𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝.
❝ in which you piece together the fragments of your past...
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"Fuck, yer body is so perfect, Y/N. So perfect..."
You slapped your own cheek in horror.
Why the hell were you thinking about last night?
"Come on, Y/N. Get your shit together." You hissed to yourself, folding a T-shirt into a square as your mind flitted over the lewd recollections of yesterday night.
Miya Atsumu.
The image of him forcing you into your fourth orgasm seared itself into your memory. The way his face flushed with pride from admiring the contortions of your subservient body under his, savouring the high-pitched whimpers seeping past your lips.
You couldn't even remember when exactly you fell asleep. It was probably after he rammed mercilessly into your walls to reach his own peak, his moans of adoration drilling themselves into your brain, before he forced you to open your mouth and swallow every drop of his essence.
He had stayed over in your room after that. You wanted to let him keep sleeping when you roused in the early morning, but you forced him back upstairs (much to his displeasure). You didn't want to make any of the other Inarizaki boys suspicious if they caught him leaving your room. Thankfully, they were all still asleep when you unceremoniously kicked Atsumu out.
You cursed to yourself, ripping open a new box of toothpaste to stash into the opened backpack by your feet.
Now wasn't the time to contemplate your sex life. It was good, downright spectacular if you really want to be honest with yourself. But you had other things to focus on.
