Summary: After fifty-five sold out stadium shows across the country, the Victory Tour is coming to a close. The Jackson family comes together to celebrate, little did they know the fireworks wouldnât be the only explosion that night.
Pairing: Michael Jackson & Reader!
Warning: CURSING, FLASHBACKS, MENTIONS OF ABUSE AND FLUFF
Notes: I wrote this story set in the world of Conscious Decision, however, it can be read on its own. This was so much fun to create. I hope you enjoy!
The Hayvenhurst Estate buzzed with excitement. The Victory Tour is officially over and there are only two people who knew it truly was the end. Michael and Y/N remained beside one another, itâs the only way he could keep his anxiety leveled. Heâs only able to function with her. Especially tonight, he needed her more than ever.
Y/N had come up with the idea to have a private celebratory dinner before the concert. She went all out, obsessively planning every little detail and with the help of Michaelâs mother and sisters, it turned out better than she imagined.
The dinner table was full of love, laughter and appreciation of being together and of course the delicious meal before them.
Michael leans over, kissing Y/N on the cheek, âThank you. This is⌠Minnie, this is beautiful.â
âAnything for you.â She caught Marlon side eyeing her, a teasing smirk forming at the edge of his lip, forcing her to add, âAnd, your brothers.â
âThis is an incredible spread. Sorry fellas, Iâm not dancing tonight. Go on without me. Iâm eating until I canât walk.â Jackie laughed, loading his plate with more mashed potatoes.
âMichaelâs better half threw down in the kitchen, once again. We were in charge of decorations.â Latoya explained, taking a bite of a homemade honey butter roll.
âUh-huh⌠Yâall really went all out.â Randy stared at the singular balloon floating in the corner.
âYeah, it looks like a whole new house.â Michael rolled his eyes, âI thought I took a wrong turn.â
âWe broke the helium tankâŚâ Janet muttered with a frown.
âWe?â Rebbie shook her head, âYou, girl, you.â
âWe made the banner! And, look! We got a new tablecloth, streamers and confetti.â Janet grabbed a handful and threw it in the air.
âIt looks great. Thank you for doing all of this for us.â Jermaine winked, then, snatched the gravy boat from Jackie, nearly emptying it all over his own plate.
âI canât wait for dessert! What did you beautiful ladies make?â Tito grinned, rubbing his hands together.
âOur lovely Y/N put together a bakery.â Janet sang, biting into her extra spicy chicken wings.
âOh! I love when Y/N bakes! What are we having?â Tito shifted in his seat, staring at Y/N and waiting for an answer. Rather impatiently.
âI made a chocolate peanut butter fudge cake, double chocolate chip cookies, a lemon raspberry cheesecake, salted caramel cupcakes, some cinnamon rolls, an apple pie, brownies, oh, and a few flavors of ice creamâŚâ she noticed how quiet it got, how all eyes were concentrated on her along with a ripple of silly smiles, âWhat? What is it?â
âThatâs all?â Marlon said sarcastically, throwing his hands in the air.
âGirl, is there anything you didnât bake?â Latoya joked.
âI couldnât decide⌠soâŚâ Y/N giggled, her hands up to hide her blush, âI made everything I could think ofâŚâ she adding, peeking through her fingers.
âWere you planning to feed all of Los Angeles?â Jermaine laughed, âShe single handedly bought out all the nearest grocery stores of flour and sugar.â
âGirl, as of this moment, you are officially appointed as the one and only, Jackson family baker.â Jackie gave her a thumbs up.
âYou gotta get her that new name MikeâŚâ Marlon mumbled, although, everyone heard it, they chose not to add on. In order to save their brother the embarrassment.
âLay off my girl, ya buttheads.â Michael waved them off. âSheâs excited for us. Yâall should count yourselves lucky. Baking is her love language, so if she bakes for you, know you are loved.â
âAwwww!â Rebbie cheered, âShe loves us guys!â
âAww! Does this mean youâll be my valentine?â Marlon teased, hand over his heart.
âYou guys! Sheâs got a special place in her heart just for us.â Randy continued, wiping away a fake tear. âOh, she probably writes about us in her diary!â
âI feel so loved! And, after dessert Iâm gonna feel so comatose.â Tito chimed in.
âYâall are annoying.â Y/N crossed her arms, looking away from them and biting back a laugh.
âYou canât get annoyed by people you love.â Jermaine tossed a crunched up napkin at her. âAnd, judging by how full this table is, you love us like crazy!â
âWe love you right back.â Jackie added.
âYes, we do.â Janet smiled, blowing a kiss, which Y/N theatrically caught and shoved in her pocket.
âYou hear that?â Tito teased, his hand squeezing Joesphâs shoulder. âYou love apple pie.â
âSo what? It donât take no talent to bake a damn pie.â Joesph spat, shaking off his sonâs hand.
âWhatâs with all the hostility?â Rebbie asked, annoyed with his behavior.
âI ainât rolling out no red carpet for this girl.â
âY/N.â Michael growled across the table, âHer name is Y/N.â
âWhatever.â Joesph threw down his fork, the sound of metal hitting the glass plate echoed and everyoneâs mood immediately sifted. They looked defeated. As always, Joesph had to ruin any special occasion. It was his expertise.
âSheâs been around our entire lives. You know her name.â Michael hissed, âYou know her name and choose to act like you donât. She doesnât deserve your anger.â
âKeep talking back and youâll see real anger!â He shouted back.
âYouâre always angry.â Michael raised his voice, âYou always take it out on me. Whatever. Youâre not going to do it to her.â
The idea of Michael giving Joesph an order sent a chill down the table. He became a whole new person with Y/N, the person he truly was and that made his siblings proud.
And, of course, fearful. Fearful of what this newfound confidence will unlock in Joesph.
âIâm not one of those big shot doctors at that fancy hospital you work at. You canât bat your little eyes and color me impressed.â Joesph snarled, surprisingly overlooking Michael words and fixing his glare on Y/N.
âJoesph.â Katherine scolded, wanting desperately to enjoy this night with her family, without any drama.
âI wonât be won over by a pretty smile and some kind words. Are you listening to me girl!â His fist crashed against the table, followed by a heavy uncomfortable silence. âIâm not dumb like my son. You give him a minute of your attention and heâs putty in your hands. Not. Me.â There it was. He made sure to insult his son and his lifelong best friend in one breath.
âMr. Jacksonââ
âJoesph. Youâll call me Joesph.â
âJoesph, the insinuation that Iâve accomplished what I have because of my looks is completely wrong. Not only is it offensive, itâs arrogant. Itâs like saying, the only reason you have all of this is because you rode your childrenâs coattails all the way to the promise land.â His eyes widened, and she smiled big, raising the fluted glass to her lips and taking a sip, âHowever, I suppose one of those insinuations is actually true. So, Joesph, would you say youâre making an arm and a leg off your sons this time around or, is it two arms and two legs? I know how passionate you are about fudging numbers.â
âWho do you think youâre talking toââ
âIâm talking to you.â Her voice steady, âLook at you. A nice new car in the driveway. Tell me, Iâd love to know, which one of your childrenâs bank accounts did you dip into for your shiny new accessory?â
âYou will respect me in this house! My house! How dare you come in here and say those false words to my face. Have you no decency?â
âRespect goes both ways.â She shrugged, âSince you claim to be a man all about his facts. Let me help you get your facts right. This is Michaelâs house and heâs been kind enough to allow you to live here.â
âI donât need to respect you! Youâre a girl that my son can and will replace in a week. I donât even need to learn your name. You ainât special.â He laughed bitterly, âAnd, you definitely ainât special to him. My boy has girls fainting over him, he has an endless supply of honeys to choose from. You ainât all that.â Michael straightened up, staring daggers at Joesph. You are special.
Everyone knows that. You are it.
âIâm a grown woman, not a girl and for the last time, my name is Y/N.â
âI donât care little girl! Iâm not one of your patients! Iâm not going to bow down or hang on your every word just because you wear a white coat!â
âAnd, I am not one of your children. You cannot intimidate or beat me into blind obedience.â No one dared move a muscle after those words were heard.
âWâ What did you just say to me?â
âYouâre nothing. Youâre weak. Youâre not a man. A real man wouldnât need to resort to violence to be heard. A real man wouldnât need to use his fists to build up the facade heâs actually worthy of being respected. The truth is, the only way you feel important is by putting your children down. They are good, in spite of you, they have beautiful hearts. They are daily reminders of everything youâll never be and you canât stand itâ you canât handle that they persevered and survived you. Jealousy is an ugly thing, wouldnât you agree?â
There was no telling Joesphâs next move, but no one felt afraid for Y/N. There wasnât a trace of fear on her face.
It was brilliant.
âYou stupid littleâ You are trash! Trash! I want you out of my house! Now!â He roared. âOut!â
âSheâs not going anywhere.â Katherine cut in.
âHave you not heard what this worthless little bitch has said to me! This pathetic piece of trash!â He shouted, picking up his plate and throwing it across the dining room.
âInsult me all you want. Iâll happily be the target of your aggression tonight. Everyone deserves a long overdue break from your juvenile tantrums.â Y/N crossed her arms, the siblings looked on, impressed at how unfazed she seemed.
âExcuse me?â Joesph rose from his seat, now, staring down at her. She exhaled, removing the napkin from her lap, folding and placing it on the table. The family watched closely as Y/N confidently pushed her chair back, standing to meet Joesphâs eye.
âJoseph, did you really not hear me or are you simply upset that I wonât back down to you?â She tilted her head, âIf youâve got such a strong desire to hear it again⌠Iâll repeat myself. Iâll even write it down, so you never forget it.â She finished with a smile.
âI heard you the first time.â
âGood.â
They stared at each other, until Joseph flicked his hand stiffly as if to say this conversation was beneath him. Then, stomped off, followed by the front door slamming and with that everyone could breathe again.
âIâm sorry.â Y/N said to Michael, her hand on his cheek. âI shouldnât haveââ
âNo. No. No. You didnât do anything wrong.â He grabbed her hand, kissing it gently.
âWe ainât mad at ya.â Jackie said and all the siblings nodded along. âYou handle business. As always.â
âItâs entertaining as hell too.â Randy giggled, giddy as ever. âSheâs feisty.â
âOne of these days, you gotta teach us how you do that!â Latoya emphasized, âHeâs scared of you. Ever since we were kids, sheâs always had his number.â She snapped her fingers, with a silly expression on her face.
âWho knew, a doctor, a baker and a boxer all in one.â Marlon smirked, âI didnât even know that existed.â
âCome on, my lil gangsta.â Janet skipped over, wrapping her arm around Y/Nâs shoulder. âLetâs go get dessert ready.â
âIâll help you.â Michael stood from his seat, following Y/N and sister into the kitchen. Once they were gone, everyone shared not so subtle glances, before bursting out into various levels of howling.
âMark my words. Michael is going to marry her.â Tito said, âShoot. I ainât mad. The lady can tear it up in the kitchen. She holds her own with Joesph. Sheâs meant to be a Jackson.â
âBoy, no one here was debating that.â Randy rolled his eyes, âWeâve been saying that since⌠well since forever. He is goo goo over her. Always has been.â
âYeah, sheâs a good one.â Marlon smiled, âSheâs perfect for him. How much longer is he gonna drag his feet? I donât get it.â
âYou know how Michael is. Heâs plotting, I know him. When it comes to her, heâs confident and deliberate. Heâll get her locked down when the time is right. My little brother is smart.â Jackie complemented.
âThereâs no way she doesnât have guys all over her though, she works in a hospital, surrounded by handsome doctors and bold patients⌠you think she has a boyfriend?â Jermaine questions, âThat would crush Mike.â
âShe doesnât have no boyfriend.â Katherine interrupted, âQuit talking crazy.â
âMama, you gossiping with us?â Latoya wiggled her shoulders.
âThat girl is all about Michael. Youâre blind if you canât see that.â Katherine said.
âYeah, theyâre in love. We all know that, I mean everyone but them.â Rebbie giggled, holding her hands up in frustration.
âMaybe we should give them a nudge.â Tito suggested, âYou know, discreetlyâŚâ
âNow, as much as I am tired of watching those two love sick fools trip over each other, there will be no nudging. Itâs best to let these things fall into place the way God intended.â Katherine smiled, âI trust itâll happen. And, Iâll be happy to say I witnessed it come together. Y/N is my bonus daughter, I know that in my heart.â
As they travelled through the halls backstage at Dodger Stadium, Michael kept a close eye on Y/N. He knew how difficult tonight would be, but made peace with the possibility of his family shunning him. Itâs a risk heâs willing to take. He wasnât afraid because she was on his team, they were a teamâ a damn good one. Heâs accepted the notion that she was the only one who genuinely, selflessly and completely had his back. If she was still by his side heâd be okay, in fact, heâd be better than okay.
The pair reached his dressing room, rushing inside and closing the door. Finally, the air was lighter and the space calmer and quiet. Y/N didnât waste a second, unpacking Michaelâs necessities and arranging them the way he liked.
He knew he had to get dressed, but he couldnât resist admiring her. She makes everything so magical. It made it impossible to look away.
So, he changed right there, no hiding. The perfect view of her gave him a boldness he didnât know was possible. Why not soak it in?
Y/N looked over everything once more, to ensure that everything Michael needed was there. Then, she collapsed onto the couch, her elbow sunk into the armrest and her chin in the palm of her hand. She quietly doted over Michael buttoning his shirt. Her eyes followed as he settled in front of the mirror. Heâs so focused on getting his curls to fall perfectly that he doesnât notice her eyes on him yet. If he knew, the only thing on her mind was how handsome he is, heâd probably combust. He starts to touch up his makeup. The sponge dances across his cheek and it was then his eyes found hers. Although, no one sees the small things, he doesâ and he hates it. He instantly feels hot and in need of a hiding place, pretending to look for something, he begins rummaging through an empty toiletry bag.
âMichael.â She was beside him without a second thought, the captivating scent of her perfume already calming him.
âY/NâŚâ
âYou are beautiful.â
âThe makeup only does so much.â He said, turning away. âItâs getting worse⌠my skin⌠Iâ I donât know how long I have until the makeup doesnât work anymore.â
âYou donât need it. I know the vitiligo makes you feel vulnerable, but you are so loved. Michael, I need you to look at me.â She took ahold of his hand.
âI canâtâŚâ
âMichael, please.â
He turned to face her, his eyes focused on the ground. His hands were trembling and his breath unsteady.
âMickey.â Her palms soft against his skin as she gently raised his head up. âGod creates beauty, donât you agree?â
âYes.â
âAnd, he created youâŚâ she booped his nose with a smile, âWhat does that tell you?â
âI donât knowâŚâ he tried to shrug her off, but she didnât let him.
âYou know. Michael, say it. Itâs true, you just need to believe it.â
âGod⌠creates beauty.â His voice so soft.
âAndâŚâ
âHe created me.â
âYes, he did. Letâs hear it again.â The pads of her thumbs tenderly caressing the rosiness spreading through his cheeks.
âGod creates beauty. He created me.â Michael leaned in, resting his forehead against hers, âI am beautiful. I am Gods creation and he creates beauty. I am beautiful.â
âThatâs right.â
âOur whole lives, youâve always known exactly what to say, exactly what I need to hear at the perfect time.â He faced the mirror again, much happier with his reflection, âYou know, sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself.â
âOh, I definitely do.â
âWeâve always had that, even as kids, we just got each other.â He took a step in her direction, his hands attached to her hips like a magnet. âThere are times, it feels like were connected⌠we could be in different states, shoot, even on different continents and I know what you were feeling⌠I could feel it, feel you.â
âI know. It gets intense at times.â She felt bashful, leaning her head on his shoulder, fiddling with the bedazzled details of his jacket. âMakes it feel like weâre the only two people on Earth⌠no one elseââ
âNo one else understands me the way you do.â Michael sighed, effortlessly finishing Y/Nâs thought.
âThatâs what I was going to say.â She laughed against his chest, tilting her head up only to see him already smiling back at her.
âI know.â
It was the first chords of Shake Your Body that snapped Michael back to reality. The thousands of smiling faces, the screams that morphed into one loud booming. Heâd all but left his body for the entirety of the show, but now is the moment, his moment. One minute the countdown to showtime was being announced, the next it was almost over.
âYouâre going to be incredible. You always are.â She smiled up at him, that smile that made him feel like he could fly. A delicate kiss to each of his cheeks, covering him with good luck.
âI think Iâll need to take you with me.â He chuckled nervously, holding her hand with all his might.
âYou can do this. Iâm with you.â It was tradition, sheâd watch from backstage, the right side to be exact. âYou know where to find me.â
âI can do this. If I get lost Iâll look to you. That always calms me down.â He pulled her in close, âI can do this. I have my Minnie.â
âYou have me Mickey. You have me.â She tilted her head upward to look at him. They fell under one anotherâs gaze.
âIâ I seriously love you.â Michael professed, his voice raw, leaving a trail of goosebumps across her body.
âI love you, seriously.â She responded with such emotion he felt weak in the knees, her arms around his waist the only thing keeping him on his feet.
âMike!â Marlon yelled, eyebrow arched and arms crossed, âAm I interrupting something?â
âYes. Our pre-show rituals.â
âOur? How cute!â
âWhat do you want, you schmuck?â
âItâs showtime.â He drummed his hands on the table, âDonât you worry, Iâll hold his hand while weâre out there. Keep it warm for you darling.â He threw his arms around his brother, trying to land a kiss on his cheek.
âYou crazy goon. Get off meâ Michael cackled, pushing him away. âLetâs go.â His hand outstretched in her direction as Marlon went on, rambling about someone stealing his hair gel. Michael could do that, do just about anything all while giving his undivided attention to Y/N. Truthfully, it was second nature. A reflex, his body always accounted for her.
âLetâs do this.â Marlon couldnât contain the joy he felt walking behind Michael and Y/N. They were exactly what one another needed. He could feel it. The sight of their intertwined hands made him look forward to the future.
Especially, their future.
His little brother had a future, it was bright and full of everything heâd always dreamt of.
55,000 thousand people filled Dodger Stadium, each of the brothers took in this feeling. All, but one. Michael was pacing the stage, finally he brought the microphone to his lips, tucking his hand in his pocket. Yet, he couldnât get the words out.
Y/N saw the panic on his face, hopping off the case she was sitting on. He felt it immediately, his eyes following in the direction his heart was tugging him toward.
There she is.
A sweet smile gracing her face, he felt it again. Strength.
His eyes focused on his lady, his Minnie, who made him feel worthy and special.
A flirty wink with her name on it. She giggled, blowing a kiss back, helping him find his voice again.
Finally, he spoke.
"I'd like to say... this is our last and final tour... I think this is our farewell tour. You've all been wonderful. It's been a long 20 years. And we love you all".
Michaelâs unexpected announcement didnât stop the screams from the crowd. His brothers stepped forward, connecting hands and taking their final bow. They share a long group hug, the flash of cameras mimicking that of lightning. It was truly a sight to see. The Jacksons wave goodnight, heading towards the stage exits. Jackie, Tito, Jermaine, Marlon and Randy disappearing behind the left curtain and Michael behind the right. It wasnât planned to leave in separate directions, but it seemed like another statement in itself. Michael followed Y/N like she was his North Star, closing the distance between them in record time. He takes hold of her, clutching her against his chest as he moved them deeper backstage. No doubt wanting to get out of there. She knew, holding him tightly and moving her feet in sync with his.
There was shouting getting closer, Michaelâs grip tightening around his best friend, anticipating for what was about to happen. He wanted to shield her from itâ he had to.
âWho the hell do you think you are!â Joesph barked, running ahead to block the exit. âYou better look at me boy! Look me in the eye you little shit!â
âJoe, itâs over.â Bill stepped in between the father and son. âLetâs not make a scene.â
âBe a man! Youâre pathetic! I made you! You are nothing! Always have been, always will be! For once in your miserable life, be a man andââ
âEnough!â Y/N interrupted, âThatâs enough!â Her hand protectively placed on Michaelâs chest as she glared at his father.
âYou!â Joesph shifted his focus, his wicked finger pointed in her face. âThis is your fault! You turned him against his family! You manipulative money hungry little bitch!â He attempted to step closer. âYouâre poison! I knew you were rotten! You want to ruin our family! Youââ
âYou! You are the poison!â Michael shouted, everything came to a halt. He pushed his fatherâs hand away from Y/Nâs face. âY/N supports my decisions, she does not make them for me. She is family. My family. She isnât going anywhere. Sheâs not intimidated by you and neither am I. You canât control me anymoreâ never again. Iâm not gonna allow you to brainwash me into walking away from the best thing thatâs ever happened to me.â He stepped closer, placing Y/N behind him and Bill stood close at his side. âIâm done being used. You bullied me into being your cash cow, you thought Iâd never stand up for myself. I wish it didnât take so long, but I am done. You hear me? I am done! You accept this or you donât either way itâs happening. And, if you ever speak to my girl like that again, I promise itâll be the last you ever see of me.â
Joesph stood dumbfounded, staggered steps backward until his shoulder hit the wall. He was speechless, for once. They didnât expect or wait for a response, they didnât even spare him a glance. Michael extended a protective arm around his girl, she felt a gentle squeeze against her hip as he guided her away from this mess.
Bill got them to the car quickly and unscathed. Michael and Y/Nâs hands tied together the entire time, however, he chose not to bring attention to it.
The car ride was silent, but pleasant. Before he knew it the kids had drifted off, exactly like when they actually were kids. Michael leaning against the interior of the door and Y/N snuggled up into his side.
He couldnât help but watch over them proudly. Theyâd really grown up, his silly little kids, now adults. He wouldnât change a thingâ they turned out to be everything he knew theyâd live up to and more. He felt so blessed to have been there every step of the way.
Michael stirred slightly, squinting as he tried to figure out where he was.
âGet some sleep. Iâll wake you when weâre home.â Bill whispered.
Michael tilted his head, âYou ever sleep? Youâre like The Terminator.â
âOh, hush.â
âCan we stop for burgers and shakes?â Michael grinned, releasing Y/Nâs hand and adjusting his arm around her waist. Michaelâs back to the cushion, holding her against his chest like she was the most delicate thing heâd ever laid his eyes on.
âThatâs a good idea. I could eat.â
âIâm starving.â His fingers ran through Y/Nâs hair as she slept peacefully. Heâs so natural with her. He can be a person with her. He can be himself.
âSleeping beauty here held her own.â Bill had been holding in a laugh all night. âWe outta start calling her Princess Punch.â
âYeah, what can I say, she knows how to take care of business.â Michael kissed the top of her head, his eyes fluttering shut, but still awake.
âSheâs a gem.â
âSheâs a diamond.â Michael corrected.
âMhm. You better be planning to give her one sometime soon.â
âWhat makes you think I havenât already?â Michael shot back with heavy cheekiness and a smug look on his face.
âGo to sleep, ya rascal. Iâll wake you both for food.â They laughed as Michael got comfortable, soon the sound of his gentle snores filled the backseat.
Bill studied their faces, even in deep slumber, the love between them was undeniable. He was so happy for his boy, for both of them. Suddenly, a chuckle sounded from his mouth, recalling the first time he experienced these two together.
It was magic.
âCome on. We canât be late little man.â Bill announced, pacing the living room carpet of the Jackson house.
âWeâre coming!â Michaelâs little voice called back, followed by a jumble of scrambling noises.
Bill had learned not to question the âwe.â Michael was always bringing along his little pet friends. They brought him great comfort, which was more than okay with his chosen protector. So, when the young musician descended the stairs with a bright eyed girl on his tail, Bill was just the tiniest bit surprised.
âHi! Iâm Y/N.â The young girl spoke, her hand extended towards Bill, âItâs a pleasure to meet you, sir.â
âHello, you can call me Bill.â He shook her hand, taken aback with how independent she seemed. It was a hell of a first impression to say the least.
âAlright, weâre ready!â Michael held his arm out, allowing Y/N to walk ahead of him.
âWoah, woah, hold on now.â The two kids looked at one another confused, âAre Joesph and Y/Nâs parents aware sheâll be joining us today?â Bill locked the front door and walked down the path with both kids skipping around him.
âOf course. Iâm Michaelâs best friend.â Y/N replied like it was something he shouldâve known. âWhere he goes, I go.â
âAnd, where she goes, I go.â Michael explained, âSheâs my entourage.â
âIs that right?â Bill beamed, this boy was always full of surprises. They stood on the sidewalk to continue the conversation.
âThe news called me a rising star. Thatâs a small step away from celebrity. I need to surround myself with people that will keep me grounded.â Michael spoke like it was common sense. âThatâs where Y/N comes in!â
âExactly, I knew him before the fame, so he can trust me. Iâll make sure that no one takes advantage of him or tries to get close to him for the wrong reasons.â Y/N nodded, crossing her arms.
âThatâs sweet. However, I believe thatâs my job.â Bill held the door open, helping them to load their backpacks into the car.
âI suppose, but heâs my best friend. Fame, it can change people. I donât want them to change my Michael.â There was more tied between those words, but Bill couldnât quite understand it just yet.
He made his way to the driverâs side in time to catch the most important part.
âDonât worry Minnie. I ainât changing.â Michael held his pinky out for herâ a pinky promise to seal the deal. They buckled in, flipping through their comic books as the car started moving.
âMickey! Look!â She screeched, holding the comic she was reading up to him. They both cried out laughing uncontrollably.
After an hour, the backseat fell silent and Bill could finally hear the radio again. He peeked through the rearview mirror, his two little passengers had drifted off to sleep. Michael was sprawled out on top of an oversized teddy bear, Y/N curled up into his side and of course, their hands were clasped together.
Bill chuckled lowly, at that age, every friendship feels like itâs going to last a lifetime. You donât know that youâll make new friends all the time. Some friends will grow with you, some wonât and you see them less and less. Eventually, you move on. You bounce back a lot faster as a kid.
But, he had this feeling.
And, it was stronger than a hunch, he could feel it, these two were special.
Michael was glowing. He was truly happy. That didnât happen. Ever. The way he was expected to carry so much on his shoulders. He dealt with so much pressure and pain. Bill always had trouble understanding how he did it all. Heâs so young, but no matter how much was taken from him he was still kind. He never got the chance to be a kid, to be himselfâ without judgment.
He deserved to have someone who embraced who he is. He really is such an amazing kid.
He had found that with this sensational little lady.
She helped him to be a kid, instead of staring at him or poking fun at him. She knew how great he was and appreciated him. Hell, she even wanted to tag along as his entourage just to protect him.
This young lady, sheâs his escape. And, she was determined to be there for her best friend by any means necessary.
That made one fact very clear.
They were going to grow up together. They were going to be inseparable in every era of their lives.
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an: lowercase on purpose since it was typed in my notes. i haven't written for someone who isn't a fictional character in so long, so this may be rusty. but i love michael jackson so much, and the movie caused my obsession to come forward again!
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the piercing of the phone ringing startled her during the process of doing her hair. padding into the bedroom to pick up the phone on the bedside table.Â
âhelloâ she answered her tone gentle.Â
âhey kid iâm on my way to come pick you up okay?â billâs voice came through the receiver but his tone different than usual.Â
âalready? bill whatâs going on?â worry seeping into her voice.Â
âthereâs been an incident filming the commercial. iâll come get you so you can see him when he wakes up. okay?â his voice steady. the thing is she already knew the questions that would be raised by the family when they see her there. her and michael got married in secret. bill was the witness alone with the justice of the peace. itâs not that he didnât want them to know but joseph wouldâve tried stopping him from seeing her. he loved having something that was just for him and not for the media to pick apart.Â
âiâll see you soon billâ she said softly doing her best not to cry.Â
âsee you soon kidâ he said before hanging up. she held in her tears as she slipped on a pair of loose fitting trousers and a mickey mouse sweater that belongs to michael before grabbing her purse to wait on the porch for bill. when he pulled up she ran out locking the door getting in the car before bill had the chance to get out to let her in like usual.Â
âwhat happened?â voice trembling as she spoke.Â
âa spark caught his hair and it caught on fire. heâs got burns on his scalpâ bill responds solemnly leaving the driveway making his way to the hospital. âthe family is there and i know the situation. but i also know you make him feel seenâ he squeezes her shoulder affectionately. she gives him a wobbly smile as she reaches in the glovebox putting on her sunglasses.Â
âthank you for coming to get meâ she leaned against the window watching buildings pass by as they made their way to the hospital. bill led her in keeping a reassuring hand on her back as they made their way in. bill led her past the family straight to the nurses station. speaking low so no one could eavesdrop. after getting confirmation michael was awake, he immediately led her to the back; ignoring the questions especially from an irritated joseph who demanded to know who she thought she was. bill opened the door first after knocking gently.Â
âhey sonâ bill greeted michael, âbrought you something that might lift your spiritsâ he gently pushed her forward. she made her way to the end of his hospital bed.Â
âhi my darlingâ she gave him the softest yet brightest smile that was reserved only for him. michael reached for her and she interlocked their fingers as he gave a weak tug pulling her to his side. âhow bad is it?â her hand cradles his cheek. michael couldnât get an answer out just slightly choked as tears welled up in his eyes.Â
âsecond and third degree burnsâ he mumbles before bill steps out into the hallway to give them space to talk. as soon as he stepped into the hall he was confronted by katherine.Â
âbill who was that girl?â she asked expecting an answer from the person closest to her son.Â
âsorry mrs. jackson, michael will have to answer that for youâ he looked at the door that kept the two young adults heâs grown to care about. michael being like a son to him for years and ever since youâve been around he naturally treated you like his own as well.Â
âbill pleaseâ katherine looked up at him, but he could only shake his head.Â
âiâll ask if heâs ready for you to come inâ bill says knocking lightly stepping back into the room. greeted by the sight of her curled up beside him in the hospital bed (per michaelâs request). âmike your mom wants to see youâ billâs voice breaking the brief peaceful moment.Â
âshe can come inâ michael looked down at his wife. ânow might be a better time than ever to introduce you properlyâ his hand found its way into her hair playing with it.Â
âare you sure? what if she doesnât like me? oh my gosh what if she doesnât like meâ she starts to panic until michael pressed his lips to her forehead.Â
ârelax baby. sheâll love youâ he looks up at bill with a small nod to let his mother in. when katherine walked into the room her eyes met with the young woman who was curled against her son in a protective manor.
âmother this is my wifeâ michael introduced her, âbaby this is my motherâ he rubbed her back encouragingly.
âhi mrs. jacksonâ she sits up extending her hand for a handshake. mentally kicking herself for the action. shockingly instead of shaking her hand katherine grabs it and tugs her forward into a hug crying into her shoulder.
âthank youâ katherine whispers into her ear. she understood exactly what that meant âthank you for loving my son. thank you for being here for him right nowâ. she melts into the hug with a smile on her face. michael and bill also smiled at the moment. âwait a minute. wife? michael joseph jacksonâ katherine scolds looking at her son after she lets her newly discovered daughter in law go. âhow long have you been married?â his mother had her hands on her hips looking at him expectantly. while his wife giggles hiding behind bill.Â
âa yearâ michael answered quietly. the giggles stopped as she fully hid behind bill now. michael despite his pain looked nervously between his mother and his wife.Â
âa year. married for a year and didnât even tell your mother?â katherine sat at his bedside giving him a motherly glare. âdo i need to ask how long you knew her before?â even bill turned and faced the corner to not be part of this conversation.Â
âwe met new yearâs day 1979â michael admits to his mother looking over at his wife with a dopey smile as she walked back over rejoining him in the hospital bed.Â
âwe can talk about this when you get better young manâ
âyes motherâ in that moment michael knew it was doing go to be getting the most stern talking to of his life.Â
âyouâre absolutely stunning sweetheartâ katherine compliments her daughter in law smiling.Â
âthank you mrs. jacksonâ she returns the smile.Â
âyou can call me mother, weâre family now after allâ katherine insisted.Â
âi told you not to worryâ michael grinned at his wife who rolled her eyes at him.Â
âyouâre still in trouble with your mom when you get out right?â his wife laughs placing a kiss on his cheek.Â
âdonât care now i can talk to someone else about my baby. not just bill and qâ his grin not going away. despite the unfortunate reason that landed them in the hospital room, there was now a lighthearted feeling that hung in the atmosphere.Â
SYNOPSIS: The first time you follow Toji Fushiguro, he tells you to stop. The second time, he corners you and asks what you want. By the third time⌠heâs already waiting.
WORD COUNT: 12.3k
The rain in Tokyo never felt clean. It came down in greasy sheets that smelled like exhaust and old concrete, pooling in the gutters of the narrow backstreets behind Kabukicho where the neon signs flickered like dying fireflies. You pulled the hood of your black raincoat tighter, the fabric already soaked through at the shoulders. Your sneakers squelched with every step, but you kept your pace steady. Three blocks behind the man youâd been tracking for the last two hours.
Toji Fushiguro.
Youâd first heard the name three weeks ago in a smoke-filled izakaya tucked behind a pachinko parlor. A low-level curse user with a broken nose and too much sake in his veins had been bragging about âthe guy who doesnât need cursed energy to make sorcerers disappear.â Heâd laughed like it was a joke, but his eyes had darted around the room like he expected the man himself to step out of the shadows. Youâd paid for his next drink, asked the right questions, and left with a description that still made your stomach tighten: tall, broad, scar at the corner of his mouth, eyes like chipped jade. No allegiance. No mercy. Just money and whatever violence paid the most.
You werenât a sorcerer. You werenât even a curse user. You were just⌠you. A civilian who had seen too much of the world most people pretended didnât exist. A family member lost to a curse three years ago, a police report that called it a âgas leak,â and a quiet, burning need to understand the things that moved in the dark. Tojiâs name kept coming up in the places where the veil between normal and nightmare thinned. People said he killed sorcerers for sport. People said he took jobs no one else would touch. People said if you followed him long enough, youâd either learn something worth knowing or youâd end up in a ditch.
You chose to follow.
Tonight he was moving like he had somewhere to be. Long strides eating up the wet pavement, black jacket slung over one shoulder, the white compression shirt underneath clinging to the hard lines of muscle across his back. A duffel bag hung from his opposite hand, heavy enough that the strap bit into his shoulder. You kept your distance, ducking behind vending machines and clusters of salarymen stumbling out of hostess clubs. You thought you were invisible.
You were wrong.
He stopped at the mouth of a narrow alley that smelled like rotting fish and wet cardboard. The streetlight overhead buzzed, casting his shadow long and jagged across the ground. For a second he just stood there, head slightly tilted, rain sliding down the back of his neck and darkening his hair.
Then, without turning around, voice low and rough like gravel dragged over concrete:
âYouâre bad at this.â
Your heart slammed against your ribs so hard you felt it in your teeth. He didnât raise his voice. The words carried anyway, cutting through the rain and the distant city noise like a knife through wet paper.
You froze mid-step, one foot still lifted. He still hadnât turned. Just stood there, shoulders loose, like he was bored.
âThought youâd quit after the third block,â he continued, the scar at the corner of his mouth pulling as he spoke. âMost people do. Youâre either stupid or stubborn. Havenât decided which yet.â
Slowly, he pivoted. The movement was casual, almost lazy, but there was nothing lazy about the way his eyes locked onto you. The kind of gaze that measured how fast youâd bleed if he decided you were worth the effort. Rainwater dripped from the tips of his hair and ran down the side of his face, tracing the line of that scar before disappearing under his jaw.
He was bigger up close. Not just tall, he was solid. The kind of build that came from years of breaking things that tried to break him first. The duffel bag stayed gripped in one hand, fingers loose but ready.
You swallowed. Your voice came out steadier than you expected. âIâm not here to cause trouble.â
A short, humorless huff of a laugh escaped him. âYeah? Couldâve fooled me. Youâve been on my ass since Shinjuku Station. Thought it was a coincidence at first. Then you switched trains when I did.â He took one step closer, boots splashing through a puddle. The alley behind him yawned dark and empty, the perfect place for someone to disappear. âMost stalkers at least try to blend in. You look like youâre playing dress-up in a spy movie.â
Heat crawled up your neck. You hadnât thought you were that obvious. Youâd changed coats twice, kept your head down, stayed in the crowds. Apparently none of it mattered.
Tojiâs eyes dragged over you slowly and assessing. Not leering. Just cataloging. The way your raincoat clung to your frame, the way your hands were clenched at your sides, the way you hadnât run yet. Something like irritation flickered across his face, there and gone.
âLast chance, kid,â he said, voice dropping an octave. âTurn around. Go home. Pretend you never saw me. Whatever little game youâre playing ends here.â
You didnât move.
He waited. Three full seconds of rain drumming on metal roofs and distant car horns. When you still stood there, jaw set, eyes locked on his, the corner of his mouth twitched again. This time not quite a smirk, closer to annoyance.
âStubborn it is.â He exhaled through his nose, shoulders shifting like he was already dismissing you. âFine. Keep following if you want. Just know I donât do warnings twice.â He turned on his heel, boots scraping wet concrete, and started walking again like you were nothing more than a stray cat that had picked the wrong alley.
You let him get half a block ahead before you started moving again. Your pulse was still hammering, but your feet obeyed before your brain could talk you out of it. He didnât look back. Not once. But you could feel the shift in the air between you, like the tension on a tripwire stretched taut.
By the time you reached the next intersection, the rain had eased into a drizzle. Toji disappeared into the crowd outside a 24-hour konbini, the fluorescent light washing over his broad back for a split second before he was gone again. You lingered across the street, watching the automatic doors slide shut behind him.
You told yourself it was just curiosity. You told yourself youâd stop once you figured out what he was really after tonight. You told yourself a lot of things.
But when he emerged five minutes later with a fresh pack of cigarettes and a can of black coffee, he didnât even glance your way before heading deeper into the district. And you followed.
Again.
The game had started, whether he liked it or not.
And Toji Fushiguro? He already knew the rules better than you ever would.
The next morning hit you like a hangover you hadnât earned. Your legs ached from the miles youâd walked the night before, and your rain-soaked clothes were still draped over the back of a chair in your tiny studio apartment in the outskirts of Ikebukuro, dripping faint puddles onto the tatami mats. You stood in front of the cracked mirror above the sink, splashing cold water on your face, and stared at your own reflection. Dark circles under your eyes. Hair still damp and sticking to your forehead. A faint bruise on your shin from bumping into a bicycle rack while trying to keep up with him in the dark. You should have felt fear. Rational people would have. But instead there was this low, electric hum under your skin. Something that tasted like defiance and curiosity braided together so tightly you couldnât tell them apart anymore.
You told yourself it was research. You told yourself that if you could just figure out what made a man like Toji Fushiguro tick. Like what jobs he took, who he answered to, why the underground whispered his name like a curse and a prayer at the same time. Then maybe you could understand the world that had swallowed your cousin whole three years ago. The one the police called a âgas leakâ and the sorcerers never even bothered to acknowledge. But deep down you knew it was more than that. He had looked right through you last night, like you were an inconvenience he could swat away, and something in you had refused to be swatted.
So you went back out.
Day two started in Shinjuku again, but this time the city felt different. It felt more sharper, more alive with the kind of tension that hummed just beneath the surface of the crowds. You spotted him at 10:17 a.m. outside the west exit of the station, the same duffel bag from last night slung over his shoulder, now looking a little lighter. He was wearing a different shirt today. Today was a faded black, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the thick cords of muscle and the faint white lines of old scars that crisscrossed his forearms like a map of every fight heâd won. The scar at the corner of his mouth was more noticeable in daylight, pulling slightly when he lit a cigarette with a cheap plastic lighter. He didnât scan the crowd. He didnât need to. You could feel it the second his eyes flicked in your general direction, even though you were half-hidden behind a newspaper stand selling overpriced tourist maps.
He started walking.
You followed.
This time he didnât bother with the subtle stuff. He cut through the busiest parts of Kabukicho at midday, weaving between salarymen on lunch breaks and clusters of giggling office ladies in their pencil skirts. He moved faster than before. With long, purposeful strides that forced you to jog intermittently just to keep him in sight without breaking into a full run. You ducked into doorways, pretended to check your phone at crosswalks, once even slipped into a Lawson to buy a bottle of water just to look normal. But every time you emerged, he was still there, ahead by exactly the right distance to make you think you might lose him if you blinked.
By the time he veered off the main streets and into the narrower back alleys near Golden Gai, the air had grown thick with the smell of yakitori grease and stale beer. The buildings here leaned in close, laundry lines strung between them like spiderwebs, and the ground was slick with yesterdayâs rain that hadnât quite dried. Toji disappeared around a corner. You hurried after him, heart picking up speed, only to find the alley splitting into three narrower passages. No sign of him. You chose the middle one on instinct. The darkest, the one that smelled faintly of mold and something metallic.
Wrong choice.
Youâd only gone ten meters when you heard it: the low scrape of a boot behind you. You spun around, but the alley was empty. Just shadows and a stray cat watching you from a windowsill with disinterested yellow eyes. Your pulse thudded in your ears. You kept going. Another thirty meters and the passage opened into a small, forgotten courtyard behind an abandoned pachinko parlor. Graffiti covered the walls in violent slashes of red and black. Broken bottles crunched under your sneakers.
And there he was.
Leaning against the far wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, cigarette dangling from his lips. He hadnât even broken a sweat. The duffel bag sat at his feet like it weighed nothing. His green eyes locked onto yours the second you stepped into view, and this time there was no boredom in them. Just a flat, assessing irritation that made the scar at his mouth twitch.
âTwo days in a row,â he said, voice low and rough, carrying easily across the small space. He took a slow drag, exhaling smoke that curled up toward the gray sky. âYouâre either the most dedicated idiot Iâve ever seen or youâve got a death wish. Which is it?â
You didnât answer right away. Your throat felt tight, but you forced yourself to stand your ground, shoulders squared even though every instinct screamed at you to back up. He was bigger in daylight. Six-foot-something of solid, battle-hardened muscle that made the courtyard feel smaller just by existing in it. The compression shirt from last night had been replaced by something looser, but it still clung to the wide spread of his shoulders and the taper of his waist. A faint sheen of sweat glistened at the hollow of his throat where his shirt collar dipped.
âI told you,â you said, surprised at how steady your voice came out. âIâm not here to cause trouble.â
Toji let out a short, humorless laugh that sounded more like a growl. âYeah, and I told you to quit. Most people listen when I talk.â He pushed off the wall with one shoulder, closing half the distance between you in two lazy steps. The cigarette flicked away into a puddle where it hissed out. Up close, you could smell the faint mix of tobacco, clean sweat, and something sharper. âYou following me into places like this? Not smart. These alleys eat civilians for breakfast.â
You swallowed but didnât step back. âIâm not a civilian in the way you think.â
His eyebrow lifted a fraction, the closest thing to genuine surprise youâd seen on his face yet. He studied you again, slower this time, eyes dragging from the scuffed toes of your sneakers up to the way your jacket hung slightly askew from all the dodging. âNo cursed energy. No technique. No backup. Just you and whatever dumb reasonâs got you glued to my shadow.â He tilted his head, scar pulling as his mouth curved into something that wasnât quite a smirk. âPersistent. Iâll give you that. Most tails I shake off in under an hour. Youâre on day two and still breathing.â
He turned then, like the conversation bored him, and started walking again. Deeper into the maze of alleys that led toward the more rundown parts of the district, the kind of places where streetlights flickered out early and the only eyes watching were the ones that knew better than to ask questions. You followed. Of course you did.
The rest of that day blurred into a test of endurance. He took routes that made no sense. Doubling back through crowded markets, slipping into subway stations only to exit three stops later and hail a cab that he ditched after two blocks. Once he sprinted across a busy intersection just as the light changed, forcing you to weave through honking cars and angry drivers shouting in Japanese. Your lungs burned. Your calves screamed. But every time you thought youâd lost him for good, heâd reappear just far enough ahead that you could still see the broad line of his back, the way his jacket shifted with each stride like it was barely containing the power underneath.
By evening, the sky had turned the color of bruised plums, and heâd led you all the way to a quiet industrial stretch near the Sumida River. Warehouses loomed on either side, windows dark, chains rattling in the wind. The air smelled of rust and river mud. Toji stopped at the edge of a chain-link fence that surrounded what looked like an old storage yard. He didnât turn around this time. Just stood there, shoulders loose, head slightly cocked like he was listening to the way your footsteps slowed behind him.
âYouâre still here,â he muttered, more to himself than to you. The irritation in his voice had shifted. Less sharp, more... intrigued? Like he was turning over a puzzle he hadnât expected to be interesting. He glanced over his shoulder, green eyes catching the last of the sunset light. âNot scared off by the alleys. Not scared off by the speed. Not even by the fact that I couldâve snapped your neck back there and no one wouldâve blinked.â
You stopped a few meters away, chest heaving, but your chin stayed up. Sweat trickled down the back of your neck. Your hands were trembling slightly from adrenaline, but you clenched them into fists at your sides so he wouldnât see.
Toji exhaled through his nose, a sound that was almost a chuckle but darker. He ran a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and for the first time you noticed the way the muscles in his arm flexed. Casual, effortless, but carrying the kind of strength that could crush bone without trying. âMost people who tail me want something. Money. A job. Revenge. You? You just... follow. Like a stray that doesnât know when to quit.â
He didnât wait for an answer. He vaulted the fence in one smooth motion, landing silently on the other side, and disappeared between the rows of rusted shipping containers. You climbed after him. Though clumsier, slower, scraping your palm on the wire but you made it. The yard was a labyrinth of shadows and echoing metal. You moved carefully, listening for his footsteps, but all you caught was the distant hum of the city and the soft lap of the river against the concrete bank.
When you finally rounded a container and saw him again, he was sitting on a stack of wooden pallets, legs spread, elbows resting on his knees. The duffel bag was open beside him now, and you caught a glimpse of something metallic inside. Tools? Weapons? Before he zipped it shut with a casual flick of his wrist. He was watching you. Not with the flat dismissal from last night. This was different. Calculating. Like he was measuring how long youâd last before you broke.
âThird timeâs the charm, huh?â he said, voice carrying low across the empty yard. The scar at his mouth twitched again, but this time there was the barest hint of something else in his eyesâcuriosity, maybe. Or the first flicker of reluctant tolerance. âYou donât scare easy. Iâll give you that much. Most civilians wouldâve pissed themselves by now.â
He stood up slowly, unfolding all that height and muscle until he towered over the space between you. The river wind tugged at his jacket, pressing the fabric against the hard planes of his chest. He took one step closer, then another, until the distance between you felt charged, like the air right before a storm. Not touching. Not yet. But close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him, smell the faint salt of his skin mixed with the cigarette smoke that still clung to his clothes.
âKeep it up if you want,â he said, voice dropping an octave, rougher now. âBut Iâm not slowing down for you next time. And the places I go after dark? They donât play nice with pretty little shadows who donât know when to stop.â
He brushed past you then. Close enough that his arm grazed your shoulder, sending a jolt through you that had nothing to do with fear. You turned to watch him go, boots crunching over gravel as he headed toward the far gate of the yard. He didnât look back.
But you could feel his awareness of you now, like a hook sunk deep under your ribs. He wasnât just irritated anymore.
He was starting to watch you back.
You followed him out of the yard anyway, the city lights flickering on around you like silent witnesses. Your body hurt. Your mind was spinning with questions. But the pull was stronger than ever. The stubborn refusal to let go of whatever this was becoming.
Toji Fushiguro had set the rules of the game.
And you had just decided you were going to play them all the way to the end.
The third day felt different from the start.
You woke up before dawn, muscles still sore from the previous dayâs marathon through Tokyoâs underbelly. The scrape on your palm from climbing the fence had scabbed over into an angry red line, and your calves burned with every step across your small apartment. You stood at the window overlooking the gray sprawl of Ikebukuro, sipping bitter instant coffee, and stared at the faint reflection of your face in the glass. There were new shadows under your eyes, but your gaze was steadier and sharper now. The curiosity that had first driven you had twisted into something deeper, more insistent. You werenât just gathering information anymore. You were proving something to yourself: that you could exist in his world without breaking. That the man everyone warned you about wasnât untouchable.
You didnât have to search for him that morning. He found you first.
It happened outside the small ramen shop youâd ducked into for a quick breakfast around 7:30 a.m. The place was cramped, steam thick in the air, the clatter of bowls and chopsticks a constant background hum. You were halfway through a bowl of tonkotsu when the stool beside you scraped back. You didnât need to look up to know who it was. The sheer presence of him filled the narrow space like smoke. Broad shoulders, the faint scent of cigarettes and clean sweat cutting through the pork broth and garlic.
Toji dropped onto the stool with casual grace, one elbow resting on the counter, his body angled just enough that his knee brushed the side of your thigh under the bar. He didnât order anything. Just sat there, green eyes fixed on the side of your face as the old man behind the counter slid a bowl in front of him without being asked. The scar at the corner of his mouth pulled slightly when he picked up the chopsticks.
âMorning, shadow,â he said, voice low enough that only you could hear it over the noise. The word came out almost lazy, but there was an edge to it now. There was less irritation, more something testing. Probing. âDidnât expect you to still be limping around after yesterday. Figured youâd sleep in. Nurse those pretty little bruises.â
Your spoon paused mid-air. Heat crawled up your neck at the casual way he mentioned your exhaustion, like heâd been cataloging every sign of strain on your body the entire time. You forced yourself to take another bite, keeping your tone even. âIâm not limping.â
A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. Deep and rough, the kind that vibrated through the air between you. âSure youâre not.â He leaned in slightly, his shoulder crowding yours, the heat of his arm radiating through the thin fabric of your jacket. Up close like this, you could see the fine details: the way stubble shadowed his jaw, the faint white lines of scars disappearing under the collar of his black shirt, the thick muscle of his forearm flexing as he lifted noodles to his mouth. He ate like he did everything else. Efficient, unhurried, but with an underlying power that made the simple act feel dangerous.
He didnât say anything else for a while. Just ate in silence, his knee still pressed lightly against yours, refusing to give you space. Every time you shifted to create distance, he shifted too, casual as breathing, until the contact felt deliberate. Not aggressive. Not yet. Just⌠invasive. Testing how far he could push before you flinched.
When the meal was done, he paid for both bowls with a crumpled bill tossed onto the counter, then stood. âCome on. Weâre walking.â
You blinked. âWe?â
Tojiâs eyes flicked down to you, the scar twitching with the barest hint of a smirk. âYouâve been following me for three days. Might as well make it official. Unless youâre finally done playing pretend.â
He didnât wait for an answer. He headed for the door, and you followed. Because of course you did. The streets were just waking up, salarymen rushing past with briefcases, delivery bikes weaving through traffic. Toji set a brutal pace again, but this time he made sure you stayed close. Heâd slow just enough for you to catch up, then accelerate without warning, forcing you to weave through the crowd beside him instead of behind. Once, when a group of tourists blocked the sidewalk, he grabbed your elbow. His large, calloused hand wrapping easily around your arm and pulled you through the gap, his grip firm but not bruising. He let go the second you were clear, but the phantom heat of his fingers lingered on your skin for blocks.
The real test came in the afternoon.
He led you into a part of the city youâd only heard rumors about. A decaying industrial zone on the edge of the Sumida River where old factories stood like skeletons, their windows shattered and walls tagged with faded gang signs. The air smelled of rust, stagnant water, and distant smoke from a trash fire someone had lit under a bridge. Toji walked ahead, but every few minutes heâd vanish around a corner only to reappear suddenly behind you, his voice low and close to your ear.
âStill breathing back there?â
Youâd jolt, heart slamming, but you never stopped. He did it three more times. Slipping into shadows, then materializing at your side or just behind your shoulder, close enough that you could feel the brush of his jacket against your back. Each time his presence felt heavier, more intentional. He wasnât just testing your endurance anymore. He was testing your reactions. How you handled the sudden proximity. How long you could hold his gaze when he cornered you against a rusted chain-link fence, one arm braced beside your head, his body leaning in until the space between you shrank to nothing but shared air and the faint scent of his skin.
âYou donât scare easy,â he murmured during one of those moments, green eyes locked on yours from inches away. His voice had dropped lower, rougher, the words vibrating through the narrow gap. âMost people wouldâve run by now. Started crying. Begged me to leave them alone.â His free hand came up, not touching you, but hovering near your shoulder, fingers flexing like he was debating whether to push further. The scar at his mouth was so close you could see the faint white line where it cut through stubble. âWhatâs your angle, huh? You looking for a thrill? Trying to prove something? Or are you just that fucking stubborn?â
Your back pressed against the cold metal of the fence. His body heat wrapped around you like a cage. Solid chest rising and falling steadily, the hard line of his hips only a breath away from brushing yours. It wasnât sexual. Not yet. It was pressure. Pure, unrelenting pressure designed to make you crack. But you met his eyes, jaw tight, and said nothing. Just held the stare until something flickered in his gaze, reluctant respect mixed with that same growing curiosity.
He pushed off the fence with a low exhale, almost a growl, and walked away again. But the distance didnât last. By late afternoon he was doing it on purpose: cornering you in narrow passages between warehouses, appearing suddenly in doorways you were about to enter, standing so close in the dim light that you had to tilt your head back to look at him. Each time his hands would find casual contact. Fingers brushing your wrist when he âsteadiedâ you after a loose gravel patch, palm pressing lightly against your lower back to guide you around a puddle of oily water. Never lingering long enough to be overt. Always enough to remind you how easily he could overwhelm you if he wanted.
The sun was dipping low when he finally led you into the narrowest alley yet. A forgotten corridor between two crumbling brick buildings, barely wide enough for two people to pass. Trash bags lined one wall, and the ground was slick with something you didnât want to identify. Toji stopped abruptly in the middle, turning so fast you nearly collided with his chest. He didnât step back. Instead, he crowded you backward until your shoulders hit the rough brick, his body boxing you in completely. One forearm braced against the wall beside your head, the other hand resting lightly on the bricks near your hip, effectively trapping you without touching.
The alley smelled of damp stone and faint rot, but all you could focus on was him. The broad expanse of his chest filling your vision, the way his shirt stretched across his shoulders, the slow, controlled rhythm of his breathing. His face was inches from yours, green eyes dark in the fading light, the scar at his mouth pulled into a line that was no longer purely irritated.
âWhat do you want?â he asked, voice low and slow, each word deliberate. It wasnât a demand this time. It was heavier. More focused. Like he was genuinely trying to peel back your layers. âThree days. Youâve followed me through crowds, alleys, warehouses. Iâve tested every limit I can think of short of putting a knife to your throat, and youâre still here. So tell me. What the fuck do you actually want from me?â
Your heart hammered against your ribs, so loud you were sure he could hear it. His presence was overwhelming. Heat, muscle, the faint salt-and-smoke scent of his skin. His knee had shifted forward just enough to brush the outside of your thigh, keeping you pinned in place. Not painful. Just inescapable. The tension in the air crackled like static before lightning, thick and unspoken. You could feel the restrained power in every inch of him, the way he held himself back from pressing fully against you, the way his eyes searched your face for any sign of fear or deception.
You opened your mouth, but the words caught. Not because you were scared, but because you didnât have a clean answer anymore. Curiosity had become something messier. Stubbornness had become obsession. And standing this close to Toji Fushiguro, trapped in his shadow, made it impossible to pretend it was still just about gathering information.
He waited. The silence stretched, heavy and intimate in the narrow space. His breath ghosted warm across your cheek when he leaned in a fraction more, voice dropping to a near-whisper that sent a shiver down your spine.
âYou donât listen. You donât run. You just⌠keep coming back.â His eyes flicked down to your mouth for the briefest second before returning to yours. âCareful, shadow. Keep pushing like this and I might stop telling you to leave.â
He didnât move away immediately. Let the words hang there, let the proximity sink in. The solid wall of his body, the way his forearm flexed beside your head, the undeniable awareness that he could close the last inch of distance whenever he chose. Then, with a low exhale that sounded almost frustrated, he pushed off the wall and stepped back, giving you air again.
But the tension didnât dissipate. It followed you both as he turned and continued down the alley, expecting you to follow.
And you did.
The game had changed again. He wasnât just testing your limits anymore.
He was starting to test his own.
Night had fully claimed Tokyo by the time the fourth day bled into the fifth. The city lights glittered like scattered shards of glass against the dark sky, but where Toji led you now, those lights felt distant and irrelevant. The industrial zone near the Sumida River had given way to something far more derelict. An abandoned shipyard on the outskirts, where rusted hulks of old cargo vessels loomed like skeletal beasts half-sunk in the black water. The air was thick with the stench of saltwater, decaying metal, and something sharper underneath: gunpowder residue and old blood. Wind howled through broken windows and twisted scaffolding, carrying distant echoes of waves slapping against concrete pilings.
You shouldnât have been here.
You knew it the moment Tojiâs pace changed. Earlier that evening he had been almost⌠tolerant. After the narrow alley confrontation, he hadnât told you to leave again. Instead, he had moved through the city with you trailing at his side more often than behind, his broad frame cutting a path through the growing darkness. There had been more brushes of contact. His hand grazing your lower back to steer you away from a suspicious group of men loitering under a bridge, his shoulder bumping yours when he stopped abruptly to light a cigarette. Each touch lingered a fraction longer than necessary, sending unwelcome sparks across your skin. The irritation in his eyes had dulled into something heavier, more watchful. He observed you constantly now: the way you breathed through exhaustion, the stubborn set of your jaw, the way you never asked for a break even when your legs trembled.
But tonight he was different. Tense. Focused in a way that made the scar at the corner of his mouth pull tight. The duffel bag over his shoulder looked heavier again, clinking faintly with every step. He had led you deeper into the shipyard without explanation, vaulting over chained gates and navigating the maze of shipping containers and abandoned cranes like he owned the shadows. You followed because stopping now felt impossible, like admitting defeat after four days of proving you wouldnât break.
The first sign of real danger came as a low whistle cutting through the wind.
Toji froze mid-stride between two towering stacks of rusted containers. His hand shot out without looking, fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist and yanking you behind the nearest metal wall. The contact was sudden, his grip iron-hard but controlled, pulling you flush against his side. Your shoulder pressed into the solid wall of his chest, and for a heartbeat you felt the steady thud of his heart against your arm. Calm, deliberate, like a machine built for violence.
âStay quiet,â he muttered, voice barely above a breath, lips close to your ear. His breath was warm against your skin, carrying the faint trace of the cigarette heâd smoked earlier. âThis isnât part of the game anymore.â
You nodded once, throat tight. Your pulse hammered wildly where his fingers still circled your wrist, thumb pressing lightly against the frantic flutter of your vein. He didnât let go. Instead, he shifted his body to shield you more completely, his broad back blocking the narrow gap between containers. The heat radiating from him cut through the chill night air, his black jacket brushing your front as he leaned forward slightly to peer around the edge.
Voices drifted from the far end of the yard. Rough, low, speaking in clipped Japanese laced with curses. Three men, maybe four. You caught fragments: â... the hitâs confirmed⌠Fushiguroâs supposed to be here tonight⌠pay double if we bring proofâŚâ The metallic click of guns being chambered followed. Your stomach dropped. This wasnât a random encounter. This was a setup. Someone had known Toji would come here. Someone who wanted him dead.
Tojiâs jaw tightened, the scar pulling white against his stubble. His green eyes narrowed, calculating. He released your wrist but only to slide his hand to your waist instead, fingers splaying possessively over your hip to keep you pinned against him and out of sight. The touch was firm, almost grounding, his palm large enough to span a good portion of your side. âIdiots,â he growled under his breath. âThey sent amateurs. Â
You opened your mouth to whisper something. Maybe a warning, maybe a question, but he silenced you with a sharp look and a slight squeeze at your waist. Then he moved.
Everything happened too fast for you to process properly.
Toji shoved you back against the container with enough force to keep you hidden but not enough to hurt, then stepped out into the open like he was taking a casual stroll. The men spotted him immediately. Shouts erupted. Gunfire cracked through the night. The sharp, deafening pops that echoed off the metal walls. You pressed yourself flat against the cold steel, heart slamming so hard it felt like it might crack your ribs. Peeking around the edge, you saw him: Toji moved like liquid shadow despite his size. He dodged the first barrage with terrifying ease, muscles coiling and releasing under his jacket as he closed the distance in three powerful strides.
The first man went down with a sickening crunch. Tojiâs fist connecting with his jaw, the force snapping his head back before a knife appeared in Tojiâs hand like it had always been there. A flash of steel. A wet gurgle. The second attacker tried to swing a bat, but Toji caught the weapon mid-arc, ripped it from his hands, and drove the end into the manâs gut with brutal efficiency. The third fired again, bullet whining past Tojiâs ear, but Toji was already on him. Grabbing the gun hand and twisting until bone snapped. A final, precise strike to the throat, and the man crumpled.
It should have been over.
But you had made a mistake.
In your desperation to see what was happening to understand the violence unfolding in front of you. You had stepped out from behind the container. Just one step. Just far enough for the fourth man, hidden on a catwalk above, to spot you. He had been waiting for an opening, rifle trained on the chaos below. When you moved, his aim shifted.
The shot rang out.
Time slowed.
You felt the impact before the pain. A searing line of fire across your left side, just below your ribs. The force spun you half-around, slamming you back against the container. Your vision blurred with white-hot agony. A gasp tore from your throat as your legs buckled. Blood immediately soaked through your shirt, spreading in a dark bloom against the fabric. The world tilted violently.
âTojiââ The name slipped out, small and broken, before you could stop it.
He was there before you hit the ground.
One moment the night was chaos and gunfire; the next, his arms were around you, strong and unyielding. He caught you against his chest, one massive hand pressing hard over the wound to staunch the bleeding while the other arm banded around your back, holding you upright. The fourth man never got a second shot. Toji moved with lethal speed. His body twisting to shield yours completely as he hurled a knife from some hidden sheath with deadly accuracy. You heard the wet thunk of impact, a strangled cry, and then the heavy thud of a body falling from the catwalk.
Silence fell, broken only by the distant lap of water and your own ragged breathing.
Toji didnât let go.
His grip lingered, almost bruising in its intensity. He lowered you both to the ground with surprising care, his back against the container for support while he kept you cradled against him. One knee braced on the concrete, the other leg stretched out so you half-lay across his lap. His large hand stayed pressed firmly over your side, applying steady pressure. Blood seeped between his fingers, warm and slick, but he didnât flinch. His free arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you closer into the solid heat of his body as if he could shield you from the entire world.
âFuck,â he muttered, voice rough and low, laced with something raw you hadnât heard from him before. His breath came faster now, chest rising and falling heavily against your cheek. âYou stupid, stubborn little shit. I told you not to follow me into places like this.â
You tried to speak, but pain lanced through you, turning it into a weak hiss. Your hand came up instinctively, fingers curling into the front of his jacket, gripping the fabric like a lifeline. Up close like this. Pressed against the hard planes of his chest, surrounded by the scent of gunpowder, sweat, and the faint metallic tang of blood, you could feel every inch of him. The rapid thud of his heart. The tension in his massive shoulders. The way his muscles flexed and held rigid, like he was fighting the urge to do something more violent to the already dead men around you.
His green eyes bored into yours, the scar at his mouth pulled into a tight line. There was no irritation now. No bored dismissal. Just raw, protective instinct blazing in his gaze. His hand on your wound tightened slightly, not enough to hurt more, but enough to remind you he had you. âYou donât get to follow me into places like that,â he growled, the words coming out slower, heavier. âYou hear me? This isnât your fucking game anymore. You almost got yourself killed because you wouldnât listen.â
His thumb brushed unconsciously over your hip where his other hand still gripped you, a small, grounding motion that contrasted the roughness in his voice. He didnât pull away. Didnât loosen his hold. If anything, he adjusted you closer, tucking your head more securely under his chin, his stubble scraping lightly against your forehead. The protectiveness radiated off him in waves. Completely instinctive and possessive, like some primal part of him had snapped into place the moment you were in danger.
âYouâre bleeding all over me,â he said after a long moment, tone gruff but quieter now. Almost⌠concerned? He shifted his jacket, using the inner lining to help press against the wound. âItâs a graze. Deep, but youâll live. Lucky it wasnât higher.â His voice dropped even lower, vibrating through his chest into yours. âBut if you pull this shit again. If you step out like that when I tell you to stay hidden, Iâll tie you up myself and leave you somewhere safe until you learn.â
The threat should have scared you. Instead, it sent a strange warmth through the pain. His body was a solid anchor in the cold night, all hard muscle and restrained power wrapped around you like a shield. The lingering grip, the way he hadnât let go even after the immediate threat was gone, the raw edge in his words. It all spoke louder than any irritation heâd shown before.
Toji stayed like that for several long minutes, holding you against him while the adrenaline slowly ebbed. His breathing evened out, but his hand never left your side. When he finally spoke again, it was barely a murmur against your hair.
âNext time⌠you stay behind me. No arguments.â
He didnât phrase it as a command to stop following.
He phrased it as an order to stay closer.
The shift had happened.
You werenât just a stubborn shadow anymore.
And Toji Fushiguro had just proven he wasnât willing to let you get hurt.
The shipyard faded into memory like a bad dream you couldnât quite shake.
Toji had patched you up that night with surprising efficiency. No hospital, no questions asked. Heâd half-carried you out of the yard, one thick arm banded around your waist to keep pressure on the graze while the other supported most of your weight. Your side burned with every step, blood soaking through the makeshift bandage heâd torn from the inner lining of his own jacket. He didnât speak much on the way back, just low grunts directing you toward a dingy motel on the edge of the industrial district. The room was cheap and anonymous. Faded wallpaper, a single creaking bed, the faint smell of stale smoke and disinfectant. He sat you on the edge of the mattress, disappeared for ten minutes, and returned with antiseptic, gauze, and a bottle of cheap whiskey.
âDrink,â he ordered, pressing the bottle into your hands while he knelt in front of you. His broad frame took up most of the space between the bed and the wall, knees bracketing your legs as he worked. Those large, calloused hands were surprisingly steady as he cleaned the wound, green eyes focused entirely on the task. Every time you hissed in pain, his thumb would brush lightly over the uninjured skin just above the graze like an unconscious apology. When it was done, he wrapped it tight, then stood, towering over you again.
âSleep. Iâll be here.â
He didnât leave. Instead, he dropped into the single chair by the window, duffel bag at his feet, and watched the door. You drifted off to the sound of his slow, even breathing and the occasional click of his lighter.
That had been three days ago.
Everything was different now.
You no longer had to hunt for Toji through crowded streets or shadowed alleys. He found you first.
It started small.
The morning after the shipyard, you woke to an empty room and a note scrawled on the back of a konbini receipt: Donât move much. Eat. Beside it sat a plastic bag with onigiri, painkillers, and a fresh shirt that was comically oversized that was clearly one of his. When you stepped outside later that afternoon, testing the limits of your bandaged side, he was already there. Leaning against a utility pole across the street, arms crossed over his broad chest, black jacket slung over one shoulder. The scar at the corner of his mouth twitched when your eyes met his, but he didnât say anything about the previous night. Just jerked his chin toward the sidewalk and started walking.
You fell into step beside him instead of behind.
He didnât comment on the change.
The new rhythm settled in quietly over the following days, like a current youâd both stopped fighting.
He started noticing where you were before you could even think about following.
On the fourth morning, you were in a small cafĂŠ near your apartment in Ikebukuro, nursing a black coffee and trying not to aggravate the healing graze on your side. The bell above the door chimed, and there he was. Filling the doorway with his height and shoulders, green eyes scanning the room until they locked on you. He didnât look surprised. Just walked over, pulled out the chair across from you with a scrape of wood on tile, and sat. His knee bumped yours under the tiny table immediately, and he didnât bother moving it away. The contact was casual now, almost habitual. Warmth seeped through the denim of his jeans into yours.
âStill breathing?â he asked, voice low and rough as he flagged down the waitress for his own coffeeâblack, no sugar.
You nodded, fingers tightening around your mug. âThanks to you.â
He grunted, the sound almost dismissive, but his eyes lingered on the way you held yourself, protecting the injured side. Something flickered there. Not quite softness, but a watchful protectiveness that hadnât existed before the shipyard. When the coffee arrived, he pushed the sugar packets toward you without asking if you wanted any, then leaned back in his chair, one arm draped over the backrest. The position made his shirt pull tight across his chest, outlining the heavy muscle underneath. He watched you drink in silence, the quiet between you heavier than it used to be. No more sharp warnings. No more testing routes to lose you. Just this weighted stillness, charged with everything unsaid.
By the fifth day, the pattern had solidified.
He would appear at odd hours. Sometimes waiting outside your building when you stepped out for groceries, sometimes materializing beside you on the subway platform like heâd timed it perfectly. Once, you woke to the sound of your apartment door clicking shut and found him in your kitchen, rummaging through your near-empty fridge like he owned the place. A fresh pack of bandages sat on the counter.
âYouâre low on food,â he muttered without turning around. His back was to you, the white compression shirt stretching across the wide spread of his shoulders and tapering down to his narrow waist. The muscles along his spine shifted as he closed the fridge. âEat better. That graze wonât heal if youâre running on empty.â
You stood in the doorway in an old t-shirt and shorts, suddenly hyper-aware of how small the kitchen felt with him in it. âYou broke in?â
Toji finally turned, green eyes dragging slowly over you. From your bare legs to the faint outline of the bandage visible under your shirt. The scar at his mouth pulled into a faint, crooked smirk. âDoor was shit. Easy fix.â He stepped closer, closing the distance until the counter was the only thing separating you. Up close, you could smell the faint mix of cigarette smoke and the clean, masculine scent that always clung to his skin. He reached out, large hand brushing the edge of your shirt near the bandage. âLet me check it.â
It wasnât a request. His fingers were warm as he lifted the hem just enough to inspect the wound, thumb grazing the skin beside the gauze. The touch sent a shiver racing up your spine that had nothing to do with pain. He was close enough that you could see the faint stubble along his jaw, the way his lashes cast shadows over his eyes when he looked down. His breath brushed your collarbone. The proximity wasnât aggressive like before, it was deliberate. Possessive in a quiet way. Like he was claiming the right to make sure you were still whole.
âItâs healing clean,â he said after a moment, voice lower than usual. He didnât step back right away. His hand lingered, palm flattening briefly against your side just above the injury, feeling the steady rise and fall of your breathing. âGood. Means you might actually listen for once.â
The silence that followed was thick. You could hear the distant traffic outside, the hum of the old refrigerator, but mostly you heard the way his breathing had slowed, matching yours. Less distance between you now. Always. Whether walking side by side through evening markets or sitting on the edge of a rooftop heâd dragged you to âfor the view,â he kept you within armâs reach. Sometimes heâd wait for you by leaning against a wall with that lazy, dangerous grace, eyes already tracking your approach before you even turned the corner. Other times he found you first, appearing suddenly but without the old intent to startle. Just⌠there. Solid. Present.
The interactions grew more direct, too.
One night, after a long walk along the river where heâd pointed out a few âsafeâ routes you could take if you ever needed to disappear, you ended up back at the same cheap motel. He hadnât asked if you wanted to go. Heâd simply led, and youâd followed. The room felt smaller with both of you in it. Toji shrugged off his jacket, revealing the tight black shirt underneath that clung to every ridge of muscle. He dropped onto the bed, back against the headboard, legs spread in that casual, commanding way of his. Then he patted the space beside him.
âSit.â
You did, careful of your side. The mattress dipped under his weight, pulling you slightly toward him. He didnât move away. Instead, his arm stretched along the headboard behind your shoulders, not quite touching but close enough that you felt the heat. The silence stretched, heavier than ever. No more games of cat and mouse. No more sharp commands to stop following. The air between you crackled with unspoken tension. The memory of his body shielding yours in the shipyard, the lingering grip of his hands, the way heâd held you like something worth protecting.
You glanced at him. Toji was staring at the ceiling, jaw tight, the scar at his mouth faint in the dim lamp light. His free hand rested on his thigh, fingers drumming once, twice, before stilling. Then, without looking at you, he spoke.
âYouâre not just following anymore.â The words came out rough, almost reluctant. âI know where you are now. Before you even show up. Sometimes I wait. Sometimes I come find you.â He exhaled through his nose, a low sound that vibrated in his chest. âDidnât plan on that. Didnât want it.â
He finally turned his head, green eyes meeting yours. There was no irritation left. Just raw honesty edged with something darker. Something that made the space between you feel electric. âBut you wouldnât quit. And now⌠I donât want you to.â
The admission hung there, heavy and intimate. His arm behind you shifted slightly, fingers brushing the back of your shoulder in the barest contact. Not pulling you closer. Not yet. But the invitation was there in the way his body angled toward yours, the way the silence pressed in, thick with all the tension that had been building since that first rainy night.
You werenât his shadow anymore.
You were something he kept close on purpose.
And the realization settled over both of you like a slow-burning fuse, waiting for the moment it would finally ignite.
The tension had been coiling tighter for days, like a wire stretched to its breaking point.
It finally snapped on the sixth night.
You had followed him again. Not out of habit this time, but because the pull between you had become impossible to ignore. The air in Tokyo felt heavier, thicker, charged with the weight of everything unsaid. Toji had spent the evening moving through the quieter districts near Yoyogi Park, his pace unhurried for once, broad shoulders cutting through the sparse crowds under the orange glow of streetlamps. You walked beside him now, no longer trailing behind. His arm occasionally brushed yours, the contact sending sparks across your skin that lingered long after he pulled away. He didnât speak much. Just the occasional low grunt or a sidelong glance from those sharp green eyes, the scar at the corner of his mouth twitching whenever your steps faltered near a curb or when the healing graze on your side pulled uncomfortably.
But tonight something felt different. The silence between you wasnât just heavy, it was electric. You could feel it in the way his gaze lingered longer, in the way his hand would hover near your lower back when crossing a street, not quite touching but close enough that you felt the heat. The protectiveness from the shipyard had deepened into something more possessive, more instinctive. He kept you close on purpose now, and every shared glance, every brush of skin, built the pressure higher.
He led you away from the main paths, deeper into the parkâs less-traveled edges where the trees grew thick and the city lights faded into a distant haze. The air smelled of damp earth, pine, and the faint sweetness of night-blooming flowers. Gravel crunched under your shoes, and the distant hum of traffic felt miles away. Tojiâs steps slowed as you approached a secluded section. A narrow, overgrown path flanked by dense foliage and an old, forgotten storage shed half-hidden behind a cluster of trees. The shed was weathered, its wooden door slightly ajar, the interior dark and musty with the scent of old lumber and dust.
Without warning, Tojiâs hand shot out.
His fingers wrapped around your wrist and he pulled you off the path in one smooth motion. You stumbled slightly, but he didnât let you fall. Instead, he guided you backward into the shed, kicking the door shut behind him with the heel of his boot. The latch clicked into place, sealing you both inside the small, dim space. Moonlight filtered through a single cracked window high on the wall, casting faint silver stripes across the floor and illuminating the hard lines of his face.
The shed was cramped. Barely enough room for two people, especially one built like Toji. Stacks of old crates lined one wall, tools hung on the opposite, and the air felt close, intimate, trapped. He didnât release your wrist. Instead, he used the grip to turn you, backing you up until your shoulders hit the rough wooden wall. His body followed immediately, crowding you completely. There was no escape now. No distance, no pretending this was still just following or tolerance.
Toji loomed over you, all six-foot-something of solid, battle-hardened muscle. His broad chest filled your vision, the black shirt stretched tight across his pecs and the ridged lines of his abs. One forearm braced against the wall beside your head, the other hand still gripping your wrist, pinning it gently but inescapably above your shoulder. His hips shifted forward, pressing you firmly against the wood, the hard line of his thigh sliding between yours to keep you anchored in place. The heat of him was overwhelming. It was radiating through his clothes, wrapping around you like a brand. You could smell the familiar mix of cigarette smoke, clean sweat, and that underlying masculine scent that was purely him. His breath ghosted warm across your forehead, then lower, brushing your temple.
âYou donât listen,â he said, voice low and slow, each word drawn out like gravel rumbling in his chest. It wasnât the sharp irritation from the first night. This was different. Darker, rougher, focused entirely on you. The scar at the corner of his mouth pulled as he spoke, his green eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made your pulse thunder. âAll this time⌠following me. Pushing. Refusing to quit. Even after I warned you. Even after you got shot because of it.â
His free hand came up, large and warm, sliding slowly from your hip up your side. His palm pressed flat against the bandage over your graze, feeling the steady rise and fall of your breathing beneath the fabric. The touch was deliberate, possessive. Not gentle, but not cruel. His fingers flexed, thumb stroking just beside the wound in a slow, grounding circle that sent heat pooling low in your belly. He leaned in closer, forehead nearly touching yours, his stubble grazing your cheek as his lips hovered near your ear.
âBut youâre still here,â he murmured, the words vibrating through you. âAnd I donât want you gone anymore.â
The admission hung in the thick air between you. His thigh pressed more firmly between yours, the powerful muscle flexing as he shifted his weight, effectively pinning you harder against the wall. The proximity was complete with no space left to retreat. You could feel every inch of his body: the solid wall of his chest rising and falling against yours, the hard ridges of his abdomen, the unmistakable heat and weight of him growing heavier against your hip. His grip on your wrist tightened just enough to remind you he had control, but his thumb brushed over your pulse point in a slow, almost soothing rhythm that contradicted the roughness in his voice.
Toji pulled back slightly so he could look at you fully, green eyes dark and hooded in the moonlight. The scar made his expression look even more dangerous, more raw. âIâve been watching you. Waiting for you. Finding you before you even start looking for me.â His hand on your side slid higher, slipping under the hem of your shirt to trace bare skin. Calloused fingertips dragged slowly up your ribs, avoiding the bandage but teasing the sensitive skin around it. âThis body⌠stubborn as hell. Taking a bullet because you wouldnât stay hidden. Healing slow because you keep pushing yourself.â
He leaned in again, nose brushing along your jawline, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. His voice dropped even lower, slower, a deep rumble that sent shivers racing down your spine. âI couldâve left you behind a hundred times. But I didnât. Because somewhere along the way, I started liking having my shadow stuck to me.â
The hand under your shirt continued its slow exploration, palm flattening against your stomach, fingers splaying wide to claim as much skin as possible. He pressed his hips forward deliberately, letting you feel the full, hardening length of him against your thigh. The thick, insistent press of his arousal through his pants. It wasnât rushed. It was claiming. Rough-edged and instinctive, built from days of proximity and tension. His thigh rocked subtly between yours, applying just enough pressure to make your breath hitch, the friction deliberate and unhurried.
âYou feel that?â he growled softly, mouth now hovering over the pulse in your neck. His lips brushed the skin there, not quite kissing, but close enough that his breath scorched you. âThatâs what you do to me now. All that following⌠all that refusing to run. You woke something up, and Iâm not putting it back to sleep.â
Tojiâs grip on your wrist finally released, but only so both of his hands could slide down your body. Large palms gripping your waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh with possessive strength. He lifted you slightly, just enough to pull you more firmly against him, your feet barely touching the ground as he held you pinned between his body and the wall. The position made you acutely aware of every powerful inch of him: the way his chest crushed against your breasts, the flex of his abs, the thick bulge grinding slowly against you with controlled rolls of his hips. His mouth finally made full contact. Hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, teeth grazing lightly, tongue soothing the sting. Not soft. Rough. Hungry. Like he was marking territory heâd decided was his.
âTell me to stop,â he rasped against your skin, voice thick and low, one hand sliding down to grip your ass, squeezing hard enough to pull a gasp from you. He rocked his hips again, slower this time, letting the heavy ridge of his cock drag along your core through your clothes, building friction that made heat flood through you in waves. âTell me you donât want this. That youâre done following. That youâre walking away.â
But his actions contradicted the words. His other hand slipped higher under your shirt, cupping your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple in slow, teasing circles that matched the rhythm of his hips. His mouth moved to your collarbone, sucking a mark into the skin, then higher to your jaw, nipping lightly. The shed felt even smaller now, the air thick with the sounds of your mingled breathing. His deep and ragged, yours sharper, catching on every deliberate grind.
He pulled back just enough to look at you again, forehead resting against yours, green eyes burning with raw need. Sweat glistened at his temple, his hair slightly disheveled from the way your free hand had unconsciously tangled in it. His chest heaved against yours, muscles taut under your palm where you pressed against him.
âBut you wonât say it,â he murmured, voice a low, slow drawl. âBecause youâre not leaving. And neither am I.â
Toji captured your mouth then, not gently. The kiss was rough, claiming, all teeth and tongue and pent-up hunger. His lips moved against yours with dominant pressure, tongue sweeping in to taste you deeply as his hips continued their slow, relentless grind. One hand stayed on your ass, holding you tight against him, the other tangling in your hair to tilt your head exactly how he wanted. He kissed like he fought. Always efficient, overwhelming, and leaving no room for retreat. The hard length of him throbbed against you with every roll, the friction building higher, the heat between you scorching.
When he finally broke the kiss for air, his lips hovered just above yours, breath mingling hot and heavy. His hand on your waist slid lower, fingers teasing the waistband of your pants, dipping just inside to brush bare skin.
âThis is what you wanted, isnât it?â he growled, voice rough and edged with that instinctive possessiveness. âAll those days⌠pushing my limits. Now Iâm pushing back. And Iâm not stopping unless you make me.â
He didnât wait for words. Instead, he rocked against you again. Slower, deeper, letting you feel exactly how hard he was, how much he wanted this. His mouth found your neck once more, sucking another mark while his fingers explored lower, teasing, promising more. The tension that had started with irritation and stubbornness had finally ignited into something raw, physical, and utterly consuming.
In the dim moonlight of that forgotten shed, Toji Fushiguro wasnât telling you to stop following anymore.
He was claiming the shadow that had refused to leave his side.
And the night was far from over.
The air inside the shed felt thicker now, heavy with the scent of sweat, wood dust, and the raw, unmistakable musk of arousal that clung to both of you. Moonlight still sliced through the cracked window in thin silver beams, catching on the sheen of sweat along Tojiâs collarbone and the faint tremble in your hands where they pressed against his chest. His heartbeat thundered under your palms. Strong, steady, but faster than before, betraying the control he was barely holding onto.
Tojiâs forehead rested against yours, his breathing ragged and hot against your lips. The hard, thick length of him still pressed insistently between your thighs, throbbing with every slow rock of his hips that dragged delicious friction through your clothes. His large hands gripped your waist and ass with possessive strength, fingers digging into soft flesh like he needed to anchor himself. The scar at the corner of his mouth was pulled tight, his green eyes dark and half-lidded as they bored into yours.
Neither of you had said the words yet. But the silence spoke volumes.
He shifted his weight, one powerful thigh still wedged firmly between yours, keeping you pinned to the rough wooden wall. Slowly, deliberately, he dragged his hips back just enough to create a sliver of space, then rolled forward again. Deeper this time, grinding the heavy ridge of his cock right against your core with a low, guttural groan that vibrated through his chest into yours.
âFuckâŚâ The word slipped out rough and broken, his voice even lower than before, slow like molten gravel. âYou feel how hard you make me? All that stubborn following⌠all those nights I couldâve snapped and left you behind. Instead, I kept letting you get closer.â
His hand on your ass squeezed harder, pulling you more firmly onto his thigh while the other slid up your back, under your shirt, palm splaying wide across your bare skin. Calloused fingertips traced the line of your spine, then dipped lower, teasing the waistband of your pants again. He didnât rush. Every movement was controlled, instinctive, like he was savoring the way your body responded to him. The way your breath hitched, the way your hips instinctively rolled to meet his slow, relentless grinding.
Toji leaned in, capturing your mouth once more in a deep, claiming kiss. His tongue swept in without hesitation, tasting you thoroughly, dominating the kiss with the same rough efficiency he used in everything else. Teeth nipped at your lower lip, then soothed with his tongue. When he pulled back, a thin string of saliva connected your lips for a second before breaking. His eyes flicked down to your swollen mouth, then back up, dark with hunger.
âYouâre not my shadow anymore,â he murmured against your lips, voice thick and slow. âHavenât been for days. Youâre with me now. Whether you like it or not.â
The words settled over you like a brand. His hand finally slipped fully inside your pants, large palm cupping you over your underwear, fingers pressing with just enough pressure to make your knees weaken. He rubbed slow, firm circles, feeling the heat and wetness that had built there from all the grinding and tension. A low, satisfied rumble escaped his chest when he felt how soaked you were.
âWet already,â he growled, lips brushing your ear. âAll that tension⌠all those days of me cornering you, holding you, protecting whatâs mine. Youâve been wanting this too, havenât you? Wanting me to stop telling you to leave and start keeping you close for real.â
He didnât wait for an answer. Instead, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your pants and underwear, tugging them down your hips in one smooth motion. The cool night air hit your exposed skin, but it was immediately replaced by the scorching heat of his body as he pressed closer again. Tojiâs own pants were shoved down just enough to free himself. His cock springing heavy and thick against your stomach, the head already slick with pre-cum. He was big. Intimidatingly so. Veined and flushed, curving slightly upward, the sheer size of him making your core clench in anticipation.
Toji gripped your thigh with one hand, lifting your leg to hook over his hip, opening you to him. The position left you completely at his mercy, back still pressed to the wall, his broad frame caging you in. He dragged the thick head of his cock through your folds. Slow, teasing, coating himself in your wetness before pressing forward just enough for the tip to nudge at your entrance.
âLast chance,â he rasped, voice rough but his eyes searching yours with surprising intensity. The scar twitched as his mouth curved into a dark, possessive half-smirk. âTell me to stop. Tell me youâre walking away. Because once Iâm inside you⌠thereâs no more following. Youâre staying. With me. Where I can keep you safe. Where I can have you whenever I want.â
His free hand came up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing over your bottom lip, smearing the wetness from the kiss. He rocked his hips again, the blunt head of his cock pressing harder against you, stretching you just slightly but not pushing in fully yet. The restraint in his body was palpable. Muscles taut, jaw clenched, every inch of him vibrating with the need to claim you completely.
But he waited.
Because despite the roughness, despite the instinctive possessiveness, this was still Toji. The man who had tested you, pushed you, protected you. He wouldnât take what you didnât want to give.
You didnât tell him to stop.
Instead, your hands slid up his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. Your hips tilted forward in silent invitation.
Tojiâs eyes darkened further. A low, feral sound rumbled from deep in his chest.
âGood choice.â
He pushed in slowly, inch by thick inch, stretching you open with a burn that bordered on overwhelming. His cock filled you completely, the heavy weight of him pressing deep until his hips were flush against yours. The groan that tore from his throat was raw, almost pained with how good it felt. He stayed buried to the hilt for a long moment, forehead pressed to yours again, breathing hard as he let you adjust to his size.
âFuck⌠so tight,â he muttered, voice strained and slow. âTaking me so well. Like you were made for this. Made for me.â
Then he started moving.
Not fast. Not frantic. Slow, deep rolls of his hips that dragged his cock almost all the way out before sliding back into the hilt. Each thrust was deliberate, powerful, grinding against that spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyes. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave marks, holding you exactly where he wanted you as he fucked you against the wall.
The shed filled with the sounds of skin meeting skin, your mingled moans, and his low, gravelly curses. Tojiâs mouth found your neck again, sucking dark marks into the skin while one hand slipped between you to rub firm circles over your clit in time with his thrusts. His thigh muscles flexed with every deep push, the power in his body evident in every controlled movement.
âYouâre mine now,â he growled against your throat, teeth grazing your pulse point. âNo more games. No more warnings to leave. You stay with me. You follow me because you want to⌠and because I wonât let you go.â
His pace gradually built. Still deep and thorough, but harder now, the wet slap of his hips against yours growing louder in the small space. Sweat slicked both your bodies, making every slide of skin against skin smoother, hotter. Tojiâs free hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head back so he could kiss you again. Messy, desperate, tongues sliding together as he drove into you over and over.
When your walls started fluttering around him, clenching tight, he groaned deeply, the sound vibrating through you.
âThatâs it⌠come for me. Let me feel you.â
The orgasm hit you hard. Waves of pleasure crashing through your body as you cried out against his mouth. Toji fucked you through it, hips never stopping their deep, punishing rhythm, drawing it out until you were trembling and oversensitive in his arms.
Only then did he let himself go.
With a final, guttural groan, he buried himself to the hilt and came hard. Thick, hot pulses filling you as his hips jerked against yours. His arms wrapped around you completely, holding you tight against his chest as he rode out the aftershocks, face buried in the crook of your neck.
For a long time, neither of you moved.
Toji stayed buried inside you, softening slowly, his arms a solid cage around your body. His breathing gradually evened out, but his grip never loosened. When he finally pulled back enough to look at you, his green eyes were softer than youâd ever seen them. Still sharp, still dangerous, but laced with something deeper. Satisfaction. Possession. Quiet acceptance.
He brushed a strand of hair from your sweaty forehead, thumb lingering on your cheek.
âNo more âdonât follow me,ââ he said, voice rough but quiet now. The scar at his mouth curved into the faintest, most genuine smirk youâd seen from him yet. âYouâre with me. Wherever I go. Whatever shit I drag you into. You stay close. I protect whatâs mine.â
He kissed you again. Slower this time, almost tender in its roughness before carefully lowering your leg and helping you steady yourself. He fixed your clothes with surprising care, then his own, though he kept one arm looped around your waist like he couldnât quite let go yet.
The shed door creaked open as he pushed it with his shoulder, the cool night air washing over you both. Toji glanced down at you, green eyes glinting in the moonlight.
âCome on. Letâs get out of here. Got a better place in mind for round two.â
He didnât ask if you were coming.
He already knew you would.
Because you werenât following anymore.
You were with him.
And Toji Fushiguro had finally stopped fighting it.
your fingers shakily gripped onto the counter the moment steven pinned you between him and it.Â
âlove, did you really think we would let you out in this skirt?â steven rhetorically asks thrusting into you agonizingly slow, the squelching filled the bathroom as your pussy greedily accepted her fate. your mini skirt that you planned on wearing for girls night is bunched your waist. his deft fingers reach around to flick your swollen clit. a weak shake of your head was all you could muster. yet, that wasnât good enough for steven.Â
âtsk tsk loveâ he grips your chin tilting your face up forcing you to make eye contact with the bathroom mirror. âand how wet you got just because i manhandled you a bitâ his thrust picked up the pace as he glanced into the mirror giving a little nod that you didnât catch before dropping a kiss to your nape and shoulder.Â
the rhythm changed and you were no longer being filled, a resounding skin to skin smack fills the bathroom.Â
âbaby i canât believe you tried this little stuntâ another smack, accompanied by your pathetic moan. âi shouldnât even fuck youâ marc unabashedly groans grinding himself against your dripping arousal. âbut,â he pauses thrusting himself back into you, âhow can i deny such a pretty pussy thatâs begging for me?â calloused grip tightening each time his tip kissed your cervix as your walls fluttered around him.Â
âdios mio cariĂąoâ his voice huskier than normal. thrusts picking up to a brutal pace. âlost your mind when you thought girls night was going to happen in that skirtâÂ
âjakeeeeâ the moan that slipped pass your lips was so pathetic he barely heard his name.Â
âcome on cariĂąo do betterâ he bites down on your shoulder before smirking at the mirror before glancing into the corner of the bathroom. his hand slipping down teasing your clit knowing youâre getting closer, by the way your knuckles are whitening as your grip slips from the counter and your moans are broken and needy.Â
âlook at you little starâ the deep voice sending a jolt through you. for the first time since youâve been with your boys, you can hear khonshu, your eyes glance to the corner seeing the skeletal bird god of the moon leaning against the wall. âi see why my avatar keeps you to himselfâ stretching out his hand, his fingers lightly trace your chin. âyou are quite exquisiteâ a whine ripples through you as your walls clamped down around jake.Â
âthatâs it pretty fall apart for us. make sure you smile for themâ jake groans as he spills into you. a satisfied fucked out smile graced your face as the boney hand of the moon god made sure you didnât tear your eyes away from the mirror.Â
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sukuna knows women. he knows how to please them. how to make them moan, whine, cry. but knowing how to please a woman doesnât mean he knows women. aka a womanâs cycle. in simple terms, sukuna has mainly grown up with men, his gramps, his brothers, toji â all he knows is a girl has a period, but he has never bothered to stay with a girl long enough to actually address her period.
well until his fuck buddy, you, open your door for him.
his arm wraps around your waist, tugging you towards his chest, lips locking with yours in moments. âMmm,â he groans, tongue pushing past your lips, just to feel you press a hand to his chest. your lips break, air filling his lungs in disdain, eyes narrowing at you for pushing him away.
âyou didnât text me, dude,â you say, letting him pull away to drop his backbag on the floor, plastic bag in hand as he kicks his shoes off.
âgot outta the gym late. lost track of time,â he walks two steps to the kitchen pulling out two energy drinks, a protein drink, and a couple protein bars. âfuck,â he cups his crotch, palming himself through his low hanging sweats. he opens his shake. âaccidentally swiped on that video yaâ sent me from the summer. I watched the whole thing between my sets.â his hand tips back, throat bopping as he chugs the shake, eyes closing as he sees the video play back in his mind, hand still on his bulge.
youâre leaning against the column between your smaller than small living room and kitchen, eyeing the way heâs shamelessly groping himself in front of you, men. you sigh, internally.
âhey,â he suddenly appears in front of you, towering. his musky scent fills your nose as he cups your neck, the other resting on your hip. he slowly lowers himself, tilting your chin up with a thumb as his lips connect with yours again. âhaah,â he sighs, kissing your lips like itâs his saving grace, his sweats hang low on his hips as he presses himself against you. âremember that video?â he husks, âthe one with yaâ spreading your legs out for the cameraââ
you gently press a hand to his chest again, cheeks flushed, but stomach churning uncomfortably. âryoââ
âwanna see this pussy,â he doesnât even hesitate, he drops his head to your neck, kissing the exposed skin before dropping to a knee, hands on your hips. âwanna smell how good she isââ
âryo,â you press a hand to his forehead, face aflame, as you push him back. your heart hammers as he frowns up at you, jaw tight and hands tightening around your waist. âI got my period yesterday.â
âŚ.
a silent beat passes.
then.
FUCK!
sukuna is horrible at controlling his face.
you immediately notice his dilated pupils dissipate, and the excitement die behind his eyes. your lips purse, making a my bad king type of face. but sukuna looks absolutely destroyed, his head drops forward, desperately trying to control his eye roll, but you catch it , along with the way he presses his face into your stomach, and groans. loud. uncontrolled.
âsorryâŚI forgot to text you, and you came all the way here,â you pat his shoulder apologetically, though youâre not super sympathetic since itâs not your fault.
âyaâ have cramps or some shit?â he grumbles against your sleep shirt.
âhad crazy cramps this morning, but just likeâŚnot in the mood right now,â you cringe while saying it, but sukuna just sighs.
you bite your cheek as you watch him sit back on his heels. his black sweats straining against his thighs, his bulge shameless as it presses up against the material. your eyes flick over him again, wetting your lip as you reach for his hair. hesitant. but eventuallyâŚyour manicured nails run through the slightly damp, salmon colored hair. you watch in silent awe as his lashes weigh down, and his jaw tightens like heâs holding himself back. your nails scratch his scalp, lightly, but enough to elect a raw groan from the back of his throat.
you bite your lip, eyeing the dark flush crawling up his neck, and dusting his cheeks a light pink. his large palm rests on your outer thigh and the other flexing as it grips his erection. how far will heâ
ânot cumming in my fucking sweats,â he suddenly barks, getting to his feet. your hand drops as he walks towards the bathroom, pulling his shirt over his head, he kicks the door shut behind him.
your lips purse again, biting your cheek as you hear the shower turn on. men.
that was how sukuna dealt with his fuck buddy being on her period. somehow always finding out last minute that youâre bleeding, and in no mood for action â except for those very rare occasions, well he canât divulge too much now since you never want him to mention it again â and heâs forced to take care of his problem in your shower. his rough calloused palm â a contrast from your soft smaller ones â jerks his painfully hard throbbing cock to the images of you floating in his mind until heâs finally shooting his thick white load all over your shower wall. haze clearing up as he watches the cum slide down. and then heâll step out of the bathroom, usually wearing a pair of sweats heâd forgotten here, along with a plain black tee, and crash on the couch as you do your homework. heâll eye you a bit, but eventually shift his attention to the tv and knockout.
it would be difficult for those five to seven days, especially when you would be slightly more clipped with him, or just plain bitchy and short tempered (like him). but itâd get him all hot and bothered, especially since he canât act on it.
that was sukunaâs perception of a womanâs cycle. before he never cared, now he cares just a little more because he canât have sex with you when youâre on your period.
but as smart as sukuna is, it takes a little more brain power for him to realize what this is.
this being, how heâs wound up because heâs trying to get through this studying for an upcoming exam. heâs far from prepared for and the best way for him to study is to be around someone who takes it seriouslyâ you. and yetâŚ
and yet, you wonât stop moving!
at first you were sitting across from him in the library. then you shift to the seat at corner of the table, and then you move to sit directly beside him.
âyou need help?â he suddenly cuts. youâre shifting beside him stops, brows pulled in confusion.
âwas just uncomfortable, am i disturbing you?â
his brow twitches, but you were completely innocent. your brow pulled up, like heâs the crazy one, and not you, whoâs moved around like ten times in the last hour!!
âjust a little,â he mutters, putting his headphones back on and turning back to his work. luckily, you seem to have settled down, attention back on your own studies. engrossed in your review sheets and notes, as sukuna reviews for his own exam.
however, what the fratboy did notice was even when shoko stopped bye to chat, and utahime came to whisper some gossip to you between her class, you didnât move once. his brow quirked briefly when utahime chatted across the table, and instead of getting up and going to the hallway to talk freely, you remain seated, right beside him, and right against him.
whatâs going on?
âI swear I told the girl I didnât even know who she was talking about itâbut she didnât even care. girl! I wasnât talking to your ex,â utahime rambles in hushed whispers, similar to the whispered conversations at other tables.
your brows furrow in shock, âwhat the hell?? why the heck is she even confronting you in the middle of class though? thatâs so weird.â
âthatâs what Iâm sayinggg!!!â
sukuna has every reason to snap at you both right now. to tell you two to shut the fuck up or go outside. seriously, it was distracting as fuck. but his mind was short circuiting and stumbling around all because of how fucking close you are to him.
his arms are leaning over the table, biceps bulging from his tshirt, scribbling practice equations and notes. and youâre leaning over in an identical position, but your side is fully pressed against his arm. your zip up hoodie resting around your hips after youâd shrugged it off, and your usual cold skin was searing hot against his. skin to skin. and itâs been like that for the past twenty minutes.
usually when your friends stop by to ramble you have the curiosity to step away so he can study. but not this timeâ well you did a similar thing a month ago too. sticking to him like glue. brushing your fingers over the veins of his forearmâ
âokay, Iâll update you later, but thanks for letting me borrow your airpods!â utahime concludes her rant with finally returning your airpods and running off to her next class. sukuna lets out an air of relief, relaxing beside you.
finally, some peace and quiet in the library.
âŚshiftâŚ
well, it could only last so long.
his brows furrow as he glances over at you, your cheek is now resting on his arm, mindlessly reading your notes like this is normal. is it because heâs finally anxious about an exam after so long, that heâs noticing how touchy youâre being? or maybe youâre not in the mood to do your work and in the mood for something elseâ
tch, he doesnât have time to find some room to fuck you in though. itâs the middle of the day and the library is packed. the last thing youâd want is for someone to see you both. however, he canât even tell if you want any action right now. it just looks like youâre tiredâŚand clingyâŚ?
sukuna exhales, thumb pressing against his jaw in thought, while you shift again, oblivious to his internal turmoil, cheek smushed against his armâŚ
âyou hungry?â he interrupts, desperate for his mind to quiet down.
ânot really,â you mutter, focused on your homework.
his lips downturn, pen tapping the desk, âIâm gonna grab another celsius.â he suddenly stands, startling you for a moment, noticing the way your pretty lashes blink in surprise. youâre definitely just focused on schoolâŚbut last month you were acting the same-ishâŚif heâs right, then when he comes backâŚyouâllâŚ
he places a celsius in front of you, eyes flicking over you as he sips his drink. you hum in distracted appreciation, like you canât even see him sliding back into his seat, legs spread, and arms coming up back to the table to grab his pen. but like glue, youâre sliding yourself right beside him, pressing your cheek to his shoulder, and taking a subtle inhale.
what the hell?!? itâs like he can predict youâre every move now?!
it didnât stop there. the puzzle pieces are starting to come together slowly. especially when you subtly kept a grip on his arm muttering how he can finish studying at your place, without the distraction of the fratâwhich you rarely pressure him to do a night before an exam. except instead of going straight to the bathroom to shower, you followed him to your couch and sat beside him.
âdo you mind if I turn on the tv?â you ask with such an unnerving amount of gentleness, glancing at him with your full undivided attention.
his brow quirks, whyâre you looking at him like that? âitâs your place, woman.â
you hum, relaxing back, albeit pressed to his side and your knees tucked up, as he leans over on the coffee table (aka your only desk in your small ass apartment) reviewing more work. but just moments later heâs sliding to the floor for more comfortabilityâ
âwhyâd you move?â your voice cuts through the quiet apartment.
âhuh?â
sukuna glances back, brow quirked with confusion at the frown youâre wearing. âleaning over is fucking with my back,â he tsks, earning him an uncharacteristically quick attitude switch from you â your eyes roll, your entire body slumps further back on the couch that youâre basically laying across it, and your cute bottom lip juts out in an irritated, subtle pout. seriously? sukuna scoffs internally. youâre acting like such a brat??? for real this time.
your cheeks press against the cushion. your hypnotizing eyes flick between his, then eventually settle on his lips. theyâre slightly chapped, pinkâŚprettyâŚkissableâŚ
âya need something?â he snaps without any bite. youâre zoning out again. your eyes drift off, and your lips part lost in thought. âzoning outââ are the words that you here before you feel an aggressive (light in his mind) flick to your forehead. âagain!â
âow!â you groan loud, face quickly turning and pressing into the cushion in annoyance. âwhat the hell!â your muffled yell barely comes out.
âwhat the hell me?â he tsks, rough hand landing on your head, and turning your face back for air. âI was talking and you did that shit againââ
âwhat thing?!â you scoff, brows pinched in anger as you stare into his eyesâŚ.his deepâŚdarkâŚliddedâŚcrimson eyesâŚ..haahâ
âthat,â he exhales, hand softening on your temple, and irritation slipping away with your usual antics. âhow do you even zone out that fast?â
your glossy lips part, manicured nail brushing your bottom lip, heat pooling between your legs, and eyes half lidded⌠âwas thinking about your eyes.â
the softness of your tone was more shocking than the actual words that came out of your mouth. or it was the combination of both. or the bluntness of your gentle honey sweet voice that took sukuna by surpriseâŚ
but he blinked. once. twiceâ
âfirst it was your lips,â you whisper with a breathless sigh. your finger carefully reaching out and touching his lips. you mimic the way he parts his lips with your own. his thick brows creating a shadow over his lidded eyes. âthen your eyes.â you explain with such clarity, it had sukuna short circuiting as he tries to rationalize why youâre acting this wayâ
âthatâs why i zoned out,â you conclude, shifting closer to the edge of the couch, closer to him. your eyes dot up at him, brushing his bottom lip, pulling it down with a thumb. âyou distract me sometimes.â youâre tiredâŚit was a long day of classes and it was the middle of the week. that has to be the reason, sukuna thinks.
by now, he knows that look.
you wanna fuck.
âMmm,â you whine the moment he presses his lips to yours. your tongue immediately finding his as your nails course through his hair. tugging. âmake me cum, ryo.â
he snorts in your mouth, rough hand pushing your shirt up, thumbing your bra before hooking his thumb under and lifting up. âshouldâve just told me ya want your pussy wetââ
âitâs already wet,â you cut, âbeen wet all day.â
shiit, he groans into your lips, pushing his hand down, past your waistband. âfucking slut.â a breathy gasp slips out as he cups your wet sticky pussy. âfucking drenched, dirty brat.â his teeth sink into your bottom lip as you whine louder, unaware how sukunaâs neck is unbelievably red. why do you taste sweeter?
âMmm lift your hips up,â he husks. you donât get the chance to react when heâs suddenly yanking your pants and drenched panties off. âspread âem.â
your tongue pokes your bottom lip, opening your legs for your fuck buddy. his huge palms press against your thighs, grabbing fistfuls and licking his bottom lip as your sticky pussy comes into view. his pupils dilate as he watches your hole twitch. and your scent immediately hits his nose. âyouâre gonna taste so good today.â he mutters to himself, but your brow lifts.
âwhatâs different about today?â
he leans forward, eyes flicking up as he exhales. is he drunk? his eyes roll back, cock throbbing in his pants and he inhales againâfuuck, you smell so much sweeter, ânothin.â his tongue shuts you right up as he licks a long wet lewd strip up your folds. your back immediately arches off the couch, nails digging into his scalp as his beefy arms lock around your thighs, moaning. your sweet honey floods his taste budsâŚthis pussy has always hypnotized him, aroma consuming him and taste intoxicating himâŚbut now that he thinks aboutâŚthis small little difference in taste and scent, a bit sweeter, happened last monthâ
âryoâhaah ah mmh ya like my pussy?â your eyes flutter as you keep them on sukunaâs flushed face.
his eyes roll back, completely falling apart between your thighs as he groans a deep husky, âfuck yeah.â
your stomach burns hot at his voice, and voice pitching higher as his tongue delves inside your hole. âhaaaahâyour mouth is so good, babyângh been wet all day,â you confess in your pleasure. âwas staring at your hands all day, ryoâtheyâre so bigâŚl-like your diâahhââ fuck youâre talking a lot, sukuna groans, annoyed how worked up your voice is getting him.
his tongue laps and sucks, his salvia creating an even bigger mess. he pulls away, cheeks dusted a deep red as he spits directly onto your puffy clit, pupils dilating as he spreads the mess all over your swollen clit. âthese hands,â he runs his calloused palm over your lower stomach. your pupils grow black with lust. pupils blown as you stare at the way his hand encompasses the entire surface. his crimson irises dilate once he sees the lust all over your face. âwant them inside ya?â
you nod, immediately.
he doesnât wait.
two long, thick fingers push past the initial tightness, feeling the gummy walls of your pussy hug his digits with delight. your jaw falls slack, drool slipping as he leans down to plant wet kisses along your lower stomach, forearms and biceps flexing as he pistons his fingers in n out. the squelching fills his ears as you moan above him.
ângh! fuh ryo, feels good, kissâkiss me down thereââ you push his head down until his lips connect with your clit again, sucking. rough. mean. teeth sinking just hard enough to make your eyes water and a choked cry slip your lips. âryo,â you mewl with such lewd sweetness that this huge 6â5 hunk is practically moaning in response. âryâmy pussyâahh gun âmmm c-closeâgun cumââ
but sukuna has already lost all sanity with how good your slick tastes. his eyes roll back pushing you over the edge. âmmm fuck!â you cry, lashes wet as they flutter from the pleasure coursing out of you. his throat bops swallowing and lapping your sweet slick like itâs a drug â which it might as well be with the way his cock is throbbing in his boxers just from eating his fuck buddyâs sweet pussy. âtaste like fucking honey,â he groans, cleaning you up like a dog. he pants, catching his breath as he climbs up to your lips like a starved animal. he smashes his lips against you, kissing your spit slicked lips with a loud groan. how do your lips taste sweet too?
âgonna be a good brat and let me fuck this tight pussy?â He grunts, unbuckling his belt and pushing his jeans down along with his boxers, freeing his painfully erect cock.
your tongues collide, dumb whine coming from the back of your throat, and hands running up and locking around his neck. âfâcourse.â
fucking you rough and fast on the couch as you babbled like a dumb slut, drunk on his cock, had him seeing stars. he was desperately trying to figure out how you're handling him with how uncharacteristically rough heâs being, but you havenât told him to stop.
"ryâaa-haah!"
shit. he'd flipped you onto your stomach, grabbing your hips , ass in the air as he slams his thick throbbing cock in from behind. his rough palm is pressed into your lower back keeping you in that deep arch he loves, and hand cracking the nth spank to your sore ass. "feel good?"
"so good ryoâwanna cum again -cum-ngh haah please please-"
unbelievable.
and itâs not until heâs panting on the couch, your limp body resting across it, completely and utterly spent, does he realize just how rough he was being. his jaw tenses, as the fog clears up.
âheyâŚâ his voice treads lightly, cautious as he turns on the couch, glancing at your resting form. your shirt covers your breasts after he finally came and let you lay back on the couch. but his spend leaks out of your abused hole, and your ass is still burning from his mean spanks. âheyâŚâ he leans over you, hand brushing your waist. grounding. âyou okay?â
he watches carefully as you turn on your side, eyes heavy as you blink up at him. âyeahâŚyou okay?â
âyou okay with how we fucked?â
you donât blink, âyeah.â
yeah, somethings up. he was rough, even he knows that much. and you took it well. more than well, you were begging for me.
all of those shouldâve been signs. the closeness, the slight sweetness spike in your slick and saliva. how unbelievably heavenly you smell, all the time. how you didnât mind how rough he was. but the cherry on top was the party friday.
the frat is lit up like a damn fever dream. neon strips line the railings, glow paint smeared across walls and skin, bass from the dj bleeding through the floors as the pool outside shimmers under colored lights. itâs packed, but not suffocating. invite-only for once. people actually have room to breathe, but it was mainly because they didnât want any complaints so early in the semester.
sukuna is sat back on the patio couch, shirtless, skin still damp from the heat, a thin sheen of sweat catching the lights every time he moves, tattoos flexing over his well defined muscles. gojo was loud beside him, geto half-listening while scrolling on his phone, a couple other guys scattered around with some girls mingling between them. but sukuna isnât paying attention to any of it.
he has a drink in his hand, untouched. his eyes keep drifting. back to you. somewhere near the edge of the pool, laughing at something utahime is saying, glowing under the neon like it was made for you. your bikini hugged your tits so well heâd pop a boner if he stares too hard. the droplets run down your soft skin, as he sees you fix your necklace as you say something to your friend.
he clicks his tongue, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. âyou ever notice they act different sometimes?â he mutters, low enough that it doesnât carry past the music.
nanami, sitting beside him in swim shorts, thick legs spread open for all to eye and an open button up putting his defined abs on full display, along with the sneaky patch of blonde hair peaking out of his waistband, doesnât even look up from his phone. âthatâs a very broad statement.â
sukuna exhales through his nose. ânah, likeââ he pauses, frowning slightly, like heâs trying to piece a puzzle together when he doesnât have all the pieces yet. âitâs not random.â
nanami studies him for a second, then follows his line of sight, and finds you immediately. is he starting to realize his feelings for you?â ânot random how?â
sukuna tilts his head, âjust⌠different. clingier. orââ he gestures vaguely with his drink. âmore into it.â
nanami raises a brow. âinto what.â
sukuna gives him a look like donât be fucking stupid.
nanami hums, finally catching on, taking a slow sip. âyouâre asking if thereâs a pattern to womenâs behavior.â
âiâm saying there is one,â sukuna mutters aggressively. âi just donât know what the hell it is.â
âyou know,â nanami says calmly, âthey have cycles.â
thereâs a beat. then sukuna leans back, jaw ticking slightly, still watching you. âyeah I fucking know that,â he mutters. âItâs annoying.â
nanami glances at him again, lost. âwhat is.â
sukuna doesnât answer right away. just takes another sip, eyes narrowing faintly. âthe way itâs not consistent.â
nanami huffs quietly, amused now . âif youâre starting to notice now then it is consistent.â
sukuna side-eyes him. nanami is no better than gojo or geto, heâs just more subtle about his innuendos. âIâm not noticing shitââ
nanami shrugs, setting his glass down. unaware that gojo and geto have agreed on teams.
âokay! water volleyball!â gojoâs voice cuts clean through the bass, already halfway to the pool as he grins like heâs been waiting for this all night. a cheer ripples through the patio. of course it does. a house full of athletes, half-naked, girls in bikinis, a competition handed to them on a silver platter? yeah, theyâre moving before the rules are even explained.
geto stretches his arms above his head as he stands, âhey! the love of god,â he mutters, loud enough for the frat president t to hear him, âtry not to break anyoneâs teeth this time.â
gojo laughs, already hopping to his side of the pool because obviously heâs one of the captains. âno promises.â
sukunaâs already up, taking the second captain title and just like that â whatever train of thought he was stuck on snaps clean in half. gone. replaced with something sharper, more familiar. his shoulders roll once, loose, eyes narrowing as he sizes up the space, the people already splitting into sides. his team or gojoâs team. theyâre always on opposite teams. it makes it more fun.
âdonât get in my way,â he tosses to gojo as he steps around to his end of the pool, his hand brushing his stomach as he crack his neck.
âyou wish,â gojo shoots back.
people start gathering, some hanging back to watch, others eager, slipping into the water, calling out sides, laughing as they pick teams. a younger pledge scrambles to the middle, already trying to take control after geto shoves him in to the play referee, whistle in hand like this is some official match.
and of course, even as chaos takes over the yard. your eyes find him. instinctive, like something in you locks in and refuses to look anywhere else.
sukuna stands at the edge, skin still glistening under the neon, muscles flexing lazily as he stretches his arm over his head. his back, his shoulders, the deep v- line that has your eyes following down to the tuft of light hair peaking out the same one you always find yourself caressing during foreplayâ itâs too much. itâs always too much, but tonight it sits heavier in your chest, lower in your stomach, something warm and insistent that doesnât let up between your legs.
your clit throbs.
âwaitââ utahime grabs your wrist, staring at you like youâve lost your mind. âyou hate this stuff.â
you donât even look at her. âitâll be fun,â you murmur, already pulling away. and then youâre moving. slipping from your seat on the edge of the pool and jumping in.
the water hits cool against your skin, a sharp contrast to the heat thatâs been building under it. you swim to sukunaâs side, breath catching slightly as you orient yourself to the chaos around you, because normally, usually, a crowded sweaty pool was something youâd avoid, butâheâs already looking at you. your thighs press together.
his eyes are not casual, not passing, heâs looking. his gaze drops first. slow and deliberate, catching the faint mark on your neck, the one he left last night, barely visible under the colored lights. his jaw ticks. then lower, just for a second, the way your body shifts in the water, the ripple of movement as you steady yourself, the rise and fall of your breasts threatening to spill out. the water calmly rocks underneath them. then his gaze shifts back to your face, and youâre still staring at him. youâre not even trying to hide it.
something about that makes his brow twitch.
because youâre not looking away. not when he meets your eyes. not when the noise around you spikes, not when someone splashes too close. your focus stays locked, heavy, almost⌠expectant.
it lingers a second too long. thenâ
âteams set!â the pledge yells, blowing the whistle way too aggressively. âfirst to tenâ no cheap shotsââ he glances around before catching geto lounged on the other side of the pool, some girl already pressed against his arm. âOH! no punches or choking!â
âshut up and start it,â gojo calls from the other side, already grinning, bouncing lightly in the water.
sukuna doesnât take his eyes off you for another beat. then he exhales through his nose, turning slightly, shoulders squaring as the ball is tossed into play and heâs in the pool.
the game starts rough. the second the ball is tossed, two guys are already lunging for it. water splashing high, bodies colliding mid-air before someone spikes it hard across the pool. girls moved out of the way, squealing as huge men fight. a chorus of shouts erupts from the sidelines, music still blasting behind it, neon lights flickers over wet skin and moving bodies.
gojo, the ever responsible fraternity president, grins like a man possessed on the other side. sukuna, the very responsible vice president, is barking like a mad man.
and of course, the competitive idiots fall into rhythm with each other. fast, aggressive, locked in, and every hit gets harder, a slightly more violent. every return is sharper and people start gathering closer to the edge, phones out, recording, yelling their names like itâs a real match instead of a drunk frat game.
âcâmon, kuna!â someone shouts.
âgojo! spike that shit!â
water slaps against tile. everything is moving fast, bodies move out of the way so theyâre not hit by the aggressive spikes from the frat hosts. but they still refuse to leave the pool because itâs fun, messy, loud, and heated.
and then the ball comes your way. your eyes widen, barely able to think, so you just react. your hands come up, fingers pushing against it just right, and somehow, youâre sending it up in a clean arc, right to him.
sukuna moves instantlyâŚ.he jumps, sculpted body cutting through the air, arm pulling back before he slams the ball down with violent force, sending it crashing into gojoâs side of the pool.
a winning point. a cheer explodes. and when he lands, water dripping down his shoulders, he glances at you, canines on display, as his deep voice cuts through the chaos to say, âgood girl.â itâs low, automatic, and it slips out without thought, just like how heâd praise you when youâre alone, and his voice is raspy as he whispers it in your ear, cock usually deep in your guts as he gives you another mean thrust that you take with pride, pussy clamping when he bottoms.
something fast, hot, and dizzying rushes through you. your chest tightens, skin buzzing as your breath stutters for a second. your thighs press together instinctively under the water, pulse kicking up in a way that feels almost overwhelming. and from that moment on, you stick to him. you try to chase the ball for him, pushing it back into his reach every chance you get, doing your best to avoid the large men playing the game. but your focus narrows, locked in on your hot fuck buddy like nothing else exists. every movement feels sharper, more urgent, your body reacting before your brain can catch up.
on the sidelines, people notice. how can they not? most of the girls âplayingâ cling to the perimeter. and then thereâs you, being an idiot, but a very hot one, throwing yourself in the middle. your bikini clings tight from the water, fabric hugging every curve, shifting every time you jump or twist. a few guys on the edge of the pool donât even bother pretending theyâre watching the game anymore. their eyes track you instead, murmurs passing between them. someone whistles when you jump to set the ball, breasts bouncing freely in the flimsy bikini top, your nipples hard underneath as water cascades like some playboy ad.
but sukuna, is too locked into the game to notice.
the first round ends with his team winning, and the second starts almost immediately, louder than before. people are picking sides now, chanting, recording, some still dancing on the grass behind them, focused on the dj, drinks sloshing as the party refuses to slow down around the chaos of the poolâs game.
youâre still right there again when it starts. you doubt youâre even playing anymore, but you wanted to see him, watch him jump high and spike the ball. watch the ink on his back ripple with his muscles. the same defined lines that you caress at night, and hugâ
your attention is so narrowed, that you donât even notice the guy at first. bodies are moving like a blur that you donât focus on another moving behind you. until itâs too near, too familiar for someone you donât know. then, a hand brushes your bare side under the water, lingering just a second too long making your blood run cold.
your eyes snap wide. âwhat the fuck!â you twist instantly, shoving him off hard, water splashing between you as your stomach turns. only a few people notice, the rest too consumed by the game until youâre moving straight towards a certain captain.
âTHATâS A FUCKING FOUL GOJOâwhat theââ
your arms wrap around him from behind without hesitation, pressing into him, chest flush against his back as you cling to one familiar form. tight, and instinctive.
it catches him off guard, just for a second. his body tenses slightly under your grip. his muscular arms lift, head turning halfway to see, âwho the fuckââ grabbed him in the middle of game! but then he sees you. and his eyes glance down at your familiar hands holding his chest. your name slips out of his lips, confused what youâre doing, but then the ballâs already back in play. and somehow he keeps going.
even with you wrapped around him, weight clinging to his back, he still moves, still blocks, still lands a hit that sends the ball flying back over the net. itâs messy now, uneven, but heâs too competitive to stop, jaw tight, focus split but still sharp. water splashes everywhere. people are yelling. gojo laughs from the other side. âwhat the hell is thatâ you got a handicap now?â
sukuna clicks his tongue, annoyed, shifting slightly to keep his balance with you still latched onto him. you donât let go. not once. âyou drunk?â he tries to talk to you mid-game.
âyeah,â you mutter over the music. but as more people fill the pool, and the third round feels much more chaotic, sukuna begins to notice. your grip tightens every time someone gets too close, every time someone accidentally touches you, every time your head spins just a little from the alcohol and the heat and everything. your cheek presses against his back, breath uneven, body still buzzing in a way you donât fully understand, other than the fact that you can feel how hot it is between your legs. he smells so goodâŚ
the game drags onâ until finallyâ gojoâs team takes the last point. a loud cheer erupts from his side, people splashing into the pool, celebrating, phones still up capturing everything.âtold you,â gojo grins, pushing his wet snowy hair back, muscles flexing for the cameras as he sticks his tongue out.
sukuna exhales sharply through his nose, annoyed, shoulders tenseâ he doesnât shake you off. but unfortunately, he doesnât get the chance.
youâre suddenly ripped away.
âwhaâ! what the fuck!â you yelp as a pair of hands grab you from underneath, a drunk junior dunking under the water before popping up with you lifted high onto his shoulders. just for the crowd to erupt.
âOH SHITâ chicken fight!â
âLETâS GO!â
âget her, get her!â other guys in the pool dunk under and lift a few laughing girls up. but youâre not one of them. your thighs clamp instinctively around the strangerâs head just to keep from slipping, heart racing, balance completely shot as water drips down your legs and chest. your hands fly to his hair, trying to steady yourself, panic flashing across your face. you didnât agree to this. your eyes lock with sukuna immediately. wide. confused. heâs not your boyfriendâ but heâs stillâŚ
something in him snaps. he straightens, fast. too fast. the playful edge from seconds ago gone completely, replaced with something sharp and violent, jaw tightening as his eyes drag over the way the guyâs hands are gripping your thighsâ and the whistles from the crowd donât help, especially when your hand reaches to adjust the way your bikini top had shifted.
âdamn!â
sukunaâs fist curls. âget your fucking hands off her,â he bites out, already moving forward through the water, splashing hard as he closes the distance.
the guy just laughs, drunk, clueless and not listening. ârelax, man, itâs just a chicken fight. ever heard of those?â
he doesnât get to finish. sukunaâs already pulling his arm back, when you squeak.
âwaitâ!â you gasp, trying to shift your weight, panic spiking as the situation spirals way too fastâbut before anything can land another pair of bodies crash into you. a second drunk chicken fight slams into your side, bodies colliding, completely losing balance. and then everything goes under. water rushes over your head in a blur of limbs and noise, the guy beneath you losing his footing as you both go down. you barely have time to register it before a hand grabs you. hard.
sukunaâs arm wraps tight around your waist, yanking you up and out of the water in one sharp motion. you cough, sputtering slightly, fingers clutching onto him as he steadies you against his side. he doesnât even look at you at first. heâs glaring past you.
âwhat the fuck is wrong with you?!â he snaps, voice low and dangerous, water dripping from his hair as he stares down the guy who just broke the surface, coughing. âyou fucking grab girls without permission and Iâm fucking snapping your arm in half!â
the junior lifts his hands, half-laughing, half-defensive. âyo, chillâ itâs just a gameââ
âi said donât touch her,â sukuna cuts in, sharper this time, stepping forward like heâs ready to swing anyway.
the energy shifts instantly. people nearby start stepping in, hands coming up.
âaye, chill, chillââ one tries to come between them. sukuna doesnât even notice that youâd managed to slip from his grip, still coughing as you swim to the steps of the pool, heart pounding as utahime, having seen the entire interaction helps you out.
âyou okay?â she sits in front of you on the edge handing you water.
you nod, chugging half the bottle, before breathing again, âswallowed likeâŚâ you gag, âa disgusting amount of that pool water.â utahime cringes as she glances at the pool. the interaction growing even more heated, as a crowd watches sukuna curse out the junior.
âanyone else fucking grab a girl without her permission is getting fucking banned from this frat permanently!â sukuna shouts. murmurs break out across the crowd, a few glance towards you, as utahime notices, but youâre too busy washing your mouth out to care.
gojoâs aloof attitude steps in after coming back with a sweet juice in hand. âokay, okay, weâre clear on consent arenât we guys?â
people hum, cheering for the games to continue. but thenâŚ
âdidnât know she was your girlfriend.â
it lands this time, cutting through the noise and sticking just long enough for a few whistles and low laughs to ripple through the crowd. the kind of comment meant to poke, to stir, to see what the hot headed vp will do with it. but whatâs worse is that a majority of the crowd has no clue what your relationship is with sukuna. aside from the frat members.
sukuna doesnât even look at him, and he doesnât correct it. itâs not because he wants to claim you. not because itâs true. but because itâs annoyingâbecause explaining it, denying it, entertaining it at all feels like more effort than itâs worth. heâs your fuck buddy, he knows that, you know that, and thats all. his jaw tightens once, eyes already elsewhere, done with the conversation before it can grow legs because then heâll really break his fucking arm.
the party moves on like it always does. music swells back up, as gojo and geto thank the heavens that sukuna was in a good mood before the argument that he wasnât tempered to continue the fight. luckily the drinks are raised again. gojoâs already laughing, pulling attention away, and just like that the moment dissolves into noise.
sukunaâs focus shifts and lands on you.
youâre still on the edge of the pool, legs dangling in the water, skin slick and glowing under the neon lights. your bikini clings tighter now, nipples pebbled under your soaked top, every curve on display, highlighted by the shadows of the lights above. it makes it impossible not to look. droplets trail down your thighs, catching the light as you tilt your head back slightly, still rinsing your mouth out, brows furrowed in clear disgust.
utahime sits in front of you, just as eye-catching to the hungry men around, her own bikini hugging her frame, water beading along her collarbones as she watches you with a mix of concern and amusement.
and people are staring. not subtle glancesâstaring like youâre something to watch. something to linger on. like the game earlier just shifted into something else entirely and now youâre part of it without agreeing. no wonder you hate these parties.
it irritates him, fast.
sukuna clicks his tongue under his breath and pushes forward through the water, tall enough that even standing in the pool, he closes the height between you easily. the neon catches on his skin too. his broad shoulders still damp, muscles flexing as he moves, water sliding down his torso in slow lines. heâs not unaware of the way people look at him eitherâgirls nearby pausing mid-conversation, eyes dragging over him openlyâbut he doesnât care. not right now. not when he reaches you.
his hand comes up without hesitation, settling on your exposed thigh where it hangs over the edge of the pool. his palm is warm even against your wet skin, fingers spreading slightly, firm enough to ground, possessive. the contact is immediate. deliberate.
the shift is noticeable. a couple of those lingering stares drop off instantly. only then does he look at you. his gaze flicks over your face, still a little flushed, still catching your breath, before settling. his gaze is steady, assessing the way your glossy lips part with an exhale after chugging an entire bottle of watet.
âyou good?â he asks, voice lower now, rougher around the edges from the leftover tension. his thumb moves slightly against your skin without thinking, a small, absent motion that doesnât match the sharpness in his expression.
utahime has to hold back an eye roll, especially when his gaze flicks over your face, then your lips. unbelievable. whatâs with him? whatâs stopping him from asking you out if he gets so hot headed and possessiveâughhhâŚutahime holds back her anger, because she was pissed when someone suddenly grabbed you and then had you dunked in the water. why does sukuna have to be so fucking weird though?! she internally curses out sukuan for being the person that always protects her best friend, but acts like a complete jerk another second.
âhow much sweat did you drink?â sukuna asks, tone laced with amusement .
your eyes snap, face grimacing, âshut the fuckâup,â you gag again, hand coming up to your mouth just for utahime to snort and sukuna to bark with laughter.
âdid i tell ya why we had to drain the pool last yearââ sukuna starts, utahimeâs eyes widen.
âoh my god I remember!â
your face pales, nails digging into sukunaâs shoulder while the other still covers your mouth. âdonât you dare tell me.â
sukuna grimaces with an amused expression remembering what happened at last years pool party. but distracting you has somehow managed to isolate everything else around him and have his sole focus on the way you wipe your mouth with a napkin utahime â and now nanami and geto at her side â comes back with, and the way your fingers shift from his shoulder to his forearm resting across your damp lap. and the conversation flows afterwards.
gojo was still on the dance floor, completely in his own world, some girl is pressed to his side as neon lights strobe over him laughing, loud, untouchable in the way he always is. meanwhile, the edge of the pool has settled into something more intimate and funny. the conversations around overlap as you all joke loudly and throwing around slight bickering, cooling off from the chaos, but still very much alive.
and with all that, you hadnât left. even after everything, youâre still sitting where you are, leg still dipped in the water, skin dewy under the lights, bikini keeping your pretty tits in view for a certain salmon haired man. your hair is slightly damp, pushed back from your face, exposing the curve of your neckâthe faint mark sukuna left the night before still visible if someone looks close enough. and you smell heavenly. fuck if youâre alone, heâd bury his nose closer to your breasts to smell the sweat clinging.
but people are looking. they always are now.
they just donât linger as long anymore. not with him there. sukuna leans into the edge of the pool, upper body braced beside you, his arm draped behind your back like it naturally falls there. his other hand rests lazily against your thigh, fingers tapping absently against your skin as he takes a sip from his beer. his shoulders are broad, still slick with water, veins visible along his arms as they flex with every small movement.
he looks just as much of a problem as ever. and the attention doesnât stop, girls nearby still steal glances, whispers, watching the way heâs positioned so close to you, the way his hand hasnât moved from your leg once. but whatâs more interesting, is that you donât move either.
you donât push him off, donât shift away. if anything, you lean just slightly into his space, your fingers absentmindedly tracing along his forearm where it rests across your lap, like itâs second nature. you like it there.
and sukuna notices. of course he does, with how touchy and clingy youâve been these past few days. yes, heâs shocked you havenât left, or havenât asked him to go upstairs with you. instead youâre being so uncharacteristically attached.
his gaze flicks down for a second, watching the way your fingers move against his skin, something unreadable passing through his expression before he looks away again, taking another sip like it didnât just register. his stomach churns when you lean forward slapping nanamiâs stretched out hand after he said something funny.
âwhy the fuck are you guys sitting here?â gojoâs voice cuts in suddenly, dripping with disbelief as he approaches, hair damp, grin lazy. he looks down at your little group, then at the pool like it personally offended him. âthis is embarrassing.â
utahime snorts. âshe almost drowned, idiot.â
âsheâs alive,â gojo shrugs immediately, already grabbing a drink from someone nearby. âget in the hot tub. itâs waaaay better!â
a couple girls attached to him nod eagerly, already following his lead as he starts heading that way without waiting for an answer. utahime glances at you. âyou wanna stay out orâŚ?â
you donât even hesitate as you hum, soft. âyeah, why not.â
sukuna catches it.
the group starts moving, the energy shifting with them as they make their way toward the hot tub. somewhere along the path, nanami and utahime get pulled into another conversation, stopping off to the side, leaving you and sukuna to keep going without them. your skin burns as sukuna keeps a subtle hand in your lower back, biting his lip when you reach the hot tub and you step in front of him. his gaze drops to the movement of your ass, your bikini was so skimpy itâs definitely clinging on to your pussy lips too. fuck,
by the time you step into the hot tub, the heat hits instantly. you sigh without meaning to, tension melting from your shoulders as the warmth wraps around you, soaking into your skin. your body relaxes almost immediately, the contrast from the cooler pool making everything feel heavier, slower.
sukuna steps in right after you. and immediately shoves two guys aside with a sharp nudge of his shoulder. âmove.â
they do quickly without argument, clearly frat members. he settles in beside you, close again, like earlier, like he didnât just create that space for you.
gojo drops in for half a second, splashing water everywhere before grimacing. âitâs too hot,â he complains, already climbing back out. âi need another drink.â
and just like that, heâs gone again. leaving you, sukuna, and the rest of the group laughing, talking. the conversation easy as the night keeps rolling around you. especially when geto comes back with some girls and red solo cups for beer pong.
âdonât spill any in the hot tub!â sukuna barks as the girls organize the cups in place on the edge. geto slides into the pool with the ping pong balls.
âshh shh i know,â he zips his friend up as he takes aim. and as the party is brought back to the hot tub, youâre all swept up again. and your eyes are following every movement of your friend beside you. the way heâs shouting and laughing with his frat brothers, the conversations turning to fog when sukuna flexes his large bicep, the ink that wraps around it highlights how big they are. you canât even recall the context of this sudden flex off, but youâre not complaining.
you watch his throat bop as he throws back another cup of beer, standing beside geto. your eyes trail over his sculpted chest. you suck in your bottom lip as sukuna falls back beside you. his arm draped behind you along the edge of the hot tub, barking another laugh at some crap geto is spewing, completely distracted.
âI swear TO GOD, you told me to go for that dive!â geto throws his hands up, flabbergasted.
ânah nah nahââ sukuna shouts over, shaking his head with an amused expression, âI told youââ
ânahâsatoru!!â geto looks over his shoulder, waving down the president. âSATORU!â
gojoâs head whips around. however, the debate is the furthest thing from your mind, honestly you canât even understand what these idiots are talking about. butâ thereâs one idiot that smells heavenly.
sukuna distracted, doesnât notice how much closer youâre pressed to him, how your lashes flutter at the mix of cologne and chlorine flooding your nose, and dizzying your mind. heâs soâuh..when menâ your brain is short circuiting. literally. mind so consumed by how big and strong this man beside is, that all you can think about is how he protected you. he pulled you out of the water. snapped at that guyâŚfor you.
youâre not normally this moved. but it was the series of events that unfolded, all in the last few hours, that has you doing what you do next.
âplease! you know i did not agree to that!â geto tsks, pointing his finger at gojo whoâs laughing, sitting at the edge of the hot tub, legs in. and the two â along with the rest of the group involved in the debate â are distracted, and unaware of the fact that the pretty girl that sukuna almost started a fight over, is slipping her pretty hand inside his swim shorts.
sukuna tenses. breath hitching.
his eyes snap to you, stomach clenching. âwhatâre youââ he chokes when you squeeze his thick base without warning. your cheek casually presses against his shoulder, wetting your bottom lip. your leg is tucked against his side, as the other swings over his knee, pretty tits squished against his arm. your wrist rolls, stroking his flaccid cock alive.
âryoâŚâ you speak low enough so that only sukuna can hear. âwas jusâ thinking about you.â his jaw tenses, hand clenching at the edge of the tub, leaning his head down.
âyouâre the one that doesnât like this shit,â he husks, throat bopping as you bat your lashes up at him, bitting your lip as you give his cock another squeeze, pushing your wet tits against his arm. âthereâs peopleââ
âthen be normal, ryo,â you say, all while nuzzling him like a clingy gâ âjust wanted to feel how big you are.â
his heads tips back, whatâre you even saying?
you keep your cheek pressed against his shoulder, lip tucked between your teeth as you stroke the vpâs fat throbbing cock in the middle of a party and in a hot tub full of his close frat friends.
it wasnât difficult for his dick to fully harden within seconds of your hand making contact. you let out a soft exhale, pressing your practically naked body against him like you could get any closer than you already are. but to make matters worse, he was so unbelievably turned on that you were touching him in public! fuuck, his stomach flexes, biting back a groan when your thumb swipes his bulbous tip, the water made it difficult for you to keep a fast pace stroke, but his skin was still prickling with heat.
âryo, is this okay?â you softly pant in his ear, a hum like moan escapes your lips just by the way he exhales through his nose, turning his head to you, aroma engulfing you.
to anyone else it just looked like you were having a private conversation with each other. the hot tub and pool, a few feet away, booming with chaos, no one was paying attention to you guys. but even with all that information, sukuna â who spreads his legs further apart in the water, biting his lip when you kiss his neck now, sucking a light bruise on his flushed skin â knows that youâd never do this. you get touchy when youâre drunk, whispering dirty shit in his ear. but youâve only had a couple drinks to make you tipsy enough to enjoy the party and remember, not black out drunk to jerk him off in public.
âyeahâitâs okay,â his head drops forward, hot red flush crawling up his neck and stinging his cheeks as he nudges your head with his.
âyeah?â you repeat with a coo.
he bites back a pathetic groan, arm sliding to your waist under the water, gripping your flesh like his life depends on it. youâre intoxicating.
âyeah baby.â
a flush of heat runs between your legs at his deep bedroom voice. sukuna is so hot, heâs so hot, so pretty, so sexy! you squeal internally, leaning closer to press your lips against his sharp jaw, whining just low enough for him to hear. your wrist twists down his cock. you hadnât even full realized that youâd taken him out of his swim trucks, to possessed to care as his fingers dig into your waist, while the other balls into a fist against the tubeâs edge.
âare you close, ryo? is your big cock gonna cum?â
unbelievable.
sukunaâs jaw tenses, abs tightening just by your voice. youâve been hanging up on how big he is. how big his hands are. how big his dick is â scratch that, youâre using the word cock now. yeah heâs gonna fuckinâ cum soon if you keep talkinâ like that.
âthereâs so many people around ry,â you shy quietly, âyou donât think they know Iâm playing with you?â your slightly tipsy eyes bat up at him, pupils completely dilated. his eyes briefly sweep around him, the alarms flashing in his mind donât seem to phase him as he drops his lips down to brush yours.
âwhat if they are aware?â he husks, lidded eyes boring into yours. âdoes that make yâr pussy wet?â he wets his lip, thighs flexing when you give his cock a squeeze as he speaks. âya like knowing that thereâs eyes everywhereâŚwatching your slutty self jerk me off.â
your brain short circuits. face burning hot.
âIâm not a slut,â you whisper, just as youâre practically straddling his thigh now, with the way youâre inching closer to him every second. his hand slides from your waist to your ass, gripping the flesh as he pulls it apart letting you feel the warm tube water touch your heated pussy.
âyouâre gettin on top of meââ
âto protect your dignity,â you attempt a frown, but your eyes keep flicking to his lips, brushing your lips against them again, just for him to pull back, again.
âdidnât take you as someone so generous,â he quips, hips angling up, subtly telling you to keep stroking him, even if itâs starting to feel like edging. âbut,â he bites back another groan, âbut to me, ya just look like another slut that wants to get her little pussy stuffed.â
you blink. once.
sukuna can see the lust burst behind your eyes. your thighs clamp around his beefy thigh, your hand squeezing his tip, and your lips parting. âis that so bad?â
ah fuck.
âyou canât say those words to a man,â sukunaâs rasps.
you pout, pressing your wet breasts against his chest, trapping his cock between your bodies. your hot breath fans against his face, scent invading his mind, and your lips brush against his, this time licking his bottom lip. once. twice. your tongue strokes his bottom lip, waiting for him to invite you in, whining a little louder when he refuses. âryo.â
his large palms grip your ass. your flimsy bikini could easily be pulled to the side, exposing you just like him. your cheeks flush, arching even more, your arms are tossed around his broad shoulder, fingers tangling in the hair at his nape, desperate. needy. âIâve been holding myself back ryo,â you quietly speak, unaware how much like dĂŠjĂ vu this feels. memories of last month flashing in his mind about those exact words coming from your lips as you climbed into his lap in the middle of a party. âyou have to take care of it.â
âi have too?â he quips with a sharp edge in his tone.
your flush with embarrassment, lips petting as your eyes flutter shut, âpleaseâŚplease can you take care of it.â
unbelievable.
his cock twitches violently against your stomach. his muscular thigh flexes under your pussy making your lips part.
as you and sukuna speak in hushed whispers. a good group of people have take notice of the awkward shifting in the hot tub and the unrecognizable look on sukunaâs face. but specifically the girl that the sukuna let attach herself to him during a violently competitive water volleyball match and almost pick a fight with. heâs smirking as she whispers in his ear, her lips even pressing his lobe, making the intimidating vice president blush?!
âher tits are all over him,â one whispers, taking a sip as they watch from a distance, both sitting at the pools edge watching the events unfold a few feetâs away in the hot tub. itâs not obvious unless youâre staring as hard as these guys, or if youâre a certain man laughing as you stand up at the edge of the tub, face dropping for a millisecond when you catch your vice president getting off by a hot girl.
fucking animals, geto shakes his head, eyes flicking to gojo, easily communicating with him about you know.
gojoâs brows pinch glancing over from his seat at the edge of the tub, toâ âoh shit!â
geto elbows him. âidiot!â
gojoâs hands fly to his mouth, laughing hysterically as he stares at the way his short tempered friend is blushing like crazy, and making it obvious to anyone that heâs getting his dick touched right now. âdo they know what theyâre doing?â gojo speaks in hushed whispers.
âobviously,â geto sits beside gojo, the tub water doesnât seem to be appealing anymore. and yet thereâs still a few people on the sides laughing, too drunk to notice.
âfucking pervs,â gojo snickers.
a beat passes.
then gojo turns, eyes wide when he sees geto staring blankly at him. âwhat?â
âyouâre worse!â geto slaps him upside the head. gojo gasps in shock. âI canât even remember how many times you fucked someone in here and in the poolââ
âhey,â gojo frowns, cheeks flushed from the alcohol. âthat wasâŚb-because they were hot.â
geto scoffs, âyou werenât even subtle about them, everybody knew you were fucking them. YOUâRE the biggest perv.â
gojo nods, âyeahâŚâ
your whine flows directly into sukunaâs ear, lips coming back to his. âwhy wonât you kiss me?â you quietly demand.
his dimples press into his cheeks as he bites back a smirk. âweâre jusâ talking,â he says your name, but in that deep way he does when heâs stuffing you with his cockâŚwhich heâs not.
you sit up closer, sliding higher up his thigh, knee rubbing harshly against his cock â âah!â you squeal suddenly straddling his lap instead of his thigh. his red irises sink into yours, watching the way your glossy lips part glancing at the surface of the hot tub trying to make out how close his cock is to where you need him. âyouâre hard ryo.â
âand?â
your eyes flick up to him, pretty brows pressing together, âand weâre not jusâ talkingââ
âyâknowââ he suddenly chokes.
youâve moved your bikini to the side, and pushed his cock down, fully sitting on his cock and sliding across it, hips shaking, stimulating your needy clit.
your name cuts through the air, his grip moves to grab your hips, trying to keep you still, but his body betrays him as he bucks against you. âfuck, woman.â
your lips press against sukuna, whining like a desperate slut when he finally kisses you back. and this was why he didnât want to entertain you this quickly. the sweet taste of your lips immediately rush the heat down into his cock, his arm wraps around your back, holding the back of your head as the other grips your ass, groaning as your lips smack in wet hungry kisses. your tongues collide, spit collecting in your mouth as he groans in response.
sukuna has to be responsible. he has too. but youâre such a fucking slutâ touching his cock, stroking him in public, rubbing your body (his biggest weakness) against him like youâre alone together. and now rubbing youâre humping his cock like you can even feel something with the waterâs friction.
all of it was a factor, and for some unexplainable reason, all the dots seemed to have connected at this exact momentâlike a huge light bulb going off in his head.
âshit.â
you hum at the way his deep voice sends a warm heat blooming in your stomach. âare you turned on, ryo?â your lips purse, kissing his, unaware of the sudden realization heâs come too. âkeep kissing me.â
your fingers thread through his short locks, gripping him as you keep his lips moving yours.
but sukunaâs palm splays across your spine, groaning at the you canât even stop to catch your breath. then his grip tightens. his mouth drags slower this time, more deliberate. heâs testing something, and the way you reactâhow quick you melt back into him, how your nails press into his shoulders like youâre holding on and the pitched whine that leaves your lips when he tries to pull away.
âhow bad dâyou need me?â he murmurs, voice low, rough, right against your pretty lips.
you donât hesitate. âso bad,â you breathe, almost frustrated, because itâs obvious.
his eyes flick over your face, searching, calculatingâthen narrowing slightly. âyeah?â he hums, thumb pressing into your waist, grounding you as you shift again, his cock snug between your folds. âwhy,â he asks, tone not soft or gentle, but testing.
you shake your head slightly, breath catching, fingers tightening on him. âbecauseâ i justââ you exhale sharply, frustrated, needy, âi just want you to touch me.â
thatâs all he needs. a quiet, almost amused exhale leaves him, something darker settling behind his eyes now. nanamiâs little comment about ânoticing nowâ makes his stomach churn uncomfortably. it doesnât mean anything that youâve had this friend with benefits deal long enough for him to start noticing a pattern every month. especially when this part comes around and youâre practically begging him to just touch you. he highly doubts that you even notice it.
âbeen like this all night,â he mutters, more to himself than to you, but his grip doesnât loosen. if anything, it gets firmer. âcanât keep your hands off me, huh?â
you donât even deny it. you just pull him back in. and this time he lets you. letâs you kiss him like itâs your last time, letâs you tug his hair like he belongs to you. letâs you pull away with panting at him through glossy lidded eyes.
and then sukuna notices.
the shift.
your breathing breaks. shallow and uneven. you canât quite catch it as your lips part, soft, glossy, letting out these higher, breathier sounds that youâre not even trying to hold back anymore. itâs quieter than the music, but he hears it. feels it.
his grip tightens instinctively.
your hips are moving without any rhythm now. theyâre slow, needy, desperate. your body chasing something it canât reach fast enough. your fingers press into his lower stomach, clutching there like you need something solid to hold onto, your head tipping forward, lashes fluttering like a fucking angel. and your mouth falls open. a soft, pitched sound slips out of youâone you donât even seem aware ofâand itâs enough to make something dark flicker across his expression.
ââŚfuck,â he mutters under his breath, eyes locked on your face now, watching every little change his cock twitching uncontrollably.
your brows pinch, then your body tenses, then softens, like a wave hitting and pulling back all at once. your grip on him tightens, thighs pressing in, grounding yourself on his cock without even thinking about it.
and he doesnât move. doesnât interrupt it. he just watches. because now he knows. and all he can think is how unbelievably hot you look in his eyesâlike something wired wrong in his brain just flipped on. women that are ovulating mean theyâre more likely to get pregnant. fuck. why is his brain latching onto that part? youâre his fuck buddy. this is simple. it is simple. itâs perfectly reasonableâcompletely normal, evenâfor him to get turned on thinking about how much you cling to him, how much you crave him, how much you need him, how your body reacts to him like this. that doesnât mean he wants to get youâ
absolutely the fuck not.
but stillâŚfucking women. youâre insane. his brain is short circuiting while youâre coming undone on his lap, in a hot tub, in the middle of a packed party.
and the way youâre panting, your breasts pushed together as you keep a hand on his lower abs, pussy spasming as your orgasm rocks through you, has something low and satisfied settling in your fuck buddyâs chest. his hand slides up your back again, slower this time, more deliberate.
âyeahâŚâ he murmurs, almost to himself, thumb pressing lightly into your side as your breathing tries to steady. âthatâs what i thought.â
his lips ghost over you.
then he feels itâŚthe eyes.
his dark gaze flicks up. meeting the dilated blue and black ones, along with the others in the crowd. they all saw, didnât they. witnessed something that had his jaw tightening and his pupils returning to their size.
âfuck me,â you pant quietly, arms lazily coming back to his shoulders coming down from your climax. you kiss him deeply, unaware of the mess youâre causing inside his brain. âIâve heard people say hot tubâs make you orgasm better,â you lick his tongue, âbecause of the hot water.â
his grip tightens around you, eyes open and staring past you at the people eyeing the arch in your back as you make out with him like you didnât just hump yourself to an orgasm in public.
âdo you wanna cum too ryo?â your mischievous smile wouldâve made any man buckle, but sukuna wasnât any man. and he sure as shit isnât a fucking cuck.
âno.â
his sudden tone shift had you pulling back, wet hand touching his damp cheek. sukunaâs thick brows were pulled tightly, clearly angry, at what? youâre not sure. but youâre too lax to think much of it as you squish his cheeks between your fingers. his tatted arm possessively hugged you, eyes briefly leaving the not so subtle audience behind you, to meet your glass eyes.
âyou mad I came before you?â you tease, head tilting in mockery. cute. âitâs okay, Iâll make ya cum,â you whisper, smile gracing those sinful lips for yours. âIâll let you choose tooâŚâ
fuck, youâre insane.
ââŚmy handsâŚmy lipsâŚ.or my tight, pretty pussyâŚ.â
you shrug biting your lip, batting your pretty lashes at him. âyou always call it that. Iâm just using your vocabulary, mister suhâŚkuâŚnuh.â
that was his final straw, because in a blink of an eye, sukunaâs tucking himself and pushing off the tubâs seat, standing up. water cascades down the sharp planes of his abs, his swim trunks clinging low on his hipsâleaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.
and people notice.
of course they do.
your jaw drops for half a second, eyes going wide before heat floods your face so fast it almost burns. you shoot up right after him, fist clenching at your side, brows pinching tight. âwhatâre you doing?â
âweâre going upstairs,â he says simply, like there arenât a million eyes on him, more specifically his thick bulge. girls are openly staring now, not even trying to hide it as their gazes drag over him, over the obvious outline pressing against his trunks.
your stomach twists. uncomfortable. sharp. ugly. you donât name it. you wonât name it because itâs stupid. you no claim, no say, no right to feel any type of way about who looks at him or how they look at it. but still, your jaw tightens because the way theyâre staring is making your blood boil and itâs like theyâre in on something theyâre not supposed to be. theyâre looking at something that has nothing to do with them and everything to do with you. just you.
your eyes flick back to him, to the way the water trails down his body, the way he stands there like he doesnât give a single fuck about the attention. and it only makes it worse. he looks like heâs been carved out of stone. something untouchable. and everyoneâs fucking touching him with their eyes.
your lips press into a thin line, pulse uneven, heat sitting low in your stomach now for an entirely different reason as you step closer to him without even realizing it, hand settling on his stomach blocking the view from the onlookers. your fingers twitch. and you hateâŚhate how much it bothers you.
âyouâre hard,â you huff, pushing him to step out of the tub, heart beating uncontrollably.
sukuna snorts, leaning down, âyeah no shit.â
âpeople are staring,â you grit.
your pulse stops. the air shifting around you, then you feel it. sukunaâs eyes bore into you, as his palm cups the side of your neck. your lips part in confusion when his gruff voice cuts.
âtheyâve been staring.â the muscles on his jaw flex, pupils moving over your face as his gaze drops to your body. âthey allâŚâ his words trail off. he canât say itâŚhe canât tell you they all fucking saw you cum, or the way your entire form looked like something straight out of every guys wet fantasy. all because of that unspoken tug that twists in his chest as you look up at him.
his head tips back in defeat.
unaware of the turmoil, you continue pushing him back, glancing briefly over your shoulder to see a few eyes not on the party but staring at sukuna.
âcan you walk faster,â you mutter.
sukuna suddenly grabs your wrist after another push backwards, almost making him trip. his grip is firm and fast, yanking you back toward him before you can take another step, your body colliding lightly into his chest. water still drips from both of you, heat clashing with the cool night air as he steadies himself, jaw tightening for a second.
âwatch it,â he mutters, low, though thereâs no real bite to it. if anything, thereâs something else there. his hand doesnât leave your wrist. instead, it slides up, fingers curling tighter as he pulls you closer. closer. until thereâs barely any space left between you. you barely get a word out before he leans down and kisses you.
hard.
itâs sudden. messy. all teeth and heat, like heâs cutting off whatever rush of thoughts were building in your head. your hands come up instinctively, gripping into his shoulders as he angles you just right, one hand now firm at your waist to keep you there. your lips part, immediately tasting his skilled tongue.
and around you, the party doesnât stop. it never does when itâs grown this chaotic. but there are pockets, small ones, where people notice. gojo, still leaning back against the hot tubâs edge, lets out a low laugh. âzero awareness,â he mutters, clearly entertained. geto just shakes his head, amused, watching the scene unfold like itâs expected. neither of them have the energy tonight to call their friend out, but theyâll be sure to give him shit tomorrow.
but off to the side, a couple girls lean into each other, whispering behind their solo cups, eyes flicking between sukuna and the very obvious situation heâs not bothering to hide. further back, a few of the same guys from earlier in the pool linger, their stares a little too heavy, a little too interested, but sukuna doesnât register it.
heâs too focused on you. too focused on the way you kiss him back just as hard. how youâre still letting out those fucking whines and moans into his hot mouth. too focused on how quickly you fold into him like heâs the oxygen keeping you alive. to him, this urgency and impatience, just reads as one thing. you want him so bad.
he pulls back just enough to breathe, lips still brushing yours, his gaze dropping to your face, slightly dazed, flushed, and lips parted from the kiss.
ââŚyeah,â he exhales, almost amused, thumb pressing into your waist like heâs grounding himself. âyou taste so good.â
your fingers tighten around his bicep, the other around his shoulder, breath uneven as you blink up at him, still catching up.
âcan weââ you swallow, then try again, quieter but more urgent, âcan we go upstairs now?â
thereâs a beat. then his hand slides down to yours again, grip tightening as he turns, already moving toward the house without another wordâpulling you with him. he pushes straight through the noise that follow inside, the lights, the bodies still dancing in the kitchen like nothing. all the way up to his room, and immediately kicking the door shut.
and within a blink of an eye, your tongue is lolling out as sukuna sits behind you, fingers digging into your ass and face buried from behind.
âfuhâfuck yeah,â you drawl, lips wet at the feel of sukuna tongue dragging inside your pussy, lapping up and toying with your rim before going back to suck your slick juices. âcâmon ry, haahâŚâ youâre pushing his head back, so you can sit up. you move to tug his wet trunks off, crawling onto his lap once he discard them. unbothered by the tick in his jaw at your stubbornness, because in seconds, your head is tossed back, and your back is arching as you sink down on nine thick fat inches. âaâŚ.ahââ
your lashes flutter, eyes rolling back at the unbelievable stretch. your pussy swallowing every inch like the slut he loves.
âthere ya go,â he praises, fingers digging into your ass as you stare at his lips. his sharp teeth sink into his bottom lip as the slick that lubricates his cock. your pussy a generous fountain as you roll your hips, letting his cock stuff deep inside you. âtake this fuckinâ cock like a good bitch.â
âryâŚhaahâŚâ youâre moaning in choked gasps, drool peaking at the corner of your lips as you finally sit back on his thighs.
the manâs pupils dilate as you stroke your lower stomach, feeling the bulge as you bat your lashes up at him. âyouâre inside me now, ryo.â
fuck you. seriously.
his brain short circuits in seconds. and now all he sees is you.
his body reacts like a dog with his master. obeying your needs like heâs wired to do that. and heâs not complaining. his hand falls on your ass, beefy thighs spreading, as he meets your bounces with rough snaps of his hips. your ass claps against his thighs with each bounce, gasps piercing the air as he fucks up into you with full force. and you let him.
âlook like a fuckinâ porn star in top of me,â he grunts, swallowing a moan when you clamp around him, finger tugging on the knot around your neck letting your bikini finally fall off, freeing yours tits. âfucking bratââ
his tongue falls out, licking your tit that bounces in his face, lips wrapping around your nipple and sucking desperately. and heâs not nice about it. because now he knows. he knows youâll let him. when youâre ovulating youâll let him be a little harder, because it feels good. it feels good to feel his teeth bite down on your nipple possessively. it feels good when he spanks your ass until your eyes are rimmed red and flooding with tears.
it feels good to have him obsessed with you, because all youâre begging for isâŚ
âcuâuhâcum.â
an electric current runs down his spine, jaw clenching and head tipping back, flooding your tight pussy with his thick load.
âshitânghhh fuuuckâfuck baby,â heâs gripping your hips as you press against his stomach, rocking on his cock. he doesnât fully realize his back is laying against the bed. not when youâre milking his cock like heâs some fucking cowâŚand yet⌠âshit keep goin, babyâyeah ya want m-Mmm shit.â
âfeel so good ryo.â you shake your ass, feeling his cock twitch inside you when his arm wraps around you, tugging you down to his chest.
âyou can keep going?â
you smile, hand touching his cheek, as your tongue strokes his bottom lip. âyeah.â you sigh, whining so softly he wouldâve missed it. and you continue like that, kissing him over and over, sighing and calling his name as he pulls out, his fingers push inside your pussy from behind.
âyâr killing me with this tight pretty pussy,â he coos, sending a wave of heat through your veins.
you mewl against his lips, earning a hard spank to your ass, just for his middle and ring finger to slip back inside you. and he doesnât that for god know how long, and when you finally spasm around his digits, heâs flipping you over and easily getting on top.
âkeep em open cmon.â his low voice has your pussy pulsing, pushing his previous load out. he must know his voiceâs affects on you.
you hold your legs open, bottom lip between your teeth as you watch sukuna stroke his member over you. the room smells of chlorine, you, and him. âtheere we go,â he groans, palm pressing against your knee as he kneels closer to your open legs, dilated pupils staring at the mess between your legs as he slaps his hard cock on your pussy. âwhat dirty fuckinâ girl,â he drags his cock between your slippery folds, exhaling through his nose when his engorged tip catches your sore clit.
âryoomen,â you call softly, like you havenât been all over these last two days.
he snorts, âwhat happened to mister sukuna? donât tell me youâ forgot how you humped yourself to an orgasm in the poolââ
âhot tub.â
âmy bad,â he remarks sarcastically, tip pushing inside then pulling out again, teasing. âstill rubbed this pussy raw, look,â he slaps his cock again, thumb rubbing your little bundle of nerves making you let go of your legsâ âahâkeep em open.â he spanks the inside of your thigh. âdirty girls need to be taught a lesson.â
âpleaseee,â you scoff, sitting up on your elbows, âyou were literally slapping everyone around with his hard your dick was.â
sukuna barks out a laugh. âmy dickâs that big?â
you glance down at him, then back up. âI wasnât being dirty. you were dirty too.â
âme?â heâs baffled, youâve been throwing yourself at him all night!
you raise a brow at him, relaxing back against the pillows and headrest, eyeing him. âyou never took your hands off me.â
sukuna scoffs, âas if, you latched onto me on the pool.â
âthen i went to hime to wash my mouth out, and youââ you point at him with emphasis, âcame swimming to me, touching me, stroking my thigh, my back.â your brow quirks again, and sukuna goes mute. his jaw ticks, glancing over your face as your calf subtly hooks over his thigh, stroking up as your hands lay on your stomach, waiting.
âyouâŚâ he licks the back of his teeth, sharp eyes threatening, but⌠âso what if I had my hands on you?â oh, he admits it. your cheeks sting, wetting your lip as you shrug.
âwell,â you tilt your head again, slightly embarrassed now, glancing down at his inked chest. âlikeâŚyou canât blame me for getting turned on then.â
âbecause Iâm touching you?â
you nod.
âlike this,â his palm trails from your knee, slowly up your thigh. the warmth of his skin feels like itâs leaving a trail across your body.
you nod.
his hand reaches your waist, eyes boring into yours. his cock throbbing at this point, he can feel the slick of your arousal costing his cock as it rests against your pussy. turning to some light foreplay after just fucking you was messing with his headâŚbecauseâŚ.it feels so good.
âwhat about when Iâm touching your waist,â his thumb strokes the soft skin. âitâs not your ass.â
your breath is uneven. your heart beats against your rib cage. âstill,â you exhale.
âstill turns you on?â he clarifies, catching the way your lips part, breathless just by the way heâs flirting with you. his cock twitchesâŚyouâre gorgeous.
you nod.
his free hand caresses your hips, moving it up your body in feather-like-caresses. his other arm is pressed beside you, keeping himself up as he watches your arms lay bend beside you. his hand lightly brushes the side of your breast before trailing over your collarbone. âstill?â
you nod, wetting your bottom lip, blown pupils maintaining eye contact.
his thumb caresses your collarbone, eyes flicking between your eyes and the way your chest is rising and falling in uneven breaths. âhow about now?â his palm glides over your bicep, then down your arm, before threading his fingers with yours.
you squeeze his hand, eyes unable to tear away from his. his face inches closer to yours, exhaling against your lips. âI think youâve jusâ been horny these past few days.â
your breath stutters, angling your chin up, âobviously,â you mutter against his lips. âIâm pretty sure Iâm ovulating.â
something dark and electric flashing through his eyes. a low exhale leaves him, almost a laugh, but thereâs no humor in itâjust heat, thick and immediate, his grip on your hand tightening to the point it almost borders on rough.
âyeah?â he murmurs, voice dropping, rougher now, like itâs scraping out of his throat. his forehead nudges against yours for a second, like heâs grounding himself, but it doesnât work. if anything, it makes it worse. âtell me you want me to stuff you then.â
âI want you to stuff me, ryo,â you repeat, breathless as his jaw slacks finally rocking his hips into yours, slick cock massaging your folds.
âkeep going,â he husks.
your free hand trails up his bicep, the other still holding his hand like an anchor. âI want you to fuck me. use me. cum in me.â
âah fuckââ he slips his hand between your bodies, pushing his cock down and snapping his hips into yours, sheathing his entire length inside. your jaw drops, broken cry slipping out. âyâ really know how to make a man fucking hard.â
your lips are glossed with spit as presses his lips against them. swallowing your moans as he snaps his hips into a mean thrust, picking up a brutal pace without warning.
and you love it.
the base downstairs shakes the bedroom walls, the laughing and chatter outside the windows is nothing compared to the way youâre panting and crying in his ear. the lights flickering from the strobe lights outside, only serve to illuminate your flushed face as you cum.
âfuck, you still want more,â heâs already kissing you again, and again. spit mixing together against your tongues as he pulls away. he pants over your face, his cheeks flushed pink and his cock rubbed raw. âfuck gunna cumâŚngh yeah fuck fuckââ he pistons his cock inside you poor cunt, dilated pupils zeroing on the mess thatâs gushing from you. his chuckle is broken with his groan as he fucks you through it all. âkeep squirting baby, wonât make me stop.â
and he doesnât. his thrusts are rough. harder than usual because he knows heâll get away with it just a bit more when youâre ovulating. and even as youâre gasping, back of your hand raised to your mouth, pussy spasming as sukuna slams his body weight behind each thrust â you donât push him away.
âgunna cumâŚshiit, shit itâs comingââ and it feels like a damn crashing. his cock pulses inside you, squirting buckets inside your poor cunt. âhaah fuhââ his abs flex, body weight dropping on top of you, hugging you tight as he rocks his hips into lazy humps. the rasp in his throat has you holding him tight, unbothered by how unbelievably heavy he is.
and sukuna stays like that. face buried in your neck, arms clutching onto you, and brain fried.
âyou also smell sweeter,â he mutters.
âI donât. youâre just a freak.â
he buries his nose deeper in your neck, inhaling sharply. âhaah fuck, yeah you definitely smell good.â
your brain short circuits, cheeks flooding hot as you wiggle underneath him. âyou canâtââ
âyou humped me in the hot tub.â
your brows scrunch together. âso?â
he licks your neck, âthen you canât blame me for still being turned on by you.â he licks a strip up to your ear, a tingle runs down to your pussy, squeezing around him.
he smirks.
of course he does. and why wouldnât he? youâre already nudging him to your lips, kissing him again, like youâre stuffed with loads of his cum.
âyouâre cute,â he mutters between kisses, and even if that makes your stomach flip, and your face burn, and heart skip a beatâŚyou donât comment about it. you donât address. and you sure as shit donât think about it.
and the simple answer is, heâs kissing you right now and thatâs all you want to think about it.
more frat!kuna here
a/n: Iâm blaming the grammar errors on you guys for the rush (I also hate proof reading). but I hope u guys enjoyed it. believe me when I say, I was not expecting it to be that freaking long, I just really wanted to write sukuna and reader kinda skinny dipping, without losing their dynamic or doing something super uncharacteristic, so I dragged out the plot. but still I hope u guys liked it!
and thank you for the wait. I really put most of my free time into this so I canât tell u when Iâll finish the next chapter of the series, so bare with me for another possible week of agony :â(
Toji knows the best decision he made for the holidays was hiring Megumiâs sitter. She all the energy to keep up with the rambunctious toddler. Toji works extra during the fall and winter season to ensure his son could have some good gifts. The one thing he lacked during the holidays were decorations. That was something that bummed her out, especially with the way she saw Megumiâs eyes light up at the decorations they saw when they went out on their morning walk with the dogs on the leash and Megumi in the stroller.
âGumi, want to go get decorations? We can surprise your daddy when he gets homeâ She asks squatting in front the stroller smiling at him, as his chubby cheeks raised as he grinned back at her, clapping his chubby hands together.
âTree!â he exclaims happily, she walked them back to the house feeding the dogs before packing Megumi up putting him in the car to head to the store. They had a blast shopping for decorations, a pretty big tree, ornaments, lights, and stockings. When they made it back to the Fushiguro home, the toddler and her started setting up the tree. She had Christmas tunes flowing through the home as she picked Megumi up singing to him as they danced around decorating the Christmas tree. The melodious sounds of Megumiâs giggles intertwined beautifully with the music. He helped place ornaments in high places. They even put the star on the tree together, stockings for Toji, Megumi, and the two dogs hang on the mantle dangling over the fireplace. When Toji was entering the house he was greeted with the smell of dinner she made for the two, looking into the freshly decorated living room Megumi, their two dogs, and her sat on the floor near the tree cuddled up on the floor as she read a Christmas book.
His heart fluttered at the sight, making him internally scold himself for feeling this way without his permission. He has been interested in his sonâs sitter since she started. The way her eyes and smile brightened whenever she saw Megumi, even him. She was like a gentle breeze to him, yet at the same time he could just assume the chaos she could bring. However, he would welcome that chaos with open arms. He cleared his throat grabbing their attention.
âLooks like you two had funâ his lip twitched up into its signature smirk. Her eyes look up meeting his.
âI hope you donât mindâ she says with a small smile; âIâm sorry for not asking firstâ she added.
âDaddy look!â Megumi points to the decoration as his little legs carrying him as fast as they could grabbing Tojiâs hand dragging him over to the tree and then to the stockings for him to see.
âThereâs a stocking missingâ Toji states glancing over his shoulder looking directly at her.
âOh I didnât think I should have one for myself up there. Iâm just the sitter after allâ she says looking back down at the book she was just reading to Megumi, who stormed over plopping himself into her lap placing his chubby hands on her cheeks.
âNo. Family.â His little voice states as firmly as he could.
âThe kid is rightâ Toji squats down to be eye level with her. âYouâre part of this chaotic bunch. Put a stocking up for yourselfâ he adds.
âMr. Fushiguro..â she starts and he immediately holds a hand up.
âSweetheart, how many times do I have to tell you just call me Toji?â he asks crossing his arms leaning against the wall.
She laughed in response, something that made her face light up, âAt least a few more times Mr. FushiâŚTojiâ she corrects herself.
âBetter put a stocking up there for yourself sweetheartâ His eye contact made her shiver in a good way. Megumi runs to the shopping bags and pulls out the stocking that was her favorite color holding it up to his dad.
âHere daddy, put it upâ He demands like the little dictator he is. Toji takes it carefully going into the kitchen for a permanent marker writing her name across the top of it hanging it next to his.
âThatâs how it should beâ He states going to stand next to her draping his arm around her shoulder. She opened her mouth to make a rebuttal, but he turned her to face him. âYou brought Christmas into this house, expect to be included. In everythingâ He said the last part in her ear.
âEverything?â she asks looking up at him as Megumi runs to hug her legs, she scoops him up to place him on her hip.
âNeed this everydayâ Megumi declares resting his head on her shoulder.
âI agreeâ She rests her head against his smiling.
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warnings: 18+ mdni, piv unprotected, f!receiving oral, hair pulling, and i think thatâs it
day 15: office sex with nanami
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you brought him his lunch he âforgotâ at home today. so being the loving wife you brought his lunch in a cute little sundress. you even brought ino a lunch knowing how hard heâs been working. as soon as nanami closed his office door he had you pinned against it.Â
âyou look good darlingâ he leans down to whisper in your ear. his hands slide down gripping the back of your thighs lifting you with ease. âi want to say you came here just to tease meâ he whispers in your ear before kissing down your neck marking his territory.Â
âyou forgot your lunch kenâ you gasp when he nips your sweet spot.Â
âyet you wore a dress you knew would distract me from my workâ his hands slide the straps down your shoulder your breasts spilling out. âyou also seemed to have forgotten your braâ he muses continuing to kiss his way down taking his time with each breasts covering it with love bites and paying extra attention to each nipple.Â
he slowly sinks to his knees keeping his grip on you as he undid your legs from his waist placing them on his shoulders when he got to his knees he buried his face in your pussy. each lick seemed to be planned perfectly, just like every time he eats you out. he has your body memorized perfectly. from the ways to make you fall apart down to where every mole, scar, or birthmark is.Â
âiâm debating if i should take you against this door or bend you over my deskâ he says kissing your thigh.
âdesk pleaseâ you request, not too keen on wanting to be heard against the door. standing back up he guides you to his always neat desk giving your ass a good smack bending you over before lifting your dress.Â
âno panties either darling? you did this on purposeâ he groans shoving two fingers into you and his other hand works to free himself from his trousers which hit the floor with a thud due to his belt. removing his fingers from you he lined up with your entrance one quick thrust in hitting that spot that makes you scream his name. âthat it isnât it darling? needed a quick fulfilling lunch didnât you?â he asks as he thrusts into you, one hand in your hair, the other reached around to play with your clit. thankfully his office is sound proof. however, his coworkers arenât idiots.
âkento pleaseâ your plea like the worlds most beautiful symphony to his ears.Â
âwhat do you want darling? use your words darlingâ he leans down whispering his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. his thrusts kept a steady yet teasing pace.Â
âi want to cum please kentoâ the need in your voice his cock twitch. his thrusts speed up, as he pulls you up by your hair. your back meeting his chest kissing your neck and shoulders marking his territory.Â
âgo ahead darling, i can tell youâre closeâ and heâs right you are on the edge. âcome on and show me why you really brought my lunch todayâ he reached a hand around to play with your clit along with the speed of his thrusts.Â
âkentooooâ you moan as your walls clamp down around him, his thrusts falter at the feeling. you release around him first, pulsing around him as you soak his cock. he spills inside you giving your shoulder another kiss before slowly pulling out. he doesnât even bother cleaning you up yet but pulls you into his lap as he sat in his chair.Â
âweâre definitely going to doing that againâ he states kissing your chin. âthank you for the lunch darlingâ
one night while he was on patrol, you were out on the town with your girls in his area. when he saw you helping your friends into their rides, he knew it was his time to come walk you back home.Â
âwell if it isnât my favorite vigilanteâ you grin towards the dark alleyway where he stood. he steps out into the light wrapping an arm around your waist briefly.Â
âhey doll. have fun?â he asked his voice sounding huskier to you tonight more than usual.Â
âmhm had so much fun. just wish you were there to dance with meâ you sigh leaning against him. âi know it was girls night, but i hate going out without youâ you continue as you check him out. he nods knowingly. in reality he doesnât like knowing youâre out and he canât be there constantly. when he walked the leather of his jacket gripped his biceps just right each time. subconsciously biting your lip as you look over him for two reasons: one making sure heâs alright, and two because he looks damn good.Â
âyouâre staring dollâ he grins behind his helmet, the amusement evident in his tone. he places a hand on your waist tugging you to him, bringing you against his hard body.Â
âyou just look real good jay. helmet and all.â you compliment starting to feel tingly from the shots you took with the girls. however, you were still the most coherent by the end of the night because you knew your hero would be coming to escort you home. âdo you want head or something?â you flirt.Â
âdonât start something you wonât finish dollâ he chuckles.Â
âyouâre gonna be the one finishingâ placing your hand on his bicep. his chuckles increase as he wraps an arm around you pulling you close.Â
âis that a promise doll?â he asks as the two of you approach the apartment taking his helmet off.Â
âmhm but i want you to keep the helmet onâ you grab his arm dragging him into the building. once you two make it through your door, you have him pressed against it as you drop to your knees in front of him. âmay i?â you ask sweetly before touching him.Â
âdoll if you donât i may cryâ he jokes looking down at you through the lenses of his helmet. your hands move quickly to unzip his pants tugging them down along with his boxers. his cock springing free.
âsomeone missed meâ you tease before spitting in your hand and wrapping it around his length slowly starting to stroke him kissing and licking the tip. âif only you knew how wet i get when you wear the helmet jay. itâs almost embarrassingâ you admit before taking the head of his cock in your mouth looking up at him.Â
âdoll you canât just fuckkkkâ he groans his gloved hand making its way into your hair.Â
you take him into your mouth all the way gagging on the length. he slowly starts to fuck your mouth, the thrust not rushed but perfectly timed hitting the back of your throat as you slobber around him. you bring your free hand up to play with his balls and thatâs when his thrust pick up. âi needed this dollâ he grunts as his thrusts begin to falter a little. the tears in your eyes made him go harder. âlook at you doing so good for meâ
after a few more strokes and thrusts his cum is hitting the back of your throat and youâre happily swallowing it with a smile on your face, mascara running a bit.Â
âweâre definitely doing this againâ you smile up at him kissing the tip
a/n: i got sick yâall and thatâs my downfall for working with kidsđ enjoy this little piece as i continue to catch up. iâve been typing everything in my notes so thatâs why its lowercase
đ
dick was moving into his new apartment in bludhaven when a little bit of weight ran into his legs and giggles followed. he looked down to see a little boy looking up at him.Â
âsorry misterâ the little boy gave him a toothy grin. dick couldnât help but chuckle.Â
âno worries buddy. whereâs your mom at?â he asks the kid. the kid points to the door next to dickâs apartment and an angel (in his eyes) walks out.Â
âhoney you were supposed to wait for me. iâm so sorry if he ran into youâ you apologize wiping your hands with the dish towel you had.Â
ânothing to worry aboutâ dick smiled, ignoring how his heart skipped a beat.  you introduce yourself extending your hand for him to shake. he eagerly shook your hand back and offered his services if you were to ever need them after finding out youâre a single mom. you sweetly smiled thanking him for that. thatâs when he knew he was going to have it bad.Â
over the next few months, he has babysat for you when he could tell you were overwhelmed, you cooked and baked for him as a thanks or just because, and there was movie nights prior to your sonâs bedtime because he absolutely adored dick. then you found out his secret identity one night when you heard him stumbling around in his apartment a lot on a night you couldnât sleep well. you put on your slippers rushing over in your pajamas, using the spare key he gave you.Â
âdick are you okay?â you call into his apartment. when you look around thatâs when your eyes met, he stood in the kitchen. nightwing suit still on, heâs clutching his rib cage. âdo you need help sweetheart?â your voice soft, almost like the one you fumes for your son. he could only nod, not caring that you stood in his apartment seeing the side he hasnât told you about. âsitâ you guide him to one of his bar stools. you carefully help him get the top half of his suit off. no questions were asked when you saw the scars on him. you grabbed the first aid kit and cleaned him up without saying a word, the silence was comfortable. yours hands were soft and soothing. cleaning any cuts he had, icing his ribs for him. âat least theyâre only bruisedâ you mumble softly. you slowly peel his mask from his face grabbing a damp cloth to wipe the sweat from his forehead and pushing his hair away from his face putting it an a tiny bun.Â
âyouâre good at thisâ he mumbles wrapping his arms around your waist to hug you. burying his face against your shoulder. you softly hum in response rubbing his back gently.Â
âyour secret is safe with me you knowâ your reassurance meaning the world to him. he tilts his head up to meet your eyes. one of his hands moves to your face pulling you down bringing you nose to nose.Â
âcan i kiss you?â he whispers against your lips. the moment you nod he crashes his lips softly into yours. you melt into the kiss hand tangling itself in his hair. he pulled you flush against him, biting your lip playfully pulling away. âiâve been wanting to do that everyday since we metâ he admits against your lips.Â
âsince we met?â you question.Â
âi knew i wouldnât mind being a step dad in that momentâ he teased.Â
âdick!â your laughter filled the room as you smack his shoulder playfully. âoh i have to get back. i left him over there to come check on youâ you start pulling away. but he stands with you.Â
âiâll come with youâ he says standing up. âi want to stay by my nurseâ he grins.Â
âcome onâ you roll your eyes playfully letting him go change. when he finished he took your hand dragging you back to your apartment. after checking on your son the two of you slipped into your bed. his face buried in your chest, you playing with his hair.Â
âyou smell goodâ he murmurs against you. âlike i just want to take a bite of youâ his teeth graze the swell of your breasts.Â
âdickâ you look at him with desire, the look in your eyes makes him groan.Â
âyes pretty mama?â he grins as his hands explore your waist slipping under the top youâre wearing to bed. âi just want to thank you properly for taking care of meâ you screwed yourself by looking into those brilliant blue eyes giving you a pleading look.
âsweetheart youâre injuredâ you try to reason.Â
âmm i donât care. i need you. feel the need to devour youâ he placed tiny nips to your exposed chest.Â
âokay but are you sure?â your question basically fell on deaf ears.Â
âiâve never been more sure of anythingâ he claims as he slid your shirt off of you appreciating the sight. âfuck, this is better than a wet dreamâ he grins âbeen dreaming of this for monthsâ his hands slide down to remove your pajama bottoms and underwear in one swift motion. âhow about it mama? can i get a taste?â he asked before capturing your lips, releasing a satisfied hum  as he tasted them. tongue slipping between your parted lips, not even bothering to fight for dominance.Â
his hands explore your body one slipping between your thighs finding your soaked core. to be fair, youâve also been waiting for months for him. however, itâs been longer since a man has touched you this way. âall this for me?â he smirks as feels your arousal. âiâm touched pretty mamaâ he chuckles as he pumps his fingers in and out curling them perfectly hitting that spot just right as his thumb played with your clit. your sounds were like music to his ears but he did have to swallow those sounds with a kiss. âquiet mama we donât want wake our boy upâ kissing you once more, you clenched around his fingers at his words, that werenât even supposed to be sexual, but the fact that this man wants to be a dad to your son was hot to you, to the point the heat spread through your body.Â
âyouâre getting close arenât you mama? the way youâre clenching down on my fingers i can tell. go ahead and cum for meâ he groans grinding into the mattress. âi canât wait to feel you around me.â coming undone around his fingers was only the beginning. when he pulled his fingers from you, the noise of complaint and loss you made had him feeling on top of the world in that moment. finally getting the girl heâs been dreaming about. âyou gonna let me put it in pretty?â he asks freeing himself from his pants rubbing it along your arousal.Â
âpleaseâ the soft plea fell from your lips quickly.Â
âmm i might just have to make you a mama again with how pretty you soundâ he groans as he sinks into you.Â
this is when you knew, dick grayson was far from just your charming neighbor, your local vigilante, he was about to be a constant in your life and you arenât complaining, just moaning.Â
youâve been real irritable lately, you hid it well until you couldnât. your kids could see your exhaustion and so could bruce. it took a some small comment from him to make you snap.Â
âif i was actually going to listen to a man who dresses up as a bat every night to let out his anger, iâd become one of the roguesâ you practically growled at bruce before walking out the kitchen. the kids stood around mouth open in shock at the scene.Â
âis mom/ma/ummi okay?â they asked in unison using whatever variation of mom they call you. bruceâs eyes darkened the moment you stormed out the kitchen. however, he controlled the expression before glancing at his kids.Â
âshe will be. iâm going to go speak with her.â he nods stiffly before heading out the kitchen. he heads towards your room, because you have your own space for when you get in a mood like this. he knocks on the door.Â
âgo awayâ you answered from your spot on the bed.Â
âitâs funny you think you have a choice darling. open the doorâ he replied gruffly. you roll your eyes getting up to open the door, looking up at your husband his blue eyes looking like a raging storm.Â
âwhat do you want?â you didnât get a verbal answer at first, just an irritated look.Â
âi want whatever this bratty attitude is to stopâ he walks into the room shutting the door. âget on the bedâ he sees the defiant spark in your eyes, one quick and hard swat to your ass. ânow.â you walked over to your bed sitting on the edge. âiâd fuck the attitude out of you. but you donât deserve thatâ he unties his tie making you lay back as he undoes his tie. âlay on your stomachâÂ
you donât hesitate to follow orders. you couldnât resist the commanding tone he had. he ties your hands to the headboard with his tie before pulling your pajama pants and underwear down in one swift movement.Â
âyouâre going to count and once youâre dripping. iâm going to leave you here tied up and youâre not allowed to touch yourself until i get home. understood?â he grips your chin making you look at him.Â
âyes sirâ you respond softly your voice lacking the bite you had in it moments ago.Â
ânot so feisty anymore? you were incredibly mean to me darling. when has that ever been acceptable?â his breath against your ear.Â
ânever sirâ you replied. he nods letting go of your chin.Â
âyouâre getting 20 and thatâs me being generousâ the first smack to your ass followed, echoing off the walls in the room.Â
âoneâŚtwoâŚ. threeâŚfourâŚ.fiveâ the first five done, you bit your lip to prevent the guttural moans that weâre fighting their way to the surface.  his thumb roughly removed your lip from between your teeth before continuing the next series of spankings. âsixâŚseven⌠eight⌠nineâŚ. tenâŚelevenâŚt-twelveâ he stopped when you stuttered slightly running his rough padded fingers along your slit spreading your arousal. âthirteenâŚfourteenâŚfifteenâŚsixteenâŚ.s-s-seventeenâ seventeen had you scream into your pillow, you know the last three heâs going to make count. you feel like youâre on the edge but you know he isnât going to let up. âeighteenâŚnineteenâŚtwenty!â the twentieth spank was straight on your soaked pussy, and it wasnât a soft one.Â
âgood girl. now have fun sitting here. i have meetings.â he kisses your forehead leaving your room with a satisfied grin on his face. heâll give you what you really need later. but, youâre gonna learn your lesson and go untouched for the next couple hours. despite how tempting you looked, bratty behavior deserves a punishment.Â
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âi bet you wish this was you donât you pads?â remusâ eyes met the silver eyes of your shared lover who was in the âtime outâ chair in the corner of the room. you were face down with your back arched as remus fucked you within the edge of your life. your moans and siriusâ grumbles of âhow unfair this isâ filled the bedroom. your eyes didnât leave siriusâ either until remus decided to flip you over. âyou donât get to look at him anymore dove. focus on me onlyâÂ
âmoony you arenât being fairâ sirius complained his tone whiny.Â
âwhatâs not fair is you not eating the breakfast our pretty dove made for you. she worked hard to make sure we had a meal before heading out and you didnât touch itâ remus locked eyes with sirius, his gaze glancing down to you. âhowâd that make you feel dove?â the question paused your train of thought.Â
âi was sad about itâ you answered before remus could thrust again drawing a moan out of you.Â
âyou hear that pads? you made her sadâ remus growls at sirius. they both take your feelings seriously. however sirius didnât think remus would go a bit feral over him skipping breakfast.Â
ârem pleaseâ you whine getting his attention.Â
âwhat is it dove?â he asks sweetly, though his pace is still brutal.Â
âfocus on me. donât talk to himâ you softly commanded. you were never one to make commands but when you did your boys loved it.Â
âas you wish doveâ remus captures your lips in a heated kiss feeling you clench around him as his hands wander your body.
âthatâs not fair loveâ sirius groaned at the same time.Â
âyou shouldâve ate your breakfast siriusâ you grin breaking away from the kiss. sirius couldnât help but come undone at you saying his name. heâs a weak man when it comes to you and he promises never to skip a meal again⌠or he might just to watch his lovers torture him for his bad behavior.Â
a/n: i know iâm hella behind but iâm catching up by saturday i swear đ¤
college au!
warnings: 18+ mdni, virginity loss, oral (f!receiving), piv unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), idk any more of the top of my head
â¤ď¸âđĽ
you and sukuna? on no oneâs bingo card this year. you were the resident sweetheart, volunteering at animal shelters or childrenâs hospitals on the weekend. he, was the one partying (despite his distaste for people) and participating in slightly shady activities. when toji brought you to their place for the first time; since you were friends. which is another relationship no one understood. you stood there in the boys kitchen, wearing a little dress and cardigan holding a few trays of baked goods for the party later.  however, you werenât staying, toji just told them parties arenât your thing as he stole a cookie you made.Â
sukuna grabbed a brownie you made, and practically moaned at the taste. he grabbed toji by the shirt demanding to know your name. the bastard smirked in his face, and told him he wouldnât tell. shoving his friend away he does what a normal person would do and follows you out the door not too far behind you.Â
âexcuse me!â he calls out as your heading to your car. you stop turning to look up at him as he halts in front of you.Â
âhi, youâre one of tojiâs friends right?â your voice was sweet and polite. you had such an approachable stance along with a warm smile.Â
âyeah, iâm sukuna. ryomen sukuna. i respond to eitherâ he answered slightly stumbling over his words. if the boys saw him now they would fuck with him for it. you offered your hand for him to shake as you shared your name with him. the way he tested it sounded like honey dripping from his tongue. âthose brownies were killer. you bake all the time?â he asked, the confidence back in his voice.Â
âyes i doâ you beamed. âiâm glad you liked the browniesâ your smile was something he wanted to see directed towards him everyday. he asked for your number and you gave it to him with a smile.Â
you didnât expect him to text you the way he does, it wasnât just brief conversations. you would text all day, heâd even call you at random times, just to hear your voice or at night until the two of you fell asleep. the more he learned about you he was made aware of how innocent you were. itâs something he learned when he started taking you on dates. toji was baffled when he found out you were the girl sukuna was going on a date with, he even called you to make sure sukuna wasnât delusional, when you confirmed he wasnât toji was about to go protective mode but heard how happy you sounded about it and let it go.Â
sukuna went all out for this date, the prettiest bouquet that reminded him of you. a picnic at the park with a beautiful lake that you mentioned one time over a call. your favorite food and dessert. you absolutely melted. he took a picture of you with the bouquet at sunset in front of the lake; itâs his lock screen now.Â
 but something that was on the edge of his mind as ruining you in the best ways possible. how could he not want to? that sweet smile of yours whenever you greeted or thanked him for everything. the way you shyly reacted every time his kisses deepened. how you slid your hand into his while walking or when just spending time together. you get shy whenever heâs shirtless around you. the way you get needy when you wear his shirts to bed because you love the way he smells. at this point itâs not about the fact you were a virgin, no. yes itâs special to him that you trust him to be the first and he hopes only. itâs when you started asking your innocent questions about what he likes. looking up at him as you laid on his chest maintaining eye contact with that curious look in your eyes that you got when learning something new.Â
âyou want me to teach you?â he asked, his tone gruff, to cover that he was in shock. you nod eagerly.Â
âplease ryoâ and that fucking smile did it for him, along with the nickname only you could call him. he agreed, and when you asked for your first lesson to be right now you ended up in your current situation. legs thrown over his shoulders, your hands in his hair tugging it.Â
âtug harder princessâ he instructs before shoving his tongue in you. his nose rubbed against your clit in all the right ways. his fingertips bruising your thighs. you tugged harder, he groans against your soaked folds as he ruts into the mattress. doing his absolute best not to take you right now. he wanted you to be able to have a good experience. besides this was only lesson one. he ate your pussy like he had something to prove. setting a standard that sent a clear message âthis is mineâ. he sent that message by placing a sweet kiss to your abused clit after you just drenched him from mouth to chin with your orgasm.Â
your second lesson, was a day you were sitting in his lap just wearing his shirt and a cute pair of panties when you were over at his place. while he was playing the game you couldnât help but fidget in order to get comfortable. he handed you the controller instructing you on how to play the game as his hands explored beneath the shirt you wore, playing with your breasts and pinching your nipples. the noises you make fill his room over the sound of the game. his hands trailed down slipping into your panties only to find youâre dripping wet.Â
âall this after playing with your pretty tits princess? this is a fucking rewardâ he groans in your ear, his arousal making itself apparent pressing against your ass. he works two fingers into you as his calloused palm is pressed against your clit applying the right amount of pressure to get you to squirm. and squirm you did.Â
âthatâs it. thatâs my girl. go ahead and soak my fingers princess.â his tone never lacks the gruffness of it but the undertone still soft as ever as he nips your earlobe and peppering your neck with kisses. when you cum on his fingers due to the curling of his expert fingers he almost nuts in his pants. the sounds you make when he brings you to an orgasm is something he needs it recorded to put on a repeated playlist.
âcan i taste it?â you asked quietly after you came on his fingers. he short circuited momentarily before sliding his fingers out of you to hold them to your parted lips. you wrapped your lips around his finger making unintentional lewd eye contact with him. sukuna thought he was about to lose it.Â
your third lesson, you asked him oh so sweetly to have sex with you. what made him go crazy was when you requested he do it without a condom. âi would like to feel youâ you said innocently, though the action he is about to take is in no way innocent. he agrees eagerly, yes. it started with a heated makeout, youâre finally comfortable with this type of kiss, and he couldnât be happier as he smirked into the kiss priding himself in the way he taught you to kiss. pinned beneath him, the way youâre up at him with lust evident in your mesmerizing eyes. no part of your body was untouched his hands explored you, his mouth explored you.Â
âyou can leave marks if you wantâ when those words left your lips and reached his ears, he practically whined. his teeth began nipping at your skin, kissing his way back up to your neck he made sure to leave a few visible strategically placed love bites, leaving the rest for below the collarbone. kissing his way back down your body he slipped his fingers into you with ease. your arousal from all the attention already soaking the sheet beneath you.Â
âfeel that princess?â he questions grinning lazily leaning against your thigh, eyes flickering between your eyes that beg for more and the way his fingers are disappearing between your folds. âyou sure youâre ready for me?â working a third finger in you making you whine and moan; he knows two wasnât going to be enough to get you ready.Â
âplease ryo. i want youâ he buries his face into your pussy, giving your clit all the attention it deserved as his fingers curled within you, the rough padding of his fingers brushing your g-spot sending intense waves of pleased through your body.Â
âi can feel youâre close princess. cum on my fingers and iâll give you what you wantâ he rasps giving your thigh a nip. you cum on his fingers and he keeps going until the wave of pleasure surging through you subsides for a brief moment before positioning himself between your legs. dragging his cock up and down your slick folds. âare you absolutely sure baby?â the gruff voice with the undertone of sincerity made your heart flutter.Â
âiâm sure ryoâ you nod with a small grin. he lines up with your entrance slowly pushing in, your face contorts in pleasure at each once he pushes in. once heâs buried in you he gives you a silent nod letting you adjust to his size. âplease start movingâ you plea in a soft tone, that almost made him come undone before starting. his thrusts started at a slow and even pace to get you accustomed to him, his fingers intertwined themselves with yours holding your hand delicately during this moment. you gave his hands two soft squeezes. âyou can go faster ryoâ and if only you knew how innocent but filthy you sounded. his thrusts picked up the pace, you sounded so unsure of your moans until he encouraged you.Â
âgo ahead princess. i want to hear you, every sound i get you to make. let me hear youâ he cups your face giving you kisses in between his words. every thrust was meant with one of your pretty moans, the way your walls clenched around him felt glorious making his thrusts stutter. Â
âryooooâ your drawn out breathless moan of his name caused his thrust to pause.Â
âbaby, iâm trying to hold outâ he groans looking into your eyes, before he continues thrusting into you.Â
âiâm close ryoâ you whine throwing your head back into the pillow.Â
âgo ahead, make a mess on my cock.â as his thrusts sped up, your walls clenched down around him. your back arched, your nipples brush against his chest as he wraps an arm around your waist pulling you closer to him. bliss washes over you, your moan probably heard from outside the room. he buried his face in your neck groaning as he finished in you. staying in you for a moment before pulling out slowly when heâs softened makes you whimper a little at the emptiness. he rolls onto his back bringing you with him to rest you against his chest.Â
âthank you ryoâ you kiss his chest looking up at him.Â
âanything for you babyâ he kissed the top of your head lovingly. after moments of comfortable silence you broke it.Â
âso when do we get into the fucking?â you ask innocently making him bark out a laugh.Â