Chapter Text
Ryomen Sukuna was quite possibly the root of all the evil in your life.
Although he might say the same exact thing about you.
You hated him. Hated his stupid face and his clothes and how he'd groan and gripe about hockey and being the best when all you could think of was how he was the fucking worst. He didn't like you either, complaining about your attitude and your eye rolls and how the only time you didn't bitch at him was when you were in bed together.
Not that it ever stopped either of you from fucking each other's brains out at the first sign of boredom, at the first faint feeling of loneliness that could only be suppressed by the warmth of someone else.
All your friends told you to get a cat if you craved company so badly. But a pet wasn't going to scratch that itch.
Wouldn't whisper filthy things in your ear and stuff three fingers in your pussy in between classes in his car or the closest supply closet.
Honestly, if you hadn't gotten a taste of him at your first frat party freshman year, would you even be where you were now?
You had never woken up naked and alone before back then, a migraine buzzing around in your brain as you clutched a blanket to your chest and scanned around the cluttered mess of clothes strewn around and textbooks stacked and scattered on the surfaces, hockey and gym gear tossed on top of half of it. It didn't take long for you to figure out that you were only a little tally mark in the long list of girls he slept with.
In the end, Sukuna just ended up being the first notch above your bedpost. Now? You'd lost count.
He taught you a valuable lesson though. One you refused to ever forget.
Most men didn't give a shit about love. So why should you?
Lust was more fun anyway.
Wouldn't condemn you to a fate of falling like a fool and getting flustered just because some frat boy managed to text you good morning at fucking noon. Wouldn't box you in and turn you to one of those girls posting about what a dipshit the guy she was dating was just to defend him in the comments.
You were free.
Unbound by the silly notion that you were supposed to be settling down any time soon, even if some of your classmates tried to whisper and spread rumors that you were a slut.
By the technical definition, you supposed you were one. But it wasn't like you paraded around all of your affairs. Most of them didn't even know about each other.
And your one-night-stands were always left behind before the sun came up, usually guys from other universities who wouldn't be around to brag about bending you over or fucking you in some bar bathroom stall.
Plus, you didn't just sleep with anyone.
You had spent almost ten minutes scrolling through your contacts trying to decide, pausing on names and debating who you wanted a bite of today.
Toji might try to take the twenty from your wallet you needed later. Gojo had classes all afternoon. Nanami would lecture you for skipping out on his last study session - although he might let you cheat off of him if you gave him head.
You almost called Geto. Thumb hovering over his photo, one you snuck of him when he was laughing at something stupid Gojo said, oblivious to the fact you were fucking him and his best friend. Things had been a little awkward after you let him finger you in his car when he'd offered to give you a ride home from some party, the words he left you with hanging heavy in the air while you practically scrambled to shove open the passenger door and hurry to get out.
Maybe you should've called him.
Saved yourself the humiliation of being here.
Thighs pressed to your chest, Sukuna's beefy palms pinning you down as his condom-covered cock slid tauntingly just above your entrance, grazing over your clit while you squirmed.
He quit his frat his sophomore year, moved into an apartment his junior one five minutes from the campus, but his bedroom was still small, only big enough for a full bed when it was stuffed full with the rest of his stuff.
Every time you showed up, stepping over his jersey and fighting the urge to smack him with one of his hockey sticks, you told yourself you wouldn't come back.
Did anything ever change though?
No.
Sukuna was still him. And you were still you.
"Are you going to fuck me or should I find someone else?" You threatened, skin sticky, sweat making a few stray hairs cling to your forehead as you tried to keep a straight face.
He had already been edging you for half an hour, knuckle-deep in your pussy, neglecting your clit just to tease you until you were too close to take anymore of his obnoxious attitude.
"Like anyone else could fuck you like I do," he snarled back, all deep and gritty. You tilted your head to the side, shrugging your shoulders up just to piss him off more.
He made a strangled sound, but he listened at least, begrudgingly shoving the first few inches in, nearly no resistance as he dragged his thick cock against your walls.
They all had their pros and cons.
You liked to think of them sorta like a buffet, or maybe take out. They tasted the best when you were in the mood for them.
Sukuna was rough, all groping and squeezing and muttering mean things under his breath while he fucked you full of him. Toji was lazy, but when you were on top, or he had you up against the wall, he always found a way to hit those sweet spots that made you come back to him again and again. Nanami was sorta clinical, you supposed, respectful, considerate. But he was more into bondage, the sort of sex you had to prepare for, preferred to devote an entire night to rather than just a quick fuck somewhere inappropriate. Which was more of Gojo's forte. He'd fuck you anywhere, anytime. However you liked, in whatever position you liked. Geto was...you didn't know how to classify him.
But the man on top of you was usually who you went to when you couldn't decide.
What did that make him? The human sex equivalent of Mcdonald's?
Your glossy lips curled up in a faint smile, struggling to contain it just for him to misread it.
"That's right," he grinned, seemingly thinking you were caving in to agree with his previous sentiment just because his cock was inside of you.
His dick twitched, getting somehow harder with his next thrust, like it'd been inflated with the rest of his ego.
You bit your tongue, holding your breath as you tried to focus on the feeling of being full, how the thick ridges and veins were rubbing right against your walls through the condom, his hips slamming down to meet your skin as the bed frame creaked beneath both of you.
In. Out. In. Out.
You almost yawned.
Scrunching your eyes shut before he could interpret the sleepiness in them as being glazed over with starvation for him, one hand clawing at his flannel sheets while you half-heartedly tugged at his roots.
The sex was fine.
But there was this hollowed out hole somewhere deep inside you that couldn't be touched or fucked out of you.
"Does Gojo know you're fucking me while he's-"
"What? You wanna tell him?" You interrupted him, wiggling your hips back to make it harder for him to thrust in, to frustrate him a little more when he was already worked up.
Sukuna scowled, his jaw clenching tight as his fingers gripped your thighs harder trying to stop you from writhing.
You didn't know how he found out about Gojo. The white-haired idiot pinky promised he wouldn't spill - and if you were to believe any of the men you were sleeping with, it would probably be him.
It was honestly a little more baffling he hadn't discovered you were letting Toji fuck you in the team showers after some of their practices considering they were literally teammates, but it was probably better that he didn't.
Less complicated for everyone even if you had no interest in dating any of them.
"Brat," he tch-ed, grinding down harder, his huge hand slipping between your thighs to rub your clit next. Thumb tracing over it and pressing down as if it was pretty button to push and play with.
Your thighs tensed, too much practice, too many times in this same position to not reflexively respond the way he wanted.
Heat rolling over in a big enough wave to wash over you, cumming before he could finish too, half-tempted to scoot back further and make him just fuck his fist to cum too.
But you let him finish in the condom inside of you, his deep grunt making you tense up more as you thanked your fucking birth control for being an extra safety net.
The last thing you wanted was to get stuck with a baby that would require five different paternity tests.
The risk of having him as a baby daddy was probably the worst fate you could imagine.
Aftercare was minimal. The second he slipped out, you were squirming free. Standing up and crawling off his bed while he peeled the condom off and tossed it in a nearly-full trash can. Bending over to pick up your panties and pulling them back up your thighs before getting dressed all the way, ignoring his grumbling behind you about his next game as you snagged your purse from the floor.
"I'll text you," he grunted, running his fingers through his light hair as you glanced back and rolled your eyes.
"Don't," you scoffed, not sparing him a second look before you slammed his door shut.
Swallowing hard as you shook your head to yourself once you were alone, tugging down the hem of your tiny skirt to cover just enough of your thighs to be considered close to decent.
Your legs were sore, but not quite shaking as you started down the hall towards the living room, afternoon sun filtering through the dimly-lit space to highlight your grimace as you pulled your phone out from your purse. Already planning on seeing if your friends wanted to go out for drinks at a bar off-campus just for you to run straight into someone, spilling out the contents of your bag while you huffed, head immediately snapping up just to get hit again, your forehead colliding with something hard, only belatedly realizing it was a chin when your eyes focused on the rest of him.
Messy dark hair. A strip of black tattooed across the bridge of his nose. Broad shoulders hidden in a baggy hoodie. The kind of intense eyes typically reserved for emo boys and guys who exclusively played acoustic guitar and shopped at Hot Topic.
Assessing him before you had even said sorry, scanning his tall form to figure out what category of men to sort him into.
But his stare had already left you, getting down on the floor to pick up your stuff without even trying to sneak a glance up your skirt.
"Here," he softly said, his voice almost as rough as Sukuna's, gravelly and low.
But there was nothing rude about it. DIdn't have the same harshness as he handed you loose condoms and lip gloss.
"Sorry," you muttered, a tiny bit of embarrassment slipping in while you shoved everything back in your bag. He handed you your phone, your fingers grazing against his, as your gaze skimmed back up to the guy who most definitely had to overhear you fucking his...friend?
You weren't sure. You couldn't recall seeing him around before. Not in any of your classes or at sports games or parties. Still hot though. Hopefully he didn't have a girlfriend.
"How do you know him?" You started to ask, talking quiet enough to not catch Sukuna's attention from where he was probably still wiping his cock clean and getting changed.
You hadn't realized he was wearing earbuds until he reached up to yank one out once he saw your mouth moving. "Hm?"
"Are you one of Sukuna's friends?" You asked instead, biting your lip and tilting your head, leaning in close enough to catch a whiff of his cologne. You liked it. The warmth. The spice. The subtle depth of the notes.
"No," he grunted, and you faltered, mouth twitching down in a frown.
The door behind you swung open, the man you left behind stepping out and scoffing loudly.
"The hell you still here for?" He grunted, and you only glanced over your shoulder to lob a glare at him.
But he wasn't speaking to you.
"I was about to leave," the stranger murmured, standing up to leave after dropping a few coins you missed.
You stood up next, pulling your purse back over your shoulder as you watched him leave, walking out Sukuna's door without so much as a look back. Leaving you with a sore spot on the top of your forehead and the fleeting image of his intense eyes, the low rumble of his voice.
Sukuna's hand landed on your back, but you stepped away from it, rolling your shoulders back as you sighed. "You didn't tell me someone else was here."
"Choso hardly fuckin' counts as someone," he snarkily replied back, ignoring that your stare was still lingering on the door.
Cute name.
You wouldn't mind having a sixth man on your roster if it was him.