antagonists / culling game - m!jjk x chubby fem!reader
He realizes you like it when he gets territorial (jealous) over you
featuring. kenjaku, mahito, naoya zenin, hiromi higuruma, fumihiko takaba, reggie star, ryu ishigori cw/tags (19+ Only | Minors DNI). established relationship, possessiveness, public claiming, jealousy as affection, banter, violence/injury to npc
Kenjaku
The vendor at the festival stall had been staring at your chest for a full ten seconds according to Kenjaku's count.
He slid behind you without a sound, one hand landing on the wide curve of your waist, fingers spreading until his pinky grazed the swell of your stomach, which made the vendor's eyes snapped up.
"She asked for two," Kenjaku said, pleasant as a paper cut. "You've been holding her change for quite a while now..."
The man handed it over fast, but Kenjaku noticed how through all of this, you didn't pull away from his grip.
Later, sitting on a bench with your knees touching, you bit into a skewer and tried to sound casual. "You didn't have to do that."
"Do what?"
"The whole..." You gestured vaguely at his hand, still resting on your thigh. "Looming thing."
"I don't mean to loom, I merely wanted to be... closer to you." He turned his head, and his eyes studied your face. "Your heartbeat doubled when I touched you in front of him, in fact it's still elevated now. That's a first, all considering."
Since he took over Geto's body, that is. You knew that's what he meant.
"It's hot outside."
"It's November."
You shoved his shoulder, but he barely moved from your effort.
"Here's what I think," he said, taking the skewer from your hand and biting the last piece off it without breaking eye contact. "I think, despite the complications of our predicament, you like when I make it obvious. When I put these hands on you where people can see and make it clear that the person they're staring at already has something behind her that they cannot begin to comprehend."
"You're so full of yourself."
"I've had many selves, that's rather the point." He placed the empty skewer down and laced his fingers through yours. "Go on, tell me I'm wrong."
You didn't.
He squeezed once, satisfied in a way that had nothing to do with the love this body held for you, and everything to do with his ownership of you.
"That's what I thought."
Mahito
The curse user across the alley had been talking to you, leaning closer, one hand reaching out to brush your arm, and Mahito materialized between you so fast the air around him popped.
"Oops." He grabbed the man's outstretched wrist and bent it sideways with a wet crack. "That was going somewhere I didn't like."
The curse user hit the ground screaming. You grabbed Mahito's sleeve and yanked. "He was asking for directions moron!"
"Was he?" Mahito tilted his head, watching the man crawl. "Rude of him to get so close to your body though."
"Mahito."
"What?" He spun to face you, grinning with every tooth he owned, and his eyes dropped to your hand still fisted in his shirt. "You haven't let go."
Your fingers opened. He caught them before they fell.
"You always do this," he said, pressing your hand to his cheek. "You yell at me, but your soul does something really pretty when I chase people off. It gets all knotted up, tight, like it's trying to hold onto the feeling."
"You're projecting."
"No, I can just see the shape of your soul whenever I touch you." He dropped your hand and move into a crouch so he was looking up at you, chin propped on his fist. "Plus your face gets all warm and your pupils are huge."
You snapped your gaze away from him.
"Do it again," he said, standing so fast he was nose to nose with you before you could step back. His palms landed on your hips, squeezing the plush give of them, and he pulled you forward. "Walk down the street with me and wait for someone to look at you too long. I want to see if your soul does the thing again."
"So what? You can mess another person up? Jesus you're unhinged."
"Obviously." He laced his arm through yours and started walking like nothing had happened. "But you like it. And I like that you like it. So really, everyone wins."
Behind you, the curse user was still on the ground screaming for help.
Neither of you looked back.
Naoya Zenin
You made the mistake of talking to an old classmate at the grocery store.
That was it. A five-minute conversation in the produce aisle with a guy you hadn't seen since high school, and Naoya had watched the entire thing from the end of the row with a basket in his hand and murder on his face.
He didn't interrupt. That should have been your first warning.
The second you got in the car, he slammed his door and sat there, engine off, both hands on the wheel.
"So who was that."
"Kenji. From school. I told you about him once."
"So then why did he put his hand on your shoulder and lean in like the two of you were something more."
"He was showing me a picture of his dog, Naoya."
"On his phone, six inches from your face, while looking at your mouth?" He turned the key so hard the engine snarled. "I'm not stupid."
"For fucks--Nobody said you were stupid. I said he has a dog."
He pulled out of the parking lot too fast, one hand dropping from the wheel to land on your thigh, gripping the thick of it through your skirt.
You should have been annoyed. You were annoyed. But your hand came down on top of his and stayed, and the tension in his shoulders dropped.
He caught it before you could take it back.
"Oh, you're not slick." He squeezed once, hard enough to feel. "You like this. You like when I get pissed about it."
"I like when you stop talking."
"Too bad. You're stuck with me." He turned a corner without signaling and pulled your hand up to his mouth, biting the knuckle of your ring finger with zero tenderness. "Next time your little friend wants to show you pictures, he can do it from across the room. And you can tell him I said that."
"I'm not telling him shit."
"Fine. Then I will."
He meant it. That was the worst part. Well, that, and the fact that your pulse was hammering under his grip and you both knew exactly why.
Hiromi Higuruma
It happened at the courthouse, of all places.
A younger attorney had stopped you in the lobby, standing too close, one hand on the wall beside your head while he explained legal procedures that you were all too familiar with, as if trying to impress you. You were mid-rejection when Higuruma came through the glass doors, coffees in hand, and went completely still.
He didn't shout. He walked over, positioned himself at your side, and addressed the man without blinking.
"Counselor. She looks uncomfortable. Step back please."
"We were just talking, Higuruma."
"You were just crowding her. There's a difference. I shouldn't have to explain what harassment is to someone who passed the bar."
The attorney left. Higuruma handed you your coffee.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine. He was just being annoying." You took a sip and watched him over the rim. His jaw was still tight, a muscle twitching near his ear. "You're mad."
"I'm not mad."
"Hiromi, your vein is doing the thing," you pointed to his neck.
He exhaled hard through his nose and pressed two fingers to his temple. "I... didn't like the way he positioned himself. Boxing someone against a wall during a conversation is a tactic, not an accident. He knew what he was doing."
You bumped your shoulder into his arm as you started walking toward the elevator. "Thank you~"
He glanced down, catching the change of tone your voice and slowed his stride. His eyes narrowed as though a witness said something that shifted a whole case.
"You're... smiling?"
"Am I not allowed to smile?"
"You're smiling because I told him off." He said it like he was reading evidence into the record.
"Oooor maybe I just think you look good when you're being protective," you said, and jabbed the elevator button.
The doors opened. He followed you in, stood too close on purpose, and spoke to the ceiling.
"I'm not protective. I just have strong opinions about professional conduct."
"Sure, counselor."
His hand found the small of your back as the doors closed. He kept his eyes forward, but you felt his fingers press into you.
He didn't move his hand until you reached your floor.
Fumihiko Takaba
He'd been bombing on stage for twelve straight minutes, and he was loving every second of it.
You were at a back table nursing a drink, used to this by now, clapping after every punchline even when the rest of the room sat in painful silence. A guy two seats over had been trying to get your attention for the last three jokes, sliding closer each time, and you kept shifting your chair away without making a scene.
Then the guy put his arm across the back of your chair, and Takaba stopped mid-punchline.
The audience, what little there was, looked confused. Takaba squinted past the stage lights, microphone still raised, and pointed directly at the man touching your chair.
"Hey. Buddy. Yeah, you. That's my girlfriend."
The guy pulled his arm back. The room got very quiet.
"No, no, don't be shy now, you were real confident ten seconds ago." Takaba hopped off the stage, mic still in hand, weaving through tables like he'd done this a hundred times. "I saw the whole thing from up there. The scooting. The arm. Very smooth. Very 2003 movie theater."
"Man, I didn't know she was with someone." the guy tried to defend himself.
"She's with the guy on stage. The one with the microphone. Who you're watching perform. While hitting on his girl." He turned to the remaining audience. "Is this not material? I feel like this is material."
Someone in the back laughed. Takaba beamed.
He dropped into the chair on your other side, threw his arm around your shoulders, and kissed your temple so hard it made a sound. "You good?"
"You just abandoned your set."
"I was dying up there anyway. This is way better." He looked at you and his grin softened when he saw your face, although his eyes immediately widened in realization. "Wait--Are you flustered right now?"
"What?! N-No."
"You are!! You're pressing your lips together so you won't smile~" He poked your cheek. "You liked that. You liked me calling you my girlfriend into a microphone in front of strangers."
"You're so embarrassing."
"Yet that never stopped you from coming to all my shows."
He had you there.
He huddled you closer next to him and squeezed, still grinning, entirely too pleased with himself.
"This might just be the best set I've ever done."
Reggie Star
You were organizing receipts for him at the hotel base when one of the newer recruits decided to get comfortable.
The guy had leaned against the table where you were working, arms folded and let out a low whistle as his eyes traveling down to your hips where your shirt had ridden up.
Reggie was across the room going over point tallies with Hazenoki, and he didn't look up. He just peeled a receipt off his chest and held it between two fingers.
"Hari," he called, still not looking. "How many points is that one worth again?"
Chizuru glanced at the recruit. "Zero. He just got here."
"Mm. Thought so." Reggie finally looked up, with a smile on his face. "Hey, new guy. You know what I do with things that have no value?"
The recruit straightened up, realizing the mistake he made. "I-I-I was just talking to her!"
"You weren't talking. Your mouth was closed but your eyes were very open. That's not a conversation, that's appraisal." Reggie crossed the room and didn't stop until he was close enough for the recruit to read the kanji tattooed on his arm. "And she is not up for grabs."
The recruit left. Reggie watched him go, then turned to you. You had your head down, sorting papers, deliberately not looking at him.
He sat beside you, arms folded on the table, chin resting on them. "Your ears are heating up."
"No they aren't."
He chuckled, his eyes rolling subtly. "A sorcerer is nothing but a con artist, and you're running the worst con I've ever seen." He reached over and flicked the receipt you were holding out of your fingers. "You liked that, didn't you?"
"I liked the quiet. Which you're now ruining."
"You liked that I walked over here. You liked that I said you're not up for grabs... and you liked the part where he left and I stayed ♥" He tilted his head, grinning at you.
"I use people, sweetheart. It's what I do. But nobody gets to use their eyes on you like that unless I decide it's part of the strategy."
You looked away but he caught your chin and turned it back.
"Stop pretending you don't want this, and I'll keep making sure every person in this building knows who you belong to." He tapped your nose with one finger before standing up. "Stew on that for a bit dear and get back to me with your answer later."
Ryu Ishigori
He took you to a bakery because he said he wanted something sweet.
You were standing at the counter when the guy behind the register started flirting with you. Leaning forward, asking if you came here often, telling you that you had a nice smile while his eyes dropped well below your face. Ryu was behind you studying the display case, and you assumed he wasn't paying attention.
But he was.
He stepped in front of you and placed one hand flat on the counter, and the glass case rattled from the cursed energy that pulsed off him, making the cashier flinch.
"She wants the strawberry shortcake," Ryu said. His voice was unhurried, the fur trim of his jacket brushing your shoulder as his frame eclipsed you from view. "And I want you to ring it up without looking at anything except the register."
The cashier rang it up instantly, keeping his head down.
Outside, you sat on a bench with the cake box on your lap while Ryu dropped down next to you, one arm slung across the backrest behind your head.
"You didn't have to scare the guy."
"Scare him?" Ryu looked at you like you'd just told a joke "That wasn't scary. Scary is what I do to people who can actually fight back."
"He was just being... friendly." you tried to diffuse the conversation, though it wasn't effective.
"He was being greedy, reaching for a plate that wasn't his." He took the cake box from your lap, opened it, and broke off a piece of the shortcake with his fingers. He held it out to you and waited. "My life has been eighty percent full. Good fights, good meals, fine company. But there was always something missing."
You took the bite from his hand, and his thumb grazed your lower lip and stayed there.
"You're the dessert I've been looking for," he said, plain as fact. "And I don't share what fills me up."
He broke off his own piece and ate it, chewing slowly, staring straight ahead. His arm dropped from the backrest onto your shoulders and pulled until you were flush against him.
"Sweet," he said, but you didn't know if he meant the cake.
a/n. yes, i continued that kenjaku concept from the last one. and yes, i'm posting this because i still need to make more dividers for other series/groups.
