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madamechrissy · 3 days ago

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Losing Control Now

Pairings: Mobster Gojo x bartender F!reader

Summary: Something about running the Gojo mafia just makes Satoru so bored. Boring, boring boring. Sure, he loves money, he loves women, he loves snorting snowy powder off their bodies. He loves the power that comes from it- but he's just bored. That is, until he stumbles upon you, the brand new bartender that makes him pause, falter, and then soon he becomes obsessed, with knowing you, in every single way. Paying off your mom's debts and working two jobs, you're exhausted, but something about this pretty Mob boy just makes you... excited again. How far in are you, and how far is Satoru in the mafia world? All he knows, is he must have you.

CW: Sexual tension, eventually explicit sex, mafia themes, drug themes, violence, obsessed ass whipped ass Satoru Gojo, oral sex, possessive Gojo, drug use and drug dealing - lowkey Yandere fkn Gojo hehe. Light angst, some fluff, heavy smut, lots of teasing. This part- Making out, Gojo snorting coke off bodies, touching, teasing, and masturbation (phone sex) -WC this part- 7.2k wc

That Gojo art is by michi_ia on X!!! based on Satoru from Pour it Up (Sukuna's story) You can read it alone! Reblogs/comments so appreciated if you enjoyy!

Playlist- Part two (coming soon) (Based on Pretty Boy Mafia Gojo)

part one

If there was one thought running through the pretty head of Satoru Gojo’s, it’s not -sexy- the strippers dancing all around them. It’s not- thrilling- speaking of doing runs and deals. It’s not- addictive- even as he’s snorting coke off a pretty stripper’s thigh. It’s not- flattering even as he can clearly feel her heat, see her dilated eyes, the way she bites her lip.

Sure, he loves women.

Sure, he loves coke.

Sure, he loves his lifestyle, a mostly carefree mafia King, who lets people do most of the work for him. His best friend Suguru, his right hand man Sukuna, and his other partner Toji, the four of them ran this city. But it’s not- power that runs through Gojo’s head, though he enjoys that too.

The thought constantly in Satoru Gojo’s mind is…

Boring.

He leans back even now, sighing as the coke hits his nostrils, then he laps up that residue with a quick kiss with his pouty lips, the stripper gasps just a bit, and he touches her thigh, seeing a glimmering of slick from just that. Gojo loves to fuck, especially when it means nothing, when he can just let go and feel whatever he needs to in that moment.

But, even that, as he brushes his thumb across it, watching the pretty girl’s head fall to the side, her hips arch, even that has become…

Boring.

This meeting is boring, as he now smiles and winks at her, and she blushes, giggling and running to grab him another drink. His friends, they’re so…

Boring.

Business this, their territory that, what the Kamo family is doing, what the fucked ass Zenin are up to. What they need to do in order to produce enough to keep clientele satisfied. Who owes who money, who needs a lesson, and who needs protection- Satoru is happy to protect his town, his city, what is his as the top mafia family there is- or was.

The Gojo family.

But, as head of it now, it’s the last thing he really wants, in fact he has everything a man could want, endless amounts of money, loyal friends, women, pure cocaine that could help him forget the gnawing feeling deep inside. What is it? He tries not to think, as he crosses his ankle over his knee in his three piece suit, tugging at his skinny black tie, contemplating Sukuna’s words.

“The Zenin are more on the alert than ever.” He grumbles, sighing a bit as a girl hands him a drink, but he refrains from going near any of them really, hopelessly whipped by his new girlfriend. Satoru smirks a bit, earning Sukuna’s eye roll. “Out with it, Gojo.”

“You’re so whipped it’s really cute.” Sukuna’s jaw locks, standing, Satoru’s maniacally giggling, as Suguru and Toji sigh.

“Whipped!?”

“Completely, but I like this side of you. All soft-” Sukuna snatches Satoru up by his collar, earning Satoru’s glinting grin under red lights. “Aw, what’s wrong buddy?”

“It’s not being whipped it’s-”

“Whipped.” Toji earns Sukuna’s ire, as Suguru sighs and shakes his raven haired head, brushing it back a bit. “Sorry, but the kid’s right.”

Gojo snorts at Toji, rolling his pretty blue eyes. “A kid? I’m twenty seven, how is that a kid, old man.”

“Old man, the fuck?” Toji’s jaw locks, scar stretching over his lip, Satoru just smirks.

“Will you all focus?” Suguru asks with a sigh, smiling and lapping some salt off a stripper’s chest, before downing his shot, moaning as he gulps it.

“It’s boring. Ah, thanks, sweets.” Satoru smiles as the dancer hands him a drink now, and he sips it, wincing. “Ugh, not sweet enough.”

Satoru stands, and Sukuna raises a brow. “The fuck, you need even fruitier of a drink? Such a lil bitch drink already.”

“Fuck you, I like sweet things.” Satoru smiles and tilts the stripper’s chin up, watching a blush decorate her cheeks as he giggles. “I’ll go grab one, let you all keep being boring.”

“Oh whatever, Satoru.” He hears as he saunters off, determined to get a much sugarier concoction, as he steps through the club, familiar scenes unfolding, the glimmering lights bouncing off semi-naked bodies. Men with their wallets emptied, girls dealing coke baggies with bottles.

It was surely one of the places he enjoyed, it served as such a good front, along with the Casino he and Suguru ran, and many, many other ventures. A life constantly bustling from place to place, in the back of limos, women everywhere, but something yet again, even with the thrumming music of this club, just seems so boring.

That is, until he sees this girl, gorgeous but she doesn’t quite fit in, despite a banging body in fishnets that glimmer with little gems under the black lights, black booty shorts that showed much of those thighs, and a sexy little boostier. The lace cupping her breasts alone makes his cock twitch, just that!? A man who has naked women in front of him constantly.

But nothing is quite like when his blue eyes trail up her chest, past those pretty titties pushed up, to her face, lit up under the flashing reflections above. She’s biting her lower lip, concentrating, brows together as just a strand of hair falls out of it’s high pony tail, and she blows it away, an adorable little gesture. Her little hands are pouring bottles, as she measures this drink like a damn chemist.

But when her eyes catch his?

When your eyes catch his?

Sparkling and open, just a little nervous as you eye him, there’s something that sparks then, this…

He’s not bored.

Not at all.

You see him, this tall statuesque man, brightly glowing damn near with silvery white hair, but his eyes even in the dark, smoky club are so intense it makes you breathless. And he’s looking right at you, a bright pink drink in one of his giant hands, lithe body frozen just for a moment before he moves. You wait with bated breath as he does, as he steps closer, shooting you a little smirk.

His eyes glint with something deep- at first he seemed detached when you’d seen him, but now, swirling storms for eyes, model cheekbones even more accentuated as he smiles at you. Plump, glossy lips and long snowy lashes complete the prettiest face you’ve ever seen, perhaps even prettier than a painting, a silly thing for a bartender to think.

He leans with his elbows on the marble bar, tilting his head, blue eyes drinking you in, and you feel it like a physical touch. “You’re new, aren’t you?”

“How do you know?” You manage to murmur, trying to be teasing, but his intensity makes your breath catch.

“I’d remember you. I’m sure.” His words like some sultry purr, as his eyes caress your body, to the point you almost moan.

Fuck, who is he?

“I am new.” You say softly, he hands you his glass then, for a brief moment your fingers brush against each other, and Satoru feels this shock, like static, as he keeps his fingers over yours.

He vividly pictures it then, having you, but fuck not having you… he wanted to have you in every fucking way. Feral from fingers brushing when he just had a stripper all over him. His lips part as he sees your cheeks heat up, your tentative and sweet little smile, while lights dance across your skin, the thrumming of music fading to the background.

It’s like some fucking movie, in slow motion, as your smile melts him. “How about you make me a drink, huh sweetheart? Ya any good at it?”

“How do you like it… Mr…”

“Gojo.” You blink in recognition, everyone knows the Gojo family, though heavy in crime, they protect people, they keep their town safe. They’re insanely powerful, and you can feel his power, as he shrugs a broad shoulder, snowy lashes lowering over his gaze.

“Mr. Gojo…”

“And you are?” When you say your name, he repeats it, softly, and you’ve never fucking heard anything better. “Well, let’s see what you can make, pretty bartender.”

Pretty.

The word is used often, but from him? Your tummy is full of rapidly flapping wings of several butterflies. You clear your throat a bit, taking the glass now. “What kind of drink, Mr. Gojo?”

“Something sweet… sweet as… I bet you taste.” You barely hear the words at the end, and you blink in confusion.

“Huh?”

“Huh?” He grins then, throwing his head back, resting a hip on the bar as he studies you harder. “You’re cute.”

“Cute, hmm.” He just grins, as you make his drink, mixing every sweet concoction you know, he sips it then, moaning and fluttering his lashes.

“Perfect.”

“You’re special, the first drink I made.”

Satoru leans far too close over that bar, as he eyes you, and he knows then, he has to fucking have you. Fuck he’d not even let you leave his damn bed, keep you pinned under him, picturing how sweet you must taste, god how you even smell when he inhales near you is addictive.

“Are you… sniffing me, Mr. Gojo?”

He smirks a bit, but inwardly?

God you smell good.

“Perfume? Is it… Versace bright Crystal?”

“How would you know that?” He’s just grinning, sipping the drink with the thin little black straw, as you wonder just… who is he?

“I’ll see you around, sweets, hmm?” You nod curiously, narrowing your eyes just a bit, sighing as he walks away, you don’t see him when he eyes you again, before stepping back into the velvet red of the VIP room.

“Took you long enough.” Toji grumbles, and Satoru looks at Sukuna then, one question in his mind, along with one thought.

The boredom?

Gone.

“Who’s the new girl?” Sukuna turns towards him, a smirk on his face, which immediately changes as his girlfriend steps in right next to Satoru, he swears Sukuna has heart eyes. Satoru looks at her as she smiles brightly, giving him a hug first, making Satoru grin at Sukuna when he scowls.

“Satoru!”

“Hey pookie how are you?” He smiles and pats her head. Satoru and Sukuna's girl had become close. “How's it living with this psycho?”

“She loves it.” Sukuna huffs and drags her away, earning the soft laughter of everyone in the room as she's sat right on his lap, brushing his hair back affectionately. Strong, tough, big ass Sukuna was just a little kitten for her. “Tell him about the new girl, brat.”

“Oh!” She repeats the name, your name, and Satoru brightens up. Sipping the sweet drink you concocted and exhaling at how good it is. “She's a friend from way back, she got into… a hard situation. So Kuna hired her because he's sweet.”

“Tch.” He glares at her as she giggles, and suddenly Satoru wonders even more about you. What situation? What did you need it for? “You like her huh?”

“Just curious, she seems…” Different, exciting, beautiful sure but there was something so intriguing, especially about her touch.

“Pretty?” Toji says with a grin, and Satoru sighs.

“Duh, just curious… she makes the sweetest drink I've ever had.”

“The way to Satoru’s heart.” Suguru says with a chuckle. Satoru comes back to sit next to him, shaking his head when a girl comes to him

“No thanks, love.” The room collectively blinks at him now, as Satorus pretty eyes rest on Sukuna’s girl, a dancer herself… well somewhat. It's not like Sukuna let's her leave his sight much. “She's your friend?”

“Yes from high school, she left and did her own thing but…” She bites her lower lip. “Um, her mom got into some… bad debts with people, gambling.”

“Oh, she's like Toji.” Sukuna mutters, earning a middle finger from the gruff man, even as he's kissing up a girl's neck.

“Fuck off.” He grumbles, and Satoru would laugh, but he's even more intrigued. “Paid my debts, shithead.”

“Shithead!?”

“So she came to help?” Satoru asks her, and she nods, smiling just a little sadly.

“Her mom left her with a house about to get foreclosed. And debt with… I can't get into too much more. But she works full time and it's only enough for bills, not the debt.”

“So she's working like what, 60 plus hours?” Satoru asks, and she nods with a frown.

“I'm hoping here she'll make enough to get it settled? Kuna may help negotiate-”

“Who is it?”

“Why so curious?” She asks, as her eyes light up. “Oh… you like her.”

“I just… am a curious boy mmkay pookie?” She giggles and then Suguru snorts in laughter next to Satoru.

“He's blushing.”

“Am not! Just… something about her seemed… different. I was curious. Is she…”

“Single? Satoru Gojo is asking that?” Toji says then, and Satoru’s eyes narrow.

“Shut it old man.”

Toji’s jaw tenses. “I swear to-”

“Ask her yourself, hmm?” Sukunas girl says, Satoru sighs, because for the first time ever he feels a little…

Nervous?

Satoru Gojo is nervous, hands sweaty, blushing over you.

Who are you?

“I mean can we… get her in the next meeting?”

“Sure lover boy.” Sukuna says with a chuckle. “Want her on your lap?”

“Maybe. Yes.” The room's atmosphere is just a little lighter, as they finish and Satoru finally heads out for the night, turning a corner and bumping right into you, causing you to almost fall, but he catches you with those big hands, steadying you carefully.

“I'm so sorry, Mr. Gojo.” You murmur softly, god your voice is pretty, it's soft and sensual. He could listen to it all day- wildly wondering how it sounds when you’d cry out his name, to the point he’s just standing there for a moment, as your eyes meet, and he notices now, you have dark circles under them. It seems whatever concealer you had faded by now.

“You headed home?” He asks, seeing you’re now wearing a jacket over that bustier, and you nod a bit, hiding a yawn.

“Yeah, I have to work at like eight am.”

Gojo blinks now, peering at his silver Rolex. “It’s like two am, what sleep are you gonna get?”

“A couple hours I hope.” Satoru holds the door open for you now, and you give him another pretty smile.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, I’ll walk you to your car, unless you want big Jim to.” He points to a giant broad shouldered man, you giggle, looking back at Gojo, who has a little mischievous glow in his eyes now.

“I’ll let you walk me, thank you.” He slings his jacket over a shoulder, holding it with one finger, the other in his pocket, as the breeze gently blows around the two of you in the quiet night.

“How many nights are you working?” He asks, you tilt your head a bit as you come to your car, a little one good on gas, really the only reason you got it.

“I’ll be working Thursday, Friday and Saturday. Do you come here often?” Satoru snorts now, leaning down over you, free hand against your car as he leans, making your heart hammer in your chest at the proximity, eying his glossy lips.

“That a pick up line, sweets?”

“What!? Oh shit… it sounded like one!?” You cover your face in embarrassment, and he chuckles now.

“Teasing you is all. I do come here a lot, I know who I’ll be getting drinks from then. That was the best one I’ve had.”

“What no way!” He just grins as you lower your hands, a little bit of your hair falling out of your pony tail again, he brushes it away casually, tucking it behind your ear, his cool fingertips making your skin tingle. He watches the hitch of your breath, feels the heat of your cheek as you look at him, wide eyed.

“You kept blowing it out of the way.” He teases softly, fingers lingering on your cheek for just a moment.

“You noticed that?” You ask softly, feeling your heart thrumming with excitement despite your exhaustion.

“Noticed you also bite your lip too much.” He brushes a thumb over it briefly, shooting desire hot through your tummy.

You hadn’t even thought of sex or intimacy, as tired as you have been, working full time and taking overtime constantly, finally having this job as well, you haven’t even considered your needs. So tired you barely get horny, but something about this… Mr. Gojo, it’s making you ache to yank him by that tie, pull him in.

Do you even remember how to be seductive?

Why are you thinking like this?

“Do I?” You ask, all you manage really, and he nods just a bit, dying to kiss the indentations on your plump lower lip.

“Sure you’re okay to drive? I have a driver.”

“Oh no I’m good, I didn't have a drink or anything. But thank you, I hope… I hope I see you again… um to make more drinks?”

You’re cute.

Fuck you’re cute.

“You’ll see me around.” He assures you, opening the door then, and you exhale a bit, sliding into your seat and starting the car. “Have a good night, bartender.”

“Bartender huh?” He winks and you wave just a bit, leaving Satoru whistling just a bit, shaking his head, unable to figure out just what this is, this feeling, as Suguru walks out, yawning and stretching.

“Oh shit, that look.”

“What look?” He asks, as they walk to their sleek black car, the driver ready holding the door open for them.

“That obsessive Satoru look.”

“Oh psh.” He rolls his pretty blue eyes, but Suguru just chuckles.

“She is pretty.”

Satoru scowls at his best friend now, who’s just smirking at him. “Don’t even think about it.”

“That’s what I meant.”

“I’m not… obsessive.”

“Mmm, alright Satoru.” He pats Satoru’s shoulder as he looks at his phone now, typing in your name casually of course- to find your socials, and any pictures of you he can save.

******

After busting your ass at your normal 9 to 5, you ran your mom’s interest payment to the intimidating Mei Mei, she’s smiling cooly, so fucking fake it makes your skin crawl, raising a brow under her light blue hair as she sees the amount. “Oh, darling, that's double, hmm?”

“I had the extra, took another job.” You yawn as you peek at your phone, realizing you have to get ready for the bar soon.

“I see, should I charge you more for each installment, since you’re doing so well now?” You blink now, shaking your head and earning her soft laugh, as she stands, tall and curvaceous, hips swaying as she tilts your chin up, long nails brushing your skin. “I was kidding, that face!”

“I’m sorry, Miss Mei. I swear I’ll try to do double but could we keep to the current please?” She nods a bit then, smiling and sauntering back to her desk, sitting on it and crossing her leg, blue dress riding up just a bit.

“I don’t mind helping, as long as you keep paying. You sure are a lot better than your mother. How is she?”

Your jaw sets. The moment your mother left town, and left you with all this debt after begging you to come back, under false pretenses, your life had become an endless cycle of pure work. Work, work, work, and nothing else, that was it.

Work. Bills. Interest.

Work, more work, more interest.

The only break had been meeting him, at the bar, Mr. Gojo.

“Smiling, darling?” You clear your throat, shaking your head.

“Just happy I’m getting this done.”

“That’s the spirit, see you next week.” She now hops down, dismissing you with a little wave of her fingers, as you hurriedly leave, leaning against the door of the fancy building as you damn near feel sick, sighing and trying to gather yourself.

You want to resent your mother, want to hate her even, but you don’t have it in you. There’s just one thing on your mind, work, work, and work. The handsome man at the bar may be a beautiful distraction, but he’d surely just stay that, the little bit of serotonin you need.

******

“On your lap?” You blink a bit, as Satoru’s grinning, leaning over the bar later that night, looking far too sexy in that pinstripe suit of his.

“So usually the strippers do, but I’d really like you too, and you will make more than you do in an hour. How much do you usually make?” You murmur a number, and he hands you hundreds instead.

“You can’t!”

“I’m taking your work time, I damn well will. Here, take it sweets.” You sigh, stepping out from behind the bar, crossing your arms under your breasts and looking up at him.

“I just, sit on your lap?”

“Well, you may have to… let me snort coke off you?” You’re a blushing mess now, and he’s laughing softly, brushing your hair back just a bit. “Just a little coke.”

“You’re kind of insane, Mr. Gojo.”

“I’ve been told. Come on, what do you say?”

So… that’s how you ended up here, in the velvety red VIP room, Toji, Sukuna, Suguru and Satoru of course are there, you see your friend on Sukuna’s lap, the lifesaver who got you this job, who waves from where she’s on his lap. You smile nervously, as Satoru sits, patting his thigh then.

“C’mon, got a seat right here.” He says with a wink, and the next few minutes you’re finding it impossible to focus.

You can feel it, Satoru’s muscled thigh against your heat, pussy throbbing around nothing at this proximity, as Sukuna, Suguru and Toji all talk amongst themselves, Toji and Suguru have stripper’s on their laps, Sukuna has your friend- his girl- on his. And you’re right here, with Satoru’s big hand against your waist, fingers wrapping around the gentle curve of it.

You try to bite back a moan at just how good it feels, and you embarrassingly wonder if he can tell, if he can feel how wet you are, surely not you hope. He’s calmly talking as he shifts his thigh just a bit, and you have to hold in your gasp, your booty shorts aren’t enough of a damn barrier, surely, not for how his thigh presses up for a moment.

“You good, sweetheart?” He murmurs to you softly, and you turn your attention to him, blinking just a bit, lips parted.

“Huh?” Is all you manage, his full lips tilt up just a bit as he tilts his head, his other hand now on your fishnet clad thigh.

“Lots of heavy topics, too much?” He’s so sweet you think, as if the problem isn’t you’re soaking your shorts, and no you didn’t even have panties on to try to help whatsoever, in such a hurry you hadn’t washed any and said fuck it.

Big mistake.

“Oh, a little bit.” You are such a liar, but what do you say? Yes, Satoru, your thigh is making me want to grind on it, to make myself cum like some pathetic-

“Try to tone 'em out, it’s what I do.” He says with a wink, and you laugh softly, breathless, as if you’d heard a word any of them said, no… your pulse is racing too loudly to hear them.

“Got it, Mr. Gojo.” He takes the little baggie one of the strippers has then, brushing your hair back off your shoulder, watching goosebumps raise across your neck, your collar bone so inviting he wants to bury his face against it.

“The Zenin are now a bigger issue than ever, they perceive that Sukuna literally took Naoya’s girl and his kid.” You frown a bit, looking over at Sukuna, who’s gripping his girl so tightly, scowling, while Toji speaks. “I know it’s not that way, but it’s what we’re up against.”

“So we fucking take em all out.” Sukuna throws back a shot, and his girl shakes her head.

“Kuna…”

“Don’t you fuckin’ Kuna me.”

“They’re cute.” Satoru murmurs, you nod in agreement, as you watch her make this giant man melt.

“They are.”

“Is right here alright?” His thumb brushes your collarbone, and you flush nervously, eyes lowering shyly as you nod. “Never done anything like this, hmm?’

“No, not at all.” You look around as the other men are doing so, however, and tilt your neck just a bit. “But I trust you.”

“Yeah?” He murmurs, you exhale, when he taps some of the ivory powder across your skin. “Stay still for me, pretty?”

Pretty.

God when he calls you pretty.

Your heart pounds out of its chest damn near when he’s gently lining it up, one hand gently brushing up your back as he leans over with a rolled one hundred, snorting it right off your skin. Something about it, snorting coke off your body, makes Satoru even harder than he already was, especially when he hears the softest of whimpers from your pretty throat.

“Fuck…” He wonders if he says it out loud, but you don't respond, still as he had commanded you to be, making him wonder wildly just how much you’d listen.

If he told you to hold these sexy thighs open, if he told you to bend over and arch your ass, if he said get on your knees. Would you obey him?

Once the powder is up his nose, his snowy lashes flutter shut, letting it run through his system, and he moans just ever so softly, before lapping up the residue from your throat. Your hand grips his hair unconsciously, without even thinking, hips shifting so he feels that heat on his thigh, making him leak precum.

You’re trembling just a bit as the tip of his tongue slips up the curve of your neck, a hand slipping up your thigh, thumb pressing under one of the diamond openings of the stockings, brushing bare skin. Your breasts are damn near in his face as they rise and fall in the thin black halter you’re wearing, nipples poking out with how they’re tightening.

He presses a little kiss on your neck with plump lips, and instead of smirking at you like he would, he can’t form a coherent thought - all he can think is he needs you, beyond a want. He needs to bite your neck and mark you up for him so beautifully, so much so none of that concealer you wear would work, no you’d have to take days off, finally relax so good with him rubbing every inch.

It’s like the room fades for you, you can’t remember there are strippers, that there are mobsters, that your friend is there, it’s all this man that’s practically a stranger, who you for some reason trust to snort this powder off you. His lips linger far too long, before he pulls back, blue eyes so dark they’re black, his pupils dilated, with a mix of cocaine and desire.

“Woah, you need the room?” Toji mentions, earning your blush, but Satoru can’t stop staring, at that vein in your neck just pulsing, aching to bite it, like some psychotic feral vampire. He feels things right now he never has, not the casual desire, not the ease of having a woman, he wants to bite, kiss and lick every goddamn inch of this sexy body shifting again on him.

“We’re actually almost finished if you can focus a moment, Satoru.” Suguru says as he pinches his nose a bit, tilting his head back and letting his own line hit.

Satoru clears his throat, gently pulling you just a bit more up his hard thigh, smiling at them all. “Go on, finish the boring shit.”

“It’s not exactly boring, Satoru. Considering we need to meet with them.”

“The Zenin?” Suguru nods, and Satoru’s jaw clenches.

“Let’s meet with the Kamo family first.” Sukuna suggests, pressing a kiss on his own girl’s neck, as she strokes back his pink locks, making Satoru ache for this from you, for everything from you. “We can see if potentially they’ll be on our side.”

“Shit, it’s a good idea.” Toji sips on his beer now, laughing as he presses it between his stripper thighs, grinning lewdly.

“I’m down for that first if everyone is in agreement. Satoru?” Suguru asks, and Satoru tries to focus on all this boring shit, when he’s much rather finger the slick he feels gathering against his expensive slacks.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll set it up.” He mumbles, and you look at him, your eyes dilated like his, but without any drug, it’s just pure want. Fucked up off his energy. “I can send everyone the details.”

“Sounds good.” Everyone gets up now, and Satoru holds you down just a bit longer, as they’re laughing and talking, heading out to the bar, he turns you to the side just a bit, tilting up your chin, hair falling down your back, brushing against where he has his arm against your back.

“You alright, sweets? That’s a lot to handle.” You blink just a bit, flushing as you shyly nod. “Ya sure?”

“I didn’t hear much.” You admit, and he exhales, his hand slipping back up your thigh, waiting for you to say something, to push off his hand, but you just watch him, eyeing him carefully, legs spreading just a bit. “I was distracted.”

“Yeah? By what, hmm?” You look away, so shy, he chuckles, leaning even closer to you. “You’re so cute.”

“You say that.”

“You are.”

“These dark circles sexy?”

“On you.”

“Mr. Gojo…” You lean closer yourself now, shifting your hips just a bit, earning his soft moan as he feels that wetness pouring against him.

“Need something, love? A thank you?”

“You gave me hundreds to be here, it’s already too generous. Why… um did you?” You ask curiously, and he looks down a bit, at your lips.

“I heard you work a lot, and can’t miss shifts. I didn’t wanna make you lose out on tips.”

“That’s so…” You’re blown away then. “I really appreciate it, but you wouldn’t have had to pay me to sit on your lap.”

“Oh yeah?” You bite your lower lip, shaking your head, when his hand slips even higher, and he eats up every bit of your expression, like you’re just as drunk off him as he is off you.

“I’m sure no girl has ever needed to get paid on your lap, Mr. Gojo.”

“My name, it’s Satoru.” You brush your hair back a bit, letting silken strands flow through your fingers, as Satoru’s hand is at the apex of your thighs, his thumb brushing right against where you’re soaked, eliciting a soft whine.

“C-can I call you that, though?”

“You can…” His thumb brushes your clit now, and you moan out loud, covering your mouth, but it’s too late, he heard it, thumb pressing where you’re sticky and so hot he can’t take it. “You’re soaked, baby girl.”

“Embarrassing… I’m so-”

“No, fuck it’s sexy.” You’re blushing further, so overheated as your thighs spread, and he moans, lips an inc from yours. “Satoru, say it.”

“Sa-”

“Are you coming Satoru?” Suguru peers in, and you quickly hop up, as Satoru considers killing his best friend. “We gotta - shit… didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No, no it’s fine!” You’re quickly walking out, and Satoru literally has to turn and adjust himself, groaning, head falling back.

“Shit, my bad Satoru.”

“I’ll kill you, Suguru.” He grumbles, shoving at his friend just a bit. “Let me say goodbye to her first.”

“Calling it a goodbye?”

“Fuck off, Sugu.” He’s shoving his friend, as he catches sight of you rushing to the locker rooms.

You’re splashing cool water on your neck, on your face, you don’t even recognize yourself in that mirror, with the desire making your face look like you’re lit off your ass, like you’re drugged from that cocaine on your skin. You can’t even be thinking of this, not with who you’re dealing with right now, not with all your shit, all the work you have to do.

Satoru’s beautiful but…

You’ve never been one to fuck randoms, you’re unfortunately a person that needs feelings, and fuck if you don’t already have feelings that make no sense for someone you barely know. Something about him beyond model good looks, beyond that clear confidence, something about his touch sending those shocks through you, shocks that make no sense.

The door opens, and instead of one of the girls, or even Sukuna or Toji, it’s Satoru, disheveled hair spiked up, his eyes bright fucking blue in the lights of the locker room, looking right at you. You turn back to the mirror, hastily fixing your hair, trying to act normal.

“Leaving for the night?” You ask, voice hoarse just a bit, as you ache to say so much more, but he’s walking to you, long strides, until he’s right in front of you, cupping your face with one of those big hands, exhaling sweet cool breath against your lips.

“I want you to sit on my lap during the next meeting, yeah?”

“Satoru…”

“I’ll pay more.”

“What!? Why?” You ask again, curiously, and he sighs.

“I like you there.” His vulnerability shocks you. “Meetings, business, life? It’s so fucking boring. With you it’s…”

“Different?”

“Yes, different. I can’t really… will you?” You nod then, shyly, earning his big grin. “Also, I want you to take a day off.”

“What? Off here?”

“No, your normal job. Here, for next time.” He hands you hundreds, and you shake your head, but he takes it and slips it right in your bra, backs of his fingers brushing against your breasts, eliciting a whimper. “Shit…”

“You can’t give me all this. And… taking a day off, I-”

“Fine then leave early or some shit. Just… you look like you could use a little break?”

“Don’t feel sorry for me for working a lot.” You frown a bit, and Satoru imagines just how little you’ll ever have to do, when you’re his.

“I admire it, shit. Swear I don’t feel bad for you. Just know, that’s pennies to me, okay? And I enjoyed your… I enjoyed you there.”

You smile a bit, as the cash presses against your skin, and you step closer. “Can I hug you?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Huh?”

You both giggle, and you’re looking down shyly. “Just a kiss?” Satoru presses you against the counter, his hard body hot against yours.

“Pick which lips you want kissed.” His voice is husky, as he presses a thigh between yours, and you can’t stop the soft cry that elicits from your mouth.

“Satoru…”

“I’m serious. I can put a kissy on each lips, baby girl.” He’s tilting your chin up, and you lick your lower lip nervously, as swirling blue eyes drink you in.

“Why me? You can have… anyone.”

“You’re not just anyone. But also… have you seen you?”

“Yes, silly. I look tired.”

“Psh, pick it, where you want your thank you kiss.” You brush against his thigh, and he leans down, hungrily kissing you, and then it’s over for Satoru.

When your lips, so plush and pliant under his part just a bit, your cute little gasp, his tongue slips in past the seam, and you’re whining out softly, hands clinging to his dress shirt, earning him pressing that thigh harder. You’re grinding on it, fucking shameless as your tongues meet, at first tentative on your end, but Satoru consumes your damn mouth, your everything.

He’s moaning, damn near whimpering, a hand entangling in your hair, pulling just a bit as you roll your hips. “Shit, gonna grind on my leg like that? Even wetter than that whole meeting, huh?”

“Shh, w-wasn’t…” He smiles against your lips, kissing you deeper and deeper, as you grind, damn near about to cum from the friction.

“I can take care of-”

“Ahem.” Toji and Sukuna walk in then, and Satoru exhales, resting his forehead for a moment, against yours, as your breaths mingle, thoughts wild.

Satoru Gojo is dangerous, right?

He runs the Gojo Mafia, right?

Then why is he so sweet, so caring, so… fuck, he’s thoughtful. And every bit of his danger makes you crave him even more, like a moth drawn to his bright light, the beauty of him was just a small part of it. You ached to be consumed by him, fucked until you have no more thoughts.

Not all the damn money you owe Mei Mei.

Not the responsibilities thrown all over you from your mom.

You want to be thrown in every position for this man, submit yourself to anything he wants, and the thoughts are making your brain hurt. You take a shaky breath as he pulls back finally, easing a thigh back when you see it, a slight darkening, of where you’d soaked him with your cunt. Panicking, he just turns a bit, brushing it with his thumb, putting it to his lips.

“Shit, ya’ll need a room?” Sukuna asks, as Satoru’s eyes flutter shut, and his cheeks hollow as he sucks you off him.

“We got VIP rooms, ya know. Should charge Gojo for em.” Toji teases, but Satoru is gripping your face again, making you feel like the only damn thing in the world.

“I’ll be here Thursday, take that next day off, yeah?” You nod shyly, as he then whips out his phone, handing it to you. “In case you need anything.”

“Oh… thank you.” You scan the little code, entering his number in your phone with a shaky hand, and he smiles, eyes lingering.

“Night, sweets.”

“Night, Satoru.” You murmur, as he walks out then, you damn near collapse on this counter, head leaned back, finally alone for a moment.

Satoru Gojo, who is he.

Is he the guy that runs with people like Mei, or is he different? He feels different, he seems different…

Later that night you can’t get him out of your damn mind, tossing and turning, you only have a couple hours to sleep, ever, and you can’t be spending this just thinking of Satoru all damn night. You finally bite your lower lip, shooting him a little text, hoping it wouldn’t wake him up.

You: Good night, Mr. Gojo.

Satoru: You know it’s Satoru, hmm? Can’t sleep?

You: A lot on my mind… but thank you for today, you didn’t have to.

Satoru: That’s nothing to thank me over. But, you’re welcome, have sweet dreams… of me.

You giggle then, shaking your head, and biting your thumb just a bit.

You: Only if you dream of me.

Satoru: You think I haven’t already?

You cover your face, damn near squealing, fuck he makes you feel like some little high school girl, giggling as she hears her crush on the phone. Your hands are shaking just a bit as you contemplate what to say. You are terrified to bring anyone into the shitshow that’s your life, your mom coming in and out, taking money and disappearing, your brother coming too, begging for money.

You have a mess of a life, with a cruel woman after you, threatening you constantly, and you’re scared to open up, to be happy, even for a moment. But when he texts you next, you can’t stop your heart from racing.

Satoru: You know, masturbation relaxes me, knocks me right out.

You: Oh does it now?

Satoru: Try it and let me know next time you see me.

As Satoru speaks, he’s picturing you, and he can’t stop himself from stroking his cock slowly, up and down, as he’s riding in the back of his limo, finally all alone, fuck just your three dots typing and the memory of your taste are more than enough. His head falls back as he does, stroking his cock up and down, twisting and whimpering just so, when you finally type back.

You: Hmm… it is a little relaxing.

Satoru almost loses his shit, picturing how pretty your pussy must look.

Satoru: Giving it a shot? Listening, like a good girl?

Good girl, shit. You’re whining as you run circles over your clit, and you can’t type anymore, and Satoru notices, calling you now, shocking you. “S-Satoru?”

“Lemme give you pointers.” He says huskily, and you hear him, grunting just so, making you cry out.

“What? Are you…”

“So you get good sleep, you know- f-fuck. Rub little circles on that clit, hmm sweetheart?”

“Fuck…”

“You cuss?” He asks with a breathless laugh, hearing your whine on the phone, as your fingers get slippery. “If I wasn’t going out of town I’d come right over, make sure you’re doing it right.”

“Oh, would you? What if… I w-wasn’t, ngh!” Shit, Satoru’s about to bust just hearing your breathy cry.

“I’d have to show you how, baby girl. For your sleep, you know. Maybe use my fingers, bet yours don’t hit hmm? So tiny.”

“Mnh… Y-you would?”

“Let you use my thigh.”

“Satoru!”

“My face?”

“Fuck!” You’re screaming out as your little clit twitches, just edging him to moan, pumping cum all down his hand, he groans at it, at the flooding of sensations, his head falling forward, seeing the endless white cum spurting out his pretty pink tip. “S-sorry, I don’t usually cuss I s-swear… or d-do this…”

“Shh, sweetheart, you deserve some relaxation, hmm?” His murmur makes you ache for him, as you wonder…

What is this?

He just makes you let go.

You exhale now, struggling to right yourself, adjusting your shorts, sticky just a bit, as Satoru’s wiping himself um, moaning softly. “I’ve never done this.”

“You’re so cute. So fun to corrupt.”

“Oh!”

He’s laughing softly, zipping himself back up, as he aches for you, more and more. “I’ll see you soon, maybe I’ll show you some pointers.”

“You’re so sure of yourself hmm?”

“I’m Satoru Gojo, baby girl.” But he’s not sure of himself, he’s not sure he’d last long inside your cunt, god he imagines it’s perfect, he can’t get it out of his head, those moans, those whines, that liquid heat on his thigh.

“Satoru, wherever you’re going, be safe.” Your thoughtfulness touches him then, sure he has some friends, but no one says - stay safe. He’s momentarily stunned, hearing your yawn then, smiling at it.

“Of course I will be. See, masturbation, the cure.”

You giggle, shaking your head as you yawn once more, feeling your eyelids get heavy. “What’s this… mean?”

“That you want me so bad-”

“Satoru!”

“It means you’ll sleep good.” You both laugh softly, and you sigh then.

“Good night, Satoru.”

“Good night, sweets.” He waits for you to end the call, covering his face now, as his cock throbs with aftershocks, and he knows good and damn well it’s not the last time he’d jerk off to you tonight. No, it’s definitely not, he’s in the shower later at the hotel he’s staying at for the night, wishing he could just say fuck all this, and fuck his pretty bartender.

As he lays in the fancy hotel bed, he’s stroking it again, picturing how you’d ride him, how you’d bounce on his cock. The next morning even, he’s stroking it again, until his cock fucking hurts, remembering those moans, those whimpers, those sweet little cries.

Satoru must have you.

A/N - hehe I know it's SO LATE- I'll reblog in the morning <3 I hope you all enjoy- I'm thinking 6 parts or so on this onneee, there is gonna be a lot of drama and a lot of Toru being whipped- this is kinda the intro chap. See you in the comments my lovesss

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peachsayshi · 2 days ago

Text

₊ ⊹ . ݁ THE KING ₊ ⊹ .

(boxer!sukuna x reader)

⊹ tags: ryomen sukuna x female reader; childhood friends; character mentions: uraume - satoru gojo; unresolved tension; sukuna is oh so in love; fluffy but a mix of angst/smut/fluff; domestic; non curse au; p in v sex; unprotected sex; dry humping; making out; oral sex;

:about: you've known sukuna before he was a world boxing champion, when he was just a scrawny kid who used to hide behind your legs when you were both in kindergarten. sukuna is growing tired of the fame and fortune, and all he really wants is to fall into the arms of the one person who he's always considered his home.

this fic is one shot. I'll happily answer any lore questions regarding boxer!sukuna x reader, but there will not be a part two or more parts of their story. It is a standalone.

wc: 19K+

Sukuna steps out of the shower, his body wound up in a tight coil after the night's fight. He presses the bridge of his nose together to relieve his throbbing head, but his brow is searing with pain. When he opens his eyes he catches a reflection of his self in the bathroom mirror- a split on his bottom lip, a cut on the arch of his right eyebrow and a slight bruise on his left cheek.

It's rare for him to look this battered after a match.

He's been untouchable for years, he's almost forgotten what it's like to take a few good hits in the ring.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?"

His eyes flicker up toward Uraume, who seems to have appeared out of nowhere.

He shakes his head at his manager. "Nothing happened, I won. Isn't that a good thing?"

Uraume narrows their gaze, sharp like a sly little fox. They can read Sukuna like a book, but Sukuna chooses to play ignorant and brushes off their knowing stare.

He knows that the inquisition isn't about the sponsors, the money, or the win.

He also knows that Uraume never asks questions that they don’t know the possible answer to.

Thankfully, his manager just sighs.

"The limo is outside waiting to take you to the party," they state, their heavy exhale indicating that they know Sukuna won't own up to what they are trying to prod out of him.

"Fuck," Sukuna grumbles. The towel hangs low on his hips, and he throws the one that is around his neck onto the ground. He steps outside to the locker room and proceeds to change. He dries off, puts on his boxers and picks up his black t-shirt before pulling it over his bare chest marked with ink. He then tugs on his jeans, and secures his belt around the waist. "Do I have to go to that?"

Uraume shrugs, "Don't you want to parade your big victory over Satoru Gojo to the rest of the world?" his manager adds, slipping both hands into their pocket as they stride casually toward Sukuna who is merely trying to gather the rest of his things.

The last touch is his signature silver chain necklace. He hooks the accessory around his neck, while mentally preparing himself for the crowd waiting for him outside. For the voices that would be screaming out his name, and the obnoxious paparazzi who can't seem to grasp the concept of personal space.

They all gawk at him like he's a endangered animal at the zoo.

His chest seizes at the thought.

He used to gloat over being in the spotlight. He took to stardom with an extreme sense of pride, but the thought of it right now just makes his skin crawl uncomfortably.

The only thing that Ryomen Sukuna wanted at this very moment, is to go home in fucking peace.

He’s given the fans and the world what they wanted.

"Little shit got what was coming to him," he blurts out in response to Uraume. "It'll take him a while to lick his wounds and get over his broken pride..."

Uraume chuckles, "and I was worried that he might have actually had an advantage over you..."

Sukuna swallows the sudden lump in his throat.

God he was fucking tired. His whole body is aching, begging him to get some much needed rest. He hadn’t trained this hard in a long time. The strict diet, the isolation, the strenuous days in the gym and in the training ring slowly started filtering into him in doses.

"Almost," he admits quietly, a little bitter over the reality of the situation that he was close to losing. "He's good for his age. Really good actually."

Uraume's face falls at that. "You don't sound like yourself, my king," they tease half-heartedly, addressing Sukuna by yet another title which he earned in the ring.

"The King", "The Beast", “The Champ”, “Monster of The Ring”…

There was a time when he was younger, when the fire for the fight burned inside him with such intense conviction, that he found dignity in the titles that he's earned from every match. The thrilling sensation of him standing in the middle of the ring, his hands raised with victorious joy as he looked down at his opponent while the crowd would cheer for him like he was a figure of the divine, used to mean a great deal to him.

But those titles feel…hollow. An old skin which Sukuna unknowingly shrugged off without even realizing it.

"I'm just exhausted," he breathes with a hint of frustration, giving Uraume a reply after allowing his mind to drift for a few seconds. "I've got a raging headache and my shoulder is killing me."

He slings his bag over his good arm, before turning to face his manager.

The pair walk down towards the end of the hallway, and Sukuna can already hear the muffled voices from the press that have slowly gathered inside. He elongates his spine naturally as he holds a domineering pose. He quietly huffs out a breath and tries to steady the uneasiness coursing through his veins. The second the press lay their eyes on him, they stampede towards Sukuna like dogs off their leash. A flash of white and blue flickers around him, disorienting him for a single moment.

"Hey, champ! How does it feel to knock out Satoru Gojo after everything he said this season?"

"Way to prove that you're still The Beast of the Ring! What's next for our King?"

"You've held your championship title for ten consecutive years! How do you go up from here?"

"Sukuna! Sukuna! Is it true that you've just locked in a multi-million dollar deal with Nike?"

Uraume steadies the crowd, protectively standing in front of Sukuna as they gesture everyone to calm down.

Despite the sheer difference in their size, Uraume has a natural way of commanding a room.

That's one thing Sukuna has always been grateful for regarding his manager; Uraume always looked out for his best interest first.

"Hello, everyone," they politely speak, their voice calm and pleasant. "While we appreciate the enthusiasm; our champion, Ryomen Sukuna, will only be making a single statement. He's had a long night and needs his rest," they announce, before looking over their shoulder and giving Sukuna a nod of approval to say what he needs to say.

The man is thankful for Uraume every single day. He already informed them earlier that he wasn't interested in any post-match interview or conversations with the press, and Uraume happily obliged by accepting the privacy that he desperately needed.

Sukuna tightens his grip around the gym bag over his shoulder. He stares at the small audience before him before clearing his throat to speak. "Young fighters like to run their mouth. I know because I used to be one of them. It's easy to be all bark and no bite. But in my case, I came out teeth first-" he states with a patronizing tone, noticing the press eagerly hang onto his every word and even laughing at his snide remark.

They are waiting for a brutal comment from the badass himself, for him to add the cherry on top of all the shit-talk he’s already dished out.

But Sukuna acknowledges that there is no place for it now.

He doesn't need to add more to the hurt he's already caused to Satoru Gojo.

Everything was settled in the ring, and now it was over.

"However, I have to admit that this was one of the best fights of my career. I had fun. He's been a thorn by my side but I respect Satoru, and I know he has a brilliant career on the horizon. That's all I have to say about that for now. Have a good night."

He steps away from the press, who trail at his feet like a pack of rats rattling off question after question as Uraume tries to console their demands. His manager delays their footing, all the while Sukuna finds the rest of his entourage at the arena exit.

A string of bodyguards help him get through the second crowd of loyal fans who have gathered. They are waving phones in the air, begging for photos and videos. Sukuna obliges with a few, trying his best to fight off the shakes that's starting to make his hand tremble slightly. People lift up their shirts, flash their cleavage and pull out posters, bras and clothes for him to sign. He does so, his signature faltering from a clean string of letters to a fast doodle of his name. His fans offer him flowers, art, and mementos which he takes, and whatever extra he can't carry he hands off to one of his guards. When he's finally had enough of giving himself to the fans, he bids everyone a wave as his bodyguards escort him to the private parking lot in the back of the arena.

Sukuna doesn't even realize how hard his heart had started hammering until he's embraced back into the quiet again. He feels incredibly uncomfortable in his own skin, and he isn't sure if it's the apprehension or the adrenaline wearing off from the fight. The phone in his pocket buzzes, probably Uraume wanting to make sure he's made it safely to his vehicle, but he can’t bring himself to answer the call.

"Sir," one of his bodyguards states, "There's a VIP who is expecting to see you..."

"So?" Sukuna scoffs, the black Mercedes in the distance a sanctuary. "I don't want to fucking see them."

"Well, you see, they insisted. They weren't taking no for an answer."

"And you would be shit at your job if you just let them roll over you like that," Sukuna begrudgingly replies.

Sukuna wasn't particularly fond of the VIP guest lists. A majority of them were people who wanted to fawn over him, or simply weasel their way into his pants. The other half were people with deeper pockets trying trying to bargain him into fixing fights so that they can win big bucks on their bets.

Sukuna did not have the time or patience for the latter, and even the former as well.

Especially tonight.

"Actually, Sir, she's waiting for you as we speak-" the bodyguard stammers, having to look up when he addresses Sukuna.

The champion stops abruptly to give him a puzzled stare and a piece of his mind over his bodyguard’s stupidity, but his attention is sharply drawn back to the car when he notices a figure step out of the Mercedes.

You're wearing a denim skirt, a fitted white top and a pair of black boots. Sukuna’s heart skips a beat, noticing that your hair looks a little different from when he last saw you. A sparkle of silver glitters on your neck that matches his own chain, and you beam at him with a bright smile that steadies his soul.

The click of your heels echo a little louder from the distance as you approach him, waving your fingers delicately in his direction to say your first hello. Sukuna's feet moves faster than the rest of him. He drops his bag off his shoulder, the gifts in his hands splay across the concrete ground and he scoops you up in his arms before spinning you in the air the second he wraps his arms around you.

You giggle at his greeting, your body trapped in a blanket of muscle and cologne. Your fingers thread between the strands of his red hair, tears pricking your eyes at the sight of your best and oldest friend.

Sukuna squeezes you tightly, "they should have just told me it was you by name," he exhales with a hint of annoyance, then carefully places you back down to rest your feet on the ground.

You laugh under your breath, "Don't worry, I gave them hell for it. I told them that I'm the only VIP who mattered considering I have been on that list the longest...."

You try to loosen your grip but Sukuna tenses up, so you ease back into his hug.

He didn’t want to let go just yet.

And truthfully, neither do you.

"Hi, princess," he whispers in your ear, his voice deep and thick with fatigue.

"Hey, 'kuna" you reply softly, your fingers curling around the back of his neck, as your heart beats heavily against his now relaxed chest.

₊ ⊹ .

The light from the car's backseat illuminates Sukuna's ruggedly handsome face. You cup his jaw between your fingers, and lightly trace your thumb over the cut on his swollen lip. Your eyes track upward and you wince at the gash across his brow.

"He got a few good hits on you didn't he?" you point out, not as a question necessarily but more as a statement of the obvious.

"A few good hits doesn't mean shit..."

"When was the last time you got hit this bad in the ring?" you press.

"I fight for a living, someone was bound to land a punch someday. Besides, it's not a concern. I had my good luck charm tonight without even knowing it..." he responds with a wolfish grin.

You jab him playfully in the chest. "You're not made of steel you know? You had me concerned for a second..."

"I roughed him up too," Sukuna states with a pout, "you're all acting like he walked away completely unscathed..."

He slings an arm over your shoulder, his strength pushing your body weight to lean closer against his side. You shake your head with disapproval as you press the button to switch off the light above you both.

The city moves past you in a haze, but you can't stop taking in the man before you.

Ryomen Sukuna.

The first time you met him was on the playground of your old kindergarten. You were all outdoors, and you noticed that these two bigger kids were knocking him around. The kindergarten teachers weren't anywhere to be seen. At the clear imbalance of power and with your sheer sense of goodwill, you decided to go over there and help.

Sukuna had just joined your class only three weeks before that. He was the smallest kid, and had a hard time keeping up with everyone else. Everyone made fun of him and called him "chili crisp" because of his hair. They teased him constantly for how he looked, how he dressed, and how he spoke and simply refused to play with him.

Being young and impressionable, you never engaged. But you didn't do anything to help Sukuna either. It made you ache seeing him treated this way, and this time you weren't just going to let it slide anymore.

Sukuna did nothing to deserve this treatment in the first place.

However, despite his small stature, Sukuna was a fighter even then.

He kept getting up even if it meant that he would just be shoved down once again.

You remember walking up to both those kids and grabbing them by the collar. You yanked them off, placing yourself in between them and Sukuna before scolding them both for their terrible behavior.

"I'm gonna tell!" you squealed with a furious point of your finger, threatening them with snitching words. "And if I ever see you hurt him, I'm going to make sure everyone knows how bad you are! And you’ll get into so much trouble with the teachers!”

You sharply kicked them both in their heels, and watched the kids scamper off, a little more intimidated now that someone they deemed as an equal threat entered the playing filed. Once they were gone, you turned toward Sukuna who was planted on the concrete ground. He was wiping away his snotty nose and trying to hide his tears.

You scratched the back of your head nervously, your throat all itchy and tight from the sight of him.

"You're-you're not a chili crisp," was all you could think of telling him in that moment. You gave him a small but kind smile, before offering him both your hands and helping him on his feet.

He was a whole head and shoulder shorter than you were back then. His clothes barely hung onto his body. He had to fix up his t-shirt and readjust his shorts.

"I know that," he answered with irritation, and a scowl that never seemed to have left him.

You assisted in brushing the dust off him.

"Your name is Ryo-men Su-ku-na?" you asked, breaking down the pronunciation of his name to make sure you said it correctly.

He nodded his head quietly.

You gave him another tender grin, and reached out for his hand before introducing yourself.

"I know who you are, I'm not stupid."

You frowned at his sharp response. "I never said you were."

The two of you stood there facing one another in awkward silence, unsure of how to proceed from the moment.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the next, kicking a random little rock on the ground. "Those kids are stupid."

"Yeah, they are." He grumbled through gritted teeth.

"So, if I'm not stupid and you're not stupid, why don't we be friends?"

Sukuna's eyes widened slightly at your words, like he couldn't believe what you said.

"Friends?"

"Yeah!" you squeaked with a little more excitement. "You'll have someone to sit next to and play with every day!"

He nervously gripped the hem of his tee.

He never gave you a real response, but the next day he showed up and took a seat right next to you in class.

You were both six years old, and have been insuperable ever since.

₊ ⊹ .

You press your cheek against his broad shoulder, and Sukuna sighs as his body melts into the leather seat underneath him. His hand gently rubs your own shoulder, with the two of you sitting in silence together as you have done many times before. He instructs the driver to take you both back to his penthouse, disregarding some after party that he's expected to attend.

At the call, your heart flutters with anticipation because it was a clear sign indicating that he wanted to be alone with you.

You shivered thinking of the last time that happened.

It's hard to believe that this version of Sukuna co-exists with the person you've known for a majority of your life.

The day after he sat next to you in kindergarten, everything changed for the better.

Sukuna still grimaced at everyone else, but kids no longer picked fights with him and he had a warming smile that was reserved for you alone.

Whether in class or outside of school, you both spent every spare moment that you could together. You were glued to the hip like two peas in a pod. Your parents adored him, doted on Sukuna despite him resisting their affection. It was only one night, when he was having yet another sleepover at your place, where you finally asked him how is he able to hang out with you all the time.

Sukuna revealed a truth that broke your heart entirely.

“Here is better than being home. Usually it's just me..."

"Just you?" you whispered innocently, "but your mom and dad?"

You watched him shrink into his blanket with uncertainty. "Don't know. I live with my Grandpa. He works a lot..."

It's only later in your life where you learnt the full story.

Sukuna’s parents abandoned him, leaving him with his grandfather to pursue reckless adventures together. At the time Sukuna was only three years old. His grandfather worked hard to provide for the boy, but he was an aging old man and didn’t expect to be responsible for such a young child. Sukuna's grandfather always showed deep gratitude to your parents for helping out and providing Sukuna with another safe space that gave him some much needed stress relief on his end.

His daughter eventually returned, in tow this time with Sukuna’s half brother Yuji. His dead beat dad was gone for good. But by then Sukuna was already fourteen.

He’s always had a complex relationship with his family, but things seem to be better with his brother. The two of them could pass off as identical twins, it was almost scary how alike they looked.

You loved Yuji; he was a living antithesis of his older brother. Always perky, smiling so bright it’s like the sun follows his footsteps.

Sukuna, on the other hand, carried the shadow and gloom of a waning moon.

Your childhood and early adolescent years were precious, cherished moments and memories that solidified the strength of your relationship. But despite everything, you were the only person who saw how bright Sukuna's own light could shine.

The driver finally parks the car in front of one of the most expensive buildings in Tokyo. Sukuna gets out first, and extends a hand into the vehicle to help grab yours. The touch sends tingles up your arm, but you do your best not to read into the reaction just yet.

The two of you enter the building, passing the security who simply tilts their head in acknowledgment, but from your peripheral vision you notice Sukuna’s eyes shifting around his environment.

“No cameras,” you reassure him with a squeeze to his bicep. “No paparazzi…”

Sukuna was aware of what he signed up for with fame, but that did not mean that you had to be subjected to the aggressive violation of privacy.

And after everything that happened, after the horrific clashing of both your worlds, he felt himself breathe a huge sigh of relief.

“They probably think I am showing up to the victory party,” he answered with gratitude.

The elevator rings, the doors opening as you both step inside.

Sukuna hits the button to the penthouse suite, and from the way his shoulders slump you can tell there is something off about his demeanor.

This isn’t the Ryomen you knew who walked away from a fight with the buzz of the winner.

He’s dimmed.

A bulb that’s flickering.

Something’s wrong, you thought, looping your arm around his and keeping your eyes on the numbers increasing as you swallow your concern.

₊ ⊹ .

Puberty didn’t hit Sukuna; it struck him like a brick over his head.

At sixteen years old, Sukuna was no longer the loser kid that everyone picked on. He was a tower, a watchful pillar that looked down on those around him with an intimidating stare. All of a sudden this scrawny boy shot up like a tree, his body springing into a new version of himself. His voice broke, dropping octaves lower than the soft tone of what it used to be. His shoulders broadened, lean muscle forming since he spent most of his time wrestling and boxing.

He became the bad boy that everyone blushed and fawned over.

The athlete that people admired.

His coaches loved him - called him a prodigy, and a star of the future.

Sukuna carried himself with plenty of self respect, and was extremely well spoken. Outside of his athletics he enjoyed reading and learning history, and his venture into sports only happened because it kept him busy and gave him some much needed space away from his home. He was readjust to a new life with his mom back in the picture, and a brother who was five years younger than him. At first it was simply an escape, but once he settled into the atmosphere of it all, it gave him a sense of structure. Sukuna was diligent about his training and academics, outsmarting and outplaying almost everyone around him. His motivation was fueled with every game and competition, and you quickly saw that Sukuna only had the expectation of being a winner and nothing else.

Navigating your teenage years was a bit tough for both of you.

It began with one sleep over just a year prior, the moment where you both recognized that things couldn’t progress as casually as they used to. You woke up tangled in each other’s arms, hyper aware of your bodies and the parts that were blooming.

Sukuna slept on the sofa every sleep over after that.

Thanks to your eruptive hormones, the both you bickered often and frequently. As you and Sukuna started understanding your own senses of selves, a hint of distance started to grow. For a long time the two of you only ever had each other, but with Sukuna now a part of the athletic group and you falling in line with your own little clique, the both of you were finding some time away from each other and identifying who you were without the other person around.

However, you always came back to one another, like two little magnets seeking each other out.

It’s all you’ve ever known since you were six.

One afternoon, while hanging out in the school’s basketball court, Sukuna turned to face you as you paced behind him while he was throwing some shots for fun.

“They think you’re my girlfriend,” he casually stated, referencing his new set of friends who always studied you with intense curiosity.

Your face burned multiple degrees hotter than it should.

“W-what?” You stammered.

“Yeah,” he answered nonchalantly, and you watched him dribble the basketball as the awkwardness settled.

“That’s…that’s weird…” was all you could think of adding on. “You told them I am not, right?”

Sukuna furrowed his brows and hummed. But he nodded his head.

“Just because we are friends that doesn’t automatically mean that we are “boyfriend and girlfriend”,” you insisted, using air quotes to emphasize your statement.

Sukuna turned so his back was to you, and tossed the ball directly into the ring.

“That’s what I told them…” he reassured, but something about his tone didn’t sit right with you.

The summer that followed - Sukuna’s grandfather, mom and brother took a trip away. Sukuna declined to join since he was participating in a tournament. After his wrestling team came out victorious, he decided to throw a secret bash at his place to celebrate.

You were there helping him hide away all the fragile items, before staring at him in shock when he placed a few beer cans on his kitchen counter.

“How did you get that?” You asked in a low whisper, afraid that you both might somehow get caught for doing something that you aren’t supposed to.

He just gave you a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry about it, Princess…”

That nickname stuck on you like glue. It’s something Sukuna called you with annoyance when you were both kids, and you used to call him an angry dragon in return. Even though you stopped using that silly term, for some reason Sukuna’s pet name morphed into one of endearment and affection which he kept using.

“It’s just the team and a couple of girls that the guys have been trying to get with…” he ensured, “The guys wanted the beers, so I managed to sneak some from my grandfather’s stash…”

“And what if he finds out?”

Sukuna laughs, “that old man can’t even remember what day it is. I’m sure he won’t notice a few beer cans missing…”

That night you had your first secret party, your first sip of beer and your first kiss; it was one of those core memories that lingered that was reminiscent of the adrenaline rush from living out the freedom of being young with no responsibilities. You don’t remember who it was who called out the idea of playing seven minutes in heaven, but suddenly all of you were sitting in a circle spinning an empty bottle on Sukuna’s grandfather’s worn rug. Your heart sat at your throat, your eyes fixated on the piece of twirling glass, half wondering who it would land on. You watched as couples disappeared into Sukuna’s room, everyone snickering in a circle thinking about what the potential couples could possibly be doing.

The boys were crude with their commentary, and the girls giggled with feign disgust.

Some people came out looking displeased, clearly unamused by what they experienced, while others had a look of euphoria on their faces.

When the bottle landed on you, the first person you found yourself seeking out was Sukuna.

However, the other end of the bottle wasn’t pointing to him, but to one of his teammates.

His friend’s eyes widen with intrigue, a cute smile forming on his pouty lips.

Your own cheeks warmed with curiosity.

He helped you onto your feet, but the two of you were struck with an abrupt question that had you pausing your movements.

“Do you want to do this?” Sukuna pointedly asked, his focus on you alone and no one else.

There was a grave but serious look resting firmly on his face.

Something about his stare made you uncomfortable, though you couldn’t place why. With the eyes of everyone else on you and his teammate, you instantly wanted to divert the intense attention elsewhere.

“Of course!” You said with a casual shrug, then grabbed his teammate’s hand and led him into Sukuna’s bedroom.

You’ve been in here countless of times, never once feeling uncomfortable in this space. But this time, you were quite aware of the state of his bed, of the slightly rumpled sheets that were tugged from edge to edge. Your mouth went dry, your body suddenly trying to recollect every movie, book and comic that explained or depicted the intimacies between two people.

Two hands touched your waist, spinning you on your feet.

“Time’s ticking,” his friend said. “We shouldn’t waste it…”

“I’ve never done this before…” you blurted out.

“I haven’t either…” he answered kindly, and that made you feel better.

“Okay…” you said, before placing your hands awkwardly on his shoulder.

“Let’s just start with a kiss…” he suggested and then leaned forward.

You were frozen then, unsure of what to do. You stood there with wide eyes as you felt his lips on yours, the sensation making your belly tingle.

He pulled away.

“That wasn’t too bed…” you admitted and he laughed.

“Do you want to try?” He asked.

Your first initiated kiss wasn’t magical, nor was it horrendous as some of your other friends experienced. Even now when you think about it - the only memory that hits you is one of innocent exploration. It took a minute for you to get comfortable with his prodding tongue, to figure out the clash between lips and teeth, and to allow his wet muscle to access our mouth and glide over your own. The sensation reminded you of sticky, tacky popsicles that clung to your lips in summers past.

It was fun…until a loud bang startled you both, making you split from each other’s arms like opposing forces.

“Time’s up,” Sukuna growled, before barging in without even so much as asking if you were decent like he did with the other pairs.

The look he gave his teammate was terrifying, even you couldn’t help but gulp.

His friend let out a nervous giggle, scratching the back of his head as he scurried his way out. “Damn, that was fast!” He tittered nervously, his voice cracking slightly towards the end.

Sukuna narrowed his gaze as he watched him leave the room. Meanwhile, you both stood there facing each other, noticing his nostrils flaring as your breath rose and fell.

“What?” You questioned, returning his hard stare with an even stronger glare.

He huffed out a breath through his nose, “are you okay?” he asked, in an attempt to compose his clearly frazzled state.

“Yes!” You blurted back, a little shaken. “Was that even seven minutes?”

Sukuna grimaced, holding onto your eyes before he stormed out of his room, scoffing with annoyance at your response.

Neither of you really spoke about the awkwardness of that moment, and instead carried into the heat of that summer like nothing even happened.

But, what did hurt you after that, was that Sukuna never invited you to any of his “parties” again.

He fibbed and said it was just “a team thing”, but you eventually heard about the other attendees at the party, and only through the grapevine found out about Sukuna’s first kiss.

It felt like a betrayal in its own way, this sudden shakiness in your friendship as uncertain as tectonic plates waiting to crash into a shattering earthquake.

You called him one night to confront him, asking him why he wouldn’t tell you about his first kiss when you both should be able to talk about everything. But that conversation just resulted in an argument, a blow out that felt like a collapse in your world.

You both didn’t speak to each other until the end of that summer, when Sukuna finally waved the white flag by crawling to your front door late one evening with some ice cream as a peace offering.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, while you both sat on the sidewalk, scooping wooden spoons into the tub of vanilla with chocolate chips.

It’s the first time he’s ever apologized to you.

Even when you were kids, Sukuna refused to ever say he was sorry.

He would just pout angrily before over compensating with his sweetness to show you that he didn’t mean it.

But not this time.

You licked the vanilla off the spoon, biting down on the rich chocolate chunks, and hoping that the tears wouldn’t fall from your eyes from how your chest swelled at his remorse.

Sukuna draped an arm around your shoulder, “I hate that things have been weird between us.”

“You made them weird…” you mumbled and he just sighed.

“‘Yes,” he begrudgingly admitted, “yes, I did…”

You turned to look up at him, and he gave you a solemn smile.

“I’m a little possessive of you, I realize…” he explained, his lips forming into that small frown, mirroring his childlike expression.

“A little?” you answered back with a snarky tone.

“You’re my best friend,” he admitted, his eyes downcast with regret. “You have always been my person.”

“You’re my person too, ‘kuna…” you murmured, “but…but being best friends means that we have to trust each other. That we can’t just…hurt each other. That we should stop being honest or talking to one another when things get bad…that we can’t face things that make us…I don’t know, feel weird and stuff…”

He rested his chin on the top of your head, the two of you finally bridging the gap of what seemed to be the first real challenge of your friendship.

“It was a shit kiss…” he sighed, “I was just too fucking embarrassed to tell you.”

You gazed up at him from underneath your lashes.

“Why?” You said with a light laugh.

Sukuna’s attention dipped to your mouth for a split second and back to your eyes again. “I don’t know. You just seemed to have enjoyed yours in comparison. I felt like I lost a game or something. I didn’t want to admit that mine was awkward and wet and just…not fucking good…”

You laughed at that.

“Everything with you is a competition…”

“Not everything…”

You nudged his stomach playfully with your elbow. “Do you remember when we played Mario Kart for the first time? When you lost three rounds in a row and nearly ripped my head off?”

“How was I supposed to know you are freakishly good at that game?”

You laughed, “I stay the reigning champion of rainbow road!”

“You stay a pain in my ass…”

You rolled your eyes, “a pain in your ass that will never leave you, so stop complaining about it…”

Sukuna exhales, “It was…a bad kiss,” he admitted shyly, “She was so damn skittish, and I think I was too. I didn’t…I didn’t think it would be so…ugh. It was just not the right person…”

“Or maybe you were just nervous…” you answered honestly.

Sukuna shook his head.

“No, I know it wasn’t the right person…” he said with confidence.

You unraveled from his hold for a moment to look deep into those heated eyes.

“Can I say something?” he questioned, the tips of his ears turning slightly red, a blush you’ve seen before but never realized how adorable it actually looked on him until this moment.

“Anything”

“I don’t want you to think I am being weird or take this the wrong way…” Sukuna explained, pausing for a single breath before continuing. “I just thought the first person I would’ve kissed would have been…well, you…

The world went still in that moment. All you could hear was the soft rustle of the trees in the distance, and all you could see was the open vulnerability of Sukuna’s heart resting on his face.

It’s incredibly rare for him to even show it, your friend guarding that part of himself with such conviction.

“Oh…”

“But then I realized that you’re not supposed to be kissing your best friend,” he added on, stomping on the spark that flickered between you both before it even had a chance to even light.

“No,” you agreed quickly, your eyes darting to the tub of ice cream. You pressed the back of your spoon into the creamy texture, doing your best to ignore the sudden pulse in your chest.

“My second kiss was a lot better that’s for sure…” Sukuna rambled on, digging his spoon around yours as he scooped himself another serving of ice cream. “Way better actually…and on round three I think I got the hang of it…”

You swallowed the tiny lump in your throat. “I don’t need to know the gross details, please,” you implored, though your stomach rolled with a hint of nausea at the reality that he’s kissed more people than you expected.

You never admitted it out loud, but the confession made you a little jealous.

If you were an option in his head…why didn’t he just ask?

₊ ⊹ .

Sukuna lost his virginity to a freshman college student a year later when he snuck into a party with two of his former teammates. You lost yours on the night of your graduation party to the same boy you kissed for the first time. You and Sukuna were expected to attend the same university (with him obtaining a full scholarship for academic excellence), but your friend had deviated from the shared path after being scouted. The two of you commuted to see each other often, with you visiting him when he was training and him stopping by the campus whenever he had free time.

You and Sukuna knew about the other person’s intimate lives from the stories you shared, and despite continuously being plagued with constant accusations of being “more than friends”, you both agreed never to allow that discomforting prospect to intervene with your friendship again after that terribly awkward summer.

Rather than ignore the fact that you were growing to be even more beautiful by the day, Sukuna just became extremely blunt around you. He didn’t hide his eyes checking you out, noticing how your curves were starting to fill out and how you began to mature into your own features. He confidently spoke about how attractive you were, and often boosted your ego in ways that only enhanced your own confidence.

You enjoyed reminding him that once upon a time he thought “girls were disgusting” and “looked funny”.

“Let’s not forget I am the first guy to marry you,” he joked, recalling a game you both used to play where you pretended to be characters from a fantasy realm.

“Actually you were the first dragon to marry me,” you clarified, because Sukuna loathed the prospect of playing a prince. “I don’t really think it counts…”

“Maybe not - but all these guys fawning over you are going to find out you’re some kind of monster fucker and start running in the other direction…”

It was safe to say that the banter between you both never changed.

You on the other hand, were recognizing just how handsome Sukuna was becoming too. You’ve seen him shirtless a million times up until this point, but something about watching the definition of muscle build into his new physique, and noticing the way manhood slowly enveloped his body, began to hit you in different ways. This was especially noticeable when you would watch him train in the ring, paying attention to the fact that Sukuna wasn’t built just like any average person. It didn’t even occur to you how incredibly strong he had become until he would lift or move your body around like you were weightless and not a living, breathing human with physical mass.

One evening, while you both were walking back to your dorm from a dinner at a cheap ramen bar, Sukuna had the audacity to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder because “you couldn’t keep up with his pace”.

All of a sudden, you were acutely aware that the scrawny boy that you used to protect was now all grown up.

Sukuna morphed into brick and stone, while you were merely glass.

For some reason, it put a strain on your heart.

You guys really weren’t kids anymore.

This was only solidified a year and a half into his career when Sukuna fought in his first professional tournament at twenty years old. The man dominated the ring against his opponent. He broke the record of the most knock outs and became a household name almost overnight.

“The King”

Time moved at double speed after that.

Your fingers that were clinging to bits of nostalgia weren’t able to keep them from it slipping between your grasp. Things were happening in a blur, and the sudden shift in Sukuna’s world felt like a birthing black hole in your own.

The night before Sukuna was flying off on his first world tour, the two of you were cooped up in your dorm room, snuggled underneath the blanket like you used to be when you were both kids.

This time, it wasn’t awkward.

You had both experienced love and lust in different ways up until that point.

You knew that being this close didn’t have to mean anything risqué.

You were comfortable with yourselves far more than you were five years ago.

“It’s going to be weird not seeing you all the time,” you whispered with a sniffle, while Sukuna traced the shell of your ear.

Two silver chains mirrored one another, one on your neck and the other on his. It was your parting gift to him, a reminder to keep a piece of each other around when you couldn’t be together.

You assumed Sukuna would find it stupid, but instead he clasped the necklace around himself before doing the same for you in silent contemplation.

“I’ll keep in touch, brat” he soothed, but you could hear the ache in his voice too.

You circled your arms around his neck, eagerly clinging onto him as closely as you could for the little time you had.

“I am really proud of you though,” you spoke, your shaky breath against his collar bone, a tear rolling down your cheek as you inhaled the herby scent of his soap.

“I’m paying off your loans when the money really starts rolling in,” he chuckled against your temple.

You shook your head with disapproval. “Just buy your grandpa something nice,” you insisted. “And make sure to spoil Yuji…”

“That kid’s already spoiled…”

“But he’s a sweetheart,” you emphasized, “and I know he’s probably going to miss you more than me…”

Sukuna hummed. “I wouldn’t be here without you.”

You tilted your chin up as he dropped his head down, your noses merely inches apart. You relaxed the muscles on your face, your thumb reaching to smooth the crease from between his brows.

“God knows what would have happened if you didn’t save my sorry ass back when we were kids…” he said with an easy smile.

“You would have eventually fought back,” you giggled, “besides, you don’t need me protecting you anymore…” you pointed out, your voice a little breathless, and your anxious mind running on the concern of if you might even fit into Sukuna’s new life after this.

He wrapped his arms around you, bringing you into the seam of his frame.

“I always need you,” he confessed, and those words were enough to make you break as the pain of his departure finally collided into you.

₊ ⊹ .

Sukuna went off to having an extremely successful boxing career.

At twenty-two, he had turned into one of the hottest sports stars the industry has ever seen.

He had win after his win under his belt, and the second he partnered with Uraume it was a match made in heaven.

He was insanely good, and with Uraume by his side, he was now unstoppable.

You were provided tickets to any of his fights, accompanied with private transportation and accommodation if necessary. Sukuna always made sure that you were well take care of, and you always accepted because it was the only time you were able to actually see him. Those few days were precious together, before you had to depart and return to the real world once again. Each of Sukuna’s fights was a mesmerizing experience. There was something about his flow in the ring that managed to make everything else around him blur.

He was strong, but agile.

Brutal but swift with his movements.

He moved with regal precision, a dancer that understood the rhythms of strength.

Everyone challenged him, but all of them failed.

Ryomen Sukuna was a force to be reckoned with.

Despite the distance, you and Sukuna always made a conscious effort at keeping in touch with each other. You may not be physically there in each other’s presence, but not a day went by without a phone call or multiple texts.

At twenty-seven, Sukuna was at the peak of his stardom. Your best friend found himself tangled between the world of fame and fortune, alongside his old life of normalcy and humble peace. He made good on his promises; setting up a trust fund to ensure that Yuji was well taken care of in every capacity. He paid off all your loans in secret because he knew you would never accept it from him upfront. He bought his grandfather a home in Osaka for him to retire to. And his peace offering to his mom was renovating their old, broken home into something new and vibrant for her to live her life happily now that she seemed to have finally settled down in her third marriage. Sukuna even offered to take care of his step brother, Choso. They may not have been personally close, but he was grateful that Choso was keeping a watchful eye on Yuji.

Your own life was starting to unfurl as well - you had graduated university, were experiencing your first serious relationship, navigating various friendships and landing your first job. It all felt normal compared to Sukuna, but the man never minimized your experiences.

When you were together, it’s like nothing had even changed, but the moment your realities bled into each other, it was a constant reminder of how just how far apart your lives actually were.

You were harassed by the paparazzi who constantly overstepped.

Sukuna’s boundaries were crossed by the people you knew because everyone wanted a moment with the star.

You found yourself in environments with the rich whose beauty, wealth and status seemed far out of your reach.

Sukuna found himself being treated more like an object than a person.

And yet, you both seemed to be settling down into your own versions of the life you were creating - always weaving the other person in no matter the obstacle.

At twenty-eight, Sukuna had earned more money than he could even imagine, and was still somehow only moving onwards and up. He was plastered on every magazine cover, was the the center of attention on social media by his most dedicated and loyal fans. He was stalked and obsessed over, admired and feared. Networks wanted to feature him on shows, movies and every talk show. The man was a composition of everything that people were projecting onto him.

He had become an untouchable to the eyes of every living mortal.

But to you, and just you - he would always be the little boy who was far too small for this big world.

After years of flings with influencers, models, and high end socialites - it seemed that Sukuna was finally settling down with one of the top actresses in the industry. The moment the two of them were caught kissing at a party, their secret was revealed to the public.

You, however, knew all the details of the ways in which Sukuna was slowly wooing her.

At this point you’ve both grown tolerant of hearing about the other person’s love life. And at this time especially, you weren’t affected by Sukuna’s first serious relationship because you and your boyfriend were discussing the possibility of marriage which felt close on the horizon. You had just bought your first house, and was considering the big gesture of having him move in with you. You had gotten an incredible promotion at work, and for the first time you felt a sense of stability that you had never really experienced before.

“We should have dinner together!” You offered one night to Sukuna over the phone.

“The four of us?” He questioned.

“Yeah, I mean…you know Sousuke really well…”

“Yeah, and he hates me…”

“But I haven’t met Mei yet…and no, Sousuke doesn’t “hate you”…”

“I hate to break it to you, Princess. But the guy can’t stand me…”

You glanced towards your boyfriend who was sitting on the sofa, his attention on the television show he was watching. You stepped away from the living room, and quietly made your way to the bedroom.

“’kuna…” you spoke, your throat catching, “I think…I think he might propose…”

“What?!” He exclaimed and you had to pull the phone away.

“Jeez! Don’t shout! You’re going to make me pop an ear drum!”

He groaned.

You sighed, “we’ve been talking about it…and I just…I just really want you guys to get along is all. I just think you guys are just not seeing eye to eye…”

Sukuna remained oddly quiet on the phone.

“Can you say something?” You begged.

“Fine,” he grumbled, “we can do dinner at my place. The paparazzi have been hounding me trying to get any shot they can find of me and Mei. I would rather we don't go anywhere public...”

You smiled, “dinner is perfect!”

At first glance, the dinner seemed like a complete success.

The four of you chatted and enjoyed your night like you were all old friends, especially after Sousuke got over his starstruck moment when he met Mei. You and Sukuna told stories of your years together, inviting your partners to the pieces of your lives that you both shared. You could see that Sukuna was clearly attracted to Mei, and in turn he could see that you were happy with Sousuke. The night felt like a convergence without an implosion - an easy going settlement on the two roads that you and your friend had taken.

That’s why when your boyfriend called things off with you three months later, it took you completely by surprise.

Nothing in this world could have prepared you for that heartbreak.

It was a grieving period, a dark time of mourning that had you glued to your bed most days. This life that you had been carefully piecing together toppled like dominos. After breaking the news to Sukuna, you spent two weeks isolating yourself from anything and everything else.

Your best friend couldn’t stand seeing you in this state, and showed up at your door out of the blue one evening.

You burst into tears at the sight of him.

He was there to mend your broken heart, and he never left your side. He told his team that he was taking a much needed break, and during that time made sure that you were fed and comfortable. He handled any extra chores, slept on the floor in your bedroom every night so that you weren’t alone. He spent hours with you in silence while you wept, listened to you angrily vent your frustrations on how your ex could treat you this way.

One night, he woke up and realized that you weren’t in bed. He searched for you, finding you in the kitchen staring at a small pile of bridal magazines.

Your clothes were rumpled, you hadn’t changed or freshened up since that morning.

Sukuna didn’t say anything, just placed two hands on your shoulders and turn you away from the painful memories.

You gasped and hiccuped into his chest.

“I couldn’t sleep…” you explained, “I r-remembered that I still had these, and just…just wanted them gone…”

Sukuna tenderly stroked the back of your neck. “You know,” he said, his voice deeper than the ocean itself, the tone the texture of velvet. “I can always break his fucking legs…”

The comment made you choke out a laugh.

“It’ll ruin your career,” you whimpered. “It’s not worth it…”

“For you,” he soothed, his thumb lightly tracing the space where the base of your neck and spine connected. “It’s always worth it”

₊ ⊹ .

The blunder in Sukuna’s career hit early last year, when his relationship with Mei fell apart and resulted in one of the worst break ups that people have ever seen. Mei released a public, viral video that had millions of views and thousands of shares. She accused Sukuna of cheating for the entirety of their two year relationship, crying crocodile tears on camera over how she was simply another trophy that he could successfully claim while his heart always belonged to someone else.

That video made your blood boil.

You knew Sukuna wasn’t perfect - but if there was one thing you would never doubt about that man it was his loyalty.

You saw it towards grandfather, to Yuji, to Uraume, and even yourself.

That man scoffed at the prospect of cheating, believing it to be a cowardice act.

And Sukuna was no coward.

Even in prior relationships, he was always clear about where he stood. If he couldn’t commit to something, he made it perfectly known. You still didn’t know what it was about Mei that had him finally let his walls down. But when they were together, he looked perfectly content. Every desire and every fantasy he dreamt up in his youth had finally been accomplished. But all you knew about their break up was that things weren’t working out, and Sukuna wasn’t willing to share more than that.

You were being respectful of his privacy, understanding firsthand how tough this kind of heartbreak can be.

He called you when the Mei's video first broke out, his voice strained.

“You know it’s not true, right?” He questioned before even saying hello.

“Ryo, of course I know that-”

“I’m not a little bitch who would cheat. I would never do that. Nor am I that fucking stupid thinking I would ever get away with it-”

“I know…” you reassured, hearing the apprehension laced through his words. “Ryomen, I know you. I know you better than anyone else in this world.”

He breathed a long sigh of relief. “I was just wondering if you might have been convinced otherwise”

Your stomach tightened.

“But if you believe me, then I don’t give a fuck about anyone else.”

Something about that conversation clung onto you, it sat like a weight on your shoulders that you couldn’t quite possibly shrug off. The tabloids, news outlets and social media accounts were throwing ingredients upon ingredients into the rumor pot that was bubbling and boiling over. On top of that, a new rising star had just entered the boxing world, and Sukuna was suddenly dealing with brutal comparisons to the younger, hotter talent that was Satoru Gojo.

You were the one who offered to take him out to dinner to get his mind off of things, not realizing just how bad it actually was for him.

When a gossip magazine posted the photos of you both huddled together (as you have done many times before) while having an ordinary dinner, it spun your world inside and out. Though the pictures were quite blurry, there were a few people who were able to recognize you. You were being harassed at your work, interrogated by your friends and were even being accused of being “the other woman”.

The worst part is was when Mei fed into the chaos, making a follow up post and stating that “a woman always knows, and is always right” in regards to her break up situation with Sukuna.

She may not have explicitly said it, but her fingers were pointing at you.

You don’t know how your address got leaked, but when you started finding paparazzi stalking you in your own home it became far too much for you to handle.

Sukuna, on the other hand, was infuriated.

This whole time he was disengaged by what was going on, but once you were caught in the mix of this mess, it seemed that he was suddenly ready to cause equal destruction.

He sued his ex for defamation, sued multiple media outlets for harassment. He had Higuruma Hiromi, one of the top lawyers in his field, at the helm of this take down, and the second he shot back, it had everyone scurrying in retreat.

The tabloids, blogs and magazines all redacted the photos of you, reducing your digital footprint.

His ex, under pressure of Sukuna’s threats, came out with a public apology so that he would drop the charges against her and help her avoid her own PR nightmare.

The rest of Sukuna’s anger was taken out on the ring, with people seeing another side of what The King could unleash.

His match against Hajime Kashimo was one of the bloodiest in boxing history, his opponent left crimson and defeated despite seemingly holding a strong front in the beginning.

They dubbed him: “The Monster of The Ring” after that.

The damage was already done, and the stress of it all was starting to hurt Sukuna’s focus. When he nearly got disqualified in a match, that is when Uraume intervened, and felt it was necessary to include you in the discussion.

You’ve always had a complicated relationship with Uraume. They respected you, but you know it’s only because of your mutual relationship with Sukuna. Uraume, however, has made snide remarks towards you when you were both alone - about how you were merely a distraction when dangled in front of his champion’s eyes.

“I think some time apart would do you both good,” they said. “They are never going to stop hounding you because they think there is something more going on, and besides…we can’t have Sukuna fucking up with Gojo now in the mix. We need to show the world that he’s still as strong and as relevant as ever…”

“It’ll die down,” Sukuna stated with frustration.

The both of them bickered over it. It was the first time you have ever witnessed them in a heated exchanged. Your heart started to hurt because you were aware how all of this was only making your best friend see in shades of red.

He wasn’t himself.

He wasn’t thinking clearly.

This was impacting him.

You getting involved in this was impacting him.

“Ryomen,” you said seriously, placing your hand over his. “I think Uraume is right…”

The man turned to you, his fingers lacing between your own subconsciously as he squeezed it tightly in disbelief.

It was the first time you’ve ever seen him hurt.

“It’s just a short time apart,” you said with a comforting smile, “once everyone gets bored we can resume our lives in peace. But right now, I can see this taking a toll on you…”

He furrowed the front of his brows.

“Uraume is looking out for you, and I think what they are saying makes sense. Don’t you?”

“No, I fucking don’t…” he snapped, his eyes glaring at his manager who remained stoic as ever.

“Don’t let your emotions get the better of you,” they remarked, “I know a part of you agrees with what I have to say.”

“You’re not in the right state of mind, and you need to be”

“It’s for your own good,” Uraume insisted. "You are gambling with your career. With your legacy"

The decision was mutual but entirely heartbreaking all the same. Sukuna drew the circus away, and it broke you when you realized that in order to protect you, he had to sacrifice something in return.

The comfort of your friendship, the sanctuary of your company.

It was the price of fame, and one that he was willing to keep paying.

As a result of this tough decision, Sukuna had grown cold. Not because he was being mean or cruel, but because he thought he was offering you some peace of mind. Because he thought that by withdrawing from you, it would make the pain of the separation easier. He wanted this distance to be a clean break for the both of you, and while he honored keeping in touch, it was just at the bare minimum because his calls and texts were few and far between.

The most you saw of him was on a screen, and you could see that Sukuna was miserable.

He was turning into something vicious in the ring, a violent machine that people glorified. He wasn’t moving with the fluidity of an artist that you used to admire when you first started watching him fight. There was a sense of brutality that was now a part of his make up.

Sukuna was no longer a man, he was a beast.

His persona was dwindling into only intimidation. Every interview, every guest appearance, and every social occasion was met with detachments or disinterest. He was growing snarky and irritable, no longer willing to charm the people around him.

Satoru Gojo was the first to shoot at Sukuna with his words, dredging up his painful break up and even dragging you back into the fold with his commentary. The two of them grew to have a very intense rivalry. They exchanged heated arguments on social media, smack talked the other person in live interviews and had tense interactions in public.

The press and the people were eating up every single second of it.

On the eve of his thirty-first birthday, you received a call from Uraume.

“We are back in the city,” they said, “Sukuna needs to start training up for his match against Satoru Gojo.”

You swallowed the uncomfortable lump in your throat.

“Why didn’t he tell me he was back?” You asked softly.

Uraume sighed, “I don’t have to tell you that he’s been in a fowl mood. The agency is throwing a huge birthday party for him tonight which he is refusing to attend…”

“So, why are you calling me?”

“Because…” Uraume sighed, “he’s about to fly to close to the sun, and I can see he needs an anchor to bring him down to Earth a little bit…”

Your cheeks burned at the statement. “Are you saying I am his anchor?”

“I am saying it’s been almost a year since he last saw you…” Uraume explained, “And I don’t want him feeling awful on his birthday. I care about him too, you know?”

You nodded your head, “No, of course. I know that.”

“I told him that I would stop by to pick him up for the party, but I think giving him a nice surprise might do him so good. Remind the guy to enjoy himself a little…”

“You’re sweet,” you said with a smile.

“As are you, my dear,” Uraume replied tenderly.

“My, my, are you actually giving me a compliment?”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” they remarked playfully, and you felt a hint of ease realizing that things might not be as cold between you both as you thought.

That Uraume was really only ever considering Sukuna's well being first, just like you.

₊ ⊹ .

Uraume made sure that you got to Sukuna’s place in one piece and without anyone knowing that you were even there. You clasped your best friend's present between your fingers, your exposed body shivering from the cold air as you rode the elevator up to his penthouse apartment.

It felt right to dress up; you wore a white mini dress with a mesh overlay that had little embroidered detailing on the fabric. There were cut outs in the back, with an adjustable strap from behind cinching the bodice perfectly to your shape. Your kitten heels clicked against the floor, the nerves suddenly tingling their way up your legs as you thought about what Sukuna’s reaction might even be.

This year felt like a century in the timeline of your friendship.

You knocked on his door gently, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

You could hear the trudge of footsteps from behind the frame, Sukuna’s voice bellowing as he spoke.

“Uraume, for the last fucking time, I told you I am not going, and if you force it I will fire you on the spot-”

He swung the door open and froze.

“Surprise!” You squeaked lightly, awkwardly lifting the gift in your hands. “I got you a present!”

Sukuna blinked once and then twice, his lips parting as if he’s seen a ghost.

“Uraume asked me to come,” you explained. “They told me that you guys were back…”

He stood there dumbfounded, for once rendered completely speechless.

You cleared your throat, feeling a warmth rippling over your skin as the man gave you a once over. His eyes flickered down your body, hovering over all the parts of your exposed skin. Your bare thighs, your décolletage, and up the nape of your neck.

“T-they wanted you to have fun on your birthday,” you added on with an apprehensive grin, “they actually suggested maybe a quiet night in and thought you might just want to spend it with an old friend instead of a bunch of people you probably don’t even like…”

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed, his mouth pressing into a firm line.

He looked…upset.

Was he not happy to see you?

“Uhm,” you mumbled, your fingers toying with the ribbon at the odd dismissal and lack of enthusiasm, “I-I don’t have to stay, but I did just want to wish you a happy birthday…”

You took a small step forward, holding the present up as an offering. “Happy birthday, ‘Kuna…” you said with a quiet warble in your voice and feeling like a complete idiot for showing up. The disappointment of his response sat heavily on your chest.

He lifted his hand, gripping the present as he plucked it out of your grasp. You cleared your throat, anxiously scratching the back of your ear as you lifted up the strap of your dress which fell on your right shoulder.

“I’ll just…” you added on in defeat, gesturing behind you to indicate that you were leaving.

You didn’t even notice his arm sling behind your waist when your eyes fell downcast.

Suddenly you were pulled over the threshold, the door closing behind you in a bang before your back was pressed up against the wooden frame. Your gaze lifted up to Sukuna, your pupils widening when you you were met with his menacing stare.

“You know,” you said with a gulp, hoping to the ease the tension as you tried to catch your breath. “You really do look like a dragon when you scowl like that…”

“Are you stupid?” He spat with irritation. “What if someone saw you come over? We just got the press off our backs…”

Your pulse hit the base of your throat. “Uraume ensured that no one was around…”

“I thought we agreed to take time apart…” he argued, ignoring your words. “You agreed.”

“You’re mad...” You pointed out, the tip of your nose wincing as you pursed your lips.

“I’m not mad, I’m furious…” he said with irritation. “I’m trying to keep you out of this fucking chaos and you just waltz in, in this sorry excuse of a dress, like everything is perfectly fine?!”

You looked down at your outfit, and folded your arms over your chest.

“I…” you spoke, your voice trailing off as your shoulders slumped.

You didn’t even know if you should apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong and this wasn’t even your idea to begin with. You’ve also never seen Sukuna speak to you this way before, and your confidence bubbled when you recognized that this...wasn’t him.

You straightened your back, tilting your chin up to face him with defiance.

You’re the only person in the world who willingly challenges him.

You don’t even have to raise a fist to watch him break.

He was pushing you away, the same way he did when you found him on the ground of that kindergarten because that’s what Sukuna does when he’s hurting the most.

“God, you’re just as miserable as look…” you pointed out with a quirk of your brow.

His jaw twitched.

“I don’t give a shit who catches me here,” you boldly claimed, “I miss my best friend…” you added before shoving his shoulder, “and you, you asshole, have no excuse for not telling me that you are back home. Just because I agreed to us spending some time apart, that doesn’t mean you get to just...cut me off like that. To not call me, to barely answer my texts, and to just push me away like I don’t matter to you…”

Sukuna winced, taking a step closer to seal the gap of space between you both. He brought his head lower, dipping his forehead to press against your own. Your spine seized in that moment, your lips parting feeling the heat of his breath on your skin.

You were expecting a rebuttal, but this…this wasn’t what you thought would happen.

“You are a pain in my ass…” he whispered, closing his eyes as he circled his free arm around your waist, “and the only thing that matters to me…”

He nudged his face closer, so close you swore to yourself that he might kiss you, before tracking his lips along your jaw and cradling his forehead in the crook of your neck instead.

Your right hand moved him to touch his shoulder, your face contorting with a hint of concern.

You felt it then, something wet on your skin where his forehead lay, and you took in a sharp breath as Sukuna tightened his arm around your waist.

“You shouldn’t have come…” he took a deep inhale against your neck, smelling your skin before clearing his throat from any shakiness.

“You said that already…” you grumbled unamused.

“Stubborn woman, you never listen...” he breathed in once more, “God, I fucking missed you.”

₊ ⊹ .

Sukuna opened his present once everything was settled, and once he finally embraced the reunion without questioning any other factors. He laughed at your little DIY stress kit that you put together for him. You both ordered in pizza, sitting on opposite sides of the sofa with the open cardboard box between you. You talked, and talked, and talked into the late hours of the night. Until there were only crumbs on the bottom of the box which Sukuna placed on the coffee table. The bottle of champagne that you have both been nursing was nearly empty.

Drunk on each other, with a belly full of food and simplistic joy settling in. Sukuna leaned against the arm rest, sprawling his long legs and patting his thigh sweetly.

“C’mere…”

Your heart hammered, and you bit the rim of your champagne glass before obliging.

You stood up, swaying a little and watching his hungry eyes blatantly check you out as you sat on his lap. Sukuna adjusted his position, before dropping his palm on your thigh, his touch stroking up and down your skin.

“What’s going on with you?” You inquired, placing your elbow on his shoulder as you rested your warm cheek against your palm.

You were looking at him with concern, noticing his face sink.

He rubbed one hand over the exhausted expression, an intoxicated blush painting his cheeks.

“The press are worse than ever. After Mei, it’s been…relentless. The stories they are coming up with, the things that they are saying about me. I went from being on top of the world to being the guy everyone loves to fucking hate. And with every fight I go into, people are just waiting for me to wash up. The cherry on top of this whole fucking thing is Satoru Gojo, who won’t stop running his fucking mouth. I want cut the little shit in half…”

You smiled, not to be condescending, but out of gratitude that you both easily slipped back into the shell of your own comfort. “Ryomen, he’s twenty-one years old. Do you not remember how you were at that age?”

He rolled his eyes. “I had more class than he did…”

“But you were aggressive,” you reminded, “You weren’t afraid to tear down the legends that predated you.”

“So, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that maybe Satoru drew inspiration from somewhere…”

You placed the champagne glass on his chest, your fingers holding the stem as you swirled the liquid around gently. The silence hung in the air because Sukuna knew you were right, but there were other lingering questions pressing you at the same time. And thanks to the alcohol, you had all the courage you needed to ask.

“What happened with Mei?” You wondered, shifting your gaze to meet his.

Sukuna’s index finger tapped up and down your thigh in contemplation.

He closed his eyes and shook his head before swallowing the lump in his throat. “Nothing.”

You quirked your brow again, taking a swig of your champagne.

Sukuna used his free hands to wrap around your own, and he pulled the glass away from you to take a sip himself.

“Why won’t you tell me?”

He chugged the rest of your drink, and placed it on the ground beside him.

“Ryomen…”

“Don’t push me, brat…”

“But why not?” You wondered, “I just…it just seemed like you both were so happy and then all of a sudden…”

He dropped his head back against the arm rest and stared up at the ceiling. From underneath his black shirt you saw the silver chain poking through.

Your heart tightened.

You drew one hand on the locket, your finger curling underneath as your thumb tracked over the texture of the necklace.

“You’re still wearing it…” you mumbled.

Sukuna faced you. “I never take it off. Only when I have to get in the ring…” His eyes shifted to your exposed, naked neck, and you mindlessly reached for the silver chain that you were currently not wearing.

“I don’t wear it on certain occasions…” you explained guiltily, “only because I am afraid that I might lose it.”

“Plus, it wouldn’t go with this dress...” Sukuna nonchalantly added on and you laughed at his comment.

He sighed in defeat. “The necklace was a small reason,” he opened up. “Mei hated that I wore it all the time. She would badger me about taking it off. The time I spent with you after Sousuke didn’t help…” he added, treading the delicate topic with as much sensitivity as he could, “she accused me for cheating. I told her she needed to back off because you and I had a history that predates her. I told her that if the roles were reversed, you would be there for me because you have always been there for me…”

Your body froze.

“She would pick fights with me over everything about you. Finally I had enough, and told her she needed to fucking trust me if this was going to work. But things never went back to the way they used to. It was always up and down with Mei. Finally, when she had enough, she told me that I had a choice to make. Either I cut you off for us to happily together. Or…she leaves…”

You sat up, staring at him with wide eyes and shock.

“I’m…” you gasped, “I’m the reason why you both broke up?”

The guilt struck you harder than you expected, and you looked down at Sukuna’s torso shamefully as you recalled the state of yourself post-break up, thinking of all the moments where you might have potentially stolen precious time away from his former lover.

“Ryomen, I am so…I am so sorry…”

Two fingers brushed underneath your chin, and Sukuna lifted your head so you could see him.

“I picked you,” he confessed, “I picked you.”

“But-”

“There is no “but”,” he said with a shake of his. “We’ve been in each other’s lives for over two decades. You are my person. You are my family. You…”, he sighed, “you didn’t deserve what happened afterwards...”

His hands trailed up until his digits caught the hem of your dress.

“I’m keeping my distance to protect you..."

“But you loved her,” you gasped, “I saw it. I saw you both. I would’ve…I would’ve stepped aside. If I was causing any issues, I would’ve…respected your boundaries. I love you, Ryomen. I just want you to be happy, and if that means that I take a step back-”

“I did love her,” Sukuna interjected, the heat of gaze flicking upward, the rims slightly red from the alcohol he consumed. “But I love you more…”

He drew all the air out of your lungs with the slip of his tongue, making you perch yourself up so you were actually looking directly at him. His pupils were dilated, widening as if to give you access to the depths of his soul. In all your years you’ve known him, you don’t think the two of you ever actually exchanged those words. It was always veiled with “I care for you,”, “I adore you,” “You’re my person,” and “this is why we are best friends.”

But love…

That felt forbidden to say out loud, even though you both knew that the root of your friendship was only built on love, it shouldn't have come as such a shock to you for the confession to slip so naturally.

You gaze longingly into each other’s eyes, in a way that you haven’t since you were both sixteen years old.

Wondering…

Considering…

“I don’t…” you said quietly, sitting upright as he shifted beneath you.

You wound up straddling him, both your hands resting on his shoulders while his own continued to tease the hem of your dress.

“I don’t know what to say…” you exhaled.

Sukuna pinched the fabric between his thumb and index finger, allowing the silence to hang for a few minutes before switching the subject.

“Did you dress up for me?” He joked, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his devilish mouth. He slid one hand underneath your dress, making you gasp as his touch moved dangerously high up your thigh.

“Wanted to look cute,” you murmured, your words lacing tightly together as the champagne danced across your tongue. You felt a pulse radiate between your legs, and you unknowingly clenched much to Sukuna’s amusement.

“Cute for me?” He coaxed.

“Cute in general,” you remarked.

His other hand sprawled across your back, and you knew he was testing his boundaries.

“Ryomen…” you warned, but it only made him break out into a full grin. His irises were drowning in lust and inebriation, and your own were falling in suit.

The hand on your hip dragged up further, until his fingers brushed over the string of your underwear. You scratched your nails down his chest, feeling your back arch into his palm as you mindlessly rolled your hips.

His lips moved to your ear, that mellifluous voice dangerously close. “Let’s play a game…”

He squeezed the fat of your hip, his weight lifting you up and the entire room spun as he pinned you underneath him when he switched your positions. He locked you against the plush sofa with his thighs, a throaty laugh coming through from your sudden squeak of surprise.

“Let’s see you try to get out of this one, Princess...” He teased, his teeth nipping at the side of your throat. “Or you’ll end up being my dinner…”

Your body vibrated from the sensation of his touch. You gripped his jaw firmly and pulled his face towards you, your brows furrowing at the proclamation of a challenge.

“It’s not fair to go against a boxing champion,” you argued, your spine curving as Sukuna slipped his other thigh between your legs.

He dropped his head to the base of your throat, his teeth catching the sensitive spot just above your collar bone, “don’t worry,” he soothed over the gentle bite, “I’ll play fair…”

“Don’t patronize me,” you grumbled through gritted teeth.

“You’re fault for waltzing into the dragon’s lair…” he alerted, quoting the very same line he used to when you would both play this silly fantasy game together.

But you’re not wielding plastic swords and entering into the enemies domain with a sense of courage. Now, it felt like playing with fire. Your skin was burning at the contact, at Sukuna’s weight over your throbbing body. When he nibbled on your neck again, your hand gripped onto the back of his head, tugging his hair a little roughly as you pulled him away.

Sukuna purred.

“You’ve never been able to beat me…” you teased, giving into the world of make believe just one more time but speaking the truth regarding this fact. “I’ve always been your biggest challenge…”

“Watch me win tonight,” he pushed with confidence, reaching for your wrist and pinning it above your head.

“And what are the rules here exactly?” You quipped, your tongue tingling and your body buzzing with excitement and curiosity. “Am I supposed to kill the dragon and win back my castle?”

Sukuna laughed, his eyes darkening as he pressed his forehead to yours once more.

“No need to draw any swords. Let’s play a game of submission…” he boldly claimed, and your attention flickered to find his brazen smile burning even brighter on his face. “First person to cum loses”

“Are you making a move on me?” You light heartedly disputed.

“Not at all,” Sukuna maintained, but you can tell from his tone that he’s veiling the truth.

There was something hard pressing up against you, and you had a feeling it was a nudge for some relief.

“It’s the dress isn’t it?” you giggle.

“If you even call it a dress…”

“Can’t handle a little skin?”

“I don’t want to shock you by telling you got me half hard just showing up,” he confessed, something unfolding in your drunken stupor.

“I can feel you…” you sighed, and the man hummed as he molded his body into you.

You felt him twitch, and it made your thighs tremble.

“We had too much champagne,” you informed.

“That we did”

“We should probably stop…” you exhaled, your lashes fluttering when you felt his thigh flex against your cunt.

“Do you want to?” Sukuna asks, his voice growing serious. His hand on your hip tugs at the string of your underwear, and he releases it with a snap as it pinches back against your skin.

You licked your lips, your brain too fuzzy to contradict what your heart wanted. “You know I will never back down from a challenge with you…”

“That's what I like about you,” Sukuna adoringly praises.

“And we both know you’re going to lose, right?”

Your throat shrinks, Sukuna’s hand gliding over your pubis to press the drenched spot against your underwear.

“Don’t underestimate me, Princess,” he advices ominously, “we’ve never played a game like this before.”

₊ ⊹ .

Clothes had to stay on - that was the rule you both agreed with.

To keep things fair.

To keep it…playful.

Your nipples pebbled, poking hard against the fabric of your dress as Sukuna sucked on the skin of your neck. You knew for a fact that he was leaving a mark there, and all you could do was bite back as his mouth trailed down the column and over the slope of your breast. You whimpered when he tugged at your clothed nipple with with his teeth, making the muscles in your leg seize from the sudden contact.

You had to do something, and so you reached your hand between your legs to lightly graze over his erection pressing against his sweats.

Sukuna groaned, and you sniggered at the reaction.

You lifted your head and neck, bringing your mouth to his own ear.

“You know,” you seductively stated, your fingers outlining the length of his hard member. “The first time I ever touched myself was after watching you practice in the ring…”

Sukuna cursed under his breath, your fingers squeezed around his length. You proceeded to stroke the heat of his member, striking hard for your first blow. “And I always do whenever I watch you fight. I get so hot and bothered seeing you in the ring. I even have a a specific vibrator I use…I named it after you…”

“Fucking hell,” he hissed when you snuck your hand underneath his waistband, bringing your touch even closer as you palmed him over his boxers.

“I’ve never told you that secret…” you declared, bringing your own teeth to his earlobe which you tugged mercilessly.

Sukuna lost himself for a moment, making you think this was going to be an easy win. But you heard him steady his breathing, could his muscles flexing as if to tame his own body back from giving in.

“I heard you once…” he stammered suddenly, closing his eyes as he recollected his memories. “Back when you were living in the dorm. I came over to drop off something, and you…ugh, fuck-…you were in the bathroom…moaning. I thought you were in pain at first, until I realized…”

Your own cheeks burned at his confession, the surprise making you ease your grip.

Sukuna grabbed your wrist then and pulled you away from his crotch. He placed it on your breast, and you absentmindedly pinched your nipple as he slid his hand between your legs. He lowered himself down, slithering underneath you and making your ears sting with vexation. He pushed your dress over your thighs, exposing your light colored underwear. The noticeable wet patch made his eyes glitter with satisfaction.

“I would have jacked off on the spot, but I left. I was clearly intruding on a private matter, but that didn’t stop me from blowing a load the second I made it to my place,” he carries on, bringing his nose and pressing it against your slit. “So fucking sweet…”

You tried to push his head away, and in response he dragged his tongue over the moist patch on your underwear.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, your hips bucking from the sensation.

“You’re the first person I think of when I touch myself,” he revealed, humming as his tongue lewdly licked over your underwear.

Your whole lower belly tingled, your arousal only slicking the fabric.

You needed to distract him from carrying on, but Sukuna hooked two fingers underneath your underwear and tugged them to the side.

You sat up on your forearms, pressing your thighs against his cheeks to stop him from diving in.

“Don’t cheat,” you sternly addressed, but Sukuna only scoffed vindictively.

“You’re still wearing them, Princess…” he pointed out, and the loophole made your core pulse with anticipation. “This isn’t cheating…”

With your panties tugged aside, Sukuna used two fingers to spread the lips apart.

He was staring at your pussy, studying it like it was the first one he’s ever looked at.

You wanted to say something, to ask what he was doing. But to your surprise he just placed a gentle kiss on your clit before murmuring sweetly into your sex. “You’re beautiful,” Sukuna complimented, as if expressing a blessing before a meal then finally dragging his wet tongue up along the slit of your exposed pussy.

“You’re ch-cheating…” was all you could think of blubbering out in the haze of lust, feeling the vibration of his laugh as he slung one of your legs over his shoulder.

It hits you then - the fact that this man indulges in going down on women. Though he never explicitly shared all the lewd details with his past partners, he did mention how it was “his favorite thing to do”. After all these years, you finally get to experience it for yourself. Feel how he latches onto your pussy as your arousal drips like he’s pouring honey out of the jar and slurping the sticky, creamy essence. You whine when he prods his tongue between your folds, expertly sliding the muscle as he rolls it in gentle waves to stir a budding orgasm. Your fingers intertwine around his locks, reading to yank him off until he slurps and sucks in just the right spot that has you simply massaging his scalp instead.

“…’kuna~…” you mewl, your nails dragging over his scalp.

The man circles his mouth over your tender clit, sucking on the bud before pressing another kiss on the nub.

Your pussy throbs when he pulls away, but you were proud for holding back.

It was your opportunity to distract him, and you shrugged off one of your straps to pull down your dress to expose your left breast. Sukuna’s attention flickered upward, watching you tweak at the hard nub as you gave him a shy grin.

“The felt really good,” you breathily whined.

He began crawling his way back up, and you used this opportunity to lift your body upright. He was distracted, wasn't even thinking about you finding a way out of this position. His lips instantly latched onto your nipple, his hands gripping the fat of your ass as he sucked on the point feverishly.

You licked your lips, doing everything in your power not to fall back into the black hole of his gripping dominance.

When he released you, you instantly pushed his back against the couch and climbed on top of him so you were safely straddling him again. You forcefully dragged your wet cunt over his erection, leaving a little trail of you to stain the fabric of his pants. Sukuna grunted with pleasure, bucking his hips as you ground yours.

“You’re not as sharp with me,” you giggled, languidly gliding your cunt over his begging member.

“Because you’re fucking distracting,” Sukuna grieves, his hands clenching into tight balls by his side as he refuses to grab onto your ass and push for more friction.

You felt him sink, using his shoulders as leverage to keep you perched in just the right position so your pussy was rubbing over his cock. You bit back a sound of pleasure from leaving you, and instead exhale softly as you continue rocking back and forth.

“You’re big everywhere aren’t you,” you tantalized, noting the way his jaw tense as a rumble erupted from his chest in a deep groan which morphed into a slightly sinister laugh.

“Let me show you.”

He lifted his hips, making you pause at the sudden awkward shift. He pushed his sweat pants down just to meet the end of his boxers. The removal of the first layer was a small relief, but your eyes widened as he settled back down. His erection was tenting, pressing up against the thin black material and making you see a clear distinction of his balls and thick shaft.

“Go on then,” he tempted.

Your could feel yourself getting wet. The tightness in your belly only contracting further.

You stared him down, knowing full well that he was manipulating you at that very moment.

“Why stop there?” You rebutted.

You helped pulled out the weight of his heavy cock from the restraint, watching his length smack against his lower belly as the tip dribbled with cum. Sukuna moaned when your thumb pressed against the slit, your touch dragging back and forth as you aligned yourself.

The sounds of your panting breaths were far too loud in this quiet room. You hesitated for a minute before lowering yourself, pressing the fat tip at your entrance. You gulped down air from the stretch alone, your arousal enough lubricant for your take him. You sank, your attention on Sukuna’s whose eyes were honed in on the point of contact of your sexes.

When your pelvis finally kiss his own, when your bodies were merged into one, you felt two hands seek your waist as you trembled in his arms.

Your dress had fallen back over, covering him buried inside you. You were looking up at him now as his chest rose to press yours.

A puzzle piece finally connecting.

He twitched inside you, and you clenched around his length, but neither of you moved. You forgot, for a moment, that this was just a game. That the two of you were probably going to wake up tomorrow morning not being able to face the other person. Your heart was racing, your body begging for movement but you couldn’t snap yourself out of the bold decision you already made.

Sukuna was looking deep into our eyes, the sparkle behind his own irises making you think of embers on winter night.

His hands slipped up your waist, over the curves of your breast and up on the length of your neck. He held your head between his palms, the tips of his thumbs lightly caressing your cheeks, with his fingers to the back of your neck. He tilted his head down slightly, his nose brushing against the bridge of yours and he did something that caught you entirely off guard.

His lips were warm on yours, the kiss the softest gesture you’ve ever experienced from him. He held a firm kiss at first, long enough until you were crumbling apart. You parted your mouth, granting him entrance and he swiped his tongue to lick the inside. He was tracing your own, his wet and wanting mouth only growing more hungry as you eagerly accepted his kiss. Your heart hammered heavily in your chest, and goosebumps peaked all over your skin when you felt his thumbs gently caress the soft skin of your cheeks.

You’ve never been kissed like this before. Never felt bursts of light erupt from behind your eyelids or your stomach explode with fireworks. This always just fun foreplay for you, but nothing that would make you quiver in heat. You almost came on the spot from this one little act that you’ve imagined since you were sixteen, the one which you thought would never occur because of an unspoken rule on boundaries. But it was finally happening, and it was far too magical for you to even comprehend.

He swallowed your moan, tasted how sweet your desire actually was. The kiss was getting heated, your walls tightening around his cock His lips wrapped around your tongue. He sucked on it, before sliding his own back over yours.

You felt so weak; were reminded that you truly were just a fragile thing in his arms and nothing more.

He pulled away, a string of saliva sticking from his lips to yours but you shook your head as you circled your hands around his wrists.

“More,” you cried desperately without thinking.

Sukuna smiled against your mouth and obliged.

You don’t know how long you both sat there making out. But every time he tried to pull you away you sighed “again,”, or moaned “don’t stop”. You didn’t even consider kissing to be an option on the table, but the more you were getting turned on the further your guard went down. Your hips started to bounce lightly, your pussy so bothered that it wanted some relief. You started fucking yourself over his length, your mouth battling with lips, teeth and tongue in a very heated stand off. Sukuna relaxed his body against the sofa, noticing you melt over him like you were wax. Your hips were moving up and down, your tongue languidly rolling around his mouth. You could feel Sukuna moving with you, bucking his hips in return. His jerks were growing sharper, his hands dropping back down to your hips to keep you in place. Your foreheads were touching, lips parting, panting heavily as you climbed and higher. The two of you were lost in the moment, forgetting everything else that led up to this.

You were going to lose this one, you thought, and you didn’t even care.

Your head was spinning, your heart bursting, and you reached to hold his jaw in your hand out of desperation, hoping that by clinging to him it meant that you wouldn’t disappear into the haze of it all. Entirely overwhelmed by the feeling, by this particular connection, your eyes started to water, with tears falling as your nose grew stuffy.

“Ryomen~” you begged, your dulcet voice full of affection. The tip of his cock hit your sweetest spot and at that point you knew you were done for.

But Sukuna jerked his hips, the groan that ripped out of him made your belly spasm. He pulled out fast, shooting his cum all over you. Your orgasm collapsed into you just seconds after, and the two of you were shaking against one another as you tried to reorient yourselves to the present.

You were a mess, and so was he.

Two hands found your thighs as your torso collided into his. You placed one hand on the base of his neck, and rested your cheek against the crook.

“You lost,” you joked with a sniffle, because you were unsure what to say, and because you realized you had just fucked your best friend and had no idea what that meant.

Sukuna just grinned, flashing you a knowing smile and a devilish smirk.

He perched your chin under his fingers, tapping the end sweetly.

“Doesn’t feel like I did,” he breathed, and your eyes glittered once more.

You arched up to kiss his cheek, “I didn’t know a dragon could kiss this well…”

Sukuna chuckled, bumping the tip of his nose to yours affectionately as he tilted his head down. “I’ve had time to practice.”

You sighed into another kiss, “What did we do, Ryomen?”

“Something we should have done a long time ago…” he responded in between.

“You love me…” you breathed.

“And you’re surprised?” He interrupted with another kiss.

“I don’t know what that means…”

He nipped at your bottom lip. “It means what it means. I love you. Fuck, enough that I nearly fucking came inside you without thinking. You haven’t been around and I feel like I've lost my goddamn mind in just a year…”

Your nails dragged down his chest your heart leaping its way up your throat.

“I love you too,” you revealed. “I love you, Ryomen. And I missed you too."

You both fell asleep on the sofa, waking up the next morning and replaying the events of your drunken stupor. After you both cleaned up and showered, you had a serious conversation over two cups of coffee. Though, you aren’t quite sure how "serious" it was, considering that Sukuna had you sitting on his lip while you were gently stroking his hair.

He revealed that the reason why he didn’t tell you about his return was also partially due to the fact that he was leaving that very night to hop on plane and fly halfway across the world. He couldn't bring himself to see you for only a short stint when he knew he needed far more time together after everything.

“Uraume is right,” he bitterly admitted, “You are a big distraction for me right now, and I have to be in the right headspace for this fight with Gojo”

“You sound worried,” you pointed out with a furrow of your brows, your hands dragging back his locks as you threaded your digits between the strands to push his hair back from his forehead.

“If he beats me then I am done,” Sukuna blurted, “what I have built will diminish into nothing. I can’t lose to him. It’ll cost me my career…”

Disappointment wrapped its arms around you just as Sukuna loosened his own grip. But you could hear the hint of tiny, tiny fear behind his words was enough to you feel hollow. Sukuna has never felt threatened, but this was a serious fight for him. He’s worked so hard for all of this, and he was not willing to give it up to some punk who just shot into the scene.

“Why don’t we revisit this after the fight then?” You offered.

He glanced at you.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." you exhaled, "what if maybe we just need to wait a little longer before we allow ourselves to have this..."

Sukuna paused for a moment. “You’d wait for me?” He asked.

A smile ticks at the corner of your mouth. “Yes, because you always come back to me”

“That I do” he responds

You brush your fingers under his chin, tilting it upward once more to receive another kiss. “I’ll wait for you,” you ensure. "Because I'll always come back to you too."

₊ ⊹ .

One hand slides into the front pocket of your denim skirt, and Sukuna rests his chin on top of your head. You smile to yourself, though he can’t see it, because he’s busy watching you slice bits of fruit as you place it into one of his ceramic bowls. When you were kids, Sukuna would have to look around your arm whenever he hugged you from behind. The years show the evolution of this gesture, from him suddenly perching over your shoulder until he could simply see over your crown.

He sighs, his other arm curling over your belly as he embraces you.

“Don’t add the blueberries,” he mumbles.

You oblige, your back leaning into the breadth of his chest.

The two of you haven’t touched one another since that faithful night.

Up until the fight, you and Sukuna simply returned back to the way things used to be. Except this time there were little alterations in your day to day conversations that indicated a shift.

For one, Sukuna was a flirt.

You were use to this commentary, but now that your friendship has taken a turn you find your cheeks growing heated more often around him because his words weren't gray. What he says toward you, and the way he compliments you rings very, very true. There is also a deep tenderness for one another that you both are finally allowing to express freely. You don't dull your affection, and instead allow it to overflow. And last of all, the longing to be back together was pathetically obvious.

You placed the strawberries, sliced peaches and peeled oranges into the bowl, your fingers a little tacky. “I need to wash my hands,” you indicate, and Sukuna begrudgingly releases you from his hold.

You’re surprised that he didn’t pounce on you so quickly.

The two of you only had one other sexual moment just a few months ago.

Sukuna video called you one evening, his face tight with frustration.

He was exhausted from training, and even more drained by the press.

They were claiming that his new “pumped physique” was due to steroid use, and one little rumor had the representatives of the boxing association hounding him like he was a real culprit in this make believe story. Suddenly, his hard work and training was being reduced to the thing that the press claimed him to be: a cheater.

He called you to ensure you that everything was alright. That he was forced to take tests which all came out negative (obviously) and and effectively proved his innocence.

“I can’t wait to be home,” he breathed with annoyance. “I’m fucking sick of this shit…”

You were in the bathroom getting ready for bed, gently patting your moisturizer onto your face. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” you stated, offering him only an apology because it's all you could give. “Is there something I can do to make you feel better?”

Sukuna arched his brow, his attention hovering in front of the screen.

“Yeah, you can take off that robe you’re wearing…” he teased.

You jerked your head to the camera in surprise, noting his cheeky tone.

“Ha-ha…” you remarked.

“I’m being serious,” he answered back, his mouth dropping into an instant frown. “I’ve had a shitty day, and I can’t even do the one thing I want to help me relax…”

You arched your brow. “And what might that be?”

He revealed his canines, a wolfish grin brightening that handsome face. “Fucking my girl...”

Your heart thumped, and you swallowed the sudden tightness in your throat. You picked up your lip balm and dabbed your finger into the ointment before gliding it over your bottom lip.

“Your girl, huh?” You reiterated casually, hoping that Sukuna wouldn’t quite pick up on the catch in your throat.

“You’re always my girl, even when you weren’t mine to call that…” he added softly, his voice pulling your attention back towards him.

He wasn’t kidding around, with the look on his face entirely serious. The tips of your ears stung with a heat that you couldn’t explain, and you just had the sudden urge to reach through the screen and pull his face back towards you.

You wanted to kiss him, to tell him that you always felt like you belonged to him too.

The two of you an inseparable pair for a reason.

Instead, you stripped down to reveal your naked form. You perched the camera towards the back for a wider shot, and allowed your body to speak to Sukuna instead. One of your legs was resting on the bathroom sink, the other grounding you on the floor. You had the camera facing your cunt, with your fingers buried deep inside. But it was nothing compared to the stretch of Sukuna’s digits, wasn’t filling you enough to reach you to the pleasurable climax you desired.

“It’s not enough,” you gasped in between breaths, watching Sukuna passionately jerk off from he other side of the screen, “Need you, ‘kuna~” you whined, “it’s not enough with you…”

The memory hits you, making your lower belly tighten.

You dry your hands off to face him, only to find the man standing with an expression of guilt on his face.

The same concern you had earlier when you left the elevator reappeared once more.

You pick up the fruit bowl from the counter, trying your best not to give the discomfort attention. You offer Sukuna a strawberry, lifting it towards his mouth but he instantly circles his hand around your wrist and pulls it back down.

“I need to tell you something,”

You scrunch your brows, and place the fruit bowl back onto the counter.

“What’s wrong?”

Sukuna closes his eyes, a look of shame washing over him.

You take a step closer, wrap both arms around his waist and rest your chin on his chest.

“What’s wrong?” You repeat, coaxing him to speak.

“I nearly threw the fight tonight.”

You jerk your head up in shock, your lips parting as your jaw falls from the confession.

“You…what?”

Sukuna rubs his tired face with one hand, using every ounce of courage to look back at you.

“There was a moment in the ring when Satoru threw a relatively decent punch,” he explains, “I had the lights knocked out of me for a split second. When I turned to face him it hit me then...that I could fake dodging his next attack before giving him the opening that he needs to win. One more hit and I’d...collapse. Let the referee do his count, and that would be it…”

You knew the exact moment he was referring to. It was the point in the match where your ears were ringing because you truly thought that you would be witnessing a loss on Sukuna's part. The entire crowd was muttering in shock, all of them on the precipice of a potential shift in legacy.

“I didn’t follow through because I think Satoru noticed a change in my demeanor. It was only a few seconds, but the kid is fucking sharp. He wasn't smugly determined then, he was looking at me with...confusion. I couldn't do it then. I didn't want him to get a cop out on my end. So, I carried on the fight the way I would. After the match, I thought I could just let the moment pass but Uraume tried to bring it up later and I shut it down because I didn't want to admit it. Anyway, I needed to just get it off my chest…”

“You were going to give him that win?” You expressed with deep concern, tightening your hold around his waist as you watched Sukuna’s face to turn hard.

It hits you then - that the Champ, The Monster of The Ring, The Beast and King Himself was…burnt out. Sukuna’s fire had been gone for quite some time, you just thought it would reignite after tonight.

But it didn't.

You bring your hands to his biceps and caress your palms up and down.

“Ryomen,” you speak, licking your lips with hesitation before finally asking. “Is this what you still want?”

Contemplative eyes meet yours as his palms find both your cheeks. He drops his head down, his lips seeking yours as he takes into account the gash on the muscle, then places a careful kiss on your mouth.

“I just want you,” he hums.

“M’right here,” you murmur back, “Not going anywhere.”

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he adds on, “that’s all I could think about during the fight. Was just coming home to you, coming home to us…”

A shiver runs down your back, but your body vibrates with an innocent excitement. “We don’t have to wait anymore,” you whisper. “I’m not going anywhere no matter what happens. No matter what comes next…”

Sukuna looks at you then, knowing full well what your statement means.

Once news breaks out of the two of you being an actual item, heaven knows what might happen. If the paparazzi have been plaguing Sukuna like a curse this whole time, it was only going to get even more complicated with you so intimately intertwined in his world. And now that he was back on top as the champion, he knew full well that all eyes were going to remain on him.

From when he was a child, no matter what he believed about his life that would deter you from him. His broken home wasn't enough to push you. His anger wasn't enough to push you. His detachment wasn't enough to push you. The chaos that is his world wasn't enough to push you.

You have always remained solidly by his side.

His constant. The only thing in the world that he can rely on.

“I love you,” he states under his breath, leaning in to peck you for a second time.

“I love you too,” you repeated with a smile against his lips.

There was no epic moment around this sober reveal, no exceptional circumstance other than the privacy of it being spoken with no one else to hear it other than the two of you.

You loved one another, in the deepest possible way you could love a person. From there your lips parted, and you carefully kissed the man before you as he scooped you up in his arms.

He repeated the phrase again when he placed you on the kitchen counter, with his fingers buried deep within the folds of your wet pussy.

You moaned it back to him after he carried you into his bedroom, with your fists tangled between his hair as he ate you out.

He grunted it out one last time, with his hand gripping the headboard as he watched your body melt into the matters when he thrusted his dick in and out of you as he made love to you feverishly.

And you mumbled it back one last time while he held you in his arms, the two of you falling asleep from a very long night of unbridled passion.

Sukuna was the first to wake at the crack of dawn. He rolled over to grab his phone from the side table in an attempt to turn off his alarm before it woke you up as well. As he looked at the device, his heart sank.

A number of notifications were blowing up his phone and it was making him feel dizzy.

News articles were already painting him in all his glory after his fight with Satoru, with his opponent looking battered in defeat. The press had finally flipped, and suddenly began to revere him the way he deserved to be. There were text messages from an influx of people, either congratulating him or wanting get his thoughts on the match. Sukuna feels the tremor in his hand build as he starts to scroll through the notifications.

He places the device on the blanket in front of him, his eyes looking out to the large windows as he watches the sky shift from a deep violet to a lilac blue. He turns this head to gaze at you. This image of you by his side, in a position that he’s seen multiple times in his life, feels different now too. The soft glow of new daylight washes over your body, and the stillness of the hour has him believing that he actually made it to heaven. Sukuna places a soft kiss on your forehead, then carefully kicks off the blankets. He searches for his boxers, then pulls on the pair before stepping out into his balcony.

He calls Uraume.

Usually they pick up quick, but Sukuna counts down the rings until they do.

“My King,” they tease, their voice a little groggy. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Sukuna watches a bird fly across the horizon, the ease in his chest an affirmation to what he’s about to say.

“I’m retiring,” he announces. “I’m done.”

The silence hangs in the air, streaks of orange and yellow begin to tint the clouds.

“I had a feeling you were going to say that…”

“is that why it took you long to answer my call?”

Uraume huffs out a laugh. “I guess I was hoping for another piece of news…”

“Are you mad?” Sukuna asks, only honoring Uraume with his worry because he knows how much they have done for him to begin with.

Uraume sighs, “I’m not actually. It’s the smartest decision you can make. You retire now and you basically leave the game while sitting at the top. You’ve earned that throne, and it won’t be easy for these rookies to take it from you so quickly…”

Sukuna chuckles, “you’re right about that…”

Uraume lets the quiet overtake the conversation. “I’ll give it a few days before I break the news to the press.”

“And then what?”

“There’s definitely going to be a lot of interviews, and a retirement party that you will have to attend wether you like it or not…”

“And what about you?”

Uraume hums, “You and I had a good run. If it’s the end for you, then I guess I can finally retire too..”

Sukna furrows his brows, his nails scratch over the rail on his balcony. “I don’t want you doing that because of me…”

Uraume laughs, “You’ve earned my loyalty, what can I say?”

“Thank you,” Sukuna breathes, “For everything you’ve done for me. You’re more than just a manager, but I think you already know that...”

“I know it,” Uraume answers back. “And I also know that this is the right decision because you sound…relieved.”

He hears you then.

You were calling out to him, “‘kuna, where are you?~”

He turns his back to face the railing, missing the sun breaking through the horizon at the sound of your voice. He smiles thinking about the adorable, frustrated look on your face when you probably reached out and couldn’t find him, and he slowly begins making his approach back into his bedroom.

“I am,” he speaks to Uraume, “I’ve got to go. Will talk about this later.”

He hangs up the phone, and returns to the shadow of deep, restful slumber. He places the phone back on his side table, and smiles at the exact disappointed expression that he pictured when he was outside.

The second you feel his warmth back in your presence, you snuggle up into his frame.

“Where did you go?” You mumble with a yawn, and Sukuna wraps his strong arms around you as he nestles back into your body.

“Nowhere,” he breathes, easing back into your embrace.

“Heard you talking,” you add on, you eyes still shut but your arm slinking around his neck to keep him close.

It’s taken you both over two decades to get here, and he wasn’t going to allow anything to come in the way of that. “I’ll tell you about it later,” he reassures, keeping his loving eyes on you as he clutches onto his bright, new future with his favorite person.

A life that you both will now get to live in peaceful happiness.

₊ ⊹ .

:note: hi, everyone! long form fics has been really draining for me these days but these one shots feel like a great refresher. I know this is a monster of a fic, but I hope you enjoy the story. comments and reblogs are appreciated!

tags (only tagging those who asked): @after-laughter-come-tears @not-9ok @axxk17 @sukubusss @lavenderdaydream97 @charlie-xo @kunasthiast @celestep004 @brownskinnedgirll @sukunasweetheart @kunascutie @joontroverted @emi311 @yuujispinkhair @starmapz @bellyei

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x y/n #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna fluff #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna #jjk fanfics

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prismaticsaltedink · 1 day ago

Text

Well when people go for YEARS only being told they're wrong and never getting an actual answer (except a guess, which they're still told is "straight up false" but still no other explanation - just take my word bruh you're still wrong) it makes it kind of hard to know the right answer. Genuinely wonder how many people struggle understanding their OWN sexuality because people just outright don't want to talk about it, and can't even take the time to point them in the direction of a credible correct answer. Seems people just want to be upset about it but not add to the solution.

My coworker asked me a question about Queer culture the other day and it was a really good question but I couldn’t think of a polite way to tell them that they didn’t have the foundational knowledge required to support full comprehension of the answer

#and it's frustrating #I really wish the lgbtq+ community were more supportive #I'm sure there are some good individuals out there #but largely I've tried talking to people within the community #even established clubs and such #and got treated like an outside when I tried to engage #Not sure if there was some sort of clique thing going on #or if I didn't match what people assume LGBTQ+ should look like #Which really you CAN'T assume but people do even within LGBTQ+#Even in strongly supportive LGBTQ+ areas like Boystown #And it fucking sucks #Not only are people who are questioning themselves having more of a struggle to understand who they are #Because you know you have a feeling but you don't know the right words to put to them #And if you don't have someone in your inner circle who knows you are just left to hope you get a credible answer on a Google Search #But imagine what it is like for people who are just curious what LGBTQ+ terms and things mean #It's confusing for them even if they WANT to be an ally #They can't even get a dang straight answer #...I didn't mean straight like that but yanno

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muffinlance · 2 days ago

Note

Some spirit manages to get the gaang and zuko a link that connects their minds. They can share thoughts and their past with each other.

Tweaking this to “and they share dreams” because that’s how I started writing it.

---

“Okay,” Sokka says, wrapping his sleeping bag around himself, and grabbing a comfort Momo, too. “Whose dream was that?”

No one ‘fesses up. But it was kind of a rude question, and also a little rhetorical, anyway.

They all have nightmares with fire.

Having the Fire Lord himself looming over them, while they were on their knees? Not exactly a stretch.

---

“Okay,” Sokka says, “how does Prince Jerkface keep finding us?”

---

“Okay,” Sokka says, “how did he know that seal jerky seasoned just right with honey—not too much, just enough to add a sparkle of sweetness to the depths of savoriness, a perfect balance for the distinguished tongue to relish—was the perfect bait for his Sokka and Sokka-affliated-parties trap?”

“Maybe if you stop dreaming about it, Sokka,” Katara snaps.

...And they all stop.

---

“I’m going to think really really hard about being friends,” Aang says.

“I’m going to think really really hard about that time my boomerang hit him,” says Sokka.

---

Snatching the boomerang out of midair? Impressive.

Ignoring the Avatar to go hit Sokka with it? Repeatedly? Uncalled for.

---

“Sokka. The city is under attack. Right now.”

“Okay,” Sokka says. “But this is a strategic nap, Katara. We need to know what evil things our Evil Other is up to.”

It’s not like the evil fleet part was a surprise, at least. They’ve been dreaming of it for weeks.

---

“Okay,” Sokka says, looking down. “So the ship-blowing-up-thing. Not a nightmare?”

“No,” says Zuko, glaring up with his glare-face all glare-ful but his thoughts mostly full of bruises so deep they’re making Sokka’s ribs ache, and also his legs are going numb.

“Going to get out of the turtle-seal tunnel now?” Sokka asks, still standing over the opening. With his boomerang.

“...No,” the Prince of the Fire Nation says, as he clings onto the edge of the hole, his legs still very much in freezing water.

---

“Okay,” Sokka says, when they have a Fire Prince all tied up in Blankets of Imprisonment. “So. What actually was your plan here? Do not,” he interrupts, before the teenage-shaped bloodhound-leech can do more than open his mouth, “say ‘capture the Avatar.’”

The prince closes his mouth. Glares. And kind of fuzzes at the edges, in the way all of them do when they’re about to fall asleep.

BOOMERANG, Sokka thinks, and Prince Largely Ineffective As An Enemy jerks back upright. His Momo hat chitters a complaint.

“Since we both know your answer is ‘I had no plan, Sokka, ‘plan’ starts with ‘p’ and there’s no ‘p’ in ‘Avatar’’, we’re going to play a game instead. It’s called ‘sleepy prince free association interrogation time.’”

“...What?”

“Battle plans,” Sokka says. “Attack. Fire Navy fleet. Ship numbers.”

Alas, “Fire Nation intelligence” is not something with which the prince’s brain is overly burdened.

“...Are you insulting me?”

“Are you proving my point?”

Elsewhere, Yue laughs in all their heads. Zuko flinches. The prince has a very marked reaction to the laughter of princesses.

---

“Okay,” says Sokka. “So that just happened.”

Commander Mutton Chops is groaning. Kind of flopping. Much like the bag he tried to fireball. Yue picks it up, and gently wrangles a fish back into water. Sokka is still not clear on what the fish-napping was about.

“It’s the Moon,” Aang says. “Or maybe the Ocean?”

Aang’s thoughts are full of a FACE STEALING EVIL CENTIPEDE MONSTER THAT IS JUST ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE THIN VEIL OF REALITY and that is NOT helping Sokka think.

“Okay,” he says again. “So. At least we can all agree on one thing.”

This is a very diplomatic way of saying they all wanted to dropkick Zhao. But some of them wanted to do it more than others.

The prince of the Fire Nation is even paler than normal, and staring across the clearing at his uncle.

“I can explain,” the prince says, while he’s thinking, oh shit treason oh crap uncle wouldn’t hurt me thought that about father too

Sokka wordlessly plucks Momo from the edge of the pond, where he’s been swiping at the spirit-fish, and drops him on the prince’s head.

Everyone needs a comfort Momo, now and again.

---

“A raft, Zuko?” Sokka says. Outloud. Because it makes things louder when you say it and think it. “A raft?”

Aang is bouncing on his toes. “We should go get him.”

The Avatar is grinning. And thinking, really hard and deliberately, as behind them the Water Tribe ship finishes packing, We should capture the Fire Prince.

“Okay,” Sokka says, with a grin of his own.

#The Chase is them chasing him all over the Earth Kingdom #Azula meanwhile keeps getting thoughts about being the best and Earth Rumbles. only one of these is abnormal.#I'm sure that'll be fine #atla #avatar the last airbender #platonic brain polycule let's goooo #Zuko #Sokka #Aang #the gaang

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cinnamqnx · 2 days ago

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⋆. 𐙚 ˚ permission ft, katsuki bakugo

⋆˚࿔ summary. when his friends ask him to hang out while he’d rather be with you, katsuki always hits them with the same answer

a knock on bakugo’s door of his dorm room causes a groan to escape his lips, unwrapping his arms from you where you were both previously cuddled up while watching a movie on your laptop.

“who’s that?”, you ask, still laid up in his bed as you watch him get up while marching to his door with pure attitude.

“probably them damn extras again.”, he complains with a grumble, opening his door to find kaminari, kirishima and sero stood there with large smiles on their faces.

“what’s with your goofy faces? and why are you knocking on my door at 10pm?”, he questions, a scowl plastered on his face.

“we were wondering if you wanted to come play this new game with us?”, kirishima asks, holding up a video game you know your boyfriend has been wanting to try out for a while now.

he leans against the doorframe, “well, i’m with my girlfriend right now.”

“yeah but you’ve wanted to play this for a while, right? i’m sure she’ll be fine with it.”, kaminari reasons, sero nodding along with him.

letting out the biggest sigh he could, bakugo replies, “yeah whatever, let me ask her.”, shutting his door halfway so the boys couldn’t see bakugo’s little act he was about to pull off.

“you can go if you want, i don’t mind.” you say softly, turning your head away from the movie you were just watching. you really didn’t mind if he wanted to hang out with his friends since he spent majority of his time with you anyway.

he frowns at your response, mouthing a ‘be quiet’ before opening the door once again after a minute or so, seeing their anticipated smiles.

“yeah she said no.”, bakugo shrugs through his lie nonchalantly, causing you to whip your head back around at him while furrowing your brows.

was this man trying to make his friends hate you?

“well, do you really need to be asking your girlfriend for permission, dude? seems kinda toxic..”, kaminari starts, scratching the back of his head with an awkward look on his face.

“are you questioning her?”, bakugo questions, his voice slightly raised as he holds his usual angry face when anyone mentions anything he doesn’t like about you.

he’s always been protective like that. although, you do wonder if that’s the reason why most of the boys seem a little too cautious around you and always refuse to train with you. bakugo always tells you not to worry about it.

“nah, course not, bro. we’ll play another time it’s fine.”, kirishima steps in, holding his hands up while giving a light hearted laugh, trying to cool bakugo’s behaviour.

“yeah, yeah, fine. whatever.”, bakugo rolls his eyes, shooing off his friends before turning back to you, the angered expression he once had completely wiped off.

his sight finally falls back onto you as he walks back over and getting comfortable in his bed again, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to his chest as he interlocks his legs with yours.

if anyone saw the position bakugo was in now, they wouldn’t believe their eyes. angry, aggressive bakugo laid up with a girl, holding onto her so gently as he kisses her forehead, watching some bullshit movie you know he has no interest in watching, and all for his sweet little girlfriend who everyone now seems to think holds him hostage so he can’t hang out with his boys.

and all because he simply just wants to spend all his time with his girlfriend.

“you’re such a lover boy.”, you smile at him, knowing how embarrassed he gets when you say things like this.

“shut up.”, he grumbles, partly hiding his face in the covers as he continues watching the movie with you, back where he wanted to be.

he knows you’re right. you have this man absolutely whipped for you and he couldn’t even care less about it.

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magical-reid · 3 days ago

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Yours, Whether You Know it or Not

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Setting: Falcon and the Winter Soldier Timeline

Word Count: 1K

Summary: You’ve been running missions with Sam and Bucky for a while now, and everything was fine—until John Walker started showing up and taking an interest in you. Bucky isn’t having it. Not because he’s jealous. Definitely not because he’s jealous. He just doesn’t trust Walker. Right?

Unwanted Attention

You weren’t sure how long you’d been walking, but you knew Bucky was beside you—silent, brooding, and absolutely vibrating with tension.

Again.

It had started a week ago. After the whole Flag Smashers fiasco in Munich, John Walker and his annoying sidekick, Lemar, had started appearing more often. They were always just there, cocky and insufferable, flashing that stolen shield like they had any right to it. But that wasn’t what had been bothering Bucky the most.

It was Walker’s interest in you.

Ever since you’d first been introduced, Walker had made it painfully obvious that he found you attractive. The first time, it was a comment—something about how you were “too pretty to be running around with these two grumps.” You’d rolled your eyes, but Sam had snickered, and Bucky had muttered something under his breath that you hadn’t quite caught.

Then, it became touches—a hand on your lower back, a brush of fingers against yours when he handed you something, a lingering grip on your wrist after a mission. It was all casual enough that you couldn’t really call him out on it, but you weren’t an idiot. Walker was testing boundaries. And every time, Bucky got pissed.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

At first, you thought it was just his general hatred for Walker. But then you noticed other things.

Bucky started standing closer. His arm would “accidentally” brush against yours when you were walking. He’d place a firm hand on your back before Walker could, guiding you away without a word. And, most notably, whenever Walker so much as looked at you, Bucky’s jaw would tighten, his fists clenching like he was barely keeping himself from decking the guy.

Which led to this moment right now.

You, Bucky, and Sam were walking back to the safe house after a tense meeting with Walker and Lemar—one in which Walker had, yet again, spent way too much time trying to get your attention.

“You don’t have to act like I’m gonna drop dead if he talks to me, you know,” you said finally, breaking the silence.

Bucky didn’t look at you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on.” You stopped walking, turning to face him. “Every time Walker so much as breathes in my direction, you look like you’re about to rip his throat out.”

Bucky scoffed, looking away. “I just don’t trust him.”

Sam, who had been trailing a few steps behind, smirked. “Right. That’s what this is about.”

Bucky shot him a glare, but Sam just shrugged.

“Man, you’re jealous,” Sam said. “It’s written all over your grumpy little face.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“You’re so jealous.”

“I—” Bucky cut himself off, taking a deep breath like he was trying to calm himself. “He’s an asshole.”

“No arguments there,” you said. “But if you don’t like him flirting with me, there’s a pretty easy solution, Barnes.”

Bucky’s eyes flicked to yours. “Yeah?”

You smiled innocently. “You could just tell me why it really bothers you.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, blue eyes dark and unreadable. Then, with a sharp shake of his head, he muttered, “Let’s go,” and kept walking.

Sam sighed. “Man, you are hopeless.”

You didn’t disagree.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

A Game of Possession

The next time you saw Walker, things escalated.

It was supposed to be a simple recon mission—stakeout, gather intel, get out. But, as always, Walker found a way to insert himself where he wasn’t wanted.

“You know,” Walker said, sidling up beside you, “we’d work a lot better together if you ditched these two and joined Lemar and me.”

Bucky, who was standing just a few feet away, tensed immediately.

You sighed. “Not interested.”

“Come on,” Walker pressed, flashing that annoyingly charming smile. “I’d take good care of you.”

Before you could retort, a heavy, warm weight settled around your waist.

Bucky.

His metal arm wrapped around you in an unmistakably possessive gesture, tugging you snugly against his side. His fingers splayed against your hip, and when he spoke, his voice was low and dangerous.

“She’s already taken care of.”

The air went thick with tension. Walker’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second before he recovered.

“Oh yeah?” he challenged. “By who?”

Bucky’s grip tightened. “Me.”

Your heart stopped.

Walker raised an eyebrow. “Huh. Didn’t peg you for the type to settle down, Barnes.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “Maybe you don’t know as much as you think you do.”

Walker let his gaze linger on you for a beat too long before smirking. “Alright, alright. No need to get your vibranium arm in a twist.”

And with that, he strolled off.

Bucky didn’t move. Neither did you.

Finally, you found your voice. “So. That was… something.”

Bucky let out a breath through his nose. Slowly, his hand eased away, though his fingers brushed lightly against your side before leaving entirely. “Sorry.”

You turned to look at him. “Are you?”

He hesitated. Then, in a rare moment of honesty, he admitted, “No.”

You bit your lip, heartbeat unsteady. “So… am I actually taken?”

Bucky exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “Do you want to be?”

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you stepped forward, closing the space he’d left between you.

“I wouldn’t mind,” you murmured.

Bucky swallowed hard. His eyes flickered to your lips. His fingers twitched at his side like he wanted to touch you again.

Before either of you could do anything about it, Sam’s voice rang out from across the way.

“Hey, lovebirds! We’ve got work to do!”

You pulled back, trying not to grin. Bucky just sighed.

“This is your fault,” he muttered.

You smirked. “If you say so, boyfriend.”

Bucky groaned, but the tips of his ears burned red. And you had a feeling that, jealous or not, he wasn’t going to let the title go.

Not anymore.

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luveline · 1 day ago

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omg post prison Spencer and concussed!shy girl….I would go feral I fear

“I’m gonna be sick again,” you whine, covering your eyes with both of your hands. The nausea roils and the pain in your head reaches a new crescendo. You moan without thinking about it, worse when someone grabs a hold of you from behind.

“Don’t bend!” he says, not shouting but not happy with you either. “You aren’t going to be sick again if you stay sat up. I know it hurts, but you’re making it worse.”

Spencer’s strict voice isn’t one you’re used to. An embarrassed flush rushes over you, quick to cry ‘cos you’ve wanted to for hours.

“Sorry,” you mumble tearily, slouching back into your seat with a wince.

“Oh, angel, please don’t cry again.”

“I’m not.”

“I’m not angry with you, I just need you to listen, because being sick like this isn’t good for you, and you’re gonna feel sick again if you bend over. It’s your head, angel. It’s the inertia.”

You shuffle across the couch to flop against his chest. It’s a desperate move; if he doesn’t hug you, you’re going to start crying for sure, so you’re begging him to hold you without having the courage to say it out loud. “Sorry,” you say.

“It’s okay.” Hands wrap around you immediately. “Don’t be sorry. Just stay like this for a bit, until the nausea stops. Please.”

You’d love to stay there. You can smell the black coconut soap he uses on his skin, rubbing your nose into his neck and taking obvious breaths.

Spencer pats your back, saying, “Good, take a breather.” He sounds surprised, but when you glance up at him he isn’t panicking or moving. He’s closed his eyes. His hand is on the small of your back.

You hit your head so hard the very first thing that happened was the wave of vomiting. It just… didn’t end. And for a while all you could think about was nothing, just being sick and crying and a hand on your back, eventually traded for colder ones, bright white lights and strangers asking how you were feeling. You couldn’t not defer to Spencer, not really sure if he was Spencer in a permanent sense but aware intrinsically that he was to be trusted to answer for you.

Your brain is shaken, then stirred.

“If I give you a pill, do you think you can keep it down? It’s okay if you can’t. Honest answer,” Spencer murmurs.

“I don’t know.”

“An anti nausea pill you need to swallow isn’t exactly mankind’s best invention.” He cradles the nape of your neck, then, sounding more on your side than anyone ever has. “I wish I could fix it.”

“You should’ve put your brain to work for science,” you say agreeably, “you can fix anything. Big pharma are lucky you chose to catch the bad guys instead.”

“I meant your concussion.” You can barely hear him, and at the same time, it’s like he’s speaking into your marrow.

“You did fix that,” you say, tipping your head back to see him. “You took me to the doctor.”

He smiles. “Yeah, I did, but you’re still sick and hurting.”

It’s not that bad in Spencer’s arms. You had dreams like this, daydreams and sleeping, where he’d wrap you up and comfort you after some hurt, but you’re struggling to remember what made it feel as painful as it did at the time. Spencer felt far away. Now he’s right here. You curl your arm behind his neck to be squished together, tight tight tight. Spencer actually groans.

“Sorry,” you say.

“No, m’not in pain. I can’t remember the last time I got to hold you like this for so long.”

“I don’t know why.”

“I do, and it’s okay. I know why you get freaked out. I’ll never rush you. I don’t mind. But I feel guilty ‘cos I’m enjoying this and you’re in pain.”

It’s a dull throb in the skull. You can barely feel it.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“I’m confused.”

“That’s a common theme tonight.”

“You feel guilty ‘cos I’m hugging you?”

He covers your eyes with his hand. You laugh at first, but it’s oddly nice. Warm, dark. The throbbing pain ebbs a bit.

Spencer can feel you relaxing against him. He’s all warmth and smell and sound under your ear. Exhaling, humming, the sound imbued with a fondness you don’t understand. His chest is solid under you, his hair begging to be touched where it flirts with his shoulders, the slopes and lines of him a tactile wonderland for your greedy hands: you want to feel everything. You haven’t the faintest clue as to why you weren’t allowing yourself the privilege before.

“I just need you to get better fast,” he says, breathless. “That’s all.”

“I am trying my best.”

Spencer rubs a thumb over one of your eyebrows, start to end. “And you’re so, so good at it,” he says.

You aren’t concussed enough to miss the lightly mocking coo of it. But you don’t care. Your nose drags up the line of his neck clumsily, in what you hope says tease me more, but more likely says concussive brain injury, second degree.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic

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1d1195 · 2 days ago

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I love a gooey part 💕

Pucking Rookie IV

Read Pucking Rookie here | ~8k words

From me: slow burning!!!

Warnings: ANGST violence. CW: Signs of abuse.

Summary: Harry is very hot. Very sweet. VERY protective.

“Hey everyone,” she greeted brightly. “How’s everyone today?” She asked while setting down a tray of eight glasses and two pitchers of water on the table.

“Wonderful, baby, so excited to have you.”

She nearly knocked the glasses over (fortunately, since they were water glasses, they were only plastic). She made eye contact with him and felt her heart completely stop for a few beats. Kael smiled wickedly in return.

Fuck.

She kept her smile in place. “What can I get you to drink?” She asked. After eight years, she already knew what he wanted so she focused on his teammates.

“We were hoping to see The Chargers tonight,” Kael told her. “Do they come here often?”

She didn’t respond. “We have a few specials tonight, so if you have any questions, please let me know,” then she sauntered away to place the drink order.

“Already know what I want, baby?” He called. “That’s so sweet!”

She ignored him. Taking deep breaths she headed to the kitchen. Louis wasn’t in yet. Harry didn’t know she was working. Which meant the rest of the team thought she wasn’t working too. Marc and Michael probably had their suspicions that she was with Harry. So, no one knew she was there. Not really.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It was probably just going to be an hour. He had his team with him. It wasn’t like they could have a private conversation in the middle of a restaurant. Yeah, he would probably tease and torture her for the better part of that hour, but she could be civil. She could pretend. She had for ages. He didn’t know she was working for The Chargers—she was sure he had an idea that she might be. But the afternoon set it in stone.

He was such a dick. It was the first time she had seen him face to face since she moved out. Everything about him made her skin crawl and she hated it. Every touch and kiss between them seemed tainted now. All those good memories, dates, hockey games, everything felt ruined. Each interaction was colored now with the hindsight that he didn’t love her. Not the way she did. Not the way she expected him to love her for ever and ever. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t deserve that. She knew she didn’t deserve that.

So why did he make her feel undeserving of it ever again?

Kael and his teammates came and went fortunately. Just as she predicted. Only a little over an hour. She refrained from speaking directly to Kael and focused on the group as a whole.

When Kael left, she was well past the feeling of relief. There should have been a stronger word for how liberated she felt. She used the bathroom, splashed cold water on her face, and took a moment to process everything. It was just like Kael to come in and make her feel like shit without even trying. Louis was supposed to be in, so at least she had that going for her.

“Hey love,” Louis called. “Everything good?” She probably looked a little shaken, so she wasn’t surprised he asked. She felt shaken.

“Good,” she smiled assuredly. She flitted around the room, ducked behind the bar, and went about her day. It was a busy night, and she wasn’t going to let Kael sour her shift that he had next to nothing to do with. So she didn’t. The next hour ticked on quickly and she was feeling more herself as the time stretched between Kael’s departure and the present.

“Hi baby,” he cooed.

Her arms felt numb almost instantly, she was lucky she didn’t drop her tray. Her fight or flight swept her and just made her freeze. She turned as she had earlier in the day and looked at him. “Hi,” she said curtly. He was alone, which made her nervous.

“I figured you must get a break soon. I’d like to talk.”

“Not for a while. And it’s busy,” at least that wasn’t a lie. “So I might not take one tonight.”

Louis was hurrying about from kitchen to back room, to front of house. It was busy as it could be, but she wanted to keep an eye on him. If Kael got her alone, she wasn’t sure she would be able to control her emotions as well as if she had someone that knew she was not in a situation she wanted to be in just by looking at her. Louis wasn’t Harry, but he would know all the same that she was uncomfortable.

Kael smiled brightly.

Well, at least someone that cared ifshe was uncomfortable.

“I’ll wait,” he offered.

“Great,” she deadpanned.

She went to the back room and wished that there was a group of Chargers there. If she called any of them, she knew they would break curfew and be there for her in a heartbeat. The thought of Kael anywhere near her would make Callie incensed for ruining her day. Niall would be protective in his own way and focused on her. Asher and Lang would get her away from The Locker Room and make sure Kael never set foot there again.

She could hardly imagine what Harry would do to him.

But she lied. She told Harry that she wasn’t working. The routines the boys had had in place prior to her arrival with the team had been disrupted more than she ever anticipated. It was nice they cared but it wasn’t fair to them to upheave their lives for her. She was just the photographer for the team. Their coach’s niece. They didn’t ask to have someone they needed to babysit.

She was an independent, self-sufficient person.

“You okay, love?” Louis asked.

She nodded and flitted around the room taking order and tried not to think about the feeling of Kael’s stare on the back of her head.

It was perhaps another hour, and Kael was true to his word in staying put. Fortunately, The Locker Room remained steadily busy. She didn’t have to lie about not taking her break. She foisted him off on another waiter who grew a little tired of him asking for her each time he went over. “Baby,” he snatched her hand as she went by.

She pulled away. “Kael, I’m busy,” she marched away before he could reach for her again.

Without warning a multitude of memories where he snagged her hand over the years filtered through her mind. His grip tight on her arm or hand. Never in a way that any outsider would notice. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whispered to herself. She was going to call Harry. His wrath would be well worth it. At least Kael was scared of Harry and the team. Especially if he was outnumbered. She was shaking a little as she headed for the kitchen hoping to catch Louis at least.

“Hey,” Kael said grabbing her again as she passed too close to his table. This time he caught a real hold of her arm and pinned it to the table. To any other onlooker it would look like he was just keeping her in place holding onto her hand in almost a romantic kind of way. No one would see how his fingers dug into her skin, how she was feeling the ache of the hard wood against her knuckles and wrist bone like she just lost an arm-wrestling contest. “I just want to talk.”

She wanted nothing less. “Hey, Louis!” She called quickly and loudly enough so that he would be able to hear her over the din of the whole place regardless of where he had gone off too.

Within seconds Louis was there from the back room.

Harry was right beside him. His eyes narrowed at the sight of her arm on the table. Her mouth popped open in shock. She had no clue he was there. Most obviously, she didn’t want him to see this. “Oh fuck,” she whispered and tried to pry her hand away from Kael’s. She squirmed slightly as he refused to release her. He cupped his other hand gently on top of her arm trying to get her to stop.

Harry wasn’t supposed to be here. He was only supposed to come to her rescue because she couldn’t figure out what else she was to do. She was going to hide in the kitchen and wait.

Harry wasn’t supposed to be around Kael.

“Styles,” Kael practically sang. He didn’t release her arm. “Didn’t know you were here. Tough loss today. I hope it’s the same tomorrow, to be honest.”

He didn’t take the bait. His nostrils flared. “Let go of her hand Crowe,” Harry snarled stepping closer to him.

“We were just talking, right baby?” Kael smiled and took his free hand to cup the side of her face. She turned her face away and brushed it away from her skin.

Harry continued to approach him—up close and personal. If they were on the ice the cages of their helmets would have been touching. “Let her go, right fucking now,” his shoulders were heaving.

“It’s fine,” she croaked. Harry didn’t even acknowledge her.

Was he trying to keep it together? Not make a scene, maybe? Harry was quick to anger—like most hockey players. He probably would have torn Kael limb from limb by now if this wasn’t a local place where fans and the rest of the team went.

“Let go of her,” her he repeated, his voice was so deep. His body shaking.

“Harry, I’m fine—”

He ignored her still and Kael continued keeping her in place despite her squirming. She wanted to whimper as he squeezed her tighter and pressed her hand harder into the table. To the untrained eye, you wouldn’t know. But Harry was watching like this was his favorite movie and they were at the climax of the plot. He saw the way she winced and her body bend slightly as he pressed harder. “Mind your fucking business, Styles,” Kael shook his head. “This doesn’t involve—”

“She is m’business. Especially when you’re fucking hurting her,” the whole bar area went silent as they realized one of their favorite celebrities was about to punch the lights out of one of the best names in hockey. “If y’don’t let her go, m’gonna rip your hand off, Crowe. And m’gonna enjoy it,” he promised shaking his head. “Let go of her.”

She wanted to move more but was utterly terrified. Harry could get in serious trouble. Kael wasn’t particularly dangerous, but his grip was making her whole arm ache. Harry’s threat made her stomach swoop; he was so ready to protect her. Of course that was nice, but she wanted to cry. Hurting one of the top professionals in the league (even if Harry was also at the top) was a great way to get a hefty suspension and fine if he was caught.

Just another way she was going to upend his perfectly normal, happy life.

“Harry, stop,” she begged.

“Yeah, Harry, stop,” Kael mimicked. But she inhaled sharply, pulling and moving again uselessly to try and get away from the grip he had on her wrist. She whimpered despite herself as the pain continued. “Mind your business Harry,” he snarled. “M’talking to my girlfriend.”

Harry didn’t acknowledge the comment. “Stop fucking touching her, Crowe.”

“She’s mine. I’ll do whatever I want to her.”

Harry stared at him, his gaze flicking to her wrist still pinned to the table. She was still squirming, looking to get away. Louis reached for her and Harry put his hand on his chest and pushed him away. He walked to the bar, grabbed a shot of whatever the bartender was pouring. His head tipped back as he sucked the liquid down. The quiet clink of his glass hitting the bar was the only sound in the room. Silently, Harry plucked the rings he wore when he wasn’t playing hockey off his fingers. He tucked them into the inside pocket of his jacket. It felt like the seconds were ticking by in slow motion. Not even the pain from Kael’s tight grip on her hand was enough to draw her attention away from Harry’s movements.

She swallowed, her eyes pleading with Harry not to do it. It wasn’t that bad. She could take it. The pain she was feeling now was hardly anything in comparison to what he could do. This was nothing.

“One more time, Crowe... Let go. Of her,” Harry’s voice was even. Measured. It had the tone of I’m not asking again.

“She’s mine, Styles. Find someone else to stalk.”

Harry smirked, shook his head, and his eyes flickered to hers for only a second. Then they were back on Kael. “Oh. No. No she’s very much not yours.”

As slow as the seconds had ticked by, they all came rushing back at full speed; maybe time even sped up. Harry delivered a lightning-fast punch to Kael’s nose causing him to gasp and drop her hand as he instinctively reached for his face. With the toe of his boot, Harry tipped his chair before Kael could get his bearings, and he fell flat to his back. The chair broke into pieces with his weight. He gasped, trying to right himself and protect his nose from bleeding everywhere. Harry reached down before Kael could get a grip. He yanked him up by the collar and front of his shirt. A stupid, ugly orange and blue sweatshirt that Harry was delighted to wrinkle hard in his hands. Before Kael was barely on his feet, Harry hauled him backward. Shoved him hard into the bar so the edge dug into his spine, no doubt. Without pause, Harry delivered a solid punch to his cheek, a heel stomp to his foot, and knee to his stomach.

Kael bent forward, gasping for air and Harry’s breathing was as even as if he was sleeping.

Her hand went to her mouth and the other to her stomach as she tried to hold herself together. Everyone looked in pure shock. Surely someone was supposed to try and stop Harry. Even if he was a hockey player for the town that everyone loved. But given he incapacitated Kael in a matter of thirty seconds it wasn’t like anyone wanted to try and stop him. Even Louis was speechless and looked in horror. “Are y’gonna touch her again?” He didn’t say anything, which was the wrong answer as Harry twisted him in an instant, pressing his face down into the bar, pulling his arm back behind his body. “I said, are y’gonna touch her again?”

“No,” he rasped.

“M’letting y’keep your hand. Don’t make me regret it,” he snapped and shoved him a final time into the bar. He dropped a few hundreds on the bar for the damage and his drink. “Louis, keep the change,” he muttered over his shoulder without sparing another glance at Kael. “S’time t’go, Bunny,” he murmured lowly for no one else to hear but her. He placed an arm around her waist, and tugged her toward the exit. Every pair of eyes followed them.

“B-but m-my shift—”

Without missing a beat, he grabbed his wallet from his back pocket and stuffed it in the front pocket of her apron. “Let’s go,” he repeated and ushered her outside.

Harry opened his passenger door and gestured for her to get in.

She looked nervous, which made Harry uneasy. This strong, brave woman who bantered with unruly hockey players and dealt with fans and drunk patrons looked a bit lost. “What about my car— I mean... your other—”

“Get in the car, Rookie,” he ordered.

She followed his direction. Harry waited until she was safely buckled inside before closing her in. He locked the door for the short walk around his car, only unlocking it so he could slip inside. Once seated and buckled, he turned the car on and immediately exited the parking lot. After driving in silence for several moments Harry dropped his hand on her thigh like it was an instinct.

He didn’t ask if she was okay. Which was kind of him, because how could she be? Her heart was thudding in her chest, her wrist hurt, and her brain was a mess. Harry’s hand on her leg should have made her uncomfortable given he didn’t ask. But it was almost too comforting, and she dreaded the idea that he would have to let go of her eventually.

“Don’t y’dare cry over him, bunny,” his voice was tight.

She sniffled, not realizing she was, in fact, crying. She swiped her hands across her cheeks. “Sorry,” she whispered looking toward the window.

Harry shook his head and sighed. His hand squeezed her leg while he pressed his head back into the seat hard—if the head rest wasn’t there and he didn’t have to watch the road, she was certain his eyes would be facing the ceiling of his car, searching for strength somewhere above him. His jawline seemed sharper than ever as he clenched his teeth. “Y’don’t have t’apologize.”

“Thank you,” she croaked quietly. “For doing that, I...” she swallowed hard. “I don’t really know what I would have done,” she admitted. The scenario didn’t seem to play out in full if Harry wasn’t there. Yeah, Louis would have helped, but this was different. Harry didn’t say anything. She pulled his wallet out of her apron and placed it in one of the cup holders between them. “I don’t want—”

“It’s yours.”

“Harry, it’s not that—”

“Bunny, I haven’t stopped thinking ‘bout you all afternoon. Since I met you, really. I can’t stop. I used t’think ‘bout nothing but hockey. But s’like you’re the only thing on m’mind now. M’happy when I see you around the rink taking pictures. M’happy when y’try t’skate on m’pond. I love our lessons, and I want t’have y’in my house all the time. M’happy when you’re around. Happier than I’ve been in years, and I didn’t even know I wasn’t completely happy. I can’t have one-night stands anymore. I tried, I did. You’re a long shot. I know that. Someone who deserves a guy so much better than a hot-tempered hockey player as evident by the piece of shit that hurt you in so many ways,” His voice is quiet. “S’not a secret I like you. A lot. If we can only be friends and roommates—because m’sure as hell not bringing y’back to that sorry excuse of an apartment—then s'what I’ll do.”

There was only a brief beat of silence while she contemplated all he said. “I worked really hard on my apartment,” she whispered.

This seemed to soften him a little. He sighed. “It’s adorable, Bunny. It is. But m’constantly worried you’re going t’be kidnapped, robbed, or worse. You can move in this week,” he insisted. “I have the day off after tomorrow and I was going t’spend it at the gym t’lift with the guys so we can pack and move your shit all the same instead.”

“Harry, I don’t think that will work... I have to pay out the rest of my lease if I move out early.”

“That’s bullshit,” he scoffed. She didn’t say anything. Because she kind of agreed that it was bullshit. But she couldn’t move in with Harry. Not when he just admitted he liked her the way she did. It set her heart into a dramatic flutter. Being legally bound would hopefully be enough of a reason for Harry to agree to let her stay until her lease ran out. Then she could figure out her next steps. “Fine,” he decided after a moment. “The black debit card in m’wallet will take care of it.”

She snorted unable to hide her shock. “Harry, you can’t—”

“M’done arguing with you ‘bout this, Bunny.” She frowned and looked at her hand, turning her wrist and wincing ever so slightly. “Is your wrist okay?” He asked.

She shrugged and answered instinctively. “It hurts; but I’ve had worse,” she gasped at her own mistake almost instantly. “Oh fuck, I mean—” she stopped speaking. It didn’t matter. It was too late. Harry saw through it and understood exactly what she meant. He clenched the steering wheel tighter and he swallowed. The bob in his throat looked like he was drinking a glass of nails.

“Did he ever hurt you like this before?” Harry’s voice was an octave lower than she ever heard it. His eyes narrowed as he stared forward.

She didn’t want to make matters any worse, so she didn’t speak. Didn’t move. For several seconds, the car seemed so silent it was as if the tires weren’t even on the ground anymore or if she was breathing.

“Harry,” she whispered eventually.

Harry took a deep breath not liking the tone of her voice and pulled off to the side of the road.

“What are we— Harry!”

Before she could understand what was happening, Harry was outside and opening his trunk and the car doors locked her inside. Instantly, he pulled out one of the back-up sticks he had in case his two in the locker room broke in the middle of a game (or if he wanted to practice while he was home on the pond out back). He slammed it hard on the pavement multiple times grunting as he did until the stick snapped. Then he grabbed a second and repeated this process again, swearing and cursing like he was imagining Kael was under the stick.

Once satisfied with his destruction, he collected the broken pieces and dropped them in the back before sitting in the driver’s seat again, his breathing only slightly elevated.

She stared at him wildly. Her eyes were wide and beautiful. “If he touches you again, m’killing him,” he said simply. It was a promise. His breath was heavy from the exertion.

She nodded; Harry put the car in drive and continued back toward his place. His hand went right back on her thigh, which she still found comforting and warm, even though she had only had the luxury of his hand on her for no more than a few minutes. “Okay,” she whispered hoping there wouldn’t be an again to speak of.

Harry let the silence linger again. “My apartment is the other way,” she reminded him.

He rolled his eyes. “I just told you, Rookie, y’not living there anymore.”

“Oh my God, Harry. You can’t be serious.”

He snorted. “No. I am. As a heart attack.”

“Harry I can’t move in—”

“Of course, y’can. I have like five bedrooms. Pick one. Pick three for all I care.”

She swallowed. “What if I pick your bedroom?” She was attempting to lighten the mood, maybe. Harry wasn’t sure. Or maybe she was trying (and failing) to be annoying. But Harry was never annoyed by her. He was amused at worst. She was adorable. Every little thing she did was adorable.

“Then it’s yours,” he shrugged. He was hardly home during the season anyway. With his niece, Mum, and Gem out of town, he wasn’t home much in the off-season either. He could easily move into another room if she wanted his. In fact, he probably would give her his room. It wasn’t the only one with a bathroom, but it had a nice tub that he knew was being wasted without proper use and it felt like she deserved a relaxing night to soak in the tub until she got pruney and everything else that stressed her in her life disappeared.

“I thought you didn’t bring women home to stay,” she reminded him.

“Never had one that I wanted t’bring home,” he shrugged.

She pressed her head to the window. He was quick. Didn’t miss a beat. “I’ll stay tonight, but I’m not moving in. My uncle is going to kill you.”

He shrugged. “S’a long line of Glacier Wolves who’ll want t’kill me before him.” She giggled softly under her breath. Harry glanced at her peripherally and smirked at the little smile that graced her lips. “M’niece is over a lot in the off season,” he told her. “Gem and Mum come by too. So s’had women there before.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Then, yeah. Never had a woman I wanted to bring home,” he repeated. Harry parked in his driveway, turned to her, his hand still on her thigh and honestly, she never wanted it to move.

“Are we still friends?” She blurted. He just admitted he liked her. It was no secret she liked him too. It could make things very awkward going forward so she wouldn’t blame him if he really didn’t want to be friends any longer.

“What a weird fucking question, Rookie,” he shook his head.

“Can you just tell me?”

“Yes, we’re still fucking friends. Despite the fact I would love t’be more.”

She closed her eyes. “He really fucked me up, Harry,” she whispered. “He... he wanted some trophy girlfriend that doted on him and worshipped him for being a good hockey player. He didn’t want me to be my own person. He didn’t want me to have my own hobbies or interests. Like I was nothing, a nobody—”

“Rookie,” he whispered.

“—and I just let him treat me that way. Because it was easier than confronting it—”

“Rookie.”

“—So I don’t want to keep falling for you because you... you’re so talented and you will overshadow me and you should. But it’s so fucking cold living in the shadow of someone else and I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

He winced. “Bunny,” he wanted her to stop.

“I don’t love that nickname either,” she sighed. “I want to. It’s cute and it’s even cuter when you say it. But the connotation of being a puck bunny is just more of what Kael insinuated and I don’t—”

“I don’t think you are a puck bunny. S’not why I call you that. Y’wrinkle your nose like a bunny when y’concentrate. S’the first thing I noticed when I met y’taking pictures rink-side. And you’re always going and going like the little Energizer bunny. But mostly, s’because you’re so fucking cute like a bunny. S’honestly nearly nauseating sometimes.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She swallowed trying to keep all the feelings of falling for another hockey player at bay. “So, I make you sick?”

He smiled. “Excessively.”

“And you want me anyway?”

“Excessively,” he whispered cupping her face. She leaned into the touch, closed her eyes, and sank into the way his hand caressed her cheek for a moment.

Sighing, she opened her eyes and looked at him shyly. “You probably know that he cheated on me,” she reminded him. “And the worst of it, I don’t know if it was the first time, and I don’t want to know. Because I already felt stupid for letting him belittle me and letting me forget parts of myself.”

Harry tilted his head back fully staring at the ceiling for a moment. “Yeah...” And now Harry knew this wasn’t the first time he had hurt her either. Whether it was intentional or not.

“And...” she swallowed. “I don’t think you’re like him... if you take anything away from this conversation, please know that I think you’re nothing like him. You’re up front about most of everything. He kept things from me. But... you’re you and you could have any woman you want in any city you want. I don’t fault you for that—I really hope you know that... but I don’t want to be a number anymore, Harry. I don’t want to feel like an idiot, and I don’t think you would intentionally make me feel like an idiot but—”

“Bunny,” he interrupted, turning back to gaze into her eyes so intensely it felt like everything around them disappeared except for the space between them. The seriousness in his green eyes made her stomach flip. They seemed darker. Like the color was changing to a darker shade to explain how serious he was and how he meant every word that spilled from his mouth. “I think you’re brilliant,” he whispered. “In every facet of your life. I’ve thought about nothing but hockey m’whole life. It has been eat, sleep, and breathe ice, pucks, and sticks. The second I met you, every thought has been ‘bout you,” he reminded her. “If I never played another game of hockey, I really think I would be okay s’long as y’were around.”

Her heart felt like it was broken and whole all at the same time. It was too sweet. She bit the inside of her lip. “Well, I don’t want that,” she whispered. “You’re quite good,” she reminded him.

He chuckled. “The point remains, Rookie... I want you t’have everything y’could possibly want. I want t’do anything I can t’help y’achieve anything y’want t’do.”

She looked at her lap. “I can’t believe you went to get a drink.”

“I really didn’t think y’would be there... was hoping I’d run into Louis and maybe he would know if y’were okay. Y’never answered my texts. Didn’t tell me y’made it home.” he frowned. “Why did y’lie t’me, Bunny?”

She took a deep breath. “The whole team has been so nice to me,” she whispered. “I’m not really used to that...” she trailed off. “Callie got so many penalties, you had to interrupt your post-game cool down to walk me to your car, everyone wants to take shifts to watch me... you have to drive me home, give me one of your car... I’ve seriously disrupted your lives... and it was all just too much today. I don’t want to bother you guys. You didn’t sign up to have a kid or a pet you need to watch. Uncle Charlie didn’t have to give me a job with a hockey team. I feel like I didn’t earn anything. It’s so sweet that all of you care, but it’s weird for me...”

God, she was cute. Even sad she was cute. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Y’haven’t disrupted our lives,” he promised. “We’d do this for anyone.”

“That’s comforting I suppose.”

“C’mon, s’late... we have a game tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Harry,” she whispered.

“Course, Rookie,” he squeezed her leg one more time and then got out of the car. (As she predicted, she hated the feeling of Harry’s hand anywhere else but her thigh.)

Entering his house, Harry kicked off his shoes and headed down the hall toward the bedrooms. She texted her group chat with Michael and Marc as she flopped onto the couch until she got more direction from Harry.

I’m at someone’s house for the night so don’t worry about me.

Michael reacted to her message with a thumbs up.

It better be a HOT hockey player.

Michael reacted to Marc’s message with a thumbs down.

Good night, Marc!

I want every INCH of detail

That earned a vomiting emoji from Michael. I do NOT want any details.

GOOD NIGHT MARC

Harry hated that he had a big house. If they were at her apartment, they could have been squished in her bed right then. She wouldn’t be down the hall and half of Harry’s mattress wouldn’t have felt so cold. He rubbed his eyes and sighed. Fortunately, his phone vibrated almost immediately. Like she somehow knew he was awake.

Are you awake?

M-hmm

Can we get breakfast, please?

Harry would throw himself down a set of stairs for her if she asked. “You could jus’ come in here t’ask,” he called.

“I’m creating boundaries!” She answered from a guest room. “Besides this bed is comfy and I don’t want to get up,” she giggled.

“Well, I don’t want boundaries,” he grumbled to himself. He wondered if she slept without pants on. Not that it mattered. He was turned on by the thought of her naked in his bed or if she was in a full snow suit.

“What did you say?” She called.

“Nothing,” he grumbled and pressed the palm of his hand over the front of his shorts willing the blood to rush anywhere but his dick at the thought of her in a goddamn snow suit. “I just have t’shower,” he mumbled.

“Okay, I’ll be here,” she sighed, and Harry could picture her snuggling herself further into the mattress. Maybe it was for the best she was in another room. If she was there looking all cute and cuddly on his bed, he would have to quit hockey. He would probably spend the rest of his life worshipping her on his mattress in every possible way.

Plus, his dick would never be anything but hard.

“Jesus, fuck,” he sighed to himself under the spray of the warm shower. He tried to think about anything but her pretty self in the other room. In his house. In his bed. In his clothes. She was probably changing into her uniform from the night before, so at least he wouldn’t see her in the shirt and shorts he gave her to wear for bed.

He shook his head and focused on shower and not what it would feel like to press her against the tile or—

“Fuuuuck,” he touched his forehead against the tile. Hockey. Defense. Goals. Niall. That’s good. Niall, gross. Callie—FUCK Callie. Asher owes me ten dollars for betting Lang wouldn’t say “good effort” in their pool game the other day.

His shower took twice as long to shower because he had to actively think about something other than his pretty friend. Once he was out, he slipped into a pair of sweats and one of his long sleeve practice shirts. As he put on his deodorant, he realized it took him an embarrassing amount of time to realize what she was doing as he got dressed. “Rookie, you are not,” he called as he hurried down the hall.

“Not what?” She asked innocently.

“Doing my dish—Rookie, what the hell!”

“They were just there! And I was bored, Harry. Plus, you didn’t say I couldn’t!”

“I told you last time.”

“Well yeah, but that was last time.”

“Please stop,” he begged and rubbed a hand over his face. “We’re supposed t’be going t’breakfast.”

“Well, I figured while you took two years to get ready,” it couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes max but maybe his effort to not think about her in his shower took longer than he thought, “I would make myself useful,” she shrugged and set the final dish on the drying rack beside his sink. She turned the water off and ran the dishtowel over the counter and edge surrounding the sink. She turned, leaning against the counter. Her black and silver uniform top for The Locker Room was on her again. Her leggings from the night before clung to her legs like a second skin.

He wondered how she could look so cute after working a hectic, busy shift, then slept all night and it barely looked like she had a hair out of place. “What?” She asked looking down at her shirt. “Do I have something on this? We’ll have to stop at my apartment first if I do. I’m not going out with you to breakfast when you look hot and I look like trash,” she frowned.

He snorted. “Y’don’t look like trash, Rookie.”

“Well, do I smell or something?”

“No,” he shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You’re beautiful. Stunning really,” he shrugged one shoulder and reached out to touch her face. He skimmed his thumb along her cheek wishing he could lean in and kiss her until they were both breathless. He smiled softly enjoying the way her cheek warmed under his touch. For someone so snarky, she was awfully shy. “Let’s go,” he tilted his head toward the main hallway. He made his way before she could read into it as he was sure she was wont to do.

Harry opened her passenger door and smiled wickedly at her as she got in. “What?” She asked, her eyebrows pinching together.

“You think I’m hot,” he sang.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Harry chuckled, closing her inside.

Kael didn’t play because he was injured. The report sustained it happened at practice the day before but everyone on The Chargers bench knew. Kael kept his gear on but moved to the end of the bench for the starters and lines of his teammates that would be playing. He hardly cheered, hardly moved.

The rest of The Wolves sent death glares to everyone on the team. Harry was checked into the boards more times than he could count. But every time he caught sight of the pretty photographer twirling her wrist in between photos, he felt grateful for each hit. She continued to take pictures, placing her camera into the cutouts of the glass around the ice.

Kael hid from pictures from his own media specialist, the news outlets, and even the fans during the game and in between periods.

“Coward,” Asher growled as they left the ice and headed to the locker room at the end of the game. The group that typically resided in the back of The Locker Room was livid when they found out from Harry that Kael hurt her. They too must have seen the way she twisted her wrist around between pictures. Harry wondered if she noticed she was doing it. It ate at him that it wasn’t the first time that piece of garbage hurt her. There was nothing Harry could do—well, maybe if he ever did figure out time travel, he could. But for now, he could take the hits from Kael’s stupid team and make sure the pretty photographer was okay.

Besides.

He may have had a tough game physically, but Harry was truly on cloud nine.

“Sweetheart, you good?” Lang called from the front of the line heading back toward the locker room.

“I’m good!” She answered.

Harry didn’t even care that Niall was walking alongside her and not him. Or that Callie gave her arm a squeeze when he walked by. It didn’t bother him that Asher was as irate as him either.

Because the word Styles was on her body. It was purposeful. If Kael paid attention, he would see it. He would know she supported Harry, regardless of how outlandish it was (or wasn’t) that he defended her last night. Harry knew the second he saw it, that Kael was going to look at the pretty girl with his number on her and start fuming in his seat. Maybe that’s why his team aimed for him so vehemently throughout the game as well.

Whatever, Harry could take it.

It was well worth it to see his name on her jersey.

Harry realized it was his time to shine after they went out for breakfast. He drove her to get her car at Louis’. He followed her home to the shady apartment building. He wasn’t in the mindset to leave her for any bit of time given the night before. Maybe not for a good few days either if he had it his way. They had away games coming up so they would be all but trapped together on a plane, a bus, and in a hotel so that was in his favor.

He really hoped she would be in a nearby room at the hotel. Or better yet, there wouldn’t be enough rooms, and he could share his with her.

“Why’d you choose eleven?” She asked when she came out of her room after getting ready. She was fluffing her pretty hair and tugging at the hem of the jersey that she had put on. It took a moment to register in Harry’s mind that she was talking to him and was anticipating a response. In her mind, it was no big deal that she was nonchalantly wearing his name and number. That she was by far the prettiest thing he had ever seen. The sweetest person he knew.

He swore his heart skipped a beat as his vision refocused on the lovely girl wearing his name on her back.

He cleared his throat. “S’the first number I ever got,” he shrugged. “But now I say m’so good, m’number twice.”

She grinned and laughed quietly under her breath as she put earrings on with The Chargers logo. “I like that. You are very good. I’ve seen a lot of hockey myself. I like to think I’m a good judge of ability.”

When Harry was younger, he thought if he could have a superpower, he would want to time travel. As he got older it changed a bit, he wanted super strength so he could be the strongest hockey player. Read minds so he could predict the movements of opponents on the ice. Since he met her, he returned to the tried and true: if he could time travel, he could figure out twenty seconds after he kissed her if she hated him or kiss him back, he would have done it right then.

He smirked. “So m’the lucky one today?” He asked pulling on the sleeve.

“I don’t know, does wearing someone’s jerseys constitute as lucky for the day?”

He nodded. “Yeah, very much so, Rookie.”

“Then sure; you’re very lucky, Harry,” she rolled her eyes.

Harry had to bite the inside of his lip to keep his smile from splitting his face in half. He turned away slightly and caught sight of a string of pictures on her little kitchen bar. “What’s all this?” He asked, picking up a photo and inspecting it. It was one of the ones she took while Harry was practicing before the rest of the team showed up. Another photo she got laying down on the ice of Callie’s skates when Harry wanted to rip his teammate’s arm off for holding her so close that day. One from Niall’s empty net. Another of Asher’s locker, his jersey on display. A close up of the C on Lang’s jersey. One of just the empty rink—no fans, no players, nothing.

“Oh... I don’t know,” she looked away shyly piling them together. “I was playing with the idea of making a series of photos,” she flipped one over to indicate the back showed the number three in the line. “You guys are attractive and stuff, but I thought there was a lot of beauty in the little things behind the bench, you know? It’s not just fights and points. The rink is so pretty,” she shrugged.

Harry grabbed her hand before she could stack any more of them away. He looked at each of the pictures painstakingly selected from the hundreds of photos she took each day. The way the light shone off a helmet, the way a shadow fell on the bench. “They’re beautiful, Bunny. Why don’t y’do it?”

“Do what?”

“Make it a series?”

She shook her head. “No... I don’t know. Not many people care about sports photography,” she shrugged. “Not like this anyway.”

“Rookie, I think every team owner and manager in the league would pay t’have this set in their arena.”

“No way, there’s not a single headshot of a star player. In sports, the only thing that really sells by far is you guys and your pretty faces,” she patted his cheek. “It’s tragic, I have some incredible photos of a few baseball diamonds at sunset. But there’s no fans and no players so it just wouldn’t sell well.”

“Show me,” he urged.

She sighed and put her jacket over “We’re going to be late, Harry. Uncle Charlie is already going to be annoyed with me that I’m wearing your jersey. And so will the rest of the team.”

“They all had their turn, Rookie, y’made me wait forever,” he grumbled. They didn’t have to be annoyed. They didn’t have a crush on her the way Harry did. They all knew that. His teammates were his family, but they made him cranky no less; teasing him about how smitten he was about their photographer.

She smiled sadly. “Harry,” she sighed. “I’ll show you another time.”

“Promise?” He pleaded.

“Promise?” She repeated in disbelief. Harry was nearly thirty years old and sounded like he was in kindergarten.

“Promise you’ll show me,” he said pointedly.

“Alright, yeah," She shook her head, sighed with a smile still on her lips. "I promise.”

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I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

#KALE SALAD makes me laugh so much!#OR CALLIE'S SAME #i think men being protective is the hottest thing in the world 😍#even if it's not their s.o.#like you want to protect me? thank you. you own all of my free will now 🫠#i feel like I write terrible 'fights' i'm glad this went over well. i love hockey fights (any sport fights really; see protective men again #i think harry being possessive is my toxic trait. i love him so much #i wish I was his business myself #EXECUTION #FERAL #i realized I never mentioned the rings once but i wrote this part before most of the other parts so here we are #what's a plot hole in fan fic #i am 🥵 about harry taking charge. any man taking charge in a situation like that #i love vulnerability after an intense adrenaline filled moment #yeah only recently found out hockey sticks are $$$$ like how are you going to break two of them!?#she is really iconic. i love her so much tbh #he's so silly #i thought the full snow suit was funny 🤭#the dishes are all you Monica 💕#extra you say 👀🤭#thanks for the book club meeting 💕

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des2dream · 2 days ago

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IndieAnimationDay Highlights✨

Say 'Yay'! It's IndieAnimationDay! A day to celebrate all those independent animators, storyboard artists, cleanup animators, writers etc. out there because we all know how difficult it is to work on animation. We also know how difficult it is to be given dreadful deadlines, people not crediting your work, and dealing with the presence of A.I. Today is the day to celebrate those who give it their all to make something all their own without anyone holding them back! I have three special projects I'd like to highlight for this occasion.

1. Pretty Pretty Please I Don't Want To Be A Magical Girl!✨🌃🧀

In our first installment, we have an upcoming animatic project, Pretty Pretty Please I Don't Want To Be A Magical Girl created by @kianamaiart. Our main character, Aika is an optimistic & excitable teenage girl eager to try new things....as long as one of those new things doesn't involve being a magical girl. Well, too bad for her because she is now "The Chosen One" and has to stop Lady DeVoid from plaguing the world in darkness with the help of her star being aid, Hoshi and her new manga-loving friend, Zira. I love this concept so much! As someone who enjoys watching Sailor Moon (the catalyst for Magical Girls), it's such a fun idea to see how much these familiar magical girl tropes will get shut down by either Aika or any other characters. I also really love the character designs, the art style, and the voice cast. We have the voice actresses for Mirko in My Hero Academia and Madoka Magica (one of the other popular Magical Girls)! You should also check out the rest of the cast. I'm so excited!

2. Lumi and the Great Big Galaxy👽🌌🌟

For our next installment, we have an upcoming animated pilot, Lumi and the Great Big Galaxy created by @starteas. The story has a group of alien friends traveling the galaxy in order to help a lost star named, Lumi find their way back home. As soon as I saw this, it gave me Wander Over Yonder vibes which is cute because it's actually one of the inspirations for this pilot. The same thing goes for Steven Universe! Two animated shows that I love so much! Starteas had been working on this pilot for a long time and you can tell if you've seen their art over the years with how much the character designs change. I feel like I'll really enjoy this cast of wacky characters and I'm more hooked on the supposed villain, Void who has one of the best designs for a bad guy. This pilot looks so cute! I have a feeling I'm really going to enjoy it!

3. Knights of Guinevere💙👑🗡

Here is our last installment! Created by @danaterrace (creator of The Owl House), John Bailey (writer in The Owl House & Future Worm), & Zach Marcus (writer, storyboard artist, & designer/The Owl House & Star Vs. The Forces of Evil) comes the next future animated pilot, Knights of Guinevere. The project is also partnered with Glitch Productions (making this their first 2D animation). We don't have much context on this pilot, but it does involve a space princess in a theme park called, Park Planet. As for the premise, my guess is it may involve the princess not being what she seems, a woman stuck in a fantasy simulation, or maybe the princess is a broken-down robot continuously stuck as a mascot. We won't know until later, but I am excited for what's to come since it plans to be released sometime later this year. I've been a fan of Glitch's previous successful animated shows like Digital Circus & Meta Runner, so I hope this will turn out well in the end.

Happy IndieAnimation Day, everyone! You have the ability to make your dreams come true and I find animation to be one of the best forms of creation and storytelling. Even if you're not an animator, you're still capable of creating what you want. Art is everywhere and it is beautiful!

#indie animation day #indie animation #aika idwtbamg #idwtbamg #lumi and the great big galaxy #knights of guinevere #creative inspiration

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adventremnant · 2 days ago

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tips that aren't the same list from 2006

you know exactly what dumbass list I mean, and none of that shit is practical, it's giving uwu ana butterfly and we all know it

hi, I'm angel, I'm a nutrition major, and here are tips to keep yourself safe and hide your eating habits that actually make sense. this will not be in any particular order, but

avoid ketosis. i know, i know, you heard it burns fat faster! it also makes you smell like a dog rolled in sharpies and makes you stupid. i'm not kidding, you will be slow as fuck. avoid keto at all costs, carbs are better and healthier than being caught and dumb

take electrolytes and pay close attention to your potassium intake. if you neglect this, you will damage your heart and muscles and run the risk of having a heart attack. i use liquid IV because I have POTS and need the extra sodium, but that brand is also good for ED-havers because it has extra b vitamins

take ultra strength prenatal vitamins. they contain extra folate, fish oil, and dha, all of which are necessary to protect your heart and brain when you're not intaking much food.

For other supplements, I recommend Metamucil to keep your bowels going, iron, vitamin c packets (will make the iron absorb better, I personally use the +immunity ones), b-complex, calcium-magnesium-zinc, and vitamin d. Make sure the b-complex contains b-12. Feel free to send me an ask or dm me for dosages because some of these will depend on where you live geographically or what food you are eating.

find a protein shake you like. I'm a muscle milk bitch personally, but fairlife, premier, etc, are all good. make sure it isn't a meal replacement shake, and make sure it contains at least 20g of protein. these contain vitamins beyond protein that will help you stay healthy. the protein will also keep you full. i recommend using it as milk in coffee because the coffee will also suppress hunger and act as a mild laxative without harming the bowels. don't take your iron along with this, as dairy will hinder the absorption of iron.

don't take laxatives. you're going to give yourself IBD. maybe once a month as an extra cleanout you can do a little miralax, but the natural route is always better. regularly drink coffee and drink specifically senna green tea, they're both natural laxatives. the metamucil i recommend will also keep you going. if you need a bigger laxative effect, blend a whole peeled and seeded orange, a few inches of peeled fresh ginger, juice from a whole lemon, add a tsp each of cracked black pepper and turmeric, blend with coconut water until it's a thin smoothie consistency. drink that, you'll be good.

the best thing you can do for yourself is hide your behaviors behind health food gym girlie orthorexic behaviors. nobody takes orthorexia seriously and they encourage those behaviors. you can cut out whatever the hell you want if you're crunchy and healthy about it.

don't go too crazy about it. old tips would tell you to act like you loved food and it's really obvious. being obsessed with food and cooking is weird and obvious. don't talk about food constantly and make it your whole personality to try to hide, it's bizarre and one of the signs they tell parents to look out for. you have to be nonchalant. food is whatever. you like it, you have favorite meals, but you get tired of tastes quickly, you're picky about textures, you don't like it once it gets cold, etc. it's just fuel and it's meaningless to you. you eat for your health, not for pleasure.

high impact workouts like HIIT and running may not be the best idea. some studies show that high impact exercise stimulates hunger hormones in some individuals. pilates, ballet, and yoga are low impact, high results, and give a very desirable aesthetic. they're also quiet and can be done with a yoga mat and maybe a theraband.

get a job. get a hobby. join a sport. being out of your house as much as possible gives you the largest opportunity for excuses. oh my job catered lunch, oh there were snacks at practice, oh so and so brought something to the knitting circle. this can also be an opportunity to earn or save money (or swindle your mom out of cash by obtaining money for concessions at games and then only getting a diet coke)

if you control your own food, maximize your nutrition. salmon, tuna, sardines. kale, chard, spinach. beans, lentils. berries. protein pasta. pasture raised eggs. the fancy filtered fairlife milk. your body will hold out so much longer if you're keeping it fueled with proper vitamins and minerals.

track your food using cronometer - if someone sees it on your phone and asks, you have a perfect built-in excuse. oh, you don't care about the calories, but it tracks vitamin and mineral intake, and you're trying to make sure you're getting enough of those because you have, say, an iron deficiency or you're worried you're not getting enough omega-3s.

anorexic hair is really obvious. it's from malnutrition and stress. absolutely ensure you're getting enough omega-3s and other fats in your diet (avocados, eggs, oily fish, nuts like walnuts) to avoid the anorexia hair and the sallow, dry skin. this is also why i insist you take vitamin d, iron, vitamin c, a b-complex, and a pre-natal with folate and dha, those will also protect your hair and skin health. also make sure you're trimming dead ends, get a deep conditioner and/or bond repair treatment, do scalp massages, and if it does fall out, start using a mousse for volume and get a cut to maximize volume to hide it.

keep up your oral, skin, and nail health, too. these can also be obvious indicators. if you're taking the vitamins and keeping to the foods i'm recommending, it'll help, but make sure you're brushing and flossing, use the nasty brown listerine, a good dry skin lotion like curel, and a nail oil. keep your nails short if they start peeling, but if they're peeling, you need to take more vitamin d and iron, or you could have celiac disease.

there's no such thing as a broken metabolism, and you can't boost or slow down your metabolism. those are myths. the only way to make your bmr higher is to have more muscle.

extra tip: if you start fainting, tell people you have or think you have POTS. work smarter not harder.

#4n4t1ps #34t1ng d1s0rd3r #⭐️rving #3ating d1sorder #3d not sheeran #4n@diary #light as a feather #4nor3xia #tw ed ana #tw ana bløg #thinspø #@na motivation #3d f4st

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thesuperiorrobin · 2 days ago

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Safe space~

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Fem!Crush!Reader

Warnings: none

Damian needed to get out of the house.

Immediately.

Somehow, everybody seemed to be pushing his buttons just right, from the way Jason would just come in unannounced and eat the food while chewing loudly, Dick trying to invade his personal space while completely yelling in his ear, and when Tim would enter a room he was in he would get this annoyed and ticked off feeling that just had him puffing and glaring at the tired man. He needed to leave the manor or else the entire building would be ashes on the ground in the next ten minutes. Bruce was nowhere to be seen and Alfred was doing his own little thing in the kitchen, probably feeding a very hungry Jason.

Damian hides himself in a black car that belonged to his father, a nice old Aston Martin DBS and as he sits in the driver's seat with his phone in his hands he can only stare at the screen, thumbs typing away.

Damian: are you awake?

His eyes glance up at the time on his phone, reading 10:37 pm. He hopes you’re awake, considering it’s a school night after all. He waits for a response, three minutes go by and his phone vibrates in his hands.

You: yeah was literally about to go to bed and rote until 3 am.

You: why? Wanna play Roblox?

You: see I told you it wasn’t so bad. Now I got you addicted 🙄🤚

Damian rolls his eyes at his screencast shaking his head as he starts to type. On your side of the screen, you can see the bubble disappear and appear, for a solid minute before he finally sends the message.

Damian: if you are not busy, I would like for you to accompany me.

You: YAY ROADTRIP😩

You: where we going?

You: also I’m like broke .38 cents isn’t really going get me anything.

Damian: Anywhere. I just need to get out of the house to take a breather and don’t worry about it, whatever you need I’ll get it for you.

You: you okay? Did something happen?

Damian: No. Just be ready when I get there.

You: okay😑

He really hates that stupid emoji.

You’re running out the door when you get the ‘I’m here’ message from him and Damian watches as you almost miss a step and trip over your own feet. You make it into his car in one piece and buckle yourself in.

Damian can see that you were getting ready to lay in bed, entering his car with your hair out of your face, all cozied up with warm black pants that had kuromis imprinted all over, and a black zip-up sweater that’s keeping you warm.

“Helloooo~” you breathe out, placing your tote bag on your lap as you glance at Damian “So where we going?”

“Are you hungry?”

“Yeah….but I wanna skip the meal and go straight for the dessert!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah” you shrug “we got free will, why not use it”

This is where you were now, in the car as your choice of music plays softly, after Damian so kindly gave you the Aux after complaining about his music taste for a solid minute. Your seat is, moved back giving you room to get comfortable as you face Damian with your leg bent over the other.

You seem to be yapping away with the milkshake in hand as you wave it around slightly and he listens, eating away at his ice cream cone as he watches your every move.

Damian feels at ease, relaxing up against his seat as he glances at you—eyeing every feature on your face. From every eyelash to every acne scar to every birthmark to the smile lines that grace your face. He’s memorized them by now. You feel his eyes on you, and as you glance up to stare up at him he looks away shyly.

Clearly out of character for him.

“Is there something on my face?” you question as your arms reach out to pull down the car's visor, seeing as it had a little mirror to look at with little lights to see in the dark “Do I have whipped cream on me?”

“No… just thinking” he breathes out, eyes fixed out ahead of him.

You hum, eyes never leaving the visor as you answer back “Does that have anything to do with why you wanted to get out of the house tonight?”

He doesn’t answer instead, he takes a glance back at you. You’re staring back at him with a questionable look, visor now put back up. He takes a look at your hand, fingernails shining in the moonlight.

“Did you get your nails done?” He’s quick with the topic change, seeing as you glance down to show him but you retreat your hand back with a glare.

“Don’t change the subject!”

It takes hums a moment to answer before sighing “It was nothing serious….every little thing my brothers did irritate me”

“Ah…sibling irritation” you let out a breathy laugh “I get it, your brothers can be a handful sometimes”

At least you get him, others really wouldn’t, and his father sometimes doesn’t. It’s not like he had any siblings growing up anyway. Sometimes people would disagree with him, but you seem to agree with everything he says even if he’s wrong, which is rare, but you still do anyway.

Sooner or later the conversation seems to shift from a different topic to another different topic—and it seems like the cycle continues for hours.

He likes this.

You aren’t loud, you aren’t slurping away at your drink and your presence doesn’t seem to annoy him at all.

Yeah, he enjoys your presence more than anyone he knows.

and as he finishes the last of his ice cream he clutches his head, groaning as he hears you laugh.

“Brain freeze dumbass”

He starts to laugh too, and now the car is filled with your giggles and his breathy laughs.

Yeah…. You’re his little safe space and he’ll do anything to protect it.

Was literally supposed to post something for Valentine’s Day but I ended up getting the flu plus strep throat and an ear infection all at once so I couldn’t write it 😕.

#damian al ghul #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian al ghul x reader #damian x reader #robin x reader #damian scenarios

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secondbeatsongs · 1 day ago

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ever since trump was elected, I've felt like I'm stuck in this weird stasis mode, like I'm frozen in time and not going anywhere, not really doing anything. so I made this:

this is a calendar of trump's presidential term. each square represents a day, and each square with a letter in it represents the first day of a new month. the calendar starts on January 20th 2025, and ends on January 20th, 2029.

I plan on printing it out and coloring in each day as we go, just to have a tangible example of how I'm progressing through time, but you can do whatever you want with it! use mspaint or gimp to fill it out, or keep it in your phone gallery, etc - if it's useful to you, feel free to use it!

and stay safe, out there. things are really fucking rough right now, but we've gotta do whatever we can to just...stay alive and keep moving forward.

four years is a limited period of time, and it will end. we've just gotta hold on

#personal #politics #us politics #tbh I'm not having a good time right now!#it's been bad in ways that are difficult to describe #but. we stay silly #through gritted teeth and with shaking hands balled into fists: we stay silly

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darkbluekies · 1 day ago

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Til death do us part

Yandere!mafia oc x reader

Summary: A summer romance turns dark as Silas can't accept that you've married someone else

Warnings: kidnapping, murder, blackmail, threats, Silas belittling darling, violence, isolation, jealousy, possessiveness

Word count: 5k

He’s everything you could have ever wanted. He’s sweet, caring and works at a bank. He can provide for you. He’s from a good family. Everything about him is perfect, everything you could ever have dreamt of. You could never have imagined that you would find a man like him after what happened last summer.

You had met a man on the way home from dinner with a friend, someone that had helped you after the grocery bag you had bought food in on the way home. He had introduced himself as ‘Silas’ and had walked you home, carrying the groceries for you. You had thanked him. Silas had asked if you wanted to meet for coffee sometime, and you had agreed, innocently thinking nothing of it. You had gone out with him multiple times. Never actually becoming a couple, but acting like it. It was harmless, you thought. You kissed, went on dates and you knew that if things continued like this, you’d fall for him.

But you noticed that something was weird about him, and it made you feel cautious in his presence. He never told you anything about his life and when you asked, you noticed that something shifted in his dark eyes. As if he tried to come up with a lie. It creeped you out somehow, because why couldn’t he tell you? Maybe you shouldn’t have trusted a man who tried to cover up his tattoos.

You finally got to know the truth at the end of the summer. A friend who had seen the two of you together had recognised him from a newspaper. He was a criminal, a leader of a mob, who was more dangerous than you could have anticipated. You had cut contact with him and moved away so that he wouldn’t be able to find you again.

But he did. Somehow, he did.

Letters have been piling up in your mailbox during these last few weeks, addressed to you and written in red ink. Your heart had stopped when you read the first one.

“Y/N, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so terribly much. My heart bleeds and aches for you. You left me because you were scared. I get that. I get that very well, this is a world you should be afraid of, but I will protect you. I will take care of you better than that man ever could. Yeah, I know that you’ve found someone new. I know that you’re planning to get married. Quite quick, don’t you think? You haven’t known him that long, and now you’re getting married? Silly Y/N, you’re so cute. Do you really think you love him? Are you trying to reassure yourself that I’m a part of your past that will never return? Or are you trying to make everyone around you believe that you’ve gotten over me and moved on? I know you still think of me. I know you want me. And I want you too. I have never wanted someone other than you. You and me are meant for each other. Don’t marry him. Come back to me. It’s you and me til the end.”

You hadn’t shown your fiance, but he had noticed that something had been wrong with you. You had become silent and distant. Letter after letter came to your mailbox and he realized that something serious had happened. You had no choice but to tell him about Silas and your past with him, the present he doesn’t want to let go of, and the future he demands. Your fiance had promised that he wouldn’t get to you, and that he was only trying to scare you.

You had been expecting to see Silas at your wedding, but he wasn’t there—or at least you didn’t catch a glimpse of him. Maybe your husband was right? Maybe he was just trying to scare you?

The start of the honeymoon is set to be on the SS Anastasia, a proud liner with three yellow funnels, a solid superstructure and a great reputation. It is set to take the two of you to Spain, where you have decided to have the rest of your honeymoon, away from all eyes and to be with no one but each other.

A steward welcomes you on board. You thank him and give him a smile. He lets you know that your luggage, which you left down at the terminal, will be delivered straight to your cabin, a suite in first class. Only the best for the newlywed couple.

“I’m so excited to see the room”, you admit as the two of you navigate the ship to find the mani staircase.

“The agent said that it would be nice”, your husband replies and chuckles. “Now, if we only could find it …”

You laugh. It takes you nearly ten minutes to find the right door among mazes of identical white doors. The suite is divided into three rooms: a bedroom, a sitting room and a bathroom, all decorated with expensive materials and fashionable colors. Polished dark wood and electric lights.

“This is so nice”, your husband smiles, letting his eyes wander around. “I think we’ll have a good time here.”

You hug him and he chuckles, hugging you back.

“I can’t believe I married you”, he says.

Me neither, you think.

Your mind drifts back to Silas and you feel your heart sink down to your stomach. You won’t be able to relax until you know that the ship has left harbour. There’s a constant, heavy feeling in your chest that you can’t explain. But you tell yourself that it’s just that; a feeling. Nothing more than old worries that haven’t been able to come up to the surface before now. You squeeze the man tighter, sighing out. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be safe.

You have been promised a fantastic dinner, and the food delivers to your expectations. Everything is tasting like gold, served on a silverplatter. Sitting in the first class dining hall has given you an excuse to dress up. Everyone around is wearing their best clothes, and it is a silent competition in who looks the best. You look around, discreetly admiring everyone else’s attention to detail. You wonder how many of them have spent the entire day in their cabin, doing everything to look their absolutely best. The first night is usually relaxed, but a first time impression will always be remembered.

“What would you like to do after?” your husband asks and sips on his wine.

“I think I need to take a walk”, you joke.

“Oh, yes, the night sky must be so beautiful out on deck. I reckon that you’ll be able to see the stars much easier out here. No city pollution.”

You walk hand in hand down the promenade, looking up at the starry night sky, pointing at familiar shapes.

The next morning, after breakfast, the two of you walk to the lounge, deciding to take a calm day. Well deserved after planning a wedding and executing it. The lounge is cozy, reminding you of a simple living room rather than a first class room on an oceanliner. Maybe to make the passengers feel more at home.

Your husband takes the opportunity to indulge in a newspaper, finally having the time to sit down and actually read it.

You let your eyes wander around the large lounge, enjoying to admire the small details that give the room it’s cozy feel. But the feeling is quickly switched once your eyes land on someone. A man sitting in an armchair on the other side of the lounge, dark eyes feasted onto you, a small smirk playing at his lips when he notices you noticing him. You can feel your body go numb, feel yourself sink through your armchair, through the floor and through the ship’s metal. Feel yourself sink down to the bottom of the pitch black ocean. You forget how to breathe, head going blank.

He found you.

You glance towards your husband who’s still invested in today’s news. Silas raises his eyebrows testingly as you look back at him, as if to say “yes, I’ve noticed him, you think he compares to me?”.

Suddenly the air in the lounge seem to lose all oxygen. You need air, or else you will faint.

“I-I have to get some fresh air”, you hear yourself mumble.

“Are you okay?” your husband asks and looks up from his newspaper, eyes full of worry.

“Yes—”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“N-No, I’ll be fine, I’ll be back soon.”

You need to get away.

You hurry out of the lounge and out onto the enclosed promenade. The fresh air hits your face harshly. You grab onto the wall to support yourself while trying to find a way to breathe that doesn’t feel like needles poking through your throat.

“You thought I wouldn’t find you?”

You feel your heart stop. Quickly, you spin around, seeing his face way too close to yours. He tilts it, almost mockingly. You back away, stumbling over your feet and hitting your shoulder against the wall. Silas corners you, stopping you from escaping.

“What do you want?” you breathe out shakingly.

“Didn’t you get my letters?” he asks. “Or did you simply not read them?”

“Leave me alone. I-I’m married now.”

He smirks, tilting his head back and putting his hands into the back pockets of his suit pants.

“Indeed, you are”, he says and sighs out. “But do you really think that’s real?”

“What do you mean?” you almost stutter.

Silas meets your eyes. He’s smiling.

“Don’t you think I could have taken you whenever I wanted?” he asks. “The only reason you were able to marry that boring son of a bitch is because I let you. But, in the end, you belong to me. Isn’t that right?”

You don’t answer. You turn your head away, look out over the endless sea, and feel your eyes fill with tears. He wipes your tears with his thumb and you push his hand away.

“I don’t”, you say, wondering where you have gotten the sudden bravery from. “I don’t belong to you. I belong to him.”

You show him the ring on your finger. Silas clenches his jaw and grabs a hold of that hand, forcing it closer. He pulls of the golden ring, scoffs at it and throws it overboard. You gasp and try to run forward, hoping to catch it before it falls too far, but he pushes you back against the wall.

“Don’t ever say that again”, he warns you. “You don’t belong to him, how could you? I met you first. I claimed you first. He will have my seconds. Everything you do to him, you’ve done to me first. And he will never do anything as good as I did.”

“I left you because of this!” you hiss, reminding him.

“No, you left me because you were scared. You don’t understand that you are in more danger if you aren’t with me. I’m the only one that can protect you. I didn’t want you to know about it because I know you’d be scared, but—”, he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, “—but I won’t hurt you. You’re so special to me. I love you so much. You did read my letters, I can see it in your eyes. You know how much I love you.”

“Let me go”, you plead.

“No. It’s you and I til the end, don’t you remember? I’m not letting you go again. I’ve been letting you have your fun for too long now. It’s about time I take you back. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Don’t hurt him either.”

You can see his eyes darken, his jaw clench. “You decide if it’s going to be violent or not.”

You freeze in his hold.

“You can choose to come back to me, quietly and easy”, Silas starts and caresses your cheek. “We will be happy and your boy will be left alone.” He traces your jaw with his finger. “Or … you reject me and I take out my competition and take you with me once we reach Spain. No one will see you again.”

He seems to tell that you’ve stopped breathing, because he sits you down on one of the sun chairs and massage your throat. Your eyes are stuck onto nothing, empty.

“I will give you until nine”, he whispers in your ear. “If you’re not outside my cabin at nine, A-30, knocking on my door, I will kill him.”

“You’re a liar”, you breathe out, voice barely audible. “You’ll kill him either way …”

Silas shrugs simply. “Maybe, but don’t you want to take your chances? You might save him.”

Silas stands up. You sit frozen.

“Oh, and Y/N?” he says as if remembering something and looks down at you. “If I were you I wouldn’t tell anyone. You know, for obvious reasons.”

He gives you a small, teasing smile before walking back inside. You sit still, not daring to move. Worried that if you move you’ll break down and realise what’s going on. You can feel your heart pound in your ears. No. No, this can’t be happening.

“What are you doing out here?” you hear a familiar voice ask. “You’re going to get sick!”

You feel your husband hang his blazer over your shoulders. The warmth, the familiar scent from him makes your heart hang heavy in your chest. You can’t help but feel like you’ve betrayed him, as if you’ve cheated your relationship, thanks to Silas’s threat. But if you cheat on it, you might save the love of your life. Can you cancel out a bad thing with a bad thing? Is it really a bad thing then? Can you be excused?

You can’t tell him about it, but if you did, would he understand you?

“You don’t look well, actually”, he says and helps you stand. “You’ve probably already gotten sick. You should go lay down and rest.”

He helps you, slow and steady, to your suite. You lay down in bed and he tucks you in.

“Should we ring for a steward?” he asks worriedly. “Ask for some tea and some medicine?”

“No, I’m fine”, you reassure him dimly. “I just need to be alone.”

“I’m worried about you. Something happened to you. I can help you.”

No, you can’t.

“Do you want to be left alone?” he asks.

What if he gets killed?

“No, stay in here”, you wish.

He nods. You hold his hand as you lay with your eyes closed, trying to think of what to do. He was clear; whatever you do, you’ll end up with Silas. The only thing you can choose—maybe—is to save the man holding your hand and whispering reassurance to you. The nicest you can do, in this situation, is to give in and beg Silas to leave him alone. You can’t be prideful and let him kill him.

You find yourself outside cabin A-30 with your head spinning. You don’t want to do this, but what choice do you have? Your first is heavy when you lift it to knock, the sound of your knuckles hitting the polished wood seeming to echo throughout the entire ship. You can hear his footsteps on the other side and see him tower over you when he opens the door. His smirk sends a wave of nausea over you.

“So, you came in the end”, he says cockily. “Good girl/boy.”

You lower your eyes to the floor. Silas steps aside and gestures for you to walk in. You do, on heavy, unresponsive legs. He closes the door behind you, locking it. You gulp. He lingers around you like a snake and you wait for him to put his fangs into your neck and shoot his venom into you.

“You should rest”, Silas says softly and wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Let’s go to sleep.”

He leads you to the bed and lays you down, lying down behind you. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything that could scare you. You try to keep it in, but your body fails you. Sobs, quiet at first, leave your body. Tears run down your face. You hold your hand over your mouth, but Silas is close enough to hear you. He hugs you carefully and you can feel him rest his face into your shoulder.

“There’s no need to worry”, he whispers. “You're back where you belong.”

It only makes you worry more.

“Your crying makes me so sad”, Silas whispers. “Everything will be okay, little thing. You're back now.”

You don't fall asleep that night, and you're sure Silas doesn't either. His grip on you remains tight and controlling, showing no sign of drowsiness.

The sun rises outside the porthole, and you're as wide awake as ever. Silas gets out of bed and starts to dress for the day. You remain in bed, feeling too empty to move. Your eyes fall onto the tattoos on his back and arms, wondering where he got them and what they represented. But something in you tells you that you don’t want to know.

“My darling”, Silas sighs and crouches down in front of the bed, caressing your face. “You don’t need to look so sad. You and me will have fun. We can do more than you ever could with that boy of yours could. My credit card never declines.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, frowning.

“Oh? You didn't know?” His cocky face is getting on your nerves. “My men did some digging into him, and it seems like he spent a fortune on this honeymoon of yours. Barely anything left in his bank account. Poor thing was really trying to impress you, but the illusion would be all gone once you came back home. I, on the other hand, have all the money in the world.”

“Your money’s dirty.”

“Money’s money. I could launder it, and it’d be clean, but you wouldn’t accept it anyway. Which is why you’ll never get money from me. You’ll get jewelry, food, clothes—anything you want—and all you need to do in return is submit yourself to me.”

You sigh and look away.

“We don’t have to talk about this now”, Silas says and stands up. “But you will submit to me, I know you will. Get dressed now, my love, we’re going to eat breakfast.”

Food is the last thing you want right now.

“I’m not hungry”, you say.

“Do you want to stay in?” he asks. “I can go get you breakfast that you can eat later.”

You nod, whatever will make him leave you alone for a while. Silas gives you a comforting smile and pets your head before leaving the cabin. You take the time to cry, when you know that he can’t see you, planning to stop before he returns, but failing.

“Crying when you think I won’t notice?” he asks and scoffs, just a little bit amused. “Do you think I wouldn’t notice?”

He sets down a tray on the table in the room and walks over to the bed, crouching down and wiping your tears.

“You’re mine”, he says. “Crying about that boy won’t change that fact.”

You don’t answer.

“Will I have to stay in here the entire time?” you ask coldly.

“No”, he says. “Not all the time, but if you want to leave the cabin, you will be by my side. If I were you, I wouldn't try to run away from me or try to tell anyone, because the ship is filled with my men. You don’t know who they are, and they won’t bother you if you behave, but the second I tell them to keep an eye out for you, they will.”

You glare at him.

“But you wouldn’t do that, would you?” Silas asks.

“And then what?” you counter. “When we're in Spain?”

“Oh, we're not staying there. I'm not allowed there. My second in command is waiting for us there and will take us back to America as soon as we arrive.”

Oh …

“I don’t want to go back. Not with you.”

“Well, life's not fair, little thing. You should eat now. I got you all the things you told me that you liked.”

He takes you to the table in the cabin and starts to feed you the bread, the coffee and fruit. You eat, just you comply, too tired to fight with him. Fighting with a wall would be easier. A wall wouldn't talk back. A wall wouldn't threaten you.

“See how much easier it is when you obey?” Silas says.

You give him a quick gaze. He traces your cheek with his fingers.

“I look so much forward to having you all to myself”, he mumbled.

His words send icy shivers down your back.

You stay in the cabin the coming day. You wonder what your real husband is thinking of your disappearance. Sure that Silas has already done something to make him stay away … or worse.

“You're so down, baby”, Silas says. “How about we do something, hm? We have a whole ship to our amusement. There is a game room, a pool, a library, and a squash court. How about that? Why don't we play some squash?”

You nod, just to get out of the cabin. Maybe you can figure something out. Maybe you can hide.

“That's my boy/girl”, Silas says and takes your hand. “Let's go.”

Walking out with him, hand in hand, made you feel horrible. He looked so proud, so cocky.

He took you down to the squash court. He picked up a racquet and bounced a few balls.

“I hope you know the rules”, Silas said with a chuckle. “Or else I will win.”

A man came into the squash court. Silas gave the man a quick, stern look before glancing towards you, and then back at him. This is one of his men, you figure.

“Give me a second, darling”, he says and takes the man aside.

They turn their backs to you, whispering. You glance towards the door. As they mumble about something incoherent, you sneak towards the door, opening it silently and sneaking out. You run, but only get a few meters before a hand rips you back.

“Where do you think you're going?” Silas hisses in your ear.

He slams a hand over your mouth to prevent you from making any sounds and almost you back to the squash court.

“I apologize”, he mutters to his man. “Seems like my baby here can't behave.”

He holds your back firmly against his chest, hand resting securely over your mouth. “They'll learn soon enough, once they learn the consequences.”

You fight against him, but he doesn't budge.

“Stop fighting”, Silas hisses and turns to his man. “I'm sure it won't happen again, ill make sure it won't, but can you tell the others to keep an eye out for this disobedient little shit? If you ever see them wander around alone, you get me immediately. Leave us now, I need to lecture them.”

The man nods, bows slightly and leaves the squash court. Silas lets you go and you back away from him, but he's quick to corner you.

“You don't get it, do you?” he asks, and sounds a tad bit amused. “You can't escape me. And, come on, trying to do that on a ship? I really thought you were smarter than that. Where would you go? The only place you could flee would be to jump overboard. But you're stupid, not suicidal. And now, all my men keep an eye out. Just accept that your place is here, with me.”

“I want my fucking husband!” you scream. “You aren't my husband, you're a low life criminal!”

Silas’s eyes darken.

“Okay then”, he says, slowly. “If you want him so badly, go look for him. Go find him. If you do, I'll let you go with him. If not, you're mine.”

“Your men will take me back to you.”

“I'll tell them to leave you as long as you don't talk to anyone. Search everywhere. Go to the lower classes, for all I care.”

“What have you done to him?”

He smiles slightly, but it's not one out of genuine happiness, but of mockery. “Do you really want to know?”

You turn around and leave. He follows you. You barely have time to walk down the corridor before a man takes a hold of your arm. A different man from before.

“You're not supposed to walk around”, he says.

“It's okay”, Silas says a few steps behind you.

He wears his chin high, a smirk on his face and his hands in his front pockets. You rip your arm from the strange man's hold.

“My baby is using their brain”, Silas says and reaches the two of you. “We'll see where that gets them. Keep an eye so that they don't talk to anyone. We don't want to encourage talking to strangers, now do we, little thing?”

You glare at him.

“Go, then”, Silas says. “What are you waiting for?”

You don't like how he's changed. Just five minutes earlier he was set on making sure you wouldn't wander … and now he encourages it. Something has happened to your husband and you want to find him as quickly as possible.

You walk away, leaving Silas and his man in the corridor outside the squash court. You're not sure where to start. As soon as you get out of their sight, you stop and sink down alongside the wall. Needing to just catch your breath.

But you don't linger too long. Before you change your mind, you stand up and start to walk. You end up walking back and forth for hours, sure that every eye that lands on you is a member of Silas’s organization, someone being paid to make sure you obey.

You search every little corner on the ship, but your husband is nowhere to be seen. Your suite is empty, but there are signs of struggle. A glass lying on the floor, more than one person's shoe marks on the carpet. You walk over to his suitcase and take out one of his shirts. Crying as you hold it.

“Any luck?” you suddenly hear him say.

Your blurry eyes dart to the open door, seeing him lean against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks so nonchalant, so careless. How can he?

“There are words for people like you”, you sniffle with a voice draped in hate. “Did you know that?”

“What word?”

“Inhuman.”

Silas scoffs out a small smile. “If only you were as smart with thinking as you were with words, you’d have figured it out by now.”

“What?”

“You haven’t found him anywhere on the ship, and you’ve been looking for hours.”

He doesn’t have to remind you. Your aching feet is enough to make you feel your loss.

“What did you do to him?” you ask weakly.

“I have already told you, if you listened to me, you’d figured it out earlier. I said that there is only one way to escape me.”

Your eyes widen as you dart your eyes to the round porthole.

“Atta girl/boy”, Silas says, voice smooth as honey as he walks over to you.

“Y-You … y-you …”

“Don’t look at me. I didn’t do it.”

“You ordered it.”

“Are we back to the ‘dirty money’ thing again? Does it matter if I gave the instructions or not? It happened, and even if I said I gave the instructions, you wouldn’t take it.”

You hang your head heavy in your hands, crying. Silas hugs you and you try to fight back, but he doesn’t let you go. He holds you tightly, his rough hands keeping you against his body.

“Now that he’s gone, you have no other choice than to accept me whole heartedly”, he whispers in your ear. “You have no one else. Only me. Until the end of time, til death do us part.”

You sob in his hold, wanting nothing more than to escape. You manage to glance towards the porthole.

Silas holds your hand in a tight, painful grip as you walk off the ship, surrounded by a few of his men. People on the dock cheer and welcome their loved ones, but you’re pulled right through the crowd. You can’t hear any of them, your own sorrow drowning out all sounds of happiness. Silas takes you over to a car. A black haired man leans against it, but stands straight when he sees Silas. His second in command.

“Boss, there you are”, he says with a small smile. “Did you have a good voyage?”

Silas lifts your tightly intertwined hands with a smirk on his face. “What do you think?”

The second in command looks at you up and down and smirks. “Congratulations.”

“I wish we could stay here but if the cops get me I’ll be in trouble”, Silas says and pulls you close. “Let’s go to the yacht before we’re noticed.”

He helps you into the automobile and you’re off, on the way to the ship that will take you back to America. Tears run down your face silently. You shut them, trying to imagine yourself in another place, somewhere far away from Silas and his evil entourage. Somewhere where you had never crossed paths with him. Somewhere where things had turned out different. A bump in the road forces your eyes open again and you’re pulled back into the car that will take you straight to your own personalized hell, with a man who is ready to kill for you. You wish you had never allowed him to carry your groceries.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc

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