شيرين

you spend some time on your own that evening, just reading a book out on the balcony whilst yuta and megumi hangout for some much needed 'bro time'. they have been best friends since high school, after all, nearly ten years now. when you look at them- both of them- your heart warms.

it also tightens with something you still haven't dared admitting to yourself yet.

there's a series of quiet whines originating from megumi's bedroom as you exit the bathroom later after taking a shower. your stomach flips, because they sound so pretty. your eyes move between yuta's door down the hallway and his.

curiousity wins, and your feet pad quietly towards megumi's room. you freeze right outside of his door when you hear a name- your name- fall from his mouth.

"y-y/n," he whimpers. you clench around nothing as you press your ear up against the wood. you can hear the muffled plaps of him fisting his cock, lips parting the more you listen as if they're waiting for him to slip it inside of your mouth. "fuck-"

"so, you finally noticed?"

yuta's eerily calm voice rips you away from the door. his eyes are dark, ruthless, once you meet them. he's smirking, arms crossed as he leans against the doorframe of his room; you were so focused on listening to megumi that you didn't hear his own door open.

"yuta," you breathe, heart thumping wildly, "i-i can explain."

"explain what exactly?" he coos, teasingly stepping closer to you. "that you were listening to my best friend fuck himself, call out your name, and you liked it?"

he's hovering in front you now, looking devilish. megumi's gone completely quiet on the other side.

"that's not true," your voice barely reaches a whisper.

"isn't it, though?" yuta continues. "you seem to forget you've been my girlfriend for three years and i know what you look like when you like something," his breath trickles down the side of your neck as he leans over your ear, "when you want something."

megumi throws open the door, yuta's arms wrapping around your back to keep your from falling through.

he looks horrified, yet its mixed with something unreadable. yuta's smiling wickedly, hands teasingly sliding down to grab your ass. you yelp.

"yuta," megumi exhales, voice strained. "what-"

"this is what you've been wanting, right?" yuta stares directly at him as he curls his lips up further and fingertips slide beneath the material of your pajama shorts, "you've been wanting to fuck my girl, no?"

megumi stays silent, just watching as your body shudders from yuta's possesive, purposefully tempting touch.

"yuta," you warn him, throwing your palms up against his chest. "what are you playing at?"

he hmphs, "nothing, really, just thought my two favourite people deserve to get what they want."

megumi's eyes widen, his hands shaking as they still grip the doorknob. "what are you trying to say?" his throat rasps, then swallows hard.

yuta releases your body and slips past both of you into the room like he owns it. he sits down on the bed with that heinous, plotting look still resting on his face.

"you know exactly what i'm saying, but i'll spell it out for you," he pauses his condescending, fiery words, flickering his gaze between the two of you still watching him cautiously from the doorway, eyes hooding lower.

"i don't mind sharing."

megumi can hardly breathe when he has your mouth stuffed full with his leaky, greedy cock, fisting your hair pathetically as his glassy irises watch yuta fuck you raw and deep from behind.

"always knew you were a fucking nasty girl," yuta grits his teeth, palm meeting your ass with a hard slap. "feels good, baby? feels good letting us make a wreck out of you?"

you moan loudly around megumi's length and he sucks in his teeth.

"shit," he curses, pulling out of your mouth near completely just to shove himself roughly back down your throat. "you're so fucking warm around me."

you choke as he fills your mouth moments later with a harsh cry, eyes rolling as he forces you to bob up and down his length by your tangled hair to milk him dry.

"yeah- fuck," he thrums, "take all of it, baby."

the sight of your flushed, fucked-out face and his cum dripping from your lips is the prettiest sight he's ever seen.

"look at you," yuta purrs, slowing into deep, hard thrusts. your throat cracks and your face collapses against the mattress. "mouth fucking soaked with my friend's cum, bet you're proud of that, hm?"

you don't manage to speak. megumi props your chin up with a grip to the jaw, bringing your head back up enough to look him right in the eye.

"say you're proud," he demands, and you squeeze around yuta's cock.

"i-i'm proud," you whimper. he smiles. "so fucking p-proud."

yuta growls, fingers digging into your waist as his hips begin to stutter. "fuck," he moans, "megumi, make her come for me," he hisses, "play with her pretty little pussy aaaall nice and good." megumi shifts closer to reach your clit. "need to be inside when she falls apart."

your body shakes and convulses violently, yuta's grip on it being the only thing keeping you in place. "holy fuck," you whine, "i'm so close-"

his eyes roll when you finally squirt all over his thick, needy cock with a piercing cry, fingers gripping the sheets like your life depends on it. "mmm," yuta hums, "thatta girl, fucking made for this cock."

"fuck," megumi inhales sharply, "you're so damn perfect, look at you coming like a good girl." he dips his head down to your puffy cunt and licks up the residue of your releases once yuta pulls out of you, moaning loudly into your folds. "so pretty when you're ruined."

megumi's gently rubbing your stomach, yuta's sweetly feathering your skin and you're toying with their hair as the three of you come to a still, heavy, panting breaths falling near silent.

yuta's face is still laced with the same, smug intention. "this isn't the last time we're doing this, by the way." he states it like its a fact.

because it is.

you chuckle to yourself before returning your attention to your own responsibilities. just like the girls at the company say, satoru is a very attractive man. bright cerulean eyes, beautiful snow white hair, tall and slim– with looks like that, of course he would be most, if not every, woman’s dream man. 

the constant office gossip made you uncomfortable, but it did spark your curiosity. satoru wasn’t one to talk much to others. he was seemingly a lone wolf who always buried himself in his work. he never made any mention of a significant other, nor showed signs that he had one. there were debates going around of whether or not he was gay, because he barely interacted with women, but he didn’t talk much with the men, either. so, it became mutually decided between mostly everyone– not including yourself, since you weren’t interested in their idle gossip– that he was either completely inexperienced or just didn’t care about sex and romance at all. or, what you assumed in your own head, that he was just a private person. the only thing people knew about him was his love for film, which was easy enough to figure out without him having to say anything about it– though he had mentioned it before– because of the sheer amount of movie posters he had pinned up to decorate his cubicle. 

there’s a sudden clap of hands, grabbing everyone’s attention. your boss is now standing right outside the door of his office. “i just wanted to offer my deepest gratitude to all of you for all of the hard work so far this year,” he announces, “i look forward to celebrating with everyone this evening.”

the room breaks out into an eruption of applause and whistles, your coworkers becoming a bit rowdy at the reminder that there was a work party that evening to commemorate the company’s recent milestone. you rolled your eyes a little at the fact that the vibes always seemed so fratty. it’s not that you didn’t drink and enjoy it from time to time yourself, but it was an interesting experience seeing your fellow salarymen act like college students again at these functions. 

you take notice of satoru squeezing his eyes shut tightly, probably trying to block out the ear-piercing screams and hollers so he can keep focusing on his work. when he opens them back up, he catches you watching him for a moment and sends you a small smile.

your chest tightens. what the hell was that? he’s never smiled, let alone looked at you before– or… has he? you clear your throat, heat rising to your cheeks as you return the same, friendly gesture.

the rest of the day seems to drag on, and by the time you’re back home after clocking out, you already pretty much have to turn around and go out again. you weren’t forced to go to this work party, but frankly, you hadn’t done anything beyond going back and forth to the office for the past few weeks, so you felt the need to let loose a little. this was just an easy, free way to do so since the food and drinks were already paid for, and the venue itself was only a few blocks away from your apartment. 

you fluff out your hair before plopping on a final layer of gloss, popping your lips as you finish. “damn,”  you smile at your reflection in the mirror, “i look hot as shit.”

a large portion of the company is already at the hotel when you arrive, loud chatter and clanking of glasses echoing throughout the space. you spot utahime, one of the only other somewhat normal people in your department, sending her a quick wave as you shuffle over towards her. you nearly trip on your heels, but play it off smoothly enough that no one seems to notice. you were happy to save yourself the embarrassment. 

“hey,” you greet her, “you look so cute!”

“you, too,” she smiles, passing you a glass of champagne, “that dress is lethal.”

you laugh. “thanks, uta.”

you weren’t exactly planning to drink much, but with your constant flow of conversations with people, it just sort of happened unintentionally. by drink number four, your eyes are searching mindlessly for satoru in the crowd.

“would he even come to this?” you thought to yourself. “he hates people.”

but he is there, and he is talking to people, holding a cocktail in one hand, the other reaching out for a handshake with a man you didn’t quite recognize, and your heart races. you nearly pass out when you see the suit he’s wearing. it hugs his body so delectably, and the way the sleeves are cuffed… shit, you needed him to put you in a headlock.

…what?

you don’t even realize it until you’re stopped directly in front of his body that you walked over towards him.

“oh, hey, y/n,” he greets politely, bowing slightly. the other men standing around him are distracted and in their own conversations at this point, leaving satoru pretty much on his own. “nice to see you.”

“likewise,” your words slur a bit and you hear him laugh. “you look nice.”

“thanks,” he smiles, “you do, too.” he stuffs a hand into his pocket before sipping at his drink again. you can’t help but stare at his adam’s apple as it bobs in his throat. just what the fuck was going on with you?

“did you need something?” he asks, not meaning to sound rude, just genuinely curious.

right. you didn’t have a reason to walk over to him, you just… did it without thinking. what now? “oh, i was just wondering if you saw quentin tarantino’s new film yet?” you asked, pulling an excuse out of your ass. it wasn’t complete bullshitting, though, you did notice that he had a ‘pulp fiction’ poster at his desk.

“i haven’t, but i’ve been meaning to,” he answers simply, “did you? was it good?”

you shook your head. “not yet.” there’s a brief silence that falls over the two of you, and it’s just enough to cause all of your inhibitions to crack. “i’m sorry the girls in the office keep talking shit about you,” you apologize out of the blue.

he lifts his brow in confusion. “what?”

your mouth moves on its own. “they always talk about how you must be a virgin, or you’re just weird as fuck because you hardly ever talk to any of them– i don’t think that, for the record– and it drives me crazy,” you release a dramatic sigh.

he’s smirking at you now, eyes lowering into something dark, but you don’t seem to pick up on it. “do they now?” he coos. “that’s hilarious.”

“that’s what i say,” you huff, “they don’t know anything about you, i’m sure you’re just a private person.”

“i am.”

“see!” you snap your fingers in discovery, “i knew that had to be the case.”

he’s looking deeply into your eyes, watching your pupils dilate and retract as they fight against the dim lighting, alcohol, and attraction. satoru wasn’t stupid. he definitely picked up on the subtleties you emitted, and this wasn’t the first time, either. he noticed back in the office too, when he smiled at you, amongst other past moments.

“if you want,” he starts, going back to the subject of movies, “you could come over to my place sometime and we can watch the movie together? you know, tarantino’s.”

he has a second motivation for inviting you, because now he wants to fuck the living daylights out of you out of spite of your chidlish, gossiping coworkers. he’s been with plenty of people, unbeknownst to them. he knows he’s a skilled lover. he’ll get the last laugh while you’ll get the best sex of your life. really, its a win-win situation.

you already forgot what you were talking about beforehand. he didn’t, though. “sure!” you beam, cheeks flushed and legs stumbling a bit. you were trying to keep yourself upright and balanced; definitely no more drinks for you.

satoru chuckles, grabbing your waist in time to keep you from falling over. “careful.”

your skin burns where his fingertips lay, and you swallow hard, thighs tightening. satoru notices.

everyone in the office is hungover when you arrive the next morning. throwing a party on a tuesday evening was certainly… a choice. thankfully, you hydrated enough throughout it that you just had a slight headache, so it was easy enough to deal with.

satoru catches you in the cafeteria at lunch. “hey,” he greets. you can already sense the eyes and hushed whispers of the women surrounding you when he does. “you free friday night?”

he wasn’t very subtle about it, his voice echoing through the entire room. you hear a series of gasps and chatter from the others. your face turns crimson whilst you try to block them out. 

“yeah,” you answer, “why?”

“wanna come over to watch the movie like i mentioned?”

you blink at him. “movie?”

he laughs. “last night, remember? we were talking about tarantino’s new film, and i offered to have us watch it together sometime and you agreed.”

the vague memory starts to come back to you. “oh, right,” you say, “sure.”

“great,” he smiles, passing you his phone so you can add your contact, “i’ll text you the address.”

you take it from his hands, fingertips nervously pressing the screen as your coworkers’ gazes burn into the back of your skull. “here,” you clear your throat, passing it back to him.

“thanks,” he says, “how’s seven?”

you nod. “seven works.”

“perfect.”

for the next few days, all you seem to be receiving from your female coworkers is scoffs and eye rolls. it’s ironic that they’d be upset about you spending time with satoru. weren’t they the ones assuming he was a bad person just because he didn’t openly talk about his personal life? seems like they were just jealous and in denial that they actually want him.

satoru’s hovering over your desk now. “any snacks or drinks you want for tonight?” he asks. “i have a few things sitting around the apartment, but i’ll stop by the store on the way home if there’s anything specific you’d like.”

your heart warms at the offer. “i’m good with just water, but if you find a nice tub of guac for chips, that’d be great.”

“you got it,” he smiles, tapping his palm on the back of your chair.

you weren’t really sure what to wear to satoru’s. it was never clarified by either of you if this night was meant to be a date, but you still felt this pressing need to look nice. you groan, eventually settling on a cute v-neck and skinny jeans. it was the best thing you could come up with that screamed ‘i want to look nice for you but not overdue it because i don’t actually know what this night is supposed to be and i don’t want to seem desperate’. 

in short: nonchalant. 

satoru’s place is unsurprisingly clean and organized; it matched his calculated, logical work persona perfectly.

“hey,” he greets, stepping aside to let you in, “everything’s already set up in the living room, you can take a seat on the couch while i finish putting the dishes away.”

you nod, slipping past him towards the living room. you plop down on the couch, already curling into the blanket that’s sitting beside you.

you hear satoru chuckle from the kitchen. “already making yourself comfortable, huh?” he teases. your face runs hot, stomach twisting. you really didn’t think that through. “cute,” he smirks. you nearly let out an audible gasp. 

truthfully, you couldn’t focus much on the movie, but at least satoru seemed to be able to. you watch him through your peripheral, analyzing his reactions to each scene. “so you can show an expression like that,” you think to yourself, enjoying learning more about the one and only satoru gojo. 

there’s an obvious tension brewing between the two of you whilst you help him clean up the snacks and drinks after the movie is over. the accidental brushes of your skin against his sends fire straight to your core.

“is he really a virgin?” you wonder, the gossip of your peers intrusively entering your thoughts, “he seems well put together, not weird at all… he’s gotta have, or at least had, someone… right?”

he’s crossing his arms with his back leaning against the countertop. “why are you staring?” he asks, looking smug.

you heart thumps widely in your chest, and you quickly divert your eyes away from him. “i was just lost in thought,” you swallow.

“hm.”

the tension is sharper now. satoru accidentally bumps into you when turning around from the sink and it sends you backwards into the island. his body is still pressed against yours, hands on your shoulders that were originally there in an attempt to keep you from getting hurt. 

“sorry,” he mutters. his eyes don’t move away from yours.

“it’s fine.” you gulp, pupils growing exponentially.

you hear him huff as his gaze flickers down to your lips. the kitchen is penetrated with searing desire– there is no room for denial. 

he takes a deep breath. “can i–”

“yeah.”

his lips are on yours in a millisecond, his large palms saving your back from sliding down the side of the counter. he gropes your ass and picks you up, placing your firmly on top of the marble surface, hands roaming all over the outside and underneath your shirt, tongue slipping to the back of your throat. you moan, hands grabbing his shoulders as you force him closer. he lets out a quiet growl as your clothed core brushes against his bulge. 

“been thinking about this since the party,” he admits, teeth clashing against teeth, “and when you told me what the girls said that night, figured i had to put a stop to the rumors,” he chuckles.

your eyes roll as his hands cup your breasts. “but i never believed them,” you moan, nails digging into his shoulders.

“that’s true,” he pulls away from your mouth, quickly pulling off your shirt and unclasping your bra, “but i still want to prove you wrong, anyway.” his lips are on your hardened nipples, alternating between each one as he swirls his tongue over them. you hum sweetly, clenching around nothing as his hands grip your thighs fervently. 

“mmm, and what will you do?” you tease, wrapping your legs around his waist and jerking his body forward.

his smile is wicked, much different from before. “depends on how much you want me to hold back,” he says. he kisses you again.

you break it a moment later and look at him, irises cutting deeply into his. “nothing. hold back absolutely nothing.”

three minutes later, your face is shoved into the mattress, ass up, whilst your spit coats the gag ball in your mouth and drips all over the sheets, hands tied behind your back with the leather burning your skin. you cry as satoru licks and flicks your clit and scissors into your hole with his long, slender fingers. your thighs shake violent as the palm of his free hand meets your ass with a painful sting, an ungodly moan escaping your throat.

satoru’s groaning into your folds, moving his head left to right as he devours you like his favourite meal. you can hardly breathe as his fingers curl up into your gummy spot, thighs clamping shut around his head. he slaps your ass again in warning. “open up,” he hums.

the sounds are filthy, plops of his fingers moving in and out of you and his tongue slurping at your cunt echoing off the bedroom walls.

“oh, god– fuck,” you gasp, fists squeezing tightly shut with resolve, “i’m gonna fucking come–” your voice is muffled from the gag ball, but satoru hears you clearly. he slaps your ass for a third time and your juices waterfall out of you, uncontrollable whines dripping from your mouth as you come all over his face and hand. “oh my god!”

“fuck, yeah,” satoru growls into your folds. he’s not stopping, in fact, he speeds up his pace, “look at you fucking squirting down my throat, nasty girl.”

you’re moving along with his tongue and fingers involuntarily, desperately grasping for another orgasm. satoru moves his hand from your ass to grip your thigh, digging his fingertips into them to keep you from moving away from him too much. you’re panting like a bitch, nails practically ripping through the skin of your palms as you come a second time with a loud groan. satoru whines, eyes rolling, swallowing every last drop of you.

he’s not done yet. 

he lifts his face up from your cunt and smirks down at you as he flattens his palm against your sensitive pussy with a loud smack, watching your body in awe as it recoils from the impact. he slides his tongue up your spine before undressing himself, quickly returning to hover over your back. his mouth falls beside your ear. “you look so perfect like this,” he coos, “tied up and ready to be fucking ruined.” his hand finds the front of your throat and you gasp. he squeezes, but not too tightly just yet, biting his lip as he watches your body squirm in his grip. “yeah, you like that?” he slaps your pussy again and you choke, “want me to destroy this fucking pussy?”

“p–please,” you attempt to say, but it’s difficult with the gag ball still perched between your lips.

satoru lets out a snicker before forcing you up aggressively by your hair, your back now resting against his chest. he wraps one hand around the front of you to play with your pussy as he continues to choke you with the other, red, throbbing cock sliding into your battered hole with ease. you whimper as he bottoms you out, body feeling so overwhelmingly good being stuffed full.

“shit,” he huffs, starting to move you along him, “you’re soaked, baby, oh my god,” he bites down on your shoulder and you yelp. “jesus fucking christ, you’re so tight.”

your tied palms behind you try to flatten against his abdomen for leverage as you desperately thrust along with him while he fucks you to the hilt. “fuck, fuck,” you moan, beginning to reach your peak.

“gonna come for me again?” satoru purrs, pinching then slapping your clit and you scream. “such a slut for my cock, aren’t you?”

“god, yeah,” you stutter around the gag ball, eyes rolling violently, “ruin me, toru, fuck!”

the way you scream his name causes something within him to shatter, and now he has you flat on your stomach as his forearm curls around the front of your neck in a headlock, the grip of his fingers in your hair forcing you to stay in place, the other hand still perched underneath you to circle your clit. you’re screaming so loudly that you fully expect satoru to receive a noise complaint from the neighbours later. 

tears stain your cheeks as you turn your head to the side to breathe, and satoru nearly comes at the sight. 

“fucking hell,” he growls, pistoning his leaky cock into your stomach, “you look so pretty, all teared up and wrecked like this.” your throat is raw, cracking with each moan as your nails dig into your palms even deeper than before. satoru’s so close to losing it, thrusts growing sloppier each time you clench around him. he lets out a breathy laugh, “fuck, your pussy’s trying to milk me,” he whimpers for a moment, then slams into you hard and deep. “i’m gonna fucking stuff your pretty little cunt with my cum, sweetheart.”

“toru!” you scream, voice breaking, “god, i’m gonna– fuck, fuck, fuck!”

satoru moans as loud as you, tugging at your hair as he fills up your sweet, greedy hole with his hot, creamy cum, just as you let go and splash your juices all over his cock. he’s still thrusting into you, gasping from how good you feel coming around him. “oh, shit,” he huffs, “you feel so good, fuck!” he’s moving quickly, desperate to stay inside of you, “look at you taking me so well, fucking swallowing my cum like a good girl.”

your tears are still stinging your eyes as he finally comes to a still, gently peeling himself away from your sensitive, fucked-out body. he kisses your spine softly just before he collapses to your side, trying to catch his breath. he turns his head to look at you, cock twitching from the pretty sight of your glassy, red eyes and flushed cheeks. he lifts a hand to gently remove the gag ball from your mouth, then swipes the drool off of your lips with his thumb, placing it in his mouth afterwards. your thighs tighten again. 

your breaths finally calm, and now you’re just looking at each other, dazed and basking in the ecstasy still coursing through your veins. 

“think we should tell everyone i’m not a virgin?” he jokes.

you tsk, but smile. “listen, you’re the one who likes to be private. i don’t really care. i’m an adult who has sex, this information is not shocking.” 

satoru laughs as he grabs your waist to bring you closer. you snuggle into his chest. “honestly, i would love to see the look on their faces.”

needless to say, you and satoru witnessing the shock from your coworkers when you told them you’d fucked– and not without sharing a few juicy details on purpose to really make it stick– was one of the most amusing experiences you’ve ever had in your lives. 

you barely made it inside of the apartment before he's slamming your back against the door to shut it, glasses rattling on the kitchen counter from the loud impact.

one hand is gripping your waist, the other grabbing your jaw. you're breathing heavily, anticipating where this is going.

"you think this is funny?" he hisses, digging his fingers into the hollows of your cheeks. you clench around nothing, "flirting right in front of my fucking face with other men?"

you roll your eyes on purpose. that was sure to piss him off. "i wasn't flirting," you sigh, "i was being a normal, friendly person." your lids lower, sly. "you should try it sometime," you shoot back smugly.

he grits his teeth, shoving his fingers into your mouth whilst he moves his hand from your waist to slap your ass. you yelp, body jolting. "wanna try that again?" he breaks out into a smirk, one that has you full of fearful excitement. "seems like i need to teach you a goddamn lesson in loyalty and respect."

he flips you around so your chest is pressed firmly against the door, grabbing your wrists to force your arms above your head before using his free hand to, quite literally, rip your skirt off of you.

"hey!" you pout, "i really liked that skirt!"

he sends a hard slap to your cunt and you cry. "if you're good, then maybe i'll replace it for you." he slaps you again, "but you'd probably rather walk around without anything on so everyone can see your needy little pussy, hm?"

he doesn't give you a chance to respond, plunging his fingers into your slick hole whilst his thumb rubs against your clit.

"oh, fuck!" you scream, back already arching.

he laughs, poking his cheek with his tongue. "what was that?" he taunts, picking up speed. you're drooling and the sounds of your cunt are growing exponentially louder with each merciless thrust of his fingers. "i don't think my work buddies can quite hear you, babe." you're mewling, stomach tying into knots. "be a good girl for me and make sure they know you're mine, won't you?"

he curls into your pleasure point just right and you let out a piercing cry, body shaking violently as you spill all over his hand. "that's right, sweetheart," megumi's groaning, feeling ecstatic, as he licks all of you clean off his digits, then turns you back around to face him.

he shoves his fingers into your mouth again, this time so you can swallow the rest of your cum. when he pulls them out, he smears the wetness all over your cheeks then continues, "i'm the only one who can make you fucking come like that, you understand?" your eyes are glossy, "so filthy, look at you fucking dripping all over the damn floor," cheeks flushed, legs vibrating as your orgasm still lingers.

he rests his hands on your neck, squeezing tighter with a steady pace. you're completely folded and at his mercy. just how you like it.

"next time you wanna fuck around and piss me off," he coos, low, threatening, and burning with hot passion, "it'll be even worse."

toru waits until everyone else has left the locker room before he texts you to come by. you carefully peak around the door, shifting inside.

"toru?" you call out. you soon see that he's standing against the lockers, arms crossed and eyes dark. something heavy and fervid sinks into your stomach, but you attempt to brush it aside. "are you ready to go?"

he steps closer to you without answering, arms extending past your body to reach the door as he clicks the lock. your heart flutters in your chest.

he steps back to look at you, just observing. your breath shakes.

"do you know," he begins his question slowly, "how it makes me feel when you're praising my teammates?"

you cock your head curiously. "what?"

his chuckle almost seems amused. he leans forward, breath grazing your face as he stops mere inches away from it. a hand moves to grip your chin, gently yet possessive, as he straightens his back and lifts you up with him.

"its a shame," he pouts mockingly, "that my baby doesn't notice how jealous her boyfriend can get."

within seconds, he's pinning you against the wall, prying your lips apart with his calloused thumb to slide his tongue into your mouth. you groan as your hands fly up to catch his waist. he's so messy, desperate, as he kisses you greedily.

you can barely breathe when he pulls away, only panting louder as he lifts one of your thighs up around his waist and slips his fingers beneath your panties.

he moans at the feeling of your warmth. "does talking with my teammates make you that wet?" he pesters. "what a greedy little pussy."

"it doesn't!" you gasp. your protest is countered with a hard slap to your clit and you whimper. "fuck!"

"i'm the only one you should be praising," toru hisses, plunging his fingers inside of you to the hilt whilst his thumb circles your swollen clit. "whether at home, on the court, or fucking you dumb." he hums, low and intentional, "if i see you speaking to another man like that again, i'll ruin you."

you're drooling, hands perched on his shoulders for leverage as his fingers curl into you mercilessly. your moans grow louder, chest heaving as you begin to fall apart.

he pulls out of you suddenly, sliding his shorts down his thighs to free himself, then pistons his cock into you without time for adjustment. you choke, nails digging into his skin as he starts off fast and fiery.

"need you coming around my cock," he sucks in his teeth.

your cries are deafening, the filthy, squelching of his thick shaft dragging inside of your inner walls competing with your lewd sounds. "fuck, fuck!" you scream, eyes rolling backwards aggressively as you nearly reach your peak.

"you're gonna fucking come with me," he demands, hand gripping your jaw once again, "got it?"

you nod, clenching around him. his breaths are growing heavy, thrust sloppy, as his legs begin to shake. "jesus- fuck," he growls, stuffing every inch of you full. "gonna fill this pretty little cunt."

"p-please," you whine, "please fill me up, toru!"

he's losing it. "say you're mine," he orders you, "fucking say it."

"i'm yours, baby, all yours!"

"again."

his thick vein brushes against your pleasure point and your throat cracks out a ragged moan. "fuck- i'm yours- mph, oh my god- fuck, toru!" you gasp. "i'm fucking yours!"

"damn right, you are." he breaks, throwing his head back with a strained groan as he releases his hot, milky seed. "fuuuuck," he elongates his blissful thrums, "you're squeezing me, baby," he bites his bottom lip, "needy little thing."

your hot cum drips out of you with an overwhelming flash of white, body squirming uncontrollably against the wall. "god, toru!" you yell, "fuck, it feels so good!"

when you both finally come to a still, the locker room falls silent again with nothing else but the sounds of your panting breaths audible. he presses his forehead against yours and kisses you sweetly.

"mine," he claims, "all mine. don't forget it."

time slows in that moment. god, his eyes looked so beautiful, so in love with you. the way they glistened in the soft sunlight drifting through the window had you melting instantly. how did you get so lucky?

you send him a smile, pulling him down against your body as you close the gap between his pretty, red lips and yours. he slides one arm underneath your back to hold you, the other slipping beneath your t-shirt. you gasp as his cool fingertips brush against your ribcage.

“yu,” you whine his name softly, squirming in his grip. 

he chuckles against your lips before breaking away and resting his forehead on yours. “yeah, babe?”

you pout. “why’d you stop?”

he grins at you and your heart thumps wildly. it never seemed to still when you were with him. “we need to finish painting the room,” he says, placing one final peck on your face, “we’ll have plenty of time for this,” then sends a teasing grope to your ass with a smirk and you whimper, “later.”

it takes roughly a month for the two of you to get things completely in order. the deep satisfaction when everything finally turned out perfectly vibrated through your chests for weeks; you prayed the feeling would never end.

“we really did it,” you whisper, astounded, one night as you’re cuddled together in bed. “we finally made it.”

he hums joyfully, squeezing his arms tighter around your warm body pressed against his chest. “yeah,” he adds, “we did.” his lips ghost your neck and you shiver. “i couldn’t have done this without you,” he confesses, “you’re my everything.”

2024

“fuck,” yuta slams the front door shut angrily, hunching over as he falls to his knees. “are we really about to lose everything?”

you poke your head out of the kitchen around the hallway arch, startled from the noise. the sweet greeting you planned to give him was instantly replaced with anxiety. 

“yuta?” you call, shuffling over to where he’s curled up on the mahogany floor. you hear what sounds like a sob, your chest tightening. “oh, god, baby,” you frown, lowering yourself to his level. he looks up at you, eyes puffy and cheeks stained with tears, and your heart shatters. “what happened?” you pull him in tightly against your chest. he doesn’t hold back once you do, loud cries and struggles of breath muffled by your tshirt, wetness staining the grey material. “baby,” your voice is shaky, quiet, trying not to disturb him by being too loud, “hey, it’s okay. it’s okay.”

you just sit there for a good twenty minutes, holding him like that. when he finally manages to calm down enough to communicate with you clearly, you take a seat on the couch together to discuss what had happened.

he looks devastated, completely rung out when the words leave his mouth. “i got laid off.”

your heart stops. your brain is already going into survival mode, calculating your income and how to split it between two people. fuck, it wasn’t enough. of course it wasn’t enough. it was the very reason neither of you planned to quit your jobs in the first place once you got married, because you needed the support of two salaries.

“i’ll figure it out, baby, i promise,” yuta assures you, intertwining his nervous hand with yours. “we’ll be okay.”

“yeah,” you choke out barely audibly. you never had to deal with a situation like this before. your current job had kept you secure for nearly four years now. 

you trusted yuta, but not the corporate world. would things really be okay?

it took nearly eight months for yuta to find proper work again. he did his best to take on freelance in his field and other miscellaneous part-time gigs to fill in the gaps your income couldn’t, feeling like he was the absolute worst husband on earth for not being able to support you. it made him feel even more ashamed than he already did when he had those thoughts, because you never once expected that of him. you were fully capable of providing for yourself, which you were already doing before you two got married and decided to buy a home together. you weren’t even thinking about anything along the lines of him being a failure, your only concern laid in if you’d have to sell the house and move back in with his or your parents temporarily to get back on your feet.

the day he told you in full confidence and joy that he’d gotten a job offer– a great one, at that– every weight on your shoulders was instantly lifted.

“i knew you could do it,” you congratulated him, rubbing your thumbs across his knuckles, “i’m so proud of you.”

praise always made him turn to puddy in your hands. 

and a primal animal.

he has your legs thrown over his shoulders, your sweet moans making his cock twitch repeatedly in your hole.

“fuck, you feel so perfect,” he groans, eyes rolling backwards as he sinks deeper into you. “gonna buy you some– ah– sexy lingerie to rip off your pretty fucking self when i get my first paycheck.”

you spill your nectar onto him with a loud cry, kissing him sloppily and convulsing against his body.

“such a good girl f’me,” he coos, shoving his tongue down your throat as he fills your tight cunt with his hot, milky cum. 

you congratulated him further on his new job by giving him three more intense orgasms by sucking and fisting his cock for two hours straight that night.

2025

yuta has you pinned against the fridge, leg hiked up around his waist, stuffing his long, slender fingers into your needy cunt with fervor. you’re moaning uncontrollably, panting as your slick splashes out of you all over his fingers and the kitchen floor. yuta bites his lip with a fiery lust as you come for the third time within five minutes; he still hasn’t told you what the occasion was, not that you were complaining.

you finally catch your breath, letting out a soft whimper as he gently guides your leg back down onto the floor. you clench around air as you watch him suck all of your juices off of his pretty hands.

“so,” you huff a moment later, “you gonna tell me what that was for?”

“do i need a reason to make my wife come?” he smirks.

you roll your eyes, but smile. “of course not,” you tsks, “but i know you, yuta. you don’t usually pounce on me like this unless something good happened.”

he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear before leaning in to whisper, “i got a promotion.”

you gasp, pushing him away from you excitedly. “no way?”

“yes way.”

“holy shit!” you clap your hands together joyously, “that’s incredible, baby!” you grab his face, squish his cheeks, then kiss him hard. “you deserve it so much!”

“thank you,” he blushes, “i’ve worked really hard.”

it was inevitable his responsibilities would grow and he’d become much busier. for a while, it was great– all of the work parties, trips, and conferences that you got to tag along with him on were extremely fun. 

but that high could only last for so long before it would crash and burn.

it felt as if you only saw him one night a week, and barely at that. he’d eat dinner, shower, then immediately have to hop on a virtual meeting. you didn’t understand why they were working him to the bone like this. a meeting at 10 pm? he clocked out at five.

the resentment only continued to grow from that point onward. you tried to find time to sit down and talk to yuta, but even five minutes seemed impossible to schedule. you knew he wasn’t completely at fault, but that truth was hard to see when you were being suffocated by the consequence of unintended emotional neglect.

this is not what you wanted your life together to look like.

everything you built together was slowly starting to fall apart.

present

“good morning, yu, i made–”

“sorry, babe,” he cuts you off in a rush, “i’m running late.” he quickly shuffles over to your side and pecks your cheek, then runs towards the front door. “i won’t be home until late. work dinner. don’t wait up for me.”

he slams it shut.

of course he didn’t notice the look of disappointment on your face. of course he didn’t spare a second to say thank you for the meal, regardless that he didn’t have time to eat it.

what hurt most of all, was that he didn’t even bother to say ‘i love you’.

six months. six fucking months of him barely giving you the time of day, and you wanted to cry. you already had– many times– but what would he know? he didn’t even care to ask his wife how she was doing, it seemed. you couldn’t even remember the last time he did, the last time you two actually sat down and had a conversion passed surface level pleasantries.

you thought things were bad at the beginning when he first got the promotion, but this? this was a new level of pain. it cut you straight to the core, a stab wound that was constantly reopened any time it healed even just a little bit. 

was he your husband, or just a roommate waiting for the lease to expire?

not only did your boss notice your lack of focus exponentially growing over the months, but the entire fucking office. turns out you weren’t so good at hiding your problems after all.

“y/n,” your boss calls you calmly as you step foot into her office, “i don’t know what’s going on with you, and you don’t need to tell me unless you feel comfortable sharing, but,” she sighs, “i think you need to take some time off. you’re clearly not doing well, and it’s affecting your work.”

“i’m fine, tsukumo-san,” you try to reason with her, “i’ll pick up on my slack, i promise. i’ll have everything up to date by the end of the week.”

she smiles sympathetically. it’s not that she didn’t trust you, but she knew how you worked well enough to know that things wouldn’t be fixed until whatever was weighing on you was resolved. “okay,” she says simply, offering you the benefit of the doubt, just this once. she deeply valued you as an employee. if you failed to do what you said, she’d put her foot down about you taking some vacation days. 

“thank you,” you bow politely, taking your leave.

“y/n,” she calls you again, just as your hand touches the doorknob. you pause and turn around to face her a second time. you hadn’t mentioned anything about what you were dealing with, but it’s like she could see right through you. “whenever i’ve had a hard time in the past, it always helped me to spend some time on my own and reflect.” the way she says it makes your heart sink. she knows. of course she knows, from one married woman to another. you didn’t need to say anything to be understood. “do you get what i’m saying?”

you let out a shaky breath and you swallow. “yeah,” is all you say.

“hi, love–”

“not now.” yuta brushes right past you as he walks into the house that night, heading straight for his study. the door shuts with a loud, mocking slam.

you feel sick. this time, it’s impossible to stop them– the tears. they’re flowing out of you uncontrollably, choked sobs you desperately try to silence clogging your throat. one hand is on your mouth, the other your stomach, as your inner turmoil finally begins to seep through your pores. you drag yourself to the bedroom, the words of your boss sounding through your head.

“hello?” your mother picks up the phone, a bit surprised to see you’ve called at this time of day. it wasn’t late, only about 8 pm, but she was used to the usual weekend afternoon chats. “y/n, is something wrong?”

you let out a gasp for air, struggling to breathe. “m–mom,” you quiver, voice broken.

you hear her exhale with concern on the other end. “oh, honey,” she soothes, “what happened?”

you don’t give her details. you weren’t ready to feel like a failure as a wife in her eyes just yet. “c–can i come stay with you for a bit? maybe just a few days?”

“of course you can,” she says, “is yuta coming or–”

“just me.”

you hear her inhale sharply on the other end. “the guest room is already made for whenever you get here.”

“i’ll be there at some point this evening. i still have my key.”

“okay, baby,” you sense her smile apologetically through the speaker, “i’ll let your father know.”

“thank you.”

“take it easy,” she adds, “everything will be okay.”

“yeah,” you choke, but you weren’t sure if you believed that.

yuta freezes in the doorway when he walks in thirty minutes later, observing in confusion as you stuff clothes and other necessities into a suitcase.

“baby?” he calls gently, eyes flickering from it up to your face. in that moment, it felt like his whole world shattered. your eyes were red, cheeks swollen and stained with tears. “w–what’s going on?”

you could barely speak, voice raw. “i’m going to stay with my parents for a while.”

yuta wanted to throw up. “for how long?” his question was nearly inaudible.

“i don’t know,” you answered honestly. “could be a few days, could be a few weeks.” yuta’s stomach sinks. “i just need some time to think. alone.”

he’s fighting every fiber in his body not to beg you to stay, because he prides himself on being a good husband that doesn’t infiltrate your space, that respects your boundaries.

he doesn’t know what to say. he feels frozen, paralyzed, feet glued in place to the threshold. “okay,” his voice cracks.

he cries himself to sleep that night, clawing at his chest as the panic takes over his body, oxygen failing to reach his lungs. “no, no, no,” he chokes, gripping his pillow like it will somehow save him from this dreadful reality. “fuck. i fucked up.” his mind refuses to let him rest, every moment he even slightly bothered you flashing through his memories.

then, he sees it. the sadness on your face whenever he left for work without saying goodbye in the mornings. the spark in your eyes slowly fading the busier he became. the silence growing exponentially with each passing day.

“how did you not notice?,” he yells angrily at himself, “are you that fucking stupid?” he slams his fist into the nightstand. “you still call yourself a good husband after that? how full of shit are you?”

his anger turns into determination, a passionate fire to win you back igniting in his chest. he can’t lose you. he can’t let things go on like this.

he can’t live without you.

you thought it would be safe enough to drop by the house during the day, assuming yuta to be in office during business hours. after a week away, you realized you’d forgotten your favourite pajama set. you’d been so distracted, for obvious reasons, that it took you that long to notice.

your heart stops when you step through the front door and see yuta standing underneath the hallway arch, already looking at you.

“i… saw your car pull in,” he says quietly.

your pulse quickens. “i thought you’d be in the office.”

“i’ve been working from home these days.” little did you know he was doing so on purpose, hoping a situation such as this would occur. he needed to talk to you. he needed to fix things before it was too late. he figured the only way he’d get that opportunity is if he, quite literally, waited for you. so, he told his boss he’d be working from home for a while indefinitely. he was an important asset to the company, so they allowed it easily enough. 

“i just needed to grab something i forgot,” you clear your throat, making your way towards the bedroom. 

yuta just watches, hands shaking at his sides. it was now or never.

you don’t hear the bedroom door shut when he steps in. “y/n,” his voice is soft, remorseful. it tugs at your heartstrings. “i’ll do anything, please.” when you turn to face him, your eyes widen as you see he’s on his knees in a complete, deep bow, forehead touching the ground. 

“yuta–”

“no, i have to do this,” his voice is uneasy, “i have to prove to you that i’m a good husband, that i love you so fucking much.”

you feel a pang of guilt. “lift your head, yu,” you sigh, walking over towards him, “you don’t need to bow to me.”

he looks up at you, eyes glossy and full of tears. he sniffles, reaching his arms out to grab your hips whilst he stays perched there on the floor. “i’m sorry,” he cries, “i’m so fucking sorry for hurting you like this, for neglecting you for so long.” he inhales a long breath, “i’m sorry for never noticing, i’m sorry for not asking how you’re doing, for not eating the incredible meals you’re always preparing for me, i–”

you lean over and grab his face to kiss him, shutting him up. his body relaxes from your touch, his fingers curling into the material of your trousers.

“you’ve said sorry enough,” you whisper as you pull away, gently rubbing your thumbs across his cheeks. “i forgive you."

“r–really?” he stutters, protruding his bottom lip. god, he looked so cute like that. so perfect on his knees, fully submitting to you.

“yes, really,” you hum, “and i want to talk about this more with you so we can work it out.”

he smiles up at you as he lifts one hand off of your thighs to wipe away his tears. “yeah, let’s.”

the two of you sit atop the bed and yuta listens. really listens, taking every word you say to heart.

“you need to promise me,” you say firmly, gripping his hand with love and assertion, “that this is never going to happen again, you hear me?”

he whimpers. whimpers.

“yes, baby,” he nods profusely, “i swear to god i’ll never hurt you like this again. i’m going to try so fucking hard to make things right. you can trust me.”

your heart swells with warmth, and you place your hand delicately on his knee. “good,” you grip him. his breath stutters in his throat, “i’m giving you this chance, so don’t let me down, okay?”

“i won’t,” he swears to you, willing to give his all to keep you. 

for the next few weeks, yuta shows up. he does exactly what he said he would, even going as far as to making actual arrangements and changes with his boss to adjust his workflow to truly fulfill his promise to you. his boss, fortunately, admitted that he was putting too much pressure on him, but he’d proved himself a hard worker enough by now that he could let up on him. his tasks were fit for an extra set or two of hands. it was too much for one person to handle on their own.

you had three of five weeknights back, and the entire weekend.

“babe, look!” he shouts from the kitchen on a thursday evening. you close the novel you were reading and stand up from the living room couch to walk over towards him. “aren’t these cookies adorable?” your heart swells with joy at the little animal shapes he cut the dough into. “and i also made extra tigers since they’re your favourite.”

he was too sweet for his own good.

so sweet that it had you dropping to your knees and sucking him off seconds later.

“babe, what– ah!” he hands grip the side of the counter to keep himself from slipping, eyes fluttering shut with a loud gasp, “fuck!”

you're humming around him, slurping on his cock so loud and sloppily that you’re sure the neighbours can hear, picking up speed the more he moans.

“god, baby– i dunno what i did to d–deserve– shit– this,” he chokes, thrusting his hips harder into your throat as he reaches to grab your hair, “b–but thank you.” he comes with a loud growl, filling your mouth to the brim with his hot seed. he pushes his cock deep to the hilt, holding you still there with your lips resting against his pelvis as he pumps out his load. “such a good girl, swallowing me like that,” he whines, throbbing against your tongue, “you’re so good to me.”

you release him with a satisfied pop, slowly lifting yourself back up to your feet. you kiss his lips hard, making sure he tastes the residue of his cum. he groans into your mouth, pulling at your waist. 

“fuck,” he mutters, “need to taste you. need to be a good boy for you.” your stomach twists at the thought. “would you like that?”

you pull back and look him straight in the eye. his mouth parts as a pathetic whimper falls from it. 

“yeah,” you purr, low and sultry. you slide your tongue across his swollen, red lips, “i’d really like that, yu.”

he drags you over to the couch by your wrist, forgetting about the cookies cooling atop the stove, gently sitting you down on the cushions before dropping dramatically on his knees in front of you.

you clench around nothing, seeing him like that. if your time apart was good for anything else beyond space for mental clarity, it was finding out that you really fucking loved seeing yuta act submissive.

you cup his jaw as he pants impatiently, reaching for your waistband. you lift your ass up just enough to permit him to pull them down your legs.

“you’re so needy, baby,” you hum, squeezing his chin just slightly. he moans. “are you gonna make me feel good? gonna make me come?”

“fuck, yeah,” he releases a broken groan, “gonna have you squirting down my throat.”

and he does. multiple times actually, slurping and sucking at your overstimulated cunt, fingers prying into your sweet, soaked hole like his life depended on it.

“yuta!” you scream his name repeatedly, thrusting your cunt against his tongue desperately as he pushes you over the edge for the nth time that evening. “oh, fuck– fuck!”

“more,” he growls into your folds, “need more.”

you lost count of your orgasms at some point, succumbing to pure pleasure and completely fucked-out from his heavenly, skilled mouth.

you truly did have a good husband.

sukuna barely slept for weeks after that day. she never gave him an explanation nor clarity on what it was that led her to make that final decision, and in such a harsh way at that. was he not enough? did he unintentionally wound her so badly things were unmendable? did she cheat?

every possible scenario ran through his mind like a movie on x2 speed, causing him headaches. on top of the horrendous sleep deprivation, he wasn’t sure how he was managing to still function day to day.

he fell into a depressive state for a while, dragging himself through the work week without a care for anything else beyond that. not only was he surviving off of fumes, but he could hardly stomach any food. he could barely even go outside, because the second he came across someone who looked or sounded like her, every memory came flooding back rapidly.

he knew it wasn’t healthy. he knew if he kept things up like this then he might end up at a point of no return. 

after two, whole months of allowing himself to mourn, no matter how detrimental, wallowing in his tanking mental health, he forced himself to leave his home for reasons other than just going to and from the office. to try to live again. it was hard, and it sucked– he just wanted to crawl back into the safety of his bed and die most days– but still, he kept up with his determination to heal himself.

though he started to get better, he still struggled with viewing himself positively, and he never wanted to fall in love again. ever. his ex traumatized him so badly that he never wanted to experience that kind of heartbreak again. the only way he could prevent that is if he steered clear of love completely.

but, love always has a funny way of appearing when you least expect it, doesn’t it?

“hi!” your cheery greeting pierced through his ears. he was already wishing he stopped at the other coffee shop he was looking at on the map. “what can i get for you?”

“triple cappucino.”

you smiled sweetly. “$2.75, please.” he hands you a five in silence. “could i have a name?”

“sukuna.”

“i love that,” you compliment. his heart pangs in his chest and it pisses him off. “you’re the first sukuna i’ve met.”

he didn’t know what to say to that, so he just opted for a quick “cool.”

you start passing him his change, “should be ready in a couple of minutes,” but he shakes his head, nodding it towards the tip jar in front of the cash register. “oh,” you beam, “thank you!”

“sure.”

sukuna wants to slap himself as he waits for his drink. why? because he can’t take his damn eyes off of you. your smile is mean, he thinks, in the way it so desperately tries to pass onto him. he tsks silently, crossing his arms with a huff. 

“i don’t fucking need this,” he mutters to himself. he was sure he was falling prisoner to your friendly charm, but he didn’t want that. he wasn’t allowed to feel anything other than despair, according to his inner critic.

“she’ll just break your heart, you know.”

“don’t even think about bullshit like that.”

“fuck love.”

thoughts like these ran rampant through his mind, counteracting any that dared to suggest the opposite.

“sukuna?”

your voice rips through his chest, and painfully so– painfully good.

he stands up, dragging his feet lazily over towards the pick-up counter, hands stuffed into his pockets. “thanks,” he clears his throat, retrieving his drink. 

you send him another sweet smile. just how the fuck did you have so many different ones? “hope to see you here again!”

he wants to say that you will, but the words fail to come out of his mouth. he sighs, simply sending you a nod before stepping out of the cafe.

“this is stupid,” he groans at himself in the mirror, frustratingly messing with his shirt, “why am i trying so damn hard to look good for her?” he splashes his face with cool water, leaning over the sink with a sigh.

“because you like her, you fucking idiot,” he yells at himself silently. well, as much as he could from only meeting you once. all he knew is that your smile was the prettiest he’d ever seen, and somehow, it was breaking through his little angsty act post haste.

sukuna grumbles to himself pretty much the entire walk to the cafe you work at, probably loudly enough that passerbyers would think he’s insane. whatever. maybe he is.

“sukuna!” he wanted to fall to his knees right then and there the minute you greeted him. you remembered his name? “glad you came back!”

“hi,” he says simply.

“hi,” you repeat. did he just notice you… blush? “same as before?”

he nods. “and a plain croissant, if you have it.”

“of course.” your voice has a particular softness this time, one he can’t quite wrap his finger around.

he eats in silence, sneaking glances in your direction whilst he just observes you working. you were so fucking cute, the way you hummed along sweetly with the playlist and danced a little moving between the cash register, baked goods shelves, and espresso machine.

sukuna turned sour the moment he realized he was already a goner for you. girls like you would never be into him. he must be stupid to think you’d ever give him a chance. this is what he was convinced of.

eventually, you caught him watching you and sent him a friendly wave. his eyes widened as he nearly choked on his coffee, clearing his throat dramatically in the process. you gasp from your post, throwing your hand over your mouth with concern. some of the other customers side-eyed him, having felt disturbed by his loudness.

“i’m choking, you assholes,” he hisses silently, pissed at their dumb reasoning for being so rude.

you were just about to run over there with a glass of water, but he calmed down not too much later, letting out a sigh of relief when his coughing fit was over. and, you realized soon after that he already had a glass of water sitting on the table with him. you figured you just saved yourself a moment of embarrassment, should you have gone over to him. 

before he left that day, you stopped him. “sukuna,” you called his name gently to grab his attention, “could we, uh, exchange numbers?”

he froze mid-placing his dishes into the bus bin beside the counter.

oh, fuck.

sukuna didn’t return to the cafe again after that day. it had been two weeks.

you frowned, checking your phone for the nth time since his last visit. still nothing.

“what was the point of agreeing to give me your number if you won’t fucking text me?” you groan loudly, angrily shoving your phone into your pant pocket. “fucking men.”

shoko snorts beside you, finishing her latte art. “geez, someone’s in a sour mood.”

you roll your eyes. “of course i am, sho, he ghosted me.”

“you weren’t even ‘talking’ yet.”

you sigh. “you’re no help.”

shoko laughs, “sorry, just being honest.”

the day drags on, and seemingly more so since you’re constantly wishing for sukuna to show up. you couldn’t really explain it, but something about his tired eyes looked so– kind. yet, there was clearly a blockage that kept him from fully realizing that part of himself. his seemingly polar opposite personality to yours is what drew you in instantaneously in the first place. you sensed something was amiss. 

“you sure you’re good closing up on your own?” shoko asks, lifting her bag off the coat rack. it was 7 pm. you nod. “okay, be safe locking up.”

“thanks, sho,” you smile, waving goodbye.

once you locked the door behind her and flipped the sign to closed, you let out an exasperated sigh, slumping yourself in one of the table chairs. after allowing yourself a few moments to catch you breath, you lazily, yet still thoroughly, finished tidying up the cafe. you couldn’t stop thinking about sukuna the entire hour, but that felt like a millisecond in comparison to him never leaving your head since the second you met him.

“hey.”

you freeze as you’re locking the door after stepping out of the cafe, wondering if you were hearing things.

when sukuna steps closer to you and you look up to meet his eyes, you realize he’s actually there.

“hi,” you breathe.

he bites his lips nervously, darting his attention away from you and towards the pavement. “i’m sorry,” he starts to apologize, “that i never messaged you back.” you just stood there, waiting for him to continue. you stuffed the cafe keys into your pocket. “i haven’t been… feeling the best lately, i just– i just didn’t want to drag you down, too.” your face softens. “you’re always so cheery and i’m so… not,” he laughs deflated, “i’m afraid i’ll fuck up your life, regardless that it wouldn’t be on purpose.”

you step forward, gently placing your palms on his shoulders. his heart thumps wildly in his chest. 

“sukuna,” you call gently, “i know we barely know each other, but if you’re ever struggling, you can talk to me. i want you to know that.”

“yeah,” he sends you a half smile, “okay.”

slowly but surely, he starts opening up to you. it’s not much at first, just simple things like how many siblings he has, what town he grew up in, what he does for work; you find him deeply endearing and beautiful, and it hurts your heart to know he doesn’t feel the same way about himself.

one night, you invite him to stop by the cafe after closing. the two of you sit in a far corner out of sight from the windows, snacking on a few left over pastries.

“i want to take you out,” sukuna says suddenly. your face burns. “like, on a proper date.”

he feels like he might explode, knowing he actually asked you that out loud. he was trying desperately to calm the disparaging thoughts that aimed to destroy him from the inside out in that moment. 

“okay,” you smile, “take me out.”

he does once. then twice. then a third time. and so on.

by your seventh date, he’s feeling more comfortable and… lighter. he hadn’t felt that way in a while. much to his delight, nothing about you gave him the sense that he should be worried. you were honest and kind, something that he finally realized within getting you know you that his ex girlfriend was not. each date with you was helping him accept and be okay with never knowing the reason why she left.

when he finally opened up to you about their relationship, you listened intently, anger building up in your chest on his behalf.

“what an asshole,” you seethed, falling back into your seat in disbelief. you tried to keep your voice hushed since you were in the middle of a restaurant, though you wanted to scream your frustrations louder. “i can’t believe she’d do that to you!”

sukuna was amused seeing this side of you. he was so used to your usual happy-go-lucky, sweet attitude that when you weren’t, it always caught him off guard. never in a bad way, though; he liked knowing you were capable of having feelings like that, too. 

“that’s why i was so hesitant to reach out a couple of months ago,” he admits, “i struggled– still do, if i’m being honest– with seeing myself as enough. i feel like i shouldn’t be allowed to try with anyone again, because clearly i didn’t have enough to offer another person in the first place.”

you don’t even realize it until sukuna looks horrified that you started to cry. in public. in the middle of a busy restaurant.

“oh, shit,” sukuna swears, quickly passing you a clean napkin, “i’m sorry i made you cry. fuck.”

you alternate between soft chuckles and quiet sobs. thankfully, no one else had noticed yet. sukuna would have crawled under a rock if they had, ruminating on if they’d be thinking he had harmed you somehow. the dim lighting was your saviour.

“sorry, sorry,” you laugh, sniffling, “i just hate knowing you feel that way.” your hand reaches across the table to hold his. “i want you to know that you are enough. you always have been. especially to me.”

he feels like he might pass out. fuck, he never expected someone like you to want him. actually want him, for all that he is. to love and cherish him deeply. 

sukuna’s shocked when he finds himself starting to tear up, too. “christ, y/n,” he chuckles, breath quivering, “i think i’m already fucking in love with you.”

two more dates and a conversation to become official later, you’re lying in his bed that’s warm and smells of fern and vanilla. his tongue runs up the insides of your thighs before planting itself on your dripping, needy cunt.

“mmm, kuna,” you moan his name, thrusting your hips up into his mouth. he chokes out a groan as he tastes you getting wetter, “you fuck me so good with your tongue.”

his eyes roll at your praise, and he squeezes your hips harder, picking up speed. “show me how good,” he coos, “let me taste your sweet cum, baby.”

with a sharp cry, you spill into his mouth, body vibrating as his tongue desperately laps up your juices. he release your cunt with a soft pop, lifting his head up so his eyes can meet yours. he smiles as he watches your lids flutter in bliss. “you did so well for me,” he purrs, leaning in to kiss your soft lips, “knew you would.”

you smirk, propping yourself up onto your elbows so you can move to sit on your knees. “your turn,” you say, placing your palms on his chest to lay his back down against the mattress.

his breath stutters in his throat as you look up at him from below, chin resting on his thigh. “gonna make you feel so good, kuna,” you hum, nibbling on his soft skin there. he lets out a quiet whimper and you chuckle. “it’s not just your heart that’s sensitive, i see,” you tease. 

he chokes out an ungodly sound when you finally take him into your mouth, his head tilting backwards as you begin to bob along his cock. he grabs your hair, just holding you, face scrunching in ecstasy with each slide of your tongue against his thick, veiny shaft.

“oh, fucking hell–” he hisses, trying not to thrust up into your mouth just yet, “you’re i–insane.”

you hum proudly against him and he groans. your tongue swipes across his sensitive, beading tip, and that’s when he loses it. he sends you one, deep hard thrust into your mouth, relishing in the sweet sound of you choking on him.

“yeah, baby,” he grits his teeth, “fucking take it.” you whine as you continue to meet his thrusts halfway, adding a hand to fist the rest of his length when it’s not completely down your throat. “jesus, gonna fill this sweet little mouth– ngh,” he comes with a raspy grunt, shooting his hot seed to the hilt. you roll your eyes as you swallow all of him, releasing his cock with a teasing slide of the tongue from where his shaft meets the pubic bone all the way up to his tip. he cups your jaw as he looks down at you, cheeks flushed and mouth all messy. 

“c’mere, sweetheart,” he lures you up gently, thumb brushing delicately against your cheek, “let me see you ride me.”

he can barely keep himself together once you're sliding up and down on his cock, cunt greedily sucking him in like it was made for him. only for him.

“f–fuck,” you huff, palms gripping his shoulders for balance, “i feel so full.”

“that’s right,” he hums with a sweet, smug smile, “that’s my girl. letting me fuck her tight cunt just right.”

you're starting to lose strength, sukuna taking it upon himself to flip you over and put you into a mating press. you choke, back arching as much as it could in that position as he pounds into your puffy hole with resolve.

“fucking god, b–babe!” you scream, mouth agape, “don’t stop– shit, shit– keep go– fuck, right there!”

sukuna lets out a prideful snicker as you say this, literally feeling that he was hitting the spot perfectly. your cunt was fucking soaked. he couldn’t get enough of you, praying to the gods above he’d never have to stop fucking you.

you let out the sexiest, most animalistic sound that causes him to throb inside of you. he growls when you squeeze him, then swears he’s not going to last once he’s watching you reach down to circle your clit to another orgasm.

“fuck,” he moans, “keep touching yourself like that, baby. love watching you fall apart on me.”

he lifts a hand to lay his palm flat against the wall in front of him for leverage, the other squeezing your thigh. you scream as he pistons into you hard and deep, you practically feeling him in your stomach.

he starts to come undone the second he feels you squirting on him again. “fucking come,” he grits, throat cracking into a moan, “give it to me, sweetheart.”

with a final rub to your clit, you let go, coating his cock again with your cum. “ah, fuuuck!” you cry, moaning and squirming as you ride out your high with shallow grinds. 

he stutters inside of you, hand sliding down from the wall to the headboard as he reaches his peak. he grips it to white knuckles, hold on your thigh digging into your plush skin with determination. “oh, god,” he groans, “fuck, i need to fill you up.”

“p–please,” you beg, dazed and still in your orgasm, “let me feel you inside of me.”

your filthy words finally push him over the edge, painting your pretty walls in hot, milky white. “fuck, yes,” he gasps, shaking as he steadily comes to a still. “fuck me,” he sighs, collapsing beside you with an elated exhale. “i’ve never– wow,” he laughs blissfully, “i’ve never had sex like that before. never felt so connected.”

you turn your body on its side and cuddle up to him. his arms are already open for you, as if they’d been waiting for you for an entire lifetime. you bury your face into the crook of his neck.

“me, too,” you whisper. “this must be what it’s like when you’re with someone you love and they love you back.”

sukuna’s heart melts at your comment. that’s all the confirmation he needed to know you that felt the same for him as he did for you. “yeah,” he smiles. “it must be.”

you just showed up, looking like every damn cell of your body was literally created by drops of heaven when you walked into the training room on your first day, rosy cheeks hinting at a subtle shyness as you greeted everyone kindly. “hi, i’m y/n, your new team manager starting today.”

rin tried to keep himself distracted, suppressing every bubble of attraction that dared to arise in his chest whenever he looked at you. yet, he couldn’t help the pang of jealousy seeping through his shadow every time you interacted with his team; your smiles were anything but ‘just friendly’ in his eyes, though logically, he didn’t actually have the slightest idea of how you felt towards any of his boys. 

he was a reasonable man. mature, upright, and wise. of course you would be interested in boys your age, he knew that. why the fuck would he even think you’d want to be with one twenty years your senior? you were young, beautiful, and kind, any man would be lucky to have you– one in your age range, he forcefully reminded himself time and time again.

unfortunately for rin, he wanted that man to be him, regardless. no matter how much he tried to ignore it, to kill the feelings, they persisted.

and now he’s here, drunk off his ass at a celebratory afterparty for his team making it to regionals, nearly passed out on the corner of the couch in the karaoke room. everyone else is still lively, singing horribly– some well, though– at the top of their lungs, downing shot after shot of sake.

you, of course, stay on patrol, only babysitting a drink or two to try to keep things under control. 

rin didn’t mean to drink as much as he did. he just couldn’t stop thinking about how sexy you look in your little black dress– a view he rarely got the chance to see since your usual attire consisted of training jackets and joggers– and thoughtlessly started chugging at a bottle of sake until he was hiccuping and sleepy to cope with his overwhelming, tenacious feelings.

you let out a sigh, but chuckle, scooting your body over to his side to check up on him. the others seem fine, despite their rowdiness, so you shift your attention to your colleague for the time being.

“hey,” you hum gently, nudging his side, “i can call you a cab.”

“n–no,” he murmurs, heavy eyelids fluttering to open. he thinks he’s dreaming when he’s sees how close you are, glistening eyes looking into his enlarged pupils with concern, “oh, mm’fuck– you’re so c– hic– close.”

you smile. “well, yeah, need to make sure you’re not dying.”

his laugh turns into a cough before he smacks his lips together and curls further into the couch. “mm’fine, mm’fine,” he thrums, closing his eyes again. but this time, his hand reaches out to find yours resting on the seat cushion beside his thigh, fingertips teasingly gliding across your knuckles. he’s not even fully aware that he’s doing it, light snores slowly beginning to sound out of him seconds later.

your heart stops for a minute as your gaze flickers to where he’s touching you, lips parting with a silent gasp. you think you should move– should– but you don’t, just allowing the warmth to flow through your veins for a few moments. despite the chaos surrounding you, this shared moment felt private and quiet.

eventually, you do convince him to take a cab, but with you to your place, because you have zero trust he’ll be able to safely transport himself back to his own given the state he’s currently in.

you stumble your bodies through the front door, carefully guiding him towards your bedroom to help him into bed. you plan to take the couch for the night.

the cutest whimpers escape his mouth as you remove his shoes, then tuck him underneath the covers. you’ll just change your sheets the next day since he’s still wearing his alcohol-stained daywear, not feeling comfortable enough to help him undress. he can do that himself once he sobers up a bit, since he’ll probably wake up sooner or later to use the bathroom. 

you quickly fix him a glass of water, then grab a small pouch of saltines and a few tylenol pills to leave on the nightstand beside him; hydration, food, and medication– the cocktail to hangover survival. 

he mutters something you can’t quite make out as you move to leave the bedroom, which causes you to just swell with warmth with how cute he really is as you shut the door behind you quietly.

rin ends up sleeping from one in the morning, when you two arrived back at your place, all the way until ten– completely through the night. his eyes shoot open wide abruptly as he wakes, eyebrows furrowing to take in his surroundings. where the fuck is he?

he jolts from the soft rap at the door, heart dropping into his stomach as you walk in sporting a loose t-shirt, tiny sleep shorts, and bedhead, carrying a small plate of toast.

“morning,” you smile. he just blinks at you, chest palpitating. you chuckle at his surprise, placing the plate down beside him on the bed. “i take it you don’t remember anything from last night.”

“not at all.” his voice is raspy and parched. he notices the glass of water on the nightstand and picks it up, chugging it quickly. he lets out a sigh when he finishes, feeling quenched. “i didn’t– we didn’t– right?” he asks, slightly panicked.

you shake your head, understanding exactly what he’s asking. “nothing happened. i just brought you back here so i could make sure you didn’t accidentaly kill yourself,” you laugh, “do you even know how much you drank?” he shakes his head and you sigh. “an entire bottle of sake and then some,” you state, “i’m surprised you’re even functioning this morning.” there’s a sharp pain in his head right then that proves your words otherwise and he winces. “i’ll get you some more water,” you offer, “be right back.”

rin feels so utterly embarrassed.

and– worst of all– fucked.

an indescribable tension has been floating around you and rin since that night a few weeks ago. neither of you address it though, just assuming it will fade out on its own.

yeah, that’s never how it works, is it?

it isn’t until he sees you cozying up with one of his players outside of the locker rooms after practice that he finally snaps, stomach twisting violently at the thought of you being close to another man.

he waits until the field is left with only you and him. the two of you usually stayed afterwards together to clean up and prepare for the following day’s session.

“hey,” he says, stacking the cones as you toss the extra balls into the bin, “are you and alex… close?”

you freeze for a moment, surprised he’s prying into a topic like that with you. if you’re honest, though, it made your heart flutter. is he concerned about you? or… is he jealous?

“sort of,” you shrug, answering him casually, though your insides were going crazy. “we found out our moms work together, so we kind of just hit it off.”

“i see.”

it’s quiet again.

neither of you are paying attention as you back up after finishing your tasks, bodies colliding as he topples over you onto the floor of the storage shed.

both of you groan, and you’re grateful your elbows caught you in time to avoid smacking your head painfully onto the pavement.

“you okay?” rin asks, searching your face. he still hasn’t noticed that he’s hovering over you, chests nearly touching. but once he does, he can hardly breathe. “oh– fuck–,” he huffs, “sorry, let me get up–,” but you stop him, and he swears he’s about to explode. “y/n?” he calls your name gently. you just keep staring at him, watching as his pupils dilate wider and wider with each passing second. your hand reaches up to cup his jaw, and his breath falters. “what are you– fuck.”

you lips break out into a smile and your chest aches. all this time, you’ve been trying to suppress your desire for the man you lay before. he’s twenty years older than you, and that will surely make people talk. but, you don’t care.

you don’t care.

you want him. and you’re sick of not allowing yourself to at least let him know that; if he doesn’t feel the same, then you move on.

“rin,” the way you say his name makes him shiver, “i like you. i like you a lot.” his eyes widen at your confession. “i know you’re a lot older than i am; you’ve got more experience and life’s all figured out in comparison to me, but,” you exhale, “i can’t help how i feel. i really fucking like you.”

he releases the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding in, head falling forward in relief and a tinge of hesitance. “shit,” he laughs nervously, “i never thought– fucking hell,” he tries to pull himself together, “i’ve been falling for you since the second you walked into that damn training room last year, and i– i never thought it’d be mutual.” your affectionate smile is sending butterflies straight to his stomach. “you’re so much younger than me, and way fucking out of my league but, christ, y/n, i really fucking like you too.”

your smile lifts into a smirk– a devious one full of raw desire and need. “kiss me, rin,” you thrum, moving both hands to slide behind him to rest on the nape of his neck. “if this is real, then show me.”

his breaths are uneven. “are you sure?”

you bite your lip and nod. “yes, i’m sure. but, not here. not on this disgusting closet floor,” both he and you laugh, “take me back to yours tonight?”

rin’s sheets smell like pine and a thousand secret feelings as he lays you down on his bed, cherry, slightly cracked lips attaching to yours with vigor. a year’s worth of pent up emotions could no longer be controlled. you tug at his hair as you slip your tongue into it his mouth, thighs clenching at the sweet sounds of his muffled whines. he’s hovering over you now, slowly dropping his kisses from your face down towards your center; on the way, he unzips your training jacket. he lifts his head for a moment to see you, staring in awe at your nearly bare chest looking back at him. his tongue teases below the wiring of your bra and you gasp.

“off,” you squeak, “take it off.” 

rin obliges, “holy fuck, you’re beautiful,” cheeks burning from your gorgeous tits. he immediately attaches his mouth to your perky nipples, sliding his rough tongue across each meaty breast whilst his hands cup your thighs.

you involuntarily jolt at the tingling sensation, pulling at his strands more aggressively, which only causes him to moan against you and send pleasurable vibrations through your chest.

“f–fuck,” your breath stutters when he drags his tongue from your sternum down to your navel, his fingers curling into your waistband once he reaches there.

he bites your hip bones teasingly. “i bet you’re so pretty,” he thrums, massaging your skin, “can’t wait to taste this pussy.”

rin doesn’t waste even a second once he’s removed your pants and tossed them aside, tongue diving into your sweet cunt with filthy squelches.

“r–rin!” you mewl, bucking your hips up against his mouth. his eyes roll at the use of you moaning his name and your sweet taste, grip on your hips tightening. “s–shit, right– oh, god!”

the tip of his nose stimulates your clit with each deliberate drive of his tongue into your slick hole. you're riding his face now, matching his pace, desperate to reach your high.

rin can sense your arousal growing, the coil in your stomach only seconds away from snapping. he sucks on your bundle of nerves with precision, lapping you up like it’s his favourite pastime, groaning at the feeling of you about to fall apart.

“c’mon,” he mutters, “let me taste you. come for me.” with a final drag of his mouth and nose across your folds, you cry, spilling your sweet nectar out of your cunt and all over his pretty face. he growls as he drinks you up, swallowing all of you pornographically. “fuck, you’re so good to me.”

he releases you with a slow, agonizing pop as he lifts up to see you, cock twitching at the sight of your beautiful fucked out face in all her glory. your lashes are fluttering, and he can see your throat pulsing as you catch your breath.

“feel okay?” he checks in with you.

“y–yeah,” you stutter, still riding through the ecstasy of your orgasm.

“good,” he smiles, though not without a tint of mischief, leaning over to plant a kiss on your puffy, quivering lips. “do you want to keep going–”

“yes.”

he laughs at how quickly you answer. “your wish is my command.” 

your eyes grow dark for a moment as you keep looking back at him. “don’t treat me so nicely."

he lets out a cough, taken aback by your initiation and request. it’s not that he didn’t want to get a little crazy with you, far from it, he just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable in any way.

“what do you want me to do?” he asks.

you stare at him straight in the eye and say, “slap my ass and pull my hair. surprise me with the rest.”

he was throbbing. 

fuck. 

rin undresses, then you’re instantly flipped over onto your stomach, grip in your hair tight and declaring, yanking your ass up high in the air for him. he groans and your walls squeeze tightly.

“fucking hell,” he hisses, “you sure you can handle me like this?”

you turn your head enough to glare at him, mostly playfully, but a little bit annoyed. “rin,” you assert, “fuck me or i’ll do it myself.”

his heart is about to burst through his chest. you notice the way his thick cock jumps from your demand and you smirk.

“fuck. yeah, okay,” he huffs, pumping himself a few times as he maintains eye contact, leaky tip teasing your sticky hole. “you ready, baby?”

“give it to me.”

your words move him automatically as he slides into you. you can feel his hips shaking the entire way to bottoming you out, walls clenching around his fat base.

“god,” he groans, “you feel– wow. fuck.”

you start sliding along his cock, too, and he nearly loses it. “c’mon,” you taunt, “more, daddy, more.”

he stills for a second. did you just call him daddy?

the choice of words has brewed a destructive storm within him.

your smugness instantly turns into a screaming fest as he slams into you, brutally smacking his pelvis against your plush ass. every time he pulls out far enough to leave a bit of space, he lifts a hand to smack your cheeks and you whimper, drool coating the bedsheets below you.

“fuck, fuck!” you whine, unbridled, ragged chokes escaping your mouth. “you’re s–so– mmmm’shit–”

you can hardly speak, and rin can’t stop gritting his teeth and abusing your sweet, tight cunt. he slips a hand underneath you to reach your clit, sending it a rough slap that makes your body jolt with a loud cry. 

“thatta girl,” he thrums, “let me hear you get fucking loud f’me.”

his fingers circle fast, thick cock filling you to the brim with a ruthless pace, and you spiral towards your second orgasm. you throw a hand back to grab his thigh, assisting him to fuck you even faster as your arousal starts to leak around him.

“r–rin,” you gasp, body beginning to convulse, “i’m gonna– oh, fuck!” you don’t even complete your sentence, a sharp crack of the throat sending you over the edge as you cream around his length, vibrating and clenching him incessantly. “oh my god!”

he laughs elated and a bit heniously, keeping his pace unforgiving as he yanks you up by your hair in the midst of coming, forcing your spine flat against his chest. you’re overstimulated and whining pathetically.

“we’re not done,” he purrs, licking one, long stripe up the side of your neck, “you’re giving me three more. we’re hitting five.”

your throat tightens and you pulsate excitedly. “i don’t know if– that’s–,” your eyes roll and you feel your stomach twisting for the third time. “oh my fucking god,” you groan, “fuck!” you squirt again, moans so loud you’re sure the neighbours are pissed off by now.

rin isn’t slowing down, sending shallow slaps and firm circles to your clit as his cock continues to stretch you out, twitching inside your walls with each greedy clench from your pussy.

“such a good girl for daddy,” his voice is low and raspy, sending shivers down your spine, “keep falling apart f’me like this.”

you’re foaming at the mouth, arms thrashing around aimlessly as he pulls the fourth orgasm out of you with a deep, hard thrust into your stomach, your shattered cry trickling down his spine ecstatically. he growls as he moves his grip from your hair to your throat, squeezing tightly and driving his fat, wet cock into you without mercy.

he’s trying to keep himself together, determined to feel you come around him one final time. but he’s so fucking close.

“jesus– rin– shit–” you whine, grabbing his wrist around your neck for leverage, “it’s so s–sen– fuck!” he slides his mushroom tip across your pleasure point and you whimper, hips stuttering back against him.

“just one more, baby girl,” he hums, sucking a claim into your shoulderblade, “let me feel you just one more time.”

you nod profusely, whining growing louder with each brutal drag of his cock until you finally break, “i–i’m coming!” dropping all inhibitions and screaming uncontrollably as you release onto him for the fifth time, drenching his cock with your sweet cum.

he’s growling just as loudly as you are, hips sputtering weakly as he senses himself about to break, pulling out of you at the last second whilst he pushes your torso back down towards the mattress again to spill his hot, milky seed all over your back. his moans are raspy, head thrown backwards in bliss, as the sticky substance feels warm on your skin.

“holy fuck,” he grits his teeth, looking down to see how pretty he decorated your body. “you did so well for me, sweetheart,” he praises, “i’m so proud of you.” he leans over and kisses the back of your head before carefully helping you to lay down flat onto your stomach comfortably. “let me go grab a rag to clean you up.”

he’s so gentle with you, cautiously wiping your skin and helping you roll over onto your back once he’s finished cleaning you up. your eyes are so dazed and fucked-out, pupils blown and full of ecstacy and affection. he can’t help but smile, heart warming at the sight of you so wrecked for him in the two best ways– sex and love.

he kisses your temple before laying beside you, pulling you closely to rest on his chest. “how are you feeling?” he asks.

“so good,” your words are slightly slurred, “that was incredible.”

“yeah?” his heart swells.

“yeah.” you repeat.

it’s quiet for a moment, but calm. then, he asks the burning question. “do you want to continue this? you know, us?”

your head tilts up to look at him, and if the way your eyes glisten are any consolation, the answer to that is yes. “i do,” you smile. “i want all of you, rin itoshi.”

if it weren’t for the fact he had a team to get through regionals– and now you becoming an important part of his life– he’d die right there in your arms with how fast his heart is beating and be happy with it.