plague.-.

I have spent most of my life feeling adjacent to people rather than belonging to them. Sitting beside happiness instead of inside it. Watching others become loved so naturally while I stood there wondering what invisible flaw inside me kept making affection slip through my fingers like water. Maybe some people are born with homes inside them and others are only passing through.

Up above the suburbs, the rain used to fall so heavily against my window that I swore the universe itself was mourning with me. I would stare at the ceiling until dawn with his voice still trapped somewhere inside my ribs, wondering if grief could physically rot a person from the inside out. Perhaps it can. Perhaps that is why my chest always feels hollow now.

Satoru would never hurt you.

Satoru hurt you.

I would trade anything for certainty. For one pair of hands that would reach for me without hesitation. For one love untouched by games or timing or fear. I think people underestimate how humiliating loneliness becomes after a certain point, how it changes shape until even kindness begins to feel suspicious. Friends tell me I am beautiful, talented, easy to adore, but if that were true then why have I always felt so profoundly difficult to keep?

How much sorrow can I take before I stop mistaking abandonment for fate?

Sometimes I still remember his eyes too vividly. Blue sapphires from another planet, cold enough to freeze entire galaxies and yet somehow warm whenever they looked at me. I think the universe should feel ashamed for creating something that beautiful only to place it so briefly inside my life. There are people who survive natural disasters with less damage than what loving him did to me.

Do you ever think about me when you cannot sleep?

Do your hands ever reach across empty sheets searching for something that you can no longer amuse?

My stupid gifts. Are they hidden somewhere inside drawers he never opens anymore, or were they thrown away carelessly with receipts and packaging and yesterday’s inconveniences? Does he remember the sound of my laugh? The way I always stole the marshmallows from his desserts first? The way my fingers curled around the sleeve of his jacket whenever crowds became too overwhelming?

Or was I only memorable to myself?

I mourn not only the love we had, but the version of us that never survived long enough to exist. The mornings we never reached. The apartment we never ruined together. The future that still visits me sometimes in dreams cruel enough to feel real for several seconds after waking. I envy the woman who will someday stand beside him publicly without fear, who will touch his face without grief sitting between her fingers, who will hear him say I love you and never question whether there are ghosts hidden beneath the words.

But calmer than envy is the humiliation of realizing I would still choose him again.

Even now.

Even after everything.

Was anything that came from your mouth true, or was I only another game you learned too late how to stop playing?

Because if you had heard the voice of my heart the very first moment I looked at you, maybe things would have ended differently. Maybe you would have understood that I loved you with a sincerity so frightening it made me feel skinless. Maybe you would have realized sooner that I would have followed you anywhere. That I already had.

Your touch felt like a corpse dragged gently back to life. Every kiss from you rearranged something holy inside me. And that is the tragedy of it all, I think. You taught me how alive love could make a person moments before becoming the reason I no longer know how to survive it.

How much sorrow can I take before loving you becomes my only remaining shape?

There are days I genuinely believe I was built incorrectly for this world, too tender in places where others learned survival, too willing to hand people knives and pray they choose not to use them. Loving someone should not feel like standing barefoot inside a burning cathedral begging God to finally look your way, and yet that is exactly what loving you became.

A thousand fires would not compare to the shame of still wanting you afterward.

And perhaps that is the cruelest part of grief. Not that it hurts, but that eventually it becomes familiar enough to sleep beside. Familiar enough that you start arranging your life around its existence. Feeding it. Watering it. Carrying it carefully from room to room like something precious.

Like love itself never left!

So many more bonus chapters are lined up for you guys! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated. 💚

The week at the garage kept up its usual relentless rhythm, keeping him from fully relaxing. The jobs came in steadily: brake repairs, alignments, and a few oil leaks that seemed simple until the seals turned out to be old and brittle. Nothing was outright disastrous, but everything took a bit longer than expected. A stripped thread here, a seized bolt there—those little under-the-hood setbacks that turn a three-hour job into four and a half without causing panic. He worked late into Wednesday, finally finding a stubborn misfire that had been hiding, but once the bay lights went out, it was all finished.

The work itself doesn’t bother him, as it rarely does. What lingers is the repetition of it—the quiet expectation that he’ll always know what to do next, that he’ll have the answer ready before anyone finishes their question. He’s used to this role, but he still resents the client side of the business, so by Thursday, a faint heaviness begins to cloud his eyes.

Gym sessions had taken the expected hit from the longer hours, with only three completed since last week. Wednesday was skipped entirely because of that misfire, leaving a faint itch of guilt, but he convinced himself he would make up for it later. Tonight, for example. After all, he always hits the gym after the groceries.

Once he’s thoroughly cleaned his hands with paste, he locks the garage and jumps straight into the Jeep. By nine, the store’s lot is almost deserted, just the way he likes it.

The harsh fluorescent lights inside greet him with their usual sterile buzz, pressing against his temples after a long day. He picks up a basket instead of a cart, knowing he won’t need much, and follows the same path he’s taken every Thursday for months, because efficiency has long since become both a habit and second nature.

When he reaches the noodle aisle, you’re already there, facing away from him and examining the array of packaging on the shelves. He could go around you and keep his distance like he always does when someone takes up the space he needs, but he doesn’t. Instead, he walks beside you until you reach an udon display, where he pauses to grab his favorite brand, just as you pause a step away to reach for some soba.

For a brief moment, your hands move nearly in sync. But when he glances sideways, he sees your movements are slower than usual, like there’s resistance, and your hand hovers over the packaging, as if even small choices require more effort than you can muster. When you notice him and look in his direction, even your eyes seem half-lidded and lack their usual brightness.

Last week, he remembers, you already seemed tired, but it was nothing compared to how exhausted you look now. It’s like you’re underwater, and everything takes longer to get done.

“Long week?” he asks, and his voice comes out low and hoarse after an almost silent day. 

The question slips out before he decides whether to keep it to himself. It’s not pity; it’s that he gets it. That’s the same hollowed-out expression he’s seen in the cracked mirror in the garage bathroom after too many fourteen-hour days spent bent over stubborn engines.

He knows what that kind of exhaustion does, how it narrows everything down to the next small task because anything larger would feel impossible, and how it makes even a simple breath feel like a chore. Seeing you like this just cuts right through his typical 'don't care' attitude.

You let out a quiet breath that might have been a laugh if you had more energy to spare.

“The longest.” Your voice sounds absolutely worn down and raw, and whatever softness you carried when you spoke to him over the past few weeks is gone tonight.

He also recognizes that tone all too well; it’s the sound of someone who’s already spent everything they had and kept going anyway.

“Almost over,” he says after a moment, because that’s usually how it works. Weeks end, jobs get finished, and engines that refuse to cooperate eventually give in. 

You nod, and your posture shifts subtly, though he can’t quite identify what it is or how to name it.

The two of you walk down the aisle side by side in silence. He adjusts his pace without consciously deciding to, matching the slower rhythm of your steps so there’s no awkward overtaking and no need to break the quiet that has settled between you.

He’s used to a presence that demands something—conversation, reaction, attention. You don’t demand anything at all; you simply walk beside him, picking up items without comment. He realizes he doesn’t mind the quiet of your company.

At the end of the aisle, he gives you a brief nod, then turns toward the drinks as you head toward the snacks. When he’s done, he pays at the register, loads the bags into the passenger seat of the Jeep, and drives home with the faint itch of a missed workout still on his mind, though now dulled by the simple fact that he’ll be under the barbell soon enough.

tags: @5seos @nerdjoenjoyer @nakiich @sspiralma @plaguecxlt @puttyly @chiaramartyna @shamelessdancer @qq-cup1d @man1cslut @spookyeomgoose @starmapz @sukunash0e @ssoapyyy @ita606 @dianhani @i-luv-mangos @ninani-nanina @alexa4040 @ram3nsukuna @dadonprimma @frigga13 @nessca153 @localfandomjumper @unlimited-impressions @sushikuna @wiredswan

“satoru!” you cried out with a low whimper as your legs kicked once in overstimulation as you all but toppled over the edge, head thrown back in pleasure, the menace above you groaning with a soft grin. the little shit. 

satoru prided himself on knowing women, of course he did. he would have to be stupid not to with the experience he had. but something about you was different. 

maybe it was because he’d never had a steady fuck, but at times, he didn’t know where you ended and he began. satoru acknowledged that it was a problem when he started noticing things he hadn't before. 

like the clench of your jaw when you were overstimulated, the adorable way your eyes would grow all big and teary when you were close and his favorite thing of all, the way your legs kicked when you just felt too fucking good. 

he found himself chasing those little kicks, going harder and faster until he felt you kick against him with that tiny throaty whimper in the back of your throat. fuck, it was an art.

and you knew it too, what with the way he grew impossibly harder whenever your legs pushed out. a menace, really. 

“i know, baby, i know…” satoru soothed against your neck, voice low and amused like he lived for the dragging torture of it all, hands tightening on your hips as you bucked below him, “there she is, c’mon, baby, look at you…” 

you exhaled softly, whimpered maybe, fingers pressing into his abdomen as his thrusts slowed to a low grind allowing you both to ride out the wave of euphoria, now all too familiar, even comforting. you liked the aftermath, basked in the floaty feeling you couldn’t control. 

you could tell satoru was already gazing down at you, his large hand caressing the soft skin of your side, slow and deliberate as you tried to catch your breath. 

yes, the quiet. that was the sole reason you decided to push aside geto’s words from the other night. 

if this is bored then god help us when he's actually invested.

you allowed yourself a day to dwell on his words, to spiral into a pit of what if’s before you willed yourself not to run. every ounce of you wanted to flee. 

fuck, the mere thought of satoru caring for you in that way made you shiver in protest. god forbid. 

one day. you let one day pass before you decided that suguru had to be mistaken. 

how could someone like the notoriously noncommital satoru gojo go from what you knew him to be to something so completely out of character in the short time you knew him? 

it was simply not possible.

so you let it go because frankly, the sex was all too good for you to throw it all away because of a throw away comment that very possibly meant nothing. 

“good job, trouble.” satoru muttered breathlessly as your eyes finally met his own, the man holding his palm towards you in a boyish attempt to high-five you, a lopsided grin on his face. 

you huffed softly, hand still warm against his abdomen as you pushed gently, eyes blank with a nonchalance that irked the white-haired frat boy to no end. 

“get off me, gojo.” 

he was still inside you, half throbbing despite having finished twice inside you. 

and you could feel it. which is why you so desperately needed the man to get off, his weight pressing against your smaller form. 

it was like a timer started the moment you came down from the high he placed you in. every second following the moment you grew coherent and aware were seconds you were allowing him to be with you, to touch and feel and see you because you wanted to. you allowed him to. 

and that was the last thing you wanted, those damned lines blurred anymore than they already were. 

satoru rolled his eyes gently, hand dropping as his eyes shifted down, hips beginning to pull out of you, but your eyes remained on him. 

him and that damned kicked puppy look he always got when you dismissed his attempts to make whatever this was into something softer than the transactional agreement you’d agreed on. 

you noticed everything about him, unfortunately, ever the observer you were. 

the slight clench of his jaw, the way his nostrils flared just barely, the tension that dragged him back down from whatever cloud he always seemed to float on after sex.

you waited for that familiar tug beneath your ribs, that pull to soften and let him blur the lines just a little more.

the feeling never came. and the second he pulled out, you were quick to swing your legs over the side of the bed and walk towards his en suite without sparing him a glance. 

still, you could feel his stare on the expanse of your back, every single time you walked away from him. 

you knew it without turning your head, the weight of his gaze settling somewhere, uncomfortable and heavy in a way you couldn’t quite explain. 

you hated it. despised it, even. 

you especially hated when he looked at you like you were something to figure out, when his stark blue gaze met yours and you could tell- 

sometimes i wanna break open your skull and read all your thoughts. 

you remember almost physically recoiling when he’d uttered that late one night. it wasn’t out of fear, either, but because you felt the collision of his sincerity. 

the memory of him, his eyes, all earnest beneath the light, it felt dangerously close to being seen. 

it made your throat tighten just the slightest bit.

exposed vulnerability never integrated too well with you. 

and your response was predicted, rooted in both irritation at his persistence and the urge to evade any possibility of the conversation growing any more serious than it already was.

don’t make it weird, gojo. 

and what followed is what always treaded on the heels of your unrelenting nature. 

that same dampened smile that was not as bright as his usual cocky grin. a smile smaller than usual but still there for you anyway. 

after a quick shower, you stepped back into his room, steam still clinging to your skin as you tightened the towel around yourself. 

satoru was sprawled across the bed, one arm tucked beneath his head while the other rested low against his stomach, eyes already fixed on you the second you’d emerged. 

“already?” his voice came, softer now, as you began collecting your clothes from the carpeted floor, the towel tight around you.

“yeah.” you answered lowly, eyes downcast as you began pulling up your underwear. 

a beat passed, “stay a bit.” 

you resisted the urge to sigh. 

stay? why would you? 

but you paused just enough for him to notice, sitting up as you began pulling on the rest of your clothes as if his words hadn’t even registered. 

“well, don’t get too excited.” satoru grinned gently, a smile you could see right through but ignored all the same. “here...”

satoru leaned over his bed to the little mini fridge, puling out two chilled bottles and tossing one towards you lazily. 

“thanks.” you stated as he hummed gently, chugging his own down while watching you over the rim as you sipped yours, eyes remaining on him and his the same. eyes meeting somewhere you both couldn’t name. 

“what are you doing tonight?” satoru questioned as you fixed up your tousled hair in the mirror, eyes drifting to him as he sat up, forearms resting against his knees, gaze softer than you liked. 

“chilling, why?”

satoru grinned, “there’s a-”

“party?” you deadpanned, turning to face the grinning man as he crossed his arms.

satoru lips twitched, “ugh, you're obsessed with me.”

you rolled your eyes once, despite that strange tension that still lingered beneath everything. 

subtle and easy to ignore, especially for you, but there nonetheless. 

a week had passed since that conversation with suguru and despite only avoiding satoru for a day, something had shifted afterward, just a bit. 

maybe you were colder now, or maybe you were simply paying attention to things you didn’t before. 

either way, satoru noticed too. 

because despite your distance, despite the walls and avoidance and clipped responses, you still came whenever he called. 

“not a party this time," satoru promised with a smirk, "we’re all goin’ to a bar tonight.” 

you hummed before turning to face him, “how grown of you.” 

he huffed out a laugh, “shut up.” 

you simply shook your head, taking another sip of water as he continued watching you from the bed, “you should come.”

your eyes flicked to him instantly and you resisted the urge to scoff. 

absolutely not. 

you and frat parties were already enough of a social nightmare, but voluntarily accompanying satoru and his friends to a crowded bar sounded like genuine psychological warfare. 

“should i?” you deadpanned, words smothered in a lack of enthusiasm satoru caught, “no thanks.”

his grin widened immediately like he’d expected the answer before the thought had even entered his brain, “y’didn’t even think about it!”

“i did,” you replied flatly, reaching for your bag by the door, "thought about it very quickly.”

“c’mon,” he dragged out, a pout practically painting his lips and though you didn’t particularly dwell over him, it was nice to see him more like himself, “it’ll be fun.”

you scoffed softly, “we have very different definitions of fun, gojo.”

“ouch,” gojo gasped, hand pressing to his chest in mock offense, “real judgemental from someone who was screaming my name not even thirty minutes ago.”

you merely shot him a look and he laughed then, properly this time. 

god, he had a nice laugh. 

you hated that too. 

“just think about it,” he stated after a moment, quieter now, “don’t gotta say yes now.” 

“i’m probably not going, gojo.”

his eyes brightened, “probably?” 

you rolled your eyes. of course he’d latch onto that word alone. 

“don’t start.” 

“that sounds better than no to me,” he grinned before finally relenting with a shake of his head, “m’just sayin’. could be nice.” 

there it was again. that softness he kept trying to slip between the cracks of your arrangement like he was hoping you wouldn’t notice. you noticed everything. 

which is exactly why he wouldn't be seeing you tonight. 

“a lotta things could be nice,” you huffed as you placed the strap of your bag on your shoulder, “bye, gojo.”

he watched you walk out of his room, the door shutting behind you and exhaled slowly through his nose. 

something was off. 

he didn’t know what exactly but he felt it every tine you looked at him now. as if you ever looked at him with anything but that bluntness in your gaze, but it just seemed more prominent now. 

you used to soften, at least just after sex. his truth serum dick window. 

a mere fifteen to twenty minutes where your head was still fuzzy in a cloud of euphoria, he could talk to you about practically anything, ask you about anything. 

now, even after sex, you stiffened when he got too close to whatever invisible line you kept drawn between you both. 

and fuck, he hated that line. and he hated how aware of it he’d become. 

before you, satoru never really cared whether people stayed or left. 

girls came and went in an endless rotation of fucks, they were merely a blur in his mind, faces and names fading into the background of frat parties and bad decisions, only temporary fun. 

satoru liked people, he knew them well. he was charming to a fault, able to present himself in any way he needed to to get his way. 

but he never needed them. 

not his fuckass family, not even his frat.

but you? 

well, he didn’t know if needed was the right word. but you were different in the worst possible way. 

you stayed in his head, fucked with him all the fucking time.

he’d be in class thinking about the way your nose scrunched when you were annoyed. he’d be at practice remembering some comment you’d muttered three nights ago. 

his fifteen minute window post-sex allowed him to collect little memories and information about you that he cherished more than he liked to admit. 

it was pathetic. worse, it was new. 

satoru gojo had never been this guy before. 

the kind of man who waited around for texts or replayed conversations trying to figure out what shifted. or the kind to stare at his ceiling at two in the morning wondering where someone was or whether they got home safe. 

he’d especially never been the kind of idiot who wanted to know someone this badly. 

because that was it, really.

it wasn’t just sex, he wasn’t sure it ever was. he wanted to know things, 

he wanted to know why your mood shifted whenever he asked about family, why you always looked half-ready to run, why you never stayed the night, why you looked at him sometimes like caring about you was the worst thing he could possibly do. 

and every time he tried getting closer, you shut another door in his face. 

still, he kept trying. like a fucking idiot. 

satoru dropped back against his pillows with a groan, dragging both his hands down his face. 

this was so unfair. 

of all the people he could’ve ended up wanting like this, of all the girls on campus who would've gladly fallen into his arms without making him work for every microscopic inch…

he had to feel these emotions for the first time towards the one girl who treated vulnerability like a disease.

he was absolutely fucked. 

☀︎

the bar was loud in the way only campus bars could be, all sticky floors and the music too heavy and laughter bled into shouting until everything became one overwhelming blur of bodies and alcohol. 

satoru usually loved this bar, he thrived in these very environments. 

he loved the noise, the attention, the easy feeling of walking into a room and knowing people would gravitate toward him without him having to try. 

tonight, though, something felt off. 

“for the last fuckin’ time,” shoko graoned from beside him, cigarette balaced lazily between her fingers despite the bartender glaring daggers her way, “stop looking at the door then checking your phone then looking at the door then checking your phone then-”

“shut up.” satoru muttered with a huff, leaning back against the booth as his eyes wandered over the sea of people. 

some of the boys were playing pool with a group of girls while the other half were drunkenly playing darts which would end with sukuna pulling a dart out of choso’s arm. again. 

utahime leaned against the counter beside her with a sigh, “what are you waiting for, satoru? your pretty biker?” 

satoru instantly glared at her, “i was checking the time.” 

“you checked the time four times in one minute.” shoko deadpaned, sharing a glance with utahime that screamed this guy’s pathetic. 

satoru scoffed, “time changes.”

“ugh, you’re so embarrassing…” utahime muttered into her drink as satoru ignored them both, though his jaw tightened slightly as his knee bounced beneath the counter. 

he felt so fucking stupid. why did he think probably meant anything other than absolutely fucking not. 

it was you. of course you weren’t coming. 

still, some stupid part of him kept glancing toward the entrance anyway, half expecting to see you walk in with that bored expression on your utterly pretty face, as if you hadn't occupied his every waking thought for the past six hours. 

“seriously, though, what the hell’s wrong with you lately?” shoko leaned forward, eyeing him carefully, “you’ve been off.” 

“i haven’t been off-”

“you’ve been off.” choso stated as he took a seat by hime, rubbing his bicep where satoru could see a little scratch from the dart, eyes downcast as he grabbed a nacho from the plate.

satoru scoffed, “the hell do you know-”

“you got rejected or somethin’?” choso continued through a mouthful of cheesy nachos making shoko grimace as satoru’s jaw clenched, opening his mouth to speak-

“he absolutely got rejected,” suguru breathed out, taking a seat beside shoko breathlessly, “repeatedly, actually. at his own accord-”

“shut the fuck up.” satoru practically growled, leg kicking against suguru’s shin as he groaned at the impact. 

“so this really is all about that girl-” 

“the biker chick?” sukuna walked towards them then, choso moving to allow the vice president to sit beside him, “ah yeah, he’s down catastrophic.” 

the table then got into a discussion about who was down worse, sukuna or satoru. 

satoru didn’t hear a thing, the group dissolving into discussion and teasing and laughter while satoru leaned back against the booth with an irritated sigh, fingers twitching toward his phone before stopping himself. 

he really needed to get a fucking grip. he was satoru fucking gojo. 

girls practically fell at his feet, he was absolute royalty. 

he wasn’t supposed to be the one sitting in a bar feeling badly because one emotionally constipated girl hadn't show up. 

“another round?” suguru asked, already signaling the bartender for more. 

“fuckin’ please.” satoru muttered instantly and maybe that was his first mistake. 

because one round turned into three surprisingly quick, then four, and suddenly, the buzzing beneath his skin dulled just enough for him to stop checking the entrance every five seconds. 

it was around one in the morning when a familiar dark-haired girl slid into the empty spot beside him. 

emi. her sultry almond eyes were the same, all manipulation and false affection. 

she laughed at everything he said, touched his arm too much, leaned into his space just enough to have him leaning back into her. 

the past few weeks, girls’ advances weren’t quite met back with enthusiasm by the frat president, because he already had his fix. 

this time, though, he didn’t stop her. 

“missed you, toru…” she stated lowly, hands resting against his thigh as his head leaned back against the booth, those very eyes drifting between her eyes and hands. 

“yeah?” satoru lowly stated, voice all husky and deep, hazy from the plethora of drinks. 

it felt good to be wanted. and fuck, did emi want him. 

everyone knew that much. 

his mind couldn’t help but drift to you for a moment, of course it did. 

you wanted him when you needed him, but you didn’t just want him like he wanted you. you didn’t want him all the time. 

and that was what you’d agreed on, so why was it such a big deal now? 

maybe he needed this, to stop acting insane over a girl who couldn’t give a fuck less what he was doing. 

your deal didn’t include exclusivity or not to sleep with other people. it was just to keep each other in the loop if you did. 

fuck, satoru felt his stomach churn at the prospect of you with another man. 

he pushed that thought away before it could fully consume him, just as emi leaned closer, breath tickling the skin of his neck, right over the little mark you’d left on his jaw this morning. 

he wore it like a badge of honor, like a goddamn idiot. 

“we had a lotta fun, remember, babe?” she stated more than asked, grinning all nice like and satoru smirked drunkenly, her face a bit blurry but still visually appealing enough to have him leaning in just a bit. 

“oh, i know.” 

she giggled at that, her other hand moving to rest on his chest.

shoko and utahime had already gone back home an hour ago, sukuna as well. 

the rest of the boys were scattered around the bar and suguru kept his eyes on his snow-haired friend where he stood across the room. 

their eyes met for half a second and suguru’s expression shifted instantly. don’t. 

satoru looked away first. 

why shouldn’t he? 

just because this uncharacteristic version of himself was amusing to suguru? it was hell. 

granted, suguru, as well as his entire frat hated emi’s guts. for many reasons. 

before he could even attempt to recall those very reasons, emi was kissing him, quick and needy. 

satoru kissed her back, hands by his sides but lips moving against hers like muscle memory had taken over.

it felt different. he was waiting for that shot of electricity up his spine that he’d grown accustomed to. for that feral need to touch to come over him.

the girl practically climbed atop his lap, hands still by his sides as she cupped his jaw, lips moving messily and eagerly over him, no rhyme or rhythm. 

“ugh, you’re so hot-” she moaned before she pressed herself against him once more, satoru growing stiffer instead of melting by the second.

just enough time passed for him to realize that this felt absolutely nothing like kissing you. you and your pillowy soft lips, the soft sounds that came from somewhere deep in your throat, as if they clawed their way out, despite your best efforts to keep them at bay. 

you and the honeyed way you said his name, his actual name. 

satoru. the word left you rarely but so fucking devastatingly, your gentle hands and your pretty body that fit against his like fate itself intervened when placing you in his path.

you were so fucking addicting, even having a pretty girl on his lap did nothing for him. 

what the fuck were you doing to him? 

satoru pulled away then, lips all swollen as he looked to the side, eyes still hazy but mind more sober. 

emi began peppering kisses down his jaw, his neck, until he pressed a hand to her shoulder. 

“stop,” satoru stated, gently maneuvering her away from him to the seat once more, “m’not into this.” 

emi scoffed instantly, eyes firing up in that familiar way he remembered, “not into this?! oh please, you were obsessed with me!”

satoru almost wanted to laugh. 

emi was the obsessed one, following him around since freshman year. 

she was the head girl of kappa kappa gamma, and you could tell with a glance that she wasn’t used to hearing the word no. which is probably why she was so enamored with satoru. 

she came back after the summer of their first year looking good. she’d gotten her tits done, that was a given. all of campus were talking about it at the time. he’s sure something else had changed but either way, she looked good. 

so he fucked her. 

aside from you, she was his most steady fuck, on and off all of sophmore year. 

they were never exclusive or anything and he still slept with other girls if he pleased, but he knew she was there if he needed a quick fix.

until she started acting just a bit too crazy and satoru cut her off. she’d been obsessed with him since then. 

satoru almost wanted to laugh, karma really was a bitch because this time around, with you, he was the fucking crazy one.

oh please, you were obsessed with me!

satoru wanted to laugh at that too. 

if he was obsessed with her then what was it that he felt for you? 

did he fucking worship you? was that it? 

if obsession was emi than you must have been driving him to insanity. 

satoru couldn’t recall what had taken place after that, all he knew was that choso and sugugu were pulling the short-haired girl off of him and pulling him up, his long arms dangling over each of their shoulders. 

“c’mon, mr president, lets take you home.” choso stated, blunt resting between his lips as they walked him towards the door, satoru leaning his head against his shoulder in imbalance.

fuck, he’d wished you’d just shown up. 

☀︎

“should we call someone?” oscar questioned, eyes squinted as he tilted his head. 

you hummed from your place beside him, your own eyes widened, “like who?” 

the little boy shifted, knees digging into the couch as one arm rested around your shoulder, small fingers fidgeting with the ends of your hair gently, “i don’t know, like, the pope?” 

you scoffed, “what would the pope do, oz?”

“something! i’ve never seen this before!” 

your little brother’s eyes that mirrored your own was filled with genuine concern, yours equally so.

it was comical the way both your heads tilted in sync as you watched the scene before you-

“y’know i can hear your stupid asses, right?” the eldest of your two younger brothers muttered without looking up from the worksheet in front of him, pen tapping aggressively against the paper. 

sonny, who was hunched over the dining room table, a pen in hand as he did…homework. voluntarily. 

“language, asshole!” you scolded as oscar huffed gently.

“grandma says if you swear too much, your hair falls out!” oscar informed, face serious and eyes wide. 

sonny finally looked up then, “grandma also said that stupid drawing you brought home was like picasso’s.” 

“sonny!” you scolded, hand moving to oscar’s back as he gaped at his older brother. 

“this is why grandma says you’re a delinquent!” 

“spell delinquent-”

“okay, enough.” you shushed them both as you stood up, moving towards sonny who was hunched over his algebra homework, “you feeling okay, kid?” 

sonny scoffed gently, “yes, i’m fine, mom.”

you crossed your arms, “you sure?”

sonnu huffed, slamming his pen down as his eyes met yours, “yes, i’m sure, what is up with you?” 

you shrugged gently, “i don’t know. i just thought the day i see you doing homework, i’d also see pigs in the sky.” 

sonny rolled his eyes as oscar padded over, moving to stand beside you, mirroring your crossed arms. 

you resisted the urge to smile, a little mini you. 

“is this because grandma took your xbox?”

realization dawned on you as you laughed softly, “ahh, this makes sense now.” 

sonny merely met your eyes with a blank stare, “she said if i failed another test, she’s selling it.” 

you pulled out the chair across from him as oscar followed beside you. 

you glanced at the paper to see two bolded words atop that made you gasp softly, “this is extra credit.”

sonny’s jaw clenched as oscar giggled softly, “sun’s a nerd!” 

you giggled gently along with him, eyes racking over your brother’s red cheeks.

“shut UP.” sonny hissed, lunging for the eight year old boy who darted behind you instantly, laughing hysterically.

another soft laugh left you as oscar clutched at the back of your shirt, “okay, settle down, einstein.” 

sonny huffed as he relented, sitting back down with his arms crossed. 

you softened then, a small smile playing on your lips as a sense of gentle relief filled you. 

you often worried about sonny more than you did oscar, more than your grandma. 

he wasn’t a delinquent, as your grandma often exaggerated, but he was somewhat troubled. something you didn’t blame him for being, especially as you played a part.

you leaving for college only worsened his misbehavior, something you couldn't help but still carried the guilt of. 

“why are you doing extra credit, sun?”

sonny shifted in his seat, eyes still blazing, “for extra credit. it’s in the name, dumbass.” 

“that’s a chunk of hair gone!” oscar stated as he munched on the cut up fruit on the table. 

sonny glared at the little boy before gazing back up at you, your eyes soft, familiar and gentle enough to have his shoulders dropping, “i like my xbox.” 

your head tilted back in laughter as the boy huffed, “will you help me or not?” 

you tried to keep your smile at bay, truly, you did. 

but sony looked so genuinely irritated by all of this that another round of laughter bubbled out before you could stop it, oscar quick to follow as sonny huffed, gathering his things as if he was about to make a run for it. 

“no, no, i’m sorry! i’ll help!” you grinned, relenting as the boy glared at you but remained put, allowing you to slide the paper over to you and oscar’s side. 

both of you huddled over the paper, your youngest brother merely copying your movements because god knows, he knew fuck all about algebra. 

“okay,” you muttered, scanning the page, “what the fuck is this?” 

“language!” oscar yelled as you patted his back gently, eyes still squinting over the page.

“let me get this straight, you can do that whole organic chemistry shit but you can’t do algebra?”

you scoffed, "i haven’t done algebra since freaking high school! there’s a reason i chose science, idiot!”

sonny scoffed, “right, i’m the idiot.” 

sonny then proceeded to go into this whole story about this one guy in his class, oscar nodding along like his older brother’s words were gospel. something in your chest loosened just a little.

it was all so achingly familiar, so heartbreakingly nostalgic. 

the noise and bickering, oscar attached to your side and sonny pretending like he didn’t care whether you came home or not despite hovering around you the second you walked through the door. 

you knew what role you occupied here, something your poor grandma couldn’t replicate which is why sonny gives her such a hard time. 

sometimes it felt like you’d skipped being a teenager entirely and maybe that was why people like satoru made you itch beneath your skin. 

he made things easier, softer in a way you weren’t familiar with. 

you hated it. 

☀︎

the second the train doors opened, rain slammed into you sideways. 

hard and violent enough that people exiting beside you immediately cursed under their breaths, some scrambling to pull jackets over their heads as thunder cracked overhead. 

you paused beneath the station awning with a frustrated sigh, arms crossing over your sweater clad body, completely void of a proper jacket. you had forgotten it home at your grandma’s. 

fuck, your apartment was a thirty minute walk which was usually fine, except it was fucking freezing and probably bound to storm soon. 

you pulled out your phone, opening your messages quickly and scrolling through until you found luna’s number, going to press on her contact name before your screen went black. 

“oh, fuck off.” you muttered as your head tilted back against the cold bricks, eyes shutting in absolute disbelief. just your fucking luck. 

“lady, it’s about to storm, you should get going. all outgoing trains are cancelled.” a man with a navy vest stated, the pin at his chest indicating his place as one of the train staff. 

“right. thanks.” you stated before he nodded, walking away as you looked ahead at the heavy rain. 

another crash of thunder echoed overhead, rainwater splashing violently against the pavement while people rushed towards cars and buses around you. 

you narrowed your eyes at the black sky before sighing. fuck it.

hugging yourself tightly, you stepped out into the rain. 

ten minutes later, you deeply regretted every decision that had led you to this point. 

you knew it was gonna rain and still decided to come back to campus because of your stupid lab tomorrow morning that you truly afforded to miss. 

your shoes squelched with every miserable step, jeans soaked through entirely while freezing rainwater clung to your lashes, tote bag barely hanging onto your shoulder. 

the wind nearly knocked you off your feet as you swayed with every huge gust, another crack of thunder splitting overhead. 

“you look fuckin’ homeless.” 

you stopped walking instantly, a black truck crawled alongside the curb beside you, window rolled down just enough to reveal sukuna’s unimpressed face beneath the glow of passing streetlights. 

you stared at him blankly, “good to see you too.” 

sukuna’s lip twitched, “get in the truck.” 

you resisted the urge to scoff, “said the kidnapper.” 

you turned on your feet, continuing your dreadful walk and after a mere ten seconds, sukuna’s truck followed, “get in the truck.”

“i’m good.” 

“you are visibly not good, stupid.” 

your jaw clenched, turning to face the pink haired vice president, “please don’t be so convincing.” 

the rain came in sheets as you squinted once more, continuing your walk before sukuna scoffed, truck slowly moving beside you, “look, i’d like nothin’ more than to leave your ass freezin’ out here but my girl told me that people have this thing called a conscience, so.”

you shivered, “god bless your girlfriend’s patience.”

another gust of wind hit you directly then and you physically recoiled.

sukuna noticed instantly, “get. in.” 

“you’re such a-”

a bike whirled passed then, right over a puddle that ended up flooding the front of you completely and your jaw clenched so tight, your molars hurt.

you could practically feel the smirk on the vice president’s face, “i imagine you’re coming in then.” 

no words left you as you climbed into the passenger seat of his truck, warmth hitting you instantly, you almost moaned in appreciation. 

sukuna snorted beside you as you slammed the door shut, “fuckin’ pathetic.” 

“fuck you.” 

you shoved your wet hair away from your face while he pulled back onto the main road, windshield wipers fighting for their lives against the storm outside. 

for a minute, silence settled between you outside the low hum of the engine.

“why are you even walking in this weather?” sukuna scoffed after a moment.

“just decided to take a nice stroll.” you stated emotionlessly, eyes trained on the blur of cars outside before glancing at the man, “train.” 

“your survival instincts are ass.” 

you rolled your eyes, leaning your head back against the seat, “i’m well aware.” 

“you from the city too?” sukuna questioned as you glanced over at him once more, his hand clutching the steering wheel, forearms thick and littered with tattoos. 

one stood out, a small pair of angel wings on his hand. it was pretty. 

“yeah.” you stated simply. the last thing you wanted was to have small talk when you were soaking wet with rain water. 

you knew sukuna understood that, the silence enveloping you both, a mutual understanding settling between you. 

if it was fucking satoru here, he’d properly yap your ear off about god knows what. you’d shush him over and over and he’d still find the energy to talk. 

he’d properly distract you from the wet cold feeling against you, though. he was funny when he wanted to be. he’d also be able to keep you warm because you didn’t mind when he touched you, unlike other people, men especially. 

you even flinched when luna hugged you. 

the last time you’d seen satoru was two days ago, the same morning he’d asked you to come to the bar with his friends. and he hadn’t texted you since then which was strange for him. 

you appreciated the space, though. but it made it evidently clear that you were growing used to the annoyance that was satoru gojo. 

yu wondered what he was doing. surely no party was happening in the midst of a storm, but you wouldn’t completely put it past him. 

if anything, he’d make a theme of it all. 

as if sukuna could read your mind, the familiar strip of greek row came into view and your stomach churned, “why are we here?” 

sukuna hummed, “because i dnon’t know where the fuck you live and the frat was only ten minutes away. i’m not driving in a storm, dipshit.”

your jaw clenched alongside your fists, “i didn’t fucking tell you to drive in the storm, did i, asshole? you’re the one who pestered me-”

“spell pestered-”

“i’m gonna-” 

sukuna was already climbing out of the truck, the vehicle shutting off, the warmth being stripped away from you as you shivered almost instantly. 

“your choice, grumpy,” sukuna stated as he walked towards the frat, glancing at you over his shoulder, "either make the walk or come in.” 

with that, he began walked down the pathway to the house as you jumped out of the truck, genuinely contemplating for a moment.

either you go home which was twenty minutes away or go in and leave your pride right here. 

fuck, you pride was still on the steps of that goddamn train station. 

rain was soaking you all over again during the short sprint toward the front door. 

“asshole.” you stated as sukuna smirked. 

“witch.” he replied as you huffed. 

music and shouting echoed faintly inside once sukuna shoved the door open, warmth flooding over you once more as you shivered still, teeth chattering just the slightest bit.

you had to be on the verge of hypothermia. 

the living room was crowded with frat boys sprawled across the couches and the carpeted floor, yelling over a cod match playing loudly on the tv, four boys taking a hold of their own controllers. 

and you hated the way your eyes seeked him out almost instantly, eyes racking over the faceless boys before settling on the one face that no one could really miss. 

satoru was stretched across the couch in grey sweats and a black compression shirt, controller loose in one hand while he laughed at something choso said beside him. 

“hands off my shit, assholes.” sukuna glared at the two pledges who had sukuna’s switch in their hands, their eyes instantly widening. you would bet on the fact that they had shit themselves right then and there. 

sukuna’s booming voice had satoru glancing up and his gaze almost instantly flickered to you. you, you, you. 

everything stopped, really and truly, satoru felt the moment shift. 

his grin vanished instantly, and he could swear he was hallucinating. 

the situation didn’t even register. why would you be here? why would you be with the likes of ryomen sukuna of all people? 

though his mind embarrassingly often conjured up thoughts of you, the flushing of your cheeks, the softness of your hair, the way your lashes fluttered, he was still struck every single time he saw you. 

“hey.” the word left you then and he physically gulped. 

his heart stilled momentarily and he knew he wasn’t going crazy then. this was no hallucination. 

he could recall how soft your voice was, how gentle and calming despite your usual blunt nature but the underlying emotion, the shaky breath, the subtle depth he couldn’t conjure up. not in with his greatest efforts. 

he knows because he’s tried.

“what the fuck?” 

you barely had time to react before he was standing before you, making it to you in three long strides, controller abandoned and game forgotten.

his eyes flicked over to sukuna, eyes unusually heated, “why the fuck-”

sukuna was quick to interrupt him, “found your girl wanderin’ the streets like a wet cat.”

with that, the pink-haired frat boy made his way up to his room, allowing satoru to glare at him momentarily before deciding he had more important things to deal with.

his eyes dragged over you rapidly like he was checking for injuries. 

you blinked once, eyes tinted a slight blue making his heart clench, “he’s insufferable.” 

satoru couldn’t stop the grin that split his lips then, eyes racking over the pretty expanse of your face, heart clenching in appreciation. he fucking missed you.

“yeah, that’s sukuna for ya.”

you merely hummed, a shiver taking over as satoru tutted once, hands reaching out and brushing over your soaked sleeves.

“hell, you’re freezing.” 

“i’m fine.” you muttered through chattering teeth. 

“you’re shivering.” 

“that’s how cold works, gojo.”

his hands clenched at the name, huffing as he dragged you toward the stairs by your hand and you’d usually hate this, but you so desperately ached for the warmth you knew he could provide. 

you needed a bath and a change of clothes yesterday. 

the familiar expanse of his room was warm as he shoved the door open, immediately moving around the space while you hovered awkwardly near the entrance dripping rainwater on the floor.

“go shower,” satoru instantly began moving around the room, “i’ll get you a change of clothes.”

you blinked, swallowing down the urge to flee at the obvious concern in his tone. 

a part of you wanted to make up an excuse and just go home, storm be damned. 

except he looked so utterly real. 

you never thought you’d envy satoru gojo, not in the slightest. 

alas, here you were. 

you desperately wanted to know how he did it. how he didn’t shy away from anything remotely out of his depth. how he was so unapologetically him in the most admirable way possible. 

ugh, did you admire satoru of all people? 

yes, you admired his ability to never run. 

you wished you could be that brave. 

“what are you doing?” satoru stood there, a hoodie and plaid pajama pants in his hands.

“what?” you uttered dumbly as the man scoffed.

“you’re soaked.” 

“observant.” 

satoru shot you a look before handing you the clothes and a soft grey towel, “smartass.” 

you shook your head, eyes looking up at him in a way that made his ribs thump uncomfortably. 

god, you couldn’t be real. 

the way your lips were plump from your biting, cheeks flushed with the cold, eyes big and trusting in a way he hadn’t expected, the way your soaked tresses framed your pretty face. 

you made him feel so much, he could barely stand. 

“they won’t fit you, but whatever…” he breathed out, as if someone had stolen it right from his lungs. 

your gaze lingered on him longer than it ever had before because beneath all the attitude, he seemed worried. for you. 

please, no no no no. 

“thanks.” you muttered quietly, eyes finally glancing away towards the clothes in hand, taking ahold of them before moving towards the bathroom. 

you didn’t miss the way his expression had softened. dangerously so. 

☀︎

by the time you’d stepped out of the shower twenty minutes later, the storm had somehow gotten worse. 

rain hammered violently against the windows while thunder rattled the room itself.

your damp hair clung to your skin under the large hoodie that had engulfed you entirely, his plaid pants being held up by your hair tie that had knotted the extra fabric. 

satoru looked up from his phone the second you’d emerged, visibly freezing. 

his eyes dragged over you slowly. 

his clothes had swallowed you adorably, cheeks flushed from the heat of the shower this time and his chest physically ached in a way that had his jaw clenching. 

something shifted in his ace instantly, something devastatingly soft. 

“what.” you demanded more than asked, shifting from one foot to the other. 

satoru blinked once before shrugging, “nothing.” 

you glanced towards the window as lightning flashed outside, “storm’s bad.”

“yeah,” satoru muttered, eyes still fixed on you, “road’s are fucked.” 

you reached for your phone instinctively before remembering your earlier issue.

“can i use your charger?” 

“yea-” 

as if the world had it out for you, you specifically, darkness enveloped you whole then. 

the light of the bathroom shut completely, the soft sound of his mini fridge stalling and everything went dark. 

you couldn’t help the slight terror that brushed over you for a moment, “satoru?!”

“m’here, baby, c’mere.” 

you felt a brush of something against your sleeve and you immediately followed his voice, huddling close as you heard the chaos of the boys downstairs. 

“fucking fuck,” satoru cursed as he let oit a breath, arm around your shoulders as he gently maneuvered you to take a seat on the edge of his bed, “m’gonna grab some candles. wait here, okay?”

“where else would i go, gojo?” 

the man simply ignored your words, feeling his way through the darkness for his phone before finding it by the edge of his desk. 

he turned the flash on, glancing at you once before making his way out of the room. 

ten minutes later, the entirety of satoru’s room was littered with candles, setting the room aglow, a soft yellow and orange tone that flickered against the walls and ceiling. 

it should’ve felt eerie but instead, it felt strangely warm. 

it was intimate in a way that made something beneath your ribs tighten. 

satoru dripped back onto the floor beside the bed with a dramatic sigh, long legs stretched out in front of him as rain battered violently against the windows. 

“well,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, “this is romantic.”

you started blankly at the man, “for who?” 

“me,” he answered instantly, grinning obnoxiously, “you’re in my clothes. power’s out. surrounded by candlelight…this should be our first date.” 

you couldn’t help the tilt of your lips at his utter ridiculousness. 

“there it is,” he grinned softly, “like striking gold. every time.” 

your brows furrowed, “what?” 

“that tiny smile.” 

“i’m not smiling.” you scoffed instantly, almost offended at the very prospect.

“okay, trouble, whatever you say.” 

you rolled your eyes once, huffing gently as your eyes roamed around his room. 

it looked different in candlelight, softer and more boyish. 

the pictures of him and his friends littered across his room in little glimpses of his life that you never really cared to ask about. it all seemed more endearing under the glow. 

silence settled between you both, comfortable, which somehow felt more dangerous than the flirting. 

your gaze drifted towards the mini fridge by his desk, “you got anything to drink?” 

“mhm,” satoru pushed himself up immediately before crouching beside it, “cherry coke, perhaps?"

your brows furrowed, “how do you-”

“you told me.”

how did he seem to continuously gather this information about you when you had no recollection of telling him about it?

you loved cherry coke, it was an absolute god send. 

there was something so achingly nostalgic and delicious about it. 

“fuck…” satoru muttered as he reached into the fridge. 

“what?”

he turned slowly, holding up a single can of diet cherry coke. one. 

“it’s mine.” you stated with a furrow in your brow as satoru grinned menacingly. 

“hmm, i dunno…” he muttered, allowing the door of the fridge to shut as he made his way back over, sitting back down with the coke in hand, “y’know, you really put me on these. having one doesn’t sound so bad right now.”

you glared at him, jaw clenching just a bit as you eyed the can in his hand, “give it, gojo.” 

satoru’s eyes brightened, “alright, yeah, i will...if you agree to play a game with me.”

your eyes narrowed at the man, distrusting but also contemplative. 

you really wanted a cherry coke right now. 

“what game?” 

and you could physically see the shift in his gaze, the way his blue eyes had been overcome with something dangerous, borderlining on menacing as he leaned back on the side of the bed, one knee bent lazily. 

“truth or strip.” 

you stared at him blankly, “are you twelve?” 

satoru shrugged with a hum, eyes glancing down to the can in hand, long fingers cracking open the can with menacing cruelty, “i’ll just take my drink then.” 

you narrowed your eyes at him as he lofted the can to his lips, the soft fizz from the inside mocking you as he took a sip. 

“fine.” 

satoru pulled the can away from his lips, a smirk painting his features as his head tilted at you, tonguing the inside of his cheek just the slightest bit. 

“good girl,” he stated with a grin before sitting up properly, “rules of the game. each of us gets to ask a question in turns. about anything and everything. and the other has to be honest. if you’re not, you lose. if you don’t wanna answer a question, strip one item of clothing.” 

your brows furrowed, “and how will we know if the other is lying?” 

satoru smirked, “because i pinky promise i won’t lie.” 

you rolled your eyes at the mocking tone of his words, his pinky held out as you eyed him with mild irritation. 

you clasped your finger around his anyways, “fine. give me the coke.” 

just like that, the can of coke was in your hands and you were in satoru’s. 

☀︎

“how is beautiful boy your favorite movie? it’s so depressing!” satoru argued as he laid on his back on the floor while you remained in a criss cross position across from him.

satoru was now shirtless and you were missing both of your socks which he claimed was cheating. 

“gojo, you cannot argue and ask more questions about every single answer i give you.” you stated for what might possibly be the fifth time. 

satoru huffed gently, head turning to glance up at you, “you’re a sociopath.”

you merely rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your coke as you glanced at his bare chest and abs where the candlelight flickered nicely. he looked good. 

“your turn, trouble.” 

you hummed before glancing around his room, as if it would magically conjure up some questions to ask. 

your eyes fell upon a picture of a younger satoru gojo beside an older woman with the same striking blue eyes and stark white hair. 

“are you close with your parents?” 

a lame question, really, but this was hard for you. 

you hated receiving questions, let alone asking them. 

and to be completely honest, you didn't really care to. you didn’t need to know satoru like that, you knew enough. you knew what you needed to know. 

except, something came over satoru then, in a way you’d never seen before. his eyes, usually expressive and carrying his emotions like a blanket, grew blank in a way that was all too familiar to you.

you watched him for a moment, the way his eyes casted over with something you couldn’t name, his jaw clenching along with it. 

“my mom, yeah.” 

his voice carried a heaviness you never really found with satoru, something so utterly different than his usual light-heartedness. 

his eyes didn’t meet yours and silence followed. 

again, you didn't really want to particularly pry so you let it go. but you did store away that little piece of information away. 

stupid damn game. 

“my turn,” as if a switch flipped, he was grinning again, the cloudiness in his gaze dwindling as he looked up at you, “why do you go back to the city so often?” 

your heart thumped once, hand tightening against the drink in your hand. 

you had your pants and hoodie left, meaning only two more questions you could dodge. fuck. 

“i visit my brothers.” you answered simply, taking a sip of your drink as satoru watched you like he couch read your very thoughts as they conjured up. 

you think it was his eyes, they were always way too intense for possibly anyone he was speaking to. 

“are you close with them-”

“again with the follow up questions, gojo.” you stated in irritation as you traced the rim of the can in hand, satoru sitting up and leaning against the bedframe beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. 

and you didn’t know if it was the heat of him beside you or the candlelit room that made you stupidly utter, “have you ever been in love?” 

satoru paused, head leaning back against the bed, tilted to the side so he gazed upon the side of your face. you looked up slowly, eyes meeting his and his breath hitched. 

satoru pondered it for a moment. had he been in love? no. 

mostly because he never gave anyone the chance. 

“no, i don’t think i have…” satoru muttered, breath fanning the softness of your face. he was so close, “don’t think i ever wanted someone long enough.” 

fair enough. you simply hummed in understanding as you took a sip of your coke. 

“right back at ya.” satoru whispered as you swallowed softly. 

have you ever been in love?

“umm, no.” you replied with a small shrug, “no, i don’t think i have.” 

satoru wasn’t surprised, “why?”

this time, you merely shot him a glare at his question and he smirked softly, though there was no teasing beneath it. 

you were aware of the subtle shift, of the tension that had been building since he suggested this stupid game. you ignored it. 

“why are you not close with your dad?” 

really, it didn’t matter if he answered or not but you knew this had to be a touchy subject based on his previous answer, so there was a higher likelihood of him stripping. 

satoru’s jaw clenched once before he began tugging his sweats off, now only in his black briefs. 

“why do you always rush away after sex?” he questioned as you paused momentarily. 

and just like that, you were shrugging his hoodie up and over your head, except you weren’t wearing a bra because it was currently damp with rain and drying on his bathtub. 

your forearm spread over your tits as satoru watched you like something holy, as if he hadn’t seen you topless multiple times beforehand. 

still, his jaw clenched with effort, eyes gazing upon familiar exposed skin, beauty marks littering here and there, little constellations he’d traced with his tongue more times than he could count. 

under the soft glow of the candles, you looked impossibly pretty, it made him instantly strain against his boxers. fuck, you were gonna make him insane. 

“nothin’ i haven’t seen before, baby…” satoru drawled lowly, eyes hooded and tracing your skin as you huffed gently. 

you could tell he was growing aroused, the game coming to a close sooner than you’d anticipated. you recognized the look in his eyes, the half lidded nature, the baby that only left him during sex. 

“my turn,” you muttered, eyes trained on him and his never left yours, “why do you always try to make things weird?” 

satoru groaned lowly as he immediately began shrugging off his briefs, as if he hadn’t even registered the question, but merely wanted to get naked for you. 

and naked, he was. 

satoru gojo completely bare and exposed beneath the warm glow of candlelight was honestly a ridiculous sight. ridiculous because truly, no one should be able to look that good. 

his snowy locks were messy from his tugging, ocean eyes dark and heavy as they traced over you slowly. the bar skin of your stomach, your wide eyes, every miniscule expression that you tried so desperately to suppress. like he wanted to commit it all to memory. 

you swallowed softly and satoru watched with a heavy gaze, “your turn.”

you had expected satoru to say hell with the game and pull you into him, however, you underestimated just how much satoru wanted to know. just how badly he needed to know more. 

“tell me more about your brothers.”

“that’s not a question.”

“can you tell me more about your brothers?”

you glared at the man, “that doesn’t count.” 

satoru scoffed instantly, “yes, it does.” 

you huffed gently, shuffling onto your feet, standing before the man as he looked up at you with eyes so utterly devoted, filled with desire you could barely comprehend. 

in one smooth motion, you tugged at your hair tie by your hip, allowing the plaid pants to pool at your feet, standing completely bare in front of a man who looked hungry. 

“fuckin’ hell, baby…” 

satoru was quick to tug you down onto the carpeted floor, your hair fanning around you in a halo that revealed you as the angel you surely had to be. 

the rain tapped against the window in harsh motions as your chest heaved, satoru hovering above you, breathing uneven as his lips brushed against yours. 

you were so fucking beautiful.

“game over, huh,” satoru’s lips met yours with fervor then, slotting against your own as you moaned into him, back arching as your breasts brushed against his chest. 

his tongue swept across your bottom lip before nibbling gently, causing a low whimper to escape the back of your throat making satoru groan against you. 

you pressed against his chest gently as he conceded, allowing you to catch your breath while he pressed wet kisses down the expanse of your jaw to the sensitive skin beneath your ear. 

“you make me fuckin’ insane, y’know that?” satoru muttered breathlessly as you nodded against him mindlessly making him smirk just a bit at how dumb you’d already gotten, high off of him and him alone. 

fuck, he was only getting started. 

☀︎

the room smelled faintly of rain and the sandalwood candle that was slowly melting beside the bed. 

your heartbeat was still erratic as your head rested against satoru’s chest while his fingers dragged lazily up and down your spine, as if coaxing you back down. 

it was all comfortable, too comfortable. 

this was the part where you’d usually begin coming to your senses and getting dressed, except there was a whole storm outside, meaning you had nowhere to go. 

you stared blankly at the light dancing across the ceiling while satoru played absentmindedly with the ends of your damp hair. 

you felt the rising urge to panic, to flee, to run, but where would you go? 

you were trapped. 

“you okay?” satoru muttered eventually, voice rough with exhaustion as you hummed once, “alright…m’gonna shower before the hot water disappears.”

you merely shifted away from him as he made his way into the bathroom without a word, the sound of the shower starting moments later. 

then silence settled over the room once more. 

when he showered is when you’d usually make your escape. 

you exhaled slowly before sitting up, tugging the blanket tighter around yourself. 

you swung your legs over the side of the bed, yawning gently as you made your way to the fridge by his desk, desperate for something to soothe your hoarse throat from earlier. 

the little fridge hummed softly when you opened it and your eyes immediately landed on it. 

a can of diet cherry coke. 

cold condensation clung to the red aluminum beneath the dim candlelight. 

you stared at it blankly for a moment. then the other one tucked behind it. and another behind that. 

that little shit. 

a laugh almost escaped you then, quiet and disbelieving, a realization settling beneath your ribs. 

he’d fucking played you. just to play a stupid game. 

your fingers brushed against the cold can thoughtfully as the shower continued running in the next room. 

fair fucking play.

☀︎

a/n - such a long time coming omg! this chapter is more world building than plot but more plot will comeee! i lowk shortened it cuz i hate when a chapter feels packed so :( anyways ch5 next weeek

You can’t tell him – what if it got back you snuck away from your stepmother? She’d have you sweeping that damn chimney for the rest of your existence.

Your pulse rushes in your ears, stepping just a little closer, knowing you're probably terrible at pretending to really be nobility, or any sort of lady, feeling the heat of his palm through your satin gloves. "I'm... um, just a guest."

"Every guest has a name," he says, his gaze drifting down to the little chain on your neck curiously, his hand falling off. "Tell me, what brings someone so lovely to hide in the gardens rather than dance?"

"I'm afraid I cannot dance," Satoru blinks curiously, the way the moonlight hits your face and bounces off that silver mask has him almost blushing, the rise and fall of your chest in that snug corset, your own faint blush heating up your skin - out of every girl tonight, you're just...

Different.

"Cannot dance? Nonsense," he smirks and holds out a hand now, tilting his head. "I'll teach you."

"N-no! I'm utterly unteachable... I... oh!" Satoru tugged you in his arms, and you fell against his hard chest, a hand on that elegant blue uniform he's wearing. "Prince Gojo..."

"Call me Satoru."

“Oh I could not ever,” you are panicking being this close to him, his heat, his hard chest so strong as you stumble and damn near trip over your feet. “I’m stepping all over you!”

“It’s fine,” you could literally walk on Satoru and he’d just thank you, with those pretty glass slippers that click gently as you move. He picks you up and grins as you gasp out. “I’ve got you.”

“You cannot just…” he’s lifted you off the ground now so that your feet are on his, moving and guiding you with a little chuckle. “I’ll hurt your feet!”

“Nah, I’m fine,” he’s more than fine – Satoru thinks he’s fucking in love at first sight.

The nonsense of fairytales, but how else does he explain how perfect your corseted waist feels in his arms? How you’re looking at him and making him melt? Satoru’s in love with a girl and he doesn’t even know her name. Perhaps it’s the champagne and how pretty you are, perhaps his advisor Suguru was right and Satoru was a dreamer.

Yet you’re like a dream waltzing rather clumsily on his feet.

He finally manages to speak, to act like any of this is normal, his lips quirking up at the corner. "You're a natural, see?"

"I'm just standing on your feet!” You’re giggling though, the sound and your smile making him ache. He can only wonder how beautiful you were without half of your face covered, even more pretty than those eyes and those lips?

Yet it’s more, something about you drawing him in, he tightens his hold on you, your body pressed to his, clearing his throat as he tries to focus.

Tonight was supposed to be ‘the end’ so to speak – find a boring, perfect debutante for his bride, he had been dreading it for months, yet all he can think of right now is how much he is enjoying being in this garden with you.

"Details."

“No? Actual facts?”

“Semantics, sweetheart,” you laugh again, shaking your head.

“You’re nothing like I’d think a Prince to be.”

“Is that good or bad?” He asks, stopping his movements and easing you off his feet, not releasing you, no, he’s got you firm against him still. The music from the ballroom is fading, just a little hazy in both of your ears, intermingling with his soft chuckle and your little pleased sigh.

“It’s good, very good,” you can’t say it – that you are so wary of nobility because of your step mother, because you’re hidden merely because your mother was a mistress rather than a wife. “You’re just… different.”

“I could say that about you,” his lashes lowered just a bit, hand on the small of your back sliding up where it’s bare, ever so scandalously. "I think we've earned a break from the lesson, yes?”

You manage a little nod, swallowing nervously as Satoru’s silk gloved hand slides from your back to the nape of your neck, his fingers tangling gently in the hair that’s coiffed and pinned. He tilts your head back gently, having you meet his gaze, your own hands sliding to his chest, hidden by the alcove so that you’re just out of sight.

If you’re going to have one night of freedom, shouldn’t it be a good one?

How can you think like this!

"You're blushing again," he murmurs, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin just below your ear. "Even your ears are warm. Is it the dancing, or is it me?"

You can't form a coherent thought, let alone any sort of words for an answer, just looking up at him and wetting your lips nervously, tongue slipping over the plump of your lower one.

“Asked you a question, princess.”

“Oh I’m so far from that,” you whisper, he chuckles as he thinks to himself how your hips would give him perfect heirs, how he’d love those lips to be glossy from his saliva rather than anything else.

“Every girl here wants to be the next princess,” he says, nose brushing yours as he bends down. “Not you, though.”

“Not me…”

Gong. Gong. Gong.

“Oh!” You look at the giant clock ticking overhead, enormous and pristine, loudly echoing in your ears. “It’s almost midnight. I should… go.”

“A curfew?” He asks, even more curious, nobles party until well into the morning, but you’re leaning up now, hugging him around his neck, making him falter.

“Thank you for tonight, Satoru,” god how your name sounds on his lips, pressing a kiss on his cheek and pausing, a breath away from the corner of his mouth. He tilts your chin up, studying you carefully.

“Running away already?”

“I must soon…” You trail off and look right at his lips, sighing. “Perhaps one minute more.”

“May I kiss you, before you disappear?” He asks then, you nod quickly, seeing the lashes casting shadows on his high cheeks as he bends down, closing the distance and capturing your lips.

The first press of his lips is impossibly soft, a tentative movement that he pulls back from quickly, exhaling, the breath ghosting over your mouth, grip tightening as he paints soft kisses against them. You whine out before you can stop yourself, making him moan and pause for just a moment.

“Oh I’ve… never kissed…”

“I’m your first kiss?” He asks softly, you nod and tug him down again, making him chuckle. “Did you like it, princess?”

“I do very much,” he kisses you again, his tongue slipping on the seam of your lips as if it’s seeking entry, tasting of champagne and something sweet – scones, you think, the mixture hypnotic somehow.

Your first kiss is with Prince Gojo.

You both stumble a bit until you fall onto him in the gardens, he lands on his back with a soft thud on the grass. You’re gasping as you lose your balance, Satoru chuckles as he catches you on his body, holding you tightly, lips pulled into a full grin that makes him look even more handsome.

“Hmm, I’d like to see you without this mask.”

“Sir you’re very bold,” he raises a brow, hands on your hips – god imagine kissing you between your thighs, holding them firm?

“Says the lady on my lap.”

“Oh, you’re a tease!” You lean up and his eyes are glittering , leaning up on his elbows and nuzzling your nose with his. “Mngh…”

“The sounds you make,” he whispers, you’re straddling him with your skirts strewn all across you, heat pressing on his length, you probably don’t even know what it is but you grind on it, making him hiss. “Just from a kiss, I wonder how you’d sound if I kissed you here.”

His lips press on the rushing pulse behind your ear, you’re rolling those hips once more, fingers entangled in his silky locks, his breath sending trembles across you, the whine that escapes your lips almost makes him lose it.

“Fuck…”

“Oh dear, I’m so-”

“Don’t move, god,” he moans and grips you rougher than he meant to, arching up as he kisses up the side of your neck, lips drifting over your frantic, racing little pulse, your nails press into his shoulders, holding still as his breath ghosts your collarbone, fingertips brushing across your neckline.

“It feels so good,” you can’t help but move again, making him suck in a breath, kissing you deeper, your arms wrapping his neck as your tongue slips in and out of his mouth, exhaling as you move with him, feeling this need building inside that has you hot, dizzy. “Satoru…”

“Don’t leave,” he whispers, lips glossy from your kisses, sighing and cupping your face gently. “Stay. I’ll tell your chaperones.”

Chaperones.

As if you had those.

“I cannot…”

“We will pause,” he says, barely holding onto his last thread, eyes looking up at the pretty masked girl sitting on his lap, sitting up fully and studying you carefully. “I must know more about you, anything… especially your name-”

Gong Gong Gong.

“I’m so sorry,” you stumble off his lap, questioning yourself then – hearing your stepmother and stepsisters in your head making fun of you.

As if you fit in?

Tonight was an insane idea, one your fellow servants had for you, these glittery slippers and your mother’s old gown weighing heavy as you stand, almost stumbling as your heel digs into the earth. The Prince stands with you, steadying you with a hand on your upper arm, his lips parted.

“There’s nothing interesting about me,” you whisper, tears slipping and glimmering in your eyes.

“I find that impossible to believe.”

You smile, lips trembling, before kissing his cheek, your own lashes closing, sticky droplets of tears falling from them. You murmur your name for his ears, before rushing away, holding onto your dress as you ascend the narrow steps towards the ballroom, hearing him call it out.

“Don’t go! Please, just…” You turn and he can’t see your face then, not with the lighting of the ballroom as your background, casting a shadow of your figure.

“Thank you, my Prince,” you turn once more, Satoru rushes up the stairs then, pausing when he sees a glinting bauble on the step by his dress shoe. He picks it up, studying it carefully, his gaze flickering to where you’ve completely disappeared.

Your name was not familiar, it was not a family he’d ever heard of, a name he’d ever heard either.

Just who were you?

*****

“Hurry, miss, hurry!” Your fellow servants are rushing to undress you from the big gown as your carriage, rickety and loud, has made it just before your step family.

“Turn!” You do just that and let them unlace the back of it in quick little motions, the fellow women studying you once they put back on your maid attire.

“Miss, did you…”

“I um…” You’re blushing now, giggling as if you’re intoxicated from that sip of champagne, nodding.

“You kissed!” You shush one of them, even though the three of you are breathlessly laughing. “Tell us, tell us!”

“He was so handsome, so sweet,” you sigh, all dreamy, looking in the mirror and smoothing your apron down your front, touching your ear then. “Oh dear, I lost one of mama’s earrings!”

“She would have wanted you to have fun,” you get emotional then, as they fix up your hair – they still take care of you when they can, remembering how things were before your father remarried, when you were the lady of the house despite the mother you had not being ‘nobility’.

Your mother – all you have is a little photo of her in a locket.

“Was she kind, mama? Would she…” You swallow just a bit. “Like me?”

“Of course she would, miss,” they turn to you then, trying to cheer you up. “Who kissed the lipstain off.”

You blush furiously, before leaning over to whisper. “A prince.”

“A prince!?”

“Shh!” You hear it then, the hooves of the horses on the cobblestone path, turning your head to peer right back at the noise, the one earring you have left firmly in your palm. “We must act normal… but…”

“But?” You turn to them and your eyes well up with emotions, taking each of their hands.

“It was the best night of my life.”

*****

“This earring,” Satoru smiles days later as he has tea across from several young ladies – four daughters in one family, all matching your height and some of your features. He assesses them carefully, searching for any sign of you – since the name you gave him existed in no public records.

Where was the masked girl with the one earring?

“It’s mine!” One girl exclaims, giggling and standing. “It must be mine, your highness.”

“Ah, I see,” he stands and walks over, peering into her eyes, hoping for anything to click like it did before – it had been dark out, was he mistaking this? Was it really you? “Where’s the matching?”

She falters then, and her sisters are laughing at her. “I um… your highness, as it were… I do not…”

“I see…” He finishes his tea and bows at the giggling ladies, smiling all charming like he’s not losing his mind. “Farewell, for now, dear ladies.”

He’s furious when he slams the carriage door, his advisor Suguru looking up from the ledgers he’s balancing while waiting for the prince. His dark eyes take Satoru in carefully. “You look like shit.”

“Aw thanks, Suguru,” he snorts and Satoru climbs in across from him, earring flipped over and over in his palm. “That’s every woman her height and hair color aside from one house – out of twenty nearly. And nothing.”

“What was it about her?” Suguru asks. “To make you announce you’re looking for a bride and all? It’s so unlike you.”

“I can’t tell you it’s…” Satoru touches his lip thoughtfully, spreading those long legs in the carriage bench, the plush velvet brushing his elegant tailcoat as it begins to rock towards the last stop. “It’s everything about her.”

“Is the prince in love at first sight?” Suguru is teasing, but when he sees Satoru’s glare he pauses. “Oh fuck… it is?”

“I don’t know what else this is, this feeling in my heart,” he clutches it over his dress shirt, staring out the pretty countryside view as they start to move towards the last hope. “I can’t describe it at all, but I must have her, I must know her… I cannot even think of another woman when she exists in this world.”

Suguru is quiet then.

“Who knew the rakish prince would fall so in love so quickly?”

“Shut it,” Suguru’s serious then, pulling up the information on the last house and studying it. “Who are they?”

“A widow and her two step daughters… some servants live there as well, but of course they wouldn’t be the ones you met. Maybe one of them is it?”

“We shall see…”

“Satoru?” He raises a brow. “If you don’t find her, what will you do?”

He laughs a bit, leaning his head back and throwing a forearm over his face, sinking against the seat and descending himself into darkness, picturing you so clearly. Running away from him even in his dreams, like he can never actually capture you.

“I don’t know if I can ever look at someone like that again.”

It’s quiet then.

“Well, I hope you’ll find her.”

*****

“The prince is coming!” Your stepmother rushes up to you and yanks your hair, making you cry out. “Make yourself good, girl! Now! Tea, chop chop!”

“Ouch,” you whine out when she smacks your cheek. “S-sorry…”

“Do not talk back!”

“I was not-”

“She’s become such a nuisance,” one of your sisters complains, donned in an obscenely gaudy pink gown, jeweled slippers that you’d worn that night, you pale when you see them.

“Those were my mother’s! You can’t have them!”

“Those were my mothers!” She’s mocking you, making hot tears prick the back of your eyes. “The prince is coming for me, you’ll let me wear them, you nor your mother was never worthy of such luxury.”

You almost smack her, knowing it’s a death sentence or at least a prison sentence to do so, feeling sick as the three women laugh.

“No, he’s coming for me!” Your other stepsister is wearing bright yellow, donned with the hairclip your mother left. “I couldn’t find those earrings of yours!”

“Why are you in my things when you have everything!?” They laugh again at your pain, your tears, always cruel without reason.

Why did you even go, why did you glimpse happiness when they were your reality?

“He’s here, shh!” Your stepmother and siblings stand in front of you now, blocking the view of the Prince being greeted, his dress shoes clicking on the hardwood beneath him. Your heart hammers in your chest as you stand there with your head down, your family making a spectacle of themselves.

“Your highness! Indeed, what an honor,” your mother is putting on the charm, but Satoru’s eyes are on you, a frown on his lips. “What do we owe the great pleasure of your visit?”

He sees the mark on the pretty servant’s cheek and glares at the woman now, the matriarch of the family scowling at you. “Please forgive us, we will leave her and retire to the-”

“You hit your help?” He asks, fists clenching underneath those white satin gloves, she blinks in confusion.

“Well, of course I do. She is quite-”

“You hit your fucking help, really?”

“Is it against any law, your highness?” She asks, raising a brow, Satoru grimaces in disgust, walking up to you, earning the caught breath of every servant, and the anger of your ‘family’.

“No it’s not, yet the thought of treating others like that disgusts me,” he peers down at you, tilting your chin up right in front of the room, your heart hammers so violently in your chest you feel dizzy. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

Fuck.

Your knees go weak, the sudden sting of your cheek fading into nothing, not when he’s looking at you that way, you can hardly hold in your words – Satoru, it’s me.

You cannot let him know you impersonated a noble, he’s just being… kind, surely. 

“I am fine, your highness,” your voice puts it all together for him then, and in that moment the world shrinks – to just you and Satoru Gojo.

Not just a prince, but the boy you kissed in those gardens.

“Is this yours?” He asks quietly, taking the earring out and watching your expression, hearing their huffs of anger.

“You snuck into the ball!? You little tramp!” Your stepsister shouts, stomping on over when Satoru holds up a hand, halting her in her steps, watching as you tug the other earring out of your little reticule, a trembling hand being touched by his.

“You will be executed for such a travesty!” Your mother says, but Satoru scoffs, simply sliding the hook of the earring through the little spot they were pierced when you were just a little babe. He takes the other but not before studying your hand, covered in callouses, rubbed raw from scrubbing.

“Do not look, please,” you whisper, embarrassed that he has to see them – the nails nonexistent, the skin dry and cracking. He takes off his own glove and sets the other earring on, before he touches your hand, taking it and flipping it over, studying it carefully. “Please…”

“You shall never work these hands like this again,” you gasp at that, letting him take both of them in his own, the touch and warmth of his skin making you dizzy. “I promise you that you won’t…”

He says your name, softly then, smiling all bright as you break out into tears, holding you against him. “Prince Satoru…”

“God I looked all over for you,” he whispers, hand on the small of your back, your clothes are so old they’re falling apart, you seem almost frail to him like this, weak and worn down, not the happy girl he met.

Yet he knows it then, surely.

He did fall in love at first sight.

“What do you think about becoming my princess?”

“I could never! I…”

“Come,” he picks you up like it’s nothing, carrying you right out of there, you cling to his neck as he cradles you and your stepmother rushes up. 

“Surely I will get some compensation!” Your stepmother earns Satoru’s disgust as he looks upon her. “She was my late husband’s illegitimate offspring, I took her in when I did not have to! Fed her, clothed her, gave her shelter.”

“You did a fucking horrible job of all of it, if you ever loved your husband, how could you do this? This is why I hate nobility like you,” he clutches you tightly, feeling your face bury against his neck. “I’ll compensate you plenty to leave my kingdom, all of you, forever. Handsomely in fact. But you’ll never go near her again.”

“Satoru, you don’t have to!” You’re whispering, trembling in fear, but he ignores it all, shaking his head.

“I will make sure you have a nicer home than this, and dowries,” your stepmother quickly agrees, and that’s the last time you see her, or your stepsisters again. “Let us go visit your new home.”

*****

“They called you that, because you sat by the fireplace too much?” Satoru asks you softly weeks later, you all were having dinner but you’ve stayed in your own wing of his castle, he’s making sure that everything is properly done – the wedding a few more weeks away.

“They did,” you admit, holding his hand and blushing as he leans forward, studying it. “It’s still rough, Satoru.”

“That’s quite alright,” he kisses your knuckles then, his lips curving up in a sad smile. “I shall make sure that you never lift a pretty finger.”

“Nonsense!”

“No, you must stop helping clean and cook, too,” you shake your head, earning his smile widening. “Are you not listening to your prince?”

“Old habits die hard, at least let me bake with them! What else shall I do all day long!?”

“You’re a bratty girl,” you giggle, shaking your head and standing, walking over as he tugs you on his lap, sitting sideways, his fingers trailing across your knee, sliding that robe apart. “Very bratty.”

“Me, no indeed,” you are aching to do more, but Satoru has been very gentlemanly – so much in fact you find yourself moving on his lap in such a way that has his lashes fluttering closed. “Are you all right, my prince?”

“You’re killing me, perhaps you’re an evil girl after all,” your smile ruins him, along with the way goosebumps rise up your thigh. “Trying to tempt me before the marriage, hmm? No, no, we do it all properly – you’re my bride to be.”

“I can wait, I suppose,” your fingertips trail across his cheek, laughing softly then at his blush that dances across them. “Can you wait?”

“Indeed I have my methods,” jerking off to you every night after kissing you in front of your bedroom door. “Can you, pretty girl?”

“No,” you’re honest then, gasping as his fingers dart higher, your thighs spreading slightly as if on instinct. “Satoru…”

“Such an impatient girl, tsk,” he glides them higher until they find your cunt bare, already slick underneath the satin of your robes, feeling you shift and cry out in the way only you can. “Shall I have you cum all over my fingers, then? Give you just a taste of what I’ll do to you when you’re fully mine?”

“Oh, mngh y-you… please…” He kisses you as his fingers find your slit, gliding up and down and feeling that wetness just pour, moaning at the feeling, you’re damn near slippery with a gentle touch at your entrance, your tongue moving against his with much more precision than the first kiss.

“Please what, princess? Make you feel good?” Your nod is jerky, your nails pressing into his forearm and feeling it tense as he slides a finger in – making your eyes roll back in your skull. “You’re doing such a good job, look at you.”

“Am I? It’s so thick and… Satoru,” he’s curving one finger just so in your snug little hole, squishing so loud it fills your ears, mixing with his kisses on your collarbone, his nose brushing your skin. “Please!”

“Mhm, take a pretty tit out for me,” he orders softly, in the way only Prince Satoru can, you tug it down and blush when he sees your tit for the first time. “Oh god but you’re s’fuckin beautiful.”

Your answer is to arch your back, your head falling so that your hair cascades across his arm that’s wrapping you, his finger working as that mouth wraps a nipple and sucks. It is too much, the way he sucks, the way his finger moves faster, until you’re about to shatter, to fall apart right for him, his finger hitting that spot that has your vision getting fuzzy.

He moans around your nipple, tongue swirling it – his blue eyes looking up underneath those long white lashes at you, feeling your cunt stretch enough that he eases in a second.

“So full! I’m so… ah!” He pulls back from your nipple, his saliva dripping with strings dissolving from your tit, sighing and nuzzling your breast, kissing back up to your collarbone, his fingers making your cunt quiver. She clamps down as you get closer, feeling that pressure, the grinding of his fingers on that spot.

“You’re close, hmm?” He teases softly, smiling all proud of himself and fucking cute – he was proud he could make you feel good, that he could feel the way you’re reacting, see the pleasure on your face. “You’re so loud, your pussy is making such a mess, too.”

“You’re… I…” You feel it coming, overwhelming in its intensity then, stealing your breath as his fingers work faster, until you’re right there.

“That’s it, let go for me,” he whispers, pressing up on that spongy spot in your wall with his fingertips, massaging it as you shatter. “There you go, good little princess, cumming just for me.”

“Satoru, ngh!” You scream out obscenely, cunt squirting right down his hand and making a mess of his pants, of your silk robe, darkening the material as you fall apart in his arms, weak and almost falling on him. “S’good I… sensitive and… Satoru, I l-love you and…”

He pauses then, exhaling and kissing you deeply, easing his fingers out of the mess you are. “You love me, princess?”

You’re almost in tears. You feel so good, nodding quickly, watching as he sucks his long fingers, blushing furiously – your cunt is pulsing around nothing, seeing his cheeks hollow during the filthy little action. “You’re tasting me!”

“So sweet,” he mumbles, drunk off a lick, pulling back to see his fingers glossy and moaning at the sight, his eyes dark. “I can’t wait to really drink you.”

“Drink me?” He chuckles at how precious you are, tugging down your slip and holding you close, kissing your temple as you come down. “Satoru, that was so intense I just… I…”

“Are you all right? Too much?” He brushes your hair back, feeling your lips on his neck.

“Not enough.”

“Slutty princess,” you gasp and smack him when he chuckles, pulling back and cupping your chin, smiling at you. “I love you too.”

“You love me?”

“Of course I do, the moment I saw you in that garden,” you can’t stop the tears from falling, chest heaving as the aftershocks mix with your emotions. “Now don’t be so impatient, we have forever.”

You nod and kiss him again, and again, and again, until he carries you in his arms towards your bed. “I can’t wait to share the bed with you, my Prince.”

“Soon enough.” He lays you in it and kisses you, studying you carefully, brushing a lock of your hair back.

Satoru was only an eligible bachelor for one day – and now he has his happily ever after lightly snoring in her bed, murmuring his name.

Perhaps being the prince wasn’t so bad if he got you by his side.

It felt wrong to admit to, but you were almost glad that things were definitively over with him. To some extent, you’d just been searching for a reason to end things, aware that you were never really going to feel that passion for him. 

Not when your passion always seemed reserved for someone else. 

You wished you hadn’t had to deal with a load of vile name calling in the process, but you’d blocked his number and what was done, was done. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. He seemed like a mostly good guy,” Yuki said, dragging the varnish brush slowly over her own nails, half focused on the task and half on you. She was the type of girl who liked to make a lot of eye-contact when speaking, and subsequently orange paint was getting all over her skin.  

“Mmm. Want me to do your nails for you?” 

“Nah, you’ll smudge yours. I’ll manage.” She waved you off. “So you’re not speaking with him at all anymore?” 

“No way. We’re done, I really wasn’t sure how into him I was anyway.” 

“I get that. It didn’t look like the chemistry was really there.”

That made sense, considering that you spent the whole reunion speaking to Yuki and Shoko rather than paying Kashimo any attention. Oh, and there was also the fact that you couldn’t take your eyes off Sukuna half the time that you were at the damn gathering. 

Somehow, seeing Kashimo and Sukuna in the same place only made you more certain that you’d never really feel anything for the former. The way that Sukuna stirred your heart with a single look was unlike anything that anyone else had made you feel. Kashimo would certainly never manage it - even the nice version of him that you’d originally known. 

“Yeah, it is what it is.” You shrugged. “Plenty of fish in the sea, I’ll find someone else.” 

You were pretty certain that you wouldn’t have to look very hard to find someone else - in fact, there was one fish in particular that was simply begging to be reeled in, but you’d keep him on the hook for a little longer. No point in making things too easy for him. 

Lately, your reservations about Sukuna had been dwindling. Kashimo had been one of your main excuses, and now that was all out of the way. The other excuse had been Ryu’s ghost haunting you whenever you’d look at the pink-haired man, but with all the time you’d been spending with him lately, you found that the guilt bothered you less and less. 

It had been four years since Ryu’s death, and he’d cheated on you in life. Why should you have to punish yourself forever just because of an unfortunate coincidence? Sukuna had made a very good point that Ryu would’ve likely died whether you’d been faithful or not. 

So why were you denying yourself happiness? 

You’d planned to break up with Ryu back then anyway, had planned to choose Sukuna before all hell broke loose. Now that time had moved on and things were calmer, it felt foolish to let a dead man stand in the way of things. Being with Sukuna was your choice alone, and the way that he’d comforted you outside the reunion had eroded away the last few shreds of doubt that you’d been hanging onto.

Not that you could tell Yuki any of that, because she’d absolutely kill you. 

“Honestly though, I almost thought that Gojo was lying - figured Sukuna had paid him to make Kashimo look bad or something,” Yuki said, “y’know, because he’s a conniving little shit.”

To be honest, you’d initially had some of the same suspicions, but Gojo was far too specific for it all to be lies. Sukuna didn’t know Kashimo well enough to provide Gojo with information about gigs and such - it had to be legitimate. 

“Sukuna definitely had no idea - he seemed so shocked when he found me crying. Besides, Kashimo's reaction over text said it all.”

Yuki’s eyes narrowed, and you cursed yourself for that idle slip of the tongue. As far as she was concerned you’d had very little to do with Sukuna recently. You hadn’t even told her that the two of you worked together. 

“When he found you crying?” She echoed, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “Was that at the reunion? Tell me that you walked away and didn’t bother telling him anything.” 

Shrugging, you stared down at your shiny nails. “We just chatted for a bit, it's not a big deal.” You must not have sold that line as well as you were hoping, based on the way that Yuki was staring at you with utter disbelief. 

“If it's not a big deal, what’re you blushing for?” 

“I’m not.” You lied, feeling suddenly defensive. You weren’t sure if it was better to deny any claims of association with Sukuna, or if you should just turn around and tell Yuki that you were a grown woman who could do what she liked. 

Neither option was all that appealing. 

“You are. If all you did was chat, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind telling me what you were chatting about.” Yuki’s voice was cold, tinged with disappointment. There had been only a few times in your life where you’d been the subject of her ire, and you always hated it. It made you feel smaller than being disciplined by your actual parents. 

Chewing on your lip, you wondered what would placate her most effectively for the time being, without it coming back to bite you in the ass one day. You certainly weren’t going to mention the kiss, nor were you going to share just how much talk of a potential future relationship there had been. 

However, it probably didn’t serve you to omit the fact that Sukuna was working for your dad, and that your friendship had been steadily growing over the last few weeks. If you were to keep that information quiet, it was likely that it would come out down the line and then Yuki would be really mad at you for lying. 

Better to face a little bit of her anger now rather than a lot of it later. 

“He was just comforting me,” you said finally. “He ran into me when I was leaving the bathroom all teary-eyed, and I was frazzled so I told him about what had been happening. He listened and gave some words of reassurance while I calmed down, that’s all.” 

Yuki didn’t look convinced. “Let me guess - did he wrap an arm around you and tell you about how you deserve so much better? Did he tell you about how there are plenty of guys out there willing to give you everything you deserve? Oh, oh, did he tell you that he’d never treat you the way that Kashimo did?”

“No,” you lied easily. 

So what if he said and did all of those things? You had faith that he was being honest about it, and it wasn’t like he had negative intentions for you. He’d been waiting patiently for a chance with you for over four years - that was more dedication than either Ryu or Kashimo had shown. 

He wasn’t the villain that Yuki believed him to be. 

But there was no convincing her of that fact, so it just felt easier to lie. 

“He’s been working for my dad,” you added. “We’ve had a few opportunities to talk since I got back into town. We haven’t discussed the past at all and he’s been nothing but pleasant - I don’t think there’s any need for you to hate on him like you are, he’s just a guy.” 

Yuki was silent for a while, avoiding eye contact. It had you feeling antsy, because she was clearly thinking about what to make of your statement. A deep sigh wracked her body, and she took her time screwing on the lid of her nail polish before looking at you once more. 

“If there’s nothing untoward going on, why are you only now telling me that you’ve been working with him?” 

A valid point, but you tried not to appear flustered by her response. The best course of action here was to make it look like she was blowing things out of proportion and acting ridiculous - which she kind of was. Sukuna’s only crime was sleeping with you while you were in a relationship, and it wasn’t like he coerced you into it - far from it. 

You’d wanted him as much as he’d wanted you. 

“Because I knew you’d freak out like you are right now. You act like he’s the damn antichrist.”

Yuki scoffed. “He manipulated you into cheating on Ryu.” 

“He didn’t, and I’m sick of pretending that he did. I’m capable of making my own bad decisions and that night was one of them. I shouldn’t have cheated, but it wasn’t Sukuna’s fault. I’m the one that was in a relationship, not him.” 

The roll of her eyes told you that Yuki didn’t accept that excuse for even a second. “He waited until you were most vulnerable to prey on you, and I’m pretty sure that you’re smart enough to know it.” 

“No, he-” you started to argue, only to catch yourself. There was no point in squabbling over this - Yuki had made up her mind about Sukuna long ago, and no argument would serve to change her mind. The only thing that would have an impact is seeing Sukuna’s positive treatment of you with her own eyes.

And that was something that she’d potentially have to come to terms with one day. 

“Look, let's just not talk about this, okay? I came over to hang out with you, let's not waste time talking about boys.” 

It was frustrating, because you could really do with talking about the Sukuna situation with someone impartial. You were attracted to him, you’d always known that, but it would be nice to have someone objectively tell you if giving things a go was a good idea. You’d get no objectivity from Yuki, and that made discussing it a waste of time. 

Perhaps you could talk it through with Shoko instead. She’d shown vitriol for Sukuna when in Yuki’s presence, but she wasn’t the type to get amped up about anything really. It was likely that she’d be able to give you a more honest opinion on how you should proceed. 

“You’re right.” There was something in her tone that told you that she didn’t really want to cut the conversation short, only willing to concede for the sake of avoiding any damage to your friendship. It was clear that she was eager to bring you over to her side, unsatisfied at the idea of you defending him or spending time with him in any capacity. 

It was fine for her to feel that way. She just needed to understand that it was your decision to make. Not hers. 

“Before we move on though - please tell me you’re not considering getting with him.” 

Yuki’s expression was pleading, the worried furrow of her brow painfully evident. For the last four years she’d desperately tried to talk down the concept of Sukuna whenever he’d come up in conversation, along with running interference to ensure that the two of you never ran into one another whenever you were in town. 

You imagined that she was seeing four years of hard work unravel before her eyes, and was desperate to cling on to some semblance of it. 

It was likely that you were going to have to apologise to her for your actions in the coming weeks, if you went along with the desires that were currently building within you. But you could cross that bridge once you came to it. 

For now, what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. 

“Me getting with Sukuna?” You asked, waving your hand flippantly. “Oh no, definitely not!” 

—

“Double cheeseburger, that’s mine. Here’s your chicken burger.” Sukuna was rummaging around in a paper bag that he’d picked up from Doug’s, distributing lunch out between the two of you. “Oh, they ran out of the strawberry flavouring so I got you a chocolate milkshake instead, hope that’s okay.” 

“Thanks.” Your fingers brushed his as you took the plastic cup from him, sending a pleasant shiver through your hand. You took a sip before placing the milkshake down on the world’s best dad coaster at your side, focusing your attention back on the ancient computer while Sukuna got started on his meal.

Your father was currently facing an audit, and that meant that you were working overtime to get his records in order. Subsequently, you couldn’t head out for lunch like you usually would, which had led to Sukuna bringing lunch to you instead. He seemed perfectly content sitting across from you in that little trailer, quietly watching you work while he enjoyed his break from manual labour. 

“Can I help?” He asked, after a period of silence, gesturing to the computer.

“Nah. This thing just happens to be the slowest machine in the universe, so organising everything is taking ages. It doesn’t help that my dad doesn’t bother putting anything into folders - there’s documents everywhere.” 

“Mmm. I saw Satoru’s desktop the other day and it was chaos. Icons all over the screen and some random popups and shit.” Sukuna said. 

“This one isn’t that bad. But I am gonna tell my dad to buy a new one - if I’m going to work with the damn thing everyday, I need it to run faster than this.” 

A chime of a text sounded from your bag, and you glanced over at it but didn’t bother to check. It was most likely just Yuki messaging with a plan for the weekend - one of Choso’s siblings was getting married and she wanted you and Shoko to go dress shopping with her in the city. You were considering faking a cold, still on shaky ground with her after your conversation the other day. 

So instead of reading her text and lamenting about it further, you turned your attention to your food, unwrapping the chicken burger and taking a big bite. You had to admit, it was nice to have Sukuna bringing you lunch - you probably wouldn’t have eaten all day otherwise, too focussed on the task at hand. 

“Heard from Kashimo again?” Sukuna asked, nodding his head in the direction of your bag. 

You were almost surprised that he was asking - you’d figured that the second your ex was out of the picture, Sukuna would wipe the name from his mind. After all, you imagined that he saw Kashimo as nothing more than an obstacle that had now been thoroughly removed. 

“No, nothing. Wasn’t expecting to though.” You said with a shrug. 

“No? You didn’t think he’d come crawling back to beg?”

You scoffed in disbelief. “I told you what he said over text, right?” 

Sukuna hummed. “The abridged version, I guess.” 

Your retelling of the story to Sukuna had been a little fragmented, since you’d been so enraged. The evening after the reunion, he’d called you to check that you were okay after your tearful day, only to get a full rant about the texts that Kashimo had sent you after the party. You probably didn’t explain it well, but you were sure he got the gist. 

Either way, you hadn’t really talked about it since then. You had no interest in bringing it up, and you assumed that he saw it as something of a touchy subject. 

“You can read the texts if you want.” You rummaged in your bag, pulling out your pink flip phone, ignoring the message from Yuki and opening up the texts from Kashimo, before handing it over to Sukuna. 

“Cute.” He mused, inspecting the Hello Kitty charm hanging off the side of your cell before turning his attention to the messages. 

“I mean- I can’t believe that I ever thought he was a nice guy. It was all just some dumb act. I really need to thank Gojo for giving me a heads up, because who knows how long it would’ve taken me to see this side of him otherwise. Imagine if I’d moved in with the guy only to find out that he was acting like this behind my back.” 

Sukuna hummed, carefully reading through the messages, his brows furrowed in displeasure. “He called you a whore? When he was the one sleeping with other people?”

“Yeah.” You rolled your eyes. “Called me a lot of other shit too. Guess he didn’t like being rejected.”

“What a jerk. Want me to kill him for you?” 

You stared up at Sukuna, unimpressed by his amused expression.

“Don’t even joke about that.” 

“Sorry, poor taste.” His grin didn’t drop, but you let it go easily. 

You knew that he’d never really been broken up over Ryu’s death - he’d never actually liked the guy. Making morbid jokes didn’t register in his mind in the same way that they did in yours, and the thought of Ryu’s death probably only came up for him when you’d bring it up. 

Besides, it had been four years. When were you going to get less sensitive about it? 

“Seriously though, I could track this guy down and give him a beating - if that’s what you wanted?” Sukuna’s expression was painfully earnest, not unlike a dog waiting for their owner to give them a command. 

Shaking your head, you offered him a soft smile. “He’s really not worth all that. Besides, I don’t want you beating anyone up.”

He shrugged. “Your choice. I would do it though.” 

“Noted.” 

You definitely believed him. Even though you’d never been witness to it, you heard all the rumors about fights he’d been in when you were back in school. He’d even punched Ryu once, before the two of you had started dating - not that Ryu had ever been interested in discussing it, apparently humiliated by his loss. 

Before Sukuna could make further promises of violence towards anyone who caused you strife, the door creaked open and your dad walked in. He was holding a paper cup from the nearby coffee van, but seemed to stop in his tracks at the sight of Sukuna and the food laid out on the table between you. 

“I was coming in to bring you a coffee but it looks like someone beat me to it!” 

To be fair, while Sukuna had bought you lunch, he hadn’t brought you a coffee, and you could really do with the caffeine. “I’d still like it! Thanks dad.” You smiled at him as he walked over, gratefully taking the warm cup from him and putting it down beside your half-drunk milkshake. 

He straightened up, hesitating for a second as he glanced between you and Sukuna. It was obvious that he’d expected to find you alone in the trailer, certainly not having lunch with his most rough-around-the-edges employee. You tried your best to ignore his unease, going back to eating your meal and pretending that your dad wasn’t fidgeting in your periphery. 

You couldn’t decide if his awkwardness was due to a dislike of Sukuna, or if he simply had something that he wanted to tell you in private.

“Are you done with that foundation, kid?” He asked, as Sukuna finished the final bite of his burger.

“‘Course.” 

“Good, good.” 

From what you could tell, Sukuna was an excellent worker, easily one of the most productive employees that your father had. It was likely a result of age - at twenty-two Sukuna was in the prime of his life where physical strength was concerned. The majority of your dad’s men were over twice that age. 

The silence stretched out for a few seconds as your father continued to awkwardly linger. “Everything okay?” You asked, eager for him to spit out whatever was sitting on the tip of his tongue. 

“Yeah, I’d really just dropped by to keep you company, but I guess I didn’t need to…” 

Your brow furrowed at the slight distaste in his tone. You weren’t sure if this was one of those typical overprotective father quirks - you’d never really seen him around guys that you liked before this interaction. He’d never met Ryu, because you’d kept the relationship a secret, and when Kashimo came to visit, he’d seemed largely unbothered. 

Probably because he’d seen how unbothered you were about the man. 

But there was something about his demeanour which felt threatened, or perhaps irritated, by the fact that someone else was here taking up your time. Perhaps it was about that person specifically being Sukuna - you didn’t really know anything about the nature of their working relationship. 

“I should probably get back to work anyway!” Sukuna chirped with a smile, breaking through the awkwardness. 

He tossed the burger packaging into the trash can at the side of the desk and stood up, stretching his arms above his head. He looked a little out of place in the tiny trailer - far too big for the space when drawn up to his full height. 

“We’re still on for tomorrow, right?” Sukuna asked as he drifted in the direction of the door. “For Misery at the drive-in?”

“Yeah, of course.” The way that he smiled back at you made your heart flutter desperately. He’d invited you over the phone a few days ago, and although he hadn’t said it outright, there was no doubt in your mind that he viewed it as a date. 

You’d almost turned him down, almost reminded him of your chat at the reunion in which you’d made it clear that any conversation about the two of you would take place exclusively on your terms. 

But the issue with that was the fact that you did want to go with him. 

You were sick of delaying, sick of having dream after dream of Sukuna’s hands on you, sick of your heart practically jumping out of your chest whenever he’d come by to grab you for lunch. You liked him, you’d always liked him. Knowing that was true, what was the point in wasting more time on silly games? 

The best way to find out if things would work was to try. If you kissed him properly and all you could think of was Ryu’s dead body, then you knew that it would never be possible. But if you kissed him and the horrible, soul-crushing guilt remained absent? Then you could have everything that your soul had been yearning for.

“Perfect, I’ll pick you up at eight.” 

You gave him a nod as he stepped out of the trailer, the door creaking and slamming shut behind him. Turning your attention to your dad, you caught the way that his brow was furrowed ever so slightly, a mix of curiosity and disappointment present on his weathered face. 

“I didn’t realise you guys were so close,” he said, waving his hand in the direction of the door. You supposed that made sense - the last time he’d seen the two of you interact was when Sukuna had been in here with his injured hand, and you’d shown an overall reluctance to even talk to the man. 

You shrugged, before moving to clean up the table a little bit, anything to avoid eye contact. “We’re friends.” 

“You know him well?” 

“Well enough,” you answered. “He’s the only person here even remotely near my age, so he’s kinda the only choice for someone to talk to.” That was a partial lie - because while there really weren’t any other employees in your age bracket, you would still be hanging out with Sukuna even if that wasn't the case. 

“You aren’t dating him, are you?” 

Balking at the straightforwardness of that question, you were quick to shake your head. “No, we’re just friends. God, dad, I only just broke up with Kashimo, what do you think I’m like?” 

He put his hands up defensively, clearly a little embarrassed by your response. “Sorry, sorry. I just had to ask. It's just- with him bringing you lunch, and going to drive-ins, it kinda seemed that way.”

You’d long since learned how to play the guilt game with your parents - you’d used it to hide your relationship with Ryu and get your way in other areas of life for years, so instead of accepting his apology, you pushed your advantage. You didn’t want him asking about Sukuna again anytime soon. 

“Well it isn’t. It's been so hard for me moving back to town, living with my parents again like some kind of failure, all on top of my boyfriend cheating on me. Sukuna is one of the few people who’s actually been a good friend to me. Besides, I’m going to the drive-in with him and several other friends, you don’t need to be so suspicious.” 

“I hear you-” 

“Plus, I’m a grown-up! You don’t get to come in here and dictate anything to me that isn’t work related. I can’t believe that you still don’t trust me to make good decisions, it makes me so upset.” You were sure that the look on your face was sufficiently frustrated, because this exact act had been working on your dad for at least fifteen years at this point

“Sorry, honey,” he said, looking dejected. “I was just being nosey. There’s nothing wrong with being his friend - he’s a good worker. But I was just hoping you weren’t dating a guy like him - you deserve better than spending your life in some shitty little apartment with a guy who can barely make ends meet.”

His tone was soft, disarming. It was clear that he was trying to make amends for upsetting you, inadvertently making you more annoyed in the process, because there was no reason to be so prejudiced against Sukuna for his financial situation or for anything else. He’d always been kind to you, and in your mind that mattered more than having a nice house and a fancy corporate job. 

“I think it's wrong that you speak about your employees like that,” you said. “He can’t make ends meet because you pay him minimum wage.” 

“Look, it's not just the money.”

Of course he glazed over that part. 

“I just don’t want any daughter of mine marrying some guy with face tattoos. It's unsavory - gives off the wrong sort of impression.” 

You could kind of understand the sentiment, but Ryu didn’t have face tattoos and he cheated on you. Kashimo certainly didn’t have face tattoos and he also cheated on you. You were pretty sure that outward appearance did little to dictate a person’s quality.

But your dad was old-fashioned, so that was unlikely to move him, and therefore not an argument worth making - especially not when you were in the process of trying to convince him that you weren’t interested in dating Sukuna. 

So you just held your tongue and rolled your eyes, deciding that you were done having this conversation. Just like with Yuki, if something happened with Sukuna, you could cross that bridge when you came to it, but you wouldn’t be having the argument now. 

“Well then,” you said softly, giving your father a pointed smile, “aren’t you lucky I’m not dating him?” 

—

Sukuna came to pick you up for your date at 8pm. 

You were already waiting outside for him, not eager for him to encounter either of your parents. Even if you were certain that your dad felt sufficiently awkward to not cause any further strife, you didn’t want to take the risk. 

Especially considering that you’d lied and said others were coming - when they clearly weren’t. 

Sukuna had openly looked you up and down as you hopped into his truck, doing little to conceal the desire glimmering in his crimson eyes. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t dressed up specially for him, meticulously planning your outfit to ensure that he took notice of the way it hugged your body. 

“You look pretty,” he purred. “Making me feel underdressed.” 

He was dressed pretty casually, wearing a grey Bullet for my Valentine hoodie and loose fitting black jeans. He looked incredibly good all the same, just as he always seemed to, no matter what he was wearing. Part of you pondered what it would be like to wear that hoodie, fantasising over the idea of him putting it on you if you got cold later in the night. 

It probably smelt great - just like he always did. 

You shrugged. “I just wanted to dress up for once.” The line was innocent, but the way you fluttered your lashes at him was not. He offered you a grin, shaking his head just a little before starting the car, driving you over to the drive-in on the edge of town. 

It was a nice little spot, albeit slowly dying now that so many people had flat screen TVs to rely on and an extensive collection of DVDs all in the comfort of their homes. Either way, you had great memories of swinging by as a kid, McDonalds Happy Meal clutched in your hands as you watched whatever family-friendly movie they were putting on that weekend. 

For some reason it was always your dad that used to take you - your mother would never go. You assumed that she used those precious two hours a week to get some alone time while your dad was watching you, considering that she did the majority of the child related labour. 

As you’d grown older, you’d started going along to the drive-in with friends, watching a number of classic teen movies like Grease and The Breakfast Club. The second that Yuki had gotten a car you’d all piled into it to come to the run-down place, enjoying that taste of freedom that you’d never had before, laughing at the sight of poor teens who were still tethered to their parents. 

You hadn’t been there since Ryu’s death. After that situation you hadn’t felt like doing anything in town, living in a total state of isolation until you went off to university, completely overwhelmed with the idea of how to deal with anything. 

Since you’d come back to town, you felt like you’d almost been reborn. You no longer lived in fear of doing things and going places, and could look at everything with a comfortably nostalgic view rather than one riddled with guilt and anxiety. Perhaps all you’d needed was time. 

To an extent, you wondered if some amount of your calmer mental state was due to Sukuna’s presence. So much of your fear and guilt had been centered around him, and perhaps your avoidance of the man had built those feelings up into a storm disproportionate to reality. 

Spending time with him could almost be seen as exposure therapy - a way of facing that fear and guilt you’d been running from and letting it all go. It was a practice in accepting your faults and choosing your own happiness. 

“So what’s this movie? Misery?” You asked as you parked up. There weren’t a massive amount of cars in the lot, maybe only a dozen others. It was likely that the drive-in wouldn’t keep running for many more years with the lack of patronage. 

“Yeah, based on the Stephen King book, y’know?” Sukuna’s voice was a little muffled as he reached behind him between your two seats, rummaging about in his bag for something. The action brought him in closer proximity to you, and your heart picked up slightly at the light scent of his cologne. “Here, brought you some M&Ms.”

You scrambled to catch the bag of candy as he tossed it over to you. “Oh. I haven’t read any Stephen King.” Somehow that felt like a crime to confess to considering how popular he was with so many people when you were in high school. You’d been assigned to read Salem’s Lot for one of your classes, but had ultimately just asked Shoko to give you a summary. 

Back then you’d been too invested in your fresh relationship with Ryu to focus on anything else, and that included reading. 

“Well, Misery is pretty good. I think you’ll enjoy it.” He leant back in his chair and popped an M&M in his mouth. “We should watch The Shining sometime, that one’s really good.” 

“No way. Too scary.” 

“Aw, if you get scared I can comfort you.” 

“Or we could just not watch the scary movie in the first place.” Horror movies had never really been your thing. You’d only agreed to watch Misery because Sukuna had explained that it was supposed to be more of a psychological thriller, but you knew that wasn’t the case with The Shining.

Sukuna hummed, gazing down at you with an amused glint in his eyes. “Don’t you think it's fun to be a little scared sometimes though? Gets the blood pumping.” 

While that statement might ring true for others, it certainly didn’t resonate with you. 

“I think I’ve had enough real fear to not want to be frightened by movies. I feel like you’re forgetting I saw my boyfriend with his guts all ripped out. I don’t need to watch shit like Scream when I literally had to live it.”

To some extent, the situation with Ryu had been more harrowing than the events in Scream, since they never caught the guy who did it to him. The police had concluded that it was some nasty drug related matter, since Ryu had cocaine on him, but you weren’t so sure. Some nights you wondered if the culprit was still living in your sleepy little town, going about their day like nothing ever happened. 

“Mmm. Point taken. What kind of movies do you like then?” He asked, keen to move the conversation away from Ryu. 

“Romance, I guess?” You weren’t really sure that you had a specific preference outside of disliking horror, but most of what you’d watched lately was romance. “I really like 10 things I hate about you.” 

“Haven’t seen it. You’ll have to show me sometime.” 

You giggled at the thought of Sukuna sitting down and watching a teen romance movie, but nodded anyway - mainly because you liked the idea of being huddled up next to him while watching Heath Ledger and Julia Stiles fall in love on screen. You wanted him to kiss you like the two of them kissed in that paintball field. 

“Sure, sometime.” 

The two of you fell quiet as the movie started, your attention dedicated to the screen in front of you. Sukuna was right to describe it as not really a horror, but he had neglected to point out how chilling a story it was. You felt all the fear of that poor man kept captive against his will by someone so insanely obsessed with him, your heart lurching anytime he failed to obey her ridiculous desires. 

During the scene where his legs were smashed by his captor, you found yourself covering your eyes, keen not to see the mess that she’d make of the poor man. Sukuna took that opportunity to wrap an arm around you, pulling you to his side and holding you there. His hand traced softly over the skin of your upper arm, comforting you. You stayed like that for the rest of the movie, enjoying the feeling of his warm body pressed against yours, his breath soft against the top of your head. 

You let out a breath of relief as the movie finally drew to a close, happy that the poor protagonist managed to escape the clutches of his captor, but deeply saddened by the way that the experience had messed with him mentally. In a way, you could relate - you understood what it felt like to have a traumatic experience colour your future. 

Sukuna didn’t let you go immediately, keeping you close as the credits rolled. Likewise, you made no effort to move away, even as cars started to vacate the lot. 

“What did you think?” He asked. 

“That lady was insane.” 

“I feel like she was just misguided,” Sukuna said with a laugh. “Sure, she needs therapy and stuff, but what she was doing was almost romantic.” 

You sat up then, staring at him in utter disbelief. The woman had held a celebrity author hostage in her house claiming to be his biggest fan, claiming to love him, only to smash up his legs and ensure that he could never be truly free of her. You weren’t quite sure where he was reading romance from that. 

“Wanna elaborate?” You asked, keen to see if Sukuna was just genuinely media illiterate. 

“Obviously not in a good way. I mean more that her drive felt almost romantic - to love someone so much to be driven to such insanity, it must’ve felt intense. I feel almost bad for her y’know? All she really wants is his attention but she can’t have it. It’s sad.” 

You scrunched up your nose. “I guess. But she isn’t entitled to him. She’s a psycho.” 

“Not arguing against that, baby.” 

The pet name didn’t go unnoticed, and you felt a blush crawling up your neck. Sukuna still hadn’t released you, drawing slow circles against your shoulder. It had your heart fluttering desperately, your stomach filled with butterflies. You tried not to focus on it too much, eager not to show just how much of an effect he was having on you. 

Mainly because you liked this game with him, to some extent. Even though you did want him, you were also enjoying having the upper hand, knowing that he was doing everything he could in his power to gain your affection. 

“So, if I hadn’t agreed to this date, would you have gone all Annie Wilkes on me? Kidnapped me and kept me strapped to a bed in your apartment?” You asked jokingly, staring up at him. 

“Nah,” he said with a laugh, “but if I did, I definitely would’ve treated you way better than she treated him. I wouldn’t be breaking your legs, I’d be treating you like a princess. I feel like that’s where she went wrong - she should’ve been softer on him and then he would’ve wanted to stay. It isn’t that hard.” 

You giggled. “I feel like you’re just describing a relationship - captivity aside, obviously. But I don’t think what you're saying would’ve worked for Annie, because he would’ve left and never come back. Which, you know, is good for him but not for her.” 

“I think she was just looking too short term.” Sukuna said with a sigh, giving you a soft squeeze. “She should’ve let him go and given him some time, kept in contact and stuff and maybe things would’ve blossomed. She was too hell bent on that instant gratification and it fucked everything up for her.” 

You hummed, and for a moment the two of you sat in silence, reflecting on the movie. You were certain that Sukuna wasn’t the type of guy to give into obsession like the woman in the movie. Likewise, you were certain that he wasn’t the type of guy who would ever hurt you or restrict your freedoms. 

But his final line felt like it related more directly to what had transpired between the two of you over the last few years. 

“Is that how you feel about us? About what happened four years ago?” 

He tilted his head in question, peering down at you. You couldn’t help the way that your stomach flipped under the scrutiny of those crimson irises, still a little nervous under his gaze, just like you’d always been. 

“What do you mean?” 

“That we were too fixated on instant gratification and it fucked everything up?” 

He barked out a laugh. “I wasn’t insinuating anything by it, but now that you mention it, yeah, I guess that applies to us.” Softly, he reached out to you, his fingers brushing along the length of your jaw. You bit down on your lip slightly, drawing in a breath. “Fortunately, nothing between us is as dire as broken legs or captivity, so I think we can recover.” 

You blinked as he leant in closer to you, lips slightly parted. His breath fanned over your face as he searched your eyes, clearly trying to get a read on you. Your mind was going haywire, your body freezing in place beneath his touch. 

“At least, if that’s what you want? I don’t wanna jump the gun and spend four more years on your avoidance list.” 

You snorted, eyelashes fluttering as you peered back at him. Your voice came out as a whisper, and barely audibly you said, “It is what I want.” 

He wasted no time after that admission, pulling you in close and crashing his lips into yours, stealing the breath from your lungs. His lips felt surprisingly soft, almost tender against yours. There was none of the roughness that you’d felt the first time the two of you had slept together, instead it was pure, unbridled passion. 

His tongue traced your lips carefully, requesting entry that you gave him easily. Your fingers found their way into the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him closer to you. The centre console between the two of you was an annoyance, creating a space that neither of you wanted. Sukuna was quick to resolve the issue, breaking the kiss for just a moment to drag you into his lap. 

His lips were back on yours immediately, like he was making up for lost time, desperate for you like a man in the desert searching for water. It wasn’t like you were much better, overwhelmed by the feeling of him pressed against you, dizzy with how hard he was kissing you. You hadn’t been kissed like that in a long time. 

Not since Sukuna had you in that bathroom all those years ago. 

It was a while before you parted for air, your forehead pressed against his, both of you breathing heavily. It was nice and warm in his lap, with one of his hands curled around your waist, the other caressing the skin of your thigh where your dress had ridden up a little. You could feel the evidence of his arousal through his jeans. 

Although, that evidence felt unnecessary, as the longing in his expression said it all. He was looking at you like you’d single-handedly placed all the stars in the night sky - like you were something truly worthy of his unwavering reverence. 

He was looking at you like he couldn’t quite believe how lucky he was. 

And it made your heart race, because despite your two relationships, despite all your forays into one night stands during your first year at university, no one had ever looked at you like Sukuna was now, with an affection so overwhelming that you weren’t quite sure what to make of it.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured, planting a few kisses on your face, his fingers rubbing circles into your skin. 

“I have some idea,” you said with a giggle, reflecting on the many nights that you’d spent fantasising about him over the past four years. 

“No,” he said sternly. “You really don’t.” The way that he looked at you told you that there was more desperation from his side than there was from yours, and you decided that you might as well take his word for it. Your mother had always said that it was ideal to find a man who was even more into you than you were into him. 

Your breath hitched as he slid his hand higher up your thigh, a pulse of desire going straight to your core at the idea of stripping off right here in his car. You could fuck in the front seat, let him fill you up as you sat so nicely on his lap. 

However, your last sexual experience with Sukuna had been in some impromptu awkward location, and you’d promised yourself that if you were ever going to do it again, you’d do things properly - in a place where you could take your time, free from any prying eyes. The front seat of his car certainly didn’t fit the bill - especially not with a few other cars still dotted about the lot. 

It was almost as if Sukuna read your mind. 

“So, do you want me to drop you home, or…” 

The statement hung heavy in the air and he grinned at you, intentionally trailing off and letting you fill in the gaps. He wanted you back at his apartment, wanted you to keep doing this with him and more. There was a reasonable part of you that thought you should turn him down - this was a first date, just a test, you should go on a few more before making any rash decisions. Not to mention, you’d barely broken up with Kashimo two weeks ago.

And yet, you found yourself completely unmoved by any logical argument that you presented to yourself. You wanted to go to Sukuna’s place, wanted him to touch you even more than he currently was.

It wasn’t like this was some first date with a guy you barely knew - you’d known him for seven or eight years now, knew him well enough to be sure that this was what you wanted. So why should you waste any time? 

You went on this date with him because you were ready to admit that you wanted him. Why bother with hesitation now? Besides, it wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t had sex before - now that you weren’t in a relationship, there was absolutely nothing stopping you from doing it again. 

Sometimes it’s best to throw caution to the wind. 

“Let’s go back to your place.” 

—

Sukuna lived on the east side of town in a relatively run-down area. It was the type of place that your parents had always warned you against visiting throughout your teenage years, mainly because it was known to be a hotbed for drug-related activity, and they didn’t want you caught up in such affairs. 

You felt safe enough with Sukuna at your side. He’d lived in the area his whole life, and was more than intimidating enough to scare off anyone who might have unsavory intent. You wished that your dad paid him better so that he could move to a nicer place somewhere else though - it wasn’t a good neighbourhood to be in. 

He pulled up outside his building, shutting off his truck and turning his attention to you. There was a desperately giddy look in his eyes, one that had you feeling more than a little flattered because you couldn’t quite comprehend the fact that he was so excited to be doing this.

Wasting no time, he led you inside, his hand tangled with yours, pulling you along up the stairs and into his home. It was a surprisingly neat little space, one that Sukuna had clearly taken good care of despite its sub-optimal location. You’d half feared that he’d have one of those average male living-space type apartments, with no furniture except a camping chair, a TV and a floor mattress. 

On the contrary, it was decorated nicely, with hints of his personality shining through in the furniture and other carefully selected decor. He released your hand for a moment to turn on some lamps, illuminating the room. A little side-tracked by your new environment, Sukuna hovered semi-impatiently as you thoroughly assessed the place. 

You felt like Sukuna was someone that you knew relatively well, but that didn’t decrease your interest in snooping - there was a lot to be learned about someone based on the way that they had their living space set up. The main thing that drew your attention was how many bookcases he had lining the walls, filled to the brim with a mix of books and DVDs. 

The fact that he was an avid reader didn’t really come as a surprise to you, since he always seemed knowledgeable whenever literature came up, but you were surprised by how many beautiful versions of books that he had, with so many of them clearly being collector’s editions. They must’ve been a priority to him, considering his fairly limited cashflow. 

Scanning the titles, it seemed like most of the books were horrors or thrillers, with a few sci-fi novels mixed in. That fit in with your general assessment of Sukuna’s likes - you couldn’t really imagine him reading some flowery romance or epic fantasy, he’d always seemed much more interested in the gritty stuff. 

“Nice collection.” 

“Thanks,” he responded, lip quirking upwards ever so slightly. If this were any other day or time, you were certain that he’d take his time talking you through the books that he owned, telling you all about them, no doubt recommending you some, just like he had when you’d been discussing Stephen King earlier that evening. 

Right now though, there was obviously something more pressing on his mind.

A slightly devious scheme that popped into your head was to play with him for a little while before giving him what he wanted - you figured that you could drag out the conversation about books or some other feature of his decor, really test his patience to the limit to see how long it would take him to snap. You doubted he wanted to wait long now that he was right on the precipice. 

But he was so impatient that he didn’t even give you a chance to put your plan into action, because one moment you were considering the best question to ask about Bram Stoker’s Dracula, and the next he was grabbing you and smashing his lips into yours once more. You gasped against him and he took that opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, picking up right where you’d left off in the car. 

Refusing to break the kiss, he walked you over to the couch, pulling you onto his lap as he sat down. The two of you made out for a little while, his hands roaming over your body, running tenderly along the skin of your thigh, beginning to play with the edge of the fabric, pushing it up your legs ever so slightly. 

It was then that you pulled away, a sly grin on your lips, still eager to tease him in some capacity. “Woah, straight to it with no conversation first?” You asked, with a cutesy tilt of your head. 

His face was a picture of disbelief and frustration, biting down on his lip softly as he stared up at you. The need in his crimson eyes was palpable, but he showed you restraint all the same. 

“What exactly would you like to talk about, baby?” He asked, in a clipped tone. 

He was painfully hard beneath you, and his fingers were digging into your thighs. You would’ve liked to have kept your act going a little longer, delay his gratification for at least ten minutes or so to really test his patience, but the desperation on his face was so cute that you couldn’t help but giggle at his question.

Besides, your own desire was bubbling in your gut, and you weren’t sure how much idle conversation you could hold without it turning into torture for you rather than him. 

“I’m just fucking with you,” you whispered with an airy laugh, leaning in to kiss him once more. He gave in for a second before pulling back, a devious glint in his eye. 

“Yeah? Think it’s funny to make me wait longer? Have your fun baby, I’ll put you in your place in due time.” You squealed with delight as he manhandled you down onto the couch, pinning you beneath his weight. His body felt warm on top of yours, skin tingling in his grip. It was the way you’d felt all those years ago, the first time he’d touched you. 

How could you have allowed your guilt to part you from this feeling for so long? 

Soft whines escaped your lips as he kissed down your neck, leaving a hot, wet trail of bites that he sucked so lovingly into your skin. You knew that he had a thing for leaving a mark - he’d done it all those years ago too, sucking a purple hickey onto your shoulder, claiming you as his own despite the fact that you’d belonged to another man. 

This time, there was no reason for you to stop him. There was no Ryu, no Kashimo, nothing to stand in the way of you letting Sukuna have exactly what he wanted. There was nothing standing in the way of you getting what you wanted. Because you did want it, you had for years. 

All of those nights picturing Sukuna on top of you like this weren’t some sort of mistake, they betrayed your deepest desires. Had Sukuna spent the last four years experiencing the same thing? Spending long nights imagining you beneath him, squirming in his grip? 

Perhaps he’d been imagining it for even longer than that. 

Either way, it felt foolish that you’d likely spent hundreds of nights in separate locations imagining being with the other. You and your foolish guilt towards a man who had shown you little to no respect. You should’ve never let Ryu come between you and Sukuna, should’ve never run after that terrifying night. 

If you’d simply had the courage to face Sukuna back then, maybe you wouldn’t have lost four years to your self-imposed suffering. 

A shiver ran through you at the feeling of Sukuna sliding the straps of your dress carefully down your arms. It wasn’t like he’d never seen you naked before, but you’d both been drunk that night in the bathroom. It felt different to be all exposed before him like this, completely sober, your nipples perky from all the attention he’d been giving you. 

Swallowing nervously, you watched him drag his gaze over your torso, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Aren’t you just an angel? Even prettier than I remembered.” The praise had your cheeks warm, your mind searching for the last time a compliment had been given to you so freely when having sex. 

It was probably the last time Sukuna had been with you. Ryu had never done anything to make you feel special, and Kashimo had largely kept quiet the handful of times you had been together. With Sukuna, the words seemed to come easily, like praising you was the most natural thing in the world for him. 

Throwing your head back, your fingers sunk into Sukuna’s biceps as he made his way down to your breasts, lips brushing against the sensitive skin until his mouth reached one of your nipples. His tongue was warm as it flicked against that hardened bud, teasing you for a few moments before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. 

The feeling went straight to your core, and you writhed beneath him in pleasure. One of his hands moved to your other breast, his thumb toying with the nipple, leaving you overwhelmed with the dual sensation. “Fuck, Sukuna-” 

“Feel good?” He asked, pulling back with a pop. He looked beautiful, looking up at you in the way that he was. You couldn’t understand why someone as handsome as him had been so deadset on your affection - four years was a long time to wait for anyone, and yet here he was, gazing up at you as if you were worth everything. 

“Really good.” 

He huffed, shimmying your dress further down your body, leaving a trail of kisses in its wake. “All your resistance, for what? Could've been making you feel good for years, dumbass.” 

You made an attempt to bite back, to point out that it hadn’t been quite that simple, because how were you meant to understand what the right path was after seeing your boyfriend murdered in cold blood? 

How could you have known that the man you’d been unfaithful with was the right person to seek comfort in after everything? 

It wasn’t like there was a handbook for that. 

Sukuna didn’t give you enough time to formulate that into words before his hands reached the top of your panties, sliding his fingers beneath them with little hesitation. You jolted ever so slightly at the sensation of his warmth against your sensitive skin, flushing at the way he grinned as his fingers discovered the slick between your thighs. 

“And here I thought I was the desperate one.” 

“Shut up,” you mumbled. It was clear that he paid you no mind, suddenly attentive, as if he’d just had an epiphany. 

“Do you always wear these?” He asked, his hand pulling back and moving to trail along the pink, lacy panties you were wearing. They were the nicest pair that you had, and they weren’t particularly comfortable. Generally, you wouldn’t wear that at all, apart from for something like this. 

Sukuna cottoned on too quickly for your liking, practically beaming down at you. 

“Don’t tell me, you’d planned for us to do this tonight? Here I was, thinking that you were playing things all innocent, that you were genuine when you told me that this was just a test-run of a date.” His fingers toyed with the fabric a little more, watching your reaction carefully. “I guess you were just teasing me, huh? You always knew you were gonna come back here.” 

You shrugged as nonchalantly as you could. “I wasn’t sure, I just figured it was better to be safe than sorry on the outfit front.” 

“Mmm, sure.” It was clear that he didn’t believe you for even a moment. “These are so cute, I almost don’t wanna take them off you.” 

His fingers had moved slowly to your clit, rubbing softly over the top of the fabric. You wished that he'd go back to what he was doing before, eager to remove the thin layer of fabric separating you. 

“Gonna have to take them off though,” he continued, “I want full access when you sit on my face.” Your heart stuttered for a second at his words, not quite sure that you’d heard him correctly. 

“What?” You asked, dumbly.

“I want you to sit on my face,” he repeated, easily, as if it were obvious. You blinked at him, a little taken aback by the request. That wasn’t something you’d done before - Ryu hadn’t been all that interested in giving oral sex if he could avoid it, and everything you’d done with Kashimo had sat firmly on the tame side of things. 

“That’s- I- I think I’d be too embarrassed,” you choked out, cheeks flushing red. It was one thing to have sex with him - you were even comfortable with him giving you oral, but to do it in a manner like that felt insanely vulnerable, especially to do with a man that you hadn’t slept with in four years. 

He didn’t seem deterred by your statement, his face still lit up with that giddy, elated expression which had barely faltered since you’d kissed in his truck. “You know, if you’re gonna be with me, we’re gonna do far more embarrassing things together than just that.” 

Heart fluttering at the implication, you let your mind wander to what those things might be. Sukuna had always been the type of person who gave off the impression that he knew what he was doing when it came to sex - his penchant for one night stands had been the reason you’d never believed that he’d really wanted you before you’d gotten together with Ryu.

You were pretty certain that he had an expansive list of favoured kinks, and the idea of him trying them out with you made you shiver. It wasn’t like you’d ever ventured far out of vanilla with past partners, but Sukuna seemed like he’d be unsatisfied with basic sex alone.

“Come on, baby. Wanna see you up close.” The lust in his tone had your thighs quivering, and despite the embarrassment of it all, you offered him a little nod. You wanted him to make you feel good, wanted to feel that tongue piercing of his pressed up against you. 

You watched him lay back on the sofa, discarding his shirt and gesturing you over to him. His body was still as well-sculpted as you remembered, with sharp black lines cascading down his clearly-defined abs. He was the type of guy that you’d expect to see in a magazine, not working on some dingy construction site. 

Trailing your eyes down his form, you couldn’t tear your gaze away from the pink happy trail rising from his jeans, following it down to the prominent bulge practically begging to be freed from his trousers. Tentatively, your hand reached for it, squeezing gently through the cloth, pulling a restrained moan from Sukuna’s mouth. 

His reaction gave you an unprecedented surge of confidence. 

“If I’m going to sit on your face, perhaps we can kill two birds with one stone.” Your smile was sultry as you addressed him, wetting your lips slowly and giving him yet another squeeze to ensure that he caught your meaning. You’d expected him to jump at the idea, thrilled at the thought of you taking him in your mouth while he ate you out. 

Instead, his hand darted out and gripped your wrist, pulling your hand away from his still covered cock. You tilted your head in question, eyes wide with surprise at just how tightly he was gripping you. “No. I won’t last. If I’m gonna cum I want to do it inside you.” 

Most guys would feel embarrassed to admit to such a thing, but evidently not Sukuna. He didn’t care that you were aware of just how intense his desire was for you, on the contrary, he wanted you to know. You had to admit that it was flattering, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to control himself if you started touching him. 

You weren’t used to being in a situation where a guy wanted to focus on your pleasure first, before even thinking about chasing his own. Although, going by the enthusiasm in Sukuna’s eyes as you slowly got yourself into position above him, it seemed like he was deriving great pleasure simply from serving you. 

His hands ran slowly along your thighs, caressing your skin and tugging you down to sit upon his face. You felt a little nervous, shivering at the sensation of his hot breath against your exposed pussy. You weren’t sure what to do with yourself, having never been in this position before, uncertain on what to do with your hands as Sukuna licked a broad stripe up your slick folds. 

“Oh!” You let out a little squeak, legs trembling. Your hands flew to his hair, finding solace in the pink strands, no doubt tugging on his scalp as he set to work lavishing you with attention. You’d been eaten out before, Sukuna had done it to you all those years ago, kneeling between your thighs while you leant up against the sink. But this felt different - more intimate and special than it had before. 

The mix of embarrassment at being so vulnerable and the intensity of Sukuna’s optimal position had you fidgeting desperately, your body jolting ever so slightly at every pass of his wide tongue, leaving no part of you untouched. One of his hands released its grip on your thigh to move to your clit, rubbing that sensitive bundle of nerves in tandem with his tongue’s careful ministrations. 

The way that he flicked his tongue so precisely told you that he knew exactly what he was doing, understood how to touch you to elicit the strongest reaction. More slick was dripping from you, lapped up enthusiastically by his mouth, and you found yourself whining desperately at the sensation of that round piercing skimming your folds, contrasting against the soft texture of his tongue. 

“So sweet.” He murmured against your pussy, the vibration sending a pleasurable jolt right up your spine. You could feel the pressure building in your gut as he continued to lap at you, giving you no respite, feasting like a man starved. How long had he been waiting for this? Did he look at pictures of you when he was alone at night and imagine you sitting on him like this? 

If it was possible, the thought turned you on more than you already were. 

You could feel yourself growing close, the fuzzy feeling in your stomach growing to near unbearable levels, your vision growing a little blurry as you chanced a look down at him. The sight took your breath away - his eyes were heavy-lidded, watching you unfold on top of him while his tongue continued its onslaught, a heavenly expression on his face. 

You found yourself choking out his name, a little overcome by the evidence of his desire. 

It had you coming unexpectedly, letting out a soft little moan as you released on his face, causing a surge of embarrassment and pleasure to meld together in one overwhelming ball of sensation. Ultimately, the pleasure won out, because unconsciously you found yourself grinding down against his face, moving your hips with a desperate vigor to chase more of what he was giving you. 

If it was suffocating to him, he did nothing to try and stop you. Instead, he seemed to revel in your active participation, the movement of his tongue never faltering, letting you ride out your orgasm to completion. You couldn’t quite believe how eager he was, memories of Ryu’s general disinterest with eating you out flashing through your mind. Sukuna didn’t have to be asked to provide you with pleasure - he wanted to provide it. 

When he finally released you, bruises left in his wake from his grip on your thighs, your head was spinning. A sheen of sweat had summoned itself on your forehead, your pussy tingling from the overstimulation. You couldn’t find it in yourself to move on your own, your legs acting like they were made of jelly. 

It didn’t matter, because Sukuna was more than happy to lift you, depositing you down onto his couch for a second. He shot you an impish grin as he stood up, undoing his belt and shedding his jeans. “Still with me, baby?” He asked, taking note of your dazed expression. 

You were pretty sure you nodded, but you were too preoccupied to give him a proper answer, all of your attention focused on his hands, which were slowly dragging his boxers down his muscular thighs. 

The first time you’d done this, you hadn’t really gotten a good look at him - between the alcohol and the fact that he had you positioned facing the mirror, you’d only had the chance to feel his size rather than witness it. Now that you were staring at him, you found yourself swallowing nervously at the sight, wondering just how you’d taken that before. 

“Aw, don’t look so worried, baby,” he purred. His hand was stroking the shaft idly, red eyes heavy-lidded as he fixed them on you. “I’ll let you have it nice and slow. Nothing but the best for my princess.” 

No words came to your mind, you found yourself staring at him dumbly, lips parted as he settled down on the couch beside you, his thighs spread. He was watching you with a smile, patting his leg invitingly, encouraging you over. 

“Come here.” 

On shaky legs, you shuffled yourself over, letting Sukuna’s hands grip your hips and help lift you back into his lap. A soft whine fell from your lips at the feeling of his cock pressing up against you. He let out a low laugh at the way that you instinctively ground yourself against him, your body needy even after everything he’d already given you. 

“Aren’t you just the sweetest thing?” He hummed, watching your movements carefully. “You really want it, huh?” Gripping his cock, he responded to your movements in kind, rubbing the tip up against your entrance, smearing the pre-cum through your folds. 

“A-ah, condom.” You just about managed to regain clarity of mind to remember that little detail. Even though you were on birth control pills, you were intelligent enough to know that it wasn’t wise to fuck anyone without one if they hadn’t been tested for STDs and the like. 

Even if it was Sukuna. 

The flicker of irritation in his eyes was gone as soon as it appeared, replaced by a more pleasant look of total innocence. “I don’t have one,” he said easily. “I can just get you the morning after pill if you’re worried.” 

You shook your head. “I take contraception, it's more about- umm…”

“I haven’t fucked anoyone since I was with you.” 

You blinked at him a few times, struggling to comprehend that statement and instantly wondering if he was lying to you. The claim seemed unlikely, considering how much he got around before he’d slept with you for the first time, but his expression was unexpectedly earnest. 

And he’d been nothing but honest with you up to now. 

“In four years?”

“You’re the only one I want.” He was chewing on his lip, waiting to see how you’d react - if you’d believe him. The two of you hadn’t used a condom last time, you’d been so frazzled by everything going on that it had completely slipped your mind - if he really hadn’t been with anyone since then, it didn’t matter if you used one now. 

“You’re not just saying that so you can still fuck me tonight, are you?” 

“Come on, baby. Can’t you see how devoted I am to you?” He started pressing soft kisses along your neck, peppering the bruises he’d already left on your skin. “After I’d had you for the first time, there was no way I was ever gonna touch another woman again.” 

You weren’t sure what to make of that, once again caught off guard by how strong his affection for you was. You hadn’t assumed that he’d put his sex life on hold in the hopes that you’d one day come back, but now all of his neediness made sense. Not being touched for four years must’ve been tough for a guy like him. 

Who were you to keep him waiting any longer? 

Sliding your hand down between the two of you, your fingers found his cock, feeling it twitch in your grip. He relaxed a little, clearly relieved that you were proceeding, eagerly watching you line up the tip with your pussy. His hands came to settle on your hips once more, gently guiding you as you eased yourself down onto his cock. 

Containing a whimper, your nails dug hard into his shoulders. He felt bigger than you remembered, your body no longer assisted by the effects of alcohol to numb the pain like the first time you’d done this. “That’s it, good girl,” he murmured, bringing one hand up to your hair in a gentle caress. 

Leaning forward, he kissed you some more, his lips moving along your neck, up to your chin and finally capturing your lips, distracting you from the intensity of the stretch as he bottomed out within you. 

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, losing yourself in the feeling of his lips on yours, the soft feeling of his chest pressed tight against your breasts. The pain slowly began to give way to pleasure, turning into a delightful feeling of closeness with the man you’d been more desperate for than you liked to admit. 

You were the one to move your hips first, lifting yourself experimentally, finding joy in the way that his cock dragged against your walls, before dropping yourself down once more with a soft whine against his lips. He took that as a sign of your comfort, repositioning his hands on your hips 

Considering the position, you’d assumed that you’d be doing most of the work. You’d thought that Sukuna had chosen it intentionally, eager to make you please him after all the pleasure he’d gifted you with his tongue. But instead of sitting back and watching you ride him, he made it clear that he was still very much in control of the situation. 

His grip on you was firm, taking care of moving you up and down his shaft like you weighed nothing to him. All you had to do was hang onto his shoulders. Pulling away from his lips, overwhelmed by the new, intense feeling of him thrusting into you, you buried your face into the crook of his neck, whining each time he brought his hips up to meet yours. 

The feeling was heavenly, better than anything you’d experienced before. It felt like you were moulded just for this, made for him to fit inside you so snugly, like you were always meant to be together. 

“Fuck, been waiting so long for this-” The way that he groaned was insanely sexy, filling you with a sense of pride. Based on gossip that you’d heard before doing anything with Sukuna, girls he’d been with had claimed that he was quiet during sex, that he opted for positions where he wouldn’t be looking at their faces. 

And yet here he was, all vocal for you, gazing at you with round eyes. 

It was definitely an ego boost. 

“You’re so hot, I wanna have you like this all the time, shit- I’m not gonna last long.” 

A mewl of agreement escaped you. You were already so sensitive from him eating you out, your pussy squeezing needily around him with each stroke of his thick cock. You were pretty sure that you’d never cum this fast in your life, not without external stimulation at least. And yet, Sukuna’s cock felt good enough to get you there all on its own.

“Please, Sukuna-” you whined against his shoulder, sinking your teeth into his skin at one particularly deep thrust, keeping yourself from wailing out his name. You couldn’t think of anything but how good he felt buried inside you, desperate to do this over and over again. 

But Sukuna was reaching his limit, and your little love bite was what tipped him over the edge. 

Your name left his lips in a soft groan, his grip on your hips tightening as he filled you up. The last time you’d done this, you’d asked him to pull out, but no such thought had crossed your mind this time around. The sensation of warmth flooding inside you all while he kept up his rhythm was too much for you. 

“Cum for me, pretty girl,” he rasped against your ear. One of his hands shifted down from your hip and pressed softly against your clit, the feather light touch sending you right to your peak along with him. Your vision turned white as your orgasm washed over you, your thighs tensing against his, milking his cock for all it was worth. 

Riding out your high, you slowly came to still on top of him, gaping for breath against his shoulder. He recovered faster than you did - one of his hands was already steadily tracing your back, the other stroking your hair comfortingly. He was softening ever so slightly inside of you, but you weren’t eager to pull away just yet. 

The intimacy of being connected like you were just felt too pleasant. 

Sukuna seemed to feel the same, making no effort to rush any further movement, enjoying the sound of the two of you breathing softly, clinging tightly to the other. You’d never felt so safe in someone's arms after making love, had never wanted to stay tangled up like this. Sukuna was special - he always had been, you’d just been too scared to admit it. 

You’d wanted him to hold you four years ago, and unfortunate events had dictated otherwise. This time, you’d let nothing tear you apart. 

“Doing okay?” He asked, brushing hair out of your face and tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. 

“Mmm, just a little tired.” You felt downright exhausted, and even though you knew that you should probably go home to prevent any suspicion coming from your father’s direction, the last thing you wanted was to be parted from Sukuna’s comforting grip. 

“Let's get you to bed then.” 

He didn’t wait for your answer before standing up, keeping you wrapped around him as he walked over to what you assumed was the bedroom, pushing the door open and depositing you gently on the bed. It was only then that he pulled out of your warmth, dragging a soft whimper from you at the cold emptiness he left behind. 

You remembered zoning out for a while after that, while Sukuna went through the process of tenderly cleaning you up with a warm cloth before bundling you up beneath the duvet on his comfortable bed. He went to the bathroom for a while to get himself cleaned up before joining you, huddling his body up close against yours. 

“Are you gonna avoid me for another four years now?” He asked quietly, a teasing lilt to his voice. Even if it was a joke, you were almost certain that there was some level of fear hiding within him that had prompted him to ask the question. You didn’t know how he’d react if he woke up in the morning to find your side of the bed cold and empty. 

“No, not after that.” 

“Oh, so you would’ve done it if the sex was bad?” 

“Maybe.” You let out a giggle, gazing up at him with amusement. 

He rolled his eyes but there was no malice behind it, a lazy grin lighting up his tattooed face. “I guess I’ll have to make sure I always please you then.” 

“I guess so!” You chirped, as if Sukuna was capable of anything less than that. It was apparent that you were not seeing him at the top of his game right now with how needy he was for release, and you could only imagine the type of things he would do once you were having sex all the time. 

He huffed humorously against your ear, tightening his grip on you. He had one arm resting beneath your head while the other snaked firmly around your waist, pulling your face into his chest. It was hard to think about anything but him with the way that his scent was overpowering your nose. 

You could get used to being pressed up against him like that. 

Things just felt right with you there, snuggled up in his arms. His body felt so warm against yours, curled around you in a deeply protective grip, like he was ready to fend off the world to keep you there at his side. You were relatively certain that he’d have to do no such thing, but you liked the sentiment regardless. 

You’d been wrong in your judgement, in your decision to wallow in guilt after Ryu’s death. You hadn’t felt this happy in years, since long before you were ever even with Ryu. Sukuna was the person you were meant to be with, this was exactly where you’d been destined to be. 

Everything that had happened, it had all been for a reason. All the horrible things that you’d gone through had been the world’s way of helping you along to this moment, leading you into the arms of the person you were meant to be with. 

And as you drifted off in the arms of the man who had loved you for years, you felt like you’d found a place of peace, a place where you’d be safe from the horrors that you’d encountered throughout your life. 

You’d drifted off too quickly, too soundly, to see the glint of victory in Sukuna’s eyes, to feel the way that his nails dug so possessively into your delicate skin. For now, he had what he’d always wanted - his object of affection tangled up so intimately with him. 

All he needed to do was ensure that he kept you there. 

And he wouldn’t be taking any chances. 

a/n: isn't he so fine!? I'm sure he'll be a totally normal boyfriend!! there's no way that he'd immediately start crossing boundries and acting insanely possessive haha!!

(we'll be going back to sukuna's pov for the next chapter where he will immediately start crossing boundries and acting possessive 😭)

hope you enjoyed the chapter and thank you for the support! comments and reblogs are appreciated as always! <3

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