C

When you reach into the bag five minutes later, your fingers find nothing but sugar dust.

You stare down at it.

Then at Yuji.

He’s sitting against the headboard with the popcorn bowl balanced on his stomach, watching the movie with an expression of complete innocence. His cheeks are suspiciously full.

“Yuji.”

His eyes stay on the television. “Hm?”

“Open your mouth.”

He immediately covers it with one hand.

You narrow your eyes. “You ate all of them.”

He shakes his head, still chewing.

“The bag is empty.”

Another shake.

“I can literally see you chewing.”

Yuji swallows with visible effort. “Could’ve been anything.”

“What else would it be?”

“Popcorn.”

“The popcorn is in your lap.”

He glances down at the bowl as though this is new information.

“Oh.”

“You are such a liar.”

“I saved you one.”

Your anger pauses.

“You did?”

Yuji reaches into the pocket of his hoodie and pulls out a single gummy worm. It’s bent slightly from being carried around and covered in lint.

He holds it out to you with a hopeful smile.

You stare at it. “You put it in your pocket?”

“I was protecting it.”

“From who?”

“Me.”

“That clearly didn’t work.”

“It’s still there.”

“It has lint on it.”

He rubs it against the front of his hoodie. “There. Fixed.”

You slap his hand away when he tries to offer it again.

“Eat it.”

His face brightens. “Really?”

“No, Yuji. I want you to frame it.”

He pops it into his mouth before you finish speaking. You grab a handful of popcorn and throw it at him. Yuji rolls sideways, laughing as several pieces bounce off his face and disappear into the blankets.

“Hey!”

“You deserved that.”

“You told me to eat it!”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“How am I supposed to know that?”

“You’ve known me for two years.”

“And you’re sarcastic all the time. It all blends together.”

You reach for more popcorn. Yuji immediately curls around the bowl, shielding it with his body. “No.”

“Give it to me.”

“You’re going to waste it.”

“I’m going to throw it at you.”

“Exactly.”

You crawl across the bed and grab the rim. Yuji tightens both arms around it. “Let go.”

“You already attacked me once.”

“You stole my candy.”

“I saved you one.”

“You kept it in your pocket like a loose cough drop.”

“It was still good.”

“It was furry.”

“That was sugar.”

“That was lint.”

Yuji grins, his grip tightening when you pull harder. The movie continues behind you, completely ignored. Something explodes loudly onscreen. Neither of you cares to look. 

“Give me the bowl.”

“Say please.”

“Give me the bowl before I bite you.”

His eyebrows lift. “You wouldn’t.”

You lean closer. Yuji’s grin falters for half a second. It’s quick enough that you almost miss it. His eyes drop to your mouth, then back up before you can decide whether you imagined it or not. 

You smile slowly. “Scared?”

“No.”

“You look scared.”

“I’m not scared of you.”

“You should be.”

“You’re five-foot-nothing.”

“That’s never stopped me before.”

“You needed me to open a jar yesterday.”

“The lid was defective.”

“You handed it to me and said, ‘Use your freakish strength.’”

“And you did.”

“Because you called me strong.”

“You’re embarrassingly easy to flatter.”

His ears turn pink, then he yanks the popcorn bowl toward his chest. But you refuse to release it. The two of you stare at each other over the rim. Then the plastic bowl bends between your hands and launches popcorn everywhere.

You both freeze. Popcorn covers Yuji’s lap, the blankets, the floor, and somehow the top of his head. One piece rests perfectly on his shoulder. Your mouth twitches.

Yuji points at you. “Don’t.”

You laugh.

“Don’t laugh.”

You try to stop. You really do. Then he looks down at the disaster between you with such deep betrayal that you lose it completely.

“This was your fault,” he says.

“You pulled it!”

“You threatened to bite me!”

“And you were asking for it!”

“I was protecting the snacks!”

“There are no snacks left!”

“There’s popcorn everywhere!”

“Not in the bowl!”

Yuji grabs the nearest pillow. Your laughter cuts off.

“Don’t you dare.”

He swings it at you. The pillow catches you across the side of the head and knocks you backward into the blankets. You stare up at him, and his smile widens.

“Oh, you’re dead.”

He barely has time to lift the pillow again before you launch yourself at him. The two of you crash sideways across the bed, both laughing too hard to actually do anything. You grab at the pillow. Yuji holds it over his head, using his longer arms to keep it away from you.

“That’s cheating!”

“How?”

“You’re taller!”

“That’s not cheating… That’s genetics.”

“You’re using them maliciously.”

“You attacked me first!”

“You ate my candy!”

You climb over him, reaching for the pillow with one hand while the other pushes against his shoulder. Yuji twists away, still laughing, and you end up sprawled across his chest. Neither of you acknowledges it. You make another grab for the pillow. Yuji catches your wrist. You try with your other hand. He catches that one too.

“Got you,” he says.

“You absolutely do not have me.” 

You jerk one wrist, then the other. His grip holds, but he’s still smiling, clearly expecting you to admit defeat. You knee him in the thigh.

“Hey!”

His hold loosens just enough for you to twist free and shove him onto his back. You reach for the pillow again, but Yuji hooks an arm around your waist and rolls.

The room flips.

Your back hits the mattress with a soft bounce, and Yuji lands over you, one knee pressed into the bed next to your hip. He catches both of your wrists before you can hit him with the pillow and pins them near your head.

His laughter fills the space between you. “Now I’ve got you.”

“You said that last time.”

“And I learned from my mistakes.”

“You never learn from your mistakes.”

“That’s not true.”

“You watched Human Earthworm 4.”

“It had good reviews!”

“It has twelve percent on Rotten Tomatoes.”

“Critics don’t understand the franchise.”

“You cried.”

“He got evicted.”

“He had nowhere to go.”

You start laughing again. Yuji does too, his forehead drops briefly toward your shoulder as his grip loosens around your wrists.

You could probably pull free… but you don’t. When he lifts his head again, his smile is still there, but yours is gone. Not because anything’s wrong. Because suddenly you’re aware of everything.

His weight over you. His thigh resting between yours. The warmth of his hands around your wrists. The way his pink hair fell over his forehead from wrestling with you.

Yuji notices you staring and his laugh gets quieter. 

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing.”

“That wasn’t a nothing look.”

“What kind of look was it?”

“I don’t know.”

His eyes move over your face, slowly. They stop briefly on your mouth. You feel his fingers loosen around your wrists.

“Sorry,” he says, starting to sit back. “I didn’t mean to pin you down like a maniac.”

Your legs tighten around his hips before he can move very far. Yuji stops. His eyes flick back to yours.

“You’re fine,” you say.

“Okay.”

He doesn’t move closer, but he doesn’t move away either. For someone who was shouting about gummy worms thirty seconds ago, he looks strangely nervous.

You lift your head slightly from the pillow. “You’re blushing.”

“Please don’t point it out.”

You blink. “Seriously?”

“I’m already having a hard enough time.”

That catches you off guard.

His gaze drops again, lingering on your mouth before he forces it back to your eyes.

“Oh,” you say softly.

Yuji’s face gets redder. “Yeah.”

The air between you changes so quickly, it almost makes you dizzy.

You’ve known about his crush for months. Everyone knows. Yuji isn’t subtle, no matter how hard he tries to be. He always saves you the better seat, offers you the first bite of anything he orders, and watches your face whenever he says something he hopes will make you laugh.

You’ve been waiting for him to realize you noticed. Apparently, he still hasn’t.

“You can let go of me,” you say.

Yuji immediately releases your wrists, but you don’t lower your arms. Instead, you slide both hands into the front of his hoodie and hold him where he is.

His breath catches. “I thought you wanted me to let go.”

“I wanted to see if you would.”

His brows pull together. “Why?”

“Because you’re nice.”

“That sounded like an insult.”

“It wasn’t.”

“You say mean things in a really sweet voice… It’s confusing.”

You smile, but Yuji keeps watching you with that same uncertainty. His body is still hovering over yours, every muscle is tense like he’s afraid one wrong move will ruin whatever is happening.

You tug lightly on his hoodie. He comes closer before catching himself.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” he asks.

“Doing what?”

His eyes narrow slightly. “You know what.”

“I really don’t.”

“That thing with your eyes.”

You blink innocently. “My eyes?”

Yuji makes a helpless sound and looks toward the ceiling. “You’re evil.”

“You ate my gummy worms.”

“That doesn’t justify psychological warfare.”

You laugh softly. His gaze drops back to you, and this time neither of you look away. The smile slowly disappears from his face. Your fingers tighten in his hoodie.

Yuji’s voice comes out quieter than you have ever heard it. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod. He stays frozen.

“Yuji.”

“Yeah?”

“You have to actually do it.”

“Oh. Right.”

He leans down, stops just before your mouths meet, then searches your face one last time. You close the distance for him. The movie keeps playing behind you.

The moment your lips meet, Yuji makes a quiet sound against them. It’s not smooth or controlled. It sounds startled, almost relieved, like some part of him still expects you to change your mind.

Then his hand slides into your hair and he kisses you again. Harder this time.

Your fingers tighten in the front of his hoodie as his mouth moves against yours with months of badly hidden want behind it. He’s still hovering carefully over you, still holding back some of his weight, but there’s nothing hesitant about the way he kisses.

You part your lips when his tongue brushes against them. Yuji groans into your mouth, and your thighs tighten around his hips on instinct.

His other hand slides down your side, skimming over your ribs before settling at your waist. His palm is warm even through your shirt, his fingers spreading, like he wants to touch as much of you as humanly possible at once. You arch into him and Yuji breaks the kiss with a sharp breath.

"Okay," he says, mostly to himself.

You blink up at him. "Okay?"

His forehead drops against yours. His face is pink all the way to his ears. "I'm trying not to completely lose my mind."

A laugh escapes you. "You're doing great."

"I'm really not."

"You kissed me successfully."

"That's not the part I'm worried about."

Your eyebrows lift. Yuji squeezes his eyes shut.

"Forget I said that."

You tug him back down by his hoodie. "Absolutely not."

He kisses you before you can tease him anymore, swallowing your laugh as his hips settle between your thighs.

The contact makes both of you go still.

His body is warm and solid above yours. You can feel him getting harder through his sweatpants, his cock pressing into your lower stomach. He freezes the second he realizes you can feel it too.

"Sorry," he whispers.

You stare at him. "Why are you apologizing?"

"I don't know."

"You do that a lot when you're nervous?"

"I'm not nervous."

"Yuji."

"I'm a little nervous."

You hook one leg around his waist and pull him closer. He sucks in a breath, his fingers tightening at your side as his cock presses more firmly against your stomach.

"Better?" you ask.

"No."

You laugh softly. "No?"

"Now I'm nervous for a completely different reason."

You smile and play with the hair at the back of his neck. “You know I want this, right?”

Yuji’s smile fades a little. He looks at you like he’s not sure he heard you right.

"You do?"

"You thought I wrestled you into bed because I desperately wanted the popcorn?"

"You really like popcorn."

"I like you more."

Yuji blinks. Then a breathless laugh escapes him.

"You said that really casually."

"Was I supposed to make a speech?"

"No, I just…" His smile spreads, helpless and disbelieving. "You like me."

"Keep up."

"I'm trying."

Then his mouth is back on yours. The kiss turns messy quickly. Your hands slip under his hoodie, palms flattening against the warm skin of his stomach, and Yuji shudders above you.

His muscles tighten under your touch. You drag your hands higher.

"Fuck," he breathes into your mouth.

You push the hoodie up until he gets the message and sits back long enough to pull it over his head. His T-shirt catches with it, both ending up somewhere near the foot of the bed.

You’ve seen Yuji shirtless before. Obviously. 

Training. The pool. That one time he spilled an entire milkshake down the front of himself and decided stripping in the middle of the common room was easier than finding a napkin.

This feels completely different though.

His chest rises and falls quickly as he kneels between your thighs. His shoulders are broad, his stomach defined, every line of him built from the kind of strength he carries so casually that you sometimes forget how powerful he really is.

You stare for a second too long. His ears turn pink again.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"That's what I said earlier, and you didn't believe me."

"I was right not to."

"You're staring."

"So were you."

"I had a reason."

"So do I."

His mouth curves into a small, timid smile. 

Your hands slide over his stomach and up his chest. Yuji watches them move like he really can’t believe you’re touching him like this. His heart is pounding under your palm.

"You're really nervous," you murmur.

"You're touching me."

"I've touched you before."

"Not like this."

His hand closes around your wrist, but he doesn’t pull it away. He just presses your palm harder against his chest.

"Keep going," he says roughly. 

Your fingers trace over his shoulders, down his arms, then back to his stomach. Every time you touch somewhere new, the muscles there tense. Yuji looks almost embarrassed by how strongly he reacts. It makes you want to see more.

You reach for the hem of your shirt. His eyes follow the movement immediately. You pull it over your head and toss it aside and he stops breathing.

The pink lace bra had been deliberate. You’d put it on that morning hoping maybe today would finally be the day Yuji stopped staring and did something about it. You’d been trying this for months with no success, but apparently some stubborn little part of you still had faith in him.

Judging by his expression, that part of you deserves a reward. Yuji's eyes move over you slowly, lingering on the lace stretched over your breasts.

"Holy shit," he whispers.

You laugh, suddenly very self-conscious. "Is that a good ‘holy shit’...?” 

His eyes snap back to yours. "Yes."

The answer comes so quickly that your face heats up. 

"Very good," he adds.

"Thank you for clarifying."

"I didn't want you to think I was hesitating."

"You were staring at me like you forgot how to speak.”

"I did for a second.” 

His hands stop at your waist, fingers flexing once like he has no idea where to start. You take both of them and guide them onto your sides. He lets out a shaky breath.

His palms slide up, slow at first. When his thumbs brush under the cups of your bra, you suck in a breath.

He looks up at you immediately. "Good?"

"Very."

Something bright flashes across his face before he leans down and kisses the top of your breast. The first touch is almost sweet. The second is not.

His mouth opens against your skin, kissing and sucking along the edge of the lace while his hands cup you through it. Every small sound you make seems to encourage him. His grip becomes firmer, his mouth hungrier.

You slide your fingers into his hair. Yuji groans against your chest.

"Do that again."

You lightly scratch your nails across his scalp. His hips push against you and the sudden friction pulls a gasp from your throat. He lifts his head, breathing harder now, his eyes fixed on your face.

"I've thought about this so many times," he admits.

You tug gently on his hair. "This specifically?"

"You in my bed."

His face gets redder, but he keeps going.

"Kissing you. Touching you." His thumb brushes over your nipple through the lace. "Finding out what sounds you make."

Your grip tightens in his hair, and you press closer against him.

"And?"

"And what?"

"Was your imagination accurate?"

Yuji watches your face as his thumb circles again.

"Not even close."

He reaches behind you, fumbling briefly with the clasp of your bra. You bite back a smile.

"You need help there?”

"No."

"You look like you need help."

"I've got it."

"You've been fighting with it for thirty seconds."

"It's designed badly."

"The bra is defective?"

"Yes."

"Like the jar?"

"Exactly like the jar."

You reach behind yourself and unhook it. Yuji looks offended.

"I loosened it."

"Of course you did."

The straps slide down your arms. His argument dies instantly. He stares at your bare chest, lips parting slightly.

Then his hands are on you again.

There is nothing uncertain about him now. He cups your breasts, thumbs passing over your nipples until they tighten beneath his touch. When you arch into his hands, Yuji makes a rough sound and lowers his mouth to one.

Your head falls back against the pillow.

His tongue flicks over your nipple before his mouth closes around it. The first pull is slow, almost teasing. When your fingers tighten in his hair, he sucks harder, and your back lifts off the bed.

"Mmm…Yuji…”

He hums around your nipple, and a breathy moan slips out from your lips. When he looks up, he’s watching your face like he wants to see exactly what that did to you.

"You sound really pretty."

"Yuji."

"What?"

"You look way too happy right now."

"I am way too happy right now."

Your face heats at the way he says it. You pull him up and kiss him before he can see how much you liked the answer.

His hand slides down your stomach. Your muscles tense under his palm as his fingertips reach the waistband of your shorts.

He pauses. "Can I?"

"Yes."

Your shorts come off quickly and land in the floor next to your shirt. Yuji’s eyes drop between your thighs and stay there when he notices the matching pink lace.

He looks back up at you. “You wore a matching set?”

You glance away. “…Yes.”

“To watch Human Earthworm?”

“Not for the movie.”

His eyes narrow.

"You were hoping something would happen."

"I was hoping you'd finally notice."

Yuji stares at you for a second. Then he drops his forehead against your thigh.

"You're kidding."

"No."

"I have been trying so hard not to be weird around you."

"You have failed several times."

"I know."

"You stare at my ass constantly."

His head lifts immediately. "You noticed that?"

"Everyone noticed that."

Yuji looks genuinely horrified. "Megumi knows?"

"Megumi has eyes."

"Nobara?"

"Nobara told me."

"Oh my God."

"She said you look like a dog watching someone carry a steak."

"That is so mean."

"It’s accurate."

Yuji covers his face with one hand. You reach down and tug it away.

"For the record," you say, "I liked it."

His embarrassment disappears. "You did?"

"Yes."

His eyes drift down your body again. This time, he doesn’t pretend not to. 

"Good," he says.

His hands slide under your thighs and pull you toward him. You gasp at the sudden movement. Yuji looks up at you from between your legs, breathing a little harder now, like he’s trying to decide where to start.

"Still okay?"

"Yes."

He hooks his fingers into the sides of your thong and draws them down slowly, watching your face the whole time. Your legs part wider as the lace slips away.

"Fuck."

Your thighs twitch under the way he’s looking at you, but you don’t close them. His hands slide slowly up your legs, thumbs brushing over the insides.

"You're staring again," you whisper.

"I know."

Then he lowers his mouth to you. His tongue slides over you, and you gasp his name. He groans against you, gripping the backs of your thighs. When your hips jerk, he does it again, slower and in the same spot.

Your hand grabs at the sheets.

"Ah…Yuji..” 

He glances up without stopping. The sight of him between your legs nearly makes you come right then. His eyes are dark, his lips are wet, and his pink hair falling over his forehead while his tongue circles your clit.

You grab his hair again, holding him to you. Yuji's eyes close briefly.

"Fuck," he murmurs against you.

His tongue presses harder, and your hips lift toward his mouth. Your hand slides behind his head, holding him there as you roll your hips against his tongue. He groans into you, the sound muffled between your thighs, and the vibration makes you do it again.

He follows every movement, mouth open, tongue circling you while you grind against him. His hands grip your thighs, keeping you close. 

“Yuji,” you gasp.

His fingers slip inside you without his mouth leaving your clit. Your hips buck, your hand pressing him tighter against you.

He glances up from between your legs. “There?”

“Yes… Fuck… right there.”

He adds another finger and curls them, watching your face while you keep moving against his mouth.

“Don’t stop.”

He groans something that sounds like wasn’t going to and sucks harder.

Your thighs close around his head. You barely notice. You’re too busy chasing his mouth, grinding against his tongue while his fingers keep hitting the same spot inside you.

The orgasm crashes over you before you can warn him. Your hand holds him against you as your back arches off the bed, his name breaking apart in your mouth while you clench around his fingers.

He slows down, giving you softer, messier licks while your thighs shake around his shoulders. When it starts to feel too sharp, you tug lightly at his hair.

“Okay… Okay…” you gasp. 

Yuji lifts his head immediately, breathing hard, his mouth wet. The grin that spreads across his face is so openly delighted you almost laugh.

"What?" you ask, still trying to breathe.

"Nothing."

"That is not a nothing face."

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Okay. That was really hot."

Your face burns. "Yuji."

"What? It was."

"You could pretend to be normal."

"I think we're past that."

He crawls back over you and kisses you. You taste yourself on his tongue, and the realization makes your thighs tighten around his hips. Yuji groans into your mouth. His hand slips between your legs again.

You break the kiss, still trying to catch your breath. “You’re not even giving me time to recover.”

His fingers slide back inside you, drawing another gasp from your mouth. “I can stop.”

“You really don’t want to.”

“Not even a little.” His thumb brushes over your clit. “But I will.”

You hook a hand behind his neck and pull him back into a kiss. Yuji smiles against your mouth as his fingers start moving again.

“You look very pleased with yourself for someone who needed help with my bra.”

“I loosened it.”

“You absolutely did not.”

Your body is still sensitive from the first orgasm. Every curl feels sharper now, every brush of his thumb against your clit making your legs twitch around him.

The laughter disappears quickly.

Your hands clutch at his shoulders as he watches your face.

"Yuji…"

"I've got you."

The words are soft, almost absentminded, like he says them without needing to think. He keeps the same rhythm until your breathing turns ragged. Your stomach tightens, your thighs trembling around his wrist.

"Again?" he asks.

You nod desperately. Yuji kisses you as the second orgasm breaks over you.

It is slower than the first but deeper, pulling through you in heavy waves that leave you shaking under him. Your moan disappears into his mouth while his fingers keep moving.

When you catch his wrist, he stops. You fall back against the pillow, breathless.

Yuji stares down at you. "I'm never going to act normal around you again."

You reach for his waistband before he can see how much the words affect you.

"Take these off."

His eyebrows lift. "Bossy."

"You like it."

"Yeah," he says immediately. "I really do."

He sits back and pushes his sweatpants and boxers down together.

Your eyes drop. Yuji is thick and long enough that your stomach tightens at the thought of taking him. The tip is flushed and already wet, a bead of precum gathering there while he watches your face. "Can you not look at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're planning something."

“I am.” You wrap your hand around him.

Yuji sucks in a breath, his stomach tightening beneath your other palm. Your thumb brushes over the tip, gathering the precum there before spreading it slowly down his length. His head tips back, mouth falling open around a broken groan.

“Oh, fuck.”

You do it again. His hand closes around your forearm, not stopping you, just holding on while your fist slides over him.

“You’re doing that on purpose.”

“Obviously.”

“No, I mean…” His eyes squeeze shut when you twist your wrist near the head of his cock. “That… You know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Maybe.”

Yuji laughs once, but it falls apart when you stroke him again. “You’re—ah—so mean.”

“You like me.”

“A lot.. apparently.”

He catches your mouth in a messy kiss, his hips pressing into your hand while you keep touching him. After another few strokes, his fingers slide into your hair and he pulls you closer, kissing you harder as he settles between your thighs.

His hand slides over your thigh. "You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Completely sure?"

"Yuji."

"Right. Sorry."

He presses the head of his cock against you and starts to push in.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he stretches you open. Yuji’s mouth falls open, but you barely notice. You’re too focused on how thick he feels, how slowly your body has to give around him.

“Fuck…”

He stops when your thighs tense around his hips.

“Slow,” you manage to whisper.

“Yeah.”

His hand moves over your thigh while you try to relax. Even with only part of him inside, you already feel impossibly full. Yuji pushes in another inch.

A shaky moan slips out of you. Your body tightens around him before you can help it, and he goes still again, forehead dropping against yours.

“You’re so fucking big.” The words come out quieter than you meant them to.

Yuji makes a strained sound, his fingers pressing into your hip. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

You close your eyes and force your legs to loosen around him. It feels so good, almost too good, every small movement dragging against places that are already painfully sensitive.

He gives you another slow push.

“Oh… fuck, Yuji…”

“I know. I’m going slow.”

You can feel there is still more of him left, and the thought alone makes your stomach tighten. His thumb rubs along your hip while you breathe through the stretch. When your body finally starts to relax around him, he eases in deeper. Inch by inch, until his hips are pressed against yours and you’re completely full of him.

Neither of you moves.

You cling to his shoulders, trying to get used to the weight of him inside you. Yuji stays close, breathing hard against your cheek while your body slowly stops fighting the size of him.

Then you tighten your legs around his waist and pull him down into a kiss. His hips roll forward without pulling out, grinding him even deeper.

The moan that leaves you is helpless. Yuji does it again, watching your face this time.

“There?”

“Yes—fuck—yes Yuji...”

He draws back slowly, and the drag of his cock makes your whole body tense before he pushes back in. The second thrust is easier. The third goes deeper.

“Fuck, Yuji.”

His pace falters at the sound of his name, then comes back harder.

He kisses you as he starts moving, slow at first while your body gets used to him. You lock your legs around his waist, and Yuji groans into your mouth.

“Still scared of me?”

“I was never scared of you.”

“You covered your mouth when I asked about the gummy worms.”

“That was self-preservation.”

“You looked terrified.”

“You threatened to bite me.”

“I still might.”

His next thrust presses deeper.

“Then do it.”

You pull him down and sink your teeth lightly into the side of his neck. Yuji curses, his hand gripping your hip as he drives into you harder.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, sounding almost surprised by himself.

His careful rhythm falls apart after that. The mattress shifts under you as his hips snap into yours, each thrust deeper than the last. One arm stays braced beside your head while his other hand pulls your thigh higher around him.

It’s almost too much. You’re still stretched tight around him, every hard push making your toes curl and dragging another broken sound out of you.

Yuji’s mouth moves along your jaw. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“I know.”

He lifts his head. “You knew?”

“You walked into a door staring at me.”

“That could happen to anyone.”

“Nobara was there.”

“She distracted me.”

“You weren’t even looking at her.”

He thrusts into you harder, and your laugh turns into a moan.

“That was mean,” you gasp.

“You started it.”

“You like when I’m mean.”

Yuji kisses you, messy and breathless. “Way too much.”

The bed starts knocking against the wall, but neither of you pays attention.

Yuji's hand slides under your thigh and lifts it even higher. The change in angle makes your entire body jolt.

"Oh, fuck."

"There?"

"Yes."

He does it again. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as his rhythm grows faster. His mouth stays close to yours, catching every broken sound while his own breathing becomes rougher.

Your body is already oversensitive from the first two orgasms. It doesn’t take very long for the pressure to start building again.

Yuji notices. His hand slips between your bodies, and the first brush of his thumb against your clit makes your hips lift into his touch.

He curses softly. "You're close again."

You nod, not able to form anything useful sentence. His thumb circles you in time with his thrusts. The pleasure comes back almost violently.

Your nails drag down his back. Your legs tighten around him. Every deep stroke pushes you closer until your breaths dissolve into helpless sounds against his mouth.

"Yuji…"

"I know."

Your body clenches around him so suddenly that Yuji's breath punches out of him. "Oh, wow."

The words come out almost shocked. He keeps fucking you through it, holding you tighter while your body shakes around him.

The orgasm hits you hard. Your back lifts from the mattress as your body locks around him. Yuji's name breaks apart on your lips, followed by breathless moans you can’t hold back.

He watches your face with something close to wonder.

"It feels that good?" he asks, sounding genuinely amazed.

You can’t answer.

His hips keep moving, working you through it as your body keeps pulsing around him. Every thrust sends another aftershock through you until you're gasping against his mouth. Yuji kisses the sound from your lips and keeps going.

"Fuck," he breathes. "You're so beautiful like this."

An aftershock makes you tighten around him again. His eyes close briefly, a rough groan escaping him, but when they open again he's grinning.

"Again?"

"Yuji."

"I'm just asking."

You laugh weakly, still trembling under him. He slows his rhythm slightly, giving you a moment to catch your breath while his hands move over your sides.

When he finally lifts his head, his cheeks are red and his hair is sticking up in every possible direction. You brush it away from his forehead.

"You okay?"

Yuji gives you an incredulous look. "You just came three times and you're asking me?"

"You look emotionally overwhelmed."

"I am emotionally overwhelmed."

You smile. His gaze drops to your mouth.

Then his expression changes. "Can you turn over?"

The roughness in his voice catches both of you off guard, sending a fresh pulse of heat between your thighs.

You roll onto your stomach, lifting onto your hands and knees. Yuji goes silent behind you. You glance over your shoulder. He’s staring.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"That is very clearly not nothing."

His hands settle on your hips.

"I really like your ass."

You laugh. "I know."

"No, I mean…" His thumbs press into the soft curve. "I really like it."

"You made that obvious several months ago."

Yuji squeezes your ass and the movement sends heat through you.

"Can I?"

"Yes."

He guides himself back inside you slowly. The angle makes you gasp. Yuji stops.

"Still good?"

"Very good."

He pushes deeper. Your arms nearly give up under you.

"Fuck."

His hands tighten around your hips as he starts moving again. The new position lets him sink deeper with every thrust, and the sound of his breathing changes immediately.

"Holy shit," he mutters.

His palm slides over your ass, gripping it as he watches your body move against him. You look back at him. Yuji catches your staring. His face flushes, but he doesn’t look away.

"You really have been staring at my ass for months."

"I admitted that already."

"You admitted you liked it."

"I was trying to be polite."

You laugh, but his next thrust turns it into a moan.

Yuji's grip tightens. The rhythm grows harder, his hips striking against you with enough force to rock the bed under you. One hand slides up your spine, palm spreading between your shoulder blades.

He leans over you and kisses between your shoulder blades. Before you can even process how sweet it is, his hands tighten on your hips and he pulls you back onto him. Your head drops between your arms and onto the mattress.

"Yuji."

"Too much?"

"No." You push your ass back against him. "Don't stop."

His pace turns harder, each thrust nudging you farther up the mattress. His hands stay locked around your hips, his breathing breaking apart behind you.

The headboard knocks against the wall.

Once.

Twice.

Something under you cracks. The left side of the mattress drops, your elbows giving out as you fall forward into the blankets. Yuji grabs your hips to keep from landing on top of you.

Neither of you moves. The movie keeps playing across the room.

You turn your head to look back at him. He’s still inside you, staring down at the collapsed side of the bed.

“I broke my bed.”

“You did.”

“You were involved.”

“This sounds like a you problem.”

Yuji starts laughing. “You were literally on it.”

“So were you. Aggressively.”

That only makes him laugh harder. He carefully pulls out and drops onto the slanted mattress beside you. You roll onto your back, still laughing as he covers his face with one hand.

“The floor is probably sturdier,” he says.

“That’s your solution?”

“I’m improvising.”

You climb over him before he can move. His hand falls away from his face, laughter fading as you settle across his hips.

“Or,” you say, climbing over him, “we stay here.”

Yuji’s laugh cuts off when you settle across his hips. His hands slide up your thighs.

“Yeah,” he says, looking up at you. “This is better.”

“You got quiet.”

“I’m looking.”

“You were looking before.”

“Not from down here.”

You reach between your bodies and wrap your hand around him, lining him up beneath you. Yuji grips your hips as you start to lower yourself onto him, a curse breaking from his mouth. You take him slowly, inch by inch, until your hips finally meet his. Yuji's fingers tighten at your waist.

From this angle, you can control the depth and pace, and you deliberately start slow. His lips part. You roll your hips.

A strained sound catches in his throat.

"Good?" you ask.

Yuji nods quickly. You do it again.

His hands slide from your hips to your ass, squeezing as you move above him. He lets you set the pace, staring up at you with his mouth parted and his breathing uneven.

You keep rolling your hips slowly. Yuji lets you for a while, but his hands squeeze your ass a little tighter each time you come down.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing.”

“You’re making a face.”

“I’m not making a face.”

“You look annoyed.”

“I’m not annoyed.” He shifts under you. “You could go faster, though.”

You laugh. “So you are complaining.”

“I’m making a suggestion.”

“You’re impatient.”

“I’ve been waiting over a year. I think I’ve been pretty patient.”

Your hips slow. “A year?”

Yuji’s eyes flick away from yours. “Maybe longer.”

You stare at him then lean down and kiss him. His arms close around you, pulling you against his chest while you kiss him slower this time. Your bodies stay pressed together, his cock still buried deep inside you.

When you lift your head, Yuji is looking at you differently now. Still flushed and breathing hard, but no longer joking. You take one of his hands and press it more firmly against your hip.

“Then stop being patient.”

His grip closes around you. The first thrust upward knocks a cry from your mouth.

Yuji watches your face, making sure the sound is pleasure before he does it again.

Your hands brace against his chest as he begins fucking up into you, using his strength to move your body with each deep thrust. One hand holds your hip while the other presses against your lower back, keeping you close.

The broken frame creaks under you. Neither of you cares.

His rhythm grows faster, rougher, his restraint finally slipping.

Your breasts move with every thrust. Yuji's eyes drop briefly, then return to your face like he can’t decide where he wants to look the most.

"Fuck," he groans. "You're so pretty."

You lean down to kiss him, but neither of you can keep it together for long. Your mouths keep missing between uneven breaths while his hips drive up into you.

You’re already too sensitive. Every thrust feels sharper than the last, but the pressure keeps building anyway. Yuji reaches between you and brushes his thumb over your clit. Your whole body tightens.

“Too much?”

“Yes,” you gasp.

His hand starts to move away.

You grab his wrist. “No. It’s good. Just… fuck, don’t stop.”

He looks at you for another second, then starts circling your clit again. Your thighs start shaking around him.

“Like that?”

“Yes…just like that.”

His hips keep driving up into you, one hand locked around your waist while the other works between your bodies. Tears blur your vision before you even realize they’re there. Yuji notices immediately and slows down.

“Hey.”

You shake your head, pushing yourself down onto him. “I’m okay.”

His eyes stay on your face.

“It just feels so fucking good,” you tell him, barely getting the words out. “Please keep going.”

His thumb presses harder, and his pace picks up again. The tears spill over as the pleasure becomes almost too much. You’re so full, so sensitive, every deep thrust dragging against you while his thumb keeps circling the same swollen spot. Yuji wipes one tear from your cheek, still watching you closely.

“God… you’re shaking.”

“Yuji…”

Your voice cracks around his name.

His grip tightens at your hip. “I’ve got you.”

The orgasm hits before you can say anything else. Your body locks around him, a broken cry tearing out of you as you shake above him. The tears keep coming, but you barely notice. All you can feel is his cock buried deep inside you and his thumb still moving through every pulse.

Yuji swears beneath you, his rhythm finally starting to fall apart.

“Fuck, I’m close.”

You cling to his shoulders as another wave rolls through you. His hips drive up hard once, then again, before he pulls you down against him. His cock pulses deep inside you, filling you with hot, thick spurts as his groan breaks against your neck.

You collapse onto Yuji’s chest, both of you breathing too hard to speak.

His arms close around you immediately. One hand moves slowly over your back while the other holds you against him, like he has no intention of letting you get very far.

The movie is still playing across the room. Popcorn covers the blankets and half the floor, and one side of Yuji’s bed is noticeably lower than the other.

Neither of you seems interested in fixing any of it.

Yuji presses his mouth into your hair. “You okay?”

You nod against him. “Really okay.”

His hand pauses. “Even with the crying?”

You lift your head and look at him. “I was crying because it felt good.”

Yuji’s eyes widen slightly. “Oh.”

You can see the smile starting.

“Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re about to.”

“I was just going to say I’m glad.”

“Your face is saying something much worse.”

He laughs and pulls you back down before you can keep teasing him. The movement shifts the broken mattress under you.

Yuji looks toward the collapsed frame. “I really broke my bed.”

“You did.”

“I liked this bed.”

“You should’ve treated it better.”

“I was busy.”

You laugh against his chest, and his arms tighten around you.

After you both clean up as much as either of you can be bothered to, Yuji hands you his T-shirt from the floor.

“Here.”

You pull it over your head. It hangs past your hips and smells like him, laundry detergent and whatever body wash he keeps stealing from Megumi.

Yuji stares.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re doing the face again.”

“You’re wearing my shirt.”

“You gave it to me.”

“I know.”

He still looks ridiculously pleased about it. You climb carefully back onto the surviving side of the mattress. Yuji follows, pulling the blanket over both of you before opening one arm. You settle against him without needing to be asked.

His hand slips under the shirt and rests against your back. Not moving anywhere. Just warm against your skin while your leg tangles with his beneath the blanket.

You kiss the side of his neck. He turns his head toward you. “What was that for?”

“Nothing.”

“That wasn’t a nothing kiss.”

You smile against his skin and kiss him again, closer to his jaw this time.

His fingers press lightly into your back. “You’re going to start something.”

“You complaining?”

“No. I’m warning you that the bed can’t take another round.”

“Maybe the floor can.”

Yuji laughs, turning enough to catch your mouth with his. The kiss is softer now. No rushing, no badly hidden nerves. Just his lips moving slowly against yours while his thumb brushes over your back.

There’s a knock on the door.

You both freeze.

“Itadori?” Nobara calls from the hallway. “What the hell was that noise?”

Yuji looks toward the door. “Nothing!”

“It sounded like furniture breaking.”

His eyes move toward the sunken side of the bed. “It wasn’t important.”

“Open the door.”

“No.”

There’s a pause.

“Why not?”

Yuji glances at you curled against his side in nothing but his T-shirt. His hand tightens slightly at your waist.

“Because I’m hanging out with my girlfriend.”

You stare at him. Silence comes from the hallway.

Then Nobara says, “Your what?”

Yuji’s eyes widen like he only just heard himself. “Uh…”

“I knew it,” Nobara says. “Megumi owes me twenty dollars.”

Her footsteps disappear down the hall before Yuji can respond. The room goes quiet again. You slowly lift your head. Yuji is staring at the ceiling.

“Your girlfriend?”

“That just came out.”

“Did it?”

“I mean, I hoped…” He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. “But I probably should’ve asked before announcing it to Nobara.”

“Probably.”

“Sorry.”

“Yuji.”

He looks at you. “Yeah?”

You lean up and kiss him. He relaxes into it almost immediately, his hand sliding around the back of your neck as he kisses you back. When you pull away, he still looks nervous.

You smile. “Finally.”

His face brightens. “So that’s a yes?”

“That’s a yes.”

Yuji grins and pulls you on top of him, burying his face against your neck.

“My girlfriend.”

“Don’t make it weird.”

“I’m not making it weird.”

“You’re saying it like you won something.”

“I kind of did.”

You laugh and kiss his temple.

Yuji hugs you tighter beneath the blanket, still smiling against your neck while the forgotten movie plays across the room.

thank you so much for reading ♡ my requests are open, so feel free to send me anything you’d like to see! kusakabe/higuruma and kashimo content are coming soon, along with the next part of my tumblr trouble series featuring kashimo and kusakabe

“Your hands are really sweaty today.”

“Huh?” Yuji glanced down. “Really?”

When he pulled his hand away, both of you stared.

Your palm was wet.

“What the hell?” Yuji said, horrified. “That can’t be normal.”

As he turned his hand over, a mouth appeared in the center of his palm. Its tongue was sticking out.

Yuji froze. “…No.”

The tongue immediately disappeared, trying to hide the evidence.

“Dude!” Yuji shouted. “Were you licking my girlfriend’s hand?!”

Sukuna let out a genuine, deep laugh. “I was bored.”

“You licked her!”

“We sat through a two-hour movie. I didn’t make a single comment like you asked.”

“That doesn’t justify licking people!”

“Babe, I’m so sorry—”

You were already laughing too hard to care.

Wiping your hand on your skirt, you grabbed Yuji’s wrist before he could pull away.

Then you stuck your finger directly into Sukuna’s mouth. The curse immediately gagged.

“There,” you said cheerfully. “Now we’re even.”

Sukuna recoiled. “You little disgusting brat—”

“ENOUGH!” Yuji yelled.

“He started it,” you pointed out.

Before Sukuna could complain again, Yuji slapped his other hand over the mouth, muffling whatever insult was coming next.

The curse’s protests became incoherent grumbling.

Still laughing, you interlock your arms this time.

Yuji sighed dramatically. “I can’t take either of you anywhere.”

The muffled yelling from his palm only made you laugh harder.

“You’ve been staring at that one for ten minutes, c’mon out,” Yuji urged you with anticipation.

You looked at yourself in the dressing room mirror before peeking out from behind the curtain.

“What about this one?”

Yuji looked up from his phone. For a second, he just blinked. Then his face immediately turned red.

“Oh.”

You smiled and looked down at yourself nervously. “‘Oh’ good or ‘oh’ bad?”

“No, definitely good.”

“Very convincing,” you roll your eyes.

“I mean it!” Yuji said quickly. “You look really pretty.”

Your smile softened.

Then another pair of eyes opened on his cheek.

“Pretty?” Sukuna scoffed.

Yuji’s expression dropped. “No, you are not doing this right now,” we’re in public.”

Sukuna ignored him. “You look stunning.”

You laughed.

Yuji looked offended. “Hey!”

“What?” Sukuna replied. “Am I wrong?”

Yuji opened his mouth, and then closed it. “…No… but she’s my girlfriend!”

“Stop complaining.”

You folded your arms, trying and failing not to grin.

“The colour suits you,” Sukuna continued.

“Thank you,” you respond with a small grin.

“You’re welcome.”

Yuji pointed accusingly at his own face. “Why does she thank you differently?”

“What does that even mean?” you asked.

“You sounded happier!”

“I did not.”

“You did,” he pouted.

————

You stepped out of the dressing room completely and turned once.

“Okay, serious question. This one or the blue one?”

“The blue one,” Yuji answered immediately.

“This one,” Sukuna says sternly.

“The blue one compliments your eyes and hair,” Yuji explained.

“This one will make people notice you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Those are completely opposite opinions.”

Yuji groaned. “Can you stop trying to helping?”

“No.”

“You don’t even know anything about fashion, you’re just disagreeing with everything I say,” Yuji says hunching his shoulders.

“I know what looks good.”

“You know how to be annoying,” they continue bickering.

Sukuna smirked. “And yet she keeps laughing.”

Unfortunately for Yuji, Sukuna was right.

𝖦𝗈𝗃𝗈 𝖲𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗎

⋆ gojo loves to make you squirt.

⋆ it's honestly self-explanatory that this man has an ego bigger than mount everest, so when he finds out he can make you feel so good that you just can't hold it in? oh mama...

⋆ the first time you both realised you can squirt was when he was eating you out one night - one palm spread over your stomach to hold you taut, the other hand with two fingers knuckles deep in you as he sloppily yet expertly made out with your pussy

⋆ all of a sudden, this different type of pressure starts to build in you and you lift your head, making dazed eye-contact with satoru and trying to reach down to warn him

⋆ but you were too slow and too full of pleasure, before you knew it your body was convulsing and your cunt was gushing - sounds gojo had never head before spilling from your lips as you squirted

⋆ it took him by such surprise, overwhelming him, that satoru came in his boxers - untouched. loud moans of his own against your pussy as he did his best to drink up what you spontaneously served him

⋆ ever since then, he's been honing his technique, mapping out your body more, seeing how many times you can squirt, and how long you can endure it...

⋆ good luck trying to get him to stop now that he's addicted!

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

𝖦𝖾𝗍𝗈 𝖲𝗎𝗀𝗎𝗋𝗎

⋆ one word: dacryphilia! i mean... oh my god... who said that??

⋆ there's no question that geto is a self-assured man. confident. cocky sometimes if the shoe fits... and there's absolutely no question that he's a giver, either.

⋆ so when we combine this, and he's given you orgasm after orgasm, and you're weakly pushing at his body because you're overstimulated as fuck, he's confident you can go one more

⋆ he knows you, knows your body like the back of his hand, knows that you have a safe word with him which he'll stop everything if spoken

⋆ he'll coo at you, brush your hair out of your face gently, press a kiss to your cheek before resuming his actions

⋆ sure, he knows to leave your clit alone now, but he also doesn't need it to make you cum at this stage, because you're so sensitive that every perfectly aimed thrust at your g-spot is enough

⋆ when you finally tumble over the edge, high-pitched whines and hands gripping the sheets, suguru really gets off when you look up at him, watery eyes with tears dribbling down your cheeks onto the pillow underneath your head

⋆ he made you feel so good you cried

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

𝖭𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗂 𝖪𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗈

⋆ two words: size. kink.

⋆ although i don't think he would admit it because he thinks it makes him seem too much of a 'womaniser'... he definitely gets turning on when he realises he's noticeably bigger than you

⋆ whether that might be when you need help reaching for the top shelf; or when he holds you as the big spoon at night; or when he can feel and see the buldge of his cock in your lower abdomen as he pounds into you during missionary

⋆ any and all of the above

⋆ now, if you're worried about whether he actually is bigger than you... he's a 6'0" gym daddy grade 1 sorcerer who we all KNOW is packing.

⋆ ...he's packing.

⋆ and every time he presses his cock against your lower belly - making you look at how far he's about to reach into you - or hears you moan about how big he is while he's making love to you... you know he's just gotten impossibly harder

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

𝖱𝗒𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇 𝖲𝗎𝗄𝗎𝗇𝖺

⋆ i'm gonna be so real with you guys. sadist. bondage. choking and breath play.

⋆ the king of curses getting off at seeing others humiliated or in pain... no way who would've guessed?

⋆ sukuna loves to show off his strength, power, and control over your dynamic.

⋆ during sex, we all know at least one of his four hands is going to be on your throat - the control he has over your breathing goes straight to his head, and the level of trust between you two with this makes it even more erotic and meaningful

⋆ seeing you under him, folded into an array of positions, one of his hands sensually cutting off your air supply as your eyes roll back and maybe your face even goes a little red... oh yeah

⋆ now, he wasn't exactly sure about bondage at first - he liked to be the one to move your positions around - but when you came to him he couldn't pass up the opportunity

⋆ and you asked nicely... you're his weakness of course he'll do anything you ask (even if begrudgingly so)

⋆ now you come to him wanting to try new rope knots and positions, so knowing you're as into it as he is while he humiliates you, chokes you, pounds you (dp anyone?)... yeah he's as horny as a rabbit in the spring

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

𝖥𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗋𝗈 𝖳𝗈𝗃𝗂

⋆ this guy is unironically the edge-lord.

⋆ loves to spend time 'prepping you', two knuckles deep in your pussy as he flicks your clit with his other hand's thumb - sometimes switching to pinching and rolling it just to see you squirm

⋆ the first time you approach your orgasm, your moans are growing louder and more high-pitched, and your back begins to arch

⋆ he instantly stops his actions, pulling his fingers out quickly as you leaves you clenching around nothing

⋆ you'll whine out in complaint, telling him you were almost there but he knows - that's why he stopped

⋆ he'll smirk at you, telling you the only way you're cumming is around his cock, waiting for you to calm down before he starts the cycle all over again

⋆ you've lost count of how many times he's edged you (even though he'd definitely make you keep count)... but you know it's gotta be upwards of 20

⋆ when it only takes a couple finger thrusts and clit rubs to get you to the edge, he knows it's time to fuck you stupid - just so he can take care of you after

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

𝖪𝖺𝗆𝗈 𝖢𝗁𝗈𝗌𝗈

⋆ i'm on my 'raging breeding kink choso' agenda again. surprise surprise!

⋆ sure, maybe choso can't actually get you pregnant, and maybe because he's half cursed spirit he's infertile - but that's why the idea of shooting hot, sticky loads of his cum one after the other into your delicious, soaked pussy sounds so inviting

⋆ he'll have you in mating press, listening to your airy moans as he thrusts balls-deep into you, watching your face contort with pleasure as he cums for the nth time, painting your walls white, and pulls out only to see it bubble and dribble

⋆ scooping up the extra with his tip, he'll slowly press it back into your hole, an experimental thrust as he fucks it back into you

⋆ and please ride him into oblivion; watching his hands on your body try to follow your rhythm while he's babbling incoherent nonsense in the form of sweet nothings to you; and you force yet another orgasm out of his overstimulated, pulsing, flushed, red-tipped cock

⋆ you never get sick of the warm feeling it fills you with, the wetness between your thighs stringing and stick as your bodies meet

⋆ what better way to make it stick than with another load?

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

𝖨𝗍𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗋𝗂 𝖸𝗎𝗎𝗃𝗂

⋆ praise him. praise yuuji because all he aims to do is please.

⋆ yuuji is a very vocal guy, and honestly the sweetest lover out of ALL the jjk men imo

⋆ he's solely dedicated to your pleasure, because your pleasure gets him off

⋆ he knows your body like the back of his hand - knows how you like your nipples sucked and the perfect figure-8 to rub your clit in; knows that you like to be tongue-fucked while he eats you out and gently teased with his fingers around your asshole

⋆ because of all of this, there is absolutely nothing more pleasurable to yuuji than hearing your honey-sweet voice tell him that his fingers feel good, or that you're close and don't want him to stop, or that that's the spot right there!

⋆ he loves feeling like he's doing a good job, because he loves seeing you fall apart for him - he can simply stroke it to get off, but every time he makes you cum... it's like a reward

⋆ no one has ever made you cum as hard as yuuji does, and he plans to keep it that way

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

𝖥𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗋𝗈 𝖬𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗆𝗂

⋆ i'm not sure if this counts as a kink per say... but my guy is a big fan of sex toys

⋆ if this one's coming as a shock to anyone... i'd say freaky fushiguro has it in him for sure

⋆ honestly, i think he's one of the jjk men who is the most casual about sexual topics; like some of them (not naming names) would be dismissive of sex toys because they feel like it means they aren't good enough to make you cum on their own

⋆ megumi just doesn't see it that way, he holds no shame for it

⋆ what's so wrong with him holding a vibrator to your clit while he fucks you hard and slow if it means he gets to hear your sinfully delicious moans as you call his name while you cum, shaking?

⋆ furthermore, i think he would also enjoy seeing how hard you can cum with just sex toys - like if he holds a rose toy to your clit, how long does it take you to cum?

⋆ seeing you reach and call for him, a vibrating dildo held deep into your hole, restrained under your panties, eyes glazed with pleasure as you convulse in orgasm... megumi swears he cannot get any harder

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

a/n: okay first smut post in my garden... hey everyone, how're we feeling! i've been sitting on these for ages, i wrote them on april 1st at 1:50am x

-> these are my midnight thoughts whenever i can't sleep, and are just my opinions, feel free to share your own (..◜ᴗ◝..)

-> all writing credits to @dorotheeasrce - please do not copy, impersonate, or feed to ai! ｡𖦹°‧

He smiled into it before pulling back only far enough to rest his forehead against yours.

"I really have to go," he murmured, sounding painfully sincere despite making absolutely no effort to move away from you. 

His thumb continued tracing lazy circles beneath your ear, completely undermining whatever determination he'd tried to put into the sentence, and when your eyes flicked toward the passenger door, he followed your gaze for all of half a second before looking back at you instead.

A laugh escaped before you could stop it, quiet enough that it stayed between the two of you.

"You say that, but I don't think I've actually seen you attempt to leave." You replied, unable to hide the grin tugging at your mouth

Yuji blinked once, glanced down at his own hand still comfortably wrapped around yours, then looked toward the untouched door handle.

"...Huh." The realization settled over him with exaggerated seriousness, and his brows knitted together.

"I guess I haven't."

"No, yet you've been announcing your departure every two minutes," you giggled, shaking your head as you brushed a flattened strand of pink hair away from his forehead. 

"I don't think that's on purpose."

"Oh?"

"I think..." He paused, pretending to consider it with all the gravity of a man solving a complicated equation before his expression dissolved into a sheepish smile. 

"...I think my body just doesn't want to cooperate."

"You poor thing. So tragic."

"It really is."

His face carried such exaggerated misery right up until he leaned forward to steal another kiss, smiling against your lips before he'd even finished it. 

The sound of your laughter filled the car again, muffled by the space between you, and Yuji laughed too, his shoulders shaking.

"You. Are. Impossible," you whispered between each kiss, smoothing the collar of his hoodie where it had twisted sometime during the night.

"I've heard that."

"Usually from your manager?"

The mention of him earned exactly the reaction you'd expected as Yuji let out a long, defeated groan before dropping his head dramatically onto your shoulder, the full weight of him leaning against you as though the conversation alone had exhausted him. 

His arms slipped loosely around your waist, completely content to remain there while the rest of the world continued moving without him.

"Don't even mention him this early," he mumbled into your shoulder. 

"If Kondo finds out I wasn't in my room last night, he's gonna schedule even media training before breakfast just to punish me."

You couldn't help smiling into his hair.

"That's hardly a punishment."

"It is if you're famous." He groans into your jacket.

"Well, you chose this career. You also signed sponsorship contracts." You remind him teasingly.

"I chose boxing. And I didn't read half of them."

"...Yuji."

"I was excited and overwhelmed!"

Your hand came up to cover your face as another laugh escaped you, and when you peeked through your fingers, he was already smiling back at you with absolutely no embarrassment whatsoever. 

He never tried to defend the more ridiculous parts of himself.

Outside, another handful of cars appeared on the road, pedestrians beginning to drift along the sidewalks with coffees in hand and headphones over their ears. The city was waking up, little by little, and with every passing minute the chances of someone recognizing the world's newest boxing champion only grew.

Your fingers found his jaw almost absentmindedly, brushing over the faint shadow where bruising had nearly disappeared after his last title defense. 

His skin was warm beneath your touch, and he instinctively leaned into your hand, eyes slipping shut for a brief, contented second.

"So," you asked softly, "when do I get to steal you again?"

Yuji opened his eyes, and almost immediately you watched the guilt settle across his face.

He hated disappointing you, even when there wasn't anything to apologize for.

He sighed through his nose before leaning back against the seat, his head tipping toward the ceiling as though reading today's schedule off the upholstery.

"We've got roadwork at the gym first thing, then conditioning." He counted each item on his fingers without looking at them. 

"Coach wants extra rounds on the pads after that because apparently my right hook's been getting lazy, then media training, then the sponsor shoot with Kensei Athletics, then there's a hospital visit with the kids this afternoon..." 

He winced before even reaching the end of the list. 

"...And Kondo booked dinner with the federation tonight." He finally looked back at you, offering the smallest, most apologetic smile.

"So... probably late."

"As always," you murmured with familiarity, the words carrying the easy acceptance, already having learned that loving a professional athlete also meant sharing him with cameras, coaches and calendars.

His shoulders slumped immediately.

"I'm sorry."

The apology came quietly and it almost disappeared beneath the hum of the air conditioning.

You reached over without thinking, taking his hand before he could withdraw into that unnecessary guilt of his, your thumb brushing over the calloused skin across his knuckles.

"Yuji. I wasn't complaining."

He looked up.

"I know..."

"No." You smiled gently. "I mean it. I knew what I was signing up for when you decided to go pro. You were amazing, and this was bound to happen and you deserve it."

Yuji inclines his head, not meeting your eyes as he remains unconvinced.

"Although you're exhausted, I know you're happy. And I happen to like seeing you happy." 

At that, he meets your eyes as you watch his expression soften so completely that it made your chest ache.

"You never make this hard." He smiles.

"Maybe I should. Don't tempt me."

"I'd cry." He laughed under his breath before bringing your joined hands to his lips, pressing a slow kiss against your knuckles, lingering just long enough to make your heart squeeze.

"I'll make time," he promised quietly. "Even if it's just dinner. Or coffee. Or twenty minutes in a parking lot."

You smiled.

"We're getting pretty good at parking lots."

"We're professionals."

"I think professionals actually leave them eventually."

"...That's a good point."

You tilted your head toward the windshield where, sure enough, more people had begun appearing outside the hotel.

"You really should go before this street gets busy."

He looked at the passenger door with genuine consideration before letting out the most theatrical sigh you'd heard all week.

"I was hoping you'd argue." He jokes, as you shake your head at his antics.

He smiled so brightly it was almost unfair, then leaned across the center console one final time, cradling your face between both hands as he kissed you slowly, like he intended to carry the feeling with him through the rest of the day. 

When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, smiling so softly that it was impossible not to smile back.

"I love you." The words slipped out with the same easy honesty.

"I love you too," you whispered, brushing your nose against his. "Now get out of my car before your manager realizes you're not in your room."

That, apparently, was finally enough motivation.

With the exaggerated reluctance of a child, Yuji reached into the back seat for his black hoodie, tugging it over his head before pulling a cap low across his forehead. 

The familiar black mask disappeared over the lower half of his face next, transforming the smiling boyfriend beside you into the anonymous figure who could slip through a hotel lobby without immediately drawing a crowd.

His hand landed on the door handle before he stopped again, turning back with eyes full of unmistakable mischief, his free hand lowering the mask down.

"...One more?"

You stared at him for a long moment before breaking into another helpless smile.

"You are unbelievable." You complain with no serious bite, making him shrug. 

"I've been told."

"I wonder by who."

"My very patient girlfriend."

"Formerly patient." You snark playfully at him, watching him pout.

"Still current girlfriend, though?"

You rolled your eyes so dramatically it made him laugh before leaning forward to give him one quick kiss.

"There. That's your final one."

Still grinning, he finally climbed out onto the quiet sidewalk. He shoved both hands into the pocket of his hoodie, glanced around to make sure no one was paying him much attention, then looked back through the passenger window.

Even with half his face hidden, you recognized the smile in his eyes immediately.

He lifted a hand in a small wave before disappearing toward the hotel entrance, and just before the revolving doors swallowed him whole, he looked back over his shoulder one last time, checking to see if you were still there.

You were.

By the time you made it to the office, the quiet intimacy of the morning already felt like it belonged to another lifetime.

Your mood was already on edge when you found yourself missing Yuji a little extra today, and now your inbox had reached triple digits before you'd even finished your first cup of coffee and two meetings had been added to your calendar without so much as asking.

You didn't mind it.

It was comfortably ordinary, a welcome contrast to the whirlwind that came with dating someone whose face seemed to be plastered on every billboard and sports magazine in the country.

"You survived Monday?" Maya asked as she wandered past your desk with a stack of folders balanced against her hip.

"Barely," you replied, not taking your eyes off the spreadsheet glowing on your monitor as you corrected a row of figures. 

"Ask me again after lunch."

"I'll bring snacks if the answer's still no."

"Then I'm definitely saying no."

She laughed as she continued toward the conference room, tossing you a playful salute over her shoulder before disappearing around the corner.

A few minutes later someone else greeted you on their way to the printer, another colleague paused to ask whether you'd looked over the latest proposal yet.

The office carried on around you, busy without feeling chaotic, and before long you found yourself slipping back into the familiar routine.

Your fingers moved almost automatically across the keyboard, attention fixed on the report filling your screen as you rewrote an awkward paragraph for what felt like the fourth time. 

Every now and then you reached for your coffee without looking, only to remember it had gone cold nearly an hour ago.

With a quiet sigh, you stretched your shoulders before absentmindedly reaching for your phone, intending to do nothing more than check the time.

A notification banner caught your eye before the lock screen had fully loaded.

WIRED uploaded a new video.

Ordinarily, you would've ignored it.

The internet was flooded with celebrity interviews these days, and while WIRED's autocomplete series was entertaining enough, it wasn't exactly something you'd drop everything to watch. You'd usually save it for the train ride home, or forget about it entirely after a long day at work.

Your thumb was already halfway to locking your phone again when the thumbnail finally loaded.

It took your brain exactly half a second to process the familiar pink hair hidden beneath a black cap.

Your eyes widened and you tapped the notification before you could stop yourself.

Yuji Itadori Answers the Web's Most Searched Questions | WIRED

The thumbnail showed Yuji holding the signature white autocomplete board with the biggest grin on his face, one eyebrow raised as though he'd already read something ridiculous before the cameras had even started rolling.

A laugh escaped under your breath, earning a curious glance from the coworker sitting opposite you.

"You okay?" he asked.

You looked up a little too quickly, instinctively locking your phone before the thumbnail could give away exactly what had stolen your attention.

"Hm? Oh—yeah." You cleared your throat, forcing your expression into something that resembled professionalism despite the smile already threatening to betray you. "Just... remembered something."

He accepted the explanation with an absent shrug before returning to whatever spreadsheet had held his attention a moment earlier, leaving you alone with the notification still glowing against your lock screen.

Your eyes immediately dropped back to it.

Yuji had told you he was doing interviews so that part wasn't surprising.

Ever since winning the championship belt three weeks ago, his calendar had become almost impossible to keep up with. 

Every evening phone call seemed to begin with an apology because he'd spent the day bouncing between television studios, photoshoots, sponsor meetings and press conferences before finally collapsing into bed, usually still half awake enough to mumble that he missed you before falling asleep mid-conversation.

WIRED was just another interview.

But it wasn't the interview itself that caught your attention, it was the questions.

Your thumb hovered over the notification as your curiosity steadily grew, because if there was one thing you knew about WIRED's autocomplete series, it was that the questions came from the internet itself, built from whatever people had searched often enough to end up on that little white board.

You found yourself wondering what strangers wanted to know about your boyfriend.

You should wait.

You had work to finish, emails to reply to, and a meeting in less than forty minutes. The interview wasn't going anywhere, and there was absolutely no reason you couldn't watch it over lunch like a responsible adult.

You stared at the thumbnail for another few seconds anyway.

...Lunch was over an hour away.

Absolutely not.

Pushing your chair back as casually as you could manage, you stood and slipped your phone into your hand, smoothing the front of your blouse as your eyes instinctively drifted toward your manager's office. 

The blinds were still half drawn, the door remained closed, and the rest of your team looked far too invested in their own screens to notice you quietly slipping away.

"I'm just running to the restroom," you called to Maya as she reappeared carrying yet another impossible stack of paperwork.

She barely looked up.

"Mhm."

You walked at a pace that you hoped looked entirely normal, resisting every urge to hurry until the restroom door finally swung shut behind you.

The moment it clicked closed, all pretense disappeared.

You practically speed-walked to the last stall, locked it behind you and lowered the toilet seat before sitting down, your excitement bubbling over into a grin that felt almost embarrassingly giddy.

"Please don't let anyone walk in," you muttered to yourself, already digging your earphones out of your pocket.

Your fingers fumbled just enough to make you huff impatiently before they finally connected, the familiar chime sounding in your ears.

The thumbnail filled your screen again.

Yuji smiled back at you from behind the white autocomplete board, completely unaware that somewhere across the city, his girlfriend was hiding in an office bathroom because she couldn't even wait until her lunch break to watch him answer questions from the internet.

Your thumb hovered over the play button for barely a second before pressing it.

The buffering circle spun for only a heartbeat before disappearing, replaced by the familiar white backdrop of the WIRED studio.

The set was exactly as you remembered from countless other interviews—minimalist, bright, nothing more than a chair, a camera, and a white board covered in white autocomplete strips. 

It was designed to keep all attention on the person sitting in the middle of the frame.

Yuji looked almost painfully out of place beneath the studio lights, dressed in nothing more than a charcoal hoodie and faded jeans. His stylist had clearly tried their hardest with his hair and you smiled before he had even spoken.

"Hi," Yuji greeted, lifting a little wave toward the camera before immediately laughing under his breath. His shoulders relaxed as someone behind the lens greeted him back, and you watched that familiar nervous energy melt away the same way it always did whenever people smiled at him.

"I'm Yuji," he continued, shifting the white board onto his lap. "I'm a professional boxer, and today..." He glanced to the side to reread the cue card before grinning sheepishly. "...I'm answering the internet's most searched questions about me."

He paused for a moment, looking directly into the camera as he smiles.

"I hope everybody was nice."

A producer behind the camera laughed.

"I wouldn't count on it."

Yuji's smile faltered ever so slightly, his eyebrows lifting with genuine concern before he let out a tiny, defeated sigh.

"...Oh."

Your hand flew to your mouth before the laugh escaped, muffled behind your fingers as you leaned back. It had taken less than thirty seconds for him to remind you why interviewers adored him. 

He never tried to be funny, he simply was charming.

"'Is Yuji Itadori..." Yuji reached up and peeled away the first strip, squinting at it with exaggerated concentration before reading it aloud.

"...actually a boxer?'"

His forehead creased immediately, and he looked off-camera with the most bewildered expression imaginable, as though he genuinely wasn't sure how to answer.

"I..." He blinked once before looking back toward the lens. "I really hope so."

Laughter rippled through the studio, warm and immediate, and Yuji couldn't help laughing along with them, scratching the back of his neck as though he'd embarrassed himself.

"I mean," he continued, still smiling, "I've been getting punched in the face for almost ten years now, so if I'm not a boxer..." He shrugged helplessly, his grin widening. "...I've made some really questionable life choices."

The producer laughed loud enough that it echoed slightly through the microphone.

"I think that's a safe yes."

"Okay, good." Yuji nodded with exaggerated relief before peeling away the next strip.

"'How tall is Yuji Itadori?'"

He frowned.

"Why does everyone ask this?" His eyes flicked toward someone off-camera, searching for an answer that clearly wasn't coming. 

"Do I look short on television?"

A producer immediately answered.

"The internet says you're shorter than your official stats."

"What?" Yuji actually sat up straighter in his chair.

"I'm six foot three."

The producer laughed again. "People don't believe you."

Yuji looked absolutely devastated. "I've stood next to measuring tape."

He pointed toward the camera as though pleading his case before continuing, completely committed now.

"I slouch." He gestured toward himself.

You buried your face in your hand, your shoulders shaking with silent laughter as another employee wandered into the restroom outside your stall.

The sinks ran for a few moments and the paper towel dispenser whirred.

"'What weight class does Yuji Itadori fight in?'"

This time, his expression settled into something more thoughtful, and the athlete in him surfaced almost immediately.

"I'm a light heavyweight," he explained, resting one elbow against the arm of the chair as he spoke. 

"So before every fight, there's a pretty strict schedule with nutrition, hydration, training... all the boring stuff people don't usually see."

He smiled knowingly.

"But the worst part isn't the training. It's the food."

The producer chuckled as Yuji sighed dramatically.

"I start dreaming about cheeseburgers three weeks before weigh-ins."

Your lips curved despite yourself because you know he was speaking the truth.

You'd once watched him spend twenty minutes describing, in painful detail, the first meal he planned to eat after making weight, only for him to order something completely different because he'd spotted garlic bread on the menu.

He peeled away another strip.

"'How hard can Yuji punch?'" He looked genuinely puzzled.

"...I don't know. I've never punched myself."

The producer snorted. "...Good. "I think that would've complicated things."

He looked back at the question again before smiling sheepishly.

"I guess...you'd have to ask the people I've fought." A tiny pause followed and his smile faded just enough for guilt to creep across his face.

"...Actually...Maybe don't." He rubbed the back of his neck.

The producer tilted their head.

"Why?"

Yuji shrugged.

"I don't think they'd have very nice things to say about me."

Another wave of laughter filled the studio, though Yuji only smiled bashfully, looking down at the board with pink creeping across the tips of his ears.

You couldn't stop smiling.

He was exactly the same person he'd been before the championship.

He reached for the next strip.

The tiniest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before he'd even spoken, softer than any expression he'd worn so far, and suddenly you weren't watching the world champion anymore.

You were watching the man who'd kissed you goodbye in your car less than three hours earlier.

"'Is Yuji Itadori single?'"

He read the question quietly, almost fondly, before shaking his head without a second's hesitation.

"No." The answer easily and instinctively, and his smile only deepened as he looked back toward the camera.

"...Very, very taken."

Your heart forgot how to function.

Heat rushed into your cheeks so quickly that you pressed the back of your hand against them on instinct, staring at your phone with wide eyes as though he'd somehow managed to look directly at you through the screen.

You knew this was coming.

You'd talked about it.

Weeks ago, curled together on his couch after another exhausting press day, when somebody online had declared him the nation's boyfriend beneath yet another viral edit.

He'd frowned. "I don't like that."

You'd laughed then, nudging his shoulder with your own.

"You don't like being the internet's boyfriend?"

He'd looked at you as though the answer should've been obvious.

"I'm already somebody's boyfriend." You'd teased him for pouting over strangers on the internet, telling him he didn't owe anybody details about his private life, and he'd agreed almost immediately.

"I know." His thumb had absentmindedly traced circles over your wrist while he'd thought about it, his gaze fixed somewhere across the living room before quietly continuing.

"But...we've talked about getting married someday." He'd smiled. "I think people should probably know there's already someone in my life."

You remembered asking why it mattered and he had shrugged in simplicity.

"So people stop trying to find one."

The memory settled warmly in your chest as the interview continued. 

Someone behind the camera spoke again, their curiosity clearly piqued now.

"So...not single."

Yuji smiled.

"No."

"You've got a girlfriend?"

"I do." The pride in those two words was so effortless that your eyes immediately stung. He simply sounded happy, not trying to show off or give the idea of a grand announcement.

You could almost hear the producer grin from the behind the camera as he personally asked the next questions.

"Who is Yuji Itadori dating?"

Yuji laughed softly, glancing down at the board before looking back toward the camera with a smile so impossibly fond that your heart melted all over again.

"I'm dating someone..." He paused briefly, the corners of his eyes crinkling as though just thinking about you made him happier. "...who is completely out of my league."

He laughed under his breath. "I honestly still don't know how I pulled that off."

You didn't even realize you were smiling until your cheeks began to ache.

The video continued playing in the corner of your screen, Yuji already reaching for the next autocomplete strip while the producers laughed at something else he'd said, but your attention had wandered completely. 

Your thumb drifted almost absentmindedly toward the side button, freezing the frame on the exact moment he'd admitted, with an almost embarrassingly fond smile, that he was "very, very taken."

Click. 

The screenshot landed in your gallery, and you stared at it for another second before laughing quietly to yourself.

"...You're unbelievable."

There wasn't a single polished expression on his face, completely devoid of his carefully practiced media smile or the charming grin meant for magazine covers.

It was simply your Yuji.

The same smile he wore every time you surprised him with his favorite coffee after training, or every time he caught you already waiting outside the arena after one of his fights. 

You both had cherished those moments as it wasn't something the cameras had captured.

Your fingers were already opening your chat with him before your brain had a chance to argue.

The conversation looked exactly as it always did.

Voice notes he'd sent while walking into training because he'd forgotten what he'd wanted to tell you by the time he got home.

A blurry photo of a stray golden retriever he'd befriended outside the gym.

Your heart softened all over again.

You attached the screenshot.

A grin spread slowly across your face as your thumb hovered over the keyboard.

you are so unbelievably whipped 😭

You hit send before you could overthink it.

The message had barely left your phone when the familiar typing... indicator appeared.

You blinked.

"...He's using his phone?"

You glanced automatically toward the time in the corner of your screen.

He was between the training he mentioned earlier so he really wasn't supposed to be texting you right now.

The typing bubble disappeared.

Returned.

Disappeared again.

You could almost picture him.

Probably scrambling to get his boxing gloves off, stubbornly using his teeth because he didn't want to keep his phone down, completely oblivious to the increasingly impatient people around him.

Your phone buzzed.

Yuuujiii 🍪 guilty.

Another message appeared before you'd even opened the first.

Yuuujiii 🍪 absolutely whipped. no shame either.

Your laugh escaped before you could stop it, quiet enough that it echoed softly against the tiled walls of the restroom.

You shook your head as another notification slid onto the screen.

Yuuujiii 🍪 I thought I was being pretty subtle too.

You covered your mouth with one hand, shoulders trembling with silent laughter.

subtle??

You typed back quickly.

you smiled like they asked if you'd won the lottery

The typing bubble returned almost instantly.

Yuuujiii 🍪 ...i kinda did.

Your smile faltered as your face got warmer, watching him just saying things that made your heart fold in on itself as though they were the most ordinary observations in the world.

Another message arrived.

Yuuujiii 🍪 also...

The typing stopped for a moment.

Started again.

Yuuujiii 🍪 you called me whipped like it's an insult.

You raised an eyebrow, already smiling as your fingers hovered over the keyboard.

because it is supposed to be. A playful one.

Yuuujiii 🍪 not when it's for you.

You stared at the screen.

Then, despite every intention of teasing him again, you found yourself smiling like an idiot instead.

Your fingers rested against the keyboard before finally typing the only thing your embarrassingly full heart could manage.

you're too cute for this world yuu.

Three little dots appeared almost immediately.

Yuuujiii 🍪 then i guess you got lucky with me👀

Your forehead dropped gently against the cool stall door with a quiet groan, equal parts amused and hopelessly fond.

"...You're lucky you're cute," you murmured under your breath, smiling so widely it almost hurt.

As if he'd somehow heard you through a phone, another notification lit up your screen.

Yuuujiii 🍪 i know 💖

a/n: i hope you enjoyed this one, birthday girl 🫶

masterlist

You’re fixing your hair in the mirror, trying to look like you didn’t just have life-altering bathroom sex with a stranger.

Yuji stands behind you, quiet enough that it should make you nervous.

It does, a little.

You tug your collar higher, trying to hide the mark on your neck, but his hand comes up before you can cover it. He doesn’t grab you. He just catches the fabric between his fingers and pulls it aside again.

“Leave that one.”

You stare at him through the mirror. “Excuse me?”

He still isn’t looking at your face. His eyes stay on the mark, focused in a way that makes your stomach twist.

“That one stays.”

*****

When you finally emerge from the bathroom, you’re trying very hard to look normal.

Yuji is not helping.

His hand finds your lower back almost immediately. He isn’t guiding you anywhere. His hand is just there, warm through your clothes, like touching you has already become a habit he doesn’t care to question.

His eyes move over the room. Slowly. Quietly. Anyone who looks at you for more than a second gets his attention, and not in a friendly way.

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. There’s something different in the way he stands beside you now, in the careful placement of his hand, in the slight angle of his body toward yours, like the space around you has become something he intends to guard.

You feel it.

Apparently, you’re not the only one.

Nobara Kugisaki is watching him.

Age has sharpened her instead of softening her. Her expression doesn’t change as she takes in Yuji’s hand on your back, the way he’s standing too close, the mark on your throat that he told you to leave alone. Then her eyes flick to his face.

Yuji doesn’t look away.

That tells her enough.

This isn’t him being reckless after a hookup. It isn’t even him getting attached too fast in a way she can laugh at later. This is worse. This is Yuji looking at a girl he met less than an hour ago like the rest of the room has already gone quiet.

Nobara’s jaw tightens slightly, but she doesn’t approach.

Not while you’re still standing there.

The interruption comes in the form of a Gojo clan attendant, polished, professional, and completely oblivious to the tension coming off the man next to you.

“There you are,” the attendant says, a little too brightly for the moment. “The elders are ready for you now. The representatives have been waiting.”

You glance between them and Yuji.

It should be easy. You barely know him. You shouldn’t feel the need to explain anything, or apologize, or stay for even one more second.

Still, you do.

Yuji’s hand slips from your back to your wrist, loose enough that you could pull away if you wanted to. He doesn’t stop you. He doesn’t even try. He only holds on for one second too long, like he needs one last point of contact before you go.

“Go,” he says.

You raise an eyebrow. “You sure?”

His jaw flexes.

“No.”

That answer stops you. You expected possessive, maybe arrogant. You didn’t expect honest.

Then he lets go.

You leave with the clan representatives, but before the hallway turns, you glance back.

Yuji is still standing where you left him, his hands half-curled at his sides like he forgot what to do with them once you were gone. He doesn’t look embarrassed when you catch him staring.

He just keeps looking.

Even after you turn the corner, you swear you can still feel it.

*****

Nobara waits until the representatives pull you around the corner before she crosses the room.

Yuji doesn’t move when she comes up beside him. His hand is still half-curled at his side, like his body hasn’t figured out what to do with itself now that it isn’t touching you anymore.

“Planning on breathing anytime soon,” she asks, “or is the hallway doing that for you?”

His jaw shifts. “Nobara.”

“Oh, good. You remember other people exist.”

That gets him to look at her, but only for a second. His eyes keep drifting back to the corner you disappeared around, and Nobara’s expression tightens before she can stop it.

She’s known him too long to mistake this for a crush, or lust, or whatever excuse he might’ve tried to give her fifty years ago. She’s seen Yuji after funerals, after missions, after anniversaries he pretended not to remember. She’s watched him turn grief into discipline so many times that, eventually, it stopped looking like grief at all.

But this is different.

This is him staring at an empty hallway like someone just gave him a reason to ruin his life.

“You’re eighty-three years old,” she says, keeping her voice low enough that no one nearby can hear.

“I know.”

“Then act like it.”

His eyes flick back to her, and there it is, the smallest crack in his expression. Nobara hates that she recognizes it. Hates that after all these years, she can still look at him and know exactly where to press.

“You met her an hour ago, Yuji.”

He doesn’t answer.

“That’s not me judging,” she continues. “That’s me reminding you, since apparently somebody has to.”

His hand curls tighter at his side.

“She’s not Gojo coming back. She’s not everyone you lost. She’s not proof the universe finally decided to apologize.”

“I know that.”

Nobara looks at him for a long moment.

“No,” she says. “You know how to say that. I’m not sure you know how to live like it.”

That shuts him up.

She exhales through her nose, tired in a way that has nothing to do with age.

“Don’t make that girl your reason to keep breathing unless she asks for the job.”

Yuji looks away first, and that tells her enough.

“You’d die for her already, wouldn’t you?”

Still nothing.

Nobara gives a small, humorless laugh. “Of course you would. Dying for someone has always been the easy part for you.”

His expression tightens.

“What worries me,” she says, quieter now, “is what you’ll do if living for her starts sounding easier than living without her.”

For the first time tonight, he looks almost young. His face hasn’t changed, Sukuna took that from him a long time ago, but something in him does. It’s in the way the words hit, the way he looks caught between wanting to deny it and knowing he can’t.

Nobara hates him a little for making her say it.

She hates the world more for leaving so few people alive who can.

“Be careful,” she says.

Yuji’s eyes drift back toward the hallway.

“With her,” Nobara adds. “And with yourself.”

He nods once, but it doesn’t reassure her. It isn’t enough, and they both know it.

It’s just all she’s going to get from him.

*****

The clan meeting room is as suffocating as you expected.

The elders sit in a semicircle, with representatives from three districts placed neatly along either side of the room. A few distant cousins linger near the walls, all of them wearing the same careful expression people use when they’re trying not to stare too openly at the Six Eyes.

One of the elders has been speaking for several minutes.

“Your presence at public events will carry significant political weight,” he says. “The Gojo name still holds influence, and with your position…”

You shift in your seat and immediately regret it.

The ache pulls your attention clean off the conversation. You hide the reaction quickly, but not quickly enough.

The elder pauses. “Are you listening?”

“Yes,” you say, straightening. “Public appearances. The Gojo name. District involvement.”

His expression tells you he heard the summary for what it was, but he continues anyway.

“The district assignments will require your direct attention, particularly in negotiations with families who have been slow to reaffirm their support.”

You nod at what seems like the right place.

Your collar brushes the mark on your throat, and there goes your focus again. The fabric hides most of it, but hiding it doesn’t make you less aware of it. You can still feel his mouth there. His hand tugging your collar aside in the bathroom mirror. The way he looked at the mark like it belonged exactly where it was.

That one stays.

The memory hits at the worst possible time, and you have to look down at your lap before your face gives you away.

“Which is why,” another elder says, “we need to discuss your public image.”

That brings you back.

You lift your eyes. “My public image?”

“There have been concerns about your conduct tonight.”

You keep your expression polite, even as your patience starts thinning. “Concerns.”

“You were seen with Yuji Itadori.”

Hearing his name from one of them feels strange. Too formal. Too far away from the way he said yours, like he needed to remember it.

“I spoke with several sorcerers tonight,” you say.

“Itadori is not just any sorcerer.” The elder’s voice sharpens around his name. “His history with Sukuna, his current status, his absence from public sorcerer society. He isn’t someone the Gojo clan should be associated with carelessly.”

You want to ask what they mean by current status. You want to ask why half the room reacted to him like a ghost had walked in. You want to ask why a man who touched you like he couldn’t bear to stop is being discussed like a political hazard.

Instead, you sit there and nod because that’s what they expect from you.

The meeting moves on. One of the younger representatives starts talking about district negotiations, dates, formal appearances next week. You answer when prompted and agree to something you barely hear.

Your mind is still in the bathroom.

Yuji’s hands on your face. His thumb at your pulse. The way he kept touching you afterward, almost absently, like stopping hadn’t even occurred to him. The way he looked at you in the mirror when he told you the mark could stay.

Your fingers drift toward your collar before you catch yourself.

One of the elders notices anyway.

“Are you feeling well?”

“Fine,” you say. “Just tired.”

It’s close enough to the truth to pass. Your body feels wrung out and oversensitive, every small movement reminding you of what happened less than an hour ago.

The conversation continues around you until one phrase cuts through clearly enough to catch.

“Itadori’s influence has been largely absent for years,” an elder says. “His reappearance tonight was unexpected. His interest in you is concerning.”

You look up. “Interest?”

The elder doesn’t soften. “Itadori doesn’t attach casually.”

The room goes quiet.

Not dramatically. Not all at once. Just enough that you notice it.

No one looks surprised by the statement, and somehow that bothers you more than the warning itself.

“And when he does,” the elder adds, “consequences tend to follow.”

You think of Yuji outside the bathroom door. Yuji in the mirror. Yuji watching you walk away like every inch of distance offended something in him.

“I can handle myself,” you say.

“I’m sure you believe that.” The elder folds his hands on the table. “But the Six Eyes are valuable politically and strategically. You represent more than your personal preferences. Any entanglement with someone like Itadori could complicate…”

“My personal life?” you ask.

The room goes still.

The elder’s mouth tightens. “Your public image.”

You hold his gaze for a second longer than you probably should.

“Right,” you say. “That’s what I meant.”

No one says anything for a beat. Then one of the representatives clears his throat and returns to district security, as if the room hasn’t just adjusted itself around the reminder that you aren’t as easy to steer as they’d like.

The rest of the meeting drags.

They talk about obligations, alliances, appearances, bloodline expectations. Someone uses the phrase “legacy maintenance,” which makes your skin crawl. You nod when you need to and give answers that sound appropriate enough to keep them satisfied.

But beneath all of it, you’re still thinking about Yuji Itadori.

About the warning in the elders’ voices. About the way the room went quiet when they said he didn’t attach casually. About the fact that everyone here seems to know something about him except you.

And somehow, that doesn’t make you less curious.

It should.

Instead, it makes him worse.

More interesting. More dangerous. Harder to put back into the category of stranger, even though that’s technically what he still is.

By the time the meeting finally starts to wind down, you’ve learned almost nothing useful about district negotiations and far too much about how quickly Yuji Itadori has become the only thing in the room you actually care to understand.

*****

A curse surfaces near the eastern district before the meeting has fully ended.

By the time Yuji arrives, three assistant supervisors are already standing behind a barrier, trying very hard not to look relieved that he showed up. The curse is small, half-formed, more nuisance than threat. Nothing that should require him.

No one tells him that, though.

He steps through the veil and kills it before it finishes taking shape.

It only takes one strike. Clean, efficient, almost casual, until the curse breaks apart and the air goes quiet around him.

A few people murmur thanks from behind the barrier. Yuji nods because that’s what he’s supposed to do, but he barely hears them. Fighting is easy. His body knows what to do with a curse.

His mind is still back at the meeting hall.

Your collar. Your throat. The mark he told you to leave uncovered. The feeling of your wrist under his fingers when he let you go. Whether the clan elders are still talking to you. Whether they’re close enough to touch you. Whether you thought about him after turning the corner.

Yuji exhales slowly and flexes his hand once at his side.

It doesn’t help.

“Brother.”

He closes his eyes. “Don’t.”

Todo Aoi comes up beside him anyway.

Age hasn’t made Todo less impossible. It’s only made him quieter about it, which is somehow worse. He stands there for a moment, studying Yuji with the kind of attention that makes most people regret being seen.

Then he says, very seriously, “Your soul has turned its face away from the battlefield.”

Yuji opens his eyes. “I said don’t.”

Todo ignores that. “A woman.”

Yuji says nothing.

Todo’s expression shifts. Whatever amusement was there fades into something more careful.

“Ah.”

Yuji looks toward the city.

Todo follows his gaze, though there’s nothing there for him to see. “Not just a woman, then.”

Yuji’s hand curls once at his side.

Todo notices. Of course he does. For all his nonsense, Todo has always noticed the worst things first.

“The woman,” Todo says, quieter.

Yuji doesn’t answer, and this time the silence is enough.

Todo’s brows draw together. “Yuji.”

Yuji’s head snaps up.

The cursed energy is faint, almost nothing. A thin, oily thread moving where it shouldn’t, slipping through the city in a direction that makes something cold settle in his chest.

Toward you.

Everything else drops away.

Todo says his name again, but Yuji is already moving.

“Something found her.”

He doesn’t explain. He doesn’t wait to see if Todo follows. The curse is weak, probably harmless, barely worth calling a threat.

That doesn’t matter.

It found you.

By the time Todo steps forward, Yuji is gone.

*****

You make it home still feeling a little unreal, like your body got there before the rest of you did. You shower, change, and spend too long standing in front of the mirror trying to convince yourself you’re a normal person who didn’t just let Yuji Itadori fuck you in a bathroom during a district meeting.

The attempt fails for obvious reasons.

The mark is still there, darker now that the heat in your skin has settled, and your fingers move to it before you can stop them. You touch the place his mouth had been and then grab your phone.

Yuji Itadori.

The public results are easy enough to find, the kind of basic records anyone with a connection to sorcerer society could pull up.

Yuji Itadori - Former Vessel of Ryomen Sukuna Shibuya Incident - Key Participant Culling Game Survivor Associated with: Satoru Gojo (deceased), Megumi Fushiguro, Nobara Kugisaki Known Abilities: Superhuman strength, cursed energy manipulation, Black Flash Current Status: Unknown

You stare at the last line longer than the others.

Unknown.

That’s where the public record stops, which only makes the Gojo clan archive feel more necessary. Your Six Eyes clearance opens doors most sorcerers never even learn exist, and the secure database isn’t something a normal search engine can touch. It requires bloodline authentication, elder authorization, and the kind of access that’s made more than one person in that meeting room look at you like an asset they haven’t figured out how to control yet.

You pull up the secure portal. Your credentials load.

Six Eyes. Clearance Level: Six Eyes Authorized.

This time, there’s more.

CLASSIFIED - CLAN ARCHIVE Subject: Yuji Itadori Mahito Encounter - [REDACTED] District, 7 years ago Status: Extreme Caution - Approach with extreme caution Physical Status: Non-aging body due to residual Sukuna influence Estimated Current Age: 83 years Last Confirmed Active: [REDACTED] Current Status: Presumed Inactive Associated Operations: [REDACTED], [REDACTED], [REDACTED] Note: Itadori is considered one of the strongest living sorcerers. Recommend extreme caution in all interactions.

You sit there with the phone in your hand, rereading the same line until the words start to blur.

He told you he was eighty-three in the bathroom, but there’s a difference between hearing a man say something impossible while his hands are on you and seeing it written in a classified archive like a fact everyone else already accepted. You scroll through the redacted sections again, trying to make the pieces line up. Multiple high-grade curse eliminations. Operations you don’t have clearance to open. Years of missing activity cut into black bars and empty brackets. The public record treats him like a ghost. The private archive treats him like a weapon everyone knows is still loaded.

So why was he there tonight? Why did no one announce him? Why did conversations die when he crossed the room? Why did the elders say his name like they were touching something sharp? And why did a man listed as presumed inactive have his hand around your throat two hours ago?

You reread the note about his body. Non-aging. Residual Sukuna influence. Estimated age: eighty-three. Then you think of what he said in the bathroom.

I’ve spent eighty-three years teaching myself not to reach for people.

He meant it. Not as a line, not as some strange attempt at seduction. He was really telling you the truth while looking at you like he had no idea what to do with the fact that he wanted you anyway.

You close the archive, but the information stays with you. Presumed inactive, except he isn’t inactive. He’s here, in your city, moving through rooms full of sorcerers who clearly know far more about him than they’re willing to say.

You say his name once, quietly, just to hear what it sounds like in your apartment.

“Yuji Itadori.”

It feels different here. Less like a name from a file and more like something you shouldn’t be saying alone.

That’s when you feel it.

At first, it’s only a faint smear of cursed energy at the edge of your awareness, moving where nothing should be moving. Your Six Eyes catch it immediately, tracking the oily thread of it as it crawls up the side of your building. You go still, one hand tightening around your phone.

It’s outside and it’s drawn to you.

You move toward the window with your hand already reaching for the latch, but the presence stops before you touch it. A second later, it’s gone. Not faded, not exorcised in any slow, ordinary way. Gone all at once, snuffed out with such clean force that the empty space it leaves behind feels louder than the curse itself did. 

Your hand is still on the latch when you look through the glass.

Yuji is standing on the fire escape.

Rain clings to his hair and darkens his clothes, city light cutting unevenly across his face. He looks guilty, but not surprised. Worse, he looks like he knew he shouldn’t be there and came anyway.

Neither of you moves at first. Then you open the window, and cold air rushes in sharp enough to clear your head.

“Are you insane?”

“Probably.” His voice is rough and quiet. 

“You’re outside my window.”

“I know.”

“… Yuji.”

His gaze drops to your throat, to the mark still visible above your collar, and you watch him find it. His expression changes before he can hide it, something in his face going softer and more dangerous all at once. His hands curl at his sides like he has to remind himself not to reach through the window and touch you.

“You left it,” he says.

Your pulse jumps. “You told me to.”

He takes that in like it means more than it should, like he understands exactly what you’re admitting without saying it outright.

“Something followed you,” he says after a moment. “From the meeting. I tracked it here.”

He should’ve stopped there. Killed the curse, made sure you were safe, and left before you ever knew he’d come close. That would’ve been the right thing, and from what you’ve read, Yuji Itadori has spent most of his life doing the right thing until there was almost nothing left of him but restraint and ghosts.

Then you left the mark uncovered.

You raise an eyebrow, trying very hard to ignore your racing heart. “And you followed it?”

“Yes.”

“That’s all?”

He’s quiet long enough that you already know the answer.

“No.”

There’s no politeness to it. No excuse. Just the truth, rough and immediate, and somehow that’s worse.

You should tell him to leave. A man showing up outside your window after knowing you for a few hours is objectively insane, regardless of whether he just saved you from a curse. You should close the window, call someone, ask one of the elders exactly what they meant when they said consequences followed him. Instead, you stay where you are.

“I won’t come in,” Yuji says, careful now, like every word takes effort. “Unless you tell me I can.”

That makes it harder, not easier. He’s standing outside your apartment like something dangerous out of an old clan warning, and he still waits. His whole body looks tense with wanting to move, but he doesn’t. He leaves it to you.

You look at him through the open window, at the man the world thinks vanished, at the man the archive told you to approach with extreme caution. At the man who found you anyway.

“Yuji—”

“Please.”

It’s barely more than a breath, and that’s the problem. He doesn’t sound smooth or sure of himself. He sounds like he knows he shouldn’t ask and can’t stop himself anyway.

Please.

You step back and to the side, one hand still on the window frame. It’s barely a gesture, barely permission, but Yuji understands it immediately.

He climbs inside with perfect control, but the moment his feet touch your floor, your apartment feels smaller. He’s close enough now that you can see the rain on his eyelashes, the rise and fall of his chest, the way his hands stay at his sides like he doesn’t trust them near you yet.

He doesn’t move closer. He waits, and you hate how much that affects you.

“You acted like I belonged to you,” you say, “then disappeared before I could decide whether that was crazy or flattering.”

His jaw tightens. “I was called away.”

“And I was supposed to know that how?”

“I should’ve told you.” His voice is low, almost pained. “I know I should have..”

You almost smile despite yourself. He looks too intense for the conversation you’re actually having, like asking for your number might somehow require more courage than putting a curse through a wall.

“Yes,” you say. “You should have.”

He takes one step closer, then stops. His hands clench before going still again at his side.

“I didn’t know how to ask for your number without sounding like I was begging.”

For a second, you just stare at him. Then a laugh almost escapes you, more from disbelief than amusement.

“You had your hand around my throat an hour after meeting me, but asking for my number was too much?”

Yuji looks at you like he wishes that wasn’t true.

“Yes,” he says.

And somehow, from him, it sounds like a confession.

You take one step toward him, and Yuji closes the rest of the distance before you can think better of it.

Yuji is on you before you can take another breath. His hands catch your waist, turn you, and then your back is against the wall, his body pressed close enough to make thinking useless. When he kisses you, it isn’t careful or controlled. It’s messy, rough, impatient, and you grab at his shirt because there’s nowhere else for your hands to go.

The second you open your mouth for him, the kiss turns messy. His hands go from your face to your throat, then your hips, then back again. He can’t seem to keep them in one place, like touching you once only makes the need worse.

“Tell me yes,” he growls against your mouth.

“Yes—”

His hands fist in your shirt and rip. Buttons scatter across the floor as he tears the fabric open, yanking it off your shoulders.

Then he freezes.

Yuji looks at the shirt first, then at his hands. Like he forgot for one second what those hands can do. Like wanting you made him careless, and realizing that scares him more than the wanting itself.

Your hand slides up his chest.

The apology in his face disappears.

He kisses you again, rougher this time, and you feel the last of his hesitation go with it.

His mouth is back on yours before the apology can become anything real. This time, he doesn’t hesitate. He unhooks your bra, pulls it off, and the sound he makes when he sees you is gruff. 

“Look at you,” he breathes.

Then his mouth is on your throat, biting down hard enough to make you cry out. Yuji groans at the sound, rough in his chest, and his hands come up to cup your breasts. His thumbs circle your nipples until they harden under his touch, and when your back arches, his grip tightens like he felt it happen somewhere in his own body.

He doesn’t speak after that. He just keeps touching you. His mouth moves down your throat to your collarbone, teeth scraping skin before he goes lower. When he bites your breast, you gasp his name.

Yuji goes still for a second. Then his grip changes. His fingers dig into your waist, and his mouth presses harder against your skin like hearing his name from you did something worse to him than touching you.

His hands slide down to your waistband. He hooks his fingers into your pants and underwear together, yanking them down in one motion before dropping to his knees to pull them off completely.

He looks up at you from the floor, breathing hard through his nose, his hands already moving back to your thighs.

Then he grabs your leg and throws it over his shoulder, spreading you open.

The first touch of his mouth makes you cry out before you can stop yourself.

He’s not gentle. Just hungry. His tongue moves over you, then inside you, then back to your clit with a focus that makes your knees buckle. His hands grip your ass, keeping you where he wants you every time your hips try to move away from the pressure.

“Yuji, oh god.”

He groans against you, and the vibration makes your legs shake. When his tongue slides inside you again, deeper this time, your hands fly to his hair because you’re already too close.

It hits fast. Your body goes tight, your breath catches, and Yuji doesn’t stop. He keeps his mouth on you, licking and sucking through it like pulling away hasn’t even occurred to him.

When your legs finally give out, he catches you easily, lifting you before your feet can find the floor again. He carries you across the room, but he doesn’t make it to the bed. He presses you against the nearest wall instead, chest to chest, still breathing hard like he hasn’t recovered from the way you moaned his name. 

His hands are shaking as they frame your face.

“You let me in,” he says, voice breaking. “You have no idea… You have no fucking idea what that does to me…. I would’ve stayed outside.”

The worst part is, you know he means it. He doesn’t say it like a line. He says it like he already pictured himself out there all night and accepted it.

“I would’ve stayed out there as long as you wanted.” His thumb brushes your cheekbone. “But you let me in..” 

You reach up to touch his face, and Yuji leans into your palm before he can stop himself. His eyes close for a second, and the want in his face looks almost painful.

He wants to protect you. You can feel that much. It’s in the way he holds himself near you, in the way he moved before his mind could catch up when the curse found your window. The curse outside. The clan elders picking over your future like vultures. Every sorcerer who looks at the Six Eyes and sees a weapon before they see a girl.

His hands slide down to your waist and tighten. 

Who protects her from me?

His forehead presses to yours, and when he speaks, his voice sounds strained enough to be unfamiliar.

“I shouldn’t be here. You should tell me to stop. You should…”

Because if you told him to stop, he would. You know that. He’d tear himself apart before he hurt you on purpose, and maybe that should make this feel safer than it does.

But it doesn’t… because the problem isn’t whether Yuji would listen. It’s that he wants you to let him stay.

So you kiss him before he can finish.

He doesn’t need anything else.

A sound catches low in his throat, rough and wrecked, and then his hands are on you again. Your waist, your ass, the back of your thigh as he lifts you. His mouth moves to your throat, teeth finding skin while your legs wrap around his waist.

His mouth moves to your throat, teeth finding skin while your legs wrap around his waist. His cock drags through your folds before pressing against your entrance, and your nails dig into his shoulders before he even starts to push in. You remember the bathroom too clearly. The stretch of him. The way your body had to take a second even when you wanted him closer.

Yuji feels you tense. His mouth pauses against your throat, and his grip tightens on your thigh.

“I know,” he says, voice rough. His mouth presses to your throat, almost gentle now. “Breathe for me.”

He waits until he feels you inhale.

Then he pushes inside in one hard thrust, and both of you go still.

Even after the bathroom, even after knowing what to expect, your body still has to adjust around him. Your mouth falls open, but nothing comes out at first. Your nails dig harder into his shoulders, and Yuji groans against your neck, his whole body shaking like it takes everything in him not to move too soon.

“Fuck—fuck.” His forehead drops to your shoulder. “Eighty-three years. Eighty-three fucking years and nothing, nothing, has ever felt like this.”

Then he pulls out and drives back in, and the sound you both make is almost embarrassing in how immediate it is. His hands grip your ass, holding you against the wall as he starts fucking you in deep, rough strokes that knock the air out of you each time.

“Look at me,” he says.

You do.

His face almost makes you regret it. He’s still Yuji, still the man who waited outside your window because you hadn’t told him he could come in, but he looks different like this. Less controlled. Less careful. Hungry in a way that seems to scare him as much as it scares you.

“Don’t look away.”

His mouth catches yours again, swallowing every sound he pulls out of you. One hand slides up to your throat, gripping you but not squeezing, and you clench around him. Yuji groans like it hits him harder than he expected.

“Say my name.”

“Yuji.”

“Again.”

“Yuji— please.”

He carries you to the bed without pulling out, lowering you onto the mattress while his breathing stays rough against your mouth. His hand remains at your throat when he starts moving again, harder now, deeper, his hips snapping into yours while his eyes stay on your face like looking away would cost him something.

“Fuck—yes.” His voice catches, but he doesn’t slow down. “Again.”

“Yuji— too much.” You gasp, the pleasure almost overwhelming. 

His eyes snap to yours immediately. “Stop?”

You shake your head and drag him closer. The relief on his face almost hurts to look at.

Then he pulls out, turns you over, and hauls your hips up onto your hands and knees. Before you can catch your breath, he’s inside you again, deeper from this angle, enough that your arms nearly give out under you.

One hand slides up your spine before fisting in your hair. He pulls, forcing your back to arch, and the angle shifts. You cry out, and Yuji groans in response, the sound low and unsteady, like he hates how much he likes it.

His other hand comes down on your ass—not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make you gasp.

“Mine,” he growls. “Say it—”

“Yours—”

His hand wraps around your throat from behind, pulling you back against his chest. From this angle, every thrust lands deeper, enough that your breath keeps catching before you can settle into it. His palm stays firm against your throat, not enough to hurt, but enough to make every sound come out smaller and every feeling sharper.

His teeth sink into your shoulder, and you come again, so fast it knocks the breath out of you. He groans at the feeling, his grip on your throat tightening as he fucks you through it.

“That’s it—” His breathing is uneven now, his rhythm starting to slip. “One more—need to feel you again—”

“I can’t—”

He lets go of your throat immediately, pushing you forward until your chest hits the mattress. Both hands grab your hips, holding you still as he drives into you harder, rougher, like the words only made him more desperate.

“You can— I’ve got you.” He breathes out. 

His hand slides around to your clit. Two fingers find where you’re already too sensitive, rubbing until your legs shake and you fall apart again. His name tears out of you before you can swallow it.

That gets him. Your body tightening around him. His name in your mouth. The last of his control going all at once.

“Fuck—fuck.” He buries himself deep and goes rigid, coming with a low, broken sound. You feel him pulse inside you, filling you, and then he says your name once, rough and helpless.

“Mine.”

He collapses over you, both of you shaking through it. His arms come around you immediately, too tight for a second, until he seems to catch himself and loosen just enough to let you breathe. He keeps his face pressed into your neck.

“I can’t let you go,” he mutters, voice wrecked. “Can’t… Won’t.”

When he finally pulls out, you both groan at the loss. He rolls onto his back and pulls you with him immediately, tucking you against his chest while his arms lock around you like he still doesn’t trust the room to keep you there.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly, his hand moving through your hair.

You nod, still trying to catch your breath.

Yuji doesn’t look satisfied with that answer, but he doesn’t push. His hand keeps moving anyway, through your hair, down your back, over the marks he left on your skin. He touches them carefully, like he needs the reminder more than you do.

“Are you staying?” you ask, already half asleep.

His arms tighten around you. “Yes.”

There are more questions waiting. You can feel them. But your body is heavy now, your cheek pressed against his chest, his heartbeat steady under your ear.

You mean to stay awake a little longer, but you don’t. You can’t.

*****

Yuji stays awake.

Sleep doesn’t come, not with you tucked against him like this, warm and breathing under his hands. He keeps touching you even after he tells himself to stop. Your hair first, then your back, then the curve of your spine beneath his palm. His fingers find the marks he left on your throat, your shoulders, your hips, and then they linger there with a care that feels almost worse than guilt.

He should regret it. At the very least, he should be afraid of how quickly he lost control, of how easily wanting you turned into something with teeth. He’s spent too many years learning what happens to people who get close to him, and still, lying here with your heartbeat steady under his hand, he can’t make himself wish he’d left you alone.

You’re here. Alive. Warm. His, somehow, in a way he has no right to believe in yet.

The thought should scare him more than it does.

He could protect you from curses. He could protect you from the clan, from the elders already circling your future, from every violent thing this world still has left to offer. Yuji knows how to stand between someone and death. He’s done it his entire life.

What he doesn’t know is how to protect you from the shape he becomes when he wants something.

That’s the part he can’t stop thinking about.

For eighty-three years, he taught himself not to need people. He lived carefully. Kept distance. Carried grief like discipline. Then you looked at him with those eyes, let him touch you, let him in, and every careful thing he’d made came apart in a matter of hours.

It isn’t love, not yet.

Or maybe it is.

He can’t bring himself to name it that. Maybe this is what love becomes when it has nowhere safe to go, when it’s been starved too long and finally finds something warm enough to hold onto.

He presses a kiss into your hair, slow and careful, like that might make the apology mean more.

I’m sorry.

Sorry for finding you. Sorry for wanting you. Sorry that if the world came for you, he would burn through all of it and still not know how to let go afterward.

I’m sorry, but I can’t leave you alone.

Even if he should.

Even if it kills you both.

You shift in your sleep and curl closer, your cheek pressing against his chest like you chose him even there, unconscious and unguarded. His arms tighten before he can stop them.

Mine.

The word moves through him quietly this time. Less like a claim, more like a prayer he knows better than to say out loud.

Mine.