpoint what it exactly was; he is not some horny teenager, after all. And so the ball crossed the net and hit the ground, making his efforts useless.

“Huh, so you're not just all talk.”

“I am not the one running his tongue here.”

“Uh huh? We'll see who's left tongue-tied at the end then.”

“Yeah, you'd know more about that, since you're losing.”

And with a chuckle from him, you were in your position, legs spread out, racket in between your legs, ready for whatever he's about to throw your way.

Let's say you were far from tongue-tied even though you just lost.

“No, you were clearly out of the boundary there.” You walked up to the net, ready to swing your racket at him.

“Alright, alright, don't make up things now like a sore loser.” His racket fell out of his hands and landed on the ground as he walked towards the middle of the court. Meeting you behind the net.

“Sweets, please, you just could not keep up with me; it's ok to admit defeat.” That smile on his face, you wanted to smack it off, but not really.

“This one doesn't count!” You pulled the racket up to his face, not even cognizant of what you were doing at this point, blinded by the fury from your loss. “Alright, sure. Rematch then?” He grabbed the head of your racket and pulled you closer towards him; the net clung to your body, and you could feel his body against yours, with the barrier of the tennis court net between you two.

And you wish you had something to say. But you were finally tongue-tied.

“Satoru!”

Both of your heads turned towards the source of the voice, ever so familiar to both of you. Thankfully the distant silhouette of Suguru walking up to the court finally had you push away from the stranger's body. This guy you've known for mere hours, apparently named Satoru, suddenly had you at your wit's end. And somehow you had thanked Geto Suguru for interrupting your game, a first for everything, truly.

As Suguru walked up to the both of you, his usual furrowed eyebrows shot up to see you standing there looking clueless, with a racket in your hands. And he rushed his step a little more to get to you.

“And what are you doing here, huh?” His hands reached out in a fist. Which you gladly bumped in acknowledgement, and he instantly pulled you in for a hug. With one arm around your shoulders and another on top of your head, patting it, like he always did.

“Should've told me you're visiting. I saw you like months ago; you weren't even here for Christmas last year.” Suguru kept blabbering with you in his embrace, finally letting you go when you tapped on his chest to let you go for some air.

“You have to lose this habit, Sugu.” You two pulled away with a smile on your faces, glad to be running into each other after a while. It has been just texts and calls for the last few months, since your degree absolutely fucked you over, and so did your boyfriend and your friend.

“So what, you're here with your loser boyfriend?” Suguru placed an arm around your shoulders, and his smile started dimming down as he saw your genuine smile getting replaced with a tight, awkward one.

“Yeah, oh god, about that.” You explained to Suguru the whole situation with your ex-boyfriend and ex-friend, as his face started contorting in rage.

All the while, Satoru stood behind you two, leaning on the net between the courts; your hushed voices were barely audible to his ears. But one thing was clear to him: his best friend and this pretty stranger he just met a few hours ago sure had a great bond. The sort of friendship where even when you don't talk for months, you can see each other and hug instantly and spill your guts without any hesitation. Somewhere he felt a little envious, or left out maybe, unsure what it exactly was. The fact that his best friend had someone besides him whom he relied on so heavily, or the fact that you were smiling at Suguru with such ease. But then again, he literally just met you, and he's already getting ahead of himself. He doesn't even know your name yet.

Once you were done calming down a very angry and cursing Suguru, offering to beat up your ex, you finally noticed Satoru leaning on the net. And your eyes lingered on his, staring into each other's eyes, with something dense between you two, beyond physical and comprehensive explanations.

Suguru finally realized Satoru's presence, the reason why he ended up here anyway. And walked up to him, who was still staring at you instead of shifting his focus to Suguru. You felt pinned to where you stood, incapable of any movements under his gaze.

“You dumbass, you said you were going to take a break for a few minutes, and you disappeared for hours!” Suguru smacked his forehead, and finally his focus shifted from you as he got busy pouting and rubbing his forehead. So you used this opportunity to walk up to the benches to grab your bag, take out the water bottle, and check your phone. But even then, Satoru's gaze discreetly followed you there while also trying to give Suguru his attention.

“Oh, come on, it wasn't thaaaat long, and your parents left for the spa; why would I stay there and get my ass beaten up by you?” So there was another person beside you who would rather back out than go against Geto Suguru; it was somewhat comforting to know.

“Alright, sure. Anyway, how come you two are here? Together?” Suguru looked back at you and then again at Staoru.

“Oh, I was looking for a staff member, and he was just out there. Honestly I did not expect a golf cart driver to be much help to me anyway but—”

“Woah, wait, sweets, what do you mean?”

He stood up straight and had to cut you off. Because something about what you were saying told him that there was a bit of a misunderstanding here.

“And I was going to say this earlier as well: should you be speaking to a club member like this?” You walked up to the both of them and stood beside Suguru, looking a little disappointed at Satoru.

“Huh?” Genuine confusion poured out of his voice.

“I mean, as an employee here, you should—”

“Wait, wait, wait. So you actually think I work here?” He pointed a finger at himself and looked at you with confusion and dejection. So you've fucked up the calculation here, it seems.

“Oh, this is hilarious to me.” Suguru chimed in, hands folded over his chest, enjoying the mystery of Satoru's identity unfolding. Smirking to himself, enjoying his best friend's humiliation.

“I mean, you look like it. With the white polo and shorts and those sneakers with socks. In this weather, on top of it.” You tried to contain your smile while describing his outfit; it looked exactly like what some of the part-time, non-uniform-wearing employees wore to come off as more friendly.

“SEE! I told you, you look fucking stupid, Satoru!” Suguru’s voice shot up, and he pointed his index finger at Satoru in an accusatory tone. One you knew oh so well, the ‘Hah! I told you so!’ tone, and you felt bad for throwing Satoru in a situation you've hated being in in the past.

“I thought it was a good golf outfit, ok? I’M SORRY!” Satoru, in return, comically gestured at his attire to make a point for Suguru. If this whole exchange wasn't so funny, you'd have felt really bad for him.

“Yeah, and then you sucked at it on top of your horrible outfit. His father is so good at golf you'd think he'd be good as well.” Suguru looked at you, trying to put up a picture of Satoru's poor skills regarding anything golf.

“Shut up. Also, you have a lot to say for someone who made the same amount of holes as me.”

“That's because I am tired.”

“Excuses.”

Suddenly you were now a key witness for a whole crime that was about to take place; it felt like they were about to throw hands any moment. Fortunately, your phone, along with Suguru's phone, buzzed in your respective pockets. And even before checking, you both knew it was your parents.

“They're done, so should we head inside?” Suguru placed the phone back in his pocket after checking the text.

You nodded and gathered your bag to meet up with your parents and the Getos, along with the two men you ran into through a series of unexpected happenings. On the way, Suguru introduced you and Satoru to each other. You gave Satoru your name and a gist of how you grew up with Suguru. In return, you got to know that his full name was Gojo Satoru.

“I mean, I sort of know you already.” His side slightly bumped into yours as Suguru led you two into the building. You tilted your head in confusion, not sure where you even ran into someone this outstandingly gorgeous and then forgot about him. That's not possible; he doesn't have a forgettable face, even for someone like you who forgets people's names and faces really quickly. You were sure if you ever saw him, you wouldn't have forgotten him. If you ever walked past him on a busy street, even then you'd remember him.

“Well, Suguru talks about you sometimes, so it feels like I kind of know you already.”

You didn't know what was the cause of the fluttering sensation in your chest, the fact that Suguru cares about you enough that you get brought up in his conversations, or the gorgeous smile that Satoru threw after what he said, or was it simply what he said?

There have been plenty of times someone said they felt like they'd known you for a longer time than how long they actually knew you. And it always irked you to think someone you don't even know thinks they know you, presumably, well enough. Yet in this case you didn't feel that, maybe because he's Suguru's friend. But this wouldn't have been the first time you didn't like one of his friends, so that was not the case.

Maybe he was just some strange exception.

On your way back home, at dinner, after dinner, during breakfast the next morning—all your brain was occupied with was nothing but Gojo Satoru.

I mean, what choice did you have left when your parents wouldn't stop singing his praises? Truly simple they are. The whole story about how you thought he was a staff member was a hit. That, accompanied by some flirting with your mother and some bad dad jokes with your father, and now suddenly he is their favorite person ever.

If there was a tier list, surely it's Gojo Satoru, then Geto Suguru, only because he has broken a lot of your windows while playing catch as a kid, and lastly you. And you cannot argue with them. The man sure has his charms and knows how to use them.

Now that you are just standing by your window, with no one to influence your opinions or thoughts, you cannot help but go back to thinking about that man. For once you wanted to open your windows during the day, in hopes of catching a glimpse of something. Or someone, but you were still too stubborn to admit that to yourself.

But you still were fortunate enough to find what you were exactly looking for.

Satoru was in the Geto residence’s driveway, right across from your house, visibly clear from your windows. In a tank top that had a Sonic X logo in the middle, which was soaked in sweat and soap water. There were bubbles around his forehead, and his bangs were clumped up and wet. The sheen of the off-white car covered in soapy water reflected an angelic light and all the colors of the rainbow all over him. It was flashy and ridiculously expensive-looking, most probably imported from somewhere, flashier than most of your neighbor's cars, but it really suited him.

There was nothing remarkable about what he was doing; he was washing his car. And yet, to you it was somehow the most fascinating thing you've seen since you came back home, or maybe in years.

The shape of his muscles was making outlines in his tight-fitting, drenched top. That silly Sonic X logo somehow made him look cuter. And all it did was make your eyes drag upwards from there, towards the platinum chain sitting on his collarbones. It lay flat around the curve of his neck, and the taut muscles there, as he moved his arms back and forth to clean the car, the chain moved along with his movements. Bouncing off his skin to sit curved on his collarbones again and again.

His teeth grazed his bottom lip from time to time, but his eyebrows and eyes did not show any signs of frustration. How he was just standing in the sweltering sun, in a soggy tank top and shorts clinging to his body, soap all over him, hair semi-wet in that said water and sweat—it was beyond you. But you just could not look away from him.

But maybe the intensity of your eyes reached his skin better than the sun. He looked up from his car, right towards your house, and after a second, his eyes found your window. And also you, standing in the window, shocked to be found caught red-handed, not doing anything bad, but also nothing you were proud of.

Satoru's unoccupied hand moved up to wave at you with a sweet smile. And you malfunctioned. Instead of waving back at him like a normal person would, you hid behind your curtains. With a heaving chest, you stood there until you felt the heat rising up your body, going down. When you peeked outside, still hiding behind your curtains, you saw him leaning down on the car, with his arms folded under him, head tilted and eyes still directed towards your windows.

Now you certainly could not just come out and wave a hi back at him. So you did the sensible act of ducking down on the floor to crawl all the way to your door. You remained on the floor until you could shit your bedroom door behind you, and when you did so, your back went against it. For some support to get back up on your two feet, and even then it felt like it was impossible.

Your heartbeat was racing, and your entire body was burning up in a blaze.

Out of precaution, your windows remained shut for the rest of the day. And you kept your face buried in your pillows, trying to process the sudden influx of emotions that you were feeling. Unfamiliar and few feelings that people usually feel way earlier in their lives, and yet here you were, early in your twenties. It was not your fault you wasted the majority of your college life on some guy whom you only kept around because you were too scared. Too scared to be left behind and forgotten, you just did not want to be lonely. Even if that meant surrounding yourself with people you knew didn't give a shit about you. It somehow worked in high school, so naturally you thought it'd work out in university.

And now, slightly more mature and a little more comfortable with your own company, you found a strange guy who made you feel strange things.

It was a strange day altogether. Since you offered to accompany your parents to the club without being pressured. Even they were caught off guard, but there was no way they were about to fumble this with snarky comments. They will save it to throw them at you later at dinner.

It was a pleasant Saturday; if you ignore everything that happened by your window, a perfect day to go out to brunch instead of your usual coffee and toast breakfast before bed rotting. And after the events that happened earlier, you needed to get out, feel the warm wind blowing right in your face, and maybe forget how embarrassing the whole exchange was, if you can even call it that.

“Oh goodness, fancy running into you guys!” Your mother suddenly spoke out, looking towards the door behind you.

A part of you was too busy and too delighted by the waffles in front of you to mind your mother's words. While the rest of you already knew who these people could possibly be. Even though you reassured yourself that the Geto family usually doesn't come here on Saturdays, you were still dreading the possibility. And here you were, stumped and with a mouth full of waffles, about to be embarrassed for the second time in a day in less than 12 hours. A new record!

Chimes of good mornings came from behind you, first in Mr. and Mrs. Geto’s voices, then Suguru's voice, and lastly a very cheerful greeting by the one person you did not want to see today. Everyone was chatting as usual as they took a seat at your table. You also said your greetings to them, trying to not make eye contact with Satoru at all costs, even when you could feel his eyes on you as he sat down directly opposite to you.

“What a rare sight to see Miss holed-up-in-her-room.” Mr. Geto jokes.

“These days even vampires need some sun.” As stupid as the joke was, Mr. Geto came down with a boisterous laugh. He has always been an easy audience to please, or maybe it's his bias towards you.

“You two and your stupid jokes.” Suguru grumbled beside you, never a big fan of your and his father's sense of humor.

The table fell into an easy conversation. You caught up a bit more with the Getos, as you didn't get to see them after lunch the other day. And your parents seemed more fascinated by Satoru. Honestly, it was surprising to see your parents having this much interest in an individual your age, other than Geto Suguru. What was weirder was how well Satoru just got along with them, talking about whatever nonsense that is the stock market and business. You presume that his family is some big-shit conglomerate, surely. He found common ground with your mother about his fascination for art, even going as far as naming her art pieces that are his favorites. What a strange, strange man.

You have had an array of people around you over the years—friends from school, college, and some neighborhood friends—and none of them ever got along with your parents this well, except for Geto Suguru. They couldn't stand your high school friends, they warned you about your college friends, and they never warmed up to your boyfriend. You never officially introduced him, just that they unfortunately visited at a time he was also dropping by. Maybe you were wrong; maybe even they picked up on how miserable you have been regardless of a shitty boyfriend or not, given how much they visited in the last 6 months.

And now that you are back here, at this noisy table, this feels alright. It felt like home, and it felt safe, around people you care about. With the addition of a man who just aroused weird feelings within you, weird and incomprehensible. But it was also just a summer; it'll pass, it'll be gone in mere weeks.

It was just a normal and nice Saturday brunch until you felt something creeping up on your legs. It didn't feel like an insect or something; it was distinctly the shape of someone's toes. And the only possible answer to who it might be was sitting right across from you. His face was turned towards your father, with his eyes occasionally drifting to the corners to take unnoticeable glances at you. The way one of his hands was placed on top of the table and his other was perched on top of the back of his chair—no one could suspect anything unusual about him or what he was doing right under this table.

“You ok?” Suguru asked, seeing how suddenly you froze up, occasionally twitching in your seat. His toes were trying to map out the plain field, which was your legs. They tangled themselves in the strap of your sandals, which wrapped around your ankle, pulling on them tentatively and snapping them right back lightly, but the sensation could only be described as so good.

“Yeah. Just tired.” Suguru didn't look like he bought your excuse, but he was never someone to get involved in your business if you didn't want him to, so he went back to the book he was reading. And who honestly does that at a busy table like this? Anyway,

As Satoru's foot glided upwards, from your shin to the side of your knees and right between where your legs crossed. To prevent any further invasion of his foot. Yet you could still feel his toes scraping against the skin over the front of your thighs. Trying to dip between the gap where your thighs pressed together. And it didn't really try to probe in between them, just going up and down there, teasing you, barely giving anything, with hints of everything lying thick in the air.

And it was frustrating to sit there and take it all and to not let your legs open up themselves willingly. What was more frustrating was just when your legs were about to fall apart and open up, after trembling on their own, pressed together, to aid the feeling pooling in the bottom of your stomach, he swiftly pulled away his foot.

All while talking to your parents like the most ideal man out there. Like he is not trying to get in between their daughter's legs. The audacity of this man really amazed you, looking at the smile on his face, it's impossible even for the gods to realize what a sinister man he is. And honestly, these are the people you always have made sure to stay away from; cunning and charming was not something you were equipped to deal with.

But that scheming smile and those side glances across from you, boy, were fun.

“What is wrong with you?” You managed to corner Satoru before heading home. Making up some dumb excuse about leaving behind your hat (which you didn't even wear) to catch him before he could get to the men's restroom. Let the others wait for the two of you, thinking you were busy doing your own thing, while here you were trying to interrogate Gojo Satoru.

“I would like to think everything is perfectly fine with me.” He simply smiled at you, with either of his hands on his hips.

“No, I know you are fine—I mean—that you are—you know that is not what I am talking about!” It was all utterly cringe-worthy, the way it slipped past your lips, making you wish to bury yourself.

“Yeah? Maybe I am more interested in talking about how fine you think I am.” He walked a step closer to you, making you take a step backwards.

“Don't twist my words.” You dig your index finger into his chest, somehow his hard yet supple chest. You take the step forward that you backed away from, but he did not budge from where he was standing.

“Why would I? I’m not the one playing games here now, am I?” Satoru's head tilted to the right, and his face dipped slightly downwards to look you properly in the eyes. And when you had no answers to give, was it that you were lost about what he was exactly asking or lost in his eyes? It cannot be said for sure which it was.

“So why did you ignore me this morning?” At first you were dumbfounded about what he was even talking about, then the embarrassing moment you had by your windows came crashing down on you.

“I—I don't know. What do you mean?” You did your best to look him in the eyes while also trying to lie through your teeth.

“I mean, when you were checking me out this morning and when I waved at you, you just ignored me!” His eyebrows frowned a bit, and his lips jutted in a pout. If you were not digging a mental hole to bury yourself out of embarrassment, then you'd have rather shamelessly just admired how adorable he looked.

“It's just that, I was—” “You were…?”

“I was looking at the car you were washing! Yeah! It didn't look like, uh, what the Getos drive, so... yeah.” You've made bad excuses before and lied like a pro even, yet in this moment you felt like a criminal trying to get away from being convicted.

“Uh huh? You liked my car then?” Satoru narrowed his eyes at you, and his hands, which remained on his hips this entire time, added to what his eyes were saying—liar. But you nodded a yes with a tight smile, and suddenly instead of interrogating him, you were the one being interrogated.

“What color was it?”

“Huh?”

“My car. What color was it?”

For the love of everything, you could not remember what the hell the color of his car was! Sure, he could've asked you what the color of his shorts was, or the logo on his tank top, that mole under his left eye, or the dip between his collarbones, or perhaps the exact hex code for the color of his eyes—but he had to go and ask you about that stupid-ass car.

You knew you were fucked, and he knew he had you cornered. For that one step you took forward a few seconds ago, you now had to take two steps back, while he took three steps forward. Your whole charade was up, and your petty crush on your childhood friend's best friend was about to be aired out, and you were about to be embarrassed into the ground. You were sure this is it, but thank God for Geto Suguru, for once in your life, maybe. Your true angel in disguise!

“Oi! What’s taking you two so long?” Suguru asked while walking towards you two through the hallway, at the end of which you were being interrogated by Gojo Satoru.

“Oh! Satoru got lost, so I was helping him! It’s fine now. Let's go!” You enthusiastically said while walking towards Suguru in a hurry. Because if you spent another second around Satoru, you'd lose your mind.

You pushed Suguru’s back to make him walk away from the hallway, because another second here and he would start interrogating as well. So you pushed a reluctant and suspicious Suguru from behind, leaving a disappointed Satoru to follow your two’s lead outside. And mumbled to himself while looking at your back—

liar.

Since then, you did your best to avert the topic of conversation whenever Satoru tried to bring up your wandering eyes. Being in his close proximity was hard, especially when Suguru was not there. So you made sure he was always there when you were getting involved with Satoru. And yet there were always these moments that made you remember why you sometimes just cannot stand Suguru and his audacity.

“Y’wanna go to Lewis’ party this Saturday?” Suguru casually raised the question while still looking at his phone. Ignoring whatever silly flirting you and Satoru were doing, mostly him looking at you with heart eyes and you getting red like a beet at his little comments here and there. The horrible summer sun was already in the middle of the sky, and the tennis court itself felt like a frying pan.

So here you three were, drenched in sweat and clad in shorts and loose shirts, sitting under the apricot tree near the tennis court, pressed between the two men. The same tree under which you found Satoru, made assumptions in your head, and dubbed him as a hot new cart driver.

“He still does those?” You looked at Suguru while ignoring Satoru’s finger poking your cheek from your other side.

“Yeah, he still does, every summer. The dedication of that guy.” Suguru scoffed to himself and finally put his phone down to look at you after quickly throwing Satoru a side eye.

“Who is this guy?” Satoru’s head suddenly was right beside yours; his body was basically leaning into yours.

“Just some guy we went to school with; he throws these big parties every summer. He can be pretty douchey, though.” Suguru paused a second to think to himself before looking between you two and continuing with a smirk.

“Yeah, and this hotshot here dated him in high school.” Suguru’s hand landed on top of your head, slightly shaking it and patting it. And your own hands went to his wrist to shove it off you with a scoff.

“Oh please, it was like 5 months or less.” You rolled your eyes while leaning away from Suguru's hands; they can mess anyone up easily. “And it was nothing. Just some stupid summer fling.”

You looked over at Satoru briefly to gauge his reaction while simultaneously trying to ignore Suguru's teasing. It was honestly never the best idea to date the local party thrower; it meant everyone was up in your business. It was rough after the breakup, because not only did random people come up to you asking questions and being rude, but Lewis chased you around for another two weeks persistently. Thankfully he never had the best attention span.

You looked at Satoru with eyes that said, ‘please do not think I have bad taste!’

It was a lot to ask of Satoru when he did not even know the guy, and you did not know why you felt like you had to justify anything. After all, aren't you two just friends through a mutual connection? It did not feel right to watch Satoru stare at you and Suguru with a blank face while Suguru teased you about some stupid high school ex. But it also didn't feel right for Satoru to feel this bubbling jealousy within him, hearing about your old relationship with this guy you might potentially see tonight, whom you've known longer than you've known him.

“No, I get it. Sounds like a fun guy, huh?” Satoru's tone from earlier flattened just a notch. Not really noticeable to most people, but you and Suguru knew. You've known Satoru for barely a week and a half, and you've come to notice little changes in his voice almost the same way Suguru can notice them. The difference is, you use them as a cue to change topics to something that'll lift his spirits, while Suguru doubles down on things.

“Oh, the most fun guy ever! He threw gummy bears in his pool and timed himself on how fast he could fish out as many of them using just his mouth.” Suguru’s back went against the tree bark in a fit of laughter with a thud, remembering exactly what finally gave you the ick to break up with him. A mouthful of pool water and half-chewed gummies.

“Yeah, I am going to sit this one out. You guys have fun.” You rolled your eyes at Suguru, who was still laughing like a maniac, and stood up while dusting off your skirt.

“Huh, why? ‘ Cause he might try to smooch you with a mouth full of gummies and pool water again?” And Suguru was back to laughing like it could be a threat to his lungs.

Without any more words, because there were none to defend yourself for dating a frat guy and expecting an intellectual and respectable relationship out of it. You walked away after waving Satoru a goodbye and ignoring Suguru, who was by that point on the grass, tired from giving himself a one-man comedy show.

“She was looking forward to going out this weekend. Do you think she'll be ok?” Satoru asked Suguru while his eyes were trained on you walking on the grass.

“Yeah. She will be fine.” Suguru knew you better than him, so Satoru should barely doubt his words, but he couldn't help but needlessly worry when you didn't even look much bothered about the party other than the fact that Suguru just outed your dating history.

“If she's not, you can always check on her.” Suguru stood up and, similarly to you, dusted his shorts before extending an arm towards him.

Satoru did not say anything more to that, just grabbed onto his hand and stood back up on his feet. There was a silent understanding in the air that Suguru knew whatever Satoru was feeling. Suguru’s hand went up to his shoulder and placed itself there with a sharp slap. Satoru looked to his right and saw Suguru's eyes sharp and unforgiving, not his usual sly, half-smiling, kind eyes.

“If you do anything stupid or hurt her, it's on sight.” Satoru let out a wheezing laugh and placed his own hand on Suguru's shoulder while looking him in the eye.

“You got it.”

That's all they needed to speak on this. Any more, and Suguru would punch him square in the jaw unprovoked. It was not that Suguru was expecting him to sweep you off your feet or anything, and he knew Satoru was far from some prince charming. But he respects you two and trusts you, and despite his lifelong protective urges towards you, you were now a grown adult who was more than capable of making her own decisions, and he wanted to respect that. As long as Satoru didn't do anything stupid. Like that recent ex of yours, because when you go back on campus after the vacation, you might hear a thing or two about his fucked-up face or a neck collar.

Not that it had anything to do with Suguru, surely.

In the blink of your eyes, almost three weeks have gone by since you came back here. And two weeks since you met Gojo Satoru.

It was already Saturday night, and you were rotting in your bed as usual, trying to forget about the party that you truly had no will to go to. But somehow you could not help but let your mind wander there. Wondering how many people showed up, whether Suguru and Satoru were having a good time, and if Satoru found someone other than Suguru to talk to there. Which you assume he definitely did; he practically befriended everyone on your street, he is a favorite of the retired people at the country club, and he just blended right in with everyone.

It was one of those few summers you will be looking back at with a fond smile. All the parties you three crashed, all the nights you snuck away to the beach in Satoru’s off-white Maserati, all that weed you three burnt away in your room, the day when Suguru was cleaning up the garage and found the little inflatable pool in which you two used to play. It was hilarious for everyone to see three fully grown kids smooshed up in a little kids’ pool, splashing water at each other.

You have come to love the little watermelon plant that spontaneously shot up from the ground in your backyard, exactly where you three were shooting watermelon seeds with your mouths to see who could get the furthest. You got the flimsy little plant a support stake and made sure to water it every day because you did not want it to wither away in this summer heat.

Speaking of the summer heat, it seemed as though the weather started getting hotter from last night. When usually things cooled down after the sun set, everything your skin touched was sweating if the air conditioner was not on. And given the occasion tonight, you figured it was best to spend the entire Saturday at home. In the comfort of your bedroom, behind locked windows and doors, with the only source of light and noise being your laptop.

That was until the wind outside your windows started picking up. It made you feel some relief that it was not going to be a streak of horrible hot days.

The wind swung by your windows, making swishing noises and rattling the glass doors to your balcony. It made you want to shift your focus from the mind-numbing show playing on your screen to whatever that was going on outside. The swinging trees, sharp wind, dark red hued clouds in the night sky, Satoru trying to climb over your balcony railing, spark of lightning and faint sound of thunder-

Oh, wait, let's backtrack. Did you just see that correctly? Was Gojo Satoru trying to climb into your balcony? Because who else could be in that baby blue cotton shirt and bouncy tuft of white hair?

You rushed out of your bed, in your short shorts and tank top, probably as old as the eye bags that started to form under your eyes when you got into university. But you could not bother about that, or the crumbs of chips all over your top, and your unkempt and unbrushed hair. You just needed to get to Satoru in time before his wobbling body fell from your balcony and broke some bones in his body.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?” You grabbed onto his hand and pulled him towards you, then helped him jump over your balcony railings.

“Climbing your tower, Rapunzel. Even though your hair looks more like a bird's nest than a rope.” He flashed you the whole set of his teeth at the end of his joke. Teasing you, trying to elicit a response out of you, as always.

“I will throw you off my balcony.” You deadpanned in return, ready to push him off, with your hands on his chest, pushing him ever so lightly to not actually make him lose his balance on the edge. He flew to catch yours and held onto them as he erupted into giggles, and the wind blew by his hair, getting it all over his eyes and face. And yet he still looked effortlessly gorgeous, as if that's exactly how it was supposed to look.

“Ok, ok, I just came here ‘cause I got bored at that party; the gummy bear guy lost his edge. It was just people pretentiously gathering around the pool and going, ‘Oh! Are you studying there? I am going here!’ and Suguru fled with some girl, so here I am.” Satoru sat down on the floor of your balcony, with his back against the railing. And pulled you down to sit right in front of him, facing him, with hands still held in his.

“Also just missed ‘ya.” He said it with such ease and nonchalance, like it was the most obvious answer. It was just a simple little line that crossed more lines between you two than anything, boundaries that must exist in a friendship. All just gradually blurring out of existence.

“Y’wanna go to the pool?” He says to break your train of thought to get rid of the questions and silence in the air.

“You were just complaining about people gathering around a pool.”

“So? It was more of a critique of the crowd than the pool; the poor pool has seen some things—leave it alone!”

At this point your hands, which were in his grip, were forgotten. It was like the most natural thing. It feels as natural as pushing your glasses up on your head and forgetting about them.

“Ok, ok, but you want to swim in our pool in this weather? Also, I don't know when my parents last got it cleaned.” Since you came back, you've never once used that thing, and you were never exactly there to see when your parents’ pool boy came around to clean it.

“Not your pool, silly!” He bounced your hands with his, making a ripple of movement in your entire upper body. “Then?” “I meant the one at the club.”

You just blinked and watched him. With a smile on his face, he did not look one bit hesitant about his suggestion. And honestly, his idea made you want to rather check out how clean or not your pool is instead of trespassing on the property where your family was a regular.

“And how exactly do you plan on doing that without turning on alarms?”

“I know the security code.” Your narrowed eyes did not look convinced with his answer.

“How even—” “I play billiards with the general manager.” It did make sense for a social butterfly like Satoru himself to befriend the most terrifying guy in the entire club. The general manager was quite the grump; he was a nice old man. He helped you out of the pool once when you almost drowned because you wanted to join your then high school friends instead of being upfront about not knowing how to swim. The general manager later, when you seemed stable enough, scolded you while drying off your hair with a towel.

“That old man who is always annoyed at every living, breathing thing?”

“Yep. He said, I remind him of his late husband!” Which wasn't far off the mark; the general manager’s husband recently passed away from what you heard from our parents, leaving him to be more annoyed at everything. And Satoru had a similar, blasé positive energy radiating off of him.

“So you seduced him!?” You jokingly said before pulling your hands out of his and moving to sit beside him, similar to him, with your back to the railing, knees under your chin, and thighs close to your chest.

“Nope. The only person I am trying to seduce is you.” Satoru’s head tilted to the side, and he kept looking at you. Recently, since he caught you checking him out while he was washing his car, his words and actions towards you have gotten bolder.

“Well….you should try harder.” You tried to lighten the tension in the air, which was now at least two or three degrees colder and felt suffocatingly hot, until he spoke up, still staring right into your eyes, with a faint trace of a smile on his lips, “I will.”

There was nothing more left to say after what he said, nothing, not even a joke to retaliate against the frustrating tension hanging heavy between you, making it impossible for you to breathe normally around Satoru.

“So! You're coming with me, or should I kidnap you?” You wish you could say no, but there was no refusing Gojo Satoru; that much you've learned about him clearly in these last couple of weeks.

As you looked out of the glass of the front window, exactly where the headlights of Satoru's car fell, on the side gate of the country club, only accessible by the employees. And yet here you were, getting dragged out of the soft leather seat of the car to sneak through that door with Satoru. Follow his steps closely from behind as he leads you to the pool by dragging you by your hand.

Without any word, Satoru let go of your hand once you two stepped on the paved concrete around the pool. Going straight to strip down to his boxers, his back muscles flexed with each step he took towards the pool. And some of the cold water in the pool splashed on you as he dived inside.

“You comin’ or what?” Satoru then intentionally splashed some water your way, absolutely drenched in the chloride-smelling water.

“This is as far as I go.” You walked up to the edge of the pool and sat down with your legs in the water. It made you flinch at first, surprising you how quickly the water cooled down since the sun set. The water started to feel nicer around your skin as you watched Satoru do several laps in the water.

He looked magnificent. One second he was at one end of the pool, and in the blink of an eye he was on the other side. It was easy to lose sight of him; he used the water to his advantage like a pro, which made you wonder if he did swimming back in school. How else was he able to hold his breath underwater so long that it had you worried enough to not notice his silhouette coming up to your legs and dragging you in the water?

“What are you—” You would have slapped his hands instantly off of your thighs if you knew what he was actually up to when they slithered up on them. Instead you were now in the cold chloride water, in Gojo Satoru's arms, trying to grab onto his shoulder and locking your legs around his waist.

It took you a few good minutes to acclimate yourself. With the cold water, and the feeling of drenched shorts and shirt, and especially the feeling that came from being in his arms. You could feel his body radiating heat even in the cold water and the vibrations that rumbled in his chest from laughing at the state of you, a clueless cat thrown off-guard in water.

“You, you're so dead.” His laughs only became deeper at your threats, and his arms tightened around your waist.

“Oh, c’mon, a little water never did anyone harm.” Satoru finally stopped laughing and just smiled at you; his gaze could not remain just on your eyes—they wavered. His pretty blue eyes scaled your face as if he were an archaeologist who just found a new artifact.

And under the scrutiny of his eyes, you could not continue the banter. It was agonizing to have the little 3-inch gap between you two; it felt more like 3 miles. So you couldn't help but close that distance. Satoru had similar ideas, as he met you halfway through.

His lips were everything and more that you ever imagined and dreamed of.

They were soft, and they tasted faintly of those fruit candies he always crunched on: oranges, strawberries, lemons, and pineapples. And overall he oddly tasted of summer. Like the embodiment of everything you ever wanted from an ideal summer. As his lips slotted themselves with yours with more assurance after the first few pecks to measure the boundaries he could step on, you could feel the giddy tingles back in your stomach, shivers that prickled the back of your nape and ran down your spine, when his tongue pushed against yours.

The hand that crept from your waist to your ass and pushed you up in his arms, your arms tightened around his neck, and one of your own hands went up his nape to his hair, the ends of which were now drenched in the pool water. And you wondered how you've been living without this, without kissing him silly the very day you met him, light tan and sweat covering his body, and just a cap to shield his eyes from the glaring sun.

“Hey! Is someone there!?”

You pushed away from him in a snap when the voice reached your ears. You had to push Satoru away by his shoulders to stop him from chasing your lips from the lack of their warmth on his.

When the guard blew on his whistle, that's when his eyebrows shot up. You placed your index finger on his lips as you saw them part so his voice wouldn't confirm the security guard's suspicions. And he nodded his head once to let you know he won't.

In a swift few seconds, Satoru swam to the edge of the pool, with you now in both of his arms, like a princess he needed to cradle close to his heart to keep her safe—you found it silly. The platform in the pool on which he was standing was barely five and a half feet deeper than the surface of the water. It was absolutely possible for you to walk to the edge by yourself, but you liked being in his arms. Even if the wiser thing to do in this situation would've been to separately make a run for it.

Once you two were out of the pool, he grabbed onto your hand in one hand, took both of your shoes in another, and his clothes under his armpit, and then made a run for it. You both ran barefoot on the concrete and crushed the dewy grass under your feet.

��HEY! YOU TWO! STOP RIGHT THERE!” The guard tried to shine his flashlight on you two.

“Don't turn around.” Satoru said while dragging you two towards the main entrance, avoiding the pebble path, and instead running across the prohibited grass fields.

It was the most invigorating rush you've felt in years.

Satoru did not stop his car until he was far enough from the country club. He parked his car by the riverbank, turned off his engine, and finally lay back in his seat with an exasperated sigh. You two sat staring ahead towards the river, then towards your sides, when your eyes landed on each other, and neither of you could hold back your laughter.

It was the most natural thing to be here with him, in your drenched clothes, him in his boxers, in his expensive-ass car, laughing like you two did not just commit a crime, one moment; and in the next moment you're on his lap and kissing him hungrily.

It was so good.

There was something about the cramped space, especially how his car was built; there was even less space compared to other cars—something that you usually get annoyed at, especially when you end up in the excuse of a backseat because of Suguru and his stupid long legs, but this time around you did not mind it.

You did not mind when his hands roamed up your back, hot and dry, a clear contrast to your wet and soggy clothes. It felt like everything had slowed down, from the cars on the road down to the gravity, and it was just you and him, against each other, lips slotted together like two perfect pieces of a puzzle, tongues exploring every little crevice in your mouths, and hands all over one another. You could feel his cock growing under you in his soggy boxers, incentivizing you to move your hips in a slow rhythm. He wasn't even sure anymore if it was wet from the water or just his precum. You could not take your hands off his shoulders nor out of his hair, and he could not take his hands off your ass and hips. It was addictive, and in the humidity of the summer night, it was more than enough to drive you crazy.

Desperate to feel more of him, more of his skin, you tried to take off your t-shirt while still kissing him, reluctant to take your lips off of his, even just for a second.

“Wait, sweets-wait.” He spoke in between your lips and pushed himself away from you. Without any explanation, he opened the doors on his side and went out of the car and pulled you out as well.

He haphazardly opened his back backdoor, pushed his front seat forward to make more room for the two of you, and lightly pushed on your lower back to make you get inside. Which you did, and finally took off everything on your upper body, then laid down on the seat and held yourself by your elbows, waiting for him to get in as well.

“Get in here.” You asked him, as you moved forward, to pull him inside the car by his neck, and your lips were back on each other. Your hands traced the shape of his cock over his boxers, and you tried to take off his boxers and slip your hands inside.

“Uh-uh, you first, sweets.” You didn't really understand what he meant by that; you just stared at his pretty smile and trusted whatever he wanted to do. But you couldn't have guessed what he did next. His right hand grabbed the back of your knees, and his other hand was on the seat for support. With flawless movements, your back was flat against his car seat, and he was in between your legs.

He started from your temples, soft lingering kisses on your eyes, the tip of your nose, a peck on your lips, and on your jaw. Then he went on to suck and bite all around your neck, with every intention to leave marks visible to anyone who tried to stare at you longer than ten seconds, which was generous in his opinion.

“I've been itching to get my hands on these pretty things.” His hands got a hold of your tits, squeezing them, fingers teasing one nipple while the other felt salient attention from his mouth. As his mouth swirled around your areolas, and his teeth bit down and pulled on your nipples while maintaining clear eye contact with you, you could feel the wetness between your legs dripping down your slit.

“Ugh—Satoru, ah, fuck.” You didn't really have anything to add, other than the moans and grunts that left your mouth. And his hands remained on your hips, rubbing up and down in soothing movements, as his lips continued to kiss downward once he had his fill of teasing your tits and was satisfied with the amount of marks he left behind on each mound and the valley in between them. A true scenic masterpiece in his opinion.

He stopped right above the waistband of your shorts before pulling them down with careful and calculated movements until you lay bare before his eyes. “Hah. No panties, huh?” He placed his mouth above your pelvic bone, right before your clit, and you could feel his mouth stretching into that very familiar devious smile on your skin.

“Sato—”

Your words remained in your mouth, and instead you let out a sharp yelp as his tongue took a long strip of lick from under your navel down to your clit. It was an awkward position to be stuck in, half bent, back almost hitting the ceiling of his car, one knee on the floor of his car, between his legs, and his foot was pressed against the door. But nothing bothered him more than the lack of your taste on his tongue.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You kept on chanting as your hands went to get a tight grip in your hair, almost pulling out a patch of white pearly hair, as his tongue continued to swirl around your clit. And the hands around your hips moved down to your thighs as they tightened around his head, holding a deathly grip around them but doing nothing to loosen them, probably digging his nails deep enough to leave marks and broken skin.

“Oh, I've fucking dreamed of dying between these pretty things. Fuck. Do your worst, baby.”

You wish you were the one wrecking him, even if he insisted he was the one blissed right out of his mind, between your legs, tongue teasing your pussy lips. One look at your face and anyone could tell who was absolutely fucked here. There was nothing imploring about how he dove right in like a starved man at your mercy. His teeth pulled your lips open to lick a long and anguished strip down from your clit to your now twitching hole. And in went his tongue.

Burning hotter than the summer sun, you were a puddle on his lips, like a melting popsicle.

“Sht—shit, shit. Ugh, ah, AH!”

Each one of your moans was returned with the vibration of his own grunts and moans, which ran through your core, making it worse for you to hold onto any semblance of sanity that remained intact. And it was hard to do that when his left hand was kneading your abdomen, and his thumb was rubbing away on your clit, and his right hand was digging into your thighs, pulling them up on his shoulder, all the while his lips sucked away every drop of arousal your cunt dripped, and his tongue poked around your walls.

“Please, Satoru, just—just please, want—no, need you inside.” You took one of your hands from where it was in his hair, which was now almost dry, and placed it on top of his hand on your abdomen. And without even moving his face, his fingers intertwined with yours and held onto them for his dear life as he finished giving you the first of the many orgasms for tonight.

“FUCK, Sat— AH, ah.” And you had nothing more than broken moans and words stuck in your throat to let out.

It was only when he was done lapping up everything with nimble licks that his hand let go of yours, which was shaking and almost numb. “Not just yet, sweets; gotta stretch you out properly.”

And the fingers that were just tangled with yours were now inside you. You were simply so out of it that you didn't even realize when his tongue got replaced with his finger, one at first, slowly mapping out the shape and ridges of your walls from within. Then two more to stretch you out well enough to accommodate him.

“There!” Your eyes rolled back in your head, and your head went back as his fingers found that one spot that almost drove you right over the edge in mere seconds.

“Here?” His head tilted as he pulled his fingers halfway out, teasing you even in this state, and saying things like he was the pitiful one in this equation. What a liar.

“Satoru, for fuck's sake!” Your hands flew to cover your eyes as your back arched off of the car seat; if it weren't for his right hand and shoulder holding you down, you would've probably fallen off.

“You surely know how to ask nicely for what you y’want.” You could see him smiling like a little shit between your legs when you took your hands off your eyes and instead dug your nails into his expensive car seat. Not like he minded.

“Will you just let me cum, Satoru?” Your tone was faux sweet, wavering at the mercy of his fingers turning inside of you.

“I need you to beg properly, baby.”

Satoru’s instructions came out as a matter-of-fact; his smile disappeared and left behind the piercing cerulean eyes, boring into your soul.

“Pleas—please, please, Satoru, let me cum.” Never in your life have you ever begged for anything like this; this was a first, and you could not be more glad that it was Gojo Satoru in between your legs, eliciting these embarrassing sides of you, instead of someone else.

And his smile returned to his face, and his fingers went right to work. It took him no more than two minutes to have you come undone on his fingers for the second time since you two ended up in his car. And there was nothing but exasperated breathing in the air, which Satoru assumed was probably more humid than the air outside, when he saw the windows fogged up. It made him chuckle to himself, thinking how cliché this was. But given the state he has gotten you in, he can't waste any more time before you pass out from just two orgasms. So he sat up and got rid of his underwear, finally feeling less suffocated.

“Don't have any condoms, sweets.” Satoru caressed the side of your face, making sure you didn't already pass out. He had no intention of pressuring you into anything; one word and he is cleaning you up, getting you some water, and driving you home to tuck you in your bed and cuddle you to sleep.

“Don't fucking care…… on birth control.” He chuckled at your scrambling and slurred words before he maneuvered you so that one of your legs was on his shoulder and the other was over his thigh, around his waist. He rubbed the head of his cock in your folds, getting whatever leftover juices that he could not lick clean all over his cock.

“WILL YOU JUST GET INSIDE?” You could not just tolerate any more of his teasing, so you had to take things into your own hands. Literally, as you moved one hand between the both of you and pushed his tip inside you, that was enough to have you flat on your back, unable to initiate anything else. Satoru also leaned forward from the sudden sensation of your slippery warm walls.

“Ah, fuck, don't rush it, sweets.” His whimpering was not helping you any more than the burning stretch you felt from just his tip. And he could tell from how your mouth fell open and the nails that dug into his seats harder than before. So he gave the both of you a second to adjust. It was no easy job to acclimate to the heat that you offered; it was dizzying, but he welcomed this heat over the burning sun.

“I’m goin’ in.” It was only after you gave him a late nod that he pushed the rest of him inside of you. And both of your yelps and grunts remained in the car. But surely if someone passed by, either one of your moans was enough to make them figure out the obvious.

Once he was inside, you assumed the never-ending dizziness that you felt around him, the rush of accidental touches, and heavy breaths—it'll all come to an end. Unfortunately, nothing really stopped; instead, there was something worse, something hotter and more imprudent between you two now. Each thrust of his hips and the kisses that he placed on your legs: everything was incinerating. And you wanted it all; it didn't matter if it was forever or a week, you needed this summer to never end.

“Ah—so good, sweets, so good to me.” Satoru kept on placing kisses around your shin, your ankle, and your knees, even leaning slightly down to bite down on your thighs. While his other hand pushed down on your abdomen, you felt his cock going in and out of you, and it was all so surreal—the warmth of your walls, your drooling mouth, the whimpers that left your throat, and those glazed eyes that refused to look away from him. And he didn't want this moment to ever end; he didn't want to pretend like every passing touch of your skin didn't burn him alive, that he could live on from here on forward without having you in his grasp.

“I, I’m coming, ‘toru.”

“Fuck, sweets—come with me. Please.”

He dropped your leg on the seat and pulled you on his lap, even while he still remained buried within you. In those last few minutes, he didn't move his hips with the same fervor as before; you two just grinned at each other, chasing your highs, the rush of having each other all to yourselves. With his face buried in your neck, kissing everywhere, down from the column of your neck to your jaw and finally to your lips, his arms around you tightened. And your nails dug into his shoulders as your tongues tangled with one another again, and this time you could taste the remnants of yourself in his mouth. As you both broke away from the kiss, with a single string of aliga connecting you two, all it took was one look for the both of you to come simultaneously.

“Fuck… fuck, fuck, sweets.”

“I know—I know, Satoru.”

And you two came together, holding onto each other for your dear lives, kissing one another into some other worldly ecstasy. You could feel his cum shooting up and pooling inside of you, and he could feel you twitching in his arms, your walls tightening, getting warmer with his cum dripping down and slipping out between you two. It took a while for you to come down from the high, and yet neither of you was willing to let go.

“Are you ok, sweets?” He asked while placing feather-light kisses on your shoulders while nudging your head slightly that remained steady on his shoulder.

“Mmhmm.” You did not have anything in you to utter a single comprehensible sentence. And Satoru knew that well enough to not push you any more; he chuckled to himself and let himself enjoy your company like this for a little longer. And he told himself a few minutes more, and then he'll properly clean you up and take you home.

While you drifted away into sleep, with a matching smile on your face, you told yourself how different this summer has been. And how, despite the disgusting heat and humidity, you never wanted this summer to end. To have one another in your arms, with reciprocity, and with the same rush that made your head silly that day you met—it was so good.

And you wanted the best out of this summer.

a/n: dividers by @/omi-resources. pictures from Pinterest, art by @/m0ryy

lmao ik i have two big wips in the works rn but lol when i saw moryy's art my mind just suddenly flooded with this plot and i was already singing rush by Troye Sivan in my head for the last few days lol ok and i have like 4 exams tmr bye i gotta cry and study.

tag list: @cheralith @madamechrissy @gojosperms @teddytoru @cuntphoric @cuntyji @cuntphoric @aishi-toru @rriwyu @exquisink @lover-lyn @buckysm @wwwritererm @soupicidesquad @indiewritesxoxo @gojosconsort @shouiow @user25384959574 @dxmnsaera @kazupop @slayzzz @undercvrfan444 @miizuzu @getoistic @infinitatis-ink @theorphicangel @ricecake-mochi @emochosoluvr

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madamechrissy · 1 day ago

Text

Blueberry Yum Yum

The art in this banner is from my AMAZING moot @sweetlandspos who makes the most delicious Kuna art ahhh! go follow her <3

pairings - Fratboy Plug Sukuna x Nerdy stoner reader

summary You decide to ask your plug, Ryomen Sukuna for a hook up - but can he match your freak!? Just a fun ass oneshot about falling for your hot ass plug - he won't give you free weed though! :') WC- 11k

warnings - college AU, explicit sex, oral ( m and f receiving) Sukuna whimpering, reader is a nerdy lil freaakkk, weed smoking, jealousy, Sukuna talking shit, p in v sex - with and without protection, cum swallowing (both) tummy bulges, back shots, Kuna has piercings hehe, aftercare, Sukuna being a little yandere tbh

Comments/rbs so appreciated if you enjoyy - also I hit 18k followers the other day, I wanted to thank you all so muchhh for following me! :')

"What if we like... had sex?" Sukuna starts coughing up the thick smoke of his purple haze, wondering if it's fucking laced with something as you sit there, blunt in your hand and your legs crossed, casually smoking it as if you brought up the fucking weather.

"The fuck did you say!?" He demands after he catches his breath, you inhale your blunt now, you're by far his nerdiest client, you shocked him when you asked to buy from him the first time.

You scream good girl, certified Velma from Scooby-Doo - annoying 'actually - jinkies' nerd. The two of you even hanging out was a fucking anomaly, a mathlete and a frat boy, one he didn't try to figure out. He enjoyed selling weed to you and smoking with you, hearing your stupidly intelligent thoughts, he enjoyed looking at you too. Sure you were fucking gorgeous in that soft, sweet way.

So what the fuck was this!?

"It's been a while," you murmur, handing him the blunt back now, he takes a huge rip, coughing again as you speak. "If I'm not really your type it's cool."

"If you're... you... I..."

"Shit, it's fine. Calm down. Just was thinking it'd be fun." He keeps staring at you, mouth wide open, and you sigh, rolling your eyes. "Dude it's fine don't freak out. Forget it."

"Forget it? The fuck?" He's glaring ruby eyes at you, while you take a wad of money out of your little black backpack, decorated with anime pins all over and a ridiculous amount of keychains.

"Here," you hand him the cash, fingers brushing for a moment while he just stares. "Shit, I made it weird."

"Yeah you fucking did. Who just says that?" He glares right at you, thin brows low over his narrowed eyes, those sooty pink lashes too fucking pretty and long, god you're jealous of them!? Are they so pretty because you're baked?

"Sukuna, you've fucked like half the girls I know, I have heard you're pretty good at it." He blinks again at that, a rare blush to his cheeks, not fitting his cocky persona while you put out the blunt, letting it smoke against the tray. "Here's the money. Thanks again."

You turn, and he grips your wrist, pausing you, it feels way too good. Not only has it been way too long, Sukuna was fucking hot, every time he got too close you felt that heat, you literally clenched when he just brushed a big hand across your shoulder to grab something. And your boyfriend broke up with you six months ago, you thought maybe it would be fun to fuck him, Sukuna is sexy as fuck and chill. Now you want to disappear, clearly reading the room wrong as usual.

You suck at that.

"You wanna fuck me? What, like... some friends with benefits? Or one time shit?" He stands, hovering so fucking tall, you turn and look at him, blazed whites of his eyes red, you swallow nervously, eyeing the tattoos on his chest in that thin white wifebeater that's just unfair to wear around you while you're ovulating, you can see his nipple piercings through it, and it's doing too much.

"I thought like once, if we liked it sure we could do it more. If we're both single and... get along... plus you're hot."

"Yeah I am." He grins and you roll your eyes.

"You know... never mind."

"Wait brat, shit." You sigh, looking up at him now, as he turns you to him, his cock twitching just looking at your dilated eyes behind thick glasses, your parted lips. His fingers brush against the softness of your sweater, watching your nipples press against the material.

"It's cool if you don't want to. Like I am chill about it promise." He fingers the edge of your sweater, blitzed off his ass wondering if you're some fucking dream for a moment. But he feels the heat of your skin as his fingers slip up your waist.

"Think you can keep up with me, huh brat?" He murmurs then, snarky with his smirk. You step closer, your finger drifting up his hard chest.

"The question is if you can keep up with me, Sukuna." He scoffs at that, raising a brow that has two little barbells - eyebrows shouldn’t be so sexy, but then Ryomen Sukuna just is sexy, everything about him from his tattoos and piercings, to his ridiculously strong body. His height, his face… his eyes.

It’s no wonder girls do flock to him.

“Me, keep up with you?” He’s chuckling now, sitting on the couch, legs spread wide, impossibly cocky as he eyes you, acting like his heart isn’t racing when you set down your bag. “You won’t get any free weed from it.”

“I don’t want free weed, and you’re kind of an ass.” He chuckles again, when you sink to your knees however he falters, vermillion lips parted, you unbuckle him and look right under your glasses at him then, smiling just a bit.

Are you… cocky too!?

Sukuna hasn’t ever had this happen, someone just smiling as they unbuckle him with ease, he’s sure though when you see his cock you’ll pause. He’s a solid ten inches and thick as fuck, even if you’re some dick sucking pro, you’re gonna give pause. Your eyes widen then, licking your lower lip, making him ache to kiss you.

What are these corny ass thoughts!? He’s scowling at them, irritated that you on your knees has him, Sukuna, nervous!? Since when is he nervous about shit- and when you’re revealing him, and he doesn’t even help you tug down his black silky boxers, you let out a little whine that almost ends him. His hand enwraps in your hair, and your eyes meet his again.

Why are they so pretty? Why is he thinking that instead of being excited to get a blow job, as usual? You’re running your finger over his tip, making his hips jerk just a bit, moaning softly. “Are you sensitive, Sukuna?”

“Am I… you’re a brat, ya know that?” He glares as you giggle, acting like his cock isn’t way too fucking big, and you’re figuring out if you’ll be able to walk after this. “Stop teasing and show me what you got, running that pretty mouth huh?”

His thumb brushes the plump lower lip, you stroke him then, looking right at him as the rough pad of his thumb caresses soft lips, calloused from years of football but so gentle over little teeth indentations on your skin. You swallow, a little nervous suddenly, before taking a breath and leaning forward, pink tongue lapping at the precum already oozing from his slit.

Sukuna whimpers when you do.

You think you imagine it, this giant man whimpering, but as you lap again at his reddened tip, your hand slipping down his thick length, he does it again, quieter, hand pulling your hair so hard tears prick your eyes. The sight is so sexy you can’t take it, taking more of his thick tip deep in your mouth then, looking up as you suck him, your glasses fogging up from your breath.

“Oh, fuck…” He shakes it off, biting back another pathetic whimper as you start sucking hard then, he’s acting like he’s controlling your movements but he’s just pulling your hair, watching as you make more and more of his cock disappear. “Can you take more, brat?”

“Sure can,” you taunt, pulling back with a suctioned pop, but he is intimidating. But damned if you would back down from a challenge. You have next to no gag reflex, but you’ve never had a cock this big to contend with. You start sucking him deeper, head bobbing, the sounds of your saliva and his cock fucking your mouth lewd in Sukuna’s apartment.

The sight of him losing it as you suck his cock deeper in your throat, until he’s burning and stretching it with his thrusts is far too attractive, you can’t help but clench your thighs, grinding on nothing for friction watching him. His red eyes are bright, pupils shrunk to pinpoints as he fucks into your throat, the mix of need and the weed making you even wetter.

Whatever strain this was, it was making you unreasonably horny.

“That’s it, suck me deeper if you can,” he taunts softly, hips bucking up as he cups your face almost gently, fucking your throat so deep, feeling it tighten as you reach down and play with yourself under your skirt. “Fuck, fuck, fuuckk…”

You’re swallowing all you can, relaxing your throat as you find your clit, moaning then and vibrating right around his cock as he fucks your face. Your hair falls, and he uses one hand to hold it into a ponytail, letting out the weak little whine again while you slide two little fingers in your slick hole, aching for his cock inside you - even if you couldn’t walk the next day.

You’re thinking of how perfect all the ridges and veins would feel while you keep fingering yourself, tears pricking your eyes, glasses so fogged you can hardly see. He’s so close to cumming from just a few minutes of your mouth it’s pathetic, he yanks you off him then, looking down and seeing your hand between your thighs.

“What’re you-” You’re slipping your panties off eagerly then, straddling him and making his breath catch when you grind on his cock. “Let me touch you, fuck…”

“Don’t need it.” He glares ruby eyes at your audacity- he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get to touch your body, your tits that are enticing him with every breath, that soppy little pussy.

“Well I do, fuck you’re slutty, huh?” You ignore him, focusing on how good his hot, heavy cock feels between your slit, whining out when he yanks down your sweater, revealing your lacy bra.

“Fuck me, please,” he huffs at that, revealing a pretty breast and moaning, thumb brushing over your pretty nipple, making you whine. “Ah!”

“Let me take my time, shit,” he mumbles, sucking your nipple into his mouth then, your hands entangle in spiky pink locks, feeling the softness of his hair as his other hand grips your ass under your skirt, dragging you over his cock. “This soaked, how? Haven’t touched you.”

“Touched myself,” he glares again, sucking your other nipple, having both your perfect breasts out for his mouth, while his hands sink into your hips, grinding that cock against your clit then, watching your head fall back. “Mnh!”

“You touched yourself, sucking me got you that excited?” He taunts, only for you to reach down, stroking his cock again, watching the blush on his cheeks as you move it up and down, twisting your fist just so. “Fuck…”

“Condoms?” You whisper, he nods, tapping your hip real quick for you to get off him. When he’s back with a gold magnum from the drawer, you’re straddling him again, but he’s lifting you up, sinking two of his fingers in your cunt now, and you whine out at the stretch. “Ah!”

“God, you’re tight… fuck…” He groans as his fingers curl inside your slick, gummy walls, gripping him so good, watching your eyes roll back into your skull. “Think you can take this cock, really?”

“Y-yes, I c-can…” he chuckles, shaking his head and hitting your spongy spot now, making your cunt gush down his fingers as you cry out.

“Cum f’me first,” he murmurs - he would never let a girl not cum before he gets his cock in her. He’d love to eat you out but you’re not giving him many chances to do shit. He’d love to kiss you, but he’s leaning back watching you fall apart for him, nodding just a bit when he curls them just right in your hole, gasping. “That’s it, can’t help yourself can you, slutty little brat?”

You should be offended, but you’re shattering for his thick fingers, gushing as the orgasm smacks you, rushing all over your body until you’re making a mess, the sound loud and echoing as he groans. Watching you cum, intense as he stares, something you’re not used to - gasping out when he sucks your juices off his fingers, moaning while he cheeks hollow.

He’s tasting you.

The sight has you faltering for a moment, cunt pulsing from aftershocks as you watch him, hearing his moan, when he hands you the gold wrapper. “Fuck, you taste that good?”

“It could be the weed,” you tease, breathless. He chuckles a bit, leaning forward, pressing a kiss on your lips, unsure of what you were okay with. But you meet his lips, and that’s when Sukuna almost cums then and there, he’s never felt whatever the fuck that is. “Mmm, your lips are so soft.”

“Surprise you?” He teases, but you nod a bit, a rough man with plush lips so soft they’re pillowy is surprising. “Take what you want, brat.”

God he’s fine as fuck.

You’re hiding your nerves when you tear open the packet, slipping it over his huge cock, did it get bigger, harder somehow!? Even the magnum barely stretches over him as you roll it down his shaft slowly, watching his sooty pink lashes flutter as you do. His lips kiss yours again, and you taste yourself on his lips, when his tongue slips into your mouth.

A mix of weed and your juices, along with something sweet - whatever flavor Sukuna is.

It’s too intimate then, yeah you’ve last fucked your boyfriend, but you’re not inexperienced either with hook ups or a friend with benefits. You’re choosy, but you’ve done this - but for whatever reason your heart races as he lets you take what you want, as his tongue ring clicks against your teeth, and you picture how good it’d feel everywhere, your tummy tightening.

The scent of the weed still smoking out in that ash tray mixes with his cologne, heady and dizzying, your glasses get so fogged you take them off, earning his chuckle as he pulls them off, sitting them on the table. “You blind now?”

“Literally… I can still see you though.” You whisper, it makes his heart race, seeing your eyes without them for the first time, he cups your face as you rub his latex covered tip on your soppy cunt.

“Pretty fucking eyes, shit,” he curses then, seeing them grow lidded, as your tight little hole starts sucking him in.

“Fuck…”

You both whisper it at the same time, as you sink down on his cock, bit by bit, and he can’t help his moan, loud as his hands move to grip your skirt, yanking it up and using it to pull you down. Your gasp fills his ears with the squelching of your greedy, slutty little cunt sinking more and more on him, and he can’t help but think if he was raw he’d already have busted.

That would be so fucking embarassing, he is Ryomen Sukuna!

He thanks god for the layer, but it still feels far too good, your cunt so tight, gripping him as you move your hips, rolling them in a way no woman should know how to do. He’s pausing you when you do it again, glaring. “You know how to ride cock that fucking good?”

“Show me what you got, Sukuna,” you whisper, acting like his cock wasn’t burning with that stretch, like you weren’t on the edge. He glares now, picking your hips up with those huge fucking hands, slamming you until he’s against your cervix now, watching with a mean grin as you scream out. “Oh my g-god!”

“Ride it now, huh pretty little slut?” He whispers, repeating it again, hands leaving marks on your ass as his fingers sink into the fat of it. “Where’s all that talk?”

You glare, shoving his back against his soft leather couch, moving your hips again and eliciting that whimper, making you smile. “You whimpering, Sukuna?”

“Oh I’ll fuck your vocal chords up next time, swear to - mmm…” he’s crying out again as your fingers grip his soft shirt, and you glide up and down his cock again. “Fucking brat.”

“Mmhmm, can you handle it?” You’re gliding up and down his cock, watching him fall apart even with your blurry ass vision you see it, how handsome he is, feeling his strength as his hands wrap your waist, and he bites his lower lip, brows drawing together as you hit just that spot in your cervix. “Mnh!”

Sukuna groans, kissing down your collar bone, your tits bounce as you work him, and he’s worried you were fucking right, how can he hold back his cum when your cunt is gripping him like that!? He’s lifting you up, slamming you back down hard, you scream out, your nails pressing into his shoulders, and he does it again, again, harder inside you, until you fucking drool.

“That’s it, can’t talk shit stuffed full of this cock, huh?” You don’t talk shit back, your eyes are rolled back as he fucks his hips up into you, holding you right up in the goddamn air damn near and using you like a little fuck toy. “That’s it, gonna cum aren’t you?”

You answer that when he slams hard and hits your cervix again, reaching down to find your clit with the rough pad of his thumb. “Sukuna!”

God, you crying out his name fucks him up, when he rolls it, feeling how soaked you are, making a mess down his thighs and yours, dripping with how much wetness is pouring. “That’s it, can’t help yourself,”

He’s pressing too perfectly, hitting that spot in you again when his tip drags along your slick walls, and you’re screaming out, the orgasm so hard it’s blinding, you’re trembling in his hold while he watches you, moaning at the sight. Your scream is ridiculous when he pulls back his thumb, sucking more of you off him before bottoming out inside you as much as he can.

“Ah! Sukuna…” You cum so hard you have tears of overstimulation, two little ones falling, just making you hotter. Sukuna groans, fucking up into you again and again, wrapping his arms around you as he moves you, and your cries are caught by his lips. “Mmm!”

“Mmm,” he’s lost inside you then, your little body moved where he wants you, your lips parted in screams that he drinks. Sukuna’s close, so fucking close, slowing his thrusts then and looking at you, saliva hanging from between your joined lips when they fall apart. “Fuck you’re pretty.”

“I a-am?” You whisper, confused and fucked out. Sukuna didn’t seem the sweet words type of guy, he swallows, adam's apple bobbing as he pulses inside you, making you whine out again.

“Shut up,” he scowls, you blink and giggle breathlessly then, trying to roll your hips only for him to smack the fuck out of your ass. “No more of that, I’m about to…”

“Cum.” You whisper, rolling them and earning another smack, loud and stinging your skin, just making you more desperate. “Cum for me, Sukuna.”

“Brat.” He huffs, sinking his sharp teeth into your neck, making you gasp out at the sharp tearing of your delicate skin, when you feel him fuck into you hard, his thick cock ruining your cunt, while he’s teeth hurt so bad you’re cumming from the fucking pain.

You shouldn’t have talked shit.

He’s way too big for it all, smacks of skin louder when he uses you, moves you, all you can do is gasp and cling to him, while he’s busting inside that condom finally, slowing as he moans right in your fucking ear. You’re clinging to his back, nails pressing in, screaming out as he pulses so deep, rocking you on his cock himself now, tongue slipping up the curve of your neck as he busts.

He’s never cum like that.

He can’t see for a fucking second, biting back that whine as he nips at your ear, barbell flicking against it, and he feels your aftershocks milking him, picturing filling that cunt up so full then. The thought makes him leak more and more cum inside the barrier he wants to rip the fuck off, groaning out as he hears your little whimper, as he feels you trembling under his hands as the run across your skin.

He wants you all naked, spread for him, hands slipping over curves he only got to see bits of. Wants to see that pretty cunt spread wide for him, shit he felt it - how does it look? How would it look pouring out cum for him? He’s kissing you again, rocking you on him, still hard inside your tight walls, which keep quivering around him, until he pulls back, looking at your fucked out face.

Holy fuck. - It’s all you can think in your head, mouth opening and shutting, when he smirks up at you.

“Think I kept up with you huh?”

“Shit…” You just take a breath, smiling a bit then. “I took it easy on you.”

“What now?” He glares again as you giggle, easing off him, hissing at how sore you are. “Acting like you can even walk after that?”

“I can walk f-fine.” Your thighs are aching, trembling when you stubbornly stand, blushing as you look at the cum spurted into his condom, so much of it too, it makes your throat go dry, wanting to swallow him up next time -

Next time - Would he want one?

You shouldn’t care, but you feel it, the nagging need again that shouldn’t exist, when you grab your glasses, putting them back on and bringing him even more clearly into your vision. He stands up then, walking over and throwing the condom out, wincing as he touches himself, so sensitive and still throbbing, while he watches you slip your panties back on.

“No free weed huh?” You tease, he chuckles then, shaking his head - as if you didn’t suck dick so good he wouldn’t buy you a fucking rock if you wanted to do that every day.

“No way,” he teases back, you brush back your messy hair, giggling a bit when he comes back, buttoning his pants. “Want me to fix your hair? Looks like shit.”

“You are a dick!” He smirks again, but you nod, and he grabs a brush, a flat black one with a wide handle. “You don’t have to.”

“I fucked it up, might as well fix it,” his voice is husky then, he turns you around, slowly running it through the tangles he’d caused, and something feels way too easy, too perfect. Your head falls back a bit, eyes fluttering shut, he’s sweeter than you thought he’d be, that’s all.

Right?

He’s methodically running it through your hair slowly, until it’s much closer to where it was when you walked in, and for a moment you feel so vulnerable, sucking his dick and riding him was intimate, but this feels even moreso. Aftercare is not something you’re crazy familiar with, you were always one to dart out of wherever you were after sex.

But you don’t really want to leave.

You’ll blame the weed and his huge cock, for your mind turning to mush, when he starts braiding your hair. “Sukuna, what are you up to?”

“Shut it, think it’ll look good on you,” he huffs, running his fingers through your strands now. He’d braided hair a ton during endless football events where the cheerleaders joined in, a lot of the football guys were actually pretty good at that and even curling hair.

Your hair is silky and gently falling through his fingers as they card through it, until he holds out a hand for a ponytail. You take one of the few off your wrist when he finishes his work, slipping it over your shoulder. You touch it gently, feeling far too many emotions hitting your throat then at the sweet gesture from an outwardly rough and brash man.

“Does it look cute back there?” You tease, looking up at him, and he clears his throat then.

“I’d love to see how you look from the back,” his husky words are met with a tug on your braid, you bite back a gasp at how good it feels - when his doorbell rings, making him grimace. “Yeah what?”

“Sukuna, open up,” he hears Satoru’s pouty voice, making him sigh, and you step away now, hastily grabbing your back, looking at him. Your little braid is tempting him to no end, to yank it, to bend you over the couch, so much he can hardly fucking stand it.

He’d always found you pretty, but it’s like he can’t get his eyes off you after it, after kissing you.

The fuck is in this weed!?

“Sukuna!”

“God, hold on.” He sighs and walks over, opening the door while you grab your lighter, decorated with some nerdy anime guy you seem to be obsessed with. He’s on the back of your car and on your bag, he noticed.

Sukuna looked better than any anime guy, surely.

Satoru and Suguru are at the door now, holding up baggies of weed, bright blue and green nugs that look way too pretty and fluffy, when their eyes catch sight of you behind them. “Heyy, it’s the hot nerd.” Satoru teases, earning your eye roll.

“Oh whatever,” they laugh as they walk in, Suguru carrying a case of beer. It was the summer after college, but they used to all live in a huge frat house together, now they’ve all moved into this insanely fancy apartment together - you could fit your entire dorm in their living room - as they moved on to their Master’s degree. You were an underclassmen, still a Senior in college.

You remember them all very well, but they’re all pretty annoying. Honestly, Sukuna at least seems to be a little more mature than them, but not by much. He’s taking a beer out of the case, as they plop themselves down, Suguru puts the rest of the twelve pack in Sukuna’s fridge, Satoru busts out the rolling tray and eyes you with insane blue eyes.

“Wanna smoke, sweets?” He asks, and you shake your head with a little smile.

“I already have, and still have to drive back to the dorm,” they laugh again.

“Shit those suck, though I hear there’s a big party at the old frat house this weekend,” Satoru murmurs, handing Sukuna the blunt to finish rolling. When his stupidly long pink tongue laps at the seam of it, your tummy clenches, eyes unable to remove themselves. “You coming, nerdy girl?”

“I don’t know, not really my thing. And should you be calling me nerdy, when you’re wearing Lucemon on your shirt?” Satoru glares, and Suguru and Sukuna snort in laughter.

“You know who that is? Damn, you just got even hotter.” He smirks and earns another eye roll, they chuckle but Sukuna’s jaw tenses.

He does not like someone flirting with you.

Holy fuck did your mouth work a number on him like that!?

“Uh huh, I might go, I don't know. Um…” You turn to Sukuna now, tilting you head back to look up at him. “Thanks for…”

What do you say - thanks for the dick?

Thanks for kissing you, braiding your hair, making you cum?

“Um… the smoke, I appreciate it,” you murmur, not wanting to just blurt everything out in front of his friends. He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, biceps tensing and bunching, you see your crescent nail prints in his skin then.

It makes you ache to see the visible proof.

This was a dumb fucking idea. When you thought of fucking him, you figured it’d be great, it’d be fun, but you didn’t anticipate whatever feeling this was, the one where you didn’t even wanna leave. This wasn’t how you were - you can chalk it up to the breakup, chalk it up to the weed, to the huge - at least ten inch - cock that has currently fucked you stupid…

Yeah, chalk it up to that.

“Thanks for,” Sukuna trails off now too, seeing the evidence of his teeth against your lower lip, swollen from brutal kisses. His cock is back on hard when he also notices how your sweater is hanging off a shoulder, and there are marks along your pretty collar bone from his suction, damn near making him feral as he thinks of it. “Coming over.”

“Yes, of course um… bye you all.” They wave as you rush out, leaning against the door and exhaling now, trying to collect your breath as you hear them murmur.

“Do you like her or something?” Suguru’s voice is muffled, but you hear it, and you can’t help but act like some spy, listening when you shouldn’t for the answer.

Did Sukuna…

“She’s cool, we hang out I guess.” Is his gruff answer, and you hear the echo of laughter. “Drop it, so what’s up with this party?”

You sigh, stepping away, sitting in your car for a moment too long, looking up at the window of Sukuna’s apartment for a moment, wondering if you made it all fucking weird now. You wouldn’t say you two were ‘friends’ but you were cool with each other, and now you were listening if he liked you - as if you’re silently listening on the phone with a friend in middle school or something.

You shake it off and head home, ignoring the gnawing feeling, shifting in your seat at how sore you are, you really talked more shit than you should have, you need a good hot bath after taking him.

Sukuna shuts the blinds, having looked at you as you walked, just to make sure you were good. “You hit it, huh?”

“Shut up, Suguru.” They’re snorting as the smoke fills the room.

The three of them usually share all the details of their encounters, but he sure the fuck wasn’t sharing anything about you - how you are probably the best thing he’s ever felt wrapped around him. How you sucked him stupid - got him whimpering!? - yeah, no fucking way he admitted that to anyone.

*****

It’s been a week since you last talked to Sukuna, and during that week you’re absolutely mortified by the amount of times you thought about texting or messaging him on his IG. Much, much worse, after you looked at some of his gym posts before bed, you woke up the next morning cumming thinking about your fucking plug and his huge cock inside you, fuck it was embarassing.

You wanna message him now even, but he hasn’t written you, and you don’t wanna be the girl who mentions - let’s hook up - then gets clingy. That’s just not you, and it’s not fair, you’d brought it up and it wasn’t like he asked to hook up with you. When your friends bring up going to a DnD match tonight - instead of going to that frat party, nine times out of ten you’d go for the DnD.

You don’t dig parties, and the DnD group has primo weed too.

Sukuna supplied for all of them after all.

But you instead find yourself dying to go to the party tonight - you may even find yourself buying a whole outfit. Like some goofy, corny ass 90‘s movie where the nerdy girl gets hot with a dress, except you sure the fuck weren’t taking your glasses off for that moment, since you’re damn near blind without them.

When Sukuna took off your glasses though?

God.

Snap out of it?!

You may or may not have freaked the fuck out when he hearted your instagram story before the party, biting your lip and giggling way too fucking much. You don’t even take pictures for shit, but you were feeling cute, and that just cinches it in your mind - you want to see him again and not for some weed. You just…

Want to see him.

Plug Sukuna - Hey brat, you coming to the party or doing nerd shit?

You roll your eyes a bit, ignoring the butterflies in your tummy at how excited you are to have him messaging you.

You - Do I look like I’m going to DnD?

Sukuna flushes, looking at your insta story for the twentieth time, surrounded by girls wearing literally next to nothing, coming up to him as he sits on the couch alone - shit Sukuna never did at parties. He was the life of the party usually, beer pong champion, the one making sure everyone had the best smoke or really anything they asked for.

But all he can think of is seeing you again, and he wishes it was just your pussy and not that he misses your cute little laugh - how you snort just a bit - how you push those glasses up your nose. How excited you get as you’re trying to convince him to watch your cartoons - sorry, anime - and how you take a hit from that blunt, just a bit of your glittery gloss on the tip.

He’s got one rolled up right now in the middle of a party with music blaring, mixing with the conversation and laughter of so many people, dying to share the blunt with you, to talk to you - he wanted to hit you up so many times, but he sure didn’t wanna be the dude who got pussy whipped in one encounter. You mentioned casual, one time maybe more- but the two of you hadn’t spoken since.

Sukuna was used to women blowing up his phone, begging for it again, even now he has women coming to sit on his lap, which usually is par for the course, but he just doesn’t find much excitement in it. He happens to have one on his right thigh right now, when he watches you walk into the room - and Instagram didn’t even do you justice.

You look so fucking cute, sexy little pleated skirt and a black top that shows that his marks on your pretty breasts faded - they’re just begging for more on them. He swallows nervously, god why is he nervous, it irritates him!? But he is, as your eyes meet his, and of course dart to the girl on his lap, you give him a little wave and smile, and he curses as you turn away and talk to someone then.

Sukuna unceremoniously shoves the girl off his lap, he can’t say he feels bad about it either, as he heads straight toward you, hearing one of the underclassmen gushing and simping over you. You’re just staring with a brow raised, unimpressed at the fumbling man, when he walks over smoothly with a blunt, holding it out.

“Wanna smoke, brat?” You look at him now, he’s unfairly hot and shirtless basically, unless you wanna call that black silk open kimono a top. You can see those nipple piercings, a fucking belly button ring leading to a light happy trail that makes your brain short circuit.

You hadn’t seen him shirtless, even sucking him.

“We were talking - oh, it’s Sukuna, shit! Sorry…” the boy learns fast, backing up and stuttering when Sukuna glares at him. “Catch you later?”

“Sure,” you sigh, taking the blunt from Sukuna’s fingers now, yours brushing against his softly. “I gotta pay for this?”

“Nah,” fuck he was a dick huh? He always is, but for a moment he feels bad, even though you’re teasing with a little smile, holding the blunt up for a light. Sukuna immediately busts his out, bright orange flame igniting the tip, watching the cherry brighten as you puff on it. “It’s blueberry.”

You inhale it like a fucking pro, when don’t you? Heavy, thick smoke falling out of your mouth then getting sucked back into your mouth. You look so good doing it, handing it to him without even a cough, just exhaling it back out, a smile on those pretty lips of yours. He pauses, unsure of even what to say, as he puts it to his lips, and your eyes drift lower.

Your thoughts are filthy as his, his tattoos curve with his body in a way that’s just slutty actually, black thick lines that aren’t fair honestly. Your body remembers him far too well, when he snatches up two drinks as you two walk over to a quieter part of the party, past a sea of bodies that eye the two of you. You take it gratefully, then wince as the liquor hits your tongue.

“Lightweight.” Sukuna teases, earning a playful shove from you, but your hand pauses on bare skin, watching his rippling, cut abdomen tense as you do.

Fuck.

Your pussy is pulsing from touching his skin, ugh it’s annoying. You know he hasn’t asked you to come over, so you shouldn’t be thinking this badly about him, but how can you not? The memories flit through your mind, his big hands that now hold a blunt and a red solo cup, and how they touched you.

“You look…” He pauses, wanting to say dumb fucking words.

Beautiful.

You do look beautiful.

Your eyes lock up with his, and he’s just sputtering like a fucking idiot, as if he’s never talked to a woman, he notices the shimmery shadow you’ve brushed across your lid as he looks down at you, so small compared to him. Sukuna towered over everyone, he was used to it, but something about it makes him want to pick you up, carry you somewhere and devour you.

Watch his cock in your tummy bulge.

“I look what?” Your whisper breaks his racing brain, he sips his drink and sighs now, clearing his throat and putting on a smirk.

“Hot.”

You blink a bit at that. “Hot?”

“Yeah, hot.” He curses himself internally.

“Thanks,” you trail off, it was nice you guess, but you supposed Sukuna said that to every girl, including the ones on his lap as you walked in. And you really hate that it made you sick to see it, off one time fucking him. “You look good too.”

“I always do.” You roll your eyes and laugh a bit, the sound making him ache, when his name’s being chanted by the pong table.

“You’re being summoned, Sukuna.” You tease, inhaling his blunt and stepping closer, so close he inhales your scent, driving him fucking insane.

It takes so much to save face and not drop to his knees and beg you to just allow him to lick your entire body. And he would, fuck, if you let him.

What is wrong with him.

It didn’t help he’d jerked it to you this morning, and every morning, since you’re clearly some succubus hitting all his dreams and making him wake up leaking pre.

“You good?” You ask softly, he clears his throat then, glaring at the men waving him over.

“Yeah, catch you after I wipe the floor with them?” He teases, and you nod, just a bit disappointed, but it wasn’t like you were close to Sukuna suddenly.

You were just…

A buyer, and he was your plug. A plug you had literally propositioned, seduced. Him being friendly was sweeter than he even needed to be. You put a hand on his shoulder then, feeling the weed hitting - mixing with the drink in your system, but when you touch him again it’s something else.

“Of course, I’ll be here for probably an hour or so, I don’t know too many people here.”

“Tch won’t be three minutes they’ll all be shitfaced and losers.” You laugh at that, but it’s forced, a little awkward.

The party goes on, and every time Sukuna wants to find you, you’re hidden, when he does see you, someone’s in his fucking way. Like everything and anything is blocking his way - why does he know everyone? Right now he doesn’t wanna fucking catch up, or talk, he just wants to talk to you.

He’s standing with Suguru and Satoru, as the three of them are sipping on drinks, and he sees you again finally, emerging from one of the bathrooms, but before he can think, there are three dudes talking to you. His jaw clenches at the sight of it, and he can’t keep excusing it to good sex, or wanting to hit again, it just doesn’t feel the same.

Sukuna can’t stand seeing you getting hit on, he’s glaring right at those men, sure he’s only fucked you once - but that’s enough to make him lose his shit. Suguru and Satoru are trying to get his attention, waving the blunt at him as he scowls over at the pretentious assholes talking to you. Your eyes catch his, you’re clearly unused to the attention it seems, a blush on your cheeks.

Or you like those losers.

Sukuna has been dying to fuck you again, but not just that - been dying to talk to you again, smoke you out, he didn’t say all he wanted to that day. Was it just a one time thing for you? He didn’t even get to drink your pretty pussy, didn’t get to hit it from the back, fuck he has so many positions he wants to do with you, he wants to-

“Earth to Sukuna.” Satoru says, and he clears his throat, taking a hit of the blunt and letting it fill his lungs.

“Yeah?” He grumbles, and their gazes go in your direction.

“You really like the cute little nerd, huh?” Satoru teases, earning Sukuna’s glare.

“Shit, you’re down bad bro.” Suguru chuckles, taking the blunt from Sukuna’s fingers then.

“Shut the fuck up. Just… we hooked up and…” He trails off again, and his friends chuckle, nudging each other.

“So you did, called it. And how was that, is the nerd freaky?” Satoru asks, sipping his solo red cup, and Sukuna scowls right at his best friends.

“None of your fucking business.”

“Oh shit, real bad,” Suguru says then, coughing as he takes his hit.

“Learn to take a real hit, and shut up. Not telling either of you shit.”

“We share everything, that means…” Satoru takes the blunt between his lips now, inhaling and smirking as Sukuna finds one of the men practically dragging your awkward ass to the dance floor.

You are awkward, hot and pretty as you are, you can’t dance for shit, at some point making a really awkward move Sukuna can only describe as shaking dice in your hands. “Is she… doing…”

Suguru trails off, as Sukuna laughs a bit at you. “Some interesting dance move she learned in DND maybe.” Sukuna murmurs, and he’s almost okay with it, you seem to have no interest, until the guy drags you by your hips against him.

That’s it.

“Shit… we strapping up for a fight?” Suguru asks, and Satoru grins, batshit psycho as always.

“I’m down to fight.”

“I don’t need your help,” he scoffs and stomps right over to you, where you’re being grinded on against, snatching the dude’s wrist up quickly. “She’s not enjoying herself.”

“What bro?” He’s clearly wasted, when Sukuna’s grip tightens he winces. “Shit, is it your girl or something?”

“Go sober up and dance with yourself.” He shoves at him now, and you blink in confusion. You hadn’t known how to dance really, you figured you would try, him grabbing you was creepy, but you figured you’d get him off you in a moment, when a giant, tall ass Sukuna had practically tossed the kid off.

You can’t help but feel it more, that tightening in your tummy, when his angry red eyes flit down to you. “Sukuna…”

“You weren’t enjoying that, were you?” He demands, speaking through his teeth damn near.

“Um… huh?” Are you just really high?

Is Sukuna… jealous?

“C’mon,” he tugs at your wrist now, and you follow him, so confused, yet fucking thrilled by his big hand on your wrist, in a way that concerns feminism you want him to literally throw you over his shoulder. “Short ass legs can’t keep up.”

“We’re not all giants over six four!?” You huff as he keeps tugging, and you yank back weakly, who wouldn’t be weak in that hold? “What’s up with you? You’re acting super fucking weird.”

“Am I?” He laughs, yanking you in his old room - no one has occupied it yet it seems, it was for the head of the frat and they probably haven’t appointed one yet.

“Sukuna, you’re acting… jealous?” You whisper, he scowls down at you, locking the door to one of the rooms then, arm on the other side of you as he is pressing you against the door, making you gasp.

“You didn’t like them, those guys, did you?” He whispers angrily, you blink a bit, biting your lower lip, he tugs it out from under your teeth. “Did you?”

“Would you be mad if I did? Aren’t me and you just… hooking up?” You murmur, earning a deeper glare, as your heart races.

“Once. We hooked up once, brat.”

“Once. You didn’t want more, right?”

“You didn’t want more.”

“Says who!?”

“You never messaged me… you…” He trails off, cursing now, and the two of you just stare at each other, your breasts rising and falling with your breaths, as Sukuna’s hands tighten on your face now, cupping it tightly. “Did you just want it once?”

“What do you think?” You answer back, hand slipping over his bare chest now, and then he slams his lips on yours, tongue ring clicking against the roof of your mouth when it dives inside, huge hands cupping your face even tighter. You whine into his lips, body aching. “So do you want more than once?”

“The fuck do you think?” He takes your hand, putting it right on his cock, throbbing and hard, you brush your hand against it, earning his moan.

“Then say you want it again.” You’re taunting him, nerdy fucking brat, he scowls as he tilts your chin up.

“You talk a lot of shit. Think it’s time to get all your attention focused on me now, huh?”

“How you gonna do that - ah!” Sukuna’s on his fucking knees in front of you, making you tremble, breaths coming so fast you cant function, when he lifts up your skirt, looking up at you with dilated eyes almost black, fingering the fishnet stockings you’re wearing - they have no right looking that good on your thighs. “Sukuna?”

“Hold your fucking skirt up, brat. Now.” You blink again, lost at the giant man slipping your panties down your thighs, moaning when your pussy is in his face. “Fuck, knew it would be pretty but… fuck you for it being that pretty.”

“Fuck me for it!? What’re you even doing down there!” You’re yanking at his hair, and he chuckles now, lapping his tongue along your inner thigh, watching as your pussy drools out.

“What do you think I’m doing? Gonna lick every thought of anyone from your pretty fucking head,” he whispers, kissing your inner thigh again, you gasp. “Haven’t you been eaten out?”

“I have, just… you… you do that?” He chuckles, shaking his head as he looks under those pink lashes at you.

“Of course I do, ya didn’t give me a chance last time, jumping my dick like a slutty little brat.”

“You- oh!” You’re gonna talk shit, but when Ryomen Sukuna licks up your slit then, tongue ring flicking on your clit, you lose any words. “Mnh!”

You almost say you love him from one fucking lick, one wicked stripe of his wet, hot tongue between your lips.

“Nothing smart to say, brat?” He whispers, breath hot against your cunt while he holds your folds open with his thick fingers. You can’t respond, you arch your hips now, resting your shoulders back against the door, silently pleading for more. Sukuna moans softly, flicking his tongue again. “How about you be nice, say please?”

“Please,” you let out breathlessly, and Sukuna buries his fucking face against your cunt then, drowning himself in your sweet taste, your heat, while he listens to your moans mixing with the blaring music of the party, just an echo, his heart racing in his ears as your cunt gushes down him, messy as fuck. “S’kuna mnh!”

You can’t even say his name he muses, palming his erection over his pants, he can hardly stand it, he’d tasted you before off his fingers but this was more intense, the sweetness pouring as he tries to catch it. He looks up at you, your head falling forward, feels you trembling, while you crumple that skirt in one hand, the other balancing on his shoulder.

Sukuna’s tongue slots itself into your eager hole, already pulsing around the wet muscle, curling up wickedly and hitting your spot with that fucking barbell, you scream out hoarsely, head slamming the door as he does. He has you cumming with two more flicks, as his nose bumps right against your engorged, twitchy little clit, your whines and grinding hips urging him on, drawing that orgasm out.

You’re shivering, hips bucking up to fuck his face, wanton and fucking insane how you work them, greedy, pulling at his hair now. “Sukuna!”

“Mmh, you’re so easy f’me, huh?” you want to talk shit, but his tongue flicks and swirls your clit, as your thigh brushes the soft silk of his kimono, and you can’t take it, how fucking good it feels. “Say it, and I’ll let you cum again.”

“Easy… ah!” He’s moaning now, sucking your clit into his hot mouth, vibrating it with his own moans, your skirt falls so he shoves it back up, but your hands have entangled in his pink hair, while he’s devouring all the juices pouring from your slutty little hole, all over his handsome face. “S’Kuna…”

“Can’t even say my name, huh?” He murmurs, pulling back, his face coated in you, the sight should be embarrassing, but instead it’s so sexy you whine out, he smirks - having you whimper this time, when he stands, you wobble. “Can’t stand up brat?”

“Fuck… shut up…” he’s taunting you, but he’s right, he has to wrap an arm around your hips, bending low and running his two fingers up your sensitive slit, watching as your eyes roll back, feeling you tremble in his hold. “Kuna…”

“Not my name, tch.” You’re delirious when he’s pumped his fingers deep, curling in your quivering walls. “Take them off. Now, get on the bed.”

You are not one to take orders, you scowl at first, but when he’s slid two of his fingers in your mouth, and has a thigh between yours, you’re grinding on it, desperate, soaking his pants now. He’s kissing you again, before pulling back, turning you around and unzipping the back of your skirt.

“Do I have to undress you, brat? Where’s all the shit talking? Keeping up with your freak, hmm?” He’s taunting you even as his hands shake, when your skirt slips down, and your head falls back, whining out. “You don’t talk shit when you cum, is that when your pretty mouth shuts?”

“Shut my mouth, Sukuna.” He groans, kissing down across the side of your neck, tugging your top down, then up over your head, turning you as the skirt pools around your heels. He is stunned when he sees your body, swallowing nervously, tracing the swell of your breasts, the nip of your waist, the jut of your hips in wonder.

You’re nervous, him seeing you fully, but his eyes are bright rubies when they hungrily make their way up your face. Your hands slip to his body, slipping off the black kimono, revealing his body fully, so sculpted it’s ridiculous, you lean forward, kissing along a tattoo on his chest, over a thick pectoral muscle, and he huffs, hand entangling in your hair.

“You’re fucking…” he doesn’t know how to say it, fuck.

He’s never said that.

“Hot?” You tease, kissing lower, unbuckling his belt as you do. “You’re gorgeous, fuck…”

“Me? Tch.” You nod, and he sighs now, swallowing a bit, tilting your chin up and making you pull away from kissing across his tattoos. “You’re beautiful, brat, okay?”

“I am?” You blink a bit, and he sighs, nodding, jaw tensing so hard there’s a vein popping out. “Oh Sukuna… thank you…”

“Shut up.” You blink in confusion at him, but he’s already picked you up, your arms wrap his strong neck, as his huge hands hold you. “Don’t fucking dance with anyone.”

“Like… tonight?” You ask curiously, he snorts, shaking his head and carrying you over to a huge bed, one he used to sleep in, sitting you on it and brushing your hair back.

“Like not at all.” Your blush decorates your cheeks, as you bite your lower lip.

“Do you like me, Sukuna?” Your question makes him laugh, a huge tattooed hand cupping the side of your face and leaning down.

“Do I like you?” You nod then, suddenly shy for running it like you do, and he sighs, brushing your hair back as you tug at his pants, going to stroke his cock and eliciting that soft whimper of his that wrecks you. “Yes, I like you… alot. Okay!?”

“You sound so mad about it.” You tease, stroking him slowly, over those veins that wrap his pretty, heavy cock, and he sighs, snatching your hand now.

“And you, brat, huh? Do you like me, baby?” He whispers, flipping you around, your ass arching up and out, two fingers slipping back inside your hole, stretching you out, making your head fall back as you arch for more.

“Y-yes, I do, ngh!” He pauses then, cock slapping your ass so fucking heavy, precum drizzling across your ass cheeks, dancing messy on your skin.

“Shit, you like me?” His surprised words hit even your horny ass, high ass brain, you look back, getting up on your knees, reaching a hand back around to him now, he leans forward, sighing, cupping you under your chin.

“Yes, I really do. I thought… maybe you didn’t?” He shakes his head, he’s not sure the word ‘like’ covers what he feels, but for now it’ll suffice. “As more than a friend?”

“I don’t do that to friends,” he murmurs, kissing you again, fingers running along your slit. “Don’t bury my face in my friends.”

“Then… more than that?” He nods a bit, and you melt, pressing back against him as he wraps his strong arms around you. “I’d like that too - I’d also like your cock in me.”

“Cock hungry brat, can’t have a fucking moment, huh?” You giggle, and the sound wrecks him, he’s kissing you again, tip sliding on your folds. “Wanna fuck you raw, wanna cum inside you.”

“So do it…” Your answer to his insane statements is to get in the perfect arch for him, he moans as you do.

“Fuck, you sure?” You nod, hands clinging to the blankets while you soak his tip, gushing down in a soppy, squelching mess to the bed. “I’m not going easy on you this time, slutty cunt can take it huh?”

“I won’t go easy either, gonna have you whimper - ah!” Sukuna’s slid inside your cunt in a deep stroke, and without the condom you feel every fucking bit of his cock, from that fat, musroomed tip, to every vein in your slick, gummy walls. “Sukuna!”

“Fuck, loosen up,” he huffs, smacking on your ass cheek, you gasp as he groans, trying not to cum while you grip him so tight. “Now, brat.”

“I c-can’t, shit… ah!” You’re shaking as he slips out, then back inside, feeling so fucking delicious in your cunt you moan, glasses falling right off your face as he fucks into you harder now, slamming and bullying his thick cock deep inside you, so full you feel like you’re splitting apart, still wearing those heels and thigh highs, the sight of them right under your ass taking him the fuck out.

“Fuck, feel you, gonna remember my shape, aren’t you?” He huffs, as he fucks inside you, leaning over you now, hand on the mattress, gripping the blankets right next to you, veins raising from the back of his tattooed hands while his leaky tip drools on your cervix. You gasp out, whining when he stuffs you, his other hand cupping under your chin. “Asked you a question.”

“Conceited,” you huff, only earning him slamming inside your cunt, you’re blinded when he does, gasping out, ass arching for more of his brutal thrusts while he gives you the most wicked backshots, the sounds of skin slapping echoing and filling your ears, the party long since faded. “F-fuck, ah!”

“Like me, huh? She doesn’t like me, she loves me, doesn’t she?” He’s whispering in your ear, you weakly nod, you’re not typically submissive, but for him you want to be, when he rolls his hips up just so and hits your spot, you scream out at it. “Say it.”

“No… mnh!” He flips you then, right before you’re about to cum, making you whine, picking your thigh up and pulling it high, your heel and stockings ripped off, one by one, until your legs are bare, and the heel of your foot is against his chest. Like this, him hovering over you, cock prodding your soppy entrance, it’s way too intimate.

Like wasn’t a good enough term.

Fucked up over him was better.

“Wanna watch me fuck your guts up, huh? Bet you haven’t had that have you, cock ruin your fucking insides?” He’s possessive, feral as he looks down, you’ve put your glasses on all askew, he tenderly fixes them before tilting your chin down to watch your cunt make his cock disappear. “God…”

He can’t take it, how sexy it is to see the bulge slowly form as he shoves his thick ten inches as much as he can, between your puffy lips, while you watch him, lips parted, glasses slipping back down your nose again, covered with a sheen of sweat. “Oh…”

You’re watching it, the bulge, ridiculous as he fucks into you so slow, leaning over you and making your leg press up higher, a hand on the back of your thigh, he eyes your face again, as he slips in deeper, till he’s stuffed you far too full. You’re struggling to take him at this angle, deeper, slower strokes, fucking you up with every single one, your eyes going crossed then.

“Wanna see your pretty eyes,” he murmurs, taking them off, setting them aside and leaning low over you now. “Can you see me, blind little brat?”

“Y-yes. Yes.” He kisses you again, while he’s bending you in half, fucking you so deep you feel him everywhere, your stomach, fuck your throat, all of it, he’s ruining your cunt until she will just know his shape and you can’t say you mind, not when he slams hard, and you feel your body tense. “Kuna, please…”

“What, brat, need to cum?” He whispers, saliva breaking apart in a thin, gossamer string as the filthy sounds of his cock wrecking your squelching cunt fill the room. “Say please, huh?”

“Please, mnh! Kuna, please,” Sukuna reaches down, like he already knows your body after two fuck sessions, finding your twitchy little clit and leaning up, rubbing little circles and angling his hips just so, your orgasm hits you so hard, already sensitive from his tongue, his mouth, those fingers.

“That’s it, cum all on me, make a fuckin’ mess,” he murmurs, but in his head he’s already mad with one thought.

His.

You weren’t dancing or talking or smoking with another dude, ever the fuck again - he knows enough people, he can make sure of it too, watching your eyes roll back, that mouth in a slutty O as your cunt starts milking him then. He sucks in a breath, now laying his heavy weight on you, mean strokes hitting so hard and deep the smacks keep echoing as you’re so fucking full.

“Slutty hole wants all my cum, huh? Should I fill you the fuck up, have you drip me the rest of this fucking party?” Sukuna’s eyes are so dark with his blown out pupils, all you can see is black with red rings around them, as he grips your hip bruising. “Can’t even talk? That pathetic huh? Thought I had to match your freak, brat.”

“Mnh…” You wanna talk back but he’s fucking you from one orgasm into another, and all you can manage is a - ‘cum in me’ - which pushes him over the edge.

“Yeah, can you take all this cum, baby?”

Baby.

It’s echoing - Sukuna, your plug, the most popular dude there is, is sweet talking you and rolling his hips. One moment it’s ‘fucking slutty cunt, feel her’ the next it’s - ‘so pretty, look at you’. The mix of filthy, nasty words and sweet whispers, and brutal strokes that ruin your cunt and tender caresses is too much, he’s too much, you can’t formulate words, a girl who's never at a loss for them.

“I c-can take it,” you whisper finally, eyes locking, and then he moans, lifting your thighs up high, shoving them until they’re flushed with your breasts, smushed as his weight presses on your thighs, and he starts fucking his veiny, slick cock harder and harder.

“Yeah? Beg for it, huh?” you bite your lip, glaring. “Beg for me to fill this perfect little cunt, be the only one to.”

“P-possessive… psycho…” he’s chuckling, like he’s really fucking lost it, slamming in one more time. “Beg m-me, huh?”

“Fuck,” he’s done with your ass, you’re literally so annoying, but he also is fucking loving it, your attitude even as he has you bent and folded in half. “Tiny little cunt, bet she can’t.”

“I can, f-fuck… just… cum in me- stop talking and - ah!” He’s done when you demand it like that, when your nails press into his biceps, his head falls back as he feels his release, so much cum, despite jerking it all week it’s been building up, waiting for you. “Sukuna!”

“God, feel her, milking every bit, greedy, slutty,” he murmurs, kissing you over and over, barbell massaging your tongue, his huge hands slipping your thighs down as his ropes of white cum paint your walls. “Fuck…”

“Mnh…” You’re weak, head falling to the side for his kisses, thighs shaking violently when he moves again. “Sukuna!”

“Mmm, never wanna fucking leave your pussy, god.” He keeps kissing and slowly pumping, your nails tear into his back, and he loves it, groaning, hoping you leave your marks as he sucks on the base of your neck, lapping up sweat off your skin.

“You cum so much, holy…” He pulls back, grinning as he leans up, kissing your lips sweetly for just a moment, then glaring.

“You’re my girlfriend now, got it?”

You giggle, breathless, brushing a lock of his pink hair back. “Am I now? Not even gonna ask me?”

His brows lower, ruby eyes narrowing. “Nope. I do have a question…”

“Hmm?”

“Wanna smoke?” You grin, nodding, and Sukuna dips, for a moment you panic, but he’s soon back with water bottles and his bag of weed, while you’re in the bathroom cleaning up. He comes behind you in the mirror, wrapping an arm under your breasts and groaning. “God, look at you.”

You turn, leaning up as he leans down, kissing you again, soon the two of you are lounging in the bed, half dressed and laughing, as he inhales the blunt and turns to his side, studying you seriously for a moment, everything feels so comfy and perfect with him, heady. “What is it?”

“Just… you’re really pretty covered in me.” He murmurs, you flush, eyeing the marks on your thighs, your breasts, taking the blunt from his fingers and inhaling it into your mouth, gesturing for him.

He leans forward, and you blow the smoke into his mouth, he lets it fill his lungs and moans, big hands gripping the narrow of your waist, thumbs brushing under the swells of your breasts. He sucks in the smoke now, exhaling, when he takes the blunt again, sighing, brushing your hair back with his free hand.

“You’re still not getting free weed, you know.”

You scoff, glaring as he grins wide. “You are a jerk!”

“Just saying, you gotta pay. Maybe a small discount.”

“A discount!? You just came inside me.” He laughs now, husky with his smirk, laying back on his arm, bent under his head, inhaling again.

“Hmm, yeah I did, didn’t I? Okay, a good discount.”

“Psh!” You shove at his big body, when he pins you down, sighing and slipping up your skirt.

“Tch, fucked her up, huh?” He leans down, pressing bites, sharp along your thighs, you gasp out, feeling dizzy and weak, cunt throbbing from him still. “She’s wasting all that cum.”

“Wasting, what- oh fuck.” He’s got two fingers shoving his sticky cum back in your abused hole, inhaling the blunt and blowing the smoke right on your clit then, you’re arching your back, hips bucking up. “What the… mnh…”

He sucks his fingers, handing you the blunt, you’re blushing as he makes his way back between your thighs. You inhale the blunt now, letting it hit deep as Ryomen Sukuna’s tongue ring collects the milky white cum oozing from your cunt now.

“Hmm,” you earn a glare when you decide to put your glasses on his face. “You look hot, imagine - Nerd Kuna. Ow!”

Sukuna bites your clit, the glasses looking far too sexy on him, and watches you giggle, making his heart race. “Only nerd here is you.”

“Mnh, Sukuna…” He’s lapping at you more and more, the clicking and squishing of your cunt as he cleans up the mess he’s made, all while your glasses on his face are fogging up.

He puts out your blunt, back inside you, spitting his cum and yours in your mouth, tongues swapping it so messy together, big hand wrapped around your throat, bringing you with him to cum over and over, and you realize that night, in your fifth or so round - You think you might just be in love with your plug.

I had wayyy too much fun, hope you all enjoyed ittt hehe

@teddiiursula @helpmeimbored @sukubusss @lizatonix @kitchen-cryptid @yenayaps @all-with-angel @take-metothe-moon @quackingcrow420 @notsaelty @urlocalsucc @deadasssmut @fauxxfacade @blitziwitch @lvc-lv @niamhssecretlibrary @hiccupberries @yamadramallamaqueen @din-is-a-real-mando @sagegotthesauce @sadrna @saitamaswifey @beabamboo @akirawhore @coralbae @midnightry @ehlaaa @yuaisen @sapphireillusions @rosieandthethorns @sofi4dsam @choerryp1e @hunbun-posts @melotter @hellish4ever @smoooootie @anacod @jkslvsnella @bunbun444 @toffeebrat @ehcilhc @dizzylmwahh @emochosoluvr @tyyqqaaa @mimiluvzu2 @gojoscumslut @bakery-angel @blackbeauties102

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