luna

he freezes. literally freezes.

his head drops.

“you’re—” a wheeze leaves his chest as his arms start to shake, “you’re such a little shit.”

“what?” you blink up at him with mock innocence. “was that too loud?”

“you’re doing it on purpose.”

“doing what on purpose?” you fake-gasp. “moaning? oh, daddy, right there—”

he slaps a hand over your mouth so fast you almost bite your tongue laughing.

“shut the fuck up,” he hisses through a grin, “before i actually make you cry.”

you whimper dramatically under his palm, all wide-eyed and needy, and he knows it’s all a game. you like pushing his buttons. testing his control. enjoy the thrill of maybe getting caught. even now, your legs lock tighter around his waist, trying to pull him deeper, shameless and soaked and begging for it with your body even when your mouth’s being punished.

toji leans in, voice low in your ear.

“you’re so lucky i’m already balls deep,” he mutters, thrusting just enough to make you gasp behind his hand, “or i’d flip you over and fuck you with a pillow in your mouth.”

your cunt clenches hard. you squeal into his palm.

his eyes darken.

“…you liked that?”

you nod furiously.

he groans under his breath— “fuckin’ brat.”

but he doesn’t stop.

he rocks into you harder, deeper, hand still covering your mouth, fingers splayed across your cheek as your muffled moans get higher and wetter. everytime the bed creaks, he curses and thrusts slower, rougher, meaner, just to make you squirm.

“gonna make a mess all over these sheets, huh?”

you try to say yesyesyes but all that comes out is a breathless little “mmghhh—!!”

toji smirks.

“what’s wrong? cat got your tongue?”

you glare at him. he thrusts particularly deep.

you go cross-eyed.

“that’s what i thought.”

you’re already so close it’s embarrassing. you didn’t even mean to get this turned on, but there’s something so hot about him trying to stay quiet for once. about the way he keeps biting back his groans. the sweat starting to bead on his temples as he mutters how tight you are, how good you feel, how much he wants to fuck a baby into you right here in your old bedroom.

you bite his palm when you cum.

and he laughs— low, breathless, feral. “ohh, you’re fucked.”

he doesn’t pull out.

he doesn’t stop.

he fucks you right through it— slow and deep and creamy, his dick twitching inside your spent cunt as you whine and twitch and suck him back in like your body wants him glued to you forever.

“better pray they’re not awake,” he grits, “’cause i’m not done.”

you blink up at him, dazed, flushed, lips kiss-swollen under his hand.

“…daddy?” you whisper again.

he slaps your thigh so hard it echoes.

“fucking menace.”

He nearly drops the phone. A low, broken sound escapes his throat before he can swallow it. The guy next to him glances over, but Choso hunches lower, hood up, trying to look like he’s just taking notes. His cock is already throbbing hard in his sweats, leaking against the fabric, and he can’t stop staring at the way your cunt clenches around the toy in the looping video.

Another buzz. This one’s a close-up selfie: your tits pushed together, nipples hard and shiny from your own spit, while your free hand spreads your pussy lips again, showing him the messy strings of arousal still clinging inside. “Wish you were here stretching me open instead… your fat cock would feel so much better than this. Hurry home after class?”

Choso bites his knuckle, eyes fluttering shut for a second as he pictures it, your tight, dripping heat sinking down on him just like you always do. He’s so hard it hurts. The lecture drags on, and you keep going, relentless. A new photo every few minutes: you riding a pillow, grinding your slick cunt against it with your head thrown back; another of you fingering yourself, three fingers buried deep, knuckles shiny; then one where you’re standing in front of the mirror, skirt flipped up, no panties, bending over so he can see your pussy from behind, lips puffy and begging.

By the time the professor dismisses everyone, Choso is a mess. His face is flushed, cock straining painfully against his clothes, a wet spot already forming where he’s been leaking nonstop. He practically bolts out of the building, texting you back with trembling thumbs: “you’re so fucking mean… I’m coming home right now. Gonna make you regret teasing me like this.”

Your reply is instant: a final nude, you lying on your back with your legs pulled up to your chest, pussy on full display, fingers spreading yourself wide so he can see how ready and open you are. “good boy, door’s unlocked. come use your pretty girlfriend’s cunt however you want… but only if you can stay quiet when I sit on your face and make you clean up all the mess you caused.”

Choso groans out loud in the hallway, drawing a few weird looks, but he doesn’t care. He’s already halfway home, cock aching, mind filled with nothing but the thought of burying his face between your thighs and finally, finally getting to taste the pussy that’s been torturing him all morning.

You push Choso back onto the bed the second he walks through the door, still wearing his hoodie from class. He barely has time to drop his bag before you’re climbing over him, knees planted on either side of his head, skirt already hiked up around your waist. No panties. Just your bare, dripping cunt hovering inches above his face.

“Baby wait—” he starts, eyes wide, but you cut him off by lowering yourself right onto his mouth.

“Shh. Sit there and take it,” you murmur, grinding your slick pussy against his lips. You settle your full weight down, smothering him completely, your soft thighs squeezing the sides of his head. His nose presses into your mound, mouth forced open under your heat. “You’ve been hard all day because of me. Now you’re going to eat this cunt like a good boy until I say stop.”

Choso groans loudly into your folds, the sound vibrating straight through your clit. His hands fly up to grip your hips, but he doesn’t push you away. He pulls you closer instead, tongue dragging desperately through your soaked slit. You taste sweet and messy, still dripping from all the teasing you sent him earlier. He laps at you hungrily, sucking your folds into his mouth, nose buried so deep he can barely breathe.

You rock your hips slowly at first, riding his face like it’s your personal toy. “That’s it. Use that pretty tongue. You wanted this so bad, didn’t you? Sending you all those pictures… knowing your cock was leaking in class while I played with my pussy.”

He whimpers beneath you, muffled and broken. His tongue pushes inside your tight hole, fucking in and out as best he can while you smother him. You can feel his hot breath panting against your cunt, desperate little gasps whenever you lift just enough for him to steal air. Then you sink back down, grinding harder, clit rubbing over his tongue in tight circles.

“Fuck, Choso. Your face feels soooo good,” you moan, leaning forward to brace your hands on the headboard. Your hips move faster now, riding his mouth with wet, filthy sounds. Slick coats his chin, his cheeks, drips down to his neck. He’s making these desperate, sloppy noises, sucking and licking like he’ll die if he stops. “Don’t you dare stop. You’re gonna make me cum all over your tongue.”

Choso’s fingers dig into the fat of your ass, spreading you wider so he can bury his face deeper. His cock strains painfully in his sweats, untouched and throbbing, but he doesn’t even try to touch himself. He just takes it. Takes every roll of your hips, every clench of your pussy against his mouth. When you start bouncing lightly, smothering him in short, rough grinds, his moans turn into frantic, muffled cries.

“You’re so fucking pathetic like this,” you tease, voice breathy and mean. “Lying there letting your girlfriend use your face. Can you even breathe, baby? Or is my cunt all you need?”

He shakes his head slightly, still devouring you, tongue flicking wildly over your swollen clit. His eyes are glassy and wet when you glance down, cheeks flushed dark red. You press down harder, completely smothering him for a few long seconds, feeling him twitch and struggle beneath you before lifting just enough to hear his ragged gasp.

“Good boy,” you purr, grinding your clit right against his tongue again. “Keep going. Make me cum. I wanna soak your whole face.”

Choso doubles his efforts, sucking your clit between his lips, tongue swirling fast and perfect. His hands knead your ass, pulling you down whenever you try to ease up. He’s completely lost in it, moaning nonstop into your pussy, the vibrations pushing you closer and closer.

You ride his face harder, thighs trembling around his head, until the pleasure snaps tight inside you. “Fuck— aaaah... Choso im cummin'—”

Your orgasm crashes over you, pussy clenching and gushing all over his tongue. You grind down through it, smothering him completely while you shake and moan, flooding his mouth with your release. He drinks every drop, licking you clean like he’s starving, soft desperate whimpers still vibrating against your sensitive folds.

When you finally lift off, his face is a shiny mess, lips swollen, eyes dazed and adoring. He gasps for air, chest heaving, but his tongue still darts out to chase any drop he missed.

You smile down at him, stroking his wet hair. “We’re not done yet. Catch your breath… then I’m sitting back down. You’re going to keep eating this pussy until I can’t cum anymore.”

Choso just nods weakly, voice hoarse. “Yes… please. Use me. I want it all.” His cock twitches hard in his pants, leaking steadily, ready for whatever mean thing you do to him next.

Who apparently must have bribed one of your friends to find out what you were wearing tonight judging by the flimsy white fabric he had loosely fastened into a toga and the much bigger angel wings attached to his back, the only part of his costume that was actually store-bought. His halo was shiny and silver and made of what looked fucking tinfoil, standing out above his fluffy white hair and about to fall off at any second.

Satoru was standing by the front door, holding a huge candy bowl and proudly passing it to some frat initiate next to him the second he saw you.

"There's my girl," he happily purred, slinging an arm around your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes, shrugging him off with an exaggerated sigh. It wasn't that you really minded his flirting - but you didn't need everyone here to think you were his. Satoru's words carried weight, more than he actually realized.

"You wish," you teased, batting your lashes and pushing past him to walk through the cracked-open door. The music you could hear from the street was jarring inside, bass thumping loud enough you could feel it in your bones as Yuki slipped out to go greet someone else.

Satoru was harder to shake off.

"You know I do," he hummed, following close behind you, his own angel wings making everyone else skirt around him in a wide berth.

He plucked out one of your feathers feather with a light laugh, the one that always seemed to take up space in your head after you heard it. You swatted at his hand, but he was already holding it over your head like it was fucking mistletoe.

"C'mon, sweetheart," he hummed. "Just one kiss for your favorite guy?"

Currently, you would rank him like number four or maybe even five, but you bit your tongue. Didn't have it in you to correct him. Got up on your tip toes to press a begrudging kiss on the corner of his mouth instead.

"Happy?"

"For now," he grinned.

You let him tug you into the kitchen, listening to him ramble on about someone you wanted to meet later. You didn't ask how he was planning on introducing you - and honestly, you didn't want to know.

For a guy who could have any girl on campus, he seemed awfully inclined to tack on a label to something you were both better off leaving unnamed.

Why ruin a nice thing?

Turn sloppy make outs and occasional casual sex into anything that could be construed as serious?

People were shouting his name as you passed by, one of those wide grins creeping across his face as his halo nearly fell off with how much he kept swiveling his head to greet his friends and the other girls who wanted to fuck him.

They could have him tonight.

You casually replied back to whatever he was chatting to you about, nodding and keeping an eye out for a head of pink hair while he rummaged through the fridge and pulled out some drinks. One of his frat bothers came up, leaning in to ask about how many kegs they had as Satoru rolled his eyes.

You managed to slip away before he even finishing cracking open his hard lemonade. Glancing over your shoulder at the irritatingly cute way his nose scrunched up at the sour taste at his first sip.

There was some foreign uncomfortable pressure in your chest, squeezing all your organs as you snuck out - forcing yourself to set your mind back on your mission.

It only took five minutes to find him.

Sukuna was reclining on a couch in one of the back rooms, thick thighs spread and smoking a blunt while heavy music blasted in the background. He hadn't bothered with anything other than his typical lazy outfit, a long-sleeved shirt clinging to his chest, loose jeans ripped and torn.

His head tilted to the side, a tiny smirk curling up on his lips as you walked over, wobbling on your heels as you pretended to be just a smidge more drunk than you really were so you'd be able to get away with more. Have an excuse in case you got rejected, easily slotting yourself in the empty spot next to him as his eyes dragged over your costume.

"Can I help you?" He grunted, like he wasn't considering what his dick might look like between your tits.

You looked down at the roll still perched between his fingers and then up to his lips.

"We could help each other," you slyly suggested, letting the implication hang in the air and biting your bottom lip.

"Oh yeah?" He arched a brow, still feigning nonchalance, but you knew better.

You had him.

He patted his lap, and it was so easy to toss your legs over his. He didn't touch you yet - let you do the work of scooting closer while he held out his blunt.

All you needed to do was wrap your lips around it. Except you got caught in the act.

"If you wanted some weed, I would've bought it for you," someone dryly commented behind you, and your manicured fingers paused above the blunt before you could reach out and grab it.

Throwing a look over your shoulder, angel wings fluttering as your eyes locked onto your second problem of the evening.

Suguru was smiling at you, perched all pretty on another man's lap, but it was hollow. The way his lips curled up was more like a smirk, one that spelled out trouble. He'd chosen some cheesy priest costume this year, as if he wasn't hoping to be worshipped himself.

"I'm just looking for a little fun," you hummed, daring him to say something else.

Suguru wasn't like Satoru. They were sorta similar, in a funny way, although you weren't sure if they even knew each other. Carried the kind of gravity that sucked you in. Satoru's was light, airy, playful like you were just animals batting back-and-forth with each other. Suguru?

He was closer to a panther, watching you with those dark eyes, waiting to strike and get you underneath his paw.

"You think you'll find it here?" He challenged, and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop your smile. He knew you wouldn't be able to resist the temptation of taking him up on whatever he was offering.

"You're the worst," you groaned, giving in before he could pick a fight and completely ruin your chance with Sukuna.

God, he knew how to derail your plans. With him though, you didn't really mind. Not when you could see if he was planning on putting those thick fingers to use for something other than strumming his stupid guitar.

You untangled yourself from Sukuna with a sigh, squeezing his thigh as you stood up. Suguru didn't step in how Satoru probably would have, waited for you to get close enough before one of his huge hands pressed down on the small of your back beneath your fake wings.

"Hey," Sukuna called out, and you barely concealed your own smirk when you looked back.

"Oh yeah?" You mimicked him. Tilting your head innocently, batting your lashes as cute as you could.

"I'll see you around."

You'd make sure of that.

Suguru stiffened, and you caught the way his mouth twitched before his thumb dug into your spine. He was pretty when he was jealous. The little pinch in his brows. The subtle clench of his jaw.

As if he didn't have his own fan club of sorority girls chasing after him.

He noticed you staring as he led you out of the room, squeezing in between passing people and up the stairs, his dark eyes swirling as they kept shifting down to see if you were still looking.

"What?" He asked, as if he didn't know.

"You're cute," you commented, shrugging a little bit.

"I thought I was the worst?" He teased, and you tried not to laugh.

Struggling to keep a straight face when his hand drifted lower, dancing over the curve of your ass right as he knocked twice on a door down the hall before pushing it open, peeking in first to make sure no one was inside.

And then he was dragging you to the bed, half-flopping down before pulling you on top of him. A hand on your ass, under your dress, possessive as you straddled him and got comfortable. A hint of annoyance still clinging to the corners of his mouth at the thought Sukuna got to have you on his lap first.

Even if he hadn't gotten a taste.

"What do you think you're doin' with a guy like that?" He asked, attempting to pull off your wings. For a guy who looked like he was ready to preach about heaven, you had a sinking feeling he wanted to drag you to hell with him.

"I don't know what I'm doing with a guy like you," you retorted, echoing him just to get a soft chuckle out. Dragging your finger down his chest, feeling for where his pants were underneath the dark tunic - and that thick bulge barely hidden, just waiting for your palm to press down.

"You want me to remind you?"

All it took was a smile for him to give up on plucking your wings to pull out his cock. It was one of the thicker ones you'd seen, a long vein pulsing all pretty along the side as pre-cum collected around his tip.

But before you could do anything with it, his hand was on your side, dragging you in for a kiss. Demanding, tongue on your teeth and hand in your hair, tethering you to him with soft kisses that didn't taste drunk.

Maybe a little hint of something sweet, but no nasty aftertaste of beer or alcohol clinging to him when he deepened it, sucking on your bottom lip like he'd die if he didn't.

His kisses ventured south - and it didn't take long for him to yank your tits free from your corset. Wrapping his mouth around one to suck hard, sharp canines grazing over your sensitive nipple while you whined his name.

Suguru was never sloppy, but he wasn't as precise as he usually was during your typical hookups. Dragging his tongue over the sore spots his teeth left, remarking the same places like he was just having fun.

Your chest was warm, pleasant heat drifting down to your core as you glanced around the room. It was dark, only the headlights of passing cars and the warm yellow lights street lamps bleeding through the window to illuminate the soft blue of the wrinkled comforter underneath you, dorky posters of characters you didn't know plastered on all the walls.

Suguru wasn't in a frat - but you guessed maybe it was his friend's room. You preferred not to hookup with a guy in their own bed. They got ideas of you being theirs.

But this wasn't a bad loophole.

"I don't like the idea of sharing you," Suguru confessed, his cock throbbing underneath you when your weight shifted down.

"Too bad," you teased, smirking as he barely stifled his own groan at the contact.

He might've made you eat those words - but the universe seemed to have something to say about it too.

The door swung open and someone too familiar stumbled in.

Your heart sank to your fucking ass. Staring at the open door, Satoru's hazy blue eyes sharpening fast the second they landed on you on top of someone else.

"Baby," he breathed. "I'm wounded."

Before you could say anything, Suguru was sitting up with an exaggerated scoff. Still holding you in place, but pulling you up against his chest to hide your breasts from Satoru. Oblivious that he had already seen them.

"How many times have I told you not to call me baby?" Suguru grinded his back molars, exhaling hard as his fingers sank deeper into your back. You blinked, trying to process what that meant before Satoru was rolling his eyes.

"I was talking to her," he huffed, pointing at you.

"You're sleeping with him?" Suguru fixed you in a hard frown, head snapping between the two of you like he couldn't conceive it.

"That's supposed to be my line," Satoru retorted, hands on his hip, moving a little to call attention to his wings like he was trying to show off the fact you were unfortunately matching him in front of Suguru.

"You guys, um, know each other?" You awkwardly asked, as if it wasn't obvious. Satoru snorted.

"Apparently not as well as you," Suguru muttered, more jealous than he started off as.

"Don't be mean to my princess," Satoru defensively said, and you both swiveled to stare blankly at him.

"I'm not-" You started, about to hold up your hand before he kept talking.

"Did you really ditch me for Suguru?" He whined, walking over casually, like he was ready to just fucking climb in bed with the two of you.

"No," you shook your head, avoiding the actual answer.

Suguru laughed though, and you shot him a glare to shut up. His dark eyes had narrowed though, amusement glittering in them as he leaned in.

"Seriously? You and that idiot?" Suguru chided, all low and a little sleazy, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

"Hey," Satoru pouted, standing directly in front of you now, pulling your attention back to him with two firm fingers on your chin. "I can hear you too, y'know."

"I know," Suguru sharply replied. Daring him to do something, as he continued in a low drawl. "You've got terrible taste, pretty girl."

"Clearly if she wants you," Satoru scrunched his nose up again to argue.

"She wanted Sukuna earlier," Suguru ratted you out, and you felt the pulse of his cock, the bite to his voice that made it clear he was itching to claim you.

"What?" Satoru's perky voice dropped into something sharp enough to skewer your heart.

"Caught her on his lap," Suguru revealed, like he was letting him in on some juicy bit of gossip.

"Were you gonna fuck him on my sheets too?" He bluntly asked, pretty lips pushed together as he leaned in close enough for his nose to nudge against yours.

The tension was too thick to slice through, filling up your lungs when you sucked in a shaky breath. An even worse idea than your initial one starting to form as your eyes flicked between each man.

The only thing better than one hot guy was two, wasn't it?

"What are you guys gonna do about it?"

You felt Suguru's smirk against your throat before Satoru chuckled, surprisingly deep as he cupped your cheek.

"You really wanna find out?"

You were really in trouble now. Had fucked around and found out just how much your flings could take before they were finished.

Literally and figuratively and soon-to-be stuffed with proof of just how screwed with you.

But their hands were too nice to ever say no to. Their mouths latched all over your body, throwing jabs at each other while they pulled-and-pushed you between them. A blur of fingers and cocks and tongues, your angel wings and panties discarded somewhere on the floor so you could be stretched out on Suguru's thick digits. Scissoring you open just to replace it with his unfairly large dick, dragging it against his walls and bucking his hips up so you kept falling forward on his chest. Relying on him for support while Satoru painted your back and shoulders with hickies, his chest against your back so you were stuck between them.

And then Satoru straining to reach past you to pull out a bottle of lube, softly muttering that he could satisfy you more than either of them ever could - only earning a scoff from Suguru.

"How do, um, you guys know each other?" You stammered out the question, breathing heavily between each word, eyeing where Satoru had stationed himself behind you as he squeezed an intimidating amount on his palm, already rubbing some on his cock before his cold hand started drifting down your ass. Skimming over your other hole, previously unbreached before he slowly started pushing the tip of a finger in.

He hesitated, testing the waters to see if you wanted it before you nodded yes, as if anal was a fucking peace offering.

"We've been best friends since high school," Satoru easily replied, like this was a conversation you were having in class instead of while you were being fucked and fingered.

"D-do you guys do this, like, a lot?" You asked, eyes scrunching shut as Suguru's tip grinded against a sweet spot inside of you, your nails digging into his chest for purchase as Satoru continued his steady exploration of the other parts of you.

"Do you?" Suguru remarked, his next thrust accidentally forcing Satoru's fingers further in time with him, a pathetic little whine torn from the back of your throat as you clawed at him again.

Your lips were stuck in a permanent part, about to say no, but you couldn't find it in yourself to form a single coherent word as Satoru readjusted just enough to slot another finger in your ass, the searing stretch rewiring your brain until you could only think about how fucking full you felt.

It wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but teetering on the brink of brain-breaking as he started to pump his fingers in and out, the weight of his chest starting to press down as he swirled them around just enough you could feel the thin barrier between him and Suguru straining to contain both of them. A new kind of intense you never experienced before, hyper aware of each and every movement and still lost in all of it.

"You think you can handle the real thing, baby?" Satoru tempted you, his mouth pressing a painfully soft kiss to your shoulder before his tongue licked a clean stripe up your neck. Making you shiver, seeking their warmth like a second skin.

"Mm, mhm," you mindlessly moaned, a tiny little whimper escaping when his fingers slid out and something even more enticing pressed against the base of your ass instead.

At least he wasn't as thick as Suguru was.

Unfortunately for you though?

He was longer.

The new stretch was brutal, but the lube and his fingers managed to loosen you up enough that the sting of his cock slowly sliding in was pleasurable instead of painful.

Suguru's mouth was back on yours, capturing you in reverent kisses while Satoru worshipped you from behind, slow strokes eventually picking up the pace, messy squelches and lewd moans drowned out by the party still thumping outside. Although if someone was standing on the other side of the wall, they might have heard the bed frame constantly knocking into it in time with their mean thrusts.

You were folded almost flat between them. Knees digging into the wrinkled blankets, thighs still spread wide as both their dicks dug in deeper. Drool probably leaking out of your lips before Suguru lapped it up.

"Am I not good enough for you?" Satoru huffed in your ear, teeth nipping at you while you were splayed in this position, buried in your ass while he nagged you about his feelings.

"I jus' don't w-want a boyfriend right now," you managed, slurring half your words when your lungs could barely get any air in them. Suguru's cock felt like it was fucking lodged in your throat, insides being rearranged by both of them.

"But if you did-"

And because your night wasn't messy enough, the door swung open for the second time tonight.

Your knight in cardboard armor had arrived.

And Nanami Kento was not happy at what he walked into.

His favorite tutoring student being sandwiched between morons number one and two. And maybe math wasn't your best subject either, but it wasn't hard to calculate that he didn't approve.

"Ken," you started, batting your lashes like both your holes weren't being filled. Like you could manage more than broken thinking and begging when you couldn't even breathe.

As if Satoru wasn't still halfway in your ass where he could see the filthy connection between your bodies.

"God, do not tell me that you've been hooking up with him too," Satoru whined. "He's the fucking frat treasurer."

Somehow, you missed that memo.

"Maybe?" You offered, both dicks inside you throbbing and pulsing as Suguru snickered. His own jealousy only overwritten by his amusement at Satoru being more jealous.

As if this was a competition he'd ever win by being nonchalant.

"Your presence was requested downstairs," Kento dryly said, his annoyed stare settling on Satoru, arms folding across his chest.

"Sorta busy, man," Satoru huffed, but your heart pulsed at the way Nanami started to turn.

"Unless you wanna join too?" You called out all airy and soft, watching his shoulders freeze.

"Are you suggesting I-?" He stopped himself, pushing the bridge of his glasses higher up on his nose while you stuck out your bottom lip.

"What? Are you scared?" Satoru eagerly joined in, ready to ragebait Nanami or call him a pussy for passing on yours.

"No," Kento scoffed, a faint hint of pink blooming underneath his cheeks.

"We could always see if Sukuna wants to join since you liked his attention so much," Suguru sarcastically added, that familiar edge in his honeyed hum, his cock grinding in deeper, kissing your cervix to make you whimper in front of the blond.

"This is a horrible idea," Kento muttered, and you were inclined to agree. But he just locked the door - throwing away his better judgment for the night.

The only thing all three of them seemed to agree on was their dislike for him. Or maybe just their want for you.

Kento stopped at the edge of the bed, as if touching it would mean he was just as bad as the rest of you. Your eyes hesitantly looked up to meet his, but instead of disgust waiting for you, it was just the faintest flicker of disappointment drowning in an amber sea of something much stronger.

Desire.

He knew he never had all of you. And he'd make due with what you could give him.

Right now? That meant your throat.

It was a little awkward at first, but then he was pulling his dick free too, one knee on the bed to position himself at the right height for where your face was. Although Suguru side-eyed the pale member, making sure it didn't get too close to him before your lips parted, tongue out and ready.

"Y'know," Satoru unhelpfully chimed in behind you. "It's bigger than I thought it'd be."

"Shut up," Kento hissed through gritted teeth before he stuck his dick in your mouth like he was trying to get you to stop talking instead.

But you took it, cheeks hollowing out as you sucked on him, barely keeping your own teeth from grazing him when your body was being tugged three different ways. His strong fingers tangling in your hair to pull you in, cock bobbing in the back of your throat. Suguru's hands on your side to hold you in place while he pumped you full. Satoru's full weight on your back keeping you pinned there for all of them to fuck.

"Your mouth's better than your hand," Kento slyly murmured, and Mr. Cool and Collected underneath you snapped, his dark brows furrowing together and throwing his competition a seething glare.

"How romantic," Suguru retorted, all snarky as you struggled to breathe through your nose.

You didn't think you'd ever done anything so filthy.

And you only wanted more, body trembling and shaking as you whined and whimpered for them. You could feel the sinful way you were squeezing down on Satoru and Suguru, the wall barely separating and holding both of them in as they dragged themselves in-and-out over and over again. All your sounds muffled by the girth of Kento pressed up against the roof of your mouth. You didn't even know whose name you would moan if you could.

Completely and utterly filled, their words going in one ear and out the other as you took their thrusts.

You had no idea who came first.

Maybe Satoru? Or Suguru? Both?

Overwhelmed by sudden warmth down between your thighs, deep groans as someone's fingers found your clit. You were pretty sure it was the former, judging by the sloppy little circles being rubbed over the sensitive bud. Messy massages, just as desperate and needy as you were as he moaned your name into your skin, his teeth sinking down on your shoulder as he worked you closer to a climax.

"Come on, sweetheart," he purred, pleading. "Cum for me, okay?"

You still didn't have the heart to tell him no.

With the pressure of his fingers, his arm wrapped around your waist to get better access, or maybe just from how full you were, the rubber band barely holding you together snapped hard and fast.

The noise it ripped from you sounded like some animal, all strangled and raw, the reverberations making Kento cum too, warm ropes of cum shot down your throat, nearly making you choke. The veins against your tongue throbbing briefly before he abruptly pulled out like your gag concerned him just for another thick spurt of it to suddenly coat your face.

Satoru's fingers were still underneath you, still rubbing you through it, Suguru's voice coaxing you and offering pretty praises while Kento cursed, pumping his cock as the last of it dripped out on your lips.

You felt like a puddle. Reduced down to something limp and boneless, collapsed on Suguru's chest while Nanami cleaned you up, grabbing a pair of boxers from the closest drawer after asking Satoru if it was actually fresh. Suguru was saying something to his friend too, but he was preoccupied pulling out of your sore ass, his fingers disappearing from your front as he shifted off of you. Someone was brushing your hair from your face, but your eyes were closed, lashes still fluttering as exhaustion set into your bones. Cum still leaking down your thighs, probably a mess soaking into Satoru's sheets, a mix of all of you.

Maybe you didn't get to fuck Sukuna. But surely this was better, wasn't it?

You could just try again next party.

other kinktober fics

a/n: feel kinda meh about how it turned out but hope you guys liked it <3

Your phone buzzed softly against the counter.

you home.

No greeting, no question mark—just the absolute assumption of an open door.

yeah.

Three dots appeared instantly.

open up.

A heavy knock followed seconds later.

"Geez. No 'please' or anything" you mumbled, tossing your phone back onto the counter.

Opening the door revealed Ryomen Sukuna leaning against the frame as if he’d been waiting all night. A familiar presence filled the doorway before he even spoke, the air growing heavy with his warm, spicy cologne. Red eyes flicked down, assessing the view. “Thought you were asleep.”

“Bruh, you literally just texted me.”

He hummed, brushing past without waiting for an invitation. His hand lingered briefly on the small of your back, pressing just enough to claim the space before letting go. You shut the door behind him. “You’re going to start paying rent at this point." Sukuna stretched out on your couch, arms draped lazily across the cushions with a smirk. “You’d miss me.” An eye roll was the only response you gave him, but neither side pushed the argument.

Weeks passed in a blur of late nights and shared silences. A heavy hand would rest on your waist during trips around the kitchen, fingers brushing the curve of your hip and teasingly lingering during the morning coffee brew. On walks together, he closed the distance entirely, slipping a hand into the back pocket of your jeans. No matter how many times that hand was swatted away with a muttered, “People are going to think we’re dating” the pink haired man just shrugged, keeping his hand firmly planted against ur ass. He always stood slightly behind or beside you, a silent declaration: I’m here.

Sometimes he waited after lectures, leaning against the campus gate with a lazy, half smirk, arms crossed as the crowd filtered past. Spotting him always made your stomach twist, knowing he’d been waiting long before the dismissal bell. His gaze would lock on, serving as a quiet warning to anyone walking too close.

Nights were spent sharing the couch and stealing blankets, half tangled around his large frame while the remaining fabric barely covered your lap. Sometimes he drapes himself across you, a hand brushing lightly down your arm or against your thigh—never intrusive, but entirely claiming the space. When he relaxed completely, your fingers wander over his tattoos, tracing the sharp lines along his face and chest. Each mark felt almost magnetic under the skin. He would hum low, letting the attention slide, a thumb occasionally brushing your wrist to claim the movement. His chest rose and fell steadily beneath your fingertips, a slight smirk evident in the way he adjusted his posture to keep your hand exactly where he wanted it.

There were nights spent falling asleep in his bed after an argument left unfinished—bodies pressed tight, the quiet between you louder than any words. Other mornings started tangled in his arms, hair brushing his chest, fingers clutching his shirt before fully waking up. His hand would curl around your wrist, a thumb tracing small, slow circles. The habits became second nature to notice: how he leaned a fraction closer when a stranger got too near. The amused smirk whenever a tease was thrown back at him. The trademark "tch" or scoff of annoyance that left his lips. Pressing his forehead to yours in the early mornings, claiming the first minutes of the day. Playing the thief with a tilted head and a lazy, "Oops, that's my spot now" daring an argument.

Almost like a couple. But without labels or promises, the unresolved tension grew nearly unbearable.

Tonight, gojo's house was packed. The bass vibrated faintly through the floorboards, drowning out the roar of the crowded room. People moved in a blur of red cups and loud laughter.

Pausing near the entrance to scan the room, your eyes landed across the living room. Sukuna leaned against the back of a couch, looking entirely too comfortable. A few girls crowded his space, laughing a little too loudly at whatever he’d just muttered. One girl rested a hand on tattooed arm. Another leaned in close, fingers brushing his shoulder. He let them.

Your jaw tightened.

His eyes found yours instantly, as if he’d known the exact second you walked through the door. The crowd seemed to fade under his direct stare. Across the room, through flashing lights and shifting bodies, he just watched. A slow smirk pulled at his lips, waiting to see the reaction. The girl beside him kept talking, her fingers resting on his arm, tracing the very same tattoos you usually spent hours mapping out. Sukuna didn’t move away. He just looked on—unbothered and thoroughly amused.

Typical.

Turning away before he could read anything else on your face, you made a beeline for the kitchen. A quick adjustment was made to the hem of the mini black off shoulder dress, the fabric hugging your waist and tight at the hips. Gold open toe heels clicked softly against the floorboards, gold hoops swaying with the quick tilt of your head. The reflective surface of the fridge offered a quick glimpse—makeup intact, shoulders tense, face slightly flushed from the scene in the living room. Pulling the door open, the cool light spilled out as you grabbed a drink.

“Careful with that one” a voice warned.

Turning around revealed a guy leaning against the counter, sporting a charming smile. “Trust me. It’s stronger than it looks.”

A small laugh escaped you. “I’ll take my chances.”

The guy laughed, stepping a bit closer to be heard over the booming music. “So… what brings you here alone?”

A shrug followed. “Just needed a drink and a break from… life.”

His smirk widened. “I get that. Same here.”

The conversation began to flow more freely, a genuine laugh sparking at a joke he made. It felt easy. The guy leaned in, lowering his voice. “You know, you’ve got this energy. Makes people really want to talk to you.”

A smile crept up, a sudden flutter stirring in your chest—until a familiar scent hit the air. Warm, spicy, and impossible to ignore. The exact aroma that lingered on your clothes every time he pulled you in.

Sukuna.

A heavy pair of arms slid around your waist from behind. His broad chest pressed flush against your back, almost swallowing you as he pulled you back. One hand settled flat against your stomach while the other grazed your hip, fingers brushing the edge of your short dress to anchor you firmly against him. The fabric shifted under his grip, lifting fractionally as you instinctively braced on your heels. Sukuna wasn’t looking at you. His eyes were locked dead on the guy across the counter. Slowly, the pink haired man dipped his head, his nose brushing the side of your neck before settling into the crook of your shoulder. Warm breath ghosted over your bare skin, his fingers tightening just enough to claim you. The gentle sway of gold hoops brushed against him with every shallow inhale.

The guy stiffens. “Oh—uh. Sorry, man, I didn’t know—”

“No” you interrupted, trying to shift out of his grasp. “We’re not—”

“Yeah” Sukuna cuts in smoothly, his voice low. “You should go.”

The guy hesitated, muttered a quick, “Right… my bad” and vanished into the crowd.

You turn inside Sukuna’s arms, looking up at him. “Bruh, what's your problem?” 

Sukuna looked down as if nothing had happened.

“You’re not my boyfriend” you huffed out.

His eyes slowly searched your face before letting out a slight scoff.

Pushing lightly against his chest, you snapped, “Stop acting like you own me.”

He simply watched, absorbing the defiance. Then, with a sudden tug at your waist, he pulled you closer. The hem of your dress rode up your ass slightly before his hand reached behind to pull the fabric back into place.

“You want a boyfriend?” His thumb dragged slowly along your jawline, tilting your face up to force eye contact. "That what this is about?”

Silence was the only answer, making his eyes narrow. “Tch. Greedy.”

The music and chatter faded into background noise—the space between you grew heavy. Sukuna hummed softly, his hand sliding back down to the small of your back. His fingers settled there as if they had never left, pressing into the curve. Your heels click softly against the floor as he adjusts his hold, keeping the fit perfect. “And yet” he murmured, leaning closer, “you still let me do this.” Your breath catches when he pulls you a fraction closer. 

“Doesn’t really sound like you want a boyfriend” Sukuna said lazily. Dipping his head lower, his lips trailed light kisses along your neck—the same familiar routine he’d done a thousand times before. It made your stomach twist. A sharp inhale brought in his spicy cologne, mixing with the soft sweetness of vanilla perfume until your head spun.

“Sounds like you just want me.” His lips brushed the shell of your ear, a low, teasing vibration. “Go ahead… say you’re leaving me.”

The words never came.

A slow smile spread across his face. Because he already knows you won’t.