(read premise!) If Harvard had royalty, there would only ever be two kings. Satoru Gojo. Ryomen Sukuna. The campus has spent years debating who’s hotter, who’s stronger, and which fraternity reigns supreme. Every football game, every party, and every university event becomes another battle between the two. They hate each other. Always have. Unfortunately… Only one of them is dating Y/N. Satoru Gojo genuinely loves his girlfriend. He’d never cheat. He’d never leave her. But somewhere along the way, he became far too comfortable believing she’d always be there. Between fraternity life, endless attention from other women, and an ego constantly fed by admiration, he starts taking the one person who matters most for granted. Then Ryomen Sukuna transfers in. Tattooed, pierced, riding a Harley-Davidson, and carrying a reputation almost as infamous as Gojo’s, Sukuna quickly becomes the only man on campus capable of matching him in popularity, confidence, and presence. The last thing Sukuna expects… Is to fall in love with his rival’s girlfriend. He respects her relationship too much to interfere. He never asks her to leave Gojo, never manipulates, and never crosses a line. But he also refuses to pretend he doesn’t love her. For the first time in his life, Gojo has competition—and his ego can’t handle it. Watching Sukuna make Y/N smile awakens a jealousy he’s never experienced before. Instead of communicating, he doubles down on his worst habits, chasing more attention, flirting harder, and hoping she’ll finally react. The problem? She stops. Now the entire university is watching. Gojo and Sukuna’s rivalry reaches new heights. Because this was never just a fight between two campus kings. It’s about one man realizing too late that love needs effort… Another refusing to win dishonestly… And the woman who must decide whether her future belongs to the boy she’s always loved… Or the man who never made her question her worth.
💬 313.5k
@rayurbaeThe bass thrummed through every surface. Through the walls, through the floorboards, through the soles of shoes sticky with spilled alcohol. The old Sigma Chi house had seen parties before. Nothing quite like this.