until i found you

fushiguro megumi is not a romantic for sure. he is not the kind to walk with a skip in his steps, not the kind to giggle, not the kind to smile at mundane things.

so why the hell is he acting so different now?

as megumi lies in his bed, one phone in one hand the other over his lips, he awaits your text. underneath the hand, he has the most idiotic smile on his face and he doesn‘t even realize it. although his cheeks are as red as tomatoes and his ears are hotter than lava.

as the grey bubble with three dots appear, his mind runs and he feels impatience course through his veins. he‘s never been like this before, never felt this before. never in his life has he ever felt impatience while waiting for a text. and now here he is, feeling his mind question why it‘s taking you so long to text back.

his brows furrow deeply when the three dots disappear. his lips turn into an adorable pout as his fingers move and hover over the call symbol. however, you beat him to it.

giddily, he rolls over, pressing his back directly against the soft mattress of his bed. his lips return to it‘s curved form as he looks at the nickname he set for you on his phone 'ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭*ꨄ︎' before quickly swiping the answer button.

"hey there," your voice sends a shiver down his spine in the best way possible. "gumi?" even the sound of his name leaving past your lips has got his heart running insanely fast. he truly has the hots for you.

"‘m here," he has to clear his throat right there, afraid his voice might crack and give away the fact that he‘s grinning like an idiot with his feet bent; nearly raised off the bed. "why‘d you call?"

he hears you snort on the other side of the phone, shuffling. "can i not miss my own boyfriend?" you roll your eyes, although your lips are widely spread just like his.

at your words megumi‘s mind screams 'eureka!' his eyes turn to slits as he places his phone over his heart that beats for you. he silently giggles and laughs; hand shadowing the stupid smile on his lips. while his feet are suddenly up the air, kicking in a silly manner.

"‘gumi? you still there?" his nickname is once again uttered, and he feels blessed by the gods. your mere voice sends him to the skies, making him yearn for your presence beside him right this instant.

"‘course, yeah, 'm always here." he speaks quick like an idiot, disguising the fact that he feels like a stupid teenager talking to their crush over the phone.

"can you just stay on the phone and talk about your day? 'm really tired. i just wanna sleep and listen to you." fushiguro megumi still cannot contain himself as he practically dies and falls on the floor; his joy unable to contain itself.

"yeah, okay." he smiles, laying on the floor before continuing and speaking of his day— which was spent just thinking about you. the grin he holds never leaves his face, instead it becomes bigger as he imagines your sleepy face.

he just feels content, like a young teen in love, even though you two have been together for the last two years.

[very suggestive content!]

red bone

surely, you‘d think that playing beach volleyball would be all fun and games. there would be no strong negative feelings, just joy as you enjoy the heat and humidity by the beach.

it was like that.

until it wasn‘t.

it’s fushiguro toji who feels his anger rise with every passing second.

he watches your darling face as you play volleyball with gojo satoru. in his eyes, you look unbelievably delectable for someone who‘s only playing volleyball. the way your smile beats the beams of the sun is something that‘s so eye capturing.

but that isn‘t the only eye capturing thing in here.

the way your pretty bikini slowly hikes up with every effort you exert to jump high to catch the ball is not something that he thought he would be witnessing today, yet here he is.

it wouldn’t have been bothering him, had it been you and him playing. he probably would have made you jump on purpose. he‘d love the way your tits would bounce, and with every little action your bikini hikes up, showing more and more of your underboob before it just gives up and shows your pretty tits.

but now that you‘re playing with gojo who seems to be doing what he would have done, he feel his anger rising instead of his erection.

he can see the shit eating grin gojo holds as he makes every hit high just to make you jump and expose more skin. that action does nothing but make the irk on toji‘s forehead grow.

with a click of his tongue, he stands up from his seat. and as he does so, he notices that gojo isn‘t the only one looking at your boobs bounce. almost everyone in the beach is doing so.

a scowl shows on his handsome face as he grabs a bottle of water and opens it before he stops where the rope indication is and calls you over.

you look at him then nod, walking over and calling a break. the smile on your face almost makes his anger dissipate. the sweat that makes your body glisten makes his mouth water like a dog in heat, but he holds it in.

"hey baby," you smile as he stretches out his hand to hand you the bottle. he smiles back and motions you close up until you’re only centimetres apart.

"enjoyin' yourself sweetheart?" he asks so innocently, as if his hand isn‘t rising in the most sensual way known to man. deft fingers trailing on your sides up until they‘re halfway your ribcage.

"mhm. i haven‘t had this much fun with volleyball in such a long time." you smile.

toji smiles sweetly back at you, all while side-eying gojo who has his eyes on your tits that are already half exposed, something you somehow hadn’t noticed yet.

toji‘s eye twitches before his hands ghost your tits. "mhm, seems like it." he then places his hands directly on the bottom hem of your bra and pulls it down. "seems like your partner is as well."

"gojo? yeah he‘s—"

you don‘t get to finish yourself. not when his large hands suddenly squeeze your tits sweetly. you almost emit a moan, but not when his mouth covers yours for a sweet kiss.

your eyes fall naturally close as your hands wrap themselves around his neck. but his eyes remain open. he makes eye contact with gojo whose eyes suddenly burn with jealousy seeing you fall putty into toji‘s hands.

though they don‘t exchange words, toji sends him a message with his eyes, something that goes along the lines of:

you can look, but you can‘t touch what‘s mine.

it‘s the modern time, but the set is quite similar to that of the eighties. men clad in suits, women dressed in body tight dresses bedazzled in jewels, and others attired in something fancy. rich people talking about their lavish stacks of money with a cigarette hanging between their lips, their hand wrapped around someones waist. the filth of their mouths piquing your ears as you stand in the middle of the stage.

you sing as you eye the people and in return, they all look at you with fevour. they can‘t seem to keep their hungry eyes on the person they‘re conversing with, way too entranced with the way you move like the undisrupted ocean waters. they all painfully try to get you to just take a glimpse of them but they all seem to fail pitifully as your eyes are laid on the man with some of his hair fallen between his eyes. one side of his scared lips curled up to a smirk as he leans on his chair, his hand holding a deck of cards and the other placed on the woman to his left. there‘s a long white stick in-between his lips, and it looks expensive, something worth three times you cheque, you assume.

the pristine white sleeves of his button up rolled up meanwhile a vest perfectly frames his toned body. his blazer hangs on his chair he sits on, while his feet are spread wide, showcasing his enticing thighs. there’s a chuckle that leaves past his lips as he drops his deck of cards to the table. golden rings adorn his long fingers, some of them jeweled others plain. but what has strikes up to you is how his ring finger is bare of any decorum, presenting that he is single, presumably.

and the longer you stare at the man, the more you feel the need to be around him, the more you want the feel of him, the more you want to feel his body pressed against yours as he holds you and kisses you like there‘s nothing else in this world that matters, like you‘re worth more than the money he spends all night through gambling.

he is no idiot. he can see and feel your burning gaze even without his eyes meeting yours. he finds in endearing and daring that you‘re pinned on him in this sea of young rich people. there are more out there who want a piece of you, more who would land at your feet and would kiss the toes of your leg. he is none of them. though as delightful as it may seem, he has no desire for such affection. he only yearns for someone, someone who would beg him to stay even if meant they‘d have to kneel on salt, someone so lost in him that they‘d drop their everything for him, someone so gone in him that they‘d take a bullet for him if that meant that they‘d get to hold him in the middle of the night.

it is no easy task to find someone like that. someone who would literally die for him. however, when toji fushiguro signed a piece of paper and gave to the waiter, telling him to hand it to the beautiful singer in the stage. he found himself awaiting in the balcony of the casino, cigar between his lips, as he awaits up until he hears that same sweet voice from behind him.

"you called for me, mister fushiguro?"

don‘t steal this. i‘m gonna write this. if you do i‘ll gut you.

i don‘t know how to love

how do you look someone in the eye after you had just completely broke their heart into pieces before their eyes?

that‘s a question fushiguro wants to know that answer to.

he watches your eyes glisten with liquid not long before your tears shed down to the apples of your burning cheeks. the vicious, yet pained look in your eyes will be a constant reminder to him that he is no different from the monster he calls his father.

"really, megumi? is this how you fuck me over after i gave it my all?" are the first words you utter to him after what seems to be an eternity of silence. words laced with both resentment and agony, voice quivering with every sob that leaves past your lips. in his whole entire life: he‘s sure he has never heard anything more bitter than that.

"it‘s not working out anymore. why would you want to force it?" his words are monotonous contrary to the whirring storm of unidentified emotions inside his heart. there are so many things he wants to say, so many things to tell you, so many things he wants to admit, but he‘s not brave enough to do that.