!

𝐑𝐀𝐖 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄!

ft. itadori, megumi, inumaki, yuta, gojo, geto, choso, toji

tw. fem!reader, praise, cursing, dirty talk, mentions of creampie, breeding kink, cockwarming, pussy drunk boyo, needy boyo, dom!w/sub! reader

an. tr version, hq version, aot version <3

𖦹 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈

it’s starts out innocent, sitting on itadori’s lap while he watches a movie—only the thin fabric of your panties just grazes across his clothed length and he throbs at the contact. stifling an ill ridden moan when you shift on him, larger arms coming out to wrap across your waist—lips taunting your neck and calloused fingers tracing your thighs. “i want you” itadori mumbles, rolling your hips on his aching cock, with fingers working quicker than tongue entangled inside both of your mouths— a blink of time, you’re naked underneath him and itadori fists his cock above you, sneering his eyes on you “pretty pussy.” with hands spreading your cunt open, itadori feels a singe of nerves creep through his form at his bare cock brush through your folds. “you’re so wet, fuck—i-i can’t believe im gonna fuck you—raw, fucking raw princess” itadori groans, sinking his cock in and the aduable moan rupturing his lungs, nails digging in your inner thighs and his body in shambles with just a single taste of your bare pussy. “yuji, more” you whine, hips dropping and folding his body over you, itadori halts the gaping stare he has on his cock hitting flush in your weeping hole and brings it to your face. “yeah, more. i-i’ll give you more angel, give you e-everything” itadori stutters, rocking his hips in your messy hole and pressing your back further into the couch. itadori composure melts, tipping over at the euphoric feeling wrapped around his cock and the raw, exposed walls fit perfectly against his throbbing length. and he can feel by the way his cock twitches itadori is going to cum soon and he can only hope he’s able to stop after one load fucked into your greedy hole, all for him.

𖦹 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈

megumi disregards the filth covered thoughts racing through his mind as he pulls your back flush to his chest while his cock slips through your thighs. megumi’s hips reel back, pushing through your subtle flesh again in one snap “i want to fuck you so bad” he whispers, nestling his nose into your neck, “w-without a condom, i want to—” megumi takes his hand to lift your leg upwards, “shit i just need you.” your hand comes out to grip his cock, fisting it and megumi throws his head back with a moan rippling through his lips, “yeah princess, like that” megumi bucks his hips in your hand, stomach churning with every touch of your fingers neatly fastened to his length. “can i, please?” megumi groans while you motion his cock through your folds, and with just the subtle touch of your juices he’s feels like he could cum right now. his cock pushes through your tight pussy, the slick of you guiding him to bottom out in a mere seconds, megumi eyes knock white wrapping his arms around you. the warmth seeps into his length, juices welcoming the aching tip of his cock and your small litters of moans filter his mind, “just like this, fuck baby—just like this” megumi leaves a hot breath across the shell of your ear, “if i move, i’ll cum so fucking quick so let’s stay like this for a little bit, yeah angel?” megumi wants this to last an eternity, soaking the raw, exposed feeling of your pussy wrapped perfectly around his cock, like it should be.

𖦹 𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈

“toge— you can move” you whimper below your boyfriend, raising your hand to rub a soft circle on his cheek and inumaki can’t help but nuzzle into your palm. he cannot speak often and though it becomes a bothersome subject—the actions inumaki displays volumes. soft vibrations of moans rattle his chest, gentle breaths flutter across your face when he finally begins moving, without anything damaging your connected bodies. inumaki struggles to keep a planted foot on this earth with how much you mold to his cock, your hands tied through his hair and pussy dripping on his length. “so good” inumaki utters, lifting his eyes to meet yours and you soften at him struggling to brings words to the atmosphere, “you’re so good, you make me feel so good” you reply back to him and inumaki mouth gapes at the praise. and he’s livid that he hasn’t done this earlier—how perfect this newfound feeling envelopes his soul, purifies any stress traced in his mind and how much you beg for more. “cum” inumaki glosses his eyes back to you, the speech provoke your orgasm to jolt through your body and spray his abdomen, your gasps for air make him blush but the way you look—the way you feel, his speech curse is going to be the second favorite thing to do when inumaki fucks you.

𖦹 𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀

“angel, please” yuta moans, masking his face with his lithe fingers, face blistering a deep red whenever you bounce harder on his cock. “m’so sensitive” yuta whispers and you settle in his lap, gripping his face within your hands “but it feels so good, you feel so good” yuta pulls his hands from his face, lingering a searing gaze down to the mess slathered in his thighs and the way your pussy swallows him whole. “can’t stop, wanna cum again” yuta crashes his lips against yours, a snap of his hands and they concrete to your hips moving your harder on his rigid cock, “wanna cum for you, my pretty girl.” your body crumbles at the praise, noticing the way yuta has sweat saturated to his forehead, lips parted and swallowing shallow breaths and his cock clinging to your walls is nothing but immense pleasure captivates your body, driving through to your core. “cum on my cock, show me how good i make you fuckin’ feel” yuta pants, another tip off of the edge and he dives head first, cock leaking a pitiful amount of cum in your hole once more. and yuta is aching, trembling under you and as bad as he wants—yuta has to cum in you again because he cannot get enough especially with his cum being fucked deep in you.

𖦹 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

“you keep staring at me like that pretty girl, what do you want?” geto smiles, looking over at you from the driver seat, his hand lingers on your thigh and squeezes the flesh. “you, want you” you whisper out, pulling his hand towards your throbbing heat. “i don’t have a condom” geto replies, smirking while his other hand grips the steering wheel, “i don’t care—need you now” you drag your eyes over to him, geto looks back with orbs painted black and a grin toying with his lips, “whatever you want, i’ll give it to you.” but it’s the other way around now, followed in the backseat with a pair of your legs thrown over his shoulder and geto pumps his swollen cock in your cunt, watching the amount of your slick drip to his leather seats and your moans casted upon the air. “you feel so fucking good” geto grunts, so lost in your pussy drowning his cock, pratically milking him dry and his body tipping over with another clench around his length. you say the words and he’s addicted, fucking you raw was one thing but cumming inside you? he’s falling at the phrase, rutting his hips so hard into your body the flesh ripples in response and pulling out to use the tip to smear his seed on your puffy clit. “look at my good girl” geto coos, bending down to use two fingers guiding his cum back in your hole, “looks like this pussy could take some more, yeah?”

𖦹 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

“would you fuck me raw, satoru?” you question gojo as he watches tv, long legs spread open and wide, tilting his head over in your direction, “shit” he mumbles and it grasps your attention even more, wandering over to his spot on the couch. the prominent outline emerging from his pants clearly paints a picture and it’s not subtle anymore as he lets you spring his cock free without another glossed covered word, watches as the length switches and grows harder by the minute. “is that your answer?” gojo asks, breath hitched to his throat when you stand to your feet, dropping your bottoms and climbing over his lap. “oh my god” gojo moans, you barely have dropped your hips to meet his aching cock and gojo is ready to succumb under the warmth of your velvet walls. gojo starts slow, his body is moving on instinct, searching for a blissful ending within your hole, bucking and dragging his cock along your walls and as his orgasm tears it’s head to the waves of pleasure he can only meekly fuck hisself through it, hisses left in the air and moans fluttering through those pretty lips. “we’re about to find out how much you can take of my raw cock princess, cause there’s no fucking way i can stop now” gojo groans, flipping you over and sliding a hand down to your puffy clit, “might as well cum with me this time” he sneers, watching your face contort to absolute beauty—gojo has spent a lifetime looking through his endless eyes but what he looks down upon now—is his bare cock splitting open your perfect pussy.

𖦹 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎

“fuck—i-i’m gonna cum, inside you, b-breed you” choso stammers, dragging his eyes from the way his cock is splitting open you open to lining his vision on your face. choso could easily melt above you at the sight, lips parted recognized into a simple ‘o’ direction. “is that what you want, angel?” choso ghosts his lips over yours, dark toned eyes boring straight into your soul and he places his hands beside your head. telling choso you wanted him to fuck you raw, his thought was just another snap of his hips and spill of his cum but it was so much more, “yes” a breathless moan sets apart your lips before choso crashes them against your own. his cock is greedy, relishing in your warm tight talks before he reels his hips back to watch the juices drip from your hole. with only the tip remaining, choso plows his fat cock back inside you. “take it pretty girl, take it all” choso moans out, fucking his cock deep in your hole, painting your velvet walls and he shutters, shoulders trembling at the mess dripping past his balls. choso flickers his eyes down to your pussy sucking him back in, as if this whole time fucking you like this was what he needed, “m-more princess, wanna feel you more—need to feel you more.”

𖦹 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

“i feel how much you’re clenching around me, pretty” toji smirks, locking eyes with you and reaching a finger out to press his thumb on your bottom lip, “does my cock feel that good without a condom? we’ve barely started.” toji reaches a hand under your torso, rising you closer to him as he fucks his cock deeper in your hole. with no shred of dignity you cream around his length, your toes curling beside his head, and fingers clawing at his biceps. “now you’re going to be so sensitive angel but you’ll take this fat cock, yeah?” toji smirks when you only nod your head, and he’s reeling his hips back to watch the white ring wrapped around his cock. he’s only getting started and toji would be a fucking liar if he doesn’t want to cum right now, feel the way your pussy sucks in his white load but engrossing in your fragile features under his cock pounding in your tight hole is so much better. “now i’ll only fuck you this way pretty baby, this pussy derseve to feel everything” toji brushes his lips across your own and maybe you can hear what he says but it’s so difficult while your boyfriend buries himself inside you and that sticky white cum coating your inner thighs and staining the sheets below.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

the hymns of you | itadori yuuji + fem reader

Summer love is some of the sweetest, and it almost always happens by accident. Maybe that's why the relationship that blossoms between you and Yuuji is so magical; it's new, exciting, and it could be inconsequential in theory. As the end of the season dawns, though, you become convinced that theory and reality cannot be the same. Not this time, anyway.

genre: slice of life; fluff (it's just really romantic); falling in love; light hurt/lots of comfort; a teeny tiny bit of angst if you squint; reader attends uni in Japan; the story is set in an unnamed romantic place.

warnings: non-sexual nudity (skinny dipping, etc.); ambiguous relationship (eventually resolved!); she/her pronouns are used to refer to the reader; all characters are 21+ and in university contextually

words: 10.9k

content notes: this fic is more.. episodic and less linear than some other fics i've written, so keep that in mind. section-break lines (indented, bolded, + italicized) are quoted from Walt Whitman's poem "To You."

other notes: written as a part of @/katsupeach's a long, long fic collab, and, while i know emme's not on anymore, i'm thankful to her for hosting the collab and inspiring me, not only in the case of this fic, but in all of my work <3 thank you, too, to my wonderful beta readers, @yuki-no-akumu and @fairyfuyu! + tagging @anime-central and @hanayanetwork <3

WHOEVER YOU ARE

The first few steps off of a plane are always surreal, especially when your flight was ten hours. You regain your legs, your eyes, but not your mind just yet. When the sun touches your skin—or more accurately, your eyes—it’s with a stinging sort of freshness, the only of its kind in the stale airport. Once you’re out, though, it’s a different story.

It’s pleasantly warm and sunny, and luckily, the breeze is cool when it comes. When your cousin had asked you to house-sit for them at this time of year, you’d been hesitant. Sure, the scenery is beautiful, the local food is delicious, and you could rarely afford to travel, but you thought it would be deathly hot. You thought the air would be dense with humidity, unbearable. The air is sweet as you get into your cab, though. It’s sweeter as you pull up to your cousin’s neighborhood, and even sweeter still when you step out into the afternoon light to survey the town.

It’s small, albeit somewhat crowded. The buildings are old and brown, craning up into the sky at such angles that can only come with years of carrying the lives of so many, both breathing and long gone. Brick streets cobble along unevenly, and their once sturdy tops have been worn flat and smooth. The breeze moves more sluggishly the farther you venture, and on it ride the tightly mingled scents and words wafting between storefronts and clumps of friends and lovers alike.

Your cousin’s apartment overlooks the commercial district; it’s on one of the upper floors of a building just a block past the street’s last café. Behind it, however, are a mere few more blocks of housing, and then a wall of plush grasses and trees, untouched by anything beyond the barest effort to keep it behind the line of the road. Wheeling your luggage, your body feels odd: you’re eager to explore, but you’re exhausted. The only serious thoughts in your head are of a shower followed by collapsing into bed. The rest can wait.

I FEAR YOU ARE WALKING THE WALKS OF DREAMS

There’s something pure about the morning sunlight. Waking up naturally, unprompted by any alarm, you return to the world to find the delicate colorless glow, only scarcely interrupted by nearly imperceptible flecks of dust, floating through the room. Once the haze of sleep dissipates, you hum at the faint smell of…coffee? You shuffle to the window—still open from the previous evening—ah, right, coffee.

The café is visible from your bedroom window. It’s already open. A few people are sitting in the spots of shade on the patio, and you can see even more people milling about inside. The sight (and smell, of course) are reason enough for you to hurry up, get dressed, and head outside.

As you approach, the smell of coffee becomes accompanied by sweet butter and bread and brown sugar. The inside of the café is much larger than you expected, and you relax, grateful to claim a little table by the back window. You pick out a few pastries for yourself, order a coffee, and take your seat. You’re quiet, soaking in your surroundings, letting their noise and color tinge your edges. Letting them bleed into you and steal you away from any version of yourself that could have existed before this moment.

The tables around you, much to your ignorance, fill up quickly, and soon, someone is coming up behind you, tapping your shoulder.

“Sorry to bother you, but would you mind if I shared your table for a sec?”

It is unusual to be so acutely aware of the course of your life changing, but when you think back on this moment, there’s nothing else you can think to label this feeling as. Looking up, you meet a gaze so light and warm that you have to break eye contact.

“Yeah, sure,” you say finally. “I didn’t realize it was so crowded.”

“Oh, thanks a lot,” He smiles at you, and it makes your stomach flip. “I really shouldn’t have assumed you would understand me…I don’t know why I did, but I’m relieved. I’m Yuuji, by the way. I feel like you should know since we’re on a pseudo coffee date now.” The remark makes you chuckle, then he adds: “Sorry, I guess that was kinda forward, huh?”

“It’s fine. Nice to meet you,” you say, and then you give him your name. “Are you a student?”

“What gave me away?”

“Your book bag. Plus, you have that lost puppy look in your eyes.”

“Aw, really? I thought I finally got rid of that! I swear I know my way around.”

At that, you let out another laugh, and his smile widens. “Maybe I’m just projecting because I definitely do not.”

“No? How long’ve you been in town?”

“One singular night.”

“Oh, for real?” His eyes get big and round. “I don’t mean to presume, but if you need someone to show you around…”

There it is again: that perfect smile. It curves up into his whole face, lifting it and crinkling the delicate skin near his eyes. You let yourself be dazzled by it briefly, then make yourself look away again, chuckling.

“I do,” you say. Then, not allowing the space to second-guess yourself, you ask boldly: “You offering?”

“If you’re free after I finish my work, then yeah. I just have a few notes to revise.” He, after digging in his bag for a moment, presents a wrinkled notebook and a bag holding ten of the same black pen.

Taking a mouthful of coffee, you hum affirmatively. Then, you take a map of the area out of your bag, and, picking apart your pastry, look it over. The neighborhood and business district span for quite a while before fading off into the local orchards—not quite commercial but not small enough to just be a few trees in a field, either. In the opposite direction, there are plush fields until the cliffs, then a rocky beach cradling the lake.

The bustle in the café doesn’t falter, seeming only to pick up with the ever-rising sun of midmorning. It comes in pockets: rushes of crinkling wax paper and cordialities. You observe Yuuji when these pockets seem to swell—the voices in the air seeming to say one quick look won’t hurt.

You’d already noticed, of course, that Yuuji’s pretty. He’s not pretty in the way that flowers or fabric or even other boys are. He’s pretty like a tree at the edge of the season: sturdy, fresh growth mingling with vibrant older leaves. Strangely, though, where you might expect to find a hardened exterior, the bark is still soft, almost as if the weather hasn’t been harsh enough to rid it of its youthful pliability.

His eyes, though, felt different. Clear and warm, they seem almost to overflow at their edges. It may be because of where you’re sitting, because of the way the sun slips through his irises in tiny, yellow slits. Ordinarily, you might feel embarrassed when those eyes meet yours after you’d been staring for so long, but they’re so kind—unjudging and almost comforting—that you can’t find it in yourself to do anything but smile.

Yuuji smiles back, then glances at his phone. “Oh, a couple of my friends are on their way here. Would you be opposed to more company?”

“Not especially,” you say.

“You sure? I’m already all up in your business.” He chuckles.

“I’m sure.”

In nearly any other situation, you’d feel more nervous. Even barring how kind and friendly Yuuji is on his own, there’s something about being so far from home that distills your inhibitions. Those things that might be too scary or spontaneous at home are as foreign as the rest of your surroundings; no one thing is more or less familiar.

It’s only a few minutes before a couple more people come into the café, and, even before Yuuji waves them over, you’d known they were his friends. Bickering, one is tall, dark-haired, and outwardly frustrated while the other is smaller, her nose wrinkling at something.

“Megumi, Nobara,” Yuuji says as they approach. Quickly, though, he turns to you again. “Ah, I really should have warned you beforehand, but those two can be a little—”

“I’m fairly sure I can make my own first impression,” the tall one interjects. His voice is cold in the same way a frozen lake is cold: a hard, snowy exterior with something slightly warmer still lapping underneath. “Megumi.”

“Jeez, how’d this guy trick you into sitting with him?” the other one—Nobara, evidently—asks, eyes wide with genuine concern.

“Nobara!” Yuuji whines, tossing his head to the side. The dramatic pout he puts on nearly makes you giggle.

“What? It’s a perfectly reasonable question!”

Megumi wordlessly turns away from the three of you and heads to the counter, returning with an uncovered paper cup of black coffee.

“So, you said you’d be done studying by this time,” Megumi says, interrupting the other two.

“Huh?” Yuuji looks up at Megumi. “Oh, yeah! I am. But, slight change of plans. I made a friend—”

“—tricked someone—”

“—and she just arrived here, so she asked me to show her around. So like…you guys wanna come or like..?”

“Yuuji, if you already have plans, then we can do it another time,” you say. “I’m here all summer.”

“You are? Well, all the more reason to do it today!”

“How do you figure?” Megumi asks, checking the clock on the wall.

“I can’t let her go any longer not knowing her way around, can I? Plus, it’s not like I’ll fall behind.”

You never would have pegged him as being stubborn, but you’d come to learn quickly that trying to argue with Yuuji is nearly always futile. Upon further inspection, you’d see those tell-tale signs of his intentional leading: the twitch of his eyebrow into a partial furrow inviting you to challenge him; the slight upturn of his mouth at the recognition that you won’t. These would be followed, inevitably, by an innocent grin, like he didn’t know what had just passed through the air between you.

The four of you leave the café together: you and Yuuji in the front; Nobara and Megumi following closely behind.

Yuuji, it turns out, is a very bad tour guide. He’s wonderful at presenting the places, but he really doesn’t know where to take you, and it shows. So, Nobara ends up taking the lead, which certainly lends to a…different experience.

That’s how you ended up shoulder-to-shoulder with Yuuji, nudging his elbow with yours as he rattled off the best treats at that café and how kind the owners of that shop were. He would do this until he caught a glare from Nobara, then, after briefly trailing off, it would start again with a little chuckle in your ear.

“Guess I gotta tell it like it’s a secret, huh?” he says this time.

You giggle. It tickles, and he smells good when he comes so close, and you want him to stay that close because it makes your heart feel fluttery. You want him to keep his hand on the small of your back like when he guides you.

By the time the sun begins to set, Yuuji—Nobara—has shown you the whole neighborhood. It might have been a much faster trip if the four of you—Yuuji—didn’t insist on going inside of every single business, dipping into every neighborhood. At some point, just as you’re returning to the main square, Megumi and Nobara take their leave because they “actually really do have assignments.”

“Do you have anyone to eat dinner with tonight?” Yuuji asks you, wrapping his hands around the straps of his book bag.

“I was planning to eat alone,” you answer. “I don’t really mind much. You don’t have to eat with me if that’s what you mean. I’ve taken up way too much of your time already today.”

Though it doesn’t quite feel that way, does it? It doesn’t feel like you’ve had him for quite long enough yet. It’s nice to have a face that has become familiar, nice to have just someone.

“I don’t want to impose on your alone time,” he says, and, internally, you sigh. “But, um, you gotta let me show you some of the places around here. I can’t eat out like, super often, or anything, but some of the folks are cool and give discounts sometimes.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, and sweet talking the old ladies doesn’t hurt either.”

That earned him a playful swat on the arm, and, once your laughter died down, he bid you goodnight, promising—for the second time—to take you to dinner soon.

WHOEVER YOU ARE

You truly intend to spend much more time alone on this trip. You leave in the mornings, get a coffee, then wander around in an attempt to find something you hadn’t seen yesterday. These little walks brought you to meet a myriad of interesting people: old women eager to talk about their gardens; young children with their mothers, excited to ask you about where you’re from; shopkeepers and baristas who persuade you to try their new creations each and every time with ease.

What you hadn’t intended, however, was to run into Yuuji in almost all of these places. These meetings started off short; you’d exchange little oh!s and are you busy?s, but these eventually turned into linked elbows and whispers of walk with me.

Today, in particular, Yuuji finds you in a homeware shop some few miles outside of town. It’s quiet, and sweet notes of acoustic strumming play through the tinny little speaker near the cash register. The business is family-run, you learn—though you might’ve assumed as much, seeing as the chain restaurants and stores in this area are few and far between.

Each dish is different from the last.

“Need some dishes?” a voice asks, startlingly close to your ear. It laughs when you jerk away in surprise.

“Ah! Yuuji,” you whine, swatting his shoulder. “You couldn’t have said hello from a normal distance?”

“Oh, come on, that’s no fun.” He chuckles. “Now, are you getting dishes or not?”

“Probably not. I just like looking. Might get some for my friend, though. She asked me to bring her something back from here.”

“Mm.”

“Why? Are you getting dishes?” You pause, resisting the urge to inspect what you know is a mischievous grin. “What are you even doing here?”

“Just passing through. We went to the churches north of here for class today,” he said.

“Mm…for…? What do you study?”

“Film. I’m on this kinda hybrid directing-cinematography thing right now. I have to pick one or the other at the beginning of next year, but for now, I’m doing both.” He leaned on the display case and promptly stood up again under the scrutiny of the girl at the register. “Damn, she’s kinda scary…anyway, what do you study? Or, I mean, are you in school?”

“Yeah, I am. Not while I’m here—I’m on break, thank goodness. I’m kind of at this, like, point where I’m changing what I want to do again, but like, it’s fine.” You sigh. “This is all to say that yes, I’m in school.”

“But the studying itself is a complicated question?”

“Sure is.”

“Gotcha…” Yuuji leans back to look at the girl at the register, then he glances over his shoulder at the street through the window. It’s starting to crowd with folks who just got off work, and the lights of the night market flicker on. “You busy right now?”

“I’m shopping for dishes, actually.”

“Yeah, but after.”

When you look at him, he’s already watching you, and it makes your breath catch in your throat. Suddenly, you can’t remember if you’d been meaning to do anything in particular after this beyond just heading back to your place.

“I’m not busy,” you murmur. It almost sounds like you say it to yourself, but Yuuji either doesn’t notice or is too nice to say anything.

He shifts closer to you, putting his grinning face squarely in front of yours. “Can I take you to dinner then?”

The version of the town you see alone scarcely measures up to the one you experience with Yuuji. While still rich and vibrant, the world seems to open up for him like a flower. Maybe it’s the way he speaks to people with such ease. Maybe it’s the easy slant of his body against every food cart, eyes always glowing with indiscriminate curiosity. Maybe it’s his alarming awareness—his vigilant observation of his surroundings and subsequent reports back to you of did you see that sign? and oh, wow, that’s a nice song! can you hear it? And he leads you straight to the source: an older man singing and plucking beautifully at his guitar.

The man is leaning against a lamppost. His voice is heavy on the breeze: heavy the way your foot is when it sinks to the bottom of a puddle. Swaddled, engulfed, but dense and present and alive.

You glance at Yuuji, and he’s enamored. Humming and swaying: he shuffles about on the brick street, letting his shoes scrape along their surfaces. The light from the storefronts and windows and streetlamps pours over him in thick streaks of amber. It coats him. He glows.

Then, he’s turning to face you. He’s doing it in playful little swings, drawing his arms up to your forearms. To the gentle, bodied strumming of the guitar, he leads you toward the center of the street, and you follow a clumsy few steps before recollecting yourself.

“Yuuji, the restaurant—”

“It’ll be open in five minutes. That place is open basically twenty-four hours, come on.” He smiles, endearing. “Just one dance.”

He pulls you by the wrist, leading you back to the corner. He takes you easily out of the stream of people and into the empty road. The sound of the guitar—the gentle melodic plucks rising high, the near-sleepy underlying strum—weaves through the air, as light and buttery as the scent of the nearby bakery.

Yuuji holds you to him. You’re not flush against one another, though, not at first. He sighs contentedly, though, when you step in closer, arms draping around his broad shoulders, and holds you gently closer, too.

“See, isn’t this fun?” he teases.

You giggle and sway and nod lazily. His cheek is velvety soft and plush against yours, and it stiffens a little, molding with what you know instinctively is a precious grin.

“Mm,” you hum in his ear. “You’re good at this.”

“At what? Dancing? Oh, I know.”

“No, I meant having fun.”

He adjusts his arms around your waist. “Ah, I see.” There’s a hint of playfulness in his voice. “It makes me happy that you have fun with me.” That sentence, however, is completely earnest—it’s so clear that it makes your heart leap, and you have to shift away to look at his face. “What?”

He’s making that face again. It’s his genuine inquiry face: the one where his eyebrows lift and widen his pretty amber eyes even further, that puffs out his lower lip, turns his mouth down at the corners to make him pout—as if he doesn’t already have you at his whim.

“Nothing,” you say. Why do you say that? Why don’t you tell him that his words made your cheeks burn? “I just wanted to look at you.”

That makes him blush, and he laughs nervously. “Ah…come on,” he says and pulls away until he’s just far enough to take your hand. “We should head to dinner, huh?”

The bistro is dim and small and full of laughter. The tables are spread haphazardly about the room—turned and shoved and finagled nearer and nearer to one another as groups of friends combine and spread. You take note of the walls especially. They’re exposed brick and littered with photos and paintings and posters. It’s comfortable. The warm light from the random lamps and candles and sconces is diffused such that the room feels absolutely frozen in time: devoid of any movement forward or back.

Yuuji says something, but you don’t quite hear him over the hum of conversation and clinking of dishes. He rubs the back of his head…wait, is he apologizing?

Coming closer, you say into his ear: “It’s so special, this place. I like it a lot.”

You’ve been on enough dates to know that this night, this dinner, with Yuuji is certainly one. The way he guides you by the small of your back—just as he had the first day you’d met—in tandem with the not-so-subtle swipes he makes toward your hands, inviting and reinviting you to offer it to him: wanting, careful.

He hops up from your table to run to the bathroom, and when the server comes, rather than asking him to come back, you chance an order for Yuuji, feeling oddly confident in your selection. That feeling—the one blooming in your chest—is one you haven’t felt in a long time. Excitement with a swirling core of comfort at its center: it’s a fluttering that’s warm and cool simultaneously.

You swallow, and the feeling is dampened by something heavier. Unable to keep yourself from looking forward, you see the dark edge of your time with Yuuji, and, though it’s far off, it blankets your thoughts in a subtle layer of dread. How to peel this layer away, you wonder, and how to savor time through the lens of premature missing without it.

In other words, can you let this feeling, the fluttering, flourish? Can you let it take root—let it live, nourish and cherish it—when it scarcely has time to blossom?

“You’re looking pensive.” Yuuji’s voice jars you from your thoughts. “What did I miss?”

“Hm?” You move your hand away from your mouth—had you been biting your nail?—and meet his eyes. “Oh, the server came.” Taking a moment to lay your hands on the table, you pause, then say, “I ordered for you.”

At this, his face lights up. “Really?”

Warmth pricks at the nape of your neck. “Yeah…I hope that’s okay.”

“No, no, yeah, it’s totally cool. I’m excited actually to, uh, see what you picked.”

The heaviness is gone when you look at him.

As you continue talking, your hands drift closer to the center of the table. You pick at the wicker of the bread basket and the tablecloth until something more solid grazes you. Following the sensation with your eyes, you stiffen at the visual. Yuuji’s fingertips lay gingerly over your first knuckles, and he uses his index finger to lead the touch further across your hand. When you inspect his expression, he appears focused, and, when he meets your gaze, a bashful smile tugs at his lips.

“Ah, sorry,” he says and moves to retract his hand, but he’s not fast enough.

You hastily grab his fingers. “No! I mean”—you close your eyes briefly in frustration—“I don’t mind.”

You’re thankful for the lift in tension when the server comes with your food. What you’re not so thankful for, though, is how mystified Yuuji looks now. He eyes his food briefly, then looks at you.

“Have I talked to you about eating here before?”

“Um…I mean, you mentioned that you come here a lot..?”

“No, like, about the food.”

“No?”

Yuuji nods firmly, blinks, then says, “This is what I usually order.”

You ask him if he’s joking, and, laughingly, assures you that he’s not. For the rest of the night after that, as you eat and chat and head back home, that fluttering never subsides. Rather, it grows to a burn: a little fire in your tummy.

He takes your hand. He kisses you goodnight. You watch him head home from your window. He looks back at you over his shoulder. You already want him to come back.

NOW I PLACE MY HAND UPON YOU, THAT YOU BE MY POEM

Each morning in this place reveals that they never get old. You wake up a bit earlier than you had yesterday and—while tempted by the white-gold light trickling between the wispy clouds, the dense fragrant waft from the café, and the clusters of words and laughs that float upon the warm breeze—you ultimately decide to stay in and plan.

When you’d found out you’d be coming here, you’d made a list of a few things you wanted to do. The top among these included exploring the local town alone—an activity you’d been psyching yourself up for over the past few months—and finding a way to catalog some of the memories.

The most obvious way to do this would, theoretically, be taking pictures, but you’ve never really been one for taking pictures of yourself, much less asking random strangers to take them for you, so this was all but out of the question. A friend suggested bringing a Polaroid camera, which you considered, but the ideal ultimately gave way to your final decision: from today onward, you will record five seconds of video and compile them together at the end of the summer.

You find such compilations exceedingly sweet: they flutter through the moments that you decided ultimately to capture, they prick at your waterline and burn in the back of your throat with longing and wistfulness and thank goodness—there’s proof this happened. You hope yours turns out like that, too. You hope there will be such lovely things worth remembering.

The app you downloaded for it on your phone seems easy enough to use: hit record, select project, repeat. It compiles them for you (which you’re thankful for since video editing is hard enough on the computer let alone on your phone), so all you have to do is find the moments. Find them and remember to save them.

In your notebook, you put to paper the list you’d been constructing in your mind. This only lasts a few items, though, because after a brief moment you find yourself staring wistfully out the window, chewing the end of your pen absentmindedly.

On the street just outside your building, you see a group of university students, and the flash of pink among their ranks makes your heart leap. You tell yourself that he seems busy, that you shouldn’t text him—you are perfectly content spending some time on your own.

You are. That’s why you gather your things and head down to the bakery across the street—not the café. That’s why you make yourself look away each time your eyes raise to that picture window, clear as day, to watch his silhouette. That’s why you shake yourself and busy your hands with scribbling or picking at your scone, each time your heart aches.

Love has been equated to countless sensations, given endless names, drawn over the most extensive of similes and metaphors. For you, though, it’s quite simple: love is in the wanting. It is in the natural gravity of bodies toward each other. It is in the conscious decision to be closer. It is in the subconscious shifting, the unconscious mirroring. Love is choosing, again and again, to act when natural forces could guide you just as easily.

It’s calling someone up because you want to hear their voice again. It’s taking someone’s hand when brushing knuckles had been enough only moments before. It’s seeing someone through a window and hearing their voice in your head, their laugh.

You return your attention to your notebook, and, forgetting what the rest of your sentence was meant to be, you close it. Yuuji is leaving the café across the street. He sees you. Breaking from his friends, he jogs across the street and beams when he gets to your table.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he says. His voice is sweet. “I was hoping I would see you today.”

“Well, here I am.” You internally curse yourself. Well, here I am? Are you kidding?

Thankfully, though, Yuuji chuckles, then hums. “Here you are.”

I WHISPER WITH MY LIPS CLOSE TO YOUR EAR

You haven’t gone out yet today. You haven’t gone out yet, and you’re wondering if—at this point—you’re even going to bother.

The days have been long. They’ve been full of excessive internal translation, missed phone calls from home, and miscounting change so many times in a row that you briefly consider opening a local bank account just so you can avoid using cash forever. All of this, and you haven’t been able to hang out with the only person you know in this town for nearly a week. He’s a student, after all, who’s here to study.

The two of you stare at each other dumbly for a moment. Yuuji looks remarkably like he’s just turned up here on accident: his eyes are wide, eyebrows raised and alert. It forces a laugh through your nose, and the sound appears to bring him back to Earth.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he says. “You know, I wasn’t totally sure this was where you lived”—he glanced up at the ceiling briefly—“but I’m glad I followed my gut.”

“What’re you doing here?”

He rubs the back of his head. “Ah, well, I haven’t seen ya in a couple days, and I wanted to see if maybe you were free to do something.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess you don’t have my number…” you say, already stepping aside to let him in. “Not sure I’m gonna give it to you now since the default is apparently you showing up on my doorstep.”

“You into that?”

“Oh, I definitely am. It was very cute,” you tease.

You attempt to make quick work of showing him around, but Yuuji is easily distracted. He lingers in doorways, at the edges of counters and tables, hands itching to pass through your little piles of paper and memorabilia. He asks what’s yours, what’s not. What you brought from home.

Eventually, the tour ends in the kitchen, where your lunch remains half-made on the counter.

“What’re you makin’?” he asks, stopping you with a hand on the wrist.

“Oh, I was just making…whatever I had around,” you say, chuckling. “I didn’t really have a plan.”

He pushes his lips out a little, bobs his head, and turns to the counter. “You want me to cook for you?”

So, you agree to let Yuuji cook for you. Unsure of what to expect, you hover behind him as he collects more ingredients, rifles through your pantry for dishes, and clears a prep space for himself. Much to your surprise, he seems perfectly comfortable in the kitchen, though, and not in the reckless sort of way—in the way that only comes from hours of experience—and his demeanor brings a fluttering feeling to the base of your throat, a hum to your heart.

You come to stand behind him at the counter, watching over his shoulder as he measures oil.

“You cook a lot usually?” you ask gently in his ear. You don’t want to break his concentration, but that desire is not stronger than the one to hear his voice.

“Oh, yeah…a lot…actually…” Yuuji spoke slowly, not taking his attention away from the measuring spoon. He dumps the liquid into the bowl. “I remember when I first started cooking for Megumi—man, that dude has the funniest reactions to shit, I’m telling you.” He chuckles, then looks over at you finally before continuing, “Yeah, when I first cooked for him, he was all like, ‘Itadori. You’re gonna burn the kitchen down,’ and like, obviously I didn’t.” He smiles brightly to himself at the memory. “He makes me cook for him all the time now.”

“I have high expectations for this, then,” you say, voice thick with fondness despite its soft, airy tone.

Now that he’s finished with his task, you take the opportunity to drape your arms around his waist. Flush against his back, you can feel the subtle ways his firm back draws and flexes with each movement, each tiny adjustment, until his body is perfectly settled where he needs it.

Yuuji giggles and shakes his head. He feels around for another measuring spoon. “Well, don’t put ‘em too high. Can’t be disappointing you.”

I SHOULD HAVE MADE MY WAY STRAIGHT TO YOU LONG AGO

“Are you busy tomorrow?” Yuuji asks, staring at you.

Curled up on the bed beside you, he’s been watching you fold clothes for the better part of the last half hour.

You glance over at him, then chuckle. He looks so earnest—like he’s expecting you to possibly have anything to do beyond whatever he’s about to suggest.

“No, Yuuji, I’m not busy tomorrow.”

“Okay, great,”—he scrambles to sit up, scooting closer to you—“because I want to take you somewhere special.”

Giggling, you set the last towel in the basket. “Oh yeah?”

When you turn your head, you find him much closer than you’d expected, but you don’t startle, and neither does he. He laughs a bit through his nose, and you watch as his gaze raises slowly from your mouth to your eyes.

“Hey,” he says, voice low.

“Hey,” you say back.

“Um, I think you’re really gonna like what we do tomorrow. It’s in this place we all got to go at the start of our program, when we all like, uh, arrived,” he whispers, edging closer to you as he does. By the time he speaks again, the tip of his nose is brushing yours. “And uh, it was funny because…we uh…aren’t…”

“You’re still talking.”

“Sorry.”

There’s silence for a moment, and it sits in the air between your mouths, hanging—suspended in sap, crystalizing. Mindlessly, you wet your lower lip with your tongue, and you swear you can taste the sugar in the air. You two spend a few moments like that: breathing slowly into each other, acutely watching for those little shifts, the little nudges forward, teases toward closing the gap.

Yuuji becomes impatient first. He giggles. It’s an incredulous, airy sound—like he can’t believe you still haven’t kissed yet. And he really can’t; he says as much under his breath before laying his hand, warm and smooth, at the base of your head and finally comes closer.

It’s a slow beginning. His mouth hovers just before yours for a split second, and his lips drag up onto yours. They’re dry and soft, and he somehow applies the perfect pressure; you might think he’d somehow practiced, rehearsed, for this moment, but the giddy chuckle that comes out of him when you remember to kiss him back ruins the sensation so beautifully that you know he’s thinking about as much as you are right now—which is not at all.

Even as Yuuji lifts you into his lap, even as his arms snake around your waist, even as you giggle and sigh against his mouth, neither of you pushes any further. You swirl your fingers delicately in his hair, carefully combing the soft strands, and he holds you firmly, drawing half-minded designs between your shoulder blades. Just this, you think. Just this closeness is enough for now.

You don’t know why you’re surprised to find Yuuji alone when you meet him at the edge of town the next morning, but you are. He’d never said explicitly that this would be just the two of you, but nearly all of your activities thus far had at least started with the façade of being in a group. You’d all four meet someplace, then one way or another, you and Yuuji would inevitably split off—leading by entire city blocks or falling so far behind that you’d lose sight of Megumi and Nobara altogether. Not that you minded, really.

“Hey,” he says warmly, that usual smile tingeing his features at the sight of you.

And it really is at the mere sight of you, too, because even before you’d been within earshot, you’d caught him watching you absently, expression unabashedly dreamy.

“Good morning.” You shade your eyes from the sun beaming from just above his head. “How’d you beat me here?”

“Got excited,” he admits.

This, too, is unabashed—accompanied by his hands grazing your forearms, testing the boundary, waiting to see if you pull away. He hums contentedly when you make the move to take his hands.

“You didn’t eat yet, right?” He cocks an eyebrow at you.

“You said not to, so here I am, hungry and caffeine-free.”

“Not for long,” he promises, folding his fingers between yours. He watches your hands briefly, then continues, “I’ll get ya fed as soon as I can.”

Then, he’s leading you even farther from down and, eventually down a dirt path into what appears to be the forest.

“Yuuji, where exactly are we going?”

“I know it looks super sketchy right now, but I swear it’s not. You’re gonna love it.”

You do notice as he leads you that the greenery lining the road is tended to. The branches are cleanly kept just the right distance from the ground so that there’s a large, arch-like clearance. The grasses and bushes are full and long but trimmed, and, as you approach the bend of the hill, a subtle stone gateway comes into view. There’s no sign, but you can see the rows and rows of trees—all speckled with red fruit.

“Oh my gosh,” you say. “There’s an orchard this close?”

He beams at your excitement. “Right? And they let local people pay to pick some for themselves. Which,”—he tucks you under his arm, mouth coming just next to your ear—“is exactly why we’re here.” He nudges your temple with his nose. “You like?”

“I like.” You confirm your answer by turning and pressing a chaste peck to his mouth.

It’s the first kiss you’ve shared since the previous night, and a cool wash of relief comes over you both.

“Thank fuck, I’ve been wanting to kiss you all morning, but I wasn’t sure—”

“Me either.” You laugh. “’S okay, though. Next time you wanna kiss me…please do.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, and, when he does, you can hear the grin in his voice.

He takes your chin between his forefinger and thumb and kisses you again, with more substance. With more warmth and more sweetness, with your smiles breaking your lips apart and inviting the summer air between you.

The orchard is beautiful, and, while you do pick quite a lot of fruit, most of it is spent on your tongue before you even leave the dark underbelly of the canopy. Yuuji, with every few fruits, comes behind you and dangles a cherry or two right in front of your mouth.

“Ah,” he prompts, holding his mouth open like he wants you to.

“Aren’t you gonna eat any of them? I’ve had plenty.”

“Well, you know, I would, but interestingly, no one has fed me any.”

You laugh and take the fruit from him, raise your eyebrows, and turn to hold it in front of his mouth.

“You mean like this?”

“Uh-huh,” he says, holding your gaze as he takes it into his mouth.

Squealing, you tug your fingers away. You turn and sort through your collected cherries. “I’m surprised you haven’t asked me the cherry stem question yet.”

“Cherry stem question?”

“Oh, you know, ‘can you tie a cherry stem with your tongue?’”

“Oh…can you?”

You snort. “Can you?”

“I’ve never tried…” Yuuji admits. Then, he’s behind you again, arms around your midsection. “You want me to?”

“Listen, I don’t care one way or the other.”

Yuuji snorts, nudging against your temple. “Why’d you bring it up then, huh?”

You hum and lay your head back on his shoulder. “Anyway, I think I’m done picking. My basket’s full.”

He chuckles in your ear, and, once your things are all wrapped and prepared, the two of you head out of the orchard. The sun is inching away from the center of the sky.

Yuuji’s arm comes to drape around your waist, his hand falling against the swell of your hip.

“Hungry?” he asks. “I’ve still barely fed you.”

You move your bag to your other arm, and he takes the opportunity to press in closer to your side.

“I am hungry,” you answer. “Cherries aren’t especially filling.”

“Oh, you don’t have to convince me. I think my stomach is going to digest itself.”

Yuuji seems like he wants to say more, but something distracts him. He eyes you for a moment then ducks down to kiss you. It’s sweet and brief, a gust over your unsuspecting mouth. He tastes like cherry juice and sunscreen. He accidentally breaks from you by smiling too widely—of course, he does—and you chuckle.

“Sorry,” he says, letting his thumb drift lazily over your cheek. “Got excited.”

I WILL LEAVE ALL AND COME AND MAKE THE HYMNS OF YOU

You’ve never been sure how to feel about bucket lists. On one hand, it could make sense for people to set goals about life experiences—this life is a finite resource. On the other, though, it, as you put it to Yuuji and Nobara one night after a glass of wine, “is a little grim, huh? Measuring the like…relative distance we still have to cover before we die.”

They, of course, took the wine away after that, but Nobara egged you on further.

“I’ve got to find out what sorts of things our precious little visitor has on her bucket list.”

“I don’t have a bucket list.”

“I do,” Yuuji interjected. Then, ignoring Nobara when she insisted that nobody asked, he continued, “It has a lot of things on it, and like, I’ve done a lot of ‘em, so I keep coming up with more.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm, and it used to be just like, the basic stuff. You know, um, like, ‘study for my dream job,’ ‘live abroad,’” he said, gesturing to the room with a grin. “‘Skinny dipping. I don’t know, that sort of stuff.”

“Skinny dipping?” you repeated. “I’ve never done that.”

“No? Do you want to?”

That’s more or less how you ended up following Yuuji away from Megumi’s apartment and through the street. The lack of humidity is striking, and the breeze slips along the crook of your bare neck, and it feels almost cold on your damp skin.

“Yuuji, this isn’t allowed, is it?” you ask.

The grass whisks away the bricks underfoot, and the ground feels softer—almost pliable. Like it could swallow you. Maybe that’s the wine, though, or maybe it’s how intensely you can feel Yuuji’s hand in yours. You are scarcely able to notice the world beyond the pull of his calloused fingertips over your knuckles. He’s facing away from you, leading you in perfectly blissful ignorance of your surroundings to the edge of the water.

Then, he’s looking at you, and you know you’re in too deep. It’s there for a moment before he begins undressing, but you catch it: Yuuji looks at you like he’s cradling your face in his hands, like you consume his field of vision. Like you’re the world.

The sun has been down for over an hour, and, while the air is almost cool, the water is warm. You push out of your shoes and bottoms, then strip your top off, dropping it into a pile on the sand. The birdsongs dwindle in the few trees behind the beach. The water calmly laps at the shore.

Yuuji, of course, is in the water first. He wails dramatically at the slight chill, and you laugh, following after him with an ease that should surprise you but doesn’t. You let yourself live, then, in what you will come to call the delusion of Itadori Yuuji.

It isn’t that he is delusional but that he imparts it on you, makes you wistful, and lets you believe that you are special among all things. You’re sure—or rather you convince yourself—ultimately, that he must make everyone feel that way. He’s among a rank of people that illuminates the world with their endearing glances and effortless accommodation to the tiny shifts in your body language. Even among those, Yuuji’s attention is the sweetest, the purest, the most genuine, and lacking in any motivation beyond making you happy—Yuuji is special among those who seem special, too.

After tonight, you tell yourself that you will take care not to let this feeling fester too heavily. This is just fun, right? That’s what it must be with a stranger in a new place.

With someone you’ll never see again.

The water brings you back down to Earth from wherever you’d been floating. It’s fresh and cool, and it moves around you in weak sinks and swells.

“Yuuji,” you call, reaching in his direction.

He comes to you. His hand is warm when it circles your wrist: familiar.

“Having fun yet?” he asks.

“Cold.” Your pout is apparent when you reply, and he laughs.

“Well, you are naked and wet in the dark. Not exactly a cozy combo.”

You groan and continue forward until the water comes up to cover your chest. Then, you let out a little scream. Yuuji comes up behind you, slipping his arms around your waist and clutching you against his firm chest. He laughs in your ear when you throw your arms above your head and cheer—congratulating yourself on having done it.

“Yuuji,” you say, laying your head back against his shoulder. “Yuuji, I love being with you so much.”

The stars are beautiful, only partially obscured by the shadow of his hair. His grip around you tightens.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” you confirm. As if to punctuate this further, you release a deep breath in a contented sigh through your nose. “Wanna be with you all the time.”

When his lips touch your hairline, they’re smiling. He leans down to give a long kiss to the corner of your eye and another to your temple. His mouth comes close to your ear, and he murmurs: “I’ll stay with you, okay?”

“Forever?”

If in this moment you hadn’t still been intoxicated and sleepy, you, firstly, never would have asked him that, but, more so, you wouldn’t have had to learn through recollection that just here, Yuuji is sad.

It’s apparent in the weight of his sigh when it lands on the shell of your ear. It’s apparent in the way he tucks you tenderly closer, in the way he closes his eyes—eyelashes tracing sweetly against your skin.

Now, though, these gestures just feel purely loving to you. They feel like he’s trying to swallow you up, envelop you, and he is, you think.

“We should get out of here,” he says. “You need to sleep.”

At this, you whine and twist, forcing yourself round to face him. Once you do, you push your face into his neck, kiss his pulse point, and embrace his midsection.

“Stay with me,” you say. “I’ll miss you.”

YOU HAVE NOT KNOWN WHAT YOU ARE, YOU HAVE SLUMBER’D UPON YOURSELF ALL YOUR LIFE

The light is beautiful. It’s beautiful on its own; peachy and blinding, it smells of the bread baking down the road and, faintly, of the oregano from the garden in your building’s courtyard. Even as the sun begins to set, it’s warm. It peeks between Yuuji’s fingers when he brings a hand to his hair, pushing it away from his forehead.

That, too, is beautiful. His face is pink with a combination of the sun and his own bashfulness, cheeks peaked with a grin as he looks at you, sat back on his heels.

“You can’t look at me like that,” he says, lowering his eyes. “I might get the wrong idea.”

In the past couple of weeks, a more solid routine has developed between you and Yuuji. The mornings are pretty much fair game for you since he has a majority of his coursework and activities then, but once he’s done, the game is on. Most of the days you just wander around, but sometimes you’ll visit nearby neighborhoods or beg him to take you to whatever tourist location was next on your list.

The early evenings, though, are a different story. Those, you spend largely in your apartment. In the lull between whatever you’d done and what you had prepared for after sunset, the two of you recharge. You cook together. You talk, you watch films and share music. You exist together. Today, you weren’t doing any of those things. No, today, you recharge by touching.

You reach for him, and his shoulders are firm and smooth under your hands. You hum, and the sound winds up into a little chuckle.

“What could that be?”

“I dunno, maybe that you like me,” he jokes. “That you think I’m pretty.”

The words sound strange when he says them like that: as if it’s not already apparent that not only do you like him—as if he’s not objectively pretty. You frown slightly and, when he comes in close enough, you move a hand to the back of his neck and meet his eyes.

“Yuuji, that’s not the wrong idea.”

He laughs and shakes his head, the tip of his nose catching on yours as he does. “Hey now, don’t tease me.”

“Yuuji,” you say, trying to be stern. You fail, of course, as his hands come under your back, pressing you up into him. “Yuuji, shut up, you’re pretty.”

The laughter continues, but it comes, this time, as a giggle into your neck, one you mirror into his ear, and, as much as you love him close—as you love him this close, especially—you nudge him away.

His upper body is strong and built, the rigid curves of his muscles padded over with the gentle plush of relaxation. His skin is like honey: rich and smooth save for the scars and freckles, little bumps and abrasions that quiver when you draw your fingers over them in lieu of asking where they’d come from. Those things don’t matter anyway, not right now.

Not when he’s right here and his breath is catching in his throat, when you can’t tell if he’s nervous or excited. When he chuckles, the sound is airy and sweet and buzzing with that stunning purity characteristic of all of Yuuji’s sounds.

He takes his lower lip between his teeth. “C’mere,” he says, and takes you against him more intentionally. It’s clear that he’s had enough of your leading.

You make a noise of surprise when he hoists you up into his lap. In this position—with him flat on his back, his thighs keeping you sitting up—you feel particularly vulnerable. That warm, pre-sunset afternoon glow illuminates you, sets you alight with fresh exposure. You’re still wearing your tee shirt, though; it’s the light itself. It’s the air that makes you feel so seen, so looked at.

Yuuji smooths his strong hands over your thighs where they lay, parted, at his sides. He takes his time guiding them up to your hips. He’s patient. It’s not in a restrained sort of way, either. It’s not as if he wants to be going any faster. He’s savoring you, watching your legs mold under his grip, and you can tell from the look of curiosity—of near bewilderment—on his face. His brows are furrowed, his lower lip tucked securely between his teeth, and the bridge of his nose is wrinkled with some combination of concentration and thought. Yuuji’s expression softens, though, when his eyes return to your face.

Your expression must be a hair too solemn for him because he brings a hand up and slides it to hold the curve of your jaw.

“What’s up?”

How can someone who touches you like this not stay?

There are so many platitudes about the “purposes” of peoples’ entrances into your life, and, ordinarily, you don’t give too much value to them. Since you’ve met Yuuji, though—or, more realistically, since you’ve started wanting to keep him—they’ve been floating around in your head, these platitudes. One of them says something along the lines of how it doesn’t matter how long someone stays in your life, and what matters is the “impact” they made on you during that time.

And you can’t help but think that’s kind of cruel. Maybe it’s selfish, but while the thought of saying goodbye at the end of the summer is painful, what really makes your chest ache is the idea of trying and failing to make it work from across the world. Of missing all of him but his voice. Until when?

But what is the point of asking Yuuji that now? What’s the point of making him wonder, too, when this pretty sun will meet its horizon? Because surely, he knows it will, too.

You shake your head, smile absently, and assure him: “Nothing.”

He chuckles through his nose then lets out a long breath and slides his hands down your arms. They slip gingerly under the hem when they reach it, and they’re rough on the soft skin of your waist. He watches your face as he touches you this time, and you can feel something—maybe gravity—begging his gaze to drop once again to his hands.

Being with Yuuji is not dreamlike, you decide. Rather, it is dreaming itself—floating miles above the Earth.

“Yuuji.”

“Hm?”

“What’re you thinking?”

He’s quiet for a moment longer, keeping his eyes low. Then, he smiles. It’s not his usual smile, though. It’s subdued, almost directed at himself rather than at anyone else.

“Mm…just thinking about how much I like you.”

In any other situation, you might laugh out of sheer awkwardness, but you can’t. Not when he’s looking at you like that: like you’re a mirage, a treasure. Instead, then, you fold over him. You close the gap between your faces and, babying his chin with your fingers, kiss him.

Talking, sorting your thoughts out into coherent sentences, is hard. It’s hard to tell him how much it means to hear him say that. Hard to explain how much you have to fight not to disbelieve it. Kissing, though? Kissing is easy.

He cradles you when you kiss him. Yuuji holds as much of you in his arms as he can and savors you. He kisses you simultaneously like you’re the only thing he’s ever sought after in his life and like you were dropped in his lap directly from heaven.

Like this, that bitter feeling in your throat is soothed. The doubt is quieted for a few moments longer.

NO PLEASURE WAITING FOR OTHERS, BUT AN EQUAL PLEASURE WAITS FOR YOU.

“So, how’s that video thingy going?”

Yuuji sets his chin on your shoulder, a welcome patch of warmth in the cool evening air.

There’s a field just beyond the farthest reaches of the neighborhood. Really, it’s a small few meters of grass between the town’s edge and the cliffside. The plants are unkempt, and they burst from the ground in wild, uneven bunches. You’ve eaten here, come to read your books or draw or write, but it’s better tonight because the stars are out—and because Yuuji suggested you bring a thicker blanket to put down.

“Pretty good, I think. I keep forgetting to check it and like, make sure I’ve actually filmed stuff, but, well, here. Let’s see…”

You bite your lip, scroll back to the beginning of the footage, and let it play. From there, the clips start. The app has put a song lightly over it, and the melody underscores the raw audio incidentally, and you rub the edge of your thumbnail with your index finger, paying close attention—both reminiscing and also carding through your mind to see if maybe a better song would fit this clip or that one.

As the montage draws closer to the current day, you open your mouth to say something to Yuuji but stop short. The next clip that plays is not one you remember recording. So is the next one, and the next.

They’re of you, these mystery clips. From afar, from above, from behind, from angles you could never get on your own: they follow you, cradle and savor you. You look ridiculous. You laugh. You’re clumsy and thinking and making weird faces, and it takes you a moment to realize it, but these, too, are curated.

The ones you’d picked, of course, were curated. They’re what you thought you’d want to remember, what you thought was beautiful, and what you wanted whoever watched this to see. But these are different.

“Yuuji…” You take your time looking over at him. “Did you take these?”

“Sure did.” He shifts so he can look at you better. After a few moments of silence, his expression shifts into one of discomfort. “Was, um, was that okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I mean…I just didn’t…I didn’t know, obviously, uh.” You sit up. Scooting, you angle your body to face him. “When—How did you take these? When did you have my phone?”

“Baby, you ask me to hold your stuff all the time,” he says, mouth quirking into another smile. He leans toward you, setting his fingers over yours and pressing them gently into the blanket. “Honestly, I was like, one hundred percent sure you knew I was doing it.”

You pout, then glance at your phone again. “I look like shit in this one,” you say, chuckling as you point to the clip.

He giggles. Then, shaking his head, says, “What? No you don’t. You never look like shit.”

“You’re just biased since you like me,” you tease.

“Nah, that’s not it…It’s more like, I’m biased because I’m in love with you.”

You always thought that the reactions to confessions you’d read about in books or seen in movies were dramatic. Surely, surely they see it coming. Surely they never feel as excellently blindsided as they act.

You learn just now that you have been wrong about that. You learn, too, that—more than anything else—you are so afraid of what this means.

“Yuuji…Yuuji…you’re not…”

He gives you a moment to elaborate, but when you don’t, he says, “I’m…not? Why not?” He pauses again, nose wrinkled a little in confusion.

You don’t have a good answer for him. How can you explain succinctly that, over these past couple of months, you’ve both convinced yourself that your relationship could never work out and fallen hopelessly in love with him? How can you explain that you’ve come to the conclusion that he is far too good—too special—to be asked to prolong some throwaway summer romance with a nobody like you?

“Why not?” he repeats. He wants you to tell him. His mind, you’re sure, is blank for options because he just can’t imagine them. Or maybe he can. “Are you um…are you worried I’m lying?” He looks down, mulling that over, then shakes his head. “Because…you know me, you know I don’t just…I wouldn’t tell you I love you if I didn’t mean it.” He bites the inside of his cheek, then meets your eyes fiercely.

Yuuji, while always gentle with you—as you’ve learned—feels intensely. His emotions burn, eat him up, swallow him, and he needs them to be known. The way he looks, the way he interacts with the world, is his way of putting up in lights: this is what you make me feel. He’s not the best with words most of the time, so he has to choose them carefully, wrap them in their proper exteriors.

After thinking for a second, trying once again to rationalize this racing, nerve-led pulse, you reply. “It’s easy to love someone in a place like this, but I promise you that you don’t. You don’t know me without these beautiful fucking hills or live music or delicious local coffee—”

He cuts you off. The words burst out of him, unable to be contained. “Or baking even though the sun is about to come up or talking about books in some random bookstore until the owner kicks us out or falling asleep in the middle of the afternoon because the light is so warm, and you’re so pretty especially when you lay your head on my chest like that…Yeah, it’s really easy to think I love you during all of those times.”

Yuuji takes a breath, then continues: “How did you know which sandwich I wanted without asking? And…and how did you know I’d love that movie before we even watched it? Or—Or that I would forget my bag if you hadn’t grabbed it? Listen, you might not know my birthday or my blood type or whatever, but…you know me. I think I know you, too. I mean…don’t you think so?”

He watches you for a second, and you have to look away from him because the visual breaks your heart. His shoulders have fallen uncharacteristically low: deflated. His brows are drawn, his mouth in a frown that tries so so hard to remain shallow.

“Yeah…”

“Then…” he says your name. Then he says it again. “What’s wrong?”

You stare at your hands in your lap. You stare so intensely, unwilling to lift your gaze because you know he’ll be there to match it with his amber eyes. You know they’ll be clear and swimming with adoration. Yuuji always looks like that—like you mapped the stars onto the vast expanse of sky above, like you’d done something remarkable by just being.

He says your name. “Look at me,” he breathes. “Please.” He sounds so sad. His voice is ordinarily so vibrant, his presence so large, but in this question, he has made himself small. Small enough to fit in your ear and beg.

When you do look at him, it’s everything you’d been afraid of. He’s pleading and earnest, and you’re in love with him.

“I’ll never see you again.”

“Why not?”

Why not, indeed. What’s stopping you aside from the ocean? Aside from the very boundary that separates this fantasy life from your very real one back home?

The capsules of our lives are broken by circumstance again and again—so why now can you not choose to break it yourself? To let its insides gush out onto the ground to be remade as you like?

Your vision is blurrier than before when Yuuji draws you back out of your head and into the world. He says your name, and the sound of it settles in your chest, begs you to curl around it, push it inside. Deeper, deeper, please.

Stay close to me.

“Why not?” you repeat back to him. His hands are gentle when they hold yours.

“Yeah,” he says. “Why won’t you see me again?”

“Yuuji…we met here,” you begin. Your voice is quiet, wavering. Your life will go back to normal, you explain. You have school and your friends, and you live far from this place. “And you do, too, Yuuji, and summer is going to end.”

A beat of silence passes. Then, Yuuji asks what you mean.

“Sure it is,” he adds. “Does…were you thinking this, uh, we’re just like…a summer thing?”

The unease in his voice makes you hesitate, but you nod. “I-I mean…not because I wanted it to be, but like…you know. How could it not be? People always say they’re going to stay in touch. That they’ll call or whatever—‘make it work,’ but they don’t. They don’t call, Yuuji.”

You ramble on along the same tangent line for a moment longer before a whimper, a small, pitiful sound, breaks through, and you cover your mouth with your hand.

The field is quiet save for your ragged breathing. A dog barks nearby. Yuuji takes you carefully by the shoulders.

“I want you. I wanna be with you in whatever way you’re willing to take me. But, baby, have you really been thinking that way the whole time?” He comes closer, takes your face in his hands, and he can’t contain his chuckle when he notices your shocked expression.

“I…I don’t know. I just…it…it didn’t really occur to me that you’d want—”

“I don’t know where home is for you, but I live in Tokyo, and I have a fully functioning cell phone. I’m gonna call you. I’m gonna call you so many damn times you have to block me.”

He grins. The hot weight in your throat lightens slightly. It slicks with the smallest coating of relief, and warm air fills your mouth, sneaking in between your lips, slightly parted in shock because did he say—?

“What?”

“I go to school in Tokyo.”

A cool rush of air passes between you. The grass tangles and untangles, ticking. The ocean laps at the rocky beach somewhere in the distance. Someone shouts, then, joined by another voice suddenly, laughs. They laugh together. Then, once again, as the sky further darkens, it is quiet.

“Of course, you do.”

Yuuji tosses his head back and beams at the sky. He looks at you next; he takes your face in both of his hands and kisses you. He kisses you over and over. He kisses you quick and hasty and like he’ll die if he doesn’t feel your mouth on his right this second.

Then, you make him pause, breathe, and he laughs. It’s melodic and clear, and it bubbles out of him in long, sweet tendrils. You hold his face in both of your hands and just let yourself look.

For the first time, the burning fog begins to clear. There is no heavy longing in your chest when you see him. In this moment, there is only hope, and it spreads to meet the horizon. It runs as far and wide as it can. It lets you stay here in this dream for now, fearlessly.

Through birth, life, death, burial, the means are provided, nothing is scanted,

Through angers, losses, ambition, ignorance, ennui, what you are picks its way.

jjk mlist | main mlist | long, long fic collab

DISCLAIMER! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. all characters in all works are depicted as 18+ regardless of the published canonical work unless otherwise stated.

all rights reserved © by kodzucafe. my work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. all fanfics belong to me, please do not copy, translate nor repost the fics or files seen above as this is strictly prohibited.

---

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

---

three stages of gojo satoru

a little wip of a watercolor piece i am making for a friend as a secret gift <3

---

GETTING WELL FED TODAY YES SIR

Thinking about how Yuuji would be so warm and sturdy to hug when you're feeling affectionate. How he'd oblige and fuck you against the wall or while carrying you because it's a huge turn on and because HE CAN make it happen. How he'd cook together with you and clean up after because he wants you to relax on the couch after feeling satiated from the bomb ass meal. Yuuji is just everything. There's just too much Yuuji brainrot going on

18+! All characters are of age here. Minors don't interact.

Yuuji is the perfect boyfriend! His hugs are the BEST. He's so warm and cuddly and so so affectionate. When he hugs you, you feel so safe in those strong arms. He is so happy when you come to him and just snuggle against him. And HE is initiating that all the time too. Coming up to you and pulling you into his arms. Hugging you so tightly during movie nights. Or pulling you onto his lap while he's playing video games because he wants you close to him. When you're cooking, and Yuuji hugs you from behind. Or when he surprises you by joining you in the shower, and suddenly you feel his strong hands on your hips and his buff body pressing against your back.

And yes, Yuuji is a STRONG BOY! He can just pick you up and carry you and bounce you on his thick cock while walking around. He's just so horny and can't wait until you're in the bedroom! And when you whisper in his ear, "Just fuck me right here, Yuuji." He'll moan and slam you against the next best wall and just wreck you there.

He can be so gentle and sweet despite his strength, but he can also fuck your brains out, turning you into a sobbing mess when he rails you with such hard and fast thrusts that your eyes roll back.

And he will always take such good care of you afterwards! Licking you clean and kissing you and making sure you have something to drink and you're comfortable. He is so sweet!

Yuuji knows how to do all household tasks, he's used to doing all of those on his own, so you know that Yuuji is the type of guy who doesn't need to get asked to do something. He just does it! And yes, he loves taking care of you, and if you had a long day, he is adamant that you do nothing and just relax. "I'll clean the kitchen real fast, baby! You go relax! Please pick a movie for us, and I'll join you in a few minutes." You can reward him with cuddles, and he'll be the happiest guy!

He is the perfect boyfriend aww!

---

my gorgeous boy 💕

Baby, you're a firework

Your Yuuji's date for the Jujutsu Academy's fancy New Year's Eve party, but fireworks aren't the only thing exploding that night.

Pairing: Yuuji x Reader (female) Genre: smut, fluff Word Count: 5k Warnings: 18+, smut, dirty talk, fingering in a semi-public place + getting caught (kind of), a bit of oral, creampie, squirting. This is very self-indulgent. I just couldn't stop thinking about Yuuji in that sexy suit and that tie! I didn't plan for this to become so long, but here we are, sorry! All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

"That dress looks so sexy on you."

Yuuji's breath is hot on your cheek as he murmurs those words to you.

You smile and lean back against your boyfriend as his large hands hug your waist, and he presses his solid body against your back. The ghost of a kiss brushes against your cheek before Yuuji pulls away.

He's taking a step back to lean against the mirrored wall of the spacious elevator that's taking you several floors down to the hotel lobby where you're gonna meet the rest of your friends to attend the highly exclusive Jujutsu Academy New Year's Eve party.

This year's location, the Four Seasons Hotel, was Gojo's idea, and you definitely don't complain. The room you and Yuuji share is the best you've ever been in. And the party gave you the perfect excuse to go shopping with Nobara to buy the fanciest and sexiest party dress you could find. It's hugging your figure in all the right places. Yes, you totally picked this dress with Yuuji in mind. And you're thrilled that he seems to be as much into it as you hoped he would.

"Thank you, baby. I'm glad you like it. But you are very sexy too."

You smile at him and grab his tie, pulling him closer to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

"My gorgeous boy."

The dazzling grin on his handsome face lets you know that he is very pleased about your compliments.

You're only stating facts, though. Yuuji is really sexy as hell in the black custom-tailored suit, with the orange shirt beneath in combination with a black tie and fine dress shoes. You silently thank Gojo for deciding to take all the guys to his favorite men's tailor to get suits for all of them.

Of course, you love Yuuji in his everyday clothes. His old comfy hoodies and grey sweatpants look very hot on him, or even his Jujutsu Academy uniform. He's Yuuji, after all! He's always the most gorgeous person to you.

But seeing him in fancy clothing is something new, and it's making your head spin and your pussy throb. He looks so fucking hot!

The suit fits him perfectly. It's snug, accentuating his athletic figure with the broad shoulders and narrow hips, the toned arms and thighs, and his firm round ass. He's a mouthwatering sight, and you're sure he's gonna turn a lot of heads tonight while being endearingly unaware of what he's doing to people.

Anytime you mention how good-looking he is, he gets that cute flush on his cheeks but then just laughs and scratches his neck and replies with a: "Ah, I don't really care what people think of me. The only one I want to look good for is you."

Currently, his strong arms wrap around you, holding you in place so he can kiss you, parting your lips with his tongue and caressing it slowly against yours. It's a slow sensual kiss, promising that a lot more will follow after this. The kiss tastes like loud moans and tangled limbs and ruffled sheets. You know you will fall apart on Yuuji's cock tonight. And your body is already reacting to the prospect of it.

You moan softly into Yuuji's mouth as his hands wander down your body, admiring your shape, caressing your curves, and landing on his favorite part, your ass. His large hands are squeezing it through your tight dress, kneading your round flesh firmly, as his tongue delves deeper into your mouth.

For a moment, you catch yourself wishing that you could just skip the party and go back up to your hotel room and just spend the whole evening on the luxurious bed and in the fancy shower, having Yuuji fuck you in every way you can imagine.

But the soft ping! of the elevator reaching its destination puts an end to your little fantasy and to your make-out session with your very sexy boyfriend.

Yuuji's hands give your ass one last squeeze before pulling away, smiling sweetly at you,

"Fuck, I'm already looking forward to the after-party in our room!"

"Me too. But let's be my handsome date first. I want to show you off a bit."

You smile at his delighted laugh and the way he's scratching his neck so cutely, always getting a bit flustered when you praise him.

"Aww, that's not true! I'm the one showing YOU off!"

He grabs your hand, laughing happily as he pulls you along towards the hotel's restaurant.

It's a fancy establishment indeed. The spacious room where the party is held looks breathtaking with the finest marble floors and luxurious furniture decorated with gold elements. Big chandeliers are hanging from the high ceiling, glittering beautifully and illuminating the tables with the decadent buffet and stacks of champagne glasses.

Gojo did an excellent job choosing the location. And judging by his satisfied smirk as you pass him, you are sure that the higher-ups are really pissed off at him for throwing such a decadent party.

Yuuji spots Megumi and Nobara among the guests and leads you over to them, his warm hand holding on to yours.

The next two hours pass quickly. You're busy chatting with your friends and some people from the Kyoto Academy. And after eating your way through the delicious buffet, Yuuji spins you around the dancefloor while both of you laugh so hard that you have tears in your eyes.

It's a fun evening! But when you feel your boyfriend's hands on your hips and his lips on your cheek as he leans closer to kiss you, you can't help but wish you could have him all to yourself and feel his hands on your ass again and on other parts of your body. You don't often get the chance to be in a hotel room this nice. It's a shame not to make good use of it.

As if reading your thoughts, Yuuji's arm around you tightens, and his lips brush your ear.

"Wanna take a little break?"

You nod and follow him off the dancefloor. His large hand envelops yours and pulls you towards a door leading to another room. A peek inside shows that it's a smaller room, probably for private parties, and the best thing is that it's unoccupied at the moment.

Yuuji pulls you over to a comfy-looking armchair in front of an artificial fireplace and plops down on it, pulling you with him, so you end up on his lap with a little yelp which turns into a happy laugh.

You wrap your arms around his neck, smiling and leaning closer to kiss his cheek sweetly. And get rewarded by another bright smile and sparkling honey eyes beaming at you.

Yuuji's warm hands are on your body immediately, caressing over the bare skin of your arms and thighs and gliding over your dress. He presses his face into the side of your neck, warm mouth opening against your skin and sucking gently.

A shaky breath escapes your lips. Yuuji's mouth is always so sweet on you, kissing and licking and doing other things in a way that makes you so so weak.

"Yuuji..."

"God, baby, you look so cute in your little party dress. You drive me crazy."

His voice is a hoarse whisper against your ear, sending a bolt of desire through you. Your fingers run over the short hair of his undercut, making him purr into your ear, and it only makes you squirm more. It's embarrassing how hot and wet you feel between your thighs just from being on Yuuji's lap and feeling his lips on your neck.

But it seems that you're not the only one affected because there's a growing hardness beneath you. And sure enough, Yuuji's voice is back in your ear:

"Can you feel what you're doing to me?"

He pulls away to look at you with that horny look in his pretty eyes that always makes you want to fuck him for hours on end.

You keep the eye-contact as you grind slowly onto the growing hardness in his pants and nod.

"Hmm, yeah, I think I can feel it."

Yuuji licks his lips.

"What about you, sweetie? Are you wet for me too?"

Before you can answer him, one of his large warm hands already slips between your thighs and under your dress. Your breath hitches when you feel Yuuji's fingers rub against your panty-clad clit.

"Oh, did you also buy new panties for tonight?"

You did indeed. Actually picked the sexiest lacy black and pink bra and panties you saw, not caring about the little fortune they cost. You knew you would feel sexy in them and could already imagine Yuuji's eyes widening when he saw you in them. But you hadn't expected to feel his thick fingers rubbing you through those new panties while still at the party.

"Yeah..I..ah! I wanted to surprise you with a whole outfit, including nice underwear...but I guess I messed the new panties up already."

You definitely did. You're so wet that your cream is soaking through the thin lace and onto Yuuji's eager fingers.

Yuuji's pupils are dilated as he watches you, a slight flush staining his tan cheeks as his fingers slowly circle your clit.

"That's ok, baby. I like it when you mess your panties up because of me."

You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from moaning, but your body still reacts to Yuuji's words and his touch, jerking when his fingers pull your panties to the side now and play with your wet clit in tender slow caresses, spreading your wetness all over your pussy.

You can't take it anymore and bury your face against his shoulder to hide your fucked out blushing face. You know anyone could walk in on the two of you any moment. The party is just one door away, all the noises, the chatter, and music drifting over to you clearly. But Yuuji's calloused fingers are so perfect, rubbing you in such a delicious way that you can't bring yourself to care.

Yuuji has you squirming on his lap. You're breathing hard and spreading your legs sluttily for him, rutting needily against his talented fingers, chasing the pleasure he gives you so lovingly.

"Fuck, you're so perfect, princess. So sweet for me. Wanna make you cum right here. Cum on my fingers, baby, please."

He sounds breathless, so turned on, and his cock is pressing hard against your ass. You want to undo his pants and get that gorgeous cock out and ride him right here until you both cum all over each other. But it's too risky. It has to wait until later.

And Yuuji has other plans for you anyways. You muffle a moan against his strong shoulders when he pushes a thick finger into your slick hole. Not even the party sounds can drown out the squelching noises of his middle finger pumping in and out of your creamy pussy. Your sweet boyfriend is really on a mission to make you cum. His thumb joins in, flicking slowly over your wet clit.

If you were alone now, you'd be moaning his name like a slut, but here right next to a room full of people, all you can do is sob desperately into Yuuji's shoulder as he edges you closer and closer to your sweet release. You're shaking and riding his finger needily.

So close...so close...

You feel the familiar coil deep in your belly, and right when you're about to reach that sweet point of no return, you hear a voice:

"Oh, there you are!"

Your head jerks up from Yuuji's shoulder, and Yuuji's hand stops moving.

To his credit, he only sounds a bit out of breath when answering Nobara:

"Yeah.. um.. were you looking for us?"

You are so glad that you're back is to Nobara, so she doesn't see what is going on. You're trying to close your thighs, hoping it doesn't look too suspicious. But Yuuji's finger is still snuggly inside your throbbing pussy, his thumb rubbing against your clit when you move your legs. Oh, fuck!

Nobara chooses that moment to walk further into the room, causing your heart to jump to your throat. If she comes any closer, your short dress won't hide what is going on here, especially not with the way Yuuji pushed it up so he could watch your pussy getting fingered by him.

Your fingers dig sharply into Yuuji's neck, and it finally makes him snap out of his pussydrunk daze, and he pulls his hand away from your creamy folds, sliding down your thigh, leaving a trail of your slickness on your skin which makes you shiver slightly.

Nobara stops a few meters away, eyes widening as she gets a better look at the scene before her and your blushing faces.

"What were the two of you doing before I came here?"

"Nothing!"

"Geez, Itadori! There's a wholeass party going on outside this room! You're seriously fucking in here?"

"We weren't! It's not what you think!"

Nobara rolls her eyes.

"Of course, it is like that. Get a room or something! And I mean a private room! Your hotel room preferably. Because I sure as hell don't want to see this!"

She turns on her heels and is gone before either of you gets a chance to reply. Your gaze meets Yuuji's, and he smiles sheepishly.

"Ok, that was close."

You both burst out laughing at the same time. The situation is too awkward not to laugh, and humor is the only way to deal with it.

Yuuji grins at you, but you can still see how horny he is, half-lidded eyes, dilated pupils, and yeah, that eager hardness poking your thighs.

You put a hand on Yuuji's chest and let your fingers play with his tie as you smile at him.

"Maybe we should really go to our room."

"You were close, weren't you? I'm sorry, baby, I really wanted to make you cum here. But I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"I know. You always make me feel so good, Yuu."

The soft moan coming out of his lips makes your pussy clench. You will lose your mind if you don't get his fingers or his thick cock into you anytime soon. And so you slide off his lap, coming to a stand on slightly wobbly legs. But Yuuji's strong hands are there to steady you. He smiles at you and slips his hands under your dress again, but this time only to fix your panties and smooth your dress down.

"Ok, nice and proper again. Let's go!"

He takes your hand in his and puts his other hand on your waist.

"Can you walk right in front of me? I, um.. you know I think the other party guests don't want to see how much my dick loves you."

He's so cute! You can feel him against your ass, still so hard for you. It makes you bite your lip, and it takes all of your willpower to just keep on walking and not press your ass against Yuuji's cock.

The two of you half stumble to the elevator, grateful that none of your friends run into you, and you manage to sneak away without anyone trying to stop you.

The moment the elevator doors close behind you, there is no stopping your boyfriend. You squeal in surprise when strong hands grab you and Yuuji pushes you against the wall, almost knocking the air out of you.

His lips are on yours, kissing you heatedly. His soft tongue is pushing your lips apart and exploring your mouth hungrily as his solid body presses you against the elevator wall.

You love how strong he is, how he can just slam you against the wall and take control. Yuuji is such a sweet and caring boy, always so careful to treat you with respect and love and so eager to please you. But he's also so fucking big and strong and could literally do anything he wants with you.

His hands are exploring your body, gliding down your back, grabbing your ass, and kneading it firmly. You moan into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck and stroking your tongue eagerly against his, encouraging him to keep going.

And Yuuji definitely doesn't seem like he will stop anytime soon. He lifts you up, making you sit on the railing in front of the mirrored wall as he's pushing between your thighs and grinding his cock against you, making you lose your mind a bit more. You wrap your legs around his hips tightly, craving more contact.

Lifting you up made your dress ride up, and now Yuuji's rutting against your soaked lace panties, so close to you. You think you can feel the heat of his throbbing cock through the fabric of his pants. And you know that you're making a mess of his pants now, too, smearing your cream onto it as Yuuji grinds against you needily.

But Yuuji doesn't care about the state of his outrageously expensive pants. All he seems to care about is the feeling of your warm pussy against him, and he's craving to get more of it. He's gasping into your mouth, making those cute needy sounds in the back of his throat that always drive you crazy.

You barely register when the elevator reaches your floor, but luckily you don't have to do anything because Yuuji just carries you, stumbling backwards out of the elevator, still kissing you passionately, large hands kneading your ass, and pressing you tightly against the massive bulge in his pants.

Faintly you hope that no one is in the hallway right now because they'd definitely get a good show. But you can't really bring yourself to care because Yuuji's lips are too sweet on yours, and the only thing that matters is to be as close to him as possible, feeling every inch of his strong body against you.

Yuuji somehow manages to get the card out of his pants and open the door to your room, almost tumbling inside because the door opens too quickly. You both yelp and then laugh while still trying to keep on kissing.

Yuuji sets you carefully down, making sure that you're able to stand before letting go of you to close the door and take off his suit jacket. He turns back to you only a second later, looking at you with such a hunger in his eyes that it makes your pussy clench.

You both reach out at the same time.

This time it's Yuuji's back that hits the wall as he pulls you against him, his lips finding yours again in another passionate kiss. But now you're finally alone, and Yuuji makes good use of that fact, slipping his hands under your party dress, pushing it up over your hips, and tugging on the hem, lifting it further until you help him pull it over your head. Yuuji lets it drop to the floor carelessly. After all, his hands have something much more important to do: Groping your ass.

You gasp into his mouth, biting his bottom lip, making him moan needily.

Your hips jerk when one of his hands slips between your thighs, sliding over your wet panties, caressing your needy pussy through the soaked-through thin fabric. You can't help but grind down on his hand, needing more of him.

Just when you are about to beg him for more, sweet Yuuji is already pushing your panties to the side, sinking his thick finger knuckle deep into you again.

"Ah, Yuuji!! Fuck... I want you, baby!"

His breath is hot on your neck,

"Yeah? I'll take good care of you, princess. Gonna fuck you anyway you want and as long as you need."

His sexy promise is followed by a series of hot wet kisses against your neck while he pumps his finger in and out of your pussy.

He lifts his head from your neck, and his honey gaze meets yours. The way he's looking at you makes your legs shake. It's the combination of his piercing gaze, his thick finger fucking your soaking wet pussy, and the feeling of standing here in front of him only in your underwear while Yuuji is still almost fully dressed in his sexy suit.

You whimper needily and your hands come to rest on Yuuji's pecs, nails digging into the soft material of his orange button-up shirt. Your head is spinning. You know you'll cum on his fingers if he keeps on going, and part of you wants that. The part that needs to find release right now. But what you crave the most is Yuuji fucking you full of his cum.

Yuuji's free hand comes up, and he puts a finger under your chin, tilting your face up to look at him.

"Your pussy feels so sweet, baby. It will be so fucking perfect for my cock. Do you want that? Want me to fuck you until you cum on my cock?"

"Yes... please, Yuuji, fuck me, baby!"

Your fingers shake slightly as they're unbuttoning his shirt hastily. You just want him out of these clothes, want to see more of him, feel his warm skin under your hands, admire his tan muscles.

He helps you, steadying your hands and then slipping out of the shirt once you've unbuttoned it completely. His veiny hands come up to work on the knot of his tie, but you stop him with a soft touch of your hand against his.

"Leave the tie on, baby."

Big honey eyes look at you, and there's a sexy grin on his handsome face.

"Why? Do you like it?"

Instead of answering him, you grab the tie in question and wrap it around your wrist to pull Yuuji into another heated kiss. Moaning against his mouth,

"Yeah, it's so sexy on you."

Yuuji grabs your ass firmly at your words, moaning loudly into the deep kiss you share. He's pressing you flush against his muscular body, letting you feel his huge erection that's just waiting to get freed so it can plunge into your horny little pussy.

And then you're lifted up into Yuuji's strong arms for the second time today as he carries you to the large hotel bed. You wrap your legs tightly around his hips, hands running through his soft pink hair as he keeps on kissing you heatedly.

It still astounds you how strong Yuuji is, how easily he can lift you and carry you around. It's a fucking turn-on. Such a strong guy being so sweet with you. You moan into his mouth, grinding against the hardness straining against his pants.

Yuuji has reached the bed now and lays you down on it, large warm fingers sprawling on your thigs and pushing them apart, leaning down to kiss your clit through your lace panties, eliciting a loud gasp from you as your hips lift off the bed involuntarily.

Many other guys would taunt you about it, tease you about being too easily aroused by them. But not Yuuji. Instead, he looks up at you from between your thighs with so much love and desire in his honey eyes.

"You're so cute, baby! Your pussy is so sweet for me! Can't wait to fill it up. Ah, fuck!"

He trails off, moaning loudly as he sits up to open his belt and pants with impatient fingers. You're panting lightly as you let your hungry gaze wander over Yuuji's gorgeous buff body, the naked chest with those defined pecs and erect nipples, the taut abs which flex so beautifully as he's pulling off his pants. And that gorgeous cock which slaps heavily against his abs, so hard for you, ready to fuck you into pure bliss.

You can see it twitching and filling out even more right before your eyes as another bead of pre-cum pulses out of the beautiful swollen tip.

Your walls clench at the sight. You need him so much!

Yuuji's fist wraps around his thick length, palming the head and then pumps it several times, slicking it up with his pre-cum, stroking it to even more hardness. You know he's gonna absolutely wreck you tonight.

He smiles when he catches you checking him out. And then he's finally kneeling between your legs, leaning over you and letting his hands wander over your body greedily.

You're breathing heavily when his calloused fingers slip under the straps of your bra, pulling them down together with the rest of the bra, admiring your tits for a moment before his warm lips engulf one nipple, sucking firmly on it.

You moan loudly, arching up against Yuuji's mouth, your hands tangling in his soft pink hair. He doesn't stay there though, he's too horny, needing you too much. Just as much as you need him. One last flick of his velvety tongue over your sensitive nipple, and Yuuji continues his way down, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your tits and belly. He stops at your panties and nuzzles his face against your wet pussy, inhaling your scent and moaning needily at it.

You couldn't stop even if you wanted to. Your body is reacting to Yuuji's touch, to his closeness, and your legs spread even further automatically, welcoming him, begging him to take you.

He pulls down your soaked panties, not bothering to get rid of them completely, but instead just letting them dangle off one of your ankles, while he's already grabbing your calf and lifting one of your legs onto his shoulder.

You bite your lip, looking up at Yuuji with your heart hammering wildly in your chest. Your hands twist in the bedsheets and you lift your hips needily. You must look like such a horny mess with that fucked out expression on your face and the glistening wetness between your legs.

Yuuji's honey gaze is taking you in, looking at you with a burning desire, and a low needy growl escapes his lips.

"Fuck! I'm sorry that I can't appreciate your cute underwear more, baby, but I really need to fuck you right now, or I'll lose my mind."

And then your head lolls back when Yuuj rolls his hips, rubbing his hard cock over your creamy pussy, coating himself with your juices. His tip teases your clit into stiffness before pulling back again to position himself at your tight slick hole.

Both of you gasp in anticipation. Yuuji's thick cockhead is lubed up with your pussy-cream and his pre-cum, stretching you open so deliciously.

You moan his name when he pushes into you with a hard deep thrust. He must be so horny if he's taking you like that. Not holding back but fucking you hard and fast.

He's so strong, all those buff muscles and the inhuman strength. He's so fucking big. Even his cock is so thick and long, stretching you open so deliciously.

He's fucking you hard and deep today, ramming into you with every firm snap of his hips, hitting your sweet spot at the perfect angle, making your back arch and hips buck as you're trying to take even more of his cock into you. You're shaking with need and pleasure, sobbing his name.

And he looks so hot. Pink hair disheveled, mouth hanging open, honey gaze full of lust, the tie around his neck slightly undone looking so messy. And he's panting and moaning loudly, sounding so sexy, as he fucks into you.

A sudden craving comes over you. You love this boy so much. You need him in your arms, need to feel all of him, need him on top of you, around you, pressing you down, putting his strong body all over you.

You grab his tie and wrap it around your wrist and give it a firm tug. Yuuji gasps lightly, and his eyes meet yours. You moan his name shakily, followed by another tug on the black tie.

He seems to understand what you need without you having to spell it out because he leans down, letting you pull him closer to you by his tie until he can kiss you.

The new position makes Yuuji put more of his weight on you, pushing your legs up to your chest and burying his cock even deeper in your tight heat. You whine needily into his mouth. It feels so good to be beneath him, getting pressed down by his firm body, feeling his thick cockhead prodding your sweet spot with every powerful roll of his hips.

You tug on the tie, and the two of you kiss sloppy and wet, both moaning loudly, lost in each other and in the pleasure you feel.

Yuuji is rutting into you with vigorous, strong thrusts, not holding back tonight. And you love every second of it. He's fucking you so thoroughly into the fancy hotel bed, filling the room with the loud slaps of his heavy balls against your pussy and the wet noises of your slick folds milking his perfect cock.

Outside the hotel the first fireworks are setting off. You can't see them because the curtains are drawn but you hear them becoming more frequent, filling the night with their loud banging noise.

It's New Year's Eve and you're really missing the fireworks! But it's ok because you have your own fireworks and explosions in here in this bed.

"Baby, I'm close... cum with me, princess."

But you're faster than Yuuji, already crying out in pleasure and clenching around his wonderful thick cock, pussy spasming wildly as your orgasm rips through you.

"Yuuji!! Fuck!! Yuu.. oh Yuu!"

He fucks you through it, making it last so long, fucking more and more spasms out of your pussy. You sob his name over and over again, your pussy grabbing his cock greedily as your hips buck again and again. He's gonna fuck another orgasm out of you if he keeps going like that.

And just as you think that thought, Yuuji's reaching between you, his calloused thumb finding your puffy clit and rubbing it in tight circles.

"One more baby, please give me one more! Need you to cum with me!"

And he cums just a moment later, pressing his forehead against yours and moaning your name, followed by the cutest mewls while he empties his heavy balls into you, filling your pussy with his hot cum.

But his thumb keeps flicking over your clit, sloppily now that his orgasm washes over him, but it does the job perfectly, and you cry out hoarsely as you cum a second time, clenching hard and this time squirting all over Yuuji's cock.

And now you can not only hear fireworks. You can also see them. Behind your closed eyelids. Yuuji put them there by fucking you so good.

The following day you meet Megumi and Nobara for breakfast in the hotel's restaurant. Yuuji smiles brightly at his friends, always the sweet sunshine boy.

"Happy New Year, guys! That was an amazing night, wasn't it!?"

Megumi eyes him suspiciously over the rim of his coffee cup before setting it down.

"I didn't see the two of you. Did you even watch the fireworks?"

"Oh, we made our own!"

Several things happen at once: Nobara spits out her drink and kicks Yuuji under the table. You squeal and dig your nails into his knee. And Megumi groans as if he's in pain and buries his face in his hands.

But Yuuji is just sitting there with a proud and smug grin on his handsome face, clearly enjoying the whole scene. He looks at you with sparkling eyes.

"What? It's true! Baby, you're my firework!"

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you liked it! Please let me know what you think! I would be very happy about comments and reblogs!! This story was rather spontaneous. I thought about New Year's Eve and how Yuuji would look at a party. And then I had the image of our sexy boy in a suit and tie in my mind and couldn't get it out again. I HAD to write a story about it! I always wanted to tug on Yuuji's tie and pull him into a kiss! So now all of you got a Happy New Year kiss from Yuuji, and also a Happy New Year fuck! What a way to end 2021 and start a new year!

---