Mine

The silence of the Zenin estate’s dormitories was always heavy, but for Megumi Fushiguro, it felt suffocating whenever you weren't there to fill it.

Megumi wasn't a man of many words, nor was he prone to grand, theatrical displays of affection. His love was a quiet, physical thing—a constant gravity that pulled him toward you. He expressed himself through the weight of his palms resting on your hips while you cooked, the brush of his knuckles against yours in the hallways of Jujutsu High, and the way he seemed to need to be tethered to you at all times.

But more than anything, Megumi loved the taste of you. He was a creature of habit, and his favorite habit was tracing the map of your skin with his lips. He didn't just kiss your mouth; he worshipped the curve of your shoulder, the sensitive dip of your collarbone, and the soft skin behind your ears. He had a particular fixation on your neck, often burying his face there to inhale your scent before pressing his lips to the pulse point, sucking until a faint, blooming bruise remained—a silent warning to the world that you belonged to him.

That possessiveness had been simmering on a low flame for the past four days.

"You're late," Megumi muttered, his voice raspy.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, the moonlight filtering through the window and casting sharp shadows across his face. He didn't look up when you entered the room, but the tension in his shoulders was palpable.

"The mission ran long, Megumi. The curse was more resilient than the reports suggested," you explained softly, closing the door behind you. You were exhausted, your uniform dusty and your muscles aching from four days in the field. "Yuta and I had to track it across three different prefectures."

At the mention of Yuta Okkotsu, Megumi’s jaw tightened. He knew Yuta was a Special Grade sorcerer, a reliable ally, and a kind soul. But he also knew that Yuta was powerful, charming in an understated way, and—most importantly—had spent ninety-six hours alone with you.

"Yuta," Megumi repeated, the name sounding like a curse on his tongue. "I’m sure he was very helpful."

You sighed, walking over to him. "He was. We worked well together. But I'm home now."

You reached out to touch his hair, but he caught your wrist mid-air. His grip wasn't painful, but it was firm, unyielding. He pulled you closer until you were standing between his knees. His dark eyes searched yours, looking for something—a change, a flicker of distance, anything that suggested his place in your world had been compromised.

"You smell like him," Megumi whispered, his voice dropping an octave. "Cursed energy, wind, and... him."

"It's just the residual energy from being in close proximity, Megumi. You know that."

He didn't answer. Instead, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against your stomach. He let out a long, shaky breath, his hands sliding from your wrists to your waist, pulling you flush against him. He began to nuzzle into the fabric of your shirt, his teeth grazing the skin of your hip through the material.

Usually, this was the part where you would let him take the lead. You would melt into his touch, letting him mark you and claim you until his jealousy was appeased. But tonight, seeing the raw vulnerability hidden beneath his brooding exterior, you felt a surge of predatory heat. You were tired of being the one pursued. You wanted to be the one to break him.

"Megumi," you said, your voice low and commanding. "Look at me."

He hesitated before tilting his head back. His eyes were clouded with a mix of longing and lingering resentment.

You didn't give him a chance to speak. You leaned down, cupping his face in your hands, and kissed him. It wasn't the soft, reassuring kiss he expected. It was deep, hungry, and demanding. You tasted the surprise in his mouth before he groaned, his fingers digging into your thighs.

When you pulled back, you didn't let him go. You began to trail your lips down his jawline, mirroring the way he usually treated you. You kissed the corner of his mouth, then the sensitive skin just below his ear.

"You've been worried," you murmured against his skin, feeling him shiver. "You've been sitting here thinking about me with someone else."

"I don't like it," he confessed, his voice breaking. "I don't like the thought of you out of my sight for that long."

"Then let me remind you who I belong to," you whispered.

You pushed him back onto the bed. He went willingly, his dark hair splayed across the pillow as you climbed over him. You began a slow, deliberate descent. You kissed his throat, feeling the frantic thrum of his heart. You moved lower, unbuttoning his shirt with nimble fingers, kissing every inch of exposed skin. You lingered on his chest, your tongue swirling around his nipples until he gasped, his back arching off the mattress.

Megumi’s hands were everywhere—in your hair, clutching your waist, pressing into your back—trying to pull you back up to his lips, but you resisted. You wanted him completely undone.

"Stay still," you commanded, and for once, the prodigy of the Zenin clan obeyed.

You moved lower, your kisses trailing over the ridges of his stomach. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the way his muscles twitched under your touch. When you reached the waistband of his pants, you looked up at him. His eyes were blown wide, his breathing heavy and uneven.

"You're mine, Megumi," you said, your voice a silken thread. "Only mine."

You didn't wait for an answer. You made quick work of his belt and buttons, pulling his pants and underwear down in one fluid motion. He was already hard, pulsing with a need that had been building for days.

You took him into your hand first, sliding your palm up and down the length of him, watching the way his eyes fluttered shut and his head fell back against the headboard. Then, you leaned down and took him into your mouth.

The sound that left Megumi was something between a sob and a growl. He was usually so controlled, so composed, but under the heat of your mouth, he was falling apart. You swirled your tongue around the head of his length, sucking rhythmically, using your hands to stimulate the base.

"God, please," he choked out, his fingers tangling in your hair. He wasn't trying to pull you away anymore; he was holding you there, his hips beginning to thrust upward in a desperate, instinctive search for friction.

You increased the pace, your throat tightening as you took him deeper. You focused on the sensation of him, the way he tasted, the way his body bucked beneath you. You wanted to consume him, to erase every trace of the cold, lonely days he’d spent waiting for you.

Megumi’s breath turned into short, sharp gasps. His entire body was rigid, his toes curling into the sheets. "I'm... I'm going to—"

You didn't slow down. You sucked harder, your hand working in perfect synchronization with your mouth. You wanted him to lose that famous Zenin composure completely.

With a final, strangled cry of your name, Megumi shuddered violently. You didn't pull away as he came, swallowing every drop of him, holding him through the aftershocks of his release.

Silence returned to the room, but it was no longer heavy. It was warm, thick with the scent of sex and the quiet hum of two souls reconnecting.

You eventually moved up, crawling over his body to collapse against his chest. Megumi immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling the duvet over both of your tangled limbs. He tucked his face into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

"Don't go away again," he muttered, his voice muffled.

You smiled, closing your eyes as you felt his lips press a soft, lingering kiss to your shoulder—the first of many.

"I'm not going anywhere, Megumi. I'm right here."

He held you tighter, his hands resting possessively on your back, finally at peace now that his territory had been reclaimed.