Mouth

The flickering light of the television cast long, shifting shadows across the small living room. On the screen, a classic action movie played at a low volume, the explosions and hushed dialogue serving as mere background noise to the quiet atmosphere of the apartment. Yuji Itadori sat on the edge of the sofa, his posture relaxed but his mind clearly drifting away from the plot.

Angel sat on the floor between his knees. Her long, wavy hair cascaded down her back, catching the blue light of the screen. They had been dating for several months, a period defined by a steady escalation of physical proximity and mutual comfort. For Yuji, being near her was a grounding force amidst the chaos of his life as a jujutsu sorcerer.

The warmth of his legs against her shoulders was a constant, solid presence. Angel leaned her head back against the cushion between his thighs, looking up at him. Yuji looked down, a small, tired smile touching his lips. He reached out, his large hand resting gently on her head, his fingers tracing the waves of her hair.

"You're not even watching the movie," Yuji murmured, his voice low and raspy.

"Neither are you," Angel replied.

She turned around slowly, shifting her weight so she was kneeling between his legs, facing him. The change in position caused Yuji’s breath to hitch slightly. He shifted his weight, his knees widening to accommodate her. Angel reached out, her palms resting flat against the denim of his jeans, feeling the heat of his skin beneath the fabric.

She began to press slow, deliberate kisses to the inner part of his thigh. Yuji’s hands moved from her hair to the back of the sofa, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the fabric. The friction of her lips against the rough texture of his pants was a sharp contrast to the softness of her touch.

"Angel," he breathed, his voice tightening.

She ignored the verbal protest, her focus narrowing. She traced the line of his inseam with her lips, moving upward with a slow, agonizing patience. When she reached the fly of his trousers, she paused, looking up at him through her lashes. Yuji was leaning back now, his chest rising and falling in shallow, quick rhythmic patterns.

Angel reached for the zipper. The metallic sound of it sliding down seemed amplified in the quiet room. She eased the fabric aside, exposing him to the cool air of the room before replacing that chill with the heat of her touch. She leaned forward, her tongue darting out to taste the length of him.

Yuji let out a choked sound, his head falling back against the top of the sofa. "Wait, are you sure?"

Angel didn't answer with words. She leaned in closer, her hair veiling her face as she took him into her mouth. The sensation was immediate and overwhelming for Yuji. He had spent his life in high-intensity situations, facing curses and death, but this was a different kind of sensory overload.

She moved with a rhythmic grace, her tongue swirling around the head before sliding down the length. She was thorough, her hands reaching down to cup him, her thumbs tracing circles against his skin. She explored every inch, her mouth warm and wet, creating a vacuum that made Yuji’s toes curl against the carpet.

"God, Angel," Yuji groaned, his eyes clamped shut.

He tried to keep his hands to himself, not wanting to push her or rush the moment, but eventually, his instincts took over. His fingers found their way back to her hair, not pulling, but guiding her movements as she took more of him inside. She was determined, fitting as much as she could, her throat working as she swallowed.

The movie on the screen reached a climax, a cacophony of orchestral swells and sound effects that mirrored the rising tension in the room. Yuji’s hips bucked instinctively, his breath coming in sharp, jagged gasps. He felt the pressure building, a coil of energy tightening in his gut that had nothing to do with cursed energy and everything to do with the woman kneeling before him.

"I'm... I'm close," he warned, his voice straining.

Angel didn't pull away. Instead, she increased the pace, her hands tightening their grip on his thighs. She looked up at him, her eyes dark and focused, silently encouraging him to lose control.

Yuji surrendered. He called out her name as he peaked, his body trembling with the force of the release. He stayed there for a long moment, his chest heaving, his hands tangled in her hair as she stayed with him, ensuring he felt every sensation until the very end.

When she finally pulled back, she swallowed, a stray drop of moisture glistening on her lip. She wiped it away with the back of her hand, looking remarkably composed compared to the wrecked state Yuji was in.

Yuji stared at her, his heart still hammering against his ribs. "That was... I didn't expect that."

"I wanted to," she said simply.

In the weeks that followed, the dynamic between them shifted. The initial barrier had been broken, and with it, a new craving had been awakened in Yuji. The memory of her looking up at him, her mouth occupied and her eyes fixed on his, became a recurring thought that he couldn't shake.

It happened again a few days later in the training hall. The facility was empty, the sun setting and casting long orange streaks across the wooden floor. They had finished a light sparring session, and Angel was sitting on a bench, wiping sweat from her forehead.

Yuji approached her, his steps heavy. He didn't say anything at first, just stood over her, his shadow enveloping her.

"Again?" he asked.

It wasn't a question about training. Angel looked up, seeing the dark intensity in his amber eyes. She stood up, her hand reaching out to grab the hem of his damp shirt.

"Here?" she whispered.

"No one is coming back tonight," Yuji replied.

He sat on the bench and pulled her toward him. This time, there was less hesitation. The gentleness of the first time was replaced by a burgeoning hunger. Yuji found himself wanting to take more control, his hands moving to the back of her head almost immediately.

He discovered a specific thrill in the power dynamic of the act. He liked the way her small frame looked positioned between his legs, the way her long hair fell over his thighs. He began to experiment with the depth, his hands firm as he guided her, pushing her slightly further than she had gone before.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice low, even as he applied a steady pressure.

Angel nodded, her eyes watering slightly but her grip on his knees never wavering. She took the challenge, adjusting her jaw to accommodate him.

Yuji became obsessed with the visual. He loved the way her cheeks hollowed, the sound of her muffled gasps, and the way she had to look up at him to maintain the connection. It became a ritual. Whether they were in his dorm room, her apartment, or a secluded corner of the school grounds, the request was often the same.

"Angel, please," he would say, his voice dropping an octave.

He grew bolder. He liked to set her on the edge of a bed or a desk, standing over her so she had no choice but to tilt her head back at an extreme angle. He liked the feeling of her hands trying to find purchase on his hips as he dictated the pace.

One evening, back in his room, Yuji had her backed against the door. He had his hands braced on either side of her head, his face inches from hers.

"I can't stop thinking about it," he admitted, his forehead resting against hers. "Every time I see you, I just want to feel you like that."

Angel reached up, her fingers tracing the scars under his eyes. "Then show me."

He slid down the door until he was sitting on the floor, pulling her down with him. He didn't want the slow build-up this time. He unfastened his belt with a sense of urgency that bordered on desperation.

As she leaned in, Yuji took a deep breath, his hands immediately finding their place in her hair. He began to move his hips, a steady, driving rhythm that forced her to work to keep up. He watched her closely, reaching down to tilt her chin up so he could see her face.

"Look at me," he commanded softly.

She obeyed, her eyes wide and shimmering. The sight of her, completely devoted to his pleasure, sent a jolt through his system. He pushed deeper, testing her limits, his breath hitching when he felt her throat constrict around him.

He was becoming addicted to the vulnerability of the position. Yuji was used to being the one who protected, the one who bore the brunt of the physical burden. But in these moments, he was the one in control, and she was the one yielding.

As he neared the end, his movements became more frantic. He held her head firmly, his thumbs stroking her cheeks as he drove himself into her mouth. He let out a low growl, his eyes losing focus as the world narrowed down to the sensation of her.

When he finished, he slumped against the door, his legs splayed out. Angel stayed where she was for a moment, resting her forehead against his knee as she recovered her breath.

Yuji reached down, lifting her up so she could sit in his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her small body flush against his chest. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent of her shampoo mixed with the musk of their intimacy.

"I think I'm ruined," he joked lightly, though there was an edge of truth to it.

"You're just greedy," Angel retorted, her voice slightly hoarse.

"Maybe," Yuji conceded. He pulled back just enough to look at her, his expression softening. "But only for you."

He kissed her then, a slow, deep kiss that tasted of salt and surrender. The movie nights and quiet dinners continued, but there was a new undercurrent to their relationship—a shared secret of obsession and the constant, unspoken request that always lingered in the space between them. For Yuji, the threshold had been crossed, and there was no going back.