Satoru is clingy as fuck, and even Suguru loves to hug you, pick you up and twirl you. Satoru would jump up and somehow cling to your body, wrapping all around you and weighing nothing. He’d just sort of float with his wings fluttering as he wrapped around you like a little monkey, Suguru would float right next to you, and people would look at you when you talked to them.

You tried not to speak to them in public, as to not seem like a complete psycho, but they were hard to ignore.

They each made it their life’s goal to get your attention – Satoru is a very, very needy Fairy, and Suguru isn’t much better. They always get mad when you ignore them or try to have any sort of life away from them, and somehow you always end up back at your place after a night out. They have no issue taking you from any party, date or get together, even now that you’re grown.

Tonight they’ve done it again, you were at a little get together earlier and they drove you so insane you’d been seen yelling at the air. Your friends were kind of used to it, but your Fairy Godparents were even jealous of them, they are toxic, yandere little fairies really. Only you would get stuck with the craziest ones.

Now, if they could do anything for the way your nipples pebble out, how your tummy clenches and your core aches, or help with your constantly soaking wet cunt? Well then maybe you’d be okay. But no, what could you even do, but wait till they give you a few moments of peace and use your wand until the damn thing dies, still utterly unfulfilled.

This can’t continue.

“Hey guys,” Satoru pauses his flying in little circles – he does that when he’s fidgety, Suguru looks up from the book he’s reading, sitting over at your window seat and taking over the entirety of it, a usual friday night for you. 

“Yes?”

“I think I have a wish.”

“Let me guess,” Suguru teases with a far too sexy little smile, leaning back just a bit against the wall. “You wish for a lifesize cutout of that sorcerer you’re obsessed with?”

“No! I mean… yeah but… oh!” There it is, a cut out that poofed out of thin air, Satoru chuckles and wraps his lanky body around it, even the damn cardboard isn’t creaking under his weight with how he can hold it up. “That’s huge.”

“Bigger than me!?” Satoru flies down and stands next to it, straightening it back out, making you laugh softly.

“Maybe you’re bigger.”

“I am! Was that really your wish though?” Satoru asks, you look at both of them then, taking a breath and shutting your eyes.

It’s well past time to rip off the band aid.

“I wish for a boyfriend,” Satoru and Suguru glare, their wings stopping their usual fluttering, flying over so they’re right on either side of you. “What?”

“You wish for what now!?” Fairy godparent Satrou thwacks your head with his pretty blue wand, the star smattering his glitter everywhere, you cough as some of it – blueberry scented – hits your throat..

You wince and rub your head as a bump forms. “Ouch!”

“We must simply not have heard you right,” Suguru says now, stepping in front of you with his long, tapered fairy wings fluttering pretty purple glitter. “You didn’t say you wanted a boyfriend as a wish, did you?”

“Well Valentine’s day is coming,” You sigh and slump back in your chair, leaning back and frowning up at them. “It’s a love holiday?”

“We know, that’s why we show our love!” Satoru scoffs at you. “Don’t you remember us summoning a whole room full of chocolates for you last year?”

“I didn’t need all that…”

“What about all the plushies?” Suguru’s angry now too, you sigh, shaking your head. “What do we need to get you this year? We can buy all the roses there are!”

“I don’t need that… it’s not…” You pinch the bridge of your nose, sitting on the edge of your bed now. “Surely you all understand a girl has needs.”

“Needs?” Satoru’s wings are fluttering his pretty blue glitter, crossing his arms and tilting his head. “We give you everything you need.”

“I need things that you all can’t give me,” you blush now, eyeing the two handsome fairies that no one can see but you. “Do you get it?”

At first you thought you were fucking insane, conjuring the two of them up due to some break down. You’d test it out, wishing for the most random shit – emerald hair, bam! Your hair turned the perfect shade of it, no dye or bleaching needed. Wishing for the newest Gucci bag, whoosh it was there! Soon you were asking for the dumbest things – all the figures from your favorite anime, everyone couldn’t figure out just how you got the limited collection.

There were certain rules – you couldn’t just wish for anything that would affect other people, certain things had consequences, but Satoru was always down for the batshit crazy wishes, with Suguru having to fix your messes. Admonishing you both when he had to wipe the memories of everyone around you, sometimes things had more repercussions than you thought.

"Excuse me?” Satoru's wings start flapping again, but it's more like an agitated buzzing, he’s floating and his head hits your ceiling like it usually does, arms crossed. "We give you everything, you brat!”

“You’re calling me a brat!?”

“Yes, you are a brat,” Suguru rubs the back of his neck when you glare at Satoru. He can’t help his friend being just…

An idiot.

“Your favorite boba tea, all the clothes you could ever want, that weird sorcerer figure you wanted!"

“He’s naked too,” Suguru chimes in, you giggle and look over at your prized figure, biting your thumb and admiring his abs. “You are such a spoiled girl.”

“Extremely spoiled!”

You cross your arms now. “I didn’t ask you all to! Not my fault you’re assigned to me,” you trail off then. “Like I said, I need things that you all can't give me."

Suguru and Satoru exchange a wide-eyed, panicked glance. “One moment, mmkay?” Satoru says, they disappear and you blink curiously.

“We can’t just let her have a boyfriend!” Satoru’s flapping his lanky ass arms. “Sugu, no way, I can’t deal with that.”

“I know, you think I wanna see her with someone,” he grimaces, wiping a hand on his face. “It’s bad enough constantly scaring all the men that come near her, god it’s been years of this now.”

“I know… What needs!? Sugu, what needs is she on about?”

“Maybe…” Suguru blushes furiously now. “Oh.”

“Oh, what?”

“She needs…” They both look at each other, but Gojo is just blinking. “Satoru you don’t know…”

“Know what?”

“About how women…” Satoru just blinks his snowy white lashes, Suguru sighs, not wanting to have to explain his own limited knowledge to his utterly clueless friend right now.

“Women what? You mean like how she has that naked sorcerer?”

“Yeah sort of,” he trails off. “Shit it’s probably been a while, let’s go back before she’s asleep.”

The two tall fairies are popping back in your room now, poofing out of nowhere as they do when you’re already under your blankets, having vibrated your clit underneath your shorts. The thing falls from your hand as you instinctively start screaming out at the intrusion, and they scream back, as if frightened by you.

Dear god.

“What the fuck, do you all ever give me notice!? It’s been almost an hour!”

Things work differently in the Fairy realm – Satoru and Suguru realize it’s already nighttime by the moonlight filtering in through your window, when they hear buzzing going off, the two of them stare down at your bed.

“Something’s wrong!” Suguru’s worried, and you wanna fall into an abyss to avoid these fucking looks they’re giving, waving their lanky arms all around.

“What’s hurting you!?” Satoru’s panicked voice just makes you more mortified.

“N-nothing is – oh my god go!” Too late, your vibrator is snatched up by Fairy Satoru, who stares at it curiously, before looking down at your thighs, pressed together with slick dripping down. “Get out I swear to god, please go.”

“You’re… are you… what’s…” He presses the button and hums a bit. “It’s soaking wet, are these your tears?”

“No!? Oh god kill me,” you curl up in a ball, grimacing now as the white haired fairy has your damn cunt all over his fingers.

Long fingers.

UGH. 

“Satoru I think that might be…” Suguru has sort of heard of that – sex, pleasure, but as Fairies things don’t really work that way. Some of their Fairy friends – especially Fairy Toji – indulged in the pleasures of women, but Satoru and Suguru were not experienced, you were their first assignment!

But…

That’s your juices slicked all over the vibrator.

“It’s not salty at all,” Satoru sucks it on his finger, and your mouth drops. “Mmm, your tears are actually sweet pookie!”

You want to get swallowed into a fucking hole.

“It’s her…” Suguru is bright red now, clearing his throat as Satoru just tilts his head curiously. “Her uh… that’s a toy I think.”

“Toys, I got you so many plushies! And POPS and figures!” Satoru admonishes you, pressing at your button now over and over and making it higher, much to your mortification. “Why won’t this weird pink toy stop making noise?”

“It’s a…” Suguru trails off and you sigh.

“It’s my vibrator, okay?”

“It’s a what now!?”

“Just get out you two, god you know I do need some privacy!” You stand and give your fairy godparents far too nice of a view of your thighs. “Don’t make me say it.”

“No, no,” Satoru hands you the vibrator that is still fucking going wild in his huge ass hand, pouting all cute. “We’ll try to find you a boyfriend but you know the rules. We can’t make him fall in love.”

“That’s cupid’s area,” Suguru says, his gaze flitting across your body, you’re half naked all the time around them, as if you didn’t realize what it did to them.

Satoru’s throat goes dry, gaze slipping down your body with Suguru, amethyst and sapphire eyes making you burn with the attention. For the longest time, you wanted more with them, to touch them, have them touch you, it’s the damn reason you want a boyfriend – to forget that they can never really be yours.

They’re immortal fairies – or at least they age very slowly, you’re not a hundred percent sure how that all works for them. Yet you’re a human, surely once you got past your thirties – and you were already almost in your mid twenties – you’d already be way older than them physically. How would that ever work? And that’s assuming either of these two look at you that way. 

“Just let me get to sleep,” you frustratedly lay back and sigh, covering yourself up with a blanket. “Out you two!”

“Fine, hurt our feelings!”

“Satoru…” Suguru leans down over you and brushes your hair back, you can’t help but swallow nervously, his purple fairy dust is all over and has an intoxicating effect on you. “Are you really sure about this, Princess?”

You nod, earning his sign, two lines between his dark brows you move to smooth out. “It will mean I’ll need you all less, isn’t that good?”

“You think we want that?” Satoru flies over you, bashing his head on the ceiling and wincing. “Damn it…”

“Calm down and just come here,” he hovers over you, and you press a kiss on his cheek, then turn and press one on Suguru’s cheek, feeling their warmth, fairies run extra hot. “I know I’m a needy mortal.”

“We love that about you though,” Suguru’s words have you heated up. “We want to take care of all your needs.”

“Even the weird shaky toy,” you giggle at Satoru’s cuteness. “I’m serious, I can hum too! Look!” Satoru’s flickering his tongue and damn near ruins you.

“Oh god…” You brush his hair back, wishing for a moment he’d get it, god it wouldn’t take anything but them to say the word, and you’d give up any hope of a human existence.

Spread your thighs and let Satoru try to replicate ‘your toy’ that you literally only need because of them, the temptation literally fluttering over you. Suguru seems to get it a little more, but Satoru’s so fucking precious it hurts.

“You two must be tired of all I ask for, though, right?”

“Nope, not at all,” Satoru says. “Why would we ever be.”

“We love giving you your wishes,” Suguru says softly. “You think we don’t?”

“You really do?” You get a little emotional, Satoru swipes away that lone little tear.

“Yes, we can at least see what we can do on the boyfriend,” Suguru has Satoru furious. “We will if it’s her wish, right Satoru?”’

“It’s not acceptable!”

“Satoru…” You pout all cute, melting him as usual.

What a cruel little human, to look that adorable as she singlehandedly breaks Satoru the fairy’s heart. He knows Suguru is upset too, even if he holds his composure a little better. For now he nuzzles your nose, achingly close to trying the kiss thing he’s seen in the movies with you, but he holds back a bit, tilting his lips up instead,

“Whatever you want,” Satoru smooches your forehead with a soft smack of his lips, your lashes flutter shut at the sweet press. “Good night, spoiled brat.”

“Night Toru,” Suguru kisses your cheek, you ache at their sweetness. “Good night Sugu.”

Your fairy godparents disappear in a puff of sparkles and glitter, leaving you to snatch back up your vibrator the moment the coast is clear, whining out in frustration as it takes even longer to reach than usual. You may or may not picture two fairies on your clit instead of your toy.

*****

Date number one

This date is sweet, he’s got these soft hazel eyes, a gentleman by all accounts of the word. He’d been just ever so ‘compelled’ to ask you out for a date. In Satoru and Suguru’s opinion he was a little too perfect, they watched him while glaring, arms crossed floating in the corner of the restaurant. When he brushes your hair back Satoru’s wings flutter so quickly the entire room gets slightly fucked up off his fairy dust.

“Satoru,” Suguru admonishes, but he hates it too, he's just a little better at hiding it than his friend. “This is what she asked for.”

“Doesn’t mean she’s right. I know what’s best for her-”

You hear them and turn, glaring.

Satoru wiggles his fingers and grins like the little psycho he is. “Do you like anime?”

“Oh,” you look at the man now, smiling brightly. “How’d you know!”

“They’re all over your purse,” you giggle at that.

“I do, do you like it too?”

“Great they’re fucking bonding,” Satoru’s devastated, leaned back against the wall, summoning a giant boba tea and wrapping his lips around the straw, sucking the little bubbles into his mouth. “God I’m gonna be sick.”

“You don’t have to be here,” Suguru’s words just piss Satoru off more, snowy lashes lowering as he glares at his sometimes best friend. “You’re the one who didn’t even know what a vibrator was.”

“I still don’t know what a vy-bray-tor is!?” Suguru snorts. “What, we’re not exactly getting pussy in the fairy realm!”

“Satoru shush.”

“They can’t hear us!”

“She can!?” You’re scowling again, they grin and wave.

“What anime do you watch?” You ask your date, trying to focus –  you can’t live your entire life a hopeless damn virgin who can’t even masturbate in peace, pining for fairies at your grown ass age.

Like would they watch you fuck too!? The thought of that makes you panic, they already were not even able to not pop in when you showered and carry on a damn conversation like any of this was normal. You barely focus on what your date is saying when you hear Suguru explaining a ‘vi-bray-tor’ and Satoru arguing that his mouth can vibrate better.

Is he trying to ruin you!?

“I love that robot one,” your date says, you blink curiously.

“What robot one?”

“You know… the robots…” He trails off and you hear Satoru humming then, standing up quickly.

“Excuse me just a moment!”

“Oh, sure…”

You’re walking out and scowling at the two fairies as you rush past to the girls bathroom, of course they appear as you’re washing your hands, you jolt – you think that it’d be less of a surprise when they poof out of thin air, but it always jump scares you. Satoru and Suguru’s reflections in the mirror and all you can think of is how tall they are, how perfect.

You swallow nervously before glaring at their reflection.

“This is a ladies room y’know.”

“We see you’re bored,” Satoru flits over and sits on the counter, Suguru is right on the other side of the sink, the two of them smirking down at you. “So bored, y’know ya wanna come home already.”

“We can do so much at home,” Suguru practically purrs those fucking words, you sigh and roll your eyes, going to grab a napkin and getting your wrist gripped by Satoru’s big hand, water droplets falling just a bit.

“Toru,” you swallow nervously when he leans forward, his lips just an inch away, tilting your chin up with his other hand.

“You know he doesn’t like what you do, he’s acting as if he does, we are the ones who you geek out to,” Satoru’s voice about breaks your resolve.

It would be so easy to let it happen, to just forget about having some sort of life – let it only be them until they move on. Yet the fear of it all hits you all over again, making you gently tug your chin away from him. Satoru’s eyes narrow at you, and you can feel Suguru’s gaze, overwhelming.

“You’re not human and I am though,” they frown as you tug your hand out of his hold, lips trembling just a bit. “I need to go back to the date.”

You rush out, leaving the two fairies even more confused at what their human is going through.

*****

Satoru and Suguru left right after that, you get emotional just thinking of it – how badly you wish that they were human, so you could feel all the things you do without it being an utterly hopeless endeavor. Yet you must try – so you enjoy the company of the handsome man they’ve sent, and soon you’re both at your house, the coolness of the night making you shiver.

You wrap your arms around yourself a bit, hands running up and down your shoulders and arms to stay warm, smiling up at your date.

“I had a great time,” you curse yourself for being awkward, but it’s not like you really have any experience of which to run off of. “Um, really great!”

“I had a great time too,” he leans down as you both stand in the front door, cupping your face. You’ve hardly even had kisses with your cockblock – pussy block!? – fairies around you all the time, so you get just a little nervous. “Should we do this again?”

“I’d like that,” you smile and your eyes shut, letting his lips press yours when suddenly an insane gust of wind starts blowing. Santa Ana level winds that are poofing your damn skirt up and whip your headband right out of your hair. “Oh gosh! I don’t know what…”

You narrow your eyes and peer behind him then.

Satoru Fairy fucking Gojo grinning like a little psycho and moving his long ass fingers in swirling motions. Suguru is a damn enabler, he acts like he’s not actively laughing at your date’s glasses and tie half blown off, sobering and admonishing Satoru until he stops it.

“Shit, the wind,” your date tries to right himself, blinking dry eyes as you adjust your dress carefully. “I’ll call you?”

“Yes, of course,” he looks around rather confused at the now completely still night air that’s surrounding you all, before hopping right in his car and driving off. “You two, get in now!”

They look at each other and curse in fairy language. 

“I said, now!”

“Fine! You’re so bossy!” Satoru flies in first, Suguru after, trying to act all innocent as if you’ll buy it.

“I told him not to, princess.”

“You were laughing, I saw,” you sigh and take off your shoes, glaring at Suguru, who pouts all cute like he’s innocent. “You’re just as bad as Satoru.”

You pull up your phone then and sigh.

“Oh…”

“What?” Satoru frowns and flies up to you, leaving a little trail of glitter in the dark of the living room.

“He asked for nudes.” Your eyes shut. “God, men.”

“See!? It’s what we were warning you of, protect you! But no.”

“Satoru,” you stop him when he goes to follow you towards the bathroom. “Can I please have a bit of privacy?”

“You’re not taking nudes are you?” Suguru demands, his eyes narrowing, you snort and shake your head.

“Nudes like… naked? We see you naked!”

“Can you not?” Satoru and Suguru frown. “I need another date, okay? This one isn’t gonna work.”

“Why do you need a boyfriend?” Satoru’s flying up to you, tilting your chin up and fucking your mind up more than usual – your cocktail of pills never seemed to work well enough to keep the filthy thoughts you have of their lips on you away.

“I told you I have needs, you all can’t be looking after me forever.”

“Why not?” Suguru’s standing in front of you now too, jerking your chin to face him instead, fuck is his hair silkier!? “We want to.”

“What about when I’m all old and shit?”

“Think we care?” You tremble as they get closer, Satoru leans low, his lips brushing against your ear, a hand on your waist. “We’ll take you back to our realm-”

“We can’t! The rules…” Satoru chuckles just a bit. “I can’t just leave everything, and you’d both be stripped of your crowns.”

“We could figure it out,” Suguru and Satoru are filling your already muddled mind with far too much nonsense.

“I’m a human, okay? That world isn’t for me…” Your hands grip each of their shirts, their cute little polos and ties they always wear, for a moment wondering just how good they look with them off.

With their ties wrapped around your wrists-

“I have to have privacy,” you kiss their cheeks quickly, just that alone ruining your resolve.

“I’ll go get you xanax!”

“You’ll take it,” you glare at Satoru but he holds up two fingers.

“I won’t!”

“I’ll run you a bath princess, hmm?” Suguru says softly.

“You’re buttering me up, I still want another date. Four days till Valentine's, I expect four dates.”

“Brat-”

“Satoru!”

Satoru glares at you and flies off. “I’ll take your xans.”

“You are the most annoying fairy!”

“I’m a FAIRY KING!”

“You’re a Prince at best,” Suguru corrects, earning Satoru’s scoff.

“I have to binge eat all your ice cream to feel better too!” Satoru flings a bunch of glitter and flies off, leaving you alone with Suguru, you laugh a bit but he’s very serious with how he studies you.

“You can’t agree with him?”

“He’s right, you live to hurt us,” he slips his hands in his pockets, hair falling across his shoulder. “We had to watch that painfully awkward date, meanwhile I had to instruct Satoru about vibrators.”

“Speaking of,” you shift a bit, biting down on your lower lip, Suguru raises a brow. “You seem to know things, do fairies…”

“Have sex?” You nod. “They do but it’s a little more practical there, procreation from the top families, and Satoru and I aren’t old enough even though we are rather old in comparison to you. Yet some fairies…”

“Some Fairies?”

Suguru grimaces. “They have fairy orgies.”

“Oooh,” your giggle makes him glare. “What? Sounds hot.”

“I’ll never take you to one,” Suguru flies you toward the wall until your back hits it, leaning down. “You don’t wanna know the fairies that go.”

“Bet it’s fairy toji,” Suguru’s scowl deepens, the fluttering of his wings turning into a soft buzzing with his irritation. “He’s kinda hot.”

“If it wasn’t against the rules to beat your backside I would,” you get far too excited by that idea.

“Sugu, do you ever um… want to… hook up with fairies?” Suguru shakes his head, opening his mouth to say it.

You’re the only one he’s ever thought such things for.

“Never anyone?” Your lips are too close, you can taste the sweetness of his breath ghosting across your lips, his own parted ever so slightly. “Are you both fairy virgins?”

“Are you one?” You look down and blush.

“Because you all yes, this is why I want… I can’t just have sex, okay? If I waited this long I want the full romance. Do you understand?” He swallows, parting his lips again to speak when Satoru comes zipping by, all fucked up, you roll your eyes when he smacks into a wall.

“Satoru, how much did you take?” Satoru’s grinning, summoning a giant blue iced cupcake in his hands, licking it as he laughs, his blue eyes all red around the irises.

“Hmm, just one but mmm, they’re so good,” he’s licking the icing with his tongue, crisscrossed on the floor.

“Don’t drop it on the carpet, Toru.”

“I’ll get you blue carpet,” he’s snorting, all xaned the fuck out, waving his hand so the entire floor is blue. “Hah – there.”

“Seriously?” You cover your face and shake your head. “I don’t wish for a blue carpet though?”

“Mmm, almost looks like my eyes,” Satoru lays back on your floor and crosses his legs – your now baby blue floor, slamming the cupcakes and moaning. “Mmm, should come eat one sweetheart.”

“You two should go home,” you frown a bit when Satoru looks at you from where he’s laying down, brows raised. “As in your home.”

“Do you not love us anymore,” Satoru sits up, you shake your head.

“I love you both too much, that’s the problem,” they go to open their mouths and you turn just a bit, looking back at Suguru. “I wish my dress was unzipped so I can get in my pajamas.”

Suguru goes to move his wand and then pauses, stepping over to you instead, your breath catches when his fingers grip that zipper and his other hand brushes your hair off one side of your neck. You tremble at the sensation, at his touch that feels too fucking good, you see Satoru flitting by, arriving with your favorite blue and purple pajama set.

Just like their eyes and wings.

Suguru lets the dress fall and you’re left there in just a bra and panties, Satoru’s lips part as he stands in front of you. Your heart is racing so fast you feel like it’s going to rush out of your chest.

“I wish my bra was off,” your whisper is met with Suguru unsnapping it rather than using his magic, and when Satoru sees your tits his cock immediately tents up in his pants, he uses your folded pajamas to cover it. “Thank you both.”

“Of course,” Suguru’s voice is hoarse, his hands brushing down your arms and then falling off.

“I wish my pajamas were on,” you test it, the new way they’re granting them, Satoru steps forward and opens the shirt up, slipping it over your head.

He almost busts when your tits jiggle just a bit, swaying ever so gently, slipping the shirt over them reluctantly, the backs of his fingers hitting the softness of them, earning your soft whine. He pauses and falters, sure fairy hands shaking, he’s never felt this for anyone but you and it’s scary, not knowing what it is, or what to do – only knowing he wants to claim you.

He lets the big shirt fall and then kneels, even as his wings flutter around, you balance on a shoulder of his while he slips up your shorts, seeing the damp spot against your panties. He almost whimpers from it, the scent in his nostrils, remembering how you tasted off your toy, slipping those shorts over, but not before he pressed his lips right over your waist band.

“Mnh!” Your hand entangles in his hair, heart hammering in your ears as you look down at him, Suguru at your back, Satoru kneeling.

You’ve had far too many dreams just like this.

“I um…” You almost do it, almost beg for it – what would one time with the men you love really hurt?

Yet if you get Satoru and Suguru, there’s no going back to normal, is there? You’d be all alone.

“Good night, you two,” you murmur instead, turning back and smiling at Suguru, kissing his chin, tugging Satoru up and doing the same. “I’ll see you all in the morning, right?”

“Right…”

You smile sadly as they poof into thin air, before leaning against your couch and crying out, touching the achy, slick mess the two have made of your cunt.

Satoru and Suguru are floating in front of your house, when Satoru lets out a loud sigh. “My uh… cock it’s…”

“Hard?”

“Painfully.”

“Same,” Suguru takes a breath and winces. “It hurts.”

“Me too… God, we’re gonna have to ask Toji,” Satoru sputters, waving his lanky arms around. “IF you want to please her, keep her? We have to.”

“I thought you knew the sex stuff - like the vy-bray-tor!” Suguru snorts at his friend, running a hand over his face.

“I know a bit, but it’s limited,” he sighs and looks at your house. “She’s trying all of this to feel loved.”

“We do love her!”

“Physical love Satoru,” he’s a blushing mess. “I want to give that to her… do you…”

“Yes! I mean uh… yes just…” He’s burning hot thinking of you, Satoru keeps thinking of that damn vy-bray-tor and how sexy you looked. He’s been leaking pre and aching remembering the taste of your slick on his tongue, Satoru could hardly handle how sweet it was on his tastebuds now that he knew it was from your… Suguru called it a pussy he thinks?

“You want to, and I want to so…” Suguru trails off.

“Do we do it too?”

“What, no!?” Satoru blinks his snowy lashes in confusion. “I don’t want to do them with you.”

“I’m beautiful!?”

“Debatable.”

“I didn't want to, I just was scared you wanted my fairy virginity!”

“I sure do not. I will deal with you when we are with her, because she deserves that much love.”

“You know Suguru, I swear,” his ears perk up then, hearing your high pitched little whines, the buzzing of your toy, his heart hammering in his chest. “I’m so jealous of that damn toy.”

“Same,” Suguru runs his hands through his hair, fluttering his wings to fly up higher, darting up above the trees. “We have to go see him.”

“This girl is such a brat, tch,” Satoru begrudgingly agrees though. “Fine then, let's go see that damn Fairy fucking Toji.”

*****

“Hah, you two twinks want advice from me,” Suguru and Satoru cross their arms, Fairy Toji is enormous, with black wings that are all sorts of torn up. The troublemaker of all the fairies, so fucking huge then he had itty bitty ass wings. “Oh, your human wants some dick? I’ll help her, no need to worry there.”

“Not you, us!” Satoru scoffs now, blue eyes narrowing. “You’re not touching our girl.”

Our girl.

Suguru smiles a bit at the sound of that, thinking that you’re theirs, surely Toji knew he had no fucking chance, even if you said Toji was ‘hot’ they chose to completely ignore that. You’ve seen him before since he’s one of your good friend’s fairies, but they moved far off. A moment for Satoru and Suguru, all the way across the country for you to see them.

Well, if they transported you, but you always got mad and sick when they did, plus you can’t hear this!

“Ya know how to make a woman cum?” He grins and crosses his arms – the only fairy to wear sweats rather than a nice fancy suit or beautiful dress, he was by far the darkest fairy in the realm. “I’ll tell ya how, but it’d be better if I demonstrated it to her.”

“You will not,” Toji snorted in laughter at Satoru’s indignation.

“Oh? You gonna eat her pussy then?”

“Eat…” Satoru frowns, Suguru’s once again bright red. “How do you know more than me, Sugu!? What is it?”

“Ah when you… taste…”

“It’s when you bury your face between her thighs,” Toji cuts Suguru off, a wide grin right on his face. “Fuck her pretty lil’ cunt with your tongue.”

“Put it in there?” Suguru asks, manifesting a notepad and jotting down what Toji says, as the huge fairy just chuckles. “In her hole?”

“Mmm, all three.”

“Human’s have three?” Suguru asks.

“They do, so do fairies you two are just all sheltered, princely this and that, you sure your family won’t be real mad you came to Toji?”

“We’re adults now,” Satoru pulls up a vision of you, on your next date all cute and giggly, breaking his damn heart. “See how happy she is? He’s touching her leg!”

“He can’t touch her leg!” Suguru flits over and pouts. “That’s our girl.”

“See what we mean? She’s so eager to be pleased that…”

“She’s ovulating, heh,” Satoru and Suguru blink and look at Toji who is licking his lips. “It’s when they’re so fuckin horned up they rock on your thigh, slick cunts all ready, that heat too? Bet she’s so fuckin’ hot there.”

“Toji that’s quite enough,” Suguru is mortified, his gists clenching as he watches the projection of you with a fuck ass date. “Just tell us how to get her.”

“How to fuck her?”

“No, get her so she never wants anyone,” Satoru’s eyes go insane as he imagines it – you ever telling them to go forever and meaning that shit. “Also yes, we wanna know how to make her… we want to be a vib-bray-tor.”

“A what?” Toji snorts and smacks his thick ass thigh in laughter, the fairies hair pricks on their necks.

“Her toy.”

“Ah, that,” Toji licks his lower lip, studying your image reflected against the pretty, puffy pink clouds all around the three of them. “Her vibe?”

“That’s what I said,” Satoru hums then. “I can do what it can, why does she even need it?”

“So ya gotta show her, vibrate on her clit.”

“Clit?”

Toji looks between the two of them and sighs, running a hand across his own face. “You all don’t know what a clit is?”

Fairy Toji has to summon a diagram out of thin air – one that makes the fairy princes blush. He takes his glittery black wand and smacks the board.

“Class in session.”

*****

“I'm gonna make her cum so much more than you can,” Satoru is snickering when they head over to spy on your date, but what they see upsets them, you across the table from the guy they’d begrudgingly had to choose. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Suguru murmurs dejected, you're so pretty tonight and just laughing, hair glimmering that jade you had asked them to turn into years back, your smile lighting up the room. “Shit…”

“She likes him,” Satoru’s wings start trembling, just like his lower lip with how upset he is, as they both look at each other. “He seems…”

“Perfect,” Suguru mumbles back, they both sigh and look at you, all giggling as your date is brushing your hair back. “We should be happy for her, we’re not supposed to have a human forever, right?”

“Right,” Satoru can’t help but feel sick to his stomach, his hands clenching and unclenching. “We have our responsibilities and shit.”

“Yeah, we do,” Suguru closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Still, I’d have done anything to…”

“Yeah,” Satoru’s eyes well up just a bit, little trickles of glitter slipping down his flushed cheeks. “Let’s go home.”

You feel them gone the moment they leave the restaurant – you can always feel them, when they enter or leave any room. Yet you didn’t hear them talk this time, usually on a date they were making some sort of insane mess happen, making sure to utterly fuck it all up for you – but today? They were quiet, they gave you time to talk to him, they were actually nice about it.

You should be happy, that they led you to a potential boyfriend, that they gave your mind just a bit of peace, that perhaps you can move on from them, that you can lead a ‘normal life’ and not watch the two loves of your life never age. Not pine away for them and then have so much pain when they had to go back, when they got assigned a new mortal to take care of.

You couldn’t handle seeing Satoru and Suguru with anyone else.

You laugh softly at something your date is saying, focusing on sipping your drink – you have to try.

But why does it feel so wrong?

*****

You walk inside and slip off your heels, the house is pitch black, but you start to see a glimmer of wings, the outlines of Satoru and Suguru standing in your living room. Satoru’s sitting on your couch right next to Suguru, leaning back all casual, the two of them scooch apart a bit, patting the space between them.

“Hey, princess, your date was fun?” Suguru asks, as if it’s so casual, you nod and walk over slowly, now bare feet padding across the soft carpet.

“It was,” Satoru leans forward a bit, taking your hand, making your heart race in your chest. “Hey Toru.”

“Hi sweetheart,” Satoru tugs you down, you turn so you’ve got your feet underneath you, arms wrapping around your knees. “He seemed nice.”

“He was,” you look to Suguru on your left, then back to Satoru on your right, heart racing in your chest. “Very nice.”

“That’s good,” Suguru smiles but it doesn’t hit his eyes. “So you think he could be your boyfriend?”

“He could,” you trail off now, seeing Satoru’s sad attempt at a curve to his lips. “I um…”

They break you, how sweet they are, how they look at you, how could you ever hope to truly move on when they exist? Suddenly it gets to you, the act you’ve been trying to play, so damn overwhelming you’re barely able to keep it together, tears slipping from your eyes, making them both react.

“Did he hurt you!?” Suguru demands, you shake your head, sniffling. “I swear if he did…”

“No…”

“We should have stayed,” Satoru grips your chin gently, swiping your tears. “I shouldn’t have left.”

“You were trying to give me what I wanted,” you barely keep anything together, trembling as the two of them lean in, their scents filling you.

They’re just consuming you.

“Then what is wrong, princess?” Suguru tilts your face to him, and you can’t help but glance at his lips.

Ones that have kissed your cheek, your brow, your head and your hand – how would they feel on your lips? Your heart races violently in your chest at the thought, his slight frown the only thing that breaks you out of it.

“Why are you crying, sweetheart?” Satoru’s gentle question draws your gaze back to your other fairy god parent. You take a shaky breath, hands on their thighs, sniffling as more tears threaten. “Want another boy?”

“No it’s just none of them are you,” Satoru sucks in a breath, his wings stopping their usual flutter, almost see through in the dark of your living room. “And none of them are you.”

That glance is directed at Suguru, who leans in and cups your face. “Not us, as in what?”

“As in no matter how perfect, I’ll always compare,” you shake your head, leaning right into Suguru, your lips almost brushing. “It’s not okay to feel this way about the two of you.”

“What way?” Satoru whispers against your neck, his hand slipping around to your waist and pressing against it. You peer back at him, swallowing, eyeing his glossy lips for far too long.

“I want you both,” they pause, saying nothing, and you sigh. “Not as in want you to be my fairies – yes, I love that. Yet I mean I want you both inside me.”

“Inside?” Satoru’s words are so breathy it just brushes over you, slipping his hand lower, making your tummy tremble, Suguru turning you to face him again, his soft lips just a breath away.

“You want us inside you?” You swallow again, audibly this time, so wet your cunt is dripping onto your couch even through your panties, making you shift just a bit.

“Do you all know how insane and wrong it is? I can’t want that.”

“We want to be… inside,” Suguru’s a flustered mess as he speaks. Your eyes widen now, hands gripping each fairy’s thigh that much tighter. “Inside you.”

“We don’t want you to have to use a toy,” You smile tremulously at Satoru, who’s brushing his fingers up your thigh now, earning you shifting your hips. “That toy made us very mad.”

“Did it?” You tease, giggling softly, before moaning, when Satoru’s long fingers slip up your slit. “I’m um, a virgin…”

“So are we,” Suguru kisses your cheek, then hovers over your lips, his eyes heavy and lidded. “But we’d love to be inside you first.”

“In all your cute little holes,” Satoru’s words fucking ruin you, his lips pressing to the corner of your mouth, fingers toying with the damp material of the soft cotton panties you’re wearing underneath your dress. “We studied.”

“Studied?” You ask softly, giggling when Satoru finally presses a kiss on your lips, touching your clit as Suguru’s hands brush the sides of your breasts. You let out a pathetic little whine, arching for more. “Studied w-where?”

“We had to ask Toji,” you giggle, but Suguru cuts you off with his own kiss, thumb brushing over your nipple, until you’re a writhing mess between them. “Mmm, do you want us to show you what we learned?”

“I do,” you sigh then, shaking your head. “But I shouldn’t, what about one day when I-”

“We’ll figure it all out baby,” Satoru grins all fucking cute against your neck. “You’re soakin’ wet for us, hmm?”

“Let us show you, princess,” Suguru’s voice is a low murmur against your lips, his thumb stroking your cheekbone delicately, the duality of the two fairies you love even more overwhelming.

Satoru’s fingers still press against your slick folds, his soft lips now trailing down your neck, nipping lightly with those sharp teeth as he endlessly teases your dripping cunt. You’re writhing, hips rocking up for more of his touches, as Suguru nips your lower lip with his teeth, you’re soaking Satoru even more, dying for it.

“We’ve been waiting for this,” Suguru says then. “Haven’t we, Satoru?”

“We have,” you gasp as his long fingers finally push your panties aside, sliding through your slit, spreading that wetness all over your puffy lips. “My turn.”

Satoru captures your lips in a messy, desperate kiss that’s all tongue and teeth, not deep and slow like Suguru, his tongue dancing with yours as Suguru’s fingers reach down and join Satoru’s, rough pads of them circling your clit.

“Ngh!”

“Fuck,” Suguru’s lost at how sticky and wet you are, watching Satoru kiss you, the two of them playing with your perfect cunt they’ve dreamed about. “Feel how wet she is.”

“I know,” Satoru murmurs against your lips, taking a breath. Your back arches as Satoru sinks one long finger inside you, your walls clenching around him. “You’re so tight, f-fuck…”

Their wings are buzzing and vibrating, making you vibrate yourself with their proximity. Satoru's finger is so long it hits deep, pressing up on your spot over and over, the squelching noises of it loud in your quiet apartment. Suguru’s stealing your lips again, your clit twitching underneath the pressure, gushing even more arousal until both men are easily sliding their fingers inside.

Alternation, Satoru inside, then Suguru and Satoru teases your clit, pushing you closer and closer until you feel as if you’re going to fall apart, clinging to both of them, soft whines escaping your lips. “Please! More…”

Satoru adds a second finger, stretching you out with those thick digits and scissoring in and out of that soppy mess your cunt has become. “Like this, sweetheart? Or do you want more?”

“S’good,” you’re mumbling, head falling back as both fairies kiss up your collarbones, your neck, breath tickling, maddening with how they’re working your cunt, so good you’ve never felt it. “More, more…”

Satoru chuckles now. “You want our cocks inside?”

“Please,” you moan then. “Room.”

Satoru and Suguru grin at each other, Satoru pulls out his fingers and slips them into Suguru’s mouth, he moans as he tastes your cunt off them. “Oh fuck, she is sweet Satoru…”

“I know,” your mouth drops open at the filthy sight, when with a flutter of wings, they lift you effortlessly off that couch, Satoru is carrying you down the hall as if you weigh nothing, Suguru rushing to open your door, setting you down to stand. Suguru unzips your dress just like he had the other night, the sound of the zipper echoing in the room.

“Tortured us tonight,” Satoru pouts all cutely, you smile a bit. “And the other night, having to see you like this?”

“I didn’t know that you would want this,” you admit, trembling when Suguru’s fingers brush across your bare skin, Satoru kneels right in front of you like he had when he’d slipped up your shorts, but this time he’s kissing up your thigh. “Mnh! Toru…”

“He taught us a lot,” Satoru murmurs softly, nipping your inner thigh and grinning so damn cute up at you again. “All about the cli- tor - iss.”

“Satoru stop doing that,” Suguru grumbles. “It’s a clit.”

“Yeah, that,” you giggle all breathless, when he tugs at your thigh. “Put it up on my shoulder and lean back on Sugu.”

“Y-yes,” you do just that, the curve of your back against Suguru’s hard chest, thigh thrown over one of Satoru’s shoulders, gasping when he nuzzles your cunt, his straight nose bumping it. “Nghh!”

“There it is,” he muses, Suguru’s hands come to grip your bare breasts, feeling the weight of them against his palms, thumbs brushing your nipples while Satoru’s fingers dimple the flesh of your thigh. “Hi there cutie.”

“You’re so crazy,” you say all breathless, he laughs and vibrates against it, the lines of his teeth on your puffy lips, you’re trembling, juices drippin’ all down his pretty face as he nudges your puffy lips apart. “My clit is cute?”

“All of you is, but she’s twtichin’ all adorable, hah –” Satoru laps the tip of his tongue up it, making you jolt, the sensations shooting up to your addled brain, his wings fluttering so that all the fairy dust hits your senses. It just makes it feel that much better, more pleasure, so much you almost cum from nothing. “Mmm…”

“God,” Suguru looks at your face – the pleasure on it, his own cock straining against the small of your back, thumb and forefingers tweaking the peaks of your breasts, making them even more sensitive. “You like him licking it Princess?”

“Mhm,” you’re nodding weakly, a hand entangled delicately in Satoru’s pretty white locks, thighs trembling as your cunt just spurts liquid drips all down him, his tongue gathering it all at your entrance, gulping it down greedily. “Toru… Sugu…”

“That’s it,” Suguru whispers, wrapping a hand gently around your throat and applying pressure, thumb right over your pulse point that’s fluttering just like his wings, softly brushing against you and wrapping your upper half. Everywhere they touch sets it on fire. “We researched you may like some pressure on your throat, but I will be very careful. Do you want that, pretty?”

“Y-yes,” are you having a wet dream, no way Suguru – your fairy godparent – is asking permission to choke you, while Satoru’s lapping up your slit all greedy. Surely you are violating every Fairy Godparent code known to man.

Yet, when Suguru squeezes and kisses you, and Satoru’s fingers bruisingly grip your hips – it’s worth whatever insane ass fairy jail you’d have to go to. Arching and rolling your hips to fuck Satoru’s pretty face with his urging, Suguru applying more pressure to your windpipe until you’re dizzy, cunt pulsing around nothing, aching to get filled.

“Are you close, sweetheart?” Satoru asks, flicking his tongue again, you nod and he grins. “Then cum for us, let us see. Please?”

“Pretty Please?” Their wings buzz as you nod weakly, Satoru sucking your little clit in his mouth and humming.

Oh he is better than any vibrator, stroking his own cock to get some relief, fluttering his tongue so fast you shatter for him, cumming with gushes of slick that spurt and drip all over his face. He drinks it down greedily, moaning and lapping every little bit of it he can, your hands pulling his hair so hard it hurts – just making him leak that much more pre for you.

“You’re so good for us,” Suguru whispers, releasing your throat and kissing up it like a little apology, where his fingers had gripped, you’re gasping for a greedy breath, eyelashes fluttering when Satoru kisses your cunt and eases your thigh down.

“Better than your toy?” You giggle at that, nodding, he stands and kisses you, spitting your own release right into your mouth, before he picks you up and  lays you down on the bed, you bounce gently, watching as the two of them go to undress.

“Wait…” You bite your lip, leaning up on your elbows. “I wish for you both to just be naked already.”

Poof goes their clothes, Satoru’s lithe and cut frame next to Suguru’s – just a little broader, muscled thighs and their skin damn near shimmers underneath the soft lights from your ceiling. Their wings are even prettier like this, little motes all over the room escaping with every gentle buzz.

Their cocks are bigger than you even thought – thick, veiny cocks that are damn near the same size, Satoru’s is a little more curved up, a pink blushed tip with so much pre leaking out of it. Suguru’s is a little darker, his cock smacking his belly button before hanging there. The two of them are so ready they’re dripping all that cum down on your carpet.

You sure the fuck won’t complain.

Though…

“I don’t know if you all will fit,” you murmur, they’re both over eight inches and thick and you haven’t even gotten to take cock yet.

“We will,” Satoru grins and walks over to you, pressing you down on your back, his pre cum dripping across your lips, making them white as you open your mouth, licking his tip and making him cry out. “Oh your mouth…”

Suguru settles between your thighs, laying prone and moaning at the sight of you, parting your lips. “You’re so much prettier than that chart.”

“Chart? Mph!” Satoru shoves his cock inside your mouth a little too eagerly, you moan around it, feeling Suguru’s hot tongue run up your slit, shoving your thighs up a little too eager, rutting his cock on your mattress.

“Fuck s’pretty,” he mumbles, pussy drunk off two licks, he’s not the usual controlled, calm Suguru – no he’s a munch, devouring your cunt as he slides two fingers deep inside, the dual sensations plus Satoru’s cock in your mouth too fucking much. “Mmm, taste s’sweet f-fuck…”

“Feels s’perfect,” Satoru’s whimpering, rutting his cock greedily now into the warm recesses of your mouth, you swallow reflexively, he’s brushing your hair back gently, reverently brushing his fingers on your cheekbone. “Better than a-anything, you’re all ours.”

Theirs.

You’re theirs.

It keeps echoing in their minds, as Satoru fucks your throat and Suguru has you squirting across his fingers, against his plump lips, earning his desperate moans, pulling those fingers out and eyeing the mess that’s dripping down his fingers. He sucks them off, leaning over you now, you pull back from Satoru and Suguru kisses you, tasting Satoru’s pre and your sweetness on your tongue.

Before you can really comprehend what’s happening, Satoru’s behind you and you’re on all fours – earning a good girl from your fairy godparents. He’s swiping that pink tip through the soppy mess your cunt is, gathering it and easing in your entrance, Suguru’s laid in front of you with his thighs spread, letting you suck his cock, drool spilling down to his heavy balls.

Satoru leans over you, a hand brushing your hair to one side, kissing up the side of your neck, his wings are causing blue glitter to sprinkle and dissolve in the air, as Suguru’s hands gently tug your hair. “You all right sweetheart?”

“Y-yes,” he eases further, making you cry out, and they both pause, panicking just a bit. “I’m g-good, god don’t stop.”

“You s-sure pretty?” Satoru whispers, easing back and moaning, a low hum in his throat – seeing the way your cunt is swallowing him up, more of him disappearing in that tiny, quivering hole. “Just like this?”

“Yes, mmhmm!” Your mouth wraps Suguru again, he’s exhaling at the sight of your eyes rolling back in your skull when Satoru bottoms out with a squelching thrust, his balls slapping your twitchy clit. Your hands cling to Suguru’s thighs, feeling his wings brushing your face as Satoru’s brushes your overheated skin on your back.

“You’re takin’ me so well,” Suguru’s encouragement has you going deeper, Satoru’s bottomed out now, as you try to get used to the stretch, your cunt gushing and drooling, making every thrust just a little easier. “You’re full of us, hmm?”

“So full of us,” Satoru leans forward and begins to fuck you harder, tugging your head off Suguru’s cock so he can kiss you, hungry and messy, wrapping you with his wings in a gossamer shade of blue. “Feel us, sweetheart? You’re made for us – no boyfriends… fuck you’re too tight, mnh…”

“All us,” Suguru agrees, thumb slipping in between your lips and pressing as Satoru slams your cervix, easing back to grab your hips and rock his cock in and out, tip dragging along that sensitive spot inside.

You moan around Suguru’s girth as he begins to fuck you, the initial twinge of pain now pure ecstasy – Satoru and Suguru are taking you over, the mix of their wings fluttering and their cocks, hands, mouths a drug themselves. Their soft praises and little whimpers as they lose themselves with you.

Satoru’s pace turns brutal, the thing about fairies is they’re strong and fast, but you want it – arching back for every time his hips snap against your ass, your cunt just fluttering around him, making him cry out, fingers gripping your waist so tight. Every fuck makes you take Suguru’s pretty cock deeper down your throat, choking on it and gagging, tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Don’t take too much,” he whispers, his fingers tightening in your hair as he watches you bottom out. “Fuck, so greedy for us, aren’t you, Princess?”

You can only moan in response, the vibrations making Suguru tremble and pulse inside your stretched throat, already sore, your cunt steadily being beat up by Satoru’s huge cock, his wings flutter wildly as he gets closer, feeling you tremble all around him, sending another cascade of blue glitter raining down around you three.

“Cum for us again, sweetheart,” Satoru whispers, already so close he’s having trouble holding back. He’s never felt anything as good as your perfect little cunt – sucking him in like she’s made for it. “Let us see how pretty you are.”

You fall apart, barely able to cling to any sense of reality – you are getting fucked by your fairy godparents, after all. Your cunt is milking Satoru, your throat milking Suguru, the two of them whimpering as much as they’re moaning, fucking both your mouth and cunt fully, barely letting you get air.

“Gonna fill you up with all my cum,” Satoru whispers, burying himself deep and rolling his hips. “You want it sweetheart?”

Suguru pulls back, you watch his cock visibly twitch, his breaths ragged as they let you answer. “I want both of you to.”

“Good girl…” They both murmur it, and Suguru eases his cock back inside your mouth, Satoru slamming your cervix one more time, spilling his glittery – yes, fairy cum is glittery – white ropes inside your gummy walls, hot and thick just flooding you.

“Takin’ all of it, m-my good girl mnh,” Satoru’s whining desperately, fucking his cum inside you to plug it up and keep it there. Suguru follows moments later, his cock twitching as he paints your tastebuds and the roof of your mouth with his glittery release. You swallow every drop, it’s sweet, candy level sweet cum, you’re sucking it even after, until Suguru is a trembling mess.

“Princess, ah! T-too much…” You pull back apologetically, and they both smile at you.

“Still want a boyfriend, brat?” Satoru pulls out of you, watching the mess of white pour and moaning, taking his fingers and shoving it back in.

“Not at all… I just was so sure you all didn’t…”

“Hey,” Satoru leans forward and kisses you, swiping drool off the corner of your lips. “We love you.”

“We do love you,” Suguru whispers, leaning forward to pull your body against him. “So much. You’re ours.”

“I love you both, crazy ass fairies,” they laugh and soon you three lay there breathless, feeling their wings wrapping you in a shimmering cocoon, a mix of purple and blue, both fairies holding you close, and you’re just in a perfect little world with them. You giggle at the sensation, turning to see Suguru grinning all big.

“You’re so perfect,” Suguru murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Absolutely perfect.”

“You are baby,” Satoru whispers, kissing your forehead, your nose, nuzzling it and sighing. “Worth breaking every rule.”

“How much trouble will we be in?” You ask then, their wings fall just a bit, both sighing at the question.

“Mmm, we will be in a lot of trouble,” Satoru admits, laughing just a bit. “But I already have my speech planned.”

“Dear god, let me write it,” Suguru’s kissing your shoulders now, his cock hard already, nudging your cunt that’s drippin’ Satoru’s cum. “S-sorry, I didn’t realize it would happen again so fast.”

“S’okay,” you’re arching back, making him hiss, as Satoru’s long fingers grip underneath your chin, slamming his lips on yours again. “What’s the plan – ah!”

Suguru’s pressing his tip inside, Satoru lifts your thigh so Suguru can go deeper, his own cock spurting pre on your tummy. You whine out at it, rocking back against him, Satoru’s rutting on your skin, his balls smacking against your clit as he uses any surface of your pretty body he can to fuck.

“Mmm, gonna tell ‘em you’re my bride,” his grin is precious. “They can’t say no to that shit.”

“I want her to be my bride,” Suguru slams in your cunt, Satoru gasps. “What, you thought you’d have her to yourself?”

“I’ll share, sometimes,” he’s yanking you to him, off Suguru’s cock, slamming his own back inside. “Mmm, tell him pookie, all me.”

“C-can’t you two share? Ah!”

“She’s mine,” Suguru has you back down bottoming out on his cock, you’re drooling against Satoru’s lips as he kisses you, using one of your hands to stroke his cock – still slick with you. “My princess.”

“Great, how are w-we gonna explain this?”

“We’ll f-figure it out,” you breathe out, feeling Suguru’s cock slam into you harder – skin smacking as his pelvis hits your ass over and over, making you convulse in between your fairy godparents. “Not tonight, just… wish you both to keep cummin’ inside me.”

Well who are they if not your fairy godparents – of course they’ll grant that wish for you. <3

You ignore the swordsman’s curious eye, trying to be more interested in the conversation Robin and Franky are having; something about poneglyphs, but you wouldn’t be too sure because your thoughts are louder than their voices, making it hard to focus.

Tonight, everything hits you at once: your past, the present, and the what-ifs. The future remains a distant concept, with its many possible outcomes holding you back.

You think these thoughts that cloud your brain are nothing but selfish. A burning desire of yours is to quietly slip away and let your soul be free from this body and place.

You love the Straw Hats, your captain, and your crewmates. You love the sea and exploring new islands. With every stop, you hope to learn something new to distract yourself from the small part of you that wishes you weren't alive.

But every now and then, it hits you. And you feel like you’re nothing but a waste of space.

Before you realize it, Zoro’s standing next to you, offering his hand. You know the blend of sympathy, disappointment, and sadness on his face. With a deep breath and a small smile to the rest of the crew, you accept it, allowing him to pull your body up and lead you down the corridor.

+x+

Roronoa Zoro, pirate hunter turned pirate, was someone you held close to your heart. He was your closest friend, your anchor in times of darkness, and your lover.

He took care of you, even in your absence; he told you that you look out for everyone else that you tend to forget to take care of yourself.

When the crew split up and you had decided to go to Whole Cake Island, Zoro made sure Franky had sent you off with two transponder snails so he could check in on you. He’s still unsure of what happened on the island of sweets, but after your reunion with the rest of the crew he’s noticed the light in your eye had become darker.

He leads you to his room, opening the door for you and placing his swords by the entrance. You take a seat on his bed, a change from your usual behavior of lying down. Your thoughts crowd your mind again as the atmosphere around you grows quieter.

You’re not doing enough. Luffy doesn’t need you, nor do the others; you believe you’re just extra weight they carry because you’re his sister.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” You feel the mattress dip as Zoro occupies the space next to you, his body radiating warmth your way. He’s laying down, arms rested behind his head, eyes closed. You stare at the man next to you, taking in his form; despite the number of times he’s smiled in the face of death, scars and stitches scattering his body, you still think he’s the most handsome man on this earth.

“Just been…thinking,” you start. “About everything that’s happened up until now.”

Zoro hums to let you know that he’s listening, a cue for you to continue.

“Nobody on the crew knows this, not even Luffy, but I was there at Marineford.”

This makes Zoro’s eye shoot open, a look of surprise painting his face. As bad as it sounds, he isn’t too interested in learning about where the crew spent the last two years, he’s just glad they all made it back together alive. He knows that you spent time mastering your Haki with your childhood teacher, but that’s all you’ve let the crew know about.

“Grandpa snuck me in disguised as a marine — I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone if I was able to leave quietly. I wanted to see Ace one last time, and he granted me that because he owed me one for keeping an eye on Luffy when we were younger.

I was able to visit his holding cell, and the sight of him…it felt as if I was being punished. Ace was the one person who understood me and how I tend to feel, the one person I shared so much in common with. He was able to find bits and pieces of himself again thanks to the light that shines through Luffy, and when he left us I promised that I’d try and keep him safe despite the distance between us, and hopefully find myself through our crybaby brother as well.”

You’re smiling fondly at the distant memories of you and your brothers, ones that you wished were photographed so you could have physical proof of those events taking place; so even when you’re old and senile you’ll be able to remember them happening.

“Tell me more,” Zoro says. He eyes the spot next to him, and you position yourself to lay there. He allows you to remove his left arm from behind his head to use as a pillow. “Were you safe, at least?”

Of course not. You were infiltrating the World Government, and if you made a tiny mistake, you would’ve been right next to Ace on the execution platform.

“I was — you know I wouldn’t do anything impulsively, unlike some people.” You giggle, remembering the moment Luffy fell from the sky, in the middle of the battlefield. “I ended up being able to sneak away because of him. I found Trafalgar’s submarine and hopped on board and waited…and I can’t help but think that was my biggest mistake, leaving Luffy alone. It’s a heavy guilt that I’ve been carrying.”

Zoro ponders for a moment; it isn’t your weight to carry, he wants to say. Luffy went to Marineford on his own accord, and not every ending is a happy one. He’s also curious about how you were able to find the surgeon and his crew, but that’s something he’ll ask about another time.

“And when I felt Shanks’ presence nearby, I asked Law to take me to his ship — which he declined, of course — so I got off and swam there instead. The waters were surprisingly calm, so don’t panic, I’m sure Jinbe wouldn’t have let me get eaten up,” you confess to him, reassuring him that you were safe every step of the way.

You stare at the left side of his face, your arms wrapped around his body as if he was a teddy bear. The blanket you had previously wrapped around your body now covered parts of his, his arm cuddling you close as if you’d ever slip away.

“How’d it go with the redhead?” Zoro asks. His eyes are still closed but you know he’s interested in knowing; asking questions is somewhat his way of begging to know more. He isn’t as stoic as he thinks he is, at least not towards you.

“It was good seeing Shanks again. He was heading to Marineford to end the war, and allowed me to stay and hide with him until Luffy made the decision to reunite in two years. He’s actually the one who took me to my childhood teacher; it took about three weeks after burying Ace and Whitebeard to get there.”

Zoro’s curious about how you handled Ace’s burial, but again, that’s something he’ll ask about another time.

“They asked about us. It was different being the one to share experiences about life on the sea; but it was refreshing and fun…I told them all about the crazy stuff we went through, and they let me know about the reputation we’ve built for ourselves. It’s actually kind of cool how many people know of us, but also scary at the same time. It really opened my eyes though; it was probably the first time in a long time that I…” you trail off, repositioning your head to be more comfortable, the hand that lay on Zoro’s chest now tracing lines as you daze off. Sensing that he’s lost you, he opens his eye and nudges you lightly.

“I felt like I had a life purpose again. Gaining the knowledge that a lot of people had their eyes set on us as a team, it made me realize the responsibility I hold. The promises I made to both Ace and Sabo, the ones I made to you and the rest of us, and the promise I made to myself as a child — my ultimate dream: to live a long, fulfilled life.”

“Even though I felt great and motivated after that and even now, the thoughts still linger around. The what-ifs: what if I stayed and attempted to save Ace alongside Luffy? What if I got caught by the Marines? What if the five of you never found me in Loguetown?

It’s a never-ending battle, and I’m getting more tired of myself with every passing day. It’s the reason why even now I exhaust myself mentally and physically, just to escape my thoughts. I guess there must be something happening with the planets for me to experience these feelings right now,” your tone is light, almost playful, yet your words place a heavy weight on him.

You let out a sharp sigh, suddenly turning on your back and staring at the wooden ceiling. You release your Haki to see what the rest of the crew is up to, noticing that some of them have already gone to bed. The only other people awake at the moment are Luffy, Sanji, and Jinbe — sharing a late night snack and a hushed conversation.

“You’re stronger and more resilient than you think,” Zoro states. “As a matter of fact, you’re probably the strongest person I know, both physically and mentally.

You’ve faced nothing but obstacles your entire life, and it makes me wish I had known you when we were younger. You and Kuina would’ve been great friends.” The mention of your lover’s childhood friend makes you smile. He’s only ever confided in you about his upbringing, and you pray to the heavens, hoping that Kuina herself hears you ask for his protection. “I admire you so much.”

And it’s true: Zoro envies how strong you are. He wishes he had unlocked Haki at a young age. He wishes he was as smart as you. There are so many things Zoro admires about you, and he wishes he knew the words to voice it.

“I’m not great with words.” You giggle at his self-awareness but let the laughter die down as he rolls his eye playfully. “But you deserve to be here — alive — regardless of where you came from, what powers and knowledge you possess, and what happened when you were a child. I’ve watched you grow into the person you are today, and it’s been a privilege.

Sometimes, it feels as if I was a saint in my past life to experience this: the open ocean, the different people and places, and you. However you see yourself isn’t how anyone else views you. Chopper looks up to you as a guardian — and despite the small age difference, I’m sure our knucklehead captain does too. Nami, Robin, Usopp, and Franky see you as their sister. I’m sure I heard Jinbe speaking of you like a daughter, and as for the annoying waiter we call a cook, he practically worships the ground you walk on. The skeleton praised you constantly, so I’m not sure how you don’t see the admiration everyone has for you.

You’ve become one of my biggest inspirations. I’ll probably never be in the mood to admit this again, so make sure you’re listening.” He suddenly sits up and rests against the headboard, your movements copying his as he interlocks your hands with his.

He meets your gaze, and you feel like you fall in love with him all over again. He’s looking at you with pure adoration, as if he’s trying to engrave your face into his memory.

Even with tear stains running down your cheeks and puffy eyes, you’re still the prettiest person to exist. Everything about you is perfect, and a demon like me doesn’t even deserve to be in your presence, Zoro thinks.

“The time we spent apart, I took some time to think about our adventures as a crew. I’m not sure if I subconsciously did it because it was a strange feeling being away from you all, or if it was because Perona kept asking too many questions.

After explaining how the ten of us all became a crew, she pointed out that I mentioned you a lot. I didn’t think so at the time, but I guess it’s just something that feels natural to me. What I’m trying to say is…

“I love you. You know this already, but I know sometimes it feels nice to have a verbal reminder. I’m in love with you, and I know I’ll always be. And I’ll help you fight your battles, even when you ask me to give you space. I’ll do anything you want me to, just promise me you’ll let me be there for you. You — in such a short amount of time — have become my greatest weakness.

It hurts when you push yourself away from everyone else, especially me. I know you don’t want to feel like a burden, but you’ll never be one; to me, or the others. Especially to Luffy. Whether you decide to tell him you were there to see Ace, is up to you. I’m positive he won’t react the way you think he would. You’ve always taken on way more than what we ask of you, and applying more pressure to yourself isn’t going to make us look at you any differently. You’re appreciated for all that you do, and will always be.

The only thing I’m asking of you is to take the time and make sure you’re taking care of yourself. Physical battles already take a toll on all of us, and we can always help each other out, but the mental ones we face can only be taken on by ourselves. Even I find it hard to deal with it. But then I’m grounded by remembering the fact that I was put here on this Earth for a reason — everyone was.”

Your jaw is hung open at Zoro’s words; yes, he saves sweet talk for you and you only, but this was an entirely different and unexpected side of him.

You want to cry. You want to kiss him. You want to take all of his pain away and give it to the officials in the World Government. You want to cradle his face in your chest and kiss his cheeks and tell him sweet nothings; yet as you process his words, you sit there in silence.

I’m grounded by remembering the fact that I was put here on this Earth for a reason — everyone was.

Similar to the last words spoken to you by your beloved brother Ace, you feel tears slip out of your eyes and suddenly you’re trapping Zoro in your arms.

“Thank you, Zo.”

The whisper reaches him, and he relaxes comfortably in your embrace. He buries his head in the crook of your shoulder, his arms wrapped around your torso. Even though it took a lot of guts to be that vulnerable, his chest feels lighter. With a soft kiss pressed to the top of his head, you return the words back to him.

“I love you so much. Thank you for always being there for me. You’re truly one of my anchors in this life.”

+x+

You wake up the next morning alone in bed. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, except this time a note sits on Zoro’s nightstand.

Woke up to Nami banging on the door. Kind of surprised it didn’t wake you up either. Anyway, we’re docked now and Luffy dragged me out with him to explore. The stupid cook and Robin are still here on the ship, so I asked them to ring me when you wake up. If you decide to leave the ship, come find me. If not, then rest and I’ll come back to you later. Love you, Zoro.

You smile at the sloppy handwriting, your mind quickly flashing to last night’s conversation between the two of you. You sit and think about it and come to the conclusion that you no longer doubt yourself. You feel as light as a feather, hopping out of bed and changing into a new outfit for the day. You’re assuming your lover had taken it upon himself to change you, not remembering when you had put your sleeping clothes on.

You waltz into the kitchen, greeted with heart eyes and the smell of coffee.

“Good morning to you, Athena. We’ve been waiting for you to wake up, Sanji’s desperately wanting to go pick some things up. Are you feeling better now? Zoro said you were feeling under the weather this morning.” Robin’s gentle voice distracts you from worrying about the amount of blood spilling from Sanji’s nose, a soft smile on her face as you greet her back.

“Good morning! I feel much better now, like I can do anything.” You smile. Sanji’s serving you a plate of breakfast as you sit across from the archaeologist. You start to eat, trying to peek at the newspaper she’s holding in her hand. The headline makes you choke on your food.

“WHAT THE HELL? LUFFY’S AN EMPEROR NOW?!”

Your voice is loud enough that Sanji and Robin are sure the entire island could hear it. Before Sanji’s able to fill you in on what was discussed after you and Zoro went to bed, your shrieks were heard throughout the Sunny.

“WHAAAAAAT?! MY BOUNTY’S AT TEN DIGITS NOW?!”

“Well, you and Zoro missed a lot last night. We’re happy to know that you’re feeling better now though!” Robin says, a closed-eye smile sent your way.

You’re in a state of shock: reading the article that was released less than twenty four hours ago, and you hear Sanji’s tongue click.

“Maybe we should take Athena-swan to Chopper for medicine,” Eyes wide and jaw hung, you nod your head. “And probably look for the embarrassment you call your boyfriend.”

With that, you shove Sanji away from you, standing up quickly and taking hold of Robin’s hand. You grab your bag and walk off the ship with the two of them next to you, feeling thousands times better than last night.

Zoro, you say in your mind. Please don’t be lost. Eh — it’s been hours since they left. He’s definitely lost.

With a new sense of confidence and optimism, you hold your head high and continue your journey in making this a life worth living.

+x+

an (2): ahhhh yes!! athena (reader) is luffy’s sister…i have her while character outline already written. i kinda hate the ending but i also didn’t want to stay stuck on this lil story for too long…but i do want to write more abt our lovely athena and the life she’s willing to live <3

It’s been almost two years since the day the Heavens took Ace back. Years that were full of utter silence in your world; the pain weighing heavy on your body and soul. You’ve remained under the watch of Shakky and Rayleigh, asking that you get to spend as much time with Luffy as possible; the last bit of Ace you have access to.

Following the War at Marineford, you had asked Rayleigh if it was okay for you to stick around. He agreed after recognizing who you were — a childhood friend to both Ace and Luffy — figuring you didn’t have anywhere safe to go anyway; you’ve become infamous due to Ace’s influence on you during your childhood, and with your reputation, you’re not sure of what consequences you’d face if you were even near pirates or marines.

You’ve been with Shakky the most during this time: her giving you haki training in exchange for you to help her out whenever she needs it. You can’t complain though. You enjoy the feeling of having a maternal figure in your life, especially right now. You’re unsure of how to control your emotions, and Shakky’s been helping you navigate through them, and use them to your benefit.

Luffy has too. Whether the rubber boy knows it or not, you appreciate his gimmicks whenever you get to visit him on training days. He always has a bright smile on his face when greeting you, your body grows with warmth every time he sees you; like right now, you feel like the heat has gotten ten times hotter, yet his embrace just feels so familiar and welcoming, you almost forget that you have to pull away.

“Hey! You said you’d visit me two days ago! I got finished with my training early and expected to see you, but Rayleigh said your plans changed! What happened?” His voice is loud yet soft, and the way he’s looking at you makes you feel guilty. You avoid his gaze immediately, the small smile you’d painted on your face fading.

You don’t like talking about Ace to Luffy. It’s been like this since the two of you were children, but especially now. You know he’s trying his best to keep your mind astray from the grief, and he’s been doing so, so good at that. But every now and then, Ace visits you as you sleep, and the following day is so hard, you want to be left alone.

ᯓ★

Luffy’s not stupid — or at least, he knows how to navigate his feelings. It’s what helped observation haki come easy to him, and instantly he feels your demeanor switch; the sun reflected in your eyes, then suddenly disappeared. He knows when you’re having a tough time. In fact, he thinks he knows everything about you.

He’d probably never find it in him to voice it, but somewhere along the way, he thinks he’s found love within you. Even with the entire ocean separating the two of you for years, the feeling only blooms at the thought of you. He thinks this is how Ace must’ve felt.

Without hesitating, he grabs your hand and drags you into the jungle that’s served as his temporary home for the past year and a half. These days the jungle is quiet, so Luffy’s able to spend more time in it without having to worry. Plus, he’s a hundred times stronger than he was when he first reunited with you.

He giggles at your confused and shocked state, wanting to tease you about how you’re not used to his antics at this point. Instead he just basks in your flushed expression, admiring the beauty that graces you.

ᯓ★

After the most unwanted and unexpected marathon of your life, Luffy stops. You’re barely able to process your surroundings when you’re suddenly flying. Screams leave your throat immediately, only for you to be situated on a branch seconds after.

Luffy sits next to you, his left arm wraps around your waist securely and he nestles his head into your shoulder blade; it’s almost as if he’s clinging onto you like a koala, all while you’re nearly dying to catch your breath. He’s always been this close and clingy, especially on days you’re quiet, but over the years, you’ve grown accustomed to it this trait of his.

Your breathing goes back to normal after a couple of moments, and soon your eyes find the boy staring up at you, eyes wide and curious, sending a gentle shiver down your spine.

“Sooooooo…you been thinkin’ about Ace?” Luffy’s bluntness is something you should be used to by now, but sometimes you wonder how his crew’s able to deal with it.

You sigh as you lean into him, staring out in front of you: the clear sky was painted a pretty shade of pinks and blues, the sun was saying its final goodbyes, and the ocean — a symbol of your will — sang peacefully as the two of you settled in each other’s presence.

“Yeah,” you breathed softly. “Ace visited me again, the other day — It was kind of sudden, he hadn’t done that for a while now.”

“Well did he say anything?” You don’t want to answer, but the way he’s looking at you has your chest fill with warmth.

ᯓ★

Ace lays next to you in the sand, his gaze fixated on yours as his fingertips softly grazed the features of your face. It was silent as it always was, and you felt yourself relaxing into his touch. Although it was all in your head, it felt so real. As if the two of you were just taking a vacation, without a care in the world.

And for the first time in a long time, Ace’s voice reaches your ears.

“Ya know, Luffy’s always had a thing for you,” You’re taken back and your brows furrow in confusion. Ace has never actually talked to you in your dreams, so for this to be the first time makes you question your sanity. “He always asked me about you whenever we were kids. He never wanted to do things unless you were there to watch him. He cried whenever you leave. I always thought he was just overly dramatic, but even now, as I watch him, his eyes water.

He’s hoping to ask you to join his crew,” Ace pauses to chuckle, a sound that you had almost forgotten. You bite your tongue as you feel your eyes water, not wanting to move incase you’d wake up. “The boy asked me for advice. Mentioned the times you’ve denied him before, when we were kids, asking on how and what he could do to get you to join him.

He believes in himself more than ever now, and he told me he feels like he owes you something for not only taking care of him, but Sabo and I as well. I always thought it was a weird-one sided obsession, but then thought about how I feel the same way about you too. Like a treasure that must be protected — even though you’ve done well on your own already. I used to think you were a witch.” You roll your eyes at his nickname for you, slowly processing what he’s telling you.

“I’m not asking you to date him or anything — But I think you should consider joining the Strawhats. They’re promising, and I believe you’d make their crew so much stronger. Now that I’m gone, who’ll watch over my crazy little brother? If only Sabo was here, then maybe I’d have him do it instead of asking you — but you’ve always been the best of taking care of us, and Luffy’s attached to you. He’ll listen to your insight, because he thinks you’re the smartest person in the world. I agree, but only because I’m not on Earth anymore.” You scoff at his self-compliment, knowing it was just something to tease you about, but appreciating the fact that the boys always knew you were the smartest of the bunch. You roll on your side to face him, eyes widening when you notice he’s staring you straight in the eye.

He looks like the same hot-headed boy that left you those years ago. As if he was seventeen again, waving a see-you-later to you and Luffy as the ocean carried him and his tiny boat away. Nothing’s changed since then, even when you’d run into him at ports when you were venturing the sea as well.

“Again, you don’t have to feel any kind of those feelings towards him, but I think Luffy will help you ease the pain and eventually grow from it. If anything, he looks up to me. Find me in him if it helps. I’ll watch over the two of you and try my best to help you both out, but for now, please enjoy your youth and life for me — surrounded by love. You have so much to live for and so much willpower. You’ve always been the epitome of freedom to us, so please go and enjoy it.

I won’t visit you for a while now. I’ll let you go and handle business. But please, as always, be safe. Don’t go crashing out on everyone now. I love you, thank you for allowing me to grow with you.

I’m sorry that time and distance separated us, and I’ll make sure you’re always protected, just as I promised.”

You’re silent as he just smiles at you, words wanting to spill from your lips, but none of them feeling right. Your bottom lip wobbles as you stare at his face and features, blinking tears away so you can engrave his face into your brain.

“You know how to get to me; I’ll always be here for you. I’ll see ya later, hot stuff. Can’t wait to watch what trouble you make happen.”

ᯓ★

You sigh as you bring yourself back to reality, breathing in the air surrounding the two of you. It was fresh, the breeze was nice, and the sea remained humming her song quietly.

“Well, he might’ve let it slip that someone wants me to be apart of their crew,” you tease, feeling the boy suddenly jolt.

He chuckles nervously as he rubs the back of his head awkwardly, clearly not expecting to be outed by his own brother. “Huh?” He feigns innocence, “Well who?”

You roll your eyes and raise your brow, arms crossed as you stared at him, challenging his gaze to see if he breaks. When he doesn’t, you decide to mess with him.

“Shanks,” you tease; you’d met the infamous Red-Haired pirates around the same time Luffy did, and he was your first ever haki teacher. Although it was a small lie to tell, it wasn’t hard for Luffy to believe it.

His expression fell dramatically, his voice whiney as he pouted and looked towards the sky.

“ACE, YOU DIDN’T TELL ME THAT SHANKS ALREADY BEAT ME!” You giggled as the Luffy sent curses up to the Heavens, silently hoping none of the Gods cursed you for Luffy’s outburst. You grabbed his hands suddenly, and for a split second, shivers went down your spine. He turned and looked at you, an unreadable expression on his face that almost looked like regret.

“Hey, hey,” you coo to him. You’d always comfort Luffy after his brothers would tease him, and over time Luffy’s grown to love your touch and words. “‘M just teasin’. He told me that you were hoping I’d join your crew. Honestly?” His fingers intertwine with yours as he patiently waits for you to finish your thoughts; his hands are warm and soft, despite his constant training, the way they’ve always been. The way he’s always been. “I’ll do it, if it means I can help you reach your goals. I told you I’d see you off as pirate king when we were younger, didn’t I?”

Luffy gasps and wraps his arms around you tightly, burying his face in your shoulder. The sudden embrace takes you by surprise, and you feel his mouth moving but you’re unsure of what he’s saying. You welcome his embrace, thinking of all that’s happened since Marineford. Luffy’s been with you since, helping you grow stronger and stray your mind away from what you’ve lost. He’s been doing so well — he makes you laugh about the stupidest things, he’d always defend you from the former monsters of this jungle, he tells you stories from his adventures and you do the same. These past few months, it’s gotten easier to accept and let go of the grief, thanks to him.

“Promise I’ll make it worth it for ya! Thanks for trusting me! Took you such a long time to say yes,” he says as he pulls away from you, smile accompanying his lovely facial features. “We’ll have so much fun! You remember the crew, right? From that time in Alabasta?”

As you and Luffy sit and escape the world around you, you feel a new excitement grow in you. You’re just as ready as he is to reunite with everyone, even if you weren’t a Stawhat before this. For the first time in a long time, you feel free. You don’t feel this way because Ace let you go, but because he pushed you to finding your freedom. And all you can do now is live and hope to achieve all that’s waiting for you.

ᯓ★

You leaned against the railing near the long table, half-listening to the chaos and pretending your eyes weren’t tracking your captain. Your captain.

Shanks was holding court in the center of it all, larger than life, his grin wide enough to swallow the moon. Every laugh he earned seemed to make him glow a little brighter. You knew that look, the one that came before he said something reckless. You could feel it before he even opened his mouth.

And then, he did. “—though between you and me,” he drawled, voice dripping with amusement, “things got a bit cloudy after that.”

The word slid out smooth, deliberate, like honey poured over the rim of a glass. 

Though the people swarming him took it lightly and comedically, you choked. Full-on choked on your drink, coughing so hard that Yasopp nearly dropped his pipe in surprise.

“Oi! You good, sweetheart?” someone called.

You waved them off, throat burning, face blazing hot as laughter rippled through the crew. “Fine!” you croaked, voice rough, “Just— went down wrong.”

Shanks looked right at you. That devilish smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He knew exactly what he’d done.

Your codeword. Cloudy.Born from a night that had started innocent — you teasing him about his habit of describing everything like weather reports. It had ended with his mouth between your thighs, murmuring something about “storms rolling in” as you came undone under him. Ever since, “cloudy” had become shorthand for everything filthy you couldn’t say around the crew.

And now he’d dropped it in public.

The bastard raised his tankard to you across the deck, pretending it was all part of his story. You caught the glint in his eye — teasing, daring you to react.

Two could play that game.

You waited until most of the crew drifted back to their songs and dice games before pushing off the railing. Shanks didn’t look surprised when you approached, just lifted a brow and tilted his head. “You look flushed, love,” he said casually. “Too much to drink?”

You smiled sweetly and leaned in just close enough for only him to hear. “I should throw you overboard.”

“Mm. Romantic.” His grin widened. “Didn’t think you liked it rough.”

You jabbed a finger into his chest. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“I know I am.”

The rest of the crew was too drunk to notice when he caught your wrist — gentle, effortless, commanding. His thumb traced the inside of your palm, a quiet promise under all the noise. “Don’t tell me you forgot what cloudy means, darling.”

You hated how easily your breath hitched. “You’re impossible.”

He leaned in, voice dropping low enough to hum against your skin. “You love me anyway.”

You did. Gods, you did. That was the problem.

Hours later, when the deck was mostly empty and the lanterns had burned low, you found yourself pinned between him and the railing — his coat draped around your shoulders, the sea whispering below. His hand rested at the small of your back, warm and heavy.

“Still mad?” he murmured.

“Maybe.”

He smiled against your jaw. “Would it help if I said it again?”

You gave a warning glare, but he only chuckled. “I'm feeling a bit cloudy, sweetheart,” he whispered, the word curling hot against your ear.

You bit your lip. With a eye roll and a playful scoff, you bit back. “Yeah? And I'm feeling annoyed. You're annoying.”

He nipped lightly at your neck, breath ragged. “And you’re beautiful when you blush. I’d do it again just to see it.”

“During a party?”

“Especially during a party.”

You let out a shaky laugh, half exasperation, half arousal. “You’re lucky your crew and literally the entire world thinks you’re charming.”

“Oh, they know,” he said, kissing your temple. “They just don’t know how much.”

He pulled back, eyes gleaming with that same mischief as before. “Now be honest, love — when I said it, did you think about what I meant?”

You swallowed hard. “Maybe.”

His grin softened into something dangerous. “Then I’d say the codeword’s working just fine.”

you smile but can't help but tease. "rotation? so you're saying i'm just another roster chick?" maki just snickers and changes the topic. "i hear sukuna's been over your house a lot, how about you go for him. he's sexy, tall, tatted up, drives a motorcycle, older, he's easily available-"

"okay, first, he's always been coming round that's nothing new, second he's a fucking asshole, maki. and my brothers best friend. i'd rather choke on naoya's dick than even touch sukuna."

she trys her best not to laugh on the other end, "wow, and that's saying something... can't tell me you haven't thought about it before though, hate-fucking's a thing."

a pulse ran through your body, sure you'd thought about sukuna from time to time. late at night when it was just you and your thoughts, when you could hear him talking shit with toji from down the hall with that deep voice, but the idea disappeared as soon as it came. you shook the thought out of your head before making up some dumb excuse about needing to go get a drink, leaving maki with her teasing thoughts and a dead line.

.

you don’t even think twice when you pad down the stairs, the hardwood cool against your bare feet, hair messy from the afternoon heat. it’s summer and the sun has been baking the house since dawn, so you’ve been living in tank tops and thin pajama shorts for days now.

your first year at university was finally over. no lectures, no assignments, no responsibilities for six whole weeks. just you, your snacks, and the rare bliss of doing whatever you want, legal or not.

the problem is, you’re never alone in this god damned house. someone's always got an eye out for you and your bad habits.

you catch the sound of voices before you even step off the last stair. low, familiar, very masculine.

one of them is unmistakable, that deep rasp you’ve known your whole life. toji, your brother. he always talks like he’s half-amused by something, dragging his words like they’re heavy. but there’s another voice, one that crawls under your skin the second it hits your ears. smoother, sharper, threaded with something smug, sukuna.

of course he’s here. of course he’s sitting in your living room at 4 p.m. like he owns the place.

he's your next-door neighbor, your brother’s best friend, the permanent shadow hovering around your house throwing insults at you every chance he gets.

your families are so tangled together that you swear the twenty something year old spends more time here than in his own home. your mother thinks it’s sweet. your brother calls him convenient. everyone else calls it “brotherly banter” when he’s got your name in his mouth.

but you know better. you know the tone of voice in a man who's a little more protective than he seems on the surface. whenever you get into trouble or any sort of bad situation, parties until sunrise, smoking with maki, messing around with guys, he'd be scolding you alongside your parents and brother like an annoying pest. like he had a right.

you hesitate for only a second at the bottom step, silently praying you can slip into the pantry unnoticed by the older males. but luck has never been your friend where sukuna is involved.

he’s slouched on the couch, one arm draped lazily along the backrest, posture screaming arrogance. broad shoulders stretching the thin fabric of his black tee, tattoos peeking out from under the sleeve, crawling down the veins of his arm. he's the tallest, most intimidating guy you'd ever seen, and that's saying something considering toji's your brother.

6'6 of pure muscle, tattoos and ego.

he glances up the moment your bare legs come into view, gaze dragging slow and unhurried, as if he has every right to look. and god, he does look. from the thin strap of your tank top slipping down your shoulder to the way your shorts barely cover the tops of your thighs. his mouth curls at the corner, sharp and knowing, a predator’s smirk.

“well, look at this,” he drawls, voice thick with amusement, leaning forward just enough to rest his forearms on his knees. “it's your gross little sister.”

your stomach twists.

you should’ve stayed upstairs.

you should’ve thrown on sweats, should’ve remembered that where there’s toji, sukuna is never far behind.

“shut it,” toji cuts in, tone hard and final. "better not think of doing something sketchy, brat." he doesn’t even look up from the beer he’s cracking open, but the warning is there. protective, sharp-edged. your brother’s always been like that, standing between you and anything he doesn’t trust.

"god, can't i grab something to eat without you assholes bouncing on my tip." you push, chucking the ups at sukuna as you walk closer to the kitchen.

"she's got spunk today, i like it."

"i'll kill you bro, shut up." toji retorted, taking a mouthful of his booze.

sukuna doesn’t seem fazed. if anything, his grin only widens, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. “relax, just making an observation.” his eyes flick back to you, trapping you in place like you’re pinned beneath a spotlight. “nothing wrong with appreciation.”

“you just called her gross, how is that appreciation, dick head,” toji rolls his eyes with that bored look.

you hate the way your cheeks heat, the way your pulse stutters under that heavy red stare.

everything about him is designed to get under your skin, the way he walks into your house like he belongs, the way he walks into your room like it's his god given right to, the way his comments toe the line between playful and something deeper. and the worst part? everyone else laughs it off, calls it harmless teasing, except toji ofcourse, but he's not the issue.

you clear your throat, forcing your legs to move, heading straight for the pantry as if you can pretend you’re not burning under sukuna’s gaze. you keep your eyes down, grab the first bag of chips you see, anything to keep your hands busy.

but you can still feel him watching.

the bag of chips crinkles in your grip as you make a beeline for the stairs, heart hammering too fast. you tell yourself you’re annoyed, that you can’t stand the way he opens his mouth and makes your skin burn. but as you climb the steps two at a time, you know that’s only half the truth.

once you leave, the living room becomes quiet before toji decides to speak up.

"that little shit gets into enough trouble as it is, ryo. don't need you winding her up n' making her act up any more."

"oh give it a rest, toji. i look out for her too."

~

your room has always been your little sanctuary. four pale walls lined with half-finished collages, shelves sagging under the weight of manga, paperbacks, and dusty trinkets you’ve collected since you were a kid.

it’s messy in the way that feels comfortable to you, clothes in piles on the chair, half-open notebooks scattered across your desk, fairy lights drooping at uneven intervals across your wall. an uncharacteristically perfect room for someone so notorious for acting up.

your bed is your throne though, a mountain of fluffy blankets and mismatched pillows that swallow you whole.

tonight is no different, you’re sprawled out in the nest, propped up on your elbows with your phone lighting up your face.

your tank top is practically glued to you, pajama shorts riding up as you shift against the sheets.

it’s peaceful. almost.

in the back of your mind, you know he’s still lurking around somewhere, loud and careless and infuriating. and worse, when sukuna sleeps over, it means his presence lingers late into the night, infecting every corner of your house. you tell yourself he’ll stick to your brother’s room, maybe crash on the couch with a beer in hand, but you know better.

you know him.

the crash comes first, the slam of your door against the wall, and your heart jumps into your throat.

“what the hell-" you start, pushing yourself upright, phone slipping out of your hand.

and there he is. filling your doorway like he owns the place, shirtless and smug, tattoos sharp like smoke over skin stretched taut with muscle.

he’s barefoot, sweatpants slung low on his hips, and he looks every inch like he just rolled out of bed, but there’s that grin on his face, hard and deliberate, the kind that promises trouble.

“jesus asshole, ever heard of knocking?” you snap, scrambling upright to pull the hem of your shorts lower and the neck of your top higher.

“knocking?” he repeats lazily, voice rough from sleep, dragging across the room as if he’s already bored. “this house is basically mine, sweetheart. no need to knock when i’m home.”

he says it so casually, like he hasn’t just barged into your space uninvited. like this isn’t your room, your private little haven.

you groan and flop back onto your bed. “get out.”

but he doesn’t leave, of course he doesn’t. instead, he wanders deeper into your room like it’s his personal playground, eyes scanning your shelves, desk, bedspread. he’s cataloguing it all, you can tell, waiting to rip you apart for it.

and then he starts touching.

“sukuna- don’t-” your voice pitches higher as he reaches for the first shelf, dragging his fingers across spines of your manga before yanking one free. he flips through it like it’s a brochure, expression blank, before tossing it onto the floor.

“what the fuck is this? you still into kiddie comics?” he drawls, a lazy look yet his eyes scream with something deeper, possession.

“they’re not comics, fuck face,” you bite out, rushing to pick it up before the pages crinkle.

“sure,” he hums, already moving on. he plucks up a tiny snow globe, shaking it violently so the glitter storm inside whirls, then lets it fall back onto the shelf with a dull clink. “real sophisticated taste you’ve got here. does mommy still buy these for you?”

you clench your fists. it’s the same every time, him tearing through your things like they’re nothing, mocking your choices, dragging you back down to the role of little sister he thinks you’ll never escape.

“sorry i don't collect boring cookie cutter bullshit like the hoes you screw. put it down,” you warn through gritted teeth.

he ignores you, grabbing a stuffed keychain and dangling it from one finger before flicking it across the room.

“stop!” you’re off the bed now, rushing over as he reaches higher.

and then he grabs it. the one thing he shouldn’t.

your fragile glass strawberry sculpture. a stupid gift you picked up at a summer market years ago, delicate and tiny, a perfect little red fruit frozen in glass. it’s silly, but it’s yours, and it’s survived moves, fights, and careless hands until now.

“don’t you fucking dare,” you breathe, voice sharp with panic as he holds it up between two fingers.

sukuna’s grin spreads slow and wicked, his red eyes glittering with recognition of just how much this matters. “this ugly little thing?”

“give it.” you step forward, hand outstretched.

“nah,” he says, lifting it higher, well out of reach. at his full height, he towers over you, arm stretched so easily it might as well be suspended from the ceiling.

“i’m not playing with you, sukuna,” you snap, jumping up, fingers brushing his wrist.

“you think i am?” he teases, shifting just enough to keep it away, his grin deepening as you strain. “c’mon, short stack, jump higher.”

your chest burns with fury. you hate this shit.

“you’re a fucking child,” you spit, trying again, nails catching his skin.

and that’s when he moves.

sudden, dominant. his free hand shoots out, grabs your wrist, and in the next breath your back slams against the wall. the fragile strawberry glints in his other hand as he cages you in, his arm braced beside your head, his body close enough that the heat of him makes your skin prickle. lips so close, one wrong move and they'd connect.

your heart stutters, skips, then races.

he leans down, breath ghosting across your cheek. “careful,” he murmurs, almost too soft. “you’re gonna break it.”

your stomach knots. not just from the glass strawberry but from the weight of him, the deliberate trap he’s set.

“get off me,” you whisper-hiss, trying to twist away, but his grip on your wrist tightens, pinning you.

“funny,” he says, voice lowering to a purr. “you never fight this hard when i’m in your space. makes me think you like it.”

“you’re delusional,” you snap, though your voice cracks.

his grin sharpens. he tilts your chin up with two fingers, forcing your gaze to his. “y’know what else makes me think that?” he drawls, his eyes narrowing with dangerous amusement. “that little phone call you had earlier.”

your blood runs cold.

“what?"

“oh, don’t play dumb, pretty,” he cuts you off, thumb brushing the corner of your jaw. “you really think i couldn’t hear you downstairs? house has paper-thin walls. every word about gojo. geto. about me.”

your chest caves in, shame clawing hot and sharp at your throat.

“that’s… that’s not-”

“don’t bother lying,” he says, pressing closer, his voice like a blade. “you said i was an asshole. that you’d rather choke on naoya’s dick than touch me.” his smile doesn’t reach his eyes now. “real sweet of you to say, by the way. i like to hold myself to a higher standard than that woman-hater.”

your heart slams against your ribs. he heard it all. every reckless word you threw at maki, thinking you were safe.

“sukuna, i didn’t-”

“hurts my feelings,” he interrupts, mocking a pout. “here i thought we had something special. all those years of me giving you my attention, my concern, and you talk about me like that?” his gaze held something below the surface, like what he was saying ran deeper than stupid teasing.

you try to yank your wrist free, but he doesn’t budge.

“you’re insane,” you whisper.

he chuckles low, shaking his head like you’ve said something cute. “maybe. but you know what’s worse, honey?” his grin returns, razor-sharp. “if you don’t drop the attitude, i could tell toji everything.”

your breath catches.

“what-”

“about you fucking gojo and geto,” he says, voice dripping with venomous amusement. “how his precious little sister’s nothing but a slut for his old collage friends. can you imagine the look on his face?”

panic spikes through you, stomach plummeting.

“you wouldn’t,”

“wouldn’t i?” he cuts in, tilting his head. “gojo and geto are a lot older than you, sweetheart. toji wouldn't be too happy about that, and you know me. you know i’d enjoy it. watching him lose his shit, maybe kick your boyfriends’ asses, maybe yours too.” there's a different look behind his eyes, one that looks like anger, almost disappointment as he talks about your past with the boys.

“they’re not my boyfriends-”

“doesn’t matter,” he says, leaning in until his mouth is by your ear. “what matters is, he’d never look at you the same.”

your body trembles, fury warring with fear, with the electric charge of being this close to him, trapped under the weight of his dominance.

“so here’s the deal,” sukuna murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. “you stop running that pretty mouth. you quit with the bitchy attitude you're always giving me, and maybe, just maybe, I can keep my mouth shut about your little summer escapades.”

your teeth clench, nails digging into your palm.

he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes again, grin curling cruelly. “sound fair, brat?”

you don’t even realize you’ve been holding your breath until the word slips past your lips.

“…okay.”

it comes out small, fragile, like it doesn’t even belong to you.

sukuna’s grin spreads slow, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as if he’d been waiting for that single syllable all along. the kind of grin that says he always wins, because of course he does.

“good girl,” he murmurs, voice low and mocking as he finally eases back. his arm drops from the wall, his grip loosens on your wrist, and suddenly the heavy weight of him pinning you is gone.

for a second, your body sways, disoriented by the space he leaves behind.

then, with infuriating carelessness, he lifts the glass strawberry higher into the light, turns it once in his hand like it’s worthless, and-

"hey! dont!-”

you lunge, but it’s too late. he tosses it behind him with a lazy flick of his wrist, like throwing away a scrap of trash.

you scramble past him, diving across your bed to catch it before it shatters on the hardwood. your hands close around it just in time, heart hammering, chest heaving with relief and rage all tangled together.

“asshole,” you whisper under your breath, clutching the fragile thing to your chest.

“hm?” his deep voice cuts through the silence, sharp as a knife.

you freeze. did he hear you? of course he did. his hearing is sharp as hell, you’ve always known that.

but when you turn your head, he’s already at the door, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn, muscles flexing under tattoos. he looks relaxed, almost lazy, like he didn’t just corner you, threaten to ruin your life, and wring a broken promise out of you.

“thought i heard something,” he says lightly, glancing back at you with that smug smirk. “must’ve been a ghost.”

your face burns, but you clamp your mouth shut, refusing to give him another ounce of satisfaction.

he chuckles under his breath, like your silence is an answer all its own, then pads out into the hall without another word. the door swings shut behind him, leaving you alone with nothing but your racing pulse and the strawberry clutched tight in your hands.

for a long moment, you just sit there, knees pulled to your chest, trying to untangle the mess in your head.

you hate him. you hate yourself more for letting your body react the way it does.

your throat tightens. you shove the strawberry back onto the shelf, careful this time, and flop back onto your bed with a groan. the ceiling fan clicks above, steady and useless, but the heat in your chest doesn’t fade.

you tell yourself you’re just angry. that’s all it is.

.

down the hall, sukuna is grinning.

he closes your door behind him with an easy swing, the sound drowned by the low hum of the house. his smirk hasn’t faded, not even as he strolls lazily toward toji’s room, rolling his shoulders like he’s just stretched after a nap.

you’d said okay.

that one little word plays on repeat in his head, each time sweeter, each time bending his grin wider.

you’d folded, just like he knew you would. this was his round about way of trying to make things civil between the two of you. for too long had this constant back and forth been a wrench in his final goal of being on good terms with you, so, forcing you to be 'nice' to him was just the first step in the long run.

he pushes open toji’s door without knocking, slipping inside like it’s second nature. his best friend is sprawled on the bed, phone in hand, looking half-bored and half-irritated.

“took you long enough,” toji mutters, tossing his phone aside. “what, decide to rub one out while you were in the bathroom?”

sukuna snorts, flopping down onto the other end of the bed like he owns the space. “yeah, somethin’ like that.”

toji eyes him, suspicious, but doesn’t press. instead, he grabs a controller off the nightstand and tosses it at sukuna, who catches it with one hand already leaning back against the headboard. the screen glows blue with the fifa menu, music blaring low through the tv speakers.

but before toji hits start, he smirks, leaning back on his elbows. “actually, got a better idea.”

sukuna arches a brow. “yeah?”

“couple girls i’ve been talking to,” toji says casually, like it’s nothing. “they’re down to meet up. thought i’d bring you along. a two man, make a night of it.”

normally, that’s an easy yes. girls are simple, fun, disposable, a guaranteed good time. sukuna never says no to an opportunity like that.

but tonight, his mind stutters.

because when toji says girls, sukuna doesn’t picture nameless faces. he pictures you, pressed up against the wall, eyes wide and furious, lip caught between your pretty teeth.

the way you glared at him. the way you whispered under your breath like it burned your tongue.

his jaw tightens.

“nah,” sukuna says, surprising himself as much as toji. “not feeling it tonight.”

toji frowns. “you? not in the mood for pussy? you sick?”

sukuna scoffs, jabbing a button on the controller. “fuck off. just wanna play fifa.”

toji shrugs, unconcerned. “suit yourself.” he grabs his own controller, starts the match, and within seconds they’re both locked in, banter filling the room.

"hm, by the way, did you see y/n in her room? i'm scared she's snuck out again, doing drugs or whatever the fuck she does when she goes out. heard a rucus before."

sukuna just shrugs. "she's not that out of touch, i mean, the worst thing she's done is sneak out to a few parties, right?"

toji just scoffed. "that's all i tell you about, sure. but bro, that girl is seriously bad news when she's unsupervised. scared she's gonna get herself into some seriously messed up stuff..."

"yeah, tell me about it." his mind shoots back to your phone call with maki, wanting to bang an older guy, your carelessness, the possible dangers such an act could bring for you...

for the rest of the night, sukuna's body plays on autopilot, fingers moving without thought, but his mind keeps slipping back to you. the heat of your room. the way you scrambled for that stupid strawberry like it was worth your life. the sound of your voice cracking.

he knows he’s an asshole, he knows he pushes too far, digs too deep. but that’s the point. he wants to see how far you’ll bend before you break. and tonight, he saw it, just a glimpse. for years he's watched you grow up, do risky shit, fuck risky men at horribly low ages, and it fucks him up. truly.

all he wants is for you to be safe and sound at home with your family, but you clearly had other plans. he saw you as the type who wanted to grow up too fast, too hard. but you in your room, in those pyjamas, looking so at his mercy for a girl so wild...

fuck if it doesn’t make his blood run hot.

he shakes the thought away, biting down on the inside of his cheek.

this isn’t him. he doesn’t linger. doesn’t obsess. doesn’t give a damn about anyone past the moment.

so why the hell is your face burned into the back of his eyelids, even now? after he'd promised himself years ago he would stop fantasising about you?

toji curses beside him, controller rattling as his team misses a shot. sukuna smirks, falling back into the game, letting the noise of fifa drown out the thoughts he doesn’t want to face.

but deep down, beneath the arrogance and the cocky grin, he knows the truth he’ll never admit.

you’ve gotten under his skin.

and that’s a dangerous place for anyone to be, especially someone he can never stop thinking about.

~

"y/n! where the fuck is my razor you little shit!?" your brothers voice booms out thought out the house at a crisp 7.a.m in the morning.

you groan, rub your eyes, and pull yourself out of bed and to your bedroom door to scream back at him. "in the upstairs bathroom!" you yell.

over the sound of the radio in the kitchen and your parents getting ready for work, you hear the loud, over the top groan that toji lets out. you assume he's heading to work, some accounting firm where he somehow does fuck all but gets paid a pretty penny.

you decide to get ready yourself, do somthing nice today as a reward for finishing your first year at uni successfully.

no risky shit, just a clean, honest day out. a nice change of pace.

but the second your brain kicks in, last night comes back to you. sukuna’s weight pinning you to the wall, the way his breath dragged over your ear, the sharp, cruel threat he left you with.

you squeeze your eyes shut. fuck.

you can’t sit here and stew over it. you need air.

so you shower, throw on the prettiest little outfit you own, nice skirt, some stockings, a flattering tank that clings just right, some cute boots, makeup, and perfume that projects. hair done, bag slung over your shoulder.

your plan is simple, go into town, pick up some bits and pieces, and grab yourself a coffee. minimal human contact, just retail therapy and caffeine. easy. low chance of getting into any trouble.

except nothing’s ever easy in this house.

you’re halfway down the stairs when you smell it first, coffee, strong and bitter. then you hear the faint clink of a spoon against ceramic.

your stomach drops.

when you step into the kitchen, there he is. leaning against the counter shirtless, tattoos stretched over broad shoulders and chest, muscles flexing lazily with every move. a mug in one hand, phone in the other, like this is his kitchen and not yours.

he looks up when you walk in. red eyes sweep over you slow, from your sneakers to your glossed lips, and that grin that curls across his face.

“well,” he drawls, voice still rough with sleep. “look who decided to play dress-up this morning.”

you grit your teeth, moving straight for the door. “don’t start.”

he takes a sip of his coffee, watching you over the rim. “just making an observation. you look… different from last night. put a little effort in for once, huh?” his gaze lingers on your legs, smug and knowing. “where you headed, sweetheart?”

“into town,” you answer curtly, shoving your keys into your bag.

“town, huh?” he echoes, like he doesn’t believe you for a second. “dressed like that? lemme guess, you’ve got a little date, maybe with an older guy? one sleazy enough to buy you drugs?”

you stiffen, spinning to glare at him for the reference to your phone call with maki. “no. just shopping and coffee,”

sukuna cocks his head, smirk deepening. “sure. shopping and coffee. sounds like code for dick and illegal shit to me.”

you glare at him and quickly add, "shut up. plus, i'm old enough to buy drugs if i wanted to. i don't need some ancient relic to do it for me."

in usual sukuna fashion, he just rolls his eyes like he doesn't believe a word you say. "yeah right, a dealer wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pole, honey. you're too bait."

your pulse jumps, but you remember his words from last night, the trap he set. no attitude. no lip.

so you clamp up down on the sharp reply on your tongue, force your voice flat. “believe what you want.”

then you’re out the door before you can betray yourself.

behind you, sukuna exhales a laugh that doesn't sound very amused, shaking his head as he tips back the rest of his coffee. deep down, the second you clicked the door shut, his brain flew into panic mode stressing all of the fucked up shit you could be getting into alone.

.

the city is busy, buzzing with the weekend crowd. you weave through clusters of shoppers and couples, duck into the bookstore, and spend way too long scanning the manga shelves until your arms are full.

your reward for surviving the week is a nice expensive coffee.

you head toward your favorite cafe, already tasting the cafine on your tongue. but the second you spot the familiar sign, your steps falter.

because sitting right there at an outdoor table, sipping his drink like something out of a glossy ad, is suguru geto.

black hair tied back in that lazy half-up style, dark eyes sharp even in the morning light. his shoulders broad, his posture relaxed.

he looks good, better than good.

and you can already feel the heat of memories rising. his mouth hot against your neck last summer, his voice low and commanding when he told you exactly how to move for him.

fuck.

you turn on your heel, ready to walk the other way, when a familiar voice slices through the noise.

“no way! y/n?” you freeze.

gojo satoru is striding toward you, white hair a mess, sunglasses perched on his head, a grin that could disarm anyone. tall, lean, built like a muscular ballerina.

and just like that, you’re trapped. just when you were about to finish up a problem-free day.

“well, if it isn’t my favorite girl,” he says, looping an arm around your shoulder before you can protest. “what are the odds, huh?”

“…unlucky, that's what,” you mutter, but he doesn’t hear. or maybe he pretends not to.

before you can blink, you’re being ushered toward the table, dropped right into the seat across from geto, who smiles slow and easy when your eyes meet.

“been a while,” he says, voice deep, smooth as honey.

you’re suddenly seventeen again, pressed between them in the backseat of gojo’s car, their hands everywhere, mouths hot against your skin. your thighs press together under the table, heat rising to your cheeks.

“yeah,” you mumble, clutching your bag like a lifeline..

it’s awkward, painfully so. your cheeks burn as you grip your iced coffee, trying not to think about the nights you spent tangled up with them. first separately, then together. the memory flickers unbidden, gojo’s laugh against your skin, geto’s steady hands, the way they’d pushed boundaries you didn’t even know you had.

they’re older, just like sukuna and toji, maybe a year or two younger, but still men in a way that leaves you feeling young, inexperienced, even when you’ve already proven otherwise.

and they know it.

and they use that power.

“you look incredible,” geto says easily, eyes lingering.

“better than incredible,” gojo cuts in, leaning forward on his elbows. “we were just saying the other day how much weve missed you.”

you swallow hard. “miss me?”

“yeah,” gojo says, grin softening into something hungrier. “miss this pretty face. miss how much fun we all had.”

your thighs press together under the table, heat rushing through you before you can stop it.

geto smirks, low and subtle. “you should come by our place, pretty. come visit. we’d make it well worth your time.”

your heart pounds. you want to laugh it off, deflect, but the way they’re both looking at you, hungry, appreciative, like you’re the only thing in the world that matters, makes it impossible to breathe.

gojo tilts his head, studying you like he’s trying to memorize every detail. “god, you really did grow up, huh? all pretty and put-together now. makes me wonder what else you’ve been hiding from us.” his voice drops, just enough for you to feel the weight of it in your stomach.

geto’s gaze slides down the curve of your body, slow and deliberate. “not hiding. she’s just being wasted on the wrong people.” his eyes flick up to yours, calm and devastating. “we wouldn’t waste you, baby. need some older guys to set you right?”

heat prickles across your chest. your fingers tighten around the condensation-slick cup.

gojo laughs, leaning closer, elbows on the table so his face is inches from yours. “don’t look so shy. we know you much better than that.”

“satoru,” you hiss under your breath, but he only grins wider, shameless as he slips a hand over your trembling thighs.

“what? it’s true. you were wild. couldn’t get enough of the both of us. remember?” he gestures vaguely, like he doesn’t need to specify because you know exactly what he’s talking about.

and you do. the car windows fogged up, geto’s voice in your ear telling you to be good, gojo laughing while his fingers dug into your thighs.

you want the floor to swallow you whole.

geto leans back, calm where gojo is reckless, but his words cut sharper. “don’t pretend you’ve forgotten. we haven’t.”

you suck in a breath, trying to find some anchor, some excuse to leave, but they don’t let up.

“you’re even prettier now,” gojo adds, eyes flicking to your mouth. “dangerously pretty. we were idiots to let you slip away.”

“we should fix that,” geto says, his tone deceptively casual. “no reason we can’t pick up where we left off.”

you shouldn’t be here. not with them. not when sukuna’s threat from last night is still ringing in your ears.

but then, like some cruel twist of fate, you hear it.

the low growl of an engine.

your heart sinks before you even look up.

because parked across the street, astride his black motorcycle, helmet under one arm, is sukuna.

he’s staring right at you.

the world tilts.

he takes his time, swinging one long leg over the bike, setting his helmet down on the seat. then he walks toward the shop, every step confident, predatory. he knows exactly what he’s doing.

gojo and geto don’t even notice until his shadow falls across the table.

“yo,” sukuna greets, voice low, that dangerous grin plastered on his face.

gojo’s head snaps up, then breaks into a wide grin. “no fucking way, ryomen?”

they clasp hands, pulling each other into a dap up like old friends.

“it's been a while,” geto says, standing to clasp his hand too.

“mm, haven't seen you two in a bit,” sukuna hums, leaning against the table like he belongs there.

and then his gaze slides to you.

you sit frozen, heart pounding, wishing the ground would swallow you whole.

“small world,” sukuna drawls, tilting his head. “you three know each other?”

the silence is suffocating. you want to scream at them not to say it, not to ruin you infront of him despite him already knowing, not to hand sukuna the ammunition he’s begging for.

gojo opens his big mouth first. “yeah, we-”

“mutual friends,” geto cuts in smoothly, voice calm, expression unreadable. “ran into each other a couple times.”

sukuna’s eyes narrow. he knows. of course he knows, he told you he knew. but he just smirks, lips curling like a blade. all he wanted was to put these guys heads through the wall, but that would frighten you.

“that so?” he says softly, eyes never leaving yours. “funny. you’d think i’d have heard about that.”

your throat locks.

gojo shifts in his seat, oblivious, but geto holds firm, his lie clean, practiced. “guess it slipped through the cracks.”

sukuna chuckles, low and dark, then pushes off the table. “huh. guess so.”

his smirk lingers as he turns away, but you can feel the weight of his gaze still pinned on you, like he’s already plotting what to do next.

he lets it hang there, brushing it off with the kind of nonchalance that makes your skin crawl. but his eyes, when they flick to you again, burn.

you know he's internally laughing at the lie.

and worse, you know he’s storing this away.

he pulls out his phone and pretends to read a quick message. “looks like your brother’s got timing,” he says suddenly, sliding his phone away into his pocket. “toji just texted. says to bring you home.”

your heart plummets. “what? he doesn't even know i'm-”

“shoosh.” sukuna straightens, already moving toward you. “c’mon, let’s go.”

“hold on-”

but gojo interrupts, frowning behind his sunglasses. “already? we were just catching up.”

“yeah,” geto adds, expression a shade colder, though his tone is still smooth. “huh, what bad timing,”

sukuna shrugs, not even pretending to be sorry. “sorry boys, orders from the top.”

you look between them helplessly, but gojo’s grin softens a little, like he’s trying to reassure you. “guess we’ll have to steal her another time.”

geto leans back in his chair, eyes fixed on you. “you should give us a call when you’re home, y/n.” it’s not a suggestion.

“yeah,” gojo echoes, flashing you a wink. “can't wait for our next encounter."

before you can respond, sukuna’s hand clamps around your arm. firm. possessive. his touch burns through the thin fabric of your sleeve as he hauls you up.

“later,” he tosses over his shoulder to the boys, already dragging you toward the street.

“hey- sukuna!” you hiss, stumbling to keep up. “what the fuck-”

but he doesn’t answer. doesn’t even look at you. he just shoves a helmet into your hands when you reach his bike, jaw clenched, eyes dark.

the air around him is heavy, buzzing with anger. not the lazy, taunting sukuna from earlier. not even the cocky, smug bastard who walked into the café like he owned it. this is something else. something dangerous.

your stomach knots and you hesitate. sukuna when he’s smug, when he’s cocky, you can handle. sukuna when he’s angry? not so much. you’ve seen what he does when he’s pissed off, holes punched in walls, bottles shattered against your kitchen floors when he's mad at your brother. the thought of all that energy turned on you makes your pulse spike.

so, you don’t argue. you slip the helmet on, hands shaking, and climb onto the back of the bike.

he doesn’t wait. the engine roars, and then you’re flying down the street, clutching his back for dear life as he weaves through traffic, faster, faster, until your lungs are tight and your eyes sting behind the visor.

but when you finally reach your neighborhood, he doesn’t pull into your driveway. he slows just enough to swing into his instead, killing the engine with a sharp twist.

confused, you yank the helmet off as you climb off the bike. “why the hell are we at your house?”

“inside,” he cuts you off, tossing his own helmet onto the seat.

you stare at him, anger bubbling through your fear. “no. you don’t get to just drag me out of there, ruin my morning, and then not even take me home. what the fuck is wrong with you?”

he turns to you then, slow, deliberate, his eyes blazing.

“get the fuck inside,” he repeats, low and dangerous.

“sukuna-”

he sighs, scrubs a hand over his face, then leans down so his mouth is right by your ear. “get inside, brat. or i’ll tell toji every little detail about last summer. every. single. one.”

your breath catches.

he straightens, watching your face crumble, the victory already written in his smirk.

your legs move before your brain catches up, carrying you up his porch steps and through the door.

you whirl on him, voice sharp. “why are you doing this? what is your problem?!”

sukuna leans back against the door, arms folded, eyes boring into you.

“you really don’t get it, do you?”

“no, i don’t!” you shout. “you barge in, ruin my morning, drag me here like some caveman, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

his laugh is humorless, bitter. “what’s wrong with me? what’s wrong with you?”

“excuse me?”

he pushes off the door, crossing the space in two long strides. his size dwarfs you, tattoos shifting as his arms flex, voice rising.

“you think you’re grown, huh? think you can dress up all pretty, go prancing around town, hang around guys who are almost four years older than you like it’s nothing?” his face twists, fury sharp. “you’re fucking naive.”

your chest tightens. “i didn’t even mean-”

“don’t lie to me.” he roars, slamming his hand against the wall beside your head. you flinch, breath catching. his eyes are wild, mouth twisted in a snarl.

“i saw the way they were looking at you. i know the shit they’ve done to you. you think those sleezy bastards give a fuck about you? they don’t. they just want what’s between your legs.”

your chest heaves. “they just happened to be there! i didn’t-”

“bullshit!” he slams his hand against the wall beside your head, the sound making you flinch. “you’re too fucking young, that’s your problem. you think they want you for you? wake the fuck up."

your throat tightens. his words slice through you, cruel and raw.

“you think it’s fine, don’t you?” he presses, voice rising. “letting twenty-one-year-old men fuck you when you were so young? you think that’s normal?” his tone is full of disgust, but you pick up on the undertones, and they sound a lot like jealousy.

“no! it’s fucked,” he bites out, jaw tight. “it’s so fucking messed up. do you even realize what you let happen? or are you too busy pretending it makes you grown?”

you shake your head, tears threatening, but he doesn’t relent.

his hand grips your chin suddenly, forcing you to look at him. his eyes blaze, red and unyielding.

your eyes sting. “stop-”

“no, shut up and listen for once,” he growls, grabbing your chin, forcing your gaze up to his. “you wanna play adult? fine. then act like one. stop being so goddamn reckless. stop letting creeps twice your size use you up and trade you around like pokémon cards. take care of yourself.” he pauses, his eyes shifting.

“because if you don’t, someone else is gonna make that choice for you. and trust me, you won’t like it.”

your breath shudders out of you, chest tight, caught between shame, fear, and something else you don’t dare name.

this isn’t the teasing, cocky sukuna who always gets under your skin. this is something rawer, angrier, protective in a way that twists your insides.

you glare up at him, heat rising in your throat. “why?”

he blinks. “what?”

“why the hell do you care so much about me, sukuna?” your voice cracks, equal parts fury and desperation. “you act like i’m your fucking responsibility. like you get to control where i go, who i talk to. why do you even give a shit? you're just some stupid guy who follows my brother around!”

for the first time tonight, he falters. just for a second. then his jaw locks tight, expression dark.

“because i care about your safety,” he growls. “because it made my fucking skin crawl when i heard you on the phone talking about how you let those idiots fuck you, bragging about wanting older guys like it was nothing.”

your eyes widen. “god can you just drop it-”

“no! no, i can't,” he cuts you off, voice sharp as glass. “you think i enjoyed listening to that? you think i liked picturing those two bastards putting their hands on you?” his lip curls, disgust twisting his features. “you’re a fucking kid, y/n.”

rage spikes through you, wiping away the sting of shame. “a kid?” you spit, shoving at his chest. “you don’t get to call me that, not when you’re dragging me into your house like you own me, pinning me against walls, getting all up in my space like you’re about to take advantage of me yourself.”

his nostrils flare, muscles going taut.

“what’s the difference, huh?” you press, voice rising. “you’re older than gojo and geto. you treat me like your toy just as much as they did. tell me, how are you any different?”

for a moment, silence.

then he explodes.

“don’t you dare compare me to them,” he snarls, slamming his palm against the wall beside your head for the nth time, the sound reverberating through the house. you flinch, but his eyes are locked on yours, burning.

“i wouldn’t use you up and toss you aside like they did. i wouldn’t leave you fucked out and broken just to move on to the next piece of ass.” his voice cracks with rage, raw and unfiltered. “i’ve known you for years. i’ve been there, watching, worrying, while you pulled your ridiculous little stunts. i give a fuck about you even when you think i don’t.”

his chest rises and falls hard, like every word is ripped from him.

your lips part, stunned.

“do you have any idea what it felt like,” he presses, quieter now, but no less vicious, “knowing you were within arms reach, so close yet you still managed to get yourself into a situation like that without anyone knowing, you let those sick fucks touch you, they took advantage of you while you were too naive to see it, and it makes me sick that i was one door away from stopping it.”

you swallow hard, throat tight.

he leans closer, so close you can see every fleck of red in his eyes, every tense line in his jaw.

“i’d rather burn this whole fucking city down than see you let someone like them use you again.”

the room is silent except for your uneven breaths, his towering figure caging you in, his fury crashing against your own.

and then you laugh. soft, broken.

“you really think you’re any better?” your voice trembles, but you keep your chin high. “you walk into my space, throw my shit around, talk to me like i’m worthless. you make me feel small every other day. you don’t care about me, sukuna, you just like having power over me.”

his eyes flash.

“power?” he bites out.

you push on, reckless. “you’re obsessed with controlling me. admit it. you don’t want me safe, you want me scared. you want me to need you.”

his hand shoots out, gripping your jaw tight enough to sting. your breath hitches, but you refuse to look away.

“you think that’s what this is?” he hisses. “me wanting control? me getting off on scaring you?” his thumb digs into your chin, holding you still. “if that’s what i wanted, i’d have taken you already. i’d have ruined you years ago. and don’t fucking lie, you know i could of.”

your pulse slams against your throat. his words coil hot and dark inside you, terrifying and intoxicating all at once.

his grip eases, but he doesn’t pull back. his voice drops, low and guttural.

“the difference between me and them? i give a shit what happens to you. i’ve been there every time you fucked up, even when you hated me for it. those clowns just wanted to stick their dicks in you and leave, i'm gonna be here forever.”

you can’t speak. your body trembles, pressed tight to the wall, every nerve ending alive.

and then his eyes soften. barely. but it’s enough.

“you drive me insane,” he mutters, words spilling before he can stop them. “if you knew how long i spent thinking of you, worrying. i’d never let anyone fuck you over like that again, not those fuckwits, not even myself.”

your breath catches. something shifts in your chest, sharp and terrifying.

you shouldn’t understand him. you shouldn’t feel the way you do now, heat curling low in your stomach, shame and longing tangled together.

but you do.

because beneath all the insults, the threats, the control, you’ve always felt the difference. sukuna never looked at you the way other guys did. not like prey. not like a quick fuck. his attention was heavier, more dangerous.

you hate it. you crave it.

your lips part, words slipping out before you can stop them. “maybe i don’t want you to hold back.”

his eyes darken instantly.

for a moment, you’re both still. your breaths tangled, heat between you palpable, magnetic. his face inches from yours, so close you can taste his air, feel the brush of his skin.

he tilts his head, gaze flicking down to your mouth. your heart stops as his lips brush yours for no longer than a second.

the world narrows to the space between you.

and then- he pulls back.

his hand drops from your face, his body turning away like the nearness burned him.

you sag against the wall, chest hollow.

he runs a hand over his face, muttering a curse under his breath. his fists clench, then unclench.

“this is fucked,” he growls.

your throat tightens. “sukuna i-”

“don’t,” he snaps, but softer than before. his eyes flick back to you, conflicted, stormy. “just… don’t.”

silence stretches. your pulse still thrums, the ghost of his touch lingering on your skin.

finally, he exhales. heavy. “we can’t… i can’t.”

your heart aches, but you nod.

there’s no truce, not exactly. but there’s something. an understanding. an acknowledgment of the dangerous line you’ve both been toeing.

he moves toward the door, shoulders stiff, pausing only once. “you can go, just- dont get into anymore shit. and don’t make me regret telling you any of this.”

and then he’s gone, leaving you against the wall, reeling.

~

night comes way too slowly, toji's still at work as your parents blast some late night tv drama downstairs, and you're lying halfway off the side of your bed with your phone screen pressed to your ear.

“so… let me get this straight.” maki’s voice comes through, low and dry. “you went to a café. bumped into gojo and geto-”

“by accident,” you add, cutting her off.

“sure. and then sukuna shows up out of nowhere, drags you out like some caveman, takes you to his house, screams at you for being… what? naive?”

you groan, pressing the heel of your hand to your forehead. “don’t say it like that, it sounds worse when you-”

“and then,” she plows on, completely ignoring you, “you two almost kissed?”

“oh my god, maki.” you bury your face into the pillow, voice muffled. “can you not?”

there’s a pause, then a laugh bursts through the speaker, loud and sharp. maki’s laugh is never pretty; it’s always mean, like she’s pointing at you through the phone. “holy shit, you’re serious. sukuna actually almost kissed you. your brother’s scary-ass best friend. the guy who makes a sport out of tormenting you every time he’s over.”

you sit up, clutching the phone tighter. “he didn’t! not really. it was just, like... a moment. i don’t even know what it was. he got all pissed at me, yelling about how i’m reckless and i need to act like an adult, and then he…” your voice falters. “…he said all this deep shit, maki. stuff i didn’t think he cared about. like he actually gave a fuck.”

for once, maki doesn’t immediately bite back. you hear her exhale, the faint rustle of her sheets. “sounds like he cares a little too much.”

your stomach flips. “don’t say that.”

“why not? you’ve been whining about him for years, and now the second he gets real with you, you’re suddenly shy? please.”

you flop onto your back again, glaring at the ceiling. “it’s not like that. he’s- he’s toji’s best friend. he’s older. he’s…”

“hot?” maki supplies flatly.

heat crawls up your neck. “i didn’t say that.”

“you didn’t have to. you should’ve heard your voice just now. god, you sound like every dumb girl with a crush.” she snorts. “this is hilarious.”

you groan, shoving your pillow over your face. “i’m so screwed.”

“no, you’re not.” maki’s tone shifts, not softer exactly, but steadier. “look. sukuna’s an asshole, i’ll give you that. but he’s not gojo or geto. he’s not gonna sweet-talk you, fuck you, and then vanish. if he wanted that, he would’ve done it already. hell, you’ve basically been bait dangling in front of him for years, and he hasn’t touched you. that’s… saying something.”

you peek out from under the pillow. “…he said something like that too.”

“see? told you. maybe he was waiting for you to stop being jailbait, now you're grown? he's taking his chance.”

“but he’s so…” you trail off, words stuck in your throat. how do you explain the way his anger felt less like rage and more like panic? how his words, cruel as they were, carried something heavier beneath them? how his almost-kiss felt less like a mistake and more like the edge of something inevitable?

“…so what?” maki presses.

“intense,” you whisper. “it’s like, he makes me feel so small, and i hate it, but at the same time… i don’t. like, i can’t stop thinking about it. about him.”

silence. then another laugh, this one slower, more knowing. “oh my god. you actually like him.”

you jolt. “i don’t.”

“yes, you do.” she’s smug as hell, you can hear it. “listen to yourself. you’re crushing hard. on sukuna. and honestly? i say go for it.”

your eyes widen. “are you insane? toji would kill me. he’d kill him. my parents-”

“who cares?” maki cuts in. “when have you ever cared about rules before? besides, if sukuna wanted to just use you, he would’ve. and he didn’t. instead, he’s yelling about your safety and trying not to kiss you. that’s not on some casual shit. that’s him being hung up on you.”

your heart stutters. you roll onto your side, curling into yourself. “…you really think so?”

“i know so,” she says simply. “and if you’re crushing this hard already, you’re not gonna shake it. so either you own it, or you keep denying it until it eats you alive.”

you bite your lip, staring at the dark corner of your room. owning it feels terrifying. but denying it feels impossible. sukuna’s face keeps flashing behind your eyelids, the fire in his eyes, the grip of his hand on your jaw, the ghost of his lips against yours.

“shit,” you whisper, more to yourself than her. “i think i really like him.”

maki hums, satisfied. “good. about time you admitted it.”

you groan into your pillow again, but this time, the sound is half-laugh. “you’re the worst.”

“i know,” she says, smug. “but at least i’m right.”

~

the weeks that follow are nothing short of torture.

not the kind you’re used to, though. not sukuna’s constant barbs thrown across the living room, the digs at your clothes or the way you roll your eyes, the lazy, sharp grins when he pushes you just far enough to rile you up. no, this is different. this is silence.

at first, you think maybe he’s planning something. a long game. a new way to drive you insane. but the longer it goes on, the more obvious it becomes: sukuna’s avoiding you.

he doesn’t tease. doesn’t smirk. doesn’t even look at you the way he used to, that infuriating glint in his eyes like he knows every single thing you’re too afraid to say out loud. now, when you walk into a room, he just stiffens. looks away. sometimes, if you’re lucky, you’ll catch the faintest pink at his ears before he hides it with a scowl.

and you hate it.

sukuna’s whole presence has always been overwhelming. loud, cocky, sharp edges cutting into everything he touches. but without it, without him pressing your buttons at every turn, the house feels… wrong. too quiet. too still.

he still comes over, of course. he and toji are glued at the hip, always have been. you hear his laugh from the kitchen, deep and grating, when he’s with your brother. he jokes easily with your parents. it’s only you he can’t seem to deal with.

and the worst part? you know why.

he thinks he’s doing the right thing. you can see it in the way he keeps his distance, like being near you is dangerous. like one more step closer and he’ll lose whatever fragile control he’s clawed together since that night in his house.

what you don’t see, what you can’t see, is the war raging in his head.

.

in sukuna’s mind, it’s simple, he fucked up.

he shouldn’t have let himself get that close. shouldn’t have let the heat of the moment, your wide eyes and sharp words, push him into something reckless. he should’ve shut it down before it started. should’ve kept the walls up like he always has.

you’re his best friend’s little sister, you're only 18. five or so years younger. too young for him to even think about this shit with.

and yet, he can’t stop.

it’s like the more he tells himself no, the worse it gets. his brain replays every second of that day on a loop. the way your breath hitched when he grabbed your jaw. the sting in your voice when you demanded to know why he cared. the almost-kiss he still feels burning on his lips even though it never happened.

he hates himself for it. he’s always been selfish, sure, but not like this. not with you.

so he avoids. he keeps his distance, forces himself to act normal. it’s hell, but it’s safer.

because if he lets himself slip. if he gives in, even once, he knows he won’t stop.

.

you notice it worse at night. when the house settles, when everyone else is too busy or too tired to notice how weird things have gotten.

like tonight.

toji’s mindlessly playing video games, your parents in their room downstairs. sukuna’s staying over, stretched out on the couch, the flicker of the tv lighting his tattoos. you can see him from the hallway, broad shoulders slouched, one hand rubbing at his face like he’s tired but won’t admit it.

normally, you’d poke at him. steal the blanket just to watch him snap at you. but now? he doesn’t even glance up when you walk by.

your jaw tightens. enough is enough.

you wait. patient. biding your time. and when you hear the floor creak, the sound of him heading toward the bathroom, you move.

your room’s right beside it, the timing perfect. you slip out, grab his wrist before he can even register it, and yank.

“the fuck-”

the door shuts. the lock clicks. the light stays off.

you’ve got him cornered in the dark.

“what the hell, brat?” his voice is low, sharp. defensive.

you stand your ground, pressing your back to the door. “why won’t you talk to me?”

he scoffs, but it’s shaky. “jesus. you’re insane.”

“don’t do that.” your voice cuts, firmer than you feel. “don’t brush me off. you’ve been avoiding me for weeks. you won’t even look at me anymore.”

“good,” he snaps. “maybe you’ll get the hint.”

your chest tightens. “what hint?”

“that this,” he growls, gesturing vaguely between you, “whatever the fuck you think is happening, can’t. it’s wrong.”

the words hit like a slap.

“wrong?” you whisper.

he exhales hard, dragging a hand over his face. “you’re my best friend’s little sister. you’re- fuck, you’re too young. i can’t,” he breaks off, jaw clenched.

“bullshit.” you push off the door, stepping closer until you can just make out the faint outline of his frame in the dark. “that’s bullshit, sukuna. you’ve never cared about what’s right or wrong a day in your life.”

he laughs, humorless. “yeah, well, i do now.”

“why?” you challenge, closing the gap between you. “why do you care so much? you can’t just act like nothing happened and then shut me out. we’re close, sukuna. we’ve always been close. so talk to me. tell me what the fuck changed.”

his silence is deafening. you can almost hear his thoughts tearing him apart, the push and pull inside his head.

he wants you. god, he wants you so badly it makes him sick. every inch of him screams to grab you, to press you up against the sink and take what he’s been denying himself for weeks. but the other half? the half that knows how dangerous this is, holds him back.

“drop it,” he says, voice low, frayed like rope pulled to breaking.

“no.” your chin lifts, defiance burning in your chest. “i’m not letting you ignore me. not after everything you said.”

“y/n-”

“no, sukuna!” your voice cracks, too loud, bouncing against the bathroom walls. “you don’t get to yell at me about my choices, act like you care so much, and then pretend i don’t exist. that’s not fair. i deserve to know why.”

the snap is instant.

he moves like a storm breaking, sudden, unstoppable. two strides and he’s on you, palm clamping over your mouth, your back hitting the cold porcelain of the sink. the edge digs into your hips, the sharp sting grounding you in the middle of the chaos.

his body crowds yours, heat radiating, tattoos flickering in the faint strip of light under the door.

“shut. up.” the words rasp out, guttural, his breath hot against your ear. “you don’t get it. you don’t fucking get it.”

your pulse slams against his hand. the air’s thick, suffocating, but it’s not fear that roots you in place, it’s him. the strength in his grip, the tremor in his voice. intoxicating.

his forehead drops to yours, close enough that you can feel the scrape of his breath on your lips. his hand still silences your protest, fingers splayed firm across your jaw.

“you think i don’t want this?” he growls, barely more than a whisper, like the confession itself could ruin him. “you think i don’t want you?”

your eyes widen, muffled sound catching under his palm.

“i do,” he spits, ragged, broken. “so fucking bad it’s killing me. you’re in my head every damn second. i can’t fucking sleep without seeing you. i can’t sit in your house without wanting to drag you somewhere dark like this and-” he cuts himself off, sucking in a shuddered breath, the restraint rattling his frame.

his thumb twitches against your cheek, like it aches to stroke instead of restrain.

“you’re all i can fucking think about, y/n.” the words drip with hunger, and for a second, you swear he’s going to break. his eyes flick to your mouth, linger there, heavy and dangerous.

your knees weaken, but his body pins you upright.

“then why,” your muffled voice fights against his hand, desperate, trembling.

he rips it away like it burns him.

“because i can’t have you,” he bites out, staggering back half a step, fists curling at his sides. his chest heaves, muscles taut, like it takes every ounce of him not to reach back for you.

“why not?” you demand, the words tumbling out sharp, urgent. “why the hell not, sukuna? if you want me, then-”

“because it’s wrong!” he explodes, cutting you off. his voice cracks like thunder, raw and brutal. “you’re toji’s little sister. you’re eighteen. you’re- you’re fucking off-limits, y/n. don’t you get that?”

the words crash over you like glass, cutting deep.

“off-limits?” your voice wavers. “so i’m just, what? a kid to you?”

his laugh is hollow, humorless, twisted with pain. “no. that’s the fucking problem. you’re not a kid to me. not anymore.”

the admission hangs in the air, thick and heavy.

you step forward, reckless, fire blazing in your chest. “then stop acting like it. stop pushing me away like i don’t matter. i’m not a child, sukuna. i know what i want.”

his jaw clenches, muscles jumping. “you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“i do.” your voice is firm, even as your insides shake. “i want you.”

the room tilts. he stares at you like you’ve torn him open, like every piece of him is fighting to hold back.

his hand shoots out, gripping the edge of the sink behind you, caging you in without touching you. his face is inches from yours, teeth gritted, eyes burning.

“you don’t get it,” he rasps. “if i have you, even once, i won’t stop. i won’t let you go. i’ll ruin you, y/n. you think you’re ready for that? you think you’re ready for me?”

the words should scare you, but they don’t. they ignite something deep, dangerous.

your lips part, trembling. “try me.”

he sucks in a breath, ragged, his forehead dropping to yours again. for a heartbeat, everything tilts, the air, the silence, the unbearable closeness. his lips hover a breath away, the heat of him burning against your skin.

you close your eyes. waiting. begging.

but it doesn’t come.

instead, his voice drops, guttural and wrecked.

“no.”

your eyes snap open. his stare cuts you clean in half.

“i can’t.” the words are shards, each one slicing deep. “i can’t give you what you want. not now. not ever. this-” his voice fractures, but he forces it steady. “this ends here.”

your throat tightens, the ache crawling up until it burns your eyes. “sukuna-”

“don’t.” he steps back fully, ripping the heat of his body away from yours. the cold rushes in where he stood, suffocating. “don’t make this harder than it already is. i said no. and that’s final.”

the finality in his tone is devastating. like a door slamming shut. like a blade twisting.

“so what now?” your voice is barely a whisper. “you just ignore me? pretend none of this ever happened?”

his jaw ticks, his eyes hard. “yeah. exactly that.”

the cruelty of it knocks the air from your lungs.

“sukuna!”

“enough.” his voice cracks, but the word lands like a gunshot. “you need to drop this. for both our sakes.”

the silence after is brutal.

then his hand, trembling, drops away completely. he spins, shoving the lock open with a snap. the door creaks, light spilling into the suffocating dark.

and just like that, he’s gone.

the door clicks shut behind him, his shadow disappearing down the hall, leaving you stranded.

your chest heaves, the echo of his words clawing through your ribs.

you grip the sink so tight your knuckles ache, the porcelain biting into your palms.

he said he wanted you. admitted you were all he thought about. and then he cut you down with a finality that left you gutted.

alone.

rejected.

if he won’t look at you, then fuck it. you’ll find someone else who will.

~

your spiral starts slow.

a party here, a risky blunt there. late nights you know you shouldn’t be out, people you know you shouldn’t be with. you’ve always had a rebellious streak, but this time it’s different. this time, you’re not just looking for fun, you’re looking to numb.

and the first time toji catches wind of it, he’s pissed.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” he snarls, arms crossed as he stands in your doorway. “sneaking out in the middle of the night? going to parties with people you don’t even know? are you trying to get yourself killed?”

you roll your eyes, throwing yourself back on your bed. “jesus, toji, i’m not a kid anymore. stop acting like i am.”

“you’re acting like one,” he fires back. “and i’m not gonna sit here and watch you throw yourself into shit you can’t handle.”

“i can handle it,” you snap, bitterness rising. “not like you’d know. you’re too busy with your own shit to even notice me half the time.”

that one lands. you see the flash of hurt in his eyes before he storms out, muttering curses under his breath.

but it doesn’t stop you.

if anything, it pushes you further.

more parties. more trouble. more risky decisions that would’ve terrified you a year ago. and every time, you come home with that hollow pit in your stomach, pretending it’s fine. pretending you don’t care.

.

because toji notices, sukuna does too.

toji would casually mention your attitude when he and sukuna were hanging out, but then the stories get worse. the night you came home drunk. the fight you picked with him. the random numbers texting your phone.

sukuna listens, silent. jaw tight, fists clenched, a muscle in his cheek twitching as he grinds his teeth.

he shouldn’t feel this angry. you’re not his problem. you’re not his sister. you’re not his responsibility.

and yet, every word out of toji’s mouth feels like a knife to the gut.

because deep down, he knows it’s his fault.

he lit the match, gave you hope when he should’ve shut it down completely. and now, you’re burning for it. acting out, pushing limits, looking for attention in all the wrong places.

you’re self-destructing, and he’s the reason why.

.

it all comes to a head one night in toji’s room.

the game console hums quietly, gta paused on the tv. toji’s sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. sukuna’s leaned against the dresser, arms crossed, watching his best friend unravel.

“i don’t know what the fuck to do with her anymore,” toji admits, voice low, rough. “she’s always been a brat, yeah, but lately? it’s worse. she’s reckless. sneaking out, hanging with guys i don’t trust... i’m worried, man.”

sukuna swallows hard, staying quiet.

“she’s not a dumb child anymore, i get that,” toji continues, dragging a hand down his face. “but she’s still my little sister. and the shit she’s doing? it’s not just stupid, it’s dangerous. i feel like i’m losing her.”

sukuna’s chest tightens.

he wants to tell him everything. wants to admit that he knows why you’re spiraling, that he’s the one who hurt you. but the words stick in his throat like poison.

instead, he clenches his jaw and says nothing.

because how the fuck could he explain it?

hey, bro, your little sister’s acting out because i cornered her in the bathroom, told her i wanted her, then rejected her like it meant nothing.

yeah. no.

so he listens. and he burns.

burns with guilt. burns with anger. burns with the kind of helpless frustration that makes his hands twitch, like he needs to smash something just to let it out.

because toji’s scared, and sukuna knows he should be.

you’re spiralling out of control.

and it’s his fault.

~

"n/nnnn, c'mon! we'll only stay for a few hours, it'll be a fun way to end the weekend." maki had been talking your ear off about coming to some house party on the other side of town for around half an hour now, and with each sentance you were becoming more and more into it, she was a really bad influence.

"hot guys, free drinks, weed, what more could you want?" she adds.

"we don't even go to that university, we wouldn't know anyone." you retest, but ofcourse, she has an answer for everything.

"suguru and satoru are going."

...

"god, i hate you." but, unfortunately, that was all you needed to be swooned.

maybe it was apart of you that wanted to pay a final fuck you to sukuna and bang the guys he had been so worried about you getting involved with, but it was also just a good situation. one where you didn't feel like a desperate ex calling them up wanting a quick lay, you just so happened to be going to a party they were going to, no desperation involved. you glanced at the clock, 10.p.m, perfect. "okay i'll meet you outside at like, eleven."

.

the house is dead silent when you slip out, not the kind of tense silence you’re used to, where sukuna’s shadow lurks on the couch and toji’s muttering curses at his video game.

no, tonight’s different. the living room’s empty, the tv dark, the whole place still in a way that feels almost suspicious.

you pause in the hallway, shoes dangling from your fingers. normally, this would be the part where sukuna’s voice cuts through the dark, low and sharp, 'where the fuck do you think you’re going?' or toji stomping out of his room like a storm cloud.

but nothing.

you creep past toji’s door, listen. no movement inside. check the couch, empty. you even peek toward the kitchen, expecting sukuna’s tall frame leaning against the counter, waiting to catch you.

still nothing.

they’re not here.

a weird thrill rolls through you, sharp and reckless. it shouldn’t be this easy. it’s never this easy. but for once, they’re both gone, probably holed up at sukuna’s place across the street, drowning in beers and whatever bullshit guys like them talk about when you’re not around.

“perfect,” you whisper, smirking to yourself as you shove your shoes on and slip out the front door.

the night air is crisp, cool against your flushed skin. it feels like freedom, like trouble wrapped in a bow. maki’s waiting at the end of the block, leaning against her car with her phone in hand, one eyebrow raised when she sees you jogging over.

“damn,” she whistles. “that was fast. thought i’d be waiting twenty minutes for you to sneak out.”

you grin, tugging the car door open. “house was empty. like, empty empty. kinda freaked me out, honestly.”

maki snorts as you climb in. “well, don’t question it. take the win.” she throws the car into gear, the engine humming as she pulls onto the street. “besides, it’s like the universe wants us to party tonight.”

you roll your eyes, but there’s no hiding the smile tugging at your mouth. “you’re a bad influence.”

“and you love me for it.”

.

the air is thick with sweat, cheap beer, and smoke, bodies pressed close together, music pounding so loud you can feel it in your ribs. it’s nothing like the frat parties maki usually drags you to, it’s more intimate, the kind of house party that feels like everyone knows everyone, except for you two.

“see? told you this would be better than some stupid frat thing you wanted to go to,” maki grins, already tugging you deeper into the chaos. “real college kids. real fun.”

you laugh, rolling your eyes, but there’s a buzz in your chest, a mix of nerves and excitement. “yeah, yeah. we’ll see. hopefully they don't realise we're from the college across the way.”

the kitchen is crammed with people playing beer pong, the counters littered with red cups and half-empty bottles. maki beelines for the drinks, pouring herself something dull and shoving a cup into your hand.

“to shitty decisions,” she says, clinking yours with hers.

you smirk. “to even shittier influences.”

the burn of alcohol slides down your throat, warmth spreading instantly. the music shifts, someone turning it up even louder, and maki is already tugging you toward the living room where bodies move like a tide, dancing, grinding, spilling their drinks.

you let yourself sink into it. for once, you don’t think about sukuna’s scowl or toji’s lectures or the way your house has felt like a minefield lately. you just move, laugh, drink, and let maki spin you in circles until you’re dizzy.

hours blur. the party swells. you’re glowing, tipsy, hair sticking to your neck, and maki disappears into the crowd, pulled toward some guy shouting her name.

you don’t even notice until you’re left standing near the edge of the dance floor, drink empty, pulse buzzing.

and that’s when you feel it.

two sets of eyes. heavy. familiar.

you turn, and there they are.

suguru geto and satoru gojo.

they look almost out of place here, a tad older, sharper, more put-together than the drunk college kids spilling beer down their shirts. geto’s leaning casually against the wall, dark hair tied back, a lazy smirk on his mouth. gojo’s beside him, tall and broad, pale hair a messy halo under the dim lights, sunglasses perched on his head like he owns the room.

“well, well,” gojo drawls, eyes dragging over you shamelessly. “didn’t expect to see you here, sweetheart.”

your stomach flips, heat licking up your neck, you were here for them. you force yourself to smirk. “what, you two crash college parties often?”

“only when the scenery’s worth it,” geto says smoothly, his gaze unapologetically slow as it travels down your body and back up. “looks like tonight’s our lucky night.”

you scoff, but your chest tightens. you came here for them. you can’t pretend you didn’t.

gojo steps closer, towering, the smell of cologne and something stronger clinging to him. “you look good,” he says, tone dropping just enough to curl around your spine. “real good. a shame we never got a call from you after that little run in at the coffee shop.”

your breath hitches, but you mask it with sarcasm. “i'm a busy girl, you know.”

“hmm,” gojo smirks. “i'm sure you are.”

geto chuckles, low and rich. “we were talking about you earlier, actually.”

your brows lift. “oh yeah? should i be flattered or worried?”

“flattered,” geto says without missing a beat, leaning in close enough that his lips nearly brush your ear. “definitely flattered.”

your pulse kicks hard.

it’s reckless, dangerous, but god, it feels good. after weeks of being ignored, of sukuna’s rejection echoing in your chest, the attention feels like a drug, different to the lazy good looking douches you've been entertaining, no. this was like comparing marijuana to heroin.

“god, you're so pretty, y/n,” gojo teases, catching the tension in your shoulders. “seriously, we've missed you.” his grin widens, wolfish.

your laugh comes out shaky. “well, aren't you two forward, don't hold back, huh?”

“what’s the point?” geto shrugs, eyes glinting. “life’s too short to dance around what you want.”

your throat goes dry. the voice in the back of your head, sukuna’s voice, sharp and scathing hisses that this is exactly what he warned you about. two older guys who’ll use you, chew you up, and spit you out.

but you shove it down.

because right now, under their gaze, you feel wanted. needed. desired in a way that makes your whole body hum.

“so,” gojo drawls, tilting his head, “you here alone, or…?”

you smirk, feigning bravado. “does it matter?”

“not really,” geto answers, eyes dark. “just means we don’t have to share.”

heat coils in your stomach. your skin prickles under their attention, the air between you crackling.

gojo leans closer, voice dropping. “tell us the truth, sweetheart. did you come here hoping to find us?”

your lips part, but no sound comes out.

geto saves you the trouble. “because we were hoping to find you. maki told us beforehand you were showing up.”

'that little four eyed liar! she set this up.'

the words are silk and smoke, wrapping tight around you.

your chest heaves. you should walk away. you should remember every warning, every scolding, every time sukuna’s voice told you this exact thing would happen.

instead, you tip your chin up. “maybe.”

gojo grins like he’s won something. “knew it.”

geto chuckles, satisfied. “what a smart girl.”

they close in, one on either side, the world narrowing until all you can see, all you can feel, is them. the crowd, the music, the party, it all fades.

gojo’s breath fans your cheek. “so, what’s it gonna be?”

geto’s voice is velvet at your other ear. “gonna let us take care of you?”

your pulse is a drum, your head spinning with alcohol, lust, and reckless defiance.

"please."

.

“yo, kuna.”

across the party, sukuna jerks his head up at the sound of his name.

the rooms loud, but he’s not paying much attention. he and toji showed up less than an hour ago, the place already reeking of booze and sweat. toji’s in his element, laughing with some girl draped over his arm, but sukuna’s on edge, restless.

“you look like shit,” toji snorts, handing him a fresh drink. “you need to relax, man. fuck a girl, blow off some steam. i saw one of your old flings here, red dress, big tits, you should go for it.”

sukuna grunts, barely glancing in the direction toji nods.

normally, he’d say fuck it. normally, he’d already have the girl pressed against a wall whispering dirty things down her neck.

but tonight, something nags at him. a weight in his gut he can’t shake, like something's wrong, really wrong.

still, he forces himself to move, weaving through the crowd toward the girl in red. toji had dragged him here earlier, saying they needed to bang something bad to get rid of the stress they'd both been feeling lately. he'd agreed, not thinking anything of it. but now? all he can focus on is whatever bad thing you could be doing at the moment, out doing god knows what with god knows who.

just as he's about to plaster on a devilish smirk and wrap an arm around his old fling, he sees you.

your laugh, high and shaky, carries over the music. he spots you wedged between two tall figures, and his blood goes cold.

gojo. geto.

the same two fuckers he ripped into you about weeks ago. the ones who made his skin crawl when you talked about being with them.

and there you are, looking up at them with wide eyes, lips parted, cheeks flushed.

their bodies are too close. their eyes are too hungry. and you?

you’re letting it happen.

a fire detonates in his chest, hot and violent.

he doesn’t hear the music anymore, doesn’t see the girl in red still eyeing him mere meters away, all he sees is you.

you, with their disgusting hands trailing you up and down, looks of deceit and arrogance plastered on their sleazy faces.

exactly like he fucking warned you.

and it feels like the floor drops out from under him.

he watches as your head tips back, your hand brushing against gojo’s arm as he leans in close. geto says something low against your ear, and sukuna watches your body react, watches the shiver crawl across your skin.

his jaw grinds.

it should be simple, he should storm over there and tear you away from them, snarl in their smug faces until they back the fuck off. that’s what the protective best friend role demands. that’s what toji would expect of him.

but his feet stay planted.

because deep down, he knows he’s got no fucking right.

you’re not a kid. you’ve always been naive, but in the end you make your own choices, reckless or not. he warned you. he yelled at you. hell, he confessed in the dark of that bathroom that he wanted you, wanted you bad enough to lose sleep over it, and then he still shoved you away.

and this? this is the fallout.

you don’t listen. you don’t care. you’re doing exactly what you want, just like always.

he should’ve never let it get this far. should’ve never let that night in the bathroom happen. he can still feel the ghost of your breath against his lips, the desperate edge in your voice when you demanded answers. he should’ve shut it down clean, cold, final. but no, he let himself slip. he admitted the truth. and then he gutted you with rejection.

and now you’re here, seeking out the exact poison he warned you about, just to spite him.

his grip tightens around the cup until the plastic crumples.

gojo’s hand trails down your arm, fingers brushing yours in a way that makes your breath hitch. geto leans in closer, lips grazing your temple like it is nothing, like he has every right to be there. you laugh, but it is thin, brittle around the edges. the kind of laugh sukuna knows too well.

his stomach knots. he sees it, clear as day. you are starting to fold in on yourself, the tipsy bravado slipping. the way your shoulders tense, the way your eyes dart for half a second toward the crowd like you are looking for an exit. you chew your lip again, a nervous tell he remembers from when you were younger, when you thought no one noticed.

and fuck, it is all he needs to see.

because this is not you having fun. this is you putting on a mask. and those bastards are getting bolder, hungrier, hands inching lower, mouths getting closer. gojo whispers something against your ear, and the look that flashes across your face, quick and sharp before you bury it, makes rage ignite in sukuna’s head.

he swallows it down. he has to think. because as much as his fists itch to connect with their smug faces, he catches a glimpse of muscular movement across the room. toji.

the dumbass is weaving through the crowd, laughing with a beer in his hand, already scouting for his next distraction. he is too close. one more step and his line of sight will land straight on you. his baby sister, cornered between two men he would kill on the spot if he knew what they were capable of.

sukuna’s pulse slams. he cannot let that happen. he cannot let toji see you like this. the disappointment would gut him, and the aftermath? unthinkable.

his decision snaps into place before he even realizes he is moving.

he pushes off the wall, shoulders set, expression flat. his height cuts through the crowd easy, a predator zeroing in. geto and gojo are too wrapped up in you to notice until he is already there.

and then his hand is on you. firm. unyielding.

“what the-” you start, but the word dies in your throat when you are yanked clean out of their little trap. sukuna’s grip clamps around your wrist, hot and unshakable, and before you can protest he is pulling you through the throng of bodies like you weigh nothing.

it happens so fast no one can stop it. geto blinks, gojo curses, your heels scuff against the floor as you stumble to keep up.

you twist, eyes wide. “sukuna, what the fuck-”

“shut up,” he growls low, not breaking stride. his jaw is locked, his eyes hard, every line of his body daring anyone to try and interfere.

behind you, you hear gojo’s laugh, mocking and loud, but it barely cuts through the roar of blood in your ears.

because nothing about this makes sense. you never saw him coming. never expected him to be here, let alone to drag you away like some scene out of a nightmare.

your heart is hammering, confusion sparking into anger, but his grip is iron, unrelenting.

and the truth is, under the fury, under the shock, there is something else. something dangerous in the way his touch brands your skin, in the way his body clears a path without hesitation.

the night air hits sharp as he shoves the back door open and drags you out into the cool darkness. the music from the house thunders behind you, muffled by walls and distance, but your pulse is louder, crashing in your ears as your heels scrape against the sidewalk.

he doesn’t slow until he’s pulled you into the shadow of a narrow side street, one dim streetlight buzzing above, the rest swallowed by dark. his grip finally loosens, dropping your wrist like it burns him.

you rip your arm back, chest heaving, anger sparking so hot you barely recognize your own voice.

“what the fuck is your problem?” you snap, loud, raw, the words cracking. “you can’t just drag me out like that! what the fuck gives you the right?”

sukuna doesn’t answer, jaw set, eyes like molten coals in the shadows. he looks carved from stone, and that makes it worse, makes you want to shatter him just so he’ll react.

“say something!” you shove at his chest, the force making him stumble half a step, but his hand shoots up, catching your wrist again before you can hit him again. his grip is firm but not cruel, steady as his breath, though you see the twitch in his jaw.

“you’re welcome,” he mutters, voice low, controlled, but fraying at the edges.

your laugh bursts sharp, ugly. “you’re welcome? are you kidding me? you think this is some fucking favor? dragging me away from them like i’m some dumb child who can’t make my own choices?”

“those weren’t choices,” sukuna growls. “those were mistakes waiting to happen, i knew you were uncomfortable.”

“and that’s your call, huh?” your voice cracks, high and furious. “you think you get to decide who i talk to, who i touch, who i let touch me?” your hands are trembling now, and you clench them into fists so he doesn’t see. “you think you’re better than them? you think you’re not the biggest mistake i ever made?”

his nostrils flare, but he says nothing.

and that silence, that maddening restraint, makes your throat tighten. tears sting hot behind your eyes, but you blink hard, furious at yourself for letting him see.

“i liked you,” you spit, chest heaving. “do you get that? i fucking liked you. i thought we had something, i thought-” your voice splinters, and you bite it back, nails digging crescents into your palms. “i thought you wanted me too. and then you” the bathroom walls flash in your mind. the way he looked at you, the way his voice dropped when he confessed he wanted you. and then the way he gutted you with rejection, leaving you stranded in the dark.

“you ripped me apart,” you choke, words tumbling too fast now. “you could’ve just said no. you could’ve said you didn’t feel that way. but no, you made me think there was something real, then you shoved me away like i was nothing.”

sukuna’s shoulders twitch, like he wants to speak, but he doesn’t. he just stands there, big and silent and infuriating, the veins in his neck straining.

“and now now you think you can just drag me out of there, away from them, away from anyone who looks at me like i’m worth something? fuck you, sukuna. seriously fuck you.” your voice is breaking, hot tears finally slipping, but you don’t care anymore. you want him to see. you want him to hurt. “you don’t get to do this. you don’t get to reject me and then act like you own me. you’re such a fucking asshole.”

the words hang, heavy, each one pounding between you. your chest is heaving, breath ragged, every nerve lit with fury and pain.

sukuna finally moves. it’s subtle at first, just a step closer, his head dipping like he’s trying to breathe through his own rage. his hand flexes at his side, jaw working, and for the first time all night you see it his mask cracking.

“you don’t know what the fuck you’re saying,” he growls, low, rough, like he’s fighting every word.

“i know exactly what i’m saying,” you snap. “you hurt me. you really fucking hurt me! you made me think i wasn’t good enough- like i was just some stupid girl you could toy around with.” the tears are really flowing now, you're staring at him like he'd just killed your whole family.

sukuna doesn’t move. doesn’t speak. his face is carved from stone, but his eyes, fuck, his eyes look wrecked.

inside his head it’s chaos. every word you spit cuts deep, because you’re right. he did crush you. he did push you away like it was nothing, like you were nothing, because it was the only way he could think to save himself from losing everything else. he told himself it was better, that hurting you once cleanly was kinder than stringing you along. but now? seeing your tears glint in the lamplight, hearing the raw break in your voice? it feels like he chose the cruelest option of all.

he never wanted this. not your pain. not your anger. not the hollow ache sitting heavy in your chest that he put there.

he can't help but move closer, his head falling closer to your face as he inches forward. but you don’t back away. you’re trembling, glaring at him through wet lashes, waiting for something, anything. an answer. an explanation.

he doesn’t have one. not one that doesn’t make him sound like a coward.

what he does have is this unbearable pull.

your mouth is right there. parted, furious, trembling. your chest heaves close to his. your scent wraps around him, sweet and sharp, clinging to the back of his throat.

and he breaks.

the noise in his chest is low, guttural, before his hand shoots up to cradle your jaw. not gentle, it's desperate.

he crowds you into the wall, lips crashing against yours hard enough to steal the air from your lungs.

your gasp melts into the kiss, fury colliding with hunger. his lips are rough, teeth scraping, tongue forcing past your resistance like he’s starving.

and god help you you kiss him back.

all the rage, all the hurt, it ignites into something else, something darker, messier. your hands fist into his shirt, pulling him closer, shoving him even as you cling.

he groans into your mouth, a sound raw and guttural, and it shoots straight through you. his hand drags up your side, fingers splayed, thumb pressing into your ribs like he wants to memorize the shape of you.

you break for air, both of you panting, foreheads colliding. “you...” your voice trembles, half fury, half want. “you can’t just-"

“shut up,” he growls, and his mouth claims yours again, swallowing your protest.

it’s not gentle. it’s not kind. it’s punishment and confession all in one, his teeth nipping your lip hard enough to sting, his tongue demanding more, taking more.

your tears streak hot down your cheeks, but he kisses them away, mouth dragging rough along your jaw, down your neck. you gasp, nails digging into his shoulders.

“you drive me fucking insane,” he snarls against your throat, each word searing. “you think i don’t want you? i can’t fucking breathe around you.”

your knees nearly buckle, your body arching as his teeth graze your skin. “then why? why did you-"

“because it’s wrong,” he spits, pressing you harder against the wall, like pinning you there will make you believe him. “because you’re his little sister. because you deserve better than this, than me.”

his words are a whip, but his mouth contradicts them, trailing fire down your neck, his hand gripping your waist like he’ll never let go.

you shove at him, tears burning. “you don’t get to say that after everything. you don’t get to push me away and then then kiss me like this”

he silences you again, lips crashing to yours, swallowing the sob in your throat.

and this time, you don’t fight it.

you melt into him, fury and pain bleeding into want, into need. every inch of him presses to you, hard muscle, heat, strength. his hand tangles in your hair, tugging just enough to make you gasp, to let him deepen the kiss until you’re dizzy.

his breath is ragged when he finally breaks away, his forehead pressed to yours. his eyes are wild, red in the dark, like he’s unraveling.

“i can’t stay away from you,” he admits, voice low, raw, shaking. “i tried. i fucking tried, this was my last attempt at getting you out of my damn head, but i just can’t. you’re all i fucking think about.”

your heart twists, every part of you aching.

“if you want me... please... just have me,” you whisper, broken, desperate.

for a moment, the world stops. the music is gone, the street is gone, everything is gone but the space between your mouths.

then he’s kissing you again, slower this time but deeper, like he’s pouring every war inside him into you.

and you let him.

because no matter how wrong it is, no matter how much it will burn you both alive, you’ve never wanted anything more than what he's giving you right now.

the kiss leaves your lips raw, your chest tight, your head spinning. but before you can catch your breath, the sound of laughter cuts through the alley. a couple stumbles out of the house, too drunk to notice you in the shadows, but the sight makes sukuna’s jaw clench. his hand tightens at your hip like he’s seconds from losing it.

“let's not do this here. you deserve better than an alley,” he mutters, voice low, sharp, final.

before you can argue, his fingers lace tight around yours. one hard tug, and he’s pulling you from the wall, dragging you out of the narrow side street. your protests die in your throat, replaced by the thud of your pulse as he leads you fast, decisive, like the thought of letting you go now would kill him.

the thrum of bass from the party fades behind you, replaced by the night’s quiet. the air’s cool, your skin hot, and his grip doesn’t ease.

“kuna-” you start, breathless, but he doesn’t look back.

his bike waits where he left it, black and mean under the streetlamp next to toji's car, shit, he was here too?

sukuna swings one leg over, settling in like he was born on it, then jerks his chin at you.

“hop on.”

the tone brooks no argument. it’s not a request.

your heart stutters, your chest a mess of anger and need, but you move. your legs hook over the seat, arms hesitating before you finally wrap them around his torso. the heat of him seeps into you instantly, the steady thrum of muscle beneath your hands grounding and overwhelming all at once.

the engine roars to life, loud and rough, vibrating through your bones. and then you’re off, the world blurring into streaks of streetlight and shadow. the wind whips at your hair, your skirt, stings your cheeks, but all you can focus on is the solid heat of him under your palms, the sharp cut of his shoulders, the way he leans into each turn like he owns the night.

your chest presses tighter against his back the longer the ride goes, every curve in the road pushing you flush against him. you feel the strength in him everywhere, the way he handles the bike, the way he doesn’t falter once. your fists curl tighter in his shirt without meaning to, your lips almost brushing his shoulder from how close you are.

by the time the bike slows, your body’s trembling. not from the cold.

he kills the engine outside his house, the sudden silence ringing in your ears. it’s dark here, quieter, no thumping bass, no drunk voices bleeding into the street. just you, him, and the weight of everything simmering between.

he swings off first, boots hitting the pavement with a solid thud, then turns to you. his eyes catch the glow of the porch light, hard and unreadable. he doesn’t speak, doesn’t give you the chance to. just offers his hand, palm up, rough and waiting.

your throat’s dry. your fingers twitch before you finally slip yours into his.

his grip swallows yours whole, steady, sure, and then you’re moving again, dragged toward his door. his shoulders are tense, his stride unrelenting, like if he stops now he’ll think twice.

the key scrapes in the lock, the door swings open, and the second it shuts behind you the air shifts.

quiet. thick. his parents were always off on trips to do with their business, so it's no wonder the house is empty.

you don’t get two seconds before your back hits the wood, hard enough to rattle the frame. his mouth’s on yours again, rougher this time, like he’s been starving for it the entire ride. his hands cage your face, thumbs pressing into your jaw as his tongue claims, teeth scraping until you gasp.

your fingers knot in his shirt, yanking him closer, your fury bleeding into want. every shove of his mouth is an argument, every nip at your lip a demand.

you gasp his name into the heat, but he swallows it whole, groaning into your mouth like the sound alone undoes him. "hmm, easy, baby." he whispers.

his hands drop, dragging down your sides, gripping your waist so hard you think he’ll bruise. he hoists you up without warning, and instinct takes over, your legs wrapping around his hips.

the world tilts as he carries you deeper inside, his stride unbroken. his mouth doesn’t leave yours, not until he sets you down hard against his kitchen counter, the edge biting into your thighs.

you’re breathless, dizzy, your chest heaving, and he looks down at you like he doesn’t know whether to tear you apart or worship you.

“my god,” he mutters, almost to himself, forehead pressed to yours, his breath hot and ragged.

you can’t speak. you can only look at him, lips swollen, heart hammering, every part of you screaming for more.

his hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you into him again, slower this time, deeper, like he’s finally letting himself taste what he’s been dying for.

you arch into him, gasping, the counter biting into your skin as he grinds you back against it. the heat is dizzying, the scrape of his teeth on your lip almost making you whimper.

he drags your hips forward, forcing your legs wider around him, one hand locking at the back of your neck to hold you steady as he devours you. his other hand grips your waist like a vice, thumb pressing into the dip of your stomach, fingertips digging into the curve of your hip.

it’s frantic. almost violent. like if he stops he’ll come apart.

but then he does.

he tears his mouth from yours, chest heaving, jaw tight. his grip lingers another second before he forces it to loosen, before he eases you back down onto the counter. his hands lift, framing your face instead, thumbs brushing over the hot, wet tracks of his own making.

his forehead drops to yours.

“fuck,” he breathes, ragged and low, almost a growl, but softer than you’ve ever heard him. “y/n, i-” he cuts himself off, swallows hard, eyes screwed shut like it’s the only way he won’t break.

when he looks at you, it’s different. the hunger’s still there, sharp and searing, but it’s laced with something heavier. something raw.

“tell me this is okay,” he says, voice rough. “tell me you want this. because i swear to god, i know it’s fucked up. i know i’m a hypocrite, telling you all that shit about staying away from older guys. i know i told you no, i shoved you away, and now i’ve got no fucking right to put my hands on you like this.”

his thumbs sweep over your cheeks again, careful now, like you’re something fragile.

“you’ve got every right to shove me off, every right to tell me to fuck myself. i won’t stop you. i’ll take it. but if this isn’t what you want-” his breath shudders. “if this is just you doing what you were doing with those two earlier, just acting, just covering up what you really feel? then i’ll stop. i’ll stop right now i swear."

the words hang heavy, his forehead pressed to yours, his nose brushing yours, his chest rising and falling against you like he’s holding himself together by a thread.

and for the first time, you see it, the truth behind the mask. the vulnerability he’s never let slip.

you lift your hands, trembling, and curl them around his wrists, holding him there, forcing his touch to stay on your face. your voice comes out steady, sure, even though your heart’s pounding.

“i'm not pretending,” you whisper. “not with you.”

his breath hitches, his eyes darkening, but he doesn’t move. doesn’t let himself.

“i’m not uncomfortable,” you say firmly, the words cracking something open between you. “i want this. i want you. all of you. no pretending. just you.”

the silence that follows is sharp, vibrating with tension.

his hands tighten just slightly on your face, then he dips his head, pressing his forehead harder against yours, like he’s trying to fuse himself to you.

“god,” he whispers again, but it’s different this time. softer. almost reverent.

his thumbs stroke your skin with new care, his mouth hovering over yours, not quite kissing you yet, like he’s waiting for permission one last time.

and when you tilt your chin up, giving it, he finally lets himself breathe again.

his mouth hovers over yours, his grip on your face gentler than it’s ever been, but his body is still taut, wound so tight he looks like he might snap if you breathe wrong. your lips almost touch, close enough that you can feel his uneven breath ghost across your skin.

and it hits you, how long this has been building.

years of it, buried in the cracks of your everyday life. years of him barging into your room without knocking, smirking like he owned the place. of him stealing your snacks, teasing you until your blood boiled, making sure everyone thought it was just harmless banter when it was always more, always charged.

years of late nights where he and toji passed out on the couch, empty bottles on the table, you stuck awake listening to their drunken laughter from your bedroom doorway, your chest tight because you could never laugh with them the way you wanted to.

all of it led here.

even recently, his confession, the way he’d cracked for just a moment, admitted he wanted you. the way his rejection afterwards sliced through you so cleanly you thought you’d never stop bleeding. your spiral. the parties, the bad decisions, the boys who weren’t him. the look in his eyes when he realized you were breaking apart and he was the one who pushed you over the edge.

all the silence since then, all the times he ignored you, avoided you, pretended nothing happened while you kept chasing chaos, trying to drown the ache.

it all crashes down into this single moment. his forehead against yours. his hands shaking slightly where they cradle your face. the weight of every year, every tease, every scarred piece of your heart colliding at once.

when he finally kisses you again, it’s nothing like the frantic bite of before. it’s slow, deep, like he’s pouring every wasted year into your mouth, every second of restraint he thought he had, every bruise and scar of wanting you but never letting himself have you.

you whimper into it, clutching his wrists tighter, terrified he’ll vanish again, that he’ll come to his senses and push you away like he did before. but he doesn’t.

he kisses you harder, deeper, his tongue sliding against yours in a desperate sweep. his breath is uneven, caught between hunger and confession. his hand slips from your face to tangle in your hair, tilting your head so he can taste more of you, can kiss you like he’s starving, like he’s been starving for years.

"your lips are so sweet, pretty."

your legs hook tighter around his hips, pulling him in, your body telling him what words already had, you want this, you want him.

the second your mouths break apart, sukuna moves.

not hesitating, not second-guessing, just moving like he’s been holding this back too long to keep resisting. his grip slides from your face down your body, rough palms skimming the curve of your waist, and in the same motion he lifts you off the counter.

"need you closer."

you gasp against his mouth, arms locking around his neck as he carries you, his strides purposeful, heavy, like he knows if he doesn’t get you somewhere softer than marble right now he’ll ruin you against the damn kitchen.

the couch swallows you in a messy tumble, the creak of old leather filling the silence just before his mouth is on yours again. rough, hungry, no patience left.

his hands are already on your thighs, spreading them, kneading the muscle hard enough to make you squirm. he growls low when your skirt rides higher, bunching at your hips, the fabric no match for how badly he wants to get to you.

your fingers fist his shirt, tugging him down, desperate to keep him close, to keep the heat pressed between you. but he’s already dragging the hem of your skirt down, peeling it off like it’s offending him, leaving you bare from the waist down before you can catch your breath.

his eyes burn as they rake over you, and the weight of his stare makes your stomach twist tight. years of teasing, of pretending, of silence, it’s all there in the way he looks at you now, raw, unapologetic, like he’s finally letting himself feast.

he doesn’t waste time. his hands grip your thighs again, thumbs digging in as he drags you closer to the edge of the couch. you let out a breathless sound, your hips already lifting for him, your body giving in without question.

"can i taste you, sweetheart?"

"please, yes please, just-"

and he devours you.

no warning, no easing in. his mouth crashes to you, hot and rough, his tongue greedy from the start. your head snaps back against the couch, a broken cry slipping out before you can stop it.

"k-kuna- h-ah!"

sukuna groans into you, the vibration making your toes curl. his grip on your thighs tightens, pinning you open as his mouth works deeper, his tongue dragging, circling, pressing until your entire body is arching up to meet him.

it’s messy, it’s desperate, and it’s perfect.

because this isn’t about performance. it’s not about putting on a show. it’s about him finally tasting what he’s craved for too long, about you finally getting what you’ve begged for in silence, in stolen looks, in reckless decisions that never measured up to this.

"you taste so fucking sweet, holy shit,"

he eats like he’s starved, and you can’t help the sounds tearing out of your throat, raw and shaky. your fingers bury in his hair, tugging, urging him closer, and he growls when you do, tongue pressing harder, faster, relentless.

the world blurs. all you know is his mouth, his tongue, the wet heat making your stomach clench tighter and tighter. you’re gasping his name before you can think, a broken plea, and he answers with a guttural sound that vibrates against you, sending you spiraling.

your thighs tremble, your body threatening to snap, and he doesn’t let up. he wants this, you realize dimly. he wants you falling apart under his mouth, wants proof he can break you down, build you up, make you his in a way no one else ever could.

and he does.

"ryo! i'm- i'm gonna-"

the climax rips through you hard, sharp, pulling a cry from deep in your chest as your body bows tight. your fingers grip his hair harder, pulling, shaking, but he doesn’t stop, tongue and lips working you through every shudder until you’re gasping, limp against the couch.

only then does he pull back, mouth glistening, chin wet, his eyes red and wild as he looks at you.

“fuck,” he rasps, voice gravel scraping low, his chest heaving. "shit, your face when you come, need to see that again."

you can’t answer. you can only stare, breathless, thighs still trembling, as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then leans over you again. his mouth crashes to yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, and you moan into it, the filth of it sparking another rush of heat through your veins.

"i've never been with a girl as gorgeous as you, y/n."

his body presses heavy into yours, his hips grinding down, and you feel the hard bludge of him against you, thick and unyielding. you whimper, hips lifting to meet his, and the sound he makes is feral, guttural.

"i've never been with someone as intimidating as you." you reply through breathless speech.

“you make me fucking psychotic,” he mutters into your mouth, his hands already tugging at his belt, unfastening it with rough, impatient movements.

your fingers help, fumbling, desperate, until the leather slips free and his pants are shoved low enough for him to press against you bare.

the heat of him makes your breath stutter. big, heavy, perfect.

he drags the head along your slick, slow, deliberate, and your hips jerk, a sharp whine escaping before you can catch it.

his forehead drops to yours, eyes burning into you. “this okay?” his voice is ragged, almost broken, and it cuts through the haze for just a second. “tell me. i need to hear you say it.”

your chest squeezes, because you hear what he’s really asking. not just for permission, but for forgiveness. for confirmation that you want him after everything.

“yes,” you breathe, clutching his face, holding him there. “please, sukuna. i want you, so badly.”

the relief in his eyes is brief, fleeting, before it’s swallowed by hunger again.

he pushes in slow at first, dragging every inch out, letting you feel the stretch, the way he fills you. your breath hitches, mouth falling open as your body clenches around him, already overwhelmed.

“god,” he growls, his eyes squeezing shut as he bottoms out, his hands gripping your waist so tight it hurts. “yer' so tight.”

you cling to him, nails digging into his shoulders, your body adjusting, burning with every pulse.

and then he moves.

long, deep thrusts at first, dragging out, pressing back in until you’re gasping, your body arching to meet his. the couch creaks under the rhythm, the slap of skin loud in the dim room, every thrust hitting deep, hitting where you need it.

you can’t hold back the sounds, moans, whimpers, broken cries that tumble out without thought. he snarls at every one, his hips snapping harder, faster, like he’s chasing the noises, like he needs them.

the years of restraint, the bathroom, the parties, the spiral, it all pours out here, in the way he fucks you. relentless, hungry, like he’s reclaiming every second he denied himself.

your body can’t keep up, already tightening again, the build sharp and desperate. “a-aa! ryo-” you gasp, nails clawing at his back.

he groans low, forehead dropping to your shoulder, teeth scraping your skin. “c'mon baby, come for me,” he rasps, voice ruined. “wanna feel you, fuck, wanna feel you come undone on my cock.”

and you do.

the second climax crashes harder, your body convulsing around him, squeezing, clenching, pulling him deeper. your cry breaks against his ear, and he snarls, hips pounding through it, chasing his own release.

"f-fuck y/n- you're so good baby, you're so- hah-"

it hits him fast, violent, his body tensing above yours. he buries himself deep, a guttural sound tearing from his chest as he spills inside you, holding you tight against him as if letting go would kill him.

you moan at the feeling of fullness washes over you, pulling and scratching at his bare back. "holy shit- kuna-"

the world stills.

the only sound is your ragged breaths, tangled together, sweat sticking your bodies. his forehead stays pressed to your shoulder, his chest heaving, his grip still bruising on your waist.

and for the first time in years, there’s no teasing, no pretense, no walls. just him. just you. just the wreckage of everything you’ve held back finally, finally spilling free.

"shit, y/n..." he takes a few beats to catch his breath as he lifts his head from your shoulder. "that was fucking mind blowing."

you look up at him as he pulls a strand of hair behind your ear, kissing your forehead sweet, long. he looks tired, yet so at peace with himself, like everything he'd ever wanted was lying beneath him, because it was.

your body feels boneless, trembling and heavy, but sukuna doesn’t let you stay collapsed on the couch. the second his breath steadies enough, he presses a long kiss to your forehead, then another softer one, lingering like he’s trying to memorize the shape of you beneath him. when he finally pulls back, his big hands are still gentle on your waist, thumbs rubbing the spots he’d been holding tight.

“come on,” he murmurs, voice low, ragged from use, but carrying a warmth you’ve never heard from him before. “couch is shit for sleeping.”

you almost laugh, your body too wrung out to manage more than a breathy sound as he carefully lifts you, cradling you against his chest. the shift in him makes your throat ache.

his bedroom is darker, quieter, tucked away at the end of the hall. he kicks the door open with a heavy boot and sets you down softly on the edge of his bed. the mattress dips under your weight, the sheets cool against your overheated skin.

you expect him to pull back, maybe go to the bathroom or go outside to have a smoke, but he doesn’t. he kneels instead, hands on your ankles, slipping your remaining garments off with surprising care. his touch drags up your calves, soothing, then he leans up to kiss your knee before moving to the dresser.

when he comes back he’s holding a damp towel and a glass of water. “drink,” he orders, but his voice is softer than usual, not sharp, not mocking. when you obey, he watches you finish half the glass before setting it down on the nightstand.

then he takes the towel to you. slow, careful strokes as he cleans you up, wiping away the mess between your thighs, murmuring low praise under his breath. “so good for me,” he says, thumb brushing your hipbone, “look at you, took me so fucking well.”

the words make you shiver, but not just from the heat curling in your belly again. there’s something in the way he says it, like he isn’t just praising your body but you, every piece of you.

once he’s done, he tosses the towel aside and pulls you further up the bed, tugging the blanket over your legs. then he strips off his shirt, kicks off his jeans, and slides in beside you, immediately pulling you into his chest.

you tuck yourself under his chin, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat. for a long moment, neither of you speak. it’s just quiet, the kind that feels heavy with everything that still needs to be said.

finally, sukuna exhales slow, his hand rubbing up and down your back. “been thinking about that for a long time,” he admits. his voice is rough, like he’s dragging the words out against his will, but he says them anyway. “longer than i’d like to admit.”

your throat tightens. you knew, of course. all the teasing, the tension, the way he’d looked at you when no one else was watching. but hearing him say it, laying it bare, makes your chest ache.

“me too,” you whisper, pressing closer.

his arm tightens around you, his mouth brushing your hair. “but it isn’t just that.” he shifts slightly, enough to tilt your chin so you’re looking at him. his eyes are softer now, stripped of the usual arrogance, raw in a way that makes your stomach flip. “you’re not just some quick fuck to me, y/n. you’re more than that. you’ve always been more.”

your eyes sting, the weight of his honesty crashing into you. after everything, after the rejection, the pain, the nights you thought he didn’t care at all, to hear this now feels like your chest is cracking open.

you swallow hard, your voice barely a whisper when it finally comes out. “then what are we?”

the question trembles in the air between you, fragile, like one wrong move could shatter the whole moment. your eyes search his face in the dark, desperate for something solid, something you can hold onto.

sukuna’s thumb brushes along your cheekbone, steadying, deliberate. his expression softens in a way you’ve never seen before, stripped of all the cocky smirks and sharp teasing. “i want us to be something real,” he says, voice rough like the words scrape on their way out. “i want you. all of you. not just like this. not just when i can’t hold it in anymore.”

your breath hitches, chest tightening, like your ribs are too small to hold everything pressing inside. “you mean…?”

he exhales slow, the faintest tug of a smirk curling his mouth, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. this one isn’t sharp or mocking, it’s almost tender. “i’m asking you out, dumbass.” the words are gruff, but the weight behind them is undeniable. “be mine. officially. no more hiding. no more pretending i don’t want you every damn second of the day.”

for a moment, you can’t breathe. your throat closes up, your chest swells so tight it hurts, and the laugh that bubbles out of you is cracked and wet, carried on a tear slipping down your cheek. “yeah,” you whisper, nodding quickly, like the answer was always right there waiting. “of course, i’ll be yours.”

his hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you into him. the kiss that follows is nothing like the ones before. there’s no heat, no bruising urgency, no hunger to consume. this one is slow, deep, grounding, like he’s trying to pour every unspoken word into you, like he’s begging you to understand that this is different. when he finally pulls back, his forehead presses to yours, his breath shaky.

for a moment, the world feels suspended, soft and sure.

but then the weight of reality crashes in, unavoidable.

your lips part, the name slipping out before you can stop it. “toji.”

the syllables land heavy between you. sukuna closes his eyes, groaning low like he’s just been punched. he drops back against the pillow with a hand dragging over his face. “hmm. i know.”

you can’t help the small laugh that bubbles up, muffled as you bury your face in his chest to hide the flush on your cheeks. “yeah,” you murmur, voice trembling. “sorta difficult, hey.”

his arm tightens around you, fingers rubbing absent circles into your back. he doesn’t laugh with you. instead, his voice comes low, thoughtful, stripped bare. “we’ll tell him. not tonight, but soon. i don’t want this to be some dirty little secret. i don’t want you thinking i’m ashamed of you.”

your breath catches. you lift your head, searching his face, needing to see if he means it. “you really mean that?”

his gaze pins you in place, steady and unflinching. “i mean it. i want him to know you’re mine. i want the whole damn world to know i’m not letting you go.”

your heart lurches so hard it almost hurts. fear still twists in your gut, the fear of your brother’s reaction, the fallout this will cause, but under it all is something bigger. relief. hope. the kind that makes your chest ache.

your lips curve into a small, trembling smile. “then we’ll tell him. together.”

his hand slides into your hair, cupping the back of your head as he pulls you in for another kiss. this one is softer still, lingering, his lips coaxing more than taking. when he finally pulls back, he tucks you against his chest, his hand never leaving your hair.

the silence stretches, but it’s not empty. it hums, alive with everything still unsaid.

you’re the first to break it, your voice small. “why now?”

he shifts slightly, his arm tightening around you. “what do you mean?”

“you’ve been avoiding me for weeks. you rejected me so hard that i thought i’d made it all up in my head. so why now? why tonight?”

sukuna sighs, long and rough, his chest rising beneath your cheek. “because i couldn’t take it anymore. seeing you at that party with those two? letting them put their hands on you like they had any fucking right?”

his jaw tightens, and you feel the muscle tick beneath your fingertips where your hand rests on him. “i wanted to rip them apart. and it wasn’t just because i was jealous, though i was losing my mind with it. it was because i knew you weren’t with them for you. you were trying to bury something. and i couldn’t watch it anymore.”

you bite your lip, the truth of his words cutting close.

“i told myself rejecting you was the right thing,” he continues, his voice low, strained. “you’re young, you’re my best friend’s little sister, it’s fucked six ways to hell. i thought if i pushed you away hard enough you’d hate me, move on, find someone else. someone who wasn’t me.”

he pauses, the sound of his breath unsteady. “but you didn’t. you just hurt. and i couldn’t stand it. i hurt you more than anyone else ever could. and that’s not what i wanted.”

your throat aches, your eyes sting, but you force the words out. “mm. you did hurt me. you made me think i wasn’t worth anything. i tried to forget you, i tried to fill that space with someone else, with anyone else, but it never worked. because it was never them. it was always you.”

his arm tightens around you until it’s almost crushing, his face burying in your hair. “fuck. i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry.”

you shake your head, pressing your palm to his chest. “don’t be sorry now. just don’t do it again. don’t shut me out. don’t pretend this isn’t real.”

he pulls back enough to look at you, his hand sliding up to cup your face. his eyes are raw, open in a way that feels dangerous. “it’s real. it’s the realest fucking thing i’ve ever felt. i’ve wanted you for years." he took a long breath.

"do you know how many nights i sat in your house, drinking with your brother, trying not to look at you when you’d walk past? do you know how many times i wanted to climb through your window when you left it cracked open? do you know how many times i almost gave in, almost touched you when you were right there, but i stopped myself because i didn’t want to ruin you?”

your breath stutters, your pulse racing at the raw honesty spilling from him.

“and every time i teased you,” he goes on, voice low, hoarse, “it was because i couldn’t help myself. i wanted to see you blush, i wanted to see you snap at me, i wanted any reaction that meant i had you looking at me and no one else. i’m a selfish bastard, y/n. i’ve always been selfish when it comes to you.”

your hand slides up his chest, to his jaw. “and i’ve always wanted you, even when i hated you for it. i didn’t care if it was selfish. i just wanted you to look at me like you are now.”

his lips crash to yours, but this time it’s not hunger, not fire. it’s relief, it’s surrender, it’s years of weight finally breaking apart.

when he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours, both of you breathing heavy, like the words themselves took more out of you than anything else tonight.

“i don’t know how we’re gonna do this,” he admits, voice softer now. “your brother’s not gonna take it easy. and i’ve fucked up a lot already. but i know one thing.” he tilts your chin, forcing you to look at him. “i want to try. with you. i want to make this work. i don’t care how messy it is, i don’t care how much hell we catch for it, i want you.”

you nod, your throat too tight for words, tears sliding hot down your cheeks.

he kisses them away, murmuring against your skin. “don’t cry, baby.”

you bury yourself in his chest, your hand clutching his shirt like you’ll never let go.

and for the rest of the night, you talk.

you talk about the first time you realized you wanted him, about how every stupid argument was just another way of circling each other.

he admits how jealous he was about last summer when he found out about gojo and geto, how it killed him to picture you with anyone else. you confess how lost you felt after the bathroom, how much you hated yourself for still wanting him after he’d made you feel like nothing.

he listens, every word sinking deep, and when it’s his turn he lays it all bare. the nights he lay awake thinking about you, the excuses he made to himself to avoid you, the sick twist of guilt every time he thought about what it would mean to toji.

each confession feels like tearing open an old wound, but together you stitch them closed. piece by piece, word by word, you rebuild something stronger.

by the time sleep begins to tug at your edges, you’re curled half on top of him, his hand tracing idle shapes on your back.

your eyes flutter, heavy, and the words slip out, half-dreaming. “we’re really doing this.”

sukuna chuckles low, rough, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “yeah, princess. we’re really doing this.”

you smile against his chest, and for the first time it feels real.

not a game. not a tease. not a fantasy.

just you and him. finally, finally giving in to what’s been there all along.

5k special yayyy !! thank you all so much for all of the love and support it means the world to me.