katsuki scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. the room fell quiet as the casual banter suddenly felt heavier. his eyes narrowed as he tracked the flush on your cheeks, letting out a sharp click of his tongue.

"you're pathetic." he muttered, his usual sharp tone replaced by a low roughness. he slid down the bed deliberately until his knees nearly brushed yours. "if you're gonna do something, you don't guess. you do it right."

you blinked, caught off guard by how close he suddenly was. "what is that supposed to mean?"

"you're never gonna get it just listening to me talk." he muttered, his hand moving to the tied strings of his sweatpants. "move over."

a mix of nerves and excitement hit you when you looked down and saw the outline of his dick against the grey fabric. "katsuki? what are you doing?"

"giving you a practical lesson so you can quit whining." he slid his sweatpants down to his thighs, just enough to free himself. he was already leaking, getting thick and heavy just from listening to you complain all night. "you want to learn how to do it right? practice on someone who's actually gonna tell you the truth."

you'd seen him half-naked for years after workouts or just lounging around, but this was entirely different. the reality of your best friend sitting on your bed, completely exposed and waiting for you, made your skin tingle with sudden anticipation. there was no point in lying now—you secretly wanted this for years. it was always a fantasy.

closing the final bit of distance, you slowly knelt right between his thighs. he stayed entirely still, eyes tracking your every move while his clenched jaw, trying and failing to hide the sudden heat on his cheeks.

"don't just dive in." he commanded softly, his hand reaching out to cup the back of your neck, his thumb resting right against your pulse point. "use your hands first."

you reached out and wrapped your fingers right around the base of his cock. you wanted him all at once, staring at the slick, pink head. his breath hitched sharply through his nose as his fingers tightened just a bit against your neck.

"like this?" you whispered, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

"yeah.." he grumbled, his eyes darker than before. "now, look at me while you do it. don't look down like you're ashamed of what you're doing. own it."

following his words, you leaned forward, parting your lips and letting the warmth of your breath brush against the sensitive tip. katsuki's hips gave a slight twitch upward.

"good." he muttered, his voice strained now—cracking under the physical reality of your mouth inches away from him. "now.. wrap your lips over your teeth. completely. if i feel a single scratch, lesson's over."

you took him in slowly, testing the waters. the size of him filled your mouth, and you focused entirely on the sensation, swirling your tongue around the tip just like he had hinted earlier.

a low hiss escaped from him—a noise you had never heard him make before. it sent a thrill of pure power straight down your spine.

"f-fuck.." he choked out, his fingers tangling into your hair. "just like that—keep that exact pressure. you're doing fine.. too damn fine."

you swirled your tongue over the sensitive ridge again, tasting the sweetness of his arousal. hearing that raw, breathless praise leave his lips—sounds he usually kept locked tightly behind closed doors or buried under angry scoffs—sent a jolt of pure adrenaline straight through you.

"take more of it." you sank lower, taking him deep until his tip touched the back of your throat. "yeah, there we go.." his fingers trembled where they tangled in your hair, entirely caught up in the pleasure of a lesson he was supposed to be scolding you for.

knowing you had this effect on katsuki, it didn't just motivate you—it made you want to push him even further. you tightened your grip around his base, using your hand to mimic the upward slide of your mouth as you took him a little deeper, just like he instructed.

"ah—fuck." a heavy groan left him as his head snapped back against the mattress, his hips rolling up into your mouth in a helpless, automatic reaction to the sudden suction. he squeezed his eyes shut, his jaw straining so hard the cords in his neck stood out. "are you.. shit.. did you seriously even need the fucking help?"

you stayed quiet, humming softly against his skin. the sudden, muffled vibration shot straight through him, shattering whatever control he had left.

"f-fast learner, my ass." he choked out, his breath hitching as you picked up the pace, sliding your lips up and down his length with perfect pressure. "you're doing this on purpose. damn it, y/n.."

he opened his eyes, and they were completely dark, blown out with a mixture of sheer disbelief and overwhelming pleasure. the fierce, confident look he always wore was entirely gone, replaced by a heavy hunger that made the air in your bedroom feel thick and suffocating. he looked down at you, his chest heaving.

Your mouth was warm, wet, and wrapping around him so perfectly that it was starting to feel overwhelming. the friction was becoming too much, heat pooling low in his gut too quickly.

"wait—" katsuki suddenly rasped, his fingers tightening in your hair, firmly but gently pulling your head back until you were forced to release him with a soft pop.

you let out a quiet gasp, blinking up at him with flushed cheeks, a thin strand connecting your wet lips to the glistening tip of his dick.

he panted, shoulders heaving as he stared down at you with a red face. he swallowed hard, his hips giving a frustrated little twitch the second he lost the intense warmth of your mouth.

"this was supposed to be a fuckin' lesson." he grumbled as he brought his thumb up to your chin, gripping it just tightly enough to force you to keep eye contact.

he dragged his thumb over your wet lower lip, staring intently at your face. the look in your eyes told him everything—you weren't done with him yet.

"you want to keep going?" he whispered, his gaze dropping to your mouth before flicking back to your eyes. "or are you satisfied? 'cause you clearly know exactly what the hell you're doing. you don't need my damn help."

you finally got it—the real secret to giving good head was actually wanting to do it. and you wanted nothing more.

Contrary to popular belief, all of them came to him willingly, and they all knew that they were allowed to leave anytime they wanted. Some women came from impoverished kingdoms, where monarchs took most of their subjects’ money and prettily dressed up their corruption as ‘tax’. These women figured living in a palace with an abundance of food and clothing was better than a rickety shack that threatened to blow away with every thunderstorm. Others came from foreign lands, drawn in by whispers of an emperor in the east, who spoiled his women rotten with all his riches. A good handful even were royal and noblewomen who fled their kingdoms to escape forced marriages with men who were often four times their age. 

Harem standing at a whopping five hundred and fifty-five women, Sukuna was self-aware enough to know that some wouldn’t be interested in him. While all came willingly, some seemed perfectly content with enjoying all the luxuries being his concubine offered without ever having to be in the same room as him. This hardly offended the emperor because, truth be told, he had favourites too, and it didn’t matter how much stamina he had, trying to get through five hundred women would’ve sent him to an early grave with his cheeks sunken in from exhaustion. 

The only rule he had was that he expected all the concubines to be loyal. The irony of that rule wasn’t lost on him, but he was a possessive fucker, and he knew he would kill whoever touched what was his in the blink of an eye.

Or so he thought he would.

Fending off too many mosquitoes to count, Sukuna decided to take a late-night walk to clear his head. His physician told him it would help him clear his mind and relax, but after missing the pesky insects one too many times and smacking himself all over, he decides this isn’t for him. 

When he finds himself stalking through the Rose Palace, he slows down to stare at the pristine white building with intricate red accents all over. This palace housed the lower-ranking concubines, some of whom he had only met once, if at all, and he realised it had been a while since his last visit. Knocking himself out of his daze with a shake of his head, Sukuna turns to walk back the way he came. Relaxation be damned, he couldn’t afford to deal with more of these mosquitoes and get lost too.  

But his sharp ears pick up on a sound that has him freezing in his tracks. It is so late that the courts are empty and all the women are fast asleep in all their quarters. So, hearing a fervent curse whispered into the night, low and pleasure-filled, followed by the moan of a name, is shocking. Head tilting, Sukuna’s legs have him turning towards the sound instead of leaving, doubling back to a room just at the end of the row. The window is open, and through the slip between the curtains, he sees it.

The indisputable entanglement of two women pressed together in a messy web of soft legs and wandering hands. Their chests are plastered together so tightly that not even the thinnest sheet of paper could hope to wedge in between them. One woman is completely naked, and while she looks like a dreamy vision as moonlight falls over her skin and marks a white outline around her silhouette, Sukuna’s scarlet gaze shoots to the other woman instead. You. 

Clad in a silky nightgown, your hair falls over your shoulders, curls and waves kissing along your collarbone almost as feverishly as the woman on your lap pecks at every sliver of skin she can get to. You have an arm looped around the woman’s slim waist, keeping her on your lap, and you watch her through low-lidded lashes while she grinds down on your fingers. She whispers a name, presumably yours, and Sukuna would have found it pretty if the sight before him didn’t fill him with unimaginable rage.

It seems he has just found the vermin that has been running amok. 

The woman moans unintelligibly, and you capture her lips in a heated kiss before pulling back to whisper, “You can say it, Emika. No one’s gonna hear you.”

Oh, he begs to differ.

“Yours.” The woman, Emika, whimpers with her mouth gaping and hips picking up to buck into your hand faster.

“Hmm?”

“I—I’m yours.” 

Emika’s words are uttered with her right on the precipice of an orgasm, and a better man would have left a long time ago, but unfortunately for her, that wasn’t Sukuna. So, with two long strides, he’s at the door, and a burly arm shoots up to land a heavy blow against the flimsy block of wood. There’s a shrill scream when the door swings open, and it bangs against the wall in a loud crackle, just shy of falling right off its hinges.

Sukuna steps over the threshold, and he watches as the brunette woman’s eyes nearly bug out of her head. She grabs a nearby blanket off the bed, wrapping it around her body with trembling hands before coming to kneel at his feet.

Or at least Sukuna thinks that’s what she does, because since he walked into the room, his blood-slick eyes haven’t left yours. You’re still sitting prettily on the bed. Arms propped out behind you and the thin strap of your nightgown falls off your shoulder, teasing the curve of your breast, as you meet his gaze head-on. 

The longer he stares, the more the infuriatingly alluring smirk on your lips broadens. That look is enough for him to know who the guilty party is here.

“Your majesty.” Sukuna startles a little, as if he forgot the other woman was still there, and he finally glances down at her. At complete odds with you lounging on the bed, Emika’s head nearly touches the floor with how far she bows. “We weren’t expecting you.”

I bet. He mentally grouses.

“Am I interrupting something?” Sukuna sees the woman shudder, as if bearing the weight of the heavy baritone in his voice was too difficult a task. 

“No! Not at all. We were just uh—” she allows herself to meet his stare for half a second before glancing away again. “Just talking.”

A snicker sounds from the four-poster bed, and Emika whips her head to the side, lips thinning like she’s ordering you to be quiet.

“Talking? With your clothes off?”

She turns back to the emperor, and her face is flushed bright red. “I erm…we—”

“Get out.”

Emika jerks like she has just been electrocuted, but stands up, nonetheless. She takes a few steps to the door, then, as if remembering something, turns towards you and softly calls out your name, as if urging you to follow her, but Sukuna merely shakes his head.

“No, just you.”

There’s no movement, and with a glance over his shoulder, he sees the young woman frozen on the spot with her lips pursed as if she might stand her ground, but with a warning flash of his ruby reds, she is hobbling out the door like a kicked dog. Sukuna’s eyes meet yours again, and you finally pull the gown down your legs to hide supple bits of skin that both sets of his traitorous eyes lapped away at. 

“Your majesty.” You greet with a slight incline of your head, moving as if you were going to approach him, but choose to sit at the edge of the bed at the last minute. The lack of deference has him bristling.

“You aren’t bowing.”

“Weak knees. My humblest apologies.” You explain half-heartedly, and when you cross your legs, he once again has to wrench his eyes off their smooth expanse and back to your face. Sukuna definitely hadn’t met you yet. Sometimes he received brief descriptions of potential concubines, and he would wave them off before going back to his work. After all, it wasn’t like he would acquaint himself with every single one of them. 

But perhaps if he had paid more attention during your arrival, he would’ve caught you before you had made yourself so…comfortable. 

Remembering your name from Emika, he drawls it out, tests it on his tongue like it was an unfamiliar taste of exotic wine, and he was trying to decide whether he liked it or not. Being called by name makes you perk up a little.

“Do you mind explaining what I just walked in on?” You don’t answer right away, and it makes the last bit of his patience dry up, words now coming out as a low growl. “I asked you a question.”

“I heard you.” While he’s barely keeping his temper at bay, you’re completely calm and play with the threads that came loose from the bedding, as if they were more interesting than the entire conversation was. More interesting than he was. “I was just wondering how much detail you would like me to go into.”

The side of Sukuna’s face scrunches, and at his sides, all twenty fingers almost follow the movement, nearly balling into fists. But with how calm you were, he decides he could not be the one to break and lose his temper first. He takes a step closer to you, and finally, he sees the corners of your eyes crinkle as you narrow your eyes at him the tiniest bit.

So, you did have some self-preservation.

“When I first heard the rumours that someone was bedding my women, I thought it was one of my soldiers or maybe a cook. Hell, it could have even been a eunuch who had somehow evaded castration, but it’s you, isn’t it?” Your back straightens when he stops a few paces away from you, and yes, he knew for sure that it was you. “What makes you think you can take my women?”

Your lips purse for a moment, eyes shifting to and fro as you look for a good answer to give him. Then…“May I speak freely for the remainder of this conversation, your majesty?”

That elicits a sharp cackle from him.

“Why bother asking? You never needed my permission to do anything before.” You only arched an eyebrow at him, as if he were a toddler whose tantrum you were waiting out. “Speak.”

Your hair bounced as you readjusted on the bed, and without even knowing you, Sukuna could tell from the condescending gleam in your eyes that he wasn’t going to like what you were about to say. 

“You have half a thousand concubines and only pay attention to a select few, twenty on a good day. It’s hardly fair that the rest of us are expected to stay celibate just because you can’t keep up.”

What.

“Excuse me?”

“The way I see it,” you continue as if he hasn’t spoken. “You should be thanking me for keeping the ladies entertained in your stead.”

“Thank you?” he splutters with his voice the highest it’s ever been. 

“You’re welcome.”

Something between a laugh and a scoff comes from his chest, half incensed, half disbelieving as he turns his back to you. Hands go to rake over his face, passing over the hardened casing that covered the right side. A moment passed as he gathered himself, then, when he was sure he wouldn’t throttle you, he turned around again.

“I don’t know who you think you are, but you don’t get to come into my house, break my one rule, then tell me I should be thanking you for it.” His words wipe the shit-eating grin off your face. “All the women know that if they’re unhappy, they can leave at anytime. I’m not forcing anyone to be here!”

“You know full well that most of them can’t go back to the conditions they lived in before!” Had anyone else raised their voice at him, they would have been cut down where they stood. But Sukuna is so thrilled that you are showing an emotion other than cool indifference, he barely pays it any mind. You stand from the bed and approach him with agility that tells him you in fact, did not have weak knees.

“You live in my house. In my kingdom,” eyes red hot as a blazing sun, sneered down at you as if they were promising to burn you to a crisp. “You follow my rules.”

Glossy lips purse as you stare up at him for a few long moments. Then that carefully blank curtain falls over your face again. “Fine. Then I should like to leave.”

You turned towards your vanity, and Sukuna only saw the piece of paper lying on it now. “I was going to hand in my resignation letter later this week, but seeing that you’re already here—”

“No.”

Feet faltering, you pause, and your shoulders work when you take a deep breath before turning around.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I won’t sign it.” Sharp canines glint as he gives you a sardonic smile.

“But you just said we could leave whenever we wanted.”

“I said my concubines could leave whenever they wanted.” The distance between the two of you closes again, and he isn’t sure who stepped closer this time. “You are a thief.”

“A thief?” You sputtered with your brows raised so high they nearly touched your hairline. “With all due respect your majesty, you have a nasty habit of making these women sound like possessions rather than people.”

“They’re mine.” He says, not even denying your comment, and when you scowl, he has to crane his head down so he can get in your face. “You think you can come into my house, eat my food, wear clothes bought with my money,” he lifts his hand, and a sharp nail catches the strap of your nightgown where it hangs off your shoulder, and tugs it up to its rightful place. “Fuck my women, and I’ll just let you leave?”

You glance down at his hand hovering over the curve of your shoulder, his nails so long they could puncture through skin with ease if he wanted to.

“You can’t keep me here against my will.”

The boisterous laughter that echoes through the room almost makes you flinch. 

“Who’s gonna stop me, huh? You?”

Your lips tremble, and he preens, thinking he has finally gotten through to you. But instead of the ugly cry he was expecting, a smile curls your lips, and you take a step forward, so close he can smell the scent of jasmine and something more edible on your skin.

“Well in that case, Lady Kyomi has been staring at me a little too closely these days. If I’m staying, I might as well pay her a visit.”

Sukuna didn’t make a habit of harming people who were a lot frailer than him. He liked the dizzying thrill of heading right into battle with combatants who were on par with him. And swords, claws and teeth would meet in a frenzy of blood and gore. 

This meant that he never lifted a hand against a woman. That is, until today, when a hand closes around your neck and pushes you back until you’re pressed against a nearby wall.

Your breath hitches.

He isn’t choking you, not really, but the threat of it, as his massive hand spans over your throat with ease and sharp nails drag along your skin, is definitely there. Sukuna could handle a lot of things, but you threatening to go after the very woman in the running to be his empress consort was out of bounds. 

“Do you wish to see me lose my temper?”

His voice was scarily low now, and the tip of his nose brushed against yours.

“You mean you haven’t already?”

“Don’t test me, little girl.” Your nose scrunches, obviously not a fan of that nickname. With his grip on your neck, he tips your head up higher so you can look at him. “You are to stay away from Kyomi, Emika and all the other concubines you have bedded. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal.” You say that a little too quickly for it to be convincing, and when you move into his hand around your neck instead of cowering away, he knows you aren’t going to give in so easily. “But just between us, your majesty, tell me which upsets you more, the fact that I fucked them or that I didn’t fuck you?”

A beat passes before Sukuna laughs, long and loud right in your face. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Your cock is pressing into my thighs.” You mused, and his shoulders tensed. 

Truth be told, he has been hard since he eavesdropped on you and Emika earlier. And as much as it pained him to admit it, the longer he spoke to you, the higher the tent beneath his robes pitched itself.  

“You know,” A manicured nail skirts over the opening of his robes over his bare chest and his cock twitches. “If you had just asked, I would have considered letting you join.”

Your sheer audacity has him at a loss once more.

“I wouldn’t need your permission.” He replies through clenched teeth and tries to hold his breath so your perfume wouldn’t cloud his mind. This is probably how you got people wrapped around your finger. He thought. A teasing touch, the coaxing pull of your sweetened scent and most of all your soft, taunting voice, and they would be trapped before they even knew it. 

“Oh, but you’d want it.”

Sukuna’s hand flexes around your throat, and a beat passes with him just panting inches from your mouth. Whenever the emperor couldn’t purge his temper through bloodshed, he often turned to fucking. And it seems he chose the latter as he tugs you forward and seals his lips over yours. 

You flinch at the force of the kiss, breath coming out as a soundless huff like he just knocked the air right out of your lungs. Your hands come up to rest on his thick biceps, but you don’t push him away just yet. 

Sukuna’s tongue traces over the plush seam of your lips before it plunges into your mouth, and he stiffens at the taste that hits him. Minty freshness, remnants of hibiscus tea and a little fainter, the unmistakable tartness of pussy. A fang nips at your soft lip, and he relishes the yelping sound you make as he greedily laps at a bead of blood that flows out. He wrenches himself away from you, eyes burning as he meets your gaze. 

“You put your mouth on her?” He seethes, and you only peer up at him through long lashes, a self-assured smile firmly in place on your lips. “You are infuriating.”

Hands grasp your waist and pull you off the wall and up against him. And as he leads you to the bed, your feet never touch the floor again.

Belatedly, you start to wonder whether you have bitten off more than you can chew. 

The bedsprings whine under the weight of the burly emperor lying on them. The man is made of pure muscle, and the inky black markings that cut lines down his tanned skin bulge with every movement he makes.  Four hulking arms lay at his sides, flexing impatiently as he tries to keep himself from pulling you onto him. And while he waits, two sets of eyes, four total, glare at you through his coral hair and obsessively follow you the way a predator would stalk its next meal. 

“Since you enjoy eating pussy so much, let’s see how you like being on the receiving end.” Sukuna had said a while ago, and while your heart thrashed excitedly in your chest at the prospect of sitting on his mouth, you soon realised he wasn’t talking about the one on his face. 

You could only gawk as washboard abs quivered, then gaped, giving way to a large mouth that cut through the centre of his stomach. The mouth gave you a mischievous grin, canines razor sharp, before it licked its lips in anticipation. Between that and the monstrosities, yes, monstrosities plural, that lay heavy between his legs, you aren’t sure where to look. 

“What are you waiting for?”

Your eyes bounce up to his face, and you shift a little on the foot of the bed before moving on all fours to crawl towards him. A crimson gaze burns a trail through you when you go to his side instead of immediately straddling him. You tuck your hair behind your ear before you lean down and kiss him. Sukuna’s arms snake under you, and you gasp when he forcibly pulls you on top of him. Settling on his lap, he makes sure the kiss never breaks as he sucks your lip into his mouth, chasing the taste of iron he tasted earlier.

A tongue licks a stripe up your lips, and you feel a heated breath blow against your stomach before his other mouth lolls out against your skin. You shiver above him, hands braced beside his head and almost buckling from the sensation pooling low in your belly.

“Sit on it.” Sukuna commands, breath hot against your lips, but you don’t move. A low groan sounds when you pepper a soft kiss on his mouth, and he pulls back to ask again.

“Let me taste you.”

Your dark eyes clash with his, and he blurts the word out before he can stop himself. The word he has never had to say to anyone before.

“Please.”

An emperor begging a concubine? No one would believe you if you told them. But you oblige. Straightening on his lap and moving forward until you’re hovering just above the large mouth that literally drools with your cunt so close to it. 

Hands grope at your hips, then lower you slowly.  

Whereas Sukuna is taking his time, his mouth didn’t seem to get the memo because a disarming kiss is delivered to your clit before a fat tongue lolls out and swipes a lavish lick up your slit. You forward jerk, and strong hands clamp around your form tighter, holding then pushing you further onto the relentless mouth that laps away at every drop of your slick. 

“Oh.” You huff out with a little shock colouring your tone. 

You look at Sukuna’s face again, and you see his lips gape as a light glaze covers his eyes, almost like he can taste you on both mouths. Your hips roll against his stomach when his thick tongue thrusts into your cunt, and moan slips through as your gummy walls clamp around the muscle.

“Look who can’t keep up now,” Sukuna says, referring to when you told him that you were doing him a favour by picking up the slack of tending to his ‘neglected’ concubines. 

Your hips slow, trying to lift off his mouth to give yourself a break, but he doesn’t let you, of course. And you’re not sure what possesses you, but your fingers, the same ones you had inside Emika a few minutes ago, go to his lips and slot into his mouth. 

“I keep up well enough.” You know he tastes her essence from the way his red pinpoint eyes narrow to slits, and you smile at him. “Sweet, isn’t it?”

Teeth bite down on your fingers, and you mewl at the ghost of pain that follows. His fangs pricked your skin again, and he sucks the digits into his mouth with a heavy groan. You feel his body move beneath you, and when you glance over your shoulder to see his hips rutting into the air and both his cocks leaking with precum, your tongue instinctively wets your lips.

Maybe one day you’d be brave enough to take him in your mouth too…wait, why were you thinking about that as if you’d let this happen again?

Sukuna is drooling around your fingers and on your cunt as he alternates between diving into its tight hole and sucking your clit into his mouth. When you feel his hips shudder pathetically under you, followed by the warm spray of cum against the small of your back, you almost want to make fun of him for cumming untouched. But you can’t because you’re not that far behind either. A few more shaky rolls of your hips, and he keeps you plastered to him as you tremble with your release too.

You’re still shaking when Sukuna lifts you to move you further down his muscular body. He angles the pink tip of one of his lengths with your cunt, and you feel the other bop against your ass needily. Sliding down the thick girth is no easy feat, and he doesn’t rush you, not even when his hips beg him to thrust up and bottom out. 

Moans fill the room when you sink all the way down and your head tips back. The mouth on his stomach seals itself shut, then quickly reappears near his pelvis. You’re about to tell him how uncanny it is that he keeps making it move, but your words fall short when it flicks its tongue over your hypersensitive clit.

There are too many hands to count roaming over your body. A pair pawing at your ass and urging you to bounce on him faster, and another set squeezes your tits and rolls the hardened buds of your nipples between his fingers.

Sukuna stares up at you in awe as you ride him. The light above your head forms a halo around your hair, making you look otherworldly and the sounds you make have him believing that you were some sort of fallen angel who has come to drag him to the depths of hell in condemnation for all his sins.

Your hand goes behind you, curling around his neglected cock, and he makes a sound he didn’t even know he was capable of. Your walls squeeze unbelievably tight around him as you cum not too long after him, and his hands band around you before pulling you down so he can kiss you again.

It takes a while for the two of you to stop shuddering, and only when your lips are utterly kiss-bitten and too numb to continue, do you slide off him and land at his side with a huff. 

Sukuna is still trying to catch his breath when a thought clicks into place. He was more than happy to lock you in the deepest dungeon he had so you’d never see the light of day again, but after all that, he could think of something better.

Better for him, that is.

He rises from the bed and starts to put his robes back on. “You’ll be moved into the Ruby Palace tomorrow.”

He hears you sit up, and he doesn’t have to turn around to know your eyes are probably bulging out their sockets. 

“What?!”

Your exclamation makes a pleased smile curl his lips. 

While the Rose, Jade and Emerald palaces housed all the concubines, the Ruby Palace has always been vacant.

Because it was reserved for whoever Sukuna would pick as his empress.

With an about turn, he meets your stare and offers you a mocking smile. “You’ve touched what’s mine and believe me, I’ve killed men for less. So, be happy that your emperor is generous enough to award your insubordination with a title instead of an execution, hm?”

Your mouth opens, but he’s already pulling the door open. There’s a heavy thud of something hitting the wood and a string of colourful expletives follow him as he walks back to his quarters with a spring in his step. 

Hm, maybe late-night walks really were relaxing.

It's been a month since you moved into your house. You're a homeowner now, and the thought of it still shocks you to this day. You decorated your house as you desired and envisioned, and you're satisfied with the results. However, since you moved from an apartment to a fairly big house, you can't help but feel lonely.

You don't have to worry about being too loud when walking around your house, or when you're vacuuming and talking on the phone. But it's a bit too quiet for your liking. Sure, you can blast music as loud as you'd like, but you crave companionship. You could always ask Tara to move in with you and be your roommate, but the idea of a roommate isn't something you're used to.

So, you ended up adopting five cats of different breeds. You adopted a Ragdoll cat named Xavier, a Maine Coon named Zayne, a Devon Rex named Rafayel, a Caracal cat named Sylus, and a brown Tabby cat named Caleb. All five male cats who love you more than the treats you give them, surprisingly. Every day, you wake up to all five of your cats sleeping around you. They certainly keep you on your toes, and it's never a dull day when they're around. You couldn't be happier with your decision to adopt five adorable cats.

But sometimes you regret it because imagine waking up at the ass crack of dawn to one of your cats screaming in your face for food. You love sleeping, especially when you don't have to show up to work. Sometimes, you would wake up in the middle of the night to one of your cats stepping on your face. But that's not the most painful part. Have you ever had a single paw on your boob? Somehow, Caleb would put his entire weight on a single paw when he's stepping on your boob. He wouldn't move; he would stay there for as long as he liked.

"Meow."

You ignore the meow, trying to fall back asleep.

"Meow." But this time, the meow is accompanied by a small tap on your nose from a paw.

You know who it is. Rafayel loves meowing in your face to wake you up from your slumber. Just as you're about to drift off to sleep, Rafayel bats your face with his tiny paws, making you flinch and groan. That seems to satisfy Rafayel as he continues to paw at your face, softly meowing.

"Mmm… not now, Rafayel. I'm still sleeping," You mumble, pulling your blanket over your head.

That seems to annoy Rafayel, seeing you pull your blanket over your head so he wouldn't be able to paw and meow in your face while trying to sleep. But how dare you let him starve?! He hasn't eaten anything in hours, and you're over here sleeping?! It's like you want him and the other cats to starve and die!

Rafayel looks over at the other cats in the room. They're all scattered around your bedroom—Zayne's grooming himself on top of a cat tree, Xavier's napping in his bed, Sylus's licking his paws at the edge of your bed, and Caleb's pawing at the little trinkets on your desk.

Why are they not doing anything about this? If it weren't for Rafayel, the others would've starved as well! Sensing Rafayel's irritation, Sylus crawls under the blanket and makes his way towards your face. Sylus stares at you, blinking. You're sleeping, buried under your blanket to avoid Rafayel's rude wake-up call. Sylus purrs, gently nudging your face with his, startling you awake.

You crack your eyes open to see Sylus blinking at you. You rub your eyes, eyebrows furrowing. You finally come out from underneath the blanket, much to Sylus and Rafayel's satisfaction. Rafayel nudges his face against yours, purring loudly while Sylus starts climbing on top of you.

"God, Sylus, not now. You're heavy," You mumble, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

As always, Sylus ignores your comment and proceeds to lie on top of you, kneading your chest while purring. Seeing that you're still not getting up to give him his breakfast, Rafayel paws at your face again.

"Meeeeow," Rafayel protests, almost glaring at you for still being in bed and not pouring his precious food into his food bowl.

You look at Rafayel. "Why are you yelling at me? It's only," You peek at the clock on your nightstand. "It's four in the morning, Rafayel! Goodness, you're an early bird, aren't you?"

"Meeeeeeeow," Rafayel replies, rolling over on his back, purring and looking up at you.

You sigh in defeat, looking up at the ceiling and questioning yourself why you thought it was a great idea to adopt more than one cat if you cherished sleep so much. But you love them, and you sure hope that they love you too. After what felt like an eternity for Rafayel, you finally decide to get up from bed.

"Alright, alright, let's feed you guys before Rafayel screams in my face for not doing so," You mumble.

Just as you're about to leave your room, you trip over Caleb. Caleb jumps and scrambles to the other side of your room. You prop your hands on your hips, closing your eyes. It's too early for this.

"I'm so sorry, Caleb," You softly coo at Caleb, kneeling on the ground as Caleb approaches you.

Caleb stands on his hind legs and rubs his head against the palm of your hand, purring. It's almost like he's telling you that he accepts your apology. You cup his tiny face in your hands and press kisses on his cute little face, earning a loud purr from Caleb.

"Meow!" Rafayel cries out, nipping at your ankles.

You flinch. "Ow! Dammit, Rafayel!"

Rafayel's ears pin back on his head, his pupils becoming huge. Oh, hell no. You know that look way too well. Rafayel's tail starts swaying as he crouches, shaking his butt as he stares at you with anticipation.

You immediately stand up, pointing at Rafayel. "Rafayel, if you bite me again, I will not give you any breakfast until nine in the morning!"

"Meow!" Rafayel protests.

Zayne and Xavier walk up to where you, Sylus, Rafayel, and Caleb are standing. Zayne raises his paw and lightly hits Rafayel's back. Rafayel's head snaps in Zayne's direction, hissing. Zayne doesn't react, but continues to stare at Rafayel, unamused with his behavior.

"Mew?" Xavier asks, tilting his head to the side while staring at you with curiosity and worry. His big blue eyes mesmerize you. Goodness, he's such a pretty cat.

"I'm okay, Xavie. I hope you slept well, little guy," You coo, petting the back of Xavier's ears, earning a loud purr from the Ragdoll cat. "Alright, let's get you guys something to eat before Rafayel screams at me again."

You walk to the kitchen with your little army of cats following behind. You put five cat bowls on the kitchen counter, pulling out the dry cat food from the kitchen cabinet while the five cats stand behind you, watching you prepare their food.

Rafayel jumps on the counter, leaning forward to try to get a taste of his breakfast, but you immediately grab him. "Meow!" Rafayel protests, wiggling in your grasp.

"Not now, Rafayel! Be patient like the others!" You scold Rafayel before putting him back down on the ground.

"MEEEOOOW!" Rafayel screams, rubbing his body up against your calves while you're measuring and pouring dry food into their bowls.

Zayne sits on the counter, watching you pour food into their bowls while licking his paws. You reach out and pet his ears. Zayne paws at your hand and proceeds to jump on your shoulders, his tail wrapping around your neck like a scarf.

"Alright, breakfast is ready!" You mutter, grabbing their food bowls and placing them in designated areas where they wouldn't eat from each other's food bowls.

Zayne gets his food first because he's been well-behaved. Next is Rafayel because, despite his impatience, he's the one who makes sure you feed him and the others, or else you'll sleep in and forget to give them breakfast like that one time.

You grab Sylus, Xavier, and Caleb's food bowls, placing them on their feeding mats. You watch them happily chomp away. While they're eating their breakfast, you quickly refill their water bowl before making breakfast for yourself.

That's your new routine ever since adopting five cats. You love them all so much, and they love you just as much as you love them. Probably not as much, but who knows? It's not like you speak cat. Just when you thought you were adjusting to having five cats living at your house, life decides to throw another obstacle in your direction.

You stumble through the door, accidentally slamming the front door behind you, and startling your poor cats. You're exhausted, and you just want to go to bed. But your babies need to be fed. You opted to buy them an automatic feeder, but the one you've been eyeing is currently sold out, and you're not entirely sure when it'll be restocked.

You take your shoes off and put them on the shoe rack, petting Caleb and Sylus as you walk towards the kitchen to prepare their dinner. The five cats follow behind you, their tails high in the air.

You collect their food bowls, grab the dry food from the cabinet, and begin scooping a certain amount of food into the bowl. Rafayel does his usual routine of meowing, attempting to take a bite of food from Xavier's bowl, only for you to grab him and put him on the ground.

"Meow! Meow! Meow!" Rafayel babbles, standing on his hind legs to get a glimpse of the food being scooped into the bowls.

You shake your head. "I know, Rafayel. I'm sorry for being home later than usual. I was caught up at work. But no need to worry," You murmur.

After feeding the cats, you leave to take a much-needed shower. Today's been rough on you, and you want to crawl into bed as soon as possible. But not without showering because there's no way in hell you're climbing into bed while smelling like the outside.

You shower for fifteen minutes, change into comfortable clothes, and start and complete your nightly skincare routine. While you're preparing for bed, the cats gather outside the bathroom door, waiting for you. Xavier paws at the door, meowing softly while eyeing the door in hopes that you emerge from the bathroom soon.

"Meow…" Sylus claws at the door, as if he's knocking to let you be aware of his presence outside the bathroom.

"Mrow?" Caleb lies on the ground, sticking his little paws underneath the door, reaching around.

You snort, watching Caleb's tiny paws swiping on the ground, his paws spread wide. You kneel and grab at his paw, startling the poor cat. You snort, unlocking the door to face the five cats waiting for you.

"I guess we're all ready for bed?" You murmur, turning the bathroom lights off and stepping over them to make your way to your bed.

You crawl into your bed, getting underneath the covers. Sylus, Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, and Caleb hop on your bed, finding the perfect spot to lie on. While you're situating yourself, each cat plops around you, making sure a part of them is touching you somehow.

"Goodnight, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Xavier, Caleb," You whisper, looking at each cat. They stare at you, blinking slowly before closing their eyes. You're itching to reach for your phone to take pictures of how cute they are, but you're so comfortable. Instead, you close your eyes and drift off to sleep.

The next day, you wake up to the sun shining in your face. You squeeze your eyes shut, burying your face in your blanket to block out the sunlight. Strange. Usually, you wake up to Rafayel meowing in your face and pawing at you to wake up, but this time, it's the sun that's waking you up.

Shit. What time is it!? You jolt up in your bed, frantically reaching for your phone to check the time. It's nine-thirty in the morning. Fuck. Rafayel and the others are not going to be happy that their breakfast is five hours late! You try to toss your blanket off your body, but something's blocking you from doing so.

You look to see five men occupying the space where your cats were sleeping. Five tall, handsome men. You let out a choked gasp, waking up the five men lying on your bed.

You stumble back, pointing at them in horror. "Who are you people and how did you break into my house?!" You demand, trying to sound intimidating, only for it to come out as a pathetic stutter. "Did I forget to lock the front door last night? There's no way…"

"Relax, [Y/N]. We're the same cats you adopted. There's no need to freak out. What you should freak out over is the fact that it's almost five hours past our breakfast," The purple-haired man says, crossing his arms over his chest with a pout.

"Rafayel…?" You whisper.

His ears perk up. "Well, duh! It's rude to forget to feed us, you know?"

The white-haired man chuckles. "Rafayel, you're usually the one to wake her up to feed the rest of us. If anything, the person you should be upset with is yourself, not [Y/N]."

Rafayel glares at the man, his bottom lip jutting out. You look at each man on your bed, gradually recognizing who's who by looking at the ears on their heads.

"What's on your mind? You look conflicted," Caleb says, tilting his head to the side.

You poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue. "That means I'll have to make you guys human breakfast, not give you guys the usual dry food for breakfast," You murmur.

"I can help you cook, if you'd like?" Xavier offers, gazing at you with those sweet eyes of his.

Oh, heavens, he's so cute. Having Xavier help you cook food? He just turned into a human. Would it be a good idea to let him cook? Before you can decline his offer, Xavier's already giving you those hurt puppy dog looks, as if he knows you're going to reject his offer.

You sigh in defeat. "Alright, you can help me cook. But only put in the ingredients when I tell you to, alright?"

Xavier smiles, nodding. "You're the boss."

You get up from your bed, walking to the bathroom to start your day before cooking breakfast for everyone. It's so odd not waking up to Rafayel's meows and paw swiping at your face to wake you up at four in the morning for breakfast.

Waking up to five men with cat ears and tails is certainly strange, and sounds like something from a fantasy movie. Or some manhua you've been indulging in at an unhealthy level. Perhaps you're in a manhua yourself?

Or, better yet, an otome game where you're the female lead who just so happens to unknowingly adopt shape-shifters into your home, and they turn into handsome men. That makes more sense than the fantasy movie assumption. Where did you get that idea, anyway?

A knock at the bathroom door pulls you out of your thoughts. You blink, now looking at yourself in the mirror with your toothbrush sticking out of your mouth, the toothpaste foaming in the corner of your lips.

"Sweetie, are you alright in there? You've been in the bathroom for fifteen minutes," Sylus says from behind the door.

You quickly rinse your mouth and toothbrush, wiping your mouth with your towel, and turning off the faucet. "Yeah! Sorry, I-I was distracted," You say, opening the bathroom door and coming face to chest with Sylus.

Goodness, this man is tall. You have to tilt your head all the way back to make eye contact with the Caracal cat. Man. Sylus crosses his arms over his chest, his eyebrows furrowing, his ears twitching.

"What could be taking your attention away from us, Sweetie? There's nothing interesting in that bathroom, last time I checked," Sylus comments, raising an eyebrow at you.

You're surrounded by handsome men who have cat ears. You might as well take advantage of that, right?

You raise an eyebrow back at Sylus, leaning against the doorframe. "Why do you sound pouty, Sylus?"

Sylus scoffs. "Pouty? I'm not pouty."

You nod. "You sounded pouty, Sylus. No need to deny it. Maybe it's the hunger that's making you pouty," You reach out and poke his chest.

Sylus looks down, staring at your finger that's poking his chest, before slowly looking at you.

You reach up and gently pet his ears, "Come on, let's go to the kitchen. I need to make breakfast for all of you before you become even more pouty than you already are." You brush past Sylus, leaving him standing there in a trance.

"And a pinch of salt," You murmur, watching Xavier sprinkling salt into the cooking pan.

Xavier's focused on following your instructions, fearing that he's going to mess up and accidentally give you food poisoning. While you're teaching Xavier how to make breakfast, the other men are standing around in the kitchen, watching and sometimes assisting you as well.

Rafayel rubs his tummy, "That smells really good. I'm getting hungrier than I already am," Rafayel comments, now standing behind you to peek at the food sizzling in the pan.

"Don't worry, food's about to be ready," You reply, beginning to reach out to grab a plate, but Caleb beats you to it and hands the plate to you.

"Not to brag or anything, but I'm the best cook out of everyone here," Caleb says, leaning against the kitchen counter.

You pause momentarily. What does he mean by the best cook out of everyone? You're too hungry to ask questions, so you let it slide for now and begin handing out breakfast to everyone. Rafayel nuzzles his face against your neck, purring.

You squeak, tensing up. You're sensitive in your neck, and feeling him rub his face against your neck makes you feel ticklish. Rafayel pauses and stares at you curiously, amusement glimmering in his eyes.

"Thank you for breakfast, Cutie~!" Rafayel says, pinching your cheeks before walking to the dining table with his plate of breakfast.

"I helped, too, you know," Xavier interjects, his ears flattening on his head as he glares at the back of Rafayel's head. "I did well, right?" Xavier turns to you.

You giggle, gently petting his ears and nodding. "Yes, Xavier. You did really well, and I am proud of you."

Xavier's ears perk up before happily walking to the dining table with his plate of breakfast. You shake your head, turning the stove off and putting the used utensils into the sink, letting them drown in water before walking to where the others are sitting.

It's strange, you know? After living alone for some time, and having guests over here and there, it's strange to sit and dine with more than one person in your own home. You're used to the chomping and meowing from your cats, but now your cats are human men.

You watch them while they eat the breakfast you and Xavier cooked together. The way they use cutlery wasn't clumsy, nor did it seem foreign to them. It's almost like they were always human, and never a cat before today. They're chattering among themselves, sometimes looking over in your direction to see if you're eating.

"Are you alright? You're not eating your breakfast," Zayne says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Are you not hungry around this time?"

You rub the back of your neck. "I'm alright. I'm still processing the fact that the five cats I adopted are all human-cat hybrids in front of me right now, having breakfast with me," You reply before taking a bite of your toast.

"You'll get used to it the more time passes. I know it's a shock, and I apologize that it happened so suddenly. We didn't expect to turn back into humans so soon." Caleb says, wiping his lips with the napkin.

'It happened so suddenly,' Caleb says. So this isn't the first time they turned into humans? Or a cat? A million questions pop up in your head as you continue to eat your breakfast.

"What's going on in that noggin of yours, [Y/N]? If you have any questions for us, we're willing to answer them," Caleb says, crossing his arms over his chest. "We have nothing to hide."

Immediately, your breakfast is forgotten because you have a lot of questions that need to be answered. You asked, and they answered quite willingly, and they're very transparent with you.

They're originally human, but something happened—they don't know what exactly—and poof! They turn into cats for who knows how long before randomly turning back into humans. Well, a human cat hybrid.

"Wait, so, whenever I'm not home, do you guys turn into humans while I'm away?" You ask, collecting the empty plates. "How does this all work?"

"It happens randomly. Before today, there was only one incident where we all turned into humans while you were away at work. But we didn't stay as humans for long. It lasted five hours," Sylus replies.

"And you guys were already clothed every time you switched from cat to human?" You ask, turning the sink on to start washing the dishes.

"Yes, we're clothed whenever we're human," Caleb answers, raising an eyebrow at you and giving you a knowing look.

You ignore the look Caleb throws in your direction, mentally sighing in relief. Thank goodness you don't have to worry about coming home to see naked cat-men in your house. Imagine if they were naked the entire time and waking up to that. You certainly do not want to wake up to seeing abs and penises—although, you're not against seeing abs.

They're handsome, tall, and they most likely have a really nice physique. You don't need to see them butt-naked to know they're fit. You can see their physique underneath the tuxedos they're wearing.

Rafayel points an accusing finger at you. "What's with that look on your face?"

"Nothing!" You immediately say, immediately doing the dishes as fast as you possibly can, making yourself busy, or else Rafayel and the others will notice your strange behavior. Well, Rafayel is already speculating.

Zayne stands beside you, taking his gloves off. You continue washing the dishes, but you slowly look at Zayne from the corner of your eyes, watching him take his gloves off. Oh. Oh, my.. he has nice hands too.

"What are you doing?" You ask, trying to act normal.

Zayne reaches for the extra sponge and begins lathering it up with dish soap. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm helping you wash the dishes," Zayne replies, grabbing a random plate in the sink and starts scrubbing the dirty plate.

"Why don't I join in to help as well? We can't have you doing the dishes yourself. After all, you did cook breakfast for all of us, with the help of Xavier," Caleb says, now standing on your left side, sandwiching you between him and Zayne.

Zayne's ears flatten on his head, his tail poofs up and begins swaying side to side. Caleb takes his gloves off, grabs a freshly washed plate, and begins drying them with a clean rag. A low rumble emits from Zayne's chest; it's low enough for you not to hear it, but loud enough for Caleb and the others to hear.

Thanks to Zayne and Caleb, the dishes were washed and dried faster than you expected. Usually, it would take you around, maybe, almost five minutes to wash the dishes, but Zayne and Caleb made it significantly faster.

You walk to your couch, but Rafayel intercepts you. It's like he came out of nowhere. Rafayel throws his arms around you, rubbing his cheeks against yours while walking backwards towards the couch. Once the back of his knees touches the couch, Rafayel falls back, pulling you down with him.

"You're no different from your cat-self, Rafayel," You comment, looking up at Rafayel.

"Well, duh, no matter what species I am, I'm still me," Rafayel says as if that's the most obvious thing in the world.

Shadows fall over you and Rafayel, making you two look up to see Zayne, Sylus, Xavier, and Caleb glaring down at you two—mainly at Rafayel. Sylus sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose while his tail is wagging behind him, signifying that he's quite annoyed with what's in front of him.

Sylus clears his throat. "For once, can you not hog her for yourself?" Sylus hisses, now fully glaring at Rafayel.

Rafayel huffs. "What? I'm an affectionate cat, uh, person. Am I not allowed to show love for the woman who allowed me into her home?" Rafayel retorts, his tail bristling behind him.

Xavier glares at Rafayel. "You're not the only one she allowed you into her home, Rafayel. It's not fair if you try to keep her for yourself while the rest of us are third-wheeling."

You laugh nervously, sitting up and patting Rafayel's head before getting off of Rafayel, much to his dismay. Sometimes you forget that cats are territorial creatures, but they're human now! That's different, right? Again, Rafayel proved you otherwise by clinging to you like how he would when he's still a cat.

A strange noise emits from Rafayel, Sylus, and Xavier, the same noise that the others heard whenever Caleb decided to help you and Zayne do the dishes. Instead of it being loud enough for only the ones with feline ears to hear, you hear it as well.

"Guys?" You say, looking at the five of them cautiously.

You've never seen them behave this way, and when you do, it's not nearly as bad as whatever this is. Yes, you've seen Zayne swatting at Rafayel with his paws. Yes, you've seen Sylus hissing at Caleb after you gasp when Caleb pushes your trinkets off your desk. Yes, you've seen Xavier pouncing off of Sylus whenever he has zoomies.

"Let's not fight, you guys. Let's play some games instead!" You try to change the subject.

You get up from the couch and walk over to the cat toys lying around the living room. You grab a feather wand and turn to the five men, who are now staring at you, unamused.

Sylus pinches the bridge of his nose, his tongue poking out of his lips. "Sweetie, do you really think we'll play with cat toys as humans?" Sylus asks, now crossing his arms over his chest.

You shrug. "I don't know. It wouldn't hurt to test it out, now, would it?"

You slowly wave the wand in front of you, watching everyone's reaction closely. At first, you didn't get a reaction out of any of them. But the longer you wave it around, almost swinging it at this point, their feline instincts start to gradually kick in.

Their eyes are trained on the feather wand, heads moving in sync, tails wagging, ears twitching with anticipation. A smile creeps up your face, and you wave the wand up in the air, causing their heads to jerk back without taking their eyes off their targets.

It's pretty cute, you can't lie. Grown men with cat ears on their heads, denying the fact that they won't be entertained by cat toys, only to be entertained by something they refused to acknowledge. The longer you wave and twirl the wand around, the more they start to become restless.

Xavier lunges towards you, trying to swat at the feather wand. You snort, waving it away from Xavier. Xavier's ears flattened on his head when he failed to touch the cat toy you're teasing them with.

"You're going to have to be faster than that, Xavie," You sing, now twirling around with the wand before prancing around the living room with the others now on your tail.

Caleb chuckles, shaking his head. "You're having fun with this, aren't you?" Caleb asks, not taking his eyes off his target.

"I can say the same for you guys," You snort.

One by one, they all start lunging in your direction, trying to get a hold of the feather on the wand. It's hilarious and fun to see their feline instincts take over, but it's also a little terrifying because these men are 6'0-6'2 and they're throwing themselves at you—well, the wand.

Zayne stops in the middle of it all, sighing. "Let's all stop before someone gets hurt," Zayne says.

"Oh, lighten up, Zayne! No one's going to get hurt!" Rafayel says, successfully grabbing onto the feather wand. "I got it! I'm the winner, and you're all losers!" Rafayel smirks before sticking his tongue out at everyone.

The others around you grumble and roll their eyes. You release the feather wand, watching Rafayel wave it around and become entranced by the toy.

You snort, clapping your hands. "Congratulations on catching the toy, Rafayel. You did well," You coo, reaching up to scratch his ears, but he flinches away from your touch.

"H-Hey! Don't touch the ears!" Rafayel sputters, the apples of his cheeks turning crimson.

Your hands fall to your side. "Aw, but you're too cute to resist!" You tease, playfully pouting at the flustered Rafayel.

Rafayel huffs, dropping the cat toy and approaching you. He towers over you, his bottom lip jutting out into a pout—is he imitating you? Rafayel drops to his knees and gazes up at you. Something in you stirs, heat gradually rushing to your cheeks.

Rafayel reaches for your hand and plops it on his head. "There, you may pet my ears."

You cheer and begin petting both of his ears, catching Rafayel off guard. At first, he wants to protest and pull away because his precious ears cannot handle the amount of attention they're getting. But he loves that he's the only one receiving attention, unlike the other four, so he basks in your attention and affection.

Suddenly, Xavier's kneeling beside Rafayel, staring up at you like a kicked puppy. "Why are you giving him attention? There are four of us, too, you know? Though out of five cats, I'm the one that's neglected the most," Xavier says, frowning at you.

"Xavier, I would never neglect you," You say, reaching out to Xavier with your left hand to pet his soft ears. "You guys know that I love you all equally, right?"

"It doesn't seem like it," Xavier mutters.

Before you can respond, Xavier lurches forward and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you down with him. You yelp, falling onto his lap. Xavier tightens his grip around your waist, burying his face into your neck and nuzzling his face and hair against your neck and face.

"That can't be comfortable," Caleb comments, staring at you and Xavier, his tail thumping against his legs.

Xavier huffs, gets off the ground with you still in his arms, and carries you over to the couch. Xavier collapses onto the couch and situates you on his lap. "There, now we're both comfortable. Thank you for the suggestion, Caleb," Xavier says curtly.

Xavier turns on the TV, switching to a random channel. Of course, he's hardly paying attention to what's playing on the TV. He's too busy cuddling you and making sure that the others aren't touching you. Eventually, Xavier lets you go and allows you to leave your spot on his lap, even though he's hesitant and doesn't have the heart or courage to let you go.

Just as you think you're finally free and can move around all you like, Sylus traps you in his arms like a Venus flytrap. As much as you want to protest, you're not surprised about it. As Xavier said, there are five of them, and you might as well let them have their turn in holding you.

"You adapted to us becoming human quite fast, Kitten. I'm quite shocked," Sylus murmurs, resting his chin on your head and closing his eyes.

You turn to look at Sylus over your shoulder. "Who are you calling 'kitten'? Last time I checked, you're the one with cat ears on your head." You narrow your eyes at Sylus.

Sylus stares at you, amusement glimmering in his red eyes. Instead of answering you, his response to you is a simple smirk. You huff and turn back around, resting your head on his shoulders. Damn him and that handsome face of his.

The longer you stay in Sylus's arms, the more you want to drift off to sleep. Who knew that lying on top of someone is way more comfortable than lying on your own bed? You force yourself out of Sylus's arms and crawl into the next person's arms—Caleb. Technically, you're between Caleb and Zayne. They've been waiting patiently (not really), so you might as well let both of them cuddle you, right?

It's easier to cuddle all five of them when they were cats. They're much smaller, and they can lie anywhere around or on you. You remember a few weeks into adopting them, you wake up to all five cats lying on top of you, from your chest to your toes.

Now that they're human for who knows how long, cuddling with all five of them is a bigger challenge. They can toss you whenever they please, and they can scold the other person for hogging you and not giving them the opportunity to cuddle with you.

"I'm not making you feel uncomfortable, am I?" Zayne murmurs into your ears, curling up against you.

You shake your head. "You're fine, Zayne. No need to worry."

Caleb peeks at Zayne, "Having you this close to me makes me feel uncomfortable. But since [Y/N] is in between us, I'll give you a pass for now. Even though I would much rather have her for myself," Caleb sighs.

Zayne ignores Caleb's comments and proceeds to cuddle you, wrapping his arms around your waist, but slightly retracting after feeling Caleb's arms around your waist. The tip of Zayne's tail thumps against the couch, feeling mildly irritated.

"Yeah, I'm not happy about it either," Zayne grumbles, his cheek resting on top of your head.

Caleb ignores Zayne's comment and continues to press himself against you, almost like he's trying to become one with you. His tail wraps around your wrist as he nuzzles his nose against yours before rubbing your face with his hair and ears.

"You're very soft, warm, and comfortable," Caleb purrs, closing his eyes in contentment, putting all of his weight on you.

You grunt, patting his head. "So are you, but you're crushing me, Caleb."

The entire day consists of you and everyone else lying on the couch, doing absolutely nothing aside from watching TV, occasionally chatting, and taking lots and lots of naps. You know that cats sleep a lot, but you didn't think most of their feline instincts and behaviors would transfer to their human forms.

An hour or two passes by, and you wake up from your nap to get a drink of water because your throat is dry and you need to go pee. Once that's over with, you open the door to see all five of them standing outside the bathroom door, waiting for you.

"You guys aren't napping?" You mumble, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you brush past them to walk back to the living room.

"How can we nap when you're not with us?" Zayne murmurs, walking beside you. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you towards the couch, pulling the blanket over both of you.

You gesture to his and the other's tuxedo. "Are you guys comfortable wearing that all day? Does it not get suffocating at one point?"

Xavier shrugs. "Yeah, it does feel a little restricting. Why'd you ask?"

You tap your chin, nodding. "Maybe I'll buy some clothes for you guys later. I do need to take some measurements."

Totally not an excuse for you to see how big they are in certain areas of their bodies. You want to buy them clothes that accurately fit their bodies! Though loose clothing is good too, because they can freely move around without feeling their clothes clinging to their bodies.

"Sweetie, there's no need for measurements. Is this an excuse to touch us?" Sylus asks, raising an eyebrow while smirking at you.

Heat rushes to your cheeks. "Of course not! Do you guys want clothes that accurately fit your bodies, or would you like to guess and accidentally buy something that's way too big or small for your bodies?" You huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Totally not an excuse," Rafayel snorts, rolling his eyes before plopping down beside you and resting his head on your lap. "Whatever you say, Cutie. If you want to touch me, nothing's stopping you." He nuzzles his head against you, grabbing your hand and placing it on his head to stroke his ears.

"Calling me cutie when you're the one with cat ears on your head," You mutter, lightly tugging on his ear.

The day eventually winds down, and you're all in a huge cuddle puddle with you in the dead center of it all, so everyone can be able to somehow cuddle you despite the long limbs getting in the way. The show playing on your TV becomes white noise as you drift to sleep. The last thing you feel before stepping into your dreams is light kisses on your face coming from every direction.

About four in the morning, you wake up to something lightly tapping your face. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to ignore it, but the tapping persists before a loud—

"MEOW!"

—wakes you up from your slumber. You jolt and look to see Rafayel, in his cat form, sitting in front of your face, his head tilting to the side, staring at you intently. You look around, assuming you'll see the human versions of your cats, but no, they're back to their cat forms.

"Aw, and to think I was going to be able to measure you guys," You mumble.

Zayne rubs his head against your arm, pressing himself against you. Xavier crawls into your lap and lies there, closing his eyes. Sylus sits close to your feet, licking his paws before pouncing on you, making you yelp. Caleb's lying beside your head, licking your face to comfort you.

"Meow," Sylus says, sprawling out on your chest.

Maybe next time—no idea when—you'll be able to take measurements of each man to buy them clothes if and when they turn back into humans. But for now, you'll have to get used to the constant changes in their species.

"MEOW!" Rafayel protests, swatting at your face with his paws.

"Ow! Rafayel! It's too early for breakfast!"

"MEOW! MEOW!" Rafayel screams in your face, rubbing his head against your face while purring.

You glare at Rafayel, reaching over to pet his cute little head. "Rafayel, I can't get up now. You know it's the rule not to get up if cats are lying on you," You whisper, trying not to startle the others awake.

Rafayel huffs, getting up from his spot to climb on your face. You groan as he lies on your face, kneading at your face while purring. Just when you thought you were getting used to having cats, Rafayel and the others make you doubt it.

Note: I had a great time writing this, so much so that I typed out over two thousand words a day. I usually type out a little over a thousand words a day, just so I wouldn't overwhelm myself. It's a cute and fun fic, something to make up after not posting anything for LADS in a while. I need to start brainstorming for future LADS fics cause my brain's been preoccupied with another fictional man in another franchise. Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

"T-tooru?" You whisper the brunette's name, not sure if he'll hear you since he looks so immersed in the movie he's watching, eyes locked on the screen-

"Yes, baby?" Of course, he heard you. He doesn't avert his gaze to you, still focused on what's on the tv, but you know he's listening. You gulp.

Your body entangled with his, you laid between his arms as both of you faced the tv, your ass right on top of his-

"What's up, Y/N?" He now turns his gaze to you, face leaning slightly forward as his nose almost touches the top of your hair; you feel his breath against your ear. He stands so close, but it's okay; Oikawa has assured you this was normal for best friends. As well as the dark purple marks he leaves on your neck, sometimes on your chest. "They're lovebites," he says, rubbing his own neck that you've left your marks, "don't you love me?"

Of course, you do. You love him more than everything- and it's not like you dislike his lovebites, too. They feel... they feel nice. And if Oikawa said it was normal, who were you to doubt him?

"I had a- had a question." You detach your body from him, the loss of warmth and the feeling of him making your body tremble. Or maybe it's the anxiousness of what you're about to ask.

You turn around to face him, coming face to face with the soft trails of pink and red you placed on his neck (he always gets the loudest when you kiss his neck), and as always, he doesn't have a shirt on.

"Uh-huh," Oikawa raises a brow questioningly, pretty eyes narrowing with annoyance, "on with it, already." He knows how much you struggle with words, his dumb little girl, but it's okay, he can wait for your little brain to form sentences.

You turn your gaze to your fingers, tracing shapes on the sheets of his bed. You look so embarrassed; Oikawa can't help but get excited. "I have a- uhm, date tomorrow."

You admit, missing the slight frown that sits on his pretty lips.

"But I don't know how to- I mean,-" you bite your lip, your gaze so innocent and pretty as it meets his eyes, trying to gather the courage to- "How do I please a man?"

Oikawa almost chokes on his own spit, trying to hide it with a series of fake coughs. "You what now?"

"Y-you heard me!" You protest, bottom lip slightly wobbling as you have to repeat it, to your horror, maybe even explain, "how do I- umm, you know."

"I don't, actually." Oikawa raises his brows at you, smiling cruelly and relishing in how you avoid his gaze, how utterly embarrassed you stand before him. "You mean how to fuck better-?"

"No!" You exclaim, a little too fervently; it has Oikawa's grin spreading wider on his lips. "N-not that, but- uhm, blowjob, maybe-?." You finally speak the words, closing your eyes and fisting your hands; as if closing your eyes would pull you from the situation.

"You're asking me how to give a blowjob?" Oikawa repeats your question, almost about to laugh before he realizes what this means. "Wait," his eyes grow impossibly wide, a feeling of burning excitement washing down his back, "don't tell me you've never given a blowjob before."

Fucking hell, there's no way you-

Your gaze widens in embarrassment, like a dear caught in headlights, mouth opening, and closing to say something, deny it, but can't. You can't lie, not to Oikawa. "D-don't say it like that!" You say, instead.

you are.

It feels like the discovery of a century, Oikawa can't contain his excitement, a twisted one, as he leans forward, cupping your chin and tilting it up to meet your gaze better as he stands a breath away from your face. His smile wide and predatory, you wonder if you said something wrong.

"But it's true, isn't it?" He whispers, a smug smile almost kissing your lips. "Has anyone ever even touched you before?"

The question makes you whimper, you want to avoid his burning gaze but he wouldn't let you. "No." He finally get his answer, and oh- fuck, he's getting hard.

"You're a virgin?" He repeats, but it sounds more like an amusing fact he just discovered.

His thumb traces your bottom lip, swiping over it in a lustful motion, watching the way your eyelids flutter with excitement. The only light source in the room is the one from the tv; it shadows on Oikawa's pretty face- not, however, enough for you to pick up the predatory tilt of his lips.

You feel a lustful warmth bloom in the pit of your stomach, this feels d-different, but it's nice, exciting, your mouth falling agape as hot, shallow breaths fall.

You wait for a kiss, you really think he might- might kiss you, Oikawa pulls back, falling deaf to your needy whine.

"Pretty girl," he sighs, thumb caressing your cheek, almost as if what you're asking is too much. "Hasn't anyone told you guys don't like virgins?"

It takes you 4 seconds to process the words.

"Wh-what?" You gasp, oh, your eyes are getting glassy, too, what a prize to see. "But-"

"You didn't tell him you're a virgin, did you?"

You shake your head no; you look so sad all of a sudden; he probably should feel bad. But it isn't Oikawa's fault you're so dumb. "Only you, 'ru."

Fucking hell, how can you pick the one answer that'd make him want to ruin you even more? All he wants to do is to pry your legs open and fuck you till you pass out, and fuck how amazing would you look with his dick in your cunt, your face smushed against that table, drooling like the dumb bitch you are.

He should- he should control himself. Just for a few more minutes, just until he has you in the trap.

"Good- he would've left you immediately!" Oikawa laughs lightly, as if he's not telling you how insecure you should be by being a virgin. "You can't tell anyone that, okay? No one would want to take a girl's virginity; it's so much work, you know."

He says nonchalantly as you stare at him with a wide, helpless, broken gaze. "Tooru, but what am I- what am I gonna do?"

You sob, trying to be subtle about wiping the tears from the corners of your eyes when Oikawa coos at you, pulling you to his chest. "Shh, shh," he coos, hand coming up to pat the top of your head. "Okay, pretty baby, don't worry, I'll help you."

As he says that, you feel the pads of his fingers trace the skin of your tighs, right where the hem of your short little skirt ends.

"I should show you how it should feel like first," he breathes into your ear, voice just slightly strained, "so you can make me feel the same."

When you nod, he chuckles.

"What a pretty skirt," he laughs as his touch trails higher on your leg, now bordering on the soft material of your panties. "Wore just for me? Did you plan this from before, Y/N?" He teases, watching closely to see your reaction.

"N-no! I promise I haven't-"

"Of course, you havent," Oikawa rolls his eyes, "my dumb little baby, you're not smart enough to think this far, are you?"

You would've protested in any other circumstance, but he aligns the time he spits the words with when his long fingers push your panties aside, the tip of his finger grazing your folds.

Even the slight touch of him has you squirming on his lap, your head falling on his shoulder when his thumb finds your clit, rubbing the softest circles.

"Fuck, you're so sensitive," he groans, wondering if you can feel his cock pressing against your ass. Even with one finger, he has you moaning his name. "So wet, too. Just like a fucking whore- do you hear yourself?" Oikawa laughs at you, mocks you, relishing in the way you get embarrassed over the wet sounds you make, the way you moan his name.

You press your face on his neck, trying to hide your humiliation, the drool trickling from the corners of your lips leaving trails against his skin. "'m not a- mmh! Not a whore!" You muster out as he finally slides a second finger in your pussy, his thumb still circling your clit and making you squirm, jump on his lap that he has to hold you down. "Mmh- 'ru! That feels- h-ah!"

You squirm so cutely, jumping over his lap, rubbing yourself right on his cock and making his breaths fall shallow, as well. "You like this, pretty girl? Like how my fingers feel in you? Have you ever done this yourself?"

The question catches you off-guard; you heave hot breaths against his neck when his free hand grabs you by the hair, pulling with enough force to have you face him. Your eyes rolling back I your head, mouth open like a dumb girl, a silly expression settling on your features.

"Answer me." He spits, he sounds so- so demanding, you don't know what washes over you as you find yourself answering. "Y-yes."

"You do?" He smiles darkly, chuckling at your embarrassed gaze. "You're not as innocent as I think you are- you really are a needy little bitch."

You shake your head no, but why did you squeeze his finger so tight just then?

"Don't be- don't be mean, Tooru." When you- when you say that while his fingers stuff you full, Oikawa thinks you're doing it on purpose.

"Sorry, sorry," he laughs when he hears how your voice shakes. "Forgot how much of a crybaby you were. A stupid little girl, letting her best friend fuck her- don't you feel any embarrasment?"

You're getting close, he can feel it. Oikawa picks his pace, laughing when your voice gets louder, moans turning into short screams, mouth falling open as your tongue lolls out and eyes close- you look lost in bliss.

"'ru, Tooru, Tooru!" You chant his name like a prayer, your muscles tightening with what's coming, toes curling, your body putty over his lap, melting into his embrace as he fucks you dumb on his fingers. "You feel that? Come on scream my name, baby, scream my name, tell me who's making you feel this good."

"You- Tooru you make me- mmh, you make me feel so good, please!"

"Cum for me then, pretty girl." He whispers and you're cumming, body shaking and spamming violently as he holds you down, pressing you on his chest, letting you ride the orgasm out.

You stay like that, molten into him and a heaving, stupid mess for a while as he pulls his fingers out from beneath your skirt, making sure you watch him as he brings his digits to his mouth.

"Mmh-" he smiles, "tastes delicious."

You whimper.

He leans forward, pressing his lips against yours, giving you a taste of yourself. "Are you okay?"

You nod, you seem to have pulled yourself back together from the mind-breaking orgasm as your eyes sparkle with hunger.

"M-my turn?" Your gaze falls lower on his lap, widening at the sight of the tent straining his sweatpants. "Your turn." He nods, opening his legs to give you better access.

You look excited as you bend forward, placing yourself snug between his legs. As you settle on your knees, Oikawa takes a shaky breath when your fingers grab his print from over his sweatpants.

"What am I..." you raise your clueless gaze, unsure of what to do with that thing in your hands. "Should I- um, take it out?"

Oikawa smiles down at you, it's the kind that gives you shivers. "Look at you, a dumb clueless girl- take it out, baby." He whispers against your lips. "Let me teach you how to please a man."

Your eyes wander unconsciously over the view in front of you; of Atsumu, who lais over the sheets of his hotel bed, body glistening with a sheen layer of sweat, naked other than the dark-blue colored briefs he has pulled under his cock, his balls spilling over it.

You don't notice the way his hand grips his cock even harder when he sees you, your nightgown on your body not doing much to preserve your decency.

Neither of you can talk as his pants and groans are the only things that fill the silence, the blonde not looking the slightest bit of embarrassed as he lets go of his hard, leaking cock, licking the precum off his thumb.

You, on the other hand, looked more than just embarrassed, horrified, and aroused- you gulp audibly as you watch the man stand to his feet, his honey-colored eyes glinting with something predatory.

All your senses tell you to run, get away- but it's the small part of you that keeps you in your place, that part that has always wondered how it would feel like to have Atsumu's cock in your mouth.

"What are ya doing here?" He sounds so cold, so mean- you hate to admit it makes you rub your legs together.

Atsumu's voice sends goosebumps down your spine, warmth spreading in the pit of your stomach as you watch him walk to you. Every part of him naked for you to see, Atsumu's muscles that he had spent years on contract with his every step, his sculpted body you've found yourself thinking about as you had your fingers buried in yourself, causing you to take a deep few breaths, his cock bouncing against his stomach making you bite back a moan.

The realization that he's expecting an answer dawns a little too late at you; only when he reaches you, Atsumu sends you an insulting glare. "Why are ya in my fuckin' room?"

"I- I'm really sorry, Atsumu!" You squeak when he towers before you; he always had a way of making you feel so small when he was around. "I didn't- I mean, I wasn't... I mixed the room numbers!"

It takes you a few tries to get the sentence right, and fuck, does Atsumu love seeing you this helpless. When you lower your gaze in shame, but all you can see is his cock standing proud against his abdomen, which makes you panic even more. You finally focus your eyes on the door.

"Y-ya m-mixed them?" The blonde mocks you, lips curled into a cruel smile as his hand comes up to grip your chin, pushing it to force you to face his gaze. Your glassy eyes make his cock twitch against his skin. "Are you sure?"

You just give the most amazing reactions, like when you jump in your place as he forms the question, only to make you more humiliated and more humiliated you become. "Y-yes, of course, I'm sure! I didn't mean to barge into your room when you were-"

When you gasp as you realize what you're saying, Atsumu smiles widely. "When I was what?" He leans forward, almost enough to has his lips touching yours, but not quite. "When I was stroking my cock? Masturbating? Jacking-off?"

You bite your lip, you look so horrified. Do you have any idea what the sight of your teary eyes and quivering lips are doing to him?

"Yes," you whisper embarrassedly, "I'm sorry- I'll act like this never happened, I wasn't coming to your room and-"

"'a know ya weren't coming to my room," Atsumu's eyes narrow at you, "ya think I can't hear everything happening in Omi's room?"

It's so cruel, so wrong how that alone makes you clench around nothing. So all those nights Atsumu could hear-

"Ya think I can't hear Kiyoomi fucking ya every night? Ya think I can't hear your moans, your screams and your stupid blabbering, just because of some cock? Ya think I didn't hear him telling ya he was tired today, how ya whined and begged him like a little bitch to fuck ya senseless,"

You try to intervene by protesting, but his hands grasping your face squeezes tight, squishing your cheeks to prevent you from speaking.

"begging for some cock," he keeps on, "any cock 'cause yer too much of 'a whore who can't fall asleep without some cum shot down her throat?"

"You think," he whispers, his breath against your lips makes your eyes flutter closed, his chest brushing against yours, making you tremble. "ya think I can't her ya moan my name when yer coming?"

"A-atsumu-" you choke his name when his hand slides down your ching to your neck, his calloused hands touching the bare skin. "Yes, just like that," he chuckles darkly, "you moaned my name just like that."

Oh, and now you're crying. What a pathetic little girl. It might make him cum on the spot.

"Tell me I'm wrong," he dares you with a cruel smile, his hand once again closing around his cock, tip red and angry, precum oozing out, and- oh, you're drooling. "Tell me you're not a dumb little slut who doesn't need someone to fuck her to sleep, and I'll be nice."

Your eyes focused on his hand sliding up and down his cock, making more precum leak out, cock twitching beneath his touch, and you can feel your slick sliding down your tighs.

"Answer me," he growls, pulling you from your trance, "or you don't get to taste."

"I am!" It makes you blurt out almost immediately, and it's your panicked, sobbing voice that has him tipping off of the edge. Atsumu groans a choked moan. "Nothing but a pretty little face and a wet mouth, aren't ya? Get on your knees, stupid girl." He orders, curt and simple for your small brain.

When you obey, getting on your knees and looking up at him, eyes wide and teary, begging for a taste, he sneers meanly at you. "Open wide," Atsumu tells you, golden eyes looking cold and unforgiving.

You do as he says, opening your mouth as much as you can to take his cock in your throat- so big, even half of it will make you choke. The thought alone gives you shivers of pleasure.

You want him in your mouth, you want him to fuck your face, use you like a whole and nothing else, make you gag around his length and swallow his cum-

But he doesn't do any of that.

Instead, Atsumu watches your pathetic face long for his cock, trying to get him in your mouth, gasping and whining when he slaps your face away. It's so amusing how needy you are for a taste, how you cry as he jerks off in front of your face, so close- yet never enough.

He even taps the tip of his cock on your cheek, smearing the precum on your skin damp with tears, of tears he made you cry-

fuck, he's cumming.

"Pwease," you beg at him as you watch his hand pick up the pace, giving his last sloppy pumps as his balls contract, "pwease, cum in ma mouf!"

You close your eyes just in time as something hot and slimy shoots on your face, his groans and moans heavenly, and you think you might be cumming as well, his cum running down your face to your open mouth to finally have you taste him.

"Good- ah- good fuckin' girl." Atsumu pants, his hips still bucking forward as he pumps his still-hard cock for the last drops, smearing the tip on your lips to give you more. "You really are a whore." Atsumu laughs as he looks down at your dress, the part pressing against your cunt damp with your wetness.

You're still crying as his fingers run around your face, collecting his load from your skin and pushing his fingers through your lips to feed them to you. And you're so eager, to have him all, everything he can give to you- he might be getting hard again.

"Oh c'mon, prez. It's end semester." Satoru cooed, still finding the audacity to lean against one of the lockers despite the reprimand.

You stopped. Shoes placed exact centre on the grey tiles as you shot the delinquent a look. "The end of the semester is Friday. It's Monday."

Satoru grinned, pushing hand through his hair. "Always sooo dutiful. Lighten up a lil."

Sukuna heard it before you said it. Saw the trail of your eyes before you had even darted your gaze to their mess of uniforms. Satoru's blazer was tied around his waist. Toji was missing his entirely. Sukuna's belt hung low. Don't even get started on all three of their hairstyles that broke at least four regulations.

Yeah, delinquent was putting it lightly.

Sukuna was already mouthing your reprimand before it left your lips.

"Fix yourselves." Calm and controlled, coupled with that glare in your eye as you folded your arms. "Lest I file a complaint in the register."

"Over what? Looking good?" Toji teased.

You huffed. Snapping your sharp stare over to Sukuna who was all but waiting for it. Red eyes held yours in nonchalance. With a hint of something dangerously close to amusement. Admiration.

"You're the captain of the rugby team. Be an example to your teammates, Ryomen."

Oh, there's that tone he loved. That strict, smooth command that sent a shiver up his spine. He bit back a smirk.

Yeah, you all had your roles. And yours was maintaining order and, by the looks of it, eye-fucking him in the middle of the hallway.

"Yes Ma'am." He nodded, pushing himself from the locker to stand at his full height. Towering over you just to see if you'd flinch.

You didn't, of course. You never did. You held his stare with an arched brow and your chin never downturned. That's what he liked about you. A bold brat through and through.

"C'mon you two. One last class before practice." Sukuna nudged at Satoru's shoulder who was a little too preoccupied with the sliver of your thigh peeking out of your skirt. The sight clenched Sukuna's jaw, but he bit back comments in favour of wrangling dumb-and-dumber.

Halfway down the hallway, and yet, he could still feel your eyes. Pierced into his spine. He couldn't help but shoot you a glance over his shoulder. Meet that controlled stare that always rivalled his.

Guess it's the one time he let the stereotypes get to him. He wondered how much you'd keep up that bratty beauty if he had you under him.

The thought of you had grown from annoyance to arousal months ago. The perfect president with her commands as sharp as crystal and her glare prettier than them. Always proper. So poised.

He wondered what it'd take to break that little attitude.

Although, if he's being entirely honest. He was kinda into those mint manicured nails that always pointed at him. Not to mention that stare? How you tried to pretend that it never lingered on him?

He saw you again at practice. Even with the sun glaring his vision and his throat burning for water. Sweat dripping down his forehead as he chugged down a bottle.

You were impossible to miss. Even in his exhaustion. Strutting along the outer corridor. Probably on your way to file in reports while others called it a day.

He caught your stare, as he always did. Felt it creeping up his back and shoulders.

Just like in the hallway, he shot you a look. Locked eyes. Only this time, he cast you a little grin.

You turned away. Like the stubborn brat he was hopelessly attracted to.

Nothing beat the rush of a whistle whipping through the air and a successful try on the final second. 50 - 46. Another win by the skin of their teeth.

The cheers of the stadium, the flashing lights, the bruised and battered arms of teammates that tossed around each other as an excited roar ripped through haze. Yeah, nothing beat that.

Well, the celebration that came after was a close second.

Stars of the league once more, Sukuna's team was treated to relax. He'd say for once, but other than training, his band of misfits hardly did much. Slacking-off was their everyday. But at least they'd earned it this time.

The blaring cheers had blurred out into the blast of music. Rhythm and beat vibrating the college assembly hall cleared out just for them. Littered in bodies and alcohol. The coach saw to them well, organised everything with the student council beforehand since he never doubted the team once.

Flashing lights. Grinding bodies. More booze than a Shibuya pub. Sukuna migrated through, his sharp shoulders finally sagged. Spotting some of his teammate with either their tongues down throats or chugging down red solo cups still floating beer pongs.

Steering through the crowd and shrugging off a drunk Satoru who tried to harass him as per-usual, he searched for the drink table. He was far too sober for this celebration. Shitfaced and slurring was what he wanted to be by the end of the night. He deserved it for being able to wrangle the hooligans he called teammates all semester.

And then, he felt it. That stare creeping up his spine.

He glanced to the left and sure enough— there it was. Calm and collected. Calculated even out of that blazer pressed with pristine in every inch. A black dress hugged and complimented your features far better. Certainly more than three fingers above the knee. Not so dignified with a drink in your hand.

Not even your posture was refined— you leaned against the drink table. One arm still folded over you, shoulders still squared.

You stare still on him.

Oh, his night just got a whole lot better.

"How irresponsible, prez." Drawled Sukuna as he stepped up beside you. Snatching one of the cups into his large hand and propping himself next to you.

Deep maroons roved your figure. The curves and dips in all the right places. Damn, he was almost jealous of that dress.

His head quirked with the corner of his lips. "It's a good look on you."

"Don't start." You scoffed a chuckle, raising the red plastic to your lips. Was that lipstick? Red. He could get used to his favourite colour on you.

It was almost uncanny. Seeing you so relaxed. Drinking. Completely out of your element and yet still poised in every right. It thrummed something deep within him. Dark.

He watched your eyes rake over him in what he could only describe as shameless with the flashing shadows obscuring it. You asked, "shouldn't you be celebrating with your team, Ryomen?"

"Sukuna." He corrected, just to watch your eyes. Watch your shoulders that tensed all the more firmer. As if it would break conduct to call him by anything familiar.

His smirk curled higher, as he slumped back with a swig. "And nah. Not when there's a pretty girl all alone back here."

Gauging your reaction, Sukuna bit a grin into the plastic rim of his cup when he noticed you cleared your throat. Where's all that confidence now, huh?

". . .Could it be that the elusive rugby captain is flirting with me?" You mused.

Something ticked within him.

His hulking body slanted, angled towards you as he propped a forearm on the table. Watched as you turned to him, almost hesitantly.

"Could it be that the uptight princess president is entertaining me?" He returned.

Your nose curled, the lights flashed over your face just in time for him to catch the wrinkles. A smile trembled over your lips. "Princess, huh?"

"Got a problem with it?

"Watch it. I'm still your president."

"Dirty talking already?"

Sukuna watched as your breath hitched. Bickering with him often came with ease, but it was a whole different ballgame when he shifted the playing field from president and delinquent to a jock and a princess.

It was amusing, to say the least. Watching you struggle for a rebuttal. You bristled when you finally found something. Straightened your spine with that manicured finger of yours so ready to point at him as you always did—

Thump!

"What the hell!"

"Ah— sorry. Soorryyy."

Alcohol seeped into the front of your dress. Clinging to the dark fabric and permeating the shimmers. A drunken smile was your only apology.

Sukuna stood straight. Shot a glare at his wobbling teammate who'd just bumped into you and ruined that pretty dress of yours.

"For fucks sakes Fushiguro," he grunted, watching as Toji lifted his hands up in surrender and then staggered elsewhere before he could get a scolding.

Turning back to you, Sukuna watched as your jaw tightened and your hands balled at your sides. Was that a pout? Cute.

"Sorry about that," he caught himself apologising when you looked up to him with batting eyes. The light flashing over the both of you in what he could only describe as fluorescent fate.

The idea came quicker than a smother tackle.

"If you need a change of clothes. . . " he almost caught himself drawling. As he stepped forward. You didn't flinch. You never did.

But it looked like you wanted to.

"Maybe I can offer a shirt? Sure I can find one for you back in my dorm."

Your stares locked, as they always did. Rivalling, controlled. Two leaders fighting for dominance as always. Only this time, you were faltering.

He watched your shoulders sag. Your arms cross over your chest tighter. Your chin still lifted but your lips pressed in a thin line.

Sukuna would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised when you actually agreed.

You looked prettier under his cheap dorm light.

Standing in the middle of his room with your legs too pressed together and your arms folded too tight. Your stare still seeped into his shoulders as he dug through his wardrobe on the far right. Looking like a fish who willingly crawled onto land and forgot she only knew how to swim.

Sukuna's dorm wasn't anything grand. His scholarship paid for privacy, not for space. The bedroom bled into a small kitchen area on the left separated only by a small counter top. A cramped couch wedged against it. On the right was his cabinet with a door that led to the bathroom. The bed laid at the centre with a singular side-table beside it.

Small, but neat. Neater than anyone would expect some jock's room to be, he's sure.

Finally, he fished out a red shirt. He could have gone for the black, maybe the white, but that deep rouge on your lips was his favourite colour. And he wanted to see you in more of it.

"This fine?" He asked as he approached, dropping the shirt into your hands that scrambled to catch it.

You pressed your lips together. Held the clothing article up by the sleeves to observe it. Flickering your gaze between him and the red.

"It's. . . big," you murmured.

And oh, poor you. There weren't any eyes anymore to hinder him. No bubbling hallways. No delinquents and presidents.

Just a jock. And a princess.

"Well I'm a big guy, princess." His head crooked in a predatory curve as his hands shoved into his pockets. The name slipped from his tongue. Easy. As easy as it seemed to fluster you, by the looks of it.

He watched you bristle again. Chew your lip and glance at the drywall as you balled the red fabric against those once perfect manicured nails that were beginning to look like they trembled.

Cute.

"Well— yeah, that's true." You stood straight once more. Uttered something that sounded like a thank you before you shuffled to the side. Not quite putting space between the both of you. But not exactly approaching him, either.

You cast him a side eye. Brought the shirt closer like it was your new knight. Poor princess.

"Are you gonna, uh, give me a moment?"

"Not unless you want me to watch?"

Flushed. Again. Like a flustered little flower with your face blooming in heat. How odd. Where's that beautiful brat that pointed and paraded in the halls?

"What?" Sukuna drawled, taking another step forward. Towering over you as he always did. You didn't flinch. You never did.

But fuck, it might have looked cute if you did right now.

"Don't tell me that the esteemed president is actually considering it?"

His voice dripped with something other than booze. Something scarily sober. Something dangerously close to want.

Want. Yeah, he's always wanted the prestigious campus princess.

"That's— that's not what I said," you stuttered. Actually stuttered. You, the poised president with your commands as sharp as crystals and your glare prettier than them. Stuttering all because the delinquent you eagerly pointed fingers at finally got you alone.

He grinned, glinting more than the usual charm back at you. "Didn't have to, princess."

"What's with that name?"

"What?"

He was right in front of you now. Close enough to hear the stutter of your breath. Feel your nerves. The shivers. Not very perfect of you, was it?

Leaning down, Sukuna established the height difference once more. His broad shoulders casting a shadow over you as his grin loomed closer. Dangerously so.

He could smell your perfume. Cherry mixed with nervousness. Hear the stutter of your heart. Every clear of your throat as you scrambled to resurrect the status-quo. When you could stare him in the eye and shoot him a command without your knees trembling.

His murmur was low, inviting. "Seems you don't mind being my princess one bit, yeah?"

Finally, he let himself touch you. A calloused thumb stroking your cheekbone. Oddly tender. Promising something rougher.

Your eyes gaped. Wider than he'd ever seen them. Confidence drained into your wobbling knees and your hands that clung to the shirt.

He paused for the first time that night.

Watched your sorry excuse for a stare. The press of your lips. The tremor that felt foreign to your dignified strut down the college hallways. This was far from the brat he fantasised you would be when he got you alone.

Sukuna's head crooked. "What's with that look?"

"Sorry. . . . I just, uh." You chewed your inner cheek. Cute, but odd for someone like you. ". . . Haven't. Done anything like this before."

He blinked.

Spoke in that terribly stark way.

"You a virgin?"

"Must you be so blunt?"

A pink brow arched. He slowed another blink at you and watched your every move. Watched your throat bob and your shoulders sag as a shaky sigh passed your red lips. It didn't look so bold under his stare.

"Yeah— yeah I am. I don't really have time for this kind of. . . " you motioned to him and how close he was. To his hand that was now cupping your face. "Thing."

He's dealt with virgins before. Had many doe eyes and shaky hands under his belt. So why'd you go under his radar? How hadn't he noticed the signs before? He'd been so swept up by your smooth voice and controlled stare that he completely slipped the possibility that the uptight college princess was—

"Sorry if that's. Like a turn off, or something."

Your murmur cut his thoughts right off. He locked stares with you once again— or at least tried to. For once, you couldn't meet his eyes.

Sure, it wasn't what he was used to. Wasn't what he expected. But honestly?

The thought of the uptight student council president being awfully inexperienced stirred another fire within him. Something deeper. Darker.

Wouldn't it be fun to corrupt a princess?

"Hardly," he scoffed, his grin settling into an arrogant smirk as his free hand slipped down. Snatched you by the waist and dragged you against him in a rough pull.

You yelped. Dropped the shirt and scrambled your hands for the one on him instead. Damn, even the way you clung to him was pretty.

That crystal stare of yours had melted into soft edges as you batted your eyes up at him. Achingly adorable for the pain in his ass you had been for the entire semester.

Cupping your face firmer, he drew you closer. Pressing every perfect inch of you into his callouses.

His voice rumbled, "you ever kissed anyone?"

Your brows furrowed. Warmth spread through his chest at the familiar sight. There's his beautiful brat. Bristling as your fingers bunched tighter on him and you huffed.

"Obviously! I'm not that—"

His mouth shoved to yours. Rough lips sealing over your cherry ones as the hand on your waist squeezed. Feeling your softness against his jagged. Your innocence to his experience. The way you squirmed— whether trying to get closer or further, he wasn't sure. He didn't think you quite knew either.

It was funny, really. How snarky you were with that tongue of yours. Now? It trembled. Fumbled. Struggling to keep up with his kiss as he leaned into your space and flushed you into him.

Your hands slipped to the top of his shoulders. He felt your nails scratching into the skin there through his shirt. Manicure nervous where it once was confident.

The whimper was what forced him to part. Already missing your warmth as his hand on your face slipped to the back of your neck. Cupping, caressing.

"No, no. Not like that." He coaxed, dangerously soft as he peered at you through hanging lashes. His thumb traced over your pulse, reassuring. "Relax. I've got you."

He felt your body lock up against him— then ease. Felt the flutter of your heart against his and the gulp under his thumb.

No words. Just a silent stare. A small nod. Sukuna guided you back in. Still rough, but slower. His lips moulding over yours and easing you into the kiss. Giving you room to breathe. Room to feel.

The hand on your waist slipped. Arm hooking around the small of your back and hoisting you closer. Impossibly so. To feel that sigh of relief that eased out of you and the melting of your muscles.

"Atta girl," the words muffled against your lips before he could overthink them. As if it was natural to hold a pretty virgin in his hands and corrupt her with guidance. Maybe. Or maybe it was just you. The fact that he got to take control for once.

Hot kisses smeared from your mouth. Along your jaw. Down your throat. Both hands roved over your sides now. Feeling the dress that clung to you in all the right places. The body you hid under pristine uniform.

"Can't believe you were holding out on me, princess." He groaned, breath fanning your pulse. A shiver ran up his spine as your fingers delved into his messy hair. Scratching a bit on the undercut only to rake through the fluffy strands.

Your small sighs of bliss were everything to him. For once, you were quiet. No sharp reprimands. No cool commands. Just quiet. Just his. His pretty princess in his arms as his mouth poured fire into your veins.

Big hands smoothed over your hips. Venturing behind. Cupping your ass. Squeezing. Your little yelp rumbled a husked chuckle from the back of his throat.

His teeth dragged over your pulse. Nipped. "Can I?" His fingers flexed with his desire.

You nodded.

"Words." He firmed, with a small swat! to your ass just to feel you jolt again.

You squeaked. "Yes— yes."

Your thighs bundled in his hands. Fitting perfectly. Like you were made for him. With ease, he lifted you. Nudged your legs around his waist as his mouth found yours again. Hotter. Messier. Banking on your fumbling to spur the kiss into desperation as he carried you back.

Sukuna wanted to say he tossed you onto his bed. But he was gentle. Achingly gentle. Tipping you back into his sheets and roaming your shivering body with his eager hands.

He withdrew with saliva this time. Locked eyes with you to make sure you saw the sinful string. Grinned when you flushed again and tried to avert your stare.

"Eyes on me." He ushered, cupping your chin.

You struggled. You, the studious student council president, struggling to hold his eyes for once. But you managed.

He drawled. "Good girl."

Then pressed a chaste kiss to your smeared lipstick and ruined it all the way back down your neck. Tracing your shivers as his fingers slipped below your waist. Over your hips. Teasing your thighs. Until he hooked into the hem of your dress.

"Let's take care of this mess, yeah?" He muttered into the crook of your throat. Sliding the fabric up. Slow. Slower when he got to your hips. Your tummy. Your breasts— over your head. Until you were laid bare before him aside from your underwear.

Red, too.

Sukuna arched his brow. "That your favourite colour? Or is it just for me?" A hand traced down your side. Cupped it so that his thumb could trace over the corner of your bra. Right over your tit. His hands were big enough to encase them entirely.

He watched you through lidded-eyes. Watched as you tensed. As you shivered. Chewing your lip when you were unable to hurl back a rebuttal.

He could get used to this darling side of yours.

A kiss atop your breast. Then the other. He pulled one out of your bra to circle his thumb on the pebbled nipple. Only to replace it with a kiss when you grew too sensitive.

You squirmed. Whimpered. Sensitive. Guess you really were a virgin. The confirmation thrummed something dark within him. Ticked his smug smirk back to his lips that dragged further down. Over the valley of your breasts. To your tummy.

You twitched when he reached your thigh.

"Fingers or mouth?" He mumbled into the softness of your inner thigh. Long finger hooked into the waistband of your panties as he stared back up at you. "Pick your poison, princess."

"I— uhm. . ." Your breathing was shaky. Fluttered. Like a poor little bird as you squeezed your thighs together— he wedged them apart with a huff.

"Fingers. . . I think."

Such a soft croak. Nothing like the girl he knew you to be. Not a prestigious president when you were under him. Drunk on his kisses and trembling from his touches.

No, here? You were just his princess.

"Tell me what feels good," he whispered, eyes locked on yours even as you struggled to hold his stare now. Fingers slipping from the waistband to your centre. Featherlight as he stroked on your thigh. Nursed the shivers there together with his mouth in softer than expected kisses.

Before he reached your soft heat. Brushed over your clothed slit. Up, down. A small stroke of his thumb. Testing. Teasing.

The damp spot tugged his smirk wider. His thumb pressed into it. Just a little firmer. A little hotter. Stroking up to nestle under the crook of your finger. Circle just right—

You pitched a whine.

"There?" His murmur fanned your tummy. Your little nod squeezed something in his heart as he circled his thumb again. "Mmm. Y'know what that is, pretty?"

"I— Yeah. . . mnn. My clit—"

"That's right," he cooed. "Feels good when someone plays with it, huh?"

Filth dripped from every words. Sought to seep into your veins and corrupt your perfect little soul. Now wouldn't that be a sight? To taint the pinnacle of perfection you always were.

After massaging over your clothed cunt enough to soak through the fabric, he hooked two fingers into the corner of your panties. Dragged them to the side to finally— finally get a look at the other girl he'd been waiting for all semester.

Wet. Sopping. Dripping a cute little leak down your sensitive slit. All for him.

"Wet lil' thing for a virgin, aren't you?" The vibration of his voice seemed to spill more of your arousal, and he chuckled at the sight. Repeated the cycle until you squirming with a small, pitiful whine.

"I've gotcha, princess." His thumb swiped over your slick. Over your clit and slit in a slow, agonising stroke that wrecked your thighs into a squirm.

"Ryo—"

"Sukuna." His thumb trapped your clit. "I'm playing with your pussy right now. You call me Sukuna."

His free hand shot out. Ambushing your wriggles and holding you still against his mattress for his hand to work between your legs. Maroon eyes pouring heat into yours as he locked your stares. Forced you to maintain it.

"Su—" you croaked, stirring under his grip as his thumb became two fingers that stroked you oh so sinfully. "Kuna. . . mngh."

"There you go," he praised, soaking his fingers in your slick just a little more. Before he circled your slit with his index. Prodded. Tested. "If it hurts lemme know. Just. . . feel."

A kiss to your tummy. A distraction. As his thick finger slowly slipped inside. Breaching your gummy velvet that clamped around his knuckle immediately.

The sound that left you was pathetic. Nothing like the president he knew. Just his pitiful princess who squeezed her eyes shut and clambered at his broad shoulder.

He paused his hand. Waited. Feeling the pulse of your walls and the tight clamp around only one of his fingers. What a little thing you were.

"Princess," he cooed. Dragging his index out. Slow. Agonisingly slow— watching the stickiness glint on his finger before he pumped it back to the knuckle. Curled just right. "If you're clenching s'much round just one fingers how're you gonna take my dick?"

You whined. Pretty. Pathetic. Your hips trying to buck into his finger that eased into a languid pace. Steady as he worked you open. Got you used to the feeling.

So silky. So soft. Spilling all over and he hadn't even given you two yet. The sight of your pussy clenching around his knuckle grumbled a groan from deep within him.

"Pussy's so eager to get her cherry popped," he muttered, pressing another finger to your slit. Waiting, working you open. Just a little further, a little more—

Your head fell back as two of his beefy fingers slipped into you.

"S'kuna. . ." you croaked. Blinking those big eyes at his ceiling as your chest rose quick. Falling in stutters. Struggling to breathe. Your nails slipped from his shoulder to his elbow. Trying to hold him. Trembling.

"Sshhh, I've got you. Doing so good." The hand holding you down stroked up your thigh. To your side. Caressing so tenderly as his fingers pumped slow yet filthy. Stretching you out on just his middle and index. Leaking your stickiness all over his palm and wrist. Fuck.

"Messy girl." Another kiss pressed to your taut tummy. He pumped back into your squelching pussy a little harder. A little faster. When he gouged you could take it. When your moans told him you wanted more.

He observed you. The scrunch of your face. The knit of your brows and the way your lips parted. Whines mixing into whimpers mixing into moans. Thighs tense yet squirming. Into him. Away from him. Causing his fingers to bump and grind on several sensitive spots within you.

He curled. You croaked. Bucking your hips down into his palm in a display he could only describe as need. That neediness poor little virgins broke out into when they learnt what true pleasure was.

He grinned. Curled his fingers again. Searched for a spot— there.

"Fuck— there," you whined.

"Here princess? Righhttt here?" He drawled, fingers circling that gummy spot until your spine lifted off of the bed and he had to return to holding you down. "Oh, there it is." His fingers thrust. Once— twice— maddening. "That's the spot. The one that's gonna make you cum for me."

Spilling. Messily, helplessly. Your pussy soaked him with every pulse. Spasming when his thumb finally joined the mix. Flushed to your clit and stroked as his fingers found a fast pace. Pumping mercilessly and working you up to that first orgasm.

"I— 'm gonna. . . fuck, kuna—" you whimpered, teary. One hand fisting the sheets while another shot to his wrist, clinging to him feebly. "Gonna. . . I'm—"

"Gonna cum?" His grin smooched your tummy. Fingers worked faster. Stroking deadlier. Right into that spot as he swirled your clit. He watched your face. Watched you break.

"Yeah you are. Cum for me baby."

Your body bowed. Obeyed him. For once. Cunt clamping around his knuckles. Quivering into pronounced throbs as a sob crossed with a whine spilled from your lips.

Sukuna watched your body submit to the orgasm. Shaking in thralls of pleasure as your hips mindlessly ground into his hand that had long since stopped. Fingers curling and rubbing into that spot along with your pitiful grinds to ride you through your high.

His pretty president. Just a pathetic princess. Cumming all over his hand.

"There you go. That's it, just feel it. Lose yourself." He swirled your clit one more time for good measure. Just enough to feel it twitch weakly against his callous.

His fingers slipped out. Coated in your slick. He brought them to his mouth without a second thought. Watched you through the haze of your orgasm and how your eyes still tried to find his even when you were wrecked.

His tongue flicked out. Laved over your wetness as he held your stare. Made sure you watching him enjoy the mess that he had made you. The taste on his tongue. Fuck—

Sweet. So fucking sweet.

"Always knew you'd be so sweet." He huffed, breaths heaving as he took the moment to observe you. The far cry that he had broken you down into.

So pretty when you were ruined. Just as he thought you'd be.

But still speaking, it seemed.

"Sukuna. . ." you murmured, trying to look up despite your rattling thighs and your shaky breath. Your grip returned to his shoulders. Clinging to him.

"Want. . . wanna make you feel good too," your legs hooked around his waist. Squeezed. Oh fuck.

He shut his eyes. Reran your words in his hazed mind. How could he ever deny you?

"What an eager princess." His hands snatched you by the waist. Swung you over so that you squeaked at how easy it was for him to manhandle you.

Propped in his lap like a pretty thing like you should be. Slotted so perfectly and wedged against his burning bulge. Nudged just right into your messy cunt and dragging the slick all over his jeans. Seeping through and soaking into him.

His eyes fluttered. A grunt forced between his teeth as his hands splayed over your waist. Clamping down and grinding you into the rough rolls of his hips.

A large hand found your face again. Cradled it so gently while his body worked animalistically. "Yeah? Want me to feel good too? What're you gonna do for me?"

His lips fell back to yours. Smothering your answer into pretty little whines. His tongue ventured in this time. Dominating you in every way he could. Searing his mark into you. His princess. His.

"I— hngh. Kuna."

"You gonna whine like a brat? Huh?"

"Mngh."

His hand slipped behind you. Palmed your ass and squeezed it. Pressing you firm into him to spur the sparks between your crotches. Rubbing the heat into something feral until you were both bucking messily.

Hot kisses laved your neck. Over your throat. Your pulse. Sucking hickies in his wake as he caught your clit on the rift of his erection. Grinding just right until you whined his name in that prettily pathetic way again.

"Fuck," his huff fanned your jugular. "Gonna fuck that pretty pussy so good. Make her all mine."

Rough hands dwarfed yours. Encasing them as he dragged your fingers to his belt. Pressed them into the buckle with the demand clear in sight. The promise of what was to come. What he'd do to you.

Your hands froze.

So did he.

With a tender consideration so uncharacteristic of him, Sukuna pulled from your neck. Nudged you to face him. "Hey," his thumb pressed to your cheek. "You okay?"

Your eyes tried to avoid him. He saw it. Dragging your stare back to him at least three times before you finally held it again.

"I. . . I just. . . I don't know if I—"

His eyes softened.

"Nervous?" He murmured.

You stiffened. Unblinking. Before you cleared your throat and slowly, so achingly slowly, nodded your head.

Sukuna was no brute. No matter what the stereotypes said. So the little nod was all he needed before his hands slipped back to your waist and carefully pulled you off of him.

"That's okay," the assurance didn't even sound like his voice. Soft, for the elusive rugby captain everyone knew him as. "We don't have to do anything else. You did good."

A kiss to your temple. He felt you ease against him as he sat you on the edge of the bed and got up. Walked over to where you dropped the shirt he'd gotten you earlier and came back to pull it back over your head. Careful. Attentive.

The fabric fell over you. Hanging low like a dress. He couldn't help the quirk at the corner of his lips. Yeah, his colour looked good on you.

"We'll get you cleaned up in a bit. You're gonna need some water."

"I. . . thanks. Thank you."

"For being a decent human being?"

He scoffed at your big eyes. Long arms caging you in on the edge of the bed as he observed you. Your pouting lips and tear-streaked face.

Fuck. He could get used to this.

"Don't get to used to it," the tease fanned your lips. Just to hear that hitch in your breath again.

The pretty, prestigious president. His pitiful princess. All softness to his callouses and tender to his roughness.

His thumb and forefinger caught your chin. Nudged it up.

"Next time, I won't let you run away, yeah?"

A rough peck to your lips. It sounded like a threat, but when he pulled back, there was no denying it. The affection in his eyes.

The affection for you. His pretty pain in the ass.

© 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒎. no plagiarism or ai training authorised. divider: @/dollywons & @/pixopix. art cred: @/hunnismokah

To be fair, most jujutsu sorcerers have loud thoughts to match their loud personalities. You particularly remember when you first met Todo and you were on the receiving end of a mental barrage of images of some idol that you faintly recalled having seen in passing before and big ass after big ass. So you’ve long made your peace with the fact that loud thoughts come with the territory.

But when you first met Yuuji during your first year at Jujutsu High, it felt like you could hear everything he was thinking — even without accounting for the curse caged inside of him. It would get so bad that you ended your days during those first weeks of knowing him feeling dizzy. 

While Nobara has always been quick to project whatever irritation, excitement, or disgust she feels, her emotional flashes are quick to come but equally as quick to fade. Megumi’s unhealthy instinct to suppress everything he thinks and feels has always made him one of your favorite people to spend time with.

It’s Yuuji who thinks loudly and feels loudly around the clock. Before you learned how to filter out and block every stray thought you heard, it felt like you were constantly aware of Yuuji's status whenever he was within a few hundred meters. 

You knew when he was hungry, when he was enjoying something, when he was annoyed, when he was happy, when he was excited, when he was sad, when he thought something was funny, when he had to go to the bathroom, when he didn’t understand something, when he thought a girl was hot, when he was angry, when he was in pain, when he was winning at pachinko, when he was tired. 

But after so many years of training, and so many years of being his friend, his thoughts and emotions are still just as loud, but you only ever hear one if you need to in the midst of a fight — or if it’s strong enough. 

And for the past few months, his thoughts have been so strong that it feels like you’re 15 all over again. It’s not all his thoughts that are strong enough to reach you against your will, just…certain ones. 

The first time it happens, it’s so sudden that you feel like you’ve been hit over the head.

People assume that with your technique, you can hear every word going through someone’s mind. And while sometimes you do, people think both verbally and visually.

So, you’re not surprised when an image suddenly flashes in your head. After all, it’s a phenomenon that you’re more than used to. You are, however, surprised at the image. 

Because as you’re waiting in line at a bakery to order, leaning in slightly to look at the display case of pastries, you’re suddenly assaulted with the mental picture of yourself from behind, particularly the way your dress has slightly ridden up the backs of your thighs. It’s not high enough to be obscene, only enough to hint.

And to accompany the image is a deep desire — for you to bend over further, for your dress to ride up even higher, to know what’s beneath and for it to be a thong. 

You cut off the connection before you can see anymore and shoot back up to stand perfectly straight, your eyes as wide as saucers. Your heart is racing in your chest and you have to fight the urge to bury your face in your hands to hide your burning cheeks.

“Did you figure out what you want?” Yuuji’s curious voice is suddenly in your ear as he leans in over your shoulder to look at the pastry selection himself. “That ham and cheese one looks so good.”

He sounds so…unaffected, like he wasn’t just fantasizing about what your underwear looks like. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and none of it is on his face. 

“Th-the pistachio one,” you mumble, distractedly pointing at the croissant in the corner of the display case.

“Oh, you’ll have to let me try a bite!” he grins, moving in even closer to look at what else the bakery has to offer, entirely oblivious to the mental breakdown he’s caused. 

And that’s how it starts. 

You’ll be out with Yuuji and you’ll get a flash of him wondering how soft your lips are when you apply some chapstick, or of him appreciating how your neckline dips just low enough for him to see the edge of your bra when he looks down at you. 

It’s not every time you’re together, but it starts to happen often enough that you begin to prepare yourself whenever you know that you’re going to see him, just in case. And it does work. You accept that your friend seems to be attracted to you and assume that this new crush will probably go away. You’re able to shut out the thoughts as quickly as they come. 

But then they get louder — and filthier. You’re no longer seeing things that could barely be considered PG-13. 

You’re seeing your face coated in white streaks of Yuuji’s cum, your mouth open and your tongue sticking out to catch every last drop as he fists his cock. You’re seeing your ass in the air as he eats you out from behind, your own imagined whimpers and moans ringing in your ears as you grind back into his face. You’re seeing yourself from above, his hands on the backs of your knees pressing them towards your chest as your ankles dangle by his ears while you beg him to go “harder, Yuuji!” You’re seeing him yanking you into an alley to bend you over and fuck you against the concrete wall.

It’s only made worse by how casual he acts when you’re finally able to recover from whatever obscene display has been forced upon you and you can dare to look at him. He’s never flustered or lost in some fantasy. He’s never distracted. You never catch him staring at your tits or ass. You’ve never even been able to catch him with a tent in his pants. 

He behaves as if everything is normal, like he’s just your friend that you’ve known since high school. A friend who doesn’t fantasize when you’re laughing together over hotpot about spitting in your mouth or when you finally have a chance to go see Human Earthworm 6 about you swallowing his cock in a crowded theater. 

Your other friends seem to have noticed that something is off. Megumi has asked on more than one occasion if you’re coming down with something when he sees how you’ll suddenly start breaking out into a sweat. Nobara is more perceptive, immediately jumping to the conclusion that there must be a new man in your life with how flustered you’ve been lately.

There’s a sudden, sharp pang of someone else’s dismay you feel when she makes her deduction in front of your friends. 

But what you don’t know how to tell her is that this new man is Yuuji, and the reason you’re so flustered is because every time you see him, he’s been unknowingly projecting graphic pornography featuring both of you directly into your mind. And even worse, you don’t know how to tell her that you’ve started to look forward to it. 

At first, you thought the reason why you would get so wet was because Yuuji doesn’t just share what’s running through his mind, but also what he’s feeling. Your arousal is really just his arousal. 

But that doesn’t explain why you’ve found your eyes lingering over his broad shoulders when his back is to you or appreciating the sight of him shirtless and sweaty after training together or wondering what it would feel like to have two of his thick fingers buried knuckle deep in your slick cunt. 

And you’ve started to realize that he doesn’t even need to be around for you to end up yourself lost in a fantasy of your own making. 

You’ll be scrolling through your phone and your mind will drift to how it would feel to look down and see Yuuji beneath you as you ride him, your palms pushing down against his bare chest for leverage with every rock of your hips. You’ll be sitting on the couch and wish that Yuuji were with you so you could climb into his lap and desperately grind against him until you both come in your pants as you let out needy little whimpers against his lips. 

You’ll be in bed late at night with your hand buried between your legs, your fingers sliding in and out of your dripping pussy while you grind the heel of your palm against your clit, and mourn the absence of his cock. 

After months of this ongoing torture, your sanity is about to snap. It feels like every time you’re together, if it’s not his fantasies that you’re seeing, it’s your own.

But then you notice a change. Because where you’ve started to feel less flustered every time one of these images is playing in your mind — so desensitized to them by this point that they leave you turned on more than anything else — he appears to be growing more flustered in your presence. 

There are times when he can’t quite meet your eyes. You’ll look over at him and see that his cheeks are suddenly as pink as his hair. There’s one time where he starts to choke on the soda he’s in the middle of drinking for no apparent reason. You finally start to catch him staring longingly at your ass. 

You begin to wonder if he’s close to reaching his breaking point. 

It’s what you find yourself contemplating one night as you and Yuuji get caught in the rush hour crowd on the subway. He’s strong enough and thoughtful enough to have pushed a path through when you boarded, so that you can lean back against the set of doors on the opposite side. He rests his forearm above your head on the window, using his body to shield you from the rest of the crowd. 

It’s an awkward situation for two friends to be in. For as much room as he tries to leave between you, people continue to get on at each station, and eventually, there’s no space left — you can feel every firm inch of him pressed against you.

He seems to be more conscious of it than you, his eyes directed nervously up at the ceiling. You’re just relieved that it’s him invading your space and not some creep who’s ready to take advantage of the close quarters. 

Thankfully, most of the station platforms are on the same side as where you entered the train, so neither of you have to worry about moving or the doors you’re both leaning against opening. With Yuuji seemingly feeling too shy to talk while you’re in such an intimate position, your mind begins to wander.

What if you turn around? Yuuji would feel every one of your curves as you reposition yourself so that your tits were pressed against the window and your ass slots perfectly against his crotch. You could take his free hand in yours and slip it under your skirt and between your thighs so that he could feel the wet spot in your underwear.

Actually, in this fantasy, you’re wearing no underwear. God, the groan he’ll let out when you slide his fingers up your legs, only to find that there’s no barrier between his touch and your soaked pussy. 

His cock would be so hard against your ass as you give a slow grind into it, able to feel every solid inch even through the fabric of your skirt and his pants. But you can’t waste any time — the doors supporting you both could open at any of the next stops. 

So, while you flip up your skirt, he rushes to shove his pants and boxer briefs just far enough so he can pull out his cock with one hand. And that one hand is then quickly slapped over your mouth to muffle your cry when he slides his cock into your sopping cunt in one smooth stroke. 

He takes you so roughly that you can’t tell if it’s the train that’s so jerky or the punishing rhythm he sets, desperate to get you both off before someone either catches you in the middle of your illicit act or you enter a station where the platform is on your side of the car. 

It’s just as you slide your hand down between your legs to furiously rub at your clit that the fantasy comes to a screeching halt with all the force of someone hitting the emergency brake on the train. Because you’re suddenly incredibly aware of something hard between you. 

You look down, but it’s pointless with how close Yuuji is — pointless because you can’t see beyond his chest and yours, and pointless because what else could it be other than his cock? You then look up at him with hooded eyes to see how red his face is.

He looks pained, his features scrunched together, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and a bead of sweat running down his neck that you want nothing more than to catch with your tongue. You tilt your head to the side curiously, wondering why he’s so distressed. Obviously, he’s feeling embarrassed, you don’t need to be able to read his mind to know that. But this seems to be something beyond simple embarrassment. 

Feeling your gaze on him, he eventually opens his eyes and gathers the courage to look down at you. Your breath catches in your throat when you see how wide his pupils are, his warm brown irises merely a thin ring around them, and how you can see a mixture of deep hunger, desperation, and pleading. 

“I’m begging you,” he says. His voice is barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of the train as it continues to run along its track, but it’s impossible to miss the rasp to it. “You have got to stop doing that. You’re killing me.”

Your forehead wrinkles as you frown in confusion, trying to understand what he’s talking about. But then he lifts his free hand, the one you had just been fantasizing about having between your legs, and taps his index finger meaningfully against his temple, and you gasp so loudly that you know other passengers have turned to see what’s happening. 

Because over the months where Yuuji has been projecting his thoughts, unaware that they’ve been loud enough that you can’t help but hear them, it never occurred to you that a longer-lasting connection was slowly forming with every image, every word, every emotion. Your mind became so open to receiving what he was unknowingly sharing that you hadn’t realized that you were slipping into his mind the way you used to do with others when you were younger and still learning the basics of your technique. 

And what you grew to understand as you developed it was that if you don’t form a barrier to protect what’s in your mind, then the connection becomes reciprocal and your target can see everything that you’re thinking, too. 

Which means that for the last few months, it’s not only him who’s been projecting graphic pornography featuring both of you directly into your mind, but also you who’s been projecting graphic pornography featuring both of you directly into his mind. 

All you can do is stare up at him, your mouth opening and closing as you struggle to find the words. Unfortunately, while you’ve lost your ability to speak, your mind refuses to quiet and all you can think of is how you want him to stick his fingers in your mouth.

"well, well, look who's awake," the one with dark hair remarks at the sight of your consciousness.

you jolt, legs peddling you away from them until your back hits the headboard. you're staring at them with wide eyes, gaze flicking between each face as you take in your situation— it seems the owners of this little cottage have finally returned. the only thing is you didn't expect them to be so… burly.

the one with pink hair is watching you suspiciously, narrowed eyes tracing over your figure as he lets out a displeased hum. "you the one who ate my food?" you stammer out a response that's less of a word and more of a squeak of confusion. "left theirs alone, but my fuckin' bowl's empty," he clarifies.

"well… the others were either too hot or too thick…" you explain meekly. and that pulls a smirk out of each of them, a sharp laugh from the one with white hair who's been quiet until now.

he pipes up again, bright eyes shining down at you with a mischievous glint, "and the last one was what, just right?

"she thinks she's goldilocks or something," the one with pink hair mumbles again, the one with black hair chuckling beside him.

your brows knit as your gaze switches to him, "oh, no i don't have any gold, i'm sorry." his mouth pulls into a straight line, eyes squinting further. you're not sure why he looks so peeved, but the man with snowy hair is laughing harder now.

"like the fairy tale, y'know? goldilocks and the three bears." he clarifies, to which you just shake your head at him. "it's alright. how'd you get here anyways?" he asks.

"well, i was just on my hot girl walk, and i must've missed some signs but then i saw this place and it looked cute," you state with a shrug.

"so you just waltzed in?" the man with tattoos shouts, "that's breaking and entering, you know."

your hands fly up in surrender, "i didn't break anything, i swear!"

"hey, ease up on her," the man with black hair chimes in finally.

wide blue eyes are locked on you, paired with a wide grin, "we were just on our hot bear walk, which is why we weren't here."

"bear?" you question, head cocking to the side, but then it clicks. "ohhh, like the story," you giggle, "that's funny."

he looks proud that you liked his joke, but the mean tattooed one doesn't look amused in the slightest, ogling the two of you with a disapproving, baffled expression. tweedle dee and tweedle dum.

a heavy tension settles over the four of you, only finally being cut when the man with snowy hair claps his hands together loudly. "i've got it!" he announces, everyone now staring at him quizzically. "let's let goldilocks decide for herself which one of us is juuust right," he says cheerily.

it was a stupid idea. one proposed by a stupid man who was too horny for his own good, considering he lives in the middle of the woods and likely doesn't get many women stumbling upon his home— and definitely none as cute as the one they found in his roommate's bed.

but still, everyone must've been feeling the same way since a few pleasantries later and you're straddling satoru, knees on either side of his thighs, hands on his shins. he's got one hand around the base of his freed cock and the other on your lower back as he lines himself up with your cunt. you lower yourself, little by little, gasping when the tip of his cock prods at your dripping entrance.

"just like that— keep goin' baby," he coos from behind you, hand sliding to your waist to give it a soft squeeze. a shudder courses through your body as the head slips inside. "fuck…" satoru rasps, entranced by the way your cunt sucks him in, lips spreading and closing around the mushroom tip as you sit yourself onto him.

he lets you take your time, lets you adjust to the curve of him with each buried inch— he likes how slow you are, how you're taking your time, quivering slightly with pleasure and uncertainty. he likes the way you crane your neck to look between your thighs, only to let out a whine when you see how much there is left to go.

sukuna and toji like it too. now, if you were riding either of their cocks, they would have slammed their hips up into you ages ago— ever the impatient ones, but you're not. you're riding satoru, which means they're free to chase the release they want. spit soaked hands wrapped around each of their cocks, stroking languidly as they watch you closely. the weight of their gazes is impossible to ignore, drawing a flush to your cheeks and a burning between your thighs.

your eyes slide shut, head falling back as your mouth parts, soft pants falling from your lips as you sink lower until he hits that spongy spot inside you. "o-oh, fuck," you whine, fingernails digging into his pale skin, making him hiss between his teeth. the hand that was gripping his base moves to your back, caressing softly as he hums, "doing so good— half way there, sweets."

"h-huh?" you stutter out, neck snapping down and eyes shooting open as your brows knit together in confusion. until you see he's right. your gaze finding the place where your bodies meet, just to see how much longer you have to go until you can take all of him.

condescending snickers float through the air around you, the two other men finding your reaction amusing. their eyes meet in silent communication, a wordless bet between the two about whether or not they think you'll ever be able to take all of him. your breath trembles, your cheeks burning and thighs clenching as you avert your eyes from their burning stares.

satoru can tell you're flustered by them, if not by the way you're obviously embarrassed, but by the way you're clenching around him, pulling a strangled sound from his lips. "can't tell if you're bothered by them, or if you like it," he murmurs, thumb tracing along your soft skin.

"she likes it," toji chimes in confidently.

"that true?" satoru asks you.

"course she does," sukuna answers for you, "bet it's half the reason she's soakin' your cock right now."

you blush brighter, head tilting to look at him with a sharp glare that just makes him smirk, because he knows that you know he's right. everyone can see it, the way your slick is glistening, pearly droplets now sliding down satoru's shaft— the part that has yet to be buried inside you.

"see, she's fuckin' dripping now," he remarks again.

toji hums in agreement, fist tightening slightly around his girth, "go on— wet enough to take all of him now, aren't ya?"

your eyes clamp shut, shaking your head. "i can't—"

"you can," toji cuts you off, "said you'd fuck all of us— don't act like that cryin' pussy can't take one lil' cock."

"not little," you whimper, "'s too long."

and if only you could see the way satoru's chest practically swelled with pride at your admission, but all you saw was the unimpressed look on sukuna and toji's faces, one that told you they didn't care.

they didn't care that their eyes were making you clench harder around satoru's length, making it more difficult to let him in, nor that he really was so long— your eyes widening like saucers when you saw him free inch after inch of his pale, veiny shaft. only now, everyone's already been waiting long enough for the show to start, a sense of boredom starting to creep in on your two voyeurs.

satoru's hips twitch beneath you, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he fights not to buck up into you. he wants to let you set the pace, be in control so you can feel more comfortable before you have to deal with toji and sukuna… but even sweet, sweet gojo has his limits, and he can feel his resolve fraying with each contraction of your slick, gummy walls around his cock.

"c'mon, it'll feel good, trust me," he urges you on, wiggling his hips again. each little movement shimmies you down a little further, your breath hitching in your throat when his tip finally pushes further than you've ever been filled before.

you swing your arms behind you instead, stretching your stomach as you arch your back. taking a deep breath you finally release the tension in your quads, letting yourself slide the rest of the way until your ass is pressed up against satoru's pelvis, every bit of his pride settled deep inside you.

toji and sukuna wordlessly pick up the pace, hands moving in sync, faster, tighter at the sight of you. back bent and chest up as you let your head hang back, a sigh of pleasure and relief falling from your glossy lips. your nipples pebbled, skin dewy, and your cunt— the prettiest pussy, all sticky and glossy and stuffed to the brim.

"told ya, doll— slutty hole sucked in every inch," toji drawls, the baritone of his voice accompanied by the wet sound of his fist wrapped tight around his dick, "go on, ride him."

you roll your hips, getting used to the feeling of satoru inside you, the feeling of him rubbing along your walls, his tip prodding in new territory making you moan. he meets your movements, feet planted on the bed so he can fuck up into you at your pace— slowly at first, hands smoothing up your back, gently caressing your waist in a way that makes you melt. a way that makes you think surely he's nicer than the other two.

and he usually is, just not when he's been oh, so understanding and caring for so long already, and he knows that you can take it. they all know you can take whatever they give you.

so it's not long before he's got both his hands on your hips, all ten fingers digging into the flesh as he bounces you on his cock, the loud slap of skin on skin ringing out between your cries whenever his hips hit the fat of your ass.

you're slumped forward again, hands on his knees to try and ground yourself but it's hardly working. each slam of his hips, each kiss of his tip against your cervix has you making sounds you never thought you'd hear from yourself— loud and obscene, they sound straight out of a porno and so unlike the cute girl the men found sleeping in their home.

"fuck! s-satoru, slow down— oh my, fuck," you whine.

"can't, sweets. feels too- fuck- good." he sounds just as pitchy as you, just as desperate, and he knows you don't really mean it— not with the way you're blabbering on after, telling him to keep going, telling him how fucking good he feels, how deep he's hitting. "god, look at you," he groans, half-lidded eyes tracing over the curve of your spine, the beads of sweat streaking down your skin, the jiggle of your ass each time you bounce back down on his cock. "so perfect... can't believe we found you."

"'toru, toruuu." your thighs burn despite him doing most of the work for you, lifting you up and slamming you back down, over and over, and the relentless, monotonous pace is lighting that familiar fire low in your core. each thrust, each word from your two onlookers, from the man beneath you— it's all kindling. "fuck, fuck, shi-toru 'm gonna cum."

"got a filthy fuckin' mouth," toji mutters, sukuna humming in agreement. "should fill it up, give her somethin' better t'do," he grunts, cock twitching in his hand at the thought of your hot mouth wrapped around him instead.

sukuna's picturing it too. toji can tell by the way his eyes flutter shut, a ragged sigh escaping him that morphs into a guttural groan, "fuuuck, yeah." his head falls forward, pink locks damp with sweat falling over his closed eyes as he imagines it. imagines you with those lips parted around his length, tongue swirling around his shaft instead of is spit-soaked fingers. imagines it's you, hollowing your cheeks, sucking him in tight instead of him squeezing his fist with each stroke. "yeah, just like that— keep suckin' me like that, baby."

he's shameless. they all are. but it's not like you're any better. you only get louder, your pussy wetter at the sound of sukuna talking himself up to his peak. the knowledge that it's you who he wants, you who he's picturing making him feel good— it's enough to send you over the edge.

you keen, a jumbled mess of their names spilling from your lips— you know you should probably be screaming satoru's since he's the one rutting into you, but you can't help it. not when toji and sukuna are half the reason you're now gushing around satoru's dick as he continues to spear you.

"o-oh you feel so good," he whines, "'m so close, please—"

he's also not quite sure what he's begging for— for you to keep riding him? for you to let him keep fucking you as he has been? for you to let him spill inside you? it doesn't matter. you're not even in a state right now to give him an answer to any of them, but even if you could gather your thoughts you know the answers would be yes, yes, yes.

you're slumped over, panting and trembling as satoru keeps up his pace, his grip turning bruising as he chases his release. brows knit and eyes rolling back, the look on his face coupled with the pathetic whimpering coming from you and the sound of your pussy sloshing around him is enough to bring toji to the edge too.

sukuna's already cumming in his hand, loud and messy, by the time toji makes his way over to you. fist pumping fast, you can see his muscled legs before you through hazy vision, can hear his voice through the ringing in your ears. "lean back, doll. lemme see those tits again."

and without a thought, your body obeys, spine curving again, shaky arms sliding behind you to rest on satoru's quads you put yourself on display once more.

"fuck, there they are," he groans, "gonna cum all over 'em— you want that?"

"mhmmm," you nod, looking up at him with a look of pure need through your daze and that alone is enough to have his cock twitching in his palm. a few more pumps, a few more grunts and he's done. sticky, white ropes of cum paint your chest, your nipples, it's already starting to dribble down to your stomach.

"aw shiiit," satoru groans, "fuck i'm cumming—" and with that, a hand slides to your back, pushing you forward. you're too shaky to catch yourself properly, head collapsing all the way forward into the mattress between his legs. ass up for him, satoru's got one hand groping at you while the other's jerking his dick, hand moving fast and squeezing tight so he doesn't loose that feeling of you, up, down, up, down until he's convulsing, more white splattering across your rear— your asshole, each cheek, the hand that was palming you, all coated in satoru's release.

"god damn, satoru," sukuna's voice rings out, "don't think i've ever seen you cum that much."

"y-yeah," he breathes, completely spent, "pussy's incredible."

you grumble something incoherent into the mattress, body shifting around until you're lying flat next to satoru.

"uh-uh, get up," toji states flatly, "not tappin' out before my turn, mrs. incredible."

groaning in weak protest, you flip over to your back so you can scowl up at him. "but 'm already sore," you complain.

"don't worry, i'll do the work— jus' need ya to stand up f'me."

satoru and sukuna exchange a look— they already know what toji has planned for you. living together as long as they did, they knew… a lot about one another. their favorite colors, foods, positions. and toji was always one who liked to be in control, and if there was a way to show off his strength while doing it, well, that was even better.

mere seconds after you're able to stand, toji's scooping you up in his arms, adjusting quickly until you're chest to chest, both your thighs in his hands, and his already hard cock starting to push inside you. "toji!" you yelp, barely being given time to adjust to his size before he's starting to slide you down onto him. you thought after satoru you'd have no issues taking any of the other men— but you were sorely mistaken. satoru was long, yes, but toji? he was all girth.

"look at that," he groans. you turn your head, scanning the room lazily until you see what he's talking about. the full-body mirror hung up on the wall between the beds, next to you. you can see everything. every ridge and valley of the muscles carved into toji's body, the purple splotches on your hip, the veins that litter the cock that's half-way buried between your glistening folds.

it's fucking obscene, but if you look away, over his shoulder, you're only met with a burning crimson stare that's almost worse.

toji adjusts his grip, pulling you down further, splitting you open in a way that satoru wasn't able to. the stretch is painful, your slick walls being spread wide around him as he presses inside steadily until your pelvis meets his. "oh god, fuck—" you whimper, arms wrapping around his neck as you bury your face into the crook of it.

"so fuckin' tight," he grits through a clenched jaw, "you sure you fucked her, satoru?"

"shut up," he shouts from where he's still laid on the bed, catching his breath.

sukuna's watching intently, his own soft cock now twitching with signs of life again at the rosy hue on your cheeks and the way you're clinging to toji like he's not the one about to ruin you.

toji's hands slide along your supple skin until he's squeezing the fat of your ass, feeling for himself what he wanted to the minute he saw you climb on top of his friend. he pulls one hand away, letting it fall back to its place with a hard smack! making you jolt forward, into him. "ready, doll?" he asks, though you have a feeling no matter what you said, by the time your answer reached his ears, his mind would have twisted it into an enthusiastic yes.

but still, you nod against him, mumbling a soft, "'m ready," which earns you an attagirl, punctuated with another slap to your ass.

if you'd known that toji's question was the last small act of kindness that you'd receive from him all night, you might've hesitated a bit more. but you didn't. and he's making damn sure that you don't have a second to think about your potential mistake, immediately tugging your hips away from his and ramming them back down. "sh-shit!" you wrap your arms tighter around his neck, a hand carding through the hair on the back of his head.

biceps bulging, feet planted firmly on the ground, he's fucking you down onto him like you weigh nothing— just a toy for him to use how he pleases, which is just how he likes it. you're soaked already too, having cum once before, pussy slick with your arousal and sweat making it easier for him to bully his cock into you.

and no matter how many times he pushes inside, stretches you out, thrust after thrust it still feels like you're taking him for the very first time, like you'd never even fucked someone before him, let alone tonight.

"a-ahfuck! toji s-slow down," you whine, teeth sinking into his shoulder to stop yourself from crying out.

he hisses through clenched teeth at the sharp sting before a low chuckle rumbles in his chest. he's laughing. at you, because how could you even think he'd listen to you. "never were the smartest, huh?" he grunts, eyes sliding back to the mirror for another good look at you. ass red and legs trembling, your face is buried in his neck, yet he can still see how tight you have your eyes squeezed shut. "open your eyes," he commands, drawing a loud squeak from you when he spanks you again, hard.

your eyelids flutter open, but you're still not looking where toji wants you to. instead, your gaze is now locked on sukuna who's tugging gently on his half-hard cock, leaning lazily against the wall as he stares at you silently. he's unreadable, expression neutral in a way that makes your stomach flip— whether he's enjoying your little show or not is hard to tell from his face alone, the only indication being the way he keeps stroking himself languidly.

"somethin' else got your attention?" toji's gravelly voice rasps in your ear, "y'like bein' watched that much? rather look at him?"

"n-no, i don't—," you mumble, turning to share a look with him in the mirror. and you really can understand why he wanted to do this. it's fuckin' dirty— the way he's positioned you both so that he can make you watch him fuck you, reduce you into nothing but a whining mess in his arms. it's all the more obvious how much power he has over you in this moment. and that, draws a moan from you.

"you do— stranglin' me whenever you see him watching us."

your eyes cut back up to sukuna, pussy clenching tight around toji in a way that makes him groan wildly, proving his point. his grip on your ass tightens as he ruts into you harder, his pace slowing just so he can make sure each thrust is as deep as possible, burying his dick to the hilt each and every time.

"fuck, toji, please!" you croak, "s'too much, t-too thick—"

"yeah? fuck, doll, loosen up, shit."

"c-can't," you mewl, sniffling as you feel tears pricking your eyes at the overwhelming feeling budding in your chest, the tingling in your core as you feel your orgasm building much too quickly again. it's all making your head spin— sukuna, and now gojo, burning holes into you with their stares, toji's bruising grip, the way his girth is plowing into your already overstimulated cunt, abusing your g-spot mercilessly.

"fuck— you fuckin' crying?" sukuna finally speaks, cock pulsing in his hand.

toji smirks, the sight of you only adding to his already overinflated ego, "aw, poor thing, it hurt?" he asks with feigned sympathy.

you sniff again, voice raspy as you try to reply, "feels good, but—"

"so quit sniveling," he cuts you off, spanking you again. hot pain spreads across the skin on your ass, searing when he squeezes the area just after smacking it, nails returning to their position of digging into your flesh.

the tears that were sitting pretty in your waterline start to fall, shimmering rivulets rolling over your burning cheeks, down to your chin, and eventually onto toji's shoulder where you bury your face again. he can feel it, the wetness from your eyes, your hot breath fanning against his damp skin, all of it making his dick twitch inside you— if he could get any harder he would've.

instead, he just gets meaner. grip adjusting so he slides a hand inward, chuckling again at the way your body tenses when you feel the pad of his finger brush against your asshole. "w-wait," you start, but no more words follow, only a sound somewhere between a moan and a sob when you feel his finger rubbing tight circles around your rim, each motion fluid, lubricated with what's yet to dry of satoru's spend.

"fuck, yeah, you like that? havin' your ass played with?" your eyes flutter open again at the question, just in time to see sukuna's ears practically perking up, his neck craning to get a look at how toji's touching you.

sukuna's cock is fully hard again, satoru's own length starting to twitch once more as he lingers on the bed, watching everything quietly. toji presses, applying more pressure, relishing in the way your pussy clamps down around him as both your holes clench.

you can't help it anymore— that you're desperate. you can't be bothered to pretend like you're not completely and utterly willing to surrender yourself to toji at a moment's notice. even if you wanted to try, you know your body would betray you.

your cunt is already sopping wet again, slick sounds echoing through the room each time toji forces his cock back in, white webs of arousal visibly coating his shaft whenever he pulls out. and every dirty word that falls from his tongue, each spank and squeeze and brush of his hand against your ass just has your walls fluttering.

"more," you whine, "wan' more, please." your stomach flips as you feel yourself teetering on the edge of your release, rambling on more into his ear, just begging him to cum. but he's not ready to be done with you yet.

"knew y'were a slut," he grunts, but he's grinning wide, teeth bared as he watches himself in the mirror, hand adjusting once more to replace his finger with his thumb. he's resumes rubbing you, coating the digit in satoru's cum before pressing harder. "gotta relax, doll— don't ya wanna feel good?"

you nod fervently into him, starting to roll your hips pathetically, even though you're unable to keep up with his pace— but you just want to cum. and then he slows. you moan in frustration, feeling your orgasm slipping away, but his other hand is stroking your ass soothingly until your muscles relax and his thumb finally slips inside your tightest hole.

"o-oh fuuuck, 'ji." and then you're whimpering again at the pressure inside your rear, having already forgotten about the orgasm that he denied you. it's pathetic how much influence toji has over you, all pliant in his arms so long as he's giving you something.

he's got the rest of his hand splayed out across your lower back, thumb just hooked inside you like an anchor for his grip, but it feels like he's squeezing your walls tight between his hand and cock now.

"so good," he moans, "sukuna's gonna fuckin' love you, ain't that right?" he asks, glancing over his shoulder at the tattooed man who only grunts in reply.

you glance up at sukuna again, watching through watery eyes as he spits in his hand before bringing it back down to his dick. he flashes you an easy grin, eyes hungry and clouded with lust in a way that makes your chest swell with anticipation and your pussy flutter around toji.

and as much as toji loves the way you get wetter, louder, when you notice sukuna staring at you, he's a prideful man. and one who wants to cum knowing all your attention is on him.

another loud crack! rings out as toji's hand collides with your skin one last time. "toji! f-fuck!"

"eyes on me," he growls, grips tightening as he accelerates once more. he's sweating now, using every last ounce of his energy to make sure you cum before he does.

"haah— oh god, t-'ji," you sob, mouth falling open as moan after moan falls from your pretty lips, eyes rolling back as he fucks you down onto him, thumb rubbing along the inside of your asshole as his cock ruts into your abused walls.

you're driven to that peak again, the steady, ruthless rhythm of his thrusts winding the coil in your core tighter and tighter as you're forced to watch in the mirror— not daring to disobey his command when you're so close again. the arousal coating his cock is starting to form a frothy, white ring forming at the base. it's lewd, how wet you are before you've even cum again, but you can't help it with how thick toji is, cock big enough to press hard against every spot along your walls.

"gonna cum? you're fuck- fuckin' chokin' my cock again, doll."

he's teasing, but he shouldn't be. he knows he's right behind you, moaning unabashed, meat already pulsing inside you. but it's not until you're crying out his name like a prayer, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders, that he lets himself go. lets himself shake with you, holding to you like a vice as he sheaths himself one last time— your cunt and his cock spasm together as you cream on his dick, his own cum spurting inside you, coating your walls.

"fuuuck, yeah— g'na fuckin' fill you up," he pants, still buried inside you so he can watch in the mirror as his seed starts to leak out- a sticky, white film seeping from where your bodies are connected.

when toji finally pulls out, still holding you up with your legs folded and spread apart, he angles you juuust right so your leaking pussy's on display for the other men.

"holy shit," satoru breathes from his spot on the bed, admiring with wide eyes as the rest of toji's cum mixed with yours drips from your poor cunt, each ragged breath you take pushing out more for them to see. sukuna's hand stills, scared if he moves it another millimeter he'll be cumming in it for the second time, and he wants to make sure if he cums again tonight— it's inside you.

toji walks you back over to the bed, practically kicking satoru onto the ground before dropping you on the mattress. the three men have you surrounded in an instant, looming torsos caging you in at every end of the bed, and as much of a sight as it is— each hulking form, chiseled and glistening with sweat, boasting a set of abs trailing down to a pretty cock— they're each convinced that the sight of you beneath them is unparalleled.

naked form sprawled on the sheets, toji's cum has long dried on your chest which is still heaving, your nipples perking up before them in the open air, the temperature a stark contrast to the heat that was radiating off toji. the muscles in your legs quiver slightly as you squirm under their gazes, legs shifting together to try and hide the mess between them. but they already know what it looks like— white seed between your puffy folds, surrounded by the flushed skin of your ass that was treated oh, so harshly by the raven haired man.

sukuna shifts, drawing your attention fully to him as he crawls onto the bed. he encroaches slowly, knees shuffling forward as you two gaze at one another silently. the tension settling between you two is palpable, satoru and toji exchanging a glance with one another, but neither one speaking lest they interrupt.

"lemme see you," he rasps, large hands trailing up your thighs, coming to rest on your knees. he doesn't even need to pry, his voice alone has your stomach turning, heart beating wildly as you let your legs fall open for him. "fuck…" he breathes, bringing two fingers to run through your slit, your hips bucking instinctively at the touch, "eager little thing. two cocks not enough for you?"

there's a teasing lilt to his voice, and something else you can't quite place. sukuna's been difficult for you to read all night— quieter than the others, but when he speaks, you're not sure what to make of it. sometimes he's harsh, crass, words stinging sharper than toji's hand, and other time's he's reserved, tone flat and uninterested. and you find yourself feeling you'd rather have the former.

so you shake your head. "want yours, sukuna," you coo, a hand coming to rest atop his, guiding his fingers inside your aching pussy. you mewl, head falling back as he pushes further, the feeling of being full again both painful and pleasurable. his other hand splays across your stomach, smoothing up your torso as he works his fingers inside you.

calloused fingertip dance across your skin, pawing at your breasts, pinching your nipples lightly making you sigh and roll your hips against the heel of his hand. "so greedy," he muses, sliding his hand higher up your chest, lightly trailing along your collarbone before resting heavy against your neck. "just love feelin' full, that it?"

you nod quickly, a strangled moan tumbling from you as his hand tightens around your neck, his buried fingers curling inside you, prodding at that sweet spot finally. "mmf-fuck sukuna, please," you whine, his fingers scissoring and pumping, stretching you out again. the actions squelch loud, making the skin on your face prickle with heat.

and then he's pulling out slow, a low groan rumbling in his chest at the string of slick connecting his fingers to your cunt, the webs that form when he spreads the digits apart. you whine at the emptiness, making him chuckle, but he heeds your complaint, rough pads returning to you, only lower. he's circling your ass, pressing a finger in gently to which you don't protest. instead, you're arching, back coming off the mattress, neck still pinned down by his hand.

"what am i gonna do with you," he mutters, pensive as he languidly pumps the digit in and out of your asshole a few time before pressing another in alongside it. "a-ahh, s'kuna…" he's been hearing your moans all night, the honeyed sound of your voice never failing to reach his ears, but this? knowing it's finally because of him, finally getting to hear you panting his name? it's unmatched.

"you ever done anal?" he asks, eyes never leaving the sight of his fingers, entranced by the way your ass pushes them out just to suck them back in each time.

"uh-uh," you reply weakly, shaking your head as much as you can with his hand wrapped around your throat.

"mmm," he hums, "you gonna let me?" sukuna's eyes finally cut up to yours, his pupils blown wide with desire, the intensity of his stare drawing goosebumps to your skin, a shiver coursing through you as you nod meekly. "thaaat's a good girl."

it's almost embarrassing how much of an effect four little words can have on you— but the minute they leave his tongue, wrapped in his silken baritone your stomach is fluttering, pure need melting into something even stronger.

you can feel the motion of his fingers inside you, the steady retracting, sliding out of you until you're left pulsing around nothing.

normally, sukuna would tease you, play with you longer, work you up til the point where you're a sniveling mess begging for him to fuck you just to deny you again— but he's been waiting long enough. he's certain all the blood in his body must've rushed down to his dick with the way it's aching painfully, throbbing with a pulse of its own.

"you ready?" he grunts, the hand that was inside you now wrapped around the base of his cock so he can slap the shaft against your cunt. each hit has you squirming more, the thick head tapping against your swollen clit. "yeah you are," he mutters, more to himself than you, red irises glued to the sight of your pussy clamping around nothing.

"just be gentle," you mumble, apprehension starting to pool in your belly as you feel his cock sliding through your folds a few times before slipping lower, the tip prodding at your ass now.

sukuna smirks at that, flashing sharp canines at you before loosening the hand on your throat so he can stroke your cheek soothingly. "don't worry… gonna take good care of you," he replies with a softness you didn't expect from him.

you relax, legs shifting further apart to let his wide torso settle between them. each shuffle closer to you has his cock pushing forward. you worry your bottom lip between your teeth, biting back the moan that threatens to escape, a wordless reply to the painful stretch. "fuuck, jus' lemme put the tip in— it'll feel better after," he groans as your hands fly to his forearms.

he presses more, your nails burrowing into his skin like you're determined to have him feel the same sting as you until finally, you feel the fat mushroom head slip inside, your asshole closing down around after it. "shit— there ya go…" sukuna's hands come to rest beside your head, his body hovering over yours. his head is tucked into his chest so he can watch the rest of his shaft sliding in further, and further, lubricated by your slick and the release of the men you were with before him. "god, that feels good."

your moans harmonize as he bottoms out, pelvis finally pressed against yours he stills, seething through a clenched jaw, he looks at you. face inches from yours, breath mingling hot and humid, you're staring up at him. his eyes scan your face, the furrow in your brows, the glassy film over your eyes, your swollen lips, indented and red from being tugged between your teeth.

your chin shifts, tilts upwards, your mouth slightly agape— he knows what you want. knows that you're probably craving even a glimmer of affection after being fucked senseless twice already. just the tender brush of his lips against yours, the feeling of his tongue swiping at your lips, twirling against your own. he's so close, it would be so easy.

sukuna brings a hand back to your face, relishing in the way you lean into his touch, the way your mouth parts further as he swipes his thumb along your bottom lip, wetting it with your sweat and saliva. your lashes flutter, gaze desperate as you look at him, plead with him silently for something he doesn't plan on giving you.

instead, he slips his thumb inside your mouth, rolling his hips for the first time since entering you, grinning at the choked moan that vibrates against his digit. he knows you wanted more than a finger in your mouth, but still your lips close, cheeks hollowing and tongue twirling around it as you whimper at the feeling of his cock dragging slowly inside you.

"bet that mouth would feel fuckin' amazing wrapped around my cock," he mutters, pushing his thumb further, knuckles hitting your teeth as you gag. "might be the only thing it's good for."

your eyebrow knit together further, pupils shaking- he knows how you're feeling without you needing to say a word. you probably thought satoru was the sweet one. just to be proven wrong when he had you bouncing on his dick. then there's toji, who you never expected anything but a rough fuck from. and you'd probably thought of sukuna the same way, until he was crawling up on the bed with you. giving you sweet praises and checking in with you.

sure, it was manipulative, but he needed you relaxed, comfortable— otherwise he'd have never fit his cock in your ass.

he pulls his thumb out with a pop, smearing the residual saliva along your cheek because he's going to want to hear you now. wants to hear you sobbing his name as he pulls his hips back before slamming them into you.

"sukuna, fuck! o-oh god."

again. and again. he's a man obsessed, rutting into your ass relentlessly now, each moan, each cry from your throat spurring him on.

"yeah, jus' like that, baby— keep fuckin' saying my name like that."

it's new. a different kind of feeling than you're used to. the stretch feels bigger, wider, because your ass is just that much tighter. it's squeezing down around sukuna in a way that toji and satoru couldn't experience, no matter how hard you came around them.

"so greedy- sh-shit- suckin' me back in," he grunts, "y'want more? can't get enough?"

"mmfuck! s'kuna please," you're whining, writhing on the bed beneath him, eyes clamped shut with your head thrown back. "harder!"

"god damn, woman," he grits, sweat beading on his forehead as he pushes himself further, muscles straining as he finds himself keeping up with you now. your hips are thrusting up off the mattress, fucking yourself against him as his hips ram against your ass, his heavy balls smacking into you. "put your arms up."

you obey blindly, hands coming up above your head just for him to pin both wrists under one large hand. his free one trails down your side, a low groan rumbling in his throat at the sight of you trapped beneath him, ass stuffed full, your poor neglected pussy dripping with your arousal, beads of slick trailing down to the top of his cock just to be pushed into your other hole.

"so fuckin' wet— you always- fuck- like that?" you shake your head first, mumbling something incoherent before nodding after, too focused on the feeling of his length dragging along your inside to care about whatever he's asking you. "christ, already fucked stupid? 's okay, just feels too good, ain't that right?"

"uh-huh," you moan, before crying out, "fuck!" your eyes fly open, darting down to the place where your bodies meet to see his free hand now burrowed inside your cunt. two fingers curling and pumping again, moving with his body as he thrusts into you harder now.

you've been so focused on sukuna, so distracted by the stretch of his cock in your ass and now the feeling of his fingers pressing against your gummy walls, you don't even notice the two sets of muscled thighs on either side of your head.

"fuck, sukuna— you're gonna fuck her unconscious," satoru mumbles, his stiff length settled in his palm.

"nah, she can take it," toji chimes in, stroking his own girth opposite the white haired man. "look's like he's juuust right, actually."

each hit of sukuna's hips against yours has you keening, has your back arching and pussy clenching as every thought that isn't about your impending orgasm flies out of your mind. too fucked out to hear the murmuring above you, the lewd squelching of sukuna's fingers blending with the slapping of skin against skin. you're in too much of a daze to notice the tears that returned to your eyes, nor the saliva that's pooling in your mouth, threatening to trickle out.

"poor girl, crying again," satoru remarks, "fuck, she looks pretty when she does though."

"yeah, she does," toji grunts, "how's she feel sukuna?"

"fuckin' amazing, tight little ass is squeezin' the shit outta my cock." his voice is strained, words coming out chopped as he struggles to focus on holding your arms still while fingering and fucking you. "she's clampin' down round my fingers too—" his eyes cut up to your face, a feral grin cracking across his own at the state of you.

your eyes are glossed over and rolling back, salty droplets sliding from them to meet the drool now escaping the corners of your mouth— god, that mouth— lips parted and glossy as you still pant and moan, babbling an incoherent mix of his name and curses, pleases and thank yous.

"gonna cum, baby?" he rasps, and when you don't reply toji brings a hand to your face, tapping lightly against your cheek until your eyes slide to meet sukuna's gaze. "said you gonna cum?" he repeats.

you nod fervently, "mhmm wanna cum," your voice is pitchy now, laced with need as the pit in your stomach and the tingling in your core grow stronger, only it's different. your eyes grow wider, moaning and writhing, you stutter, "f-feels like 'm g-gonna pee, kuna— s-slow down."

"yeah? fuck, y'gonna squirt for me?"

"i-i don't—" you've never done that before. unfamiliar with what it feels like, slight panic and embarrassment course through you but sukuna's not letting up— if anything he's getting faster, thrusting into you harder than he was before. "kuna, wait— fuck!" you cry out, chest heaving as tears start to stream steadily from your eyes when your orgasm washes over you. you're shuddering, cunt pulsing rapidly as your watery release gushes onto sukuna's hand, his stomach, the sheets beneath you.

"ahh- yeah, that's it— make a mess all over me," sukuna growls, actions unrelenting as he keeps fucking you through the aftershock of your climax. "god you're fuckin' nasty."

your ribs shake as you cry harder, overstimulated your cunt burns from the friction of his fingers thrusting into it, your ass stinging from the stretch of his hefty cock— it's all too much, but fuck if it isn't like anything you've experienced before.

"you okay, sweets?" satorus voice rings out, soft and compassionate despite the fact that he's bucking into his fist faster now, pearly beads of precum leaking from his tip at how ruined you are.

"m—ah-more," you hiccup, "f-full."

"sure are, doll," toji grunts, the speed of his hips rivaling satoru's, and he's not even sure how he has any more cum left inside him at this point— but all he knows is he'll be damned if he doesn't get to cum one more time with you here tonight.

"jus' a cockdrunk cumslut, huh?" sukuna grunts, harsh words cutting through your haze and sending another flutter to your core. "lucky you're so pretty— shit- 'specially like this."

and he really meant it. the vision of you laid out before him, lower half of your body glistening in your own juices, ass and pussy filled to the brim with him, it would be etched into his memory forever.

"a-ah fuck, 'm gonna cum," he groans, pulling back, finally releasing your sore wrists, only you're too limp to move them. both his hands come to adjust your legs, resting your ankles on his shoulders. biceps flexing, his arms move to wrap around your thighs, hugging them tight. he uses them as leverage to rut into you, chasing his own release with seemingly endless stamina until his hips stutter, his pace faltering before his hips still.

"a-ahhfuck," sukuna moans loud and unabashed as his cock pulses, his seed filling your ass. but he doesn't pull out. not yet. he stays, his cock softening inside you as he keeps you laid out before him because there's still two more people who haven't finished. "go on n' cum on her face," he breathes out, panting softly.

satoru and toji are grunting, neither one able to reply, fearful that the effort it would take to form a sentence would detract from the high they're so close to. their hands and hips move wildly to meet one another, and each man is imagining the feeling of your heavenly pussy. they remember what it felt like to press inside you for the first time, the feeling of your velvety walls gliding along their shafts, the feeling of you trembling when you cum—

and that's enough. sensitive and twitchy, they're both done for. toji groaning, satoru whimpering out your name as each one cums from their hands. white ropes of cum splatter on your face, your lips, your neck.

only when you've been painted white does sukuna finally pull his hips away from yours, a weak moan rising up from your chest at the feeling of him gliding against your abused walls once more until you're empty again.

all three of them are spent, their muscles starting to ache from overexerting themselves just to try and be the one to ruin you.

and you were. absolutely ruined. sukuna's seed leaking from your ass, your legs covered in your own release, and a dark stain on the sheets beneath you. you could still see the dried cum on your chest, a complement to the fresh, sticky cum on your face that's starting to crust in your hair.

as the fog in your mind starts to clear, you bring an aching arm down to touch your face, eyes squinting as you do your best to rub some of the mess off, your tongue darting out to lick clean whatever landed on your lips.

"someone get a rag," sukuna barks, scowling when the other two men just grumble tiredly in response. the frown in his expression softens when he hears you giggle, a breathy laugh bubbling up from your chest as the absurdity of the situation you're in now. fucked out and slightly delirious, covered in a number of bodily fluids as you wait for a stranger to clean up the mess they made on you all because of a wrong turn on a walk.

eventually someone does get a towel, returning to the room to find you struggling to blink away the exhaustion that's clawing at you, fighting to lull you into a deep sleep.

"uh-uh," sukuna tuts at you, smacking your leg lightly to keep you awake, "not fallin' asleep in my bed before a shower at least."

"your sheets are already ruined, what does it matter?" toji reasons, wiping the towel gently across your skin.

"obviously 'm gonna wash them," sukuna shoots back— the two of them starting to bicker with one another as you watch them with a lazy grin on your face until satoru steals everyone's attention with a noisy groan.

"guys, the porridge is going to be cold again."

likes, comments, reblogs always appreciated ! i have more works here ♡

a/n: ty phy for reading this while i was working on it and giving feedback ily. psst @coralbae and @whimsic i hope you find the shawarma kiosk joke i've slipped in here

II. case two: encrypted outlook thread ( 12:21 PM )

higuruma hiromi ought to teach you a lesson.

frankly, you’re the worst paralegal he’s had the mispleasure of working with since joining pearson hardman. he can’t help but envy his rival, phoenix wright, and his paralegal, maya fey!

you’re much too forgetful, too busty, too disorganized. at 9AM today the files for the high-priority danganronpa case were due on his desk. they didn’t reach him till eleven, and you had the audacity to add on a sticky note labeled ‘sorry!’ and ‘meet me downstairs for some apology head ;)’. higuruma hiromi has concluded that you never learn.

so he decides he’ll teach you himself.

Subject: Investigative Documents for Danganronpa Case

From: Higuruma Hiromi

To: [L/N], [Y/N]

Y/N,

Not only were the documents I requested for prep late, they were also extremely disorganized. This is a serious case regarding kidnapped and murdered children, and I suggest you exercise some more seriousness and be more meticulous in your conduct. You also left an implicit sticky-note attached to the files. I suggest you come visit my office, lest I file a formal complaint.

Regards,

Higuruma Hiromi

—

Subject: RE: Investigative Documents for Danganronpa Case

From: [L/N], [Y/N]

To: Higuruma, Hiromi

Counselor,

Are you threatening me with a complaint? I’m just doing my job. I did notice your tie was a bit crooked today, though, so I’d be happy to come fix it for you when I swing by your office. Or take it off completely. Let me know when you’d like me to drop in and fix those files!

Regards,

Y/N L/N

—

Subject: RE: RE: Investigative Documents for Danganronpa Case

From: Higuruma, Hiromi

To: [L/N], [Y/N]

Y/N,

You can come fix it now. And then I’m going to fix the way you think you can talk to a Senior Associate. I will lock the door, and you will not be released till you admit exactly how much of a headache you’re deliberately trying to be. Don't test me, [Y/N]. I’m a very patient man, but even I have limits.

Higuruma Hiromi.

ー

Subject: RE: RE: RE: Investigative Documents for Danganronpa Case

From: [L/N], [Y/N]

To: Higuruma, Hiromi

ruma,

i suck at corporate speak 😭 are u saying ur gonna eat my pussy orrrrrr

—

Subject: [SECURITY ALERT] KEYWORD FLAG / SERVER SCRUB

From: Hange Zoë (IT Department)

To: Higuruma, Hiromi; [L/N], [Y/N]

CC: Human Resources (General Inbox)

Hi Hiromi, [Y/N],

Just a friendly heads-up: I’m running the quarterly server audit and the 'harassment/explicit' keyword filter just went off like a fire alarm on your thread. Specifically because of the word 'pussy.’

Sorry to intrude on your corporate sexting session! I’ve paused the sync to the main server, but the automated log has already been forwarded to the Senior Partners. You guys might want to check your calendars. Erwin at HR just opened a new 'Conduct Investigation' folder with both your names on it (uh oh!)

Best of luck to you both! And Y/N, I could be wrong, but I think his last message was implying BDSM; though I don’t doubt he’d be willing to eat you out as well!

Happy eating!

Zoë Hange

★ Y/N L/N ⎯⎯ DISCIPLINARY RECORD.

offense: MISUSE OF COMPANY COMMUNICATION CHANNELS / EXPLICIT DIGITAL CONDUCT

punishment: Mandatory 2-hour 'Digital Ethics' Webinar & temporary monitoring of all outgoing firm emails.

issued by: Erwin Smith, Head of Human Resources.

CC: Higuruma Hiromi, [Y/N] [L/N]

‘It has come to our attention that the Danganronpa Case thread was used for ‘personal negotiations,’ that which our investigative committee has concluded were most likely inappropriate. Please refrain from using the firm’s Outlook servers as your personal Wizz/Tinder moving forward. And Higuruma, we expect better from you. Please report to room three on floor six after lunch break. The door will not be locked.’

III. case three: company zoom meeting ( 5:04 PM )

higuruma hiromi thinks he’s so fucking smart.

he also thinks he’s the king of calendar invites. so when he tells you to send out an email for a company zoom meeting for 6PM but set the zoom’s actual time to five, he supposes his intellect rivals god.

“you’re late, y/n,” higuruma’s voice is close to guttural. he’s laid back on his desk chair, tie loose, legs spread, hair impossibly messy. and you’re knelt on your floor, laptop on your thighs.

you’re sporting the cutest little bath robe higuruma has ever seen. you’re grinning at the screen, cheeks peach-dappled & lips bent in a clumsy smile,

“hi, ‘ruma! wanna see my tits?”

lord, how higuruma adores you !

and who is he to say no? he leans back against his seat, swivel chair groaning with a creeeaaak. he’s already unzipping his pants as you begin to shrug off your pretty pink robe, breasts glazed over & supple in the fluorescent light.

a tiny, bright green notification pings at the bottom of the screen.

[Participants: 48]

higuruma freezes. then rises up, palm curling off his shaft & inching towards his keyboard.

slowly, agonizingly, he clicks on gallery view.

forty-six pearson hardman employees stare at him back.

erwin smith looks like he just witnessed a war promised to him 2000 years ago. hange zoë has a measuring tape held up against the screen. his rival, phoenix, is making a face that reminds him of the many memes of that one streamer you’d often send him—i show meat? levi ackerman has already left the meeting—he knows because the notification flashes at the corner of the screen.

and right there in the center box? harvey specter, senior partner of pearson hardman ltd, has his chin in his hand & eyes intensely locked on to the screen.

is he looking at your breasts ?

oh right, you! you’ve been calling out for the past one minute now, completely unaware of the other forty-six employees watching your wet nipples glisten in the light.

“‘ruma? ‘ruma? ugh, is this thing on?”

higuruma slams his laptop shut. it bangs louder than the gunshot that killed charlie kirk.

★ Y/N L/N ⎯⎯ DISCIPLINARY RECORD.

offense: PUBLIC INDECENCY / TOTAL BREACH OF FIRM REPUTATION

punishment: Termination of Employment (Effective Immediately)

issued by: Harvey Specter, Senior Partner ; The Board of Directors.

CC: Higuruma Hiromi (RESIGNED), [Y/N] [L/N]

‘Hey guys! Harvey here. So after a meeting with the rest of the board, we’ve come to the decision to terminate your employment. Higuruma, your resignation letter has been duly received. Gonna be completely honest, that was the last thing I ever expected to see in a corporate meeting. But you two really spiced up my evening, thanks! I tried to negotiate with Jessica and the other directors on your behalves, but sadly they weren’t having it.’

P.S: ‘Nice cock, Hiromi! Very impressive both length and girth wise. And sorry for sneaking a peak at your chest, Y/N. At the very least, your boob job looks very natural. Best of luck to you both!’

bad conduct, end.

EMPLOYMENT STATUS : #OPEN TO WORK !

! for those who don’t have linkedin ↓

cocky!nerd!gojo who starts arriving early to physics even though he usually strolls in late everywhere else. he sits in the exact chair beside yours and pretends it's just a coincidence when you show up. when you look doubtful before sitting there he casually slides his bag off the seat and smiles.

“oh. you can sit here if you want.”

cocky!nerd!gojo had decided you were now the single most interesting person in the world despite not really talking to you yet. and still, no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't bring himself to act right in front of you. he completely misses everything the lecturer says the next time he has physics. not because the content was hard, (nothing in that class was hard for him.) but because halfway through you'd accidentally bumped his shoulder with your hand, and he couldn't stop replaying the horribly embarrassing way he'd replied when you apologised.

"oh, frick. m' sorry..." you'd mumbled softy. "it's worries."

what the fuck?! he was supposed to say 'it's okay' or, 'no worries.' but it came out as that. never in his life had he wanted to jump off the roof of a building as badly as he did now. he covered his mouth with his hand and sat there staring wide eyed at the floor for the rest of the class.

cocky!nerd!gojo who conveniently starts answering every question in class the moment he hears your pen stop writing. the professor asks an especially difficult question that no one can guess, and as soon as satoru sees your head lift from your paper, he proudly barks out the answer. after being congratulated for being correct, he always glances sideways at you waiting to see if you'll look impressed.

cocky!nerd!gojo who loudly argues with the professor about some complicated concept one day just so you will look at him longer than two seconds. the rest of the class thinks he is showing off again, and he is. but when you glance over with wide eyes and whisper,

“wait… you understood that?” he completely forgets the big flashy point he was making and just awkwardly nods.

cocky!nerd!gojo who finally gathers enough courage to talk to you and immediately fumbles the bag.

“so uh... the derivative there is wrong.” he points at your page then panics because he just criticised you. “not wrong wrong. just… y'know... mathematically improvable?”

you blink up at him with those sweet, confused eyes and he curses under his breath for even trying to be normal about you.

"could you show me how to do it?" you'd asked softly, and cocky!nerd!gojo melts.

cocky!nerd!gojo, with literally anyone else (socially important or not) couldn't give a shit about being nice. he'd make off handed comments about the content being dead easy, laugh at people who got stuck up on questions he flew through, but now that you'd ask him for some help, he was stuttering out a "sure," and leaning over your desk to teach you.

cocky!nerd!gojo who tries to flirt by helping you with homework, but it turns it into a full on physics spiel because he was getting the nervous rambles. you ask one small question and he dives into a ten minute explanation of something you kind of already knew using the back of your notebook as a whiteboard. halfway through he realises you are just watching him talk, smiling a little, and he suddenly loses his train of thought.

cocky!nerd!gojo who notices you struggling with one concept and literally spends all night rewriting the explanation in the simplest way possible. the next day he's tired, but sliding the revision paper he'd made up toward you all the same.

“i was bored.” he says all nonchalant, although his heart starts racing when he see's the shy look of appreciation span across your face.

cocky!nerd!gojo who gets weirdly territorial the first time another guy in your physics tutorial leans over your desk to “help.” the dude’s explanation is wrong anyway, so satoru slides into the seat beside you and corrects the equation without even looking at the paper properly. he explains it twice as fast as necessary just to prove he can. then he glances at the other guy and rolls his eyes.

“next time just ask me, sweetheart. saves you the misinformation.”

cocky!nerd!gojo's never really felt this way about a girl before. he's slept with women here and there, but they couldn't occupy even his daytime thoughts. you, however? occupied his every thought.

no matter how guilty he feels, cocky!nerd!gojo can't stop the late-night fantasies that creep into his head when he's all alone in his apartment. it's always the shy girls, at least that's what they said. his brain would cook up the nastiest of thoughts... what it would be like to push you into the supply closet in the hallway and take you right there, if you'd keep that same shy expression even as he's pumping you full of his thick cock. he'd pathetically fucked his fist countless times to the thought of your pretty whines, what your body would look liked pinned beneath him as he splits you open, what those eyes would look like rolled back into your skull...

cocky!nerd!gojo decides he's had enough, that he can't keep acting like such a virgin loser around you. so, as you're leaving class one day, he catches you as you're about to head to the library, the one he never visits because he knows everything the textbooks want to tell him anyways. regardless, he hits you with the,

"oh, you're headed to the library? me too, can i walk with you?"

cocky!nerd!gojo who now walks with you everyday under the excuse of, 'we take the same course, might as well study together.' he's gotten a little more comfortable around you, he's not so much of a dork after the few library visits where he'd sit there and either stare at you fondly or tutor you free of charge.

"newtonian mechanics? i can help with that. m' real good with the maths, y'know." he'd brag smugly, watching your face to see if you'll praise him. "thanks a bunch, satoru. you're so smart, i could really use the help." you'd reply with a small smile, and any air of arrogance disappears from his face as he almost chokes on his spit. "y-yeah... no worries." at least he didn't say 'it's worries' this time, that was an improvement.

cocky!nerd!gojo who gets far cockier the more comfortable you become around him. he starts leaning over your chair when you study so his arm rests across the back of it, caging you in without making it too obvious. when you glance up at him he tilts his head with that full-of-it grin.

“focus on the problem, angel.”

meanwhile he is absolutely not focused on the problem.

cocky!nerd!gojo and you begin planning out study sessions, (satoru would prefer to call them dates, but there was no way he had the balls to refer to them as such.) he'd meet you every few days in the library, tucked away in a corner booth where the light was a little dim. this time, you'd shown up in a cute vintage sweater that hugged your body just right, and two cups of coffee. he leaned back into the booth cushions as you sat opposite him, pretending to be indifferent when really, he was mentally jumping up and down at the fact you'd even thought to buy him something. his exact order, too. although he'd make sure you'd never use your money on him ever again, that was his job now.

cocky!nerd!gojo returned the favour by bringing you pastries the next time you'd planned to meet up. he arrives a few minutes late with two hot chocolates and a paper bag, sliding the contents towards you gently.

"for the other day." he yawns, "i know you like those ones." he says pointing to the bag. he says it flippantly, but his heart is racing as your eyes light up when you pull the treat free.

he wasn't expecting it, but before he could sit down, you've stood up, and you've hugged him.

he fully drops his hot chocolate.

"ah! are you okay?" you fussed, giving him that adorably concerned look.

cocky!nerd!gojo becomes more infatuated with you after that then he'd thought ever imaginable. sure, he had to quickly clean up the mess then excuse himself to deal with his raging hard on in the bathroom, but overall? the feeling of your arms around him has to be the most bliss he'd ever felt.

cocky!nerd!gojo who absolutely refuses to let anyone else tutor you once he realises half the class is suddenly very eager to “study together.” he laughs it off in front of everyone, leaning back in his chair.

“sorry, slots are full.” someone asks what that means and he nods toward you without shame. “exclusive contract. she’s my study partner.”

cocky!nerd!gojo who nearly dies the first time you fall asleep on his shoulder in the library during one of your study sessions. you had told him you were fine even though your eyes kept slipping shut. ten minutes later your head tips and falls on him. he sits there completely still for almost half an hour in fear of waking you.

cocky!nerd!gojo starts actually flirting with you. he starts sitting on your side of the booth in the library and initiating small touches. sometimes he'll brush a stray strand of hair from your face and others he'll play footsies with you under the table. very high school level stuff, but if your flustered face was anything to go by he'd say it was working. he'd even managed to secure your number after telling you he needed it incase he ever needed to cancel, (a very unlikely variable, he would never.) a privilege he'd started abusing.

gojo [10:35pm]: heyy, are you up?

gojo [10:35pm]: wanna see a picture of my cat tuna 🙏🏻?

you [10:37pm]: hiii yes i'm here! and sure 🙂‍↕️

gojo [10:37pm]:

you [10:38pm]: AWWWWW WHAT A BABY HE'S SO CUTE 🥹

gojo [10:38pm]: almost as cute as you

you [10:38pm]: youre flirting with me?

gojo [10:39pm]: only if you like it sweetheart

you [10:39pm]: i do

gojo [10:40pm]: oh?

cocky!nerd!gojo takes that as his sign to up the ante. now, he stares shamelessly at you in class, winking when you catch him. he steals your books and draws dumb doodles of you two in the corners, he carries your bags anywhere you go, and he takes every chance he possibly can to talk to you.

"you look real pretty today, love. i—" "—satoru, quiet!" the lecturer interrupts, ruining his totally suave moment.

but cocky!nerd!gojo doesn't stop at that, oh no. he starts slipping his hand into yours whenever you're walking to the library, he begins hugging you softly and kissing your forehead before you leave, and even then you're lucky to have the walk back to your dorm to yourself. he's always tagging along with a hand low on your back.

"y'know, i could use a flat mate." he'd casually throw out there, "saves you walking home in the dark all the time." and when you'd bite and tell him you can barley afford dorm life, he hits you with the, "you could always pay me in other ways."

the way you stopped walking slightly and bowed your head in embarrassment really did something to him.

cocky!nerd!gojo sits in utter astonishment one day after class after you'd asked him a question. a simple one, but still capable of taking away his ability to think straight.

"hey, satoru?" "hm?" "we're close, right?" "the closest." "can i call you toru? like... a nickname?"

oh my god, yes you fucking can.

cocky!nerd!gojo cracks one night when you offer him to come inside after he'd walked you home. he nods softly, clearing his throat, trying to calm himself down. he'd been to plenty of girls' places, why was this one making him all giddy and nervous? he takes in your dorm, and wow, you've really made it your own. it smells like you, it looks like you, every little detail and trinket radiates you. he wants to cry, never in his life has he been so overwhelmed with the need to touch absolutely everything.

it gets worse when cocky!nerd!gojo sits down on your bed, and you plop right down next to him, barley a centimetre apart. he has to breathe, calm down, try hard not to get hard and potentially ruin this absolutely ethereal moment. he's doing in for four out for three when you interrupt his little breathing exercise.

"toru?" he clears his throat and chokes out a, "yes, love?" "can i ask a question?" "anything." "i hope this isn't weird but. uhm... what exactly are we?"

that was something he definitely wasn't expecting.

"what do you wanna be, hm?" he tries to fake an air of carelessness but fails when you look up at him through those pretty lashes. "i mean.. we hang out all the time, you walk me everywhere, kiss my head, help me study... m' not sure that's just a friend thing..."

cocky!nerd!gojo smiles in appreciation of your honesty, then plucks up the courage to hold you face and tilt your head towards him.

"i want us to be more than just friends. so, so much more." "yeah?" "yeah." he searches your eyes before bringing your face closer. "would you wanna go out with me? like, properly. i've sorta had a thing for you for ages now." he admits through a bashful smile. "what, like be your girlfriend?" you ask, satoru can feel your cheeks heating beneath his fingers. "yes, y/n. i want to be yours."

cocky!nerd!gojo is ecstatic when you whisper a small, okay, toru, and pulls your lips in for a slow, well awaited kiss.

cocky!nerd!gojo, after a good three months of plotting, had finally, finally made the shy girl in his physics class his, and he'd never take the role of being your boyfriend for granted.

"so, about moving in..." "we've been dating for a week?"

what was he if not over presumptuous, even to you sometimes.

“Long night?” Kento asks softly, grabbing you out of your thoughts, an amused expression on his face.

You sigh, nodding. “You could say that, thank you for the coffee Nanami! I owe you the next one.”

You let the sweet liquid hit your lips, eyes peering to Gojo's office. There was some lady in there, pretty as fuck in some crazy attempt at business stripper chic, sort of Gojo’s vibe. Yet instead of him eyeing her, he for some reason was scowling at you. What, you dared to sip coffee and not work for two minutes?

“Not at all,” Nanami says, clearing his throat. “Happy birthday.” 

“Shit that’s today?” You teased, but you did know, smiling and leaning back.

“We don’t really get birthdays,” he mumbles, running a hand over his face.

You grimace, sipping the coffee again. “No we really don’t, but thank you!”

“Of course. Take care of yourself okay? Gojo is… ugh.” Nanami looks disgusted as he shakes his head, pushing up his fancy glasses. You couldn’t help but giggle at that as he walks off.

Your phone rings, because of course Gojo can't just come to you, how could his spoiled ass walk a few steps!? No, you must go to him.

“Yes, Sir?” You answer the phone, trying not to roll your eyes, tapping your pretty glittery manicured nails on your desk, the one treat you gave yourself.

“Meet me in my office, sweetheart. Now.” That silken command may have excited most women, shit, most human beings, but it was just a constant source of annoyance for you.

You clear your throat and plaster on a smile. “Coming, Mr. Gojo.”

You smooth down your cute little office dress, if you had to be miserable you’d at least be presentable about it! You’re adjusting the buckle of your belt just a tad before walking towards the giant glass office, lit bright by the sun, peering in the door way to see the bane of your existence.

Gojo’s office had floor to ceiling windows surrounding it that had a ridiculous view of the cityscape below. You all were on the very top floor of Kamo Tower, after all. The air was filled with a faint scent, these hints of bergamot from his cologne, it was all something that was very distinctive to Gojo.

He may be a little shit but he smelled good.

He also looked good, reclining casually in that leather chair, his signature dark blue Gucci sunglasses on, round ones that are covering those ridiculous blue eyes. Which you honestly appreciate, because they were so damn pretty it made it hard to focus, even after two years of working as his assistant you weren’t immune to those baby blues.

“Sir?” You stand there cautiously, thinking of just putting in your notice then and fucking there, like that dream you had in your two hours of sleep.

Satoru taps his fingers on his abdomen, just resting there on that dress shirt all casually, long fingers you had no business looking at for too long. “Status update on my meetings?”

“I sent you them all,” he smirks all arrogantly, and you have to grit your teeth not to just crash out on this man. “You have two meetings today, sir. One for the new hotel partnership, then you have a meeting with Mr. Suguru about your casino. And of course, you have your event tonight.”

“Speaking of that,” he says with a little sigh. “I need you to come with me tonight for the charity ball.”

Oh fuck no.

Not on your birthday.

You shut the heavy door behind you, resting your aching head against it for a moment and shutting your eyes.

“I asked for tonight off,” Gojo scoffs at that – this little fucker scoffs, grinning, flashing those damn fangs like some vampire, all glinting from the sun that beams in. “I am not going.”

“No?” He stands, stretching his long elegant limbs, before he walks closer to you, making the scent of him waft through your senses.

“No,” you hate how he makes your heart race when he’s in front of you.

“I'll pay you well, sweetheart – plus you’ll be going as my date for the event, not going to make you actually work. You'll get to relax and shit, get paid to have some fun, drinks and food, dancing…”

“As your date?” You ask, pursing your lips a bit.

“I know, it’s kinda a dream scenario,” he grins like he’s bestowing the finest gift on you. “Don’t fall in love tonight.”

“Psh,” you roll your eyes. “Since when does CEO Satoru need a date? Especially a date with me. I can just arrange you a date like I always do.”

“It's a delicate partnership and I need someone who is smart. Not eye candy,” well fucking ouch. “I need you, little law school girl. Plus you’re American, and a lot of the people there are too, so it’s a no brainer.”

Not eye candy.

Men flirt with you pretty frequently actually, on the very rare occasions you’re not working you’ve had quite a few ask you out. You know you’re a pretty girl, but of course Gojo banged models on the regular, and you had no time to try to even attempt to look like a model. Shit, you barely had time to slap on some mascara and concealer every day to hide how tired you were.

“So you don't need anyone pretty, is that what you're saying?”

Satoru pauses then, frowning at you.

“What, no? You're very pretty,” he'd never said that about you – HR and all. Though he’d banged damn near all his assistants besides you, Satoru barely complimented your work let alone your looks.

Him calling you pretty really fucks you up, you have to catch your breath, looking up at him, curious how he had suddenly gotten just an inch away.

Sneaky ass.

“‘Not eye candy,’ isn’t that what it means?”

“Well no, that’s not what it means, just you dress kinda boring,” you blink again, as he digs himself into a hole. “No like…just all businessy and shit? You don’t dress sexy is all. I mean… not that you have to, I’ve never seen you not in a business dress unless it’s at night and I call you, then you wear pajama shorts and shit.”

You snort at that, shaking your head – you loved clothes, and to dress up, but of course he probably wouldn’t know that. “I would dress up if I had a life. All I do is work for you.”

“Exactly, that’s what I mean by not ‘eye candy’. How you dress, not your looks,” this man… “But I'll make sure your outfit looks killer, no need to thank me.”

Gojo winks at you, lowering his shades, those insane cerulean eyes making you overheat against your will. Big and glittering with silver, the irises the prettiest blue that the earth could scarcely recreate. Eyes that made anyone do anything he wanted, and they always worked – You were almost immune to that.

You take a breath for courage, it’s about time you said something, especially if your plan is to go. “It's my birthday and you want me to work overtime?”

Gojo frowns. “Birthday?”

He looks utterly confused, as if you should not have one of them, for it’s inconvenient. “Yeah. Twenty-sixth.”

He evaluates you carefully. “Why did I think you were like twenty two?”

“I’m not sure. If I was I wouldn’t even have my law degree yet, baby face maybe,” you do look young but then, so does Satoru. “But it’s actually my third birthday here, and you have never given me the day off. I will absolutely not put in OT.”

“What, you have some big plans, hot shot?”

No. Sure don't. “Yep.”

“Cancel em,” he shakes a hand dismissively and you scowl. “What? Need me to cancel them?

“No! I won’t.” You cross your arms under your breasts, and his gaze darts down for the briefest of moments, before flickering back to your face.

“No? What do you mean ‘no’?”

No one turned Gojo down – no one ever told the gorgeous, manchild of a CEO the word ‘no’ to anything. His six-foot-four frame bends over just a bit as he places an arm on one side of you, peering down, frown still on his handsome features, eyes lidded just a bit. you glare back up at him.

“Gojo, I'm really exhausted, and I just want to have fun and actually relax for my birthday,” he gasps, all affronted.

“What, then have fun with me! I’m fun!”

“That's work. Not fun.”

“Hmm,” he tilts your chin up with his long fingers, making you peer up at him, surprised at the contact and what it makes you feel, your tummy clenches up. “I'll make it fun, I promise. Then I'll give you the day off tomorrow. Deal?”

You are gonna fucking agree, aren’t you?

“Gojo, I could find you a smart American girl? Eye candy too,” you offer, he shakes his head, leaning too close.

“You're my best, sweetheart, I need you by my side.”

Bastard. Not him batting his pretty white lashes.

You sigh. “Ugh. Fine.”

He grins, and you catch a shaly breath as he backs away. “Good girl.”

“Don’t say that!?”

“Why not?” He’s sticking his hands in his pockets now, grin widening. “I'll have a brand new outfit brought to your apartment later? I’m assuming you don’t have anything fancy enough for this event.”

“Probably not…” You’re not turning down free dresses from Satoru Gojo’s rich ass. “Fine. Need my size?”

His eyes are drinking you in as he smirks, like he’s touching your body. “You think I haven’t gathered your size by now?”

Fuck.

Your cheeks heat up at his little assessment, the way it feels like he’s brushing his fingers over your body – though you’re used to him, at the end of the day you still had a pussy, and it reacted to him in ways that make you irritated. Satoru just chuckles deeply, turning away and waving a hand.

“You're dismissed, sweetheart. See you tonight.”

Just like that, your birthday night was just…

Work.

No you weren’t doing anything – but you could have cuddled on your couch! Not had to mingle and spend a night with Satoru Gojo of all people.

You rush out all irritated, downing your now cold coffee and cursing that blue eyed man.

****

“Can’t wait to put in my two weeks ugh,” you grumble to yourself as you finish up your makeup.

If you had to work your birthday you would absolutely look gorgeous for it – lashes, winged liner, red lips.

The dress he had ordered laid in a satin box on your pretty white day bed. You open it finally, the pretty black gown encased in baby blue and white tissue paper, the colors of the little shit Gojo himself. You gently pull out the gown and hold it up, and almost all of your irritation dies off.

Fuck if he doesn’t have good taste.

Black and decked with sequins, it glitters in the light, it was a silky fabric, soft as a caress against your skin. You undo the little zipper and peer in the mirror, sliding it on, it glides over your curves perfectly, coming to cinch in at the nip of your waist. The neckline was slutty dear lord – it plunged ridiculously low in fact, revealing a generous amount of cleavage that you typically kept under wraps at work.

The question was, how did Gojo know your damn measurements?

Pervert is what he was.

A pervert with good taste.

The dress had a slit that went dangerously up one of your thighs, exposing nearly all of one leg, while the rest of the dress hit the floor. It was as if he truly knew every measurement you had, better than if you’d went and tailored the damn thing.

Well at least you get a pretty dress for your pain and suffering!

You spin to look at the back of the dress in front of the mirror, it dips daringly low as well, exposing the smooth expanse of skin, from shoulder blades down to the dimples on your lower back. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel super pretty in a dress like this.

You rummage through your little jewelry box, eyeing to see what would work with the dress, and deciding on a pretty silver necklace and earrings, something simple. You’re clipping the earrings on when a text pops up.

Dick Boss: Waiting out front in the car.

You: Just a few.

You slip on your shoes and spritz some body spray on, your favorite from Victoria’s Secret you save for special things, when another text blings.

Dick Boss: I’m waiting…

Fucking Gojo. Ugh.

You: Coming now.

You lock up and head down the stairs of the apartment building, and see Ijichi Kiyotaka, Gojo’s driver, opening the door of the black limo for you. Kiyotaka, who somehow was one year younger than you, that boggled your mind more than Nanami only being one year older.

Geto and Gojo wore people out.

If you didn’t have a great skincare routine, Gojo would make you look old too.

“My lady,” he says sweetly, and you smile at him, sliding in, and there Gojo was across from you, long arms spread across the backs of the seat, his head resting back so that his throat was exposed.

His head snaps down, and he looks right at you, no sunglasses, only those pretty  blue eyes, the pouty pink lips parted. You tense, prepared for some lewd comment or rude one, but he’s quiet – blinking those white spiky lashes, arms sliding down as Kiyotaka shuts the door, his gaze taking you in ever so slowly.

Achingly slow, as if he had all the time in the world. You felt yourself holding your breath as it lazily traveled down and back up your body, clutching your little black evening bag tightly.

“You look…” He trails off, shaking his head a bit.

How does Gojo say how good you look?

Since when is Satoru Gojo tongue tied like this? And he is tongue tied, you’re so pretty tonight he can hardly catch his heart from racing, so effortlessly beautiful always in your business suits, but he’s never seen you like this. Twenty sixth birthday and he came up with excuses to make you come with him.

Yeah, Satoru knows it’s your birthday.

He came up with the idea to ‘need you’ like the selfish little shit he is, like he comes up with every idea ever, random things he knows damn well he can do himself, but why would he? When he can look at his pretty assistant constantly, hear her angry sigh and smell whatever body spray she has sprtized on her?

Satoru Gojo was a dick, and he knows it.

“Thank you for the dress,” you say softly, as he just… stares.

“Of course, consider it my birthday gift,” he smirks then, as if he’s composed himself. “You look…”

Beautiful.

Gorgeous.

Ethereal.

“Really fucking hot.”

Really Satoru, can’t come up with anything better?

You giggle at that – not beautiful or breathtaking, but would that really be something Gojo would say? No, you’ll take it. “Thank you, the dress is so beautiful.”

“Your body is that banging and you hide it like that?” He was somehow right next to you suddenly, ever the sneaky little jerk, and you tremble a bit at the nearness. “I should reprimand you, as your boss ya know.”

You roll your eyes and snort. “I can’t dress like this at work, Gojo.”

“You sure the fuck can. I’m the boss, I say so,” his fingertips trailed down your shoulder, and it sends tingles through your body, making you even more irritated at him. Why is he so close? “I’m buying you an entire new wardrobe.”

“The fuck you are, I like to be professional, unlike you,” you smack his hand off errantly, and your bare shoulder grows cold without the touch, goosebumps laid out in a network across your skin.

“You do really look good,” you take in his outfit, a black tux which fit his slim muscles perfectly – It was some shit Bruce Wayne would wear at one of his charity auctions.

Maybe Gojo was some rich superhero or villain. It would fit.

“You do too,” you murmur softly. “You always do.”

“I know,” Satoru winks at you as you roll your eyes.

Conceited ass Satoru.

He’s leaning forward to snatch up champagne, brushing against you far too intimately, you hold your breath and jerk just a bit when he pops it, pouring you each a pretty flute full. You take one, letting the bubbles tickle your nose, sipping the tart drink, moaning softly and shutting your eyes.

“Delicious,” you lick your lower lip and find him a breath away once more. You don’t move, but you’re frozen in place, confused as he looks at you like he never has. “Satoru?”

“Are you really thinking of quitting?” He asks then, his voice breaking, eyes gone dark. You have never seen Gojo like this.

You blink just a bit, taking a breath. “Uh… how did you know?”

“I know everything, baby girl,” he gently runs his long fingers through your hair, a rare frown on his lips.

“Baby girl? What the heck, Satoru… Yes I was thinking of it, and seducing me is not going to change my mind. Is that the point of this?” You demand, irritated, and against your better judgement, fucking horny.

Fuck Gojo – not literally.

His eyes study your own seriously now, jaw setting. “If that was my intention, you’d damn sure know.”

Your breaths come faster, every word was pouring like honey from his tongue, his hand tightening in your hair, yanking your head back ever so slightly to look up at him – making your mind race.

Imagine him pulling it when you…

Satoru’s imagining it right now, pulling your hair as you suck his cock down your loud little mouth, fucking your throat till it’s sore and you can’t talk the next day. Filthy images as the strands card through his fingers, and you scowl up at him, your hands clenched into fists against his chest, on the material of his dress shirt.

God you’re pretty.

“Oh, would I?” You challenge him, god you always do, notching your chin up a bit, Satoru laughs without humor.

“How many women have you heard me fuck in my office, hmm?” You swallow nervously, eyes narrowing. “How many have you had to send home for me? You think I don’t know how to fuck you dumb if I wanted to? Think I couldn’t rail your pretty cunt so hard you squirt all over me? Oh sweetheart, you wouldn’t even be able to walk when I finished with you.”

Gojo’s filthy fucking whisper was against your lips, it’s goddamn diabolical how he talks, you could taste the champagne sweet on his breath, mixed with his mints he constantly sucks on, your mouth almost salivates in his proximity. He wasn’t touching you, but he was so close you could feel him, those images running rampant.

“I won’t fuck you though, so what’s the point of even joking about it!? You don’t want me anyway. Not your type,” he snorts at that, one of his big hands on your waist, touching the bare skin on your back and wreaking havoc on every sense you’ve ever had.

“You know my type?”

“I sure do,” his thumb brushes underneath your breast, an action that makes your nipples tighten, aching as they press against the sequined gown. Damn if his gaze didn’t drop down, noticing the peaks and humming to himself.

“The women who entertain me,” his fingers move in little circles against your ribcage, eyes shooting back up to yours. “They aren’t necessarily my type.”

“Hmm,” it’s difficult to focus, you sip your champagne, leaning back a bit, but Gojo’s grip stays, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it. “It doesn’t matter, you’re just talking out of your ass. Too much cocaine tonight?”

His grip tightens, and it makes you gasp, looking up at his darkened eyes in the dim light of the limo. “I haven’t had any, I’m just pretty fucking irritated my best assistant wants to leave. You’re ungrateful.”

“Ungrateful!” You snort at that, tossing back the champagne and grabbing at his hand, his wrist, tugging at it. “How the fuck, Satoru? I literally do everything for you!”

“And I pay you damn good!”

“I know,” you scowl up at him. “Guess what? I’d rather be broke somewhere than do sixteen hour days. It’s my damn birthday and here I am!”

Satoru scoffs and your fingers itch to smack him. “As if you really had plans. You have no friends and no life.”

“Bullshit,” you grit your teeth, shoving at his hard chest. “That’s because I have no damn time to make any! You think I wouldn’t have a boyfriend or something by now?”

“Maybe that’s your problem, why you’re so bitchy and stuck up all the damn time. You need to get fucked good.”

You slap him then. Slap your Boss.

Slap Gojo Satoru.

His hand catches your wrist, long fingers wrapping it tightly, pale cheek just blooming pink from your mark, your hand stings from the hit, breath making your chest rise and fall as his lips curve down.

“Ring a little true, sweetheart?”

“I can get fucked if I want, any time thank you very much,” you yank your hand back and shake it out.

“I didn’t say that, clearly you can get fucked,” his voice deepens, as he imagines all the ways he’d have you. “It’s just you don’t even want to, and you blame it on my hours, as if you were the type to fuck around.”

“I’d fuck Nanami Kento if I had any damn time,” Gojo’s eyes widen at that, brows raised. “Yep. Sure would, he’s handsome – oh and he remembered my birthday. If either of us had time I sure would, so does that answer it for you?”

Your heart beats in your chest, brutally, the thudding loud in your ears as the blood rushes through at the statement, and Gojo’s grip on your waist tightens. “You would fuck… Nanami Kento?”

Ah, you made him mad – Good.

“Who wouldn’t? He’s hot,” you shrug casually, smiling all fucking mean at him now.

“Out of anyone in the office?” He asks, voice quiet – this side of Gojo no one ever really sees, when he’s utterly jealous, unhinged and insane.

You make him this way.

“Mmhmm,” you answer, then he smirks.

“Including me?”

You open your mouth to say yes, but you know it’s not fucking true. Of course you’d have fucked Gojo, if he wasn’t a dick boss, if he was just a man…

Look at him, who wouldn’t?

“Cat got your tongue?” His free hand catches your chin, forcing your gaze to his.

You swallow nervously, licking your lips and drawing his attention to them. “No.”

“No, what?”

“No… not including you, fuck is that what you want to hear? That I’m not blind? Of course you’re attractive, and you know it, stupid!”

He scoffs. “You’re childish.”

“Me, childish!? You are!” You shove at him again, and he lets you go, you take a greedy breath and down more champagne. “It changes nothing, I am planning to leave. I will find a replacement, someone even better than me.”

“There is no one better,” his voice sounds so damn hurt – it sounds sincere, a rare thing for Gojo, emotion cracking in his voice as he downs his own glass and looks away from you.

“You think what, fucking me will keep me as your damn assistant?”

“It’s worth a shot, I’m the best fuck there is,” you scoff at that, Satoru just shrugs, some of that casual, conceited demeanor coming back, and you wanted to yell at your body for its reaction.

“It won’t happen,” you say firmly now. He smiles.

“Yeah? Why?”

“You’re my boss!”

“But you’re leaving.”

“I…” Fuck him.

“Hmm? You seem at a loss for words,” you scowl, looking out the window as the lights flickered by, setting down your drink and crossing your arms.

“Are we there yet?”

He laughs now. “See? Childish.”

“Says you!”

“You need a good orgasm, or ten. Get you to be less of a stuck up nag,” you gasp at his audacity, turning back and seeing his mean little grin.

“I do not! And I am not stuck up!”

“You do, and you are.”

“I orgasm plenty, thanks!” You feel your body on fire at that, and Gojo couldn’t look more satisfied, like the Cheshire fucking cat, the grin as wide as it could go, running his hand through his silken white locks that fall a little too perfect.

“Oh, do tell, pretty little assistant,” he practically purrs those words, leaning forward. “I’m dying to know how.”

“Cut the shit, Satoru,” you roll your eyes at him. “You’ve never talked like this in the years I’ve worked with you, where the fuck do you get off?”

“I get off on women, or in their mouths…” He shrugs like the little slut he is, enjoying your open mouth, once again lost for words.

“You know I did not mean that!” You hiss.

“Where do you get off? On a dildo maybe,” you blink, eyebrows low in a scowl, wanting to hit him again. “No, don’t look the type. Maybe a rose toy. Hmm… or just these little things.”

Gojo lifts your hand, ridiculously small in his own grip – the man has five inch fingers or more, you swear, and the touch alone is ruining you – the sight of your hand swallowed by him.

“They don’t hit deep enough, do they?” His whisper is so damn cocky, you can’t stand him.

Can’t stand thinking of his fingers inside you.

You’re breathless, as he holds out his own hand against yours, fingers so fucking long they rivaled the length of men you’ve been with. Likely larger than the couple of dudes in college, which was about all of your experience, Gojo’s probably done more in a night that you have – slutty ass CEO Nepo baby that he is.

“I… you…” You want to cuss him out, quit right then.

You should quit!

You also want his fingers inside your now soaking wet cunt.

Fuck him.

“I could get you off, put you in a good mood,” his hand takes your own, putting it right between your thighs, making you whimper. “We don’t have to fuck for that, there are so many ways I can keep my pretty assistant happy.”

“Why… are you…act- acting like this?” You manage to breathe out, but you have no energy to move away from him, or shove his hand off. – because if you were being honest with yourself, you’d love to fuck your frustration out on him.

“Maybe I realize how much I need you to stay as my assistant,” Gojo’s plump lips kiss down your jaw, his hand gently pressing yours against your soppy little cunt over those panties, moaning in your ear. “Is my assistant already so hot for me? Are you that easy to get wet?”

You bite your lower lip, feeling your own fingers led by his brush over your soaking wet panties. “F-fuck off…” It’s a whisper, a pathetic one at that – you want it, and you hate him.

You hate that your walls are just pulsing around nothing, that your clit is eagerly twitching against your joined fingers through the barrier of your panties, that the moan of your name from his lips against your ear made you wonder what he sounded like when he came.

Gojo slides his own finger against your panties for a brief moment as he moves yours – pausing, moaning again in that slutty way he does – pulling back to look at you.

You’re so fucking wet, all Satoru can do is imagine burying his face, letting you use him – every time he pisses you off you could push him to his knees and spread those pretty thighs, You could make him lick, kiss, taste your pretty cunt as his endless apologies, as he drags his fingertip higher, and uses his more than yours, he watches you.

You were so gorgeous like this.

“Fuck,” he whispers, something was just different about you. Gojo with women was always so self assured, but something about touching you has him vulnerable, when his long finger presses against the damp sticky fabric, just grazing your clit. “Sweetheart…”

He shouldn’t talk like that, look like that, you’re arching your hips up, and his fingertip is running up up slightly, pressing more firmly, your hand grips his collar, tugging him close. You’re dumb to do this, to roll your hips and whine all needy, watching as his eyes go black.

Gojo’s lips were just a breath away…

“We’re here, Sir, my Lady,” Kiyotaka’s voice has you both realize the limo had stopped.

Fuck.

You two shoot apart, and you struggle to catch your breath, adjusting your dress hastily, gulping down one more glass for good measure. Gojo turns and adjusts his pants, tugging his cock up into his waist band so he wouldn’t have a bulge at this damn event – not even looking at you.

How can he look at you without sinking to his knees and begging you to coat his face right now?

He turns back and clears his throat, you curse softly when you finally notice his tie is all fucked up.

“You can’t tie properly, Satoru,” you murmur, leaning over to him, pulling it apart gently and re-tying it until it’s perfect. You notice his Adam's apple bob up and down, and he’s shockingly quiet, just looking at you.

Gojo Satoru, quiet.

“There,” your hands linger, your eyes darting up to his lips once more.

“Thanks,” he says gruffly, and your eyes meet, the two of you at a loss for words in the quiet of the limo.

What the fuck just happened?

Kiyotaka opens the door, exposing you both gratefully to some cool night air, and you get out, curious just how the fuck this birthday night was going to go.

loves i'm dying to hear what you think ahhhh! ofc i'll always love the original and keep that up but I'm excited for this <3

even when he’d save you the last red ice-pop instead of sister because you liked them better and she always tossed them halfway through. even when he’d let you sit on the back of his bike in the summer because you’d never quite learned how to ride. even when he’d invited you to his all boys birthday party, and walked you out of the laser tag room because you’d been too scared of the dark to keep playing. you remember his sister being upset with you that day.

you realise that you like him very early on. yuuji itadori, that is. yuuji who had been the first ever boy to say your hair looked nice after your mum made it pretty with a new silk ribbon. yuuji who smelled like the park on a hot day, like tarmac but also earthy because he’d come home coated in soil down to his scraped knees that bled through his jeans. yuuji who chased his little sister through the house with mud tracks, blamed it on the two of you but ended up stuck with the punishment anyways. the same yuuji who went to middle school ahead of you both just by two years and deemed it his duty to walk you home from elementary, he’d wait for you by the gates all scary with bandages on his cheeks from the fights he’d get into, but smiley all the same.

yuuji, who carried you back home the summer before you started high school when you broke your wrist running the woods behind his house — who didn’t flinch when your best friend scolded him for being a clutz. it was her fault not his. it’s always funny to see them bicker, she’s always so protective of you and yuuji the same. you feel a part of their bond, like you belong with the two of them at your side … which is why the guilt hurts when you start to look at yuuji differently that summer. when he starts to grow into his looks and your heart starts to flutter every time he’s near.

you try not to overthink how much he cares for you, staying awake with you while you wait in the ER to be seen — smiling with you and holding your free hand when they put a cast on you. he bares the burden of telling your parents, begs them not to punish you but him instead. for a girl at fourteen it’s chivalry. you pretend it isn’t love.

in high school you walk the halls with your best friend, fully in love with her brother — you pretend it doesn’t hurt that he’s become so popular, that all the cheerleaders seem to have his attention and he’s got so many friends he doesn’t need to hang out with his little sister and her minion anymore. you sit through awkward double dates at the local diner so your friend can get closer to her crush but your heart most looks forward to yuuji picking you both up at the end of the night in the old truck he decides to fix up in time for college.

“boys your age don’t know what they want,” he leans back from the driver’s seat to tell you — hair wild and brown eyes warm. “be careful.”

and you want to ask him if he knows what he wants. if it’s you. you don’t.

the two years where, yuuji is in college before you can join him are the worst. he hardly visits, off on his sports scholarship which takes up all his time and you miss him more than anything — hopelessly in love and endlessly yearning. your best friend gets a boyfriend and suddenly life doesn’t feel like how it was back then, no more ice pops made with red fruit and juices that run down your arm, no more strapped knees and hospital rooms for sprained bones. no more late night drives in yuuji’s truck after curfew. it hurts, and the boys at school suck — they’re not kind like itadori is.

when you’re in college yourself, it’s all the same. boys still suck except they major in business or economics or compsci and party instead of studying. your best friend is at a college two hours away and you take turns visiting one another every weekend — she barely brings up yuuji, but the little fragments she shares of him still makes your heart flutter. you ask if he has a girlfriend. he’s never brought anyone back home for winter break. once the weekends end, you’re back on your own again rolling through the mundane with your heart tucked under your sleeve until you see it. him. pink hair and brown eyes, his laugh catching in the spring breeze — yuuji is there. on your campus for some kind of away game and when he sees you. everything clicks. it feels right.

after practise that day he takes you for a drive, still in his truck from high school — couldn’t get rid of her, too many memories. your laugh is woven into the seatbelts in the back seat and your tears are probably soaked in the material too. yuuji drove down ahead of his teammates to visit a friend, not a girl. he adds. the whole drive your heart hammers in your chest so loud you think he might be able to hear it and if he does — yuuji says nothing. though he looks at you every five seconds, gaze flickering away from the road to watch your face. the silence broken into pieces by the small, aimless questions he asks you. how’ve you been? are you liking your classes and …

“can i kiss you?”

he asks once you’ve stopped, hidden somewhere in the back of a fast food parking lot. your conversation had lulled, but the tension had grown thick — so much so that not even a knife could slide through. the fries the cinnamon twists itadori had ordered for you both cool on the console between you, brown eyes are hazy and hooded with an emotion you can’t quite place — striking nerves through your heart almost like cupid’s arrow. you’ve wanted nothing more for a decade and a half. To be looked at by yuuji in the way he’s looking at you now. to be wanted by him.

“why?” you ask.

yuuji leans closer, the palm of his hand sliding to cup your face. “i’ve missed you, is all.”

he says back.

a million thoughts rush through your mind, the longing you’ve always felt. the stupid, teenage girl crush that’s always lingered in the back of your mind. the guilt you’d feel hiding this from your best friend, his little sister — his only sister. she’s all you have left, a constant in your life … but your selfishness overrides anything you feel towards her. the promise you’d made in crayon on a4 paper as a child disintegrating into dust as you nod eagerly, shyly, leaning into yuuji’s touch like someone might rip it away from you all too soon.

“please?” you blink slow, doe like in a manner that makes itadori groan as though he’s been shot in the chest. it’s needy, hungry and it makes you melt in your seat. “please kiss me, yuuji…”

within a heart beat his lips are on yours, searing feverish like glass that’s been heated to the highest degree. there’s so much feeling behind the way yuuji moves, tender love and notes of longing and maybe lust that no longer feels like it’s one sided. when he kisses you everything sort of… clicks into place, this is what you’ve needed and dreamed of for years and it’s everything you wanted. his hand slips to the back of your neck, comforting and possessive as though he doesn’t want you to slip through his fingers, and he pulls you further into the messy lip lock. his tongue swipes over your bottom lip, tasting the strawberry lip balm you’d slapped on earlier — yuuji asks, he doesn’t take. waiting for you to open up to him like a flower in bloom.

your own fingers tangle in messy, windswept hair that reminds you of the cherry blossoms across campus — they tug at and tighten in his locks bringing him further into you to the point where you think itadori might crawl over the console just to have you. he tastes like red-juice popsicles and feels like the summer sun beating down on your skin. yuuji feels like home against you and it’s something that you didn’t even know you’d missed.

things progress faster than you realise, not that you mind, and it should feel wrong, so , so wrong to be kissing your best friend’s older brother like this — to be letting him pull you into the back seat, hands sliding under your worn out high school hoodie to settle on your hips as he tugs you onto his lap. you should feel sick to your stomach every time he moans your name like it’s a sin he’s been waiting to taste his whole life.

you gasp itadori’s name back almost rehearsed — like you haven’t pictured him with you like this before. and when he rocks his hips up against yours, concealed hardness straining against his jeans with the touch material hot on your clit through your denim shorts, the world stops just for the top of you. “waited so long,” yuuji mumbles, lips swollen, breathing ragged and hands everywhere. “never thought you’d let me…”

“i’ve wanted this,” you breathe into his mouth, tongue curled against his and your salvia smeared across his rosy lips. yuuji blinks up at you like you’ve just given him the whole world and you lazily sling your arms over his broad shoulders — hiding in your own bicep, suddenly shy. “i’ve always wanted you.”

smiling to himself, yuuji’s hands map their way up to your ribcage, feeling for your thrumming heart — dizzy from the heat in his car and the confession on your lips. carefully, he pulls you back and forth over his lap, watching you fight and lose your own battle of holding back dulcet mewls and whimpers. “you have no idea how happy that makes me, to hear you say that.” he kisses your cheek, much gentler than before. his forehead presses into your cheek and itadori grinds harder, faster making sure there’s a constant delightful pressure against your throbbing clit.

his long lashes flutter against your cheek like angel’s kisses — barely there, unlike the thickness of his clothed erection against your soaking mound, as it drools between the layers of your clothes. he lets you hug him close, lets you swivel yourself down on him and take what you need in the back of his car. the one where you’d laughed with your best friend, cried against his little sister.

casting her from your mind, you screw your eyes shut and focus on the blistering bliss that brews in your lower belly. chanting his name as though it’s all you’ve ever known. “yuu, yuuji — ah! it feels…” you whisper, brain miles behind the pace of your hips as they buck down against his. when yuuji pushes up, you push down, that little pleasure nub tucked between puffy pussy lips catching on his rock hard girth. “feels so—”

wrong. so good. so insane and crazy. but you can’t stop, wanting him, needing him, grinding on him.

“i know baby, i know,” yuuji whimpers, pet name slipping out like its natural — too far gone. “feel it too, you got me. ‘m right here. promise, i’m with you.”

itadori hugs you close now, the strength of his arms tugging you across his lap and his length until you’re both panting messes slumped against one another — the tensions and the highs you’ve been building stacking so high there’s no choice but for all of it to come crashing down. you’re all curses and cumming, orgasms that rip through space and time in sync, soaking your shorts and running his jeans. it’s messy, has you trembling but yuuji is in no better state, lips dropping to your collar bones as you sniffle into his hair. both of you ruined for everyone else but each other.

regret should follow fast, you should push him away and have him drive you home because you’ve betrayed the only other person in your life to have cared. your best friend, mere miles away — expecting to see you this weekend, ready to greet you with her adoring smile and big heart she’s always kept you in. you should feel like shit for fucking her older brother.

but you don’t and you don’t care what happens beyond tonight, because you’ve wanted yuuji for longer than you’ve ever known and maybe naively you think this’ll work out.

this falling in love and fucking your best friend’s older brother behind her back thing.

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