“that’s it,” he smirks, as you drop your head against his chest, grabbing onto his wrist, desperately trying to close your legs as he effortlessly draws another orgasm out of you. “that’s it ... ya look fuckin’ cute when you’re cumming.”

he laughs when you try to look up at him and scowl, eyes fluttering and rolling back into your head when he uses the hand that’s not busy fucking your pussy to land a slap on your clit. 

you moan again, and he laughs. “see? atta girl, so pretty when you cum. tellin’ me nobody’s ever seen you like this?” 

you dont answer, too busy trying to blink back the wave of dizziness that’s washing over you with the bliss hanma’s giving you, on his fingers alone.

the inked kanji on the back of his hand flashes darkly, sin bobbing up and down between your legs, shiny with your slick, as hanma curls his fingers into your tight, clenching walls and rasps into the shell of your ear, “asked you a question, dollface.”

“nobody,” you gasp, for some reason so nervous yet so turned on, by the demanding, challenging edge to his tone. “nobody, hanma— ah!”

“tch, it’s shuji, sweetheart.” he pinches your clit, laughs when your knees jerk up at the sensation. 

his voice goes a little softer as he continues, thinking you wouldn’t notice the hint of jealousy and longing in his voice with the state you’re in. “gonna keep me just your friend, just your ol’ buddy hanma-kun even after i take you on my bed, fuck you on my fingers ’n make you cum over ’n over again?”

“a—mngh, ’m sorry, shuji,” you whine, too enamoured by how he feels to argue, and his heart jumps at how sweet his name sounds off your tongue. “f—fuck, feels so good!”

“would feel better if i were usin’ my tongue. or if you were on my cock.” he laughs when your expression visibly scrunches up in embarrassment, cooing at you and telling you how cute you are as he grips your waist and turns you around to straddle him, legs shaky with the effect of your previous orgasms. “want me to do it, yeah?”

“mmm,” you answer though you’re not sure what he means, holding onto his shoulders for support. he holds you steady, and slides himself down onto his back onto the mattress, pushing your legs further apart around him and cupping your ass, pulling you forward — and you realize what he’s about to do. “shuji, no, i’ve n—”

you cut yourself off, but hanma picks your sentence up anyway.

“never been eaten out before?” he asks, sounding both unconvinced and pissed off at the same time, and you sit there as he stares up at you, so fucking embarrassed—

“my doll’s been gettin’ treated like shit, huh?” he breathes, gold eyes tracing your figure down. “sweet lil’ thing, i’ll show you how y’should be treated, a’right?”

“mm,” you let out a sound, so shy when his voice goes all sympathetic. it makes your pussy go slick with want, your heart beating faster with anticipation. “mkay.”

hanma doesn’t hold back. he tightens his arms around your hips and waist in an instant, pulling your cunt down on his mouth, nose pressed just over your clit as he inhales deep into you, letting out a needy growl as he opens his mouth and takes you.

your hands scramble to find a hold on the headboard as he rocks you forward, trapping you on your knees with your thighs plush and warm around his face, drinking in your cunt — devouring you like a man starved. “fuck,” he slurs into your heat, muffled and hot. “shit, baby, s’ fuckin—good.”

his tongue grazes your clit, curls around it and sucks, and you cry out, squirming in his arms, one hand leaving the headboard to get down and curl your fingers into his hair and tug, stuttering his name out in a pleading chant. “shuji, shuji, shuji — fuck!”

the moan he lets out when you pull at his black and blonde locks thrums against your cunt, and when he sucks at your clit again, slurping loudly and grunting praise into you, it’s enough to make you cum again. “ah, shuji, cumming, cumming!”

“i know,” he hisses, and when you look down at him, the rise of his cheekbones, his nose and his mouth are soaked with your wetness— and his eyes are blown wide, the gold of them almost lost in the darkness of his want. “i know, baby. i know.”

“please,” you hiccup, tears blurring your vision, hips trembling as you try not to collapse over hanma’s face.

your cunt aches, empty despite the way he shoves his tongue up your fluttering hole, and you dont want another orgasm without it. “fuck! shuji — shuji please, need your cock.”

“mm — what’d you say, dollface?” he grunts, licking at your clit, yanking you back in when you try to lift yourself off him. “cant just get all you want like that. say it right f’me.”

“w-what?” you sob, unsure what he means but so needy to obey, because you just need him to stuff you full and fill you up already.

you dont know if it’s wrong or not, to want your best friend’s dick inside you so badly, but you’ve gone this far, havent you? he’s giving you what you want.

“you g’na do as i say?” he smirks, watching how you nod and keen when he tongues at your abused clit again. “then say ‘i love you, daddy, i only want you ‘n your cock from now on’.”

huh? — it takes a second or two, but the words put clarity in your head, somewhat, when you hear them. 

swallowing back the shaky whine of acceptance bubbling at your throat, you manage to ask instead, “you want me to tell you i love you?”

there’s a small pause, before hanma’s grip on your hips tightens again. 

but this time, he pulls you off.

it urges you back to your position straddling his hips, as he sits back up, leaning on the headboard once more — and though his hard-on brushing hot and heavy through his jeans against your messy cunt is distracting, you pay attention to his expression instead.

hanma stares at you, face wet with your slick and hair messy with your hand tangling through the dyed locks. “so you ... dont?”

it’s a sudden flipside to the multiple orgasms he’d just sent you through, and it disorients you just a little. 

but the look in his amber eyes, black and blonde hair stuck to his forehead and framing his face, the warmth in your heart as you contemplate an answer — and the desperate ache in your empty cunt, it all convinces you to say you do.

“i do.”

there’s yet another damned pause, as you sit on hanma’s lap, naked and with his dick hard under your ass, your palms flat against his bare chest — if someone’d told you before that a dumb game of truth or dare after class would lead you to this situation, you’d laugh.

but — but this is shuji. he’s rough on the exterior, a major tease, a man notorious and famous on the streets; but really? he’s sweet.

he buys you coffee, takes you out shopping, takes you to the salon, pays for your takeout. he always tells you he'll fuck your exes up if they hurt you or make you cry (and they have done so, but you've never allowed him to beat them).

he goes with you to the library, even though he doesn't even care for spending hours on assignments or work. to be fair, he does leave you in there and go out to smoke after only a few minutes, but he always comes back to drop you home.

he's so nice to you, despite himself. and turns out, if you'd just ask, he'd fuck you too.

he’s your best friend. nothing less, nothing more, but you decide it now, trembling from the euphoria he’s giving you. you want more.

it’s possessive and spells desire, how he’d pulled you in here to make up for your ‘stupid shit exes’, telling you he would make you feel good if nobody else has done it before.

it’s all so sudden, but it makes sense. he’s been just your best friend this whole time, but you want more.

“i do love you, shuji.”

hanma lets out a breath, when you repeat it. “really, now?” he mutters. “not just sayin’ that so i’ll give you my cock? dont play with my heart now, doll.” he chuckles, but you can see the sincerity in his eyes.

“i do.” you mumble, shy again under the intensity of his piercing stare. “and i guess ... that’s why it never worked with anyone else. when you were there this whole time.”

“hah,” hanma laughs, steadying his hold on your waist before bringing one hand up to pat your cheek. ”y’ telling me no other asshole could make you cum, ‘cause you were busy wishin’ it was me?”

“no!” you blurt out, but when he grins wider, slides his hand down from your cheek to pinch the soft flesh of your tits, the electric shiver that courses down your spine says otherwise. it would be a lie, to say that you’ve never wanted him. “yeah, m-maybe.”

“fuck,” he hisses at that, eyes going even darker, like the dubious confirmation you’d given him was all he needed, like it was a love shot and a stroke of lust in one — and he yanks the buttons and zipper of his jeans open, tugging the fabric apart and pulling out his straining cock.

it’s big — unsurprising, but still a sight to take in, and you whimper tearfully when he grabs the length in his hand and taps his head to your clit, letting out a breathy chuckle. “biggest cock y’ ever seen, mhm?”

and you’d want to keep from boosting his ego, but the way you stare is answer enough. “n-need you in me, shuji.” you beg, and he just laughs again, rubbing the pearl of precum that swells at his tip across your slit, teasing. “say what i told you to say, then. if y’love me.”

call him daddy? “do i really have to?” you whine, pushing forward and grinding up on his cockhead. it ellicits a rough moan from him, that makes your clit throb when you hear it — but hanma remains adamant.

“you hafta, dollface.” he smiles, showing you teeth. “you’ll do it, if y’ really want me so bad.”

and god, the layers of pleasure he’d drowned you in are too sharp, too overwhelming for you to refuse and stop this right now — you want, need his cock. right now.

fine. “i—i love you, daddy.” you mumble, eyes skirting down because you cant bring yourself to look him in the eyes. “and i-i want only you. only your cock, and only you. i love you.”

and it’s like hanma has been waiting for this moment his whole life.

“shit, baby,” he huffs, pulling your tits flush against his body as he grabs you by the waist and by the back of your neck, dragging you in and meeting your lips with his in a starved kiss — fuck, he hadn’t kissed you until now? 

you realize it, with both a pang and a fluttering in your heart, but the thought is soon knocked out of your head, as he kisses you again, tasting the lingering essence of yourself on his tongue, tasting him, catching the scent of cigarettes and men’s cologne on his mouth and neck as you lean into him, letting him savour you whole. 

“god, i love you.” he groans, as he lines his cock up at your entrance, sliding sin and punishment over to your ass again and sheathing you down on him. “loved you f’so long now, baby. d’you know how i’ve felt? ‘n now y’re fuckin’ telling me all those assholes you dated never made you cum. fuck.”

“mm, sh-shuji!” you cry, and he moans in your ear in reply. “s-slower! please, please—”

“‘m too big for you?” he rasps, voice hoarse with pleasure. god, he’s wanted this forever. your tight, velvet walls clenching around him, wet and hot and your body on him, so pretty and all his.

“cant slow down, sweetheart.” he hisses. “consider this your punishment. for playin’ with my heart like that, for so long.” you’ve got your arms wrapped around hanma’s neck, trying to control the pace at which you sink down on his cock, but he rolls his hips up and pushes all the way into you anyway.

“a—haah! shuji!” your moan is saccharine in his ear, and he swallows back a curse, knowing that it’s not going to be long before he’s cumming, filling you all up.

“say sorry, baby.” he growls, pulling out before shoving back in you again, putting stars into your eyes with the sharp slap of skin against skin, the harsh kiss of his tip against your cervix. “really didn’t think i loved you, even when i was fuckin’ knuckle deep in you? callin’ you my dollface and telling you y’re pretty ‘n driving you around, and sucking on that sweet lil clit?”

you cry out, when he bites at the side of your neck, feeling even more embarrassed, feeling stupid — because god, you were stupid to miss the signs. to think he was just like that. when he only ever was that way with you. “‘m sorry, sorry. please, i’m sorry.”

“hmm,” he lulls, kissing the marks of his teeth that he’d left on you. “cant be mean with you, can i? too fuckin’ sweet for your own good.”

your mouth is on his cheek, lips sliding down his jaw in desperate kisses, needing him more even when he’s right here, when your body’s pressed to his and his lips are on you and his cock is all the way in your cunt. “mmngh,” you try, too dizzy to answer properly.

“now let’s teach ya how it feels to cum on a big, fat cock, yeah, dollface?” he says, starting up a hasty rhythm with his cock, up and down into you as you struggle to stay sitting up on his lap. “poor lil’ doll’s never even done this before?”

“never.” you keen, lost in the way his cock is so long, so thick, reaching all the sweet spots deep in your cunt in one fucking go. “n-never came on a cock before.”

“yeah, i know.” he says, all sympathetic again, and it sends heat rushing to both your face and your core. “g’na beg daddy to let you cum all over his cock?”

“mhm,” you moan, and he smiles, brings you in for another kiss as he speeds up. “then say it, baby. say what y’need to say to have your way.”

“mm, daddy, daddy—” you sob, trying to kiss him back as he hums into your mouth, forgetting your embarrassment at having to call him that, because fuck, it was starting to feel fitting. “please let me cum on your cock, please, please—”

“only if you’ll let me fill this pretty pussy all up.” he stutters, voice turning all raspy as he goes even faster, bouncing you up and down so hard as he nears his high. 

he loves the way you beg. loves the way you call him by that name. so cute, and almost pathetic, for him. it’s a fresh change. one he wants to hold on to. “yeah? you’ll let me do that, baby? let daddy fill your cunt up with his cum?”

“yes,” you gasp, vision going cloudy with both tears and pleasure as you feel the coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter all over again. “fuck, anything! anything, daddy, just please.”

“please what?” his laugh is now hoarse, as he looks at your blissed out face from under his lashes, eyes lidded and heavy with lust and pleasure.

the bedsheets under you are soaked, but neither of you can care — you moan again, sucking in a breath and falling into hanma’s chest, tired but so, so desperate to cum again. “please, shuji. please. need to cum on your cock. need you to cum in me.”

and he does. 

hanma watches, vision hazy as his cock slides out of your cunt milky and drooling, and pushes back in — pushes in so deep he hits your cervix again and he cums, leaking hot, white ropes of seed into your tight, wet cunt — and it makes you cum, too.

“fuck, tryna milk me all up, huh?” he heaves as he maintains his pace, gritting his teeth and grabbing your hips when you try to meet the rhythm, pussy fluttering and sucking him in like you’ve needed him as much as he’s needed you. “pretty, pretty lil’ pussy — all mine, yeah?”

“all yours, shuji.” you sob, and he stares as your head tilts up, eyes rolling back in your head as they fall shut, drowning in the pure heaven of cumming while stuffed full of his big, big cock. “a-hnngh, all yours.”

“yeah, that’s right.” he growls, wrapping punishment around your throat, hauling you back in to kiss you, sloppy and open mouthed, as sin slips down between your bodies — pressing into your pulsing clit with his thumb as he continues fucking up into you, pace relaxing slowly. “that’s right. y’re all mine now. forever.”

the position you’re in—perched on the kitchen counter, legs wrapped around a very naked Iwaizumi’s waist, arms slung over broad and tanned shoulders—is awkward, but you’re making do. the view’s not bad either. you draw back, grinning teasingly at your co-star. “a fan, huh?”

Iwaizumi avoids your eyes, just grumbles something inaudible as he shifts between your legs. the movement jostles his cock inside you, the cock that’s pressing so snugly against your spongy walls and making you feel like you’re being split open, and you have to bite down on your lip to prevent a moan from slipping out. 

“oh yeah,” Oikawa pops up again from behind his colleague’s shoulder. it’s a surprise the director hasn’t kicked him out yet, especially since he has absolutely no place on the set. you suppose he probably has enough star power to do whatever he wants though. his name’s always trending one way or another, after all. “he’s been a fan from the start, has been fapping to you ever since your solo vid days.”

your eyes widen and you stare at Iwaizumi disbelievingly. he’s been watching your videos since you were an amateur camgirl in college?

Iwaizumi snaps uselessly, “Oikawa.”

“he has his favorite clips of you ready on his phone for when he needs to get hard for scenes.” Oikawa snickers, clearly enjoying this far more than he should. “i’ve seen him get off to you so many times, you don’t even know. thank god you’re finally giving him a taste of your pussy, i worry for him sometimes.”

“you fucking-”

if it weren’t for the fact that the director had very sternly told the two of you to “maintain that angle” before heading off to review the earlier shots, you think Iwaizumi would probably be lunging at Oikawa and throttling him by his pretty little neck by now.

heat floods your cheeks at the thought of Iwaizumi jerking off to your videos. you wonder what he looks like...whether he bites his lip the way he does in his videos...whether he grits his teeth and lets out those short, panting breaths...whether his head falls back, jaw dropping open, expression clouding over, when he finishes all over his hand. you wonder what he would look like finishing inside of you. 

“he moped so much, you know, when he found out he was the only one out of us all who hadn’t...worked with you yet.”

you stifle a giggle when you see Iwaizumi look up towards the ceiling, over your shoulder, down at where the two of you are joined. anywhere but your eyes. you do feel a little bad for him- he’s so red, and not just from him fucking you on the counter earlier.

“well, i’m very flattered. but i guess nobody told you...” you exhale and unwrap your arms from around his neck to press your palms against his cheeks, framing his handsome face and turning it towards you. he’s still not looking at you. “...about how big of a fan i am of you.”

Iwaizumi’s gaze snaps to meet yours. finally. you beam. “hi.”

“you...” his voice is husky, a little worn from the delicious grunts and moans he let out earlier when he was rutting into you like an animal. “you’ve...w-watched my stuff.”

it’s quite endearing, the way he’s stuttering from embarrassment. it’s in stark contrast to his words to you during the shoot, how smoothly the lines flowed from his lips about how he was going to fill you up, breed your pretty little pussy, knock you up and start a family with you.

“of course i have,” you snort, “have you seen yourself?”

Oikawa blinks. “you’re...Iwa-chan’s fan? you never mentioned that.”

you smirk. “didn’t exactly want to damage your ego when you had your tongue buried in my pussy. i needed you to stick around and finish the job.”

“why would that damage my ego? i’m the one you shot four movies with.” Oikawa scoffs, folding his arms. “it’s not like he’s your favorite or anything.”

your silence speaks volumes.

“oh my god,” the brunette says, despair flooding his voice, “he’s your favorite? even though i made you cum three times with just my mouth?”

“yeah and i can cum five times a night to his videos alone, what’s your point?”

Iwaizumi looks ridiculously pleased, though the twitching of his lips makes it clear that he’s trying to hide it. you smile instinctively at the sight of his softened expression, and trace his cheekbones with your thumbs. he’s looking at you now, really looking at you, and not like the way he does when he’s acting. his green eyes are deep, penetrating, and you could get lost in them, you really could.

“i- i thought you didn’t really like me,” Iwaizumi says quietly, “thought that you just didn’t want to work with me.”

“no.” you roll your hips, biting your lip at the way Iwaizumi’s lashes flutter when his eyes close, a soft hiss leaving him as you fuck yourself on his cock slowly. imperceptible enough so that the film crew won’t notice. so the director won’t blow a gasket for you ruining the angle. “i was saving the best for last.”

“the best, huh?” Iwaizumi tilts his head in Oikawa’s direction. and indignant sound can be heard from the brunette. “interesting.”

“mm. never could find anything that could make me as full as...this,” and with that you fearlessly dig your heels into his ass, pulling him close and your back arches when you feel Iwaizumi’s cock bury inside you completely, his balls pressing against your ass. he nearly falls forward, slamming his hands down on the counter just in time, forehead dipping to touch your shoulder as he lets out a groan.

he stays there for a long moment, savoring the feeling of your walls hugging his cock, before he draws back. he lets out a breathless chuckle before letting go of one of your legs to cup the back of your neck, thumb stroking your jaw, pressing past your lips and dipping into your mouth. his own lips part as his gaze searches your features, and you can feel it now. that confidence. "you...you make me want to go off script. show you how i really fuck.”

you close your lips around his thumb, never taking your eyes off his the whole while. his pupils dilate at the sight of you so...pliant for him. you run a hand up his bare torso, fingers grazing his nipple as they come to a rest on his chest. “what’s stopping you?”

“he won’t do that.” Oikawa’s annoying voice reminds you that he’s still there and you nearly groan out loud in frustration at the moment being interrupted. “he’s too much of a professional for that. me, on the other hand...for you, cutie? just say the word.”

you’ve worked with Oikawa enough to know how to tune him out and you do just that. you even tune out the rest of the set, the bustle of cameramen and production assistants, the call of the director to get ready for the next shot. so does Iwaizumi, from how intently he’s focusing on you, hanging onto your every word.

"then...how about i come over? after we’re done.” you sigh, leaning close and grazing your lips up Iwaizumi’s jaw. your tits press against his chest, and you can feel how hot his skin is against yours. “we could...rehearse for tomorrow’s scene.”

Iwaizumi’s breath hitches in his throat. you can feel the coiled tension and strength in his shoulders, and you just can’t wait to find out how hard he can really fuck. how unrestrained he can be without all these cameras around. his cock throbs inside you. 

you kiss his cheek, smiling into it mischievously.

“and...i could sign that poster of yours.”

“just the tip, ‘kay?” Matsukawa drawls out his line as he pushes your knees farther apart with his. “s’not sex if it’s just the tip.”

your hand looks tiny pressed against his broad chest. it’s like pushing against a brick wall, his firm pectoral muscles flexing under your touch. the tattoo on his chest that unfurls to his shoulder and biceps really sells the bad boy image he’s supposed to be playing right now. 

and you, with your cute, flowy skirt bunched up around your waist, ripped open blouse, and the little cross dangling from a gold chain around your neck...you look every part the innocent church girl getting ruined by the not-so-boy-next-door.

“o-oh...” you shudder, looking down at where he’s just barely piercing you. your breath hitches in your throat and you swipe the back of your hand across your wet eyes, smearing your mascara on purpose in the process, “t-then...just a little...”

Matsukawa smirks.

and then in one brutal thrust, he sheathes his entire cock inside you, ripping a scream out of you. tears leak out of your eyes and down your temples, spit pooling in the corners of your mouth, whimpers rising from you at the hot, burning feeling of his fat cock throbbing inside you, and you can see the cameraman assigned to you zoom in on your expression. it’s the selling point of his videos, but until now, you thought it was all just pretend.

“that’s not...!” you throw your head back when he doesn’t give you any time to adjust and thrusts forward again. your thighs are trembling around his hips, spread so wide for his big frame. “nnn- t-too big- p-pull out!”

“can’t do that, doll,” Matsukawa groans, dropping his head, feeling the way your tight walls are sucking him in, the way his cock fits so snugly inside you. he huffs out a laugh, “you’re not exactly letting me go either. greedy little pussy.”

he rolls his hips and your cheeks heat up at the lewd squelches of his cock spearing your cunt open. there’s no doubt that every sound is being picked up by the shotgun mics, from your whimpers and moans to his grunts to the slap of his balls against your ass when he finally starts moving.

“look at that,” Matsukawa coos in your ear, “not as good and pure as everyone thinks you are, hm?”

he catches the gold cross on your necklace between his teeth and lifts his head again, smirking down at you, not even skipping a beat with every stroke of his cock. your fingers dig into his shoulders, forming crescent-shaped indents in his skin, eyes rolling into the back of your head. you’re not acting anymore, not with the way his cock is pummeling your insides, reaching so deep inside you like its trying to carve the shape of itself into your pussy.

"ah- please- nngh- please, i’ll be good, just- g-gentl- be gentler!”

Matsukawa just chuckles and shifts, balancing himself on one hand, hiking up one of your knees on his hip with the other, changing the angle of his thrusts to fuck you deeper, harder, faster.

the heat in you builds, coils tighter and tighter until you’re writhing under him, shaking your head and whining.

you really just can’t take it anymore, and—

“cut!” 

the director claps his hands and a mixture of relief and frustration bursts inside you at that.

“that was great, guys, stay right there. next angle, everyone.”

the cock inside you stills, though Matsukawa doesn’t tear his gaze off you. off the sweaty, crumpled expression on your face. it makes you a little self-conscious and so you avert your eyes, choosing to turn your head so you can watch Seijoh’s film crew fussing around with equipment, moving into place for the next angle. 

your co-star doesn’t let your attention drift though. he lets go of the cross between his teeth, and it drops back down onto your chest.

“you make really nice sounds. hot as fuck.”

your cheeks burn at the...compliment? glancing back at him out of the corner of your eye, you see his lips curl up into a crude smirk. 

he looks down between your legs, at the puffy lips stretched obscenely wide around the base of his length. “got a really nice pussy too.”

“oh my god,” you finally cover your face with your hands, “don’t say that.”

“even better than the rumors.”

“r-rumors?” your hands slip off your face.

“oh yeah. the boys here are all having a fit that i got you first. they wanted to watch you in action too, you know? but boss wouldn’t let them in. you can rest assured they will be watching when this comes out though.”

“oh my god.”

he just laughs, corners of his eyes crinkling. 

at the sight of that...you have to admit that Matsukawa Issei is really...really fucking hot. it’s unconscious, the way your cunt flutters at that, but he must feel it because the laugh dies in his throat and his smirk widens.

Matsukawa shifts and props his head up on one hand, looking down at you with hooded eyes. his other hand slides up your torso to cup a breast. “wanna go back to my place after this?”

blinking at him, you chew on the inside of your cheek. that...goes against every rule in your book but somehow, you don’t find yourself minding at all. “i...why?”

he shrugs, absently groping your tit, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, paying no mind to the way you flinch and arch your back under him. “like i said, you’ve got a nice pussy and, well, without these fucking cameras around...”

“...i wanna see how long you can really last. before breaking, i mean.”

Kita’s facing the window, gazing out at the stars blooming across the sky and the moon casting a breathtaking glow over the fields. 

a lump rises in your throat—damn these hormones—when you see something far more adorable than him: your daughter all bundled up, cradled carefully in Kita’s arms like there’s nothing in the world more precious. his hand, rough and calloused from unending days of hard labor, looks so gentle under the baby’s small head, thumb stroking her cheek where it rests in the crook of his elbow. 

she sniffles, settling down from the cry that must have woken Kita up. 

“you came out just perfect.” 

you widen your eyes when you realize Kita’s speaking...to her. his voice is low and soothing and your heart just melts. he hunches his shoulders so he can lower his head to press his lips gently against his daughter’s forehead, closing his eyes and murmuring, “perfect...just like your mother. gonna grow up to be just as pretty too. i know.”

you bite your lip to suppress the overwhelming warmth that swells in your chest.

Kita shifts on his feet, pacing slowly back and forth in front of the window, and at this angle you can see the way he looks at her, like he can’t quite believe he’s the one who helped make her.

“you’re gonna grow up so loved, y’know that? granny’s over the moon.” Kita smiles, and it’s so soft and pure and you’ve never been so in love. whatever had disturbed your daughter from her sleep is gone now as she gurgles happily. you wrap the coverlet tighter around you, smiling at the sight before you. “she's been waitin’ a long time to meet you.”

you look down, fondly remembering the sheer joy on his grandmother’s face when the two of you had announced you were expecting. she’d started knitting baby clothes on the exact same day, declaring proudly that her great-grandchild should have only the best.

“you got four uncles who’re gonna spoil you rotten.” Kita’s voice is a little firmer now, a tinge of amused disapproval to it. “Aran, Atsumu, Osamu, Suna. that’s them. hope you like volleyball cause if you don’t...think you just might break their poor hearts.”

oh, you know for a fact someone’s heart is going to be broken. none of the other boys have kids yet. it’s going to be a bloodbath—especially with the twins—for who your baby picks as her favorite. personally, you have your money on Aran, but Atsumu's quite the charmer and certainly not to be underestimated.

Kita pauses by the glass again, gazing out over the rolling fields. there’s hesitation on his face now, a flash of uncertainty that you’ve rarely seen before. but then it’s gone, replaced by a steady determination, one you’ve seen countless times before. one that you fell head over heels for.

“i don’t know much about bein’ a dad but..” he looks back down at his daughter, who’s now fast asleep, snuggled against his chest comfortably. “i’ll do my best.”

you unfold your arms, and Kita must hear the rustling of your clothes because he turns to look at you, mild surprise dancing in his eyes. the tips of his ears turn a little pink. 

“ah...did i wake you?”

you ignore his question and just shake your head, beaming at him.

carefully stepping closer, so as to not disturb your daughter from her peaceful slumber, you slide your arms around his waist from behind, propping your chin up on his shoulder and peeking over it to see her little figure held in his arms. 

this...this is everything you wished for and more. 

you peck him on the cheek and draw back so you can look into his eyes. the same eyes that your daughter has.

“you’re going to be the perfect father.”