Light pours through sheer, maroon curtains as you open your eyes. The foreign house might startle you if you hadn't drunk twice your body weight in booze the evening prior.

Instead, you can only focus on aching muscles and a churning stomach. You groan and turn onto your left side. That's better for an upset stomach, right? You're sure you've read an article about it somewhere. Something about keeping the stomach above the esophagus to reduce acid.

When you don't worry about hurling all over the blankets, you finally crack your eyes open to find a glass of water sitting on the dark nightstand beside you.

Wait.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty." Sukuna's voice pulls a whimper from your lips. "Didn't think I'd have that effect on you so early this morning."

The world tilts off its axis, your brain starts regenerating the cells it lost and suddenly, you remember.

You remember the piss poor day you'd had at work, the wobbling scenery of the bar as you downed your sixth drink, and the way you'd looked up at Sukuna last night, eyes burning with need.

Oh God.

You hop out of the warm bed and scramble to the doorway, looking at Sukuna's smug smolder as he reclines on his elbow. Your mouth hangs open and your face flushes while your tummy turns, only it has less to do with the alcohol this time and more to do with the way the blankets hug his bare chest.

How did you let yourself get this close with someone so entirely out of your league?

"I-I'm really sorry." You squeak out, running your fingers through your hair and clutching the T-shirt hanging off your body. T-shirt? A vague memory of Sukuna handing you an old college tee flutters in your head, but the image of you on your knees in front of him follows shortly after. How embarrassing. God, I really did that. "I didn't mean to bother you. I must have been a mess last night."

"On the contrary, I'd say you're more flustered and messy this morning than you were last night. Confidence dresses you up nicely." Sukuna sits up and pads in your direction, sunlight painting his bare chest and highlighting his tenebrous tattoos. "I believe I recall you saying you enjoyed my company, even."

"I do!" You blurt, before forcing your gaze to your toes. "I mean, uh, I do like your company. I just meant…I'm sorry for, um, the other stuff."

"You mean the brazen flirting? I must say, darling, you were very tempting on your knees." He continues relentlessly.

He's making fun of you. It's warranted, sure, but being an object of ridicule while also fighting nausea from last night's margarita marathon serves only to sicken your stomach further. You tilt your head until you're shielded by your hair, nervously picking a scab on your forearm.

"Y-Yeah…for that. Sorry."

"Don't apologize. I quite enjoyed it."

Awkward silence shackles you. You feel the need to say something, anything that might fix what happened last night. Yesterday morning you and Sukuna were companionable friends full of banter. Now? Does he expect you to carry on that way? Or has your ostentatious display changed things? Does he want you for a night, or a lifetime?

You're hoping for the latter.

"Would you rather I go?" You peek up at him, expecting him to walk right by you and snort out that this is all a joke.

He doesn't. You are face-to-chest with him, his height making him tower over you like a giant, yes. You fail to keep your eyes from drinking in the tattoos contouring his chest.

"Why would I want you to leave, princess?" He asks, tilting your chin up to him. "Am I really so frightening that you can't look at me?"

"You're only intimidating because you're entirely out of my league." You speak but are held captive by the red sea of his eyes. "I'm pretty sure you'd be better off dating a chicken nugget."

Sukuna laughs. His rich, deep tone electrifies the air until he's touching your cheek. Against your better judgment, you lean into his warmth.

Are you dreaming, or does his other hand skirt your waist?

"A chicken nugget, huh? Might satisfy my hunger, but not the hunger I'm interested in satiating right now." Confident and sure as he always is, he doesn't hide it when he stares at your lips. "You know what I think, darling?"

"What?" You match his energy, body buzzing with want as you lean closer to him.

His hand grips yours. Every inch you move closer is somehow too far away until your noses brush.

"I think now would be a good time to choose whether or not you want me as much as you did last night." He purrs, slipping his fingers under the hem of your shorts. "And if it's as much as I want you right now."

You thought the brief kiss last night had been enough to upend your world, enough to mend you together after the stressful work day. It is nothing compared to now. It is nothing compared to the way he pulls you forward, claims your lips, and spawns entire galaxies into existence behind your eyelids.

In an instant, everything you've ever wanted feels attainable. You could be an astronaut, a world-famous singer, a pro-athlete, or even an award-winning actress because so long as Sukuna is here with you the world is yours for the taking.

You could be a queen.

You're not sure when your fingers ended up in his hair or when his large hands snuck under your shirt, but in another moment he's guiding you back to bed and tugs your legs around his waist.

"'Kuna," You breathe, suddenly afraid and turning your face away. "I've never–"

"So you've said before," He coos, kissing under your jaw and rubbing his thumb along the hollow of your throat. "It's okay. Let me take care of you, princess."

You let him.

And he takes care of every sacred crevice of your body as the morning passes in a blur of whispered moans and desperate pleas. By the time noon arrives, your limbs lay tangled in a web of restful intimacy. Every deep desire for the man wrapped around you is fulfilled and has been replaced by more emotional needs – you want to be his, to be held, to be loved and adored.

"You look like my own personal angel, so gorgeous and glowing." Sukuna rumbles against your neck. "Aren't you glad you're sober enough to remember this?"

"Mhmm…" You hum in agreement. "You're perfect."

A chuckle as warm and smooth as hot chocolate drips from his lips, his eyes glistening with amusement. With little effort, you memorize the security of his presence and cling to it for dear life.

"Perfect, huh? Perfect enough to keep around for a while?"

"Keep?" You dare to hope.

"Well, at least until my shift starts at five." He rumbles in your ear.

The illusion shatters around you; your fingers grip his hair taut to hold onto the facade he's promised to grant you until five.

"Then, I'll definitely keep you until five."

"And after his shift ends at one, he's all mine." An unfamiliar voice oozes like honey into the room sticking to every surface, coating you in a residue of dirty guilt and shame.

You don't know when the key turned in the lock or how the tall woman in front of you made it in Sukuna's house without either of you hearing, but cold dread leaks down your spine as you squirm under the covers to hide.

"You didn't tell me you were having guests over, Sukuna." She strolls over to his bed like she owns the place.

Without bothering to listen to the rest of the conversation, you scamper out of the bed to collect your clothes and shut yourself into Sukuna's bathroom. Adrenaline guides your limbs to move and wiggle yourself back into your formal, now wrinkled, work attire.

It takes at least five minutes of staring at the hickeys bruising your neck in the mirror for the tears to fall and the voices outside to amplify. The bite in Sukuna's tone cuts you even though it's directed at his mystery girl.

God, you wish you'd just screwed him while you were drunk. At least then, the excuse of alcohol drowning your judgment would be a mercy. Instead, this morning floats through your mind as if in a dream straight from heaven, just at the edge of reality before it squeezes through your fingers.

Why did you ever think he'd love you – that he'd want anything from you aside from your virginity? The dancing image of his arm draped around your shoulder in public while whispering sweet nothings in your ear had been so alluring.

It had almost seemed possible when he held you in his arms.

A knock at the door wrenches you from your failure, reminding you to wipe your face and take a deep breath.

You peek out to find Sukuna, his arms crossed and jaw set.

"You should probably go. You don't need to see this. I'm sorry."

Unable to muster the courage to speak, you just nod with a smile so fake it should be charged by law as a counterfeit. You pick up your things and only pause when you reach the door because Sukuna calls you again.

"Yin, I'll see you next week at the bar, right?"

"Yes. I'll see you later, Sukuna." You force out, and click the door closed behind you.

It's a lie and you know it.