Hello and welcome.β€
I'd consider myself an old school otaku... lol
I read Manga, Manhwa, and Manhuas, and enjoy anime of various kinds. I've only recently taken up writing fanfics, and mostly write snu because β¦ that's what I feel like doing. π€
HOWEVER: I've decided to add some SFW works also. I want minors to feel safe coming to my page to read, so I'll mark any NSFW stuff I post that doesn't have a banner as "Mature" going forward.
Requests/Asks:
I am more than happy to take them. π But please be mindful of the level of pressure applied to your requests, as I am a mom and have a child that takes up all of my time. lol (that can explain why it takes a while for me to complete chapters). I honestly am not exactly sure how this process works, though I've been here for nearly a year... I suppose I can share my parameters. Here are my rules:
Tumbler M.List | AO3 | Wattpad | Spotify | All My Fics
Completed Works (all NSFW):
Line Of Sight - Satoru G.
To Deserve You. - Choso K.
The Sweetest Beat - Megumi F.
A Hunter's Interest - Jinwoo S.
Bartender Dabi - Touya(Dabi) T.
Baby, Can I Use Your Car? - (SMAU)
Main Works In Progress:
Line Of Sight - Ch.02
To Deserve You - Ch.04
A Hunter's Interest - Ch.02
The Sweetest Beat - Set 7
π€Please feel free to block me if my content is not your cuppa tea.
π€ Please enjoy your reads! And please like and reblog. ;)
π€ NOTE: All characters depicted on my blog + fics are 21+!
Note: please block me if my work is not your cup-o-tea.
I do not own any of the character art.
Please respect my blog art.
Reader is encouraged to listen to music mentioned for context :)
WC : 20K!
Wanna take it from the top? Start at Set 1πΆ;)
<<The Sweetest Beat - Set 6
The Sweetest Beat - Set 7 (Pt.2)
The Sweetest Beat - Set 8 >> Coming Soon :)
TSB - Masterlist ~ AO3 | Wattpad | Playlist
Synopsis: Megumi Fushiguro is the leader of a fresh new rock band. They're currently playing covers and gaining a following at an alarming rate, skyrocketing his career as an indie artist. But when his best friend introduces him to a beautiful someone and sparks fly, he's challenged to navigate her fear of loving freely.
..... Minors: You have no business here. Love you, but please don't ....
βΆSET 7
Crazy β Gnarls Barkley
After Dark β Mr. Kitty
The Rain Song β Led Zepplin
Into the Blue β Galleaux
Frozen β Sabrina Claudio
Whale and Wasp β Alice in Chains
Paranoia Purple (Live at Electric Lady) β Yebba
Wild Horses β The Sundays
Stay the Night β The Internet
Middle of the Night β Elley Duhe
Sweet Tea β Snoh Alegra
How to Disappear Completely β Radiohead
Nude β Radiohead
Shape of My Heart β Sting
βWait... What?β you squinted, shaking your head as if something that made no sense at all was inside and you wanted it gone. βYouΒ know him?β
βYeah... but... how do you?β Megumi replied, as
Crazy β Gnarls Barkley
played from the stage.
You scoffed, closing the small gap between you. βHe works with me.β
βSince when?β He frowned.
βSince like... a week ago? My manager brought him in to help out. Iβd never seen him before then.β
Your eyes darted to each part of your manβs face, wishing you could jump inside his brain to find out what exactly It was he was thinking... or feeling. βWere you friends or something?β
Megumi peered over at Yuji who was serving Sukuna another drink, as apparently the one you just saw in his hand was already gone.
His gaze then drifted toward Choso, who stood on stage looking equally puzzled, the left side of his face grimacing as he held out his hands and a βWhat the fuck?β mouthed from his lips.
βFriends? No. He was the lead in a rival band back in college, and one of the reasons we were more than happy to move back home.β
He huffed, rolling his eyes, his normal I-donβt-give-a-fuck expression cracked by his frustration, yet, as always, he still managed to keep his cool. βBut... even if he is working with you, I still donβt get what the heβs doingΒ here?β
The longer Megumiβs confused expression lingered, the more frustrated you got that his night could be ruined by this random and obviously unwelcomeguest.
And just then, something dawned on you.
Sukuna had been sitting at your desk for quite a while that night with your flash drive poking out of your computer before you showed up at work. You immediately winced at the conclusion you drew. βNah, no way he did that.β
Megumiβs head swiveled to face you, βDid what?β he asked, his pretty blues scanning your dumbfounded face as you realized youβd said that out loud.
You hesitated, wheels still turning in an attempt to make sense of it all. βHe was at my work desk... rummaging through my computer the night we rehearsed at your studio.β
You glared over toward Sukuna and the ridiculous smirk he had plastered on his face as he leaned casually, confidently against the bar.
Megumi scoffed, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes again, finishing the rest of his second beer. βYeap, sounds about right.β He raised his hand to get Itadoriβs attention.
βWhat βsounds about rightβ?β you questioned, your frown growing deeper the more anxious this situation made you.
βSukunaβs a fucking asshole.β His brows pressed into his forehead, yet his lips remained tight as he began his explanation. βHe gave us hell throughout campus and elsewhere, talking shit about our band, following us around to every event and competition, working overtime to give us a bad name.β
He quickly glared toward Sukunaβs smug face, then turned back to rake his gaze over you again as his wheels turned.Β
Megumi was always quick on the uptake, that big brain of his rivaling every other part of his greatness as he put two and two together with an abundance of speed.Β
Your work. ... Your computer. ...Your face, your voice. ... Youβ¦
Currently in what some would consider to be Megumiβs βpossessionβ. Especially after tonight.
And now that Sukuna knows that, well, it doesnβt take rocket science to determine what that would mean for the three of you if he wanted nothing more than to be the bane of Megumiβs existence.Β
And a woman like you, looks aside, after what heβd seen of you at this show, Heβd perceive you to be no less than the perfect vessel for his malice.
Even if the end result was for him to have you to himself.
You remained glued to Megumiβs side, your eyes fixed on his face, the inner corners of your brows turned up as you waited to hear what heβd say next.
After all that had passed through his mind like a shock-wave, his gaze simply softened before resting back at yours, his lips manifesting a single request with a subtle upward nod.
βTake a shot with me.β
Yuji handed Megumi two shot glasses of Yamazaki, having overheard your conversation. βUnfortunately, his band is just as badass as he is an asshole.β He whined, as he poured a third for himself.
Megz continued. βHis presence here wonβt be anything less than hell. Iβm sure heβs only here to start more shit.β
You puckered your lips, taking the shot from Megzβs hand.
Of course they finished first as you allowed it to submerge your tongue and fill your senses on the way down. You grimaced as the heat gathered in your throat and you set the glass back down on the bar.
Yuji stacked them, taking them behind the bar as he leaned in to talk to Nobara.
βWhat do you think he could possibly be up to this time?β you questioned. βI mean,Β specifically.Β You guys are already practically established here. What could he do to change that?β
The concern on your face was more than enough to soften even Megumiβs heart. So innocent. So considerate. So cute.
So... naive.
Perhaps it was a good thing that the obvious didnβt cross your mind for Megumiβs sake. Considering especially as he looked at you, he would be the one with the most to lose should anything be done βto change thatβ.
Your emo boy flashed a sneak of a smile as everything in him wanted nothing more in this moment than to lock you up, chain you down, and keep you safe.Β
From everyone except himself, of course.
His lids rested over his contemplative eyes as he let how cute you were stir up his anxiety to get you out of here.
βWho knows?β Megumi answered, breaking his never-ending train of thought with raised brows, lips turned up in the corners and exhaustion already gracing his face, though nothing has really happened yet. βBut whatever it is, itβll probably be fucked up.β
You huffed, βI canβt believe he went through my shit like that.β You shook your head in disbelief, especially at the fact that heβd do something like that so blatantly in front of Geto. You wondered how close they were. βI gotta report him.β
βBe careful.β Megumi warned quickly, peeking at you out the corner of his eye, watching the wheels in your brain turn right in front of him.
βWhat? Why?β
He shrugged, βIf he went that far, heβll do moreβ. Megumiβs demeanor was characteristically calm, considering the implications of his accusation. βI havenβt dealt with him in a while, but I know he can be pretty relentless.β he spoke with a hint of genuine worry in his voice that you could recognize even in this crowd.
βWell, if thatβs the case, I donβt wanna waste any more time thinking about it now...β You stood in front of your lover, between his propped up legs, removing his third beer from his hand as you pulled his arms to drape them around your waist.Β
βItβs your birthday.β you tilted your head, βDonβt you want your present?β
Megumiβs lids lowered slowly as his sights dropped to rest at your chest, lowering more as they cascaded further, tracing the curves of your hips as he allowed the affects of the alcohol to woo him into a chill daze, not remotely replacing the one your presence had on him.
He was finally drunk, but not blind.
With his face still angled in the direction of your thighs, his eyes lifted first to meet your gaze as he murmured, devoid of a smile, βThereβs more?β with a hike in his brow.
βYeah. Thereβs more.β
He stood to hover, his shadow nearly swallowing you whole as he leaned into your ear. βIβm gonna ruin you for anyone else.β
It was hard to hide the deep blush forming beneath the shimmery highlights on your cheeks as you quickly glanced around, checking for prying eyes.
There were a few, but even a million couldnβt stop you from indulging in this moment. Your tongue pulled your bottom lip behind your teeth as your eyes met his, that pout still on his lips as his gaze darkened at the sight of your adorable face.
βFeeling possessive birthday boy?β you gripped his tee in each of your hands at his sides as he leaned into you to inhale you again, his jet-black strands tickling your neck. βJust so you know,β you droned, βThatβs a done mother-fuckingΒ deal.β
βMegz!β Nobara yelled from near the front where she and Yuji waited with Tsumiki, giving a sideways nod for the two of you to get lost with them before the crowd made an attempt to follow.
Megumiβs eyes were attached to your neck, your supple skin exposed under your glistening necklace, sparkling with that pretty oil he could smell on you, all of the above making him far more than merely excited to get you wherever you were going next, and quickly.
Mr. Kitty β After Dark
played from the stage as another set of Inoβs friends followed up with a few crowd favorites, allowing you the time you needed to escape, at least a little unnoticed as Toge and Choso hung back a bit to keep them entertained.
Your hands pulled the fabric of his top as he leaned into you even more, βtipsyβ describing him fully in this moment, keeping his warm body close as you led him toward the door.
Youβd gotten maybe five steps as yet another large body hindered your ability to go any further.
βSo youβre not even gonna speak?β
Your smile faded immediately at the sight of him. Sukuna. His full, relatively intimidating frame towering over you.
βNot much to say... Weβre on our way out.β You murmured, bluntly.
He stood, swirling his lowball, with a quite pungent iced drink inside that only halfway hid the shady ass smirk on his face.
βThatβs all well and good but uh...β an upward nod, βIβm talkinβ to your friend.β his smile grew wider as he tipped his glass into his mouth, eyeballing Megumi.
βTch.β Megumi huffed, pressing his body into yours, his chest warm against your shoulder blades. His left hand softly gripped your left arm, sliding down as his fingers curled around until they reached your hand where he threaded them between yours.
His right hand curved around your waist. βShe spoke for both of us.β He practically hissed, eyes half lidded. βSumtβn you need?β
Weird he was able to drink at all with the corner of his lips curved up like that, his gaze never leaving Megumiβs. His glass turned down slowly before he swallowed, βOh I think Iβm fully capable of gettingΒ thatΒ regardless.β
You rolled your eyes hard, filling your lungs with air as you sighed even harder. βLets go Megz.β you replied as you pushed past Sukuna, dragging your emo boy along.
Megumi knew it was gonna be a serious problem if you, of all people, were in the middle of whatever Sukuna was up to. Heβs at your job, now here.
He knew he could practically count the seconds it would take for his bullshit to be revealed, whatever form in came in.
But never mind that.
You were leaving with Megumi.
And thatβs all that mattered...
*~*~*~*~*
You arrived at Megumiβs place before anyone else, as your bestie had arranged for you to have an Uber get you there safely.
Excitement engulfed you as you scanned the quiet, darkΒ atmosphere, despite the subtle chill brushing across your skin. It was a little cold as it often was, the consistent excuse you used to constantly wrap your body around him whenever you came to visit.
It was easy to see the reason he loved having you around. Your warmth brought the kind of life to his space that simply didnβt exist unless youβre there. You or Tsumiki, of course.
At this moment, the only light that shone in the apartment glowed through the tall windows from the streets outside, which was now dusted with white from snowflakes fluttering quietly to the ground.
Megumi closed the door behind you with a soft click as you wandered in, the jingling sound of him dropping his keys in his deep pocket was just about the only thing you heard as he walked past you toward the couch.
You were both quite intoxicated, eyes small, the room spinning ever so slightly, but somehow completely tolerable since you were safe and sound.
Reflections of the nightβs events flashed in your mind, adoration sparkling in your eyes all over again as you called out to him, your voice piercing softly through the quiet of his space.
βHey.β
He turned your direction, brows raised, glassy, lidded eyes meeting yours with curiosity, that dark gaze somehow even sexier right now, the shadows in this wide open room complementing his dark features, making your heart skip as always.
βI have something for you.β You murmured, nervous, yet excited to present it as your heart fluttered in time with the falling snow.
βYouβve given me too much already.β He replied, his voice soft and slightly raspy, yet somehow still didnβt fail to display the adulation that floated on its frequency, despite the rejection.Β
βYou think so?β You frowned, whining. βI like giving you things.β You mumbled as your hand disappeared into your bag.
He took a few steps back, his calves reaching the couch before he plopped down lazily, sinking his torso against the back, and lifting a leg to rest his foot against the table in front of it.
You plopped down on his left side, crossing your left leg toward him as you placed a small package in his palm.
βItβs um... just a little something I thought youβd like.β You presented it as you shyly hid your lips in your mouth, resting the side of your head on the back of the couch.
He observed your expression through his tipsy gaze, your timidity and the soft glint behind your eyes, warming his heart enough to ignite a fierce spark.
He received your gift reluctantly, cutting his eyes toward you as he opened the small black paper bag that shrouded the package, pulling out a container made of stained wood with a tiny hinge on the lid. It was covered with black roses that appeared to be lightly etched in.
You smiled nervously, pressing your shoulder into the back of the couch. βDo you remember that one song you played the night we met?β
βPlayed a lot of songs that night.β He replied.
βA lot of perfect ones.β You retorted.
He smirked, looking down at the βHeart Shaped Box.β His softened gaze rested on the object in his hand before meeting yours again, βOf course I remember, silly.β
You pursed your lips as you continued. βWell... since then... I think... youβve always had mine. My heart, I mean.β
You couldnβt pinpoint why, after all this time, it still felt difficult to tell him how you feel, as whatever the hindrance was still haunted your heart. βI uhm... the box was too plain. I etched the design in.β
He observed it again, astonished.Β
The tiny roses, thorns, and leaves meticulously designed in the etching was stunning, the notion that it was done by hand forcing a wrinkle in his brow.Β Was there no end to your talent?Β He thought, a huff escaping his nostrils behind a faint smile.
βYou did this?β
You shrugged a coy shoulder, βOpen it.β
He pressed his thumb against the flattened side of the heart shaped box to lift the lid.Β On the inside, which had a black fabric lining, was what appeared to be a black bracelet.
It was genuine leather, braided, and sturdy, but thin enough to not weigh him down. In the center of the bracelet was a small, round, black crystal.
He tilted his head as he hooked a finger through it, lifting it from the case, sliding his thumb across the braiding. The texture felt good on his skin. βSβnice.β
βNow, look inside.β You grabbed the remote from the table, clicking on the light, dimming it in response to his retreat from the sudden harsh glare from the ceiling.
He met your gaze, confused. βInside?β
Another nod, βLook inside the crystalβ.
He squinted, at the thing, and first glance, it appeared that what you said didnβt make much sense. But he lifted it, bringing it closer to his eyes.Β
βAllow a little light to shine through.β
He followed your request, lifting it higher, passing light through it. The inside revealed a photo of you. An image that he recalled from the very first night heβd met you.
It was a shot of you sitting, leaning back at the bar, in the very outfit and hairstyle youβd worn as your head tilted back and your eyes looked directly into the camera.
Your lips were slightly puckered over the stunning curve of your neck, and theΒ affect of the light from behind the crystal perfectly complemented your natural glow.
That look in your eyes, the one that had already been etched into his memory from that night as he stood at the bar, the moment he realized you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen was right there, vividly preserved.
And he could see it again any time he wanted.
His heart skipped a beat at the sight, then pulsed again like a thousand drums.
He stared into it a few moments, waiting for his heart rate to calm before he blinked slowly, turning back to glance at your face. Your beautiful anticipatory smile shining back at him.
βWhat do you think?β
That disappearing smirk flashed again, βNo more gifts.β as he turned toward you.
He leaned in, the bracelet slipping around his palm as his calloused drummer hand cupped your face and his fingers curled around to your nape.
His thumb lightly brushed your chin and across your neck, βItβs my turn to give stuff to you.β
You huffed, clicking the light back off to restore the darker, more comfortable mood as you frowned, βNo way, rock-star. Itβs your birthday.β
You turned on his system,
Led Zepplin β The Rain Song
playing softly in the background.
βI donβt care.β He purred, his thumb pressing against your chin to turn your head as he buried his face in your neck, inhaling you. His parted lips slid along your pulse point, and then up to your earlobe which vanished between his lips.
The ticklish sensation shrank your shoulder toward your kissed lobe. You giggled as the feeling of him messing with you had your entire body tingling and a shiver trickling down your spine.
βOur people will be here soon.β You complained, as if you wanted him to stop, and his right hand slipped beneath the left shoulder of your jacket.
βWill they?β he breathed into the shell of your ear.
βY-yeah...β You settled into the moment, soaking up his energy as the tingling sensation crept deeper toward your spine and down your leg.Β
Yet you paused, eyes widening, as a light bulb went on in your head. You peeled your neck from his lips, staring at him in shock. βWhat did you do?β
A grin played at his lips as his big sleepy eyes held your gaze. βI told them to get lost.β
Your jaw dropped, βAre you kidding me?β
βTch... I kid you not.β
βMegz!β
He met your words with his lips, swallowing them whole, his hand still wrapped in his bracelet, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. The taste of your tongue sending a tingle straight to his groin, spreading through every limb.
Yet somehow, in the middle of this intimate moment, a flash of a face belonging to none other than Sukuna, appeared in his mind.
His fingers twitched against your skin, his face scrunching into a frown, even as your lips were connected, and your soft, warm mouth parted wider to welcome his eager tongue.
Out of pure instinct, or maybe just reflexive reaction, Megumi nearly broke the kiss behind the image in his head, yet rebelled against his overly intrusive thoughts.
His thumb slid down your throat as his fingers curled around, resting in that familiar and comfortable position which, somehow now, carried a touch more intensity and possessiveness as you shuddered against it.
βYou were... fascinating tonightβ. He spoke, his lips still connected to yours.
You giggled as his lips made yours tingle. βThank you.β you whispered back, the sound of his voice vibrating straight to your core. βAnd you already said that.β
He pulled back a little to take in your smile, pausing a long moment to enjoy it.Β He shook his head slowly, βYou donβt understand. You wereΒ spectacular.β
He rendered you completely timid all over again, complementing your performance. It was the kind of acknowledgment you donβt remember ever receiving from others.
Well, some did say that you were good. But none as professional and supportive as he. His validation meant more to you than your own fatherβs.Β
Not that youβd received much in that area from him.
Calling you to help him with work is one thing. But giving you real credit for your work was a stretch, and usually followed by an insult, or an expectation for you to humble yourself immediately after.
βYouβre special...β Megumi continued, still watching you shrink, your gaze leaving his as he poured it on thicker with a straight face... βand brilliant. And your voice is beautiful. Everyone should hear more.β
You buried your face in his palm as it rested in his hand, only to have him turn it to face his.
βLet me be your drummer.β
β¦ What? β¦
You nearly said that out loud.
Butβ¦ It was a simple statement. Or... question?Β
Regardless, you didnβt think youβd even heard him correctly.
And if you did, you didnβt believe it was feasible.Β
Megumi? Playing forΒ you? No way.Β
You canβt pay him for that. And you didnβt know if heβd even have the time with all of his own work.
Your head began to shake slowly as it tilted to one side, βM β Megz, you donβt have to...β you cut your self off, entertaining the notion that heβs just being nice, offering out of obligation or... βI canβt ask you toβ β you sighed. βI canβt afford toΒ pay youΒ for that kind of...β
βIβm your drummer.β He stated, matter-of-factly. βAnd you didnβt ask. I did.β
Your breath staggered on your inhale, fear welling up in your gut that somehow, someway... you just might disappoint him.
IfΒ he actually did this for you.
He stared at your face for a long while, watching your wheels turning again.
βStop that.β he frowned. βYouβre worthy. Just like any of the rest of us.β
You nodded faintly, embarrassed that youβd done exactly what you were trying to avoid. Again. As far as you were concerned, this man was already larger than life, and it was hard enough to believe you were such a huge part of his.
βI told you, Iβm giving to you now.β He murmured, closing the gap between your face and his lips as he slid them along your jaw.
βI wonβt allow you to neglect my favorite person. Let her have what she deserves.β... He pulled back, your glazed over eyes threatening tears. βAre we clear?β
Your blush swept softly across your cheeks as you nodded again, a tiny smile forcing itβs way through. βCrystal.β
βGood.β Megumi replied, his hand wrapping halfway across your neck as he leaned in to kiss you again. βAnd now that I have your heart,β he squeezed gently, murmuring between kisses, your pulse beating softly against his palm, βIt doesnβt belong to you anymore.β
A warm smile, βThatβs the idea, genius.β you drawled against his lips.
A huff of air ghosted across your face from his nostrils with before he continued, βYeah, but... what about the rest?β his expression melting again into one more serious, his eyes searching and stopping briefly at every beautiful feature on your face, before meeting yours again. βIs that mine, too?β
You lifted your left thigh to relax it across his lap as you turned settling into his space, even closer. βObviously.β you replied, your hand moving to grip his top at his waist as you pulled him closer still.
A whisper leaves him, like a prayer. βThen donβt leave.β
βWhat?β you huffed, βWhy would I leβ?β
βEver.β He interrupted. βDonβt leave... anymore.β
Your heart felt as if it had suddenly expanded, beating against your ribs. You swallowed hard, the haze of the alcohol clouding your mind as you attempted to grasp what you thought he meant.Β
Or... what you thought youΒ heardΒ maybe?
βY βYou mean... you want me t βto...β
βYeah.β
You froze, unable to break your gaze from his. You blinked, or... tried to blink, despite your eyes as wide as a deer in headlights.
It would have been nice to respond.
To sayΒ something...
But it seemed all you could do was breathe.
Your lips moved ever so slightly, as if in an attempt to form words but they wouldnβt come. Especially since you had no idea which ones to release first.
But just for the record, βYou want me toβ¦ stay here?β you clarified.
He nodded. βI canβt...β his eyes left yours for a moment, βuhm...β frowning again as he rationalized.
An uneasiness stirred in him as he raised his hand to swipe his fingers quickly through his jet-black crown, then squinted as he spoke. βI justβ¦ need you here.β
He noted your hesitance, βYou donβt have to answer now.β and rested his head slowly against the back of the couch, then turned his face again toward you.
You fixed your eyes on his pout, wondering if the liquor had gotten to him too much this time. βYouβre too tipsy.β
He sighed, unable to subdue the anxiety that seemed to press into his chest, then laughed at himself and your comment with a subtle huff. βI have two keys on my ring. Whenever you want one, itβs yours.β
It was nearly impossible to imagine. At least for you at the moment.
Is he serious?
ThatΒ serious?
βToo much?β he asked, far more than dead serious, despite the liquid courage.
Your body seemed to implode within itself with a million emotions. Regardless, heβd stolen your breath all over again.
Through the still and quiet, the kind you were used to in his place, the wind whistling softly across his windows as the cold fell from the sky.
The dim moonlight reflected from the snowflakes like sparkles as you drew closer to him, your body temperature opposing that of the outside world.
Your warm breath ghosted across his lips as you planted a soft, lingering kiss. The only sounds in the room were of your lips and beating hearts as you gripped the side of shirt and the kiss deepened.
Megumi relaxed into the plush of the couch, melting into your touch, his hands limp at his sides as you took your kiss.
His darkened gaze floated across the pink of your cheeks heightening his anxiety to have you in this place thatβs filled with your presence far more not than often.
Into the Blue β Galleaux
played softly into the room as you lifted a hand to cup his cheek.
He shuddered as it slid lower, fingertips trickling along the curve of his Adams apple, goosebumps pricking across his skin. His pulse quickened as your tongue slipped deeper into his open mouth.
A soft moan vibrated from your chords against his lips, his eyes rolling back as the feel, taste, and sound of you filled his senses since for the first time tonight, he finally had you all to himself.
Your fingers traveled lower, riding the curves of his chest, brushing lightly across his perked bud from over his shirt, then lower, slipping under the fabric until his obliques constricted against your fingertips.
Pleasing Megumi made your heart ache, and watching him squirm under your controlled touch was enough to drown you in the depths of desire.
Your thumb pressed into his belly, tickling his side until It was his turn to moan, the deep, guttural vibration piercing straight to your core.
His right hand gripped the thick fabric over the edge of the cushion as your soft hands against the taught skin of his defined abdomen sent rushes of excitement through him.
He opened his mouth wider as your fingers reached their destination and you took your time at his leather belt. You pulled the strap over the buckle, anxiety building as the metal clinked loudly in your ears.
You then tugged the fabric around the button on his jeans that enclosed him, pulling it loose, then gripping the zipper to slide it down slowly as its length curved around his now rock hard manhood.
Your hand slipped past the opening, consuming the space between his boxers and his jeans, the heat from his cock warming you even more.
Megumi pressed himself against your hand, another helpless moan leaving his lips, breaking the kiss to beg. βCan I fuck you, please?β he grunted breathily, his blown out pupils burrowing into yours as you slowly groped his impressive length which snaked along his leg from under his pants. βIβve been waiting all night.β
Your palm rested along its wide curve, then smoothly slid against its length as he anxiously watched the movement from over the blue fabric.
βYouβre asking so kindly...β you whispered as a shudder trickled down your spine, and you walls clenched in anticipation.
The chill in the room seemed to have gone completely, eclipsed by the overwhelming heat between you.
βHmphβ¦β he breathed with a fading smirk. βYou wonβt think Iβm so βkindβ in a minute.β
βMmmβ¦ Is that a threat, Fushiguro?β
Megumiβs hand moved from the couch to the curve of your neck to pull you in, closing the small distance filled with your words as he spoke into your lips, βIs that a βyesβ?β
You snickered, βI havenβt decided yetβ¦ Maybe I just wanna play with you.β
βSuch a fucking tease.β he replied through his teeth.
βMaybe I am. But you like it.β You murmured, your hand gently squeezing his length which continued to grow. βAnd I thought you didnβt want anymore gifts?β you said, his free arm rested between your breasts.
βAnd I meant it.β he huffed, bucking into your hand again. βYouβre already mine.β
played as a low growl erupted from his chest, and your soft hand curled around his cock, his heart drumming a solo against his ribs. βFuck.β
You worked to release it from its confines, your eyes widening as they rested on its shiny round head. You tightened your grip a little, his hot muscle sliding through your rounded palm.
Megumi squeezed his eyes shut as he pumped himself through your grip, his parted lips touching yours as he practically whimpered.
βFeel good, baby?β you breathed into his mouth.
βHa~ahβ¦ yeah.β he pumped faster. βStop teasing me...β
You flicked out your tongue, sliding it along his lips, bottom to top, another soft kiss to the bottom. Your thumb traced smoothly along the curve of his glans, capturing the clear fluid that escaped.
He hissed as your soft hand stroked his entire length, precum making the glide smoother. His eyes fluttered shut, hips bucking erratically faster.
His veiny length grew hotter against your palm, your legs pressing together, hips responding as you recalled the feeling of him stretching you with that beautiful tool.
You licked your lips as you left his face, leaning in to his cock, planting an open mouthed kiss to the head, wetting it with a drizzle of your saliva.
Megumiβs eyes flicked open to watch as you kissed it a few more times, teasingly, only the tip, your tongue sliding along his slit.
You hovered, dropping more saliva, pupils blossoming as you watched it drip against your hand and you jerked him off faster.
The wrinkle in his brow deepened and his head fell back against the couch as you wet his throbbing cock.
More liquid seeped from him as you watched his beautiful face with fire in your eyes; red cheeks, parted lips, deep, sensual, broken moans erupting from his chest as he was unable to decide whether to keep his head rested against the couch, or watch you finish him off.
With your free hand, you gripped the hem of his shirt, lifting it to his neck as your eyes took in every curve of his chiseled torso.
He lifted his back from the couch, pulling his top off completely. You leaned in to plant open mouthed kisses on his lower abdomen, and your hand continued to stroke him faster, kisses moving higher up his chest.
You pressed your face into the crook of his neck as your hand worked him toward orgasm and you whispered, βCum for me baby.β
He thrusted even harder, eagerly, heaving sharp breaths through his teeth.
βF-fuck,fuck!!!β he murmured, one hand gripping the life from his cushion, the other slipping between your clenched thighs, fingers grazing your intimacy.
You tightened your grip a little more, stroking a few more times, skin taught around his hard, veiny muscle, until finally he warnedβ¦
βIβm β¦ gonna cum! β¦ a~ah! Cumming!β
His body convulsed, deep groans erupting from his chest as he pumped creamy white into your soft hand.
Your bottom lip disappeared behind your teeth as you smoothed his arousal along his thick length, your lusty gaze resting on his reddened face as you watched him ride out his high.
He cut his glazed over eyes toward you, his mouth hanging open, still hard as he huffed.
βSo fucking hot.β you mumbled, barely above a whisper as you smirked, trembling as your hand slid along his shaft, the look on his face driving you nearly feral.
Whale and Wasp β Alice in Chains
You looked absolutely predatory like that, hovering over him, his cum melting along your hand as you lifted your fingers, slipping one past your lips as you tasted him.
βYouβ¦ fuckingβ¦ gorgeous creature.β He panted, shuddering as his dick twitched at the sight of you, his grip tightening around your inner thigh.
You quickly wiped your hand clean, then straddled him, hinging forward, knees pressing into the couch as you cupped his face with both hands, your lips hovering before pressing softly against his, a deep, passionate kiss.
He lifted his hips from between your legs to remove his pants, pulling them down to rest at his thighs as he used his legs to kick them off completely.
His hands slid up your outer thighs, your bare skin warm against his.
His thumbs hooked under your top as he removed it in one swift motion, your hair cascading in wispy bundles over your face and chest.
His hands glided along the curves of your back as they indulged in the suppleness of your flesh, his right hand curving to rest between your right ass cheek and his thigh, and the other around the line of your back, gripping you at the waist.
He squeezed, hard enough to elicit a moan from your lips as he sucked hot pink blotches into the skin of your supple breasts.
βI want you inside me.β you breathed.
Megumi responded, moving to pull down your panties from under your skirt that now rested like a belt around your hips. His hand was met with yours, as you gently guided it toward your sensitivity.
βYou... can unbutton it from here.β you murmured.
His fingers slid between your legs, following the curve of your intimacy, back, and forth... Back, and forth, gliding along your soft middle, a tiny moan slipping from your lips as they finally located 2 small snaps on the fabric of your panties at your entrance.
His bows pressed into his forehead as he felt where to pull them loose. He flicked his gaze up to yours, and your surprisingly embarrassed expression.
βReally?β he quipped.
Your face reddened as you buried it in his neck.
βTch... shy now?β He drawled, his left hand tightly gripping the back of your hair to pull your head up, forcing you to look into his eyes as he slipped his middle finger around the snap without undoing it, sinking it into your opening with ease as he watched your face contort in pleasure.
His tongue pulled his bottom lip behind his teeth as his thumb moved the buttoned fabric out of the way of his hand for better access.
He slowly thrusted a second finger in and out of your soaked opening, feeling you tighten around them each time.
He leaned into your face, fist still full of your hair, βI told you not to hide that face from me.β he purred, pulling back a little to watch every change in your expression.
Your breaths left your lungs in small pants, βMore...β you begged, as your hips rolled into his hand.
He smirked as you soaked him, his fingers curling inside to reach that sweet spot that always made you fall apart.
You moaned, desperation gripping you as he thrusted them inside, removing them suddenly to detach the snap from your undies, and moved his large hand to grip his throbbing cock.
You lifted your body as he slid the head around your slick against your folds, moistening it with your arousal. It pressed slowly past your entrance, sinking in just past the head, the stretch absolutely delicious.
βNgh!!!β you whimpered, shuddering from the fierce electric current.
He pressed in more, a grin curling into his lips as he felt your walls close around him.
He tightened his grip on your hair, leaning in closer as he pressed his lips into your cheek at the corner of your mouth. βOpen up, babyβ, he purred, as he pressed in even deeper.
βHa-ngh!!!β Your moan was louder this time, velvety walls stretching to accommodate him.
It was music to his ears.
He couldnβt imagine a better sound.
He grunted in response, βLouder.β β¦ he commanded, his cock throbbing from the sound.
He sank deeper⦠bottoming out and resting there, offering you a moment to adjust before pulling back, only to see tears prick at your eyes as they rolled back over your quivering lips.
βSo fucking perfect.β he murmured, deeply satisfied with your beautiful expression.
You trembled as you tried to move, his length reaching places inside that you never could, and your body already responded, threatening a fierce release.
You pushed yourself up by your thighs, pulling him out just a little, the drag along your walls like the perfect massage, eliciting another deep moan as you gripped his hair with one hand as the other arm draped his shoulders.
He rested his hands on your hips as he guided your movement, thrusting up to reach even deeper as you came back down.
βAaaahβ¦.β you whimpered and gasped, as he continued his thrusts, pulling you down on top of him as the friction generated more heat. βM-Megumi!β
βNgh, fuckβ¦β His name dripping from your lips sent him into a deeper frenzy as he buried his face in your chest, filling his mouth with one of your supple breasts, sucking hard enough for his cheeks to cave around your perked nipple.
Your moans became louder, your arousal causing him to slip even deeper, kissing your cervix with every thrust until you wailed,
βIβm ... gonna cum!!β
Megumi wrapped his arms around your waist, pounding into you at a steady, perfect pace until your core gripped him like a vice, and your heat coated him like molten lava.
You were everything he could ever need. And gifting you multiple orgasms in the course of an evening was the best way he could imagine spending his birthday.
Or any other...
*~*~*~*~*
You walked into your corporate gigβs building early the next morning, the skip in your step and the glow in your skin making you more radiant than you had been for days.Β
The harsh florescents beating down from the ceiling pulled no frustration from you today as they normally did.Β Your body still felt Megumi all over it, and was enough to keep your mind occupied for good.
Or, at least until you saw him again.
You spoke to a few people, flashing genuine smiles, and some muted ones to the meanies out of professional duty.
Some came by your desk for answers about manuals youβd recently completed, as there was a rumor going around that there were already plans to use them to train yet another group of employees.
As far as you were concerned, that was perfectly fine since it likely meant youβd have your load lightened at this place even more. That was a welcome change since ironically it seems to have gotten heavier since...Β he showed up.
You finished a teachable moment with a colleague as you made your way to the coffee station, grateful that someone made a fresh pot before youβd arrived.
βAh, niceβ. You murmured as you pulled your favorite mug from the cabinet, sighing to yourself as you washed it at the sink in warm water.
You turned to grab the coffee pot only to see a familiar face out of nowhere, smirking down at you, nearly startling you to death.
Sukuna.
You flinched hard, βGod!β you nearly yelped, pressing your free hand against your chest.
βNot quite.β He responded, his smirk quickly widening into a sly smile. βI was wondering if it was gonna be a good morning.β he swiped the hot pot from the maker before you did, pouring its contents into his over-sized cup, taking way too much.
βLooks like it is.β he said, casually turning the cup into his mouth as if it wasnβt scorching, or bitter.
You raised a brow, gripping the handle of the pot as you took it for yourself, pouring the remainder in your pink Volkswagen mug. βGood morning, Sukuna.β you spoke with an exhausted tone, rotating your shoulders to pass him as you headed to the fridge.
He took a quick glance around the room, checking for passers by or listening ears. βYouβve uh... got quite the set of pipes on you.β he praised, relaxing his large body against the sink as his biceps bulged from his arm propping himself up with it.
You looked up at him from your angle at the refrigerator door, pulling out the βItalian Cremeβ.
βThanks.β you said dryly, suddenly remembering to address something.
βSpeaking of... would you mind telling me exactly what you were doing at that venue last night?β
His lips turned down in the corners as he shrugged, βListening to music?β he replied, squinting as if he didnβt understand your question, then smiling as if he did.
βYou know what I mean, Sukuna.β You tried not to slam the door before you walked the creamer back over to your coffee. βThat was a private event.β
βHmph, well that doesnβt make much sense. If that were true, I wouldnβt have been allowed in.β he replied mockingly. βBesides that, where I go outside of work hours is none of your business now, is it?β He said smoothly.
You huffed, βThatβs the point though, right?β you finished stirring in the cream, turning toward him. βThereβs like...β you shrugged, βI dunno... thirty different clubs in this area? Of all of βem, how did you end up there?β
βI got a tip from a friend that there was a show.β
You scoffed. βA friend?β
βYeah.β
βDid that βfriendβ happen to have that information on a computer?β
βLike I said, none of your business.β
βIt is if you took the location from my personal files.β You stared at him, shaking your head. βLetβs not play this game. How could you invade my privacy like that?β
He cocked his head sideways, βWeβve already made you aware that these computers, and all the information on them areΒ companyΒ property.β
He leaned forward a bit, careful to maintain a healthy workplace boundary as he continued. βIf you want privacy, perhaps you should use a different computer.β
You clenched your teeth behind your jaw. βYou had to have a reason.β your eyes cutting into his nonchalant gaze, βNo one does something like that for nothing.β
His eyes raked over you in a mildly inappropriate manner. He smirked, crossing his chiseled arm over his broad chest, propping his hand under the bicep that held up his ridiculously large mug.
βIβm a musician.β his lips turned down in the corners with a shrug. βI tend to be where music is.β
βTch. So Iβve heard.β
βHave you?β
βYouΒ knowΒ I have.β
He held your gaze a moment, his devious smile widening. βThen did you also hear my bandβll be playing there in a month?β
βWhat?!βΒ you flinched at your own voice, which was a little too loud for the office break-room. Your eyes quickly scanned your surroundings, colleagues passing by with confused faces, your blood nearly reaching a boiling point.
βYeah... get someΒ goodΒ music coming out of that spot for once. Show this city what a real rock band sounds like.β His smile was far too bright and genuine for such a disrespectful comment.
If looks could kill, youβd have gotten him workmanβs comp at the very least. βYou cant be serious.β
βAs a heart attack.β
You scoffed, βUnbelievable.β you stared at him a while, blown away by his audacity, yet he just seemed to like the attention. βDonβt you have something better to do?β
βYes. As a matter of fact, I do.β His eyes raked over you again, slower this time, enough to send a little shudder through you. βAnd so do you.β
βAnd whatΒ exactlyΒ is that supposed to mean?β
He chuckled darkly as he turned on his heels out of the break room wearing a sly grin, another employee stopping him for help almost immediately as he hit the corridor.
Your face scrunched, nose flared, eyes fluttering as you grabbed your mug and walked to your desk thinking how that man was truly a piece of work.Β
Literally.
And off all places, you had to be here with him, for hours on end.
You settled into your seat, re-adjusting, remembering that you wanted to finish a few lyrics to a new song today while you were on your break. Yet, after that little run-in with Sukuna, you felt it really would be best to just to leave all of your personal work at home.
You couldnβt imagine putting Megumi in another difficult situation.
Not after this.
After a few minutes, your phone dings with a text:
Tsumiki: Hey Love! Nobara and I are getting soba for lunch. Wanna come?
You were so happy to hear from them. It was an immediate relief.
You: Absolutely! I miss you guys, already. Sorry about last night.
Tsumiki: no need to apologize, it was his day. we understood.
You: yeah, but... well... weβll talk about it later. Text the addy?
Tsumiki: Yup. C u there!
Youβd actually felt a little guilty that Megumi cut them off last night, especially since Tsumiki only had so much time to stay with you all before she had to be back.
If she hadnβt planned to stay for several days, you likely wouldnβt have let him get away with it, but she didnβt have to leave yet and as she said, it was his birthday.
βYouβre here.β
A familiar voice called out to you as youβre hunched over at your desk on your phone. You turned to see Geto sauntering toward you.
Whatβs up? you asked, taking another sip of your coffee, the warmth actually relaxing you a bit as you swiveled your seat around to face him.
βSo... it looks like weβll need you on another training module.β
βW-what?β Your knee-jerk reaction was frustration, displayed far to clearly in your expression. You quickly straightened your face as you remembered you were in front of a person who could actually fire you. βS-sorry.β
Geto paused a moment, chuckling to himself as he smacked the back of the pen he was holding in his opposite palm. βLook, Iβm not picking on you, okay? If you recall, we discussed that thereβd be another one.β
βI just... wasnβt expecting it so soon.β
He nodded, βUnderstandable. But youΒ areΒ one of the best and primary trainers on the team, so naturally youβd be chosen to participate. This is your work, remember?β
You grimaced a little at his very valid point. βRight, but I cant get a break on this? I volunteered to fill in last time.β
βTrue, but this one is mandatory for leads. We just finalized the details in a meeting yesterday. Itβll be our second module for this term, and hopefully the last for quite some time.β
Whatβs the time frame looking like?
βWe wonβt be leaving for another two weeks, so no rush this time. But weβll be heading to Okinawa.β
βWow. Okinawa?β
βYes. Sukuna says it ββ
βSukuna?β
βYes. It was actually his idea. Heβs responsible for handpicking staff and location for training modules. He felt the serene atmosphere will be a nice break, and...β he snickered a little, βconsidering how hard heβs worked, hoping for a personal vacation that likely wonβt come for a while. I think heβs right.β
Your wheels turned violently in your head as your brows threaded together, βRight...β your eyes darting to and fro as you tried to make sense of it all.
βItβll be a two week stretch so... not as long as the first trip. And no big language gap this time.β
βOkay... Uhmββ
βAlso, there happens to be a convention there for the higher ups, so weβll have a dinner to attend... be sure to be prepared for that. Itβs formal.β
Your heart sank into your chest as Geto went on, talks of formalities, fancy rooms, cocktail dresses, business dinners and beaches.
But a light bulb went on in your head, a glimmer of hope, even excitement behind your eyes as you posed the question. βI noticed that some of the staff, on the last trip, were able to bring a plus one... can Iβ?β
βIβm afraid not. Weβve already hit capacity and...β he frowned β...Well, I donβt mean to sound presumptuous but... I wasnβt aware that you had someone. I mightβve considered that had I known.β
You smiled, uncomfortably, the notion of bringing work colleagues into your personal life making you cringe. βI do. Iβm really hoping I could bring him along.β
βYeah, thatβs not possible... Maybe next time.β Sukuna says happily, boldly cutting into your conversation as he sauntered toward you and Geto.
You pursed your lips as you hiked a brow, body tensing as you took a deep breath, hoping heβd leave soon.
βWeβve already chosen the staff, and this trip will be a little different. No βplus-onesβ this time.β You raised your gaze and he met it with a tilt of his head. βJust us.β
Clearly, Megumi was right. But then, when was he not?
Sukunaβs already infiltrated your work, Megumiβs work, and now you have the sneaking suspicion heβs attempting to interfere in your relationship?
It was getting out of fucking hand.
And you obviously had no idea how far Sukuna was willing to push. But you were getting one. And fast.
You took a deep breath. βOkay then.β your eyes met Getoβs. βIβll be sure to prepare myself. Will you send details?β
βI will.β Sukuna interjected, crossing his thick muscular arms against his chest again, his weight shifting backward a little as his tattoos peeked through the sleeves of his perfectly pressed oxford. βIβll be sure to give you everything you need.β he replied, his lips turning up ever so slightly in the corners.
You nodded slowly, noting his slick talk, thanked them as they wrapped up, then turned back to your desk to finish your work.
*~*~*~*~*
Megumiβs band decided to rehearse at Nanamiβs since the studio was being rented out by another band. Choso had disappeared into the office for a while, as Megumi and the others went over a few things.
βWe can take a break for now. But weβve still got three more to finish, including Makiβs.β Megumi said, changing one of the high hats on his kit.
βIts about damn time!β Yuji yelled from the bar, receiving deliveries and prepping for the night.
Yuta raised a brow, βYeah, it is.β he murmured.
Maki snapped her head toward him. βWhat?! Not you, too...β
Yuta shrugged. βWeβve been waiting forever for you to let us play it. Youβre too good to let your music sit this long without exposure.β
βWell, I need it to be exactly the way I want it before I let anyone else in on it!β
βI mean, youβre not wrong, but... neither is he.β Megumi interjected.
βOh, be quiet.β Maki grumbled.
Yuta chuckled as he and Megumi shared a knowing glance.
βItβs not like I havenβt wanted to perform it.β She replied. βItβs just... a certain someone kind of inspired me recently.β she hiked a shoulder.
βAwww Iβm glad to have encouraged you.β Yuta responded with a warm smile.
βNot you, idiot!β Maki snapped. She shook her head, eyes meeting Megumiβs. βThat girlβs got no idea how much of a force she can be.β
Megumi looked down at his hand as he quickly twirled his stick, his heart warming as he thought of you. If only Maki knew how right she really was.
At that moment, Choso sauntered out of the office, nose flared.βYouβre not gonna believe this shit.β He said, relatively calmly to Megumi as he walked up, despite the implied urgency.
Chosoβs eyes scanned the room, catching eye contact with each of them. βCome with me.β He turned toward the bar, βYuji! You too, bro.β he said, waving for him to join them as they migrated to Nanamiβs office.
*~*~*~*~*
βHeβs just going to do a couple nights a week to help bring in more cash.β Mei advised, arms crossed as she helped Nanami deliver the news to the band.
Megumi scoffed, arms sinking into his pockets as he closed his eyes, his head dropping down, βI knew itβ written all over his face.
βExcuse me?β Maki squinted under a deep frown, working to grasp what the hell was going on.
βYou canβt do everything alone Megumi.β Nanami added. βThis is business.β
βI havenβt been.β Megumi retorted, head still angled down as he looked up at Nanami. βAnd there are other bands here. Bands whoβve been waiting in line, patiently, to open for us.β
βTrue, but none as popular as they are. And with the growth you guys have brought to this venue... we canβt go backwards. Youβve raised the bar, and the crowds are expecting every show to be good.β
Yuji flicked his eyes back and forth between Megumi and Nanami, scrunching his lips in one corner of his mouth.
βWeβll lose money if we donβt get better acts in here. Ones that can meet the standard youβve set for this place.β Mei continued. βThis canβt be about personal issues. It needs to be about profitability. For everyone.β
βHow is this even happening?β Yuta asked. βIsnβt there a β¦ process or something?β
βHeβs already had a conversation with me.β Nanami replied after a long sigh.
βWhen?β Toge whined.
βRight?β Choso added, βHe just got here like five minutes ago.β
βA couple days ago, actually. Before Megumiβs event. He called us and let us know he was in town.β he looked around at all the disappointed faces.
βHer even brought video footage of his band. And reviews. Plus, the only band here that has a bigger following than they do is you.β
βThis Is fucking crazy.β Maki commented.
βJust like the good old days.β Yuta murmured.
βWild.β Toge chimed.
Megumiβs eyes cut toward Nanami in frustration. But he knew to expect something of this nature. Sukuna was a troublemaker. And he was prepared to have to deal with whatever popped up.
Unfortunately, they really were a spectacular band, and the business part was understood. But this was Megumiβs livelihood. And his home.
Not to mention, you.
Sukuna liked getting under his skin, so Megumi knew, even if a little, heβd involve you in the process. And nothing here besides his family and the people in this room were a bigger part of his life now than you are.
βLook, they wont take your place.β Nanami reassured them as he leaned against a stool with his arms crossed. βThey cant. I wonβt even allow it. But weβll still be here when you guys move on to bigger and better things. We need more great bands here. Please work with us on this Megumi.β
*~*~*~*~*
βAre you fucking serious?β
You met her gaze, rolling your eyes. βGirlβ¦β Your heart seemed to twist a little at the tiniest notion of yet another something causing issues in your relationship with Megumi. βIβm already exhausted with his antics. Megumi couldnβt have possibly been more right about himβ.
βWhy the hell does he need to perform here? Isnβt he leaving soon?β Nobara whined. Clearly aggravated.
βNot that I know of.β You replied. βHeβs supposed to be at the office for quite a while now, God knows how long. He worked at a branch closer to the college he attended with Megumi.β
Tsumiki nodded slowly, a knowing look on her face.
You glanced over, feeling the knot in your chest tighten, working to make out the meaning behind her expression behind a wrinkled brow. βWhat?β
βThis is kinda typical.β she sighed, βI meanβ¦ Itβs not like the same thing will happen between you and Megz, butβ¦ Sukuna had a lot to do with his breakupβ¦ from Nanako.β
Paranoia Purple (Live at Electric Lady) β Yebba
played on the speaker as your lips parted and you panicked inside. You flattened your back against the cushion of your chair, eyes widening as a quick huff exited your chest.
Tsumiki leaned in, her hand resting on your forearm. βLook, I only mentioned it because heβs trouble. Itβs just a heads up. Thatβs all. Heβs not the type to back off easily. I just want you to keep that in mind.β
Your heart felt heavy in your chest as your gaze floated over to Nobara who looked just about as concerned as you felt.
βNoby?β you said her name as if pleading for some sign of relief.
βSheβs right.β Nobara said, genuinely. βYour relationship with Megumi is about you and him. Not Sukuna.β She smiled. βYou love him, right?β
You huffed, nodding. βWithout question.β
βThen everythingβll be fine.β She reassured, βYou love him. I mean, the only real question weβre asking here is, what could Sukuna possibly do to change that?β She rested her hand on your other arm. βRight?β
You glanced back and forth between the two of them, with another nod. βRight.β You echoed. βThe answer is simple. Nothing.β You swallowed hard as the bad feeling in your chest seemed to spread through to your nerves.
Regardless how you felt, or what you thought, this entire scene was exhausting. This shouldnβt be happening. You were sure it wore on your friends too, as they practically consoled you.
But It was.
Why though? Because some random guy decides he wants to play around in your personal life? Toy with your well being as if it were worthless?
βThis is β¦ ridiculous.β you said, your head shaking in disbelief. βWhy is this happening?β
Tsumiki scrunched her lips in the corner of her mouth. βHow could it not?β she then smiled, pressing her lips together. βYou have a great thing going with Megumi. Thatβs not easy to find. People who feel they canβt, will either want to take it, or destroy it.β
She leaned in, relaxing her shoulders. βYou donβt have anything to prove. But sometimes we all have to protect what we love.β
You turned to see Nobara smiling as well, clearly in agreement. Her eyes then suddenly flicked around as if she were in deep thought.
βYou recall what happened when Nanako showed up at Megumiβs?β
You crossed your arms in front of you, resting them on the table. βYeah. Now that you mention it, you never told me what happened out there.β
It suddenly dawned on you that you hadnβt even bothered to ask Megumi.
βHe checked her. Cleanly.β she said, her brows pressing into her forehead. βShe practically whined like a baby about how she was the greatest girlfriend heβd ever had, as her sister stood by and said nothing.β
She continued: βMegumi said, βWhat makes you think that?β
Her reply was, βIsnβt it obvious? Sukuna and I tried so hard to help you, and you just ββ
Megumi Interrupts her and says, βIβm gonna stop you right there. Do you hear yourself? Even now, as you blatantly disrespect my work, my friends, my home, and my girlfriend, you bring up another man.
Nanako pleaded, nonsensically, βSukuna knows all kinds of people in the industry! He was just trying to help. To make things better for you!ββ
βIt didnβt mean much to me at that time to hear his name, since I had no idea who he was. But now, it all makes sense.β
βMegumi realized how sad she looked, still gnawing away at that bone, with no understanding of how sick it was making her. βAnd just exactly how well did putting him before me work out for you?ββ
βOofβ¦ When he said that, even I felt bad for her. It was fucking embarrassing. But kinda hilarious at the same time, becauseβ¦ well, we all know how much trouble sheβd caused.β
βHe stepped closer to her, with a straight face, and asked, βWhen does your shame kick in? You were so sure I wouldnβt be where I am. That I wouldnβt go where Iβm going.β
βYou have light years to travel before coming anywhere close to the woman I have now. Iβve never met anyone better. Go home. And donβt come back here, or thingsβll get a whole lot worse for you.ββ
Your froze in place listening to her, your lips parting as your heart skipped.
You had a clue, based on his behavior those nights in his office, but you didnβt realize how commanding, and frankly a little scary Megumi could be.
If it were at all possible, you suddenly found him even hotter, wondering how you could get in trouble with him again...
Wild Horses β The Sundays
]played on the speakers as you recalled how youβd passed out after he went to talk to her. Yet you had no recollection of the conversation, since nowhere in your mind did you think you couldnβt trust him.
And you were absolutely right.
βMegumi is head over heels for you.β Nobara said. βHe wont just let some guy come in and ruin that.β Her heart warmed as she spoke of it.
Sheβs been there with you through several relationships, always wanting for you exactly what you have right now.
βYuji told me heβd never heard Megumi speak of any woman that way. The ballβs in your court now.β
Your cheeks warmed visibly at the thought of him. βYea. Youβre right.β You replied, your heart swelling in your chest.
You glanced toward Tsumiki, whoβs lids rested softly over her eyes as a huge smile graced her face.
βWhat was it like for you living with Megumi?β
βTch, oh my God.β She murmured, rolling her eyes playfully. βNot much different than now.β she replied, her smile widening.
βHeβs always been a very serious person. And that was understandable considering what happened with our parents. But I often worried about him since β¦ sometimes β¦ it was like he held the whole world in contempt.β
You peered down at your mug of tea through your lashes, a wrinkle forming in your brow for a moment as you curled your hands around the warm ceramic. βI can only imagine what that mustβve been likeβ.
βIt was tough for a while.β She nodded slowly, βWe made it through, though. Took good care of ourselves. I did laundry and kept the house clean, he made sure to get our groceries and cook the food. And it was always delicious.β
You huffed. βStill is.β
βAndβ¦ he was the one who made sure my grades didnβt slip. He was so structured. Focused. And loyal. Always has been.β
She pressed her lips together through her smirk. βUntil Jr. High, that is.β She chuckled. βI recall often wanting him to relax, and Iβd tease him about it. But in the end, I think we both had a healthy influence on each other.β
βYeah.β you smiled warmly. βYouβre lucky to have each otherβ.
βAnd heβs lucky to have you. He knows that.β
βSpeaking of,β Nobara interjected, βare you planning to go home anytime soon? I feel like I hardly see you these days.β
βOh, uhmβ¦ Yeah.β Your body tensed as you remembered something else you wanted to bring up. Youβd considered not, but you figured they should be the first to find out. You took a deep breath before releasing the words.
βHe uhβ¦ he offered me β¦ a key.β
Complete silence fell on all of you, as four large eyes locked in on your face. βWhat?!β they nearly yelped in unison as you peered at the elderly couple nearby who couldβve been given a heart attack.
βI knowβ¦β you squealed. βI wasnβt ready.β
βWhat do you mean you werenβt ready?β Nobara wailed again too loudly. βIβm not ready!β
You and Tsumiki both laughed.
Tsumikiβs face brightened, βAre you gonna do it?β
You grimaced through your blushy smile, βI donβt know, guys!β you shook out your hands, then planted your palms on your cheeks, βI donβt knooooow!β
Youβd never been asked that before, and still werenβt sure how or what to think about it. It was a huge step.
Even the relationship itself, was of a sort youβd never experienced. And because of it, your world seemed to get bigger and more exciting every day.
In a nutshell, it was fucking scary.
Incredible, but absolutely terrifying.
βWOW.β Nobara replied. Glancing away as it seemed wheels were turning in her head. βThatβsβ¦ Wow.β
βI know.β you retorted. βI need some time to think about it. And he told me thereβs no rush.β
βYeah, thatβs what he told you.β Tsumiki added, βBut knowing him, heβll want some kind of an answer soon, especially for something that huge. I donβt recall him even staying over with, let alone living with anyone besides me.β
βI could kinda tell he was hoping Iβd answer βyesβ right away.β you replied, βBut like Noby said, I havenβt been home for a while, and doing so will give me some time to consider it thoroughly. I owe him at least that, whatever my decision is.β
βI agree.β Tsumiki reassured, βRushing into big decisions is the easiest way to make big mistakes.β she rested her hand on your arm again, βNot that I think it would be a mistake.β
You smiled widely, βThank you. And youβre right. Maybe answering when I get back will give me the time I need.β
βYeah. Take a few days, relax, then you can answer with a clear head.β Nobara noted.
βNo, I meanβ¦ itβs gonna be a few weeks.β you sighed, hunching as you angled your head toward the ceiling. βSukuna. He planned another business trip for my department.β
βOh my God girl... Enough with the bombs! I need to recover!β Nobara whined. βWhat the hell? How is he able to do that?β
You filled your lungs with air before you shrugged. βGeto hired him for that kinda thing. I used to be on that team, but itβs his responsibility now, among other things.β
βUgh. Iβm already too sick of him.β she complained, βCanβt you get someone else to go in your place?β
You sighed, βI wish. I canβt opt out, and I canβt bring anyone along. Best believe I tried.β You pressed your first two fingers into your temple. βAnd, itβs to Okinawa of all places.β
Nobara plopped her back into her seat as she shook her head. βWhat a fucking asshole.β She glanced back toward you. βHeβs trying to corner you.β
βSeems like it.β You replied, becoming more annoyed every moment you spent thinking about it.
βThat guy...β Tsumiki murmured. βHeβs pretty relentless β¦ Justβ¦ prepare yourself. For anything.β Her brow wrinkled. βHeβs probably got all kinds of tricks up his sleeve.β
You nodded again in agreement. βI will. For sure.β
The table vibrates as you all look down for the location of the humβ¦ It was Tsumikiβs cell. Sheβd received a text message from the looks of it.
βItβs Toji.β She says. βHeβs here to pick me up.β She turned toward the large window you all sat next to in the restaurant. You and Nobara both met his gaze. He was waiting just outside in a black Mercedes.
βHe wasnβt going to let me just hang out here without spending some time with him, too.β Tsumiki smiled at the two of you.
You smiled back warmly. βWell, I cant say I blame him.β
βYeah. He can be an ass sometimes butβ¦ we love him.β
You and Nobara both chuckled before you asked, βWill you be here a little while longer?β You were hoping to see more of her before she returned to the States.
βYeah. I have a couple more days.β
βKay. Then we should do this again before you go.β You suggested.
βSounds good.β She says, standing and grabbing her bag before she headed out. βSee ya. And donβt for get what I said, ok? Protect whatβs yours.β
βI will.β You promised as you watched her wave goodbye.
You locked eyes temporarily with Toji as he noted Tsumiki leave the building and head for his car. You raised your hand as if to wave, hoping heβd notice.
He did, and offered you an upward nod as Tsumiki entered the car.
*~*~*~*~*
Nobara walked with you back to your building, the clacking of your heels on the sidewalk accompanying the sound of miscellaneous vehicles rushing by in the busy square of Shinjuku.
βIβll see you tomorrow?β You called out to her as you took a few steps toward your office buildingβs entrance.
βUhmβ¦.β Nobara began, her tone indicating something was on her mind.
βWhatβs up?β
βAre you sure Megumiβs okay waiting for your answer?β
Your brow furrowed as you eyeballed her expression. βYeah. As far as I could tell, he was fine. Maybe a little hopeful, but he didnβt seem worried.β
βOkay.β She replied. βHow long is your trip going to be?β
βTwo, maybe three weeksβ
βReally?β
βYeahβ¦β you replied, your smile fading as you observed her unsettled expression. It was always easy to tell when something weighed on Nobaraβs mind. βIs something wrong?β
βNoβ¦ Iβm just. Wondering if Megz can hold it together for that long without you nowadays.β
βOh, Iβm sure itβs not that big a deal.β You frowned, βHe often has all kinds of company around him.β
βBut he wants you. Apparently all the time now.β she huffed past a tiny smile. βA key? β¦ thatβsβ¦ major.β she looked more concerned than happy. βDo you remember what Yuji told us about him? How he spent a lot of time alone, and that work was so important to him?β
βYeah.β
βWell, he also told me that Megumi is constantly thinking about you. What to do for you, how to take care of you, how to help you... I think heβs hooked. Likeβ¦ in a good way, but β¦ a serious way.β
You tilted your head, βWhat makes you say that?β your eyes growing smaller as you considered the implications of her words.
βAre you saying he loves me?β you huffed, βWe all know that, right?β
βOf course butβ¦β
βI mean, thatβs β¦β you looked away, suddenly recalling that night when he asked you to stay, a few moments that made you wonder a little. βI believe he loves me. But β¦ living together isβ¦β you shook your head. βhe sees women constantly. Gorgeous ones. All the time.β
βSo?β Nobara frowned.
βSoβ¦ what if he sees me on too many bad days in a row? What if β¦ I likeβ¦ pass gas around him?β
Nobara snickered, covering her mouth.
βNo, for real!β You snickered with her as you pushed her shoulder. βWhat if he just... looks at me too long and decides heβs tired of me?β
βOh my God, girl.β
βIβm so serious right now.β And then your concerned look matched hers. βWhat if he canβt stand the sight of me after like a month? Iβll be devastated.β
βYouβre being ridiculous.β she scoffed. βDid you not hear a word I just said? Heβs gone for you, girl. I honestly think youβre it for him.β
βI like things the way they are. I donβt wanna lose him due to his exhaustion with our proximity.β You could feel your heart already hurting at the idea of him finally growing tired of you, as if that had ever happened or threatened to. βMegumi isnβt exactly easy to pleaseβ¦ I donβt wanna mess things up.β
Nobara sighed, the look of concern morphing into one of pity. βWe can talk about it later, okay?β She replied, leaning in as she gripped your arm. βHave a good day at work, love.
You lifted your arms, wrapping her in a tight hug, then kissing her on the cheek. βYou, too.β
*~*~*~*~*
Your workdays were always pretty stressful.
But today it seemed they, well, Sukuna specifically, were extra desperate to have all of your time since there was a trip to plan. However, you managed to rip yourself away after briefly speaking with Geto about your job description in detail, avoiding an excessive dig into your personal time.
You usually got home around five, but today it was seven forty-five before you even left the building.
Your legs and back were aching, so you decided to request an Uber during your last meeting since you were too exhausted to bother walking to the station, sitting around on cold benches to wait for the train, or standing in one for a prolonged period, then walking the rest of the way home.
The Uber arrived on time, and you were quite satisfied that Geto ordered a nice one. Your eyes felt like weights as you entered the vehicle, and the nice condition of the ride made you even more relaxed. The seats were plush and soft to the touch.
Just as you tilted your head against the leather cushion of the back seat in the car, the nice fragrance in the interior, the hum of the engine, and the muted nightlights outside the window lulled you right to sleep.
Your head bobbed along the back of the seat, seemingly for just a moment, only for the driver to suddenly call your name as he reached your building. βMaβam, youβre home.β He said, peering through the rear-view, waking you up just before you reached rem.
βUghβ¦β you were slightly disoriented, just making out the front of your building as your eyes adjusted. βIβm so sorry... Thank you!β you replied as you opened the door to exit.
You started up the stairs to the apartment, just realizing you hadnβt turned your phone back on at all after turning it off when you returned from lunch. It seemed you were needed every moment at work, and had no time to use it.
βOh my godβ¦β you grimaced, searching for it as you walked in, only to hear multiple consecutive βdingsβ on it from texts and missed calls the moment you turned it on.
Most of them were from Megumi.
Megumi: hey. hope ur day is good. what time will u be home?
2:30PM
Megumi: coming back to my place tonight? Iβm making udon.
3:46PM
Megumi: u must be really busy.
5:00PM
Megumi:??Havenβt heard from you. Everything OK??
7:03PM
Megumi: Starting to worry. Call me when you get home.
8:30PM
You called immediately.
βHello?β
βMegz!β you called out to him, clearly anxious, yet your heart was relieved the moment you heard his voice.
You hadnβt spoken with him since you left his house last night. βGod, Iβm so sorry! Itβs been fucking ridiculous at work today.β
βYeah, I figured.β He replied calmly, relief lacing his voice as you spoke. βYou home?β
βYeah. I just got back. Like, literally two minutes ago.β
βWow.β he paused, a wrinkle forming in his forehead. βOvertime?β
βIβm really sorry, Megz. Geto even scheduled the Uber for me. I passed out in the seat the moment I sat down. I forgot to turn on my phone.β
βYou got an Uber?β
βYeah.β
βWhy are you getting an Uber when you have a man at your beck and call?β
You chuckled, dropping the keys on the kitchen counter along with the rest of your stuff. ββBeck and call?β Really? You had rehearsal didnβt you?β
βYeah, butβ¦ I own the place?β
Another chuckle. βRight. Mβsorry sweetie. I promise Iβll call you if this happens again.β
βYou donβt have to apologize β¦ But Iβd rather you promise me youβll never pass out in one of those alone again... orβ¦ at the very least, text me or Nobara your info and location.β
βYeahβ¦ Youβre right.β You grimaced, realizing you could have awakened in any number of strange placesβ¦ or not at all.
βWell, hopefully soon youβll be staying here more often instead.β he replied casually.
It fell silent on the phone for a moment, your mind reeling a little.
ββ¦ Or β¦ not?β he murmured.
You stopped yourself just before apologizing again. βIβm just... taking some time to think about it.β
Megumiβs heart sank a little, enough for him to actually feel it move. βWhat can do to help you make your decision?β
βNothing reallyβ¦ I guess Iβm β¦ justβ¦ wanting to not rush it. Iβll have to say goodbye to everything.β
He sighed audibly, βI get it.β his fingers running through his black hair again as he sank deeper into the cushions of the couch.
βIβm starting to miss you too much already.β he said nearly under his breath, looking around at the random little things youβd left behind in his place.
He slid the bracelet you gave him off of his wrist, holding it up to the light to view your pretty face through the crystal.
βKinda lame of me, huh?β
You felt your heart warm as you recalled everything Nobara mentioned about his feelings for you. βOf course not.β It was difficult to hold back your smile as it widened behind a deep blush that he wasnβt able to see over the phone. βAnd I miss you, too.β
You figured maybe this wasnβt the best time to tell him, but you might as well, since you didnβt wanna take the chance that some one else would do it first.
βUhβ¦β you sighed a tired sigh, one that he could tell had a little something extra behind it.
βWhat is it?β he asked his eyes leaving the bracelet as he waited for your reply...
Notes: As always, I welcome any and all critiques, suggestions, and comments regarding my work, since I truly feel all of those may make me a much better writer! I sincerely appreciate you taking the time to read my little stories, and if you'd like to be tagged in releases, don't hesitate to comment below! πππΆ
When you accidentally get caught in the crossfire of an attack on the new clan head, Megumi Zenin, your world gets flipped upside down. Suddenly, you are part of his dark world and are getting much closer to the Yakuza boss than you both ever wanted. But living together with Megumi lets you see the man behind his cold mask, and what starts as an arrangement to keep you safe becomes a lot more.
You can find the Masterpost here
Warnings: 18+, female reader, fluff/smut in later chapters/light angst. Modern AU, Yakuza-related crime and violence, Megumi kills to protect the people he cares about, alcohol, forced proximity. Happy ending. Megumi and Reader are both in their mid/late twenties. Minors don't interact. Word Count: 3.5k
The fanart in the header was used with permission from the artist koonya911 on Twitter. Credit for the divider @/cursed-carmine.
The Black Dragon bar is known for several things. A) It's a very exclusive and fancy place with an interior that is a beautiful mix of modern and traditional, and a menu that only contains drinks and meals prepared with high-end ingredients. B) The Black Dragon bar is a Yakuza bar. A meeting place on neutral ground where the men who rule Tokyo's underworld discuss their business deals.
You have been working here for three years already. And as nervous as you were in the beginning, you soon grew used to serving drinks to some of the most powerful and dangerous men of this city. Especially when they always give such generous tips. And so far, nothing bad has ever happened.
Tonight, though, there's a weird tension in the air as the first clan members enter the bar, where a big meeting is being held tonight. You wear your professional mask, bowing and smiling politely, greeting everyone with utter respect. The usual people are here tonight. Mostly old, grey-haired men who ooze power and money. You don't often see someone young among this powerful crowd. Usually, the only exception is Ryomen Sukuna. But tonight there is a new face. Or not really a new face. You have seen him before, of course. But not as one of the Yakuza bosses.
Megumi Fushiguro. No, he isn't Megumi Fushiguro anymore. He is Megumi Zenin now. The lost heir, who came back to claim his rightful place at the top of the Zenin clan.
You saw it in the news. First, the funeral of the former Zenin clan head, who died of old age. And then the killings. Half of the Zenin clan was wiped out. In the official news, it was called an attack between rivaling clans, and they said that the police didn't have any suspects yet.
The rumors you heard, though, clearly state two names: Maki Zenin and Megumi Fushiguro. Both are Zenins by blood but were never bound to the clan by honor. Blood traitors, who worked for another family. But that still doesn't change the fact that Megumi Fushiguro is the highest-ranking male Zenin now.
You don't know exactly why Megumi's father left the Zenins all those years ago, but what you know is that the Zenin clan has a bad reputation. While the other clans were interested in making business contracts and mostly kept the peace, the Zenins were the ones who were to blame for most of the violence that put this city into fear.
Until the Zenin Killings happened and the clan got a new leader.
And now he is walking into this bar, in his tailored black suit, with an aloof expression on his pretty face, and his cold, dark blue eyes glaring at everyone as if he hates nothing more than being here.
Before today, you knew him as the bodyguard of The Young Tiger, Sukuna's younger brother, who was sometimes sent here to attend meetings in the name of the Itadori clan. And Megumi Fushiguro was the silent shadow following Yuuji Itadori, tagging along behind him, blue eyes stern and attentive to their surroundings. Only sometimes risking a small smile or soft laugh when Yuuji said something to him.
Tonight, the man who walks into this bar is another person. This isn't Megumi Fushiguro, the loyal bodyguard who only exists to protect someone else with his life. This man in front of you is Megumi Zenin, the youngest Yakuza boss this city has had in years. He is now one of the most powerful men in this country. One of the most dangerous. And he is clearly not happy about being here.
He is towering over you, tall and intimidating, his fine black suit not able to hide how fit he is beneath it. His face is a clear giveaway that he has the Zenin genes. Beautiful, elegant features, framed by unruly black hair and dark blue eyes, which stare you down coldly.
The woman behind him steps forward, Maki Zenin, you realize, his cousin, or first cousin once removed, if you remember correctly, who also used to work for the Itadori clan, and now apparently functions as Megumi Zenin's bodyguard. She gives a curt nod,
"Megumi Zenin, for the meeting, please."
"I don't need you to state my business, Maki."
He grounds out through clenched teeth. His voice is low, sounding just as cold as he looks. You feel goosebumps on your arms, but stay professional and bow deeply, greeting both of them with a polite smile,
"Of course. Welcome back to our establishment. We are very pleased to serve you tonight. Please follow me."
You escort him to the private backroom, where the meeting is held, and show him to his seat at the large table. He thanks you when you place the menu before him, and you can't help but notice that he smells good before you straighten up again and put your professional smile back on your face, and ask for his drink order.
He is surprisingly polite now, placing his order in a calm voice, thanking you again, and even handing the menu back to you so you don't have to collect it. You think that maybe his earlier bad mood came from disliking those kinds of business meetings, or maybe he is someone who, in general, isn't very fond of being around other people.
You give him a more genuine smile,
"Thank you, Mr. Zenin. I will be right back."
You notice how his jaw clenches when you say his name. You quickly bow again and leave to get the drinks, trying to ignore the nervous flutter of your pulse.
You return a few minutes later, balancing a large tray on one hand, serving the guests silently. You know that in here, you have to be discreet when the powerful men talk. Practically invisible.
That is as long as one of the men doesn't decide to flirt with you. Then you are expected to play along, smile and giggle a bit, and endure it even when you hate the way his hands trail over your body.
One of those old guys does exactly that right now, when you place his wine in front of him. His voice drawls sugary-sweet,
"Ah, thank you, sweetheart. Have I told you how lovely you look again tonight? Always such a sight for my old, sore eyes."
He leers at you, his eyes wandering greedily over your body. You put on a fake smile, laughing softly, and thanking him for the compliment. You force yourself not to pull away when he reaches out to pat your ass and then lets his large hand rest there. Your job forbids you to tell him to stop, and so all you can do is smile and wait until an acceptable amount of time has passed so you can leave without affronting him.
But it is someone else who speaks up. A low, cold voice, dripping with contempt,
"Stop wasting my time with molesting the poor waitress and just start with what we came here for. I don't have all night."
Megumi Zenin. Your gaze flickers to him, and you give him a small grateful smile, quickly stepping away from the other guy. You leave before the following discussion can start, letting out a long breath as the door softly slides shut behind you.
You spend the next hour serving tables in the front area of the bar, knowing that no one is allowed to enter the private rooms as long as the occupants don't explicitly demand a waitress.
You enter the kitchen, pushing the swing door open with your hip as you balance two arms full of plates. Your favorite coworker waves at you, looking stressed,
"Hey, I am so sorry, but can you please take the trash out for me? My mom isn't feeling well. I have to leave early."
"Sure, no problem. Go home and say hello to your mom."
You smile reassuringly as she walks past you and gives your shoulder a grateful squeeze. You put the dirty dishes away and grab the two large trash bags before exiting the kitchen through the back door.
Cold night air hits you as you step into the dimly lit back alley behind the bar. You throw the trash bags into the large dumpster and are about to head back in when you catch a movement in the corner of your eyes.
You jump, breath getting caught in your throat, when you see a tall, dark figure leaning against the brick wall. The figure moves and steps into the dim light of the street lamp. Your pulse flutters. It's him again. Megumi Zenin.
He locks the screen of his phone and shoves it back into the pocket of his suit jacket while walking towards you with large steps.
You feel frozen in your spot, somehow unable to move. You have no idea what it is about him that makes you so flustered. You stare at him, not even caring how rude this is. He raises an elegant eyebrow, blue eyes scanning your face with an unreadable expression. And then he stops next to you, murmuring to you in his low voice as if he is sharing a secret with you,
"Don't you hate it? Acting like everything is fine when those sick assholes sit in there, thinking they can do whatever they want, and bend this world to their will? How can you put on that polite smile while those disgusting old creeps put their dirty hands on you?"
Your eyes widen as you stare straight ahead at the door, your heart beating to your throat, intimidated by his presence. He is so close that you can smell his fresh, masculine cologne again, and you imagine you can feel the warmth emanating from his tall, strong body.
You make a helpless little noise and shrug,
"It's my job."
For a moment, there is only silence, only the distant muffled sounds of the nightly city reaching your ear as if through a glass wall. Then he huffs softly,
"Yeah, I guess. The disgusting things we have to do to be allowed to live."
His voice is hard, his posture rigid and almost threatening, but you can't help but think you hear a hint of sadness in his tone. Maybe that is why you lift your head and look up at his beautiful face, half hidden in the shadows, and say softly,
"I can imagine that your job must be very tough, Zenin-san."
His dark blue eyes narrow,
"Don't call me that. I hate that name."
"I'm sorry... um Fushiguro-san, then?"
He stares at you for a moment, jaw clenched, and something flickers over his blue eyes, something akin to sadness once again, as if, in his mind, he is looking at a fond memory that slipped through his fingers. The moment is gone quickly, though, and his eyes are the same cold pools again.
"That's not who I am anymore either."
You feel strangely trapped here in his gaze, unable to step away even though he doesn't even touch you or stand in your way. You open your mouth, about to ask how you are supposed to address him, when the heavy metal door of the building across the alleyway gets kicked open with a loud bang.
And then hell breaks loose in the narrow back alley.
Two men in black suits step into the street. Everything happens too fast for you, but you realize that they both carry a katana. And they aren't here by accident. Before you can react, you get pushed to the side. You scream as you stumble and then fall onto your knees.
You look up and see Megumi Zenin, or Fushiguro, or whatever he wants to be called nowadays. He pushed you out of the way and is putting himself between you and the attackers, pulling out a knife of his own.
You watch everything in front of you unfold as if in slow motion, frozen in fear, unable to move and run or scream for help or anything.
The two armed guys attack the Zenin heir simultaneously. But he counters the attacks with efficient, elegant moves. The movements of someone who has been in a situation like this countless times before. A former bodyguard, trained to react fast and smart.
You watch in a daze as Megumi kicks one of the guys in the stomach, making him tumble back a few steps. But his colleague instantly takes his place and lashes out with his sword, his blade meeting Megumi's.
He calls out to the other guy,
"I got this! Go after his woman! Kill her too!"
His words barely register in your brain when the second guy already turns to you. You stare up at him. And finally, the adrenaline in your veins wins, and you can move again. You jump to your feet, backing away from the armed man, who is approaching you with a low, cruel laugh, as if he enjoys the thought of killing a woman.
Your instincts kick in, and you start running. But you don't get far. A strong hand grabs your arm and pulls you back, and then you get slammed into the wall. Your back hits the brickstone hard, knocking the breath out of you.
Your eyes widen in panic as you look at the man in front of you with the deadly glint in his eyes. You struggle against his grip, fighting for your life, but he is too strong. You watch in horror as he lifts his katana and brings it closer to your throat, letting the blade slowly trail down your neck and over your breasts, resting it against your ribcage, where your heart is beating frantically.
You feel tears run down your cheeks, and your body is shaking violently as the hopeless conviction fills your mind that you will die now.
But suddenly your attacker's eyes widen, and he stumbles backwards. Through a curtain of tears, you see your savior: Megumi Zenin is standing behind the man, one hand brutally grabbing the guy's hair to pull him off you.
His other arm goes around the attacker's throat, holding him in a chokehold, while the blade of Megumi's knife presses against the guy's throat. Megumi's teeth are gritted, making him look savage.
The man in Megumi's chokehold is breathing heavily, but his eyes are filled with hatred, and he hisses,
"Let go, pretty boy. As if you are man enough to end it."
And then Megumi Zenin starts laughing. It's a scary sound. Cruel, sadistic, insane. His face is a grimace, beautiful but deadly. Blue eyes filled with a mad glint, his lips lifted in that insane smirk, and he says in a smooth, almost seductive voice,
"What? You think I haven't done this before? You think I have any qualms killing trash like you? Wanna know what I hate even more than spineless worms killing for some made-up power structures? Scum, like you, who enjoys killing innocent people. She has nothing to do with any of this. It's you who deserves to die, not her."
Megumi's gaze snaps to your terrified and shaking form, where you are slumped bonelessly against the brick wall. His dark blue eyes are hard when he says in that scary, calm voice,
"Cover your eyes."
You are too shaken up to react, and when your brain finally catches up with what Megumi is about to do, you already see him dragging his blade across your attacker's throat with a sure, precise movement.
You gasp, quickly pressing your hands over your eyes, but it doesn't prevent you from feeling the disgusting, warm and wet sensation of blood spraying over your face and hands. Your breath is coming out in short, panicked huffs as you feel your legs give away, and you slide down the wall.
You hear a dull, heavy thud. The body of your attacker is getting dumped onto the asphalt.
You sob silently into your hand, shoulders shaking. A soft touch against your arm makes you flinch. You pull your hands off your face, your wide, terrified eyes looking up at Megumi Zenin.
Megumi Zenin, who just killed a man in front of you without any remorse. He looks scary with the bright red splatters of fresh blood on his beautiful face and white dress shirt. "But he saved your life", you think, and maybe that's why you don't try to run when he crouches down in front of you.
His dark blue eyes are filled with worry that catches you by surprise. He lets his gaze trail over your face and body, and you realize that he is checking on you.
His low voice is soothing,
"It's ok. You are safe now. He can't hurt you anymore. Are you ok? Do you have any injuries that I can't see?"
You manage to shake your head,
"N... no... I don't have any injuries. Wh.. where is the other one?"
You look around frantically, feeling panic threatening to drown you again, when your gaze lands on the dead body lying in a gradually growing pool of dark red blood.
A strong but elegant hand cups your cheek, making you turn your face back to focus on Megumi's face in front of you.
"Don't look. The other one ran. It's safe for now. But let's get you away from here."
You barely register how he pulls you to your feet. Any other time, you would be embarrassed by how weak you feel and how you fall against him, legs too shaky to stand. But right now, you aren't in any state to care about something like that.
And Megumi doesn't comment on it either. You feel his strong arm wrap around your waist, steadying you, making sure you don't fall. You lean against him, instinctively searching the safety of his tall, firm body.
You can feel his firm muscles through his clothes, can feel his deadly strength. You know that the hand that is currently cupping your cheek and soothingly trailing a thumb over your blood-stained skin is the hand that only a few minutes ago killed a man. But you can't help but feel safe here in Megumi's arms.
The same thought is repeating in your mind over and over again. "He saved your life. Megumi Zenin killed a man to protect you."
Tears spill over your eyes again, and you press your face against Megumi's chest, feeling slightly guilty for ruining his white dress shirt even more, but not able to hold yourself back. He feels safe and warm, the only good thing in this dark, violent night. You mumble a weak,
"Thank you. Thank you for saving me...."
He cradles the back of your head, just standing there in the dimly lit back alley with you for a long moment, holding you, letting you bury your face in his chest and desperately inhaling the fresh scent of his cologne to chase away the smell of blood.
His long fingers brush over your hair, and then he pulls away, but only to lift you up into his arms, apparently deciding that you are not in any shape to walk on your own at the moment. You are grateful for it, slinging your arms around his neck and letting him carry you back into the kitchen of the Black Dragon bar.
He sets you down on a chair next to the fridge, wordlessly handing you a wet towel to clean the blood off you, before he methodically starts to rid himself of the blood on his skin, too. But you are still too dazed, too shocked to do anything, and just let the towel dangle limply from your hand as you watch Megumi.
He is standing at the sink. His suit jacket abandoned on the counter, the sleeves of his white dress shirt pushed back, revealing a pretty pattern of black and blue tattoos as he washes the blood off his hands. His gaze lands on you again, and he sees the towel uselessly hanging in your hand. He sighs softly and steps closer, taking the towel out of your hand.
"I'll do it for you."
He sounds detached, but his hands are surprisingly gentle when he dabs the wet cloth on your face and wipes the blood off your skin.
The kitchen door gets pushed open at that moment, and Maki bursts in, holding her phone in one hand, glaring at her boss,
"Megumi, what the fuck? Are you ok?"
You half-heartedly listen to the two of them talking. Your mind registers vaguely that they assume the attackers were sent by Naoya Zenin, who managed to escape the Zenin Killings and is now trying to claim the position of the clan head for himself.
It's just background noise in your tired mind. You smile gratefully at Maki when she hands you a glass of cold water, and feel embarrassment wash over you when you try to take a gulp from it but spill half of it over your blouse.
It's Megumi once again who takes the glass from you and cups your chin with his other hand, helping you drink. He brings the glass carefully to your lips, holding you in place with a gentle but firm hand, making you drink the whole glass, before he sets it down beside you and straightens up again. His dark blue gaze wanders over you searchingly.
"Go home and get some rest. I'll call you a taxi so you don't have to drive yourself. And you should quit your job here and look for something new. Not a Yakuza bar, preferably."
His face has that stoic expression again, his words business-like. You nod and thank him again, but he doesn't acknowledge it, his broad shoulders tense as he turns away and asks Maki to help him get rid of the body behind the bar.
You stay in your chair a few minutes longer, staring unseeingly at the wall, before you manage to leave, muttering an excuse about not feeling well, as you walk past your coworker in the reception area.
The taxi is already waiting for you, and you get in, stating your address, and then stare out the car window. But the blinking neon signs and glittering streetlights get drowned out by the pictures in your mind. Fancy black dress shoes standing in a pool of dark red blood. Dark blue eyes filled with worry. Small rivulets of blood and water running down tattooed forearms. Strong arms carrying you. Elegant long fingers gently wiping the blood off your face.
When you exit the taxi and cross the street to your apartment, you stop for a moment, breathing in the night air deeply and tilting your head to look up at the night sky illuminated by a full moon. It looks pretty. Midnight blue, like Megumi Zenin's eyes.
OMGGG THIS WAS THE FIRST CHAPTER!!
If you have followed me for a while, you probably know that I love writing Yakuza AUs and that my first big fanfic was a Sukuna x Reader Yakuza AU. This is where Yakuza Megumi's story started, too. He was Yuuji's bodyguard, and that's the background story he has in "So it goes" too. But "So it goes" is an alternate path for Megumi's Yakuza life. In the original story, I imagine that he and Yuuji are endgame. But I wanted to write a version with Megumi x Reader, and that's what brought us here ;)
I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! I am so invested in this story, and I hope you will all fall in love with Yakuza Boss Megumi, too π€
Reblogs and comments would be super sweet. Or send me and ask. I would love to hear your thoughts!!
(Also, can I just say that I am so turned on by Megumi's soft-dom moments in this chapter, like holding our chin to make us drink the whole glass of water AAAHHH!! I am already such a mess for him π΅π)
κ·κ¦pairingκ¦κ· serial killer!Gojo x detective fem!reader
κ·κ¦cwκ¦κ· NSFW, 18+ MDNIβ(oh boy, here we go) modern AU, angst and smut and despair, explicit sexual content, graphic depictions of death and torture, so much blood (it's messy), moral quandaries, mentions of sexual assault, stalking, abduction, drugging, plotting & betrayal, heavy on the dub-con, mind fucking/breaking, choking (out hehe), slapping, knife play, (very) inappropriate use of firearms, dirty talk (threats count as dirty talk right?), 'make it fit' trope (big dick nerd mmm), fingering, face fucking, unprotected piv sex, creampie, sex with a dead body in the room, p0rn with a dose of murderous plot, obsessive and possessive and very yandere nerd gojo, he's a walking red flag and reader is kind of a freak as usual.
κ·κ¦summaryκ¦κ· the nerd in forensics has always been on your radar. everything about him is too crafted to be genuine. so you've always got your eye on gojo. the same can be said for him, but heβs just watching your back! you have a nasty habit of getting stalked by people who definitely aren't him. but it's mutually beneficial. you don't get murdered by the scorned, ex-con stalkers you've put away, and gojo gets another killer to bleed dry. you really are perfect for each other. but things are going off the rails this time around, and you finally see gojo for what he truly is. maybe you should have stopped looking so hard, but it's too late for maybe now.
κ·κ¦a/nκ¦κ· this got out of hand so fast wow, but Dexter and Gojo? i couldn't stop, so now this is fat and absolutely filthy. it's still kinktober tho, right?βart in the header by @/savoryjump on insta, dividers by @/cafekitsune, @/anitalerina, and @/sister-lucifer κ·κ¦w/cκ¦κ· 17.5k (holy shit, i swear its worth it T_T)
All the usual familiar faces greeted Gojo as he strolled out from the elevator, a box in one hand and a sugary coffee in a to-go cup from the cafe just down the block.
He flashed a smile, crooked and charming and with a few more teeth than typical for him at 8 AM, but he couldnβt help it. Gojo was in a great mood. How could he not be? He not only did the department a huge favor last night, but Tokyo as a whole.
βGood morning, Gojo!β A freshly promoted officer greeted him, wide-eyed and eager. Her uniform pressed, bright blue hair tied back in a neat ponytail, and a folder in hand as she walked through the open glass doors. βThe lab had the results ready for that hair sample. I brought it up with me, figured I could save you the trip down!β She held the folder up in one hand with a smile as she kept pace with him.
Gojo glanced her way as he stopped to let a few people grab a pastry from the pastel pink box in his hand. They greeted him with distracted murmurs, eyeing the box for a favorite.Β
She was a new face around the department, and Gojo was already a little poor at keeping track of names. Itβs one of the few things that made him both feel a little more human, and somehow even more removed from normalcy. It was a flaw, one of many, but in a different way than most of his. He should remember names; being remembered makes people feel a personal connection, like they matter. It disarms them.Β
When Gojo smiled at her, he made sure it reached his eyes, coming off warmer and more genuine that way. βThat was very thoughtful of you, thank you. But, uh,β He glanced up towards the desks, a few still empty with officers and detectives off duty or having not arrived yet, and gestured to one with the hand holding his coffee. βIβm not the one to do any favors for. Thatβs who you should probably be grabbing paperwork for.βΒ
Right on timeβno, you'd have been there for at least an hour if he gauged the time by how your desk was littered with folders and a few open boxes. Your head propped up on one hand as your eyes darted up and down from your monitor to a page. Maybe you pulled another all-nighter, you were in different clothes, but they were already rumpled like youβd been in that fitted button-down for a few hours already. Critical and sharp eyes a little tired. But thatβs how it always was when you were on the precipice of a break, especially on a case as big as the one he knew you were working on.
βThe sergeant?β Officer whats-her-face asked, looking from you to Gojo again. βShe didnβt want any help, I already asked.β She said sheepishly, and Gojoβs smile got a little wider.
βYeah, that sounds like her.βΒ
You grabbed a mug off your desk and took a sip, eyes glued to the screen for a long moment with the ceramic pressed to your lips. After taking in the same two sentences on the witness statement over and over until they blurred, you blinked, broke from the screen, and locked eyes with Gojo.
As if it's a reflex your body made the very moment you registered his presence; your eyes narrowed and your grip tightened on the mug. You looked him up and down fully, not an ounce of shame or hesitation in your sweeping gaze. You werenβt checking him out though; you were putting him under a microscope.
Like you could see the blood still on his hands, spattered on his face, and dripping from his hair if you looked hard enough. Like maybe heβd finally crack under the weight, and a piece of his mask would fall away if you cut through him with piercing eyes.
It happened every day, at the same time, no matter what, Gojo Satoru walked into your department with an effortless air of confidence surrounding him. There was always a smile on his face, sometimes it was small and seemed a little tired, his eyes distant, like his head was stuck somewhere else. Some days, he walked in like he was a fucking god. Wearing a smug grin like heβd won the ultimate prize in life, his unnaturally bright blue eyes satisfied and easy.Β
Always wearing some lame ass button down, untucked like he couldnβt be bothered. Sometimesβlike todayβheβd grace the collar with a loosely knotted tie. Looking like a university student showing up to their first job interview, an attempt at professionalism that missed the mark and landed somewhere in nerdy frat boy cosplaying a salaryman. His platinum hair pushed back a little, just a few strands falling back down on his forehead like he didnβt use product to hold it.Β
He was messy in a way that came off as endearing. Like he was just the nerd in forensics, appearances werenβt important, so he threw whatever on and stopped at the bakery down the block for assorted pastries that definitely were just random, it was chance that he somehow got everyoneβs favorite treat every time.Β
He really was so likable too, maybe thatβs what really pissed you off the most. He was generally nice, helpful, and smartβone of the best in his field. He was funny, and thoughtful, a little goofy, but it balanced out because he was infuriatingly good looking on top of it all.Β
You outranked him, but you were tilting your head back to make eye contact when he gave you a briefing at a crime scene. Youβve had to snap yourself out of it and yank your eyes off him when he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up over forearms roped with a little too much muscle for a nerd and flexed long fingers into blue latex gloves.
It was all a little too effortless for him; he was crafted in a way that seemed literal. Like the pieces of him were put together to disarm, to appease, and fit in, and keep people from pulling back a curtain and looking any deeper.
But you clocked it a long time ago. It seemed like overcompensation, and you started digging, especially when you were promoted to sergeant, and thatβs when you saw the first crack.
Gojo had a habit of engaging in extracurricular activities.Β
A few hair samples here, a blood analysis there, print matching galore, and none of it tied to a case number.
When you confronted him about it, he covered so quickly and perfectly, all you could hear was a hammer cracking down the final nail in his coffin.Β
"Blah blah blah, data to support the arguments in a collaboration piece for a geeky magazine, itβs probably not your thing but itβll be out in a few weeks if you really want to read it. You interested? Seems like it.βΒ
It was the perfect mix of authenticity and teasing, a perfect explanation delivered with a smirk at the end that twisted the spotlight back onto you instead. Like youβd only be interested in one thing, and it didnβt involve advancements in DNA testing.
Youβd crossed your arms, looked down your nose at him, and told him to notify you before putting lab work through without a case number, and if it happened again, youβd write him up for it.Β
βYes, maβam.β He winked with a mocking salute, like he loved it. Loved the way your nostrils flared at his insubordination and your glare at his smile that feigned innocence on the surface to hide something monstrous and sadistic lurking just beneath.Β
You could see it, though, and from then on, you had your eye on him.
Gojo nodded your way, smiling like he wanted your eyes on him, like he enjoyed having your sights set on him, the challenge of being in your crosshairs and getting away with it.
He strolled right up to your desk with a, βMorning, sarge!β You leaned back in your chair, your eyes staying trained on his through his thick prescription lenses, the black frames low on the bridge of his nose. βI think they threw your favorite in again, want something glazed to start the day?β He said slyly as he offered out the box, but he knew youβd decline, you always did.
βNo, what I really want is the full report on the head hunter vic from yesterday.β You responded flatly, your mouth set in a hard straight line. Your eyes flicked behind him. βKasumi, youβre coming with Nanami and I to verify the statement from the witness yesterday, something isnβt right here.β You murmured, gesturing vaguely at your screen.
βYes maβam! When do you want to leave?β The blue haired girl immediately jumped to action, coming up beside Gojo to address you.Β
βHelp Gojo with his paperwork and then weβll leave, his hands look a little full.β You looked right at him, the words curt and clipped and he grinned right back.
βAwe, thanks sarge, always so thoughtful.β Gojo's head cocked. Your eyes narrowed.
βMm.β
βGood luck with your witness.β His smile grew by a fraction and your eyes flitted over his frame quickly once, cataloguing every bit of him before he nodded again, and turned to head to his lab. The new officer followed behind, file in hand.
The witness wouldnβt lead anywhere. None of your efforts would ever lead anywhere, not after last night.
The latest victim's head was the last trophy that sick freak would be taking. In a twist of something that Satoru likes to quantify as justice or maybe karmic retribution, but was really just Satoru making things a little more personal for the guy, a cleaver glinted as he pulled it from his kit, and hacked the killers own stuttering head off.
Whoβs a fucking trophy now?
But his work is hardly over, it never is. The satisfaction only lasts for so long before hunger comes creeping back in. It all works out though because once again, and all thanks to you and your pretty face that can never keep out of trouble, tonight's the night.
A long moment passed within which you burned holes into Gojoβs back as he wound around the other desks, in absolutely no rush as he chatted around with others setting up for the day. Offering out the box of confections like he was fucking Santa Claus or some shit.
He could feel your eyes glued to him, and it just made him drag it all out more. He couldnβt help but like that you paid so much attention to him, because it just proved that he really was the best at what he did. Having you watching his every move and still getting away with it?
God damn, Gojo was good.
βYouβre staring,β Nanamiβs murmur yanked your attention off of Gojo as he and Kasumi moved on and headed to the lab set to the rear of the department floor. You glanced sidelong at your partner, his arms crossed, biceps straining at the blue cotton weave of his dress shirt. βItβs not polite.β
You scoffed, βJust keeping tabs on the department. Are you ready to go? Kasumi is coming with once sheβs done in the geek hole.βΒ
βMhm, do you really think itβs worth it to redo the witness statement?β Nanami cocked his head, and you swiveled your chair a little to face him. βShe seemed quite frazzled yesterday. I doubt itβll be much different now.β
βYouβre right, but donβt let this consume you. You wonβt be any help running on shitty coffee and konbini food instead of sleep.β Nanami raised a brow, his soft hazel eyes studying your face, the rings under your eyes that you know have deepened after an almost full 24 hours at the precinct. βYou sacrifice too much on cases like this.β
βWeβre so close. DNA and a witness? The perp is getting sloppy; this is our shot to catch up and finally nail the sick fuck.β Nanami visibly tensed, a slight grimace passing over his features. Itβs been almost a full year of finding body after body, once beautiful young women violated and left posed with their hands splayed out where their heads used to be, a polaroid of their sleeping faces where the real thing once was. The heads of each never recovered.Β
βIt canβt happen again. I canβt see another one like that, Kento, itβs justβ¦ you know.β You swallowed hard, and your shoulders slumped. Not defeat, youβd never accept that, justβ¦ tired. Tired of the same scene and little to nothing to show for it.
βI know.β Nanami said softly. His hands dropped, one went to a pocket of his grey slacks, the other thumbing the edge of a file on your desk. He cleared his throat, and changed the topic. βAre you thinking she lied? The witness.βΒ
βItβs more likely that she wasnβt thinking straight, but itβs not out of the question. Why though?β You hummed, taking a breath. βIβm not sure.β
βCoercion?β
βFrom the perp?β Your brow furrowed, and you hummed low again. βWhy would he have even left her alive? If she saw identifying features, itβd make more sense to kill her, and heβs definitely not the type to show mercy.β
βMaybe itβs to throw us off,β Nanami countered, pushing your gears to start turning harder. βLead us on some goose chase with a mismatched description.β
βLikeβ¦ maybe heβs trying to set someone up?β Your jaw worked, and you stole a glance at the window to the lab. βWeβve never found DNA, and now we find a hair? Shit.β
βYou think itβs all just for a setup?β
Your chair screeched back, and you practically leaped from your seat. βWhat if heβs trying to make a getaway? Itβs all way too coincidental.βΒ
βKasumi!β You called, storming off towards the lab, gaining a few turned heads. βHustle up, weβre leaving!β Nanami groaned, slinging his jacket over an arm and following towards the lab. You threw a look over your shoulder at him. βOh, what? Sheβs just doddling now, we have shit to do.βΒ
βYou need some sleep, youβre doing that thing again.β
βWhat are you talking about? What thing?β
βThe one where volume control goes out the window.β
The second statement from your witness turned up nothing new, as you had kind of expected, but you noticed something off about her this time around. She was nervous. Her story was straighter this time around, and she cleaned up details about the events, rescinding contradictory bits and pieces until the statement was airtight.
She was treating it almost like an alibi. Like there was something to prove. It just didnβt sit right with you, but she was a witness, not a suspect. Sure, you could have brought her back to the station and set her in an interrogation room and grilled her with Nanami until something came of it, but you had a feeling that nothing would come of it besides a burst of tears and a firm reminder about proper witness treatment from the inspector.
It was the last thing you needed, so you gave a slight bow, and left. Going around in circles with Nanami in the car, Kasumi surprised you a little by chiming in nervously every so often from the back. She was new, inexperienced, but getting fresh and eager eyes on tired information never hurts.Β
But again, as expected, nothing new really came of it. Just that the shift from uncertainty about the features on the figure she saw to absolution, seemed suspicious. But then again, the shock of seeing a dead bodyβa headless one at thatβmakes much aside from that difficult to remember. Maybe she was just recalling things more clearly now with time given to get thoughts together.Β
Maybe you were looking for loose threads to pull where none had come free. But then again, thatβs what made you good at your job. And maybe sometimes a little much.
Fuck, you hated this shit sometimes. There really was no winning.
Back at the precinct, Nanami told you heβd deal with the inspector, and to go home. You didnβt have the energy to argue, not much at least. So, you tidied up your desk a little and told him youβd be back after a shower and a catnap, and to make sure the geeks had a match on the hair sample by the time you got back.Β
As you grabbed a couple folders to take home for some light reading, your eyes gravitated towards the lab. Window unobscured with the blinds up, you saw Gojo working away at something involving the high-powered microscope. The lights dimmed slightly, and the bluish glow from his monitor cast a hue over his pale, defined features. Platinum hair shone silver, pushed back and held up by his glasses.Β
He frowned at whatever he was observing, slim pale brows upturned. He pulled back, biting his lip a little and studying the slide under the microscope like it would give him more information if he scrutinized it with eyes whose blue you swore could only be found on butterflies or flowers or tropical ocean waters.Β
Even his appearance was an enigma to you. But the perplexed look made him look kind of normal. Like even the perfect boy-wonder Gojo Satoru could be mystified by something.Β
You're hard on him. Maybe, just maybe, sometimes a little too hard. Sure, he was a weirdo, and he set off the feeling in your gut that only screamed at you when you were in the vicinity of something dangerous. But he'd never done anything solidly wrong. Just gave you glimpses of things that could glint at something more sinister, but you never saw that.
You've been looking for something, chasing something, that you had no hard proof existed. Maybe all that darkness you felt emanating from him, hanging around him like a cloud, maybe it was all just likeβ¦ depression, or something. Youβd been there before, hiding behind a mask to keep up appearances. Hell, you were feeling something similar now.Β
The bodies lately, the sobbing families, mothers who had to be told they'd outlive their daughters. Daughters who had whole, beautiful lives ahead of them, stolen by some psychopath who collected pretty faces framed by dark hair.
You'd been doing that a lot lately. Second-guessing yourself and your instincts. There had been too many cases like this one, where it just went on for too long. Some of them solved, the killers brought down and served up on a silver scale to the judicial system to lay down proper punishment. Something you felt could be harsher based on the horrors you've witnessed, but didn't contest because what else could you do? You'd done your job.
Some of them though, they haunted you. The killing stopped, the MO never picked up again, and it was like the killers just⦠vanished. You were grateful for that at least, but it meant they moved on. Got away with it, and were maybe even in another prefecture to play boogeyman there.
Your gut was usually bang on, but you've been wrong before. Maybe, just maybe, could you be wrong about Gojo?
The man in the lab rubbed his eyes with his forefinger and thumb, pinching the bridge of his nose before pulling his glasses back down to sit there, and looking up through the window.Β
You didn't look away; you met his immense blue gaze head-on just as you always did.
He smiled with a few too many teeth, waved once, and winked at you. Long pale lashes brushing a high cheekbone in a single flick that set your teeth on edge. It screamed, βI know something you don't.β
Nah.
There was something seriously wrong with this motherfucker.
The files dropped to your desk with a soft thud, and you marched toward the lab.Β
Gojo traded out the scrap of fabric under his microscope for a clear, flat slide with a print, and tucked the scrap in a drawer. He hit two keys on his computer, the monitor switched quickly to the DLC database, the page set to a window waiting for scanned print information to be input. Just in time for you to fling the door open without knocking.
βHey, sarge. How'd it go with that witness?β Gojo asked as you stood in the doorway, crossing your arms under your chest. Practically squishing your tits together and shoving them in his face. Cleavage peeked from the buttons undone on your shirt, but Gojo was a perfect gentleman and kept his eyes on yours.
You ignored his question and asked your own instead. Your eyes narrowed and already unimpressed as you looked him over, sitting hands in his lap. βDid you pull any matches from that hair sample?βΒ
βIt'll be hard, I know, but try to contain yourself.β Gojo grinned, turning slightly to snatch up a folder off a pile beside his monitor. βI not only got a match, but the guy is a real piece of work too.β You swiped it right out of his hand as he turned back to you, frowning as you flipped the front open to look for yourself. βGot sentenced to fifteen years on two counts of aggravated assault, rape, and abduction. The girls survived, but they matched the descriptions for the head hunter victims. Guess he escalated things once he got out of prison.β
βServed seven years and out on good behavior, my fucking ass.β You murmured, eyes darting around as you flipped through. Gojo hummed in agreement. βFuck me, he matches the witness description too.β
βOh? Well, let's hope he's still in town.β Gojo chirped, propping his elbows on his knees and leaning forward a little. Reading through the file, you were distracted and Gojo let his eyes glide over you fully once. Slow, appreciative.Β
God, you looked fucking great. Smart and sharp as a tack. That shirt hugged your tits perfectly, and he knew the moment you turned to walk out the door, he'd get a great view of your ass. Lips pushed together in concentration as you studied the pages, he wondered not for the first time what they'd look like in an βoβ with a moan spilling out. Your service weapon holstered at your hip made you deadly on top of it all.
Truly the perfect little package. Gojo almost felt guilty for deceiving you so much. But he didnβt.Β
What you didn't need to know, was that the piece of shit rapist he just handed to you, had absolutely nothing to do with all those headless girls.
But he was going to take the fall for it regardless. It all just kind of fell into his lap. Why not get attention off the real killer currently in nine pieces at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, get another scumbag thrown back in jail, and land you win with a huge case finally closed?Β
The witness was easy to convince, planting the DNA was a joke, he had early and backstage access to the scene, and bam! The perfect crime committed once again.
He was practically a fucking hero.
Well, maybe that's a stretch. Vigilante? Lame.
He was fucking good at this. That's what he was.
βHow long have you had this ready?β You set a hard look on Gojo and he hummed.
βMaybeβ¦ an hour?βΒ
βWhy am I just now seeing it?β You snapped, shutting the file and crossing your arms once again. βI've been right there for fifteen minutes.β
Gojoβs jaw set, barely a clench.Β
That was one thing you were. You were so fucking ungrateful. But you were oblivious to all he did for you, so he couldn't be upset.Β
Maybe one day you'd see, but that day wasn't here yet. You weren't quite ready to accept whatever Gojo was.Β
Definitely not, actually.
βSorry, sarge. I've been kinda busy in here.β Gojo shrugged, and you outright glared.
βWith what? What could possibly be more important than a suspect on this case?β
βUmβ¦ the five other homicides on my plate?β Gojo said slowly, as if it were the most obvious thing on the planet. Knowing full well he was just pushing buttons now.
You scoffed. βCheck your priorities, because you're wrong about that, Gojo.β Your arms dropped, and you put a hand on his desk, leaning into his space and boring your eyes into his. βIf we're too late and this fucker gets away because of your time management skills, I'll make sure that goes in the report, got it?βΒ
You wouldnβt be too late. He wasnβt going to get away because he wanβt even running. He had no idea what was coming for him. But Gojo feigned being sheepish and apologetic because he guessed that in your eyes, he fucked up.
βSorry, sarge, it won't happen again.βΒ
Your eyes took a slow trip down and back up over him, looking for something but not finding it, so you removed yourself from his personal space. Not that he minded you there. βBetter not.β
βI'll just give you a call next time.β He drawled, a lazy smirk on his lips as he slung an arm over the back of his chair.
βMm, please do.β It looked like it killed you to say those words, so you added a light, "That's what the damn thing is for after all.βΒ
βYouβre so right.β Gojo crossed a leg over the other, and cocked his head. βIβll be sure it gets put to good use.β
You didnβt say anything else, just took the folder, turned on a heel, and gave Gojo a great view of your ass as you marched out, leaving the door open. He sighed, pulling out the fabric from the drawer heβd stuffed it in to resume his side work.Β
God damn, you were so much work. But he always lived for a challenge. And he could take the backtalk and the pressure you loved to put him under when you served him up guys like Zenin Naoya almost like a sacrifice, heβd take anything you threw at him.
It was absolutely perfect. You put the Zenin guy away for a few years on some assault charges, and a grudge was born. No, something deeper than a grudge, like a personal vendetta. Something strong enough that heβd want to make you pay for βruining his life.βΒ
Fucking unacceptable. That the piece of shit would ever think he had the right or even could come close to you, take you for himself, hurt you. Gojo already had some⦠mildly violent tendencies, and something about the thought of another person, another man putting his hands on you just made the red he saw even bloodier.
Heβd never get the opportunity to get close to you. Not with Gojo around, he would always make sure of that. The Zenin worm would be in bags at the bottom of the Pacific before the sun rose.Β
Gojo glanced up through the window. You were talking with Nanami, flipping through the file as he looked from you to the turning pages.
Nanami wasβ¦ fine. He was a good guy, he looked out for youβnot that youβd ever need anyone but Gojo for that. He wasnβt a cop, he couldnβt be your partner out in the field or anything, so Nanami was probably the best of all the options you had. He just didnβt like the way Nanami looked at you sometimes. A little too lingering. A little more than just friendly affection in his eyes.
It was fine though. Nanami could be your partner in the field; he could help you with cases in the traditional senseβhe was definitely that kind of guy anywayβbut he could never do everything that Gojo did for you.Β
Nobody could ever do what Gojo did for you.Β
The neighborhood was near empty, typical forβGojo pulled the sleeve on his shirt back enough to check his watchβ10 PM. Cars lined the sides of the street, all your neighbors were home and settling in for the night, but not you, though. Youβd likely be out at the precinct all night again thanks to the suspect you picked up earlier.Β
How perfect was that timing? Almost like someone planned it all.Β
A familiar car pulled up, and Gojo watched as it parked a few spots up from him. Gojo had everything ready for tonight. He had all he needed confirmed to finally act, and youβd be gone all night.Β
It was perfect. A nice night for this, too. Cool enough that it wasn't too hot with a beanie covering his distinct and immediately recognizable hair.Β Left his glasses at home in favor of contacts in case of a brawl because he could never be too prepared.
Naoya would wait around for a bit, but being the impatient little fuck he was, heβd get bored once he realized you wouldn't be home and head to his usual spot; an izakaya a few minutes away, and get obliterated.Β
Tonight was the night, and everything was perfect.Β
Gojo couldn't help but smile a little as he took a long sip of an iced matcha latte, letting the sweetness of extra vanilla syrup roll over his tongue, savoring it. He usually would save a sweet treat for afterwards, but he just had to get a little something for the stakeout.
The driver door on the Zenin creeps car opened, and out stepped the worm himself, glancing around as he tucked something in the waistband of his pants behind him. Gojoβs smile dropped instantly.
What the fuck was he doing?
The door shut, and Naoya made his way up the street towards your house. A scowl pulled Gojoβs mouth down, and he jammed the drink back in a cupholder. He gripped the wheel to keep his hands occupied and off the door handle. The creep was about to break in. He was going to wait for you inside your house.
The thought made Gojoβs skin crawl; it made him yearn and itch to go knock the ugly fucker out right then and there before he had a chance to get into your space, to touch your belongings. But Gojo reminded himself with a breath that youβd be gone tonight. That it would be fine, and Naoya would get bored of waiting quickly and give up once he realized it was pointless to hang around. He would just come back another night.Β
Too bad he wouldnβt get another night.
It was fine. Seeing Naoya stalk around the side of your house and disappear from view, it kind of made him want to grab the hunting knife from his kit and slit the wormy fuck groin to sternum and gut him like the animal he was, but Gojo took another long and cooling sip from the iced sugary drink and reminded himself that it was fine.Β
It was the perfect night. He had it all planned down to a tee; one little setback wouldn't put the whole thing off course.Β
Gojo sat for an hour in his car, and Naoya stayed put in your house. He was more annoyed than seething at that point; he really wanted to hurry this up. It was the second night in a row heβd been out hunting, and he was running on fumes and sucrose and the warm, metallic stain he could still feel as it spattered his lips.Β
As he was about to check his watch again, headlights beamed in his side mirror. His eyes went to them immediately, knowing it was likely just a passerby using the residential area as a shortcut orβ
He jerked upright in his seat.
What the fuck were you doing here?
This was wrong. You werenβt supposed to be here. Why the fuck werenβt you still at the precinct? It was barely past 11 PM. If you were going home to change, he knew that wouldnβt happen until the early hours of the morning. So what the hell were you doing?
He didn't have time to analyze the why. You pulled into the spot right in front of your gate, and your car shut off. You were about to step right into the trap Naoya had set in your house. He had to do something, and fast. You couldnβt see him here, though, how the fuck was he supposed to do this?
God, you were so much fucking work. And of course, you couldnβt just make things a little easier by doing what you always did and just stay at the precinct all night. Tonight of all the fucking nights.
Did you want to die or something? Sometimes he wondered.
Gojo reached back and grabbed the small zippered case from under the backseat, and watched you walk up to your front door. He waited until you shut it behind you before you threw his own door open.
It had taken a lot of convincing, but with the suspect in an interrogation room and holding fast on total innocence and refusing to budge despite having him practically dead to rights, Nanami finally told you to leave. You could come back and join the action again after a brief rest and a shower. He assured you that heβd call if anything happened, but that youβd likely be walking into the exact same situation after a few hours away.Β
Nothing would happen while you were gone. It would be fine. You kept repeating it as you kicked off your shoes and flicked on the light in your hall, dropping your keys on the small table by the door.Β
The kitchen light flicked on and cast the area in a warm glow. Youβd get a bite to eat, shower, try your best to sleep for a few hours, then head back. Your fridge didnβt offer much aside from a box of takeout from a couple of nights ago, so you grabbed it and threw it in the microwave.Β
While it was heating, you made your way down the hall to your bedroom. A few photos of your family lined the walls, your academy graduation photo, the one withβ
You halted midstep. The photo with Nanami, the both of you in uniform, his hand on your shoulder as you wore the sergeant's shield for the first time with a small, proud smile, was crooked.Β
Maybe there was a minor earthquake in the area?
None of the other photos were off, but you drew it up to the hook potentially being loose, and straightened it, continuing down the hall and unbuttoning your shirt.Β
In your room, you placed your service weapon on your dresser and changed out of your work attire quickly. Slipping on a black and white Tokyo Metro Police Department shirt, a few sizes too big and softened from years of washing and wearing.Β
Your pants were off and around your ankles when you heard a creak in the hallway. Your head snapped up instantly, and you kicked off your pants, creeping out to check the dim hall.
Tip-toeing along the hardwood in an oversized t-shirt and panties, you felt almost like a horror movie damsel. It felt strangely eerie, and you thought for a moment about running back to your room to grab your service weapon, but before you couldβ
A figure stepped out. Dressed all in black, hair covered by a hood pulled up, face obscured by shadow, the person stood in your way at the end of the hall. Their hand moved, and you noticed the glint of light reflecting off metal. A gun.
Sure, you were a cop, a detective, but you werenβt impervious to fear. And that was exactly what ripped through you as the intruder took a quick step forward. Then another.
βWhat the fβstop!β You stepped back, almost stumbling over your own feet as you backed towards your room, towards where your gun was, and away from the intruder moving towards you. βI said stop! Right where youββΒ
Your words halted completely as your eyes found another figure behind the first. This one was moving faster though.Β
Fuck. There were two of them in your house. You had to get your gun, and fast. You started to turn around as the second intruder caught up to the first andβ
In an instant, the second person brought a hand up to the first's neck, and they both came to a halt.Β
βGotcha,β
The first intruder crumpled to the ground like a doll, and you stood in shock for a moment, staring at the man on the floor with your mouth hanging open.Β
What the fuck just happened?
Your head snapped up, back to the intruder still left standing. It all happened so fast, but as you looked a little harder at the second intruder, you felt your brain short-circuiting. You⦠recognized him. Well, you recognized the bit of hair that was uncovered by his hat.
Pure, abject horror crept in as he held his hands up, and stepped towards you.
βOh my fucking god.β You took a step back. You didnβt have your phone, you didn't have your gun. All you had was the short distance between you and Gojo, who was in your fucking house for some reason.
βOkay, okay, I know this looks kind of bad, but thatββ
βWhat are you doing here?!β You cut him off, still moving backward as he kept taking tentative, almost delicate steps toward you. Like he was approaching a wounded animal with its teeth bared.
He scoffed, shoulders dropping a little. βYou could say thank you. That guy was gonna kill you, you know that, right?β The light from behind reflected off of something in his hand. The same hand heβd brought the intruder down with.Β
It was a fucking needle.
βThank you? For what, breaking into my house? What are you even doingβ¦ here?β A realization settled in, and you barely breathed the word out. You almost couldnβt believe it. He said nothing, just cocked his head at you, like you were finally catching up to him.
Your eyes darted back and to the side. You could make a dash for it. Your room was right there, along with your gun and your phone. Gojo followed your eyes, and you both stood in silence, neither making the first move.Β
βSarge, let's justββΒ
You lurched for your room. Launching into a sprint and pushing off the door frame to dart inside. Heavy, fast footsteps ran after you. Your fingers grazed the dresser, your gun was in reach, but a hand twisted into your shirt, and yanked you back.Β
You swung around, hand flattened to hit him in the throat, but he ducked out of the way. Catching your arm and pulling you around so your back was to his chest.Β
You made a fist with your free hand and slammed him in the balls with it.Β
βNgh, fuck,β He gasped and groaned and hunched behind you, grip softening on your arm, and you tried to wrench free. But Gojo was bigger than you, and apparently, he was stronger too because his hand tightened fast and a thick bicep came up around your neck, pressing hard into your windpipe.Β
You fought for air, and got none as he squeezed tight and pulled you up, leaving your toes barely brushing the ground.
βAlways so fucking difficult,β He rasped into your ear, breath hot as his lips brushed the shell. You clawed at his arms, scratching the fabric of his shirt, and he hissed, his arm around your neck was near crushing. βI could kill you right now, so stop fighting or I will.β
Oxygen was running out, your head was getting light and airy, but that sent a hard shiver through you.
You were right. You had been right the whole time.Β
Gojo was a fucking psycho.Β
And now he was going to kill you.
What you didnβt know was that Gojo was bluffing. He definitely could kill you, but he wouldnβt. And definitely not like that, with your face turned away from his.Β
This was unreal, though. He knew it was bad, that heβd fucked up by letting you see his face, letting you see him at all. But you hadnβt really given him a choice; it was all because youβd come home early, so he may as well live in the moment and revel in feeling your body flush against his. His arms wrapped tight around you in a moment heβd only imagined for a long time, and here it finally was.Β
βSorry, Sarge, I didnβt want to do this.β It was a half-truth murmured in your ear as he felt you struggle and fight against him. Kicking and punching and scratching weakly until the last bit of air ran out, and your body slowly went limp as you lost consciousness in his arms.Β
Gojo loosened his arm around your neck and turned your face to him. The blood vessels around your eyes had burst, and little purple specks, almost like freckles decorated the skin. It was kind of cute. You even had a little furrow to your brow, he figured that was kind of a permanent thing for you.Β
βWhat the fuck am I gonna do with you?β He shifted an arm under your knees, and lifted you fully into his arms. Your head fell back, lips parting, and he looked over your sleeping, half-naked form as he strode back into the hall. Zenin Naoya was still in a pathetic pile on the floor.
βWhat a fucking mess.β Gojo grumbled, stepping over the creep in his way.Β
He was right. This was a fucking mess.
The ground beneath your feet was cold, like stone or cement. Your head throbbed, and as you pried your eyes open, the vision they took in was blurred.Β
You shifted, and found your arms were bound when you tried to pull them up to rub your face. It woke you the fuck up instantly, and you jerked upright. Blinking furiously to clear your eyes, your breaths started to come in shorter as you looked around yourself. You were sitting in a chair, hands tied behind the back of it. Your feet were unbound, still bare from the waist down.
Where the fuck were you?
What the fuck was going on?
βGood morning.β A familiar voice sing songed from across whatever room you were in, and your head snapped up to Gojo. You opened your mouth to speak, but barely rasped out what before you choked on it and coughed instead.
βAh, yeah,β He chuckled, looking almost sheepish as he rubbed the back of his head. βI was kind of hoping to use the M-99, but you didnβt give me much of a choice. Sorry.βΒ
You lurched forward, and your wrists stung as hard plastic bit into the skin. The room around you was sterile, plastic covered every inch of the floor and walls, and soft yellowish light shone from behind the sheeting. There was a table between you and Gojo, and something was atop it.
A man.
You cleared your throat and swallowed a few times. The movement was difficult, like an impossible lump was there to block your esophagus, but you forced it down and looked Gojo in the eye again.Β
His hands splayed out, palms flat on the table between you and leaning over the figure with a coy smirk.Β
βWhatβ¦ the fuckβ¦ have you done?β You rasped out, almost choking on the words again.
βWhat have I done?β He echoed, cocking his head at you. βWell, for one, I saved you from this guy.β He gestured to the man on the table. He seemed to be asleep still, not moving as Gojo waved a massive hunting knife over his laid out body. βThe least you could do is say thanks.βΒ
βThank you?β You cried incredulously, pulling hard at the restraint around your wrists. You wrenched and fought as panic started to creep in. βYou fucking psycho! You choked me out! HELP! HELP ME!β You screamed at the top of your lungs, as loud and as hard as you could with your windpipe still suffering the aftereffects of being closed off.
βGo ahead, scream your head off!β Gojo yelled back, βNobody can hear you.βΒ
βOh my god, I fucking knew it, fuck I knew it. Youβre insane,β Your head hung, pulling at the ties around your wrists as you murmured more to yourself, βfuck heβs crazy.βΒ
It's not like you wanted to be right, but you did feel a slight twinge of satisfaction being validated. You werenβt crazy, you saw it, and you were right.
βWhy did you come baββ
βAre you going to kill me?β You cut Gojo off, and he stared open-mouthed for a long moment, contemplating. Hesitating. βOh my god! Fuckfuckfuck, okay, you donβt have to do this, we canββ
βJust relax, I'm not going to kill you.β He waved the knife in his hand around, dismissing your panic with an annoyed eye roll. βI donβt kill innocent people, but I can't really say the same for this guy.βΒ
βWhat?βΒ
βDo you recognize him? You should.β Gojo took the man's head in his hand and turned his face to you. Dyed blond hair and dark brows, upturned eyes shut, sharp features and a few piercings on his left ear.
βIs thatβ¦ Zenin Naoya?βΒ
Gojo smiled and let Naoyaβs head drop back to the table. He was covered in a layer of plastic just like the room around you. Gojo strode around the table towards you, and you slumped back in the chair as he approached you, hunting knife still in hand. He crouched beside you and gestured to the wall of plastic to your right by Naoyaβs feet.
βSee those?β You followed the tip of his knife; there were a few photos of women, their faces bright and smiling. They all looked familiar; youβd definitely seen all of them at some point. βThey were found in ditches on the outskirts of Tokyo, their heads all bashed in. Same murder weapon used in all three unsolved cases.β
Of course, they looked familiar; their faces had been up on the board in the briefing room for months. Their cases eventually grew cold, and the precinct had moved on with no leads.
βThe only physical evidence we ever had was a fabric scrap found a few meters from the last body, barely even a few threads, and it never led anywhere. But,β Gojo whipped the knife back around, pointing it directly at Naoya with a wicked and satisfied grin on his face. βI found a shirt that matched it in a safe, in his apartment.βΒ
βWhyβ¦ why not hand over the evidence?β You felt you already knew the answer to the question, but you asked it anyway.
Gojo gave you a flat look in return. βThere's a few reasons for that, a couple of which you definitely already know.β He straightened up, standing tall over you. He put a hand on the back of the chair and leaned in close. βFirst, I didnβt obtain the shirtβ¦ legally, as youβd say. The evidence would be thrown out immediately, but you know that.βΒ
The tip of the huge knife pointed in your direction, Gojo dropped his head closer to yours, and your breath caught in your sore throat. βSecond, Naoya has held a bit of contempt for you for a while now, guess he didnβt appreciate you putting him away on rape charges a few years ago. Heβs been following you, and he was gonna act tonight if I didnβt stop him firstβso youβre welcome for that.βΒ
βAnd third,β Gojo sucked his teeth, pulling the knife away and backing out of your space, towards the table behind him. βIf I handed him over to the department, I wouldnβt get to kill him. Duh.β His icy blue eyes rolled like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
With a hard swallow, your mouth opened and out poured years of hostage negotiation training. βYou-youβre right, but you donβt have to do this, Gojo. Itβs not too late, if you just let-let me go, Iβll take Zenin in and Iβll make sure he goes away for a long time. We can do this the right way.β
βCome on, Sarge,β Gojo tipped his head to the side, amusement playing on his handsome features, glasses nowhere to be found and hair falling across his forehead. He looked so different than usual, almost sympathetic.Β
βWe both know that's a lie. Even if Naoya went away, it wouldnβt be for near long enough.β He twirled the knife in his hand, still looking at you as it spun in his fingers. βSometimes, the world just needs to be cleansed of its filth.β
You opened your mouth to try again, but Gojo cut you off. βJust stop, the cop talk-down doesnβt work when the subject knows all the tricks.β
Fuck.Β
You took Gojo in in full. He had on a butcher's apron over a black, long-sleeved compression shirt. Black latex gloves covered his hands. There was another table covered in plastic with a black mat atop it, and an assortment of blades gleamed, tucked neatly in each slot.
He was going to kill Naoya. With you right there.
βThis isn't the first time, is it?β You asked on a breath, almost a whisper, but Gojo heard, and he shook his head with a smile.
βThis wasnβt how I wanted you to find out, but I didnβt have much of a choice.β He sighed, walking back in your direction. A gloved hand came up, and your breath caught as he brushed your cheek. You jerked your head away, but he caught your chin and forced you to face him again. So close you could see each pale eyelash as his gaze flitted around your face.
βYou shouldnβt have come home. If youβd just stayed at the precinct like you were supposed to, none of this wouldβve happened. Too late for woulda, coulda, shoulda now though, right?β
A shiver shook through you. Incredulity twisted your features, and Gojo pouted. βOh come on, donβt look at me like that.βΒ
You swallowed hard. βLike what?β
βLike I'm some kind of monster or something.β His head tilted, lip jutting out still. βIβm just doing what you and the rest of the department canβt. Iβm on your side here, really.βΒ
βAre you looking for acknowledgement? A thank you or something?βΒ
He shrugged, βI wouldnβt say no to that.β
βYou broke into my house and choked me out, youβre a fucking psychopath.β You spat out, glaring.
βAfter you punched me in the dick,β Gojo scoffed, βand I didnβt really have a choice there because you were definitely going to shoot me.β
βNo shit! You broke into my house!β
βIβm not going in circles with you on this. I was there for a reason, and itβs because you canβt watch your own back for shit.β He let you go and walked back to the table where Naoya was somehow still passed out cold.Β
Your head was swimming, still fuzzy from the oxygen deprivation and the impossible scene you found yourself tied up in, literally.Β
There was no exit you could see, and Gojo had said no one would hear you scream.Β
You were kind of fucked. All you could do was watch as Gojo pinched something close to Naoyaβs face, and the man strapped to the table jolted awake with a gasp.
βWhat the fββ
βShut up,β Gojo cut Naoya off, gripping his cheeks hard and bringing his face close. βYouβve been very bad, havenβt you?β Gojo practically purred in Naoyaβs face. He took up the knife again and pointed it at the three photos on the wall, forcing Naoya to follow the tip of the blade. βEmiri Saito, Chieko Yamada, and Narume Kojima, look at them. You had the balls to take something from all of those girls, so have some fucking respect and look at them.βΒ
βWhat the fuck are you talking about? Who are you?β Naoya managed to get out with his face squished in Gojo's hand. βYouβve got it wrong, I-Iβve never seen any of them before!β
Gojo snorted, βYouβre such a bullshitter, Naoya. I think I speak for everyone here when I say that nobody is buying that.β
Naoya seemed to register the words, and he looked around frantically, his eyes finding you quickly.Β
βYou,β He hissed, βYou fucking bitch, you did this, didnβt you? Set me up again, you fucking cunt!β
Before you could refute or object, Gojo slapped Naoya hard. He grabbed him by the throat, squeezing tight enough to cut off air, and snarled in his face. βWatch your fucking mouth. Donβt even talk to her you fucking scum.β
Your already hammering heart kind ofβ¦ skipped?Β
Gojo tore his eyes off Naoya and met your gaze. The blue in his irises was brighter somehow, wide and wild and almost crazed, and your thighs squeezed together under the weight of it all. He chuckled, bearing a smile that flashed a few pearly teeth and fit with the look in his eye.
He was kind of right; what he was about to do wasnβt right, but he was doing what you couldnβt. If Naoya really was what Gojo saidβa killer, taking the lives of innocent young girls after heβd violated them, maybe he kind of deserved whatever Gojo was about to do.Β
You should have been more scared than you were. But you werenβt.
What the fuck was wrong with you?
βDid you like that?β Gojo asked, his voice low and rough.
Maybe.
βYouβre fucking crazy.βΒ
It wasnβt a no, and Gojo took note of that. He saw the shift in your posture, your knees as they pressed together.Β
Such a bad liar.Β
He clapped his hands, looking almost giddy as he took a breath. βHow exciting, I've never had an audience before. Iβll be sure to make this entertaining.βΒ
Entertaining was one way to put it; Gojo put on a fucking show alright.
Gojo had spent a few years in med school before joining the forensics unit at TMPD, and he was sure to flex the skills he learned on Naoya.Β
He went through a few packets of smelling salts, pushing Naoya practically to the brink of death, passing out a few times before bringing him back to consciousness.
It was messier than usual. Naoya was missing a few fingers; the few he still had were mangled. Shallow stab wounds littered his torso, only where the knife would miss vital organs. Deeper cuts severed tendons and ligaments, rendering Naoya immobile even without the plastic strapping him to the table.Β
The eyeball just popped right out with the optic nerve still intact; he pulled until it snapped. Naoya screamed and screamed like a little bitch and passed out again. He was still out cold, and Gojo had yet to wake him up again.
The blood was glorious. They were both covered; it dripped from Gojoβs hair, down his face, and back onto Naoya in a cycle of sorts, then to the floor to pool with the rest.Β
Naoya wouldnβt last much longer; it was time to finish this. Gojo tore his eyes off Naoya to look at you.Β
He thought you might have been sickened by it all, and you definitely looked like you might literally be sick a couple of times, but you held out. You looked away a few times and winced when you heard a bone crunch and a pathetic cry choke out.
βHow should I do it? Stab to the heart, slit his throat, sever the carotid artery and let him bleed out slowly? Ooh, I could cut his head off, but I did that with that last one.β
βWhy would you do all of this?β You asked, your voice sounded weak and small. It didnβt even sound like you, and his smile fell.
βBecause Naoya deserves to suffer. You know what happened to those girls,β He gestured to the photos with the bloodied knife, and his expression went cold. βHe wouldβve done the same to you, and I couldnβt let that happen.β Just the thought of it made him want to drive the knife home right then, but he held out. Heβd need to wake Naoya up first.
βDonβt you see? All of this,β He gestured around himself, down at Naoya still out cold. βItβs all because of you, to keep you safe from scum like him.β
βWhat happened to this being about your fucked up sense of justice for those girls? Donβt pin this on me.β You snapped, and Gojoβs smile returned.Β
That's more like it.
βIβm not blaming you. Naoya wouldβve ended up here regardless of whether he went after you or not. But he did, and Iβm feeling quite passionate because of it.βΒ
Your eyes widened a fraction, like you were just now realizing the extent of things. The things he would do for you, like you hadnβt just witnessed it all.
Gojo cracked a fresh pack of salts and held it to Naoyaβs face. βWake up, asshole, weβre not done yet.β The man startled and whimpered as consciousness returned, and he felt the full extent of his wounds all over again.
βWhat do you think, sweetheart? Should I put him out of his misery?β Gojo cocked his head, and Naoya glanced at you with one remaining eye.Β
He started to gurgle, βFuck yββ The words cut off abruptly as the blade in Gojoβs hand carved through his throat with a roar.
βI told you not to fucking talk to her!β Fresh crimson spattered his face from the slit gaping wide on Naoyaβs neck.Β
Gojo looked like a fallen angel, something horrifically biblical and cast from heaven as he heaved ragged breaths. Rage twisted his face, his eyes wide and the whites and blues burned bright against the deep, bloody red that splattered the rest of his face.
He groaned a low, βFuck.β And ran a hand through his hair, streaking the stark white strands a bright red. He looked up from Naoyaβs lifeless body to you, and your breath caught.Β
Still holding the knife and covered in Zenin Naoya's warm blood, Gojo stepped around the table and walked to you. You shook from the cold and something deep in your gut, like fear, swallowing hard as your head tilted back to look at Gojo.
He grabbed the back of the chair and tipped you backward. Your bare feet left the ground as Gojo loomed over you, his face close enough that you felt the heat of his breath on your lips, saw the individual specks of blood that decorated his face like freckles.
βIβd do anything, fucking anything for you. You understand that now, right?βΒ
Your mouth opened to respond, but no words could make it up and out of your throat because warm lips wet with fresh blood pressed hard to yours.Β
You didnβt move. You couldn't move.Β
You had been trained to deal with hostage situations and knew what to do in theory if you were ever in one yourself, but nothing could have prepared you for something like this.Β
What the fuck were you supposed to do when your captor kissed you?
Probably not kiss them back. Right?
Blame it on adrenaline, the numbness of watching someone be tortured and killed, and maybe a few brain cells dying thanks to the headlock Gojo himself had you in a few hours ago, but his mouth on yours didnβt feel terrible.Β
It felt kind of⦠good?
Gojo was a psychopath. A confirmed killer. As a cop, you should have been thinking of any way to get out and get him detained, bring him to justice.
But as a captive, and the object of his twisted, fucked up affectionβ¦
Iβd do anything for you.
Your lips parted, and you kissed him back.
What the fuck else could you do here, really? You really hated it, but youβd always found him attractive. Even being covered in blood and holding a knife didnβt detract from that.
In a perverse way, it was kind of flattering. Horrifying, of course, but maybe youβd been desensitized to all this shit from so many years of investigating brutal murders, seeing the bodies yourself, because what Gojo had done right before your eyes didnβt make you as sick as it should have.
He was right. Naoya was scum. And now he was gone, and Gojo did it for you. It was wrong and illegal, so fucking illegal, but heβd done what you and the law couldnβt. Served up justice with a blade, and now Zenin Naoya would never hurt another girl again, and that was certain.
Fuck. You should really stretch before doing mental gymnastics. Maybe you could blame it on Stockholm syndrome, too.
The taste of pennies and something sweet like vanilla hit your tongue as it met Gojoβs. A slick, gloved hand gripped your thigh, the knife pressed flat to your skin under his wide palm. It was still warm, too.
Gojo almost couldn't believe it. It was impulsive, the high of a fresh kill left him up in the clouds, and there you were, tied up and half naked and wide-eyed, and he just did it. Kissed you without expecting anything in return because he couldnβt stop himself.
But you were kissing him back.Β
Heβd shown you the deepest, darkest part of him and expected disgust in return. Notβ¦ this.
Maybe you were more fucked up than he thought.Β
You still trembled a little, but you didnβt pull away as his hand glided up on your thigh, streaking blood on your skin. Blood he spilled for you.Β
Gojo pulled back just enough to look you in the eye, to see the blood smeared on your lips. βYou liked it, didnβt you, sweetheart?β You shook your head, but you were squirming in your seat. βDonβt even try to fucking lie to me.β
βWhat are you going to do to me, Gojo?β It came out breathless, pitched, and almost desperate, like you were thinking of all the things he could do to you, that you couldnβt stop him from doing.
He laughed and tilted his head a little, βWhat do you want me to do to you, sergeant?βΒ
βI-I donβtβ¦β You trailed off, your eyes flitting away for a moment. Gojo dropped his head, and your nose brushed his. He pulled his hand from your leg, and the tip of the knife caught the hem of your shirt.
βTell me when to stop, I might.β He smirked, and slowly lifted the blade in hand, pulling your shirt up with it. You looked panicked as your shirt went up over your panties, cute and black with a pretty lace trim. But you said nothing, just breathing hard and fast with eyes impossibly wide as he exposed more of your stomach.
What were you doing? You should say it, say stop and hope to god that Gojo would. But you didnβt. You said nothing as the tip of that huge knife dragged lightly over your sternum, up between your breasts, staring silently at Gojo as his eyes lowered.
Cold air hit your breasts, your nipples pebbled with the cotton barrier removed, and you finally spoke.Β
βLet me go.β You whispered, but it wasnβt stop, and Gojo looked you in the eye again.
βYou know I canβt do that.β The knife halted close to your neck, the blade pressed to your skin just under the collar of your shirt. βTell me what you really want, and donβt lie this time.β
You stayed silent, lips pressed together almost as hard as your thighs were.Β
What the fuck was wrong with you? Your body was committing the ultimate betrayal; heat was pooling low in your gut despite how you shivered against the cold. It had been a while since youβd had time for a relationship or even just a hookup, and Gojo had just lit up something that demanded satisfaction after being long ignored.
Why now?Β
Was your own sex drive going to be the thing that got you killed?
Gojo let the back of the chair go, and the feet slammed to the floor with a bang that made your teeth clack. He flipped the knife around fast, and the blade tore through your shirt with a loud rip.Β
You inhaled a sharp gasp, and Gojo chucked quietly. βOops, I slipped.βΒ
He was always like that. A teasing little shit, and it always irked you, and the irritation broke you from the silence youβd been holding. βAre you a fucking animal? Why not just take it off?!βΒ
Gojo seemed a little taken aback by the outburst; you were too actually. But he recovered quickly and scoffed, lifting a pale brow. βWell, you didnβt tell me to take it off. Donβt get pissy because youβre too chicken shit to say what you want.βΒ
The knife dragged down your stomach, leaving a thin red trail in its wake. Stopping only once he reached the waistband of your panties, the tip hooked in and caught the lace.Β
βShould I cut these off too? Or will you use words like a big girl?βΒ
βFuck you.βΒ
Gojo gripped your face with his free hand, and he sneered. βWatch it. I like you, but donβt push your luck here.β He was close enough again that his lips brushed yours as he whispered the next words that sent a fresh jolt of lightning up your spine. βYouβve seen what I do when Iβm pissed off, so be careful, sweetheart.β
He kissed you again, still holding your face in place as his tongue pushed into your mouth. It must have stolen rational thinking from you, because you kissed him back again instead of biting his tongue like you probably should have.
Gojoβs hand left your face, but you didnβt take the opportunity to turn away. No, for some reason, you angled your head, leaning into it more and more. It felt too good for the situation you were in, but maybe that was what made it impossible to pull away from. The electricity that sparked with each flick of his tongue against yours, the danger that lurked in his lips, so pretty and warm and nice sliding against yours with little chuβs.
Something cold and hard pressed to your temple, and clicked. Gojo smiled against your mouth. You knew the sound well, and your eyes flew open with a gasp, breaking the kiss.
βTell me, sweetheart. Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you, or Iβll pull the trigger and do it anyway.β
βOh my god, what the fuck is wrong with you?β You whimpered, and only received the cold steel of the barrel of your own gun pushing into your temple harder, and a manic grin in return.
βA lot, you shouldβve realized that by now. Say what you want, donβt think I won't do it.β
He was still covered in the blood of a man heβd brutally killed right in front of you; you had no doubt heβd pull the trigger.
Fear filled your wide eyes, glassy with unspilled tears you were holding back. It looked so good on you. He wanted you to shake and cry and beg almost as much as he wanted you to admit the truth.Β
Gojo usually just dealt with the body and grabbed a sweet treat after dispatching a killer, but he had the feeling youβd taste better than any dessert.Β
Your eyes darted from his, to the gun in your periphery, wide and panicked. Your chest rose and fell fast. You were struggling, trembling, and overwhelmed by the shift and thinking your life hung by a thread, easily severed by one little twitch of his finger.
He wouldnβt do it like that, though. Not with a bullet to your head, that was so impersonal, and not his style.
You hated this feeling. Fearing for your life and for some reason still not pulling away from the person threatening it. It was like nothing youβd ever felt before; your skin burned hot despite the cold with your shirt bisected and hanging open. The gusset of your panties was slick and sticky, and you kept your legs squeezed shut to keep it hidden.
Had you ever thought about Gojo like that before? Maybe β¦yes.Β
Were you thinking about his hands on your body, what his cock was like, and what it would feel like if he fucked you right now? That was a shameful maybe.Β
Would you ever admit that without your life on the line? Probably not.
But it was. Gojo literally had a gun to your head. You had to say it, right?
You took a deep, shaky breath and swallowed. βYouβre fucking crazy, Gojo. But I-I want you.β
Something like surprise flickered in his eyes, almost like he hadnβt expected you to actually say it. But you didnβt get a moment to analyze it. Gojo slammed his lips to yours. It was bruising and desperate, and the barrel dropped from your temple, dragging cool steel down the side of your face, down your neck to press up under your jaw.
You probably would have done it anyway, but he forced your chin up and your head to tilt, deepening the kiss you could already barely breathe around.
The knife at your hip moved, and you heard another rip.
You groaned into Gojoβs mouth and pulled back a little. βWhat the fuck, I saidββ
βI felt like it.β He murmured, cutting you off and putting his lips back on yours. The knife clattered on the ground, and Gojoβs fingers curled into the waistband of your panties and yanked. They tore like fucking paper and left you exposed.
He pulled the gun away from your jaw and used both hands to pull your legs apart. You didnβt fight it. Your mind was melted and spinning, and you didnβt even try to close your legs when two fingers glided along your slit. Gojo swallowed the moan that spilled from your lips, then pulled his tongue from your mouth and broke the kiss. A lewd, pinkish string of saliva still connected your wet lips to his.
βWere you this wet when you denied liking getting to watch me kill Naoya? Bet you were, a liar and a slut.β He tskβd and slid two thick fingers still wrapped in slickened latex, into your cunt, watching closely as your face contorted.Β
Your brows turned up, lips parting a little as a quiet βOhh,β escaped.Β
Fear looked good on you, but that was the face Gojo had been dying to see. The one you made as he fucked you nice and slow on his hand. Savoring the sounds that spilled from your lips every time he pushed in deep and the way you gripped around him when he curled his fingers.Β
Gojo kept going until he finally hit a spot and pressed up, and you gasped, legs trying to clamp shut around his hand. He didnβt bother forcing them back open; he just put the muzzle of the gun under your chin again, and your eyes went wide. He didnβt miss the way your cunt twitched and pulsed with your own gun put to your head.
βAh, keep them open.β You obeyed, legs falling open again. You bit your lip and let your chin be pushed up when he nudged with the muzzle. Gojo pressed his cheek to yours, letting his lips brush your ear as he spoke. βI've never seen you like this, so obedient. I didn't even think you could go thirty seconds without barking at me like a bitch.β
Your vision unfocused, and your eyes almost rolled as Gojo pulled his hand back, and pushed back inside with a third thick digit. The muzzle pushed your head up again, and you felt Gojoβs teeth on the side of your face as he smiled.
βYou like this though, don't you? Like being held on the firing end of your own loaded service weapon with the safety off?βΒ
A whimper left your mouth, and you barely registered the feeling of steel dragging down your chest over Gojo nipping at your ear. Your mind was splintering a little more with every thrust of three fingers into your cunt that seemed to get faster.Β
So suddenly, you almost choked on the spit pooling in your mouth. Gojo's hand pulled away, and cold metal pushed into you instead. Your legs closed on instinct, and Gojoβs now free hand pulled them open again.Β
βTch, if I want to fuck you with this thing, I will.β His tongue traced the shell of your ear. The cold muzzle glided through your folds easily with the slick still drooling from your hole. βWould you like that? Would you scream and cry and shake and come all over it like a slut?βΒ
The cold, thick barrel barely pushed inside. It felt perverse. The metal felt wrong, unforgiving and alien, and so fucking wrong.Β
Dehumanizing, you felt like something was being stripped from you with each centimeter of your own service weapon that your cunt was forced to stretch around. Tears that had been held back up until that point broke free and spilled over.Β
Your own body was betraying you again. Your rational mind knew you should object, knew that you should have tried to stop all of this before it got out of hand.Β
But you didnβt. And now you were getting fucked with your own gun by a killer still coated in the blood of his latest kill, the one he did for you, and it felt wrong but not bad, and that fact splintered the rest of your mind.Β
You were supposed to be able to deal with situations like this, ones where your life was on the line and it was you and your experienced mind versus whatever crazy had decided to take you on.
But Gojo was different. He wasn't just another crazy. He was smart and calculating and psychotic. He'd planned for this, all while you should have seen it coming, but didn't.Β
You knew there was something wrong with him, but you never saw him coming. And now, you were trembling, biting your lip hard to keep a pathetic noise in your throat as the last few centimeters of cold steel were shoved inside you.Β
The tears streamed down your flushed cheeks, burning from shame at the way your hips shifted around with the barrel stilled inside you.Β
βI've never seen you cry before,β Gojo marveled as he looked you over. βYou're even prettier than I had imagined.β You hated the way you leaned into his palm as he cupped your face and brushed a thumb through the wet tracks.Β
His voice was sweet like saccharine honey and at complete odds with how he pulled the barrel out halfway and pushed back in. βBe good and make lots of noise when I make you come, sweetheart. I've been dying to hear what you sound like.βΒ
You could feel every cold ridge and edge of the barrel as it dragged slowly in and out, so deep that the trigger guard pushed into your clit and made you jolt. It felt purposeful, like Gojo wanted you to feel every little bit of it, wanted you to sit and squirm and take it as he fucked you with the most deadly inanimate object a person could encounter.
Your face was something Gojo had never even imagined. Better than anything his own mind could've created. Contorted in pleasure and fighting it hard. Cheeks flushed a deep red, lashes wet and clumped together as more tears spilled. Like you hated that you liked it, maybe even loved the way it felt.Β
He was torn. Watching you twitch and jerk and fight your own body from doing what it really wanted was beautiful, and he didn't want to stop until you couldn't hold it back any longer. He didn't want to stop until you broke by his hand and gushed around the cold steel barrel.
But on the other hand, he wanted to feel it himself. He doubted you'd object, you'd probably welcome the replacement of cold metalβthat was probably still shockingly cold compared to how hot your cunt wasβwith his dick.Β
But the desire to watch you fall apart and shatter first outweighed the need to stick his dick in you. Just barely.
Your lip trembled, your eyes were far off somewhere else and glassy, darting around the room behind Gojo. They landed on something and went round, your breath caught, and you hiccuped. You looked at Gojo again, fear and pleading in your blown pupils.
βP-please,β Your voice cracked on the word. He had never seen or heard you like that, never thought you even could beg or whine like that.
He brushed your cheek again with a thumb, wiping the fresh wetness that fell. βPlease what, sweetheart?β He never stopped the movement of his hand, still savoring the way he could feel your cunt gripping the barrel.Β
You whimpered, βPlease, fuck, I-I can'tβI can'tβ¦ fuck,β You couldnβt even finish the sentence, biting down on your quivering lip. You were writhing, chest heaving, and he finally realized thatβ¦
You were about to come, and you hated it.Β
βYou can, just stop fighting it.β He pulled your lip from between your teeth with his thumb.
He tore his eyes off your mouth, still stained red, looking like youβd been wearing lipstick before he came and fucked it up.Β
βGive in to me, I promise you'll feel so fucking good. I'll make sure of it.β Gojoβs lips brushed yours, not a kiss, not yet. He had to hear you say it. Say yes and let go, let him make you see stars and forget how fucking wrong what you were doing was, and just give in to how right it felt.Β
You were right there, dangling on the precipice of breaking. Your eyes glazed, lashed fluttering as you held his gaze and whispered his name.Β
βGojo, please.β The sound of you begging, pleading him. Uttering his name like some kind of broken prayer that could save you from what was happening, what was about to happen.Β
It was so unbelievably easy, you made it so easy. Just dripping slick arousal and the barrel slid through your cunt. It was a mess. You were a mess, and the sounds of your pussy squelching and sucking the barrel back inside were obscene.
Your jaw dropped a little more but no sound came out, and Gojo sent the command into your open mouth. βDo it,βΒ
Your body tensed, he felt it. Your eyes started to roll, losing focus and your legs shook. You were still fighting it.Β
βIβd do anything for you, I'd fucking kill for you, so come for me.β Gojo gripped the back of your head, fingers tangled in your hair. Your glassy eyes were on his, the look that bore through him was there but it was like you were finally seeing behind the curtain. His lips were on yours as he poured the words heβd held back for years right into your mouth.Β
βJust give in, let me break you. Iβll be yours forever."
Legs shaking, your hips lifted. Spine arching into a bow, chest pushed up and your head dropped back into his hand. Looking like a fucking angel in a tattered black t-shirt as you finally let go. A pretty moan spilled right into Gojoβs mouth as the tether holding restraint snapped, and you broke.
Wrong. It was wrong how disgustingly good it felt. The heat that coiled and tightened and wrapped through your entire body finally freed, you heard the sounds that came from your own mouth and almost couldnβt believe it. Guttural and unrestrained, your wrists stinging as sharp plastic bit into your skin and drew blood with every shift and pull.Β
Gojo kissed you again and you let him in without a fight. Still tasting of warm metal, like sucking on coins after being held in hand. It was filthy. Tasting the blood of one man while you were kissing another. Your walls pulsed and gripped around the barrel as Gojo fucked you through the mind melting orgasm, pulling your hair and holding your head back to him as you saw stars and felt them bursting through you.
The last waves shuddered through and you twitched as he pulled the barrel out and left you empty. Breaking from your mouth with another filthy string of saliva tying you together.
He bought the slick coated barrel up to his face, holding it upside down, pinky resting on the trigger. Safety off, hammer cocked. One slip of that finger, and youβd have been bleeding out.Β
It shouldn't have been so hot. You shouldnβt have shivered at the sight of Gojo, blood streaked in his hair and spattered on his face, sticking his tongue out to lick the full length of the barrel. Pale lashes fluttered, moaning as he tasted you on the steel.Β
βIβd love to let you hold it while I suck this thing clean,β Gojo waved your gun and winked, βBut I get the feeling youβd pull the trigger if I did.β His tongue glided up the barrel again and flicked over the muzzle.
You swallowed hard, and countered with, βTake the bullets out then.β
He seemed to contemplate it, head tipping to the side as he tapped the muzzle to his lips. βHmm, but Iβd have to cut those straps.β
βIs that a bad thing? I could touch you, donβt you want me to?β You bit your lip, angling your head a little with the doe-iest eyes you could summon. Gojoβs jaw clenched, gaze growing heavy under thick, pale lashes. It only lasted a moment before he licked his teeth and a wicked smile spread in its stead.
βThink youβre smart? Sorry, sweetheart, that wonβt work.β
βI want to touch you, Gojo.β You pouted, it wasn't a complete lie.Β
βSatoru,β He corrected, gently but firmly. βWeβre past formalities now, donβt you think?βΒ
You pulled forward, as far as you could with your arms behind the chair, bringing your face closer to him. βLet me touch you, Satoru.β
Fuck. Maybe he shouldnβt have said that.
So pretty, and catching onto the fact that you could ask just about anything of him and heβd do it. You looked like a trap, like the moment he took the bait, steel would clamp around his hand.Β
Gojo knew restraint, he could wait and be patient and bide time. But he had limits. That bait was you, squirming around barely covered by that bisected shirt, thighs glistening and slick. Eyes wide and pleading and fucking needy. Looking at him like you needed him.
βYouβre not getting the gun, loaded or not.β Gojo straightened, stepping around the chair to stand behind you. He grabbed your chin, tilting your head back to look up at him. βTry anything, and my finger might slip.βΒ
Acknowledgement came in a slow nod, lip caught between your teeth. Gojo lowered his face to yours, pulling your lip free with his thumb. βVery good, remember that, sweetheart. Iβd hate to do it, but I won't hesitate to snuff you out.β
Gojo kept the gun in hand as he snapped the bloodied zip tie around your wrists, breaking the plastic at its weak point and your shoulders sagged as your arms were freed. He straightened again and watched you closely as you rubbed your wrists.Β
You were free, you could run right now. Instinct made you itch to leap to your feet and dash for the closest exit.Β
Too bad you had no idea where that was, and Gojo would catch you before you could figure that out for yourself.Β
Looking around, you saw the knife near your feet. If you lunged for it, youβd get a bullet to the head.Β
Gojo could see the gears turning in your head. But you were fucked here. Even if you got out you'd be running into practically the middle of nowhere being on the far outskirts of Tokyo.Β
He pulled the tie on the butchers apron free and tossed it aside, moving to stand in front of you again. You lifted your eyes to his, hands in your lap and idle.
βStand up,βΒ
You definitely werenβt running anywhere, your legs still trembled a little as you rose to your feet. You took a tentative step forward, bringing yourself close enough to feel the heat of Gojo's body through the clingy black shirt. Eyes trained on his, you reached out with one hand to glide over his wide chest, and down.
A sigh left his pretty, full lips as your fingers curled into the waistband of his dark pants. His shirt had ridden up a little and you could see the lines that curved along his hips and dove down, your fingers brushed through a trail of soft hair, bright white just like the mess of it on his head. He tensed when you touched him, biceps flexing, but he didnβt stop you.Β
Silently, you lowered to the ground. Your knees hit the hard ground and plastic crinkled quietly. The only other sound was heavy breathing as both hands moved to pop the button on his pants open.
Gojo took your chin in his gloved hand and lifted your face up to him. βIs this what you want?β
Your lip caught again and you hummed. βMhm,β
Gojo pulled it free again, and slipped his thumb past your teeth, into your mouth to press down on your tongue. βNo biting.β He winked. You nodded, opening the closure on his pants. The knife was just to the left of your leg, it was in reach, but the second you moved youβd get a bullet to the head.Β
Distract him.
Thatβs all it was. The saliva pooling in your mouth, the slick dripping down your thighs. You ignored that. Ignored how wet you were getting and how heat coursed through you as you pulled his boxers low and freed his cock.
Of course it was pretty too. Pale with a little curve, blushing tip beading pre-cum from the slit. Long and thick enough that you could just wrap your hand around the base because of course heβd have a big dick too.Β
It was always the fucking nerds.
Gojo jolted a little and a pitched noise like a whine caught in his throat as your hand twisted up the length of his cock, and your thumb brushed his tip. Spreading the pre-cum that just kept leaking.
His thumb left your mouth, gliding over your lips, wetting them with your own spit.
βWant me to be gentle, sweetheart? Or should I fuck your face?β He asked, breathless and cheeks already flushing pink under the spatters of crimson.
You shook your head, pumping his cock slowly. βI donβt want gentle, Satoru.βΒ
He slapped you. Hard. Your head snapped to the side and you choked on a gasp as your cheek started to sting.
You said it. So he was going to deliver.Β
His hand tingled from the impact and his cock throbbed as he watched you recover from shock. Taking your chin in hand again, he gripped hard and turned you back to face him.
Your body was as masochistic as Gojo was sadistic and your cunt drooled, the heat on your cheek from the slap was everywhere else too.Β
He did it again, palm flat as it connected to the same cheek just as hard and your head snapped to the side with a little less force. Like youβd prepared for it that time. Your jaw clenched but it didnβt stop the whimper from coming out. Your thighs shook and rubbed together, sliding easily with the slick that smeared.Β
Gojo almost did it again when you lifted your face to him all on your own. But the look you gave him made him falter a little. Brows turned up, lips glossy and parted, bright red deepening on your cheek, and your eyes. Fuck. The need in your eyes almost brought him to his knees. Tears gathered and ready to spill, about to fucking cry all over again.Β
He wanted those tears to fall when you choked on his cock.
βWhat a slut.β He crooned as your lip trembled, βRemember, sweetheart. Bite me, and Iβll put one between your eyes and keep going till I come.βΒ
Looking horribly angelic with a smile that was pure and sweet, Gojo spewed vile filth that made your heart kick at your ribcage, and your core flood with heat.
Wrong. There was something seriously wrong with you. Because you nodded and, and opened your mouth wide.
His fingers thread into your hair, holding tight but he didn't pull or guide you, just held as you licked the drip of pre-cum off the tip of his cock. Tasting salt and sweetness on your tongue. He sucked a sharp breath in through clenched teeth as your lips closed around him.Β
The sounds he made were pretty and pornographic and matched the look on his face as your lips stretched around the thickness and he hit the back of your throat. Pulling back, your tongue traced a prominent vein along the underside and he moaned again. Pale brows knit together, the baby blue of his irises rendered to a thin ring with the wide black of blown out pupils.Β
You couldnβt help but think he looked so pretty like that. With his lip caught in his teeth, blood streaked his brilliantly white hair pink, pieces of it fell into his face, across his eyes and framing his face.
Iβd do anything for you.
Iβll put one between your eyes and keep going till I come.
It was a shame he was such a nut.
Your eyes went wide and you choked as he tightened the hand in your hair and thrust into your mouth, shoving almost all the way in. He groaned deep in his throat and his cock pulsed in yours. Tears pricked your eyes and fell as you blinked.Β
The hand in your hair held your head in place as he started to fuck your throat. Your eyes rolled, hand dropping away to your side as control was taken from you. βLike that, huh? Fuck, youβre so filthy. Such aβmnnhβsuch a slut.βΒ
It went right to your aching cunt, pulsing around nothing. Throbbing with Gojoβs cock hitting deep in your throat, forcing you wide open to him as he held your head and fucked your face. Drool dripped down your chin, so much it trailed down your neck in lewd streaks.
Your mind was splintering again as your nose buried in the soft, fluffy hair. Lashes fluttering as your eyes rolled and you gagged.Β
βOhh my fucking god,β Gojo moaned loud, his head flew back and your objective snapped back into place. You moved, reaching to your left and your fingers closed around the handle of the huge hunting knife.
Gojoβs grip tightened, your scalp stung.Β
The tip of the knife barely pushed into his side before steel pressed to your temple again.
βGotcha,β
Fuck.Β
The blade pricked and cut into his side, the tip of it broke skin and was pushing in between his ribs. You gave him a weak glare, throat tight and still choking on his cock with the muzzle of your gun to your temple.
He was close already, balls tight and abs clenched to hold himself back. But that sight alone pushed him right over the edge.Β
He grunted a βFuck,β and his hips stuttered. Your eyes went wide and you blinked furiously as his cock kicked in your mouth, and he spilled hot cum down your throat. βDonβtβnghβdonβt fucking look at me likeβughβlike that,β He muttered through clenched teeth, shoulders drooping and panting.
βThink youβre sneaky, huh?β He asked, catching his breath as he pulled your face away. You gasped for air and coughed when his cock pulled from your throat. Holding the knife that cut into his ribs. He held the gun to your head as you recovered. βSaw that one coming the second you got on your knees, sweetheart.βΒ
βFuckβ¦ you,β You choked out with a glare.
Gojo gripped your arm and hauled you up to your feet. The knife pulled from its spot between his ribs and moved to his throat quickly, blade pressed to a critical vein. The muzzle of the gun went under your chin.Β
He held your naked body to his, his face amused as he asked, βSo, what now?βΒ
You searched his face, lips puffy and glossed with spit. Your cheek still bright red from the slaps.Β
You lurched forward, and kissed Gojo, lips pressing to his hard.
It caught him a bit off guard, but he got his shit together quick and wrapped an arm around your waist. Your head tipped and your arm went over his shoulder, fingers threading up through his hair. The other still holding the blade to his neck.Β
The muzzle of your gun stayed pressed to your temple as Gojo walked you backwards until you hit a wall covered in plastic. Your mouths clashed, short breaths hot and mingling together as your tongues tangled and slid together.Β
He pinned you to the wall with his body, hard chest pressed to yours.Β
Gojo lifted his face away and pulled the latex glove off his free hand with his teeth, tossing it to the floor. His mouth found yours again and he gripped and squeezed along your body. Your spine arched, pushing your breast into his bare hand as he pinched and rolled your nipple.Β
You moaned into his mouth. His hips pushed forward, to you. Cock already hard again and pressed to your stomach.Β
Wrong. So, so wrong. How badly you wanted it. How twisted and dangerous and fucking hot it was with a gun to your head and a blade to his throat.Β
Maybe you were a nut too.
Gojo slid his hand down to your thigh, lifting your leg to the side. You pushed up on your toes to get yourself a little closer to his height.
βSay it,β He murmured to you.Β
You were aching, doing everything but begging for it at that point.Β
βFuck me,β It was a whisper of a plea into Gojoβs mouth and it made him smile. That youβd finally admit it, admit that you wanted him. For real this time. The cards were all out in the open, no sneaky blade was about to stab into his vitals because it was already at his throat.Β
βAnything you want,β He glanced between you, βGive me a hand, sweetheart. Mine are a little full,β He tapped the muzzle to your temple lightly with a smirk.
The hand in his hair dropped, gliding over his broad shoulder. Down his chest, you felt every line and dip and defined muscle of his abs. Your eyes lowered to follow to trail down, and you gripped his cock. He took a sharp breath, eyes trained on your face as you bit your lip and slid the tip of his cock through your folds.Β
Long fingers dug into your thigh, gripping hard as you lined him up to your drooling hole. The heat of your cunt was driving him fucking crazy, and he wasnβt even inside you yet.Β
You looked up again, lip in your teeth, and he drove his hips up.Β
Your face contorted, nose scrunching as your pussy struggled to take the thick intrusion. The blade at his throat trembled as you cried out, clenching around Gojoβs cock as he pushed halfway in and stilled.Β
Fuck. You were so fucking tight.
Heβd imagined something like this before, but nothing, not the vision his head fed him to pump his cock to, no other person, nothing could ever come close to being buried in you.
Gasping for air, gripping his shoulder and bunching the fabric of his shirt in your fist as you trembled on his cock. Stilled halfway in, every little twitch and pulse of your cunt made his breath come short.Β
βFuckβ¦β You whimpered as his lips touched yours again. βGojo, I canβtββ
βSatoru,β He reminded, βIβm literally inside you, sweetheart.β He groaned and pushed into you deeper, βYou can take it all, right? Make it fit like a good girl, yeah?βΒ
You whined, shaking on tip toes. βDonβt fucking call me that,βΒ
βWant me to call you a slut instead?β He grinned, breathing hard and pulling out to shove back in deeper. βWhat if I called you mine?β
You shut him up with another kiss. He licked into your mouth like a claim, branding you with his hot tongue and his cock buried so deep it felt like he was in your guts already. The stretch burned and took your breath, pain and adrenaline made it melt into pleasure that you craved more of.
Fucking into you steadily, you felt every vein that dragged through your walls. The angle had him push into a sweet spot on every thrust into you.Β
Moans and heavy breathing and obscene squelching echoed off the plastic as he fucked you up against the wall, holding you open to him with the muzzle still pressed to your head.
βYouβre mine, you understand that now, right?β Gojo murmured to you, βYouβve always belonged to me, now I'm just taking whatβs mine.β
He nipped your lip, dragging his mouth over yours as he pinned you to the wall and bottomed out with one hard thrust. βSay it.β
Fucked. Thatβs what you were. So unbelievably fucked.
You looked him in the eye as you breathed the words out.Β
βIβm yours,βΒ
It didnβt feel like a lie. It felt like you belonged to him. Gojo killed for you, why didnβt that scare you more? Make you want to run from him and the claim heβd seemed to set on you long before this.
The gun dropped from your head and clattered to the ground. You had leverage now, he was giving up control and power and you could do it, tell him to stop and use this to get out.
But you didnβt.
You dropped the knife, threw your arms around his neck, let him pick you up with both hands, and kissed him.
Gojo carried you across the room and set you down on the table that held Zenin Naoyaβs lifeless body. He broke the kiss, still buried inside you, and turned your head to face the corpse. You shut your eyes against the sight of it.
Gojoβs lips brushed your jaw as he spoke, his voice was raw and low. βLook. Heβll never hurt another girl again, and itβs because of you. Because Iβd do anything for you.β Gojo turned you to look at him again. βI belong to you, too. Every fucked up part of me is yours.βΒ
He looked as raw as he sounded. Eyes wide and vulnerable like he was bearing his soul to you, and you nodded. You didnβt agree with the method, but you understood.
Too many times youβd felt you werenβt enough, like you were failing the people you swore to serve and protect. Gojo had done the same, and he was doing it in a way that made certain the monsters that roamed free would never harm again.
You were always into the vigilante thing, you guessed. It was pretty hot. Maybe Gojo would wear spandex and a mask too.
The thought made you laugh a little and you cupped his face with both hands. βYouβre a fucking psycho. Take your shirt off, this feels unfair.β
Gojo grinned, wide and wicked and so pretty it wasnβt fair. βIβm crazy for you, sweetheart. Anything you want.β He pulled the tight black shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor.Β
That wasnβt fair.Β
You always thought it weird that a nerd holed up in a lab all day would be so jacked, and now you understood why. You eyed him without shame, just as you always did. Lingering on his broad chest, gaze sliding down the ripples of his abs. There was a bloody cut on his oblique from where the knife had dug in.
Oops.
βFuck me,β He was still buried inside you, but you said it anyways. And Gojo obliged.
He spread your legs open with both hands, and held tight as he thrust hard into you. He split you open on his cock, panting into your mouth and staring with lidded eyes into yours as he slammed in balls deep.Β
Your head flew back and a guttural sound came from deep in your chest. The pace he set was brutal, like heβd held something back before and it was snapped free now. A sound like a growl rumbled in his throat, teeth raking down your jaw, over your throat and he latched on to the skin.Β
He sucked and bit and bullied into you. Pushing your legs wider as he angled his hips up to push into a spot that made your head spin. Stars glittered across your vision and your nails dug into skin as you gripped his shoulders.Β
The pain didnβt bother him one bit. He reveled in it, savoring the sting of your nails breaking skin. He bit harder and moaned against your throat. The table rocked with every hard thrust.Β
He never wanted it to end, your cunt gripped and pulsed around his cock, greedy as fuck and sucking him in. Wet and loud and hot, what heaven might feel like. Your pussy was better, and heβd never even get to see the gates to compare.
Gojo rocked into you, sliding in deep and whining around your throat as the tip of his cock ground against your cervix. You cried out, cunt fluttering around him. Your legs shaking in his grip, spine bowing to push your chest up to him.
It was perfect. You were perfect.
He wanted to ruin you, break you just to put you back together and do it all over again.Β
Heat coiled through you, wrapping through your insides like a white hot wire that burned anything it touched. Every drag of his thick cock through your walls sparked more and you clawed at Gojoβs shoulders, keening as you clung to him.
You were so lost in everything you didnβt even notice his hand move until his thumb pressed to your clit and your eyes rolled.
βOh my god, f-fuck!β Your body locked up, shuddering as he toyed your clit, pressing mean circles on the sensitive bud.
Your cunt gripped tight, like you were trying to slow him, but Gojo was relentless, never slowing even as his abs clenched. He pressed his forehead to yours, both slick with sweat.
βLet go, come for me sweetheart, I want to feel it.βΒ
Another shudder wracked through you, and the wire snapped free. Your jaw dropped in a silent cry, your cunt pulsed and gushed around Gojoβs cock. Warm slick flooded and dripped as he hammered into you. Thumb wet and slipping as you twitched with every messy circle he kept rubbing, drawing out your orgasm until his balls tightened.
βGonna come in you. Youβre mine so Iβm fuckinβ fill you up.β It wasnβt even a question, you wanted it just as bad as he did. As if youβd go through all of that just for him to fucking pull out.
He threw his head back and moaned. A pretty sound, almost as pretty as the sight, the column of his throat exposed. He gripped the plush of your thigh hard, buried to hilt in your still twitching cunt, and the ache in his cock finally released.
You felt the kick deep as he shuddered, hips stuttering as he spilled. Spurts of hot cum coated your walls. He didnβt stop, head falling forward again and whining as he fucked it all deeper into you. You keened and jerked on every short, sloppy thrust. Sweat dripped down your neck and your body felt beyond spent.Β
Finally Gojo stilled, both of you caught your breath a little before he kissed you again. Softer, less urgent with the tension released. He pulled back and murmured against your mouth, cupping your face and brushing his thumb over your cheekbone.
βIβm sorry, sweetheart. Donβt be mad when you wake up.βΒ
Something pricked your neck and you jerked back, eyes going wide. βWhat the fuβ¦β You couldnβt even finish the sentence before the syringe of M-99 he pulled from his back pocket worked its magic and you passed out. He caught you with an arm around your waist and lowered you to the table. He pulled out of your cunt and watched as his cum poured from your pussy. Pretty and used and dripping milky cum.Β
What a fucking sight. Everything about you was so pretty. But he didn't quite trust you not to stab him in the back and run the moment you got the chance, not yet.
Youβd be just as pretty when you woke up again tied up, even if you were in a blind rage when you did.Β
He always did kind of like when you yelled at him.
κ·κ¦a/nκ¦κ· if you made it thru all of this and haven't already, please go check out TMD by Innka on ao3, her work is incredible and seared into my brain and got me through this one (TMD is unfinished but still brilliant and worth the read). huge ty to my soulmate and beta reader @sadtrash69 for making this legible omg T_T
Note: please block me if my work is not your cup-o-tea. I do not own any of the character art. Please respect my blog art.
Reader is encouraged to listen to music mentioned for context :)
WC : 20K! (both parts)
Wanna take it from the top? Start at Set 1πΆ;)
<<The Sweetest Beat - Set 6
<< Return to Set 7 (Part 1)
The Sweetest Beat - Set 8 >> Coming Soon :)
TSB - Masterlist ~ AO3 | Wattpad | Playlist
Synopsis: Megumi Fushiguro is the leader of a fresh new rock band. They're currently playing covers and gaining a following at an alarming rate, skyrocketing his career as an indie artist. But when his best friend introduces him to a beautiful someone and sparks fly, he's challenged to navigate her fear of loving freely.
..... Minors: You have no business here. Love you, but please don't ....
βΆSET 7
Crazy β Gnarls Barkley
After Dark β Mr. Kitty
The Rain Song β Led Zepplin
Into the Blue β Galleaux
Frozen β Sabrina Claudio
Whale and Wasp β Alice in Chains
Paranoia Purple (Live at Electric Lady) β Yebba
Wild Horses β The Sundays
Stay the Night β The Internet
Middle of the Night β Elley Duhe
Sweet Tea β Snoh Alegra
How to Disappear Completely β Radiohead
Nude β Radiohead
Shape of My Heart β Sting
HEY THERE... YOU'RE READING PART 2.
CLICK HERE TO GO BACK TO PART 1 ;)
...
βIt looks like theyβre planning to send me away again.β
It was as if his sinking heart needed to be fished from wherever it was beginning to disappear to in his chest. He had a sneaking suspicion what was happening, yet asked anyway as his breaths even became shallow.
βYou mean, your work?β
βYeah. To Okinawa. I just found out today.β
As much as Megumi didnβt want to admit it, the logistics of this situation were beginning to get caught just beneath the surface of his skin. βThat Geto guy sure seems to like having you around.β he joked, knowing the name he really wanted to mention wasnβt Getoβs.
He half wanted to complain, but the other half wanted to ask more questions, since that nagging feeling was pressing as he sat perfectly still, squeezing the bracelet in his palm, running his thumb across the crystal as if it were really you.
βWellβ¦β as you started to speak, you realized you were genuinely scared to tell him.
Not because you were afraid of Megumi, but because you just didnβt want to bring that guyβs name up around him at all.
Heβd already caused enough trouble.
But of course, not telling him wasnβt exactly a sensible option.
βIt wasβ¦ Sukunaβs... idea.β his name felt like battery acid seeping from your mouth.
And now his heart was completely submerged.
βSukunaβs.β Megumi echoed quietly as he allowed it to register.
βIt wont be long. I justβ¦β
βCome over.β he interrupted.
βW β What?β
βCome see me. Please.β his heart pounded a little faster even as he asked.
βMegz, itβs so late.β You whined. Itβd be different if his place was originally your destination for the night butβ¦ βI canβt imagine going anywhere right now.β
βThen Iβll come to you.β he resolved. βI donβt think Iβve even stayed overnight there yet.β
You smirked at the thought, your forehead wrinkling momentarily as your eyes scanned your surroundings. βYou havenβt, actually.β you murmured.
βIβm on my way.β
βOkay.β
As you hung up, you continued to look around, noting that there was nothing in this place that carried his scent, or his memory.
You couldnβt help but wonder why.
Why hadnβt you brought over even a tee shirt of his?
A hoodie⦠A trinket of any kind?
Why hadnβt he been here more often?
Why was your space completely devoid of Megumi?
You hopped in the shower, washing off the day, your heart skipping at the idea of Megumi Fushiguro hanging out at your place overnight.
It was strange, you feeling so detached from him here.
As if he was this largely untouchable person.
He hasnβt been that to you for quite a while now.
Heβs been a beautiful person since the first day you laid eyes on him.
And despite not knowing him well, youβd established yourself as his favorite groupie out the gate, based on his talent alone. Even if you didnβt know him personally, you likely would have still attended every show.
Clearly that relationship has grown exponentially. Nevertheless, you couldnβt help but wonder if your perception was somehow skewed.
Heβd never given you a reason to feel distant, yet it seemed to be the default. Specifically when you were at home.
Fresh from the shower, you stared into your reflection through the steam clouded mirror, your mind wandering about how many women would have likely killed to be where you are right now as you toweled your hair.
Nanako, the woman outside on the wedding parking lot, all the girls at his shows, the ones you see commenting online⦠But he wanted to see you.
He suggested this. As always.
You wandered back to your living space, swiping your phone from the counter to check the bandβs views from their last show, noticing it had reached seven-hundred fifty k already, their Subscribers now exceeding a cool one point five million.
βWow. Toge is really amazing.β You said to yourself, noticing the edits and re-posts heβd done on the videos and shorts, which heavily contributed to their following.
After looking at it for so long, it felt to you, as if youβd likely and consistently lag behind in an attempt to catch up to him. Or at the very least, somehow work to deserve the space you occupied in his life.
Yet you knew in your heart of hearts, heβd argue that youβd lost your mind.
What was truly lost on you is why you couldnβt help it.
You considered how comfortable you were in your space, how safe. Free of the pressure to be anything, or of any criticism for being who you are, and wondered if you were willing to let that go.
You made sure to look βcuteβ whenever you went to stay at Megumiβs, but that was obviously unnecessary when you were at your place.
Yet with nary a mite of a reminder here of him, it almost seemed as though you hadnβt taken any steps toward him at all, regardless of all the time youβd spent with him.
Of course, he loved your appearance, among everything else, and you couldnβt think of a single time he had anything negative to say about you. Yet you questioned what you were holding on to.
You were free of pressure here, but that included any pressure to be better. And without a doubt, all that youβd allowed to lay stagnant would grow and flourish around him.
You grabbed a pink cotton Henley tank from your drawer, and a pair of pink drawstring boy shorts you often wore to sleep. It was awfully cozy, despite the brutal chill in the air outside.
Stay the Night β The Internet
played on your system as you tossed on your favorite soft black lounge jacket complete with a hood, and relaxed your back against the headboard of your bed with some oolong as you waited for him to show.
Which wasnβt long.
After sitting for less than fifteen minutes, there was a knock at the door.
His punctuality was of the sort that needed to be studied.
The last time you recall him coming by was before the wedding you attended together where you performed.
You opened the door to greet him, as a smile spread slowly across your face.
A backpack was slung across his shoulder over a black v-neck tee. He wore a thick black zip hoodie and was devoid of spikes in his tousled jet black hair.
Relaxed, unassuming, Megumi. The one you had the privilege of seeing, probably more often than anyone, but here.
βHey.β your warm smile widened as you felt your second wind come on, the excitement of having him as a guest jolting your nerves. You stepped aside, granting him space to enter.
βYou donβt have to entertain me.β He murmured as he walked in.
βNo, itβs okay. I mean I am exhausted, but not sleepy. I was just winding down.β
βCool, now I donβt feel to bad for barging in on you like this.β
Your eyes followed him as you closed the door with a soft βclickβ, watching his head swivel to and fro as he observed every nook and cranny.
His lids relaxed over his large, glassy eyes as a glint shined inside, making it difficult to hide exactly how happy he was be there.
Your heart warmed at his demeanor; he looked a little lost and somehow subtly anxious, awaiting instruction like a well trained puppy.
βYouβre not barging.β You reassured him with a tilt of your head. βYou can put your bag down wherever. Want some tea?β You asked politely, making your way to the kitchen.
βSeriously, you donβt have to. Itβs notββ
βItβs already made.β you interrupted, somehow glad to know he was capable of the same kind of nervous tension youβd experienced so many times at his place.
It was adorable. And also out of characterβ¦
At least from what youβd seen thus far.
He always seemed so sure of himself, and comfortable in his own skin, even if he was completely uncomfortable elsewhere.
βActually, I planned to watch TV in my room until I pass out.β you explained through your stuck on smirk. βBut donβt mind meβ¦ If you wanna sleep, you can chill on the bed, or couch. Iβll wear headphones so I donβt interrupt.β
You began pouring, your eyes flicking up at him again, just because.
βNo way. Itβs my first time staying over.β he huffed, βIβm not gonna sleep while you stay up and watch movies...You have popcorn?β
βI do.β you replied, growing more excited as you grabbed a bag from the cabinet, tossing it in the microwave.
His eyes followed your every move across the span of your hardwood floor, lingering on the smooth exposed skin of your freshly oiled legs, various familiar scents, wafting to his nose from every direction as his eyes flicked around in an attempt to locate the source.
It felt different in here. Warm.
Your open space was wide, sectioned off for the different areas of your home; bedroom, living/dining, kitchen, all visible from each other.
He pulled off his shoes, hoodie and bag, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he wandered over to your reading nook by the window.
Much of the city was visible from that cute sill, which wasnβt nearly as high up from the ground as his. However, it was high enough to see a good way across to the next town, and still make out a bakery, bookstore, and faces of evening stragglers wandering around beneath it.
The lights were colorful and bright, even this late in the evening, cars going by as the muted sound of horns and chatter barely made it up to the window.
His eyes drifted from that cozy spot to your queen bed, where his body followed suit, the area littered with plants and color.
All he looked forward to, every time you entered his apartment, was here in abundance β¦ the source of what he longed for, saturated in your surroundings.
Back when he came by to pick you up for the wedding, he could see that it was nice, but couldnβt stay long enough to soak it in. Strange he didnβt come this direction more often rather than the other way around.
But thatβs how it always was.
Work. Home. Work. Home... with the occasional outing among friends, all of whom happened to be directly connected to his career. Funny that was all there wasβ¦ not that it wasnβt a lot.
Well, it was a lot... in a few very important things.
Quality over quantity.
He reluctantly picked a side of your bed, wondering if that was the one you normally chose. He pulled off his baggy button-up joggers, and sank into the plush bedding, propping a leg under the comforter in the direction of the TV.
It felt odd there, but extremely comfortable.
Every girl heβd dated either met him at Yujiβs or came to see him at his place, happily as a matter of fact, βcause thatβs where they wanted to be.
It really never had anything to do with his preference, yet somehow became the norm. He wondered if he could have, or should have done something to change that before now.
The watched the images flash from the TV, the volume muted as music continued to flow from your system.
Middle of the Night β Elley Duhe
played quietly. He loved the sound, crossing his arms as he leaned back into the headboard to focus his attention on it.
He listened, not recognizing anything but the voice, observing the lyrics and composition under the assumption it was yours.
His eyes flicked back to yours with a smirk, βNice song.β he murmured, as impressed as always, primarily with the lyrics, perfectly suited for this moment.
βThank you.β you replied as you drew closer, βHere you go.β handing him a black mug that appeared to turn blue from the temperature of the tea. βPopcornβs done, too.β
βThanks.β He said, staring up at you from his spot on the bed as you set the bowl of corn and your mug on the bedside table.
βWill you get mad if I drop kernels on your bed?β
βNope.β You smirked, plopping down next to him, βI mean, its not like I want them on the bed.β you peeked at him out the corner of your eye. β...but if I find them on my side Iβm pushing them over to yours.β
He huffed a muted laugh as you turned to grab your mug, then settled in all easy-like, as the fabric of your soft jacket slipped open, exposing your pink pjβs as you curled up next to him.
Your hair was still a little damp from the shower, tendrils clinging along your neck and cleavage, and that scent he loved was even stronger now that you were less than an arms length away.
Heβd seen you relaxed like this, of course, but somehow it hit different here. You seemed less stressed, less tense, moreβ¦ yourself. That only made him want to rest his eyes nowhere else but on you.
βYou okay?β you asked, allowing the warmth of the tea to seep through your palms from your mug as you noted his contemplative state.
βMhmβ¦β he replied, his blues flicking around the room, to you, and his mug in rotation. βHow long does it take for you to write something like that?β
You sighed, βI dunnoβ¦ I suppose it depends on my mood, the reason for the song, orβ¦ the person I write it about. If I had to give it a frame, Iβd say a few days?β
He nodded. βAnd.. who was this one about?β he asked, barely meeting your gaze.
Your eyes met his quickly at that question, then rested at the obvious pink in his typically pale cheeks. Considering the lyrics, it was clear that if there was someone attached to it, the connection was quite intense.
βNo one.β you answered, wondering if heβd actually believe you as you worked to mute your smile; a direct reaction to his ridiculously adorable blush.
βReally?β his voice inflected down at the end of that word as he took another sip of his tea, nearly burying his face inside the mug.
βReally.β You couldnβt help your smirk at this point. βI actually remember exactly how I felt around the time I wrote it.β
You ran your thumb across the lip of your mug as you explained. βit was about a year ago. Nobara and I were chatting, daydreaming as always, and had these lofty ideas about our perfect future relationships. This song was the result of what I wanted.β
Megumi rested his head against the headboard, as you, the lyrics, and the sound offered more than just a superficial explanation of your desires. The eroticism was understated, but still quite prevalent.
βYou need anythingβ¦ right now?β He asked, hoping to seem less anxious.
Your lips turned down in the corners as you shook your head slowly, βNope.β you replied quietly, noticing how ironically not-so-relaxed he seemed. βAre you sure youβre okay?β
βIβm fine.β he answered quietly, captivated by what he heard. He raised his softened expression to meet your gaze. βCan I master it?β
The response you wanted to give might have gotten you into more βtroubleβ than you wanted for the moment, so you decided to hold back a little.
βYou most certainly can.β you replied, holding his gaze.
His heart pounded in his chest as he buried his face in his tea again, finishing it rather quickly, then handed it to you. You swiped it, setting it down on your table.
βSo... this is where that big brain of yours gets your ideas?β he mumbled.
You looked around your space. βI guess so.β You replied, acknowledging the serenity. βI kinda have to set the atmosphere for inspiration.β
βMmmmβ¦β He hummed, βDo you think I can help?β
You hiked a brow. βHelp?β
βYeah.β he replied, βI want you to rely on me more.β
You tilted your head as you palmed your mug with both hands. βWhy?β
βBecause.β
At that, he took the opportunity to ignore the TV, lying on his side as he slid his arm beneath your plush pillow, using his elbow to prop up his head as he decided you were far more interesting to view anyway.
Your eyes followed the motion, watching him nestle into your pink plush blanket, the sight of him in this state melting your heart.
βBecauseβ¦ why?β you replied gently, wishing you could open his mind and see inside.
He shrugged. βI need a reason?β he asked
You squinted, head tilting as you processed his words.
βI just wannaβ¦ be that person for you.β the mushiness of the words effecting him enough to pull his gaze away as his cheeks reddened.
You could have eaten him at a that moment.
Your smile widened as you grabbed the remote, turning off the TV as a familiar song,
Sweet Tea β Snoh Alegra
played quietly.
You placed your mug next to his, following suit as you rested your head on your pillow across from his, pressing your palms together beneath it.
βOkay.β You murmured, almost inaudibly.
His usually spiky, well coiffed locks now rested as soft tendrils against the side of his face and along your pillow as he held your gaze.
You cupped his face his with your soft hand, still warm from the tea, fingers sliding down the side of his neck then slowly tracing the shape of his Adams apple.
His pulse quickened beneath your fingertips as he spoke hesitantly. βYouβre leaving me.β fell from his lips as your touch sent a tingle down his spine.
βNever.β you whispered.
He studied your face like heβd be tested on memorization. βPromise.β
It was refreshing seeing him like this. But you couldnβt help but feel something else just beneath the surface.
βCross my heart. And hope to die.β you muttered.
βYou canβt do that... Your heart is mine, remember?β He replied as your fingers curled around his neck, his voice vibrating against your palm.
Your smile peeked.
βIf you break your promiseβ he continued, βIβll die too.β
That smile melted into a more serious expression, the thought sending a pang to your heart. βDonβt.β You replied. βOr Iβll come back and kill you.β
His lips curled up just barely in the corners as if your reply was satisfactory, a sharp tingle coursing through to his groin as your grip tightened around his neck.
βWhat do you wanna watch?β he asked, as if still interested in television.
βYou pick.β you replied, observing his pulse under his skin against yours.
He blinked lazily. βI dunno.β
It was difficult to consider redirecting his attention to something as mundane as a movie, especially when you were so incredibly gorgeous right now.
βYou haveβ¦ many options.β you murmured, pressing your cheek deeper into the pillow over your other hand.
βMmmβ¦β he hummed, βBut one good one is more than enough.β
You nodded subtly. βDrama?β
His lips turned down in the corners. βNah.β
βHorror?β your eyes widened as you snickered, tightening your grip even more, then loosening it to slid your fingertips up through his hair.
βTch. Maybe another time.β
βAction.β you hiked a brow, then gripped a chunk of his hair gently.
He chuckled, completely satisfied with just this.
βHow about oneβ¦ with a little of everything.β
βOkay.β you replied, just as uninterested in it as he was. βSounds perfect.β
His pupils dilated visibly over his fixed gaze, his eyes tracing every soft curve in your face. βIt is perfect.β
You continued to caress him mindlessly, sliding your fingers down and around his neck as you inched closer.
A thoughtful look washed over him as he glanced away. βHow long will you be gone?β
You shrugged. βA couple weeks. Three, max. Not as long as before.β
βEver been to Okinawa?β
Your brow furrowed. βNo, actually.β
βI should have taken you.β
βYou can still take me.β
β... But I canβt take you first.β
As you continued to stroke his neck and hair, you noticed a hint of a pout present on the edge of his mouth. You just about melted.
βI love you, Megumi.β
His gaze Immediately returned to yours, as if those words snapped him back from wherever his mind had just taken him, his heart racing as his name fell from your lips.
His hand moved to cup your face, his eyes resting on your lips. βSay that again.β
You giggled softly. βI love you. Megumi Fushiguro.β
His thumb slid across your bottom lip as he watched your supple skin bend against the pressure.
βI donβt want to go on this trip.β you murmured. βI... tried to see if you could come with me.β
You probably could never imagine the way it made him feel to hear that. βHow did that go over?β
You took a deep breath. βIt didnβt. Apparently itβs not a thing this time around.β
βOf course not.β he whispered.
βWill you miss me when Iβm gone?β
His lip twitched, threatening a smile. βProbably far more than I should.β
βYou can call me again β¦ like last time.β you replied with a smirk.
βIf you say that, Iβll do it every day.β
βOkay.β you replied.
You inched your body even closer, burying your face into the crook of his neck, squeezing his bicep, then sliding it down his arm until you found his empty hand where you locked it with yours, pulling it around your waist as you lifted your leg to drape it across his.
It would have been nice to watch that movie.
This was just⦠so much nicer.
His chest rose and fell against yours as you continued felt the thump of his heart from his chest, beating against yours.
You both realized how tired you actually were, and fell asleep to the sound of each otherβs breathing and the warmth of your bodies.
*~*~*~*~*
The time came a little faster than expected.
You packed your bags, hoping to get to the airport in more than enough time so you wouldnβt need to rush.
You decided to make a quick phone call before hitting the road.
βHey, lady. How are you?β
βGood baybeee!β Nobara answered, βSitting with Yuji gettin some booze in before tonight. Heβs taking me out.β You could hear her smile over the phone.
βTell Yuji I said, βHiβ and to βtake good care of you tonightβ.β you said, in a mock patronizing tone.
βI will.β she said back in the same tone, smiling over at Yuji as he smoked a baby joint.
βIt was nice to get together with Tsumiki again before she left.β She continued. βBut I canβt stop thinking about your trip. Howβs everything going?β
βPretty well. Iβm mostly packed, but... I wanted to ask you a question.β you replied, stuffing the last few items you needed into the outside compartments of your bags.
βOkay, shoot.β
βWell, remember what we talked about briefly after lunch last week? I spent some more time with Megz of course, and β¦ I think youβre right. I feel like heβs definitely a little anxious lately. I mean, heβs not his usual collected self. Wellβ¦ heβs calm butβ¦β you looked to the ceiling, searching your brain for the right word.
βDifferent?β She finished.
βYeah.β you agreed. βNot extremely different, but.. you know?β
βYeah. I know.β She paused, Iβm gonna let you talk to Yuji. She said, passing him the phone.
βHey Hun.β you greeted him.
βHey.β he replied. βI overheard. I kinda guessed something like this would happen, considering youβre spending all that time with those impressive men.β
βYeah.β you scoffed, βYou think he might be worried about me?β
He shook his head, even though you couldnβt see him. βI donβt know if heβs worried about you as much as about them. But then...β
You stopped what you were doing to sit. βWhat?β
βWhen it comes to women, Megumiβs not likely to get mushy.β
βI couldβve told her that.β Nobara chimed in in the background.
Yuji took a moment as if to gather the right words. βDonβt get me wrong. Heβs brutally honest, even if some of what he says comes off sweet or compassionate.β
βYeahβ you interjected. βI definitely noticed that. He has a way with words, but heβs far less likely to talk than act.β
βExactly. And when itβs time to open up β¦ heβs hesitant to be honest with himself.β
βWhat do you mean by that?β you frowned, considering all the times the two of you had heartfelt conversations. Specifically the last time. Yet, most of the time it was regarding you.
That revelation actually kind of made you feel a bit guilty.
βThereβs a lot going on in that guyβs head.β Yuji noted. βHeβs a problem solver. A force when it comes to getting what he wants, butβ¦ vulnerability isnβt his strong suit. If heβs struggling with something, heβll likely do it all by himself.β
Your heart twisted a little in your chest at the thought.
All this time, and you hadnβt thought of him that way. It felt as though youβd been completely neglecting him.
βWeβve been talking a lot lately.β you added, βHe didnβt seem noticably angry.β
βHe probably wonβt, until heβs bubbling over.β He grimaced a little. βAnd I realize how unhealthy that sounds.β he chuckled under his breath. βHe can be a big baby when it comes to communicating the more sensitive parts of himself.β
Those words struck a chord in you.
You realized that heβd always been comfortable, at least it seemed, to be intimate or to show you how much he cared. But it was always in actions and not words.
Yuji added, βI donβt know that Iβve seen him this serous about anyone. So if thereβs a person who can bring that out of him, itβs likely you.β
βTchβ, Nobara snickered, βYou saying she can change him?β
He scoffed, βNo. Itβs already there. Iβm saying you can make him feel safe to show it to you.β
Nobara leaned in, speaking loudly into the phone. βI think heβs right.β
You squinted, as if the focus in your eyes would help your mind comprehend things better. You took a deep breath, releasing some tension youβd apparently been holding inside.
βThanks for that, Yuji.β
βOf course. When do you leave?β
βIn a few hours.β
βOkay. Be safe.β Yuji said, handing Nobara the phone.
βYeah, have a safe trip.β She echoed.
βIβll do my best. I hate going to airports. Theyβre so stressful.β
βTell me about it.β She replied. βBy the way, I took Tsumiki to the airport with Megumi. She says sheβs thinking of taking another trip out here for the show in a month. She wants to support the band.β
βThat would be awesome.β you smiled, βIβm sure theyβll all appreciate that.β
βYeah. And donβt let all of this worry you while youβre working.β she advised. βTake advantage of the time. Get some sun and relax. Everything you need will come to you.β
βOkay. Thank you love.β you replied, βIβll call you when I get settled in.β
*~*~*~*~*
It was a little crowded at the airport, but wasnβt too bad since your flight was booked for a weekday, during work hours.
The trip wouldnβt be more than about three hours, and you had a few more songs to finish so you figured youβd do so with the downtime.
How to Disappear Completely β Radiohead
played overhead at the airport as you made your way through the bustle.
Once you spotted Geto at the gate, you joked with him about the accommodations on the plane. It was common for this particular airline to have no window seats available, and as soon as youβd found out about the trip, you asked for one immediately.
βOne window seat as requested.β he said, handing you the ticket.
βWow!β you said, relieved and excited. βYou got it?β
βSure. I mean, itβs the least we can do for dragging you guys out to this beautiful place, right?β
You swiped the ticket from his hand graciously, noting the sarcasm. βThanks. I appreciate that.β Geto was a decent guy, but definitely had his cheeky moments.
βOf course.β He replied with a chuckle mixed into his huff. βOkinawa is nice, and exciting. Hopefully weβll get to see a lot more than just our hotel meeting rooms on this trip.β
You nodded in agreement. βItβs my first time here. Iβll be sure to make the most of it.β
βHappy to hear it.β he replied, just before you noticed Sukuna making his way to the gate.
He pulled his luggage along in a confident stride, his chiseled form coiffed in a fitted Polo which accentuated his tats perfectly over dark denim. All eyes were on him as he approached, and the last thing you wanted was for the pair in you head to be included in the lot.
βExcuse me.β you said to Geto, hoping to make your exit from that general area before Sukuna filled it with his overwhelming presence.
You quickly stuffed your ticket in your crossover as you turned to have a few words with some colleagues as you filed in.
Management always took on the responsibility to book flights and rooms for these trips. Thankfully you never really needed to communicate much where that was concerned, especially since you often had too much to do there, anyway.
Geto and Sukuna spent their time chatting as you began to board, Sukunaβs eyes wandering toward you probably far more often than they should have, as if he were waiting for you to do something.
Needless to say, it was unnerving, and annoying, but what else was new?
The agent at the gate wished you all a great flight as you made your way onto what was said to be one of Japanβs best airlines.
You sighed as your sights finally drifted to the details on your ticket, suddenly frowning at the info.
The confusion on your face was obvious, and by the time you processed what youβd seen, an attendant was already prepared to help.
Is everything okay, Maβam? She asked with a perfectly professional smile and genuine concern.
βY-yes, uhmβ¦ I just realized where my seat was.β you said, brushing it off as to not worry her too much.
βOkay. Please let us know if you need anything. Weβre happy to help.β she replied, just before greeting the next passenger.
You walked through the cabin, past all the seats you might have typically booked as your colleagues, the ones youβd trained, took seats in economy.
You continued following the numbers until you passed the partition that led to first class. One row, six rows, ten rows. Your seat wasnβt there, either. You finally found it, in business.
What the hell? You thought, as you finally located your spacious, plush, accommodating window seat. You checked the ticket again, three more times just to be sure you werenβt trippin.
You realized you werenβt, as you noticed Geto heading there as well. You decided to have a seat, and the moment you did, you felt youβd melt into it and pass out from comfort alone.
It even smelled amazing.
Your flabbers were ghasted. Your head swiveled constantly as you absorbed the surroundings, the luxury, cleanliness and convenience.
You had no desire to complain, but... this never happened.
Not on trips for this company.
At least, not for you.
Geto always gave you and the others the option to upgrade, and primarily you chose economy whenever you flew alone simply as a preference to spend the extra cash on things you found more β¦ βimportantβ.
Not that your comfort wasnβt.
This was nice. But quite unexpected. Also, you didnβt understand how or why you ended up in this section since you hadnβt requested it.
βFeels good, doesnβt it?β A familiar voice chimed, towering from over your shoulder. Sukuna. βNothing like relaxing in business class for trips like this.β
Your eyes widened as you met his smug gaze that somehow seemed softer than usual. Of course it was him.
Your heart beat a mile a minute, and felt like it had dropped into your stomach. There goes your comfort.
βWe decided to give our trainers a bit more this time around.β He beamed as he sat down in the seat right next to you with an exaggerated βAaahhh.β
You could feel your nose flare as if steam would shoot from your ears immediately after. Un-fucking-believable, is what you wanted to say out loud.
You gritted your teeth and practiced breathing slowly as you kept your gaze directed out the window.
Your phone rang, just as expected, at perfect moment, from the perfect person who had perfect timing.
βFuck.β
βOof β¦ language.β Sukuna smirked as he eyeballed you.
You took another deep breath as you answered, trying hard to maintain a smile that he could hear. βHey.β
βHey.β The adrenaline was kicking your ass right now.
βYou boarded?β
βUhβ¦β another breath, ββ¦ yeah.β
Sukunaβs smile could have lit up a room.
And you wanted to punch him right in his malicious face.
He turned toward Geto, who happened to be seated across the aisle from him, completely oblivious to the obvious drama happening among you.
βWhatβs wrong?β Megumi asked, frowning on the other end of the phone. βYou sound upset.β
You sighed again.
How did he know that? You said to yourself, overwhelmingly frustrated to bring any of this up to him. You spoke quietly, strongly desiring some privacy in your conversation. βSomehow I got business class this time.β
βOh yeah?β He replied. βIs that bad?β
βPossibly. I didnβt pay for this.β you admitted, hoping heβd get the hint.
βI see.β Of course he did.
βI think Iβm gonna get one of my colleagues to swiββ
βStay put.β
You frowned even deeper, wondering what he was thinking, but also wishing he was there with you.
You were starting to notice more every day how comforting Megumiβs presence was, regardless of his seemingly chronic disregard for most things.
It was strange that you didnβt want to give up living alone too soon, but having him in your life ensured you were never lonely.
Yet at this point, you couldnβt imagine him not being around.
It was becoming what felt like a necessity rather than a simple desire, and honestly you werenβt sure how to feel about that.
βIβm ordering drinks. You want one?β Sukuna asked, leaning closer to your personal space as if in an attempt to speak directly into the phone.
You answered with a βNo.β so sharp, it couldβve cut him.
His smirk widened into a sly grin, obviously quite pleased with himself as he turned back toward the flight attendant, placing his order.
βIs that Sukuna?β
Another sigh, βYeah. He booked the seat right next to mine.β
You could hear his huff and see his head-shake from the other side of the phone.
βKeep your seat. You deserve to sit there.β Megumi replied, βYou work hard. Give yourself a chance to relax.β
His words were like an elixir for your soul.
βIf heβs truly making you too uncomfortable, donβt stay there.β He continued, βBut please donβt move because of me.β
You wanted more than anything to hug him right now.
To be in his arms.
βOkay.β
βOkay.β He echoed, warmth lacing his voice. βCall me when you touch down.β
βI will. I promise.β you replied, closing your eyes as you recalled the vision of him lying next to you in your cozy bed.
It was deeply seared into your mind, and you never wanted it to leave your memory. You took a final deep breath, βI love youβ floating on itβs wave.
Megumi felt his blood immediately cool as he absorbed the sound of those words coming from your lips. βI love you, too.β He wouldnβt dare end this call without returning them to you.
You didnβt want to hang up, but also didnβt want Sukuna this close to any more intimate moments between you and Megumi.
βProblem in paradise?β His voice rang from where he sat, stinging that side of your body.
you scoffed, βNot even remotely.β you said, gripping the phone as you placed it upside down on the table in front of you.
βYou know, this wasnβt an attempt against your relationship.β
You rolled your eyes, βMmm.β and pressed your lips together in a hard line. Really?β
Another annoying smile from him. βReally. You should be here.β
He went on, βGeto told me how much youβve done for this company.β He said, turning his his sly grin toward you, along with his crossed legs, leaning casually against the arm of his seat, almost in your personal space. Almost.
βAnd from what Iβve seen, frankly, I think you deserve better.β He said bluntly, without so much as a blink.
Despite his double entendre, your brows jumped as you considered how right he finally was. Particularly regarding this job. If you had it your way, youβd be doing something totally different, one hundred percent of the time.
Corporate gigs are right for the right people.
You werenβt the right person.
You just happened to be good at it.
βHere you go.β Sukuna said as he placed a glass of ice water and a small block of dark chocolate on your table. βYou know what they say about chocolate.β
You eyeballed the items, blinking a few times at the gesture before cutting your eyes toward his. βI really donβt know.β you replied. βWhat do they say, Sukuna?β
βItβs the best legal drug.β he replied, taking a sip of his bourbon. βCan make you feel real good β¦ real fast.β
You were sure it wasnβt lost on him that you were not exactly his biggest fan, but somehow you sensed that it was doing the exact opposite of what you wanted it to anyway.
You turned back to the window, still considering changing your seat, and hoping to block him out of your mind for most of the flight which was surprisingly easy to do.
You also expected the understated bullying to continue, yet he spent most of his time chatting with Geto about the trip, the post-training plans, and then buried his face in a book. With glasses nonetheless.
The most infuriating things about him were how handsome he was, how well he managed his narcissistic qualities, and his profound professionalism. He also looked and smelled really good, all the time.
All of that, coupled with his blatant desire to undercut Megumi, truly got under your skin in a way not much ever had. But you were happy to have some relief from his attempts to get any closer to you.
*~*~*~*~*
You finally reached Okinawa and contacted Megumi the minute you exited the gate, heading toward the shuttles prepared to get you to the hotel.
βI made it.β you said, bustling away from the crowd of your coworkers.
βIn one piece.β he quipped, hoping to make light of the situation. βDid you have a comfortable flight?β He genuinely wanted your answer to be βyesβ.
βYou know, it wasnβt as bad as I thought itβd be. I was just glad I didnβt have anyoneβs back in my snacks.β
βTch. Yeah.β He found himself extremely happy that you had the accommodations you did, yet felt the opposite that he wasnβt the one to give them to you. βYou get to rest now, right?β
βWellβ¦ we have to meet for about an hour to go over a few things on the itinerary, but after that, yes.β
βGood. I wonβt hold you up. But call me whenever you want, day or nightβ
βI really wish β¦β you started, but cut yourself off, in an attempt to sound less needy. It was like your heart was missing a piece that youβd left behind. βUhβ¦ Iβll talk to you later.β
βOkay.β He said, reluctantly and obediently ending the call. βTalk to you later.β
*~*~*~*~*
Before you knew it, you were unpacking your bags at the hotel that you all checked into.
Of course, it was a stunning place.
Okinawa itself, and the hotel room, which you were once again surprised to note was far more luxurious than youβd expected. No doubt, Sukunaβs doing.
Regardless, all you could think of was how nice it would have been to be at a place like this with the person you loved.
You suddenly understood what he meant when he said he wished he could have brought you here first.
And now you were thinking the same.
You turned on your phone for some music, as
Nude β Radiohead
Began to play on your device, taking the time to set up your trinkets, baubles and necessities all over the lavish room you had in preparation for whatever work or meet priority might come up at this place, since Geto requested that you do so anyway.
Just as you were settling in, ready to shower, there was an aggressive knock at the door.
You sighed, tired, wishing you could just be left alone for at least another few hours before the eveningβs final meeting with your colleagues.
You approached the door, your bare feet sinking into the plush carpet of the hotel room as you peeked through the peephole.
Of course⦠Sukuna.
With a roll of your eyes, you took another quick deep breath as you unlatched the locks on the heavy door.
βHey girl, hows the room.β he said, casually leaning against the frame by one hand, his muscular arm stretched out to hold himself up.
You scoffed. βWoman. Itβs fine. May I help you?β
βEasy there. Iβm just making the rounds, checking on all of our subordinates.β He said, his voice deep and commanding behind that smirk. It seemed he liked to use that word when referring to his colleagues.
Or maybe it was just you.
βIβd appreciate if you wouldnβt use that term.β your glare could cut metal.
βWhy? Is it not the truth?β
Your lips curled up in the corners, βWeβre all adults here. Thereβs no need for belittling undertones wouldnβt you say?β
βBelittling?β He echoed. βOh I wouldnβt call it that. Iβd say itβs a fitting expression for those in a position requiring them to be obedient. Wouldnβt you say?β he retorted.
You rolled your eyes quite hard as you looked away, hoping to end this interaction as quickly as possible.
βEverythingβs fine here.β
βGood. I made sure it would be.β he replied, his sharp eyes never leaving your face.
βWhat does that mean?β
He leaned forward, angling his body to peer into your room. βWell, this suite wasnβt exactly included in our package.β
Of course.
βAnd how many of us were privileged with this upgrade?β you asked with a tilt of your head.
He shrugged, βMyself, Geto, and ... you.β He droned, his smile widening as his eyes scanned your frame.
βWhy?β
βI already told you. I think you deserve better.β
βI didnβt ask for thisβ¦ correctionβ¦ I didnβt ask you, for this.β
βYou didnβt have to.β he replied, βI talked it over with Geto, and he confirmed that I could use my personal funds however I wanted. Besides, youβre the top trainer on this trip, damn near management yourself. Youβve earned it.β
βAnything else?β you asked, with puckered lips.
βThatβs all for now.β He looked down at the towel you gripped in your arm before grinning once more. βEnjoy that shower.β
With that, he turned on his heels, heading down the hallway.
*~*~*~*~*
Shape of My Heart β Sting
Played lightly in the dark of the room.
The light clicks resounded in his office that evening as he typed away on his keyboard, his mind heavy with wonder surrounding how you were feeling on this trip, and what you were doing every minute.
Megumi couldnβt stop his mind from reeling.
It was clearly much different from the last, where you had plenty of opportunity and space to spend your extra time chatting, texting or face timing.
It was hard to imagine you being anywhere near Sukuna, but it was clear that he had no choice.
It pained him to think heβd have to simply wait around to see the outcome of whatever mess Sukuna had already finished cooking up.
Not to mention, he still had quite a bit of time to wait for the answer to his question posed to you which never came.
The events in the history of his β¦ βrelationshipβ with Sukuna flashed in his head like a migraine, and suddenly Nanako was also on his mind all over again.
That was taken care of. Water under the bridge.
But was it really? If so, why now? Why would what happened back then be a thought at all if it was resolved?
He decided he wouldnβt idle in this situation.
He couldnβt. Not this time.
There was too much to loose.
But at the very least, heβd attempt to do something to make things better.
And this was at least a start.
He opened a window, browsing sites until he found exactly what he needed. He scoured the site, and with a final click, it was done.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
One round trip flight to Okinawa.
.
.
.
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<< BACK TO SET 7 PART 1
< Set 6 | Set 8 >
Set 8 Preview: Coming Soon...
Taglist: (if you dont want to be tagged, please lmk!!π)
Notes: As always, I welcome any and all critiques, suggestions, and comments regarding my work, since I truly feel all of those may make me a much better writer! I sincerely appreciate you taking the time to read my little stories, and if you'd like to be tagged in releases, don't hesitate to comment below! πππΆ
Note: please block me if my work is not your cup-o-tea.
I do not own any of the character art.
Please respect my blog art.
Reader is encouraged to listen to music mentioned for context :)
WC : 20K!
Wanna take it from the top? Start at Set 1πΆ;)
<<The Sweetest Beat - Set 6
The Sweetest Beat - Set 7 (Pt.2)
The Sweetest Beat - Set 8 >> Coming Soon :)
TSB - Masterlist ~ AO3 | Wattpad | Playlist
Synopsis: Megumi Fushiguro is the leader of a fresh new rock band. They're currently playing covers and gaining a following at an alarming rate, skyrocketing his career as an indie artist. But when his best friend introduces him to a beautiful someone and sparks fly, he's challenged to navigate her fear of loving freely.
..... Minors: You have no business here. Love you, but please don't ....
βΆSET 7
Crazy β Gnarls Barkley
After Dark β Mr. Kitty
The Rain Song β Led Zepplin
Into the Blue β Galleaux
Frozen β Sabrina Claudio
Whale and Wasp β Alice in Chains
Paranoia Purple (Live at Electric Lady) β Yebba
Wild Horses β The Sundays
Stay the Night β The Internet
Middle of the Night β Elley Duhe
Sweet Tea β Snoh Alegra
How to Disappear Completely β Radiohead
Nude β Radiohead
Shape of My Heart β Sting
βWait... What?β you squinted, shaking your head as if something that made no sense at all was inside and you wanted it gone. βYouΒ know him?β
βYeah... but... how do you?β Megumi replied, as
Crazy β Gnarls Barkley
played from the stage.
You scoffed, closing the small gap between you. βHe works with me.β
βSince when?β He frowned.
βSince like... a week ago? My manager brought him in to help out. Iβd never seen him before then.β
Your eyes darted to each part of your manβs face, wishing you could jump inside his brain to find out what exactly It was he was thinking... or feeling. βWere you friends or something?β
Megumi peered over at Yuji who was serving Sukuna another drink, as apparently the one you just saw in his hand was already gone.
His gaze then drifted toward Choso, who stood on stage looking equally puzzled, the left side of his face grimacing as he held out his hands and a βWhat the fuck?β mouthed from his lips.
βFriends? No. He was the lead in a rival band back in college, and one of the reasons we were more than happy to move back home.β
He huffed, rolling his eyes, his normal I-donβt-give-a-fuck expression cracked by his frustration, yet, as always, he still managed to keep his cool. βBut... even if he is working with you, I still donβt get what the heβs doingΒ here?β
The longer Megumiβs confused expression lingered, the more frustrated you got that his night could be ruined by this random and obviously unwelcomeguest.
And just then, something dawned on you.
Sukuna had been sitting at your desk for quite a while that night with your flash drive poking out of your computer before you showed up at work. You immediately winced at the conclusion you drew. βNah, no way he did that.β
Megumiβs head swiveled to face you, βDid what?β he asked, his pretty blues scanning your dumbfounded face as you realized youβd said that out loud.
You hesitated, wheels still turning in an attempt to make sense of it all. βHe was at my work desk... rummaging through my computer the night we rehearsed at your studio.β
You glared over toward Sukuna and the ridiculous smirk he had plastered on his face as he leaned casually, confidently against the bar.
Megumi scoffed, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes again, finishing the rest of his second beer. βYeap, sounds about right.β He raised his hand to get Itadoriβs attention.
βWhat βsounds about rightβ?β you questioned, your frown growing deeper the more anxious this situation made you.
βSukunaβs a fucking asshole.β His brows pressed into his forehead, yet his lips remained tight as he began his explanation. βHe gave us hell throughout campus and elsewhere, talking shit about our band, following us around to every event and competition, working overtime to give us a bad name.β
He quickly glared toward Sukunaβs smug face, then turned back to rake his gaze over you again as his wheels turned.Β
Megumi was always quick on the uptake, that big brain of his rivaling every other part of his greatness as he put two and two together with an abundance of speed.Β
Your work. ... Your computer. ...Your face, your voice. ... Youβ¦
Currently in what some would consider to be Megumiβs βpossessionβ. Especially after tonight.
And now that Sukuna knows that, well, it doesnβt take rocket science to determine what that would mean for the three of you if he wanted nothing more than to be the bane of Megumiβs existence.Β
And a woman like you, looks aside, after what heβd seen of you at this show, Heβd perceive you to be no less than the perfect vessel for his malice.
Even if the end result was for him to have you to himself.
You remained glued to Megumiβs side, your eyes fixed on his face, the inner corners of your brows turned up as you waited to hear what heβd say next.
After all that had passed through his mind like a shock-wave, his gaze simply softened before resting back at yours, his lips manifesting a single request with a subtle upward nod.
βTake a shot with me.β
Yuji handed Megumi two shot glasses of Yamazaki, having overheard your conversation. βUnfortunately, his band is just as badass as he is an asshole.β He whined, as he poured a third for himself.
Megz continued. βHis presence here wonβt be anything less than hell. Iβm sure heβs only here to start more shit.β
You puckered your lips, taking the shot from Megzβs hand.
Of course they finished first as you allowed it to submerge your tongue and fill your senses on the way down. You grimaced as the heat gathered in your throat and you set the glass back down on the bar.
Yuji stacked them, taking them behind the bar as he leaned in to talk to Nobara.
βWhat do you think he could possibly be up to this time?β you questioned. βI mean,Β specifically.Β You guys are already practically established here. What could he do to change that?β
The concern on your face was more than enough to soften even Megumiβs heart. So innocent. So considerate. So cute.
So... naive.
Perhaps it was a good thing that the obvious didnβt cross your mind for Megumiβs sake. Considering especially as he looked at you, he would be the one with the most to lose should anything be done βto change thatβ.
Your emo boy flashed a sneak of a smile as everything in him wanted nothing more in this moment than to lock you up, chain you down, and keep you safe.Β
From everyone except himself, of course.
His lids rested over his contemplative eyes as he let how cute you were stir up his anxiety to get you out of here.
βWho knows?β Megumi answered, breaking his never-ending train of thought with raised brows, lips turned up in the corners and exhaustion already gracing his face, though nothing has really happened yet. βBut whatever it is, itβll probably be fucked up.β
You huffed, βI canβt believe he went through my shit like that.β You shook your head in disbelief, especially at the fact that heβd do something like that so blatantly in front of Geto. You wondered how close they were. βI gotta report him.β
βBe careful.β Megumi warned quickly, peeking at you out the corner of his eye, watching the wheels in your brain turn right in front of him.
βWhat? Why?β
He shrugged, βIf he went that far, heβll do moreβ. Megumiβs demeanor was characteristically calm, considering the implications of his accusation. βI havenβt dealt with him in a while, but I know he can be pretty relentless.β he spoke with a hint of genuine worry in his voice that you could recognize even in this crowd.
βWell, if thatβs the case, I donβt wanna waste any more time thinking about it now...β You stood in front of your lover, between his propped up legs, removing his third beer from his hand as you pulled his arms to drape them around your waist.Β
βItβs your birthday.β you tilted your head, βDonβt you want your present?β
Megumiβs lids lowered slowly as his sights dropped to rest at your chest, lowering more as they cascaded further, tracing the curves of your hips as he allowed the affects of the alcohol to woo him into a chill daze, not remotely replacing the one your presence had on him.
He was finally drunk, but not blind.
With his face still angled in the direction of your thighs, his eyes lifted first to meet your gaze as he murmured, devoid of a smile, βThereβs more?β with a hike in his brow.
βYeah. Thereβs more.β
He stood to hover, his shadow nearly swallowing you whole as he leaned into your ear. βIβm gonna ruin you for anyone else.β
It was hard to hide the deep blush forming beneath the shimmery highlights on your cheeks as you quickly glanced around, checking for prying eyes.
There were a few, but even a million couldnβt stop you from indulging in this moment. Your tongue pulled your bottom lip behind your teeth as your eyes met his, that pout still on his lips as his gaze darkened at the sight of your adorable face.
βFeeling possessive birthday boy?β you gripped his tee in each of your hands at his sides as he leaned into you to inhale you again, his jet-black strands tickling your neck. βJust so you know,β you droned, βThatβs a done mother-fuckingΒ deal.β
βMegz!β Nobara yelled from near the front where she and Yuji waited with Tsumiki, giving a sideways nod for the two of you to get lost with them before the crowd made an attempt to follow.
Megumiβs eyes were attached to your neck, your supple skin exposed under your glistening necklace, sparkling with that pretty oil he could smell on you, all of the above making him far more than merely excited to get you wherever you were going next, and quickly.
Mr. Kitty β After Dark
played from the stage as another set of Inoβs friends followed up with a few crowd favorites, allowing you the time you needed to escape, at least a little unnoticed as Toge and Choso hung back a bit to keep them entertained.
Your hands pulled the fabric of his top as he leaned into you even more, βtipsyβ describing him fully in this moment, keeping his warm body close as you led him toward the door.
Youβd gotten maybe five steps as yet another large body hindered your ability to go any further.
βSo youβre not even gonna speak?β
Your smile faded immediately at the sight of him. Sukuna. His full, relatively intimidating frame towering over you.
βNot much to say... Weβre on our way out.β You murmured, bluntly.
He stood, swirling his lowball, with a quite pungent iced drink inside that only halfway hid the shady ass smirk on his face.
βThatβs all well and good but uh...β an upward nod, βIβm talkinβ to your friend.β his smile grew wider as he tipped his glass into his mouth, eyeballing Megumi.
βTch.β Megumi huffed, pressing his body into yours, his chest warm against your shoulder blades. His left hand softly gripped your left arm, sliding down as his fingers curled around until they reached your hand where he threaded them between yours.
His right hand curved around your waist. βShe spoke for both of us.β He practically hissed, eyes half lidded. βSumtβn you need?β
Weird he was able to drink at all with the corner of his lips curved up like that, his gaze never leaving Megumiβs. His glass turned down slowly before he swallowed, βOh I think Iβm fully capable of gettingΒ thatΒ regardless.β
You rolled your eyes hard, filling your lungs with air as you sighed even harder. βLets go Megz.β you replied as you pushed past Sukuna, dragging your emo boy along.
Megumi knew it was gonna be a serious problem if you, of all people, were in the middle of whatever Sukuna was up to. Heβs at your job, now here.
He knew he could practically count the seconds it would take for his bullshit to be revealed, whatever form in came in.
But never mind that.
You were leaving with Megumi.
And thatβs all that mattered...
*~*~*~*~*
You arrived at Megumiβs place before anyone else, as your bestie had arranged for you to have an Uber get you there safely.
Excitement engulfed you as you scanned the quiet, darkΒ atmosphere, despite the subtle chill brushing across your skin. It was a little cold as it often was, the consistent excuse you used to constantly wrap your body around him whenever you came to visit.
It was easy to see the reason he loved having you around. Your warmth brought the kind of life to his space that simply didnβt exist unless youβre there. You or Tsumiki, of course.
At this moment, the only light that shone in the apartment glowed through the tall windows from the streets outside, which was now dusted with white from snowflakes fluttering quietly to the ground.
Megumi closed the door behind you with a soft click as you wandered in, the jingling sound of him dropping his keys in his deep pocket was just about the only thing you heard as he walked past you toward the couch.
You were both quite intoxicated, eyes small, the room spinning ever so slightly, but somehow completely tolerable since you were safe and sound.
Reflections of the nightβs events flashed in your mind, adoration sparkling in your eyes all over again as you called out to him, your voice piercing softly through the quiet of his space.
βHey.β
He turned your direction, brows raised, glassy, lidded eyes meeting yours with curiosity, that dark gaze somehow even sexier right now, the shadows in this wide open room complementing his dark features, making your heart skip as always.
βI have something for you.β You murmured, nervous, yet excited to present it as your heart fluttered in time with the falling snow.
βYouβve given me too much already.β He replied, his voice soft and slightly raspy, yet somehow still didnβt fail to display the adulation that floated on its frequency, despite the rejection.Β
βYou think so?β You frowned, whining. βI like giving you things.β You mumbled as your hand disappeared into your bag.
He took a few steps back, his calves reaching the couch before he plopped down lazily, sinking his torso against the back, and lifting a leg to rest his foot against the table in front of it.
You plopped down on his left side, crossing your left leg toward him as you placed a small package in his palm.
βItβs um... just a little something I thought youβd like.β You presented it as you shyly hid your lips in your mouth, resting the side of your head on the back of the couch.
He observed your expression through his tipsy gaze, your timidity and the soft glint behind your eyes, warming his heart enough to ignite a fierce spark.
He received your gift reluctantly, cutting his eyes toward you as he opened the small black paper bag that shrouded the package, pulling out a container made of stained wood with a tiny hinge on the lid. It was covered with black roses that appeared to be lightly etched in.
You smiled nervously, pressing your shoulder into the back of the couch. βDo you remember that one song you played the night we met?β
βPlayed a lot of songs that night.β He replied.
βA lot of perfect ones.β You retorted.
He smirked, looking down at the βHeart Shaped Box.β His softened gaze rested on the object in his hand before meeting yours again, βOf course I remember, silly.β
You pursed your lips as you continued. βWell... since then... I think... youβve always had mine. My heart, I mean.β
You couldnβt pinpoint why, after all this time, it still felt difficult to tell him how you feel, as whatever the hindrance was still haunted your heart. βI uhm... the box was too plain. I etched the design in.β
He observed it again, astonished.Β
The tiny roses, thorns, and leaves meticulously designed in the etching was stunning, the notion that it was done by hand forcing a wrinkle in his brow.Β Was there no end to your talent?Β He thought, a huff escaping his nostrils behind a faint smile.
βYou did this?β
You shrugged a coy shoulder, βOpen it.β
He pressed his thumb against the flattened side of the heart shaped box to lift the lid.Β On the inside, which had a black fabric lining, was what appeared to be a black bracelet.
It was genuine leather, braided, and sturdy, but thin enough to not weigh him down. In the center of the bracelet was a small, round, black crystal.
He tilted his head as he hooked a finger through it, lifting it from the case, sliding his thumb across the braiding. The texture felt good on his skin. βSβnice.β
βNow, look inside.β You grabbed the remote from the table, clicking on the light, dimming it in response to his retreat from the sudden harsh glare from the ceiling.
He met your gaze, confused. βInside?β
Another nod, βLook inside the crystalβ.
He squinted, at the thing, and first glance, it appeared that what you said didnβt make much sense. But he lifted it, bringing it closer to his eyes.Β
βAllow a little light to shine through.β
He followed your request, lifting it higher, passing light through it. The inside revealed a photo of you. An image that he recalled from the very first night heβd met you.
It was a shot of you sitting, leaning back at the bar, in the very outfit and hairstyle youβd worn as your head tilted back and your eyes looked directly into the camera.
Your lips were slightly puckered over the stunning curve of your neck, and theΒ affect of the light from behind the crystal perfectly complemented your natural glow.
That look in your eyes, the one that had already been etched into his memory from that night as he stood at the bar, the moment he realized you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen was right there, vividly preserved.
And he could see it again any time he wanted.
His heart skipped a beat at the sight, then pulsed again like a thousand drums.
He stared into it a few moments, waiting for his heart rate to calm before he blinked slowly, turning back to glance at your face. Your beautiful anticipatory smile shining back at him.
βWhat do you think?β
That disappearing smirk flashed again, βNo more gifts.β as he turned toward you.
He leaned in, the bracelet slipping around his palm as his calloused drummer hand cupped your face and his fingers curled around to your nape.
His thumb lightly brushed your chin and across your neck, βItβs my turn to give stuff to you.β
You huffed, clicking the light back off to restore the darker, more comfortable mood as you frowned, βNo way, rock-star. Itβs your birthday.β
You turned on his system,
Led Zepplin β The Rain Song
playing softly in the background.
βI donβt care.β He purred, his thumb pressing against your chin to turn your head as he buried his face in your neck, inhaling you. His parted lips slid along your pulse point, and then up to your earlobe which vanished between his lips.
The ticklish sensation shrank your shoulder toward your kissed lobe. You giggled as the feeling of him messing with you had your entire body tingling and a shiver trickling down your spine.
βOur people will be here soon.β You complained, as if you wanted him to stop, and his right hand slipped beneath the left shoulder of your jacket.
βWill they?β he breathed into the shell of your ear.
βY-yeah...β You settled into the moment, soaking up his energy as the tingling sensation crept deeper toward your spine and down your leg.Β
Yet you paused, eyes widening, as a light bulb went on in your head. You peeled your neck from his lips, staring at him in shock. βWhat did you do?β
A grin played at his lips as his big sleepy eyes held your gaze. βI told them to get lost.β
Your jaw dropped, βAre you kidding me?β
βTch... I kid you not.β
βMegz!β
He met your words with his lips, swallowing them whole, his hand still wrapped in his bracelet, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. The taste of your tongue sending a tingle straight to his groin, spreading through every limb.
Yet somehow, in the middle of this intimate moment, a flash of a face belonging to none other than Sukuna, appeared in his mind.
His fingers twitched against your skin, his face scrunching into a frown, even as your lips were connected, and your soft, warm mouth parted wider to welcome his eager tongue.
Out of pure instinct, or maybe just reflexive reaction, Megumi nearly broke the kiss behind the image in his head, yet rebelled against his overly intrusive thoughts.
His thumb slid down your throat as his fingers curled around, resting in that familiar and comfortable position which, somehow now, carried a touch more intensity and possessiveness as you shuddered against it.
βYou were... fascinating tonightβ. He spoke, his lips still connected to yours.
You giggled as his lips made yours tingle. βThank you.β you whispered back, the sound of his voice vibrating straight to your core. βAnd you already said that.β
He pulled back a little to take in your smile, pausing a long moment to enjoy it.Β He shook his head slowly, βYou donβt understand. You wereΒ spectacular.β
He rendered you completely timid all over again, complementing your performance. It was the kind of acknowledgment you donβt remember ever receiving from others.
Well, some did say that you were good. But none as professional and supportive as he. His validation meant more to you than your own fatherβs.Β
Not that youβd received much in that area from him.
Calling you to help him with work is one thing. But giving you real credit for your work was a stretch, and usually followed by an insult, or an expectation for you to humble yourself immediately after.
βYouβre special...β Megumi continued, still watching you shrink, your gaze leaving his as he poured it on thicker with a straight face... βand brilliant. And your voice is beautiful. Everyone should hear more.β
You buried your face in his palm as it rested in his hand, only to have him turn it to face his.
βLet me be your drummer.β
β¦ What? β¦
You nearly said that out loud.
Butβ¦ It was a simple statement. Or... question?Β
Regardless, you didnβt think youβd even heard him correctly.
And if you did, you didnβt believe it was feasible.Β
Megumi? Playing forΒ you? No way.Β
You canβt pay him for that. And you didnβt know if heβd even have the time with all of his own work.
Your head began to shake slowly as it tilted to one side, βM β Megz, you donβt have to...β you cut your self off, entertaining the notion that heβs just being nice, offering out of obligation or... βI canβt ask you toβ β you sighed. βI canβt afford toΒ pay youΒ for that kind of...β
βIβm your drummer.β He stated, matter-of-factly. βAnd you didnβt ask. I did.β
Your breath staggered on your inhale, fear welling up in your gut that somehow, someway... you just might disappoint him.
IfΒ he actually did this for you.
He stared at your face for a long while, watching your wheels turning again.
βStop that.β he frowned. βYouβre worthy. Just like any of the rest of us.β
You nodded faintly, embarrassed that youβd done exactly what you were trying to avoid. Again. As far as you were concerned, this man was already larger than life, and it was hard enough to believe you were such a huge part of his.
βI told you, Iβm giving to you now.β He murmured, closing the gap between your face and his lips as he slid them along your jaw.
βI wonβt allow you to neglect my favorite person. Let her have what she deserves.β... He pulled back, your glazed over eyes threatening tears. βAre we clear?β
Your blush swept softly across your cheeks as you nodded again, a tiny smile forcing itβs way through. βCrystal.β
βGood.β Megumi replied, his hand wrapping halfway across your neck as he leaned in to kiss you again. βAnd now that I have your heart,β he squeezed gently, murmuring between kisses, your pulse beating softly against his palm, βIt doesnβt belong to you anymore.β
A warm smile, βThatβs the idea, genius.β you drawled against his lips.
A huff of air ghosted across your face from his nostrils with before he continued, βYeah, but... what about the rest?β his expression melting again into one more serious, his eyes searching and stopping briefly at every beautiful feature on your face, before meeting yours again. βIs that mine, too?β
You lifted your left thigh to relax it across his lap as you turned settling into his space, even closer. βObviously.β you replied, your hand moving to grip his top at his waist as you pulled him closer still.
A whisper leaves him, like a prayer. βThen donβt leave.β
βWhat?β you huffed, βWhy would I leβ?β
βEver.β He interrupted. βDonβt leave... anymore.β
Your heart felt as if it had suddenly expanded, beating against your ribs. You swallowed hard, the haze of the alcohol clouding your mind as you attempted to grasp what you thought he meant.Β
Or... what you thought youΒ heardΒ maybe?
βY βYou mean... you want me t βto...β
βYeah.β
You froze, unable to break your gaze from his. You blinked, or... tried to blink, despite your eyes as wide as a deer in headlights.
It would have been nice to respond.
To sayΒ something...
But it seemed all you could do was breathe.
Your lips moved ever so slightly, as if in an attempt to form words but they wouldnβt come. Especially since you had no idea which ones to release first.
But just for the record, βYou want me toβ¦ stay here?β you clarified.
He nodded. βI canβt...β his eyes left yours for a moment, βuhm...β frowning again as he rationalized.
An uneasiness stirred in him as he raised his hand to swipe his fingers quickly through his jet-black crown, then squinted as he spoke. βI justβ¦ need you here.β
He noted your hesitance, βYou donβt have to answer now.β and rested his head slowly against the back of the couch, then turned his face again toward you.
You fixed your eyes on his pout, wondering if the liquor had gotten to him too much this time. βYouβre too tipsy.β
He sighed, unable to subdue the anxiety that seemed to press into his chest, then laughed at himself and your comment with a subtle huff. βI have two keys on my ring. Whenever you want one, itβs yours.β
It was nearly impossible to imagine. At least for you at the moment.
Is he serious?
ThatΒ serious?
βToo much?β he asked, far more than dead serious, despite the liquid courage.
Your body seemed to implode within itself with a million emotions. Regardless, heβd stolen your breath all over again.
Through the still and quiet, the kind you were used to in his place, the wind whistling softly across his windows as the cold fell from the sky.
The dim moonlight reflected from the snowflakes like sparkles as you drew closer to him, your body temperature opposing that of the outside world.
Your warm breath ghosted across his lips as you planted a soft, lingering kiss. The only sounds in the room were of your lips and beating hearts as you gripped the side of shirt and the kiss deepened.
Megumi relaxed into the plush of the couch, melting into your touch, his hands limp at his sides as you took your kiss.
His darkened gaze floated across the pink of your cheeks heightening his anxiety to have you in this place thatβs filled with your presence far more not than often.
Into the Blue β Galleaux
played softly into the room as you lifted a hand to cup his cheek.
He shuddered as it slid lower, fingertips trickling along the curve of his Adams apple, goosebumps pricking across his skin. His pulse quickened as your tongue slipped deeper into his open mouth.
A soft moan vibrated from your chords against his lips, his eyes rolling back as the feel, taste, and sound of you filled his senses since for the first time tonight, he finally had you all to himself.
Your fingers traveled lower, riding the curves of his chest, brushing lightly across his perked bud from over his shirt, then lower, slipping under the fabric until his obliques constricted against your fingertips.
Pleasing Megumi made your heart ache, and watching him squirm under your controlled touch was enough to drown you in the depths of desire.
Your thumb pressed into his belly, tickling his side until It was his turn to moan, the deep, guttural vibration piercing straight to your core.
His right hand gripped the thick fabric over the edge of the cushion as your soft hands against the taught skin of his defined abdomen sent rushes of excitement through him.
He opened his mouth wider as your fingers reached their destination and you took your time at his leather belt. You pulled the strap over the buckle, anxiety building as the metal clinked loudly in your ears.
You then tugged the fabric around the button on his jeans that enclosed him, pulling it loose, then gripping the zipper to slide it down slowly as its length curved around his now rock hard manhood.
Your hand slipped past the opening, consuming the space between his boxers and his jeans, the heat from his cock warming you even more.
Megumi pressed himself against your hand, another helpless moan leaving his lips, breaking the kiss to beg. βCan I fuck you, please?β he grunted breathily, his blown out pupils burrowing into yours as you slowly groped his impressive length which snaked along his leg from under his pants. βIβve been waiting all night.β
Your palm rested along its wide curve, then smoothly slid against its length as he anxiously watched the movement from over the blue fabric.
βYouβre asking so kindly...β you whispered as a shudder trickled down your spine, and you walls clenched in anticipation.
The chill in the room seemed to have gone completely, eclipsed by the overwhelming heat between you.
βHmphβ¦β he breathed with a fading smirk. βYou wonβt think Iβm so βkindβ in a minute.β
βMmmβ¦ Is that a threat, Fushiguro?β
Megumiβs hand moved from the couch to the curve of your neck to pull you in, closing the small distance filled with your words as he spoke into your lips, βIs that a βyesβ?β
You snickered, βI havenβt decided yetβ¦ Maybe I just wanna play with you.β
βSuch a fucking tease.β he replied through his teeth.
βMaybe I am. But you like it.β You murmured, your hand gently squeezing his length which continued to grow. βAnd I thought you didnβt want anymore gifts?β you said, his free arm rested between your breasts.
βAnd I meant it.β he huffed, bucking into your hand again. βYouβre already mine.β
played as a low growl erupted from his chest, and your soft hand curled around his cock, his heart drumming a solo against his ribs. βFuck.β
You worked to release it from its confines, your eyes widening as they rested on its shiny round head. You tightened your grip a little, his hot muscle sliding through your rounded palm.
Megumi squeezed his eyes shut as he pumped himself through your grip, his parted lips touching yours as he practically whimpered.
βFeel good, baby?β you breathed into his mouth.
βHa~ahβ¦ yeah.β he pumped faster. βStop teasing me...β
You flicked out your tongue, sliding it along his lips, bottom to top, another soft kiss to the bottom. Your thumb traced smoothly along the curve of his glans, capturing the clear fluid that escaped.
He hissed as your soft hand stroked his entire length, precum making the glide smoother. His eyes fluttered shut, hips bucking erratically faster.
His veiny length grew hotter against your palm, your legs pressing together, hips responding as you recalled the feeling of him stretching you with that beautiful tool.
You licked your lips as you left his face, leaning in to his cock, planting an open mouthed kiss to the head, wetting it with a drizzle of your saliva.
Megumiβs eyes flicked open to watch as you kissed it a few more times, teasingly, only the tip, your tongue sliding along his slit.
You hovered, dropping more saliva, pupils blossoming as you watched it drip against your hand and you jerked him off faster.
The wrinkle in his brow deepened and his head fell back against the couch as you wet his throbbing cock.
More liquid seeped from him as you watched his beautiful face with fire in your eyes; red cheeks, parted lips, deep, sensual, broken moans erupting from his chest as he was unable to decide whether to keep his head rested against the couch, or watch you finish him off.
With your free hand, you gripped the hem of his shirt, lifting it to his neck as your eyes took in every curve of his chiseled torso.
He lifted his back from the couch, pulling his top off completely. You leaned in to plant open mouthed kisses on his lower abdomen, and your hand continued to stroke him faster, kisses moving higher up his chest.
You pressed your face into the crook of his neck as your hand worked him toward orgasm and you whispered, βCum for me baby.β
He thrusted even harder, eagerly, heaving sharp breaths through his teeth.
βF-fuck,fuck!!!β he murmured, one hand gripping the life from his cushion, the other slipping between your clenched thighs, fingers grazing your intimacy.
You tightened your grip a little more, stroking a few more times, skin taught around his hard, veiny muscle, until finally he warnedβ¦
βIβm β¦ gonna cum! β¦ a~ah! Cumming!β
His body convulsed, deep groans erupting from his chest as he pumped creamy white into your soft hand.
Your bottom lip disappeared behind your teeth as you smoothed his arousal along his thick length, your lusty gaze resting on his reddened face as you watched him ride out his high.
He cut his glazed over eyes toward you, his mouth hanging open, still hard as he huffed.
βSo fucking hot.β you mumbled, barely above a whisper as you smirked, trembling as your hand slid along his shaft, the look on his face driving you nearly feral.
Whale and Wasp β Alice in Chains
You looked absolutely predatory like that, hovering over him, his cum melting along your hand as you lifted your fingers, slipping one past your lips as you tasted him.
βYouβ¦ fuckingβ¦ gorgeous creature.β He panted, shuddering as his dick twitched at the sight of you, his grip tightening around your inner thigh.
You quickly wiped your hand clean, then straddled him, hinging forward, knees pressing into the couch as you cupped his face with both hands, your lips hovering before pressing softly against his, a deep, passionate kiss.
He lifted his hips from between your legs to remove his pants, pulling them down to rest at his thighs as he used his legs to kick them off completely.
His hands slid up your outer thighs, your bare skin warm against his.
His thumbs hooked under your top as he removed it in one swift motion, your hair cascading in wispy bundles over your face and chest.
His hands glided along the curves of your back as they indulged in the suppleness of your flesh, his right hand curving to rest between your right ass cheek and his thigh, and the other around the line of your back, gripping you at the waist.
He squeezed, hard enough to elicit a moan from your lips as he sucked hot pink blotches into the skin of your supple breasts.
βI want you inside me.β you breathed.
Megumi responded, moving to pull down your panties from under your skirt that now rested like a belt around your hips. His hand was met with yours, as you gently guided it toward your sensitivity.
βYou... can unbutton it from here.β you murmured.
His fingers slid between your legs, following the curve of your intimacy, back, and forth... Back, and forth, gliding along your soft middle, a tiny moan slipping from your lips as they finally located 2 small snaps on the fabric of your panties at your entrance.
His bows pressed into his forehead as he felt where to pull them loose. He flicked his gaze up to yours, and your surprisingly embarrassed expression.
βReally?β he quipped.
Your face reddened as you buried it in his neck.
βTch... shy now?β He drawled, his left hand tightly gripping the back of your hair to pull your head up, forcing you to look into his eyes as he slipped his middle finger around the snap without undoing it, sinking it into your opening with ease as he watched your face contort in pleasure.
His tongue pulled his bottom lip behind his teeth as his thumb moved the buttoned fabric out of the way of his hand for better access.
He slowly thrusted a second finger in and out of your soaked opening, feeling you tighten around them each time.
He leaned into your face, fist still full of your hair, βI told you not to hide that face from me.β he purred, pulling back a little to watch every change in your expression.
Your breaths left your lungs in small pants, βMore...β you begged, as your hips rolled into his hand.
He smirked as you soaked him, his fingers curling inside to reach that sweet spot that always made you fall apart.
You moaned, desperation gripping you as he thrusted them inside, removing them suddenly to detach the snap from your undies, and moved his large hand to grip his throbbing cock.
You lifted your body as he slid the head around your slick against your folds, moistening it with your arousal. It pressed slowly past your entrance, sinking in just past the head, the stretch absolutely delicious.
βNgh!!!β you whimpered, shuddering from the fierce electric current.
He pressed in more, a grin curling into his lips as he felt your walls close around him.
He tightened his grip on your hair, leaning in closer as he pressed his lips into your cheek at the corner of your mouth. βOpen up, babyβ, he purred, as he pressed in even deeper.
βHa-ngh!!!β Your moan was louder this time, velvety walls stretching to accommodate him.
It was music to his ears.
He couldnβt imagine a better sound.
He grunted in response, βLouder.β β¦ he commanded, his cock throbbing from the sound.
He sank deeper⦠bottoming out and resting there, offering you a moment to adjust before pulling back, only to see tears prick at your eyes as they rolled back over your quivering lips.
βSo fucking perfect.β he murmured, deeply satisfied with your beautiful expression.
You trembled as you tried to move, his length reaching places inside that you never could, and your body already responded, threatening a fierce release.
You pushed yourself up by your thighs, pulling him out just a little, the drag along your walls like the perfect massage, eliciting another deep moan as you gripped his hair with one hand as the other arm draped his shoulders.
He rested his hands on your hips as he guided your movement, thrusting up to reach even deeper as you came back down.
βAaaahβ¦.β you whimpered and gasped, as he continued his thrusts, pulling you down on top of him as the friction generated more heat. βM-Megumi!β
βNgh, fuckβ¦β His name dripping from your lips sent him into a deeper frenzy as he buried his face in your chest, filling his mouth with one of your supple breasts, sucking hard enough for his cheeks to cave around your perked nipple.
Your moans became louder, your arousal causing him to slip even deeper, kissing your cervix with every thrust until you wailed,
βIβm ... gonna cum!!β
Megumi wrapped his arms around your waist, pounding into you at a steady, perfect pace until your core gripped him like a vice, and your heat coated him like molten lava.
You were everything he could ever need. And gifting you multiple orgasms in the course of an evening was the best way he could imagine spending his birthday.
Or any other...
*~*~*~*~*
You walked into your corporate gigβs building early the next morning, the skip in your step and the glow in your skin making you more radiant than you had been for days.Β
The harsh florescents beating down from the ceiling pulled no frustration from you today as they normally did.Β Your body still felt Megumi all over it, and was enough to keep your mind occupied for good.
Or, at least until you saw him again.
You spoke to a few people, flashing genuine smiles, and some muted ones to the meanies out of professional duty.
Some came by your desk for answers about manuals youβd recently completed, as there was a rumor going around that there were already plans to use them to train yet another group of employees.
As far as you were concerned, that was perfectly fine since it likely meant youβd have your load lightened at this place even more. That was a welcome change since ironically it seems to have gotten heavier since...Β he showed up.
You finished a teachable moment with a colleague as you made your way to the coffee station, grateful that someone made a fresh pot before youβd arrived.
βAh, niceβ. You murmured as you pulled your favorite mug from the cabinet, sighing to yourself as you washed it at the sink in warm water.
You turned to grab the coffee pot only to see a familiar face out of nowhere, smirking down at you, nearly startling you to death.
Sukuna.
You flinched hard, βGod!β you nearly yelped, pressing your free hand against your chest.
βNot quite.β He responded, his smirk quickly widening into a sly smile. βI was wondering if it was gonna be a good morning.β he swiped the hot pot from the maker before you did, pouring its contents into his over-sized cup, taking way too much.
βLooks like it is.β he said, casually turning the cup into his mouth as if it wasnβt scorching, or bitter.
You raised a brow, gripping the handle of the pot as you took it for yourself, pouring the remainder in your pink Volkswagen mug. βGood morning, Sukuna.β you spoke with an exhausted tone, rotating your shoulders to pass him as you headed to the fridge.
He took a quick glance around the room, checking for passers by or listening ears. βYouβve uh... got quite the set of pipes on you.β he praised, relaxing his large body against the sink as his biceps bulged from his arm propping himself up with it.
You looked up at him from your angle at the refrigerator door, pulling out the βItalian Cremeβ.
βThanks.β you said dryly, suddenly remembering to address something.
βSpeaking of... would you mind telling me exactly what you were doing at that venue last night?β
His lips turned down in the corners as he shrugged, βListening to music?β he replied, squinting as if he didnβt understand your question, then smiling as if he did.
βYou know what I mean, Sukuna.β You tried not to slam the door before you walked the creamer back over to your coffee. βThat was a private event.β
βHmph, well that doesnβt make much sense. If that were true, I wouldnβt have been allowed in.β he replied mockingly. βBesides that, where I go outside of work hours is none of your business now, is it?β He said smoothly.
You huffed, βThatβs the point though, right?β you finished stirring in the cream, turning toward him. βThereβs like...β you shrugged, βI dunno... thirty different clubs in this area? Of all of βem, how did you end up there?β
βI got a tip from a friend that there was a show.β
You scoffed. βA friend?β
βYeah.β
βDid that βfriendβ happen to have that information on a computer?β
βLike I said, none of your business.β
βIt is if you took the location from my personal files.β You stared at him, shaking your head. βLetβs not play this game. How could you invade my privacy like that?β
He cocked his head sideways, βWeβve already made you aware that these computers, and all the information on them areΒ companyΒ property.β
He leaned forward a bit, careful to maintain a healthy workplace boundary as he continued. βIf you want privacy, perhaps you should use a different computer.β
You clenched your teeth behind your jaw. βYou had to have a reason.β your eyes cutting into his nonchalant gaze, βNo one does something like that for nothing.β
His eyes raked over you in a mildly inappropriate manner. He smirked, crossing his chiseled arm over his broad chest, propping his hand under the bicep that held up his ridiculously large mug.
βIβm a musician.β his lips turned down in the corners with a shrug. βI tend to be where music is.β
βTch. So Iβve heard.β
βHave you?β
βYouΒ knowΒ I have.β
He held your gaze a moment, his devious smile widening. βThen did you also hear my bandβll be playing there in a month?β
βWhat?!βΒ you flinched at your own voice, which was a little too loud for the office break-room. Your eyes quickly scanned your surroundings, colleagues passing by with confused faces, your blood nearly reaching a boiling point.
βYeah... get someΒ goodΒ music coming out of that spot for once. Show this city what a real rock band sounds like.β His smile was far too bright and genuine for such a disrespectful comment.
If looks could kill, youβd have gotten him workmanβs comp at the very least. βYou cant be serious.β
βAs a heart attack.β
You scoffed, βUnbelievable.β you stared at him a while, blown away by his audacity, yet he just seemed to like the attention. βDonβt you have something better to do?β
βYes. As a matter of fact, I do.β His eyes raked over you again, slower this time, enough to send a little shudder through you. βAnd so do you.β
βAnd whatΒ exactlyΒ is that supposed to mean?β
He chuckled darkly as he turned on his heels out of the break room wearing a sly grin, another employee stopping him for help almost immediately as he hit the corridor.
Your face scrunched, nose flared, eyes fluttering as you grabbed your mug and walked to your desk thinking how that man was truly a piece of work.Β
Literally.
And off all places, you had to be here with him, for hours on end.
You settled into your seat, re-adjusting, remembering that you wanted to finish a few lyrics to a new song today while you were on your break. Yet, after that little run-in with Sukuna, you felt it really would be best to just to leave all of your personal work at home.
You couldnβt imagine putting Megumi in another difficult situation.
Not after this.
After a few minutes, your phone dings with a text:
Tsumiki: Hey Love! Nobara and I are getting soba for lunch. Wanna come?
You were so happy to hear from them. It was an immediate relief.
You: Absolutely! I miss you guys, already. Sorry about last night.
Tsumiki: no need to apologize, it was his day. we understood.
You: yeah, but... well... weβll talk about it later. Text the addy?
Tsumiki: Yup. C u there!
Youβd actually felt a little guilty that Megumi cut them off last night, especially since Tsumiki only had so much time to stay with you all before she had to be back.
If she hadnβt planned to stay for several days, you likely wouldnβt have let him get away with it, but she didnβt have to leave yet and as she said, it was his birthday.
βYouβre here.β
A familiar voice called out to you as youβre hunched over at your desk on your phone. You turned to see Geto sauntering toward you.
Whatβs up? you asked, taking another sip of your coffee, the warmth actually relaxing you a bit as you swiveled your seat around to face him.
βSo... it looks like weβll need you on another training module.β
βW-what?β Your knee-jerk reaction was frustration, displayed far to clearly in your expression. You quickly straightened your face as you remembered you were in front of a person who could actually fire you. βS-sorry.β
Geto paused a moment, chuckling to himself as he smacked the back of the pen he was holding in his opposite palm. βLook, Iβm not picking on you, okay? If you recall, we discussed that thereβd be another one.β
βI just... wasnβt expecting it so soon.β
He nodded, βUnderstandable. But youΒ areΒ one of the best and primary trainers on the team, so naturally youβd be chosen to participate. This is your work, remember?β
You grimaced a little at his very valid point. βRight, but I cant get a break on this? I volunteered to fill in last time.β
βTrue, but this one is mandatory for leads. We just finalized the details in a meeting yesterday. Itβll be our second module for this term, and hopefully the last for quite some time.β
Whatβs the time frame looking like?
βWe wonβt be leaving for another two weeks, so no rush this time. But weβll be heading to Okinawa.β
βWow. Okinawa?β
βYes. Sukuna says it ββ
βSukuna?β
βYes. It was actually his idea. Heβs responsible for handpicking staff and location for training modules. He felt the serene atmosphere will be a nice break, and...β he snickered a little, βconsidering how hard heβs worked, hoping for a personal vacation that likely wonβt come for a while. I think heβs right.β
Your wheels turned violently in your head as your brows threaded together, βRight...β your eyes darting to and fro as you tried to make sense of it all.
βItβll be a two week stretch so... not as long as the first trip. And no big language gap this time.β
βOkay... Uhmββ
βAlso, there happens to be a convention there for the higher ups, so weβll have a dinner to attend... be sure to be prepared for that. Itβs formal.β
Your heart sank into your chest as Geto went on, talks of formalities, fancy rooms, cocktail dresses, business dinners and beaches.
But a light bulb went on in your head, a glimmer of hope, even excitement behind your eyes as you posed the question. βI noticed that some of the staff, on the last trip, were able to bring a plus one... can Iβ?β
βIβm afraid not. Weβve already hit capacity and...β he frowned β...Well, I donβt mean to sound presumptuous but... I wasnβt aware that you had someone. I mightβve considered that had I known.β
You smiled, uncomfortably, the notion of bringing work colleagues into your personal life making you cringe. βI do. Iβm really hoping I could bring him along.β
βYeah, thatβs not possible... Maybe next time.β Sukuna says happily, boldly cutting into your conversation as he sauntered toward you and Geto.
You pursed your lips as you hiked a brow, body tensing as you took a deep breath, hoping heβd leave soon.
βWeβve already chosen the staff, and this trip will be a little different. No βplus-onesβ this time.β You raised your gaze and he met it with a tilt of his head. βJust us.β
Clearly, Megumi was right. But then, when was he not?
Sukunaβs already infiltrated your work, Megumiβs work, and now you have the sneaking suspicion heβs attempting to interfere in your relationship?
It was getting out of fucking hand.
And you obviously had no idea how far Sukuna was willing to push. But you were getting one. And fast.
You took a deep breath. βOkay then.β your eyes met Getoβs. βIβll be sure to prepare myself. Will you send details?β
βI will.β Sukuna interjected, crossing his thick muscular arms against his chest again, his weight shifting backward a little as his tattoos peeked through the sleeves of his perfectly pressed oxford. βIβll be sure to give you everything you need.β he replied, his lips turning up ever so slightly in the corners.
You nodded slowly, noting his slick talk, thanked them as they wrapped up, then turned back to your desk to finish your work.
*~*~*~*~*
Megumiβs band decided to rehearse at Nanamiβs since the studio was being rented out by another band. Choso had disappeared into the office for a while, as Megumi and the others went over a few things.
βWe can take a break for now. But weβve still got three more to finish, including Makiβs.β Megumi said, changing one of the high hats on his kit.
βIts about damn time!β Yuji yelled from the bar, receiving deliveries and prepping for the night.
Yuta raised a brow, βYeah, it is.β he murmured.
Maki snapped her head toward him. βWhat?! Not you, too...β
Yuta shrugged. βWeβve been waiting forever for you to let us play it. Youβre too good to let your music sit this long without exposure.β
βWell, I need it to be exactly the way I want it before I let anyone else in on it!β
βI mean, youβre not wrong, but... neither is he.β Megumi interjected.
βOh, be quiet.β Maki grumbled.
Yuta chuckled as he and Megumi shared a knowing glance.
βItβs not like I havenβt wanted to perform it.β She replied. βItβs just... a certain someone kind of inspired me recently.β she hiked a shoulder.
βAwww Iβm glad to have encouraged you.β Yuta responded with a warm smile.
βNot you, idiot!β Maki snapped. She shook her head, eyes meeting Megumiβs. βThat girlβs got no idea how much of a force she can be.β
Megumi looked down at his hand as he quickly twirled his stick, his heart warming as he thought of you. If only Maki knew how right she really was.
At that moment, Choso sauntered out of the office, nose flared.βYouβre not gonna believe this shit.β He said, relatively calmly to Megumi as he walked up, despite the implied urgency.
Chosoβs eyes scanned the room, catching eye contact with each of them. βCome with me.β He turned toward the bar, βYuji! You too, bro.β he said, waving for him to join them as they migrated to Nanamiβs office.
*~*~*~*~*
βHeβs just going to do a couple nights a week to help bring in more cash.β Mei advised, arms crossed as she helped Nanami deliver the news to the band.
Megumi scoffed, arms sinking into his pockets as he closed his eyes, his head dropping down, βI knew itβ written all over his face.
βExcuse me?β Maki squinted under a deep frown, working to grasp what the hell was going on.
βYou canβt do everything alone Megumi.β Nanami added. βThis is business.β
βI havenβt been.β Megumi retorted, head still angled down as he looked up at Nanami. βAnd there are other bands here. Bands whoβve been waiting in line, patiently, to open for us.β
βTrue, but none as popular as they are. And with the growth you guys have brought to this venue... we canβt go backwards. Youβve raised the bar, and the crowds are expecting every show to be good.β
Yuji flicked his eyes back and forth between Megumi and Nanami, scrunching his lips in one corner of his mouth.
βWeβll lose money if we donβt get better acts in here. Ones that can meet the standard youβve set for this place.β Mei continued. βThis canβt be about personal issues. It needs to be about profitability. For everyone.β
βHow is this even happening?β Yuta asked. βIsnβt there a β¦ process or something?β
βHeβs already had a conversation with me.β Nanami replied after a long sigh.
βWhen?β Toge whined.
βRight?β Choso added, βHe just got here like five minutes ago.β
βA couple days ago, actually. Before Megumiβs event. He called us and let us know he was in town.β he looked around at all the disappointed faces.
βHer even brought video footage of his band. And reviews. Plus, the only band here that has a bigger following than they do is you.β
βThis Is fucking crazy.β Maki commented.
βJust like the good old days.β Yuta murmured.
βWild.β Toge chimed.
Megumiβs eyes cut toward Nanami in frustration. But he knew to expect something of this nature. Sukuna was a troublemaker. And he was prepared to have to deal with whatever popped up.
Unfortunately, they really were a spectacular band, and the business part was understood. But this was Megumiβs livelihood. And his home.
Not to mention, you.
Sukuna liked getting under his skin, so Megumi knew, even if a little, heβd involve you in the process. And nothing here besides his family and the people in this room were a bigger part of his life now than you are.
βLook, they wont take your place.β Nanami reassured them as he leaned against a stool with his arms crossed. βThey cant. I wonβt even allow it. But weβll still be here when you guys move on to bigger and better things. We need more great bands here. Please work with us on this Megumi.β
*~*~*~*~*
βAre you fucking serious?β
You met her gaze, rolling your eyes. βGirlβ¦β Your heart seemed to twist a little at the tiniest notion of yet another something causing issues in your relationship with Megumi. βIβm already exhausted with his antics. Megumi couldnβt have possibly been more right about himβ.
βWhy the hell does he need to perform here? Isnβt he leaving soon?β Nobara whined. Clearly aggravated.
βNot that I know of.β You replied. βHeβs supposed to be at the office for quite a while now, God knows how long. He worked at a branch closer to the college he attended with Megumi.β
Tsumiki nodded slowly, a knowing look on her face.
You glanced over, feeling the knot in your chest tighten, working to make out the meaning behind her expression behind a wrinkled brow. βWhat?β
βThis is kinda typical.β she sighed, βI meanβ¦ Itβs not like the same thing will happen between you and Megz, butβ¦ Sukuna had a lot to do with his breakupβ¦ from Nanako.β
Paranoia Purple (Live at Electric Lady) β Yebba
played on the speaker as your lips parted and you panicked inside. You flattened your back against the cushion of your chair, eyes widening as a quick huff exited your chest.
Tsumiki leaned in, her hand resting on your forearm. βLook, I only mentioned it because heβs trouble. Itβs just a heads up. Thatβs all. Heβs not the type to back off easily. I just want you to keep that in mind.β
Your heart felt heavy in your chest as your gaze floated over to Nobara who looked just about as concerned as you felt.
βNoby?β you said her name as if pleading for some sign of relief.
βSheβs right.β Nobara said, genuinely. βYour relationship with Megumi is about you and him. Not Sukuna.β She smiled. βYou love him, right?β
You huffed, nodding. βWithout question.β
βThen everythingβll be fine.β She reassured, βYou love him. I mean, the only real question weβre asking here is, what could Sukuna possibly do to change that?β She rested her hand on your other arm. βRight?β
You glanced back and forth between the two of them, with another nod. βRight.β You echoed. βThe answer is simple. Nothing.β You swallowed hard as the bad feeling in your chest seemed to spread through to your nerves.
Regardless how you felt, or what you thought, this entire scene was exhausting. This shouldnβt be happening. You were sure it wore on your friends too, as they practically consoled you.
But It was.
Why though? Because some random guy decides he wants to play around in your personal life? Toy with your well being as if it were worthless?
βThis is β¦ ridiculous.β you said, your head shaking in disbelief. βWhy is this happening?β
Tsumiki scrunched her lips in the corner of her mouth. βHow could it not?β she then smiled, pressing her lips together. βYou have a great thing going with Megumi. Thatβs not easy to find. People who feel they canβt, will either want to take it, or destroy it.β
She leaned in, relaxing her shoulders. βYou donβt have anything to prove. But sometimes we all have to protect what we love.β
You turned to see Nobara smiling as well, clearly in agreement. Her eyes then suddenly flicked around as if she were in deep thought.
βYou recall what happened when Nanako showed up at Megumiβs?β
You crossed your arms in front of you, resting them on the table. βYeah. Now that you mention it, you never told me what happened out there.β
It suddenly dawned on you that you hadnβt even bothered to ask Megumi.
βHe checked her. Cleanly.β she said, her brows pressing into her forehead. βShe practically whined like a baby about how she was the greatest girlfriend heβd ever had, as her sister stood by and said nothing.β
She continued: βMegumi said, βWhat makes you think that?β
Her reply was, βIsnβt it obvious? Sukuna and I tried so hard to help you, and you just ββ
Megumi Interrupts her and says, βIβm gonna stop you right there. Do you hear yourself? Even now, as you blatantly disrespect my work, my friends, my home, and my girlfriend, you bring up another man.
Nanako pleaded, nonsensically, βSukuna knows all kinds of people in the industry! He was just trying to help. To make things better for you!ββ
βIt didnβt mean much to me at that time to hear his name, since I had no idea who he was. But now, it all makes sense.β
βMegumi realized how sad she looked, still gnawing away at that bone, with no understanding of how sick it was making her. βAnd just exactly how well did putting him before me work out for you?ββ
βOofβ¦ When he said that, even I felt bad for her. It was fucking embarrassing. But kinda hilarious at the same time, becauseβ¦ well, we all know how much trouble sheβd caused.β
βHe stepped closer to her, with a straight face, and asked, βWhen does your shame kick in? You were so sure I wouldnβt be where I am. That I wouldnβt go where Iβm going.β
βYou have light years to travel before coming anywhere close to the woman I have now. Iβve never met anyone better. Go home. And donβt come back here, or thingsβll get a whole lot worse for you.ββ
Your froze in place listening to her, your lips parting as your heart skipped.
You had a clue, based on his behavior those nights in his office, but you didnβt realize how commanding, and frankly a little scary Megumi could be.
If it were at all possible, you suddenly found him even hotter, wondering how you could get in trouble with him again...
Wild Horses β The Sundays
]played on the speakers as you recalled how youβd passed out after he went to talk to her. Yet you had no recollection of the conversation, since nowhere in your mind did you think you couldnβt trust him.
And you were absolutely right.
βMegumi is head over heels for you.β Nobara said. βHe wont just let some guy come in and ruin that.β Her heart warmed as she spoke of it.
Sheβs been there with you through several relationships, always wanting for you exactly what you have right now.
βYuji told me heβd never heard Megumi speak of any woman that way. The ballβs in your court now.β
Your cheeks warmed visibly at the thought of him. βYea. Youβre right.β You replied, your heart swelling in your chest.
You glanced toward Tsumiki, whoβs lids rested softly over her eyes as a huge smile graced her face.
βWhat was it like for you living with Megumi?β
βTch, oh my God.β She murmured, rolling her eyes playfully. βNot much different than now.β she replied, her smile widening.
βHeβs always been a very serious person. And that was understandable considering what happened with our parents. But I often worried about him since β¦ sometimes β¦ it was like he held the whole world in contempt.β
You peered down at your mug of tea through your lashes, a wrinkle forming in your brow for a moment as you curled your hands around the warm ceramic. βI can only imagine what that mustβve been likeβ.
βIt was tough for a while.β She nodded slowly, βWe made it through, though. Took good care of ourselves. I did laundry and kept the house clean, he made sure to get our groceries and cook the food. And it was always delicious.β
You huffed. βStill is.β
βAndβ¦ he was the one who made sure my grades didnβt slip. He was so structured. Focused. And loyal. Always has been.β
She pressed her lips together through her smirk. βUntil Jr. High, that is.β She chuckled. βI recall often wanting him to relax, and Iβd tease him about it. But in the end, I think we both had a healthy influence on each other.β
βYeah.β you smiled warmly. βYouβre lucky to have each otherβ.
βAnd heβs lucky to have you. He knows that.β
βSpeaking of,β Nobara interjected, βare you planning to go home anytime soon? I feel like I hardly see you these days.β
βOh, uhmβ¦ Yeah.β Your body tensed as you remembered something else you wanted to bring up. Youβd considered not, but you figured they should be the first to find out. You took a deep breath before releasing the words.
βHe uhβ¦ he offered me β¦ a key.β
Complete silence fell on all of you, as four large eyes locked in on your face. βWhat?!β they nearly yelped in unison as you peered at the elderly couple nearby who couldβve been given a heart attack.
βI knowβ¦β you squealed. βI wasnβt ready.β
βWhat do you mean you werenβt ready?β Nobara wailed again too loudly. βIβm not ready!β
You and Tsumiki both laughed.
Tsumikiβs face brightened, βAre you gonna do it?β
You grimaced through your blushy smile, βI donβt know, guys!β you shook out your hands, then planted your palms on your cheeks, βI donβt knooooow!β
Youβd never been asked that before, and still werenβt sure how or what to think about it. It was a huge step.
Even the relationship itself, was of a sort youβd never experienced. And because of it, your world seemed to get bigger and more exciting every day.
In a nutshell, it was fucking scary.
Incredible, but absolutely terrifying.
βWOW.β Nobara replied. Glancing away as it seemed wheels were turning in her head. βThatβsβ¦ Wow.β
βI know.β you retorted. βI need some time to think about it. And he told me thereβs no rush.β
βYeah, thatβs what he told you.β Tsumiki added, βBut knowing him, heβll want some kind of an answer soon, especially for something that huge. I donβt recall him even staying over with, let alone living with anyone besides me.β
βI could kinda tell he was hoping Iβd answer βyesβ right away.β you replied, βBut like Noby said, I havenβt been home for a while, and doing so will give me some time to consider it thoroughly. I owe him at least that, whatever my decision is.β
βI agree.β Tsumiki reassured, βRushing into big decisions is the easiest way to make big mistakes.β she rested her hand on your arm again, βNot that I think it would be a mistake.β
You smiled widely, βThank you. And youβre right. Maybe answering when I get back will give me the time I need.β
βYeah. Take a few days, relax, then you can answer with a clear head.β Nobara noted.
βNo, I meanβ¦ itβs gonna be a few weeks.β you sighed, hunching as you angled your head toward the ceiling. βSukuna. He planned another business trip for my department.β
βOh my God girl... Enough with the bombs! I need to recover!β Nobara whined. βWhat the hell? How is he able to do that?β
You filled your lungs with air before you shrugged. βGeto hired him for that kinda thing. I used to be on that team, but itβs his responsibility now, among other things.β
βUgh. Iβm already too sick of him.β she complained, βCanβt you get someone else to go in your place?β
You sighed, βI wish. I canβt opt out, and I canβt bring anyone along. Best believe I tried.β You pressed your first two fingers into your temple. βAnd, itβs to Okinawa of all places.β
Nobara plopped her back into her seat as she shook her head. βWhat a fucking asshole.β She glanced back toward you. βHeβs trying to corner you.β
βSeems like it.β You replied, becoming more annoyed every moment you spent thinking about it.
βThat guy...β Tsumiki murmured. βHeβs pretty relentless β¦ Justβ¦ prepare yourself. For anything.β Her brow wrinkled. βHeβs probably got all kinds of tricks up his sleeve.β
You nodded again in agreement. βI will. For sure.β
The table vibrates as you all look down for the location of the humβ¦ It was Tsumikiβs cell. Sheβd received a text message from the looks of it.
βItβs Toji.β She says. βHeβs here to pick me up.β She turned toward the large window you all sat next to in the restaurant. You and Nobara both met his gaze. He was waiting just outside in a black Mercedes.
βHe wasnβt going to let me just hang out here without spending some time with him, too.β Tsumiki smiled at the two of you.
You smiled back warmly. βWell, I cant say I blame him.β
βYeah. He can be an ass sometimes butβ¦ we love him.β
You and Nobara both chuckled before you asked, βWill you be here a little while longer?β You were hoping to see more of her before she returned to the States.
βYeah. I have a couple more days.β
βKay. Then we should do this again before you go.β You suggested.
βSounds good.β She says, standing and grabbing her bag before she headed out. βSee ya. And donβt for get what I said, ok? Protect whatβs yours.β
βI will.β You promised as you watched her wave goodbye.
You locked eyes temporarily with Toji as he noted Tsumiki leave the building and head for his car. You raised your hand as if to wave, hoping heβd notice.
He did, and offered you an upward nod as Tsumiki entered the car.
*~*~*~*~*
Nobara walked with you back to your building, the clacking of your heels on the sidewalk accompanying the sound of miscellaneous vehicles rushing by in the busy square of Shinjuku.
βIβll see you tomorrow?β You called out to her as you took a few steps toward your office buildingβs entrance.
βUhmβ¦.β Nobara began, her tone indicating something was on her mind.
βWhatβs up?β
βAre you sure Megumiβs okay waiting for your answer?β
Your brow furrowed as you eyeballed her expression. βYeah. As far as I could tell, he was fine. Maybe a little hopeful, but he didnβt seem worried.β
βOkay.β She replied. βHow long is your trip going to be?β
βTwo, maybe three weeksβ
βReally?β
βYeahβ¦β you replied, your smile fading as you observed her unsettled expression. It was always easy to tell when something weighed on Nobaraβs mind. βIs something wrong?β
βNoβ¦ Iβm just. Wondering if Megz can hold it together for that long without you nowadays.β
βOh, Iβm sure itβs not that big a deal.β You frowned, βHe often has all kinds of company around him.β
βBut he wants you. Apparently all the time now.β she huffed past a tiny smile. βA key? β¦ thatβsβ¦ major.β she looked more concerned than happy. βDo you remember what Yuji told us about him? How he spent a lot of time alone, and that work was so important to him?β
βYeah.β
βWell, he also told me that Megumi is constantly thinking about you. What to do for you, how to take care of you, how to help you... I think heβs hooked. Likeβ¦ in a good way, but β¦ a serious way.β
You tilted your head, βWhat makes you say that?β your eyes growing smaller as you considered the implications of her words.
βAre you saying he loves me?β you huffed, βWe all know that, right?β
βOf course butβ¦β
βI mean, thatβs β¦β you looked away, suddenly recalling that night when he asked you to stay, a few moments that made you wonder a little. βI believe he loves me. But β¦ living together isβ¦β you shook your head. βhe sees women constantly. Gorgeous ones. All the time.β
βSo?β Nobara frowned.
βSoβ¦ what if he sees me on too many bad days in a row? What if β¦ I likeβ¦ pass gas around him?β
Nobara snickered, covering her mouth.
βNo, for real!β You snickered with her as you pushed her shoulder. βWhat if he just... looks at me too long and decides heβs tired of me?β
βOh my God, girl.β
βIβm so serious right now.β And then your concerned look matched hers. βWhat if he canβt stand the sight of me after like a month? Iβll be devastated.β
βYouβre being ridiculous.β she scoffed. βDid you not hear a word I just said? Heβs gone for you, girl. I honestly think youβre it for him.β
βI like things the way they are. I donβt wanna lose him due to his exhaustion with our proximity.β You could feel your heart already hurting at the idea of him finally growing tired of you, as if that had ever happened or threatened to. βMegumi isnβt exactly easy to pleaseβ¦ I donβt wanna mess things up.β
Nobara sighed, the look of concern morphing into one of pity. βWe can talk about it later, okay?β She replied, leaning in as she gripped your arm. βHave a good day at work, love.
You lifted your arms, wrapping her in a tight hug, then kissing her on the cheek. βYou, too.β
*~*~*~*~*
Your workdays were always pretty stressful.
But today it seemed they, well, Sukuna specifically, were extra desperate to have all of your time since there was a trip to plan. However, you managed to rip yourself away after briefly speaking with Geto about your job description in detail, avoiding an excessive dig into your personal time.
You usually got home around five, but today it was seven forty-five before you even left the building.
Your legs and back were aching, so you decided to request an Uber during your last meeting since you were too exhausted to bother walking to the station, sitting around on cold benches to wait for the train, or standing in one for a prolonged period, then walking the rest of the way home.
The Uber arrived on time, and you were quite satisfied that Geto ordered a nice one. Your eyes felt like weights as you entered the vehicle, and the nice condition of the ride made you even more relaxed. The seats were plush and soft to the touch.
Just as you tilted your head against the leather cushion of the back seat in the car, the nice fragrance in the interior, the hum of the engine, and the muted nightlights outside the window lulled you right to sleep.
Your head bobbed along the back of the seat, seemingly for just a moment, only for the driver to suddenly call your name as he reached your building. βMaβam, youβre home.β He said, peering through the rear-view, waking you up just before you reached rem.
βUghβ¦β you were slightly disoriented, just making out the front of your building as your eyes adjusted. βIβm so sorry... Thank you!β you replied as you opened the door to exit.
You started up the stairs to the apartment, just realizing you hadnβt turned your phone back on at all after turning it off when you returned from lunch. It seemed you were needed every moment at work, and had no time to use it.
βOh my godβ¦β you grimaced, searching for it as you walked in, only to hear multiple consecutive βdingsβ on it from texts and missed calls the moment you turned it on.
Most of them were from Megumi.
Megumi: hey. hope ur day is good. what time will u be home?
2:30PM
Megumi: coming back to my place tonight? Iβm making udon.
3:46PM
Megumi: u must be really busy.
5:00PM
Megumi:??Havenβt heard from you. Everything OK??
7:03PM
Megumi: Starting to worry. Call me when you get home.
8:30PM
You called immediately.
βHello?β
βMegz!β you called out to him, clearly anxious, yet your heart was relieved the moment you heard his voice.
You hadnβt spoken with him since you left his house last night. βGod, Iβm so sorry! Itβs been fucking ridiculous at work today.β
βYeah, I figured.β He replied calmly, relief lacing his voice as you spoke. βYou home?β
βYeah. I just got back. Like, literally two minutes ago.β
βWow.β he paused, a wrinkle forming in his forehead. βOvertime?β
βIβm really sorry, Megz. Geto even scheduled the Uber for me. I passed out in the seat the moment I sat down. I forgot to turn on my phone.β
βYou got an Uber?β
βYeah.β
βWhy are you getting an Uber when you have a man at your beck and call?β
You chuckled, dropping the keys on the kitchen counter along with the rest of your stuff. ββBeck and call?β Really? You had rehearsal didnβt you?β
βYeah, butβ¦ I own the place?β
Another chuckle. βRight. Mβsorry sweetie. I promise Iβll call you if this happens again.β
βYou donβt have to apologize β¦ But Iβd rather you promise me youβll never pass out in one of those alone again... orβ¦ at the very least, text me or Nobara your info and location.β
βYeahβ¦ Youβre right.β You grimaced, realizing you could have awakened in any number of strange placesβ¦ or not at all.
βWell, hopefully soon youβll be staying here more often instead.β he replied casually.
It fell silent on the phone for a moment, your mind reeling a little.
ββ¦ Or β¦ not?β he murmured.
You stopped yourself just before apologizing again. βIβm just... taking some time to think about it.β
Megumiβs heart sank a little, enough for him to actually feel it move. βWhat can do to help you make your decision?β
βNothing reallyβ¦ I guess Iβm β¦ justβ¦ wanting to not rush it. Iβll have to say goodbye to everything.β
He sighed audibly, βI get it.β his fingers running through his black hair again as he sank deeper into the cushions of the couch.
βIβm starting to miss you too much already.β he said nearly under his breath, looking around at the random little things youβd left behind in his place.
He slid the bracelet you gave him off of his wrist, holding it up to the light to view your pretty face through the crystal.
βKinda lame of me, huh?β
You felt your heart warm as you recalled everything Nobara mentioned about his feelings for you. βOf course not.β It was difficult to hold back your smile as it widened behind a deep blush that he wasnβt able to see over the phone. βAnd I miss you, too.β
You figured maybe this wasnβt the best time to tell him, but you might as well, since you didnβt wanna take the chance that some one else would do it first.
βUhβ¦β you sighed a tired sigh, one that he could tell had a little something extra behind it.
βWhat is it?β he asked his eyes leaving the bracelet as he waited for your reply...
Notes: As always, I welcome any and all critiques, suggestions, and comments regarding my work, since I truly feel all of those may make me a much better writer! I sincerely appreciate you taking the time to read my little stories, and if you'd like to be tagged in releases, don't hesitate to comment below! πππΆ
After years of enduring Naoya's cruelty in your marriage, one desperate push at the top of the stairs changes everything.
He falls, but he doesnβt die. He wakes with no memory of who he was, or what he did to you.
With his family desperate to hide the truth and preserve his inheritance, you become his caretaker⦠and his only anchor. The man who once made you flinch at the sound of his footsteps, now follows you around like a lost ghost, soft-eyed and uncertain.
You could tell him the truth. You could walk away, but guilt keeps you here, and love, eventually, makes it hard to leave.
β§βΛβ§ Warnings β§Λββ§
Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Graphic descriptions of domestic abuse, Physical & emotional violence, Amnesia, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy angst, Slow burn romance, Non-con elements, Smut (More warnings will be added when full chapter is posted).
β§βΛβ§ Word Count β§Λββ§
4k+
Λα―½ έΛΒ· β Chap 1 β Λα―½ έΛΒ· - - Λα―½ έΛΒ· β Chap 2 β Λα―½ έΛΒ· -- Λα―½ έΛΒ· β Chap 3 β Λα―½ έΛΒ·
TRIGGER WARNING - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! - TRIGGER WARNING!
You slide the pod into the machine with exaggerated slowness, giving him every chance to follow along.
βOkay, so you put a pod in like thisβ¦β The plastic clicks shut. You glance sideways. He isnβt watching the machine. His eyes are fixed on your face, tracking the small twitch at the corner of your mouth, the brief flicker of your lashes when you blink, the way your jaw tightens for half a second when you realise heβs not paying attention to the task at all.
βNaoya.β The name comes out on a sigh. Your shoulders drop. βYouβre not even looking.β
He flinches, small, quick, like a child caught stealing sweets. βIβm sorryβ he mutters, gaze falling to the counter.Β
This new version of him notices everything now. One frown and his whole posture collapses inward, shoulders rounding, head dipping, as though displeasing you is the worst thing in the world.
The reversal sits strangely with you,Β once you were the one scanning his mood for the coming storm, now he watches you with the same wary hunger you once used on him.
You force your face into that smooth, practised, blank mask you wore for years. Then you offer a small, careful smile. βItβs fine. Letβs try again. Soβ¦ in like this.β You tap the pod. βPush it down. Hit the button.β
He steps closer, always closer, shadow falling over your shoulder while the machine gurgles and hisses. Once you finish, you slide the mug across the marble toward him. Froth wobbles on top, pale and trembling. He stares at it like it might bite, leans in, sniffs once, then recoils.
βSmells bitter.β
You almost scoff. Somewhere beneath the amnesia the old coffee snob still breathes, the one who once sneered at anything that was not freshly ground and pulled by hand. βCoffee is bitterβ you say, keeping your tone light. βTry it.β
He lifts the mug with both hands, cautious, like heβs handling an explosive. After the first sip, his face screws up instantly. He takes a second sip anyway. He swallows and scowls again. But he doesnβt set it down, just keeps sipping, grimacing between each one, like heβs determined to like it just because you made it.
You tear your eyes away, turning toward the hallway. βAnywayβ¦ Iβll show you the doorbell now.β
He follows two steps behind, never more, never less, sipping slowly, a content little smile tugging at his mouth. When you stop at the panel by the front door he steps right up behind you, close enough that you feel the heat radiating off his skin.Β
Your spine stiffens, an old reflex. You wait for the hand on your neck, the shove, the hissed command, but nothing comes. Just his quiet breathing against the back of your neck.
You talk through the settings mechanically, lock, camera, mute, do-not-disturb, words tumbling out while your mind spins worst-case scenarios. What if the old Naoya claws his way back tonight? What if one wrong memory surfaces and he remembers the stairs, the push, the blood? What if this softness is only temporary?
βDonβt let anyone in, okay?β you finish, glancing over your shoulder, almost recoiling when you see how close he's gotten.
He tilts his head inquisitively βWhy?β
The question stops you cold. The old Naoya never asked why. Commands were obeyed, questions were punished.
You swallow anyway. βBecauseβ¦ I want you to be safe.β
He blinks once. Then smiles, a small, shy smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling. βOkay.β As simple as that, content with your display of care.
You slip past him toward the coat closet, shrug into your jacket, fingers fumbling the zipper. He watches every motion, collar smoothed, sleeves tugged down, expression slowly shifting from content to something sadder.
He sets the mug down with a soft clink and steps a little closer, chewing the inside of his cheek hard enough that you see the muscle jump.
βDo youβ¦ do you have to go?β Itβs so quiet itβs almost a whisper.
His hand drifts out, catches your pinky, a light, hesitant, barely there touch.
You rip your hand back before you even register the motion. Your heart presses against your ribs. Fear floods in, cold and familiar, the same adrenaline spike you felt every time he stepped too close.
He sees it, but he doesn't understand it. His brows pinch, lips pursing into an exaggerated pout, so childlike and wounded. For a second you think he might actually cry again.
You drag in a breath. Force yourself to reach out. Take both his hands in yours, despite how your fingers tremble, you pray he doesnβt feel it.
βYesβ you say, pushing brightness into the word that isnβt there. You lift your eyes to his. βI have to go to work, okay?β
He doesnβt answer immediately. Just stares, searching your face, memorising the mask of calm youβre wearing. Then, very slowly, he nods.
But his grip tightens, just a fraction.
He doesnβt let go.
His thumbs brush once across your knuckles. βHow long?β he asks, voice so low you almost miss it.
You freeze. The question hangs there, innocent on the surface, but something beneath it pulls taut.Β
How long until you come back Naoya?.
How long until heβs alone in this house with nothing but lies and half-memories. How long until whatever fragile thing is building between you snaps.
You open your mouth to answer, but the words never come.
β¦Β
Your hands are wrist-deep in compost, the familiar metallic, earthy smell loosening that knot in your chest as you work. You press the bulbs into the dirt at neat intervals, careful to mark each one with the little flags youβd prepared earlier, red for roses, purple for lavender, a routine so ingrained it almost feels like breathing.Β
The greenhouse smells of wet peat and sun-warmed stone, the faint hiss of the misting sprays on the roof punctuating the quiet.
βSo how is he?β Utahime asks gently, looking over from where sheβs kneeling in the dirt beside you.Β
She knows more than most. She caught the worst of it when she found you changing after a shift, purple bruises decorating your ribs, the way you winced when you lifted your arms.
Walking into things stopped cutting it with her eventually.Β
She pried until you spilled the truth, after that she never looked at you the same way again.
You shrug one shoulder, trying not to think about your broken husband back home, a stranger wearing the face of the man youβre still terrified of. βStillβ¦ confusedβ is all you can offer. βHe remembers nothing.β
βIs that a good thing?β she asks. Her brown eyes stay steady on you even as her hands keep moving through the soil.
βHeβs not hurting me anymore.β The words come out quieter than you mean them to, almost swallowed by the hum of the ventilation overhead. It sounds pathetic even to your own ears, that it took half-killing your husband to earn the most basic of reprieve. βSoβ¦ at least thereβs that.β
She stays silent for a long moment, the only sound the soft pat of soil being pressed down. Then she shifts closer, abandoning her row entirely. βAre you still planning to divorce him?β
She keeps her voice low, almost conspiratorial, glancing once toward the glass walls as though expecting someone to be listening. You both know the Zenin family well enough to suspect eyes everywhere, even here.
βYeah.β You keep your eyes on the row of flags, adjusting one that has tilted slightly. βI just need to stay until heβs fit to take over the company again. Then Iβll file the papers.β
You wanted to walk out the moment his eyes opened , the second you knew you hadnβt killed him. But Emiko had begged. The woman you had only ever seen composed, unruffled, always perfect in her Zenin armour, let her face crumple right there in the family room, shoulders trembling as she asked you to help her son. And you, foolish, guilt-ridden, and still wired to obey, had agreed.
βWhat if he remembers?β
Your hands still completely. A faint tremor starts in your fingertips, spreading up your arms until the seedling you hold trembles between them. Your eyes remain fixed on the soil, unblinking, the dark earth blurring at the edges.
βThenβ¦β The word comes out hoarse. You swallow once. βThen Iβll run.β
Utahime doesnβt answer right away. She reaches over slowly, covering your dirt-streaked hand with her gloved one. You feel the tremor travel into her palm but she doesnβt pull away.
βDonβt stay there if it gets bad again, okayβ she says quietly. βPromise me that.β
You nod just once, small and mechanical, because promising anything feels like tempting fate too much.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket, Naoyaβs name glows when you finally pull it out.
He has never texted you before, not once in four years.
The message stares up at you. βPlease come home soon. I donβt feel right without you here.β
You wipe your palms along the thighs of your work pants, staring at the words until they blur.
The weight on your chest pressed in again, sharper this time, pressing against ribs that remember every bruise.
You didnβt want to go back there yet, the house still feels like a trap waiting to spring, every silence heavy with the possibility that the softness in him might crack open and reveal the man who once terrorised your every waking moment.Β
You open the reply field, thumb hovering, trying to find words gentle enough to keep him calm without promising youβll be there soon.
The phone vibrates against your palm before you can type a single letter. Ranta Zeninβs name flashes across the screen.
Youβve seen him only a handful of times, at family gatherings, stood on the edges, quiet and watchful while Naoya filled the room with sharp laughter and sharper commands.
Ranta was gentle where Naoya was rough, soft-spoken where Naoya barked, the kind of man who apologised when he even brushed past someone in a hallway. He didnβt seem to fit in that family, yet he did all the same.
Emiko had assigned him to watch over Naoya after the accident, terrified the rest of the Zenin clan would sniff out the truth and turn the heir into a liability. He never looked at you with pity or judgment, only with the careful neutrality of someone who understood the cost of loyalty in that family.
You answer on the second ring. βHello?β
βNaoyaβs locked himself in the bedroom and wonβt respond.β Rantaβs voice comes fast, clipped with worry he doesnβt bother to hide. βIβm worried somethingβs happened.β
Your stomach drops. βHe just texted me. Whatβs going on?β
You stand, wiping your hands again on the bib of your overalls again, phone clamped between ear and shoulder as you move toward the break room. Utahime rises behind you without a word, falling into step, close enough that you feel her presence like a guiding hand at your back.
βHe started getting upsetβ Ranta says, the soft sound of footsteps in the background. βKept asking where you were, why youβd gone. I tried to explain you were at work, but he got more agitated. Startedβ¦ smacking at his head, like it hurt or something. Then he ran upstairs and locked himself inside. Heβs not answering me anymore.β
You reach the break-room door, hand resting against the wood panel, forehead slumping forward until it touches the cool surface, soothing your raging thoughts for just a moment. The smell of old coffee and cleaning solution drifts out when you lean against it.
βOkay. Iβm coming home.β You glance back at Utahime, who mouths βIβll cover youβ with a gentle nod. You nod in return and step inside. βTry to tell him that. Hopefully itβll calm him down.β
βOkay, Mrs. Zenin.β The line goes dead.
The title hits you like a slap.Β
Mrs. Zenin.Β
You stand frozen for a second, staring at the blank screen, the name echoing in your head as though youβd forgotten it belonged to you at all. Four years of marriage and somehow the sound of it still startles you, like waking up inside someone elseβs life.
You change quickly, peeling off the dirt-streaked overalls and shoving them into your locker with more force than necessary. The metal door clangs shut. Your thoughts scatter.Β
What will you find when you get home? Has he remembered? Will he look the way he had once looked? Cold, robotic? As though your pain was the only thing that ever entertained him.
You sling your bag over your shoulder and step out into the late-afternoon light. The greenhouse glass catches the sun behind you, throwing long reflections across the gravel path. Utahime watches from the doorway, arms folded, expression unreadable.
You start walking toward the parking lot, phone still clutched in your hand.
β¦
You call his name the moment the lock whirs into place behind you, voice carrying through the foyer before youβve even kicked the door shut. βNaoya.βΒ
You toe off your shoes, letting them tumble haphazardly against the baseboard, something you would never have dared to do when he was the man who once expected every surface to gleam like a showroom floor, who would summon the maid to redo your work if a single speck of dust lingered or a cushion sat slightly askew.Β
The habit of perfection had been drilled into the house itself, but now, the scattered shoes feel like a small, reckless rebellion, and the sight of them there, crooked and ordinary, makes your stomach twist.
βNaoyaβ you call again, forcing your tone louder, brighter, careful not to let worry or irritation bleed through. You know how fragile he is now, how a single sharp note can send him spiralling, and the last thing you want is to make this worse.
Ranta appears at the top of the stairs, silhouette framed against the hallway light, hands loose at his sides. βHeβs still locked in your roomβ he says, voice low and even.
Your heart stumbles. βMy room?β
He nods once, stepping aside as you climb toward him. βHe wouldnβt go into his own. Kept saying he needed to wait where... youβd come back to?β
You reach the landing and turn toward your room without another word. Ranta falls in step behind you, footsteps soft on the runner, close enough that you feel his presence but not so close he crowds.
The hallway smells faintly of the cedar polish the maids still use, a scent that once meant inspection and judgment, now it only reminds you how little has truly changed in the house itself.
You knock gently at first, pressing your ear to the cool wood. Nothing. No rustle, no breathing, no sound at all. Your heart drops into your stomach.
For all you know heβs collapsed in there, the brain injury flaring again, leaving him limp on the carpet, incapacitated, the fragile new version of him slipping away as quickly as it arrived. You knock harder, knuckles stinging. βNaoya, please. Youβre really scaring me, please.β
Your voice trembles on the last word. Ranta watches from a step back, expression unreadable, like youβre some specimen under glass. βNaoyaβ¦ pleββ
The lock clicks.
The sound breaks through the quiet like a shot. The door doesnβt swing open, but the invitation is unmistakable. You glance at Ranta, he gives a single, cursory, nod, that same careful neutrality still in place. You push the door inward slowly, the hinges whispering.
He stands just inside the threshold, head lowered, shoulders curved inward until he looks smaller than youβve ever seen him. Not the broad, commanding frame that once filled doorways, but something diminished, almost fragile. When you step across the carpet and ease the door shut behind you, shutting Ranta out, his head finally lifts.
βIβm sorryβ he says. The words soft, barely above a whisper, trembling just so.
βNaoya.β You breathe his name, stepping closer. Tears streak his cheeks, fresh tracks over older ones, his eyes are red-rimmed, swollen, the pale brown irises glassy from hours of crying. βWhat happened?β
βI-I went to sleep for a minuteβ¦β He draws in a shaky breath that rattles in his chest. βWhen I woke up, I was confused. I didnβt remember where I was. The only person I could remember was you, and you werenβt here.β
His whole body shudders, knees buckling as he caves inward. You move without thinking, arms opening, catching him as he drops. He sinks against you, face pressing into your chest, tears soaking through the thin cotton of your t-shirt in warm, spreading patches.
His hands knot into the fabric at your back, fingers twisting hard enough to pull the material taut.
βIβm sorryβ you whisper, rocking him gently, one hand cradling the back of his head while the other strokes down his spine. Even though this is Naoya, the same man who turned four years of your life into a dance of misery and pain, you canβt stand to see him cry like this.Β
Because this isnβt him. This is not the man that was shaped by whatever brutal regime the Zenin family thought necessary to forge an heir. Not the one who fed on your fear, who thought nothing of your tears except how well they suited him.
This is someone else entirely, a confused, frightened stranger who has done nothing to you, whose pain matters more to you than youβd ever expect it to.
βIβm hereβ you murmur again, resting your cheek against the crown of his head. βIβm sorry. Iβm here.β
You card your fingers through his hair, slow and careful, trying anything to ease the tremors running through him. His arms never loosen. They tighten instead, pulling you closer until you feel the frantic thud of his heart against your ribs.
Sorry it's a little shorter that the previous chapters π¬.
DO NOT FEED INTO AI, OR REPOST WITHOUT CREDIT, OR ELSE I WILL CURSE YOU!
SYPNOSIS. you share your life with three magnetic men. what started as a convenient roommate setup spirals into a night of unbridled passion after a wild club outing, where boundaries dissolve and desires take over in a whirlwind of shared ecstasy.
PAIRING. ryomen sukuna x reader. gojo satoru x reader. toji fushiguro x reader.
WC. 4.1k
CONTENT. MDNI. foursome. rough and intense penetration. multiple partners. oral sex (giving and receiving). face-fucking and throat penetration. massive creampies and way too much cum everywhere. like seriously excessive amounts of cum. squirting. overstimulation. degradation mixed with heavy praise kink. spit play. cum play and cum-swapping. spanking. hair-pulling. light choking. clit slapping UGH. bruising and visible marking. PURE SEX MAN. aftercare and soft tender moments afterward. fully consensual in the story but extremely raw, boundary-pushing, and humanly overwhelming in how desperate and needy it gets.
A/N. flow state dude. toji and sukuna art by actually_valerie_art and gojo art by thatsallitchief on ig!
in the glittering chaos of tokyo's nightlife, your penthouse stood as a sanctuary for you and the three men who had woven themselves into your daily existence. you can't even recall how you got tangled with them.
gojo satoru, the white-haired tech genius. toji fushiguro, the scarred ex-mercenary turned personal bodyguard. and ryomen sukuna, the inked-up king of the underground scene.
it began innocently enoughβshared spaces, late-night conversations over drinks but the undercurrent of attraction had been building for months. tonight, after hours at sukuna's exclusive club, it finally erupted. back home, the air hummed with electric tension, thick with the promise of everything breaking open in the best way.
you didn't even close the door fully before toji had you backed against it, his large frame caging you in, breath ragged from watching you dance with the others all night.
"you've been drivin' me crazy," he muttered. his calloused hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him so you could feel how hard he was, pressing insistently against your thigh.
gojo lounged on the nearby couch, shedding his jacket with a lazy grin, blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "don't be greedy, toji. we all saw her grinding on sukuna earlier."
sukuna stripped off his shirt, revealing the black tattoos swirling over his toned body, and chuckled darkly. "jealous? good. makes it more fun."
toji didn't wait for permission. he crashed his lips onto yours in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue, devouring you like a man starved. his fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head back to deepen the angle, while his other hand slid under your dress, hiking it up to expose the lace of your panties. you gasped into his mouth, clutching his broad shoulders, nails digging in as heat pooled low in your belly.
"fuck, toji," you breathed when he pulled back slightly, only to trail biting kisses down your neck.
sukuna stepped up behind you, his hands joining toji's on your body. one slipped between your thighs. "already soaked? we've barely started, princess." his voice was a sinful purr as his fingers pressed against your clit in slow, teasing circles, making your hips buck involuntarily.
gojo rose then, sauntering over with that signature swagger. he unzipped your dress deftly, letting it pool at your feet in a silken puddle. "let's get you comfortable," he whispered, lips brushing your ear as he unclasped your bra. your breasts spilled free into the cool air; his hands covered them immediately, thumbs rolling over your hardened nipples, pinching just hard enough to pull a whimper from you.
the three of them surrounded you nowβa living cage of heat, muscle, and barely restrained hunger.
tojiβs mouth stayed latched to the side of your throat, sucking hard enough to bloom a fresh bruise. sukunaβs fingers never stopped their cruel torment between your legs. gojo pressed his chest to your back, letting you feel his hard length grinding lazily against the cleft of your ass while he toyed with your breasts like they were his personal playthings.
βlook at these,β gojo murmured against the shell of your ear, voice dripping with awe and mockery. he rolled both nipples between his fingers, tugging them outward until the sting made you arch and whine. βso pretty when theyβre all hard and begging. bet theyβd look even better with my teeth on them.β
before you could answer, sukuna hooked two fingers into the crotch of your panties and yanked them aside, exposing you completely. cool air hit your dripping core and you shiveredβonly for toji to drop to one knee in front of you. his big hands spread your thighs wider, holding you open. he buried his face between your legs and devoured.
βhaaahhβ¦ wβwait a minββ
his tongue dragged flat and broad up your entire slit in one long, filthy stroke, collecting every drop. then he focusedβsucking your clit between his lips with bruising suction, the tip of his tongue flicking side to side in rapid, merciless lashes. you cried out, hips jerking forward, only for sukuna to clamp an arm around your waist and pin you in place.
βstay still,β sukuna ordered. βlet him eat. you donβt get to run from it.β
gojo laughed softly against your neck. βsheβs shaking already. poor thingβs gonna come on his tongue in under a minute if we keep this up.β
he wasnβt wrong.
toji growled against your pussy when your walls fluttered, the vibration ripping another broken moan from your throat. gojoβs fingers never left your nipples, twisting and pulling in time with every hard suck until the dual sensation short-circuited your brain.
your first orgasm hit like a freight train. legs buckling, you would have collapsed if not for sukunaβs iron grip and tojiβs bruising hold on your thighs. the climax tore through you in violent, shuddering wavesβyour whole body locking up as you came against tojiβs unrelenting mouth. he drank every pulse, tongue flattening to lap up the flood like he refused to waste a drop, growling low the entire time.
only then did toji pull back. dark eyes locked on yours as he rose slowly. he wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm.
βfuckinβ delicious,β he rasped. βcould eat you all night.β
βfushiguro, donβt be greedy,β sukuna growled. he spun you roughly, slamming your front against the wall so hard the framed art rattled. his cock was already out, thick and veined. he lined up and rammed in without warning, bottoming out in one brutal stroke that knocked the air from your lungs.
βkuna! wβwarning please!β
the stretch burned. your walls clamped down hard around the sudden invasion. he didnβt let you adjustβpulled back almost to the tip and slammed home again, hips snapping with enough force your tits bounced against the cold wall. every thrust punched deep, the fat head bullying that spot inside until your knees shook and your nails scraped uselessly at the paint.
βwhat for?β he growled against your ear, one hand fisting your hair to yank your head back. βdonβt need it when yer cunt is this ready.β
wet slaps filled your entryway. his balls smacking your clit with every punishing drive, your own juices dripping down your thighs in messy strings. he fucked you like he hated you and needed you at the same time, ruthless, giving you no second to breathe.
toji stepped up on your left, thick fingers forcing your jaw open. βlook at me while he ruins you,β he rasped. he spat straight into your open mouth, watching it land on your tongue before shoving two fingers in deep, making you gag around them while sukuna kept pounding.
gojo was already on your right, pants shoved down, long cock in hand. he stroked himself slowly while he watched. sukunaβs rhythm turned erraticβshort, mean thrusts that ground his pelvis against your ass until you were whimpering around tojiβs fingers. sukunaβs hand left your hip to slap your clit once, sharp and stingingβthen again, and againβuntil the pain twisted into heat and you came hard, came so hard that sukuna cursed and buried himself even deeper, flooding you with hot, thick spurts that leaked out the second he started pulling back.
before you could whimper at the emptiness, gojo was there, spinning you around and shoving you to your knees so fast your palms slapped the floor.
βopen that mouth,β gojo said, voice tight with need. he fisted your hair, yanked your head back, and fed his cock past your lips in one smooth glide. he hit the back of your throat immediately, making your eyes water. he didnβt stopβrocked his hips forward until your nose pressed against his pelvis, his pubes tickling your face.
toji dropped to one knee behind you, spreading your ass cheeks wide. he spat on your already dripping hole, watching it mix with sukunaβs cum before shoving three thick fingers inside without warning.
your pussy was still fluttering from the last orgasm, now getting finger-fucked roughly while gojo used your throat like a toy.
βlook at this sloppy cunt,β toji muttered, curling his fingers hard against your g-spot until you choked out a muffled scream around gojoβs dick. βstill leakinβ sukunaβs load and begginβ for more.β
gojo groaned, hips snapping faster. βf-fuckβ¦ gonna paint her face. hold her steady.β
tojiβs free hand wrapped around your throat from behind, squeezing just enough to feel gojoβs cock bulging it every time he bottomed out. tears streamed down your cheeks, drool poured from the corners of your mouth.
sukuna stepped closer again, cock already hardening despite just coming. he fisted your hair next to gojoβs hand, forcing your head back further. βswallow around him,β he ordered. βmilk him dry.β
you did. your throat working convulsively enough to make gojo break quickly. he yanked out at the last second, hand flying over his shaft as he came in thick, messy ropes across your face.
first stripe on your cheek and lips, second on your closed eyelids, third dripping hot down your chin to splatter on your tits. he kept stroking, milking out every last drop until your face was a wrecked, glistening mess.
sukuna hauled you up by the hair before you could collapse, dragging you toward the couch. he threw you face-down over the armrest, ass up, legs kicked wide. toji was already behind you, thick cock in hand, rubbing the head through the mess of cum and slick before slamming in with one vicious thrust.
βwhaβ¦already?β
βyes my angel, need my turn,β he snarled, setting a pace that made the couch creak. he fucked you like he was trying to break youβballs slapping wetly against your clit.
you couldn't complain. not when you're body craves for this attention.
gojo knelt in front of your face, smearing the last of his cum across your swollen lips. βsweetie, before you forget to clean me up,β he muttered, pushing back into your mouth while toji railed you from behind.
you tried to focus, tried to swirl your tongue around gojoβs softening length the way he liked, but tojiβs brutal rhythm made it impossible to do anything but drool and moan around him. every punishing thrust shoved you forward, forcing more of gojoβs cock deeper until your lips were stretched wide and your throat kept fluttering uselessly.
tojiβs big hands gripped your hips so hard you knew youβd have perfect finger-shaped bruises tomorrow. he wasnβt just fucking youβhe was claiming you, marking every inch inside with the thick drag of his cock. the scarred mercenary didnβt talk much during sex, but the sounds he made were filthy enough.
βfuckinβ hell,β he grunted, one hand sliding up your spine to press between your shoulder blades, forcing your chest down harder against the armrest. the new angle let him hit even deeper, the fat head bullying that spot until your vision whited out. βthis greedy little pussy doesnβt know when to quit, does it? still flutterinβ after two loads.β
gojo pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop, strings of spit and cum connecting your swollen lips to his tip. he crouched down so his face was level with yours, gripping your jaw to make you look at him.
βyouβre so pretty when youβre getting ruined,β he murmured, thumb swiping through the drying mess on your cheek before pushing it between your lips. βyouβre the perfect girl.β
you obeyed automatically, tongue curling around his thumb while toji kept pounding into you from behind.
sukuna watched from the side, lazily stroking his cock back to full hardness, the dark ink on his chest and arms shifting with every slow pump. he was sure enjoying the showβbetter than any porn heβd ever jerked off to.
βgonna fill this cunt up,β toji rasped against your ear, voice wrecked. βgonna pump you so full youβll be leakinβ me for days. you want that?β
you could only whimper, nodding frantically around gojoβs thumb.
βsay it,β toji growled, slowing just enough to make you feel every thick inch sliding in and out. βtell me you want my cum.β
βpleaseββ your voice cracked, hoarse ββplease, toji, f-fill meβtoru, i want him to fill meββ
that was all he needed.
his hips stuttered, rhythm turning sloppy and desperate. one last brutal thrust buried him to the hilt, and then he was comingβso much it immediately started leaking out around his shaft despite how tightly your walls gripped him. he kept grinding through it, forcing every drop as deep as possible while you shook and sobbed beneath him.
when he finally pulled out, a stream of cum followed, dripping obscenely down your thighs to join sukunaβs and your own slick on the floor. you felt hollowed out, aching, and still somehow desperate for more.
toji stepped back, breathing hard, cock still glistening and heavy between his legs. he gave your ass a possessive smack that made you yelp.
gojo was already moving.
he hauled you up off the armrest like you weighed nothing, spinning you until your back hit the couch cushions. he climbed over you immediately, knees bracketing your hips, that long cock slapping wetly against your swollen folds.
βbeen waiting,β he said, voice deceptively light even as his eyes burned. he hooked your legs over his elbows, folding you in half until your knees nearly touched your shoulders. the position left you completely exposed, every messy inch of your used cunt on display.
he didnβt push in right awayβunlike the other two.
instead he dragged the head of his cock through the creamy mess toji and sukuna had left behind, coating himself, smearing it over your clit until you were twitching and whining.
βlook at this,β he murmured, almost to himself. βthree loads in you already and youβre still dripping for more. greedy fucking slut.β
then he sank inβslow at first, letting you feel every inch as he stretched you open again on top of everything else.
you keened at the pressure, walls fluttering around gojoβs length like they were trying to pull him even deeper. he stayed still for a long second, letting you feel the full, throbbing heat of him, the way your overworked pussy gripped him like it never wanted to let go.
after a minute he started moving. slow rolls at first, deep grinds that stirred everything inside you, dragging his cock against every sensitive ridge until your toes curled. his hands pinned your thighs wide, keeping you folded and helpless beneath him while he watched your face with that maddening half-smile.
βfeel that?β he whispered. βfeel how full you are? sukunaβs load, tojiβs load, and now me stretching you open again. youβre just a little cum-dump tonight, arenβt you?β
you couldnβt answerβcould only whimper and nod, nails digging into his forearms as he picked up speed.
"y-yesβ¦ want it allβ"
"hey." sukuna cuts you off as he climbed onto the couch beside you. he fisted his thick cock again, then slapped it heavily against your cheek, leaving a sticky smear.
βopen,β he ordered, voice low and dangerous. βdonβt make me wait. you havenβt paid attention to me.β
"oh." your lips parted on instinct. ββm sorry, ryo.β
he didnβt waitβpushed the fat head past them, resting on your tongue while gojo kept fucking you.
"show me yer sorry then." sukunaβs taste smeared across your tastebuds, salty and bitter, mixing with the remnants of gojoβs earlier release still drying on your skin.
toji knelt at the side of the couch, one big hand wrapping around your throat while the other slid down to where gojo was splitting you open. his rough fingers found your clit and started rubbing tight, mean circles that made your whole body jerk.
βgonna make her squirt this time,β toji rasped, eyes locked on where gojoβs cock disappeared inside you over and over. βwanna see this sloppy hole burst all over him. that'll be a sight man."
gojo laughed breathlessly, hips snapping harder. βdo it. ruin the couch. ruin her.β
the combined assault was too muchβgojoβs cock hammering that spot relentlessly, tojiβs fingers grinding your clit without mercy, sukuna lazily fucking shallow thrusts into your mouth while his free hand twisted one of your nipples hard enough to sting.
your body locked up.
too many mouths, too many hands, too much cock.
it built fast and brutal, a pressure so intense it almost hurt. you tried to warn them, tried to beg around sukunaβs cock, but all that came out was a garbled, desperate whine.
then it broke.
you came so hard your vision blacked out for a second. your walls clamped down on gojo like a fist, and then you were spillingβhot, clear fluid squirting out around his cock with every thrust, soaking his abs, his thighs, the cushions beneath you. the wet rush was loud, filthy, unstoppable. your whole body convulsed, thighs shaking violently in gojoβs grip as you sobbed around sukunaβs length.
βfuckβthere it is,β gojo groaned, pace turning erratic. βfuckinβ soak me.β
he didnβt last long after that. a few more brutal snaps and he buried himself deep, cock pulsing as he added another thick load to the mess inside you.
sukuna pulled out of your mouth right as gojo started to come down, stroking himself fast over your face. he came with a low curse, painting fresh stripes across your tongue and lips, some dripping down to join the drying mess already there.
when gojo finally eased out, thick, creamy rivulets of all of them leaked from your abused hole. you lay there panting, legs still trembling, body slick and marked everywhere.
toji leaned down, dragging two fingers through the mess between your thighs before bringing them to your lips.
βclean up,β he murmured, voice rough with satisfaction. βtaste what we did to you.β
you sucked weakly, tongue curling around his fingers as the taste of everything filled your mouth.
you finally calmed down, assuming it was over.
then sukuna shifted, sliding off the couch only to pull you down with him onto the thick rug in front of it. he sat with his back against the base of the couch and hauled you into his lap, facing away so your back pressed to his chest. his still-hard cock nudged at your entrance again, slick and insistent.
before you could catch your breath he sank inβ¦slow this time, inch by thick inchβuntil he was seated fully inside you once more.
your next orgasm didnβt build. it detonated.
you screamed loud. body convulsing so hard sukuna had to tighten his hold to keep you from bucking off him. he fucked you through it without mercy, chasing his own release until he buried himself deep and came with a low, animal snarl, adding another hot flood to the mess inside you.
when it was over you were limp, trembling, covered in sweat and cum and bruises that would bloom dark and beautiful by morning.
sukuna stayed seated inside you for long moments, arms locked around your waist, lips brushing your temple in something almost tender.
βbreathe,β he murmured.
gojo pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, then your tear-streaked cheek.
toji simply draped one massive hand over your thigh, thumb stroking idle circles against the sensitive skin.
βyou did so fucking good,β gojo whispered, voice wrecked with awe.
sukuna finally eased out of you with a slow, you whimper at the sudden emptiness. he shifted you gentlyβ¦surprisingly gentle for him. now you were cradled sideways in his lap on the rug, head tucked under his chin, one tattooed arm banded securely around your ribs like he still wasnβt ready to let go completely.
for a few long minutes no one spoke.
just the sound of four sets of lungs catching up, the faint city drone filtering through the glass, your own heartbeat thundering in your ears. your body felt liquid, heavy, deliciously used. every muscle ached in the best way.
your skin was painted with fingerprints, bite marks, streaks of drying cum. the slow drip between your legs only made you feel more claimed, more theirs.
gojo was the first to move.
he stretched languidly beside you, then leaned over to brush sweat-damp strands of hair from your face. his touch was feather-light now, reverent.
βhey,β he murmured, voice soft, βstill with us, baby?β
you managed a tiny nod, lashes fluttering. words felt too far away.
toji grunted, pushing to his feet with a wince. he looked down at the three of you.
sukuna still holding you, gojo stroking your cheek.
βgonna go shower,β he rasped. βyouβre a fuckinβ mess, doll. iβll bring a towel.β
he padded barefoot toward the master bathroom. the sound of the shower kicking on a minute later was distant white noise, steady and soothing.
sukunaβs chest rumbled against your back as he let out a low sigh. his fingers traced idle patterns along your hip.
βgot a fight in a couple hours,β he said quietly, almost reluctant. βbig match. canβt miss it.β
you felt a small pang. irrational after everythingβbut the thought of him leaving even for a few hours made your chest tighten. he must have felt the shift because he pressed his lips to your temple again.
βiβll be back before dawn,β he promised. βgonna win quick. then iβm coming straight here to collect my prize.β
he kissed the shell of your ear, then carefully transferred you into gojoβs waiting arms. sukuna stood, stretching so every inked muscle flexed under the low lights. he looked like sin personified.
βdonβt let satoru talk you into round four before i get back.β
"fuck you." gojo says flipping him off only for the older guy to laugh at him.
then he was goneβgrabbing his discarded shirt, tugging it on as he headed for the door. the soft click behind him felt strangely final, but you were too tired to worry.
gojo gathered you fully against his chest and stood with surprising ease, carrying you toward the bedroom like you were made of glass.
βcβmon, princess,β he murmured into your hair. βletβs get you cleaned up a little. youβve earned the soft treatment now.β
the bedroom was dim, lit only by city glow through half-closed blinds. gojo laid you in the center of the enormous bed and disappeared for a moment, returning with a warm, damp cloth and soothing lotion.
he knelt beside you. the cloth was heaven against your overheated skin. he wiped your face firstβchin, lips, cheeksβthen down your throat, between your breasts, careful around every bruise and bite mark. when he reached between your thighs he paused, eyes flicking to yours.
βtoo much?β he asked softly.
you shook your head, even though you were so sensitive it almost hurt.
he cleaned you with infinite patience, murmuring little praisesββso pretty even like this,β βtook us so well,β βmy brave girlββuntil you were mostly free of the sticky evidence. then he warmed the lotion between his palms and smoothed it over the worst of the marks.
his touch felt like he was worshipping you. well it's no surprise because satoru has always been the sweetest out of the three.
when he was done he crawled onto the bed, pulling the comforter over both of you and tugging you into the cradle of his body,
your back to his chest, his arm draped possessively over your waist, chin tucked over your shoulder. he was still half-dressed. his pants unbuttoned, shirt hanging open but the warmth of him was perfect.
βyou okay?β he asked for what felt like the sixth time tonight.
you nodded, reaching back to thread your fingers through his white hair.
βmore than okay, thank you toru.β
he smiled against your skin that you could feel the curve of it.
βgood. because iβm not letting you out of this bed until youβve slept at least eight hours. doctorβs orders.β
you huffed a tiny laugh, already feeling exhaustion drag at your limbs.
βyouβre not a doctor.β
βiβm your doctor tonight,β he countered, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. βand my prescription is cuddles, water, maybe some painkillers in the morning, and absolutely no more cock until you can walk without wobbling.β
another soft laugh bubbled out of you, sleepy and content.
the shower shut off down the hall. a minute later toji appeared in the doorwayβtowel slung low around his hips, hair dripping, looking unfairly good even bone-tired. he took one look at you curled in gojoβs arms and something soft flickered across his face.
βshe good?β he asked quietly.
gojo nodded. βfloating. probably gonna pass out in the next thirty seconds.β
toji grunted in approval, then crossed to the bed and dropped down on your other side, stretching out so you were sandwiched between them. his hand found yours under the covers, rough fingers lacing with yours in a grip that felt like an anchor.
βsleep, doll,β he muttered.
you did.
the last thing you registered before darkness claimed you was gojoβs lips brushing your shoulder in a feather-light kiss, tojiβs steady heartbeat against your palm, and the distant promise of sukuna coming home soon.
I haven't even read this yet... but after reading that description, I needed to repost because I didn't want it lost anywhere else but in my feed to find later... π damn...
ππ AgedUp!Megumi ties you up with his shadows for Valentineβs Day
β‘short story from my Valentines post
masterlist
Megumi has always been gentle with you when it came to sex. He doesnβt really see any joy in hurting you, even if you already told him about a hundred times you would be okay with it. But today is Valentineβs Day, and for once Megumi is actually nervous. Heβs never had a girlfriend beforeβ¦ so he isnβt quite sure if he should take you out, watch a movie with you, or just hang together. He even asked Yuji and Nobara for some advice, but their answers made it clear that they donβt know you as well as he does. So when he finally asked you what you wanted to do on this special day, all you said was, ββ¦hmm, how about you finally fuck me like you mean it?β
He was stunned, had to process this information for quite a while. His fantasies about you are quite basic, but he still hasnβt taken you like he actually wants to yet. He just doesnβt want to hurt you.
Youβre breathing heavily under Megumi on his bed. Both of your clothes already stripped away and foreplay already done. βI have thought about what you said. Uhmm letβs do itβ he whispers into your ear while his hand trails up your thigh. You kiss him softly and nod happily. He sits on his heels between your legs and looks down at you.
βSo, ummβ¦ I have thought about it. I think about tying you up in my fantasies. Withβ¦ my shadows.β That was really hard to say out loud. You stare at him with wide eyes. Tied up? By his shadows? While he fucks you however he wants to? βFuck Megumi I want itβ you breathe out with excitement.
He gives you a soft smile before you can feel a weight slithering around your inner knees, your feet, shoulders, and wrists. Thin, dark-looking shadows ropes pinning you down in mating press in front of him. He strokes his cock a few times, looking down and burning the image into his mind. Fuck, maybe he shouldβve done this earlier. You look so vulnerable like this, completely trusting him at this moment, and that turns Megumi on so much.
He lines up his cock at your entrance and slowly pushes inside. You let out a soft whimper at his thick cock stretching you out. Heβs breathing shakily, still canβt get over the feeling of a pussy around him. Pink tip hitting your cervix, he looks down at you for a sign that he can start. A soft smile forms on your plump lips, and he starts to move. Slow at first, but then getting faster and harder. You try your best to suppress the noises that you make, still a little shy. But your boyfriend is so far gone into fucking that he whispers, βYou donβt- hah-need to hide your beautiful noises love.β You can feel your walls pulsating at him being so into it.
You donβt hide your desperate and filthy moans anymore. The room fills with sounds of whimpers and skin slapping against skin. His tip nudging your velvety walls at an animalistic pace while you are still pinned down and unable to even move an inch. You feel so exposed in this position, which makes you even more excited. You can feel Megumiβs thrusts faltering, which means heβs close. And you are too. He cups your face and places kisses onto your chin and the corner of your mouth instead of actually kissing the spot he wanted to. βHah-hah fuck,fuck, Iβmβ¦ nghβ¦yes Iβm comββ and he groans. Heβs hitting your cervix with every rope of cum shooting out of his sensitive tip, which makes you come as well. Maybe itβs not at the same time, but sex is rarely perfect like that.
He lets his body crash on top of yours, and you can feel the grip of his shadows disappearing. You stretch your legs and hug him tightly. He showers you with kisses before admitting that he thinks you guys should do this more often.
summary β for 713 days, you've been sketching strangers on your morning commute, giving away portraits to brighten their day. when a missed train puts you on an unfamiliar route, you draw a white-haired man who's impossible to ignore. you think you'll never see him againβuntil he plasters half of tokyo with posters trying to find you.
word count β 16.4 k
genre/tags β modern AU, ceo x artist, strangers to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn, soft romance, fluff, so much fluff, banter, provider!satoru gojo bc goddamn yes & him being a very dramatic puppy in love, misunderstandings
warnings β 16+ ONLY. contains suggestive sexual content, brief mention of financial stress and reference to past cheating experience.
author's note β put on your favorite taylor swift playlist and get cozy for the fluff. i squeeeezed every tiny bit of fluff that i have out of my heart into this. side note, the idea came to me after seeing a tiktok of someone handing out sketches on a train hehe. hope it makes you smile <3
masterlist + support my writing + artwork by @3-aem
Your alarm goes off at exactly 5:45 AM, the same time it has for the past three years. You silence it with a tap (or try, anyway) and slip out from under your warm blankets before the urge to just stay there and call in sick becomes too stong to withstand it.
Your small one-bedroom apartment is quiet, save for the distant early morning traffic of the city outside your window and your groaning as you make your way to the bathroom.
Your morning routine was more muscle memory than anything other at this hour. Shower (seven minutes), hair (five minutes, more or less), makeup (eight minutes), and outfitβalready sorted from last night (smart you)βcoffee and an avocado toast.Β
By 6:30, youβre checking your bag if youβve got everything: laptop, planner, phone charger, and most importantly, your sketchbookβa simple Moleskine with cream-colored pages that are perfect for graphiteβand a few spare pencils.
You flipped open to a new page in your sketchbook and wrote βDay 713.β Tomorrowβs entry would be 714.Β
Youβd been counting since the first time you gave a drawing to a stranger, an elderly street musician whose weathered hands moved across his guitar strings so smoothly, you couldnβt help but try to capture his ease. When youβd shyly offered him the sketch afterwards, the tiredness in his face gave way to something softer.Β
Surprised. Delighted.
βIs this me?β he asked, his voice carrying that gentle kind of warmth older people always seem to have.
You had simply nodded.
The musician smiled, thanked you, and carefully tucked the drawing into the front pocket of his jacket, and that small moment sparked something in youβa sense of purpose, you could say, that had been missing from your otherwise structured life as a graphic designer. Since then, every morning without fail, you picked a fellow passenger on your train commute, capturing them in a quick sketch, and offering it to them before your stop arrived.
Maybe it was cheesy, but you didnβt care. It was the smile that made it worth itβthe way a simple gesture could light up someoneβs face at such early hoursβthatβs what kept you going, for exactly 713 days and counting.
As you locked your apartment door this morningβTuesday, 6:32 AMβyou had no idea that your simple, stupid little cheesy routine was about to change.
Your phone vibrated as you reached the station entrance. A notification from the transit app lit up your screen:
Line 6 service temporarily suspended due to overnight maintenance issues. Please seek alternative routes.
Great. Just what you needed.
Line 6 was your direct route to the office, the one that got you there at precisely 8:00 AM every morning. And youβd never been late. Not once in three years at Takahashi Media Group. And today of all days? Really? The Yamada account presentation was at 9:30, and as lead designer, you needed time to prep.Β
Panic started to bubble.
βExcuse me,β you said to the nearest station attendant, trying to keep your voice steady while a tiny voice inside your head was screaming. βWhatβs the fastest way to Central District Station?β
Clipboard guy barely looked up. βTake Line 4, transfer at Miyashita to Line 9. Adds about twenty minutes.β
Twenty minutes?
Now panic was definitely starting to bubble up.Β
Okay, think. If you skipped your usual coffee stop and went straight to the office, you could still make it with just enough time to run through your slides once. Not ideal, but doable.
Line 4 was unfamiliar territory. Unlike Line 6, which you always caught early enough to get a seat, this one was already full. Businessmen in dark suits, students in uniform, and way too many elbows. And the smellβless lemony and clean, more like... cologne and sweat. You squeezed in and clutched your sketchbook to your chest as the doors closed behind you.
Usually, you picked your sketch subject within the first minute. It was like on autopilot by now. Your eyes would just land on someone, and youβd know. But in this crowded, unfamiliar car full of strangers, you felt a little bit lost. These werenβt your usual commuters, the ones youβve come to recognize over hundreds of mornings, even if youβve never spoken to them.Β
But then you saw him.
He was standing near the doors at the far end of the car, one hand gripping the overhead rail, the other tucked casually into the pocket of his pants. He looked completely out of place, so unlike the others around him.
He was tall. Like, really tall. And his hair was white. It caught the overhead lights in a way that made it shimmer, like fresh snow under a winter sun. He looked young, though. Early thirties, maybe? The white hair didnβt read as old, more like a choice. Or maybe it was natural. Hard to tell.
His suit was navy, perfectly tailored, but somehow different from all the other navy suits in the car. Maybe it was the cut, or maybe it was just him. He wore it likeβwell, like he wasnβt trying. Top button undone, no tie. A pair of green-tinted glasses perched on his nose, partly hiding his eyes, but not quite.
Everyone else around him was either half asleep or nervously checking their watches, the usual morning commute zombie routine. But not him. He looked completely at ease and almost... amused. Like the full train and countless elbows between oneβs ribs didnβt bother him.
You flipped to a blank page in your sketchbook, adjusting your stance as the train swayed. Your pencil hovered, studying him for a moment. Then, like always, the world blurred at the edges as your pencil touched paper, almost making you forget about the schoolboy who stepped on your foot every few seconds, squeezed between other schoolchildren on their way to class.Β
After a while, the train announcement: Next stop, Miyashita Station. Transfer for Lines 2, 9, and 11.
You signed the corner, tore out the page, and held it for a second. This part was usually easyβwalk over, smile, offer the sketch, say something nice, move on. But something about him made you hesitate.
What if he thought it was weird? What if he assumed you were flirting? What if he had a wife and three kids and a very awkward story to tell over dinner tonight? What ifβ
The train began to slow. Now or never.
You stood and started weaving through the packed car towards the stranger. He hadnβt moved, still holding the rail with that same relaxed grip, still wearing that faint smile.
βExcuse me,β you said.
He turned, and for the first time, you got a clear look at his eyes through those green-tinted glasses. Startlingly blue. Vivid and almost unnatural. Somewhere between forget-me-nots and ripe blueberries. When they locked onto yours, warmth spread through your chest like youβd just stepped into sunlight.
βThis is for you,β you said and offered him the drawing.
For a second, he didnβt react, and panic started to flare. Oh no. He hated it. He definitely hated it. But it was good, or not? Not Picasso, but decent. Solid. Right? Oh god, if he doesnβt say something, literally anything in the next second, youβre going to spontaneously die.
Then, finally, his lips curled into a slow, handsome smile.Β
βA drawing? Of me?β
His voice surprised you. Deep and smooth, with a certain richness to it, like dark chocolate. And... was that a Kyoto accent? Subtle, but there. He reached for the sketch, his fingers brushing yours as he took it.
You watched, breath caught in your throat, as his eyes moved over the page. It felt like your entire morningβno, your entire existenceβwas waiting on his next words.
βYouβre very talented.β
...Huh?
You didnβt know what you expected, but it wasnβt that. Or rather, it was how he said it. Usually, people said βthank you,β or βoh, that's so sweet,β something polite and brief before they got off at their stop. But he said it like he meant every syllable. Like youβd just unveiled the Mona Lisa to him.
You. Are. Very. Talented.
The sincerity in his voice hit you oddly sideways.
Then the train doors hissed open and commuters surged forward, dragging you back to reality. Oh godβthe presentation.
βThis is my stop,β you said hastly, suddenly remembering everything else happening in your life. βI need to go.β
βWait.β He took a small step forward, but you were already being swept along with the crowd.
βI hope you like it!β you called over your shoulder, catching one last glimpse of him, but then his white hair vanished among the sea of dark suits, and the doors slid shut behind you.
It wasnβt until you were halfway up the escalator to your connecting train that you realized something. Your signatureβthe tiny heart you always draw into the corner of your sketches. Gone. Missing. For the first time in 713 days.
It strangely bothered you. By the time you reached your office (7:58 AMβstill on time, miraculously), youβd almost convinced yourself it was just the chaos of the morning and had nothing to do with the handsome stranger who made your heart beat just a little faster when your fingers touched. Absolutely nothing.
You shove the thought aside and focus on your presentation. Line 6 would be back tomorrow. Back to your normal route, your normal routine, your normal life. Youβd never see that man again.Β
Or so you think.
Your presentation went flawless. The Yamada executives nodded along to your designs, and your boss even cracked a rare smile by the time you wrapped up. It was almost unsettling.
And by the time you packed up to leave, the handsome stranger had faded into the backgroundβa fleeting moment in a city full of them.
Line 6 was back on schedule that evening. You found your usual seat. Everything was exactly the way it had always been. Just how you liked it.
ββ β’ γ»βΈβΈ
The next morning, you slipped back into your routine without thinking. Alarm. Shower. Tea and toast. Line 6 at 6:52 AM. Your favorite seat at the end of the car.
Your subject today was a young woman with brightly colored headphones, who seemed lost in her music. When you handed her the sketch (this time with your trademark tiny heart in the corner) she beamed. Youβd made her day, she said.Β
Life continued exactly as it should. Drawing number 714, 715, 716... each one gifted, each one with a tiny heart in the corner. Your little bit of everyday cheesy rom-com magic thingy carried on, uninterrupted.
A week passed. You were on your usual train, putting the final touches on that morningβs sketchβan older man engrossed in a paperback novel. When you handed it to him, his face lit up. But then it changed. Surprise gave way to something elseβ¦ something like recognition.
βWait,β he said, adjusting his glasses to look between you and the drawing. βAre you the subway artist everyoneβs been talking about?β
βIβm sorry?β
βThe subway artist,β he repeated, like that explained everything. βThereβve been posters up on Line 4 all week. Someoneβs trying to find the person who draws portraits on the train.β He smiled, gesturing to the sketch. βItβs you, isnβt it?β
βLine 4? I... I donβt usually take that line.β
But then it hit you.Β
You thanked the man and stepped off the train feeling slightly dazed. All day at work, your mind kept drifting back to this strange turn of events. Someone was looking for you? Putting up posters?
There was only one person it could be.
The stranger from Line 4.Β
After work, instead of taking your usual Line 6 home, you found yourself heading towards Line 4. Your heart beat a little faster.
The train was full with evening commuters, but you barely noticed them. Your eyes scanned the station walls as the train pulled into each stop. Nothing at the first station. Or the second. Then, as the train slowed for the third stop, you saw it.
There, on a pillar near the platformβs edge, was a poster. Even from inside the train, you recognized your own work. It was the sketch you had given the handsome strangerβor rather, a scan of it. Below, printed in bold, clear type:
LOOKING FOR THE ARTIST
Did you draw this portrait on Tuesday morning, Line 4? Iβd like to thank you properly.
Please call: XXX-XXX-XXXX
The train doors opened, and without thinking, you stepped out, weaving through the tide of boarding passengers. You pushed your way toward the poster, staring at it in disbelief. It was definitely your drawing. No question. But why was he looking for you?
You pulled out your phone and took a quick photo of the poster, and then you just stood there, frozen. What now? Should you call? Would that be weird? What did βthank you properlyβ even mean?
You glanced around the platform, almost expecting to spot him nearby. But there was no sign of him. Only a sea of strangers, none of them with hair the color of snow.Β
On impulse, you peeled the poster off the pillar and tucked it into your bag. Back at your apartment, you unfolded it on the kitchen table. The drawing looked back at you, familiar and strange all at once. You traced a finger over the phone number, wondering about the man who had gone to such lengths to find you.Β
What kind of person did that? Was he just being kind? Did he want to pay you? Commission another drawing? Something about it was flattering⦠and also a little unsettling.
You took out your phone, entered the number into your contacts, and hovered your thumb over the call button.
This was ridiculous. You didnβt know anything about himβother than the fact that he had white hair and apparently enough time and money to put up posters in subway stations. What if he was a stalker? Or some kind of... weirdo?
You folded the poster again and tucked it into a drawer. Maybe in a few days youβd feel differently. Or maybe it was best to forget the whole strange thing altogether.
ββ β’ γ»βΈβΈ
Next day, you were back on Line 6, back to your routine. You chose your subjectβa woman with a long braidsβand focused on capturing the way the morning light played in her woven hair. By the time you handed her the sketch, all thoughts of the poster and the maybe stalker had faded.
Two weeks later, you were running a little late for work. As you rushed onto your usual Line 6 train, something familiar caught your eye on the station wall. The doors closed before you could really process it, and the train pulled away. You spent the rest of the ride wondering if youβd imagined it.
The next morning, you arrived at the station a few minutes early to investigate and what you found made your breath catch. There on the wall of your station, wasnβt just one poster, but several. Each one with your sketch. And this time, beneath the drawing, a new message:
TO THE ARTIST
Dinner? This Friday, 8 PM.
Hanami Restaurant, Central District
You stared. Eyes wide. A dinner invitation? Posted publicly in the subway? Who even does that? Oh god.Β
He was a stalker.Β
Orβ¦ maybe it was romantic? No. Definitely creepy. Right? Who publicly invites a stranger to dinner using posters? A total stranger he didnβt even know?Β
But... Hanami Restaurant? That was a nice place. Fancy. Not cheap. Youβd seen it once on your birthday when your coworkers took you somewhere nearby. This wasnβt just casual ramen and a maybeβthis wasβ¦ effort.
βOh, youβve seen them too?β
You turned to see an older woman standing beside you, also gazing at the posters.
βIsnβt it the most charming thing?β she said. βTheyβve been popping up all over Line 6 for the past few days. My daughter thinks itβs a movie promotion, but I think itβs a real love story in the making.β She gave a wistful sigh. βI hope the artist shows up.β
You muttered something polite and hurried onto your train, heart thudding in your chest.Β
This had gone from odd to completely, absolutely weird. Not only had he expanded his poster campaign to your line, but now he was publicly inviting you to dinner? How did he even know which train you usually took? Or worse, were these posters up on every line in Tokyo? No. That couldnβt be possible.
You sank into your seat, sketchbook clutched tightly against your chest, your thoughts spiraling. Was this romantic dedication? Or borderline stalking?Β
The invitation was for tomorrow night. You didnβt have to go. Itβs not like he knew who you were or where you livedβtechnically, you could ignore it and carry on like none of this ever happened.Β
Butβ¦ what would happen if you did go? What if he was charming and witty and everything youβd secretly ever dreamed about on sleepy train rides? What if he was a total creep?
You looked down at your sketchbook, heart still racing.
My God.
What had you started?
ββ β’ γ»βΈβΈ
Friday evening arrived, and you found yourself standing in front of your closet, absently fingering the hem of a dress you hadnβt worn in months. For a dinner you werenβt going to attend. With a man youβd barely met.
βThis is ridiculous,β you muttered, shutting the closet door with finality.
Youβd already made your decision. Absolutely not going. This whole thing had gone from charming toβ¦well, kind of creepy. Who put up posters across the subway just to find someone they spoke to for like two seconds? It was excessive. Borderline obsessive.
You ordered takeout from your favorite place down the street and spent the evening sketching while a movie played in the background. Every so often, your eyes drifted to the clock.Β
7:30.
7:45.
8:00.
He was probably at the restaurant by now. Maybe checking his watch.
8:15.Β
8:30.
Maybe heβd ordered a drink to pass the time.
9:00.Β
Surely, by now, he knew you werenβt coming.
You told yourself it was for the best. This way, heβd get the message. No need for awkward conversations or outright rejection. Just silence. Clear. Polite, in a distant kind of way.
Life could go back to normal. Back to routine. Back to sketching strangers who didnβt plaster the city with posters looking for you.Β
And still, somewhere underneath all that logic, a quiet little voice whispered: What if heβs just sitting there, alone, sad, and feeling as unsure as you do right now?
ββ β’ γ»βΈβΈ
The weekend passed uneventfully. By Monday morning, youβd nearly convinced yourself youβd done the right thing. Youβd protected your peace. Maintained your boundaries. All good decisions.
Your alarm rang at 5:45 AM. Shower. Hair. Makeup. Outfit. Green tea and avocado toast. Sketchbook and pencils in your bag. Everything back to normal.
On your usual train, your eyes landed on a high school girl seated near the doors. She looked tired, but focused. A textbook rested in her lap, worn at the corners and stuffed with colorful Post-it notes poking out from all sides. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and leaned in to read.
By the time the train neared your stop, the sketch was finished, your signature heart placed neatly in the corner. You stood and made your way over to her, when a flash of colour outside the train window caught your eye.
Another poster. But this one looked different.
As the train slowed, you could make out your sketchβthe one of the white-haired strangerβbut now surrounded by a border ofβ¦were those flowers?Β
You squinted, leaning closer as the train rolled to a stop. Then the doors opened, but instead of handing the student the sketch you had made of her, you stepped out onto the platform without thinking.
You moved toward the poster. It was definitely your drawing in the center, but someoneβhim, obviouslyβhad added to it. Were those real flowers? Pinned around the edges? You leaned in. Yes. Small blossoms. Some still fresh, others beginning to wilt.
And below, a new message:
TO THE ARTIST WHO DIDNβT COME TO DINNER
I understand. Perhaps too forward. My apologies. But Iβd still like to meet you.
Coffee instead? Your choice of time and place.
Same number below. No more posters after this, I promise.
Call: XXX-XXX-XXXX
You stared at the poster, not sure what to think of it. It was still... a lot. But the tone had changed. It didnβt feel like pressure anymore. It felt like a peace offering.
βIs that about you?β
You jumped slightly and turned to find the schoolgirl from the train standing behind you. She was looking between you and the poster, eyebrows raised. You hadnβt even noticed her step off.
βWhat? No, Iββ
βIt is, isnβt it?β she said, pointing to the edge of her portrait still peeking from your sketchbook. βYouβre the subway artist! Iβve seen these posters for weeks. Everyone at schoolβs been talking about them.β Her eyes lit up. βBut itβs real! Itβs actually you!β
Your face went hot. βI justβ¦ draw people on my commute. Itβs not a big deal.β
βNot a big deal?β She looked at you like youβd just told her the earth was flat. βSomeone literally covered half the subway trying to find you. Thatβs so romantic.β She paused, glancing back at the poster. βThough I guess... it might feel a little intense if you donβt know him.β
βExactly,β you said, a little too quickly, but relieved that someone finally understood. Not that you told anyone, anyway.
βBut now heβs apologizing and backing off. Thatβs actually kind of sweet, donβt you think? Like he realized he overdid it.β Before you could respond, she suddenly gasped. βOh! Were you going to give me something?β She pointed to your sketchbook.
βIβyes, actually.β Youβd almost forgotten. You tore out the page with her portrait and handed it over. βI hope you donβt mind.β
She took the drawing, her face bright. βThis is amazing! You made me look so... I donβt know, determined? Like I actually understand what Iβm reading about.β She laughed. βThank you so much!β
A chime echoed through the stationβthe warning for the next train.
βThatβs my transfer,β she said and glanced at the poster one more time. βYou know, if I were you, Iβd call him. Not everyone gets a second chance at something interesting.β And with that, she turned and vanished into the crowd of boarding passengers.
You stood there for a moment longer, staring at the poster. At the flowers heβd carefully pinned around your sketch. It must have taken hours.Β
Your phone buzzed with a calendar reminder. Morning meeting in fifteen minutes. With one last glance at the poster, you turned and headed for the station exit.
Maybe the girl was right. Maybe there was something here worth exploring. Or maybe this was exactly how people ended up in true crime documentaries.Β
Either way, you had a decision to make.
ββ β’ γ»βΈβΈ
For the next three days, the poster haunted you. Not in a scary way, but enough to slip under your skin and stay there.Β
You caught yourself absentmindedly sketching floral patterns during meetings, doodling petals in the margins of your planner, even on the back of your grocery list. His phone number was still saved in your contacts. You hadnβt called it. Yet.
By Thursday afternoon, in the middle of yet another agonisingly boring meeting, you finally made your decision.Β
The moment your boss wrapped up, you grabbed your phone and slipped into the empty break room. Your heart thudded so hard it felt like it might knock your ribs loose. Before you could overthink it, you dialed the number.
It rang once. Thenβ
βHello?β
That voice. Deep. Warm. Curious. Instantly familiar.
βUm. Hi,β you said, suddenly questioning every life desicion that had led you to this moment. βThis isβ¦ well, I donβt know if youβll remember, but I drew your portrait on the train a few weeks ago, andββ
βYou called.β He sounded genuinely relieved. βI was starting to think you werenβt ever going to.β
βYeah, wellβ¦β You took a breath. βYou do realize those posters were kind of creepy, right?β
βI thought they were romantic?β
βFor someone I donβt know, itβs more creepy than romantic. And also, what if I was already taken?β
βAre you?β
You went silent. Right. You probably shouldβve seen that one coming.
βIβm Satoru, by the way.β You could practically hear the smirk in his voice.
You gave him your name in return, nervously clicking your pen against the break room table.
He repeated it slowly, like he was trying how it sounded on his tongue, and that somehow sent a strange flutter through your stomach. Why did hearing him say your name suddenly make you so nervous? It was just a name. Your name. Youβd heard it a million times before.
But from him, it felt different. More intimate somehow. Ridiculous, you told yourself. You were overthinking it. Probably. Still... the little flutter lingered.
βListen,β you said, clearing your throat, trying to sound casual. βIβve got my lunch break in about an hour. If youβre free, maybe we could meet. Nothing fancyβjust coffee or something.β
βAn hour? Yes. Absolutely.β A pause. βWhere do you work? I can come to you.β
You hesitated, then figured it was harmless. It was a large and well known office building downtown, after all. Not exactly revealing your home address. βTakahashi Media Group. Midtown Tower, fourteenth floor.β
βPerfect. Iβll see you in an hour.β
The call ended, and you stared at your phone for a beat before heading back to your desk. You tried to focus on your emails, your task list, anythingβbut your eyes kept drifting to the clock.
It was just coffee, you reminded yourself. Just a casual meeting with the stranger from the train whoβd launched a city-wide poster campaign to find you.
Β Totally normal.
Fifty-five minutes later, you were gathering your bag when a commotion near the reception area caught your attention. Moments later, your coworker Aki appeared beside your desk.
βHey, thereβs someone asking for you at the reception. And heβs... well, you should just come see.β
βSomeoneβs here for me?β you asked, frowning. βBut I was supposed to meetββ You stopped. βOh no.β
You hurried toward the reception area, Aki trailing close behind. As you rounded the corner, you saw a group of coworkers gathered near the glass doors, all pretending very badly not to be gawking at somethingβor better said, someone.
And there, standing right in the center of the chaos, was the handsome stranger form Line 4.
He was even more handsome than you remembered. Tall, effortlessly confident, and dressed in a perfectly tailored dark suit, with a blue tie that was the exact same shade as his eyes.
When he spotted you, his entire face lit up with a smile so dazzling it looked like it belonged in a toothpaste commercial. You saw your coworker Mei place a hand over her heart, and you couldβve sworn someone behind her whispered, βOh my god.β
βArtist!β he called, completely unaware of (or more likely, entirely unbothered by) the scene he was causing. βWow, youβre even prettier when youβre mortified.β
And then you saw the flowers.Β
Correction: you saw the flowers.
He was holding the most ridiculous bouquet youβd ever laid eyes on. A vibrant, overflowing explosion of violet, pink, and red, easily three dozen stems if not more. It was a lot. Even for him.
Every head in the lobby turned toward you.
Great. Just fucking great.
You walked over, ignoring the heat rising in your face and the whispers following behind you, wanting nothing more than to quickly escape the awkward scene. Reaching him, you grabbed his elbow and leaned in, voice low.
βYou really donβt know how to be subtle, do you?β
People glanced at him as you walked, some doing double takes. He seemed completely unbothered by it. Perhaps heβs used to it. Being pretty comes with stares naturally, you assumed.
Maybe he was a model. Or a singer. Or both. And you were the only person in Tokyo who didnβt recognize him and later it will be so awkward when paparazzi take photos of you holding hands on your way out and splash them across trashy magazines with some ridiculous headline andβ
Wait.
Holding hands?
Why were you even thinking about holding hands?
He could still be a stalker. A total weirdo. Aβ
You nearly tripped over someone weaving through the crowd, lost in your thoughts. Before you could catch yourself, Satoruβs hand landed gently on your elbow, steadying you as he pulled you closer to his side. Your arm brushed against his, and that brief contact sent a shiver down your spine.
You could feel it. His gaze. Not bashful. Not subtle. Not even blinking, apparently.Β
Finally, you set the menu down. βYouβre staring.β
βI am,β he said, without a hint of shame. βItβs not every day I get to meet the artist whoβs been haunting my dreams for weeks.β
βHaunting your dreams, huh?β You glanced up and met those absurdly blue eyes. βYou know, you do sound very creepy sometimes.β
βDo I?β He tilted his head slightly. βIβll admit, I donβt do this often.β
βWhat, stalk people? Or launch city-wide poster campaigns?β
He laughed. βBoth, I guess. That mightβve been a bit much. My colleagues say I have a tendency to go overboard once Iβve set my mind to something.β
βOh really?β
His smile widened. βOkay, fair. I deserved that. But in my defenseβit worked. Youβre here.β
βOut of curiosity more than anything,β you said, though you werenβt entirely sure that was true. βSo now that youβve found me, what exactly was the plan? Beyond coffee, I mean?β
He paused, considering. βI must admit, I didnβt think that far ahead. I just wanted to meet you. To thank you for seeing something in me worth capturing.β There was an unexpected softness to his voice. βAnd maybe to find out if the person behind the pencil is as interesting as her art suggests.β
βAnd? Verdict so far?β
βEven more interesting,β he said without hesitation. βBut I still have questions.β
βSuch as?β
βSuch as how long youβve been sketching strangers on trains. Why you give the drawings away instead of keeping them. Whether you draw for a living.β He leaned in slightly. βAnd if youβd ever let me see your sketchbook.β
Before you could answer, the barista approached with a tray.
βHereβs your cappuccino, miss. And Mr. Gojo, your usual.β She set down a borderline theatrical coffee drink in front of him, along with a small plate of pastries you definitely hadnβt heard him order.
βChef sent these over for you both,β she added with a smile. βItβs that new recipe you suggested last week.β
βThank him for me, Hana,β Satoru said, offering her a warm smile that made her visibly melt. βThey look perfect.β
βOf course, Mr. Gojo. Anything else you need, just let me know.β She gave a polite bow before heading back.
You watched the entire exchange with growing suspicion. As soon as she was out of earshot, you leaned in.
βOkay. What was that about?β
βWhat do you mean?β
βThe chef takes your suggestions for pastries? And the barista knows your βusualβ, which looksβby the wayβlike something from the kidβs menu.β
Satoru looked mildly amused as he slid the plate towards you. βTry one. Theyβre amazing.β
You took one, but fixed him with a pointed look still. βStill not answering my question.β
βI come here a lot.β
βIβve been going to the same coffee shop near my apartment for three years,β you said, βand they still spell my name wrong on the cup.β
He laughedβa real one. It drew a few subtle glances from nearby tables.
βFair point.β
The pastry was every bit as good as he promisedβlight, buttery, with just the right amount of sweetness. But you werenβt letting him off the hook.
βSo?β you asked, licking a crumb off your thumb. βWhy does everyone here treat you like youβre... I donβt know. Someone important?β
βI suppose because I am someone importantβ
βWhat does that mean?β
βI figured Iβd bring this up eventually.β Satoru took a sip of his kidβs menu drink, then set the cup down. βI own Gojo Holdings.β
You stared at him. Blankly.
βOur headquarters occupies the top ten floors of this building,β he added, casually gesturing upward.
Suddenly, the name clicked into place. Gojo Holdingsβa name youβd seen before. On office towers, in business headlines, maybe even on the news channel. One of those massive investment and trading firms. It was the kind of company that quietly owned half the city without anyone really noticing.
βYouβre joking.β
βIβm not.β His tone was surprisingly straightforward. βIβm the CEO. Have been for about five years, since my father stepped down.β
He gave a small shrug. βPerks of a eating here often.β
βSo when you were on that trainβ¦β
βI was just commuting. Like anyone else.β He sipped his coffee, completely at ease. βTraffic sucks. Trains are faster.β
βA practical billionaire. How novel.β
βCEO. Not a billionare,β he corrected. βWellβtechnicallyββ
βNot helping your case,β you cut in, and to his credit, he actually looked sheepish.
βSo thatβs how you managed to plaster half the city with posters.β You leaned back, studying him again. βMost people wouldβve just... posted something online.β
βI donβt do things halfway,β he said, not even pretending to apologize. βBesides, I donβt have social media. Too messy in my position.β
You took a long sip of your cappuccino, buying yourself a moment. Then you asked the question that had been quietly building in the back of your mind.
βSo what exactly does the CEO of a major trading company want with a graphic designer who sketches strangers on the subway?β
βThe same thing I wanted before you knew any of this. Get to know you.β
You tilted your head, unsure whether to believe him. He mustβve sensed your hesitation.Β
βOkay, listen,β he said, leaning forward. βIβve been renovating the executive floor of our headquarters and thereβs this white wall in my office. Itβs been empty for months because nothing felt right for itββ
βYou want to commission me?β You blinked, more confused than ever. βFor your office?β
βYeah. Actually, for the whole floor. A series of pieces,β he said. βNot landmarks or cityscapesβeveryone does that. I want your version. The people. The soul of each place. Like the sketch you gave me.β
βSo all thisβthe posters, the dinner invitation, the whole subway artist manhuntβwas for a commission?β
Something flickered in his expression. Not quite hurt, but close.
βNo,β he said after a second. βYeah. I meanββ He sighed. βDoes it sound that stupid?β
You took another sip of your cappuccino, more for the excuse to think than anything else. βItβs an βIβm thinking about it.ββ
βPerfect,β he said, pulling out a business card of his and sliding it across the table. βNo pressure. No expectations. If you're interested, call me.β
You turned the card in your fingers, still watching him. βHow do you even know I draw anythingβbeside subway sketches, that is? I never told you.β
He raised an eyebrow, like he couldnβt quite believe you said it yourself. βYou donβt?β
Stupid, handsome man. βIΒ hate you.β
ββ β’ γ»βΈβΈ
Back at your desk, you twirled Satoruβs business card between your fingers, trying to make sense of it all. Was he being genuine? Or was he making fun of you?Β
You glanced at the flowers heβd gifted youβstill sitting in the large glass vase Mei had found in the office kitchen. They were slightly too vibrant, slightly too much, still too beautiful to ignore. No one brought those kinds of flowers as a joke. Right? And yet, the absurdity of it all made you question even that.Β
You slipped the card into your desk drawer and turned your attention to the ad campaign mockups waiting on your screen. But your focus faltered. Your mind kept drifting back to blue eyes, white hair, and the warmth in his voice when he said your name.
Aki appeared at your desk not long after, not even trying to hide her curiosity. You offered her the bare minimum. Just someone whose portrait youβd sketched on the train. Nothing serious. When she pressed further, you sighed and handed over his business card.
Her reaction was immediate. βGojo Holdings? That Gojo?β
You nodded, reluctantly.
βAnd he wants to commission you? For art? In his office?β
βHe mentioned it,β you said, already regretting sharing anything.
She didnβt miss the nuance. βOh. He mentioned it. But also stared at you like you hung the moon?β
Your cheeks warmed. She grinned.
That evening, you moved the card from your desk drawer to your wallet, telling yourself itβs just in case you decide to take the commission. Nothing more.Β
The rational part of your brain knew this entire situation had βbad ideaβ written all over itβin flashing neon, no less. But the less rational part of your brain kept remembering how he looked at your sketch as if it were something precious. Not just charcoal on paper.
Days passed. Then weeks.
You kept up your morning ritualβtrain sketches, quiet observation, the meditative act of putting pencil to paper. But now, each time you boarded, your eyes scanned the car, quietly wishing to see him again. He never appeared.
The business card moved againβfrom your wallet to your bedside table, then tucked into your sketchbook, then back to your wallet. You drafted emails. Professional, polite. None of them made it past your drafts folder.
And then, lifeβas it so often doesβmade the decision for you.
It started with your car being a bit bumpy, then a strange rattle under the hood. And finally, smoke. The repair bill was roughly equivalent to two monthsβ rent.
That night, you sat at your kitchen table, staring at your bank account and mentally rearranging numbers that didnβt cover the bill no matter what you tried. Between rent, old student loans, and the usual cost of just existing, you didnβt have a cushion big enough to absorb the hit and your parents were still helping your younger sibling through college. Credit cards would only delay the problem.
Your gaze drifted to the business card sitting on the counter where youβd left it earlier. A commission from Gojo Holdings would cover surely more than the car repairs. And then some.
ββ β’ γ»βΈβΈ
βThis entire hallway is yours to reimagine,β Satoru said, gesturing with a casual sweep of his arm. You trailed a few steps behind, sketchbook in hand, scribbling notes as he pointed at one blank wall after another. βBoardroom entrances, reception, executive officesβthe whole floor could use your touch.β
The headquarters of Gojo Holdings was exactly what youβd imagined. Sleek, modern, almost intimidating. Walls of glass divided up the offices, giving the illusion of privacy without actually offering much of it. Matte blacks, brushed steel, deep grays, and just enough warm wood or marble veining to say βtastefulβ without inviting any real comfort. But maybe that was the point.
Offices like this werenβt meant to feel cozy. In these rooms, decisions were made that shifted markets. Billions moved with a gesture. A signature. A nod. And somewhere at the center of it all was Satoru Gojo, walking through it like he was on his way to pick up coffee at the mall.
βHow many pieces are we talking about?β you asked, already measuring the length of yet another white wall in your mind.
βHowever many feels right.β He glanced over his shoulder just in time to catch your raised brow. βWhat? I mean it.β
βYou know, most clients have a vision board. Timelines. Color codes. Budgets. A whole approval chain.β
βIβm not most clients.β
βClearly.β
He continued the tour, leading you through a maze of meeting rooms and long corridors, while you took notes in your sketchbookβdimensions, how the light shifted through the glass and how certain walls caught the sun.Β
You paused often to sketch rough layouts or mark potential placements, all while trying to ignore the way Satoru was watching you more than the rooms.
βAnd this,β Satoru said, stopping in front of a pair of sleek double doors, βis my office.β
His office was hugeβat least four times the size of your apartmentβwith windows stretching from floor to ceiling, offering a stunning view of the Tokyo skyline. Gentle afternoon sunlight streamed in, causing everything to shimmer softly, as if in a dream.
βItβsβ¦β you hesitated, searching for a word that wouldnβt stroke his ego, ββ¦adequate.β
Satoru burst out laughing. βAdequate? That might be the first time anyoneβs used that word to describe my office.β
βIβm sure people usually fall over themselves with compliments.β You moved towards the windows. βI thought Iβd try something different.β
βAnd that,β he said, following with hands tucked casually in his pockets, βis exactly why I hired you.β
βBecause I donβt stroke your ego?β
βBecause youβre straight forward. I like that.β
Something in his tone made you glance up at him, but his expression was unreadable as he gazed out at the city below.
βThat wall there,β he continued, pointing to the large empty space behind his desk, βis where I originally thought your work would go. But then I thought, why not the whole floor?β
You walked his office slowly, taking in the space, the light, the simplicity. βItβs quite the blank canvas.β
βIβve been told my style is too minimalist.β
βBy who? The interior design magazine that did a feature on your last penthouse?β
His eyes widened a little before crinkling at the corners. βYou Googled me.β
βBasic research before meeting a new client,β you said, but your cheeks, of course, betrayed you.
βMmhmm.β He didnβt look convinced. βCome here. I want to show you something.β
You approached the window where he stood.
βSee that building there?β He pointed toward the horizon. βThe one with the copper coloured roof?β
You squinted, seeing hundreds of buildings but not sure which one he meant. βNot reallyβ¦β
βMay I?β
Before you could fully register the question, he was behind you, one hand grazing your shoulder, the other gently tilting your chin to guide your gaze. His warmth at your back made your breath hitch.
βThere,β he said, his voice brushing your ear. βBetween those two towers. Thatβs where I first saw your work. A small gallery in Ginza. Community showcase. Your cityscape series.β
Your pulse stumbled. βYou knew? All this time?β
βKind of, yeah,β he admitted, still close enough that you could feel the quiet rumble of his words. βIβd actually thought about commissioning you back thenβat the gallery. But things got busy, and I let it go. When I saw your sketch on the train, I recognized it immediately and it felt likeβ¦ I donβt know. A sign. Like the universe was giving me a second chance.β
βHow poetic.β You turned slightly, realizing his face was only inches from yours. βWhy didnβt you just ask the gallery for my contact info? Wouldβve saved you a lot of time. And posters.β
His lips curved into that maddening smile. βWhereβs the fun in that?β
βYouβre so weird.β
βSays the woman who stalks stranger on the train and draws them.β
βYouβre the stalker here.β
βSo, what do you think?β He stepped back and leaned casually against his desk. βCan you handle transforming the most boring executive floor in Tokyo?β
βLetβs talk numbers first.β
βI was thinking something in the range of two million yen for the full project,β he replied, watching you carefully.
You nearly choked. That was more than generousβenough to fix your car, pay off a good chunk of your student loans, maybe even take a breath for once. But something in his easy confidence made you want to test his limits.
βFour million,β you said, eyes steady. Bold.
His brows lifted. βThatβs quite a jump.β
βIβm quite an artist.β
βThatβs already well aboveββ
You tilted your head, pretending to reconsider. βHmm. So, if you donβt want meβ¦β
You let the words hang as you casually closed your sketchbook and took a slow step backward, turning like you were ready to walk out. βI get it. Itβs a big commitment. Iβm sure someone else can paint your sterile corporate walls.β
Satoru blinked. βWaitββ
You took another step.
βThree million,β he said. βFinal offer.β
βDeal,β you replied, quick before he could change his mind. βBut I have conditions. I want full creative freedom.β
βNaturally.β He pushed off the desk and extended his hand. βThree million yen, complete creative freedom, and dinner.β
Your hand froze halfway to his. βDinner?β
βJust a simple business dinner,β he said innocently. βTo go over project details.β
βWe can go over those in an email.β
βSome things are better discussed in person. Over good food. And maybe a glass of wine.β
You crossed your arms. βThat sounds suspiciously like a date.β
βOnly if you want it to be,β he said, mirroring your stance.
βI donβt.β
βThen itβs not.β
You narrowed your eyes. βFine. One business dinner.β
βAt Narisawa,β he added casually. βPrivate dining room, excellent view.β
βNarisawa? Thatβs a two month waiting list.β
βNot for everyone.β
βYouβre really trying to blur the lines between business and private, arenβt you?β
βIβm merely suggesting a restaurant worthy of an three million yen commission.β
βMcDonaldβs exists.β
βIβm not taking you to McDonaldβs.β
βI thought I had creative control in this partnership.β
βOver the art,β he said. βDining arrangements fall under my jurisdiction.β
You gave him a look. βIβm starting to think this dinner is more important to you than the actual commission.β
βWhat would give you that impression?β
βMaybe because youβre pushing harder for this dinner than you did for the art.β
βI didnβt need to push for the art. You were already sold.β
βPresumptuous.β
βAm I wrong?β
You sighed, knowing you were fighting a losing battle. βOne dinner. No private roomβthatβs weird. Main restaurant only. And Iβm paying for myself.β
βMain restaurantβs fine,β he conceded, far too agreeable. βBut Iβm paying. Consider it a signing bonus.β
βThatβs not how signing bonuses work.β
βIt is at my company.β
βFine. But this changes nothing. Itβs strictly professional.β
βOf course,β he said. βJust two colleagues having a quiet eight course meal at one of Tokyoβs finest restaurants. Completely professional.β
βYouβre impossible.β
βAnd yet, here you are, agreeing to both the commission and dinner.β
You extended your hand to finally seal the deal. βThree million yen, full creative control, and oneβsingular, not two, only oneβbusiness dinner.β
He took your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, and you hated how weak that made your knees feel.
βIf you say so,β he said.
ββ β’ γ»βΈβΈ
Over the next two weeks, Gojo Holdings basically became your second home. You spent hours wandering the halls, filling your sketchbook with rough layouts and scribbled notes, snapping photos of how the light shifted from morning to dusk.Β
The project had you more energized than anything youβd worked on in years. Full creative freedom and a proper budget? That almost never happened. You didnβt want to waste it.
What you hadnβt expected was how often youβd see Satoru, though. Despite being constantly pulled into meetings and conference calls, you know, running a whole financial empire and all that, he somehow always knew when you were in the building.
Sometimes youβd catch glimpses of him through the glass walls of the conference rooms, commanding attention with a casual confidence that was almost mesmerizing to watch. Heβd be deep in conversation with some serious looking executives, completely in his element, and then, as if he could sense your gaze, his eyes would find yours. A subtle wink or the ghost of a smile just for you, and suddenly your stomach would do that stupid fluttering thing again.
Other times, heβd justβ¦ appear. Out of nowhere. Usually while you were measuring a wall or standing on your tiptoes trying to track the afternoon shadows.
βNeed a hand?β heβd ask, already handing you a coffee like he knew you forgot to eat again and make some terrible joke about βhangingβ your work. (βGet it? Because theyβll be hanging on the wall?β βYes, Satoru, I get it. Itβs still not funny.β βYou smiled though.β)
Heβd carve out little bits of timeβten minutes here, twenty thereβdespite his full schedule. Sometimes heβd walk with you through the space, telling stories about silly board meetings. Seriously, who wouldβve thought that a company handling millions in the stock market could be run like a sitcom half the time?Β
Other times, heβd just sit nearby while you sketched, sipping his coffee in silence and letting you work. Strangely enough, his presence was never distracting. If anything, it feltβ¦ comfortable. Good, even.
And occasionally, heβd say something that surprised you. A thought about layout. A comment about color balance. Something you didnβt expect from a guy who usually talked in numbers and strategies.
βShouldnβt you be doing CEO things instead of analyzing my color palette?β youβd ask.
βI could, but Iβve already yelled at three departments today. Iβm ahead of schedule,β heβd reply with a grin.
And the strangest part wasnβt how much he was around. It was how quickly you got used to it. And how weirdly empty the rooms felt when he wasnβt there.
Your concept came together almost on its own. A series about Tokyo told through its people. Not neon signs or city skylines, more salarymen passed out on the train, old women gossiping in corner markets, teenagers packed into ramen shops after school. Quiet, ordinary moments that felt honest. Human.
Your apartment turned chaotic. Canvases leaned against furniture, reference photos were spread across every flat surface, and your sketches were taped to the windows just to see how they looked in different light. You worked late most nights, completely losing track of time until your stomach reminded you that you hadnβt eaten anything except an energy drink and half a protein bar.
Youβd send status updates to Satoru sometimes. Professionally, mostly.
The concept boards are coming along well. Iβll have something concrete to show you by next week. β You
His replies, however, did not share your sense of professional distance:
Iβm sure theyβre amazing, but Iβd rather see the artist than the art. When are you letting me buy you dinner? β SG
You rolled your eyes at his persistence, but you couldnβt help the small smile tugging at your lips.
The art comes before the artist. Patience, Mr. Gojo. β You
Mr. Gojo was my father. Iβm Satoru to you, remember? And patience has never been my strong suit. β SG
The exchanges continued like thisβyou sending actual work updates, him responding with barely veiled attempts to see you again. It was absurd. Unprofessional. And yetβ¦ you looked forward to his replies more than you cared to admit.
Three weeks in, his patience seemed to officially ran out:
Dinner. This Friday. 8 PM. Iβve already made reservations at Narisawa. Unless youβre planning to work through the weekend again? β SG
You stared at the message for a long moment before typing back:
Iβm in the middle of the sixth canvas. Friday wonβt work. β You
His response came almost immediately:
Art can wait. Food canβt. The reservation is at 8. β SG
You scoffed.
I donβt recall agreeing to this Friday. Reschedule? β You
Ten minutes passed with no response. You had just returned to your canvas when your phone rang. His name lit up the screen.
βHello?β
βI donβt accept a no.β
βThat sounds problematic.β
He laughed. βOnly when it comes to dinner invitations. Specifically ones Iβve been waiting weeks for.β
βIβm covered in paint and havenβt slept properly in days.β
βYou could show up in pajamas and still be the most interesting person in the room.β
βFlattery wonβt work.β
βYouβre an awful liar, you know that? Your voice just did that thing it does when youβre trying not to smile.β
Your traitor lips curved anyway. βYou canβt possibly know that over the phone.β
βBut Iβm right, arenβt I?β
You sighed and set your brush down. βWhy are you so persistent about this dinner?β
βBecause I want to see you,β he said simply. βBecause youβve been painting pieces for my walls and I havenβt even seen your progress. Because maybe I miss the way you look at me like youβre immune to my charm.β
βI could send photos of the work.β
βOr,β he said, βyou could wear something you like, let me feed you something expensive, and tell me about your process in person.β
βYou wonβt let me out of this, will you?β
βNo.β
You sighed. βFine. But Iβm paying for myself.β
βWeβll discuss that over appetizers.β
βThereβs nothing to discuss.β
βFriday at 8,β he said, ignoring your protest. βIβll pick you up.β
βI can take the train.β
βHumor me.β
You could practically hear the smile in his voice.
βHas anyone ever told you youβre impossible?β
βYou. Repeatedly. Itβs part of our thing.β
βWe donβt have a thing.β
βYet,β he added. And before you could argue, βIβll see you Friday. Wear something that makes you happy.β
After the call ended, you stared at your phone for a few moments longer, until the screen turned black.
Somehow, despite your best efforts and at least three attempts to ghost him, you had a dinner on Friday night. Not a date, you told yourself. A business dinner. With a man who was way too attractive, way too confident, and had launched an entire campaign just to commission you. Totally normal.
You turned back to your canvas and tried to focus, but the flutter in your stomach wouldnβt go away.
It was just dinner. In a restaurant. With candlelight and probably a lot of eye contact. Nothing more.
Still, as you painted into the night, you caught yourself wondering what you might wear that would make you feel good. And maybeβjust maybeβmake him look at you the way he had in his office, when he stood so close you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin.
Strictly professional, you reminded yourself.
Even you didnβt believe it anymore.
ββ β’ γ»βΈβΈ
Friday evening arrived with the kind of weird, way too warm weather that made you rethink your outfit three times before settling on something that felt like youβcomfortable but still nice enough for... whatever game Satoru might be playing.
You were fixing your lipstick when your phone buzzed.
Downstairs. Take your time. β SG
You walked over to the window for a quick glance outsideβand there he was.
Satoru was leaning against the passenger side of a sleek black car, arms crossed, dressed in a dark suit that looked almost identical to the one heβd worn the day you first saw him on Line 4. As if he could feel your gaze, he looked up. And saw you.Β
No wave, no winkβjust a slow, knowing smile spread across his lips.
You blinked and stepped back from the window, heart fluttering in a strange way it hadnβt in a long time. Who even was this man? And how had he managed to get under your skin so completely, so quickly? You were dressing up, wearing lipstick, checking the window like some high school crush was picking you up for prom.
It was ridiculous. Stupid, even.
You grabbed your bag, took a breath, and headed downstairs before your brain had time to start asking too many questions.
He was still just a client. A persistent, maddeningly handsome client.
When you stepped out, he was still leaning against the passenger side door and just for a moment, he froze. No smirk. No teasing remark. Nothing prepared. His usual cool confidence seemed to falter as his eyes swept over you slowly and deliberately, like he wasnβt quite sure he was seeing you right.
βWow,β he said quietly, straightening up a little and running a hand through his hair before letting out a breath. βYou lookβ¦β He actually stopped to find the wordβthat alone felt suspicious. ββ¦really beautiful.β
βStop that.β
βStop what? Being honest? Sorry, not tonight.β
Before you could say anything else, he was already opening the car door for you, one hand briefly touching the small of your back as you slid inside. Not in a sleazy way. More like it came naturally to him. Which made you almost forget to be annoyed by his presumption.
ββ β’ γ»βΈβΈ
Narisawa was exactly what you expected and somehow even moreβthe kind of place where the lighting was soft without being dim, where the air smelled faintly of thyme and something far more expensive, and where every detail felt carefully chosen to whisper, βyou absolutely cannot afford thisβ.
Satoru had, of course, managed to get a table by the window, offering a view of the skyline that felt almost unreal. It was the kind of view that made the whole night feel like it belonged in a movie and made you almost forget this was technically a business dinner.
Conversation came easier than youβd expected. Over the first few coursesβeach one more art piece than meal, which made you feel slightly guilty about ruining it by eating it (I mean, who does that? Making such pretty food just for it to end up in a stomach?)βyou talked about everything from your work as a designer and your favourite bands, to his tragic inability to make anything more complicated than instant noodles, and how he once almost made it into the national basketball team.
But what surprised you most was the way he asked about your art. He had a way of asking about that didnβt feel performative or polite. He was actually listening, not just waiting for his turn to talk.
βSo, the third piece,β he said, slicing into what was probably the most perfectly cooked fish youβd ever tasted. βThe one with the commutersβhow do you get that sense of movement in a still frame?β
You paused. βYouβve been paying attention.β
βI told youβIβm interested in your process.β
βMost clients only ask when itβll be done and how much itβll cost.β
He smiled, lifting his wine glass. βIβm not most clients,β he said, echoing what heβd told you that first day at his headquarters.
For the next twenty minutes, you talked shop. Layering techniques, color and motion, how to evoke emotion without showing too much. He asked questions that actually made you thinkβsharp, specific ones that showed he wasnβt just nodding along to be polite. He was genuinely interested.
At some point, somewhere between your third course and your second glass of wine, you caught yourself relaxing. Laughing. Enjoying it. And then you paused and set your glass down.
βCan I ask you something?β you said, unsure why the question suddenly felt heavier than it should.
βAnything.β
βYou really went through all thisβthe car, this restaurant, the whole dramatic dinnerβjust to talk about brushwork and layering techniques?β
He leaned back in his chair, fingers resting lightly against his glass as he searched for the right words. βI donβt know,β he said finally. βMaybe I just like you.β
βYou like me?β you echoed, unsure if it was a question or a warning.
βIs that so hard to believe?β
βKind of, yeah.β You fidgeted with your napkin. βI mean, you could be having dinner with a dozen other people tonight. Models. Actresses. CEOsβ daughters. People who donβt get paint on their shoes and give you a hard time.β
βMaybe thatβs exactly why.β
Something shifted between you at his words. Like someone had turned the volume down on the room so you could hear each other better. You took a slow sip of wine, partly to buy time, partly to keep your expression neutral as you studied him across the table.
βSo, youβre single then?β you asked. βUnless your girlfriendβs very cool with you taking strangers to fancy dinners.β
Satoru raised an eyebrow. βAre you asking if I have a girlfriend?β
βIβm asking if I should expect an angry phone call later.β
He laughed. βNo angry phone calls. And yeahβIβm single.β
βShocking,β you said. βA successful and attractive CEO who canβt keep a girlfriend? Whatβs the catch?β
βMaybe Iβm just picky.β
βOr maybe youβre married to your work,β you teased. βLet me guessβcanceled dates for board meetings, forgotten anniversaries because of some deadline?β
βThatβsβ¦β He paused, glancing down on his glass for a moment. βActually, my last girlfriend cheated on me.β
Your smile slipped. βOh. I didnβt mean toββ
βDonβt be sorry. She wasnβt the right one. If she had been, maybe she wouldβve understood that building something that lasts takes time. And attention.β
βHow long ago was that?β
βAbout two years.β He reached for his wine, swirling it once before taking a sip. βHavenβt really dated since then.β
βSo, casual things?β
βMore like burying myself in work. Honestly, the closest thing Iβve had to female company lately is my secretary. And she has this strangely strict voice that sounds exactly like my mother when sheβs disappointed.β
You laughed, sharp and sudden, covering your mouth with your hand. It wasnβt even that funny, not really. But the way heβd said itβso dry, and slightly frightenedβand the face he made, like a kid whoβd just been scolded for wearing the wrong socks to a school recital, caught you completely off guard.
For a moment, he didnβt look like the CEO of a massive company or the man who moved literal billions without blinking. He looked boyish. Almost shy. Like he was letting you peek at something most people didnβt get to see. And somehow, that made it even funnier.
You tried to compose yourself, but your shoulders were still shaking as you dabbed at the corners of your eyes. βIβm sorry.β
He smiled as he watched you try to hold in your laughter. βI like when you laugh like that.β
βLike what?β
βLike youβre not thinking about how you look doing it.β
Something in the way he said it that made the humor settle into something softer, something that hangs in the air a little too long. Like neither of you wanted to be the one to move past it first.
βWell,β you said, trying to ignore the way your pulse had picked up, βyour secretary sounds scary. I can see why youβd rather have dinner with me.β
βAmong other reasons.β
Heat crept up your neck before you could stop it. You picked up your glass, needing the excuse to look away for a second. βAre you always this charming?β you asked, trying to sound casual, but your voice came out a little softer than intended.
βIβm trying,β he said. βWith you.β
He said it like it wasnβt heavy at all. But it was. And you could feel it settle in your chest.
βSatoruβ¦β you started, not even sure what was going to follow. But then the waiter showed up and set down the next course with a brief description you didnβt really hear because you only had eyes for him.
ββ β’ γ»βΈβΈ
Dinner had stretched well past ten, neither of you making any real effort to end the night. So when Satoru suggested a walk instead of heading straight to the car, you said yes.
The night had cooled off more than you expected, and you pulled your jacket a little tighter around your shoulders as the two of you wandered through the quiet streets near the restaurant. It had rained earlier, leaving the pavement slick and glistening under the streetlights. At one point, a small puddle stretched across the sidewalk, and before you could react, Satoru just scooped you up without a word and carried you over it like it was the most natural thing in the world.Β
Maybe it was the warmth the wine had left in your chest, or maybe it was just the way his arms felt around you, steady and sure, but you let yourself lean a little closer against him before he set you down again on the other side.Β
βThat was unnecessary,β you said, trying to sound annoyed, though you didnβt make much effort to slip out of his arms.
βMaybe,β he replied with a grin, βbut Iβve always wanted an excuse to do that.β
It felt goodβbeing with him felt really good. The kind of good that made you forget to guard yourself. The kind that crept in quietly and made you wonder what it would be like to have more nights just like this.
Youβd just rounded a corner into a small park when you heard soft violin music drifting through the air. You slowed, then stopped entirely. Just ahead, a street musician stood under the warm glow of a streetlamp, playing something slow and aching and beautiful.
You stood still and listened for a moment, a smal smile tugigng at your lips.Β
βDance with me,β Satoru said.
You turned to him. βWhat? No.β
βWhy not?β He held out a hand.
You hesitated and looked around for a second.Β
βYou know, I wonβt take βnoβ for an answer.β
You surrendered and took his hand. βThis is so stupid.β
He smiled, soft and sincere, and stepped in close. One hand found your waist, the other guiding yours up between you. His touch was warm, steady. Familiar in a way it shouldnβt be.
βYou know,β you began, as he gently started to move. Not quite dancing, more like remembering how. βI usually donβt do this with clients.β
βFigures. I always suspected I was your favourite.β
βI wouldnβt say that,β you teased. βThat other client of mine, a guy from an accounting firm is pretty smooth too.β
βOh really? Did he buy you dinner at Narisawa and slow dance with you in the park?β
βNot yet.β
βI like when you try to mess with me.β
βIβm not trying. You just make it easy.β
He spun you gently, then pulled you back in, your hand pressed lightly to his chest. You could feel his heartbeat through the fabric of his dress shirtβtoo fast, like yours.
A few people passed, smiling without staring. It didnβt matter. You were too aware of his breath near your cheek, the weight of his palm at your back, the quiet between songs that didnβt feel like silence at all.
βYouβre good at this,β you said softly.
βI only dance with people who make it easy.β
βThat line would work better if your hands werenβt shaking a little.β
He leaned in closer, his breath gazing your ear. βSo are yours.β
You swallowed, the closeness of him settling into your skin. You didnβt answer. Just let him hold you for a few more seconds, rain beginning to fall in light taps across your shoulders, your hair. And then he dipped you back gently, one hand firm behind you.
βStill think itβs stupid?β he asked.
Your breath caught as you stared up into those impossibly blue eyes, your back arching as he supported your weight effortlessly. The rest of the world faded away until there was nothing but him and the violin and the electric space between you.
βYes,β you whispered. βAbsolutely.β
βBut?β
You hesitated, then let your fingers curl lightly around the front of his jacket. βBut I donβt want it to stop.β
Thatβs when you felt the first raindrop hit your cheek.
His gaze flickered down to the raindrop on your skin, how it slowly run down, and for a second you could have sworn he looked at you lips. And maybe, just maybe you wished heβd kissed you but then the rain came heavier.
βThatβs our cue.β But he didnβt move right away. His eyes stayed on you.Β
Finally, he lifted you back up, drawing you close against his chest. You were both breathing hard, though youβd barely been moving. The rain was falling more steadily now, and you could see Satoruβs white hair beginning to darken with moisture.
βHome?β he asked, voice rougher now, like he wasnβt quite ready for the answer either.
You nodded, not trusting yourself to say anything without giving too much away. Because at some point, this had stopped feeling like dinner with a client. You werenβt sure when it changedβonly that it had. And now everything felt a little too close, a little too important.
ββ β’ γ»βΈβΈ
When the car pulled up to your building, he was out and opening your door before you could reach for the handle yourself. Of course he was. Always one step ahead, always just⦠thoughtful in that maddening, disarming way.
βThank you,β you said, stepping out into the quiet night.
βMy pleasure.βΒ
The air smelled like wet pavement and something faintly floral from someoneβs balcony. He walked you to your door, hands tucked into his pockets, eyes flicking toward the sky like he wasnβt quite ready to say goodnight either.Β
You fumbled with your keys for a moment, buying time before the inevitable goodbye. The silence stretched, not tense, but full. Full of everything that had happened and everything that hadnβt.
When you finally turned to him, he was closer than youβd expected, close enough that you could see the way his white hair had dried in soft waves from the rain. He smelled faintly of wine and cedar and like someone you could spend the rest of your life with.
βI had a really good time tonight,β you said. βThank you. For the dinner, the dancing, the completely unnecessary puddle rescueβ¦β
He smiled, a little crooked, a little tired. βEven the terrible jokes?β
βEspecially the terrible jokes. Though the stories of your secretary will probably haunt me tonight.β
βOh, she haunts everyone,β he said. βSheβs very scary.β
You both laughed, but the sound died down fast, like the moment had suddenly remembered it was trying to mean something else. His gaze dropped, if only for the briefest moment, to your lips. Your heart hammered against your ribs as you waited, hoping, expectingβ
βI should let you get some sleep,β he said. But instead of stepping back, he stepped closer.
Your breath caught as his hand roseβslow, deliberateβcoming to rest gently at the back of your head. But instead of the dreamy kiss youβd hoped for, he kissed your forehead. Not your mouth. Not even your cheek. Your forehead.
The kiss was soft, warmβoverflowing with care. But not the kind youβd been waiting for. It was tender, almost reverent, and somehow, it left you feeling strangely hollow.
βSleep well,β he murmured against your skin before pulling back. And then he turnedβjust like thatβand walked back to the car. No glance over his shoulder. No hesitation. No second thought.
Inside your apartment, you leaned against the closed door, jacket still damp against your shoulders. You touched your forehead, where his lips had been. It had been sweet. Really, it had. Justβ¦ not what youβd expected. Not what youβd wanted.
You let your head fall back against the door with a soft thud. Why hadnβt he kissed you? Why would he do all that just to not... kiss you?
Youβd been so sure. The way heβd looked at you over dinner. The way heβd held you during that ridiculous dance. The way it had all felt like a slow build to something. And you wanted that something.
But maybe that was the problem. Maybe you were just another commission to him after all, something to be handled with care but ultimately kept at armβs length.
It shouldnβt have stung the way it did. But it did.
More than you cared to admit.
ββ β’ γ»βΈβΈ
Monday morning arrived under a gray drizzle that matched your mood a little too perfectly. You stepped into a puddle on the way out, got your umbrella stuck in a doorway because youβd forgotten it was open, and then someone on the subway sneezed directly in your direction. It was that kind of morning.
Youβd spent the entire weekend replaying Friday night over in your headβevery glance, every word, every fleeting gestureβuntil youβd nearly driven yourself mad with questions that had no answers.
And Aki was absolutely no help. She was already perched on your desk when you walked in, your usual coffee in one hand and dark circles under your eyes doing all the talking.
βSooooβ¦ how was your fancy dinner?β
βIt was fine,β you said, powering up your computer.
βFine?β Mei materialized beside her like sheβd been lying in wait for gossip. βThatβs it? You go to Narisawa with the hottest CEO in Tokyo and all we get is fine?β
βIt was a business dinner. We discussed the commission.β
βWhat kind of man gets you flowers that pretty just to talk about business?β
βA man who takes his commission very seriously.β
You could feel their stares burning into the side of your head.
βCome on,β Mei pressed. βDid he kiss you? He kissed you, didnβt he? I can tell by your face.β
βHe didnβt kiss me.β
βAh,β Aki said, with that stupid satisfaction of someone whoβd just solved a puzzle. βSo you wanted him to.β
You groaned and buried your face in your hands. βCan we please not?β
But of course, they were relentless, firing question after question at you about what you wore, what you ate, what he said, if there was a βvibeββuntil you were actually grateful for that boring meeting before lunch with a client who always rejected your ideas, made you change them back and forth a dozen times, and inevitably circled back to the original design. As frustrating as that was, it still didnβt compare to what was coming later.
You had a meeting with Satoru after work to talk about delivery logisticsβwhen to bring the artwork, how many pieces were ready. The commission was nearly complete, and a few canvases could be brought to his office already. But the thought of standing across from him again, making small talk about framing and placement, felt unbearable.
Not to mention figuring out how to get those giant canvases out of your apartment, which was now packed to the walls with drying paint, sketches, and so many drop cloths youβd basically lost your kitchen to the cause.
For weeks, this commission had felt like the best thing to happen to your career. But now, standing outside the gleaming tower that housed his office, you werenβt sure what to think anymore.
Was this just business to him? Had you imagined the connection, the tension, the way he looked at you like you were someone special? Maybe successful men like Satoru Gojo were just naturally charming, and youβd been naive enough to think it meant something more.
You straightened your shoulders and walked into the building. If he wanted professional, he could have professional. You had a job to do, no matter what kind of game your heart thought it was playing.
You raised your hand to knock on his office doorβthough really, there was no need. The walls were glass, and heβd already spotted you the second you moved.Β
He was on the phone, his shoulder pinning it in place as he typed something on the laptop in front of him. With a slight nod of his head, he gestured for you to come in. And there it was againβthat maddening smile. The one that made it look like his whole face lit up just from seeing you.
You stepped inside, lingering uncertainly near the door. He was still deep in conversation, something about a company merger and someone named Gerald being an absolut idiot, and how he might as well handle it himself. Always busy, it seemed.Β
Satoru shifted the phone slightly and glanced at you. βHey, you want coffee?β
You nodded and then he was back to his call. You wandered a little further into his office, taking in the space. It was always so tidy which felt strangely at odds with how chaotic his work seemed to be. You drifted toward the tall windows and looked down at the city below. In the gentle afternoon sun, people were rushing through the cityβcommuters heading home, students in uniform, ordinary lives unfolding far beneath you.
Satoru stood and walked over to you. He was closeβWhy would he come so close?βand placed a hand gently at your waist, a brief touch that lingered just long enough to make your breath catch. He pressed the phone to his chest for a moment.Β
βSorry for the wait,β he said, voice low. βIβm nearly done.βΒ
And then he was gone, stepping out of the office and leaving you reeling.
When he returned two minutes later, he had two mugs in one hand and a canned coffee tucked under his arm, balancing it all as he kicked open the door with his foot. Phone was still pressed between his shoulder and ear. He poured two cups and handed you a one, flashing you that easy smile of his.
You took a seat on the couch, sipping carefully and doing your best not to make eye contact. But you were sure heβd already noticed the flush creeping into your cheeks.
Finally, he hung up and let out a long sigh.Β
βIβm so sorry. Thereβs this big merger weβre handling, and the guy in charge is like the biggest idiot Iβve ever met.β
βItβs okay.β
He ran a hand through his hair, sending it falling messily back over his forehead.
βNo, itβs not. I donβt want to keep you waiting.β
βI bet that just comes naturally with being important.β
βIβm not that important,β he replied with a grin.
βThe whole tower has your name on it. Iβd say that qualifies.β
βWhatβs more important right now,β he said, standing and walking over to you, βis you.β He took the seat across from you. βSoβ¦ how was your day? Treat you well?β
Why was he asking about your day now? What kind of game was he playing?
βIt was fine. Mondayβs not exactly my favorite.β
βDonβt get me started.β He laughed. βI hope at least your meeting went well?β
You blinked. He remembers? Youβd mentioned it briefly during dinner.
βOh, uhβ¦ yeah. It went okay,β you said. βBut letβs talk about the commission. Thatβs why Iβm here, right?β
He frowned, and there was a moment of silence. βSure.β
You spent the next hour and a half going over the artworkβdiscussing placement, lighting, framing. He was enthusiastic and attentive, genuinely appreciative in a way that still surprised you, even now.
You moved through the headquarters together. Most people had gone home by then. The sun had already set, casting long shadows through the quiet halls. A few late workers lingered, but Satoru told them to go and rest and sent them home. And just like that, it was the two of you, walking side by side through the empty building, planning where each piece would live.
It was in one of the offices on the west side of the buildingβthe ones with the perfect view of Tokyo Towerβthat you found yourself on your tiptoes, trying to tape a placeholder on the wall for one of the larger pieces. You stretched, struggling to reach just high enough to get the angle right.
βWait, let me.β
Before you could respond, Satoru was suddenly right behind you. He gently took the tape from your fingers, easily reaching over you to press it into place. His body hovered just a breath away, tall and warm.
βThank you,β you said, suddenly flushed. But he didnβt move away. βYou can step back now.β You didnβt dare turn around because if you did, you would end up facing his chest. And you really didnβt want to face his chest.
βDoes this make you uncomfortable?β
βWhat kind of question is that?β
βIβm just checking in,β he said casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world to stand inches away from someone like this.
βYou have a strange way of doing that.β
βI had a feeling.β
βAbout what?β
βYouβre avoiding me.β
βI donβt.β
He reached out, fingers brushing your shoulder, and then slowly trailed the back of his hand down your arm. It sent a shiver down your spine that you hoped he didnβt notice.
βSo this doesnβt bother you?β he asked, almost curious.
βSatoru, whatβs your mission here?β
You finally turned to face him and regretted it immediately. You were much too close, nearly pressed against him. His white dress shirt did nothing to hide the muscle beneath, and you hated the fact that your first thought was how unfairly good heβd look without it.
βYouβre blushing.β He reached out, gently cupping your chin and tilting your face up toward his.
βItβs hot.β
βIt isnβt,β he said, and smiled.
He was right. It was around eighteen degrees. Damn these fancy offices and their perfectly functioning ACs.
βCan we go back to work? Iβd rather not have a sleepover here.β
Satoru didnβt move. Instead, he leaned in closer, placing one hand against the wall beside your head, caging you in.
βYouβre acting strange today,β he said softly.
βMaybe because youβre keeping me here.β
βWas I mistaken?β
βAbout what?β
βOur date.β
βWhat about it?β
His hand dropped from your chin. βI thought it wasβ¦ good.β
You blinked, trying to read him. βIt wasββ you cleared your throat, ββit wasnβt just good. It was great.β
βOh. Yeahβ¦ I think so too. Then whyββ
βBut you didnβt kiss me.β
His eyes widened just a little. βYouβ¦ wanted me to kiss you?β
βIβ¦β You hesitated, feeling your face getting even hotter then is already was. βYes.β
βI thought Iβd be a gentleman and take things slow. Are we actually kissing on first dates these days?β
βI meanβ¦ yeah. It dependsβI guess, butβ¦β You trailed off, absolutely flustered.
He paused for a beat, then that maddeningly smug grin spread across his lips.
βDonβt smile like that,β you said, pushing lightly against his chest.
βIβm sorry, I justβ¦ I didnβt want to rush things. I mean, my whole approach was already kind ofββ
βWeird? Borderline stalkerββ And then his lips were on yours, silencing your words.Β
No hesitation this time. No uncertainty. You melted into him instantly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.Β
His hands slid into your hair, fingers threading through the strands as he tilted your head back, deepening the kiss with a confidence that made your knees go weak. One hand traced the line of your jaw while the other found the small of your back, pulling you closer until not even air could fit between you.
You could taste the coffee on his lips, could feel the slight tremor in his hands that betrayed that he wasnβt as composed as he looked. When he pulled back, you were both breathless, foreheads pressed together under the dim lights.
βStill think this is just about the commission?β he asked, his thumb brushing gently across your bottom lip, now flushed and swollen from his kiss.
βShut up.β And then you grabbed him by his tie and pulled him back to your lips.
This kiss was different. Hungrier. Needier. He pressed you back against the wall, one hand braced beside your head, the other tangled deep in your hair. You couldnβt stop the soft sound that escaped when he deepened it further, like youβd been waiting for this longer than you wanted to admit.
βWhatβs the hurry?β he whispered between kisses, his mouth trailing along your jaw.
βYou made a whole-ass campaign to find me,β you said, breathless, your fingers twisted in his shirt. βDonβt back down now.β
His laugh was low and rough against your neck. βFair point.β
Before you could answer, his hands slid down to your thighs, and suddenly you were being lifted, your back pressed firmly against the wall as he held you there effortlessly. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and the new position brought you eye-level with him, close enough to see just how dark his eyes had gone.
βStill too slow for you?β he asked against your throat, his breath warm on your skin.
βGetting there,β you managed, though your voice was shakier than youβd intended, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance.
βI do like a challenge.β
Without breaking the kiss, Satoru carried you across the floor into his office, your legs still wrapped around his waist, until he reached the leather couch by the windows. He lowered you both down, following you as you sank into the soft cushions, his weight settling over you as his hands framed your face.
βMuch better,β he breathed against your lips.
His kisses deepened, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world to explore the taste of you. One hand slid into your hair while the other traced the curve of your waist.Β
βI hope you sent everyone home,β you said, fingers threading through his white hair as his mouth moved along your neck.
βDonβt worry. And besidesβglass or not, the walls are soundproof. One of the perks of being CEO.β
βHow convenient.β
βI thought so.β His teeth grazed the sensitive spot just beneath your jaw, making you gasp and arch beneath him. βThough I have to admitβI didnβt imagine using it like this when I had them installed.β
You tugged gently at his hair, bringing his mouth back to yours. βThen what did you imagine?β
βBoring conference calls,β he said between kisses. βDefinitely not as interesting as this.β
The leather of the couch was cool against your back where your shirt had ridden up, highlighting the heat of his large hands as they explored the newly exposed skin. Outside, Tokyo shimmered in the night, but the only thing holding your attention was the man above youβthe way he kissed you like he was memorizing every reaction, every breath, every soft sound you made.
βWhat makes you think Iβm that loud?β you murmured against his mouth.
βOh, I have a feeling.β
His hand drifted lower, fingers tracing the curve of your hip before skimming up the inside of your thigh. The touch sent a rush through your veins, making you gasp softly into his kiss.
βSatoru,β you whispered, fingers gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him closer as his touch grew bolder.
βI know.β His hand inched lower between your legs, while his lips kissed down your neck. βI hate waiting too.β
Then his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your jeans, chasing every bit of tension that had been building between you since that very first subway sketch. And as the lights of Tokyo glittered beyond the glass, the rest of the world fell away, leaving nothing but the heat between youβand the things neither of you could hold back any longer.
ββ β’ γ»βΈβΈ
Later, you lay tangled together on the leather couch, your head resting on his chest as his fingers traced lazy patterns along your bare shoulder. Everything had gone still, except for your breathing and the distant noise of Tokyo still awake outside.
βSo,β Satoru said, his voice warm with amusement, βwhere exactly did we leave off with the commission?β
You lifted your head to look at him, a smile tugging at your lips. βPretty sure we got distracted somewhere around placing the canvas in the west office block.β
βAh, yesβthe once perfect placement. Facing the window, not the door. βOmg, what was I thinking?ββ he teased in a gentle mimic of your voice, his fingers tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. βFor what Iβm paying you, I really have no say.β
βDonβt blame this on me. You gave me full creative freedom. Or maybe you need better negotiation tactics.β
βMy negotiation tactics are pretty solid,β he protested, his chest rumbling with quiet laughter beneath your cheek. βI got exactly what I wanted.β
βThe art commission?β
βAmong other things.β His arms tightened around you, drawing you closer. βThough I still think the pieces should face the door, so I can see them from the hallway when I pass that office.β
βIs that your professional opinion, Mr. CEO?β
βThatβs my completely biased, utterly smitten opinion,β he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. βThe CEO in me would probably have a lot to say about the productivity level of tonight.β
βPoor productivity indeed. We only managed to discuss half the rooms.β
βTerrible oversight.β His hand slid slowly down your back, caressing your hip. βWeβll have to schedule another meeting. Several, probably. Very intensive. Very hands-on.β
βHands-on is definitely the way to go with this project,β you said, tilting your face up to meet his gaze, and the look he gave you was so tender it made your heart skip.
In one smooth motion, he flipped you beneath him again, his weight settling over you as his lips found yours. βI think we should continue our discussion right now,β he murmured, trailing kisses down your throat.
You were just beginning to melt into his touch when the sound of the office door opening made you both freeze.
βOh fuck! I didnβt know you were still here,β a voice blurted.
You scrambled to grab Satoruβs shirt from the floor next to the couch and pulled it over yourself as you pressed back into the couch cushions. Thankfully, the back of the couch faced the door, giving you at least some cover, but your heart was hammering so hard you were sure whoever it was could hear it.
Satoru pushed himself up, running a hand through his messy hair, looking far too at ease for someone whoβd just been caught in a very compromising position
βSuguru,β he said, voice calm and unbothered. βWhatβs up?β
βDonβt botherβIβm just looking for my laptop charger. Iβll leave.β
βItβs okay. We were just...β Satoru began, then seemed to realize there was no good way to finish that sentence. β...Having a meeting.β
You buried your face in your hands, mortified. Why the hell is he starting a conversation right now? This was not how youβd imagined your evening endingβalmost naked on Satoruβs office couch, wearing only his shirt, while his colleague stood in the doorway looking for his goddamn laptop charger.Β
The time you waited for the guy to get his charger were the most agonizing twenty second of your whole life and to your bad, Satoru wasnβt even the slightest bit ashamed.
Little did you know that Suguru would become one of your closest friends once you and Satoru were actually in a relationship. But every single birthday party or casual gathering, that story would come again. βHaha, did you know Suguru caught us on the couch?β Satoru would joke, while Suguru would groan, βCan we please never talk about that again?β
Six months later, the apartment Satoru found for the two of you was perfect in the way only he could manageβspacious enough for both of you to have your own creative corners and with big windows that caught the morning light beautifully and offered a stunning view of the city skyline. It was nestled just across from a quiet park where the trees already turned gold for autumn.
But it was the room heβd turned into your art studio that brought you to tears the first time you saw it. Windows that faced the north for consistent lighting, spacious storage for your materials, and enough wall space to work on several large canvases at once.
βYou didnβt have to do all this,β youβd said, running your fingers along the custom easel heβd installed.
βI wanted to,β heβd replied simply, wrapping his arms around you from behind. βI want to see what you create when you have all the space and time in the world.β
Youβd cut your hours at Takahashi Media Group down to part-timeβsomething that wouldβve been financially impossible before Satoru. But the commission for his headquarters had led to three more corporate projects, and suddenly, you had enough steady work to support yourself as an artist. Real work. Meaningful work. Not just subway sketchesβthough you still did those too. Now, Satoru sometimes joined you on weekend train rides, amused by the way strangers reacted to receiving unexpected portraits.
Your mornings became a rhythm of coffee in bed while he read financial reports and you sketched ideas for new pieces. After the third time he found you passed out over a canvas at 2 AM, having forgotten to eat dinner, he installed a espresso machine in your studio. Now, heβd show up with perfectly crafted lattes and whatever takeout heβd ordered, settling into the window seat with his laptop while you paintedβtaking calls with investors in Tokyo, New York, and London, all while keeping an eye on you and making sure you donβt overwork yourself again.
βYou know I can hear you smiling through the phone,β youβd tease after he hung up from his calls.
βCanβt help it,β heβd say. βIβve got the most beautiful view in the city right here.β
The subway sketches evolved too. Instead of giving them all away, you started keeping someβthe ones that captured something more, moments that felt like little revelations about people, about life. Satoru convinced you to include them in a group exhibition at a gallery in Shibuya. The opening night was small and intimate, but watching people connect with your work in a way they never had when you were just handing out drawings on trains felt like validation of everything youβd been trying to do.
βThis feels like coming full circle,β Satoru whispered into your ear as you both watched guests study your pieces, his hand resting warmly at the small of your back.
βFrom stalking me through my art to displaying it properly?β
βFrom falling in love with your workβ¦ to falling in love with you,β he corrected. And even after months of dating, after hearing him say those words more times than you could count, they still made your heart skip.
Suguru became an unexpected constant in your life too. What began hella awkward slowly turned into real friendship. And the three of you fell into an easy routine of weekend dinners and spontaneous museum visits, Suguru often playing the role of best friend and occasional voice of reason when Satoruβs grand romantic gestures got out of hand.
Which happened more often than youβd expected. Like the time he rented out an entire floor of a restaurant because youβd wanted to eat there but hated crowded rooms. Or when he bought a whole flower shopβs worth of peonies because youβd mentioned loving them once. Or the morning you woke up to find the cityβs best sushi chefβapparently an old friend of his, because Satoru seemed to know everyone in this goddamn townβpreparing breakfast in your kitchen, just because youβd been craving good fish.
βYou know you donβt have to keep trying to impress me,β you told him after each increasingly excessive gesture. βI already said yes to moving in with you.β
βIβm not trying to impress you. Iβm trying to spoil you. Thereβs a difference.β
The truth was, it was the small things that meant the most. The way heβd automatically order your coffee when you were running late, or how heβd text you photos of interesting architecture from whatever city he was traveling through, or the fact that heβd learned to distinguish between your different paintbrushes and how to clean them properly when you forgot.Β
He even kept a sketchbook of his own now, filled with terrible but enthusiastic drawings of you working, cooking, sleeping, just existing in the space youβd built together.
Your family adored him, of course. Your mother immediately started calling him her βsecond sonβ after a chaotic family dinner heβd attendedβwhich, by the way, you always thought was kind of weird. Like, why would parents call him their βsonβ when he was spending every other night between your thighs?βStill, he charmed everyone with stories about his work, genuine interest in your fatherβs completely ordinary job and about your cousinsβ college applicationsβand even remembered your auntβs dogβs name. He always brought the perfect wine to pair with whatever your mom was cooking, and never forgot a birthday.
The subway sketches and posters that had started everything found a permanent home in the hallway of your shared apartment. A dozen framed moments that told the story of your work and your relationship. The original sketch youβd given him on that crowded train of Line 4 hung proudly in his office at work, right next to his desk where everyone could see it.
βThatβs where it all started,β heβd say whenever anyone asked. βBest investment I ever made.β
Three years later, when Satoru proposed during one of your morning train ridesβgetting down on one knee right there in the subway car where you first met, causing a scene that had fellow passengers cheering and taking picturesβyou realized that sometimes the best love stories start with the smallest gestures.Β
A sketch handed to a stranger. A poster campaign that was equal parts romantic and unhinged. A decision to be brave enough to call a number written on a business card.
And every morning, as you watched the city wake through the studioβs windows while Satoru hummed in the kitchen, probably checking market reports with one hand and making your coffee with the other, you couldnβt help but smile at how beautifully imperfect it all was. How your once carefully ordered life had been turned upside down by a man with white hair and the kind of heart that didnβt know how to love in small doses.
βStill think Iβm weird?β heβd ask sometimes, appearing in your studio doorway with a mug of coffee and that same grin that had made your knees weak the very first time.
βThe weirdest,β youβd always reply, taking the coffeeβand the kiss that came with it. βBut youβre my weird. And I love you.β
βI love you more,β heβd say, leaning down to kiss your forehead.
And that, youβd learned, made all the difference.
masterlist + support my writing
author's note β wait ! before you go ! if you enjoyed this story, iβd be forever grateful if youβd consider gifting me a few minutes of your time to participate in a research survey for my masterβs thesis in psychology <3 (am i shamelessly using my reach to gather primary data ? yes. yes i am. and i have no regrets.)
here's the link.
itβs completely anonymous, but just a heads-up: the survey touches on nightmares and emotional wellbeing, so it may be sensitive for some. please feel free to stop at any point if it doesnβt feel right for you.
other than that, thank you so much for reading !! i hope you enjoyed the story. i need provider!satoru gojo so bad like ugh but instead iβm stuck in higher education trying to become my own provider. send help :')))
wishing you all the soft chaos you deserve. take care <3
ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here.
*Spoiler Alert*
Jujutsu Kaisen Season 3:
The Culling Game Pt.1, Episode 11: "Tokyo Colony No. 1 , Pt.5". β€ *Review Includes some spoilers for later episodes and events.*
THE REAL MEGUMI π€β€π€β€π€
We didnt even get an intro. Went straight in.
Our Dark Hero is in the throes of his Domain Expansion,
and Reggie's flabbers are gasted. lol
Now, regarding this technique, my understanding of why this ... form ... behind Megumi appears to be a portion of a spinal column, is that his Domain isn't yet complete.
However, Megumi was complete in his resolve to perform it.
Unlike in the "Origin of Blind Obedience", he executed this with far more confidence and skill than he did back then.
Reggie counter's Meg's attack with his Hollow Wicker Basket technique, which is what Gege called the origin of the New Shadow Style, Simple Domain.
The first time I recall seeing a simple domain it was used by Miwa. It's able to neutralize a domain, and counter its guaranteed-hit factor.
The narrator then explains "Domain Amplification" used by Jogo and Hanami against Gojo in Shibuya, which could harbor a guaranteed hit/kill technique.
That method appears to be how Megumi was still able to punch him, regardless of the fact that Reggie used a Simple Domain to nullify him.
Megumi proceeds to show us another one of his bondage methods ( π€lol) as he secures Reggie in place, while landing some punches on him.
Megumi then says, "You're not smirking anymore." Like... I guess you underestimated me and the shit ain't funny now, is it? haha
Reggie's technique couldn't neutralize Megumi's, only the barrier. Except Megumi's barrier isn't complete.
Its explained that Megumi transposed his domain onto the space of the gym, forcing it to close, yet its not imbued with a guaranteed hit factor.
Gege/Narrator explains that its currently just an extension of his Ten Shadows technique, and draws out 120% of his latent potential.π€
The way he fought here, the speed of his punches and the way he renders his opponent helpless and still, reminds me SO MUCH of Toji's fight style.
Even when they were in Shibuya, Toji did the same thing to Megumi.
Reggie doesn't know those details about Megumi's technique or his domain, and Megumi used it to throw him off.
he mentioned that his domain's buff to his techniques abilities are harder to deal with than a simple guaranteed-hit domain.
The art here is so wild to me... Where Megumi continues to beat him senseless as he explains why he's having difficulty with the domain. Again, it reminded me of how fast Toji fights with just his physical abilities, especially in Season 2, when Megumi accidentally let him into the fight they had against the squid.
I really loved the way they animated this, but I cant say I understand why Reggie mentioned that his elephant would halve his options... Maybe just the fact that he'd be under water? I dunno.
But then Reggie said, he had to reinforce his footing with cursed energy to avoid being sucked in... into Megumi's shadow.
"The whole bottom of this domain is your shadow, right?"
I had to think about that for a second. That's kinda wild.
Can you imagine? β¦ getting drawn into β¦ and stuck...
In someone elses shadow?
The thought of that is terrifying. Horrific.
It also speaks to how haunting Megumi's power is.
It ... reminds me, somehow, of Geto's technique.
Whereas he swallows, and practically absorbs curses into himself.
Seems kinda similar, right?
Except Megumi can absorb PEOPLE. Is that not crazy?!
It's also one of the reasons I despise Sukuna. π
Anyway ---
Here, is the moment in this episode that I was extra proud of MAPPA for the way Megumi was presented.
He became ... an identical copy of his father, Toji.
I loved this so very much.
The determination and resolve in his eyes was spot on.
Reggie, here, mentions that he noticed Megumi hadn't used but one cursed tool. He gathered that it was because Megumi had to reserve space in his shadow for himself and needs to limit the things he places there as the weight of it all is literally on his body.
He then threatened to add even more weight until Megumi would be crushed. But...
We can always count on Megumind to be a step ahead.
Geez... Lookin' just like his daddies... BOTH Gojo and Toji's crazy asses.
hahaha!
He accounted for this, reminding Reggie that a domain is exactly what it is, and his shadow is above them as well.
He sends elephant down to fall directly on top of Reggie.
lemme tell you something....
I hate to see my Megumi in pain... but I LOVE to see him in this light. He looks soooo ... Wow. In that image.
BETTER than Toji. π and Toji is already π₯
....
The narrator/Gege mentions that typically, a human will lose consciousness at around 5 to 6 Gs... or "G-Forces". (This happens typically when blood is rushed through the body from the brain to lower half of the body, leading to tunnel-vision, and blackout in up to 10 seconds.)
Megumi was "currently suffering 40 Gs."
To sustain this, he knelt in this position, and treated his body, especially his legs, with cursed energy.
Dropping the elephant, caused Reggie to crack a few of his bones under the weight of 3 to 6 tons from the animal.
Both Megumi and Reggie faced the possibility of being crushed.
Megumi was totally satisfied with risking this to WIN.
Another reminder of him going all out, instead of holding back like before. Much like what both Gojo and Toji do.
Reggie complains that had he not dropped the cars, he might have won this fight. Seemingly minutely coutning himself out.
Reggie asks, "What if I'm stuck in his shadow forever after he dies?"
*sigh*.π - me thinking of the future of this story when he said that...
And something snaps. And I admit, the snap made me cringe...
Reggie sinks into Megumi's shadow, deeper and deeper, saying there's no air, buoyancy or resistance inside, and his consciousness is fading.
Megumi tells himself to wait and be sure he's dead before dismissing his domain, obviously not wanting all of this to have been for nothing.
Suddenly, Reggie emerges from Megumi's shadow on top of one of the cars he'd dropped inside. He says the items he generates, disappear soon after he gives them a command. The cars did not, as they had no command to execute...
... because of this, Reggie was still able to give them one, which was to bring him up from the depths of Megumi's shadow.
The weight of that car was removed from Megumi's burden, but Reggie then used his technique, Contractural Recreation, to manifest a two-story, 132 square ft building intent to drop it on Megumi to crush him.
At this point, it definitely appears Megs is in serious trouble.
Yet, everything disappears, and we see that Reggie has now been submerged underwater, and Megumi is dragging him under. But he says its not from power, but from the weight of the two cars he added...
Megumi being that heavy, like an anchor pulling him down to the bottom.
We're then shown an image of the body of water he was in, which is the gymnasium's swimming pool beneath it.
Reggie asks himself if Megumi fled into his shadow and dismissed his domain, allowing the building to destroy the floor, falling into the pool.
I believe Megumi is so smart that he actually took that into account as well, as he assessed the gymnasium layout.
And here we learn two bits of pertinent info:
Megumi reveals that Reggie can't use his receipts when they're soaked. And Reggie reveals that Megumi let his technique recover after exhausting it with his domain, and that he didn't attack right away.
He presumes Megumi can't currently produce a shikigami anymore.
Megumi responds saying, "That's true." and "You do understand what comes next, don't you?
Reggie gets it, but assumes he could use one other than his dog, and that they wont be able to hit him hard enough, hoping he can counter.
I loved this walk around the pool.
they both took their time, as if not to apply any more energy into that part of this process than needed, especially knowing they must fight.
And in the blink of an eye, they fight hand to hand, one of the dopest scenes in this episode, - actually, I LOVE seeing Megumi fight in general - which, in this case was animated spectacularly.
Megumi deals the fatal blow, sending his dog past Reggie so fast it was almost undetectable.
Megumi says his dogs aren't weak enough to let "that" stop it. I presume he meant β¦ the power he consumed using his domain.
Reggie responds by saying, "Sorcerers are all liars, huh?"
And on that note, I ran into a comment online where someone mentioned the blatant juxtaposition of the episodes we just watched of Higuruma, and the ones we saw of Megumi.
Higuruma counted on the truth to bring justice, yet
Megumi just told a lie to do so.
I thought that was quite interesting.
And ... if what Reggie said was true, then it means Higuruma has also become a liar, contradicting everything he stands for...
As Reggie's blood stains the clear water in the pool, he realizes the method Megumi used to "get the better" of him.
But Megumi Explained that Nue cant fly with someone too long, saying he's struggled with that before.
This, to me, is yet another reminder of Megumi's growth. He's taking his previous lessons, mistakes, and understandings of all that's happened and editing his process for success in current battles.
He asks Reggie what his relationship is to Tengen.
Reggie then tells him that Tengen's claims about the Culling Game's goals were a bluff.
One would wonder, again, how true his comment is that "Sorcerers are all liars". If so, Megumi would need to question if what he's saying about Tengen is actually true, or if he's currently lying to get Megumi to believe it and take the wrong path.
Megumi wonders if Tengen and Kenjaku are secretly connected and lied about their goal but says Reggie's reaction makes it less likely.
Reggie then orders the Kogane to give Megumi his points.
Megumi naturally suspects that Reggie is plotting against him by giving over his points suddenly, yet Reggie insisted it's his final good deed. He said he's never been friends with Kenjaku (thank goodness), but he thinks it'll make the games interesting.
He then says something else to Megumi;
"Let fate toy with you a bit, and die a fool."
Of course, those words made me sad.
I don't wanna think about Megumi dying. Ever at all.
And so... he gained five more points for killing Reggie Star.
~*~*
We're suddenly sent to an image of Takaba sitting comfortably in a random home, drinking something from a mug like he's not in the middle of the Hunger Games of Jujutsu, and could be unalived at any moment. LOL
Of course, it's Iori, trying to blow him up again...
Takaba seems to be some indestructable wierd naked dude, right?
Bro sat at the table with the literal half-naked suit on, came out the window with normal attire, then was half-jnaked again in an instant. hahah!
Iori tries to punc him, then asks Takaba why he's covered in lotion.
omg this was so funny.
Takaba tells him "it could be sauce"... Sauce? Really?
My reaction was practically the same as Iori's except with laughing.
Iori complains that hes blown him up like five times and he somehow still has "so little" damage. LOL Understandably, after finding out that Reggie was dead, Iori calmly turns on his heels and decides to go home.
I thought this was pretty hilarious, because I cannot blame him. Why bother? Especially with Takaba. They've clearly met their matches, and who volunteers to die unless they're a little crazy...
(why did my mind just go straight to Satoru?π - I have an idea, but i'm sure i'll be ready, or not really ready to explain that in season 4... i mean, my take, regardless of Gege's so-called explanation, is that Satoru, based on the character we know that has been written throughout this story, practically gave himself over to Sukuna.π but I digress)...
... Takaba is said to be one of, if not THE most powerful characters in this story. Gege created a power for him that rivals even Satoru.
Apparently, anything he finds funny he can make reality.
Could you imagine? β¦ Life in the universe dependent on whether Takaba finds complete annihilation of all existence laughable and decides to make it real.
Yikes... I mean, where was he during Shibuya?
Maybe not awakened yet?
I assume so, since we also learned he doesn't know anything about his technique. And most everyone is safe for that reason. lol
Also ... there is a setback I can see, where he can't exactly fake finding something funny just to turn it into a real thing.
Anyway, after this short scene, we then cut to a clip of Ms. Remi, running away. From what or to where, we don't know, until we see Megumi apparently walking behind her.
This is wild to me.
Megumi was actually hunting this girl down, to kill her.
Do we remember what he said about bullying those guys in Jr. High, and why he did? Also... not getting obsessed with these guys' points?
And another thing...
Look, I don't care what anyone says, the undertone of this scene had me feeling some kinda way and I know I'm not the only one.
Why do his interactions with her always seem so intimate?
As an artist, I KNOW, with absolute certainty it's done on purpose.
And ... its not even just this scene.
It's been all of them between these two up to this point.
They were all "hit different" so to speak. On a deeper level.
I'm convinced some of it is insight into each of their characters and how they relate to the significant others in their lives, also touching on why their personalities are the way they are.
Remi actually admitted to much on her side as she ran.
Also, the conversation they had during him following her into the trap, as well as Megumi's resolve to save Tsumiki at any cost played into it.
And then we hear a voice. Tsumiki's voice. "Don't, Megumi."
This is so...
It screams intimacy on so many levels.
on top of everything else, the placement of his sword and the dog, her positioning on the ground, and what she said about the men in her life...
That said, I have a take that a lot of people don't agree with, which is totally fine by me.
But... I STRONGLY believe, that Megumi is 150% in love with Tsumiki.
Had they been allowed to get older and survive this whole ordeal, which... I still feel Megumi is alive... argue with your momma.
At best, right now, those two are childhood friends.
They have NO blood relation at all, and are not connected in any way outside of having spent a significant amount of crucial time together due to each of their very individual parents, who are both dead.
That said, I don't ship them. LOL
However, I do believe, canonically, he was head over heels for her.
That's why he's going to the lengths he is, the WAY he is, and that's why he heard her voice just now. She has touched Megumi in a way that no one ever has. And that is impossible for someone like him to deny.
And yes, he said "Shut up, damn sister." Because that's what they've been calling themselves based on the marriage of each of their parents.
But death did them part.
Megumi and Tsumiki were left with each other.
There are plenty of people who are close with their siblings on deep levels. But... and I've explained this before, way back when Todo asked Megumi what kind of girls he likes, the first person who came to mind for him was Tsumiki, and since then, he's made it pretty obvious based on HIS actions.
Anyway... We end with our beautiful, strong, brilliant and exhausted Megumi collapsed on the ground. And who can blame him after all of that.
A few fluffy white feathers fell down on him, and he was bathed in a brilliant bright light, sourced from none other than the person he'd been looking for in all of that chaos.
Angel.
This image.
I absolutely loved it.
And hated it.
All at the same time.
It broke my heart. (Again.)
The foreshadowing in this episode was amazing. And traumatizing for me. Almost too much. And I know I'm gonna have a hard time coping with what's to come. To the point I might not even want to see it.
Megumi was given his flowers in my opinion, and so many more people appreciate him now after seeing these episodes.
I love him. He is such a wonderful person.
That said... I'm excited to see Yuta tonight.
But most of all, I wanna see Choso again, and of course. Gojo.
(But only the good stuff...)
~*~*~*~
To anyone who's reading my reviews, thank you! π
See you in the next one! π₯°
P.S. I decided to end this review on this note, regardless of the fact that there was a little prelude to the introduction of some new heavy hitters, and YUTA fighting some of them in the next episode.
I'll talk about that in the next review!
The rules of the Culling Game are as follows:
*Special rule* When players enter the barrier, they are randomly dropped into one of 9 designated locations where they begin the game.
Players must enter a designated barrier (colony) within 19 days of awakening their cursed technique , Starting from 12am 10/31.
Players Breeching the first rule shall be stripped of their technique. Shoko deduced that "stripped" likely means death.
Non-Players become players upon entering a colony, with entry taken as a pledge to participate.
Players receive points by ending the life of another player. This has clearly been established, right now, as the only way to score.
Points are allotted based on the value the "Game Master" gives players. Sorcerers are 5pts and non are 1pt.
Players may spend 100 points to negotiate with the game master to add an additional rule to the game.
The Game Master must approve any additional rules unless it significantly hinders the continuation of the game.
If a player's score doesn't change for 19 days, their technique is removed.Β This, at this point, means they'll NEED to kill someone...
Players shall be able to view the Name, Points, Number of Rules Added, & Current Colony of other players.
Players are able to transfer a number of points of their choosing to other players.
Art Cred: All goes to MAPPA Studios, and Gege Akutami for JJK.
*Spoiler Alert*
Jujutsu Kaisen Season 3:
The Culling Game Pt.1, Episode 10: "Tokyo Colony No. 1 , Pt.4". β€
*Review Includes some spoilers for later episodes and events.*
MEGUMI. MY LOOOOVE!!π€β€π€β€π€
ANOTHER.FAN.GIRL.EPISODE
We enter this one with Reggie giving his spiel about the purpose of the continuation of the games, according to Kenjaku as he did in the previous episode.
Megumi gets to the bottom of why Remi is even involved, especially since she's not "that strong".
And of course, Reggie reveals he's using her.
She actually believes he'll protect her.
Megumi points out that per perception is naΓ―ve and stupid, (which, you know, this is like the Hunger Games of JJ, so though Megs is right, she was just trying hard not to dieπ¬). He then tells Reggie about the new rule that he's expecting to be added to allow for the transference of points...
And promptly demands he hands his over. π€
*I just love bully Megumi*
"Hand over your points."
Out of nowhere, some random flies out of one of the apartments, and attacks Megumi.
He promptly gets tossed off the balcony.
These moments are what I love to see when it comes to understanding Megumi's character. He didn't hesitate, didn't ponder or rationalize it, didn't consider whether the guy died, or would die... he didnt give a shit.
It was like a hiccup in the middle of his conversation that he resolved immediately.
Megumi turns to Remi and warns her...
"Don't let me see your face again."π¬
Girl...
if looks could kill...
His dog is hurt, and Reggie realizes Megumi's goal, assuming he wont kill anyone β¦ which I think is weird, since he just threw his boy out the window. lol
He then says, "If you dont fight to kill, you'll regret it once you're dead."
That comment made me remember something.
Do you recall that conversation between Gojo Sensei and Megs?
(i need to see him.π₯Ί)
"NO matter how many allies you have around you, when you die, you'll be alone."
"Dying to win, and risking death to win are completely different, Megumi."
I feel like he's now been risking death, because he's abandoned most regard for the "allies around him" and the reluctance he's displayed before. He now seems to fight the way he needs to for the results he requires.
In this case, his sister is his primary focus to gain those results.
Iori Hazenoki then comes from seemingly nowhere, using a powerful explosive attack with ... an eyeball?
He explodes a portion of the building, and Remi uses the distraction to attack Megumi using her hair as a type of weapon. He promptly grips it, pulling her through the smoke to yank her to the ground.
That attempt failed, so Reggie tosses a couple pieces of paper from his "dress", which appear to be receipts, one with the word "Oil" written on it, soaking Megumi with it... (I wanna use so many more images or clips from this scene, but I'm only allowed a set number for this post.π)
Unfortunately Reggie's attack, was used in combination with another from Iori, which caused an additional explosion.
And here, we learn that Reggie Starr currently possesses 41 points.
Megumi and Remi both barely escape that attack with his face being severely damaged, yet he still managed to saved that silly girl's life.
As Megumi stumbles away, π₯Ίhe steps over her body lying limp in the doorway. She stabs him to stop him, pleading with tears and snot for him to say he'll protect her.
Honestly, in this moment, knowing what she's been through, and the high probability of her being killed at any moment in these games, in this place, by any one of these people, I actually felt sorry for her. We kinda cant blame her for doing whatever she can to stay alive. After all, everyone else is.
Yet Megumi's not so lenient, which I cant blame HIM for either, displaying very little pity for her.
This is one of my favorite few panels in the manga, and I've anticipated the animation of this scene for forever. He tells her:
"Sometimes you run into them β scumbags like you who are all talk and no real action"
*God, he's SO HOT!*
HOW... EVER...
in the Manga, he says:
"So you're like that, huh? Trash who cares more about words than deeds"
Sometimes I'm okay with the transition from manga to anime. But this is one of those cases where I'd much rather see the diction verbatim per the original work.
However, if Gege ok'd this, meaning, he decided this was the best interpretation of what he originally wrote, I GUESS I'm all for it, but not really ... because it seems to change the narrative around his thoughts, and his general character. I mean, why put "sometimes you run into them" in here? I didn't quite get that...
But I digress...
Chizuru Hari, wielder of 28 points and the guy Megumi tossed off the balcony, shows up in this moment and the Kogane appears, letting them know a new rule had been added.
Rule #10: Players are able to transfer a number of points of their choosing to other players.
A that moment, Megumi attacks and a brawl ensues...
Babyyyy ... I LOVE this fight! π
The way Megumi saunters backward with his sword aimed at Chizuru... why did I love that so much?!
The fight continues into a room, where Megumi's frogs appear.
They grip him from his waist one direction, and Chizuru's waist from the opposite, causing Megumi to damn near rip this guy's head off of his shoulders with his bare hands.
Which, to me... is absolutely insane.
Could you imagine doing that to someone?
I can barely kill a bug. π
Megumi was actually attempting to pop this dude's head right off like a damn cork from a wine bottle.
And like... we've seen a lot of gruesome moments in this show. When I think of the worst of them, my mind usually goes directly to characters like Mahito, or Sukuna.
But when its Gojo or Megumi, somehow it just hits different.
These are supposed to be the "good guys" ... yet the fatality moves they pull on opponents seem all the more macabre...
Honestly, I'm thinking the reason for it is because they're the hero's of the story. The guys who are fighting for the innocents.
In my head, they're the ones who should be offering mercy kills, or just be overall less destructive. but they're absolutely not...
And frankly, in my opinion and experience, the "good" or "quiet" people, the ones people tend to think wont hurt anyone, usually don't because they suppress more power and strength than the flashy ones.
Anyway... they continue their fight, and Max Elephant pushes Chizuru, crashing him out the window.
Megumi grips Nue's feet to follow, then lets go to land on top of Chizuru, pounding him with the back of his sword in the head on the way down from the building... this was a trip.
And here... with NO hesitation whatsoever, no conversation nor a second thought ... the moment he landed and gained leverage, he swings his sword, plunging it into Chizuru's head.
"... no qualms..." he said, right?
I try to explain to some people who have commented on social media about Megumi, but don't understand who he is, because I feel like people get him confused.
He's a sweet person.
Compassionate and deeply emotional, and honestly I feel like he owes much of that to his sister.
That said, he's also an extremely "no nonsense" type of character.
As I've said before, he's been holding back.
A Lot.
I'd say mostly for Yuji's sake.
But also due to what Gojo talked to him about.
The reality is, he hasn't had to do this kind of thing to any person.
But he's powerful.
Both Gojo AND Sukuna know this better than anyone.
I mean, at the end of the day, he IS, after all, a Zen'in.
And here, looks an awful lot like his dad. Like Toji.
Like Maki.
Resolved.
At that moment, he mentioned needing more points in the future.
"don't lose your patience."
"believe in the others"
"don't obsess over these guys' points"
He seemed satisfied with where they'd gotten so far, doing what was necessary to help Tsumiki escape the games.
But he still had to talk himself down. Out of losing control.
The other clowns land, Iori (who's technique we now learned was using body parts to make bombs), and Reggie.
Megumi debates the possibility of using his domain, saying its "Incomplete", in that he's not able to trap his enemy inside it.
This is a trip to me because it speaks to the genius of Higuruma, having been able to learn the science of using his domain so quickly.
Iori flings another tooth/bomb at Megumi, and this guy shows up to deflect it.
He saves Megumi from the attack, and... God... the comic relief here is wild. LOL
We sit watching Megumi, and the others go through a plethora of expressions for a full 45 seconds, while the random claims he had no damage as blood sprays from his head.π
We can even hear the rustle of the paper from Reggie's outfit as he crosses his arms.
The guy is Fumihiko Takaba, and we learn he has zero points. haha!
Megumi decides to trust him for a minute since he saved him, and the others ask who he is.
He goes on a rant about his costume and his comedy, and the whole time I'm just trying to figure out if his costume is actually covering his whole body or if he's legitimately half naked in front of us. hahaha!
Meanwhile this drawing... π€£ Megumi's hair. lmao
Megumi decides Takaba is awufully similar to Todo...
And Takaba attacks Iori while Reggie determines he's super strong due to his energy output.
While Reggie is distracted, Megumi rises up from the shadow beneath him to attack.
Megumi then determined that Iori uses his body parts for bombs, and the Reverse Curse Technique (he's the 5th person we know to use this so far... I think...π€) to heal himself afterwards, while Takaba is way too close to his face, nodding in agreement. LOL
He calls his Kogane, checks the details, and notices the rule was added due to the 100 points Yuji obtained from Higuruma.
and guys...
That SMILE. π
... damn near ended me. even if it was behind the green screen.
Megumi then plans their exit, asking Takaba to steal Iori's points before killing him. Takaba agrees, promptly poking Iori where the sun dont shine (hahahah!) then literally kicking him into oblivion.
Megumi comes face to face with Reggie, finally in a one on one.
Reggie starts going in about Iori, and how he's dead, but Megumi tells him,
"Worry about yourself... I told you. I've already achieved my objective in this colony. So now I can fight for real. I won't hold back."
*Agh... he's so Haaaahtt! ...*
And I'm like... wait, what?
What do you mean you "wont hold back"?!?!?!
You've been "holding back" this entire time?!?!?!
When?~?~?π
Look, when I said he was holding back before, I was referring to all the episodes prior to this season. In THIS episode, I didn't feel like he was up to this point!
But baybeee... When I tell you he was...
Watching him fight is like... it's just... aaaah!!
Megumi didn't even have to call Nue this time. He stood there, completely still as that owl attacked Reggie as he ran for his life.
And BROOOO β¦ The music here: It was dramatic β¦ epic.
The visuals: the metal scaffolding being melted from the wall, falling over piece by piece as Reggie sprinted through it.
That animation is ASTONISHING.
If you haven't been, please pay closer attention. π
MAPPA truly deserves all theππ flowers for it.ππ
Megumi chases him down with a straight face, full on intent to completely obliterate this man.
No qualms, WHATSOEVER. (I feel like I'm driving that quote home so hard. LOL but I cant help it!)
Megumi is flying through the sky with what appears to be a level of confidence in his abilities and a determination we haven't seen in him until the start of these Games.
Anyone who says Megumi has no character development is either completely blind or considerably crazy.
look how handsome. π€
Elephant chased Reggie through the streets, then sprays a tidal wave of water at him, only for Reggie to materialize a surfboard to ride them through a building, where he generates a brick to break a window he flies through, then a pile of stuffed animals to break his fall.
Megumi pulls out all the stops to evade his attacks, then uses rabbit escape to toss a piece of a building at him, ending the chase.
We find out that Reggie is using the paper (receipts) that make up his clothing to manifest these items he used during battle.
Of course, Megumind figures that out. π€
He floats upwards through a shadow in the ground like he's Solo Leveling, looking legitimately scary but SOOOO cool.
Reggie then explains that though Megumi understands his technique, he's still injured, and at a disadvantage.
He also realizes the limitations of Megumi's animals, acknowledging that when they're injured he cant do much with them as when they're not... also presuming he cant generate large scale attacks.
Megumi says "I'll run" during this dialogue, ultimately luring Reggie to a gymnasium.
Of course he has a plan. But apparently so does Reggie.
He practically tosses two Mack trucks at Megumi, throwing him completely off, then hitting him with vases over the head.
I remember reading this, getting so frustrated with the damage Megumi endured, especially since Reggie wasn't scathed.
Fortunately he was able to draw his sword to avoid being killed.
Reggie uses his receipts to generate piles of junk seemingly taking the upper hand on Megumi, tossing him against a wall, explaining that his items are like his own shikigami.
He threatens to kill Megumi, but swiftly if he gives up his points.
Again, the pain these characters have to endure stresses me tf out.
Especially the ones I really love.
But Megumi has a phenomenal plan.
He mentions his barrier again. In this moment, again, my thoughts drift to what Gojo told him, and the complexities that Higuruma overcame to execute his.
Megumi explains that he hasn't been able to place an "artificial space of a different size over realty", indicating again the incompletion of his domain. However...
{{{ It's the pulse for me...π₯}}}
He was still able to deploy "Chimera Shadow Garden" seemingly with ease to Reggie's surprise..
He used the size of the gym to support the completion of his technique, which looks light years different compared to the first time we saw him use it in Episode 23.
I cannot WAIT to see him fight today!!
I am so excited to see those panels animated.
Megumi showed us just how great he is, and it's been deeply satisfying to me to see how many people, irl, literally apologize (lol) or eat the slander they've spoken against him for so long.
I don't think I'll ever understand why it was so hard for them to get it, especially with the knowledge that Gojo already told Megumi he was fully capable of beating even him, and the fact that Sukuna is obsessed with him.
Frankly, those two circumstances should tell people most of what they need to know in terms of Megumi's power.
But... that's where we ended last week.
~*~*~*~
I totally finished (most of) this review like a day after the episode... lol, because I was so geeked about it. But I hadn't completed Higuruma's, so I needed to post that one first. π
We experienced the techniques of six entirely different characters this episode, which made it super loaded and its only gonna get even MORE complex from here.
Enjoy the ride everyone!
~*~*~*~
To anyone who's reading my reviews, thank you! π
See you in the next one! π₯°
The rules of the Culling Game are as follows:
*Special rule* When players enter the barrier, they are randomly dropped into one of 9 designated locations where they begin the game.
Players must enter a designated barrier (colony) within 19 days of awakening their cursed technique , Starting from 12am 10/31.
Players Breeching the first rule shall be stripped of their technique. Shoko deduced that "stripped" likely means death.
Non-Players become players upon entering a colony, with entry taken as a pledge to participate.
Players receive points by ending the life of another player. This has clearly been established, right now, as the only way to score.
Points are allotted based on the value the "Game Master" gives players. Sorcerers are 5pts and non are 1pt.
Players may spend 100 points to negotiate with the game master to add an additional rule to the game.
The Game Master must approve any additional rules unless it significantly hinders the continuation of the game.
If a player's score doesn't change for 19 days, their technique is removed.Β This, at this point, means they'll NEED to kill someone...
Players shall be able to view the Name, Points, Number of Rules Added, & Current Colony of other players.
RECENTLY ADDED: Players are able to transfer a number of points of their choosing to other players.
Art Cred: All goes to MAPPA Studios, and Gege Akutami for JJK.
