Pizza

by captainrukiashusband

It seemed like a practical arrangement. Who would say no to it? (itakugi)

She couldn't say she was entirely surprised when, even after having graduated and gone their proverbial separate ways, Itadori still found the time to talk to her. More often than not through text, but occasionally she'd get a phone call in the middle of the afternoon for a quick chat. Never anything super important, which is why she always felt relief when his contact appeared on her screen, his thoughtless smile and friendly eyes peering up at her as she sighed, shoulders tense from the day. His voice, familiar and elated, washing her of her stress.

She was surprised, however, by how often he asked to hang out. It wasn't like a weekly thing, but every few months or so, he'd say something like, "I could really go for a trip to the mall," or, "Man, I'm really feeling that bakery you took me to before."

Not quite forthright, but the message was crystal clear. He missed her.

She was never greeted with a hug, but his smile was all-encompassing. A sun, enveloping her in its warmth. She always breathed in just a little too deep when he bounded up to her, anticipating that which they've never exchanged. Unable to decide if it felt unfinished, these greetings. These goodbyes.

Nevertheless, Itadori held of all her shopping bags and paid for their food. And they talked and talked until there was nothing else to talk about.

It occurred to her once that it felt as if Itadori was an extension of her. Her thoughts would echo back to her, every suggestion she made parroted, agreed upon, as if he didn't have any of his own. And it was comfortable, sometimes.

They shared the same drink and neither one of them commented on it. It felt natural, as if they'd always done it.

She began to look forward to these hangouts, to the point that he no longer needed to ask. The answer was always a quick, relieved, "Yes."

.x.

She couldn't say when exactly the thought had occurred to her – sometime, perhaps, between relationships. There was always a reason they failed, none of which she ever took personally.

She lamented this to him anyway, as they sat on her living room floor drinking beer and watching reruns of a show they'd coincidentally both liked as kids. He watched the screen, sipping his drink, but she knew he was listening. His eyes flickered as she spoke, absorbing what she was saying. She used to hate to admit it to herself, but he could be an excellent listener when he wanted to be. And absolutely perfect for venting to. His easy nature molding to her every word, agreeable, as always.

She never shied away from the gnarly details, with him. The fights, the ugly parts, and acutely aware that, at times, she was genuinely to blame.

"Maybe they're not for me," she said, turning her can in a circle by increments. "Relationships, I mean."

"I don't think that's true," he said, leaning on one elbow. "You just haven't found the right one, is all."

"I think I should just take a break from them in general," she brushed him off. "I keep pouring my energy into these people and not getting anything back."

"I mean it's healthy to work on yourself, too, I guess."

"Why, is there something I need to work on?" she asked, with a little more bite in her tone.

He held his hands up, but as long as they've known each other now, his reaction was no longer laced with genuine fear. He gave an easy smile. "A work of art is never finished."

She rolled her eyes, but found herself pleased by his response. She sipped at her own beer as if to hide it. "I have to be honest, though...I don't want to back out of dating completely."

"I don't blame you. Dating can be fun."

"Have you done a lot of it, lately?" she asked, but already knew the answer.

"Ah, no," he said, scratching at the back of his head. "Not lately. Haven't had a lot of luck in that department."

"Why not?" She couldn't wrap her head around the thought that absolutely no one was interested in Itadori. She'd be loathed to admit it out loud, but he was a decent catch, as of late.

Nobara wasn't ashamed to say she'd checked out her friends. She'd always reasoned to herself that they very obviously didn't have any game, and would definitely turn to her for pointers. Within days of meeting them, she had already decided what style of clothes or hair would suit which boy best. She'd taken great pains for them – a pair of long-abandoned Pinterest boards sat with their names on them, at one time obsessed over by her – and they'd never be the wiser. She didn't plan on telling them until they actually asked for help.

She had memorized the slope of his shoulders, and the veins in his arms when he pushed his sleeves back. His honey brown eyes, the golden undertones of his skin. Within seconds of meeting him, Nobara had already decided what color would look best on him. She would accept no other opinion.

Back then, though, he was a clumsy teenager. The unmistakable softness of adolescence clinging to his face desperately.

And now, with him grown a little taller, a little more refined, Nobara found herself giving him sidelong looks. She held herself in the highest regard, with the highest standards, and to be desirable to her was the highest compliment.

"I'd fuck you," she said, holding his gaze. The sweet curiosity on his face shattered by shock.

He nearly choked on his drink.

She guessed that, to him, that had come out of nowhere. But the cogs in her mind were already winding. Chin nestled in her palm, absorbing him in this new light. This new perspective. And it clicked right into place, as if it had always been there, but had never found its place within her. And now it has.

As he sputtered and coughed and tried to reign in his response, she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to be with him. At first an utterly foreign concept, what her mind immediately tried to shake, but as the details unraveled, she warmed to the idea. Itadori has held her before, a select few number of times. She recalled them now, sliding her thumb across the metallic rim of her beer can. His hands, which were so powerful they could crumble through concrete without any output of energy on his end whatsoever, fitting themselves against her curves snugly. She had splayed her hands across his back, and at that time she hadn't been particularly aware of how he cradled her close against him, too caught up in the spike of fear within her – how fast he'd be running, and all in the dark.

That, coupled with imagining his mouth against her throat, or his teeth tugging on her earlobe, and his body fitting against her, and his hands sliding across any span of flesh he could get to – as soon as it stirred any amount of heat within her, Nobara was already decided.

"Let's fuck," she said, with finality. No room here for his objections to it.

What objections would he have, anyway?

Itadori held his knuckles against his mouth, in the middle of wiping away the liquid that had spattered against him, eyes snapping to hers quickly. There was a brief second in which he looked not all together against the thought, the curiosity returning, but not so sweet and innocent this time. She saw his gaze flicker to her mouth, which she'd painted a deeper red than usual, and then her blouse.

Or the shapes beneath it.

She straightened, and his eyes flickered away. His skin flushed pink, and he reached toward his collar to pull it higher self-consciously.

"Y-You're kidding, right?" he asked.

"I'm absolutely not," she affirmed.

"Why this—so suddenly?"

"Is that a no?"

He looked as if this was the question he'd hoped she wouldn't ask. He scratched at his hair nervously. Seconds passed without an answer, and it was clear they were getting nowhere, so she fessed up.

"Why not?" she asked with a shrug. "You scratch my back, I scratch yours."

He visibly mulled it over, covering his mouth with his hand as he stared at the furthest wall. Perhaps imagining the same thing she had. She caught the telltale darkening of his eyes as they went unfocused, and the way he shook himself of the thought quickly. He seemed to come to some sort of conclusion, squeezing his eyes shut as he said, "I'm not that lonely."

Nobara felt an inexplicable tug in her chest, which she instantly recognized as rejection. Not a usual feeling for her. He read her expression before she even realized she was standing up.

He lifted his hands, sputtering, "Wait! That's not what I meant—"

"It's very clear what you meant," she cut him off, her tone much icier than she expected it to be. "Thank you, Itadori, for that. I think it's time you went. You've overstayed."

The panic on his face was palpable. "No, wait, I – I really –"

"You," she said slowly, "have ten seconds. To get out of my house."

He stood instantly, banging his knee against the table. He barely reacted to it. "I—"

"Ten," she said.

He rushed to put his shoes on, stumbling out her door as she followed. He spun around as she caught the edge of the door, his eyes wide, filled with guilt. "Uhm, I – I –"

"Bye." She shut the door firmly and locked it.

And then sighed, shakily, because it wasn't as if she was immune to rejection, either.

.x.

It was really on her, she supposed, for having put him on the spot like that. A newfound awkwardness shivered through her when she woke to a text from him the following morning, begging for her forgiveness and insisting that this was a huge misunderstanding.

That was her fault, she guessed, flipping her phone over wordlessly, that she had assumed Itadori was even insinuating that he was looking for a hookup. He could have easily meant something else entirely.

She's misread people before, but this one genuinely kind of hurt.

Which was why she refused to respond to him.

The texts kept coming, all day. As she brushed her teeth and washed her face. As she rinsed off her dishes after breakfast. As she loaded her laundry into her car to drive to the laundry mat.

At first remorseful and apologetic, and then pleading for her response. And then panicked, worried over her safety.

The sting in her chest was the only reason she silenced her notifications.

She was mildly disappointed he wasn't sitting outside her front door when she returned, and immediately felt foolish.

They weren't together. And he was likely at work anyway.

It occurred to her then he might try to come over after work, and in avoiding her own feelings about it all, she got dressed to go out.

She reasoned that it was to give herself some necessary space. That in waiting for him to show up and throw himself at her feet, begging for forgiveness, she was allowing herself to be toxic.

Which was her ordinary route. And it wasn't acceptable now.

That being said, she thought, wasn't ignoring him also pretty toxic of her?

She shoved the thought away, rummaging through her top bathroom drawer for a hair clip.

It was late afternoon by the time she stepped outside again. Warmer than usual. Before locking up, she decided to lose the jacket, tossing it onto her couch last minute. There wasn't a plan here. She drove around aimlessly for a good while trying to decide if she was hungry.

By the time she stopped somewhere in downtown, the sun was already setting.

She parked in a busy area with lots of traffic, and started walking. She was at a stop light waiting to cross when she decided to check her phone again.

Fushiguro had texted her a couple of times, too. She noted this with complete surprise, as their messages tended to stay within the realm of how are yous and we should hang out soon. This was every couple of weeks, and never for extended periods of time.

It read: Hi. Call me.

She stared ahead, thinking. Obviously this was a result of Itadori reaching out to him out of desperation – and she was very curious to know what he had said to explain why she was ignoring him in the first place – but Fushiguro wasn't someone to be ignored. He would show up on her doorstep. He would track her down. If there was even a shred of concern over the well being of someone he cared about, he would do everything in his power to ensure they were safe.

She clicked her tongue, relenting. She opened his messages and selected the call option, clearing her throat as she brought the phone to her ear.

He picked up on the first ring, which made her heart skip nervously. "Nobara."

"Hello," she said stiffly, beginning to cross the street when the light switched.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. Just out for dinner. Do you think it's too hot for ramen?"

"Yes. It is."

She smiled.

"Are you ignoring Itadori?"

She dropped her smile, and cleared her throat again. "Yes."

"I don't need to know why –"

"He hurt my feelings, I'll admit it. He probably didn't mean to, and it was probably my fault, but I need space. I need to...metaphorically lick my wounds. Anything he has to say right now will only make it worse, honestly."

"Hm," he murmured over the line, and for a second she wondered if he'd tuned out. "I get it. He's really stupid. But I think you...should hear him out..."

"No," she said stubbornly.

He sighed, "Nobara-"

"No," she whined, moving into a small alleyway to step out of traffic. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves. She shut her eyes and rushed out, "I've been doing this since last night and I don't want to admit I was wrong to. I know the mature thing to do would be to talk to him, but I'm not used to rejection, Megumi, and I can be petty if I want to!"

He gave a small, exasperated laugh. "You two..."

She flattened a hand over her middle, leaning her shoulder against the wall. She didn't respond.

"He told me, to an extent, what happened. Don't misunderstand, I don't want to get involved in this mess. I don't even know why he had to tell me. But I don't think you're necessarily wrong. As long as you're okay, and this...eventually gets resolved. It would kill Itadori to never see or hear from you again."

"He's still my friend," she said softly. "I will never let either of you go."

She heard his smile. "Okay. Good. I'll leave you to it. I suggest squid maybe?"

She popped a kiss over the line. "Ciao. Nerd."

She cut off his, "Then why did you ask—?"

With that, she melted into the crowd again in search of food.

.x.

After settling on some dumplings for a light dinner, she frittered about between a few stores, convincing herself she was only window shopping. Her fingers made contact with a deliciously silken blouse and she caved, instantly. It was several stores before she'd built herself a new outfit, and had decided she was more than satisfied when she stumbled across a particularly eye-catching department store on the way back to her car. She'd passed it many times before, but had never deigned to enter, more than convinced she'd never need to.

But Nobara's ego had been adequately bruised. Upon entering, a mannequin stood proudly centerfold, in a pool of white light, and she imagined herself wearing the same thing. Lacy, ruby red, adorned with the milkiest pearls. She could imagine herself absolutely spilling out of it, the flimsy fabric positively tested to its limits. She wouldn't be able to resist herself.

"Fuck it," she said to herself, rounding the pedestal to find her size. "What do I have to lose?"

A significant amount of pocket change, it would seem. She nearly choked when they rang up the purchase.

Regardless, she emerged from the store in a flourish, decidedly peppier than before. She loaded her things into her trunk, and started toward her apartment.

On the drive she allowed herself to think over what happened, and ultimately how she would go about explaining it away. She didn't want to have a long, emotional conversation in which he, from a place of genuine kindness, assured her that she was beautiful and that any man would be lucky to have her, and in which she jabs him in the ribs in response because it was the last thing she wanted to hear. She thought over every possible response he could make, and hated every single one of them. But this was necessary, because at the end of it all, what she really wanted was to have him in her life. The thought of them losing complete contact because of one weird moment agonized her.

As soon as she pulled into a parking spot at her apartment, she unlocked her phone. She opened his texts, which had petered out, naturally. She guessed Fushiguro had told him she was okay, and this had at least reassured him. The last text he had sent was a final plea of concern, desperate to know she was safe and sound, and promising to leave her alone as long as she was.

She breathed in through her nose, settling her nerves, and gave a long sigh before clicking the call button.

She nearly hung up when he answered on the first ring.

How infuriating that both of them – these absolute boys – were so responsive. Always accessible, always available to her, always worrying about her safety and well-being. She was fucking sick of it.

"I'm so sorry—!" he cried out.

"Shut up," she snapped, aggravated.

"I'm sorry," he choked out softly, and her throat went tight.

She slumped back into her seat, head falling against the headrest. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting against every urge to tell him off.

"Are you there?"

"Yes," she finally sighed. "I'm here. I'm okay. I'm safe."

"Listen, I—"

"I don't wanna talk about it," she said quickly. "Really. I just want us to drop it and move on."

"But," he stuttered over the line, "I – I hurt your feelings. And I'm so sorry, Nobara. I really – I –"

"It's fine," she said. "You didn't hurt my feelings."

"I did, though," he whined. "Can I see you?"

"Tonight?" she asked, yanking her key out of the ignition. "I don't think so, Itadori."

"I'm already here, though..."

She had been in the middle of climbing out of her car, and had almost tripped onto her face in response. "What?"

She straightened, and there he was. Sitting at the bottom of the stairwell, with his chin in his hand, only just barely spotting her as well.

He was on his feet immediately, bounding over to her.

Panic rocketed through her, from the roots of her hair and plummeting down to the tips of her toes. She fumbled at her phone, jamming her foot back into the car to climb back in. But he was already there. "Hey!"

She gave a small, fearful shriek, flinching into the door.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to spook you."

"Ita – what in the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, twisting around in this confined space to face him. He stood a head or so taller than her, and she shrank away further when he crowded in on her.

"I needed to see you," he said, haphazardly placing a hand along the top of her car door, moving it further away. "Megumi told me to give you time, but I couldn't – I need to do this correctly. You deserve a proper apology—an explanation."

"An explanation?" she echoed, and then shook her head. "No, look... I'm sorry, okay? I'll admit it, what I said was out of line and completely inappropriate. Really, just, entirely unprovoked. I absolutely don't want it to ruin our friendship. I want us to forget this happened, and move on, and just go back to normal, okay?"

He leaned his arm against the top of her car, his expression pensive. "Back to normal?"

"Back to normal," she confirmed with a nod. "I just wanna drink beers with you while we watch old game shows or something and just...unload from the day. I just wanna be able to call you whenever and shoot the shit a little, you know? Like we always do."

"That's never going to stop," Itadori said with certainty. He lifted the hand on the roof, at first with the same level of confidence, and then halting. His fingers skimmed her hair, which framed the side of her face. It seemed unintentional, until he did it a second time, this time ending the motion by resting his hand on her shoulder firmly. All the while holding her gaze, his eyes intent. "You can always count on me to be there for you – I'll always be a phone call away, for anything. You say the word."

"Thank fuck," she said, so filled with relief she leaned into his touch. She crossed her arm to fold her hand over his. All of her worries fell away so easily she wanted to laugh, tipping forward as if to share this with him –

"But you caught me off guard last night," he continued, and she caught herself, freezing in place. His fingers curled against her shoulder for a second, as if second thinking himself. She watched his face flush, like it did last night. He looked away, sliding his hand out from under hers; never quite giving her time to feel rejected, again, because it immediately moved down her arm, wrapped around her elbow, and held her there for a minute. He looked away, first beyond her, and then at her mouth.

He gently but firmly pulled her toward him by the elbow, watching her expression carefully.

He swallowed nervously, and then said, voice cracking a little, "Let's fuck."

Nobara moved without thinking, smacking him against the mouth with the back of her hand, the very same that had been holding his before.

"Ack!" He released her arm to cover his mouth, turning away from her reflexively. She more than likely hadn't actually hurt him, but he still looked very much wounded by her actions. "What was that for?"

She couldn't fully respond, heart pounding in her ears. Was it anger? Confusion? A mild form of arousal? It was impossible to say. She ventured on the side of anger, her safest option at this point. "I don't want a pity fuck."

He backed away as she shut her car door, moving around him to get to her trunk. "I—that's not what I meant by that."

"Of course you did," she said coolly, popping open the trunk to collect her things. "You're not slick, Itadori."

"That's not what I meant," he repeated.

She gathered the bags onto one arm, shutting the trunk, and turned to walk toward the stairwell.

He quickly intercepted.

"Ita –"

He held up his hands quickly. "I – look I – I was caught off guard by what you said last night because I never thought anyone would ever want a – a sort of 'friends with benefits' type of deal with me. You were the last person on Earth I would ever consider wanting me. I was – I was... I was really flattered, Nobara. You made me so nervous, and I really messed up. I don't want this to...be a missed opportunity."

She stared, nonplussed.

He rushed on, as if emboldened, "I would like for this to happen. I don't want it to ruin our friendship by any means, so if it's too weird, or it gets too weird, I'm more than happy to stop. But I'd like to give it a shot if that's okay with you."

She caught her breath, pausing to take it all in. Was he messing with her?

The agonized look on his face was enough, she decided.

"Okay," she simply said.

"Okay?" he asked, voice small.

She shoved her shopping bags into his arms. "Let's go."

She turned on her heel and marched toward the stairs, only the sound of her bags swishing as he walked indicating that was following. She allowed him into her apartment, kicking off her shoes and making her way toward her room. He'd never been in here before. His posture was tense and discomfited, absorbing her décor.

She took the bags from his arms, depositing them on her bathroom counter. She turned to face him from the bathroom doorway, where he stood with his arms closely folded against his chest awkwardly. "You sure about this?"

He nodded quickly, cheeks tinging as he swallowed stiffly.

"Let me freshen up." She shut the bathroom door, and then breathed out shakily, her composure slipping.

Nobara was by no means inexperienced. So why was this making her so nervous?

She relieved herself quickly, and then gathered her hair, just past shoulder-length now, into a small bun. She switched on the shower and set to work rinsing herself off quickly and meticulously. She toweled off, brushed her teeth, and parted the filling of one of the bags to consider the items inside.

She had imagined herself wearing this some other time, by herself, admiring her figure as she turned in front of her wall length mirror.

The thought of Itadori, at the absolute mercy of this outfit, made her reconsider.

She stepped into the panties, and they clung to her hips snugly. She clasped the bra, and her breasts sat high and pretty, a pearl droplet dangling beneath them daintily. She breathed in deeply, and the swells of her breasts were insane. Hypnotic. She could only just pull herself away to work on the stockings, and then pin them to the garter. She spritzed on a rarely used perfume, and unpinned her hair.

She stepped back out slowly, shutting the door firmly behind herself. It was a few long moments before she could lift her eyes to his, raising her chin resolutely.

He'd been in the middle of hanging his jacket on the back of her desk chair, clearly trying to make himself comfortable.

She watched his eyes lock onto her chest, linger for a second, before dropping. Skimming past her midriff, and honing in on something even lower. The panties hardly offered any shred of decency. Itadori's lips parted, and the look in his eyes was beyond desire.

He looked like a starved man finally being offered food.

This more than made up for her bruised ego.

She moved her hands to her hips. "Well?"

He was on her in a second, swallowing her surprised gasp. His hands found her waist, searing hot and absolutely covered in callouses. She bumped into the bathroom door, caged in by him. She wound her arms around his neck, but more as if to brace herself than anything.

His tongue ran across the seam of her lips, and this almost distracted her from the drag of his hand across her spine – and it's culmination stroking her ass.

Her instinct was to snap at him, breaking their kiss and loosening the circle of her arms around his neck. But he moved, in tandem, ducking into her space and pulling her right into him. His arms wrapped around her, and then he was lifting her off the ground. She'd never been particularly heavy, but the ease with which he lifted her still took her breath away.

It called back the memory of that first time, and how it felt as if gravity had completely left her. He placed her on her bed carefully, moving a knee onto the mattress as he leaned over her.

He drank her in, but curiously fixated on the pearl adorning the bra. He rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, and she immediately pictured him doing the same to one of her nipples. The same hand flattened carefully over her abdomen, and he finally looked at her.

"So beautiful," he murmured, leaning down to lay a kiss underneath her jaw. His tongue flickered against her skin briefly, as if he couldn't help stealing a taste, before he took her earlobe between his teeth. She tilted her head to allow him better access, and shuddered as his hands moved across her sides appreciatively. He mouthed along her throat, sucking softly as he went. He pushed an arm underneath her, pulling her toward him as her finally came upon her cleavage.

A yelp escaped her when he suddenly bit down on the fabric covering her left nipple, just hard enough she could just feel the imprint of his teeth through the foam cup. "Yuuji!" she hissed, though she couldn't right away decide if it was out of indignation or embarrassment. The shock of pain, but not quite pain, shot through her body.

"Sorry," he mumbled, and then pulled the cup aside as far as he could without ripping it to draw her nipple into his hot mouth. He lapped and sucked and nibbled her raw, only moving to her other nipple when she began to whine with impatience. Her back would arch if not for his arm, pulling her as close as possible. She wiggled out of his embrace to remove the bra entirely, fearing he was only this close to ripping it off entirely.

This cost her a pretty penny. She wasn't about to eat that cost.

She tossed it somewhere toward her nightstand, immediately distracted by the warmth of his hands cupping her breasts.

"Very fascinated with those, I see," she said around a smug smile.

"Hard not to be," he replied, although he had sense enough to blush coyly. He kissed them each in turn before moving on to her abdomen. She was much more sensitive here, unable to help squirming as his calloused hands caressed her hips. "I'm guessing you're gonna wanna take this off, too."

"I'm not gonna be the only one naked," she said, sitting up. She folded her arms over her chest, honing in on his fixation. "Strip."

He vaulted himself off the bed instantly, doing as she said. He wasn't very graceful about it, stumbling out of his clothes quickly and awkwardly. She carefully undid the clasps and hooks of the garters, but he was there before she could finish undressing. His hands moved to her hips, tugging the panties down her thighs with her help and rolling the stockings off carefully. He kissed along her calf as he yanked one stocking off her foot.

She was distracted by the sight of him momentarily. He was quite a specimen, she had to admit. Broad shoulders, defined muscles, and beautiful golden skin. Her gaze flickered to his erection, the tip of which was already leaking. She was pleased to say he was more than adequate, and she found herself snapping her hand out to wrap around him, squeezing and stroking once toward the head. Her thumb rolled across the tip, smearing. He groaned, and trembled unexpectedly.

Very receptive. Nice to see.

She hooked her other arm around his neck and brought him down for a wet kiss. She continued to stroke him, sliding her tongue into his willing mouth and swallowing his pleading whines. She was surprised by how much his noises were turning her on, a pulsing warmth spreading through her middle in response to him. She was in the middle of chewing on his lower lip when he reached out for her, and she choked on a gasp as his palm suddenly ground against her, the tips of his fingers gliding across her slit carefully. One finger traced between her lips, and he leaned back to look her in the eye.

His had darkened impossibly, his pupils so fat she could hardly make out the color of his irises. His face had become flush, and with his lips an aching red from her teeth, he looked delectable.

And then he lifted the same hand that had been working against her sex to his mouth. His fingertips glistened with her, and his tongue flickered out to taste her.

She didn't even have a chance to react to that. She was suddenly on her back, and she was being dragged to the edge of the bed. His arms were hooked underneath her thighs, directing her to where he wanted her.

"Ita – " she ground out, almost in protest, but it stuttered out as she felt him drag his tongue across her abdomen, from her navel to her ribs. Like he couldn't help it. It made her shudder. "Fuck."

He scattered quick, open-mouthed kisses across her stomach and hips. It spoke of impatience, his hands trembling as he rubbed his palms across her hips, as he squeezed her thighs and pushed her knees back toward her chest. His breath puffed across her, and her mouth opened on a silent gasp. Her core tensing with anticipation.

"I want to taste you," he said, voice rough. She squeezed her eyes shut, but she knew he was looking at her. "Is that okay?"

"Fine," she forced out between her teeth, balling up the sheets in her fists.

He kissed her mound, and then dragged his tongue across her slit. He pushed his tongue between her folds, seeking her clit. Her hips jerked as soon as he found it, right at the apex of her sex, and he pinned her thighs into place as he sucked on her suddenly.

"Ah—ha," she cried out, snapping a hand down to twist her fingers into his hair. She wasn't certain if it was to push him away or bring him in closer. One of his hands disappeared, only to push one long finger inside of her. His tongue flickered against her clit, his head angling as if deepening a kiss, and he added a second finger. He pumped at her steadily, working up to a third finger. "Fuck," she hissed, and then gasped as he slid his tongue inside of her. Sucking and licking and groaning as she whined and yanked at his hair.

She ground her hips into his face, digging her heels into the mattress for leverage. He followed her beat for beat, pumping his fingers into her over and over and working her clit to exhaustion. Something within her continued to twist and tighten, this tension fit to snap at any moment. She could feel herself riding toward it with something that bordered impatience. Her mouth falling open and her heading falling back into the mattress.

"Come for me, Nobara," he begged. "Please."

How cliché, to finish as if on command like that. She felt it shiver through her, the tension finally snapping. She stilled, holding him in place, but he continued his ministrations until she was wiggling away. She throbbed from head to toe, thighs shaking as he released her carefully.

She mumbled in protest when he lifted her again, interrupting her high, but he only corrected her on the bed. Head in the pillows, and him settling between her thighs. Fumbling to open a condom procured from a pocket of his.

"Hey, uh," she said, face red with embarrassment. She almost wished he hadn't heard her, but his head popped up immediately, stopping. "Uh... You can say no to this if you want, but I'm... I prefer to not use condoms."

Alarm crossed his face and she sat up quickly.

"Not to trap you!" she rushed out in defense of herself. "I just. I... I like...how it feels...without it..."

He looked down at the condom, pinched between his fingers precariously. "I've...never done it without it."

"Like I said," she mumbled, unable to look at him. "You can say no."

He considered her for a few long moments, or at least until she finally looked at him.

It was hard to, with her juices still smeared across his face like that.

"Are you...on the pill or something?"

"Yeah."

"Okay..." He gingerly placed the condom on her nightstand, looking bashful. "If you're okay with it."

"If you're okay with it," she corrected.

He nodded quickly, swallowing audibly.

She lied back down, holding her breath as he settled between her thighs again, his arms caging her in beneath him. He looked at her for a second, as if confirming again, and she nodded once. She reached between them first, stroking him a few times before aligning them.

He pressed in, the muscles in his arms tense as he pushed into her by increments. She gasped, feeling him stretch her. He groaned as soon as he bottomed out, and he immediately leaned down to bury his face in her neck. His arms wound around her, and the moment of tenderness she felt – sudden and unexpected, her hands sliding across his back as she returned the hug – shattered as he pulled out and snapped back into her roughly.

He did this several times. In and out and in and out, rasping into her ear as his hips snapped into hers wildly. Nobara squeezed her eyes shut, nails scraping into his back as she struggled to keep her bearings. Her head swam, overwhelmed by how – fucking – good –

"—feels good, you feel so good," he whined.

She moaned, deep and throaty, and it seemed to spur him on. He reached up to grip at her headboard, bracing his weight on his other arm to give him more leverage. He fucked her hard and fast, confident she could take it. She could hear, through their moans, that her bed was squealing in protest. The headboard snapping so hard she couldn't doubt that the neighbors could hear them. She couldn't bring herself to care. His thumb was back on her clit, feathering and stroking as he pounded into her.

"Fuck me," she groaned, flattening a hand against the headboard to brace herself.

He leaned away, took hold of her knees, and pressed them back toward her shoulders. He held her there for a second, thrusting slow and shallow, and then moved her ankles onto his own shoulders. Folding her in half.

He pushed deeper than he had before, and worked their pace back up to frantic. She could feel her own walls clenching around him, and his face was contorted with pleasure, struggling to concentrate.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Yuuji," she ground out, and he breathed out shakily.

He pulled away, and she nearly demanded to know what he thought he was doing, before he was dragging her further down the bed. And flipping her over, pulling her ass up in the air.

"Oh," she started, turning to look at him over the shoulder.

He seemed to have an easier time of finding her entrance this way, for whatever reason. Before she could fully identify what was happening, he was pushing back into her. His hand pressed down on her upper back to pin her there, the other hand gripping her hip as he began to move. He rocked her back against him, using the momentum to deepen his thrusts.

She was too busy enjoying this, how his cock slid snugly against all these sensitive spots, and how his groans hitched and stuttered at the feel of her.

And then he surprised her, again. Never quite stopping his pace, he pulled her up by her elbow. He hooked his arm behind hers, pinning her back against his chest. The angle was strange enough to distract her, but then his other hand moved between her thighs. His fingers rolling across her clit.

"Oh, shit," she whispered, her back arching out of reflex, limited by his body pinned against her. He rolled his hips, flicking in time with his pace. His teeth caught her earlobe, his breath shuddering against her skin.

He stroked her stomach, which caused an unexpected shiver down her spine, and rolled her nipple between his fingers. Trailing back down to her clit and then alternatively repeating the motions. His tongue tasted her throat, and through all this he kept mumbling, "So good, so good, feels so good."

Maybe it was all of it. Maybe it was too much. The abruptness of her orgasm ripped through her until she was crying out again, choking out his name as she struggled to ride it out.

As soon as she slumped back against him, he extracted himself to drag her on her back to the edge of the bed.

"Yuuji," she whined, feeling very much like a rag doll.

"I swear I'm almost done."

He looked incredibly feral. Hair a rat's nest on his head, eyes just this side of crazed. He pulled her hips to the very edge of the bed, and aligned himself with her once more. When he pushed inside again, it was with an aching familiarity. Her thighs fell open to accept him, but she could do little else to really assist him at this point. This was the most she's reached completion in one setting with a partner and she couldn't believe how sapped she felt of energy.

But he was on a mission at this point, and aside from checking in on her to make sure she was okay to keep going, he didn't waste anymore time.

He fucked her hard and slow, his pace steady and determined. She could hear their skin making contact, the sound of him sinking into her wetness over and over. He watched himself enter her, his mouth hanging open as if in a trance. He slid his hand over her lower abdomen, grinding his thumb against her clit in rough circles. Winding her right back up.

Her noises spurred him on, his pace quickening in response to her moans. Finally, his rhythm seemed to be suffering a bit. Faltering as he chased his orgasm. Brow pinched, clutching at her hips as he hurried toward the finish line.

She cupped her own breasts, rolling her nipples, and then moving a hand to her clit to flick at herself.

That was it. Itadori's hips snapped into hers in a broken pattern, watching her. And with a groan, he finally came. He thrust once, twice more, and then he held her close. Spilling his seed deep inside of her.

She could feel the warm thrum of him coming inside, filling her. She moaned, digging her heels against his thighs as if to keep him in place.

He grunted, leaning against the mattress to catch his breath.

After a moment pulled out of her, and she immediately felt the loss.

Then he planted a kiss on her mouth, sweet and reverent.

"I'll get a towel," he murmured. He made a beeline for the bathroom, while Nobara crossed her ankles and waited. He returned with a wet towel, blushing again. "Hey, I'm really sorry, I was a little –"

"No, don't," she said, taking the towel. "Don't apologize. I...enjoyed that."

After walking to the restroom on a pair of very wobbly legs, relieving herself and cleaning up the mess he'd made, Nobara stepped out to find him pulling on his pants.

"You're staying," she said, and then hesitated. "Right?"

"Do you want me to?" he asked. He looked afraid to even hope.

"I... Yeah."

She pulled on some comfy pajamas, and asked if he wanted to order pizza.

He smiled, relief coloring his features. "I would love nothing more."

.x.