TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Mike Driver
$LAYYYTER
d e v o n
titsay
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Today's Document
YOU ARE THE REASON
Kiana Khansmith
#extradirty
Discoholic 🪩
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
izzy's playlists!
tannertan36
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
todays bird
No title available
Product Placement
Claire Keane
No title available
seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Switzerland
seen from South Africa
seen from Türkiye
seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia
seen from Sri Lanka
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from Panama
@lalazzzzzz
Why isit so hard to maintain friendships. Legit I think I'm destined to be alone, I can't keep up the friendly act BROOO I just wanna be left alone and it's not their fault- I just shut down/zone out for long periods of time and especially when I'm paying attention in class likeee is not I don't want to talk to you but I'm trynna pay attention 💀💀😭😭 I feel bad sometimes because I don't know how to explain to them and if I do explain it wld just sound werid.
Cutest jake clip ♡
Sooo guess who got a new job and I'm starting today 😀 woke up 5am to catch the first bus, grinding to get that's money 🤑🤑🤑 I feel like the friend that always has a new job 💀💀
Kill me. I'm so sad BROOO. But I shall continue to support enhypen and Heeseung/Evan' solo!!! OSO NOT MY VEDIO SO PLS GO AND LIKE THE TIKTOK TO SUPPORT THE CREATER!!!
I just started working at a bread shop and I hate it so much like genuinely my hatred for the shop is so bad. The best part is while working is that the radio just keeps on replaying KATSEYE music 😔 my KATSEYE Dr Ive been trying to shift to everynight 😭😭😭😭😭 THE RADIO IS TESTING MY PATIENCE I SWEAR TO GOD
how it feels to be a shifter and not telling your family and friends about it
ᯓ WAIT, I CAN MAKE YOU CUM TOO — OT6
℘ — p1harmony ot6 x reader ▸ ⌜ 10.3k ⌟
synopsis ▸ ever since that night, the boys have been nothing but generous to you. so much so that you think it’s about time you give back to them, but of course, they (jiung) have to make things difficult for you: you can’t cum without making them all cum first. what starts as a simple challenge devolves into pure debauchery, and the night falls quickly out of hand. your hand, at least.
δ — nsfw (mdni), smut, unprotected sex, gangbang, meandom!hyung line, switch!maknae line, oral (m. rec), handjob, reverse cowgirl, face fucking, fingering, double penetration, anal, degradation, name calling, dirty talk, rough handling, just a whole lotta filth
ᯓ an — the long awaited sequel to wait, he’s never made you cum before? hopefully it lives up to its predecessor… but this is my gift to you for 2k followers!! still in disbelief, but so so grateful for you all <3 enjoy!
MASTERLIST
In hindsight, leaving your phone unlocked in that den of boundless wolves was a terrible idea, especially with what you left open and forgotten in your search tab in your late night delirium of morbid curiosity.
But the popcorn was running low and everyone else was too hung up on their pointless argument of the day, so could you really blame it on them when you walk back out to the living room to see them hovered over Intak who had taken your phone to fact check the hot actress’s name?
Yes, but it’s no less mortifying.
They stare at the screen, jaws agape, some faces (Keeho, Taeyang) beyond amused and some faces (Jiung, Jongseob) beyond red.
And you have a hankering for exactly what they’re looking at.
“What,” you start, slow and sharp. “The fuck,” their eyes snap up to you in unison, wide and glittering. “Are you doing?”
It’s silent.
Until,
“I don’t know, noona,” Intak starts with a wide beam on his face, the apples of his cheeks tinged pink. “Why are you searching up how to give a blowjob?”
The popcorn bowl in your hand clatters to the kitchen counter as you immediately make way to lunge at him.
But a body intercepts you, catching you around the waist and spinning you away from Intak’s shrieking self.
“Shota, let me at him!” You yelp, thrashing in his grasp. “Give me back my phone!”
There’s commotion behind you as you continue to struggle in Shota’s iron grip, voices overhauling each other to fight for the phone.
“Wait, there’s another tab!” You hear Keeho yell, sounding positively overjoyed. “How to please your man in six—”
“Stop!” You cry, thrashing even harder. Your body burns, your head feels dizzy, and you feel like you might actually throw up from embarrassment.
Shota, sensing your distress, has the decency to let you go.
You immediately bolt to where Keeho’s sitting on the floor beside Intak, snatching the phone from his grasp before he can even react.
He jumps back when you do, startled by your speed. “Wait, I wanna see—“
“You,” you snap, ignoring him completely to glare at Intak. You’re seething, breathing heavy, and looking surely vaguely deranged. “Do you have no manners? What makes you think you can just take people's phones?!”
Intak gapes at you, jaw working around empty words as he struggles to defend himself. “I-I just wanted to search up if that was really her—“
“You idiot, I don’t care if—“ You immediately cut yourself when you see his eyes start to glimmer with tears, blinking in an attempt to push them back with no avail. “Okay, that’s not fair, you can’t just cry your way out of every problem.”
He grins then, expression switching in a split second. “Can I kiss my way out of it then?”
Your sputter, Jongseob cutting in before you can. “Please,” he scoffs, roughly shoving Intak’s arm. “Like you haven’t been doing enough kissing.”
Your cheeks flush, mind flitting back to all those mornings that Intak had made you burn your eggs while he kept you distracted with his head between your thighs. It was a lot more than kissing…
“Not enough with how you and Shota are always hogging her,” Intak immediately retorts, shoving him back.
Memories of morning indulgences fade into late nights in Shota’s chair with Jongseob on the line over a forgotten game, and more late nights in Jongseob’s lap to “keep him warm” while he finishes a round or two.
“You three are equally terrible,” Keeho cuts in while Shota snickers in the back, then adds under his breath, “Selfish brats.”
He’s not wrong. With how often the younger three steal you away, you rarely get more than a few indulgent kisses with Keeho.
“We’re getting off topic,” Taeyang, ever the mediator, pipes in. He’s still smirking from where he’s sat on the couch behind Intak, watching you with slitted, mischievous little eyes. “Care to explain?”
Your defenses crawl up your skin, as they always do whenever Taeyang is in the picture. As far as intimacies go since that night two weeks ago, you haven’t shared much with him save for some teasing touches and lingering looks that make you wonder just why he hasn’t initiated anything more like the others.
Well, like the others except Jiung, the only one who seems to be actively avoiding you. Your eyes glance at him without your permission. He’s tucked himself away to the farthest corner of the big couch, his gaze stuck down to where he picks at his nail.
You ignore the sting in your chest—whatever, you’re not that greedy.
“If you must know,” you relent with a huff, turning your narrowed eyes back to Taeyang. The only way to fight his can’t-be-damned demeanour is with one of your own. “I just wanted to learn how to repay you guys.”
“Repay?” Shota asks with a blink and a tilt of his head from where he stands.
You shrug your shoulders, dropping onto the bean bag across from where the others are loosely huddled. “You guys have been… giving a lot,” you say for lack of better wording. “And I don’t want to just take and not give forever.”
The grin that grows on Keeho’s lips is smug and a little fond. “Aw, but I like taking care of my princess,” he teases with just a hint of condescension. “You know we like taking care of you.”
The admission is honest. And it makes something warm pool in your belly that’s not just arousal.
“I know,” you mumble, shuffling to sit up straighter. “But my point still stands. I want to be able to make you guys cum too.”
There’s a pause that settles as they take in your admission, so earnest, leaving you squirming a little in your chair. You think you hear a hitched breath here or there.
“Yeah?” Intak breathes out eventually, eyes wide and eager as he watches you. “Show us what you learned then,” he says, ever so eager. “From your research.”
Your eyes snap wide open as you peer around the room, keeping your gaze away from the corner. “Here? Now?”
“Is there a better time?” Taeyang asks. He’s leaned back on his elbows, head tilted slightly so that his hair is wisped over his face in a stupidly attractive way.
You almost glare at him. “I suppose not…”
“Don’t be nervous,” Keeho coos, then starts giggling at his own joke before he even voices it. “Even if we’re not easy it's not like you have to worry about making Jiung cum.”
Your stomach lurches when Jiung’s head snaps up to look at Keeho (and thankfully not you). “What happened last time wasn’t my fault!”
“Oh, then whose was it?”
“It was T—“ He stops himself, seeming to think better as his ears turn pink. He scoffs, crossing his arms. “Doesn’t matter. I didn’t get a proper chance last time.”
“Well, have you tried to redeem yourself yet?” Keeho asks with a shit-eating grin on his face, leaning over Taeyang’s lap to poke at Jiung.
Jiung pushes himself farther away while swatting at his hand, refusing to look anyone in the eye. “I—That’s not—“
Taeyang snickers, watching Jiung with an equally amused grin. “Embarrassed?”
They’re scary together, Keeho and Taeyang. You wonder just how much they would push Jiung, how much they have in the past.
Jiung’s face turns fire red, and it makes you giggle.
His eyes snap to you, and you purse your lips together, quickly averting your gaze.
You can see him narrow his eyes at you from your peripheral. “I don’t think you should be laughing,” he says sharply, and it draws your gaze back to him, lips parting in shock.
“Excuse me?”
There’s a shift in his gaze. You hate to admit how his gaze makes your skin prickle, like being simply acknowledged by him is what your body’s been craving. Gone is the fidgety, nervous mess that Jiung is whenever he would get near you after that fateful night. Before you is the Jiung who’d commanded you with just his voice, the one who’d made you nearly cum on just the sound alone.
“How about you try it? You wanna make us cum?” He asks, and something about the way his eyes sharpen, the way his voice lowers, it makes you inclined to obey his every word. “Don’t cum without making us finish first. We’ll see who’s laughing then.”
It lights something in your chest, something hot and vengeful. You meet his narrowed eyes with your own. Jiung’s known to be stubborn but you’re no better, especially in the face of a challenge.
“Does everything have to be a game with you people?” You scoff, though you’re already tracing him over, willing yourself to recall every one of his weak spots.
Jiung notices, and places the pillow in his lap aside, like he’s giving you free reign to try. It makes you want to claw at him.
“Didn’t you have a good time last time?” He asks with a raised brow. He shifts to sit closer to the edge of the couch, parting his legs almost in invitation. “Come on. Show us what you learned from your research.”
The way he says ‘research’ with a hint of condescension to his voice makes your head burn with the need to shut him the fuck up. It also makes the space between your legs burn, but you don’t concern yourself with that.
Six pairs of eyes watch you as you rise to your feet and make your way to Jiung. It almost feels like that night, with you all exposed and vulnerable for the taking, except entirely different because now it’s not just one on one, or three on one.
You barely survived the last time, and if this leads to anything like that… you can’t imagine how you’ll survive this time. Especially now that you can’t come.
You drop to your knees in the space between his legs, your eyes locked onto his heated ones. They’re dark, almost entirely swallowed by his pupils as he watches you.
No one says a word as they watch you watch each other. Almost like they’re waiting in bated breath, unsure of who might lash out first.
“And if I win?” You ask, resting your hands on his knees, a light touch that makes his legs give a minuscule twitch. “What do I get?”
He huffs out a tiny laugh, short and breathy as he reaches to card his hand through your hair, pushing the tresses back and nudging you closer with his hand on the back of your head. “As if you don’t have enough?” He clicks his tongue. “I didn’t take you for being greedy.”
But you don’t give to his push, your lips pulling up when his brows pinch together at your disobedience. “And I didn’t take you for being a pussy.”
He scowls at you, but you cut in before he can retort.
“It’s only fair.” You slide your hands slowly up the expanse of his thighs, his muscles tensing under the heat of your palms. You preen internally, at how you have him under the control of your touch this time. Is this what gives Taeyang his giant ego? “Reward and punishment, isn’t it?”
“She’s got a point,” says the devil, Taeyang, himself. He’s not too far now, moved closer to Jiung on the couch.
Jiung works his jaw, his fingers gripping down and digging into your skull. “We can make you cum however you want. Your pick.”
The prospect makes you smile. “I can work with that.”
“Good. Now are you gonna shut up and—“ He cuts off with a hiss, head tilting back when you cup your hand over the strained tent in his lap and firmly knead down.
It’s a nice feeling under your palm, not entirely unfamiliar as Intak had guided your hand clumsily over himself during one of your quick chases for relief, but it’s never been anything exploratory.
You shift your hand, finding the thick length of his shaft, and slowly drag a tight hand along it over the fabric of his pants.
Jiung grits back a choked groan, his hips bucking up to chase the touch.
“So sensitive,” you coo without thought, but you don’t get to savor it before he’s shoving your hand off of him and reaching for his waistband.
“Don’t stall,” he says, pushing down his sweats and his boxers down to his thighs. You’re reunited with the sight of his cock, half hard as he takes it into his hand and gives it a firm tug. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him, at the pearly drops gathered at his flushed tip. “C’mon.” He puts his hand on the back of your head again, urging you forward. “Show me what you learned.”
You could fight back. Or you could just make him weep.
So you give under his pull this time, bracing your hands in his thighs once more, and rise up on your knees to take him into your mouth.
Your lips wrap snug around his tip, the musky taste of him bursting on your tongue at the first swipe along his slit.
You hum at the unfamiliar taste, following your instinct to give it a suck to taste more of him on your tongue.
Jiung’s fingers tighten in your hair, digging down to push you.
You give under the push, sinking down to take more of his length. The intrusion is foreign and makes your throat clench when his tip brushes the back of your mouth, but the details from the article you’d read just last night flit back to you.
You breathe in deep through your nose and let your muscles relax around him, and only then do you push to take just a bit more.
It’s too much. Your throat clenches around him uncomfortably and you pull off immediately, coughing into your arm.
Keeho somehow appears on your left (he must have moved at some point from Taeyang’s side) and reaches to brush your hair back.
“She’s so eager,” he teases, almost obligatory, because then he’s wrapping a gentle hand under your jaw and guiding you back to Jiung’s cock. “Don’t take too much too quick.”
“We shouldn’t be allowed to help,” you hear Taeyang mumble.
You flush under the careful watch, wrapping your hand around Jiung’s base as Keeho guides you to take Jiung back in your mouth regardless of what Taeyang says.
“You’re just a bitch Tae,” Keeho says distantly, too focused on the way your lips stretch around Jiung, who’s already starting to look a little too affected so early on. “She went through all that trouble of learning, best we can do is guide her through it. Isn’t it, princess?” He hums, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to the apple of your heated cheek. He revels in the little whimper you let out, his own cock stirring in his jeans as he lets his hand join Jiung’s to push you down a little further. “You’re gonna take all our cocks aren’t you?” He whispers in your ear, chuckling at the choked sound you give. “Gonna make us all cum like our good little whore?”
He wants to push you more, but he gets yanked back by Jiung’s hand on the back of his collar.
“Stop interrupting her,” he snaps, shooting him a nasty side glare before turning back to watch you as you slide up to suckle at his tip.
Keeho rolls his eyes but relents, settling to palm himself through his jeans. He can be patient. For now.
But all of that noise goes over your head, because you’re too caught up in the heady taste of Jiung on your tongue.
His hand stays a steady presence in your hair, not quite pushing anymore, but there to remind you that he will if he needs to.
But he doesn’t need to, not when you start a steady pace of sinking down to take half his length then slip up and work the gummy head with your tongue while your hand works whatever you can’t fit in your mouth.
It’s clumsy at first, exploring and learning, but your movements become sharper by the second. The sounds are lewd, wet and filthy, mingling among the heavy breaths here and there not just from you.
You glance up to see Jiung’s blown eyes steadfast on you, his cheeks flushed, his brows pinched and lips slightly bitten. He’s breathing heavily, a sure sign that you’re doing something right.
The sight of him shoots electric heat right to your core, where you can feel yourself dampening by the second. Your thighs are pressed together to quell some of that helpless desire, but it’s not enough. Whatever, it’s not like you can do much about that anyway—you’re not sure you can handle one of Taeyang’s punishments if he deems you worthy of one for failing Jiung’s challenge.
The state that Jiung was left in that night… you don’t think you’d survive.
You look up at him again. He’s got his head tilted back, lips parted as he pants. Your clit gives a pathetic throb—what you’d do to get him in that state yourself. Maybe you really are starting to understand Taeyang.
Taeyang, who’s sitting at your right and palming himself through his sweats. He notices that you’re peering up through your lashes, of course he does, and gives you a lazy, smug little smile.
But you don’t pay it any mind, your eyes locking onto the thick bulge straining the fabric.
Your mouth slows down on Jiung, opting to stay and suckle at the tip as if you’re almost entranced by the sight of Taeyang’s hand wrapped over himself, pulsing down to relieve himself. Your hand gives an involuntary twitch.
Jiung’s hips buck up, his tip poking up into the side of your cheek and nearly grazing against your teeth.
“Come on,” he whispers under his breath impatiently, and it spurs you back.
You hollow your cheeks, sucking tightly around his cock as you slide down and up, and Jiung lets out a satisfied groan over you.
“There you go,” he sighs, nails gently grazing into your scalp. “Good…”
It makes you whimper around him, the sound making him buck up into your mouth again. You can’t really tell if he’s getting close just yet, but you know you’re winding him up to it. Maybe you just need to double your efforts.
But you can’t, because Taeyang takes the hand you have holding onto Jiung’s knee and places it right over his own erection.
Your hand twitches at the sudden feel of him, your mouth faltering again, eyes snapping to the side to watch as Taeyang kneads your hand down with the guide of his own hand splayed over yours.
He’s hot under your hand even through the fabric, thick and pulsing and impossibly hard. You’d nearly forgotten just how big he is.
Without thinking, you reach up to his waistband and tug down.
Taeyang smirks, lifting his hips to shuck his sweats and boxers down, letting himself spring free as he settles to sit closer, almost flush against Jiung’s side.
Jiung doesn’t protest, can’t really when you eagerly grasp Taeyang in your hand. He can’t be that greedy when he’s given you such a long task. And he doesn’t quite hate the pained hiss Taeyang lets out when you drag your fist up his cock, the touch too dry to be pleasurable.
But Jiung does hate it when you move off of him to reach over and take Taeyang’s cock into your mouth. He also hates that his dick twitches at the sight of your lips stretched around the thick girth as you struggle to take him in and slick him up with your tongue.
Taeyang’s hand twitches at his side but before he can get his grubby hands on you, Jiung pulls you off of him with his hand back in your hair and not so gently pulls you back to himself. Fuck not being greedy, he is. For you he is, and he’s been watching the others have their fill of you for the past few weeks while all he did was watch from a distance and wallow at his own pathetic self.
“Jesus,” Taeyang scoffs at his side, but Jiung can’t bring himself to care as he feeds you his cock again, sighing at the warmth of your mouth engulfing him. “Didn’t take you for a pusher, Jiungie.”
Jiung scowls at the nickname, gripping down on your hair when you sink further, enough to have him hitting the back of your throat with each bob of your head. He shudders at the sensitivity.
“Tired of not getting what I want,” he muttered passively, blinking back the haze that’s starting to cloud his vision.
Taeyang lets out a pleased groan, and Jiung glances over to see that you’re working him with your fist at the same pace you’re working your mouth.
He watches as Taeyang’s face twitches each time you pass over your tip, twisting your hand around it with each upstroke. Whatever article you’d read on that must have been good. Or you’re just a natural.
Whatever it is, Jiung feels a twisted sense of pleasure fester in his chest at Taeyang being so affected by so little.
“Sensitive?” Jiung asks, not bothering to mask the condescension dripping from his tone.
Taeyang opens his fluttering eyes and laughs breathily, looking down at where Jiung is starting to subconsciously buck his hips up to meet your mouth.
“Don’t worry about me,” Taeyang says, brows pinching and teeth gritting when your hand starts to pick up the pace. “Close?”
Jiung doesn’t know what it is that sets off that competitive fire in him, but he thinks that somehow, cumming first would mean losing to Taeyang. And he can’t allow that to happen. Again.
“Not even,” he lies, willing that heat in his gut to loosen. But it’s there and it’s insistent with each swirl of your tongue over his cock, with each little suckle you give his tip every time you drag up.
“Good. Me neither,” Taeyang says, and Jiung knows it’s a lie too.
But you don’t notice, far too busy with the cock in your mouth and the other one in your hand. It’s difficult to coordinate with just them, but it becomes infinitely more so when someone settles behind you, lifts your hips, and starts grinding their hard-on against your clothed cunt.
You moan at the sharp pleasure that bursts through your body. The groan behind you lets you know it’s Intak, and you’re not surprised in the least.
You are, though, a little miffed when he starts a steady pace rutting into you, distracting you with the heady heat that climbs through your body with his dick slotted right between your aching folds.
You lose track of both Jiung and Taeyang, your body honed in on the pressure that your body’s been craving for so long.
And it makes Taeyang impatient, because he reaches over to dig his hand in your hair and starts to guide your head on Jiung with unabashed force.
Your confused hum gets lost on Jiung as he moans, his hips starting to twitch and tremble under you.
Another hand wraps around yours on Taeyang’s cock, bigger and rougher than Taeyang’s, and starts to guide your hand at a quicker pace, but with the mess of everything you can’t really care.
So you shut your eyes and focus, trying to ignore as Intak ruts against you, and hone your efforts.
It’s enough damage to Taeyang, who knows he’s probably fighting a losing battle because with your hand and Jiung’s hand working his cock, he knows he’s bound to not last.
And when Jiung sets his mind to something, he’s usually not one to back down (save for some of his more… vulnerable moments).
But he tries anyway, pushing your head down in Jiung’s lap and forcing you to take him down to the hilt. He only feels a little bad as you gag and sputter around it, but he’s not too guilty when Jiung lets out a choked moan and bows up off the couch.
But he’s annoying, and he doesn’t cum yet, just spurs his hand over yours to move quicker on Taeyang.
“You’re a fucking cheat,” Jiung gasps, pushing Taeyang’s hand off to give you some reprieve as you pant and recover. But you don’t waste time, taking Jiung right back down your throat.
Taeyang’s retort dies on his tongue when Jiung guides your hand to give short, quick strokes at his sensitive tip. He curses as he pulses under the grip, digging his hand into the cushion.
“You’re just bitter you lost,” he says anyway through his choked grunts.
His body writhes under the sensation, gasping when your hand twists around the head of his cock before tightly sinking down. His hips start to buck up with a mind of their own, his eyes rolling back when your hand starts those tight, mind numbing strokes along his tip again.
“You’re a… fuck…” he tries to speaking, but you’re fucking the words out of his head when you move your hand even quicker. “You’re just a s-sore fucking los-er—nngh!”
Taeyang’s body tenses up off the couch, his head thrown back as he gasps for breath, holding on to the last thread of his control.
But it snaps when Jiung leans in, whispering into Taeyang’s ear, breath fanning hot against his already heated skin. “Yeah? Then why are you about to cum?”
Taeyang cums with a ragged yell, spurting hot, thick ropes over your rapid hand. Jiung watches his body writhe through his orgasm—and something about the way he moans and whimpers, the way he trembles and twitches under your hand, the way his plush lips part for air, it does Jiung in.
He curses, grabs your jaw and slides his cock back into your mouth (you’d popped off to focus on milking Taeyang for all he’s worth), and starts to ruthlessly fuck his cock up into your open, pliant mouth.
He gasps as his orgasm builds, crashing over as he starts to shove his cock deep into your throat uncaring for the way your gag around him. And he seats himself in deep, grinding up into your face as he spills down your throat with a guttural groan, his entire body trembling through the overwhelming crash.
You start to push at him eventually, and he lets go amidst his daze, his body going liquid into the cushions as you cough his release back over him.
You’re pretty sure you’re seeing stars, your head spinning and mind reeling all at once. It’s only the insistent pressure of Intak still needily rutting against you that tethers you to reality.
You don’t really get to recover, because Intak’s arms wind around you from behind and pull you to his chest, seating you on his lap over his needy arousal.
His breath is hot and damp against your ear. “Can I eat you out?”
You nearly laugh through your daze at just how addicted he is to living with his head between your thighs. But that’s not what tonight is for.
“No,” you say, reaching back to scratch affectionately into his hair with a pointed grind down on his cock that has him grunting.
You press your lips lazily to his cheek, Jiung’s cum smearing over his skin, but he doesn’t seem to mind it at all as he turns to you and licks it off your lip before kissing you half heartedly, his mind too caught up in grinding against you.
“Gonna take care of you tonight,” you mumble into the kiss, lifting off of him.
He lets out a little whine when you disconnect, only settling when he sees you just stripping yourself of your layers. You hear him hastily pull his own clothes too before pulling you in and slotting cock against your ass.
You gasp as he starts rocking you down, panting into your ear. “Don’t care, just wanna fuck you,” he whines.
You click your tongue, moving to raise off of him but his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you right back down.
“Please, noona, just sit on my cock,” he pleads.
You feel him against the swell of your ass, hard and pulsing with need, practically begging you to.
“You better listen.”
Keeho’s voice pulls your attention to him as he raises from where he was sitting, his dick sitting long and pretty in his hand as he works it.
You watch as he closes in on you, stopping to stand right in front of you. He strokes himself slowly as he peers down at you with lust ridden eyes, his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip.
“If he gets impatient enough he’ll just take what he wants,” he says, voice deep and gravelly. He taps the head of his cock against your lip, smearing the wetness, but something tells you not to do anything without his direct command. “But you’re no stranger to that.”
“No,” you say, letting your breath brush over him. You fight a smile when you see him twitch in his hand. “Have you been watching us, Kyo?”
His smug expression falters for just a second before it livens back into a nearly wicked grin. “Maybe I have,” he says calmly, then hooks the head of his cock against the corner of your lips and pulls, popping out before he digs back in just to push against your teeth.
You still don’t open.
His brows twitch, a flicker of irritation that makes you smile.
But not for long; because then Intak bristles under you, seeming to have had enough. He just wraps one arm around you and hoists you up, his other hand guiding his cock against your sopping cunt.
You gasp at the blunt pressure, at the sheer size of him as he messily seeks out your hole. You’ve never actually taken him before, only seen him once, and you’re quickly reminded of his size, just shy of Taeyang’s.
“W-Wait,” you try to say, but Intak ignores you completely. You gasp when he hooks against your entrance and pushes at the same time he pulls you down.
The stretch as he pierces into you is devastating. Your mouth falls open in a loud cry, your walls clamping down and protesting at the sudden intrusion.
And Keeho takes the opportunity to bully his cock into your mouth, sheathing himself in to the hilt and making you gag.
It’s all encompassing, the feeling of being full from everywhere. Your head gets dizzier the longer Keeho keeps himself buried down your throat, cutting off all your oxygen as he keeps you pressed to his naval with a rough hand in your hair. Intak ruts himself even deeper and holds there, panting and whining at the tightness around his needy cock.
You think you might pass out.
But then Keeho pulls out completely, squeezing down at his base to stave off his quickly rising orgasm. The look on your face almost did him in, cross eyed and empty headed, purely blissed out.
You cough, gasping for air as you try to recover, but Keeho doesn’t feel like being too nice tonight.
“Open,” he says, and his dick jumps at how quickly you let your mouth fall open at his command.
He grins, stroking his fingers gently in your hair as he holds you in place. “Good bunny,” he whispers, then starts to fuck himself into your warm, pliant mouth.
You take it so well, humming softly around him with each stroke, gagging just a little each time he brushes against the back of your throat. The pace is languid, merciful for now.
Your eyes flutter closed, lost at the taste of him, at the feeling. But Intak looks like he’s about to burst into tears under you.
He has to tap your cheek to gain your attention again, and when you blink your hazy eyes open, he places his hand under your jaw to lift you a little.
“Come on, don’t forget about Takki.”
Realization flits through the daze in your eyes, and you follow his pull to rise to your knees, bracing your hands against his sturdy thighs, nails digging into the rough denim.
Slowly, you rise, and Keeho watches as Intak’s eyes roll back, as his body slumps back onto the seat of the couch behind him.
And when you sink back down, slow and like it takes you a great deal of effort to impale yourself on his cock again, Keeho’s pretty sure Intak is gone.
He just laughs at the sight, biting back a comment about how pathetic you both look, and lets you set the pace and adjust to his size.
Soon enough you’re bouncing on his cock with ease, moaning around Keeho like a wanton whore as you chase the burning pleasure which each slam of your hips down on his. Your mission remains a weary thing in the recesses of your mind—you can’t cum without making them cum first.
But it’s becoming more and more difficult by the second to heed to it, because with Intak filling you up, the ridges of his cock stroking every inch of your gummy walls so nicely, all your body wants to do is fuck until you can’t anymore.
And you nearly get lost in that feeling, nearly let yourself chase that release.
Until Keeho grips down on your hair and starts to pound his cock into your mouth, uncaring for the way it makes you gag each time he breaches your throat.
“Fuck,” he hisses above you, his gut coiling at the sight of tears brimming your eyes. But you don’t protest, dutifully taking it as he ruins your throat while you keep fucking yourself down on Intak, though you get clumsier by the second.
Intak is just a mess—moaning and writhing about how noona feels so good, gonna make him cum—he won’t even bother with that.
Keeho’s too focused on you fucking yourself dumb, letting yourself be used like this.
“You’re a fucking cockslut,” he laughs, voice breathy and ragged through his moans. He tightens his grasp on your jaw, digging his thumb into your cheek to feel himself through the barrier. “Bet you’re close from this, aren’t you?”
You nod on him, whining when he stops to rub his tip down on your tongue.
“Yeah? You get off on being used like a cocksleeve?”
Your body gives a quick jerk, like the words were a physical thing threatening to pull your orgasm out of you. It makes his cock pulse dangerously against your tongue.
He grits his teeth, cursing before he starts slamming back into your throat, his pace unforgiving. “Just made for this,” he gasps, the coil in his gut tightening each time you gag on him. You’ve stopping moving on Intak, and Intak starts whining under you, trying to fuck him self up and jerking your body with the movements, but Keeho doesn’t care.
He continues to selfishly chase his orgasm, uncaring for the way you’re convulsing around him. You keep taking it, not pushing, not pulling, just taking.
And it ruins Keeho. He pulls out completely with a pained grunt, fisting himself frantically to completion, holding you in place by the jaw as you gasp and cough and squirm. Thick ropes of his cum spurt out as he finishes with a low grunt, painting your face in pearly white streaks.
Your mouth opens subconsciously, trying to catch his release, and Keeho groans, his cock giving another pathetic little kick at the sight. He indulges you, pushing his tip down on your tongue to smear the rest of his release before pulling back.
You hum at the taste, your body nearly giving out, until Intak, who’s had just about enough, lifts you up and pushes you down onto all fours.
You yelp, scrambling to catch yourself on your hands but Intak pushes you down with a hand between your shoulderblades, arching your ass up to meet his hips where he still remains buried inside you.
“Sorry, noona,” he heaves. “I can’t wait anymore.”
Then he starts to piston into you with no restraint, punching your breaths effectively out of your lungs with each slam of his hips. It hurts with how rough he is, but it burns so good that he rapidly drives not only himself to his orgasm, but yours too.
Alarms blare in your head, and you scramble to push him back but it’s a useless attempt.
“T-Tak, no, ‘m gonna—“
He doesn’t care, holding your hips with both hands, bracing one foot down on the floor so he can pummel into you even harder.
“Can’t stop,” he pants, barely sane as he chases the frantic heat. “C-Can’t stop, noona, need t’cum in y—fuck!”
His orgasm barrels through him unannounced and he fucks it out in you, babbling for you to take it.
It nearly pushes you over. But you’re practically ripped away from him, you cunt empty and clenching around nothing but warm cum, as the world spins around before you’re dumped somewhere.
That somewhere happens to be Shota on the love seat, completely bare of clothes as he wastes no time to shove his hard cock into you.
You whine, writhing in his hold at the sudden stretch, though it’s not completely unwelcome.
“No, stop,” Shota pleads, tightening his strong arms around you. “Stay, I’m so hard.”
“Yeah, noona,” sounds a silky voice from behind you, teasing and light as another wall of warmth hovers at your back. “Stay. Or Shota might cry from not getting his dick wet.”
Shota huffs, rutting up into you. “Shut up, Seobie, just get to work.”
You whine as Shota digs much deeper into you. He’s slimmer than Intak, but longer in a way that makes your toes curl.
“Pushy,” Jongseob chuckles, pressing a warm kiss to your shoulder before he shifts.
Your mind drifts immediately, too far removed from whatever Jongseob was doing as Shota slowly, shallowly fucks up into you. Not in a chase for anything, just as something to do as he waits…?
Your body seizes up taut, a ragged gasp ripping from your throat as you feel a wet pressure start to prod against your hole—not the one Shota’s currently buried in.
“S-Seob!” You yell, squirming as you feel the pressure start to circle the tight ring of muscle.
“Shh, relax,” he coos into your ear, barely pushing against your hole before he starts to circle it again. “It’s just my finger. Gonna open you up first.”
Fuck, you’d nearly forgotten you’d mentioned to him this was something you wanted to try. But you were too drunk on his cock at the time, delirious to what you were saying. It must have stuck with him, if he came prepared to seize any opportunity.
“B-But I’m supposed t’make you…” You trail off with a gasp when he tries to prod into you again.
He presses another kiss to the back of your head. “You will.”
Your knees tighten against Shota’s waist, your hole clenching in resistance when he tries to push in again. Your clit gives a pathetic throb, brushing against the base of Shota’s dick, and you’re quickly reminded of your burning need to cum.
So you start whining.
Taeyang knows exactly why. He’d been watching you intently as the others took their turn with you from where he sat, languidly stroking his newly hardened cock.
“What is it?” He asks, doing nothing to hide the amusement in his voice. “Need to cum?”
You nod immediately, squirming, but Shota and Jongseob both hold you still.
“Please,” you sob, your wide eyes flitting over to Taeyang. “Please, just once, need to… please…”
Taeyang’s about to respond, but Jiung beats him to the punch.
“No,” he says, prompt and final.
Taeyang looks to his right, raising a brow at Jiung who watches on. He’s hard again where he’s tucked himself back into his pants, but he doesn’t touch. He just watches.
Taeyang would be impressed if he wasn’t a little pissed off by him.
His gaze turns back to you at the sob you let out, dropping your head to Shota’s chest as you accept your defeat.
You’re still fidgety and tense, Jongseob getting a little frustrated when he’s not making any progress. So Taeyang, being the generous hyung he is, slips his hand out of his pants and gets up, making his way over. He doesn’t mind helping.
You perk up a little at his presence, your eyes immediately locking onto where he’s straining against his sweats where it stands almost eye level with you.
Taeyang scoffs, reaching down to pull himself out. “Come here,” he says, barely having to guide himself before you’re lifting up to take him into your mouth. He sighs at the wet heat wrapping around himself, brushing his thumb against your hollowed cheeks. “That’s it, you feel better with cock in your mouth, don’t you?”
He doesn’t mind helping as long as it gets him his dick sucked.
You just hum around him, too dumb to properly respond. But it seems to do the trick, distracting you enough as you languidly suck on him to have your body relax.
Even Shota latches onto your nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue around it to ease a steady buzz of warm pleasure through your body.
It relaxes you enough that you don’t even notice Jongseob slip the tip of his finger past your rim. Until he starts to shallowly fuck it into you.
You bristle at the unfamiliar feeling, too sharp and intruding for your body to handle. But Jongseob quickly grabs your hip, holding you down.
“Easy, easy,” he consoles, rubbing his hand gently along your spine. “You’re doing good. Just relax, let me in. Just breathe.”
His smooth, low voice thrums pleasantly in your head, easing you down.
You hum softly as Shota switches to your other nipple, sucking softly at Taeyang’s tip as Jongseob slowly pushes his finger in to the second, then third knuckle until his finger sits fully sheathed into you.
“That’s it, baby,” he coos, slowly pulling it out just to push it back in. He kisses your shoulder at your trembling whimpers. “I know, love, I know but it’ll feel better soon, promise.”
And it does, slowly but surely.
He manages to shallowly thrust his finger into you, the stretch becoming more bearable by the second. Your little whimpers spill around Taeyang’s cock where it just sits there on your tongue now, waiting, not pushing.
Soon enough, Jongseob is pushing a second finger in, making your body crumble onto Shota’s chest. But he doesn’t stop, he guides you through it as he scissors you open.
Taeyang guides himself back into your mouth with a hand on your jaw, the other carding through your hair. “You’re taking it so well,” he says softly, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You melt at the uncharacteristic gesture, blinking your bleary eyes up at him. “You’re just that greedy for cock, hm?”
He grins at the fresh wave of tears that pool in your eyes when Jongseob starts to push the third finger in, pouring more lube over your hole to make the slide easier.
But it still devastates you, makes you wail when he sits all three of his fingers to the base.
“That’s enough,” Taeyang says, showing you some mercy as he pulls out to let you gasp the air threatening to leave your lungs. “She can take it now, hurry up.”
Jongseob clicks his tongue at his pushy tone but pulls his fingers out anyway, watching your hole gape around nothing. The comment dies on his tongue as he slicks himself up generously before pushing against the tight ring of muscle.
You jolt at the heavy pressure, far more daunting than his fingers. Your whine of protest is barely a whine at all, just a broken sound because you’re too far gone for anything else.
Then he starts to push in, and it feels like you’re being ripped open, impaled by his hard cock, carved out to make space for him.
You cry out, your nails digging into Shota’s chest at the overbearing intrusion.
“Easy,” you hear Taeyang say from above, his fingers scratching down into your scalp. “Slower.”
He’s not talking to you, though you wouldn’t have much of a mind to listen even if he was. You drop your weight on Shota, who’s tense under you from how hard you’re clenched around him.
Soon enough, Jongseob sheathes himself fully in you. And full doesn’t even begin to explain just what you feel.
You hear your name, gentle against your ear.
“Are you okay?” Shota asks from under you. His thumb comes up to brush away the tear rolling down your cheek.
You let out a stuttered breath, swallowing down the tension in your throat. You breathe out, trying to let go of the tension everywhere else.
Your body eases slowly as it adjusts to Jongseob’s girth, and you find yourself nodding.
“Okay,” you manage to slur, whimpering when Shota presses a warm kiss to your lips.
He uses it as a distraction to buck his hips up slightly, an experimental roll of his hips to see where you are.
When all you give is a soft, pleasured hum as the base of his cock rubs against your aching clit, he starts to slowly rock his hips up until all you’re doing is panting into his lips.
Jongseob doesn’t move just yet, not until he feels you relax more around him. He’s struggling too, at the death grip you have around him, but when you start to ease up, he thrusts into you once just as Shota thrusts out.
You tense up again but it’s momentary, a choked moan escaping you.
Jongseob thrusts in again, and again, then starts to fuck into you at a steady pace, pulling out when Shota pushes into your cunt.
Your body is completely liquid, molten against them to mould and move as they please, as they take what they want.
It doesn’t hurt anymore, it’s just a steady stream of burning pleasure that grows hotter the more frantic their thrusts become, the noisier they become as they fuck you in tandem.
You give yourself to them mindlessly.
Until Taeyang slides a hand under your head to lift you up, prodding his cock back into your mouth.
You take him pliantly as he starts to fuck into the tight space, groaning low.
“Perfect little cocksleeve, aren’t ya?” He gasps mindlessly, twitching in your mouth.
Your only let your jaw fall wider, gagging around him when he starts to fuck into your throat, but you just take it.
Shota’s whining under you, pretty scarlet lines blooming on his chest from your nails dig down. “F-Feels so good like this,” he gasps, slamming up into you as much as he can with what the tight space can allow.
“So fucking tight,” Jongseob grunts from behind you, hands gripping tight on your hips as he pounds into you. “Shit, not g-gonna last long…”
You moan around Taeyang, your own body pushed closer and closer to its limits. Your neglected pleasure won’t stay intact for much longer, but the recesses of your mind still fears what might happen if you let go too soon.
Taeyang cums in your mouth without warning, pushing in deep to spurt down your throat with a ragged groan.
“Fuck,” he gasps, pulling out as you start coughing, roughly pushing the little bead of release escaping the corner of your mouth back into your tongue with his finger. “Don’t waste it.”
You’re barely recovering from Taeyang, your body jerking under Shota and Jongseob’s brutal thrusts, when Intak shoves his way in, seating himself in your mouth.
You bristle under the sudden intrusion but Intak holds you in place with a hand behind your head, starting to fuck frantically into your tongue.
“Sorry, noona,” he breathes, his head tilting back at the warmth of your mouth. “C-couldn’t help it, need to cum again.”
You don’t complain, not that you can, as he chases his pleasure from you.
Someone takes your hand, wrapping it around their cock for them to fuck into your fist—Keeho, you think, but everything is too blurry now to tell as the four men use your body, fucking you and your mind to tatters practically.
You start to convulse under the onslaught of sensation, the coil in your gut winding tighter and tighter.
It’s impossible to stop it now, you don’t have a tethered bone in your body to stop it from happening.
You try to warn them, but it’s a fruitless attempt.
Your orgasm barrels through you violently, snapping through your body like lightning as you jerk through it, wailing around Intak’s cock.
It starts a chain effect, Shota spilling into you with a yell as your cunt flutters around him, Jongseob following soon after with how tightly you tense around him. Your hand and forearm grows damp with Keeho finishing himself in your loose fist, and Intak pulls out of your mouth just to paint your face.
You’re floating somewhere between heaven and earth, body trembling with incessant tremors, mind vacant from anything but the pure bliss.
Until the dread settles heavily over you.
Jiung immediately stands to action when he hears the first sob escape you.
He pushes his way through the bodies, practically knocking Intak to the ground and shoving Keeho aside, urging Jongseob off of you.
He kneels beside you at the second sob, pushing his hand into your hair. But you turn your face away, burying it in Shota’s shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, his heart climbing up his throat. Were they too rough? Did they hurt you? Fuck, he told them to be more thorough with their prep but—
“I failed,” he hears your tiny voice mumble, and his heart effectively crumbles.
That’s why you’re upset?
Jiung lets out a breath, nudging Shota. Shota gets the hint, gently rolling your body down as he slips out of you with the hiss, moving aside to give Jiung way.
But even as Jiung tries to pull you closer to him, you bury yourself further into the cushions.
“Are you hiding from me?” You hear him ask, and even through the haze you can hear the pout in his voice.
“I’m sorry,” you hiccup, trying to hold in your sniffles but it’s almost like you don’t have control anymore over your body with it being too spent. He slides his hand under your head, forcing you to face him but you squeeze your eyes shut, turning your face into his palm. You couldn’t meet his gaze. “I-I tried, I really did b-but it was too hard, and I couldn’t—“
Your words die when Jiung seals his lips over yours, softly kissing away your woes in an uncharacteristic show of affection.
“You did so good,” he whispers into your lips, pulling back to rest his forehead against yours. “Don’t apologize.”
His heart swells at your wide, glittery eyes looking up at him in awe. “Y-You’re not gonna… p-punish me?” You manage to ask through your little hiccups.
If he were Taeyang he would. But he doesn’t have what it takes.
“No,” he answers, ignoring Taeyang’s little ‘weak’ from behind him. He’ll deal with him later. He stands up, gathering you in his arms. “Come on, let me get you cleaned up.”
“Hey,” Intak pipes up with a whine, sitting up on the ground. “Why do you get to take care of her?”
Keeho snickers from the other couch. “Yeah, Ung, you’re so selfish.”
Jiung merely kicks Jongseob, who yelps ‘I didn’t say anything!’ on the way to your room, telling them over his shoulder to, “Make her food.”
You stay curled in Jiung’s arm as he carries you to your bed, setting you gently onto it.
He stands to get a towel from your bathroom, coming back to see you watching him intently where you’re splayed. He has to keep himself from ogling your naked body, clearing his throat as he sits on the edge beside you to gently run the towel over your face, working his way down the mess.
“Jiung,” you say quietly.
The sound fills him with warmth. He still doesn’t meet your eye. “Hm?”
“You’re still hard.”
His face burns, and he averts his gaze as he runs the towel between your thighs, whispering a quick apology as he brushes against your sensitive core.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, willing his voice not to crack.
But then you wrap your hand around his wrist, tugging him down to your body. He goes down, watching you closely as you lift your weak body.
His back hits the mattress, the warmth of your body engulfing his as you climb on top of him. He's about to protest again and tell you that you don’t have to, until you align your hips and grind down against his hard on.
He cuts off with a whine, reminded of the arousal festered in his gut from watching the others take you apart.
A full body shudder runs through him. You relish in the way his eyes roll back at the simple sensation.
And then you’re on your back, Jiung climbing on top of you. He tugs off his shirt, but you don’t get the chance to admire his adorned skin before he’s devouring you in a deep kiss.
You make a questioning sound as he slots himself between your legs, but he just shoves himself free of his clothes then presses the head of his cock through your folds, making you gasp.
“Let me take care of you?” He asks, begs almost, as he teases at your messy hole, his free hand braced on your hip.
You don’t have the mind to speak. So you just nod.
Jiung seats his cock into you with one push, his body shuddering at finally feeling you around him. And it’s so enticing that he just can’t hold back.
He wants to be gentle, wants to coax you to a sweeter release—but he can’t.
He pounds into you desperately, shoving himself as deep as he can go with each frantic thrust, quickly going dumb in your pussy.
His arms wrap around your waist to hold you in place as he splits you open, the rough slap of hips and loud squelch of your messy folds the only sounds besides both your ragged breathing. He buries his face in your shoulder, unable to hold back his whimpers.
“You feel so—“ He whines, breaking apart with a deep groan when you clench around him, his hips stuttering.
A moan breaks through your chest when he rolls in deep, just rutting against you desperately. Your arms around him aren’t enough to hold on, he thrashes your body in his arms with each buck of his hips.
“Jiung,” you whimper, pulsing around him when he pulls out just to fuck his tip into you, teasing you in a way that melts your brain. “Ji, please, m’gonna c-cum, can I…”
He slams into you, his cock twitching inside of you before he pulls out just to slam back in, punching yells out of you each time.
“Cum for me,” he breathes into your ear, then hooks his hands under your knees, folding them at your sides as he pounds into you, thrusting squarely into that gummy spot inside of you over and over. “C-Cum for me… just for me.”
This one doesn’t feel like the last one—when you cum, you break.
Your vision whites out, your entire body going taut as your arousal sprays out of you, drenching Jiung and the bed.
It only spurs Jiung on—he fucks you faster as he barrels through his own orgasm, muffling his cry into your shoulder as he pistons in deep and shoots into you.
When Jiung comes back to his senses, it’s with his head on your chest and Taeyang standing over him with a bowl of ramen in his hand and a disapproving frown on his lips.
“Taking care of her, huh?” He tsk’s, placing the bowl on the bedside table.
Jiung just groans, turning to bury his face in your skin. “Fuck off.”
“Careful, don’t wake her.”
Jiung lifts his head to see your eyes closed, your lips parted as small puffs of breaths pass through. He pushes back the damp hair at your head, a soft smile tugging up at the peaceful sight.
Taeyang snorts at the spectacle. Though he doesn’t quite blame it on Jiung for the dumbstruck look in his eye.
But he needs to get to work.
“Okay, be cooperative,” he says, and doesn’t allow Jiung to question before he rounds the bed to the other side and reaches forward to wrap his arms around both you and Jiung, tugging you to the cleaner area of the bed.
Jiung bristles, opening his mouth to yell at him but quickly snaps shut when you start to stir.
They both pause with bated breath, sighing when you lull off again with a breath, and Taeyang gets to work. He manages to pull the dirty sheets out from under your and Jiung’s tangled bodies and get fresh ones on. He wipes you clean after, tossing Jiung a towel of his own, but when he sees Jiung just blinking slowly up at the ceiling, unresponsive, he sighs and wipes him clean himself.
By the end of it, Jiung is tangled with you again and half asleep.
Taeyang is hesitant to leave, riddled with the urge to climb into the bed and gather you both in his arms (or maybe push Jiung off). But before he can make a sound decision, the door barges open.
Taeyang hisses viciously towards the door just as Intak opens his fat mouth to yell something stupid surely, his arms suspended above his head where he’s holding up a can of Arizona.
His expression quickly morphs into apologetic when he sees what he’d nearly disrupted—but instead of turning around and leaving, he just pads in and makes his own space at the foot of the bed.
Naturally, Shota and Jongseob follow him in and take the corner edges of the bed flanking Intak.
Taeyang sighs, half considering beating them out with his shoe. He’s still not used to having to share you.
But he watches as Intak immediately picks a fight with Jiung instead (effectively waking him up) about letting him cuddle you but Jiung only tightens his hold on you.
“You’re clingy after sex,” Taeyang says with a snicker.
Jiung’s eyes snap up to him, sharp and eerily fox-like. “So? At least I’m not one note like you,” he grumbles, making sure to keep his voice low as he nuzzles into your shoulder again.
“One note?” Taeyang muses as he sidles into your other side. “Which note is that?”
“Rude.”
It’s not Jiung that answers.
Keeho finds his way into the room with an armful of gatorade bottles, making his way over to the people pile on the bed to hand them out.
“It felt great seeing Jiung put you in your place,” Keeho says as he climbs on behind Jiung, wrapping his arms around him.
Jiung makes a sound of protest mid sip, trying to shake the other man off but Keeho just snuggles in harder.
“Maybe I should reward you for that,” Keeho adds lecherously, giggling when Jiung glares at him. But Taeyang doesn’t miss the blush tinging Jiung’s cheeks.
“Okay,” Intak starts, lifting his head. “If you three are gonna fuck can you just hand her over to us so—” He cuts off with a loud squawk as Taeyang chops him over the bed.
The sound wakes you, and you stir with huffs and grumbles. Jiung winces when your elbows start flailing out.
“You guys are so loud,” you grit, turning to bury your face into Jiung’s chest, like you’re trying to carve your way in and use him to drown out the noise.
Somehow, after everything, Jiung starts to feel shy at the display. And it only makes Keeho more annoying, who coos and pinches at Jiung’s reddening cheek.
Jiung doesn’t react, hoping he’ll bore himself out.
Intak pouts, still rubbing his head. “It wasn’t my fault, Taeyang hit me!”
Taeyang narrows his eyes at him. “How childish are you?”
Intak whacks his shin. “You’re childish.”
Taeyang sends him a kick, and Intak’s about to hit him again, until you groan.
“God!” You snap, huffing and lifting your head to glare. “If you’re not here to sleep, leave.”
Intak immediately settles, mumbling a quiet apology as he attaches himself to your leg.
But Taeyang, ever the contrarian, gets up to leave. “Whatever you want, princess.”
Nobody protests. By the time he reaches the door, still nobody protests. It ticks him off, making him turn to glare.
But then he sees you, a peaceful look on your face as you drift back off in Jiung’s arms, the others wrapped around you protectively in various contorted states. Intak had immediately taken Taeyang’s vacant spot to plaster himself to your back.
Something about the sight tugs at his heart, pulling him back.
“Fine,” he sighs dramatically, padding back towards the bed. “I’ll stay.”
He doesn’t miss the small smile that tugs on your lips as he climbs over the bodies to settle on top of you, wedging himself between you and Intak despite Intak’s quiet cry.
“Simp,” Keeho whispers from behind Jiung.
“Mhm,” Taeyang hums in agreement, shutting his eyes. “Aren’t we all.”
taglist: @jellyybelly, @jseobbie, @tintedsvn, @fixonfreak, @stxrxyyz, @hxraiiii, @peachy-x-k33n, @choxochip, @ozzysoatsolivesandpasta, @boptak, @kittyshotak, @oyasumiaikko, @straystar-8, @meow4seonghwa, @evemds, @willowedjelly, @velvetjoong, @seonghwaswifeuuuu, @delicatechris, @orchidves, @lycxee, @girlcrushd, @halaziasupremacy, @chandlxa, @soulssnucky, @snyngjhn, @jiungs-wednesdaygirl, @kyoluvrs, @princessthelsa, @nichozzystuffs, @mo8ny4951, @rockstartaeyang, @shmooooo, @cherryyberry1 @keymeadoww @p1issocool @tikfreakingtak @nota10butadefinite8 @snuckyyyy @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @kha0sblossom @sstrawbxrry @momochips @mydearandy @seomisaho @fairylix @ericlvr @kisseobies @saranghoeforanton
𓆩⟡𓆪 check out my masterlist for my other works
1 reblog/comment = 1 virtual kiss <3
© jiuchip
sorry guys got a little rough with him last night
(he was asking for it tho)
I JUST FEAKING MADE A FRN ONLINE.. BY MYSELF BRO IM LITERALLY SO FRWAKING EXTROVERTED. (Get the fuck out I'm not, it was all by luck and how extroverted the other person was and I'm so thankful because their genuinely such a nice and funny person)
First day after my job... Gang my money counting skills needa be better 😔 BUTTT IM WORKING FOR ALBUM, FOOD, CONCERT MONEY SO I CANT COMPLAIN.. I WILL GET BETTER EVERYTHING WILL BE ALRIGHT 🧿🧿🧿💲💲💲🍀🍀🍀🤑🤑🤑
My motivation ^
I GOT THE TICKET!!! IM GOING TO SEE CORTIS ON 9 OCTOBER AHHHHHHDKLSNSOENS IM SOOOO FREAKING EXCITED HOLY SHIT I'm going alone tho so hopefully I can make some frns there or maybe HERE then we can go together 😝😝 I CANT BELIEVE MY MOM ACTUALLY GOT THE TICKETS FOR ME
PUPPY PRINCESS › › S。JAEYUN
〔 𝒾 〕 ────── jake agrees to watch heeseung's puppy hybrid while he's away.
❪ 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐘 ❫ ╱ 심재윤 x 𝑓!reader ────── 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 ᪥ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 𓄵 𝓉w. non idol au puppy hybrid!reader heat cycles piv unprotected sex consensual cheating creampies mentions of threesomes breeding kink dirty talk dry humping pet names (baby/babygirl, princess, pup) daddy kink doggy style doms!jake and hee manhandling
〔 밤비 〕 » one of the nastier things i've written. completely self indulgent. gotta go and repent now.
͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ FEEDBACK ╱ REBLOGS APPRECIATED!
Jake has never considered himself a disciplined man. Intelligent? Yes. Cunning? On his good days. But he’d be the first to admit just how weak his willpower was; he’s met toddlers with a stronger grip on their self control.
This has never particularly bothered him. Except, of course, for right now.
“Fuck, Seung, what do I do?!” he whispers urgently into his phone, trying his hardest to disappear entirely into the couch. His leg bounces nervously, free hand white-knuckling the armrest as if it were the only thing keeping him upright— and with how you were clambering on top of him, it might as well be.
“Yunnie, just once, please? I promise I’ll be a good girl!” you whine into the hollow of his sweaty neck, your nails scratching desperately at his soccer jersey. The soft, twitching puppy ears that peek through your hair tickles his tan skin.
“Holy shit, is that her?” Heeseung’s voice crackles over the receiver, sounding more amused than anything. “Aww, she sounds so desperate. I’ve never heard her sound like that before.”
“Hyung.” Jake grits his teeth. “I’m being serious. You gotta come back, I don’t know what to do! I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to dogsit, I told you I don’t know a damn thing about hybrids!”
“Are you sure she’s in heat?” was Heeseung’s tinny reply. “Sometimes she just gets needy.”
“Are you being serious!? She’s dripping all over my fucking lap.”
It was a sight that Jake was sure would haunt him for the rest of his life. Those tight, flimsy little shorts you were wearing did nothing to stop the outpour of slick dribbling down your thighs, soaking through your clothes to the point they’ve molded themselves against your ass and pussy. He could see every curve of your pudgy pussy lips, cunt swollen and hot as you grind down desperately against his thigh, rubbing your engorged clit against the rough fabric of his jeans and leaving a large wet spot in the denim. It was obscene, like all the porn in his browser history came to life right in front of him, his most embarrassing dirty fantasy from the recesses of his imagination. Jake could feel his sanity chipping away bit by agonizing bit, his self control dwindling every second he sits here like an idiot watching you defile him. He focuses everything he has on willing his erection away but it does nothing, his cock growing so stiff in his jeans that it was starting to get painful, his throbbing crown straining against his fly like it would burst right through. From the delighted, fucked out look on your face, he could tell that you could feel it too.
But you were Heeseung’s hybrid, no matter how hard Jake’s dick got. He couldn’t give in and let you have it, even if that’s what the both of you wanted. It didn’t matter that he was the one you were begging for, you weren’t in your right mind— this was Heeseung’s job, not his. Jake’s fingers shook from the effort it took not to grip himself through his pants.
God, but what he would do to you if you were his. You’d never have to beg and whine for attention ever again, Jake would give you all of his. He’d keep you happy and satiated, with your pussy stuffed full just like you want. You’d never be empty.
“A bad storm’s blown through the city; there’s no way I’ll be able to make it back home tonight.” Heeseung sighs, snapping Jake’s wandering attention to the problem at hand. “Besides, I can’t miss this conference. I’m sorry, man, but my whole job depends on this stupid presentation for the CEO.”
“Jakey…” you mewl into Jake’s neck, your breath hot and humid against his skin. Honeyed yearning drips from your tongue, your whimpers and moans sugary sweet and tugging deliciously at Jake’s belly. Prettier and more erotic than any pornstar he’s ever watched. He can’t tear his eyes away from your needy cunt and its hypnotic movements against him, now positioned above him so that the outline of his hard shaft slides through the valley of your folds perfectly. You bump your clit against his cockhead, pussy getting wetter and wetter through your ruined shorts. “Jakey, it hurts so bad! Feels so empty… want your cock, wanna be bred, please!”
“Holy shit, she sounds so slutty…” Heeseung purrs wistfully, just as distracted by you as Jake was. “My poor baby girl, I feel so bad I’m not there to help her. Are you on speaker? Can she hear me?”
“She can now.” Jake presses the button and holds the phone up towards you. Your ears perk up at the sound of his voice, just the tiniest bit of clarity shining through your hazy eyes.
“Daddy?” you call out tentatively. You sound far too cute for the state you were in.
“Hi princess!” Heeseung gushes, sounding so unlike himself that Jake nearly laughs. “How are you feeling?”
“Need you, Daddy,” you sniffle in reply. “Come home and make the pain go away!”
“Aw, it hurts? Yeah? Your belly feels all empty, doesn’t it?” he coos patronizingly, almost as if he was mocking you.
You either don’t notice or don’t care; you sob and hiccup in pitiful agreement, tugging at Jake’s jersey like a lifeline. Jake wants to comfort you, rub circles soothingly into your skin, but he’s afraid he’ll do a lot more than just touch.
“I wish I could, pup, but you know I can’t,” Heeseung continues, somehow much less affected by your crying than Jake is. “Can’t you be a big girl for me and hold on until tomorrow? I’ll come home as soon as I can, I promise.”
“Yunnie won’t help me!” you cry out, pouting at Jake’s phone like Heeseung could see you.
“I heard,” Heeseung laughs. “Jake, why aren’t you taking care of my baby? That’s what I’m paying you for.”
Jake blushes and splutters, shamefully unable to force himself to stop you when you paw at the twitching bulge in his jeans, your eyes watery with tears and looking up at him so wantonly. It was difficult to focus on anything other than your pretty face. “Wh— But I— Wait—“
“She’s asking you very nicely.” Heeseung points out unhelpfully. What a dick. “Using her words like I taught her to. Do you not want to?”
“I— I mean, yes, I do— but. Um.” the sensation of your wet hot tongue lazily swiping across Jake’s jawline makes his entire body jolt, his erection twitching against your squeezing hand. He fights down a moan and chokes on it, instead squeaking oddly into the receiver. “S-She’s your hybrid, hyung. You would be better for her anyway, are you sure you don’t want to just wait until you get back..?”
"I'm right here telling you that it's okay, aren't I? Take care of her for me, I'll be back by the morning."
Jake's never felt this dirty in his life. Your tail wags against his abs as he pounds you over the armrest, his hand in your hair keeping your head shoved into the couch cushions. Your floppy ears bounce along with your tits in tandem to his thrusts inside of you, plump asscheeks smacking loud and wet against his sharp hipbones. There's so much slick and cum between the two of you that it drips down onto the floor, forming a milky puddle at your feet. His other hand grips tightly on the meat of your thigh, bending your leg up and around his waist to get his cock as deep as possible into your tight, gushing little pussy. Your sopping wet shorts and panties hang uselessly from your ankle.
“You like it like this, huh?” Jake crows, his words rough and choppy with exertion. “Ass up, face down like an animal? Letting your owner's friend fuck you like a breeding bitch?"
“Yesyesyes!” you wail in delight, your moans and cries muffled against the cushion. “Breed me, breed me! Wan’ your cum, Jakey, please!”
Jake's eyes roll back in pleasure and he curses under his breath. “Fuck, you want me to cum inside you? Fill this pussy up? You’re so fucking tight, shit, sucking me in so good… taking cock's all your good for, isn't it?”
His fat cockhead gives your cervix sweet, painful kisses, making you squeal and shake. The gummy walls of your pussy squeeze and pulsate around him, letting out nasty squelches as he thrusts into you fast and hard. He's barely been inside you, yet Jake is already embarrassingly close to cumming, your cunt so warm and wet and just begging for him to shoot his load deep inside.
You manage to turn your head to the side despite the pressure of his hand, and Jake can see that both your face and the couch is soaking wet. You’re crying and drooling, pink tongue stuck out as you pant and moan.
“You’re gonna make me cum!” you shriek, eyes dark and blown wide as you peek back at him. “I’m gonna cum! It feels so good, don’t stop, don't stop! Cum with me, cum in me, pleasepleaseplease? Fill my belly up with your babies, and then we can do it again, and again, and again... and daddy can join when he comes home! Doesn't that sound good, Jakey?”
Weather so fucking hot I'm genuinely so pissed off. Bro there is eczema on my ass cheeks
I'm so obsessed with his hands
ⵌ XO, EX HOE ! ft. fratkuna
AITA FOR SABOTAGING MY EX-GF’S NEW RELATIONSHIP ?
18+. sum 𓏲 you and fratkuna are the kind of couple who break up & make up every other week. but when you swear you’re done with him and go off to date his rival, the new football team captain, can his frat brothers help him get you back ?
cast: nerdjo (‘toru’ gojo) + frat! jjk men (‘sigma chi’) : fratjo (‘sato’ gojo) ◞ geto ◞ toji ◞ sukuna ◞ nanami 𓏲 gallery here !
EX-BOYFRIEND TACTICS #1: GET YOUR GIRL BACK !
taught by: toru gojo
‘sabotaging your ex girlfriend’s new relationship to get her back? this can’t be a good idea.’
ΣΧ “‘high value woman’ but your new man’s a misogynist?!”
ryomen sukuna’s time of irritation is approximately 9:17 PM.
toru gojo’s bedroom floor is velvet carpet with half-empty beer bottles rotting on the rug. his center table is littered with poker cards & sato’s candy wrappers, and geto suguru & sato gojo are avoiding eye contact so they don’t burst out in laughter as sukuna glares daggers at toru’s screen.
toru’s hands shake under sukuna’s glare but he holds the phone steady. the instagram post on screen is a slap to sukuna’s face.
HOT NEW CAMPUS COUPLE : FOOTBALL CAPTAIN NAOYA ZENIN & Y/N L/N !
and the photo is you. swollen lips & pretty gaze & a dress so short it makes sukuna’s jaw ache—but not as much as naoya’s arm around you does. beside you toji’s cousin naoya zenin is there, grin cocky, eyes glinting in the camera light and arm around your waist because his fugly ass doesn’t know you like to be held around the hips instead. sukuna’s jaw ticks.
“i’m gonna get her back.”
sato, suguru and toru all glance towards each other. they know what that voice means. there’s no talking him out of it.
but toru lowers his phone, tries regardless. “are you sure? y/n’s always been strong headed. she might hate you even more if—“
sukuna grabs his crotch aggressively. “keep talking and i’ll jizz on your face.”
toru squeaks. sukuna continues. “i know my own girl. know she’s a fucking brat, doing this shit to get on my nerves,” he growls. “she’s bored. testing me. probably doing this shit to see if i’ll show up at practice ‘n break his jaw for touching her.”
suguru is biting back a grin. “calling her your girl when she broke up with you last week? and the week before that?”
sukuna takes a swig of his beer but his jaw is ticking behind the can. “exactly. she knows where home is.”
sato’s grin is clumsy. “i dunno, man. seems like she’s got a new address,” he elbows suguru’s side. “naoya’s pants, wellesley street east.”
“M-4-Y, 1-H-5,” suguru snickers.
“glad you two have the energy to joke,” sukuna sets down his beer with a thud. “means you’ll have energy to help me out tomorrow night.
tomorrow? tomorrow can only mean one thing.
naoya zenin’s one million snap score party. and also, the party that the college football team throws every year before the start of a new season. the party that sukuna hasn’t been to since he quit the role of captain. the party where sukuna first found you drunk & dizzy in an alley just out back, perfume strong & heels clicky, stumbling into his chest with a clumsy grin & flushed cheeks as he held your hips against him to keep you from falling. you reeked of vodka & you kept slurring his name & ryomen sukuna thought you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.
and now his pretty thing is somewhere curled into naoya’s side, and the thought makes sukuna’s throat itch.
suguru cocks his head. “so i’m guessing you have a plan?”
sukuna chugs his beer. “you know the plan.”
they do—they all do. sato is already grinning. suguru is shaking his head. toru is watching the fratboys with worried eyes.
sato, suguru and sukuna’s lips curl.
the plan?
sabotage.
# SHOW TIME !
at naoya zenin’s one million snapscore party, the air is heavy with the smell of drunken bodies / athlete sweat / something alcoholic dripping off a countertop. geto’s piercings glimmer in the evening dim. ryomen sukuna has his jaw tight. and sato gojo is already drunk and somewhere dancing, legworking with ease as rema’s azaman blares through the speakers.
sukuna and suguru are still scanning the scene when naoya saunters up to them.
naoya zenin is badly dyed hair, bright green eyes and a cocky lilt to his shoulders. he’s got the team’s varsity jacket around him—GO PANDAS!—and a grin too cruel to be kind. he raises his hands in faux welcome.
“suguru, sukuna,” naoya smiles. “didn’t think you’d make it.”
sukuna eyes him. “congratulations on your snapscore.”
“and my new position as captain,” naoya bites so hard his teeth show. “how’s retirement treating you, ryomen? enjoying life off the pitch?”
suguru slings an arm around sukuna, quick to come to his defence. “he’s doing great, thank you. how about you, captain? have you found confidence in your buck teeth?”
naoya’s smile dissolves.
“nice engagement bait,” naoya recovers. he’s grinning again but his lips only stretch, teeth hidden. “you always did bite like a bitch, suguru.”
“i try.”
“enjoy the booze,” naoya lets out a jagged breath, turning away. “try not to cry in your cups too much.”
sukuna has his arms crossed over his chest, suguru’s arm still slung around him. but he’s not watching naoya walk away. his eyes have drifted to you.
you across the party and perched on a seat at the bar, a glass of something pink in your hands and a dress so short he can trace the swell of your ass. and you’re laughing—oh god, you’re laughing, tucking hair behind your ear with flushed cheeks and a carefree smile. sukuna’s mouth dries. god, you’re so pretty. you’re always so pretty, and sukuna wants to tell you that; wants to curl up beside you and wipe away the red dribbling down your chin and maybe tug your dress down over your ass. you’d swat at him and tell him he’s ruining your outfit. and then you’d kiss him because you like when he gets territorial anyways.
you laugh again, and ryomen sukuna is already moving.
that is, until naoya curls up behind you.
sukuna stops in his tracks. naoya snakes an arm around your waist from behind—your waist again, not your hips, fucking idiot—and sukuna’s jaw goes slack. he watches naoya press his parched, un-vaselined lips to your shoulder blades, and he doesn’t miss the slight tense of your shoulders before you ease into his chest.
sukuna’s jaw ticks. “suguru.”
“hm?”
“get sato. it’s time.”
suguru grins. “yes, boss.”
suguru disappears into the crowd. sukuna’s eyes shift back to you, back to naoya, back to the way his hands slide up your side and the way he whispers something in your ear. you laugh again and sukuna’s jaw twitches, because the sound itself comes out strained.
you’re uncomfortable. and he’d be a fool to miss it.
suguru reappears with sato in tow.
sato is drunk. swaying. red-bruised lips & booze in his breath. his cheeks are flushed pink & his hair sweat-sticky and he’s slung over suguru’s back like his life depends on it. he nuzzles into suguru’s neck. “mmh—you called?”
sukuna’s eyes are still on you. he nods towards the bar, “you see naoya?”
sato squints. “so ugly,”
“he’s got his hands on my girl.”
sato frowns. “that won’t do.”
“yeah,” sukuna murmurs, lifting a cup of punch off a passing tray. suguru is wiping rum off sato’s lip. sukuna passes the cup to sato. “you remember the plan?”
sato gives a drunken nod. and then he’s off.
the plan is simple: red punch, ugly naoya, combination. sato gojo is supposed to be a ninja, an image of stealth and diligence. instead he’s a wobbly drunken mess, giggling boyishly as he stumbles towards the bar.
he’s so close, sukuna’s eyes narrow. just a few more steps and then naoya will be drenched—
but sato trips. and as he falls, he pulls naoya’s pants down with him.
the situation is a whole mess.
punch everywhere. sticky on naoya’s shocked face, on sato’s fallen figure, on the party’s hardwood floor. and everyone is watching—staring—at naoya zenin covered in punch, pants on the floor. those boxers—is that undertale?
naoya’s face is blood drenched. “you drunken fucking idiot—”
“m’sorry,” sato cries, face down, hands still gripping naoya’s pants. “was tryna—hic—spill the punch, hnghh—suguru—“
“get the fuck off me!” naoya kicks at him, pants rippling around his ankles. someone is pulling out their phone to record. another is already recording. everyone’s laughing, including you, and even ryomen sukuna is struggling to bite back the chuckle on his lips.
naoya scrambles out of the party, shuffling out in his sans undertale boxers with his pants around his feet. suguru has already made his way to sato’s side.
sato’s eyes are teary, and his forehead is bruised red from naoya’s kick. suguru cups his face, brows knit. “hey man. you alright?”
sato groans. “i spilled the punch and the pants.”
“mhm,” geto snorts, smushing sato’s cheeks between his palms. “good job, buddy.”
“i did good?”
“so good,” geto smiles down at him. “come on, up you go.”
suguru helps sato up to his feet. sukuna is already moving.
towards you, you at the bar with your palm over your mouth to muffle your laugh as you watch naoya flee into the night. sukuna steps into your space. your eyes are still on the door before you slowly, slowly, turn your head around to him.
your pupils are blown. cheeks flushed and chest heaving from the alcohol, and your eyes focus for a minute before you grin.
“aww, look,” you beam. “if it isn’t my ex-boyfriend.”
sukuna shouldn’t take advantage.
he knows if you were sober, it’d be a different story. he knows you’d kick and hit at him, maybe snarl about his audacity to show his face around you. but you’re too many drinks too deep and as drunk and dizzy as the day he met you in that alleyway, so instead of kicking at him you lean forward to cup his cheeks.
sukuna tilts his head to kiss your palm. “Hi, baby. you’re drunk.”
“noo,” you slur. “i’m tipsy.”
“mhm,” sukuna grunts, stepping forward to slide his arms around your hips before you can lean off the chair. he tugs your dress down over your ass, then strokes your thigh. “third glass?”
“so close!” you squeeze his neck happily. “i’m on my sixth.”
sukuna hugs you back. but his face is scowling.
naoya zenin—that fucking idiot. sukuna knows your limit is four. he knows that any more than that and you’ll be sick for days, groggy and weak and unable to get out of bed. he squeezes your hips. “s’too much, sweetheart.”
“i know,” you pout into his neck. “i couldn’t resist.”
oh, his poor girl. sukuna kisses your hair. just once—just because he missed the warmth of your skin—but then he does it again and again and you giggle into his chest. fuck. he’s missed the sound bad.
“i’m sorry.”
sukuna’s heart stops. “what?”
“for going past my limit.”
sukuna can feel you pouting in his neck. he sighs, because of course that’s what you meant. not that you were sorry for leaving him or whatever his delusions had him hearing in that moment. after all, he should be the one apologizing anyway. right?
“you’re okay,” he hugs you closer, pressing your head into his chest. god, you’re gonna be so sick tomorrow; and the day after, and the day after. “i’m not mad, pretty. don’t apologize.”
you nod against him. “are you gonna take care of me?”
sukuna wishes drunk you didn’t talk so much.
because it hurts to have to say no, no but i want to, no but i would if i knew you wouldn’t hate me for it when you’re sober, so he doesn’t say it at all. instead he traces circles on your hips. “gimme your phone.”
you rest your chin on his chest and beam up at him drunkenly instead.
sukuna lets out a sigh, shifting just enough to reach for your purse without jerking you off his chest. he slips your phone into his palm and tries for the passcode. it unlocks in one go. the passcode is still his birthday, and sukuna sighs again.
“i’m gonna call shoko,” he murmurs into your ear. “she’ll take care of you, yeah?”
he could take care of you too, you know. if you’d let him. but you wouldn’t, so he bites his lip.
“shoko?” you coo into his neck. “i love shoko.”
“i know,” sukuna squeezes your thigh. “i know you do.”
TORU’S REMARK: I HAVE A BAD FEELING ABOUT THIS…
EX-BOYFRIEND TACTICS #2: GO BIG OR GO HOME !
taught by: geto suguru
“like the great oikawa tooru said, if you’re gonna hit it? hit it until it breaks.”
ΣΧ
ryomen sukuna is itch itch itching.
itching to know if you’re okay. itching to know if shoko—or, ugh, naoya—let you have those crackers you like to help you settle your stomach, kept your room slightly warm, and for christ’s sake, kept you away from the advil. you love to reach for them after a night of drinking. sukuna knows it only makes your headaches worse.
you haven’t posted on instagram in days.
not that he should know since you have him blocked. but luckily your account is public and sato’s allowed him to log in on his fake instagram hair page. SlayedBySato. hit them up on IG.
sukuna is lying on the couch, nose buried in a cushion. he watches your highlights with bleary eyes. in the one he’s viewing, you’re in a tight black dress, red and blue hues lighting up your face. you’re dancing the night away, cheeks flushed, lashes fluttering. his pretty party girl. god.
“look at my girl,” he mumbles into the pillow. “so fucking hot. i’ll slap the shit out of naoya zenin.”
geto laughs. “shouldn’t have let her get away, then.”
on the floor, sato has his head in suguru’s lap, pouting as geto presses an iced cloth to his forehead. he flinches. “sugu, how much longer?”
“shh,” geto hisses, even though the swelling went down ages ago.
sukuna rolls so his body lays upright, setting his phone down on his chest. “it’s not enough.” he glares at the ceiling. “that stunt with his boxers? did nothing but make a bunch of people laugh.”
suguru and sato look at each other. geto’s voice goes low.
“what are you saying?”
“i’m saying he’s a fraud and i want everyone to fucking know it.” sukuna sits up, tossing his phone unto the coffee table. “he’s still captain of the football team. but i have a video that could change that.”
“the season’s first game, naoya’s first official game as captain…” sato thinks. “are you saying you wanna pull something?”
“i’m thinking of playing it in the locker room TV. make the other boys lose respect for him.”
sato and suguru look at each other again.
“boring.” sato says.
“huh?”
“toru has access to the AV booth,” a slow grin curls its way onto suguru’s lips. “would be a fucking shame if he and i were to mess with the feed on game day.”
sato sits up from suguru’s lap. “locker room TV? boring as fuck, man. the sukuna i know? he’d play whatever video he has in front of the whole fucking stadium.”
sukuna looks at his frat brothers. at their wicked grins and stupid pride and willingness to follow him to the ends of the earth. it’s foolish, honestly. going to such lengths to destroy naoya zenin because he dared to look twice at his girl. but he’s a stupid man, and his frat brothers are even stupider, and this is what the sigma-chi brotherhood is really about.
sukuna’s lip twitches. “i fucking love you guys.”
“we know,” suguru says. “and don’t ever say that shit again.”
# GAME DAY !
LET’S GO PANDAS !
the chanting in the stadium sounds more like a roar.
the air is electric—buzzing, vibrating. cheerleaders on the sidelines with cheeks smeared in blue & red paint. there’s the scent of hot dogs & fried food grilling. a crowd in jerseys with flags in their hands. in the kaisen campus stadium, the midsummer air is thick with anticipation. it’s game day.
sukuna sucks the air into his lungs. he hasn’t been to the stadium in a minute.
sato has run off to get some hot dogs. suguru and toru should already be in the AV room. the pitch has no football players but marching band members instead, drums and trombones blaring music across the grass. sukuna should go over to his and sato’s seats. instead he’s on the stairs, staring down at you.
is it fair for you to look this happy with him away from you?
he shakes the thought away. he always wants you to be happy—he thinks. but happiness with naoya? naoya zenin? he’s not quite sure about that. actually, he is. sukuna knows he’s fucking furious. he knows he doesn’t like the fact that you have naoya’s number on your back, or the fact that you’re jumping and cheering his name when the players haven’t even walked out yet. his jaw ticks. something ugly curls in his throat. he swallows it away.
he stares a little longer. watches your skirt swish around your thighs, watches your arms wave in the air, watches your hips sway to the music. you’ve clearly recovered and your dancing is out of tune as always, and sukuna bites back a smile.
he’s still smiling when you look up at him.
his face falls.
your head lifts towards him, and he doesn’t miss the way your body tenses. your arms drop to your sides. your palms curl into fists.
uh oh.
you look away, pausing for a moment. and then you trudge between bodies and make your way over to what sukuna can only assume is the concession stand.
sukuna follows. he doesn’t give himself time to think any better of it.
——
caramel popcorn and half-burnt sugar. the concession stand smells like caramel popcorn and half-burnt sugar.
and vanilla, but not the syrupy sweet kind. it’s the kind that sukuna smells whenever he kisses that spot below your ear, or presses his lips to the dip of your waist. at the concession stand, sukuna stands behind you with his hands in his pockets, pretending he doesn’t see the frown on your face as you stand in line in front of him.
“go away.” you deadpan.
“i’m here to eat.”
“You will choke on your food and die.”
harsh.
sukuna’s used to it though. so when it’s your turn to get a donut, he slips out his wallet and drops some cash before you can even protest. the stand worker takes the excess money with a grin. you turn to sukuna with a frown.
“what are you doing?”
your tone is mean but ryomen sukuna can’t take you seriously. your hair has ribbons tangled throughout it. you look so fucking cute.
he looks you in the eyes. “let me check your temperature. feeling feverish? at all?”
you only eye him in response. “stop caring about me.”
“can’t,” he mutters. “let me check it.”
he pads closer, and you’re still glaring daggers at him, but you don’t bite his palm as it cups your face. he pats the back of his hand against your neck, then your forehead, then your chest—and then his palm’s on your cheek again.
“you had six drinks that night,” he murmurs, thumb stroking your cheek. “was so worried. don’t like when you go over your limit.”
“i’m fine,” your voice is sharp—or trying to be. “don’t touch me.”
he shifts his hand into his pocket. “okay.” he says. “i’m gonna get you back.”
that sets you off. “i’m done with you, asshole!” you stab your finger into his chest. “i’m serious—no more on and off bullshit. i’ve moved on. i’m with naoya, for fuck’s sake. you just can’t accept that cuz of your stupid little ego!”
you’re still stabbing his chest. sukuna only watches you patiently, letting you yell to your heart’s content.
“and i hate you!” you tug his collar just to shove him away again. “i’m moving on. i’m happy now. so don’t try to act like you’re still my boyfriend!”
“sorry,” he trails off. he’s still watching you poke him with half-lidded eyes.
“i like your ribbons,” he murmurs. “you look pretty.”
“ugh!”
you storm off, and sukuna bites his cheek as your ribbons swing behind you. his hand finds the spot where you hit his chest and he sighs.
ryomen sukuna needs to get you back. and the sooner he does? the better.
———-
sato gojo has five bomboclat hotdogs in his lap.
how humongous! and worst of all, he refuses to share them with sukuna, who left his own food at the concession stand while his mind fixated on your face. you looked so pretty yelling at him. fuck. has he gone mad?
he shakes the thought away. he has his phone in his hands, facetime call with suguru on screen. toru gojo is setting up a monitor in the background with shaky hands. suguru has his phone at a poor angle and he’s humming into its mic with glee.
sato hooks his mustard-sticky chin over sukuna’s shoulder. “yo, sugu.” he says to the call.
“yo,”
“i have five hotdogs,” sato says humbly. “i’m saving a quarter for you.”
“love your generosity.”
“thank you, brother.”
sukuna shoves sato’s face away, ignoring the pout on his face as he rubs his still-bruised forehead. “suguru. how’s the prep going?”
“we’re all good here,” suguru says, turning the call camera to face toru and the set-up. “toru, you’re on video. say hi.”
“uh—hi!”
“hey, twin!” sato’s chin is back on sukuna’s shoulder. he frowns. “i didn’t save you any hotdogs.”
“that’s okay,” toru pushes up his glasses. “i don’t like hotdogs much anyways.”
suguru laughs behind the camera. “aww. i’ll get you a hotdog, buddy.”
“guys, focus.” sukuna pinches his nose. “the footage. is it ready?”
“yup,” suguru pops the p. just waiting for your signal.”
down on the pitch, the teams are lively.
the stadium is roaring. confetti everywhere, cheers and screams from fangirls and fanboys alike. the campus team jogs out in high spirits. and naoya zenin is there, golden boy of the season, arms in the air and waving like he’s the best thing since sliced bread. sukuna tries not to roll his eyes.
it’s a new season, and this one begins with a speech.
and who else to deliver it but the new captain, naoya? he has his helmet in his arm, grin wide, eyes gleaming. he stands on the podium with a mic to his mouth, and then he clears his throat.
his voice bellows. “GO PANDAS!”
the crowd roars. “go pandas!” sato cheers along. sukuna smacks his head.
“it is my honor, as the new captain of the football team, to welcome you all to the new season. kaisen university has suffered many losses. but this year, under my lead, i swear to you all—victory!”
the crowd roars again. sato is smart enough to not get caught up in the high spirits this time.
naoya raises a hand to calm the crowd. “but first off, i want to say a thank you to our alumni, sponsors, team—“
suguru turns the phone camera to himself, grinning. “i think this is the time?”
“your thinking is correct.”
“hit it, toru.”
toru fumbles with the control panel. he plugs in a mic, and suguru brings his mouth to the head.
“hey naoya,”
suguru’s voice crackles through the stadium speakers. the crowd stills. the football team on the grass is frozen in confusion.
“the alumni, sponsors, team you’re talking about,” you can hear the smile in suguru’s voice. “is it these ones?”
toru hits a button.
the big screen flickers.
the static shifts to a video. it’s one of those out of focus, wobbly snapchat ones, captioned ‘this guy’ with a bunch of laughing emojis. someone says something in the background. naoya scoffs.
“alumni? sponsors? they’re all a bunch of old has-beens with heart conditions,” he spits. “lousy fuckers with too much money. yet they can’t even buy us a trophy. idiots.”
but the video doesn’t end there. naoya is talking while he changes out of his uniform, focused on the locker in front of him. “and this shitty team,“ he bites. “dumb fuckers who would need help to wipe their asses. can’t follow instructions for shit. i see why sukuna fucking left.”
the video ends. all that’s left is the grey replay button on the screen. suguru shifts back away from the mic, holding his phone to his face. “holy shit,” he says into the facetime call. “we fucking did that.”
“yeah,” sukuna says. “we did.”
but he’s distracted. naoya is arguing with someone on field but sukuna doesn’t care to see what that’s about. instead his eyes are on you down near the pitch, your hands gripping the stands. he can’t tell if you’re confused, distraught, happy, sad. it’s fucking killing him. he needs to see your face.
sato climbs unto his chair. he cups his hands around his mouth. “GET HIM OFF THE FIELD!”
sukuna’s eyes widen in alarm, but others are already joining in. OFF-THE-FIELD! OFF-THE-FIELD! GET NA-O-YA OFF-THE-FIELD!”
on the pitch, naoya’s face flushes in embarrassment. “you sorry sacks of shit! do you fucking know who i am?!”
they’ll never know, because he never has the chance to tell. security guards are escorting him away before he even knows it.
sukuna’s eyes flit down the bleachers. back down to you. he finds you hopping at your seat, ribbons swishing as you chant along with the crowd.
OFF-THE-FIELD! OFF-THE-FIELD!
sukuna’s lip twitches. get him off the field.
———
“OFF-THE-FIELD! OFF-THE-FIELD!”
the chanting of the stadium is still buzzing in sukuna’s ears.
toru gojo left early, body aching with anxiety and in dire need of a nap. sukuna’s decided it’s about time to leave too—college football games aren’t really his thing anymore.
suguru and sato are geeking out over the whole thing behind him as sukuna trudges forward with his hands in his pockets. he’s half-smiling. he still can’t believe the whole scene had you chanting along and hopping eagerly in your seat. so cute. your ribbons were bouncing everywhere. so fucking cute.
“this is all your fault!”
sukuna knows that voice anywhere.
sato and suguru know it too. the smiles quickly leave their faces, brows knitting in alarm. the three quietly speed up towards the corridor, and the scene has sukuna seeing red.
“you dumb fucking whore,” naoya has you cornered against the wall. “all this shit because of you and your crazy, batshit boyfriend. ‘deal’ my fucking asshole. you see how they embarrassed me? because of you?”
sukuna’s already moving. but geto pulls him back. “listen.”
“you can’t pin this on me,” you try to keep your voice steady, but sukuna knows how your voice gets when you’re about to snap. naoya’s face is too close to yours for his liking. “you’re the one who said all that stupid shit. take some fucking responsibility.”
“responsibility?” naoya’s teeth curl. his breath is hot against your lip. “deal my fucking ass. this was your plan all along wasn’t it, stupid bitch? date me and get closer to me so you can sabotage me along with your boyfriend—”
“naoya,” your voice is dangerous. “i’m warning you, get back.”
“or what?” he spits in your face. “you’ll call your big bad boyfriend to save you? run to him like some stupid little whore—?”
you slap naoya silly.
and for a moment, sukuna’s shoulders un-tense. he’s been holding his breath the entire time, fingers curled into the wall, suguru’s hand on his chest stopping him from charging forward. but fuck, he’s proud. that’s his fucking girl. fuck. why’d he have to go and lose you?
but he can’t relax for long.
“you fucking bitch!”
naoya shoves you against the wall and you thud against it. sukuna doesn’t have to pry geto’s hand away—they’re already charging in.
naoya’s eyes widen as soon as he sees the trio. suguru swings. sato punches. but naoya dodges both, shoulder bumping into them as he slips between the two. he should be stopped by sukuna—but sukuna charges straight to your side, tugging you to his chest, breath heaving. naoya zenin escapes.
suguru and sato’s eyes flit towards the exit. their breathing is sharp, ragged. their eyes drift back to you in alarm. fuck. you’re more important.
sukuna hugs you to his chest, tight. his hand presses your head under his chin. he wants to pretend you’re not fucking shaking in his arms, but god you are, god—you are.
“you’re okay, baby,” he lies. your hand is fisting his collar like you want to pull him closer—or maybe push him away. “you’re okay. i’ve got you, you’re okay.”
you squeeze his collar. “ryo,” your voice is small, “don’t go after him.”
“i won’t baby, swear to god i won’t.”
but that’s just another lie. he presses your head further into his chest, palm heavy on your head. and then he mouths to suguru and sato:
GO. FUCKING. KILL HIM.
they don’t need to be told twice.
“ryo,” you whisper in his chest. “where are they going?”
“they’re giving us privacy,” he lies, and you’ll hate him for it tomorrow but he’ll settle for holding you today. he kisses your head. “are you hurt? hit your head? look at me.”
he can feel your lips jut out in his chest. “i’m fine.”
“i told you to look at me.”
you grumble, but oblige regardless. and god, sukuna’s heart aches. you have your chin on his chest, lashes tear rimmed, cheeks flushed and lips jut out in a stubborn pout. your eyes are glistening with wet. sukuna’s jaw aches.
naoya zenin has got to go to hell.
and he’ll send him there personally. he kisses your forehead, “gorgeous.” and then his thumbs wipe your lashes. “i’m gonna check if you’re concussed. do you have a headache?”
“this is so stupid,” you grumble. “i’m not concussed. and you know it.”
sukuna ignores you, cups your face in his palms. “what day of the week is it?”
“monday.” you grumble.
“gonna say some numbers, say them back to me in reverse,” he strokes your cheek. “four-two-four-two-five-six-four.”
you say them back perfectly. sukuna kisses your forehead. “good job baby,” he murmurs. “smart girl. does anything hurt?”
“no.”
“don’t lie to me.”
you rest the side of your face on his chest, pausing for a moment. then you raise a hand to grip his bicep. “my head hurts. just a little.”
“anything else?”
“i was scared,” you mutter, small. “i was so scared, ryo.”
naoya zenin has got to go to hell.
it’s the second time sukuna thinks that, but he shakes the thought away. he squeezes your hips. tilts your chin so you’re looking up at his face. your lashes are wet & your lips are wobbly & ryomen sukuna thinks you are grace.
“shh,” his thumb rubs your bottom lip. “you’re safe. you’re always safe with me.”
“i know,” your voice croaks as you nod.
“fuck, baby,” he murmurs as he leans down to kiss your eyelids, nose, cheek, forehead. he presses his lips to the corner of your mouth. and then he finds your lips, tongue licking your mouth before he kisses you deep and slow.
“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs between your lips. “m’gonna kill naoya.”
“noo,” you whine, tugging his collar. “i told you not to do that.”
sukuna kisses his teeth, stepping back so he can hoist you up into his arms. his hands dip beneath your thighs to haul you up, and now you’re peering down at him through those sad, wet lashes. he kisses the pout off your lips. squeezes your thighs with his big hands. opens his mouth to say—
“i knocked that sucker out the park!”
sato and geto saunter back into the corridor, grins wicked, steps light. their knuckles are bloody and their jaws are bruised and their smiles are so bright they’re practically gleaming.
you turn to look at them. sukuna grabs the back of your head and pushes you into his shoulder. you pout into his neck as he keeps his palm heavy on your head.
sato is shadowboxing. “right hook—left hook—“ he punches the air. “clean hit to the jaw. taught the bloody wanker a good fucking lesson.” he fakes a british accent.
suguru nods, hands in his pockets & smile smug. “it was a good punch.”
“right?!”
sukuna’s lip tugs. he clicks his tongue as sato fakes punches at suguru, suguru dodging them with lazy laughter. sukuna clears his throat. sato and suguru perk up.
“take her to the nurse,” his voice is low. “make sure she doesn’t have a concussion.”
suguru steps forward and sukuna gently moves you into his arms. you frown up at suguru. “i’m not concussed.”
geto only chuckles, shifting your thigh over his arm to lift you better. “i don’t think so either. but your boyfriend runs a strict program, doesn’t he?”
“ex-boyfriend,” you bite. “and he’s not stricter than me.” “never,” suguru smiles. “you’re the strictest.”
sukuna scoffs behind you. sato just says he likes your ribbons.
he watches the boys leave with you. sato bouncing beside geto, you still arguing in suguru’s arms. but then he thinks about naoya. thinks about how he called his girl a whore, how he had the guts to shove you against a wall instead of just taking your slap like a fucking man. his jaw locks.
his feet are already moving. but then he remembers. don’t go after him.
he’s already broken that promise, already sent sato and suguru to beat him bloody. and he trusts his frat brothers, trusts they didn’t go easy on him. but his knuckles ache. he wants to beat naoya down so fucking badly.
but he knows if he sees naoya now, it will only end in death. and sukuna won’t be the one in the deathbed.
sukuna slams his fist into the wall. “fuck!”
SUGURU’S REMARK: CHILLL. WE CONTROLLED THAT
EX-BOYFRIEND TACTICS #3: ON THE OFFENSE !
taught by: toji zenin
‘want your girl back? then get fucking serious. stop playing her damn games and show her who’s the man.’
ΣΧ
“i have to kill naoya zenin.”
on toji zenin’s bedroom floor, ryomen sukuna’s jaw is tight. his hands dig into his thighs and suguru sits beside him with worried eyes. toji zenin is on the edge of his bed, running a brush through a jet black lace front wig. his son, five-and-a-half year old megumi zenin, sits beside him with a beach blond color 613 bone-straight wig on his head.
megumi tugs his father’s sleeve, voice flat.
“daddy, i have a buss down.”
toji doesn’t look up from his mannequin. “looks great, kiddo.”
toji zenin is twenty-four, stubble on his chin and single-ish student dad. single-ish because megumi’s mother left him when he turned twenty-one, but now he’s engaged to a pretty rich lady who sukuna still can’t believe forgave him for his lies. whatever—that’s a story for another day. even though toji’s girl is rich, he still insists on picking up odd jobs here and there to support him and meg rather than relying on her money. he’s currently working as a wig influencer for ISEEHAIR®.
on sukuna’s right, suguru has his hair in twin braids—courtesy of megumi zenin—and the same kind of ribbons you wore on game day—courtesy of SlayedBySato. he pats sukuna’s shoulder. “hey man, it’s okay. she’s okay.”
“you don’t fucking know that,” sukuna spits. “you don’t know it that bastard is still around her. i should’ve fucking killed him. slammed his skull into the wall back in the stadium.”
megumi blinks, gaze flat. he tugs his father’s sleeve. “daddy, is uncle kuna okay?”
“he’s in love,” toji answers, reaching for the hot comb. “makes you stupid.”
megumi nods, blond wisps of hair sticking to his cheek. then he stares at uncle sukuna for a bit longer before sliding his chubby body off the bed. “i’m gonna lay my edges.”
megumi zenin pads away.
suguru smiles after him. but then his smile dissolves, and he shifts his gaze back to sukuna. sukuna’s jaw is still tight, eyes glaring daggers at toji’s bedroom floor, and suguru elbows his side. “relax, man. brooding’s not gonna fix anything.”
“suguru’s right,” toji grumbles. “sato and suguru already beat him down. that didn’t make you feel better, did it?”
sukuna squints.
“you want your girl back? stop playing her damn games,” toji continues. “show her she can’t just keep playing around. you’ve embarrassed naoya, sabotaged him. all you’ve done is play along with her bratty lil’ antics.”
megumi’s voice comes from the other room. “daddy, can you help me lay my edges?”
“in a minute, kid.” toji doesn’t look up from the mannequin. “you want your girl? beat her at her own fucking game.”
sukuna grits his teeth. suguru slings an arm around him, braids swinging. “there’s a party for the football team tonight,” he says. “pretty sure y/n will be there again.”
sukuna swallows. thinks about it. and then the door swings open.
in comes sato gojo with megumi zenin in his arms. the five year old has wig edges laid, hair on fleek, and there is no doubt he’s been SlayedBySato.
sato’s grin is clumsy.
“did someone say party?”
# SHOW TIME !
at the party, the bass is so loud the speakers are moving.
not a lot—just a little—but the sound is so loud that sato is pouting as suguru helps him cover his ears. geto yells at some footballer to turn the music down. it takes them too long to comply.
sukuna is on a couch trying to ignore the babe curling herself into his side.
pamela? no—pairin. hair dyed mauve & flushed pink cheeks & a pretty nice rack—not that sukuna is looking. well he did look, he’s just a man and she’s got some pretty nice tits, but it’s okay. he still thinks yours are perkier.
pairin is trailing a hand up his thigh.
“ryo,” she coos. “it’s been forever. i’ve missed you.”
it has been forever. ryomen sukuna hasn’t slept with pairin, or any other girl for that matter, since he started dating you. yes you’ve broken up and gotten back together a hundred times, and technically when you’re broken up he’s a free man, but sukuna knows if he dared to touch another woman even when you’re not with him he’d never hear the end of it. so he’s always been patient. always waited.
which is why it’s not fucking fair for you to let naoya curl up behind you right now.
his eyes narrow. ryomen sukuna watches as naoya slips behind you at the bar, arm around your waist once again. fucking idiot. sukuna doesn’t even care about his arm on your waist instead of your hips anymore. once he gets his hands on naoya, he won’t even have an arm to begin with.
but sukuna doesn’t understand it.
he knows his girl. he knows you. he knows you bark more than you bite, he knows you’re bratty and stubborn and selfish and petty, and he knows men like naoya zenin are not your fucking type. he knows you would never put up with a man who would even yell at you—he found that out the hard way. so how could you let naoya touch you so casually after he dared to disrespect you?
are you really moving on?
he’s heard about it before. boundaries crumbling when people fall in love. is that what’s happening here? is naoya manipulating you? are you being pressured? can he kill him?
or do you actually—god forbid—like naoya?
sukuna scoffs. fucking hell if you do. he’ll kill naoya so you have no one to love. he’ll be damned if the man who steals your heart after him is one that doesn’t even know how to hold you right. naoya zenin will die today. ryomen sukuna will make sure of it.
“ryo,” pairin coos. when did her tits press against his chest?
she’s shifted so much that she’s practically on top of him, thigh digging into his hip. sukuna kisses his teeth. “don’t fucking call me that.”
pairin pouts, sliding a hand down his chest. “so mean. ever since you started dating that girl, you’ve become so mean to me.”
sukuna hears a laugh. it’s you, laughing at something the bartender says. another poor man who will be joining sukuna’s kill list. or maybe not, since you seem happy. you take a sip of your drink and frown when a drop lands on your chest. so cute.
pairin lifts a hand to shift his jaw back to her face. “you’re smiling.”
“yeah,” his voice is bored. “not at you.”
she frowns. “you used to be fun.”
“i used to be single.”
he still is right now, but not for long. never for long. he watches as you take another cup from the bartender. that’s drink number three. behind you naoya presses his face into your neck, and sukuna watches as you ease into him.
ryomen sukuna is blinded by rage.
he’s not quite thinking when he does it. he’s not quite thinking when he grabs pairin by the back of her neck, shoving her lips onto his. she squeaks, “mmph—!” as sukuna presses his lips against her. she tries to sneak her tongue past his lips. he keeps his mouth shut.
sukuna sees it.
he keeps his eyes open the whole time, and across the bar he watches your face lift. you’re laughing, you always are, but then your gaze drifts across the room to him.
the drink in your hand nearly drops.
you do that little thing where your chest heaves—anxious?—and your fingers curl tight around the cup in your hands. your brows furrow like you’re glaring but your lips are wobbly, oh god, they’re so wobbly—
he pushes pairin off his lap.
but it’s too late. you’re already off your chair, scrambling, and sukuna can’t see that well from this far but he knows your eyes are wet. he saw that tear slip down your cheek. he bolts for the exit but someone pulls him back by the shoulder—
“sukuna?” sato’s brows are knit. “what the fuck? what’s wrong man?”
sukuna’s chest is still heaving. his eyes are still on the door.
ryomen sukuna has lost the girl once again.
TOJI’S REMARK: NOT THAT KIND OF OFFENSE, IDIOT.
EX-BOYFRIEND TACTICS #4: SWALLOW YOUR PRIDE !
taught by: sato gojo
“girls like y/n? they like to keep things difficult. and your prefer it just like that, don’t you?”
ΣΧ
ryomen sukuna hasn’t left his room in days.
two weeks. it’s been two weeks since he kissed another girl and watched you leave with tears in your eyes. and sukuna’s disgusted. stomach against the mattress and head buried in a pillow. you’re pretty when you cry—you’re always pretty—but not so much when he’s the cause of your tears.
SlayedBySato is officially blocked by you on instagram. sato’s tried to come in to cheer sukuna up, but to no avail. sukuna won’t eat anything suguru cooks, or any food at all for that matter. megumi sometimes opens his door and stares at him with bored eyes before leaving. toru comes into his room to sit on the floor and read. he’s always shaky & anxious and glancing up at sukuna every five seconds when he does that, but he still comes in to offer his company anyways.
sukuna’s scrolling through his phone, eyes watching nothing in particular. he gets a notification. probably suguru offering him food. maybe just team snapchat. he ignores it. but then his phone chimes again.
[ mine🫀: OBLIGATIONS.docx ]
sukuna’s brows knit. you have him blocked. that can’t be you.
but he clicks the message anyways. and it is you, and the first thing that greets him is your profile picture. you’re smiling big into the camera, angle low & silly, and somehow you still manage to look bright and beautiful. sukuna swallows. scrolls down to your new messages.
mine🫀: i know what you did at that party was just to get my attention. mine🫀: since u wanna be pathetic i’ll give you more opportunity to do so mine🫀: OBLIGATIONS.docx
sukuna clicks the document. there are no greetings, no ‘to whom may be concerned’, no date or titles. just three things.
WRITE ME A LETTER OF APOLOGY. HANDWRITTEN.
CLEAR OUT EVERY ITEM IN MY SHOPPING CART. USERNAME: y/nthebaddest PASSWORD: d1cknballs11037
APOLOGIZE TO ME AND ADMIT TO YOUR PLANS OF SABOTAGE IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE CAMPUS, JUST LIKE IN YOUR STUNT ON GAME DAY.
his phone chimes again.
mine🫀: you have one week. if you want me back you’ll complete everything on this list. if u dc just ignore it. mine🫀: bye sukuna.
sukuna stares at the list. studies every word. contemplates each task.
and then he laughs.
yeah. that’s his fucking girlfriend.
# SHOW TIME
sukuna trudges into the frathouse living room with his laptop under his arm. at the center table sato is already there, humming contentedly while playing a game of monopoly by himself. he perks up when he hears the sound of the door.
“well, well,” sato sings. “look who crawled out of my grandfather’s ass.”
“what does that even mean?”
“ignore him,” suguru hums. he steps out from the kitchen with a plate of steaming hot jollof rice in his hands. he scoops some with his spoon, blows on it, and offers a bite to sukuna. “here, try some.”
“mm,” sukuna murmurs, leaning down for a bite. it’s hot, chewy—but then sukuna frowns.
“there’s no maggi in this rice.”
geto’s face falls. “no more food for you.”
whatever. sukuna sits at the center table, setting up his laptop right over sato’s monopoly game. he ignores sato’s protests as he opens up your shopping cart. “she sent me a list.” he announces. “of stuff i have to do if i want her back.”
suguru slides in at the opposite side of the table, brows raised. “show us.”
WRITE ME A LETTER OF APOLOGY. HANDWRITTEN.
CLEAR OUT EVERY ITEM IN MY SHOPPING CART. USERNAME: y/nthebaddest PASSWORD: d1cknballs11037
APOLOGIZE TO ME AND ADMIT TO YOUR PLANS OF SABOTAGE IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE CAMPUS, JUST LIKE IN YOUR STUNT ON GAME DAY.
sato blinks at the screen. “dick n’ balls,” he smiles wide. “i love your girlfriend.”
“tread lightly.”
suguru squints at the last item. “this is bad. she’s saying she wants you to confess in front of the whole school? like on game day?” his eyes lift to sukuna. “the dean might actually suspend you if we pull something. you know how much trouble i got in when they heard my voice on the speakers?”
“i had to pay him out of trouble,” sato shudders. “and it wasn’t cheap.”
sukuna frowns. if sato’s complaining? it definitely wasn’t cheap.
but sukuna only opens up your cart, taking in the items on screen. he’s not surprised when he scrolls through the items. lingerie from bordelle & agent provocateur, bags from dior and bottega vennetta, shoes, makeup—the high end kind—and then a bunch of sex toys, also unnecessarily overpriced. his lips tug when he notices a pair of lacy black panties. he already knows that’s for him.
or it could be for naoya to fuck you in, so his face falls.
sato slumps against sukuna’s shoulder. “wow. pricey stuff.”
“she likes nice things,” he mutters, double checking the items. he makes sure everything is in CAD and not USD, and then he checks out. nearly $5000 on clothing, accessories, lingerie. CIBC sends him a notification for possible fraud on his card immediately. he clicks no, this was me.
suguru whistles. “well, that’s that.” he leans back on his palms. “on to task number two?”
——
sukuna taps his pencil against the paper in front of him. “how do i spell exquisite.”
“e-s-q, u-z-t,” sato answers proudly. “all you have to do is sound out the vowels. i learned that trick back in freshman year.”
“there are no vowels in what you just spelled.”
suguru drags a palm over his face. he watches as sato strokes his chin, both he and sukuna staring at the half-empty letter with intense focus. he’s not sure whether to start with explaining to sato that this is not the spelling of exquisite, or if he should let sukuna know that ‘e’ and ‘u’ are indeed vowels.
he chooses to do neither. “sukuna, what do you need the word ‘exquisite’ for?”
“i need to tell her her ass is exquisite.”
“in her apology letter?”
“Yes.”
oh, okay. actually no—it’s not okay. suguru pinches his nose. “this is an apology letter. what does her ass have to do with this?!”
“she likes when i say nice things about her body,” sukuna mumbles, low. geto softens. that’s actually sweet.
“i’m gonna tell her i like her nipples.”
suguru snatches the letter from his hands.
he makes the mistake of letting his eyes drop to the poorly written text, and he’s reading it in his head before he can think any better of it: Hello, I am sorry. Your ass is esquizit. Come back to me. Nipples.
“jesus fucking christ,” suguru breathes.
sukuna scowls at him. “you didn’t let me finish the last sentence.”
sato hugs his knees. “i like this letter.”
suguru ignores them. he puts the letter aside, and tears out a new sheet of paper from the notepad on the table. “look, ryomen. i know you’re not good with words. and i know y/n it’s important to you. so we’re gonna help you.”
sato leans back on his palms. “yup, we are.”
“i meant i’m gonna help him,” suguru glares at sato. “tell me what’s on your mind. what you think. what you feel in your chest when you think about her. if she looked you in the eye and told you she was upset about all you’ve done, what would you say to her?”
sukuna scowls at nothing in particular, pondering. “i’d kiss her.”
“that’s what you would do,” suguru wags his pencil. “what would you say?”
sukuna thinks a bit harder. he thinks about how you look when you’re sad, how you don’t laugh, how your bottom lip juts out in that wobbly pout that makes his stomach hurt. he thinks about how you’d cuss at him before the tears fall, and then you’d grip his collar while spitting teary insults, before collapsing in his chest and letting him kiss your cheek till you quiet down. sukuna thinks very hard.
“i’d tell her i’m sorry,” he says. “and that i hate it when she cries.”
suguru nods. “go on,”
“i’d tell her i was scared,” he murmurs. “of her moving on. of her finding someone better.” he breathes. “i don’t want her to be with anyone that’s not me.”
suguru and sato stay silent.
“i don’t even care about naoya,” sukuna’s voice is tired. his palm slides over his face. “i just want her to be with me.”
“aww,” sato coos.
“shut up.”
but sukuna doesn’t shove sato away when he leans over to hug his head. sato pats sukuna’s face into his chest. “suguru,” sukuna mutters. “can you say that i miss her?”
“already did.”
suguru turns the paper around to reveal the words. sukuna squints to make out the words behind the pretty cursive.
dear y/n, i know i've said sorry a thousand times. i know it doesn't mean much coming from me. but i mean it. i'm sorry for the party. i'm sorry for kissing someone else. i'm sorry for making you cry. i hate it when you cry, hate when i make you sad. i hate it when you look at me like you don't trust me anymore. i was scared. scared you were moving on. scared you were finding someone better. i was scared i was losing you for good. i don't care about naoya. i don't care about other women. i don't care about any of it. i just want you. i want to earn you back. i want to earn your trust. i want to be the person you deserve. i love you. i've never loved anyone else like you. i don't want to love anyone else. please give me a chance to prove it. — sukuna
sukuna blinks at the letter. “i sound pathetic.”
“you are pathetic,” suguru sets it down. “for y/n at least.”
he is, isn’t he?
suguru taps his pencil against the table. “so, do you like it? or shall we draft a new one?”
sukuna thinks about it. sato is still patting his head.
“nah,” he says. “it’s perfect.”
SATO’S REMARK: OH WE’RE SO GETTING HER BACK
EX-BOYFRIEND TACTICS #5: HAVE YOU EVER APOLOGIZED WITH YOUR LIFE ON THE LINE ?!
taught by: nanami kento
“this is the stupidest plan i’ve ever heard.”
ΣΧ
the letter is done. the shopping cart is cleared. but the boys of sigma chi can’t rest just yet.
they do so anyway. suguru is sprawled lazily on the couch, legs spread and popcorn bucket in his hands. sato has his cheek on geto’s chest, curled up beside him. and even sukuna is leaning into the warmth, legs crossed on the floor and his head against suguru’s leg. the tv is playing something none of them truly care about.
suguru takes a bite of popcorn, teeth sticky. “how the fuck are we gonna pull off the last task?”
sato tosses a kernel into sukuna’s open mouth. “i have no idea.”
suguru pops another kernel between his lips, and then feeds a bite through sato’s open mouth on his chest. “before we even get to that—i’ve been thinking. what about that deal naoya mentioned? back in the stadium?”
sato and sukuna perk up.
sukuna’s jaw ticks again. he’s tried not to think about it. tried not to think about how naoya dared to raise his voice at you, how he dared to shove you back in his anger. he licks his canines. his chest is hot.
“i’ve been thinking about it too,” sato says. “ i have a theory.”
“uh oh.”
“don’t be mean,” sato pouts, and suguru pulls his cheek lovingly. he leans off suguru’s chest, palms still on his shoulders for balance. “my theory? y/n wants to make sukuna jealous. naoya wants him jealous too. boom. they work together and date.”
suguru nods. “but now, naoya thinks y/n is dating him so she and sukuna can work together to trash his reputation,” he muses. “and so he’s treating her badly.”
sukuna’s nails dig into his palms.
he knew you wanted him jealous—that’s obvious. but the thought of his stupid antics putting you in danger? with naoya? fuck. you’re a sharp girl. but you’re all bark and no bite. what the fuck is he supposed to do if naoya even thinks of disrespecting you again?
he speaks up. “back at the party. the one we went to after the game,” he bites his cheek. “i saw her with him again. that’s why i got mad. kissed that pamela bitch.”
“pairin.”
“i don’t give a fuck.” sukuna grumbles. “but that’s not what tripped me up. she was with naoya again—even after how he treated her.” his fingers dig into the couch. “she drags me by the ear when i raise my voice just slightly. why would she stay by naoya after all that? just to make me jealous?”
geto thinks out loud. “what if he has something on her?”
the boys go quiet.
for you to stay with someone like naoya, genuine or not? sukuna knows it must be something serious. he leans off the couch, turns to his boys.
“we need to start planning that final task.”
# SHOW TIME !
“kenny,” suguru begs. “please. we need your help.”
nanami pushes up his glasses. “immediately no.”
the theatre hall is humongous.
thousands of students fitted into velvet seats. there’s some ceremony today—what it’s about, sukuna doesn’t know—but he knows it’s the only opportunity he has to fulfill your last task. the next gameday is a week away, past the one week timeframe you specified.
sukuna also knows you’re in the crowd. he’d seen you sitting close to the front. right next to naoya.
god, you looked gorgeous. low cut top that exposes your plush breasts because you have no sense of time and place. skirt short as always, bunched up around your thighs, and lashes fluttering. bored. you looked hopelessly bored and beautiful next to naoya, and it wasn’t till shoko slipped into the seat beside you that your glossy lips smiled again. fuck. sukuna hopes he’ll get to speak to you soon.
but right now, he and the boys are trying to convince nanami to let him show up on stage in place of presenting his speech.
they’re all backstage. sigma chi treasurer nanami kento is sat at a makeshift desk, tie pin straight, expression flat as usual. “i will not allow you to take over my speech in the name of love and sacrifice. this is the stupidest plan i’ve ever heard.”
“nanaken, you’re not listening,” sato shakes his shoulders. “this is a matter of life and death—our last chance to help sukuna get his girl back.” sato pleads. “if we don’t succeed, he’ll be depressed!”
“i won’t be depressed.”
“he’ll be depressed!”
nanami only pinches his nose.
“look,” suguru starts, leaning over the table with his palms. “let’s make a deal. you let us crash your speech? sato buys you all the BL manhwa you want.”
nanami perks up. “BL?”
sato frowns. “sato?”
“exactly,” suguru says. “i know you’re tired of reading semantic error on a screen. we’ll get you all the physical copies—and whatever other BL you have on your reading list. all you have to do is let us crash your set.”
nanami thinks about it. thinks about how nice it’d be to see jang jaeyoung on a page, how he’d be able to have the story right there between his fingertips. he thinks about it. ponders hard.
and then he nods. “you’ve got yourselves a deal.”
——
each speech passes by way too fast.
well honestly, not fast enough. the audience is snoozing. they forget to clap after some speeches, and in the crowd sukuna can see you watching, bored. you have your head against shoko’s shoulder, phone in your hands. a man in a suit walks up to the stage to remind the audience of ‘etiquette’ and ‘keeping their phones away’. you roll your eyes and take a selfie with shoko, lips puckered out.
god, he misses you.
he closes the backstage curtains. suguru is waving his speech around. “you’re up next, man. you ready?”
sukuna swallows. why the fuck does he feel anxious? sukuna doesn’t do anxious. angry? horny? yes. but anxious?
he swipes the speech from suguru’s hands. “yeah. m’ready.”
———
sukuna is not ready.
but he’s not anxious either, so that’s a win. his body’s vibrating with something he can’t quite name. the audience is clapping away as the current presenter leaves.
suguru claps his back. “go.”
and go he does. he rips the velvet curtains apart and trudges his way to the podium. his hands are in his pockets and his gaze is bored and through the corner of his eyes all he can see is you you you.
you, with your brows furrowed and lips in a pout he wants to kiss off. you stare after him with big eyes, before your eyes go even bigger. he watches you facepalm.
that shouldn’t make him laugh. he sets his speech on the podium.
in the audience, shoko is nudging your shoulder. “girl. isn’t that your man?”
naoya turns to frown at her. “excuse me?”
you and shoko ignore him. “i have no idea what he’s up to.” you lie.
on the podium sukuna clears his throat. the TVs overhead are zoomed in on his face. his hair is golden-red under the lights, and sweat glistens on his skin, and sukuna takes in a deep breath.
“my name is ryomen sukuna, and i’m the previous captain of the pandas football team.”
some people whistle and cheer. others watch in silent confusion. naoya is gritting his teeth beside you and shoko is squeezing your thigh.
“i’m here to make a confession in light of recent events within our campus community,” sukuna murmurs into the mic. god, fuck geto suguru and his pretty cursive. sukuna can’t read shit.
“at the first game of the season,” sukuna clears his throat. “there was a video broadcast that interrupted the flow of the ceremony. i profusely apologize for that,” he says. “i was the one responsible.”
gasps fill the arena.
“it’s unsportsmanlike, i know.” he adjusts the mic. “whether the contents of the video are honest or not, to broadcast them during the ceremony was uncalled for and inappropriate. i had no good or honest intentions behind it.” he grits his teeth, eyes leaving the script.
“i wanted to embarrass naoya.”
the crowd is silent, and sukuna finds your eyes.
you’re looking right at him with an expresssion he can’t make out. beside you naoya is there, arm around your seat, and anger seeps into his chest. naoya has a black eye—he’ll have to thank suguru and sato for that. he’ll also have to give him a matching one on his left eye.
he continues his speech.
“naoya zenin, captain of the pandas, stole my girlfriend.” he spits into the mic. “so i chose to embarrass him publicly. that’s it. that’s my reason.”
the audience is muttering, talking amongst themselves. some people have their phone’s up, recording. some are enraged. some girls are swooning.
“y/n l/n—fuck,” he spits into the mic, gaze bleary. he’s gripping the podium with both arms now, head down and away from the cameras. “evil fucking girl,” he murmurs.
“you don’t want him, baby,” he breathes against the mic.
“come back to me.”
the theatre is silent.
and then it roars
single ladies. girlfriends. boyfriends. members of the football team who miss life under sukuna’s reign. they’re all cheering for him, loud and unrestrained. clapping as sukuna grips the podium with his eyes on the hardwood. the headlights flash on his face and he squints to look past them, eyes lifting towards the audience.
you’re not at your seat.
why?
did you miss the end of the speech? sukuna blames himself. he didn’t even have the guts to look up at you as he breathed out the last line, and now he’ll never know if you heard the very words he’s been wanting to say. sukuna almost laughs. his eyes are hot but he almost laughs.
the audience is still roaring. sukuna rips his speech off the podium and walks off the stage.
NANAMI’S REMARK: SO ALL THAT FOR WHAT?
BOYFRIEND TACTICS #1: NEVER LOSE ME.
taught by: y/n l/n
“never had a bitch like me in your life”
❤︎
when sukuna trudges through the curtains, sato and suguru are already there.
faces flushed, chests heaving. “holy fucking shit—“ suguru pulls sukuna’s head into his arms. “you fucking did that.”
he did. so why does he feel so damn empty?
sato is practically bouncing, worming his way into the hug. “you did that!” he cheers. “did you see y/n’s face? was she cheering too—?”
“she left.”
sato and suguru freeze.
suguru pulls away first. sukuna’s face is dull, downcast—and his eyes are dark and soulless. “oh no—” suguru mutters. he holds sukuna’s face. “did you see when she left?”
“no,” he murmurs. no, he didn’t.
“fuck,” sato curses. “fucking hell, man—isn’t this low? even for her?”
suguru pulls sukuna’s head back under his chin. sukuna doesn’t resist or protest. just stares at the wood floor with empty eyes. but then a voice calls his name.
“ryomen sukuna. are you brooding?”
if god liked him, it would’ve been you. standing there in your short skirt and skimpy top and a teasing smile on your lips. mocking his misery. grinning up at him.
but instead it’s shoko ieri, brown hair under a bucket hat.
under normal circumstances, he’d be happy to see her. sukuna likes most of your friends. they’re all pretty party girls like you, a bunch of twenty-something year olds who think life is about bourbon glasses and friday mornings passed out in the backseat of someone’s car. they’re wild but they’re all nice girls, and they’re good to you so that’s fucking that.
but he doesn’t want to see your friends. sukuna wants to see you.
suguru brushes sukuna’s hair back. “shoko. to what do we owe the pleasure?”
“relax, geto. i’m not here to cause trouble,” she hums, leaning against a beam. “just here to pass across a message.”
she muses. “backstage dressing room. one-hundred two, not hundred and one,” shoko recites. “i have to leave now, but don’t be late. and sukuna,” she pauses to look at him. “no backup. just you.”
she turns away with a lilt in her steps, and the boys of sigma chi are left staring at each other in confusion. the message is clear though, and sukuna wipes his face.
room 102. got it.
# SHOW TIME !
ryomen sukuna comes in alone.
the door to room 102 pushes open with a creaak. the dressing room is racks and racks of clothing, some on the floor, some strewn across tables, and mirrors upon mirrors. the vanities still have their lights glowing orange. the room smells like rust and girl.
sukuna finds you in front of a mirror.
you’re checking yourself out, neon pink feather boa around your shoulders. on your head is a comically large sun hat, and there’s a bright green belt flung around your waist. you don’t look up when he walks in. just shift your hips in the mirror, skirt swishing around your thighs.
“you like my outfit?” you hum, still facing the mirror.
you look silly. if he was in a better mood, he’d probably smile. but instead he trudges forward and leans back against the table behind you. “yeah. looks cute.”
“hmm,” you fit your hands over your hips. “i still feel like it’s missing something.”
sukuna stays quiet.
you walk over to a bunch of boxes, pulling out all sorts of costume pieces. your tone is sing-song. “i heard your little speech.”
sukuna plays with the bracelet on his wrist. it’s not a bracelet. it’s one of your bra straps, actually, and he’d forgotten he put it on before the speech. it’s suddenly itchy against his wrist. “you liked it?”
“i thought it was cute,” you hum, inspecting a tie. you walk over to him, and sukuna spreads his legs a bit so you can slip between his thighs. you hold the tie up to him. “can you help me?”
he takes the tie from your hands. fits it over your neck quietly. he’s folding the ribbon around your neck, pretending he can’t feel your breath on his lips.
he murmurs, “i don’t understand what you’re doing, baby.”
his palm leaves your tie to cup your cheek. your gloss smudges against his palm. “what do you mean? i’m getting dressed up.”
his thumb strokes your cheek. “please don’t play dumb.”
you snuggle into his palm, humming contentedly. sukuna’s thumb still strokes your cheek. his other hand has come up squeeze your hip, then snake around it, then pull you closer into him.
“i’m sorry,” he breathes against your lips.
“for what?”
“for kissing another girl,” he murmurs. “for even looking at her. for being difficult. always giving you a reason to turn around and leave, then begging you to come back.” he cups your face.
“i love you. i’ve never loved any girl the way i love you.”
you trail a palm down his chest. “come back to me,” you repeat his speech.
“come back,” he murmurs, hands sliding up your spine. “come back to me, baby.”
you giggle as he leans closer to steal your lips. ryomen sukuna tastes like strawberry and spearmint.
Y/N’S REMARK: GUESS WHO’S BACK <3
COUPLE TACTICS #1 : DICKMEDOWN—WHO SAID THAT?!
taught by: ryomen sukuna’s cock
“there is no quote. i am a cock.”
❤︎
in ryomen sukuna’s bedroom, he has his back against the headboard and his girlfriend in his lap.
you’re half naked. clad in nothing but a lacy bra and matching black panties, giggling as you pose into his macbook camera. you lift another bra up to check it against your chest. ryomen sukuna squeezes your thigh.
“you like this one?” he murmurs behind you, reaching his hand up to grope your breast. “wasn’t in the cart. added it myself.”
“it’s so pretty,” you coo, lashes fluttering. “thank you, ryo.”
“you’re welcome, princess.”
it’s just two days after the whole speech at the theatre. ryomen sukuna watches you with bleary eyes. he leans back against the headboard, watching as you shrug off your bra to try another one he bought. he reaches up to graze his thumb over your pebbled nipple and you giggle, before sliding backwards to lean back against his chest. he squeezes your tits in his palms before kissing your cheek.
“love this set,” he murmurs against your ear. he’s twisting your nipple in one hand & the other is already sliding down over your belly, down to your lacy black panties. “so pretty on you.”
“mmh,” your thighs squeeze as his hand slips below the fabric, finding your wet, aching clit. he rubs the pad of his thumb over it in circles. kisses your cheek again when you whine.
“missed you,” he murmurs. “so bad, pretty.”
“mhm,” you breathe. you want to bite back with something sassy but ryomen sukuna is kneading your breast while his thumb fingers your clit. he slips in another finger and rolls the bud between them. your thighs squeeze around him.
“ryo,” you purr. “you’re gonna get them dirty.”
“i know,” he shushes you. “just wanna feel you.”
and feel you he does. he pushes your body up on his chest and latches his hot mouth around your nipple. “mmh—,” he groans, tongue swirling around the pebbled peak. “fuck, missed this.”
his fingers rub harder against your clit. faster, faster, until your hips arch of the bed and your thighs shake around him. he can already see slick coating your inner thighs, and your moans in his ear only make him rub harder. “fuck,” he curses. fuck fuck fuck.
your lashes go sticky with tears. your clit is wet and throbbing around his fingers. your thighs shake as you reach your high, and sukuna has to shove his lips to yours to quiet your moans. he licks his tongue into your mouth, hot and wet and sloppy, palm settling to gently rub your clit through your high.
you gasp, pulling away. your lashes are sticky & your cheeks flushed hot. “i missed you.”
he kisses you again, soft. “missed you too.”
he slips your panties off your thighs, holding your naked body against him. “missed this pussy too,” he rasps. “gonna stuff you till you’re cumming on my cock.”
you squirm against him, swatting his chest as he unzips his trousers. “but i just came!”
“you’ll come again, pretty.”
he fumbles with the zipper, slipping out his heavy, hard cock. his cockhead is throbbing and sticky with precum, and he shifts you forward so your back is against his chest.
“go slow,” you whimper, already nervous.
he kisses your shoulder. “you don’t want that.”
and you don’t. you arch into him as he slips his cock into your puffy, slick-coated folds from behind. he smears precum and slick over them with his cockhead, kissing your shoulder as you shiver against him. “relax, you’re okay. you still on the pill, baby?”
you nod shyly. he kisses your neck.
sukuna’s cock is thick. heavy and swollen and pulsing between your slobbering foods. he pushes his hips into you, letting your pussy squelch around him, and his arm fits under your body so he can grope your perky breasts. he tugs on a nipple before rolling it between his fingers. fuck.
you whimper as his cock stretches you out, sliding deeper and deeper into your folds. “fuck,” he breathes against your ear. “you’re so fucking hot. so tight. so wet.”
you whimper as his fingers find your clit again. he circles it hard, hips bucking to push his cock deeper into you before sliding back out, palms still fondling your breasts. it’s too much, it’s too fucking much, and he can hardly blame you for whining against him. “ryo—”
“shh—you’re good, you’re doing so good,” he rasps as you clench around his cock. “so fucking good. you know how good you feel around my cock, baby? m’so fucking lucky—.”
he’s shushing you but his hips only buck faster and faster. your eyes squeeze shut as he breathes. “fuck, gonna cum—“
your walls quiver around him as you come together, white hot cum stuffed between your folds. you groan, ragged, as sukuna pants into your neck. he kisses your shoulder before resting his head against your neck.
“i love you,” he rasps.
“i love you too.”
you stay like that for a moment, holding each other before he kisses your shoulder. “let’s get you cleaned up.”
——
“you have a lot of explaining to do.”
sukuna comes back with new shorts hanging low on his v-line. he has a warm cloth in his hands, and he climbs over your sore body. even now you’re still smiling up at him, lashes fluttering, cheeks flushed. “whatever do you mean?”
“don’t play dumb,” he kisses your cheek before gently nudging your thighs open. he slides the cloth down your inner thigh, ignoring the way you reach up to thread your fingers through his hair. “you have to explain. why you went to naoya.”
“but what if i don’t want to?”
“you will,” he says. he slides your panties up your thighs, pressing a kiss to your clit before slipping them all the way up.
but then he changes his mind. slips your panties down again.
“ryomen.” you’re already sitting up.
“relax,” he mutters against your puffy cunt. “lean back for me.”
you sigh, doing as he says. he licks a stripe up your glistening folds. he can taste himself on your stuffed cunt but his tongue keeps moving regardless. he pulls back, lips glistening with slick.
“you’re gonna tell me exactly what your fucking plan was,” he sucks on your bud, letting go with a pop. “why i saw you again with naoya after he dared to fucking talk to you like that.”
“so strict,” you whimper, cheeks puffed as your hips arch into him. “i can date anyone i want.”
“no,” sukuna hisses. “you can only date me.”
“mmh—” you moan as his tongue slobbers over your glossy folds. you run your fingers through his hair as your pussy drools onto his tongue. “mmh—wanted to make you mad,”
“you did good,” he sticks a finger into your cunt and you gasp, loud. he’s knuckles deep now, pumping his finger in and out of you. “hah—wanted you jealous,” you moan. “we were gonna get revenge.”
his fingers curl so hard you cry his name.
you whimper and he ignores it. “was already jealous. why’d you go back to him after he touched you?”
he curls his fingers again. “ah—! sorry, i’m sorry,” you cry, lashes wet. feels so good. “we weren’t dating for real. just showed up in public together. he said we couldn’t stop, said if we did that meant you won,” you whimper. “he apologized, let me punch him. i gave him a—hnngh—black eye.”
ah. so the black eye naoya had wasn’t from sato and suguru.
sukuna swirls his tongue over your clit, lapping and sucking as he pumps another finger into your drooling pussy. he curls them until he’s pressing into that spongy part that makes you sob, and he sucks gingerly as your pussy sputters and spits slick into his mouth. “ryo—m’gonna cum—”
your thighs shake, walls clenching. sukuna pumps his fingers in faster, letting your thighs squeeze his neck. you cum over his mouth, right around his fingers, and sukuna kisses your puffy, still-sensitive clit.
when he looks up at you, you’re glaring. eyes glistening wet, cheeks flushed. pretty.
“what?” he says. “you’re so mean,” you frown. “you see why i break up with you?”
sukuna huffs, climbing over your figure. when he’s right above you, you tug his neck down.
“i love you,” you mumble.
he kisses your lips. “i love you too.”
COCK’S REMARK : *HARDENS*
EX-BOYFRIEND TACTICS #6: BREAK THE CYCLE !
taught by: ryomen sukuna
“loving you is a loop.”
ΣΧ
in toru gojo’s room of his apartment, the boys of sigma chi are all there. oh—and you too, of course.
sato is fast asleep on his twin’s bed, laid down & drooling on suguru’s shoulder beside him. suguru is tapping at his nintendo switch with furious speed. toru is cooking up something in the kitchen. and on his PC, you and sukuna are there, suguru’s sims 4 game loaded up on screen.
you’re on sukuna’s lap, his arm looped around your hips as you rant about the many tribulations you had to endure while ‘dating’ naoya. you’re customizing sukuna’s sim for your save file, and said man is doing nothing but rubbing your thighs and pressing lazy kisses to your skin.
“—and he leaves his boxers everywhere!” you exclaim, scrolling through geto’s CC folder. “i had to come over after he had practice once and they were everywhere. it’s that bad!”
“mhm,” sukuna kisses your neck, love drunk & bleary-eyed. “so bad, baby.”
“he’s so unhygienic,” you shift in sukuna’s lap, and he squeezes your hips to keep you steady. “i told him to at least clean up if he knows i’m coming over. he said no!”
sukuna nuzzles your ear, squeezes your thigh. “mm. m’gonna kill him.”
“no you will not! stop threatening murder!”
sukuna looks up. you’ve turned your head over your shoulder to glare at him, and he looks up at you through bleary eyes. your cheeks are warm. lashes fluttering. you’re the prettiest headache he’s ever had.
he kisses your jaw. “missed fighting with your pretty face,” he murmurs. “gimme a kiss, baby.”
you soften, and he leans up to kiss you deep.
“woah—” suguru throws a pillow at you both. sukuna swats it away from you without pulling back from your lips. he squeezes your waist and geto frowns. “even if sato’s asleep, i’m still fucking here!”
sukuna ignores him, his hand crawling up to grope your tits. suguru scowls, turns over to face sato’s sleeping figure. he should’ve known protesting was futile. sukuna’s always been an exhibitionist, but you’d think his therapy sessions would’ve taught him better by now.
sukuna pulls back, your gloss smeared over his lip & chin. you giggle at the sight, “hi.”
“mmh,” he nuzzles your neck.
the door swings open, snapping you and sukuna out of your daze. in comes toru gojo with a plate of lazy cake, glasses slipping down his nose. he blushes when he sees you and sukuna pressed close together. “hi. i made snacks.”
“oh, toru!” you purr. “you’re my favorite, have i told you that?”
toru sets down the plate on the desk in front of you. as he leans down you press a kiss to his cheek, and he blushes so hard his face turns beet red. he looks up, surprised, and you’re beaming at him. behind you, sukuna is scowling.
toru drops the plate and runs away.
you turn back to glare at sukuna. “you scared him.”
“no one’s allowed to kiss you.”
“i kissed him!”
sukuna ignores your protests, trying to cup your jaw so he can get a kiss of his own. you shove his face back, and he scowls.
“go apologize to toru,” you frown at him. “now.”
sukuna wants to protest. wants to say he’s comfortable right here with your thighs over his lap and your lipgloss on his chin. but he knows if he fights back he’ll be left with nothing but a sore earlobe & an angry girlfriend. he grumbles as you slide off him.
sukuna trudges to the kitchen, says his apologies. toru accepts them in a heartbeat.
when he comes back to the room, you’re gone.
“where is she?” his heart drops. “suguru—where is she?”
“chill,” suguru mumbles, eyes never leaving his switch. “she left you a letter. check on the desk.”
and next to toru’s plate of dessert, a letter is indeed there. he picks it up, thumb running over the paper. you’ve left a glossy kiss mark at the end.
‘dear sukuna,’ it reads.
‘i’m breaking up with you.’
sukuna’s blood runs cold.
‘i know we just got back together a week ago. but i thought about it! thought about how i’m becoming a better woman, growing in my spiritual journey. do i really want a jealous man who scares away my friends by my side??
so i decided: let’s break up. for real this time. it’s not you, it’s me. maybe if we’re truly meant to be, the stars will align and our paths will cross yet again. but for now? i have to choose me and my growth. so i’m leaving. for good.
i still love you though!! you’ll always be my lover <3 i love you soso much baby boy. i don’t even want to do this. but i know i have to make the right choice for both of us.
sorry to walk away like this. and don’t forget, you are not allowed to date any other woman!!! i am the only woman for you!! always and forever!! no dating, sex, kissing, touching, NOTHING. if i find out you even LOOK at another woman i’ll hate you forever!!!!!!!!!!!!
okay, that’s all. goodbye forever. i’ll always love you ryo <333333 i’m sorry it had to end this way.’
sukuna stares at the letter. he reads it once. twice. then once more.
and then he laughs.
because this is his girlfriend, bratty and high-maintenance and demanding and all. because you say goodbye forever, but he knows he’ll see you next week. he knows tonight you’ll call and say you miss his voice and afterwards you’ll send him a text saying you’re still not getting back with him and will be blocking him as a final goodbye. he knows you’ll unblock him on a random wednesday and won’t text, and he’ll just have to keep sending messages till they don’t turn green and he can ask you to come back to him.
and you’ll say yes. you always do. and if there’s anything or anyone who stops you from saying yes, he’ll crush them.
he rubs his thumb over the bottom of the letter. your glossy kiss mark is there.
and right beside it?
XO, YOUR EX HO 💋
SUKUNA’S REMARK: SEE U NEXT WEEK.
#SIGMA-CHI STORIES !
XO, EX HOE end.
XO HEARTKAJI. do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload.
Locked in. I'm gonna freaking lock in for school and work. TRUST ME YALL IM NOT PLAYING ANYMORE- IM NOT GONNA BITCH, IM NOT GONNA MOAN, IM GONNA GET THAT BAG AND THAT MOTHERFUCKING 4.0GPA 🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿
4.0gpa to get that high paying future job so I can afford concert tickets, fight tickets, albums, FROZEN YOGURT and that money so I can spend it on concerts and albums NOWWWWW.
This is your sign, if U haven't lock in yet LOCK IN W ME
Your girl is employed again. After spam applying jobs, I got one in the span of 24hrs 🤞🏻Cortis, Enhypen, Lngshot I'm coming.
