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ittybittyfanblog · 7 months ago

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Only You, Darling (Only You, Babe)

Summary: There were orders for your abduction. You were made to be the bait by a rival gang to get to the elusive head of Onychinus. Sylus doesn’t take it too well. Word Count: 4.8k Tags: mc x sylus, fem!reader x sylus (use of she/her pronouns), depictions of violence (it gets a little graphic), reader gets abducted and injured, strong language, protective!sylus, he’s a little unhinged here, self-indulgent! A/N: I can’t believe this game pulled me out of a three-year creative rut LMAO. I’ve been doing fanarts, now I’m writing again?? The power these pixelated men hold over me, man. Anyway, enjoy! This version of Sylus is probably a little OOC idk idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It was close to midnight, and you're being followed.

On your six, a stocky man in an unassuming dark suit has been tailing you since you left the dingy bodega a little over a mile away from your apartment for about, three? five minutes—no, maybe even longer.

Shit, you mouth silently. Sloppy. You should’ve noticed him sooner, and the two other lackeys now closing in from up ahead. They’re armed too, if the hands hidden inside their jackets were any indication.

As if things aren't looking bad enough, you’ve decided tonight would be the perfect night to go weaponless, deciding against bringing your handgun with you since it was supposed to just be a quick run to the store for supplies. Namely, the late-night cravings sort of supply.

You clutch the wrinkled paper bag containing your coveted jalapeño Cheetos tightly.

This is what greed does to you, a mocking voice echoes in your head. Since when did your inner voice of reason sound masculine and oh-so-familiar?

Exhaling quietly, you try to calm the rising beat of your heart and appear to be clueless of your surroundings. Walk at a normal pace. Look unaware of the men with the intention to… What even was this? An ambush? Good, old, regular robbery? No, it doesn’t seem like they were in it for something that insignificant. They wouldn’t even bother to be this cautious if it were.

But then, what were they here for? The dangers you were more familiar with are of the monstrous kind in the literal sense of the word; entities that you face on a daily basis as a Deepspace hunter. Not the regular threats posed by mankind – which in this particular situation, suddenly feels more foreboding.

While racking your brain for ideas on how to slip away from their sight without escalating the situation, you fail to notice a fourth person hidden behind the dumpster inside the narrow alleyway on your left until you feel the cold, hard edge of a pistol gun hit your temple.

With a shout, your hand shoots up in an attempt to yank the gun away from the hand holding it but the sudden burst of pain from the impact has left you feeling dizzy and off-kilter. The moment you throw your fists up to block your face, heavy fists strike you directly in a flurry of hits, colliding with your forearm and your unguarded ribs.

You let out a pained grunt as you stagger backwards, trying your hardest to keep yourself from falling back on your ass and ward off the next incoming attack.

A sinister laugh alerts you of the others, now surrounding you in a circle. Shit!

You hastily shift your legs into a crouching position, bracing yourself as you attempt to sidestep the one in front of you before making a run for it. You spring into action, but before you can even take another step, an arm shoots out and coils tightly around your neck like a noose. A cloth that reeks of something distinct is slapped over your mouth and nose, rendering you unable to do anything but struggle.

“Now, now— the boss wants her in one piece, John,” The stocky man, who’s apparently larger and more jacked up-close, pipes up. John tightens the limb circling your throat, preventing you from breathing, before slightly loosening his grip.

“I’d advise you from struggling too much, sweetheart. But if you insist on making this harder for yourself,” the man talking suddenly grins, revealing rows of crooked, silver teeth. “He ain’t said nothin’ about a couple of bruises.”

You give him your dirtiest glare, trying to pull away from the death grip the burly man called John had on you, but you feel your muscles slowly becoming heavier and your vision starting to blur.

Ch-chloroform?

You make a muffled shout, a scurry that earns you a heavy hit on the stomach, one last futile move to free yourself, but the inevitable effect of the potent substance starts to overpower you.

“After all, we need to make sure that the big bad boss of Onychinus actually comes for his bitch, don’t we?”

Rendered completely useless, the men start to make quick work to restrain your arms and legs in a hogtie before carrying you down the street, to a shaded corner where a large, gray van is parked.

The barn doors open, and you’re tossed in carelessly to the back, landing painfully on the cold, hard floor. An involuntary whimper escapes your lips, feeling like one big bruise; splotches of red and blue start to form like a violent watercolor on your skin.

The engine revs. Before completely losing consciousness, you think you hear a faint caw.

The car drives off the beaten path, into the night, leaving not a trace of evidence of what transpired mere minutes ago aside from a discarded brown paper bag and a deflated bag of chips.

From a distance, flying towards the hazy skyline, a mechanical bird crows a bad omen.

_____

In the dead of the night, the head of Onychinus sits as a spectator; a towering presence at the head of a table inside a private room, obscured in plain sight, in an unremarkable establishment far east of Linkon City.

Unassuming as it may be, the room’s occupants are men of great renown, both in influence and notoriety. The CEO of a chain business in Azure Square, a regional manager of a well-known bank in Linkon, the head of a weapons trade representing a faction in the N109 zone… All held significant power, all held ulterior motives.

A meeting of minds; the type held only in the secrecy of the night, gone in the break of dawn.

Sylus has half the mind to listen in on the droning exchange of fake pleasantries and plastic smiles as the men deal trades in nature that of weapons and favors. A number of hungry, beady eyes cast him furtive glances, fearful yet devout. Some cautious in the hope of earning his approval.

“–the package will be en route to the agreed-upon address by the end of the week,” a stout man in spectacles finishes off, clearing his throat. Beads of sweat start to form at the back of his neck as red eyes bore into his, assessing. Deliberating. “O-or if Richard’s able to give me the go-ahead in advance, I’ll make sure it arrives by Friday,” a gulp—then, “sir.”

All in reverence.

He hums, his switchblade dancing idly in his hand, deliberately stretching the tension that hangs heavy in the air. He delights in this power to unsettle, savoring the authority that his mere presence commands—a demand for absolute deference.

“Make it half that time, will you, Raymond?” Sylus responds amicably, not as a question. The man, Raymond, sputters.

“That won’t be pos–” Sylus tilts his head, eyes shifting into something more dangerous. “Please, I’ll try to cut the time shorter but there won’t be any assurances.”

The pale-haired man sighs in acquiescence. “I suppose that will have to do.” Raymond lets out an exhale of relief, but catches his breath as Sylus continues, “Any later than Wednesday, and I’ll come to claim it personally.”

Raymond, more nerves than man, starts to blabber something in response—but stops when something black suddenly appears in a blaze of dark energy, near the shoulder of the intimidating man he’s trying to appeal to.

Sylus raises a hand, and a large crow lands on his pointer finger.

He caws, once. Twice. And shows a projection.

The inhospitably cold room suddenly went glacial.

All conversation halts to a stop as an overwhelmingly suffocating aura starts to emanate from the man—no, the being at the head of the table, making all that are in the vicinity freeze in fear.

The devil posing as the leader of Onychinus abruptly stands up, and Raymond thinks, Oh I’m going to die here.

Without a word, the man disappears in a Stygian haze.

Five minutes later, only after they felt like death was no longer looming over their heads, did anyone dare to move a muscle.

_____

Your head hurts, and your mouth tastes of rust.

Having been awake for longer than your captors were aware of – two (?) of which bickering near a barred slate of metal that you assume is the door after taking a quick peek from beneath the mess of hair concealing your face – you try to get your bearings together without arousing the suspicion of your present audience.

“–bet it’s gonna take a while ‘fore that guy arrives. You think she’s enough to get him to show his face?”

“Damned if I know. In any case, we got a pretty, li’l plaything on our hands,” a snort. “Make her worth the effort.”

Where were you? From what it looks like, you’ve been transported into a nondescript underground bunker of sorts, dank with a hint of mildew and rot in the air; a rumbling air vent on your left masking any noise that escaped your mouth when you woke up. The area is poorly lit, save for the flickering bulb hanging precariously above your head as your main source of light – good for casting shadows to hide your bruised face, bad for the pounding headache you’re pretty sure is a concussion. And with your back seemingly close to a wall, you arrive at the conclusion that there are no other entryways, no way to leave, but the guarded door in front of you.

In short, you have no idea where you are.

Fuck—this is bad, you swear to yourself internally, trying to control the rising panic swelling up your chest. You never thought your nightcap would lead to this mess. Nobody knows about your current predicament, and it’ll take more than a day before your absence raises any alarms, so right now, you’re on your own.

Think, think! What can you do?

What can you do? You have nothing on you, nothing you can use as a makeshift weapon to defend yourself with, and your hands are tightly bound behind your back by a thick, heavily twined rope with no give. The situation is slowly turning bleaker by the second, and it isn’t even your fault that you’re here in the first place! You were made a pawn, a mere bait in this messed-up dick-measuring contest between a crazy, sadistic, self-proclaimed head honcho and Onychinus’s own crazy, sadistic—

Wait a minute. Sylus.

You send a strong prayer to anyone above that’s listening, and an angry telepathic shout for good measure to the one who’s unaware of his involvement – but nonetheless the source of your ruined night – in this attempt at kidnapping a perfectly law-abiding citizen of Linkon.

Sylus, as much as I hate your unfortunate tendency to stalk me through means that, honestly? Eludes the hell out of me, I really, REALLY hope that you’ve been keeping tabs toni–

“Hey, boss! I think this one’s awake!”

Fuck. No use pretending anymore.

You hear heavy footsteps from outside the room before the corroded metal door swings open to reveal a large man, easily standing above six feet, sporting a neatly trimmed beard and an unsettling smile. His arms are covered in tattoos– overlapping, almost undecipherable. A gnarly scar runs from the side of his mouth to just above his brow bone; his right eye a cloudy gray, most likely a morbid souvenir from the sustained injury.

His functional eye zeroes in on your pitiful form, and his smile widens into a hostile grin.

“Well, well. It seems like our esteemed guest is finally ready to join in the fun,” His voice sounds like gravel, with a mocking intonation. “I hope my men weren't too rough with you on the way here.”

You let out a breath through your teeth, blinking a few times to try and rid the blurring in your vision. You have to bide your time– “Why am I here? What do you want from me?”

The man cocks his head to the side, smile still in place. “I assume you already know. But I’ll indulge you your little questions, why not?”

He crosses the space separating the two of you with just a few, languid steps before he’s in front of you. He leans forward, brushing the messy locks of hair – dried with blood – away from your face in a deceptively calm manner. “The devil needs to pay his dues, but it’s been rather difficult to get a hold of him, you see,” he sighs in exaggerated disappointment. ”I intend to collect, so I waited patiently for the right moment, for an opening. For an opportunity.

And here, the opportunity presents herself.”

You sneer, moving your head back to let your hair fall from his creepy hold. “I’ve no clue what you’re talking about, mister, but I’m pretty sure you’ve got the wrong idea.”

He barks out a laugh before gripping your chin tightly between his fingers. “You’ve got a smart mouth on you. Maybe we can find a better use for it.”

You feel it before you hear it.

“Perhaps not.”

Something vicious saturates the air, something intense and terrifying and wrong. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and some sort of primordial response deep within your brain is telling you to get away from it.

But then, the paralyzing fear melts away to something akin to hope when you realize the source of this new disturbance.

Relief washes over you when familiar ink-and-red tendrils materialize behind the man in front of you. The dark wisps dissipate like smoke as soon as it comes and in place, your savior – sporting an expression that could only be described as downright murderous – stands before you, all six feet of unadulterated rage.

Several things happened so fast, it was almost simultaneous.

A cacophony of shouts came loudest from the two men who had been on guard duty but screams also echoed from outside the room. You saw flashes of red, twin laughter, and blood spurting from the necks of the now headless guards, and then a symphony of bullets and a lot of things breaking rang across the room.

Suddenly—

Deafening silence. As if something has put an abrupt stop to the noise.

Amidst all the chaos, the scarred man in front of you had no time to make a move before savage whips of crackling energy engulfed him, leaving only his head free from the smothering darkness.

His expression betrays something wild and manic as he tries twisting around to look at the figure behind him. “You—”

Sylus pays no mind to the breathing, dead fool—lower than dirt on his feet, with the nerve to harm what is most precious to him—as he keeps his gaze solely on you; his eyes darting up and down as if taking inventory of all the bruises and scrapes you sustained from the abduction.

You meet his eyes. “You came.”

An indecipherable look passes his face, gone as quickly as it came. “A little too late. I apologize.”

You weakly huff out a chuckle, wanting to shake your head but decide against it lest it aggravates your concussion. A prickling sensation, then the rope around your wrists falls off with a quiet thud.

“Luke. Kieran.”

“Everything’s all accounted for, boss,” Kieran announces, suddenly appearing beside your right, along with Luke who’s on your left. Both look no worse for wear.

The latter gives you a sympathetic look. “Oh, man. They got you good, little crow.”

“Caught me off-guard, s’all,” you insist half-heartedly.

A sigh. “Transport her directly back to base. Attend to her critical injuries once you arrive, and keep her awake. I’ll handle the rest once I get back,” Sylus instructs the twins in a tone that brooks no argument.

They nod in sync and start making a move to carry you out, but you protest.

“Wait, you’re staying behind?” For some reason, the thought of being separated from him, even for a short amount of time, makes you feel ill. Well, worse than your current state, at least.

Sanguine eyes soften when he hears the tremble in your voice. The offending man in front of you, reduced into something less threatening than a cowering dog in comparison to your rescuer, is forcibly pushed aside to make room for Sylus as he steps closer.

He crouches low so that you’re looking down on him instead of up. One large hand covers both of yours, mindfully avoiding the fresh rope burns on your wrists, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the unmarred part of your skin.

“This will be quick, sweetie. I’ll be back by your side before you know it,” he exhales, closing his eyes for a moment. “I swear to you.”

You swallow, but nodded reluctantly. “Come home soon.”

“I will.”

With that, you let yourself be carried out of the claustrophobic space you were confined to, into a larger room littered with unmoving bodies that you're frankly too tired to care about at the moment, up three (rickety) flights of stairs where you exit into what looks like the inside of an empty shipping container, before finally, finally getting out.

A gust of salty wind hits you and you ask, “Are we near the docks?”

“Yeah,” Kieran answers, carefully putting you down on the backseat of Sylus’ car. “Mephisto trailed after the van they stuffed you in before reporting back to the boss. We followed soon after.”

Luke frowns as he inserts the key in the ignition. “We weren’t aware that they had eyes on you for a while now. An oversight on our part, won’t happen again,” he assures you. “Gotta give them props for that, at least.”

Kieran, now getting in the passenger side of the vehicle, shoots him a look.

“Anyway, we’re glad we got to you before they did anything… worse,” Kieran continues, then winces in a show of mock sympathy. “Can’t say the same to that fucker back inside. Haven’t felt Sylus’ bloodlust this strong in a long while.”

You try to focus on their words, but you feel yourself nodding off as the remaining adrenaline slowly leaves your body. You know you should feel more worried about what the two were insinuating, but your mouth still tastes like you swallowed a bunch of coins and you just want a soft bed to sleep in for an entire day. Or three.

“Oi, no sleeping. Doctor’s orders,” A snapping finger in front of your face forces you awake.

You blink your tired eyes open in an attempt to stay lucid, the pulsing pain in your head becoming more prominent as soon as the threat of danger has passed.

“This is gonna be a long night,” you sigh, wishing that Sylus will keep his word and be quick about… whatever he’s planning to do with your abductor.

–––––

There hasn’t been much left of the man who proclaims to be the new head of an arms syndicate Sylus had dealt with in the past. He recalls the history of his relationship with the cartel being less than cordial, but nothing that would warrant his ire. Except for tonight.

He usually doesn’t leave a trace when doling out punishments; no, not anymore. Not in recent years. He prefers to be efficient about his killings, dissipating any evidence in thin air after reducing them into fine paste, rather than make a big show out of it. Quick and precise.

Except today… Someone had the arrogance, the absolute audacity to steal directly from the dragon’s nest.

The contents of which have always been kept in strict confidentiality. What is known, only chosen individuals bound to secrecy are privy to, and a lot of people would kill for.

But unbeknownst to anyone else but its owner, only one thing in this hoard of secrets truly matters to the dragon. One solitary treasure alone he would burn planets for—and someone has tried to steal it.

Harm. the treasure. To get to him.

It seems as if the new bloods needed a reminder of who, exactly, they’re stealing from.

One who dwells deep within the underbelly of the cities both monster and men inhabit, that even the most heinous of sinners seeking solace in the dark, are afraid of.

And what retribution tastes like to those who are foolish enough to bite more than what they can chew.

The poor soul unfortunate enough to be the first one to discover the carnage will witness that what was left of the man that had wronged the Onychinus kingpin is now stuck on the walls, the floor, and the ceiling of a basement where the treasure was held captive. They will find that the man’s innards are deliberately hung in a haphazard fashion, in all corners of the room like bloody, sinewy tinsel.

And the centerpiece of this bloodbath is none other than the man’s decapitated head, forcibly attached to the hanging light in the middle of the room. A bulb crudely drilled past his cranium, while blood dripped down the floor in slow, ominous rivulets.

They will understand in dawning horror that the one responsible for this... gross butchery, has left the head swinging. That the man’s mouth will forever remain agape in an eternal scream to immortalize the exact moment he realizes the gravity of his sin.

Yes, Sylus is more than glad to remind them.

_____

You arrive a quarter past four AM.

Barely taking a step past the foyer, the twins immediately whisk you inside to perform an ‘emergency patch-up.’ Luke’s words, not yours.

“We’re your personal CNA while waiting for the head nurse to take over,” he explains cheerfully, wrapping another layer of gauze around your wrist. You hiss when Kieran dabs a cotton ball on the gash on your temple, peroxide fizzing as it comes in contact with the dried-up blood. Muttering out a “sorry!” Kieran does quick work in cleaning the injury and covering the affected area.

In no time at all, all visible wounds are bandaged and disinfected. The worst of your head wound had to be stitched up, but other than that, nothing seems to require immediate medical attention. There’s nothing left for you to do but to bear the aches that came along with the bruises – especially on your tender midriff – and to pop a tylenol for your throbbing headache.

You offer them a sincere, “Thanks. No, really.” before they leave you in Sylus’ room, after multiple reminders to “not sleep before the attending nurse arrives for the final diagnosis.”

(You think they might have enjoyed playing caretaker a little too much.)

With a lot more effort than you care to admit, you painstakingly remove your bloodstained clothes until you're down to your underwear, before draping yourself in a large, red, silk robe. A hot shower sounds heavenly to your sore muscles, but the soft mattress is calling to you more so you head straight to bed.

With nothing else to occupy yourself with, you prop your head on a mountain of pillows – to keep yourself relatively upright – and let out a sigh.

Tonight had been a shitshow. All you wanted was something to snack on while you binge through the last season of the show you were watching back at your apartment; you never thought a late-night run to the store just a few blocks away would result in… this. If not for Sylus’ intervention, you’re sure you'd be leaving with a lot more than a couple of scrapes. If not worse.

You're lost in your own thoughts when short, successive raps on the door catch your attention. It swings open before you have the chance to pipe out a, “come in!”

Speak of the devil.

Sylus enters the room, not a hair out of place. You notice that he’s changed into a casual, brown sweater and a pair of dark-washed jeans. His eyes meet yours, tightly-controlled expression relaxing as he crosses the room towards the side of your bed, wasting no time.

“How are you feeling?”

“Still pretty sore, but Luke and Kieran already handled the worst of my injuries,” you answer, making a move to sit up. Sylus tuts disapprovingly, gentle as he puts a hand on your chest to prevent you from moving any further. He sits gingerly on the edge of the mattress, careful not to jostle you. Once fully settled, he let out a deep sigh.

“You had me worried for a moment there, kitten.” He admits, a slightly rough edge to his voice as emotion seeps into it. He regards you intently, like he’s trying to convince himself that you’re here, safe.

Your hand reaches out towards his face. Without missing a beat, he leans in to nuzzle your palm, eyes closing shut. He reminds you of a big wolf, unbridled fire simmering beneath the surface, yet tame in the presence of his handler.

“I’m fine now, thanks to you,” you assure him with a lopsided smile. “Give my thanks to Mephisto, as well. Tell him he gets a pass on the stalking this time.”

Sylus opens his eyes, a hint of amusement and something else you can’t identify flickering through. “Oh, sweetie. You’ll be lucky if that bird gives you the privacy to bathe alone after tonight,” he jokes.

He’s joking. Right?

You eye him for a moment before deciding to let it go. You're too tired to argue.

Instead, you cautiously ask a question you aren’t sure you even want the answer to. “What happened after we left?”

Sylus expression doesn’t change except for the upward tick on the corner of his mouth; the same peculiar glint in his eyes coming across a little stronger. “They won’t be bothering you anymore. You don’t need to worry about anyone coming for you.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

He hums. “Do you really want to know?”

You stare at him, and he stares back at you placidly.

You purse your lips and look away. “Maybe not.”

Sylus breathes out a laugh. He gently grasps your chin between his forefinger and thumb, guiding your head to meet his gaze once more. A softer look on his face, inching closer to yours.

Your heartbeat slightly picks up. In your vulnerable state, you feel a welling desire to bare your feelings to the man in front of you. You want to tell him how relieved you felt when you saw him in that cursed basement, how he was able to quell your fears with just his presence alone the moment he appeared in a familiar haze of black and red. Like your own, personal, vindictive guardian.

Instead, you close the distance between the two of you, your lips meeting his.

Sylus groans quietly, a hand cupping your face as he leans closer to deepen the kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, savoring the feeling of contentment from being this close to him. You feel, more than you see, how his taut body loses the remaining tension from the events that transpired just mere hours ago, how he finally relaxes as he loses himself in you.

Very carefully, he eases you further down, cradling your head with one hand until it rests on a pillow. His lips drift to the corner of your mouth, trailing soft kisses up to the apples of your cheeks, your forehead, then to your nose.

He pulls back slightly, chuckling when you make a sound of discontent. When you open your eyes, you see him looking at you—half-lidded and tender.

In a low voice, he instructs, “Rest. You need it.”

The feeling of exhaustion pulls you in, but before you surrender to it, you remind Sylus, “I’m not that fragile, you know. You don’t have to worry too much.” You poke his cheek and he catches the offending digit to bite it affectionately. “I’ll be up and running in no time.”

He doesn't speak for a minute, considering your words. His mouth sets into a thin line before letting out a sigh.

“And if you get hurt again? What then?" He whispers so quietly, seeming as if he's talking to himself.

"I'll get hurt again, that's for sure," You tell him, matter-of-factly. "But really, that’s just an occupational hazard. I’m sure you realize."

“Love — what a terrible, little thing,” he muses, half-forlornly, half in jest. "I’d rip this cold heart out and throw it in flames if I could.”

While speaking, his hand finds its way into the tangles of your hair, gently running his fingers through the strands in a lulling manner. His lips landing on the crown of your head softly. Reverently.

You hum sleepily.

“Of course you would, Sy.”

_____

“You’ll be glad to know that the artifact you had your eye on back at the auction will be arriving this Wednesday.”

“Huh? But I thought it was already sold to someone else?”

Sylus shrugs. “I made a counteroffer.”

“You didn’t have to. I told you it was fine.”

“I know. But I also recall a certain someone telling me how much they wished they had placed a bid on it on our way back,” he pinches your cheek fondly. “Don’t worry about it, kitten. It’s yours.”

“Oh. Well– thank you,” you yawn in response, leaning your head to rest against his palm.

His thumb strokes your cheek. “Anything for you.”

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #sylus love and deepspace #sylus x reader #sylus x mc #sylus x you #lads x reader #sylus #sylus qin #love and deepspace fic

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athelari · 1 year ago

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Aw, thanks for the tag, Emi~!

I dunno who to tag, so whoever sees this and wants to do it: you have permission to say I tagged you. Go!

come do the "would you sit next to me" picrews i found on twitter (and tumblr) with me!!

https://picrew.me/ja/image_maker/1873485

https://picrew.me/ja/image_maker/230275

(no pressure) tagging: @kazemiya @ainescribe @thalaglia @dustofthedailylife @venusflwers @kaeffeinee @soleillunne @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @catcze @euniveve @snobwaffles @haliyamori @jingyuansbird @faesther @oveloof @heiayen @akiayama @https-furina @achy-boo @zhongrin @twanette @vennnnn-diagram @mhiieee @realkavehgf @yinyinggie ++ everyone else who wants to do it!! if you see this you're automatically tagged. no pressure though hehe

#reblog with #picrew #tag games #my bag's contents are normally even more boring than this lol #the flask is of water. no onigiri but metal chopsticks. not straight up money but nothing resembles my wallet here.#i don't even bring notebooks to work! most days all i need is my head really #except ballet. that's a fat bag full of uniform and shoes and stuff.

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madaboutmunson · 28 days ago

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Tag, You’re It

For the dailydrabble prompt 'Tag, You're It' by @strangerthingswritersguild

Ao3 Link

“No-no-no Sheepies. Eddie doesn’t do sports,” Eddie drawled lying back on the grassy hillside and pulling his sunglasses over his eyes.

There was a collective groan from the kids.

“It’s not even sports,” Dustin complained, “It’s more like...uh...like capturing a castle.”

“Capturing a castle?” Eddie scoffed, peering over the top of his sunglasses. “Aren’t you all a little old to be chasing one another around in a field, defending a tree stump?” He was aware of how hypocritical this was, only a few weekends ago he had been charging around a forest defending a tree stump of his own, albeit in character.

A frustrated blush rose to Mike’s face, “It’s not like that. It’s timed and-and there's a prize. Well two. And if you capture the stump you add a rule.”

“A prize?” Eddie yawned and leaned back on his hands on the grass.

“You’re not selling this,” Lucas huffed at Mike.

“Sinclair’s right you’re not. Be Gone!” Eddie sighed wearily and waved them away.

“Come on Eddie it’s embarrassing out there, the girls have Steve on their team,” Dustin whined.

“He’s only playing to spite me,” Mike grumbled folding his arms.

“He asked if we wanted some help, and genius Mike here laughed and said he had too much hairspray in to be on the boy’s team,” Lucas griped, “Now he’s kicking our ass, especially with his stupid rules.”

“Stupid rules?” Eddie asked with a deeper sigh. He was not interested in the game itself but he figured they weren’t moving, so he might as well get the gossip.

“Every time he gets the stump he makes up a rule so none of us can tag him,” Mike scowled.

“Huh? You can make up a rule that you can’t be tagged? Sounds like a glaring pit fall in the rules system here,” Eddie chuckled.

“No. He’ll say we can only tag him if we compliment him, or tell him he’s the best, or sing, or something,” Lucas added.

“Sounds pretty easy to me?” Eddie said looking between the three high-schoolers pausing for them, but its clear all the running had put their brains out to lunch, “Just say the thing.”

“NO WAY!” They yelled in unison.

“If you wanna win, sometimes you gotta swallow your pride guys. Now if you could stop casting your shadows so I can catch some rays, and take your putrid aromas with you, that would be splendid. Thanks.”

The three of them huddled up. Eddie could hear them muttering.

“What if we got you some beers?” Dustin asked, “Or a new D&D module?”

“Where are you pipsqueaks gonna get alcohol from?” Eddie laughed.

“The Christmas stash my mom has, she won’t notice anything is missing, Nancy, has taken a whole vodka bottle from it before,” Mike replied.

Eddie sat up, “I’m listening. Why do you wanna win so badly anyway?”

“At first it was for a bag of candy and who gets to choose the next film at the movies, but now we just really wanna beat Steve, he’s mocking us out there.”

Eddie peeked around the trio and true enough Steve Harrington looked pretty damn pleased with himself, and pretty damn cute. He was wearing very fitted athletic shorts and a snug white tank top that clung to his broad shoulders, as anyone in their right mind would being doing that close to Steve, sweat patches making it almost translucent in places, with his chest hair poking out the top. If that wasn't bad enough he was celebrating by flexing his muscles to mock the boys. Eddie took a deep inhale of breath, because he didn't realise he had been holding it.

“Alright, I’ll win it for you, but I don’t wanna hear a peep out you three begging me for shit the rest of the summer. Got it?”

They nodded in unison as Eddie got up, dusted off his denim cutoffs and tank top and pushed his sunglasses into his hair.

“Let’s take down a King,” Eddie grinned with malevolence.

Steve frowned as they approached the field again, “Munson? You joining us?”

“Yeah, thought I’d even the teams out. I heard the numbers were uneven?”

“And you’re the one to bring balance to the game?” Steve asked raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Eddie said confidently, with his hands on his hips.

A laugh bubbled out of Steve getting louder until he was doubled over.

Eddie’s lip twitched, but he keeps his cool, “Well are we playing or what?”

The teams spaced out, and Eddie flexed his fingers, and bolted for the stump as soon as Robin blew the whistle.

His team mates flanked him but each of them fell, tackled by Max, El, and Erica.

Just as Eddie was about to leap for the stump Harrington beats him to it.

“Freeze!” Robin shouted and Eddie sneered at being stuck in place, “Go ahead, Steve.”

Harrington tapped his chin thoughtfully, “You can only tag me if you recite me a poem.”

There was a collective groan, but Eddie grinned.

“Ok unfreeze,” Robin called out, and Eddie hopped up on the stump crowding Steve.

“Roses are red, Violets are blue, Sugar is sweet,” he said smoothly before looking over Steve, “But not as sweet as you big boy.”

Steve didn’t budge, looked confused at Eddie.

“Stump is Eddie’s,” Robin officiated.

“No that’s didn’t even rhyme properly!” Steve complained at Robin.

“Poetry doesn’t have to rhyme,” Eddie smirked.

“Yeah it does!” Steve frowned.

“Steve I made my ruling. Eddie gets the stump, and the longer you stand there whining the more time you waste. You’ve got less than five minutes left.”

Steve huffed down his nose and stomped back to his starting position on the field.

“Eddie, your rule?”

“Uh that’s easy you have to tell me I’m real pretty.” He smiled wide and batted his eyelashes, as the girls rolled their eyes.

Robin shook her head but blew the whistle anyway. The others charged towards the stump. Harrington was way too fast for anyone to get there before him, and he slapped Eddie’s leg with his hand.

“Tag, stump’s mine,” Steve said.

Eddie looked down on him with glee, “Uh-uh you gotta say it.”

Steve’s face was a picture, contorting with effort as he looked up at Eddie, “YOUREREALPRETTY” he said quickly and weirdly loudly.

Eddie tossed his hair with his hand, “I didn’t know you cared Harrington.” Steve blushed hard. He smiled toothily and hopped down from the stump sauntering back to his starting position with no complaint, he knew the clock was ticking.

“What are you doing?” Dustin said through gritted teeth, “You said you’d win.”

“Oh but I am,” Eddie smirked and gestured to a confused looking Steve and Robin tapping her watch at him.

“Ok! Ok. It’s hard to think of one. Alright! Geez! You have to say...uh...you have to say I’m the smartest man in the universe.” Steve said and gathered up the girls for a huddle and pointed at Eddie.

Robin blew the whistle, and Eddie nimbly dodged the flying tackles from the girls. They were fast, but Eddie had that feral energy coursing through him now. He got to the foot of the stump and spanked Steve’s backside. “Tag,” he said slyly and grabbed onto Steve’s hips to hoist himself up onto the stump.

He looked right into Steve’s eyes, “It’s my stump, smartest man in the universe,” punctuating his words with a wink.

Steve didn’t say anything, just stared, dropped off the stump, and went back to the starting position. Eddie knew he’d rattled him and the next thing Steve wouldn’t do. No way.

“Eddie! Rule?” Robin said a little exasperated

“A kiss,” Eddie said.

“No way there are kids here!” Robin said.

“I didn’t say they had to kiss me directly, they can blow me a kiss”

Robin turned to the kids. They were all yelling at her about the time and didn’t seem to care.

“Alright, but for the record, I’m against this” she reluctantly blew the whistle, and just like Eddie predicted Steve was thrown, he was tackling the boys hoping one of the girls would head for the stump but they wouldn’t go for it.

Eddie looked smug, striking a mock-heroic pose as he flexed his much smaller, toned muscles with theatrical pride, fully aware of the irony. He grinned to himself, already picturing how he was going to be sipping cocktails on the porch tonight. His thoughts were broken by an angry Erica screaming, “Just do it sailor man! Go over there and blow that long haired freak a kiss!”

“We’ve only got ten seconds left!” Max complained shoving Mike to the floor.

“Yes Steve I don’t want to watch the same movie all summer,” El said.

The boys understood the assignment and made kissy noises at Steve to mock him.

Eddie rocked on his heels with a huge smile as he watched the last few seconds tick down.

Until he felt a slap on his hand and he was confronted with a furious Steve

Eddie raised his eyebrows with confidence, “Well Howdy there Big b-“

And before he knew what was happening, he heard a collective gasp and “Steve’s stump! That’s time, come on nerds,” Robin added.

Eddie felt pressure on his lips, heat on the sides of his face. Steve was kissing him and was grabbing his face. He was rendered speechless. Steve smiled. Eddie suddenly felt hands on his shoulders as he was pushed off the stump and landed on his ass with a thud, almost as hard as his heart was hammering in his chest.

He could hear the boys complaining and the girls cheering. He shrugged at them in apology, heart pounding and face burning, trying to suppress the chaos spiralling in his chest from that kiss. He pulled down his sunglasses and quickly tried to walk back to his van, before he had a public crisis.

He was nearly at his sanctuary when he heard the rapid footsteps on the gravel path behind him, “Hey! Wait up!”

Eddie’s stomach dropped to the depths of the abyss, twisting with something hot and familiar. Dread, maybe, or anticipation. He couldn't tell. He could run, but that would look worse. He stopped and turned on his heel.

“You didn’t shake my hand,” Steve frowned a little out of breath.

“What?” was all Eddie could manage.

“We beat you, we're supposed to shake hands after. No hard feelings. Sportspersonship stuff.” Steve tried again, extending his hand towards Eddie.

“Oh, yeah. No hard feelings here. It was literally just tag, man. You’re good.” Eddie laughed it off, eager to get away.

“You won’t shake my hand? Is it because of what I did?” Steve asked and Eddie could hear the shame in his voice, and he couldn’t have that. Not with those sad puppy dog eyes looking so wounded at him.

“Look. I set the rule. You just wanted the win real bad,” Eddie said, trying to sound breezy, though his voice wavered just enough to betray the heat still lingering on his cheeks. "It’s not a problem,” Eddie said and extended his hand.

Steve's smile brightened as they shook on it but as Eddie tried to let go, he found Steve gripping his hand tightly.

“You okay, Steve?” he asked and found himself pulled flush with Steve’s chest, their faces an inch apart. As they collided he was met with the full Harrington experience. The beauty marks, the crooked smile, the flecks of gold in his eyes, the soft swoop of his hair, the heat from his body, and that scent of sun lotion, cologne and sweat. It's enough for him to forcefully replant his feet, so he didn't collapse with how overwhelmed he felt.

“I would have done it sooner without a crowd,” Steve said gently.

“Shook my hand?” Eddie asked nervously, confused but he knew what Steve was getting at.

“If you ever want one again just give me a call,” Steve smirked, leaving a frazzled Eddie standing slack-jawed as he jogged back to the others.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddiemunson #steddie fanfiction #steve x eddie #fanfiction #madaboutmunson #strangerthingswritersguilddailydrabble #madaboutmunsondrabble

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yuulettte · 8 months ago

Text

"𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫?!"

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✧ദ്ദി( ˶^ᗜ^˶ )

✰ Tags: gn!reader x various JJK men, fluff, reader has a cold oh NOOOO!!, sfw, just sugary sweet

✰Characters: Gojo, Yuta, Yuji, Geto, Megumi, Nanami

✰ A/N: I tested positive for covid so I decided to be self indulgent.. First time writing hcs for most of these boys ( ´ ▽ ` ) I apologize in advance

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You tell him not to come near you out of habit, but he reminds you about his limitless technique! Can germs touch him? Who knows~

Long movie watching sessions, he'll buy you whatever you want to eat. Shoko told him to make sure you're hydrated, so he might force you to drink. Good luck!

Still manages to make you laugh with his antics. He'll wave his hands over you, using that eccentric tone, "Get better~ get better~!" as if it'll magically heal you

One time you catch him reading articles online on how to take care of a sick partner. The expression on his face is that of pure focus

He eventually gets fed up and says something about how 'the strongest never gets sick!' And thus turns off his technique to cuddle with you. He catches your cold the next day LOL

Guess even the strongest isn't immune to flu season

𝐘𝐮𝐭𝐚 𝐎𝐤𝐤𝐨𝐭𝐬𝐮 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Attentive in every way. Is absolutely unafraid of getting sick. He always ends up catching whatever bug you have because he takes care of you no matter what

Runs you warm baths. He'll help you wash, dry your hair, and get dressed.

Rubs your back if you're feeling unwell, even when you're not sick ( ´ ▽ ` )

"What do you need? I'll go get it for you. Is there a dish you'd like for me to cook?"

He's an insanely good care taker (no surprise)

Has a habit of buying you plushies whenever you get sick, so your bed is over taken by them after a few years of dating. It's an army.. Or so you call it!

Will give you that sad puppy look if you refuse to let him hold you, even if it's out of love. He just wants to make you feel better

Doesn't let anyone else enter the house unless it's your family, he's your boyfriend and so it's his responsibility to take care of you! (he's protective)

𝐘𝐮𝐣𝐢 𝐈𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Will show up at your place with a bag full of medicine and goodies

Also doesn't care about catching whatever you have.

"I've got a super good immune system, so it's no problem!"

It's true too, what takes you a week to get over he'll tank in two days. It's actually kinda scary

He'll do whatever he can to make you laugh. And if you can't, then he'll comfort you

You'll have video game tournaments in your bed, and by the end he's always curled around you like a guard dog. The both of you fall asleep like that often

He'll wipe the sweat from your forehead and give you a cooling pad when you wake up as an apology :'D

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

He's not very good with germs, so he might keep his distance if you have a nasty virus

He still really cares! Just may approach you with a mask and some anti bacterial

Lots of praise. Reminds you that it'll be okay, you'll feel better soon and he'll make sure of it

"You'll feel better soon my love, don't worry. Just drink this,"

He'll sooth you with his voice to help you fall asleep.

Like Satoru, he'll ask Shoko for advice on how to care for you. He takes to it more naturally, though. It's the dad vibes! Care taking is in his DNA

You find yourself getting sick way less often when spending tons of time with him. He just has that sort of aura?

𝐌𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Not the most emotionally attentive, but he'll come over and bring magazines/books for you to read and some medicine

Will sit with you in silence. He doesn't want you to hurt your throat from forcing yourself to talk

If you'd like, he'll summon his shadow dogs for you to cuddle with. He'd do it himself but he doesn't want you to feel sweaty

He's surprisingly strict about what you eat. It has to be homemade and full of nutrients

He cooks recipes that Tsumiki taught him for you ✧ദ്ദി( ˶^ᗜ^˶ ) they're delicious!

Even if he doesn't show it outwardly, he's honestly extremely worried. He wants you to get better as soon as possible!

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

He takes time off work, you're his number one priority. He WILL be the one nursing you back to health

Husband material. He knows all of your favorite sick foods and most effective medications

Firm about you getting rest. "Please, allow me honey," and it's you literally reaching for a cup of water

He cooks meals that are easy on your stomach. Took the time to educate himself on what vitamins to give you

Will likely also catch your sicky, but he honestly doesn't mind because that means more time off with you.

The two of you will be wrapped around each other in bed while he reads to you, both with wet towels on your foreheads <3

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

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mrgoldmc26 · 2 months ago

Text

Wonyoung's Wild Night

Tags: Gangbang, blowbang, interracial sex, airtight, anal sex, dirty talk, lots of facials, honestly just Wonyoung getting passed around like a slut by 5 BBC's

Word Count: 10.1k

A/N: This was the first chapter of my K-Pop Sluts series that I have on AO3. I wrote it months ago, and as you are about to see, it has lots of pictures. I really like including pictures in my stories because I just think it gives a nice visualizer...plus, who doesn't like to look at Wonyoung?

With that being said, I do realize that it's a little bit too many pictures...Like I said at the start, I wrote it months ago, and I have been including less and fewer pictures in my chapters (you can notice this on my Lisa chapter), but I didn't feel like removing any from this one because it's how I wrote it months ago. But yes, you will see fewer pictures in my chapters going forward. For crying out loud, I found out that the pic limit is 30 per post...I had 31 in my AO3 chapter, lmao.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy the chapter.

The following is a Fan Fiction and should be treated as such.

It was a dark, chilly night under the sky of San Francisco, California, with the moon dipping in and out of the clouds. Wonyoung, fresh off her concert with IVE in Oakland, was hoping to have a nice time at a party, alongside her friend, Steven. He was this friend, that she has been seeing for a while now, and has been inviting him for her shows, but she has really never done anything intimate with him, mainly because he was too shy, and always seemed to cut off any advances Wonyoung attempted on him.

She was hoping that it would all change tonight by getting him loose. They arrived at the compound, where the party was already in full swing. Loud music everywhere, people dancing and drinking, and having a good time.

"Gosh, these songs suck. They should be playing our songs. They are much better."

"I'm not sure your songs are appropriate for a party like this, Wony."

"Really? You are not taking my side, Steven?"

"I'm sorry. You're right. They should definitely be putting your songs."

"Good. Go fetch me a drink. And grab one for yourself too."

"Wony, I don't really like to drink alcohol. And I also don't think you should be drinking alcohol too. Something could happen. It's bad for your health."

"Are you actually fucking serious???"

"I'm sorry, but yes, Wony. An idol like you shouldn't be drinking alcohol."

"Listen to what I fucking told you, and go bring me a fucking drink. NOW!"

"And don't forget yours too, Steven...Ughhh. I'm going to sit down by the pool. Don't take too long. I'm thirsty."

"Yes, Wony. Is there anything you want, in particular?"

"Surprise me...for once in your life..."

Wonyoung walked towards the pool, and sat on a couch nearby. She looked in front and saw millions of city lights and the dark, cloudy sky just above them. She decided to step up her game, in order to finally bag Steven, and so she removed her jacket, exposing her skinny arms.

After a few minutes of waiting, Steven finally came back with the drinks.

"Ughhh, what took you so long?"

"I'm sorry, Wony. I couldn't really decide once I got there."

"Goshhhh, why do you apologize after everything I say."

"I'm so..." Steven was about to say, but a sharp look from Wonyoung stopped him midway. She took the drink from his hand and started sipping it away.

"You know, Wony...you shouldn't really be without your jacket on a cold night like this. You might get sick."

"Reallyyy??? Goshhh, stop being concerned for me all of the fucking time."

"I'm sorry, Wony. I can't help it." Steven said, making Wonyoung angry in the process.

"Also, people could look at you and take photos of you. You shouldn't let people see you like this...drinking and showing off your skin."

"What if I want them to see me like this? What if I want you to see me like this?"

"I...I don't really know what to say, Wony."

"That's your problem...you never know what to say."

"I think we should leave this place. I don't like it in here. It's also getting late."

"You can't actually be serious. We literally just arrived..."

"Yeah, but I'm kinda getting sleepy."

"That's it. I've had enough. You want to go? Go!"

"Wony...I...I'm sor.."

"Don't you fucking dare say you're sorry."

"Just leave alone, Steven. I don't really care anymore."

"But I'm your ride."

"I'll call an Uber. Stop fucking worrying about me all of the time."

"You should really stop swearing, Wony. People could catch you, and it would be all over the internet."

"Steven...honestly...go fuck yourself. Leave me alone."

"But..."

"GO AWAY!!!" Wonyoung loudly told him, making him slowly turn away, as he walked out of the compound and went into his car.

"Fucking dumbass...why do I have such a shitty taste in guys." She thought to herself.

Wonyoung put her hands around the side of her head and just stayed like that for minutes, looking down at the pool and the reflex of the moon on the water. She was almost ready to get up and leave when she was suddenly approached by a group of 5 black guys.

"Oh, great....just what I needed...let me guess...you are all fans and want my autograph. Did I get it right?"

"Oh, wait...maybe you all want a photo with me, so you can show it to all your friends. Is that it?"

"Damn Wonyoung...never would've guessed you were this bitchy. I thought you were more sweet and kind, but I guess we were all wrong. We are indeed all fans of you, but we didn't come here to ask you for anything."

"I...ughhhh...I've just had a rough couple of minutes."

"We saw what happened from a distance, and it looked like you were arguing with a guy. We just wanted to ask you if you are doing alright."

"Not really, to be honest." Wonyoung responded.

"Who was that guy anyway?"

"Steven. He's...was....was a friend. A lame friend that was simply a little bitch that never made a move on me."

"Really? I don't believe that. I bet you get hit everywhere you go."

"I do...but not by him...not once."

"Am I not attractive enough?"

"Of course you are, girl. You are the most beautiful woman on the planet."

"It was a rhetorical question, guys...of course I'm hot...I mean...look at me!!!"

"Steven is probably gay, or something like that." A dude said.

"Yeah...maybe. Fuckkkk. What a shity night." Wony said.

"Do you guys have any idea how hard it is to be an idol?"

"I barely get any chances to have fun, and the one time I finally can have some fun and maybe a little action, he acts like a fucking overprotecting wimp."

"I mean...the night is still young...you can still have some fun..." One of the guys said, with a smirk on his face. It was only at that point that Wonyoung started connecting the dots, and understood what they really wanted, and the real reason they were talking to her in the first place.

"Fun...you say?" Wonyoung asked, slightly tilting her head up with curiosity.

"Yes. You can have a great time with us."

"Yeah? What would you guys do to make sure I have some fun?" Wonyoung asked, as she put her hands on the thighs of the guys' sitting right next to her and slowly started caressing them.

"Well, we would definitely hit on you, unlike that other loser."

"I would love that. I love when guys hit on me. When they drool all over me, because they can't handle how hot I am."

"What else? What else would you do to me?" She asked, as she looked at them and their strong arms coming out of their shirts. They were all so hot, and they acted completely differently towards Wonyoung, than Steven did.

"We would make you feel so good. Like, no one has ever made you feel before."

"Oh...really? Do tell." Wonyoung said, as she kept massaging the guys' thighs and moving her hands closer and closer to their crotches.

"We would start by kissing you and touching your body, and then we would slowly remove your clothes." One of them said, as the two guys sitting next to her started touching her thighs.

"Hmmmm....and then?" Wonyound asked, biting her lips.

"Then we would put you on your knees, and feed you all of our cocks, until you choked on every single one of them." Another guy said, as Wonyoung felt his hands going up her dress, and touching her pussy over her panties.

"Oh, fuckkkk...continue please." She said, moaning at every word they said.

"After taking our cocks down your throat, we would take turns fucking every single one of your precious tight little holes, over and over again."

"I need that!...I need it so much! Keep going, daddy!" Wonyoung begged, as the words that they were saying were almost as pleasurable as the fingers that were now inside her.

"And finally we would cum all over that pretty face of yours."

"Oh my god, I want it so badly. I want all of your cum on my faceeeeee."

"Please fuck me. Right now!!!"

"Is that what you want, Wony?"

"Yes...I want all of you guys to be my daddy."

"We can be your daddy for the night, if you promise to be our little cumslut."

"I promise! I will be your little cumslut!!!"

"I'll be your personal cumdumpster."

"I just really want all of your cocks and all of your cum on my face."

"I can't believe an idol like you is this desperate for cocks."

"I'll gladly show you just how desperate I am, daddy. Show me the way to the bedroom."

The guy in front of her smiled, before picking her up from the couch and putting her on his shoulder, as he proceeded to walk inside the house, walking past several large crowds of people with Wonyoung on his shoulders, and the other 4 guys walking just behind them. Anyone could've so easily recognized Wonyoung, and everyone they walked past easily understood what was about to happen to Wonyoung.

As soon as they got upstairs and into a room, the guy carrying her threw Wonyoung onto the bed, and she quickly got on her knees and started taking off her clothes, until all she had left was her bra and her panties. The guys also started taking off their clothes, including their shirts and their pants.

"Take those pants off, daddies. I'm waiting for your cocks. Show me what you have in there." Wonyoung told them, as they removed the belts holding their pants, and then took them off. She was now facing their massive bulges in their underwear, and she was already licking her lips.

"Mmmm, I bet you guys have the biggest cocks I've ever seen."

"I don't think you're ready to see our sizes, Wony..."

"Probably not, but I really need it. I want it."

"I'm so fucking horny for your cocks."

She could see the five black guys staring at her, and their crotches were getting bigger and bigger, the more Wonyoung used her mouth and words to tease them.

The guys dropped their boxers, revealing their hard, big, veiny, throbbing, long black cocks, that made Wonyoung drool, as she stared at them with her mouth agape.

"You like what you see?"

"Uh huh." Wony said, unable to not only come up with something to say, but also unable to take her eyes away from their big black cocks.

"Do you want our cocks, baby?"

"Yes daddy! I want them all in my mouth."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! C'mon...give it to me!"

"Ok. But only if you beg for it."

"Please give me your cocks, daddy. I'll do anything for them." Wonyoung begged, as they hopped on the bed, and surrounded Wonyoung. Their massive, throbbing, veiny cocks just a few inches away from her face.

"Show us how desperate you are."

"Put them all on my face, and I'll show you how desperate I am for your black cocks."

"I want these massive black cocks all over my face."

The guys did what she asked for, and started rubbing their cocks all over Wonyoung's face. Rubbing their precum all over her cheeks, and their cocks over her lips. Wonyoung couldn't help but giggle, as the tips of their cocks touched her skin.

"Fuck yes...this is soooo hot. More...keep doing this." Wonyoung demanded, opening her mouth and sticking out her tongue.

They did as she said, and continued smacking her face with their hard cocks. Slapping her with their cockheads and rubbing them over her lips.

"More, please! Rub your big dicks all over my face."

"Rub them harder. Make them leak precum all over my pretty face." Wony said, as she felt one guy rub his balls all over her lips and her nose.

"Yes, daddy...that's it. Use me like a slut. Like a worthless cumslut."

"That's exactly what you are. Nobody likes you for your singing or your dancing. They all like you because you look like a perfect doll."

"People only like you because you are hot. That's why all those fans scream for you."

"That's true. Everything you guys are saying is true. I would be nowhere if I didn't look like this."

"They wish they could be here, using your naked body for their pleasure, but instead we are the ones who get to do that."

"I bet none of them have bigger cocks than you guys, so I'm happy that you are the ones that will use my body tonight." Wony said, as she started kissing the tips of their black cocks, one by one, as she also used her hands to massage their balls.

"You want that, don't you, Wony?"

"Yessssss...I want to be used like a fuckdoll by your big black cocks."

"I'm the hottest female idol in the world, and I need to be treated like the hot slut I am."

"Tell us how much you want our big black cocks, and we will treat you like the naughty little slut you are."

"Yesssss, I want your cocks. I want them all. I want them in my mouth. In my pussy. In my ass. All over my face."

"Tell us, what a slut you are!!!" One guy, said, slapping her ass with immense strength, leaving a big red mark.

"OH MY GOD, FUCKKK...I'm a little slutty idol, daddy."

"I'm a dirty, desperate little slut for black cocks."

"My mouth is open. Please put your cocks inside my mouth, daddy." Wony said, opening her mouth as wide as she could, waiting for any black guy to slide his cock inside her mouth and down her throat.

One guy grabbed her by her hair, and started ramming his cock down her throat. Wonyoung could not believe the size of the cock that was in her mouth. Wony tried her best to fit all of his huge cock in her small mouth, whilst she reached behind her back and took off her bra.

"Damn, Wony. Those are some nice titties you have."

"I thought they would be smaller."

They weren't big or anything remotely close to that, but they were a pretty decent size, considering her body type.

Wony smiled with her lips still wrapped around a huge black cock, as she finally started using her hands to pleasure more guys at the same time. She put her hands around two cocks and started stroking them.

"Your hands are so tiny compared to my cock."

"Mmmm hmmm." Wony nodded, as she started deepthroating the first guy's dick.

"Oh fuckkkk. Damn. Your mouth feels so good." The guy groaned, as he kept shoving his dick down her throat.

"Fuck, daddy...your cock is so good." Wony said, when the guy eventually pulled his dick out of her mouth.

One guy put his hand on her chin and made her look up at him, before slapping her in the face with his dick, making her moan.

"Damn...you are such a naughty little slut, aren't you?"

"You want this dick, Wony? You wanna taste my cock?"

"I want your black cock inside my mouth, daddy. Let me taste it." Wony begged, and the guy slid his cock between her lips, until he was fully inside her mouth. He didn't stop until his entire black cock was deep down her throat, making her gag and cough.

"That's right, Wony. Deepthroat my cock, you fucking slut." He said, as he started furiously ramming his cock down her throat, making her spit saliva everywhere, even with her lips sealed tight around his dick.

"You want another one, Wony?" Another guy asked.

"Hmmm, hmmm" Wonyoung replied with her lips still around a thick, throbbing, black cock. He let her go after a couple more thrusts to the back of her mouth, and Wony got in a quick breather.

"Give me your cock, daddy. Let me taste it." She begged, before another cock was shoved down her throat.

"Fucckkk, I can't believe I'm having my cock sucked by Wonyoung."

"She's a really good cocksucking slut."

"You are, aren't you?"

"Hmmmm, hmmm." Wonyoung moaned in response.

"I'll bet a slutty bitch like you loves tasting black cock, don't you?"

"Yes, daddy. I love it."

"Good. Keep sucking it then, slut." He said, and Wony did just that, as she kept sucking every guy for a lengthy amount of time, before moving to the next big black cock that was put right in front of her pretty little face.

After every guy got their long turn with Wonyoung, the guys started taking quick turns with her mouth, sliding their big black cocks past Wonyoung's luscious lips, and fucking her tight, warm throat over and over again, for a couple of seconds, before swapping between themselves.

"You like that, Wony? You like being passed around like a slut?"

"Mmmm, hmmm. I love it. This is what I wanted. I love sucking your black cocks." Wonyoung said, looking at the guy who just had his dick in her mouth, as she gave his shaft a nice lick, before moving her lips on the side of his dick, and leaving a trail of saliva.

"Good. Now keep sucking them like the naughty little cumslut you are."

"Yes, daddy." Wonyoung said, as she proceeded to grab one of the cocks in front of her and started sucking it, bobbing her head up and down, while also moving her tongue around it.

"You look so hot with a cock in your mouth."

"Mmmm...it tastes so good." Wony said, as she started licking the tip, before going back down again.

"This is so hot. I love sucking big dicks." She said, in between sucks.

"You are doing a great job. Keep going, Wony."

"You guys have no idea how long it's been since I had cocks down my throat." She said, as stopped sucking his cock, and instead started stroking two dicks at the same time for a couple seconds, before moving on to the other guys' cocks, always trying to give the same amount of time to each one.

"A woman like me should be getting dicked on a daily basis, and not a single day should go by without having a cock in my mouth."

"Yeah? And what about the rest of your body?"

"It should be used as a toy for cocks. For the pleasure of the lucky guys I deem worthy of fucking me and my tight holes."

"And what about cum, Wony?"

"Oh my god, cum is like, my favourite thing in the whole world. I love feeling it inside me, and all over me."

"I need it. I crave it."

"If I could survive on cum, I would be the happiest girl in the world."

"My life would be so much better if I used cum as a replacement for my mascara."

"My face would look even prettier. Trust me, guys. I look amazing with cum on my face."

"Well, we'll see it later, won't we, Wony?"

"Of course, daddy. I can't wait to have all of your loads all over my face."

"Gosh, just thinking about it...it's making me so fucking wet. I need a cock inside me, right now!" Wonyoung said, as she stopped stroking their cocks for a moment, and quickly removed her panties and spread her legs, showing her perfect shaved pussy. She put two of her fingers on her slit and started rubbing it.

"That's right. Rub that tight little pussy for us."

Wonyoung put on an absolute show for the guys, as she moved her fingers around her pussy, spreading her lips open and letting the guys see the inside of her cunt, before she went back to playing with her clit, while also licking her lips as she couldn't stop staring at the 5 big black cocks in front of her, just hanging in the air. They looked so perfect and big, and Wonyoung tried to guess which one would be inside her first, which one would cause her to moan the loudest, and which one would give her the biggest load.

"Taste yourself, Wony."

"Mmmm...yes, daddy." She said, as she quickly removed the hand she was using to play with herself, and placed it in front of her mouth, as she started licking and sucking her own juices off her fingers.

"You really are a nasty little slut." One guy said.

"And sluts deserve to get fucked." Another one added.

"That's exactly what I want."

"I want to get fucked like the little slut I am."

"Yeah, Wony? How do you want it?"

"I want to get fucked on the bed, daddy. I want to get spitroasted."

"I want you guys to take turns and use me like your personal fuckdoll."

"And then I want you guys to fuck my pussy and ass at the same time, whilst someone is fucking my mouth."

"Anything else, princess?"

"Just daddy's cum, all over my face at the end." Wonyoung said, with a huge smile on her face.

"Alright, then. Let's get to it." One guy said, as he placed himself behind Wonyoung and immediately put his left hand on the back of her neck, pushing it down onto the mattress, alongside her head, as the other guys climbed off the bed and formed a line right in front of the edge of the bed, where her head was, and waited for their turn.

Wonyoung was on her knees, with her tits not only pressed against her knees, but also squished against the mattress, as both guys pressed their cocks against her holes.

"You ready, Wony?"

"Yes, daddy. Just feed me your cocks and pound me already." She said, before opening her mouth wide, as the guys didn't even waste one second, and pushed their cocks inside her mouth and her pussy, and started fucking her, not holding back at all.

"Oh fuckkkk...Wony..."

"Oh my fucking god...you guys need to try this pussy. She's so fucking tight." He moaned, as he kept pounding away at her.

"Really bro?" The guy fucking Wonyoung's mouth asked.

"Yes. It's incredible. She has the tightest pussy I have ever fucked." He said, before he started to fuck her much faster than before, as he felt his cock get squeezed by her pussy, which was dripping with juices.

Wonyoung kept moaning, even with a cock buried deep down her throat, as she felt her tight pussy get stretched by the girth and length of the dick, and her throat being filled by another huge dick.

"I bet this is what your fans want, isn't it? To fuck you however they want, and for you to be their perfect little slut."

"That's why they pay hundreds of dollars for a single concert ticket, just in the hope that somehow, someway, they get a chance to fuck you."

"Actually...no. All of your fans are shy, weak and pathetic, just like Steven. Your fans would probably rather see us destroy you and your tight holes with our big black cocks than them with their tiny dicks."

All Wonyoung could do, was stay there, in an uncomfortable, yet pleasurable position, taking their big black cocks over and over again, feeling her holes being used by the biggest cocks she had ever seen in her life.

"Fuck, I need to swap right now, or else I'm going to cum inside her pussy. This shit is way too fucking tight for my dick." He said, massively slowing down his thrusts so that he didn't blow his load so soon, but he still kept his cock inside, slowly pushing it back and forth, as he still wanted to feel her tight pussy, and the warmth that surrounded his cock.

"Damn, dude. Then I think I'll take her pussy next. Just let me fuck her mouth a little bit longer." One guy said, as he grabbed a fistful of her hair, and started furiously facefucking Wonyoung, not giving a single care in the world.

"Fuck, your mouth feels amazing, but I think it's time I stretch that sweet pussy of yours." He groaned, before slowly pulling his dick out and making his way around her, and towards her pussy. As soon as he got there, the guy that was fucking her pussy pulled out, but not before slapping her ass harshly, leaving yet another red mark on her cute little butt.

"Have fun. This pussy is fucking great." He said, as he joined the 3 other guys that were in front of Wony's face, going to the back of the line as he awaited his time to fuck her throat.

"Ahhhhh fuck. That was amazing, you guys."

"I loved having both your cocks sliding in and out of my mouth and my pussy."

"Can't wait for the rest of you guys." She said, licking her lips in anticipation, whilst looking at the massive black cock right in front of her face.

"C'mon. Put your dicks inside me already. I get cold when I don't have cocks inside me. I need them to warm me up." Wonyoung said, as the guy in front of her pressed his cocks against her lips, and she gladly opened her mouth and let him slip his dick inside her, and start fucking her mouth, while the guy behind her slammed his dick into her cunt, and started thrusting away, making Wonyoung moan around the dick in her mouth.

"I can't believe this is happening."

"Wonyoung is getting spitroasted by us and our big black cocks."

"FUCKING HELL...you were not kidding when you said her pussy was the tightest you had ever fucked." The guy behind her said, as he tried his best to keep thrusting his cock in and out, as his dick was being squeezed by her pussy.

"Fuck her harder. I want her to moan around my cock."

The guy behind her complied and started thrusting as hard and as fast as he could, feeling her tight pussy getting stretched and fucked, whilst also hearing her muffled moans around his friend's cock, as he fucked her mouth, going faster and deeper, with each passing second.

"Oh, fuckkkk...that's it, Wony. You look so fucking sexy, moaning with my cock in your mouth."

"I wanna hear how she moans when I fuck her as deep as I can go."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Just stop for a sec."

"Alright bro." He said, as he removed his cock from Wonyoung's mouth, and started stroking it in front of her face, whilst the guy behind her started ramming his cock as deep and as hard as he could, causing Wonyoung's moans to fill the room.

"Fuck...daddy...your cock is so fucking good inside me."

"Good girl. Take it. Take this fucking cock, you nasty little slut." He groaned, as he kept pounding her, his hips crashing into her ass, making it jiggle every time.

"Mmmm, that's right, daddy. I'm a nasty little slut for your cock."

"I'm a cumslut for all of your black cocks."

"Just keep fucking my tight little pussy, daddy."

"And you...I want you to slide that cock back inside my mouth. I want to slurp on it, until it's ready to go inside my pussy." Wonyoung said, before opening her mouth once again.

The guy in front of her slapped his cock on her tongue a couple of times, before pushing his dick past her lips, as Wony went right to work on his meaty cock, whilst his friend kept pounding her pussy with his cock.

"Ahhhhh fuckkk. So good."

"Your lips were made to be wrapped around my cock, Wony."

"Yes, they were. Your cock tastes so fucking good, daddy." Wonyoung said, whilst she stroked him for a couple of seconds, before she put his dick back in her mouth."

The guy put his hands on both sides of her face, and started facefucking her, his cock going in and out of her throat, as her mouth was basically a hole for him to fuck.

He then pinched her nose with his left hand, and used his right hand to hold her head, so that her head couldn't move, as he just started slamming his cock deep down her throat, going balls deep, and not stopping at all. Wony started struggling for air, but couldn't really move, and all she could feel was a cock lodged down her throat, and another one rapidly going in and out of her pussy.

After a couple of seconds Wonyoung started gagging, and the guy released his grip and let her go, as she took a couple of deep breaths.

"Ahhhh...ahhhh...do it...do it again, please. I want your cock deep down my throat again."

"I'm afraid if I do that again, I will cum down your throat, and if I remember correctly, you want my cum on your face, isn't that right?"

"Yes, daddy. I would love to swallow your load, but I do really want your cum on my face."

"That's what I thought. Well, I guess it's time for me to find out just how tight your pussy is."

"So tight. I want you to stretch it, daddy. Can you do that for me?" Wony asked, whilst biting her lip.

The guy didn't bother to respond, grinning instead as he made his way behind her, and waited for the guy that was fucking her pussy to stop and hop off the bed, giving him the "keys" to her tight little precious pussy.

"Beg for it, slut. Beg for my fucking cock, Wonyoung."

"Please, daddy. Please give me your cock."

"Give me your big black cock. I need it inside me."

"Stretch my tight little pussy, daddy."

He grinned once again, before he pushed his dick deep inside her, and started pounding away, fucking her tight pussy, making her scream in pleasure, as her eyes rolled in the back of her head, while her hands gripped the sheets as hard as she could, and the guys in front of her watched, and awaited their turn to not only fuck her mouth, but also her pussy.

"Daddy...ohhhh, yes...daddy...keep fucking me...your cock feels so good..." Wony moaned, whilst her breasts were being squished against the mattress, due to the force of the guy behind her, who kept ramming his cock deep and fast into her cunt.

"Ahhhhh...fuck...daddy...keep going. I'm so close."

"Yeah? You gonna cum for me, you filthy little slut?"

"Yessss, daddy. Keep fucking me, just like that. Make me cum all over your big black cock."

"Then cum, Wony. Cum on this big fucking cock."

"Ahhhhhh...oh fuuuckkk."

"Oh my fucking god...you're making me cum. I'm cumming, daddy..." Wony screamed, as she started shaking and squirming, whilst the guy kept pounding her, making her cum on his cock.

"Such a good girl, cumming on daddy's cock."

Wonyoung didn't even have time to recover or respond to him, because the guy in front of the line grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her forward, before pressing his dick against her lips and sliding it into her mouth.

"You like that, Wony? Being passed around all 5 of us?" He asked, as Wonyoung used her tongue to massage the underside of his shaft, whilst he kept slowly sliding it in and out of her throat.

"Yes, daddy. I love being a slut for all of your big black cocks." Wonyoung said in between sucks, as she felt the guy who had just given Wony her first orgasm of the night start slamming his cock once again into her wet, warm and tight pussy, making her moan even more, sending vibrations onto the cock in her mouth.

"You are so fucking pretty, Wony."

"So beautiful with my cock in your mouth."

"I know I look pretty with a dick in my mouth, but I also know I look even better when it's a long, hard black cock." Wonyoung said, before taking his dick deep in her mouth once again.

"Fuck...I love that dirty mouth of yours, Wony."

"Talk dirty to us, Wony."

"Tell us what a filthy little slut you are."

"Tell us how much you love getting fucked by our black cocks." He said, as Wonyoung let go of the dick, and gave him the nastiest, sexiest smile, ever.

"I love your black cocks. I'm addicted to them." Wonyoung said, as she started stroking his dick.

"I wish I could bring all of you to our tour, so that you guys could pass me around after each concert."

"I would love for you guys to fuck every single one of my holes after each concert and then dump your warm cum all over my body, my face and my tits." She said, squeezing her boobs with her arms.

"I would love if you guys fucked me just before a concert and for me to go out there and perform in front of thousands of fans with your cum dripping out of my pussy and my asshole."

"Yeah, I bet you would love that, wouldn't you?" He asked.

"Such a naughty little slut, you are." He added.

"I'm daddy's perfect slut."

"Gosh, keep stroking that cock, Wony, fuckkk...I can't wait to cum all over your face."

"It makes me so wet, just knowing that I'm about to be a cumdumpster for 5 huge black cocks. It turns me on so much."

"Fuckkk, Wony. You're the one who is turning me on, girl. I need to smash that pussy of yours right now."

"Hmmm...since you haven't been inside me yet, how about I let you fuck my ass instead?"

"Is it tighter?"

"Well, considering I have had 3 big black cocks stretching my pussy already, and 0 inside my ass, I would say so."

"I've never taken one so big in there, but I really want to try it, daddy. So please...put your cock in my ass, and fuck me as hard as you can."

"Alright girl. I'm going to destroy this little cute ass of yours." He said, reaching forward and smacking her ass, leaving another red mark on it.

"HEY? WHAT ABOUT ME, MAN? I HAVEN'T FUCKED YOU EITHER!" The guy right behind him yelled, as he joined him by his side, and now had Wonyoung right in front of him as well.

"That is right, you haven't." Wony said, as she reached out for both of their cocks and started stroking them.

"Like I said earlier, I want to get my ass and my pussy fucked at the same time, so how about I ride that cock of yours whilst he fucks my tiny little asshole?" She added, as she took his cock into her mouth, awaiting his answer.

"Oh fuck, girl...you don't have to ask me twice..." He moaned, letting Wonyoung suck his dick, whilst her hand was stroking the other, until she decided to switch and started sucking the other one.

"Hmmm, yummy. You two taste so good." Wonyoung said, licking her lips, before putting his cock in her mouth, and the other guy's cock in her hand, stroking him as fast as she could, whilst she bobbed her head up and down the cock in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it, tasting every inch of him.

"Ahhhh, fuckkkk...shit, Wony...you're too good at this."

"Mhmmm, I know." Wonyoung hummed, before deepthroating him and gagging around his cock for a couple of seconds, before releasing his dick, and stroking him, whilst she began deepthroating the other guy.

"Ohhhh shit, Wony. Just like that, girl. Just like that."

"Ohhhh fuckkk. I love going back and forth between your cocks."

"It feels...so...fucking...good. I love taking turns sucking both of them." She said, as she kept going back and forth, sucking and slurping on their cocks, and making the 2 guys moan in pleasure.

"I think they are ready to go inside my holes." Wony added, kissing both of their tips, before moving slightly backwards, so that one of the guys in front of her could lay down where she was previously.

He laid down, and Wonyoung got on top of him. She reached behind her and grabbed his dick, before guiding it towards her pussy. She then lowered her body, and his dick slid into her pussy, making her moan, whilst she slowly went down, and took all of his size into her cunt.

Wonyoung didn't even give a chance for the guy behind her to stick it in her ass, because she immediately started bouncing up and down on the dick inside her pussy, feeling it going deeper and deeper, and also brushing past her g spot, making her scream and moan like crazy.

"OH MY GOD, THAT FEELS SO GOOD. KEEP FUCKING ME, DADDY."

"I fucking love bouncing on your big black cock."

No words came out of his mouth, and instead he just reached his hands forward, and started playing with her tits, pinching her nipple and squeezing her soft breasts whilst she bounced up and down his shaft, the tip of his cock hitting the back of her wet pussy every time, stretching it even further, and causing her to scream and moan loudly, her cries of pleasure filling the room.

"Ayo...Wony...just stop for a sec. I want to put it in your ass." The other guy said.

"I'm sorry, daddy. I just got too excited. His cock is filling me so well, I just couldn't resist bouncing on it for a bit."

"It's alright...you're just a cumslut addicted to our cocks. I get it." He said, putting a hand on her face before kissing her luscious lips."

"I am, daddy. I'm so addicted to all of your cocks. I want them all."

"Beg for it, Wonyoung."

"Please, stick it in. Shove that big dick up my ass, daddy."

"I want you to destroy my ass, daddy. Please."

"Huuuuuh, boys...what do you say? I can't say no to our little slut, can't I?

"Fuck her ass, man."

"Fuck her as hard as you can."

"Make her our fucking anal slut."

He smiled, hearing the answers coming from his friends, before lining his cock with Wonyoung's tight little asshole, and slowly shoving his dick inside her.

"Ahhhh fuck. That feels soooo goooood." Wonyoung moaned, feeling both her holes being stuffed by their big dicks, whilst they were both inside her, as the one underneath her was also balls deep inside her pussy.

"You were not lying, Wony. This really is a tight little asshole."

"I need you to stretch it, please. I want it to be stretched as wide as possible."

"I can't wait for you to start fucking it."

"I want to be your anal slut, daddy."

"Fuck me hard, daddy. Pound my tight little asshole, please."

"Fuck, man. I don't know how tight that asshole is, but let me tell you something...this pussy is TIGHT! Didn't the three of them stretch it?" He said, trying his best to look backwards with Wony on top of him.

Wonyoung was so lost in the pleasure of having both of her holes stuffed at the same time, that she almost completely forgot about the three other guys that had already gotten their turns with not only her mouth, but also her pussy. She saw them slowly stroking their cocks, as they kept watching Wonyoung get pounded by their friends.

"C'mon guys...don't be shy. I know you're not shy...come here."

"I was starting to wonder if our little slut had forgotten about us, guys."

"Me? Never...I couldn't ever possibly forget about these big black cocks." She said, with a smile on her face, as she put her hands around two of their cocks and started stroking them.

"You guys like that? Like having your cocks stroked by me whilst watching your friends fuck me?"

"Yessss, baby. Fuck, your hands are so soft."

"Yeah, and the way you stroke them, it's fucking amazing."

"Keep talking dirty to us, Wony. Keep telling us what a slut you are."

"Ohhhh fuck. I am a slut. I'm a filthy fucking slut."

"I'm daddy's filthy little slut."

"Mmmmmm yeah, and this is exactly what filthy little sluts like me do. We take their daddy's big black cocks, and let them stretch our tight little holes, just like they are doing right now."

"And we like to get spitroasted, and double penetrated, and have their cum all over our faces, just like you guys will do with me, later." Wonyoung said, already fantasizing about having the guys' cum on her face.

"And you..." Wonyoung said, looking up to the right in front of her.

"I don't think I need to tell you what to do." She added, as she opened her mouth.

"No, you don't, girl." He said, as he slowly put his cock past her lips and gave full control to Wonyoung, letting her suck his dick at the pace she wanted.

The room was filled with moans and grunts from all the guys, as Wonyoung was pleasuring all 5 of them at the same time. The sounds of her cheeks getting clapped every time the guy behind her thrust his dick inside her ass, mixed with the sound of his friend's dick slamming in and out of her pussy, were not only echoing across the room, but that feeling, of their cocks going in and out of her holes was making Wonyoung moan loudly, which was obviously muffled, thanks to the cock in her mouth. All whilst she had her hands wrapped around the 2 last remaining cocks.

Wonyoung was impressed with herself. Not only from the way she was handling all 5 cocks at once, which was something completely new to her, but also how quickly she managed to turn around her horrible start to the night. She was almost laughing around the cock inside her throat, just thinking that had the night gone a different way, she would probably have her lips wrapped around Steven's tiny gay cock. But thankfully for her, it didn't. She was quite easily having the best night of her life, being passed around these 5 strong and hot black guys who were making her their personal cumslut.

"Fucking hell...will this pussy ever get a little bit more loose? Been fucking it for like 10 minutes now...I can't believe how tight you still are."

"Sorry, daddy. That's just how I was built..."

"I was made to take cocks, and I guess that, if you want your cock to feel less suffocated by my pussy, you're just gonna have to stretch me out."

"Fuck me harder, daddy. Make me take your big black cock."

The guy complied and started thrusting faster and harder into her, making her bounce on his cock, his pelvis smacking against her butt, her moans filling the room. Not wanting to be left behind, the guy fucking her ass also began going harder and deeper inside her, his hands tightly gripping her waist, as he was drilling her with his long hard dick.

"OH MY GOD...fuck me, daddies. Use me. Please, pound my holes harder." Wonyoung begged, as she started moving her hips, making sure to slam them backwards whenever a cock was going forward, thus meeting each other half-way and creating a much stronger impact.

"Just keep fucking me. I don't care how hard, just give it to me, daddy."

"You guys are so good. My holes are yours. Use them however you want."

"Do whatever you want with me. Just please make me cum again."

"Is that what our cumslut princess wants?"

"Yes, daddy. Make me cum on your big black cocks, ple..." Wony said, before being interrupted by a cock entering her mouth and her throat, making her gag around his length.

"Sorry, Wony...but your mouth is just too fucking sexy. I can't take it anymore."

Wonyoung just rolled her eyes back and smiled, before wrapping her tongue around his dick and bobbing her head up and down.

"You like that, baby? You like sucking daddy's big black dick, whilst your pussy and ass get destroyed?"

"Mhmm, hmmmm..." She hummed, nodding her head and sending vibrations throughout his body, making him groan and grip her hair tightly.

"I bet you can't go anywhere without dropping to your knees and sucking dicks. It's why you always have bruises on your knees, isn't it?"

"Hmmmm, hmmm..." Wony moaned around his dick, which was lodged in her throat.

"Whose dicks are you sucking, huh? Producers? Directors? Dancers? Sponsors? Fans? Which one is it, you fucking slut?" He asked, giving one final hard thrust to the back of her throat before releasing the grip on her head, letting her talk.

"All of the above, daddy. I suck any and every cock I come across."

"That's what I thought, you nasty fucking slut. How many of them have you sucked?"

"Too many to count, daddy. All you need to know is that your cocks are all way bigger than any of them." Wonyoung said, as she was still getting pounded as hard and fast as the 2 guys could, their cocks slamming in and out of her tight pussy and tight asshole, which were now stretched and loosened, allowing their dicks to slide in and out easily, but not any less pleasurable.

"You're such a good little whore for us, Wony. So good."

"Such a tight little body. So fuckable."

"Oh, yes...fuck yes...right there, guys. Don't stop. Give it to me harder."

Wony's eyes rolled up as she was being drilled from behind, her ass getting pounded by a massive cock, and her pussy getting fucked by a thick black cock.

"You guys are gonna make me cum again, soon."

"So fucking tight. Fuck, girl. You're squeezing my dick so hard, it's gonna be difficult for me not to cum inside you." The guy fucking her pussy said.

"I don't care. Fuck me however you want, but that load is ending on my face."

"Alright, Wony. Damn...such a spoiled little brat, aren't you?"

"Yes. I always get what I want, and right now, what I want is for you to keep fucking me until I cum, and then for you to cum on my face. Are we understood?" Wony asked, looking right into his eyes, with a very threatening look on her face. At least, the best one her cute, perfect face could make.

"Loud and clear, Wony. Now shut up and start bouncing on this cock." He replied, with a smirk on his face, as Wonyoung did exactly that, and started riding the guy, with the other still fucking her tight little ass. As her hands were free, she reached for the two cocks on either side of her and started jerking them off. She kept going at a fast pace, making sure their cocks were nice and ready for when their turn came to shoot their loads on her face.

Suddenly, the guy fucking her pussy started pinching her nipples, and before she could even react to it, she felt a hard cock slapping her across the face.

"Mmmmmm, oh my god, yes. Slap me, daddy. Hit me with your big fat black cock." She said, as he did just that, hitting her over and over again with his hard dick.

"You're not slapping me hard enough, daddy. Give it to me hard. Show me what a filthy fucking slut I am."

"Hit me like the naughty whore I am." Wony begged, before opening her mouth and sticking her tongue out, just as the guy's cock hit her in the face once more.

"Oh, shit...that's it. Right there, daddy. That's how you slap a bitch. Give it to me again. Hit me harder."

Wony's cheek stung after being hit, but that only made her hornier. The guy in front of her slapped her with his cock another couple of times, before he grabbed her chin and shoved his dick past her lips. Wonyoung was still being drilled from behind, whilst she was now choking on the guy's cock, as he was fucking her throat at a fast pace.

She had never done anything remotely close to what she was currently doing. It was the most intense and crazy thing she had ever done. The fact that she was letting herself be used and dominated by 5 big black guys, and letting them use her body as their personal sex doll, was not only turning her on, but making her feel more confident than ever. The way they were calling her names and degrading her was driving her wild, and she could feel herself getting closer and closer to another orgasm, with their huge dicks going in and out of her body.

It was too much pleasure to handle all at the same time for Wonyoung, and so she closed her eyes, and let herself go, cumming on the guys' dicks for the second time that night.

"Ah, she's cumming on my dick. I can feel her pussy clenching around my cock."

"That's it, Wony...keep cumming for us, baby."

"She's not the only one. Fuck, I'm close." The guy with fucking her mouth said, as he released the grip he had on her head, and started furiously stroking his cock right in front of her face.

"Oh fuck...daddy, yessss. Give me your cum."

"Paint my face, please!!!"

"Cum all over my face, daddy."

"Fuckkk, take it, Wony. Take all my fucking cum." He said, as Wonyoung stuck her tongue out, and felt multiple ropes of cum land across her face.

"Ahhhhh, yessss. Keep cumming on my face." Wony said, he shot the last droplets of cum towards her face, with the majority landing on her tongue.

"So fucking good...I love it. I want more of your delicious cum on my face, though."

"We will all give it to you, slut. You don't have to worry about it." The guy who had just cum all over her face said, before grabbing both of her hands, and pulling her off the dicks that were inside her holes.

"Damn, look at that gape. Come take a look at this." One guy said, appreciating the work he had done on Wony's ass.

"Now that's a nice little asshole. So wide open. Good job, man. I also did a great number on her pussy."

The guy put Wonyoung on her knees in front of him and the 2 guys that were already jerking off, and they were shortly joined by the 2 guys that had just fucked Wony's tight holes, as these 2 began stroking their shafts.

"Hmmm, keep stroking those big black cocks, boys." Wony said, looking towards the 5 of them, with a huge smile on her face, and her eyes rolling back, thanks to the feeling of having cum dripping down her gorgeous face.

"1 down, 4 to go, Wony. Whose cum do you want next?"

"Does it matter? I'm gonna end up taking all 5 loads on my face either way, so just come here and shoot your cum on my face, and make my pretty little face even prettier."

"Oh fuck, Wony...you're such a fucking cumslut for us, aren't you?" One of them said, stepping closer to Wonyoung, as he kept stroking his cock.

"Hmmmmm, yes. A cumslut for big black cocks and loads."

"Stroke that cock faster, daddy. Stroke it until you cum all over my face."

"Beg for it, Wonyoung. Beg for my fucking cum."

"Please, daddy. Give me your cum. Please cum on my pretty little face, daddy."

"Shoot your cum all over my face. I need it so badly!"

"I want to be drenched in all of daddy's cum."

"Fuck, Wony. Stop talking, and open your mouth." He said, as he grabbed Wony's head, and pulled her in, before pushing his cock down her throat and fucking her mouth for a good amount of time.

Wonyoung gagged on his cock, before he pulled it out, only to start jerking himself off once more, right in front of her face.

"You like being a good little whore for us, huh? You liked having us pass you around and use you as a fucktoy, didn't you?"

"Yes, daddy. I loved being used like a cumslut by you. By all of you."

"Wony....fuck, I'm gonna cum...I'm gonna fucking cum...oh, fuck, I'm cumming!!!" He said, just before he started shooting his cum all over Wonyoung's face, covering her skin with white streaks of his thick load.

"Thank you, daddy. Mmmm, that feels so good. I love being covered in your warm cum."

"So fucking sexy." The guy said, as he was now slowly stroking his cock, with the tip barely touching Wonyoung's face, the excess amount of cum slowly falling out of his dick, and on Wonyoung's lips and chin.

"C'mon...who's next? Who's painting my face with their delicious cum next?"

"Me, bitch. I'm so fucking close, slut." One guy said, as he stepped closer and started jerking off his hard cock right in front of her, as the other 2 were doing the same.

"C'mon...cum on my face, daddy. Let me have your cum, please."

"I need the cum that comes out of that big black cock all over my pretty little face, daddy."

"I want to be covered in cum!!!" Wony begged, before she quickly opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out, after she saw the first ropes of cum flying towards her face, catching her by surprise.

"Take my fucking cum, you cumslut."

"Yes, daddy. Keep cumming all over my face." Wony said, closing her eyes as the cum kept flying towards her, landing on her lips and mouth, some even hitting her eyelids, nose and forehead.

Wonyoung was almost completely covered in cum at this point, with only several small spots left to be filled. She grabbed the last 2 remaining cocks and started stroking them off as fast as she could.

"I'm so close, baby. Fuckkkk, keep going, Wony."

"Stroke those cocks for us, Wony."

"I'm gonna stroke them so well, until they explode all over me."

"You're doing such a great job, Wony."

"Thank you, daddy. I'm gonna milk these cocks dry, and make them cum all over me."

"Do it, baby. Please."

"I wanna see your cute face covered in my cum, baby."

"Yes, please. Cum all over my face, daddy."

"Fuck me, I can't hold it anymore. Close your eyes, Wonyoung. I'm gonna cum."

"Yesssssssssss, shower me with your warm cum!!!" She said, feeling the first few droplets of cum falling on her face, as the guy kept shooting his load all over her face, giving her multiple layers of cum. Wonyoung had so much cum on her face, that it was mostly dripping down her chin and falling on her tits and stomach.

"Oh, fuck me. That feels so good, daddy. I love it."

"Thank you, daddy. Your cum is so warm and sticky. It feels so good on my skin."

"Your welcome, slut." He said, slapping his cock on her tongue, before walking backwards a bit, leaving Wonyoung alone with the last guy.

"Well, well, well...looks like it's just the two of us..."

"You look so pretty with our cum all over you."

"Thanks, daddy. Now I think I deserve another taste of this thick black cock." She said, wrapping her lips around the tip of his dick and sucking on it, while both her hands were working the rest of his long shaft.

"Mmmmmm, you guys are all so big. And you taste so good. I bet I could suck you guys for hours, without getting bored."

"Yeah? I'm sure you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Hmmmmm, yeah...I would even let you cum inside me."

"You're so fucking sexy, Wony. Such a fucking slut."

"Yes, I'm a slut. Your personal little cumdumpster." Wony replied, as she started rubbing her clit with her left hand.

"You like watching me finger my pussy whilst I jerk your big black cock, daddy?"

"Yes, Wony. I love it."

"Then give me your warm, delicious cum."

"Give it to me, daddy. Spray that thick white cum all over me."

"I've been such a good slut for you guys...I deserve one final big load of cum all over my face."

"Fuckkk me, Wony...I'm gonna cum soon. Keep going, girl." He said, as he took his cock of her hand and aimed his cock directly in front of her face, just before he started stroking his shaft, his hand moving incredibly fast, trying to reach his orgasm as quickly as possible.

"Yes, daddy. Keep jerking your big cock and cum for me. I want it, please."

"Stroke it faster, daddy."

"I love watching you stroke your big cock back and forth for me."

"Paint my face, daddy."

"I want to be covered in your cum."

"Don't you want to cum all over my face? I know you want to..."

"Keep stroking that hard cock for me, daddy."

"C'mon daddy. Cum for me. Give me your cum. Make me your cumslut." Wonyoung said, as she saw the guy's legs twitching and his knees weakening.

"Fuuuuckkk, Wony...here it comes...I'm cumming!!!" He said, just as Wonyoung opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out, hoping she would be able to catch at least a few drops of cum, before he began shooting multiple ropes of cum all over her, giving Wonyoung the thickest load she had received so far, making sure to cover any spots on her face that hadn't already been covered.

"Oh god...fuck...thank you, daddy. Mmmmm, so yummy. I love having all of your delicious cum on my face."

Wonyoung's face was a complete mess. She had, easily, two or three layers of cum, coating her entire face, and she absolutely loved it. Her hair was all messed up, and the room reeked of sex.

Wonyoung licked her cum covered lips and tasted the cum that guys' had shot on her mouth, before she brought her hands towards her face and wiped off the cum that was on her eyelids and nose, licking her fingers and moaning at the taste of the thick cum, before she got back on her feet.

"Well...thank you guys. This was so much fun."

"Yeah? Did you enjoy it?" One of them asked, knowing full well what her answer was going to be.

"Are you kidding me? Of course, I enjoyed it. You have no idea how badly I needed this tonight."

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it, because we enjoyed it too. It's not often that you get the chance to fuck one of the hottest girls in the K-pop industry."

"The...THE hottest girl in the K-pop industry." Wonyoung corrected him, before scooping some more cum off her face and swallowing it.

"Well...we have to go now. The shower is right down the hallway, to the left."

"Is there anything else you need before we go?"

"Yes. Could you guys give me your contacts? I really want to do this again next time I'm in town."

"Sure. Of course, you can." One of them said, writing his number on a piece of paper and handing it to her.

"Thank you."

"We will leave you to it. See you soon, hopefully."

"Bye, guys."

"See ya, Wony."

They all walked out the door and left the room, leaving Wonyoung alone. She sat down, with her back against the bed, reflecting on everything that had happened tonight, from being annoyed by Steven's wimpy behaviour, to being passed around 5 black guys, and getting her holes destroyed by their big black cocks.

It was the first time Wonyoung had ever done something as crazy as this, and she couldn't wait for the next time she would be able to do it. Eventually, she made her way towards the shower, making sure nobody saw her through the hallway.

After cleaning herself, and washing off all the cum that was left on her skin, she got dressed and made her way outside, calling an Uber. Once she was back at the hotel room where she was staying, she was met by all 5 of her bandmates.

"Wonyoung.....where were you, girl??? We were all worried about you. We tried calling you time and time again, but you just didn't pick up the phone. What happened?" Yujin asked.

"Oh, nothing...I was just exploring the city with Steven, and lost track of the time."

"Gosh, girl...you could've said something, though." Gaeul said.

"I'm sorry. You're right."

"So...did you and Steven finally get laid?" Leeseo asked, and Wonyoung was unable to hide her smile.

"Oh, if only they knew..." She thought to herself.

"Look girls...I appreciate your concern over me, but I'm here now, and I'm way too tired to talk right now, so goodnight." Wonyoung said, as she made her way towards her bed and laid down, falling asleep almost immediately.

#wonyoung smut #ive smut #wonyoung #ive wonyoung #ive #jang wonyoung #kpop #kpop smut

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mattrempeswife · 3 days ago

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THE CALL-UP

series: blue and blind hearts | part: 01 02 03 04 05 06

pairing: quinn hughes x f!reader

genre: angst, slow burn, friends to lovers.

warnings: unrequited love, emotional angst, pining, mention of quinn’s girlfriend, reader feeling left behind, soft heartbreak, alcohol mention (legal age).

summary: quinn makes it to the nhl. you’ve always known he would but knowing doesn’t make it hurt any less. you were supposed to be by his side for everything, but somehow, you’re starting to feel like an afterthought. especially now that there’s someone new.

You always knew this moment would come.

Quinn Hughes drafted 7th overall, signed to Vancouver, called up to the big leagues.

You were there for every step leading up to it. The early morning workouts, the late-night self-doubt, the injuries, the pressure, the quiet confessions after tough games. You were the one who reminded him to breathe. To eat. To sleep.

You never missed a thing. Never.

So why did it feel like you were missing this?

He called you right after the news broke, voice loud and ecstatic.

“I made it,”

He said, out of breath like he’d run to the phone.

“Y/N! I fucking made it.”

You pressed the phone to your chest for a second, just to feel it. His excitement. His joy.

Then you put it back to your ear and whispered,

“I knew you would.”

“I’m flying to Vancouver in three days,” he continued.

“They want me on the ice immediately. Can you believe that?”

Yes, you could. You always did.

But your chest still ached like he was slipping through your fingers.

You helped him pack that weekend.

Folded t-shirts, rolled up sweatpants, shoved his favorite hoodie into the side pocket of his duffle bag. He stood across from you, tossing socks into the suitcase with no real aim, talking about ice time and coaches and city life like it was all a dream come true.

You didn’t say much. Just smiled when he looked your way.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, like a thought had just hit him.

“You’ll come visit, right?”

You looked up. “Of course.”

“I mean it,” he insisted.

“I don’t want to lose you just because I’m moving.”

Your heart stuttered at that.

Lose you.

He didn’t realize he already was.

You watched his debut from your college dorm, curled up on a beanbag with your laptop on your knees and a blanket over your shoulders. Your roommates cheered every time his name was mentioned on the broadcast. You smiled through it, pretending you weren’t watching with blurry eyes.

He looked so different out there.

Confident. Poised. Electric.

He looked like he belonged.

And for the first time in a long time, you wondered if you still did.

The first visit didn’t happen right away.

He was busy. Training. Adjusting. You understood. You always did.

He called when he could, FaceTime while walking home from practice, late-night check-ins when he couldn’t sleep. You tried to be happy for him, and mostly, you were.

But you started to notice things. Small things.

Like how he didn’t ask about your classes as much. Or how he cut calls short more often than not. Or how, one night, when you finally worked up the courage to say I miss you, all he replied with was.

“Yeah, I miss you too. Guess what though… met someone today.”

You didn’t remember much else from that call. Just the sound of your own heart breaking behind a quiet smile.

Her name was Sophia. (sorry 🥲)

You saw her first in a tagged photo on Instagram.

A group shot Quinn in the middle, smiling wide, his arm around a girl with perfect hair and that effortless kind of beauty you couldn’t fake. Someone in the comments had written ‘new couple alert???’ and Quinn hadn’t responded.

But he didn’t deny it either.

You waited for him to bring her up. He didn’t.

At least not right away.

—

You finally visited Vancouver two months later.

It was raining when your plane landed. Gray skies, city lights, the kind of cold that clung to your bones. He met you at baggage claim with a wide grin and that same old spark in his eyes.

“God, I missed you,”

He said, wrapping you in a hug that felt like home.

You closed your eyes and held on a second too long.

His apartment was bigger than you’d imagined.

Sleek, modern, still kind of empty. You dropped your bags by the couch and glanced around at the barely furnished space.

“Still living like a frat boy, I see,” you joked.

He laughed.

“Hey, I added a rug last week. That’s called aesthetic.”

You rolled your eyes and flopped down on the couch, trying not to think about how it smelled like someone else’s perfume.

Sophia showed up that night.

You weren’t expecting her. He hadn’t mentioned she was coming.

She walked in like she belonged there kissed his cheek, slid her arm around his waist, smiled at you like you were just another face.

“Oh!” she said brightly.

“You’re Y/N. The best friend. I’ve heard so much about you.”

You forced a smile. “All lies, I’m sure.”

Quinn didn’t notice the tension. He never did.

That weekend was hard.

Harder than you thought it would be.

They were cute together. She brought out this easy, flirty side of him you hadn’t seen before. And he seemed happy. That was what killed you.

Because deep down, you always thought you’d be the one to make him happy.

He invited her to everything, the game, the dinners, the late-night TV marathons. You slept on the pull-out couch in the living room, listening to them laugh behind a closed bedroom door, trying not to cry into the pillow you’d bought him last Christmas.

The night before your flight home, you found him on the balcony, wrapped in a hoodie, looking out at the city lights.

You joined him, shivering in your thin sweater.

“She’s great,” you said after a long silence. “Sophia.”

He nodded slowly.

“Yeah. She is.”

You didn’t say anything else for a while.

Then he turned to look at you.

“Do you think… I’ve changed?”

The question caught you off guard.

“Changed how?”

“Like… since all this started. Since the league. Since her.”

You studied him for a moment. He looked tired. Older. Like the weight of the world sat behind his eyes.

“No,” you said softly.

“You’re still you. Just… further away.”

He frowned. “I don’t want to be.”

You smiled, a little sad. “I know.”

But you already were.

When he hugged you goodbye the next morning, you didn’t say I love you.

You just said,

“Take care of yourself, Hughes.”

He smiled like he didn’t hear the crack in your voice.

“Always do.”

You watched him disappear into the terminal crowd, your heart heavier than your suitcase.

You’d loved him for so long. Long before the cameras and the crowds and the jersey with his name on the back.

But now you were starting to wonder if that love had a place in his new world.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes imagines #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes series #quinn hughes fanfic #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes nhl #nhl imagines #nhl fanfic #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes angst #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes one-shot #quinn hughes x f!reader #quinn hughes x fem!reader

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starmapz · 4 months ago

Text

what you know - ch5: hero || r. sukuna

❦ ryomen sukuna x f!reader [college au] [ongoing series]

❝ you've heard his reputation and you've seen first-hand the way he's late to class if he even bothers to show up. paired with him for the most important project of the year, you choose to give him the benefit of the doubt- but maybe that's more than he deserves when your perfect grades depend on him, or maybe there's more to the aloof and irritable sukuna than meets the eye. ❞

❦ cw ; mdni, 18+ only. contains explicit sexual themes and content. use of alcohol. use of cannabis. use of nicotine/cigarettes. angst. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. implied injury. family trauma. mutual pining. smut. slow burn. anxiety. panic (attacks). mentions of difficulty eating. vomit. tags will be updated as series continues.

❦ additional tags ; college parties and themes. sukuna ooc warning as this is a realistic take on modern sukuna. reader is fairly preppy and implied to be smaller than sukuna, but he's 6"11.

❦ words ; 12.2k.

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

[email protected] - Tuesday, 10:44 PM Have lunch with us tomorrow!

[email protected] - Tuesday, 10:59 PM am i allowed to say no

[email protected] - Tuesday, 11:03 PM Nope! :)

[email protected] - Tuesday, 11:05 PM lucky me

If there’s one thing you can say about your friendship with Sukuna, it’s that he’s a lot funnier than all the rumors surrounding him give him credit for.

That, and that you’ve gotten a lot better at checking your email.

Pulling into the parking lot nearest to the campus library, you put the car in park and turn to the passenger’s seat to grab your bag. When you turn back, a startlingly tall figure is trudging through the snow towards you, salmon hair poking out from his hood standing as a dead giveaway as to who it is.

Rolling down your window, you call out to him. “Sukuna?”

He jogs towards you at the sound of your voice, resting his forearms on the edge of your car where the window is lowered. A paper cup adorned in a local coffee shop logo in each of his hands grabs your attention as he dips his head into your car and, more importantly, right into your personal space. Your heart races at the close proximity, keeping your attention on the cups in his hands in an effort to keep your thoughts in order.

“Shit, it’s cold,” he grumbles. “I swear it was just fall.”

Don’t say it, don't say it, don't say it- “You could always light yourself on fire again.”

Sukuna’s face deadpans. “Play your games, brat. I’m more than happy to have your drink,” he sneers, ducking his head back out of his window and into the cold as he attempts to turn away.

“Wait wait wait!” You giggle, reaching out to tug him back into the window as you pull on his coat sleeve. He scowls at you, letting you pull him back into the heat of your car despite his grumpy demeanor.

“D’you want your drink or not?” He grumbles, holding one of the cups out a bit further.

Curiously, you take it from him, smiling as it warms your hands. Bringing the cup up to your lips, you cautiously take a sip, your tongue swiping your lips when you pull it back to look at it with a crease between your brow.

“How’d you know my exact order?” You ask, wracking your brain for if you had told him at some point.

“I’m just that good,” he smirks, taking a sip of his own drink that smells like the most caffeinated black coffee you’ve ever bore witness to.

You narrow your eyes suspiciously at him, but you’re not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, and Sukuna clearly isn’t about to let you in on his secret. With a soft sigh, you resign yourself to not knowing.

“Thanks, Kuna.”

He grunts in reply, taking another sip of his overpoweringly aromatic coffee.

“Are you gonna come study?” You query as you set your drink down in a cup holder to zip up your coat and pull your backpack up over your shoulder. Sukuna backs away from the door as you get out of your car and grab your drink.

“Nah, gotta turn in a paper.”

“See you at lunch, then?” You tilt your head to get a better view of Sukuna towering over you.

He grimaces, a muscle in his jaw tensing. “Suppose so.”

“Don’t sound so excited,” you tease.

“Can’t say I’m lookin’ forward to getting torn apart by your friends.” He takes a sip of his coffee, tucking his other hand into his pocket to fiddle with his lighter, though he’s careful not to start a fire this time.

“I’ll talk to them. It won’t be that bad,” you promise, giving him your best reassuring smile.

Sukuna pauses to examine your expression, his gaze flickering between your eyes and down to your smile. He knows you well enough to spot the crack in your facade, the barely-there flash of doubt in your eyes that tells him that your friends won’t forgive him so easily, but he owes you regardless, so he doesn’t have much of a choice at the end of the day but to trust you.

And trust you, he does. He’s not sure what it is about your calming presence and sunny demeanor, but you seem to pull the best from him and even in the turmoil that his life has become, he finds himself seeking that familiar warmth.

It’s for that reason that he’ll bear whatever it is that your friends deem a necessary punishment for him, even if it irks him.

He hums in reply, glancing down at his watch as he sets the thought aside. “Gotta go. Later,” he says abruptly as he turns to leave in usual Sukuna fashion.

“See you later, thanks for the drink!”

He casts a glance over his shoulder at you with a smirk before throwing his hood up over his head and trudging off into the snow. You follow suit, pulling your hood up with a shiver as the wind whips around you, reminding you just what season it is. Tucking your hands into your pockets, you jog towards the library and barge through the doors with as much poise as you can muster given the cold you’ve just run from.

Shoko’s head lifts from her book as you approach the table where she and Kento are hunched over their textbooks while Haibara is typing away on his laptop. With a huff, you take a seat across from Shoko and beside Kento.

“I can’t believe it got this cold and snowy so quickly,” you whisper, shivering as you toss your coat over the back of the chair.

“Welcome to winter,” Shoko sighs, fiddling with a coffee cup that matches your own.

“Oh!” Haibara looks up from his laptop with a pleased expression. “Good, you did get your drink!”

With a tilt of your head, you hold the paper cup out in front of you, glancing around the table as you realize all three of them have matching cups to yours.

“Yeah, um, Sukuna brought it for me,” you smile, bringing the cup towards your chest as if the thought makes you starstruck. Maybe it does, just a bit.

“I ran into him at the cafe. He actually came up and said hi, would you believe that? I mean, he just wanted your order, but I thought it was pretty nice for him.” Haibara beams, leaning back in his chair with a bright smile that you share. Kento and Shoko exchange a less enthusiastic glance, privy to information Haibara doesn’t have on your former project partner.

“That explains how he got my order right,” you giggle to yourself, pleased when Haibara laughs along with you. Maybe it’ll be good to have him at your side for lunch today to break the tension between Sukuna and your friends. “Oh yeah, he’s gonna join us for lunch.”

With Haibara sitting at the table, Kento and Shoko keep their mouths shut, but their displeasure doesn’t need to be voiced based on the frowns you receive.

“Can we talk, actually?” Shoko speaks up, pushing herself up from the table.

Your heart drops, but you nod, gingerly following as she leads you into the hall outside the library. It’s dead quiet, even more so than the library itself which was filled with the sounds of paper turning and pens scratching. Now, the silence seems to close in on you as your closest friend turns to you with an exasperated sigh.

“Listen girl, you know I love you.”

“That’s just about the worst start to this I could have hoped for,” you joke with a nervous laugh in hopes of lightening the mood.

Shoko smiles. “I promise it’s not that bad. I’m just worried and I won’t sit by with Kento and watch while Sukuna breaks your heart. Once is a mistake, but twice?”

The guilty look on your face causes her to sigh again, but before you can give her a better explanation, she continues.

“You’re too forgiving for your own good sometimes and I know you didn’t want to mention the kids to Kento, but can you at least tell me what his excuse was? I just want to make sure he isn’t taking advantage of you.”

You chew on your lip, knowing your explanation won’t help Sukuna’s case. “Well, he hasn’t exactly told me, but-”

“He hasn’t told you?” She parrots with a raised brow, rubbing her temple.

“Wait, wait, just listen!” You plead, grabbing her shoulders. “He told me there was an emergency with the kids and he doesn’t want me involved in it. I told him this is his last chance and he’s trying, Sho.”

She grimaces, the gears turning in her mind as she weighs her opinions on him based only on what you’ve told her. “You better have meant it when you told him this is his last chance,” she crosses her arms over her chest. “I know he’s got a lot on his plate but that doesn’t give him any excuse to treat you like you’re disposable.”

“I won’t let him,” you promise. “And he won’t,” you assure her. He hasn’t gained the entirety of your trust back, but you can see that he’s putting in a notable effort to earn it and you want so badly to believe that the Sukuna you’re getting to know will stick around.

In all honesty, you think the begrudgingly kind and thoughtful version of him you’re getting to know is the real Sukuna, beneath the layers of grumpiness and stress and anger that go hand-in-hand with that warmth that he seldom shows around others. Hardened by a life that’s been nothing but tough on him, you’re privy to another side of him. One that has a good time teasing and making jokes, who enjoys music, movies, and video games and has a love for art. Sure, he’s still got an attitude and a penchant for being easily annoyed (and annoying), but behind all those walls is a person that anyone would be happy to spend time with.

He just needs a little bit of help and some rest to show that side of himself, help that he has a hard time accepting over his pride.

With a deep sigh, Shoko resigns to your beseeching. “You really like him, huh?”

Your cheeks warm, unable to hide the smile that finds its way to your lips, although you don’t respond. She has her answer in the form of your giddy smile as you shuffle from one foot to the other.

“I’ve never seen you like this before. The heart wants what it wants, I guess.”

“So you’ll give him a chance at lunch today?” You plead, squeezing her shoulders lightly.

She takes a moment to consider your words before dramatically rolling her eyes as she pulls you in for a hug. “One wrong move and I’m whooping his ass.”

“I won’t stop you, promise.”

She pulls back and begins heading back to the library. “He’s been helping you with History, right? Can we go over that? I’m so behind,” she whispers as she crosses into the library. The sound of pages turning and pencils scribbling is a relief in comparison to the silence of the empty reading week halls.

“Sounds good!”

–

With a shiver, you brush the snow from your jacket as you make your way into the lunch hall, unzipping it as you’re met with warm air. There’s a few more students around than there has been the last few days, likely the result of the power going out in some of the dorms from the whispers you’d been hearing.

Making your way to your usual table, you pull out some leftovers from a couple of nights ago and make your way to the microwave.

When you return to your seat, the table has gained an air of awkwardness that you suppose you were expecting, and Sukuna is seated to the right of your chair. Haibara seems to be doing what he can to mediate the table and Shoko’s half-hearted replies are better than nothing, at the very least. Kento seems less than pleased, but he’s entertaining Haibara if nothing else.

“Hey!” You beam at Sukuna. His gaze flickers up to you and he nods in reply. The rest of the table seems to relax at your arrival, but the tension remains palpable. Tough crowd.

Taking a seat beside Sukuna, you turn to him as Shoko and Haibara talk about something they watched the night before, entertaining Kento with the drama of it all. “How did turning in your paper go?” You ask the tattooed man who’s leaning against his knuckles, propped up by his elbow on the table.

He yawns before he replies. “Fine. Should get a good grade,” he shrugs nonchalantly.

“I’m glad,” you smile, taking a bite of your lunch. “Did you bring anything to eat?”

“Yeah, leftovers from last night.” With a grunt, he leans down to his bag as though it took a nominal amount of effort, pulling a container from his bag. Setting the container down, he sighs heavily.

With a sympathetic smile, you lower your voice. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, rubbing a hand over his face as he glances around the table to make sure no one’s listening. “Cho’s been having nightmares and it’s catchin’ up with me.”

“Aww,” you pout. “Poor kid.”

“He’ll be alright,” Sukuna assures you, or at least you think he’s assuring you. “They both will.”

You purse your lips, examining the distance in his sunken eyes. You may be sitting beside him, but there’s a strange feeling that you’re watching him from outside, as though there’s a barrier of glass between you. Before you can question him any further, he changes the subject.

“How’s studying for History goin’?” He casts a glance at Shoko, just long enough to catch her eye and invite her into the conversation. It’s small, but it is a noticeable effort from Sukuna to include her.

“We were just going through it, actually. I feel way better about that final already,” you smile, eyes bright as you exchange a glance with Shoko.

Her cautious gaze softens and she nods in agreement. “Yeah. Thanks for the help.”

“Mm.” Sukuna hums, turning towards you with a smirk. “So if I ask about the Berlin Blockade-”

“Oh no,” you groan.

“- you can tell me how many air corridors the Soviets granted for cargo and trades and where they were granted to?”

Sukuna’s pretty sure he sees your eyes glaze over in dread and confusion from just one question, as though your confidence has fizzled out. He chuckles, amused.

“One question at a time. D’ya remember how many air corridors there were?”

You sigh. “This isn’t what I was hoping for when I invited you for lunch,” you grumble as you pull your history textbook out. “Three. There were three.”

“Good. Where were they granted to?”

“Um…” you take a deep breath, wracking your brain for information. “Frankfurt.”

“Mhm.”

“Hamburg.”

“Good.”

You chew on your lip, peering over at him with a blank stare that tells him you haven’t the faintest clue.

“Open your textbook,” he instructs.

You flip to the chapter about the Cold War, searching for information about the Berlin Blockade. Your eyes scan the pages and eventually come across all three locations. “Bückeberg.”

“Good. Who was the foreign minister at the time?”

The look you shoot Sukuna is too cute. You look completely and utterly lost, immediately searching your textbook. “Vyacheslav Molotov,” you reply after a moment, pointing at a black and gray photo of a man.

“Yes,” Sukuna agrees, reaching for your hand. His fingers are rough and calloused when he wraps them around yours, moving your hand an inch to the left to a different photo. “But you pointed at Stalin.”

“O- oh.” You tear your gaze from his much larger hand wrapped around yours to the two photos, using every shred of willpower you can muster to commit the photos to memory. Whether it’s because you’re burnt out on studying, or because the size of Sukuna’s hand is sending your mind reeling to places you’re not willing to admit aloud, your heart is pounding and you can only pray Sukuna’s fingers aren’t low enough on your wrist to feel your pulse. “My bad,” you barely manage to whisper.

Sukuna pulls his hand back, laying it next to yours on the table. “You were close,” he shrugs, not thinking much of it.

With a sharp intake of breath to clear your head, you pull your notebook aside and write down the answers you missed. “I should know this by now,” you mutter more to yourself than anyone else. Barely audibly, you tack on, “we’ve studied so much.”

Sukuna arches a brow, thoughtfully looking down at you. “It’s not a big deal. You actually know the history itself well, you’re just bad with names, dates, and faces.”

With pursed lips, you give him your attention, considering his words for a moment.

“What’s the reason for the Berlin Blockade?” He quizzes.

“To weaken Germany,” you reply without a moment’s thought.

He smirks, nudging your shoulder and keeping in close proximity with you. “See, you’re fine. That’s why I’ve been quizzin’ you on the more important shit.”

“I guess you’re right. Won’t there be a lot of names on the test though?”

“Nah. It’s like a seventy-thirty split,” he shrugs.

“Thirty’s a lot,” you mumble, your face falling at the thought of getting a seventy, and that’s only if you get a perfect score across every other question.

“Seventy is a lot,” he corrects, a playful smirk slathered across his lips. “Or are you a princess about your grades?” He teases as his lips turn up into a grin.

You force a smile, entertaining his teasing. “I know you’re right, but-” you pause, looking up into those striking crimson irises. He’s so close to you and regards you with so much mirth that your breath unintentionally hitches in your throat. “- um,” you continue shakily, “I could lose my scholarship if my grades aren’t good enough.”

Sukuna’s eyes briefly widen. “You’re on a scholarship?”

“Yeah, I need higher than a seventy on this final.”

He lets out a long breath through his nose. “Alright then, princess. We’ll aim higher.”

Did your mouth just go dry from one word? God are you really in that deep?

“Thanks, Kuna.” You nudge him back, earning you another entirely too handsome grin.

“Mm.” His grin falters at the nickname, but he forces down his disdain for it.

You’re so caught up in your conversation with Sukuna, that you don’t see Haibara kick Kento and Shoko from under the table and direct their attention to your interactions with Sukuna. Even stoic Kento who was beyond pissed with Sukuna can’t deny that the sight could weaken even the hardest resolve against the man.

–

“I don’t WANNA!”

You lower your fist from Sukuna’s door the following night, pausing at the chaos from within his apartment. The anger and frustration just beyond the door is practically bursting out into the hall and you’re sure the moment it opens, it’ll metaphorically slap you in the face. Taking in a sharp breath, you raise your hand again.

“I won’t ask again,” comes Sukuna’s raised voice, straining to keep his anger down.

… And now you can hear sobbing.

You softly tap your knuckles against the door, half expecting to need to wait for someone to let you in but Sukuna swings the door open immediately. It slams shut behind you once you’ve cleared the entryway and the scene inside is equally as ugly as it sounds.

Choso is nowhere to be seen, Yuji is in tears and Sukuna is about to blow a gasket.

Oh boy.

“What’s- um-” You pause, debating whether you should even ask. “- Going on?” You question mousily.

“Go on brat, what’s going on?” Sukuna hisses, his chest rising and falling as fury courses through his veins.

Yuji’s too busy sobbing to reply, shaking his head adamantly as he wipes at his face, snot running down his chin.

“Fucking christ,” Sukuna mutters, exasperated. He runs a hand through his pink hair, turning on his heel away from the scene in an effort to keep calm. Whatever patience he’d had for this had run dry during their walk home from school and with the mess his life had become, he was already worn extremely thin.

As Yuji continues to bawl and Sukuna leans over the kitchen counter gathering himself, you decide to step in.

You make your way across the living room to Yuji, kneeling down in front of him. “Hey, sweetheart.” Your voice is gentle and you offer a sympathetic smile. “Everything’s alright, don’t cry,” you soothe as you reach out and gently rub the sides of his arms. “Do you want a hug?”

Yuji nods adamantly, hiccuping through the tears as he reaches out for you. You pull him in for a tight hug, rubbing his back reassuringly. Sure to keep your voice soft and gentle, you give him a moment before speaking up.

“What happened, Yu?”

“K-Kuna’s-” sniffle. “- he’s m-making me get a-” Yuji’s voice breaks as the tears set in again. “A-” hiccup. “- needleeeeee.” He sobs into your shoulder, burying his face into your neck. You let out a breath at the realization that it’s just an argument that’s been blown completely out of proportion. Life was so much easier when the hardest thing you had to endure was vaccinations.

“I’m sorry honey,” you coo, continuing to rub his back. You let him sob into your shoulder before pulling back to look at him. At the sight of your face, so gentle and calm, he starts to sniffle more and less tears flow down his cheeks. “There you go,” you smile, noticing now that there’s a very crumpled piece of paper in his hand.

Yuji wipes his face on his arm, his breath coming in short gasps as he slowly calms down.

“Can I see that?” You ask, holding your hand out.

“No,” he whines, holding it behind his back.

“Alright,” you smile again, deciding it’s best to reason with him.

You cast a glance back to Sukuna. His palms are splayed on the counter as he leans his weight over the surface, staring down at it. All of his muscles are tense as his back rises and falls steadily with each breath he uses to calm his own anger. They really are two sides of the same coin.

“Is your school doing vaccinations?”

Yuji nods.

“Is that your permission form?”

He shakes his head.

“Are you lying?”

He hesitates before nodding. You have to stifle a laugh at his completely shameless lie, your smile lopsided.

“Can we talk it through?” You ask, sitting cross-legged before Yuji.

He blinks a few times as he considers your question before plopping himself down on the floor in front of you. He glances down at the way you’re seated, following suit and setting his permission form juuust out of reach. Sneaky kid.

“Are you scared of needles?”

Yuji’s silent, thinking for a moment before he decidedly nods.

“Okay, that’s normal. Are you afraid it’ll hurt?” You query, tilting your head at him.

“It will,” he replies with an edge of certainty, sniffling.

“Maybe for a moment, but do you know what the needle’s for?”

“Um-” he wipes under his eyes, his face scrunching up in deep thought. “- no.”

“It’s so that you don’t get sick. Do you remember being sick the other week, sweetheart?”

“... yeah.” He continues to sniffle and wipe at his face, looking up at you between each movement as he waits for you to continue.

“Well, there’s sicknesses that are a lot worse than that, and your brother doesn’t want you to get them,” you explain, glancing back at the sound of Sukuna shuffling. He pushes himself up from the counter, listening as intently as Yuji is as he makes his way a short distance behind you. His disgruntled expression trains on the sight of you sitting alongside his little brother, but he’s silent. “Don’t you think it’s worth it to get poked for a moment and not get one of those sicknesses?”

Yuji’s gaze flickers between you and his older brother towering over both of you as he thinks about it. You give him all the time he needs, even as Sukuna’s foot begins tapping impatiently. He’s an adult, he can wait. “I guess,” Yuji finally agrees, averting his gaze.

“Do you think you can be brave for me and get a needle, then?” You ask, your gentle smile remaining in place the whole time.

It takes a moment, but Yuji nods.

“Can I have that paper, Yu?”

He gingerly reaches behind him and passes you the crumpled paper. Tilting your head up to Sukuna, you pass it up to him. He walks over to the table, signs it, and returns it to Yuji.

“You better give this to your teacher,” he growls as he hands it back to Yuji. The little boy frowns, staring down at the ground in shame as he sniffles. Tears threaten his eyes again and you sigh.

“Sukuna, please,” your tone is soft with him as well, pleading for understanding between the two.

A muscle in his jaw tightens as his frustrated gaze zeros in on you, but he second-guesses whatever snappy words are about to spill from his lips, choosing instead to keep his mouth shut. His lips press into a thin line, furiously glaring at you and Yuji.

“Can you promise your brother, sweetheart?”

He’s still quietly sniffling as he nods, unable to look either of you in the eye. You let out a soft sigh, rubbing at the crease between your brows. At least they’d come to some kind of peace, even if Sukuna is audibly huffing behind you while Yuji sniffles.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you offer a hand to Yuji, who takes it and lets you drag (yes, drag) him back up to his feet, quietly fiddling with the hem of his Sonic the Hedgehog shirt.

With a glance at Sukuna, clad in a plain white V-neck and sweatpants, you catch a glimpse of his tattoos and an idea pops into your mind. “You know, Yuji, your brother is super brave.”

The little boy’s head tilts in a silent question, just as Sukuna is looking at you with arms crossed over his chest. You take a step towards the older of the two brothers, avoiding his gaze to conceal your racing heart. Gingerly, you reach for his wrist and tug lightly on it. His lip twitches in a frown as he stays soundly in place, relenting finally when you tilt your head.

Fuck, it’s cute when you do that.

He lets you pull his wrist down towards Yuji, his expression unchanging as you point out his tattoos. “Your brother got thousands of needles for his tattoos, did you know that?” Your thumb rubs circles into Sukuna’s skin and he wonders if you know you’re doing it at all, his full attention trained on the action. Whether consciously or not, you seem to be trying to soothe him, and the fact that it’s working only further complicates the feelings bubbling in Sukuna’s chest.

Yuji peers up nervously with reddened eyes and puffy cheeks at his older brother. “Really?” He rasps quietly, his voice strained from crying.

“That’s right,” you grin. “Can you be brave like your brother?”

Yuji reaches out and presses a finger to Sukuna’s wrist, as if feeling for raised skin, only to find it’s smooth. “Like Kuna,” he nods in agreement, showing you the saddest smile you’ve ever seen through his tear-stained face.

“Like Kuna,” you agree, rustling the little boy’s salmon hair. He smiles more happily now, running off with his permission slip to slide it into his backpack.

Sukuna lets out a long breath as you drop his wrist. “Fuck,” he mutters.

“Need to cry it out in my arms, too?” You tease with a grin.

“Don’t push your luck, woman.” Even as he rolls his eyes at you, you catch the short exhale of breath from his nose reminiscent of a laugh.

“The offer stands,” you shrug cheekily, heading over to the table to set your bag down. You pull your history textbook out, alongside your notebook and some cue cards you prepared after submitting your paper last night. You skimmed through your textbook to put together cue cards with names, dates, and locations and their relations to historic events after Sukuna had pointed out that you seem to have the rest of the subject down.

Setting everything across the table, you peer over your shoulder at Sukuna’s distant gaze. You’ve seen this expression on him before, a forlorn glaze over his eyes as though he’s not present, completely lost in thought.

“Are you okay?”

Sukuna blinks twice, coming back to the present. A knot forms between his brows, as though he’s offended you might suggest he isn’t. “‘M fine.”

He’s lying, but you have no right to the truth, so you accept it with a nod.

No longer distracted, he runs a hand through his spiked hair, pushing a few loose strands back off of his forehead. His attention returns fully to you, though with a glance down at your white blouse, he wrinkles his nose.

“What?” You ask, looking down only to find yourself mirroring his expression. “Oh.”

Your blouse is a downright mess of snot and tears and while the tears will dry… well the same can’t be said for the snot. You frown, heading to the sink to wet a washcloth.

“Don’t bother,” Sukuna grumbles, striding into a room down the hall that you assume is his. He re-emerges a moment later with the first shirt he could find that doesn’t have the sleeves cut off. You reach out for the material as he tosses it to you.

“Thanks,” you smile, a faint heat rising to your cheeks at the prospect of wearing his shirt. Ducking away quickly to the washroom, you pull your blouse over your head and replace it with the black T-shirt, looking down at the material flowing over your body and thighs. You can’t help but giggle at the sight while Sukuna’s scent invades your senses, a comforting smokey and woodsy smell that makes you dizzy.

Straightening the shirt over your body, you nod to yourself in the mirror before re-emerging into the main living space. You can make out Sukuna’s form leaning over the balcony railing with no jacket on, even in the freezing weather. He catches a glimpse of you from the corner of his eye, taking a long final drag from his cigarette before he stubs it out in an ashtray and steps back inside.

“I think it’s a little big on me,” you giggle in reference to the shirt, cheeks remaining warm as you gingerly link your hands behind your back, rocking forward and back on your heel.

The tattooed man’s eyes trail the length of your body, the red of his irises disappearing as he does so. You cross your arms over yourself, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his sharp gaze.

He clears his throat, running his tongue over his lower lip. “Yeah, well. I’m six foot eleven, and you’re fuckin’ short.” He averts his gaze, willing his dick not to react right now. He’s already well aware of his attraction to you, and he’s sure that if he just found the time to get laid he could bury that feeling. What’s more important is that he considers you to be someone genuinely important in his life, regardless of the fact that he can’t give you a label. He’s not about to jeopardize whatever he has with you because of how hot you are and how much his dick is well aware of it.

He’s seen the looks you give him, too. Every hitch of your breath, every nervous glance away from him. He knows there’s a mutual attraction between you, but it’s one that no matter how much his sex drive seems to disagree, he knows he can’t pursue. There’s more to your connection than sex, and one night isn’t worth the effort he’s put into fixing things with you.

He can’t put a name to that connection, but he values it regardless.

“Type… O Negative?” You interrupt Sukuna’s thoughts, reading the bold green logo on the shirt as your eyes trace the heart monitor logo in matching green beneath the text. Most of the band shirts he wears have logos with the most bizarre font they’re nearly unreadable, so you can’t help but wonder if this is even a band at all. Meeting his gaze again, you tilt your head.

Sukuna’s cock twitches in his sweats. Shit, he should have worn jeans. He coughs into his elbow, leaning back against the table in an effort to hide his growing need. “They’re a band.”

“Oh, cool!” You smile, your eyes crinkling at the corners.

Getting up suddenly, Sukuna mutters something about needing to get ready for work and saunters off, leaving you standing by the table alone. You shrug it off, attempting to roll up the sleeves of the shirt and tuck it into the waistband of your leggings as best as you can in the hopes of making yourself look less like you’re in pajamas. Once you’re satisfied with the best look you think you can pull off, you take a seat at the table and begin putting together your cue cards.

Throwing yourself into your studies, you begin going through your cue cards in silence until Sukuna returns a short while later. The locks over his forehead are damp and he’s in a clean set of navy coveralls when he sits at the table beside you.

“What leaders made an effort to end the Cold War?” He quizzes, leaning over the table without so much as a glance at your cue cards.

“Reagan!”

“And?”

“Um- Gorbachev…?”

“Atta girl,” Sukuna smirks, giving your shoulder a light shove as your eyes light up, cheeks noticeably warm.

“Thank god I’m getting somewhere with all this studying,” you chuckle to yourself, straightening your cue cards. “I’m so burnt out on schoolwork,” you sigh, dropping the cards to the table.

“Why not take a break then?” Sukuna asks through a yawn.

“I can’t,” you frown, offering no further explanation. His brow arches questioningly. “I still need your help.”

His eyes flicker between yours, before dropping to your cue cards. “No ya don’t. You know the material and you’ve got cue cards for the shit you don’t remember. You’re set.”

You follow his gaze to the colorful cards with your handwriting scrawled over them in black ink. “You think so?”

“‘Course. You’re smarter than I am.”

The burly man leans forward over the table on his palm, yawning as silence sets in while you glance over your study materials. It doesn’t take long before you realize he’s in a trance, staring blankly straight ahead with a familiar distant expression.

Frowning, you have to resist the urge to reach out and pull him towards you. Maybe it’s because you’ve spent so much time with his brothers, but something about the idea of pulling him into a comforting hug feels right.

As though your body is actively working against you, your hand instinctively reaches for him. Sukuna’s gaze reflexively locks onto your hand that rests on his bicep, rubbing his tensed arm. A muscle works in his jaw as his irises flit up to you, something unreadable gleaming in his intense stare.

At the realization that you did reach out after all, you hesitantly pull back, somewhat surprised he didn’t smack your hand away in irritation. “Sorry, I…” But you have no excuse, so you trail off, awaiting his reaction.

Sukuna makes a show out of rolling his eyes, using his free hand to pull your hand back down to his bicep before leaning forward over the table and resting his chin over his elbow. He yawns again, his muscles slowly relaxing beneath your hand. You smile softly as Sukuna accepts your comfort, accepts you, and simply enjoy the comfortable silence while you use your spare hand to go through your cue cards.

His eyes are heavy as he stares blankly out the window opposite the table, the lull of sleep threatening to pull him under. As much as Sukuna hates to admit it, there’s little more tempting as of late than simply sleeping through his problems, and his mind goes blank as he eventually gives in to the temptation.

Sukuna’s breathing steadies beneath your hand, and you count your blessings that you’ve watched the kids during this shift before and you know that he has twenty minutes before he needs to leave. It might be the first time you’ve seen Sukuna completely relaxed, his jaw slack and shoulders loose. Pink strands of hair fall over his forehead, his lips only slightly parted as he breathes softly.

You gently rub circles into his arm, smiling softly at just how comfortable he’s grown with you. It touches you to see him able to simply be around you in such a way. Although you’d be lying to say you don’t want more than what you have with him, you’re grateful you have anything at all given his icy disposition. You’ve come a long way from the one-word answers and constant frustration.

Even if it’s always under the guise of an equivalent exchange, you’re glad he allows you to help him. Ever since you’ve been watching his little brothers more, he doesn’t seem as tired all the time (not that this particular moment proves that point), and you’re seeing more and more glimpses of the side of him most don’t get to see.

Your heart does a flip as his muscles twitch in his sleep beneath your fingers. He’s always trusted you on a relatively surface-level given that he lets you watch his brothers, but falling asleep under your touch is a surprising level of intimacy and reliance.

It’s a shame that twenty minutes passes so fast as you squeeze his arm in an effort to wake him.

“Stop,” he grumbles, swatting your hand away. Well, the peace can’t last forever you suppose. You give him another shake, which he certainly doesn’t appreciate. “What’d I just fuckin’ say?”

“You have work soon, Sukuna,” you giggle, giving him another shove. He cracks an eye open, his brow pulled down in a grumpy frown. He lifts his head slowly, squinting groggily at you with the imprint of the fabric of his coveralls on his cheek. You have to suppress another giggle at the disheveled glower being thrown at you.

“Fuck me,” he grumbles, rolling his shoulders before he pushes himself up from the table. He pushes his hair from his forehead and saunters around the apartment as he gathers what he needs before throwing on his coat.

“Oh, hey, where’s Choso?” You query as Sukuna fiddles with his keys.

He shrugs. “In his room, probably. He doesn’t like when Yuji cries.”

That makes sense from what you know of the middle sibling.

“Oh. He has homework due, can you make sure he does it?” Sukuna asks as he opens the front door. You nod. “I owe you one.”

Never a thank you with Sukuna, always him owing you.

“See you later, Kuna!”

The door shuts behind him and you let out a sigh, going to check on the two young boys. You knock on the door that’s slightly ajar, poking your head into their room when Yuji tells you to come in. There’s a mess of colored threads, strings, and beads strewn over a desk that they’re both crowded around, while Choso’s homework is buried beneath the mess of craft supplies.

Yuji hops off the chair and opens the door wider for you. Grinning, you let him tug you over to their table. Standing behind them both, you peer at what looks like a pile of (attempted) bead lizards with feet that don’t quite make sense.

“How are you both doing?” You figure after the tension when you walked into the apartment, they could probably use the opportunity to do a mental check-in with you. It’s not like Sukuna would be up for it, so you may as well try with his brothers.

“I’m sorry,” Yuji says as he fiddles with thread, not looking up from the very important lopsided lizard in his tiny hands. His tongue pokes out from the side of his mouth as he focuses on his craft.

“I know Yu, Kuna just has a lot going on right now. It’s okay,” you rub his back gently before turning your attention to his brother, “Choso?”

The dark-haired brother chews on his lip as he slides beads onto a thread. “I’m okay. I don’t like when they fight.” Deep in thought, his movements pause before he pulls two threads tight to keep the beads from falling off and sets a purple lizard head on the desk. “Um- I found this.”

He shoves some stray threads aside and hands you a familiar corner of paper addressed to his older brother adorned with a law firm logo. “I saw this,” you tell Choso, rounding the table to his side in an attempt to keep his brother from being involved. It’s not like he’s old enough to understand either way. “Do you know anything about it?”

He shakes his head.

“Me either,” you tell him. “If your brother wants to tell me, then he will. I’m sure everything’s okay,” you reassure despite not being so sure yourself. Sukuna is strong-willed, smart, and beyond capable. Most could never manage what he’s pulling off, but a lawsuit is another issue entirely. Sukuna’s got a mouth on him and a penchant for fighting if the rumors are true, so you can only imagine what trouble he’s gotten himself into.

Choso picks his lizard back up, sliding three purple beads onto one side of the string. “Okay.” He threads the other side back through the beads and pulls the string tight to keep them in place. “I trust you.”

You smile, ruffling his hair. “Do you need help with the feet?” You ask with a glance at the lizards with lopsided and mismatched feet.

“Please!”

“Yes!”

You can worry about Choso’s homework in a bit. For now, you think both kids could use some time relaxing and doing some crafts as you pull up a chair.

–

Sukuna drags a hand down his face as he enters his apartment to the sound of two kids who are still very awake. Excited screams fill the apartment, alongside your saccharine voice that he can only assume is attempting to corral the kids based on your stern tone.

Dropping his keys on the table at the door, he kicks his boots to the side and shrugs his coat off, ready for a shower and dead silence alone in his room more than anything. He trudges tiredly towards the washroom, his lips twitching into a frown as Yuji goes bolting past him, followed closely by Choso.

“Go to bed, brats!” He hisses, his voice gruff with irritation as he makes his way to the washroom.

You barely manage to see the door closing behind your friend as you trail after the two boys, who’ve been balls of energy all night since Choso finished his homework. It’s sweet, of course, but your burnt out mind wasn’t prepared for them to have this much energy when you agreed to watch them.

As both boys turn and come barreling past you, you barely manage to catch Yuji and hoist him up into your arms, effectively stopping their game of tag.

“Nooooooooo!!” Yuji cries out between excited giggles. Choso skids to a halt in front of you with a disappointed frown.

“Come on, kiddos. You have school tomorrow, it’s bedtime.”

You’re met with a chorus of whines and sighs as you carry Yuji to their room. Choso trails close behind, pouting as you instruct them to get ready for bed. You help Yuji with pulling his hoodie over his head and choosing a pair of pajamas before giving them time to finish getting ready.

Yuji bursts from the door in a fit of giggles, running towards the cracked door of Sukuna’s room. “Yuji, come on it’s bedti-” you call after him as you follow him through the cracked door, eyes widening at the sight of Sukuna shirtless, his hair damp and hanging over his forehead. He must have finished his shower while you were trying to get his brothers to calm down. He shoots both of you an irritated snarl, his lip curled in frustration. “Sorry!” You squeak out, corralling Yuji out the door before Sukuna can bark out an order to get out of his room.

Your heart pounds, mind distant as you manage to get both kids into bed and read them Green Eggs and Ham. Once they’ve settled and you’re certain they’ll get some rest, you’re able to leave their room with a sigh, heading back to the main living space of the apartment, but Sukuna doesn’t seem to have made his way out of his room yet.

He doesn’t seem to be in the greatest mood and you consider taking your leave without a word, but figure that’s probably more rude than simply knocking on his door. Deciding to do exactly that, you make your way over to his bedroom and lightly tap his door with your knuckles.

“Come in.”

You push the door open, standing stiffly just within the frame. His room is decorated fairly dark with blacks, grays, and reds, only the dim light of a single lamp illuminating the room enough to be seen. There’s a desk pushed to one end of the room covered in workout gear, books, and various art supplies and a pile of clothes tossed over the desk chair, while his wardrobe off to the right is covered in hygiene supplies with only a single photo that you can’t make out in the relative dark. The light from his bedside lamp hardly illuminates the posters and art on his walls, which seem to be a variety of band posters, horror film posters, and his own art. There’s a drafting table opposite his wardrobe absolutely plastered in art supplies as well, with charcoal smeared over the wood.

“You just gonna stand there lookin’ like a fish outta water?” Sukuna asks from where he’s leaning against the headboard of his bed in the center of the room. His nose is buried in his laptop, the dull glow lighting up his features. Crimson irises gleam like deep drops of blood as you round the room, taking a look around as you realize he is genuinely inviting you in. As you step towards his wardrobe, your eyes train on the photo that you can now make out in the dim light.

There’s an older man with hair that matches Yuji and Sukuna’s standing to one side of the photo. Toddler Yuji is sound asleep with his head on the man’s shoulder, with Choso in the center in a graduation cap. You assume it must be an elementary school graduation or something of the sort. Sukuna stands much taller than everyone else in the photo at the back with a mild expression. He’s noticeably taller, with no facial tattoos although you can faintly make out his neck tattoos.

In the corner of the image, there’s a piece missing, and you can see that at one point there was a woman in the side of the photo, her dress visible behind Choso. Her face has been cut out of the photo and you can’t make out a single feature aside from the end of her hair. It looks fairly similar to Choso’s, long and dark. You figure this must be their parents, and Sukuna isn’t fond of his mother.

“He was a lot better with them.” You glance back at Sukuna as he shuts his laptop, setting it on his bedside table. It’s then that you realize he’s still shirtless, your gaze falling way too obviously down to his sculpted abdomen. He looks like a goddamn sculpture by Michaelangelo himself, made by a god in his craft. The peaks and valleys of his abs could make even the strongest person’s mouth water and you would be lying if you said it wasn’t a great effort to tear your gaze from his abs. Now’s not the time. Swallowing hard, you find his eyes.

Sukuna would usually smirk, finding amusement in your inability to keep your eyes on his face, but the can of worms he’s just opened isn’t one he approaches lightly. He’s willingly offering up a piece of his vulnerability to you, leaving the ball in your court.

“That’s your dad?” You ask, turning to look at the photo again.

“Mhm. He put in a lotta when their mom left to work in another country.”

“Their mom? You’re half-brothers, then?” You carefully approach the bed, taking a seat gingerly at the side.

“Yeah. Our dad sure knew how to pick ‘em.” There’s a story there for sure, but he’s already moving on before you can pry. “He knew how to handle the brats. They were happy.”

You slide further onto the bed, leaning against the headboard beside him. “They’re happy with you too, Sukuna.”

His eyes slowly slide down from the ceiling to meet your gaze. He contemplates your words for a moment, a forlorn sigh parting his lips. “It ain’t the same.”

You shuffle to face him, sitting cross-legged as you will your eyes to stay on his face. “Sukuna, you’re good with them. You care and you’re trying, that’s what matters.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Good with them, my ass.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “You saw what happened earlier. Choso was afraid of me n’ Yuji was cryin’.” He drags his hand down his face. “Shit’s a disaster here. I’m never even home to look after ‘em.”

You blink as he airs his grievances with the world, with himself. “You’re joking, right?”

Sukuna’s head lolls dramatically towards you, face tense with frustration. “Do I look like I am, princess?”

A shiver runs up your spine but you keep your eyes (and mind) straight on his face. “Seriously, you are good with them. You’re allowed to be frustrated, just like Yuji’s allowed to be afraid. He’s a kid, he’s gonna make a big deal out of little things.” You offer a sympathetic smile. “And Choso’s not afraid of you. He’s worried about you.”

“Worried about what?” Sukuna’s face scrunches in confusion. “The fuck is a twelve-year-old doin’ worrying about me?”

You giggle at his brutish expression, diffusing his frustration. He blows a breath out through his lips, running a hand through his hair that’s gradually drying as you speak. The silence that envelops the both of you is calm, the lamp providing an air of warmth as you work through Sukuna’s worries. The soft orange glow of the bulb illuminates his features in such a handsome manner that it’s hard to sit next to him without stray thoughts.

“Choso may only be twelve, but he’s smart. He knows something’s off. We both do.”

His eyes shoot up, his stare intensifying. “Nothing’s off,” he growls sternly, as if trying to convince himself.

“So Yuji gets his lying habits from you, huh?” You tease, keeping your voice soft as you prod at his thigh.

“I’m not lying, fuck off with that,” he grouses, swatting your hand away. You quietly giggle to yourself again, paying no mind to his pointed stare.

“Was your dad this stubborn too?”

You’re not shocked that Sukuna’s response to your teasing is to roll his eyes, but he still entertains a response. “No. He was a teacher, he had the patience of a god.”

“That’s right, he was a history teacher, wasn’t he?”

“Mm.”

“Was he an artist too?”

“No. That’s all me.”

You slide up the bed, inching somewhat closer to him again as you lean back against the headrest, looking around the room at the art above his drafting table. “You’re a great artist, Kuna.”

He hums, following your gaze to the wall where he’s plastered anatomy practice and art of faceless figures. He doesn’t get much time to work on any art these days, but given the opportunity, he would certainly do it more.

His gaze drifts to your face, so calm and inquisitive in spite of his frosty and rough edges. You hardly seem bothered by anything he throws your way, accepting his relative rudeness in stride and he’s not sure he deserves that kindness. No, he knows he doesn’t. Still, sitting here with you, bathed in the soft light of his lamp, he finds himself seeking the comfort of your voice, so soft and understanding as you offer him genuine advice and listen to his gripes without belittling him.

You come from a world so obviously different from his, yet you never seem to see him as anything less than what he is. Hell, you see him as something more than he sees in himself, as much as he hates to admit it. Maybe that’s why he finds himself drawn to you. Maybe that’s why your absence caused him so much trouble.

In truth, he’s not so sure anymore.

There’s a lot he’s not so sure about anymore.

He basks in the silence, sighing deeply as he slumps further back against the headboard. “I think they might be better off in the hands of someone else.”

Your eyes widen, your head whipping over to stare at him. “What? You don’t seriously think that.”

“Do I sound like I’m making a fuckin’ joke?” He huffs, his jaw tense.

“Sukuna, you’re literally their hero. They look up to you more than you could ever imagine.”

He blanches, all signs of irritation dropped as his brow twitches and lips part. The expression on his face is unreadable, a mix of emotions that aren’t familiar on his chiselled features. With a sharp intake of breath, he shuts his eyes, rubbing his hands over his face.

“Kuna?”

“Gimme a moment, fuck.” His voice is muffled through his hands, remaining frozen as he lets out a long sigh. When he drops his hands from his face, he stares down at his lap with that same distant and solemn expression from earlier. You let the silence be at his request, giving him a chance to work through his jumbled thoughts.

Breathing in through his nose, he lets out a breath through pursed lips, his hand reaching for your leg as he squeezes the plush of your thigh. His jaw clenches as he clings to you like a lifeline, the only thing able to ground him and keep him from the thoughts that have been causing him to go through three times his usual dose of nicotine.

And fuck, he cannot afford to keep going through cigarettes at that rate.

Your mind is doing circles at the feeling of his touch on your leg of all places, the heat of his skin warming your leggings.

Blinking, you tilt your head to get a better view of him. “Where’s this all coming from anyway? What happened to the cocky asshole I met a couple of months ago?”

That seems to bring him back as he scowls at you, deflecting your question. “Really runnin’ your mouth for someone whose dinner came from my fridge.”

“Hey! I consider that payment for watching your brothers. Besides, my cooking is great. You should be happy I made you leftovers,” you pout.

He smirks, playfully squeezing your thigh and sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. You swallow to keep yourself from having a noticeable reaction, keeping your attention on a non-descript area of the wall. “Who’s the cocky one now, princess?”

Even with his hand heavy on your thigh, his teasing is so normal that it almost makes you forget that the heat between your legs is begging for friction that you can’t chase because he would feel your thighs clench.

“What can I say? My cooking’s that good.”

“Your cooking ends up on my fucking floor most of the time.”

“The bread crumbs were one time, Sukuna,” you whine, playfully shaking your head.

“From you, maybe. Choso tried to copy your mac and cheese and even convinced my dumb ass he knew how to do it.” Sukuna scoffs, tilting his head towards you. The warmth of his breath fans your neck as he leans in. “D’you know what happened?” He asks, his voice lowered enough to make your heart flutter.

You wince. “Bread crumbs on the floor.”

“Bread crumbs on the fuckin’ floor.”

You bring a hand up to your face, giggling. To your surprise, Sukuna’s chest jolts in a single sputtered laugh, until he’s actually chuckling along with you. Not a smug laugh, not making fun of something, your laughter is contagious and his is genuine.

Comfortable silence finds you, simply enjoying one another’s company. The dull light in his lamp flickers, pulling both of your attention to the bulb on its last legs. Your eyes trail the length of his silhouette, admiring the way his tattoos frame his face. The dark contrast of the solid ink makes the crimson of his irises pop, giving his already sharp features a more deadly appearance.

Everything about him seems to signify a lethal edge; between the way he carries himself, shutting the world out and fending only for himself and his brothers, and his inclination towards frustration. Yet, every so often, you see another side to him, a side where the edges are softer and he seems more himself.

That’s not to say those rougher edges aren’t still there, but the calmer side of him rounds him out and makes his snark more endearing.

Sukuna’s the first to turn back from the lamp, gaze flickering between your eyes. His chest rises and falls, the quiet sounds of his breath punctuating the otherwise silent room.

Sukuna can hear your breath hitch when you realize he’s staring, using the opportunity to squeeze your thigh. It pulls a strangled gasp from deep in your chest and your eyes widen. He can’t help himself, the way your body reacts to him is like a narcotic, and he can’t help but want more.

There’s never been a moment since you met that Sukuna hasn’t known you find him attractive. It’s why he enjoys pushing your buttons so much, but when you slipped so easily alongside him in his personal life, you became something more than a quick fuck. Someone to keep around. Someone who betters him.

In the dim glow of his lamp, laid out on his bed with his palm splayed over your thigh like it belongs there, something deeper stirs within him. Lust, surely. Only lust. You’re in his goddamn shirt, and he’s hungry. He’s starved for the feeling of bare skin slapping against his own, and you’re so damn gorgeous, like a cloud to any amount of judgment he can manage.

And you’re no better. You’ve been biting your lip until it’s raw as you resist the urge to clench your thighs since he invited you in. Sukuna’s not a traditional man, in all of your daydreams and fantasies, you had never imagined him treating you to dinner and romantically confessing. You never had broad expectations for anything extravagant from him.

That’s not what you want from him. You just want him as he is. You want him to let you in, to let you help him find himself and find happiness.

The air around you is charged, crackling with anticipation as his barriers begin to degrade and you let out a shaky breath. The world seems to hold its breath around you, the bustling city so quiet you could hear a pin drop as its noise fades into the background.

Sukuna’s tongue swipes over his lower lip, all reason thrown to the wolves as he leans over you and presses his lips to yours.

His lips are commanding, guiding you towards one thing and one thing only: pleasure. He moves his body over top of yours, caging you beneath his muscular build. You’re so small under him and the control he exerts over you is exhilarating.

The kiss is sloppy, filled with desperation as he settles himself over you, letting his hands roam your body. You’re pliant beneath him, thrilling in the way his hands slide down your waist to your hips. His grip tightens, fingers holding you in-place almost bruisingly. Your pussy throbs, clenching around nothing as slick pools between your thighs.

Consequences be damned, you’re both addicted to the taste and feel of one another.

Sukuna softly bites your lower lip, pulling a whimper from deep in your throat. He smirks against your lips, pressing his hardened bulge against your core. He swallows your gasp, running his tongue along your lower lip as he seeks entrance. You grant him what he’s looking for, drunk on his taste, minty with a hint of smoke.

Sliding your hands up his tense arms, you find purchase in gripping his shoulders as your head spins. He rolls his hips again, revelling in the feel of your nails digging into his bare skin. Getting your bearings, you allow your hands to explore the expanse of his chest, roaming down the high peaks and deep valleys of his extremely pronounced abs. You pause at his waistband, unable to help your smirk as he groans, his abdomen tensing under your touch.

He’s desperate for more, pressing you further into the bed as his lips explore your jaw, dipping his head into your neck to suck and nip at the sensitive skin. You tilt your head to grant him easier access, jaw slack and eyes glazed. His breath noticeably quickens when your fingers dip beneath his waistband, but you pause there.

You pull back suddenly, pushing hard against his chest as you practically have to peel him off of you.

“What’re-”

You slap a palm over his mouth, muffling the rest of his question until he can hear why you’ve paused. The sound of sock-clad footsteps on hardwood catches his attention and he quickly pulls away, putting enough distance between you to imply innocence. Sukuna pulls a pillow out from behind him, grunting as he sets it on his lap and leans his head back against the headboard.

Shortly after, the doorknob clicks and cracks open, a pair of golden-brown eyes peering into the room. Reddened and filled with tears, your mind sobers quickly as you hop off the bed and jog over to Choso to kneel before him.

“Hey, what’s going on?” You ask, taking in a breath to keep from panting.

“I had a nightmare.”

Ah. Sukuna had mentioned Choso had been having a lot of nightmares lately and it seemed to be keeping him up. You wonder if it’s related to his concerns regarding his older brother and the lawsuit. He may be young, but he seems to have a general understanding of the gravity of getting lawyers involved in situations.

Knowing what you know now about Sukuna’s family, you wonder if he’s been around lawyers before, given their father’s passing. Then there’s the question of Choso and Yuji’s mother, who’s clearly not in the picture anymore.

Quite literally.

You cast another glance back at Sukuna, whose chest is rising and falling heavily as he stares at the ceiling.

“That’s okay sweetheart, do you want me to come talk to you for a bit?”

Choso glances briefly at his brother before nodding. Smiling softly at him, you usher him out of the room and shut the door behind you, trailing after Sukuna’s little brother. He leads the way to his room, sitting on his bed.

Kneeling at the side of his bed, you keep your voice to a whisper to avoid waking his brother. “Did you want to talk about it, Cho?”

He considers this option for a moment, staring at his hands in his lap before shaking his head.

“That’s alright.” You smile reassuringly. “Your brother mentioned this has been happening a lot lately. I just want you to know you can talk to me if you need.”

Choso hesitates, staring down at his hands in his lap again, before shaking his head.

“That’s fine too. Do you want me to-”

“Chocho?” Yuji’s groggy voice sounds as he flips in his bed against the opposite wall, calling out your name as well.

“Go back to sleep, Yu. Your brother just had a nightmare,” you smile softly in the darkness of the room, your face illuminated only by a nightlight on the wall. You turn back to Choso. “Do you want me to read something until you fall back to sleep? I won’t let any monsters get you,” you reassure him with a grin.

Choso nods slowly.

“Great, what book?”

Choso peers over at the bookshelf, kicking his feet as he skims the titles on each spine. “I’ve already read all of these.”

Frowning, you tap your fingers on your thigh in thought. That had never stopped him from requesting Bridge to Terabithia before, but you suppose that’s neither here nor there at the moment.

What is with his taste in movies and books, why does he like the most heart wrenching titles?

“I could tell you a story,” you decide. Choso’s demeanor picks up as he nods eagerly, getting back in bed. You glance back at Yuji, who’s still quietly watching you. You suppose telling them a story won’t hurt. Pulling up a chair, you take a seat between the beds. “Once upon a time, there was a lovely princess. But she had an enchantment upon her of a fearful sort. Which would only be broken by love's first kiss. She was locked away in a castle, guarded by a terrible fire breathing dragon.”

You do your best to focus on your story-telling, although sitting in the dark waiting for the kids to fall asleep as you try to recall the story, something stirs in the back of your mind.

Something dread-inducing and sobering.

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t imagined your first kiss with Sukuna, dreamt of it in the back of your mind and forcibly pushed it down. It only made sense that Sukuna’s flirting was mainly out of jest and teasing, so you had swallowed your feelings and been what Sukuna needed the most. A friend.

Now with the time to think clearly, it occurs to you that there was no spark, no fireworks, and no romance behind the way you kissed. Neither of you had been chasing anything beyond surface-level lust, and you’re just as guilty as he is.

It’s painful to think that the image you’d had in the back of your mind for so long isn’t the reality, but that’s life, isn’t it? You may get another side of Sukuna that most don’t, but at the end of the day, you suppose that doesn’t mean he shares the feelings you caught for him. You had every opportunity to clarify what you wanted from him, but instead you slipped your fingers under his waistband.

Fuck.

Your heart clenches, your chest tightening at the realization that your friendship with Sukuna could very easily hang by a thread because you both got caught up in one another.

“The ogre and the donkey travel to…” you trail off at the realization that both kids are sound asleep, slipping out of the room with a pit of dread in your stomach.

With a sharp intake of air, you let out a breath and quietly open Sukuna’s room door.

“Hey…”

“Hey.” Sukuna hasn’t moved since you left the room.

Silence punctuates the air, the tension palpable and just as uncomfortable as you could have predicted. The friendship with Sukuna that you had worked so hard to nurture seems to hang precariously in the balance of discomfort and regret.

“Was that story fuckin’ Shrek?” Sukuna asks with narrowed eyes. It does little to quell the unease hanging low over your heads.

You laugh nervously. “Yeah. I didn’t know what story to tell.”

“Do you have the fuckin’ opening memorized?”

“I guess so,” you chuckle again, unable to meet his gaze. The silence spreads once again. “Um- I should go.”

Sukuna doesn’t know what to say. He shouldn’t have kissed you. He shouldn’t have grinded on you.

He doesn’t want to complicate something he doesn’t quite understand himself.

So why the hell does his stomach drop when those words leave your lips? Lips that were on his barely a half hour ago.

The uncertainty of where you sit with one another lies in the distance between you both. It settles like dust over a table left untouched for many years, yet it accumulated in only a few minutes. You want to reach out and find the answers you’re looking for, but you don’t have words.

What the hell are you supposed to say? You’ve hopelessly fallen for him and you don’t want whatever it is you have to end, even at the cost of unrequited feelings? No, Sukuna would push you away.

Sukuna doesn’t even attempt to clear the dust, he can only stare, wondering what’s going through your mind, because what’s going through his makes no sense to him.

Whatever it is that he’s feeling now, it’s a jumbled mess. It’s not the same distress he felt at the thought of you presenting alone and it’s not the lust he’d chased that left him with a painful erection.

Whatever he feels, it’s some sort of warning. Like an omen that he’s somehow fucked things up again with you, tearing a rift through the friendship that even he has worked hard to mend. He wonders if one heated kiss is enough to dissolve the effort he’d put into everything, if this changes what you had for good.

So why the hell are the next words to part his lips “yeah. See ya.”?

Watching you slip away, listening to you pack your belongings in a hurry and slip out the door without even a goodbye, Sukuna grits his teeth and slams his head back against the headboard. If the ground split open and swallowed him whole right now, he thinks he would prefer that to the sound of the front door shutting.

Fuck. Fuck, he did it again.

How many times would you let him fuck up your friendship before you deemed him not worth the time of day?

Shit, he hopes you’ll let him make it up to you once more, even if he’s not sure he deserves it.

What the hell was he thinking, anyway? Or, more likely, not thinking? Was he so driven by a need to wet his dick that he seeked out the one person he couldn’t bear to watch walk away from him?

Why is it that he can’t keep his mind clear when it comes to you?

Sukuna rubs his hands over his face. “Fuck.” Should he chase after you? No, no. He can’t have you thinking there’s any meaning behind his actions beyond whatever it was you already had.

And even he knows how fucked up of a thought that is, one that sits in the pit of his stomach like sour bile. He grimaces, blinking at the foreign feeling of guilt wrapping its ugly fingers tightly around him.

He pulls out his laptop, opening the email chain you’ve been using since the two of you met, but his fingers pause over the keyboard. What the hell is he supposed to say? ‘Sorry for kissing you’? ‘Sorry for thinking with my dick instead of my head’?

“Fuck,” he hisses, louder this time. Tossing his laptop on his bed, he trudges out into the living room, grabbing the broken cap of his lighter and its base from his coat pocket, and what’s left of his pack of cigarettes before standing out in the cold night air in only his sweatpants.

The nicotine hardly seems to make a dent in the toiling emotions tightening his chest and hollowing his stomach. He’s smoked his way through so many packs lately that the dent on his wallet and his reliance on the drug only seems to be growing, yet another pile of problems to add onto his list.

You’re the only thing that seems to quell his narcotic addiction, but you’ve got to be some sort of drug yourself with the way Sukuna behaves like a braindead dumbass around you.

Staring at the ember at the end of the cigarette in his hand, he sighs, leaning forward on the railing of the balcony. The cold doesn’t seem to touch him, like he’s numb to the world beyond his own issues.

Sukuna is a truly fucked man.

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❦ a/n ; poor sukuna and reader do nawwwt know how to make things easy on themselves 🙂‍↔️ thank you all so much for reading and for all the love and kind comments and asks, they seriously make my day and i'm so happy to chat with yall and hear your thoughts. shoutout as well to my reader who suggested a type o negative shirt cameo, this one's for you <33 reader is stronger than i am for not leaping on sukuna when he invited her into his room shirtless tbh. i am weak for him ANYWHO thaaank you as always and i hope you're all doing well <33

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