hellowoolf

[hellowoolf]

𝒹oin' 𝓉ime 𓍯𓂃 𝓈ummer 𝒷ash 𝒸ollab 🐚

your dream destination on the coast of the amalfi waters in italy awaits 𓂃 ོ☼𓂃

𓍯𓂃 pairing: assistantfem!reader x childhoodfriend/prositute!toji

𓍯𓂃 synopsis: sparkling turquoise waters, hidden coves, and limoncello for days in the illustrious city on the amalfi coast was just how you wanted to start your work-trip—now instead struggling to find a room for the night thanks to your arrogant boss leaving you to fend for yourself. yet your hopes begin to float just above the surface when your fate crashes with your old childhood neighbor with a questionable past but an annoyingly dashing charm beneath the sun-kissed shore glow. it really is a small world after all.

𓍯𓂃 contents: mentions of mamaguro and abusive zenin clan, canon au (curses, toji is a sex worker) but not canon compliant, explicit smut, oral f! recieving, fingering, piv, unprotected sex, mentions of birth control, creampie, pussy spitting, and grand theft auto because what is a vacation without crime? reader and toji are arrested, bittersweet ending.

𓍯𓂃 a/n: this oneshot is part of my summer bash collab that i have been lucky enough to get a ton of other writers on board with! please please go check out the other fics, wholeheartedly enjoyed reading them, you will not be disappointed <3. also thank you to everyone who dealt with my imposter syndrome of figuring out which fic i was going to release haha. enjoy !!

𓍯𓂃 wc: 10.3k ; 𓍯𓂃 archive

art credit unknown ; please reach out if you find it!

🏷️ ; @nialovessatoru @ri-sa20 @angel-vee-writes @howmanytimesamigoingtotrythis @fanficreaders-stuff @heh123321 @mjsjshhd

LESS THAN 24 HOURS AGO, you hadn’t expected to end your work trip early—locked away in an Italian jail cell with a familiar face and a wicked tongue to keep you company.

𓂃 ོ☼𓂃🥥 ࿔*:･🌊˚⋆𓇼˚🌴

Anantara Convento di Amalfi Grand Hotel — July 22nd, 8:48 PM

“It’s… no problem. Really,” you reassured, clutching the clasp of your suitcase, feeling your left eye twitch involuntarily due to a sickening amalgamation of sleep deprivation, consistent stress, and bottled irritation.

All of which you hoped would be relieved within the following moments, but you were direly wrong.

Your boss pursed her lips into a pout, feigning a whine as she ran her manicured fingers down her milky braid as if she were petting a feline. “Are you sure?” She purred out, cocking her head in mock sympathy.

You nodded curtly, despite wanting to shove your foot between her teeth.

She grinned, dropping her handbag onto the floor and pulling you into a tight hug, her bergamot perfume overriding your senses and silver bracelets digging into your back. “You really are the greatest assistant. You know that?” She queried rhetorically, drawing the flat of her palm up and down your shoulder blade.

You stiffened, feeling your teeth grind against each other before peeling yourself from her. “Night, Mei Mei.”

She was like a giggling schoolgirl, her boyfriend dragging her back inside as she kicked her slippers off. You watched her blouse fall from her shoulders as he pushed the door shut.

An elongated sigh left your lips as you stared at the closed wooden door, feeling the jet lag settle on your rigid shoulders.

You’d been brought along for a work trip with your boss and her boyfriend to the Amalfi Coast. The pastel villages, exquisite cuisine, charming cliffsides and lulling beaches… who would say no to that? Plus your expenses were covered.

You weren’t quite sure what exactly she did for work but you arranged her schedules with some of the most haughty and arrogant men you’d seen in your life—whispering to each other about how a mere girl like you carrying no ‘energy’ was dragged to a meeting of such high importance. 

Weird.

You’d also helped her with her finances, which you definitely could assume were somewhat laundry-ing resemblant, but you didn’t care enough to look into it when she’d line your pockets pretty well for making her days far too easy.

This trip, however, was her transferring between businesses as one of her side hustles seemed to be bustling on the coast of Italy.

You came across her on a job site during your gap year, where she’d offered far too much for a regular assistant, so who were you not to apply?

Yet, you’d realized why exactly she couldn’t keep an assistant for the life of her. She was selfish and lax with everyone but herself, making it damn near impossible to simmer your temper when she’d call an uber for herself and ask if you could take the  city bus because she wanted to rest her Birkin bag on the leather seat.

You endured it, though. And you bit your lip at every throttling turn.

Because after this summer, you’d be throwing the towel in with stuffed pockets.

You trudged down the hallway, lugging two bags with you that were far too much for a weekend stay.

The Anantara Convento Di Amalfi Grand Hotel was where you’d be staying, or where you should have been staying.

It seems that she’d invited her brother last minute along with his friends to arrive the next day and they’d be taking your room instead.

Thus, leaving you to figure out room arrangements while the sun was beginning to set, all on your own.

“Are you sure that you guys don’t have a single suite? I’ll take anything,” you pleaded, hands resting against the counter as you tried to keep your voice low to avoid stares.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. But, no. The hotel is booked for the next two weeks,” a brunette receptionist stated, pursing her lips into that customer service grin despite delivering blowing news.

You gave her a gentle smile, rubbing the crease in your forehead formed from exhaustion and stress. “Thanks, anyway.”

You dragged your things out of the lobby, not without admiring the intricate filigrees adorning the grand archways and the bougainvillea’s sprawling across stygian metallic railings, their ornamental vines and bushes flourishing without restraint.

The 13th-century Capuchin convent was built just across the Amalfi Coast and the Tyrrhenian Sea, the salt water wafting into the breeze and flitting your tresses past your back.

You lugged your things down the steps, head on a swivel so that your things wouldn’t get swiped. 

Reaching the coastline where it was fairly empty, you plopped down on the sand, crossing your legs, hands rubbing your blistered ankles. Your bleak gaze followed the shoreline until you made out the iconic Ravello tree in the distance, the umbrella shape hanging over.

There was a young couple perched beside it, embracing each other as someone snapped a photo of them. Probably another tourist, you guessed as they thanked them and both parties hurried off in separate directions.

They were most likely on their honeymoon up here, indulging in their newlywed love as things were still shiny and fresh.

You broke your trained gaze, peering at the sea.

The tide was higher now, ebb and flow rushing and making its course. There were a few families still dipping their toes in the water as the sun kissed the horizon, soft giggles flitting in the evening breeze.

You tugged your sneakers off, taking your socks with them to stuff them into your soles and shoving your toes beneath the sand.

Warm, moist, and you’d be regretting this come time you had to actually find a place to crash and regrettably would slide your sand-speckled feet into the confines of your shoes.

As you pulled your legs to your chest and watched the waves begin to curl and crash mightier, you watched a small boy slip his floaties off and jump into the impact of the moving water.

Your eyes narrowed, watching as he dove beneath the surface, waving at his parents on the shore who were too busy scrolling on their phones on their beach towel.

The sight made you all but scowl.

Your attention turned back to the tide, but now the kid was nowhere to be seen.

You hopped to your feet immediately, peering around to see that the nearest lifeguard station was a couple blocks down and swallowing thickly.

Your feet tapped towards the water, praying this kid would pop back up.

And he eventually did.

But his arms were flailing just above the crashing waves, his brunette hair sticking out as he gasped for air.

Your eyebrows nearly shot up to your hairline, sprinting towards the shore as the cold water felt like ice against your warm skin and dress pants.

But that didn’t slow you down, not even a bit.

You pushed against the current until the water reached your midsection, drenching your navy blazer in salt water as you lifted your arms over the surface and began treading your feet, the ocean floor dipping nauseatingly beneath you.

The chilling water was now at your chin, your pulse roaring in your ears as you kicked your feet, but you felt dreadfully too far away. The young boy was thrashing helplessly and completely out of your reach, a black lump settling in your gut at the realization.

You were too far.

But that’s when water droplets speckled your cheek, splashing against you.

You turned to the side, a mess of dark hair padding incredibly quickly towards the young boy desperate for air. 

The stranger's thick arms came up and over as he scooped the water behind him, reaching out to the boy and tugging him above water.

The young boy gasped for air, throwing his arms over the burly man’s shoulders and began coughing and crying, his face beet red from the lack of oxygen caved in on its own.

You sighed, shoulders slumping in relief as your legs continued treading in the water.

But suddenly, you felt something slick brush against your foot.

You yelped, peering down into the deep blue water, unable to make out anything as the sun began to set, your heart racing in your chest.

All your mind could resort to was the thought of a shark at this far away from shore, thus commence your screaming and splashing around towards the shore, inhaling massive gulps of salt water that burned your chest.

The stranger now noticed the second person drowning within a couple minute span, rolling his eyes and stroking over to you, pulling you flush against his muscled side.

You heaved, quickly clinging to him like a koala as water dripped from your face, wrapping your legs around his waist and feeling his massive hand curl around yours.

“T-There’s something in the water,” you cried out, salt-stung eyes darting across the surface before you heard a ‘tch.’

You turned your head up, your eyebrows furrowing immediately, a rock dropping to the pit of your gut.

“...Zenin?”

Your red-rimmed eyes matched his viridescent ones, darting between them as your pulse quickened, a wave of nostalgia throttling you worse than the crashing tide.

Water dripped from the tips of his raven-colored tresses, the crease between his eyes settling as surprise washed over him.

“Hey, bird.”

You inhaled sharply at that nickname, fingers curling in the fabric of his compression shirt. You opened your mouth to say something, but was starkly interrupted.

“Fish,” the young boy on his other bicep coughed out, pointing out the bass that was wading in the water.

You cringed, glancing at Toji, before giggling to yourself.

He huffed at your stupidity, legs working overtime to keep the three of you afloat.

You noticed, fingers and caged thighs releasing him swiftly as you dipped back into the water to swim to shore.

𓂃 ོ☼𓂃🥥 ࿔*:･🌊˚⋆𓇼˚🌴

Amalfi Coastline — July 22nd, 10:02 PM

“Thank you again, sir!” The young boy called from meters away, his parents dragging him away and scolding him for removing his floaties.

You giggled at the sight, hands wrenching your blouse and watching as it plastered to your skin with a see-through sheen.

Toji grunted, removing his black tabis and pouring water from them, scowling at the sight of a hermit falling out of it. “Kids are fucking dumb.”

You nodded, stepping over to your luggage and dusting sand from it. “Oh, I agree. Growing up I knew a really dumb one,” you chuckled to yourself, tossing your handbag over your shoulder.

Toji ignored your pointed comment. “So what? You just left all of your stuff here when you can barely swim?” He scoffed, running a hand through his damp hair.

You shivered, the night air unforgiving and nipping at your wet skin. “Well, last time you saw me, I was still a teenager who thought it was far too cool to take a dip. I’m a changed woman,” you shrugged with a smirk, cocking your head at him.

There was an odd flutter in your chest simply laying eyes on him again, somewhat childish and yen.

Backtrack nearly over a decade ago, your family was next door neighbors to a massive estate in rural Japan. And as curious as you were and as rebellious as Toji was, the two of you would find each other lingering near the outskirts of your homes.

He’d tug your braids, you’d punch him square in the jaw, he’d trip you into brush, and you’d cry for your parents.

You stole a chicken from their coup and he’d steal your sandals from the patio.

There was always something… amiss with what went on within their estate, but your parents told you not to question it as it’s none of your business and you assumed his clan was just tight knit and traditionalist.

So life was quiet, humble. But Toji made your heart thrum.

That was, until he’d climbed into your bedroom window right after your sixteenth birthday.

He stood there awkwardly, shuffling in his shoes, before poking your cheek to wake you up.

You nearly screamed until he covered your mouth, effectively shutting you up with bulging eyes.

“I’m leaving,” he whispered, the corner of his lip torn vertically.

Young you couldn’t understand the severity of the situation, stumbling over your words. But you had a semblance of why.

He’d never ask you to come with him, to put that burden upon your shoulders when his issues were larger than your small world.

You could only stare, teary-eyed before he climbed in with you after peeling his shoes off.

You were both stiff as cardboard beside each other, not uttering a word until your breathing steadied and your chest rose and fell rhythmically.

Toji couldn’t sleep that night. Too afraid of letting a moment with you fall away by merely blinking.

He was gone at dawn, whispering a quiet “see ya, bird,” more for himself than you before slipping out of the rustic window.

That was the last time you’d seen him.

You swallowed a thick lump in your throat at the remembrance, how you’d been quite upset at his absence. His family didn’t care one bit the few times you’d gone to ask. It seemed as if they were glad that their young teenager had gone missing.

On the other hand, Toji seemed… excited to see you again.

His eyes danced over your figure, the wet fabric clinging to your form like a second skin, a grin dancing across his lips.

You scowled deeply, your previous sentimental state brushed away, reaching for your shoe and tossed it straight at his head. “Perv.”

He dodged with ease, hands resting in his pockets, before jutting his chin at you. “What’re you doing in Italy of all fucking places?”

You frowned at the question, plopping onto your suitcase and hunching over. “I don’t knowww,” you groaned, stuffing your head into your hands. “I’m an assistant for the most arrogant, selfish and cheap woman I’ve ever come across.” You spat, wanting to rake your nails across your cheeks.

His eyebrows lifted at your admission. “Sounds just like my boss. Where you stayin’ for the night?”

You peeked through your fingers, peering up at him with a pout. “...Toji?”

He knitted his eyebrows. “What?”

“I’ll do anything if you let me crash with you.”

Toji took a reluctant step back, head tilting skeptically. “What? You ain’t book a hotel or nothing?”

You shook your head. “My boss fucked me over.”

“Fuck,” he exhaled, running his tongue over his lower lip. “Well, it’s been nice to see you—,” he started, a tight, half-assed smirk before he began padding away.

You hopped to your feet with desperation in your eyes, running to his side, fingers curling around his forearm that was far too corded and veiny. “Toji, toji. Please. I beg of you. There’s no affordable hotel for miles and I have no energy to go searching at this hour. Please,” you pleaded, staring up at him with wide orbs. 

He glanced down at you from his shoulder, his expression unreadable, mulling it over in his head. 

His hand lifted, fingers moving to pry you from him and waving a dismissive hand. “Best of luck to ya.”

You could feel your teeth clench, gritting against each other. Kicking your shoes off, you ran full-throttle towards him, thankful that the coast was basically empty at this hour so no one could witness your flailing state.

You stared at his broad back, closing the distance with your quick speed, ready to pounce at him with sharpened claws.

This time, Toji didn’t care to dodge. 

You made it easy enough tripping over your own foot and falling flat onto your face into the pebbly sand.

He glanced behind his back, watching you writhe around in pain as you nearly broke your nose, doubling over with a boisterous laugh. “Christ, you never change do you?” He said between laughs, keening over with a hand over his stomach as he made his way over to you.

You looked up, a fiery rage dancing in your eyes as you hopped forward to wrap your arms around his bulky calf. “Don’t you dare leave me out here.”

He eyed you with mild irritation now, your grip only tightening by the second of your own understanding that he’d sprint in the opposite direction the minute you let go. “Unhand me,” he spoke with finality.

“No.” You hmph-ed, tilting your head up at him with your lips pursed.

Your resolve was maddening.

Toji had to ignore the view of your cleavage he got from the angle, choking on his own saliva and averting his gaze towards the horizon, masking it with a cough as his ears burned red. “Get up,” he scoffed, wiggling his foot to free you.

“Take me with you then.”

He paused, then a drawn out sigh left his lips. “You really are persistent.”

You beamed.

𓂃 ོ☼𓂃🥥 ࿔*:･🌊˚⋆𓇼˚🌴

Somewhere along Corso Italia (the Sorrento Main Street) — July 22nd, 10:34 PM

“So where are we going?”

Toji was currently lugging your suitcase and had your bag tossed over his shoulder, a scowl etched into his face in harsh lines. “My place.”

You tilted your head. “Did you move here?”

He shook his head. “Nah. Staying here for work. Meeting with my boss in the morning.”

You perked up at that. After not seeing him for quite some time, you cannot even pinpoint what exactly he’d been interested in as a kid. He was hostile, liked punching and breaking things, but besides that you didn’t know much.

He was homeschooled and trained in some sort of martial arts on one of the many estate yards, so maybe he was some sort of athlete.

“What do you do?”

He narrowed his eyes, avoiding a drunken couple with their feet kicked out in a vineyard lined alcove. “This and that.”

You cringed. “Wow. So specific,” you sarcastically muttered.

He drew silent, focused on trudging up the steep and stony sidewalk as the two of you swayed back and forth.

You fell a few paces behind due to his lengthy strides, and it gave you maximum time to take in his figure.

He’d definitely grown into himself. When you'd last seen him, he was only an inch taller than you and still quite lanky. His hair was always a shaggy mess, face littered with pink pimples and his lips chapped and dry from the ways he’d chewed it.

Now? He was more than a head taller than you and annoyingly buff. He wore a black compression top that left little to imagination as you could see every ridge and crevice of his washboard abs and bulky biceps.

Toji felt your gaze glued to him like wet paper, peering behind him to give you a sardonic and sly smile.

Your eyes widened, withdrawing like a cowardly soldier and fixing your gaze elsewhere. 

He chuckled low, jutting his chin at a building and guiding your direction towards it. You followed him up a set of stone steps, eyes glancing around the intricate filigree of flowers, and terracotta and rustic details, painting a gorgeous glow in the evening light.

Stepping past the receptionist desk where a young lady was scrolling on her phone, he padded onto winding steps with black metal railings that coiled into complex florals and stems.

“Why’re you staying here?” You queried at his back as he dragged your things up each step with casual ease. “It’s not really… what I’d expect for a work trip.”

He grunted a huff of laughter. “And you wouldn’t expect to understand what I do for work, bird.”

“You know, the whole ‘macho mystery man’ look is getting old,” you deadpanned with finger quotes, despite him not being able to see it. “I’ve literally seen you trip over your own feet and fling your arms at nothing.”

“Well, thankfully I’ll only have to indulge in your presence for the evening since I’m kicking you out at dawn,” he retorted, using his toes to push the door open after shoving his key into the keyhole.

“Yeah yeah I’ll get out of your hair—.” You cut yourself off when you got a view of the room. Don’t get it wrong here, the room was fucking gorgeous.

The issue? There was a singular bed.

You huffed a derisive laugh, swiveling your head to your childhood friend. “So I’m guessing this is where I’m staying and you’ve got another room?”

He looked at you over his shoulder as he tossed your bag onto the mussed mattress, where you can only assume he slept in the night before. “Fuck are you talking about? There’s a pullout couch.”

You laughed incredulously at him, not even caring that you could get a noise complaint at this hour. “...Seriously?”

He turned around, crossing his arms over his chest and cocking his head. “Nah. Wouldn’t even be our first time sharing a room, anyway.”

You twitched at that, your heart stalling in your chest for a moment as words died on your tongue. You didn’t even think he remembered.

Give it to Toji for making things weird.

“Uhm. Just… give me a second.”

You hurried out of the room, shuffling down the steps and stopping right before the jaded receptionist at the front, heart roaring in your ears. “Are you guys fully booked for the night?”

She had her legs and arms crossed, peering up at you whilst smacking her gum, an annoyed and tired expression coloring her. She leaned over the computer and clicked a few things out of your view. “We’ve got one room left.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, feeling your shoulders slump. “Perfect. I’ll take it.”

She gave you a tight smile. “It’s our presidential suite, however. It requires proof of high status such as dignitaries or heads of states. Otherwise, we keep it open.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at that. “What? Who the hell cares who I am if I’m a paying customer?”

She shrugged, panning her screen towards you. “Well, can you afford it?”

Your gaze followed the screen, squinting against the harsh light, when you made out the multiple zero’s coming after the euro symbol, your maw falling slack.

The walk back to Toji’s suite was a dreadful one, dragging your feet and pushing the door open with your head downcast.

The television was now droning on with some static-y hotel-like cable sitcom that aired after hours, enough to make you shiver.

Your bags were in the same place Toji had left them, but the man was nowhere to be seen. Your eyebrows drew in as your head turned on a swivel, peeking into the bathroom and the closet, as if he were waiting to jump out and catch you off guard like a deer in headlights, but no.

“Oi. Come here,” you heard his voice bellow past the open balcony door.

Your head cocked, following the sound out onto the balcony, the white drapes flitting in the warm night breeze. Peering over the edge, you could see Toji just one floor down, veiny forearms and broad shoulders draped over the edge of some hot tub, the roman-style pool beside it empty.

It was a beautiful set-up, the area littered with potted plants and shrubbery from poppies to sunflowers to roses, giving it a bright and colorful glow even in the night.

Toji was sporting black swim trousers, shirtless as the water pooled around his massive pecs. Your thighs subconsciously rubbed against each other at the drooling sight, before you tore your gaze to match his, just the slightest bit curious how on Earth he made it down there without you noticing.

You could imagine him scaling the balcony wall, hopping down barefoot all primal-like.

Hugging yourself, you leaned down to yell-whisper, “Uh, no thanks. I think I’ll just get some sleep.”

He ran his tongue over his lower lip, eyes dancing across you. “Couldn’t get a room, huh?”

You shook your head in defeat.

“Alright, well don’t let your first night in La Dolce Vita go to waste just because you’re a little scared of talking to me,” he teased with an accusatory tone, adjusting his manspread. 

You rolled your eyes at his gall, ready to bite back. “I’m not scared of you, Zenin.”

“Prove it, bird.” He called, voice husky and resonating through the charge air.

You clicked your tongue, narrowing your eyes, the slightest bit pissed that Toji was unbelievably talented at riling you up. He knew you far too well, even after all this time.

“Give me five minutes.”

You turned on your heel, heading back into the room and parsing through your bag for your swim trunks.

You’d brought two.

One that you could wear around your boss and her boyfriend without feeling unprofessional, a basic white one piece with a few frills, modest enough. The second, however, was a strappy two-piece that quite literally left nothing to imagination.

You’d packed the latter in case you’d had a night to yourself and would be able to possibly hook up with someone fun you’d come across, a bit of a reach of your expectations but you always came prepared.

That’s not what you were planning here though, with Toji—no way in hell, that was nowhere near the front of your mind… ahem.

You simply wanted to get back at the audacious man. Let him know if he could make you uncomfortable, you had no issue doing the same to him.

You grabbed a lotus claw clip and tied your hair up, slipping into the suit and adjusting it so that your cleavage was on full view before slipping your sandals on and padding quickly down.

The air managed to retain the humidity of the day near the pool, carried with scents of damp earth and the blooming of night flowers unfurling beneath the moonlight. Chlorine was thrown into the mix, a nostalgic chemical fragrance that made your chest thrum in content.

There was the murmur of croaking frogs and chirping insects as ambience, along with your flip flops slapping against the concrete floors.

As you rounded the corner after snagging a towel to tie around your waist, you were able to find Toji resting with his head thrown back, chest rising and falling.

Anyone would believe he was knocked out. But the guy just had steady breaths, almost imperceptible if you didn’t lean in incredibly close.

You neared him, his head lifting as you climbed the metal steps to the hot tub, tossing your legs over. It was incredibly warm, enough to make your bare biceps shiver.

“Quit callin’ me Zenin,” he murmured, eyes lidded and low like he’d just awakened from a slumber.

You cocked your head in keenness. “And why’s that?”

“Took my late wife’s last name. It’s Fushiguro now.”

You opened your mouth to reply, the mention of the word ‘late’ swiping your heart. He really had lived an entire life since you’d last seen him—not only getting married, but losing someone that mattered to him.

And it was even more abundantly clear that he didn’t affiliate himself with his old life.

“I’m sorry. For your loss,” you whispered into the night, resting your cheek on your shoulder.

He eyed you again, just like he did on the shoreline, something wicked glinting in his eyes and it was enough to make you bristle. “Not getting in?” He queried skeptically with a hum, dragging his tongue across his lower lip.

Effectively changing the subject and making your stomach somersault.

You shuffled, tucking your trembling hands beneath your thighs, pausing as the two of you held a staring contact. 

The water jet pumped water beneath the surface, bubbling foam near your knees, the slightest bit tempting to take a dip and allow the stresses of the day to unwind with the underwater massage.

In the end, you clicked your tongue, giving in as you sank inside slowly.

Toji didn’t falter, still donning that casual smirk that made your skin litter with goosebumps.

“I hope you know this proves that I’m not scared of you,,” you chuckled, dipping your arms beneath the surface. You were ignoring how Toji’s eyes flickered to the swell of your breasts every couple of seconds or lingered over your bare thighs.

“Still not good enough for me,” he humored, bringing his hand underwater to adjust his crotch. You tore your gaze from following his movements like a prude.

“Oh really? So what is good enough for you?” You pushed, annoyed at how small this hotel's hot tub was. Your knees were nearly knocking against Toji’s and making you shift.

He didn’t answer that, simply flexed his fingers and watched you for a few moments. Enough to make your heart pound in your ears.

“Wanna get outta here?” He gruffed, pushing himself off the tile seat and looming over you.

You stared up with saucer-eyes, trying to hide just how you wanted to admire him from this limited distance. “And go where?”

He held a hand out, and you took it, rough and calloused from years of brutal training. He pulled you up harshly, enough to have you slamming into his warm chest dripping with pool water. 

You stilled, his finger tips grazing the crown of your ear as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning down to whisper. His breath was warm, fanning over your heated skin. 

“Do you trust me?”

𓂃 ོ☼𓂃🥥 ࿔*:･🌊˚⋆𓇼˚🌴

The narrow streets of Ravello — July 23rd, 12:34 AM

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

Toji grinned at your discontent, hunching over the Vespa he was currently hotwiring perched against a closed shop door. “You into that?”

You ignored the smug comment meant to rile you up, head on a swivel as you smiled sheepishly at the sparse stragglers at the late hour, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

Through gritted teeth, you kicked Toji’s shin that was unmoving. “How the hell am I supposed to trust you when you key some random vehicle in a foreign country?”

The lights flickered on, the wheels jerking forward just a bit before he caught it and chuckled. “Jesus, woman. You used to be fun,” he groaned, grabbing a helmet perched on the side.

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Well, excuse me if I have a moral compass—“.

Your words were cut short as he plopped the open face, half-helmet over your head, giving it a few light taps against the side to rock your skull before leaning down to peek through the visor. “You comin’ or what?”

You could feel your jaw twitch as your eyes narrowed. This was a bad idea. A really, really bad idea. The streetlight flickering in and out of work above your heads wasn’t soothing your nerves either.

But you couldn’t lie and say part of you wasn’t tempted.

You’d lived as an uptight, somewhat prude for the last few years, focusing on furthering your career and doing something with your dull life. You’d turned down weekend plans with your friends to pick up shifts for the interning position at some conglomerate company that went sideways just to get a few extra letters of recommendation, spent far too much money on coffee runs and shopping at Zara for business casual attire, and stayed up at odd hours of the night to fix a coworkers report just because you wanted to make a good impression.

You were letting some of the best years of your life slip right from your fingertips.

You huffed a sigh of resignation. “You better not kill me.”

“Don’t count on it.”

He tossed a leg over, seating himself as his swim trousers planted wet stains over the leather seat. Neither of you cared to get changed, but you insisted on running up to grab at least a tee shirt, where he ended up offering his.

Hence, you sporting one of his faded graphic tees that smelled of fresh linen, sun-dried laundry, plum-resemblant notes and a musk so undeniably him it made your head spin.

“You gettin’ on or what?”

Rolling your eyes, you threw your leg over the back and wove your hands warily around his midsection, hands hovering above his hardened abdomen.

“Yeah, just like that if you wanna fall off and turn to brain matter on the road.”

You shivered at the imagery as his hands ran over yours, tugging your wrists tighter, simultaneously shoving the kickstand up with his foot and revving the matcha green scooter.

You nestled your helmeted head against his broad back, feeling your brain spin with adrenaline as he turned the steers, pulling onto the street and speeding up as if the police were on his tail.

You peered up, squinting through the tinted visor, the sky clouded with light pollution and clouds. The sparkling city lights illuminated the water, thus the skyline, the moon hanging large low in the sky. Dangerously, you reached your hand out as the wind whipped past you, tracing the outline of it with a glint in your eyes.

“The moon… she’s gorgeous tonight,” you yelled over the whistling wind.

Toji peeked back over his shoulder for just a moment, capturing your enamored expression and feeling his chest clench. “Yeah. She is.”

You dropped your hand, reaching back over Toji’s waist and holding tightly as he bobbed and weaved through late night traffic, the model of the Vespa allowing him to reach nearly seventy miles an hour. He drove along the Strada Statale 163, massive limestone and sedentary rock looming over in massive cliffs, archways for the path shrouded in vibrant green moss.

Meters down, the water smashed against rocks as the moon tugged the tide higher, the ambience making your body thrum and resonate in a way you’d never felt.

You felt so fucking free.

There were the picturesque villages perched upon the cliffs you’d been excited to see, the kind of thing you only witnessed on stock images. Enormous homes of off-white and pastel yellow dotted across, with still pools glittering beneath the moonlight in an ethereal sheen.

And just in the distance could you see a party bustling wildly, bodies thrashing near the shore and twirling in outfits far too fancy for a regular beach club.

“Pull over!” You shouted over the roaring wind, Toji peering over his shoulder to toss you a sideways look. He grunted, then veered onto the shoulder where you could peer over the cliff.

You quickly hopped off, tugging the helmet from your head and setting it upon the saddle, padding over to hunch over the railing to get a better view.

“Hey. Careful. I’m not gonna jump in after you if you fall over,” he scoffed, hunched over the steering handles, raven locks falling unruly over his forehead as he studied you with a soft admiration.

You looked really cute in his shirt.

You ignored his wounding side comment, pointing towards the shoreline. “I wanna go there.”

His eyebrows drew in before he dismounted the saddle, following your gaze and releasing a low chuckle. “The wedding?” He peered down, an incredulous laugh parting his lips.

“It’s a night ceremony! I’ve always wanted to see one.”

He chuckled, flicking your forehead before shrugging. “Whatever the princess wants.”

𓂃 ོ☼𓂃🥥 ࿔*:･🌊˚⋆𓇼˚🌴

The Amalfi Coastline, …Once Again — July 23rd, 1:34 AM

“You think anyone will be able to notice we’re not on either the bride or groom's side?”

Toji chuckled, adjusting his collar in the side mirror of the stolen Vespa before returning to his full height. “Not at all.” He purred with a smirk, eyes dancing over where you adjusted the hem of your dress.

The two of you shuffled down the mound of sand, attempting to join the reception as inconspicuously as possible. There had to be at least 200 writhing bodies, the glitter of a mandolin and jingles of tamburellos twirling away with the tide.

You’d stopped by a night mall minutes ago, snagging a sundress and a linen top for Toji, all on top of your swim wear.

You spotted the bride as the two of you shuffled in, adorned in a gorgeous and milky midi-gown as she twirled in her lover's arms. Something twisted in your heart as she pressed a chaste kiss against the inside of his wrist and he cooed something into her ear—a private, tender moment you were having a little peek into you.

“Got the goods,” Toji grinned, sliding a champagne glass into your hand and tossing back his in one fell swoop.

You scoffed with a gentle laugh, the breeze flitting the hem of your dress frivolously. “You’re supposed to savor it, Toji.”

He grunted with a shrug, swiftly placing his glass on a passing waiter's tray and trying not to topple it over. “All going down the same hole anyway.”

You gingerly nursed your drink, rocking on your heels as you slowly took in the scene. “You’re crass.”

“You’re uptight.”

Your gaze rapidly fixed on his eyes, a wave of irritation mixed with melancholy rocking you. “I guess we haven’t changed, then.”

A nasty curl crawled upon his lips before he clicked his tongue. “Touché.”

Your stomach swelled with butterflies as he placed his hand on your lower back, leading you to the middle of the sea of revelers.

The music was loud, and obscenely so, house and electro themes mixed in with the cultural palette, arms flailing and legs twisting with the rhythm.

Toji’s hands slipped to your hips, eyeing you from the bridge of his nose, before he spun you and pulled you flush against him with your back to his hardened chest.

And he leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss behind your ear before whispering. “Don’t tell me you’ve gotten rusty with those dance moves.”

You flinched, the feel of his warm breath fanning over your lobe tickling you, a flutter of giggles leaving you. “Nope. I’ve only gotten better in your absence,” you teased, a sly peek past your shoulder as you pressed your ass against his crotch.

Toji bit the inside of his cheek, digging his finger pads into the curve of your hips, knowing you were only egging him on. “It seems like someone’s getting ahead of themselves,” he grunted with a growl, something carnal flickering in his murky green irises.

You shrugged lazily, stepping away from his hold and raking your fingers through your hair, not even caring that you had an audience now with a few men tossing you primal stares. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You tossed your head back, not even sure where this newfound sense of courage came from, possibly the inebriating liquid coursing through your bloodstream or the newfound intoxicating presence of your first love.

But you couldn’t care. Not when things were feeling good for the first time in a long time. You didn’t care that you had to be up at the crack of dawn with Mei Mei’s cold brew and agenda neatly sorted out.

You were in one of the most captivating places you’d ever seen with a man who was currently stalking towards you like you were his last meal on earth.

And everything felt so good.

Your dress was beginning to hike up, giving Toji a peek of the curve of your ass, your hands dragging down your frame, your cleavage nearly spilling out with each jump of your body.

And God, you looked divine in his eyes that sucked in each movement of yours.

With the moonlight cascading over you coupled with the flickering strobe lights painting you in colorful hues, Toji’s tongue was thick in his maw, utterly starstruck at your beauty.

You could see how enraptured he was, could feel the taut nostalgia between you like a tight string ready to unravel with his hands on you.

So you slowed your movements, padding over to him with a light sway of your hips, placing a hand on his bicep. You stood on your tiptoes to whisper into his ear, “Follow me.”

Like a beckoned dog, he was on your heel as you hurried over towards a shack near the edge of the coastline, cliff side hanging over it and allowing midnight to envelop the space.

You stopped before the shut door of the worn down shed, hands tugging at the metal lock keeping the door shut with a frown.

Toji peered over your shoulder, wrapping a massive hand around the icy metal and with a couple quick tugs, the lock broke off.

“What the…?”

Before you could question his insanely brutish strength, Toji had his lips against yours. You could taste the whiskey he’d snagged just a few moments ago lingering on his tongue as he pushed it between your parted lips.

And you were learning the hard way that not only was Toji not a gentle kisser, but he did not enjoy being teased.

His hands tapped the side of your thighs, signaling you to jump up and wrap your arms around his massive shoulders and cage your thighs around his waist.

He stepped into the shed, one arm keeping you flush against his body while the other slammed the door shut, nearly causing it to fly off of its hinges with his impatience, a flutter of excitement bubbling in your core.

There was a wooden work bench covered in gritty sand and toolbox supplies but with one swipe of Toji’s massive arm, he cleared it and set you atop.

His formidable form still managed to loom over you as he pressed both hands beside your thighs, lips moving with such a feverish need that it had your fingers curling around his collar and craning your head painfully back.

One hand of his wrapped around the small of your back and tugged your body against his body harsh enough that you could feel his bulge press against your clothed cunt, drawing a whine from you.

“F-fuck,” you muttered, legs trembling with a sudden need to feel him. So you tugged his collar downwards, breaking the kiss and peering up at him with wide and luster pupils.

And his were so far blown wide, hazy and riveted, cheeks tinged with a soft blush as you pressed your hands onto his shoulders to lower him.

Once he was kneeled, he gazed up at you with a reverent understanding, chest swelling with pride for how good he knew he was going to make you feel in just a few moments. 

His fingers danced up your thighs, the heat of his fingers enough to make slick pool in your swim bottoms that he dragged off.

His hands found the underside of your thighs, grasping the plush feel and pressing them upwards. Your back hit the rickety window behind you, clasping a hand on the wobbly wooden shelf above your head to stabilize yourself.

His breath warmed against your slobbering folds, and right when you expected a delicate lap at your juices—.

SPLAT!

Toji spat right into your cunt, bringing two fingers up to splay your folds and allow his gaze to commit the imagery to his photographic memory. “You’re fucking unbelievable,” he grunted beneath his shallow breath as if speaking to your pussy, nearly out of it before he leaned forward and began to suck on your pulsing clit.

You gasped, free hand flying to his raven tresses and fisting a clump of hair as your back arched off of the glass behind you. And you could feel the satisfied grin against your throbbing sex at your physical response, before he dragged a languid stripe from your fluttering entrance up to your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Your mind was as dizzy as Toji was pussydrunk, muttering how your squelching core was speaking obscenities back to him, nibbling and nipping at the area like a whiny dog.

With your fist gripping his hair, you were making it easier for Toji to dig his nose between your drooling folds. “Taste… fuckin’ amazing,” he spoke directly into you, earning a strangled hiccup from you.

Two deft digits prodded your entrance, scissoring inside and opening up past that ring of resistance. “Jesus, woman. So tight,” he muttered against your throbbing hood, teasing you with kitten licks as he peers up to watch you tremble.

Your hips buck against his fingers that have now been sucked in to the knuckle, nudging against all those plush spaces within you that have you keening for more. “Mmf… hck—Toj’…” you whimper out, only making pearly seed dribble from the tip of Toji’s clothed cock that was painfully pressing against his bottoms.

“God, you’re killin’ me,” he huffs, angling his fingers just right to stretch you open and teeter you right on the edge of insanity and reality. He’s practically splitting your fluttering cunt with his thick fingers, treacly liquid dripping onto his open palm.

You were on cloud fucking nine, bucking your hips lazily into his face and dragging his pointed nose between your most sensitive spots, something swelling in your gut as your groans only began to crescendo.

“Thattttt’s it, sweetheart,” he babbled with a woozy slur, nearly out of his mind at this point with the way he was talking to your cunt like it was speaking to him. “Show me how much you’ve been wanting this.”

And he was just breathing you, consuming every groan and every twitch leaving your body and reveling in the way your nails dig into his scalp, threatening to tear tufts with your needy hold.

He’d allow your slobbering sex to be the last thing he’d see on this planet.

His fingers dragged against your gummy walls, nudging the perfect spots like he’d memorized them ages ago and was merely revisiting an old friend when in reality this was his very first chance at getting beneath your thighs.

“C-close,” you mewled out, chest rising and dropping swiftly before you’re left nearly tipping over.

And with an obscene pop! Toji sucks onto your dripping folds between his lips and pulls away.

You whine at the absence as he slips his fingers from your needy hole, now clenching around nothing.

He makes haste to his feet and gets rid of his trousers, your eyes going wide at not only the fact that he’d been going commando but his cock was…

“Massive, right?”

He was unbelievably hard and unbelievably blessed—angry and flushed cockhead weeping and twitching with each passing second he wasn’t stuffing you with his cock.

Your eyes darted back up to his sly grin, heart stuttering in utter shock and anticipation quickly melting into excitement as he plugged your parted lips with his fingers.

“You ever taste yourself before?” He hums with lidded eyes, squeezing your thigh with one of his hands as he settles between them.

You run your tongue across his fingers, watching as his orbs hungrily take you in, a curt nod of your head making his breath hitch.

“Dirty girl,” he chuckles huskily, before aligning himself with your entrance. “You on the pill?”

He slips his fingers from your lips, bringing them down to your neglected bundle of nerves to work you up again. “Mhm,” you whine, bracing your hands against his biceps as you steadied yourself for the stretch.

And oh was it a bigggg stretch, a strangled cry leaving your lips as he began to split you on his girth with no remorse. A stuttered hiccup left your lips as you began to push against his forearms to pry him from you, tears threatening your waterline with each excruciating inch.

“I know, I know, baby,” he huffed, nuzzling his head against the top of your head, holding his own moans back as he stilled to allow you to adjust. “We gotta make it fit.”

After a few unbearable moments, the pain began to subside, replaced with a pleasure that made your pelvis cant against his.

“Thereee you go,” he groaned, pushing into your fluttering cunt that began to suck him in deeper by the second into your sticky cavern.

It didn’t take long for Toji to work up a cadence that had you bracing for each rut, hands gripping the bench as he rocked into you, head knocking against the wood.

“Fuck, woman,” he nearly barked out, slamming a hand above your head to steady himself as his thighs jammed into yours. “Fucking chokin’ me.”

He looked incredibly irritated with how good it felt to be inside of you, as if it were almost unfair. Perspiration dotted his knitted brow line, mouth contorted into a scowl as if he couldn’t control himself. Couldn’t get nearly enough.

Now you were clawing at his biceps, mouth slack as the shelf above you began to teeter with each sway of the rickety shed, items slipping and falling off, but the two of you were too far into your lust to even notice.

“T-there, mmph! Right there,” you squealed, fingers fisting the fabric of his linen top as his cockhead bumped your cervix, veins dragging against your syrupy walls in a way that felt oh so good, coaxing your denied orgasm from you.

And Toji was rambling at this point, dragging his face through your hair with groans of how you were so wet, how your cunt was a vice, how you were the perfect girl for him.

You’re positive you’ve never seen him speak so much.

With one particularly hard thrust, he bottomed out, filling you to the brim with his swollen girth, your breath catching in your lungs like his cock was prodding them.

That was enough for you to scream his name out, vocal cords rattling as your juices gushed all over his sloppy shaft while your climax was ripped out from you, Toji following suit within moments and wadding you with his seed.

You threw your head back with one final groan, sweat dripping down your back, desperately trying to catch your breath.

Toji dropped his head, cock stilling inside of you, nuzzling the swell of your breasts as your breaths aligned. He peppered your mounds with delicate kisses, a touch so tender it had your mind spinning.

Yet, the two of you were woefully interrupted in your newfound bliss.

THUD THUD.

Both of your heads shot towards the shut door.

“The two of you done in there?” A muffled voice rang out from the other side.

You and Toji exchanged a look of surprise, before you slapped a hand over your mouth to mask your giggles.

No way someone had heard the two of you.

Toji, as fucked out as he looked, was able to grin against your jugular, hands squeezing the velveteen plush of your thighs.

“Police. Open up.”

The two of you immediately stilled, faces pallid and blood drawn from your expressions.

No… no no no.

This cannot be happening.

Your ears began to ring as you dragged your dreadful gaze towards the door, making out the flicker of neon blues and reds from the small gaps in the wood.

You peered back to Toji whose eyes were suddenly dialled, glancing around the cramped shed, and you could see him mapping out an escape plan in his emerald irises.

“Toj’,” you pouted out, feeling your eyes brim with tears as a wave of fear cascaded over you.

He looked back down at you, lids narrowed, the wrinkles beside his eyes crinkling at your expression. He sighed, placing a hand on your cheek before glancing back at the door, resigned to your nerves. “It’ll be okay. We’ll, uh. We’ll talk to them.”

𓂃 ོ☼𓂃🥥 ࿔*:･🌊˚⋆𓇼˚🌴

…The Back of a Ford Police Cruiser — July 23rd, 2:31 AM

Your hands were shackled in your lap, teary gaze fixed on the grid partition before you as Toji shuffled with his metal cuffs. “Ya know,” he started, dragging the handcuffs against each other as he stared at the chain resting in his lap. “We’re kinda like Bonnie and Clyde now.”

You slowly dragged your gaze back towards him, stomach lurching at the fact that you were a possible felon in a foreign country and Toji was cracking jokes.

He matched your gaze, swallowing thickly at the tears rolling down your cheeks before shutting up.

At least he found it funny.

Amalfi Police Department — July 23rd, 4:22 AM

“I told you already officer, I did not flee my country,” you whined out, practically bobbing up and down in your seat as the police officer before you who was running on fumes and black coffee stared bleakly back at you. 

They were convinced you and Toji were repeat offenders who’d escaped their homeland to hide here. You couldn’t say anything for Toji, but you were scared of even driving 3 miles above the speed limit on the freeway, much less committing a crime.

“Well, we do not have much information since the two of you aren’t carrying valid identification,” the man sighed out, digging his thumbs into his temples. “Not to mention, the two of you are intoxicated. Whose to tell that the two of you didn’t commit a DUI?”

You melted into your seat, nibbling on your lip in worry, miffed that Toji was dozing off in his metal seat with his head lulling backwards.

You promptly kicked his shin, to which he jumped at, hiccuping as he groggily glanced around his surroundings and yawned. “Hm? I’m awake.” You frowned, feeling your tears bubble up once more before Toji cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh. Do you think I could make a phone call?”

The detective was out of it at this point, weakly waving their hand to dismiss him. A security guard guided him towards a phone booth, Toji winking in your direction to which you scowled at.

If it came to it, you were ready to throw the guy under the bus. He had hotwired the car, right? It’s not like they’d find any of your finger prints on the steering handles.

But your consciousness couldn’t let you do that. Especially after…

You peered away from the officer who was jadedly scrutinizing you, hoping your blush wouldn’t give away that you were daydreaming of what his colleagues caught you and Toji doing back in the shed.

No. Curse whoever called the cops on the two of you.

You bobbed your knee up and down in deflected anger.

Tattletale.

𓂃 ོ☼𓂃🥥 ࿔*:･🌊˚⋆𓇼˚🌴

A Jail Cell in the Amalfi Police Department — July 23rd, 6:01 AM

You jerked awake, the sound of a baton dragging against metal startling you from your slumber. You’d fallen asleep against Toji’s shoulder, the man in question knocked out with his head against the wall while your drool dribbled onto his now wrinkled linen top.

You rubbed your eyes, your mascara streaking beneath your eyes to make out the figures before you. The same security guard who’d escorted you, the evil police officer who wished you he could sentence you to life and…

“Mei Mei?” You hoarsely queried with a perplexed stare, a sense of relief hitting you at the sight of your boss.

She cocked her head to the side, seemingly surprised to see you as well. “Well, what do we have here?” She posed, stiletto tapping mindlessly against the tile floors.

Toji shivered awake, a yawn leaving his lips as he adjusted in his seat. He hummed, a sly and content grin crawling upon his face. 

“So this is how we meet again?” Mei Mei quirked, vexed gaze pointed towards Toji who looked far too pleased with himself.

“You know me,” he easily retorted, tossing an arm over your shoulder like it was second nature.

Your confused gaze flickered between your boss and Toji. “...Do you two know each other?

Toji huffed a laugh. “She’s my boss.”

Mei Mei lifted a palm, rolling her eyes as the police officer and security irritatedly walked off. “I merely set you up with my clients,” she scoffed, seemingly discontent with the fact that they could be in business. “And don’t think you don’t owe me for calling in a favor to get you out of here.”

You stood up, hands waving between them in utter bewilderment. “What? She’s my boss. Okay wait. What the hell do the two of you do for work?”

The both of them eyed you warily, exchanging a glance before Toji sighed in resignation at the realization that Mei Mei was the selfish boss you’d worked for. “Bird, she’s what you’d call…”

“Pick your words carefully.”

He chuckled at Mei Mei’s blunt resentment for him. “A madame. And I’m one of her escorts.”

Your eyes widened at the implication. “...You’re a…?”

“Prostitute.”  He bluntly stated.

You leaned forward, maw falling slack, words dying on your tongue as he rendered you speechless.

He raked his fingers through his windswept and dishevelled hair, dryly laughing. “Don’t worry, I’m all tested, baby.”

Mei Mei gasped, seemingly picking up on context clues of how the two of you would be here, head spinning towards you. “My my…” she started, tugging the jail cell open with a grin. “Your cherry has finally been popped!”

You swatted the air next to her in exasperation. “Not a virgin, FYI,” you tried to make the statement abundantly clear, reluctantly glancing at Toji who was more than pleased with the situation he’d gotten himself into.

“Well. The cat’s out of the bag,” Mei Mei swiftly spoke, placing her hands on her hips and giving you a deliberate once-over. “And you look incredibly good with the whole afterglow, the streaked mascara and mussed appearance,” she noted, placing a finger against her lip contemplatively. “Honestly, I thought you wouldn’t be able to handle the information of my business with your… constitution,” she added, and you had to wonder what exactly she meant before she continued. “Have you ever considered being a sex worker?”

Your eyebrows nearly touched your hairline at her tangent. “Excuse me?”

She sighed, taking a few steps back. “You’re not cut out for it, I see. But one day…” she mysteriously piqued, treading backwards and waving the two of you off.

You watched her retreating form with knitted eyebrows, feeling the slightest bit satisfied now that you knew what exactly she did for work but still feeling amiss by the curveball thrown in your direction.

Massive arms snaked around your waist before you could question it further, Toji digging his face into the crook of your neck. “So…” he started, pressing a tender kiss against the skin he’d nipped for the first time mere hours ago. “That was fun.”

You quickly spun, smacking his chest with a scowl. “You idiot. Why didn’t you tell me?”

He worried his lip between his teeth at your temper. “I mean, how do you tell your first love that you’re in the prostitution business?”

You gaped, heart stuttering at his confession. “...First love?”

“Shut it.”

“Okay.”

The two of you eyed each other for a moment, something unfurling in your chest that made you feel like your feet were being lifted from the ground, actively ascending to heaven. “You’re still vulgar.”

“And you’re still a puritan.”

You tried your best to conceal a giggle, but failed pathetically and Toji pawed at his chest like the same feeling was blooming beneath those hardened pecs. “So, bird. Where to next?”

You rolled your eyes, striding from the jail cell with Toji on your heel. “Hopefully not another police department.”

“Aw shucks,” he sarcastically jeered, brushing his shoulder against yours.

You glanced up, head buzzing with something akin to yearning, studying his features for a moment before staring at your footfalls. “I’m taking the first flight back in the morning.”

He was quiet for a few moments. “Right.”

“Think you’d ever visit our hometown again?”

Toji wanted to say never. To say he’d never step foot near the Zenin estate. But part of him knew he’d find his way on your parents' steps, searching for you like he’d wished he’d done all of these years. Despite delving into a marriage he thought would fix him but only left him with a corpse and in ruins, he knew where home was.

Just took him far too long to realize it.

The backs of his fingertips brushed against yours, a tinge of blush coloring the crowns of his ears. “Yeah. Definitely."

You grinned at that, butterflies erupting in your stomach. “Well, then. I hope fate allows us to run into each other again. Without the feature of committing a felony.”

He chuckled low, a bittersweet sense of longing dawning upon him. “I’d like that too.”

The two of you collected your things from clear baskets, digging for your electronics and sliding into your shoes with stiff expressions as the owner of the Vespa stared the two of you down.

They were cursing on and on about how the two of you were evil creatures who’d sworn to plague him, also hinting that they’d need settlement money and wanted to hire a lawyer, but the officer quieted them down with a groan, pulling out a thick stack of paperwork that they’d have to work through.

It seems that arrogant and selfish Mei Mei really got the two of you out of a serious pickle, even if she used her evil and corrupt methods to do so.

You stepped outside, scrolling through your phone for an uber as Toji got into Mei Mei’s car. He quickly tossed you his key, a genuine grin playing on his lips. “Duty calls, right?”

You tugged your lower lip between your teeth, longing bubbling in your gut, before you hurried over to Toji.

You placed a hand against his chest, lifting on your tiptoes to place a tender kiss against his lips, pulling away with heated cheeks. “Don’t be a stranger,” you whispered, hoping that he couldn’t notice that you were on the verge of tears for the nth time in the previous 24 hours.

He grinned, eyes darting between your lips and eyes, as if he couldn’t catch his breath around you. “Would never do such a thing.”

[hellowoolf]

i screeched in a public place being added to this list. i <3 you indie

indie's must reads

my personal favorites fics of mine

only ones who know starring villain!Gojo + hero!Geto

no. one party anthem starring childhood fwb!Sukuna + rockstar!Geto

cyberbully!Sukuna

slim pickins starring toxic!Satosugu + rebound!Sukuna

snowed in starring yeti!Gojo

paranoid android! starring robot!Reader

how to babytrap marry your best friend starring baby daddy!Geto

simply ear-resistable! starring bunny!Geto

(don't) kiss me starring fwb!Geto

prince charming starring prince!Gojo + bandit!Sukuna

faking it starring broke!Geto + tattoo artist!Sukuna

the king's cock crown starring emperor!Gojo

test drive starring f1!Sukuna

my favorite fics from other blogs

what you know starring Sukuna by @starmapz

well, are you mine? starring Sukuna by @madamechrissy

the drowning starring Geto by @peppertoastuniverse

beat your heart to death starring Gojo + Geto by @specialgradefckr

the parasite starring Sukuna by @yenayaps

aita for stealing my hookup's cat? starring Geto by @toadtoru -> now @ken-toad

roll for initiative starring Gojo + Geto by @snail-day

nice to meow-t you starring Geto by @baepsays

bound to be starring Sukuna by @/baepsays

not just anybody starring Sukuna by @/yenayaps

isekai'd as game protag starring Gojo by @sixeyesonathiel

dilf!Kento starring Nanami by @webism

billion dollar man starring Sukuna by @emphism

untitled drabble starring Sukuna by @deathofacupid

a cat-astophric curse starring Nanami (acct deactivated)

convergence theory starring Geto + Gojo by @deathofacupid

untitled drabble starring Gojo by @redrrem

scorched earth starring Gojo by @nanamiskentos

armageddon starring jjk!men by @/nanamiskentos

the fool's guide to romance starring Geto by @cuntyji

wherever you go, that's where I'll follow starring Gojo by @milawritess

spoiled starring nanami + toji by @edenarchives

currit in sanguine nostra starring Sukuna by @ccazimi

alien!Choso by @gossamyrrh

untitled drabble starring Gojo by @cuntphoric

infect me with your love starring Gojo by @fushitoru

kiss it better starring Sukuna by @kunareads

symbiosis starring Geto by @spearofheaven

some assembly required starring Sukuna by @cupidstrace

buried treasure starring Gojo by @starmapz

way out there starring Sukuna by @lily-bisque

false heaven starring Gojo + Geto by @nialovessatoru

fucking with your ex is iconic starring Sukuna by @letteremi

mama I'm in love with a criminal starring Sukuna by @j3llyc4kes

miss conway, with love starring Gojo by @hellowoolf

birds of a feather starring Sukuna by @sukunahs

sugar sweet starring Gojo by @theorphicangel

put me in a movie starring Geto by @eraserbread

silent confessions starring Nanami @v1x3n

if I say your name starring Gojo by @kuncitizen

it's a bad idea, right? starring Geto by @gojom0jo

newton's law in brat taming starring Gojo by @edensrose

lovegame starring Gojo + Geto by @all-with-angel

fuck you (on that bike) starring Sukuna by @gojosconsort

web of secrets starring Gojo by @junos-chronicles

my favorite smaus

short n sweet starring jjk!men by @tsukuhoe

nine lives starring Sukuna by @cherryblossom-heart

who is she? starring jjk!men by @cherryblossom-heart

hospital room starring jjk!men by @digitalro

aphrodisiac starring jjk!men by @naammiii

the other woman starring Gojo by @cinnamorollcrybaby

just a pretty face starring jjk!men by @loveyislost

my main masterlist is here

there were so many others I wanted to include but I tried to keep this from getting too long >.< other recs can be found on my blog using #indiesrecs *reminder to PLEASE read rules and content warnings posted for each fic* also highly recommend checking out all of these blogs since they have so many more pieces than I can list here <3

[hellowoolf]

MR. BRIGHTSIDE ── ✦ suguru x fem!reader

✦ ── synopsis: you were married to a man like him, and he had no idea why. 18+

“Ah.”

Skin was smacking skin with a sickening echo peltering the chipped walls—the suite potent with a heady musk and the undeniable smell of unadulterated sex. You were an austere image against it, posture pulled taut and lips pressed thin, allowing the looming man beside you to watch your reaction unfold like a soap opera.

Your gaze flickered to the mildly violating and vulgar scene on the motel bed, your husband's twitching shaft slipping into a woman you didn’t recognize in the slightest, then back to the man standing stock-still beside you. This stranger had beckoned you here via the lack of discretion of the teenager manning the front desk who’d nervously parsed through your husband’s—frequent—guest history and spotted your emergency phone number. 

It made you question your husbands cheating prowess—sloppy and lazy like he was in nearly every other aspect of his life. It was more embarrassing to be married to a cheater who couldn’t conceal it properly than a plain adulterer.

A bleak sense of understanding washed over you, your ostensible purpose of appearing here like a lightbulb flitting on above your head as you paced around the room to grab his bearings scattered like your wedding vows. “Naoya, let’s go,” you clicked, like an owner goading their dog to stop harassing the neighbor's cat.

The man in question’s luster and hazel pupils flashed towards you shuffling near the doorway, orbs suddenly wide and petrified, cock stilling inside the groaning girl's cunt. She was currently fisting the starchy duvet that must be itching her palms incessantly but was actively ignoring just like her matrimony. Naoya’s heart lurched at your chilling and monotone voice, his incriminated expression making you bristle. 

His mistress's glossy gaze passed over to you in irritation at the interruption, until she noticed who was standing just past you.

She hopped to her feet, eyes nearly shot from their sockets, lips immediately quivering as she searched for her robe and a sense of mercy in the man’s eyes. “S-Sugu!” She called out, voice trembling, comparable to her relationship hung on a strained string.

You paid no attention to the way she ran into his arms—collapsing against the stocky man’s solid chest and babbling about how she’d made yet another mistake—instead hiking your handbag up your shoulder and tugging your husband along.

“I do apologize… for this,” you quickly imparted to the raven-haired man whose name you didn’t even catch after the strange encounter. You’d barely uttered a word to one another before shoving the motel door open to see your partners entangled. 

You almost forgot your formalities, dipping your head in silent bow, then slipping past the couple, who probably wouldn’t be a couple for much longer, and into the hallway.

“Shit, I didn’t mean to—.”

“Save it. Did she take any pictures?” You swiftly interrupted, head glancing around the dimly lit corridor for any possible passersby, but it was thankfully empty.

Naoya warily shook his head, struggling to button up the dress shirt he’d left the house with just this morning.

You sighed at his fumbling fingers, stepping in front of him to smooth the wrinkled fabric of his collar, ignoring the smeared lipstick with a shade you certainly didn’t own. “Can’t walk out of here looking like this. Fix your hair,” you promptly instructed, nags akin to a scolding mother.

He scoffed like an exasperated teenager, running his fingers through his dyed blonde and disheveled hair. “Who on Earth is going to be waiting outside of a dingy love hotel between a standing soba shop and a hole in the wall izakaya?”

You lazily shrugged at his condescending inquiry. “I was.”

—

Suguru was far too worried that his blood pressure had spiked yet again, utilizing the breathing exercises bestowed upon him by his heavensent therapist to ground him in reality instead of vexation.

“I-I know I said that it would be the last time, b-but,” Manami was huffing and puffing, crocodile tears streaming down her flushed cheeks as Suguru dug his thumb into the crease between his drawn eyebrows.

Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard.

He could really go for a session right now, stress balls and fluffy pillows at hand.

Sometimes he thinks he was out of his mind marrying Manami.

Correction: Most of the time.

“Suda,” he sighed, voice laced with nothing short of exhaustion and disappointment—as if this was the exact thing he could have suspected from her. “Let’s just… go home.”

She wiped her cheeks with the backs of her hands, struggling to get even a breath of air into her lungs as he searched for her panties like a mindless child cleaning up their siblings' toys.

He should’ve scolded her, been bitter and resentful like last time.

But right now, he wasn’t quite sure he was feeling anything for her. Their love had died a long time ago, withered with his trust and her fidelity.

His mind was instead fixed on the mystery woman as she slipped into the night, fixed in a blazer like she’d just gotten off of a shift and running mere errands instead of catching her husband wetting his dick with his wife.

Was Suguru tactless? Calling an unknowing wife over to let her know that “there was something that she’d like to see” before showcasing their partners in the throes of passion.

Possibly. But he expected more. The waterworks, the heartbreak, the shattered cries and tossing of wedding bands before stomping out.

But you were smooth as stone, expressions dull and grey, mirroring exactly what he felt inside for his counterpart.

It spurred far too much curiosity in his gut, a scratch he needed to itch direly.

He raked his finger through his silky stygian hair as he passed an unclasped lace bra to his partner, eyes gazing off into the distance thoughtfully, unaware of the way the supposed ‘love of his life’ was rambling about how she’d find a way to mend things.

He couldn’t care less, her voice drowning out with the hum and buzz of the shabby motel air conditioning, tugging his lip between his teeth in slow contemplation.

You were married to a man like him, and he had no idea why.

But he was damned if he wasn’t going to find out for himself.

a/n: hello to my suguru piece ahem @spearofheaven @riveredmoon. part two !?!?!…

[hellowoolf]

faking it

refund | previous chapter | chapter index

everyone has a price - even suguru geto

synopsis: with no friends and a wallet full of cash, you concoct one last idea to make your final semester one to remember. paying everyone's favorite pretty playboy to pretend to be your boyfriend to complete your college bucket list before you start the life your family is forcing you into. but you might be buying far more than you bargained for.

pairings: broke!Geto x rich!Reader x dropout!Sukuna

content: mdni, smut and angst and fluff, college au, fake dating, pining, yearning, reader is a bit oblivious, drinking, emotional discomfort, anxious reader, dancing, making out, light nipple play, Yuki is a tease, jealousy, oral sex (f! receiving)

a/n: probs should've split this in two chaps lol way longer than the typical faking it chapter there are absolutely typos and autocorrect I missed so apologies in advance hehe

art by @aransmind !!

You were starting to think this was a date.

Sukuna's hands hadn't left your hips since you walked in the club. You weren't stupid enough to not recognize the protectiveness in it, keeping you close to him as you shuffled through the thick throng of bodies but it was teetering dangerously close to possessive. Fingers digging in like he wanted to leave prints, proof that you were with him.

Even now, tucked away in the corner booth after drink number three (or four) at the bar, he had an arm wrapped around your waist, fingers resting on your hip like the position was only natural.

You kept pulling down the hem of your dress, readjusting and anxiously glancing up at him to make sure his attention hadn't drifted away from you.

The whole conversation with Suguru in the parking lot a few hours ago had left an awful taste in your mouth. Maybe putting off having the rest of it was immature. But you didn't want to ruin your night - and he had that look on his face like a parent about to tell his kid their favorite pet passed away. A lingering anxiety curdled in your stomach, threatening to rise like bile in your throat every time Sukuna's eyes shifted to someone else, at each vibration of your phone in your purse where it was still hooked over your elbow.

"Cho," Yuki tilted her head to the side as she slurred purred. Her head was resting on his dark hair on the opposite side of the booth, long legs sprawled out underneath the table so her foot kept bumping into your legs. "Go get us more drinks."

"Shots? Cocktails?" Her boyfriend frowned, brow furrowed together while he tried to guess what she wanted. "Whiskey?"

"I dunno," She shrugged. "Something strong."

He chuckled, sliding out of the booth. But Sukuna started to slide out too.

"What do you want?" Sukuna leaned down to ask in your ear, his breath warm and his mouth soft on your skin.

"Oh, um, anything," You shrugged, swallowing hard. You barely managed to get down everything else Yuki had ordered for you so far, all of it mixing not-so-great in your gut now.

He nodded, and you watched them disappear into the crowd towards the bar.

"So," Yuki immediately started, a lopsided smile on her face as she raised a manicured brow. "You and Sukuna?"

"Yeah?" Your blush was already giving you away.

"Are you guys, like, dating?" She teased, flipping a long blond strand over her shoulder as she leaned over.

"No, I mean, I don't think so," You mumbled, forcing yourself to speak up to be heard over the music.

"Cho said he was jealous over some guys that came into the shop today," She revealed and you couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous that sounded.

There was no way Sukuna was jealous of Satoru or Suguru. Why would he be?

Suguru didn't have to pretend to like you there. He was polite enough to not say anything about the humiliating fact you'd paid him to pretend to be your boyfriend, even paying you a compliment when you were alone. And sure, you told Sukuna they were your friends, but you weren't really sure you could call either of them that.

You'd never see Suguru after graduation. Maybe you'd catch Satoru at country clubs or fancy events years from now, probably with whatever pretty girl on his arm his parents convinced him to marry.

That was how life went.

You were never meant to be anything more than a passing face to either of them. And in a couple months, well, more like a couple weeks, you'd just be a memory.

But maybe if you clung hard enough to Sukuna, you could change whatever was supposed to happen to you too. Slip through the cracks of your parents' grip and be someone's actual girlfriend for once. Be someone.

Carve out a temporary place for yourself out of their reach and pretend it was permanent.

"He likes you," She casually said, and your brain flashed back to him saying the same thing. You wished it felt less unbelievable. Like it was happening to someone else instead of you.

You still wanted to deny it. Dismiss it.

"I'm sure he's been with lots of girls though," You swallowed hard, trying not to think of how many girls here tonight would like to fuck him.

"Yeah, but he's usually just a casual sex kind of guy, I don't know if I've ever actually seen him like someone," Yuki commented, and you got the impression it was supposed to make you feel better or even special.

But thinking about Sukuna having casual sex, all the experience he'd have compared to your lonely handful of kisses? Some of which were only pity kisses?

Would you just be a disappointment to him too? Would it make him uncomfortable if you told him you were a virgin?

You glanced back towards the bar, trying to spot him, a flash of pink hair above the crowd, his tattoos or the color of his shirt, any sign of him. Seeking out reassurance in his sturdy frame.

"How'd you and Choso start dating?" You asked in an attempt to distract yourself when you had no luck.

"I asked him on a date and fucked him afterwards," She shrugged, like it was simple for her. Love wasn't a question or a problem to solve. It was just hers the same way Choso was.

She picked up his whiskey glass and swallowed the last few drops left in it. Tilting her head to the side like she was reevaluating you.

"You and Sukuna haven't had sex yet, right?" She asked, curious.

"N-no," You stammered, well aware of how blunt she was and still somehow managing to be stunned by it.

"You want to though?" She continued, effortlessly making it sound easy. Inevitable.

And yeah, if you were being honest, you did want to have sex with Sukuna.

That was another item on your list, wasn't it? Losing your virginity before someone else locked you down for the rest of your life?

Why not him?

You opened your mouth to answer mid-nod, but your phone buzzed from inside your purse. You murmured an apology to her as you pulled it out.

There were four missed messages from Suguru. All a few minutes apart like he tried to put the phone down just to change his mind and send another.

I'm sorry for earlier. I didn't mean to upset you.

You really do look gorgeous tonight.

Have a good time. Text me if you need anything.

See you.

And then a payment. Sent to you. It was the same amount you'd given him last time. You frowned at it. Blinked like you might see something different the next time you opened your eyes.

But it was the same.

Was it just an accident?

You declined the payment.

Started to type a response just to delete it and restart right as Sukuna slid in the booth next to you. You quickly switched your phone off and dropped it back in your purse right as he pushed a pretty cocktail in front of you. He was just drinking water, even though Choso was also staying (mostly) sober so he'd be in good shape to drive him and Yuki home in a couple hours.

"Sure you don't wanna try a sip?" You offered, swirling the straw around even though you had a feeling he'd scoff.

"It's yours," He huffed, and you wrapped your lips around it. Whatever it was, you liked it. Sweet and fruity enough that you barely tasted the alcohol. The best thing you'd tasted tonight. Although, you hoped Sukuna would be the second. He scooted closer as subtly as he could, only stopping when his thigh was against yours as he threw his arm over your shoulder.

"We were talking about you," Yuki giggled, and when you glanced up, you saw she was already halfway through with the fresh drink Choso had brought her.

"Yu, baby," Choso murmured, like he had a sixth sense for when his girlfriend was about to stir the pot, but she was already giggling and continuing. Your face was flushing as she winked at you, a wingwoman you hadn't asked for and you might actually need to strange just to shut up.

You were sucking down your drink so you didn't have to look at her or him.

"When are you going to ask her to be your girlfriend?" Yuki piped up, and Sukuna made a condescending sort of grunt next to you.

"Why do you care?" Sukuna scoffed, and your stomach flipped. It wasn't an answer.

"Maybe I want to ask her to be our third," She teased him. Or you.

It took a second for the meaning to set in - to realize what she was implying. The heat that was already consuming you from your core to your chest all the way up to your cheeks only burned brighter at the thought of being there while they had sex. At the thought that they had even joked or talked about you during something so intimate.

"W-what?" You squeaked, and it only made the whole thing ten times more embarrassing.

She grinned, nudging Choso with her elbow.

"Isn't she cute, Cho?" Yuki goaded, and even Choso was blushing, his pale chinks pink as he exhaled hard and glanced between your face then back out to the crowd.

"Yeah," He shrugged. She just smiled, her cleavage showing when she leaned across the table like she was gonna grab your hand.

"If you ever wanna-"

"We're dancing," Sukuna cut her off while you were almost finished with your drink, dragging you out of the booth and away from them onto the dance floor.

"I'll watch your purse," Yuki called out, grabbing your purse from where you'd left it on the booth and sliding it up her shoulder like she was reliable.

"You dance?" You asked, your throat constricting as he held you tighter, finally finding a spot you could breathe in just for him to pull you back.

"No," He grunted.

But his hands were on your waist anyway, twisting you around so your ass was against him, guiding you in time with the music. The flashing lights were bright, casting wild shadows on everything in the dim club, the heat of the bodies around you and the scent of his cologne were dizzying, compounding on each other. You felt like you were floating, swept up in the bass and his touch, leaning back on his chest while his palm pressed down on your stomach to keep you close.

You'd never been very good at any kind of dancing, despite the many, many lessons your parents made you take growing up. You lacked some inner rhythm, but his was easy to follow.

He leaned down, his breath warm on the nape of your neck as his lips grazed over your skin.

"Having fun?" He taunted, his voice hoarse, thick with something you couldn't name.

And then you felt it. Him.

Hard against your spine, digging into you like he wanted you to know it was there.

"Mhm, yeah," You breathlessly managed, a lump lodging itself in your throat at the thought he was turned on because of you.

Your pulse was pounding, blood rushing south instead of to your brain, some invisible tension inside pulling tighter as his cock grinded against your ass.

"Don't let either of those morons try to talk you into anything," Sukuna brusquely muttered.

And you detected it then. The harsh gravel in his tone, the click of his tongue. He was, in fact, capable of jealousy. The pressure of his palms subtly increased, a quiet claim.

And you couldn't help but try to toy with him a little. Even if it didn't come naturally to you.

"What if I am interested?" You asked, glancing up over your shoulder at him.

He immediately glared, brows furrowed like he must have heard you wrong.

"Excuse me?" He pouted at you.

"I mean, I'm not your girlfriend," You reminded him. It came out too blunt, more mean than the playful mocking you intended.

"You wouldn't fuck them," Sukuna deadpanned.

Face frozen in an unreadable mask when he suddenly twisted you around to look at him. You couldn't tell how he'd taken it.

"You don't know that," You pouted this time, protesting for some pointless reason.

You wanted to seem cool. Carefree. To feel like one of them. Be the kind of girl who wouldn't blink at threesomes and didn't fail at something as simple as teasing. Where a party dress didn't feel like you were a kid in a costume and you made it through a conversation without coming off as a bitch.

"Uh-huh?" He didn't believe you.

And he was right not to.

You were just bluffing.

But you tried to stand up straighter, wobbling a little in your heels and nodding anyway.

"You probably couldn't even kiss Yuki," He chuckled, like the idea of it was funny now.

You didn't even think it was meant to be a challenge, but you were too stubborn to drop it. There were all these stupid things you cared too much about him thinking of you as, too scared to come across as a loser to him too.

The rest of the world could think that, but not him.

So you turned on your heels and started back towards the table. Sukuna was right behind you, but without holding you, it didn't take long to get separated between people.

Your real problem was Yuki and Choso weren't at the table anymore. You glanced around trying to spot either of them, only catching a faint flash of blonde in the crowd to chase.

They were moving fast, and you didn't realize where they were going until they reached it, an employee bathroom in the back, barely in view. Someone stepped back and on your foot, not budging and leaving you wincing as you tried to nudge them off.

The guy who'd done it didn't apologize, didn't even notice, only moving when a girl called him over and you were able to squeeze behind him. Your foot hurt, but you just kept your mouth shut, and silently wishing someone dropped a bowling ball on his in future before you glanced back to the bathroom.

You should've knocked.

But after the day you had and the night you were currently having, that was the last thing on your flustered mind when you started pushing the door open.

They were too busy making out to notice you.

Your purse was tossed on the bathroom counter behind them, Yuki perched beside it while Choso had her shirt half-off. His lips wrapped around one of her perky nipples and sucking hard while she tugged on his dark hair.

Yeah, Sukuna was right.

All the thoughts you'd been pushing down and praying away were right too.

They were all in a wildly different league than you.

Yuki got a glimpse of you in the corner of her vision, brown eyes glittering as she fully glanced over.

"There you are," She laughed. "Wanna join?"

"I, um, was just gonna grab my purse," You awkwardly smiled, feeling like the world's biggest idiot when you scampered over and nearly tripped trying to grab it.

"Well, you know where we are," She lightheartedly grinned, inhaling hard as you watched Choso's incisors sink into her breast, no bra in sight.

He pulled off with a pop, dark eyes slinking over to you.

"If you change your mind," He finished the sentence for her.

You practically ran out - or walked as fast as you could without being weird. Readjusting your purse and breathing hard the second you heard the thump of the door shutting.

Sukuna wasn't anywhere in sight, and suddenly, you were regretting ever walking away from him.

It took you a couple moments of scanning through the faces to spot him through the people passing by, standing close to the bar with his credit card out. Paying the tab, maybe.

It left a discomforting feeling in your stomach. Bad. Like you were wrong for letting him pay for you.

You tried to break through the crowd, only catching bits of him every few seconds. But you were close enough to hear him. Them. A pretty girl had stopped him, looking like she'd just stepped out of his shop actually, a few piercings decorating her face and intricate tattoo sleeve on her right arm. Her fingers grazed over his hand as she leaned in to ask if he was here with someone.

"Yeah," He bluntly said, pulling away before her touch could drift higher.

A small flicker of joy lit up. Pride at him shutting it down with someone who seemed like she'd be far more his type.

But she just laughed, unbothered and familiar, and you had the thought that she might actually know him judging by how close she was standing. A client you hadn't met yet?

"Are you guys exclusive?" She asked, tilting her head to the side like it didn't matter even if you were.

He rolled his eyes, huffing before he responded, "No, but I should find her."

He was right. You weren't exclusive.

So why did it hurt to hear?

He saw you then, preemptively sighing and pocketing the

"Where were you?" He half-growled, annoyed as he walked over. You shrunk back against the wall on instinct.

"I, um," You hesitated, glancing towards the bathroom door where you'd just caught Yuki and Choso.

"Are they in there?" He asked, reading all the jumbled emotions on your face.

You nodded, not even sure what to say or how to warn him before he was opening the door and scoffing at them for fucking in the filthy bathroom.

"We're leaving, idiots," He called out before slamming the door closed again and taking your free hand.

You couldn't think of anything to say while he lead you out through the exit. The night air was nice though, cool on your skin compared to the humid heat of the packed club. His car was parked in the corner of the lot, out of the way from where most of the people were walking. Your heels had started to hurt your feet, but you tried to hide it and keep up with him anyway.

Sukuna held the door open for you, and you just murmured a thanks before he shut the door behind you. You buckled up, almost taking off your shoes before thinking that'd probably be impolite. Your phone was vibrating again in your bag, but you couldn't bring yourself to check it.

You looked out the window instead when he started the car. He'd insisted on you dropping your own car back off at your apartment after he closed up earlier and driving to the club from there. You didn't miss the way he stared up at the building in the parking lot then, studying the fancy exterior of the luxury apartments.

But he hadn't said anything then.

And even when he pulled back in front of it for the second time, he still just put the car in park and looked at you instead.

"Um, do you wanna come up?" You offered, grabbing your keys from your purse.

"Yeah," He answered fast, like he'd been planning on suggesting it if you hadn't asked.

"My parents pay for this place," You murmured as you hurried through the lobby over to the stairs in the back. It had an elevator - but there were cameras over there. And you were a little paranoid that your parents would somehow get access to it and see you coming home with a man they certainly would not approve of.

"Figured," He shrugged.

His nonchalance made you feel a little better. He didn't judge you for it. Didn't hold it against you.

And by the time you actually unlocked your door with trembling fingers and nervously let him in, you had almost convinced yourself that you were being silly for having so much anxiety around him.

Especially when his hand easily slipped into yours, sturdy fingers biting into the back of your hand while you gave him a tour of your place. You'd spent half your day cleaning up just in case he'd ended up back here after all.

He leaned against the door frame of your bedroom, eyeing the frilly sheets before his eyes slowly settled on you.

Sukuna's lips parted, but a flash of panic shot through you at the sudden realization you were alone. In your room. With a hot guy.

"Are you hungry?" You interrupted him, swallowing hard.

He looked at you like he was, but maybe not for food.

"Have something in mind?" He murmured, stepping closer, ready to pull you against him.

"I could bake a cake," You suggested with a shy smile, thinking of the one you'd made for him a few weeks ago. Your palms were sweating, your skin itching at just how close he was.

But excitement had started override your nerves.

"Seriously?"

He wasn't complaining when he was tasting the batter twenty minutes later, leaning against your counter, his phone connected to the speakers and playing music a little too loudly while the oven finished preheating. He was still wearing his shoes, his black t-shirt straining against his chest, sticking to his biceps while he watched every swivel of your hips while you hurried from one corner of your kitchen to the other.

"I can bring the leftovers into work tomorrow," You hummed to yourself. Maybe you'd still save a slice for Suguru.

Even if he had something terrible to tell you.

"Sure," Sukuna nodded, but he wasn't really listening. And when you glanced over your shoulder, you caught him staring at your ass when you bent over to stick the cake pan in the oven.

Your dress had started riding up your thighs, dangerously close to showing the lacy panties hidden underneath. The back of your ankles were probably bleeding from the heels you left by the door, but he hadn't noticed.

You got up on the tip of your toes to set the timer on your microwave before turning back to him. Maybe it was the baking, or being back in a safe space, but you relaxed.

The cake wouldn't be done for at least half an hour.

"You wanna see my kitty?" You grinned at him.

He paused, blinked hard, before raising a thick brow while you grabbed a bag of cat treats out from your cabinet and gestured back through the kitchen towards the front door. You snagged a shitty pair of dollar store flip flops from the tiny closet by it, ones you purchased last summer when you tried to convince you could go to the beach by yourself just to chicken out the day you were supposed to make the trip.

"What?"

Sukuna still had the same stunned look on his face when you dragged him all the way down to the bottom floor and through the back door, grumbling about branches smacking him in the face when you guided him through the thin patch of woods behind the building.

"You're going to trip," He grumbled before abruptly picking you up just enough so you wouldn't fall on anything littering the dirt and leaves. "Do I just keep going straight?"

"Mhm," You muttered.

There was something even more intoxicating about him entertaining your stupid idea than all the drinks still fuzzy in your system. He didn't insist on going back, didn't dismiss it, just let you show him whatever it is you wanted him to see.

"Put me down," You giggled when you realized you were getting close to the little clearing you'd set up a few cat houses you'd done your best to build and food bowls you ordered online. It was technically still on the property of the apartment building, but no one else ever came to this part of the woods, never noticed the cats or the small safe haven you created for them. He begrudgingly listened, a hand still on your waist like he was ready to grab you again if he needed to.

You shook the bag of treats, making small clicking sounds with your tongue until you heard the quiet scamper of paws. The moon was bright enough tonight you could make her out through the trees before she approached you, stopping just shy of where you were standing. You guessed she was being cautious at the new human you brought. You'd always come alone before.

"Hi, cutie," You greeted, and big eyes peered up at you, her head tilting up as you squatted down to get on her level. Her tabby coat was dirty, probably from rolling around or playing. "Where's your babies?"

She made a soft, high-pitched meow, and you heard the leaves crunch before two more sets of eyes popped up.

You opened the bag of treats and glanced up at Sukuna.

"Come here," You smiled, shaking the treats again. He moved slow, reserved and reluctant. But he squatted down next to you anyway. "Hold your hand out."

He did, and you poured a few out in his hand. You did the same to your own, holding it out and waiting patiently for her to approach first. She sniffed your hand, more suspicious than she usually was, and then quickly ate the small kibbles.

Her kittens?

They'd already discovered Sukuna's treats, both of them swatting at each other trying to eat them off his palm at the same time before the other could. The kittens were almost identical - both tiny tuxedo things, the white fur standing out against the black.

Sukuna's face was funny, blanching at the ridiculously small animals fighting for food, one of their claws sinking into his wrist and jumping half on his arm in their attempt to knock their sibling off.

"Are these things clean?" He huffed, brow twitching, but he didn't move. Didn't pull his hand back in disgust.

"I got them checked out at the vet after she had them," You murmured, petting her fur and picking the pieces of dirt out of it. "They're still too small to get spayed or neutered, but I did get them treated for fleas and stuff."

He nodded, and you thought you detected the slightest hint of a tremble in his other hand when he reached out to pet one. It smacked his hand on first, but on his second try, it actually jumped up to force him to pet it.

You didn't say much. He didn't either.

But it was nice not to. Nice to just sit there and play with the closest thing you ever had to real pets with the closest person you had to a partner.

"You know, a few months ago, these guys were basically my only friends," You sighed, not sure why you were even really saying it. Why you would even embarrass yourself more by revealing something like that.

"That's ridiculous," Sukuna scoffed. One of the kittens had settled in his lap while he teased the other by holding a treat over its head just out of its reach.

"Yeah," You agreed.

You shouldn't still care. But you did.

"I guess I'm just trying to say thanks," You shrugged, blushing at your own admission. "For giving me a chance, you know."

He scoffed.

"Yeah, yeah," He dismissively waved.

You stared at him. Studied the way his shoulders tensed, the shape of him under the light of the moon. You liked his intensity. His focus. The look on his face when he was thinking about something he'd never say.

It could've been three minutes or thirty. The time melting and morphing seconds and stretching them out. You'd almost forgotten about the-

"Shit, the cake," You squeaked, abruptly standing and glancing behind you in a panic.

He chuckled at you - although it stopped when he had to half chase you back inside, twigs probably getting caught in your hair and actually snapping the strap of the flip flops on the concrete sidewalk outside the door. He grabbed your arm before you could skin your knees, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder before grabbing your now-broken flip flop from the floor.

You both were probably a wreck by the time you made up to your apartment, stumbling through the door as you squirmed out of his hold.

"Fuck," You groaned, the word slipping out as you rushed to turn off the oven and yank the handles. Sukuna stopped you before you could burn yourself, pulling you out of the way putting the oven mitts on to get the now-burnt cake out. Just shy of charred as he set it down on the stove, and you were too upset to even giggle about how silly he looked with the pink mitts on.

"It's fine," He grunted, a brow still raised like he thought your frustration was funny or entertaining. "That's not what I'm hungry for anyway."

You were probably pouting, leaning back against your kitchen counter and glancing towards your fridge. You'd forgotten to go grocery shopping yesterday - and you were already low on ingredients.

"I don't really have anything else," You frowned, nose scrunched up while you tried to think about what else was open right now.

"Seriously?" He huffed at you, and you wanted to cry. Staring down at your feet, the alcohol only making you feel more sensitive, more fragile.

"I'm sorry-"

His lips were on yours, shutting you up before you could even finish your apology. He didn't kiss you like Suguru did. There was nothing soft about it.

It was all teeth and tongue. Sucking on your bottom lip like there wasn't anything that tasted better. His hands had been greedy all night long, always touching and lingering but now? He was grabbing you like you were all his.

Gripping your ass and holding the back of your neck, sandwiched between the hard edge of the counter and his chest. You didn't know what to do. You kissed him back, tentatively threading your fingers through his hair, a small mmph escaping when you started running out of air.

"You know you don't have to do any of this shit for me, right?" He grunted when he finally broke away, and even though you knew he was just trying to make you feel better about the burnt cake and your attempts at playing everything cool tonight, it still stung.

Because it meant that as hard as you tried, it was still obvious to everyone else you were trying.

You didn't say anything, just let him kiss you again.

Why not?

He carried you to the bedroom. Hands on your ass under your dress while you wrapped your wrists around his neck. You didn't know if you were doing any of it right. If you were good or bad at this, if he'd been with better girls before, just trying to follow his lead until he half-tossed you on your mattress. Kicking his shoes off at the base of the bed, unbuckling his belt and tossing it on the floor.

Sukuna paused just long enough to glance around the soft shades and expensive furniture closer this time, clicking his tongue like he found it all a little ridiculous before he was flipping you into your stomach so he could unzip your dress.

It was happening remarkably fast.

Experiencing something new almost every second, the breeze from the air conditioning cold on your bare skin. You wished you'd worn a bra underneath it. But your dress had been tight, revealing, and none of the bras you had fit right.

His rough palm was already running down your spine, pulling your panties down your thighs next and discarding them on the floor.

You'd never been naked in front of a guy before. Except for Gojo.

But that had been different - and he hadn't even looked.

Sukuna was taking in everything, tracing your outline like he was committing it to memory. You felt a little ill. Painfully self-conscious. Terrified to think about what he thought. You wanted to cover up, to pull the blankets over you and hide your face. The closest you could do was bury your face in the pillow, face flushing as his hand paused on the curve of your ass.

"Do you want me to keep going?" He asked, his voice low and gravelly.

You could tell him to stop. Ask him to take it slow. But you weren't sure if he'd still be interested if you told him no now. And you wanted him to keep going, despite all the fears you wore on your sleeve.

"Please," You spoke softly, a shy whisper spoken into the pillow.

Sukuna flipped you over, studied your face like he had to make sure you were sure.

You tried to look firm in your decision, summoned all the confidence you had to sit up and start pulling his shirt off. He helped, making quick work of tossing it on the floor. But he didn't go to take off his jeans yet.

Was that normal?

Were you already doing something wrong?

Before you could convince yourself you fucked up, his mouth was back on yours. He still tasted like cake batter, sweetness that didn't quite suit him on his tongue when he slipped in your mouth.

His body felt even broader when it was on top of yours, heavy as his fingers groped your chest, squeezing hard then soft, like he was trying to see what you liked. You didn't really know how to react when everything felt good, when it was all so new you were just as clueless to what you wanted from him as he was. He rolled your nipple between two of his fingers, and you gasped mid-kiss.

Sukuna chuckled, clearly pleased with that. Continuing to toy with you, his lips trailing down your throat down to your chest next.

You wondered if he'd try to suck on your nipple like Choso had done with Yuki, but he paused by your collarbone.

"Kuna," You breathed, biting your lip, watching him intently to see what he'd do next.

You weren't ready for it.

He pressed your thighs all the way up to your chest. Fingers dimpling the pliant muscle, pinning them there and holding it in place so he could get a proper look at you.

You wanted to curl up in a ball, face burning hotter the longer he looked. But before you could work up the confidence to say anything, he was pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your cunt.

His tongue tracing over your entrance first, running over your clit then back down. Spreading you open and pushing his tongue inside to taste you there too.

He ate you out like he was starving.

You'd touched yourself before, but the feeling of his tongue, warm and messy and unrelenting, was wildly foreign. Nothing could come close.

He found his rhythm fast, pumping in-and-out, chuckling into you at the way you writhed, squirming against his grip and whining freely for him.

"You're fucking tight," He grunted, and you had no idea if that was supposed to be a good thing.

A little voice in the back of your brain reminded you that this would probably be a good opportunity to tell him the truth and admit you were a virgin, but all that left your lips was another desperate moan of his name.

It might ruin the moment.

Might fuck up the first time you felt wanted.

His grip shifted, one hand pinning you even more to the bed while the other let go to drift down in time with his mouth moving to wrap around your clit.

Two fingers pushing past the first ring of resistance to feel your cunt clenching and squeezing, his teeth skimming over your sensitive bud just to send a rough shudder through you.

"Fuck," You whimpered, and he groaned.

He was half-humping the bed, rutting against it while his tongue traced messy circles back over your clit.

"Sound so fuckin' sexy like that, baby," He grunted, his breath warm against your skin. You didn't really feel sexy, you felt kinda embarrassed. Hyper-aware of every little movement you made, where your hands were placed and everywhere your body connected with his. But then he was back to painting patterns on you, and you couldn't feel anything other than warm pleasure.

Bright and burning, pressure building and coiling in your core while you squirmed underneath him. Chasing your climax while he basically made out with your sore and swollen bud, fingers still thrusting hard and fast in you.

"K-Kuna," You gasped again, fingers roughly tugging at his roots while you tried to warn him. "Think I'm close."

Your thighs were tense, the last thread holding you together ready to snap.

"You wanna cum for me?" He pulled away just for a second to tease, and you did.

Unravelling fast, crying his name and trying to turn to hide your face while he laughed. It was unfairly hot. Should've been illegal for him to sound so unbothered when you came undone, vulnerable and raw while he still had his jeans on.

He even licked you clean, until all the slick on your thighs had been transferred to his tongue. Let his teeth sink into one, leaving a love bite you'd probably have for days.

"My good girl."

You weren't sure if he was mocking you when he ruffled your hair afterwards.

Watching in a haze when he stood up and unzipped his jeans and boxers, tossing them in a heap on the floor just to get back in bed next to you.

You didn't even get a chance to properly look at his cock before he was pulling you against his chest, your cheek pressed against it as he exhaled and brushed your hair from your face.

Counting to ten in your head, waiting for him to guide your hand down to his cock. Waiting for him to do anything.

Did he not want to have sex with you? Was he waiting for you to return the favor?

"I could-"

You didn't even know what you could do.

Something, surely.

Whatever he wanted.

"Nah," He shrugged, closing his eyes like he was ready to go to sleep. "Come closer."

"Did I do something wrong?" You hesitantly asked, voice raspy from all the sounds he ripped from you earlier.

"No," He huffed, scowling at you like you offended him by just suggesting it.

"Why don't you want to have sex with me then?" You bluntly asked, propping yourself up to frown at him.

He sat up enough to hold you better, sighing before he leaned down and left a kiss on the corner of your mouth.

"We don't have to rush into anything," He explained, a little irritated.

And you remembered what you'd told him earlier.

You weren't his girlfriend.

"Okay," You mumbled, letting yourself rest back on his chest.

You didn't know when you fell asleep. Waking up a few times startled by the presence of someone else, letting his tight hold on you pull you back into your dreams until the sun streaming through your window finally startled you awake.

Except, that wasn't it.

Still groggy, you tried to rub your eyes, sitting up and rubbing your eyes while you processed your surroundings.

Then you heard it.

Keys jangling.

Shit.

You turned back to where Sukuna was still sleeping, adrenaline racing through you while your eyes swept over all of last night's clothes still scattered around the room.

"Sukuna."

He didn't budge.

"Get under the bed," You whisper-shouted, pulling uselessly at his arm while he sluggishly started to get up. Brows furrowed and frowning at you while he slowly pieced together your panic.

"What?" He whispered without even realizing why you were in the first place.

You glanced down, mentally doing the math and realizing he wouldn't fit underneath your bed before dragging him to his feet over to your closet.

"I really need you to hide," You were basically begging, wide eyed and constantly throwing worried glances over your shoulder to listen for the click of heels coming any second.

"Why?" He grumbled, obviously unhappy but nowhere near as close as you were.

"My mom is here."

patreon is here with additional original content for anyone who feels like supporting me a little extra :3

reblogs n comments are super appreciated <3 love hearing your thoughts as always !!

[hellowoolf]

brat | track four

sympathy is a knife

producer!suguru x popstar!reader

prev / next series masterlist / full masterlist

wc: 3.2k

content: angst <3

taglist is closed!

18+ please <3

Complex — SUGURU GETO’S NEXT MOVE: IS THIS THE END OF HIS BRAT ERA?

Fader — IS SUGURU GETO MOVING ON?

TMZ — SUGURU’S SURPRISING NEW COLLAB — WHERE’S YN?

you don’t realize how much you missed your apartment until the door shuts behind you.

the air is stale from being sealed in for days, but it’s cleaner than anything you’ve breathed in the last forty-eight hours. your bags hit the floor with your shoes and jacket, then you just stand there, listening.

the silence doesn’t feel like a win.

you don’t bother with the lights as you move to the couch. friday night’s stream is already waiting at the top of your screen when you unlock it—some algorithmic kindness, or maybe a punishment.

your own voice fills the tiny speakers when you hit play. flashes burst too bright. you’re grinning on stage—cheeks flushed, lip gloss catching the light, glowing with excitement. suguru’s in the shot, throwing that lazy half-salute he always gives when the crowd gets too excited.

you rewind thirty seconds. watch it again. try to catch what you missed.

the way he looks at you is the kind of thing people write songs about. you’ve always thought that. soft, steady, a little smug. he looks like he’s sure of you.

and from this angle, you almost believe it—that the moment was real. that the glint in his eye was for you, not the camera. that you didn’t make it up.

but you’ve always known better.

he’s not your boyfriend. it doesn’t matter how he touches you, and it doesn’t matter how he watches you when he thinks you’re not paying attention. there are no rules, no promises, nothing either of you could break. you helped make it this way.

so this can’t be betrayal.

not really.

but you sit there anyway, in the dark, watching yourself look happy. trying to figure out why it makes your skin crawl.

[ monday ]

you wake up late, unsure what time zone your body thinks it belongs to.

it’s the first monday in weeks that doesn’t start with an itinerary, a call time, or a meeting. no one needs anything from you.

you unpack one item at a time. clothes folded, toiletries lined up, wristbands and lanyards tossed in a pile you won’t look at again.

then the mail. packages and PR boxes, a handwritten note from a designer you meant to text back. you stack it all neatly, toss the envelopes.

it’s mid-afternoon before you remember you haven’t eaten. the app asks if you want the usual. you say yes.

while you wait, you sprawl out on the living room rug with your phone. the stillness feels good, like a reset. there’s comfort in settling back into your own home, knowing where everything is and not having to be on for anyone.

you start to scroll. new tour dates. clips from your set and others. a few photos you hadn’t seen before: your face caught mid-laugh, suguru’s hand at your waist.

then his name.

your thumb freezes on the screen.

suguru geto and mila hart. working together. speculation rolling in—whether it’s a collab or something else. whether you know. whether you care.

you swipe past it fast enough that the words blur. then you scroll back, just to be sure it says what you thought it did.

you lock the phone. set it face down.

a minute later, you pick it back up and it’s still there, waiting for you.

you don’t feel jealous, exactly. you wish you did. it might be easier.

this feeling is lower. harder to describe.

it’s stupid. you both work with other people all the time—other artists, producers, names you haven’t bothered to keep track of. it’s never mattered before.

but this—her—feels different.

maybe it’s because of the party. the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered. the way he said i should take you home like he didn’t already have company on the way.

you read the posts again. the speculation. the casual certainty that someone like mila could walk into your story and take whatever she wanted.

you get it.

you almost believe it too.

your phone buzzes.

suguru: ignore the headlines. they don’t know shit.

you read it twice.

it’s not an explanation. not a denial. just something vague enough to pass for reassurance if you don’t look too closely.

you wonder how hard he thought about it before he sent it. he’s never been one to spell things out. never asked you to spell anything out, either.

you almost ask him.

almost say i don’t know why this feels worse than it should. i don’t wanna be dramatic but this is fucking with my head. am i overreacting? is this anything to you?

instead, you send: all good.

[ tuesday ]

on tuesday, you’re supposed to be reviewing edits for new merch—something you’ve done a hundred times without thinking, and certainly in worse moods than this.

you open the email and read the same line four times before you realize you haven’t absorbed a single word. you close the tab and open it again, like that might make it easier to care.

by afternoon, you give up. you grab your bag, pull on a pair of sunglasses you don’t need, and walk three blocks to a café you’ve been to a hundred times.

the overhead speakers are playing something soft when you step inside. familiar in the way everything feels familiar lately. it takes you a second to place it but when you do, you almost laugh.

mila.

her voice is exactly what you’d expect—smooth, pleasant, a little forgettable. you hate how easy it is to imagine suguru sitting in a studio somewhere, listening to this same song and deciding he likes it enough to work with her.

you don’t buy anything before walking out.

the rest of the afternoon moves quickly. you get it together just long enough to send the merch edits and cross a few other things off your list. by evening, you’ve convinced yourself you’re feeling better. tired, maybe. but better. you shower, brush your teeth. crawl into bed wearing the same hoodie you’ve slept in a hundred times without thinking twice.

it smells like him.

you try to ignore it. turn the TV on, scroll for something mindless, leave it playing with the volume too low to hear.

for a while, you think it’s working.

but when you finally lie down to sleep, the cotton at your collar grabs your focus. you think about his voice. he told you once, a long time ago, that you make things harder than they need to be. he smiled when he said it, like it was an indulgence he could afford.

you think about mila. how easy she sounds, how easy she looks. if he was ever going to pick someone, it was always going to be her. the kind of person who doesn’t mind playing nice. good at interviews and talking about her feelings.

maybe he likes things that way. and in all the years you’ve known him, you just didn’t realize that.

the thought makes your stomach hurt.

you shove the blankets down and pull the hoodie over your head in one motion. toss it on the floor like it burned you.

[ wednesday ]

wednesday starts the way a lot of your good days do.

an early fitting for fashion week. racks of clothes curated just for you, accessories no one has touched, hair and makeup sketches that feel like tiny reinventions.

today, it just feels like a chore.

you smile at the assistants, compliment the tailoring, agree when they tell you they’re obsessed with certain pieces. a stylist unzips a garment bag with practiced enthusiasm. “a few of these are meant to be coordinated.”

you don’t ask who they’re meant to be coordinated with.

you let them pin fabric along your shoulders and drape jewelry over your collarbones. the necklaces feel too heavy, the bangles too noisy.

someone mentions suguru in passing—what he’s wearing, how they’ll build his look around yours so everything feels cohesive. you’re a package deal, after all.

you reach for a pair of earrings absently. silver, heavy, a little loud. the kind of thing suguru would put you in.

you make it through the rest of the fitting without saying much. when the last pins are pulled and the notes are made, you thank everyone for their time and promise to confirm final selects by the end of the week.

the car is waiting outside when you leave. tinted windows, cold leather seats. the driver asks if you need the air adjusted. you tell him it’s fine.

you open your phone to new paparazzi photos.

suguru and mila leaving the studio. her sunglasses pushed up into her hair. him with a hand braced against the door like he’s holding it open for her.

they’re probably not laughing at anything important. maybe a dumb joke. maybe nothing at all.

it doesn’t matter. it’s fine.

you’re fine until later that afternoon.

mila’s post shows up in your feed before you can brace for it.

she and suguru.

she’s leaning over him in a studio, one hand braced on his shoulder, the other pointing at something out of frame. she’s laughing at whatever it is. he’s looking up at her, mid-smile, relaxed in a way you recognize.

you almost lock your phone and move on with your day.

almost.

but your eyes catch on the shirt he’s wearing.

it’s yours.

fading grey, oversized on you but perfect on him. the one you gave him because he never remembers to bring anything to sleep in. yours. on him. under her hands.

he’s not even tagged. you wonder if he knew the picture was being taken. if he wanted it to be. if he’d care either way.

it doesn’t matter.

the image exists now. intimacy that wasn’t earned. proof of a line you can’t point to but know he crossed. he looks so unbothered. like none of this costs him anything.

and you finally have a better word for the feeling that’s been sitting in your gut.

displacement.

you don’t realize you’ve thrown your phone until it slams into the wall hard enough to bounce. it ricochets into a water glass, which tips and spills across the floor, into your open bag, over a stack of books.

it doesn’t make you feel any better.

you stare at the mess, breathing hard. it makes everything worse. or maybe it’s funny—you can’t tell. your hands are shaking too hard to clean anything.

you cross the room and pick the phone up.

the screen is a hazard, cracked in every direction. you unlock it anyway. the screen catches your thumb.

because even now—even after all of it—you want to know if he might say something that makes any of this feel bearable.

you open your messages with him, your stomach flipping when you find him already typing.

you watch the bubble appear and disappear, again and again, like he can’t figure out what to say.

he probably never thought you’d feel disposable. probably never imagined any of this would land so hard on you because nothing ever really has.

and mila’s not significant to him. probably. you know that. but knowing doesn’t help.

you wait. for a minute, maybe longer.

you wonder if he’d ever spell it out for you—you know you’re the only one who matters.

you wonder if he’d mean it.

you wonder if it would be enough.

the typing stops.

@/milahearts 📸 : her leaning over suguru in studio, one hand braced on his shoulder 💬 : creative crush 🩵💫🎀 #bts #angelpop

@/babygirlyn: no bc if i said i wanna dance to SG and five days later he’s giggling with an industry plant in my shirt i would start a fucking fire

@/poptimist: maybe he’s just tired of fighting for his life every time yn opens her mouth LOL

@/bratchive: sooo we’re just pretending suguru and yn weren’t all over each other a few days ago? okkkkk

[ thursday ]

thursday doesn’t feel like a day at all.

you spend the day doing nothing worth remembering—ignoring emails, letting the news cycle run without you, pretending not to notice your name trending alongside suguru’s and mila’s.

the TV’s been on for hours, humming through reruns just loud enough to keep the silence out.

by sundown, you’ve had two drinks. maybe three. maybe maybe more.

you settle on the fluffy rug, a bit wobbly, and decide you’re gonna write something fun. something glossy and clean. light enough to float.

you even have pieces of a beat in your head—bright synths, stupid little sparkle sounds, the kind of thing mila could sell in her sleep.

you write a line, then another. but it turns mean by the third bar.

you scratch it out. start over.

it happens again.

on the fourth restart, you stop pretending. you pour another shot with dramatic flair, drag the notebook into your lap, and let it sour on purpose.

the words come fast once you stop trying to make them nice.

you don’t bother with verses or a chorus at first. you write what you mean and choose to worry about it later.

i couldn’t even be her if i tried i’m opposite, i’m on the other side

you stare at that for a long time.

it feels like a confession.

somewhere around three, you hit record on your cracked phone screen.

your voice is hoarse. the words slur at the edges. the TV still hums behind you.

you don’t listen back before saving it.

notabigdeal.wav

you lie back on the rug and close your eyes.

if he wanted uncomplicated, he should’ve just said so. if he wanted simple, he could’ve fucking picked her a long time ago.

maybe he did. you don’t actually know.

maybe you’d feel better if he would just call you difficult to your face.

[ friday ]

friday only exists because no one canceled.

the session was already on the calendar, and neither of you had the nerve—or the pettiness—to take it off.

so now you’re here. late.

you swipe into the building, step into the elevator. you don’t bother fixing your face before walking in.

suguru’s already there, lights low, chair spinning in lazy half-circles like time doesn’t matter. he looks exhausted. soft around the edges like he let himself be tired today on purpose. maybe for your benefit, maybe not.

you step inside without announcing yourself. he slows his spin.

“hey,” he says.

“hi.”

he doesn’t look away as you get comfortable on the couch. when you look up, there’s only softness in his eyes.

“…how are you?”

you hate that it makes your throat tighten. hate that he means it.

“fine,” you say. which is technically true, if you mean still breathing. your voice isn’t convincing. he doesn’t pretend it is.

his eyes move over your face like he’s trying to read what kind of week it’s been. you keep your expression neutral. give him nothing.

but your hair’s still damp. your voice is raspy. the hoodie you’re in swallows you whole, and you won’t look at him for more than one second. he notices, of course. he’s not stupid.

but he doesn’t call you on it. he doesn’t say you look like shit or you didn’t sleep, even though both are true. that fact makes it worse, somehow.

technically, you’re here to finish a feature for someone else—something loud, bright, almost due. you could just sing it. you could get it done in fifteen minutes.

you’re not sure how long has passed when you say, “can we record something else today?”

his fingers pause over the faders.

then he shrugs. “sure.”

you reach for your phone. your fingers shake a little when you scroll.

“i’ll hum you the melody.”

he listens without interrupting. nods again.

when he opens a new project, you pull your knees to your chest on the couch to watch him lay the beat. the way he works is familiar. you’ve always thought it’s like breathing to him, just like everything else.

you don’t say anything when he places a loop that could pass for cheerful. he’ll have to remove it once the vocals are down, but you just nod when it sounds close enough.

he glances over his shoulder. “you wanna go in?”

you nod, then stand and cross the room. adjust the mic. put the headphones on.

don’t look at him.

you’re nervous all of a sudden, in a way you haven’t been around suguru since the very beginning of your career. you exhale once, then again. run a hand over your face.

his voice crackles through the headphones: “you okay?”

you nod before he can finish the question.

then the track starts.

you wait one bar. when you start to sing, your voice is flat at first—steady, not cold. the tone you use when you’re trying not to cry.

i don’t wanna share this space i don’t wanna force a smile

you think you hear something shift through the headphones. he probably forgot to turn his own intercom off.

don’t look at him.

this one girl taps my insecurities don’t know if it’s real or if i’m spiraling

your voice tears open after the second chorus. you start pushing volume without meaning to. you don’t correct it.

why is all this sympathy a fucking knife? i couldn’t even be her if i tried

there’s a moment—just one—where you think you might lose it. you tighten your grip on the headphones and finish the take without stopping. without breathing, it feels like.

you take the headphones off with shaking hands. hang them on the hook like it matters. like there’s still structure to any of this.

when you step out, the air feels heavier.

suguru is watching you like he just heard something he wasn’t supposed to.

you wipe your cheeks with the sleeve of your hoodie.

he starts to stand. “wait—”

“send it back when you’re done,” you say, grabbing your stuff.

and then you leave.

you don’t feel better. you just feel bare.

like you handed him your stomach on a plate and asked him to make something out of it.

[hellowoolf]

BREAKING NEWS!

six | cryptid columns

NOW REPORTING...LOCAL GIRL FUCKED MOTHMAN?

synopsis: sent to get the scoop on a strange cult popping up in a small city near you, you're surprised to discover the (moth)man behind it has more than just charm hiding behind his sly smile. but debunking the local cryptid sightings will be harder than you thought when you're sharing a bed with him!

pairing: mothman!Geto x journalist!Reader

content: mdni, smut and angst, reader is an investigative journalist, cult leader!geto in a different font lol, cryptid!Geto (he has wings), fingering, piv sex, condom, cowgirl, missionary, sex tape, consensual recording, comfort

art by @grartsss + divider by @/v6que

Who were you kidding?

You couldn't even kid yourself.

Standing there and still shivering, unable to keep yourself from trembling as you worked up the courage to ask another thing of him.

"Don't tell me to wear the blindfold," You mumbled, breath hitching in your throat. "Not tonight."

There was a thick pause, all that simmering tension finally hitting the boiling point, nowhere for it to go except over the pot. Spilling out over both of you, unable to turn down the heat or soak it back in.

"Okay," He murmured, grabbing your arm fully now, like he was accepting responsibility for you. For this. "No blindfold."

"I want to see you," You added, waiting for him to take it back. To turn you away.

"You're scared," Suguru commented, his own breathing unsteady for once. Not shaky like yours, but rough, uneven.

"Not of you."

You weren't used to fear. It wasn't in your nature. Okay, it's not like anyone actually liked being scared, but you'd been thrown into terrifying situations before, fuck, even happily walked into them smiling. But your usual confidence had cracked.

How were you supposed to stay focused when you didn't know how to feel safe again?

You'd thrown a man with a million criminal connections in jail, dragged down most of his accomplices and sent the rest into hiding. Written an expose where you exposed everything from murder and coverups and littering. If Sukuna was out, it wouldn't be long before he regrouped. And how long after that would he go after you?

"Turn around," He quietly requested. It wasn't a demand this time. Not a blunt command he wanted you to blindly obey.

And yet you did anyway.

He took your breath away even more the second time you saw him. Sucked it straight from your lungs when those deep purple eyes settled on yours, sealed your fate and stamped it as his when they slowly drifted down to your lips.

His wings were down, dark and translucent in places, and they really did resemble a moth's. Just, uh, a lot bigger.

"Like them?" He teased, and it hit you that your mouth was still hanging open.

"Can I, um, touch?" You hesitated to ask it, but he was already stepping closer, his chest almost against yours.

"Anywhere you want."

A dangerous offer. But one you'd shown up hoping for, hadn't you?

Your hand was trembling when you reached out, swallowing the lump in your throat when the tip of your index finger grazed against the edge of his left wing.

It felt delicate. A little powdery. It was strange to touch something so soft and fragile on someone who seemed so strong and sturdy.

You wondered what it felt like for him. If this was another privilege he was reserving solely for you.

"Feeling shy now?" He hummed, and you flushed.

"No," You lied.

You did. Another emotion you were unfortunately unfamiliar with. You didn't do vulnerable. Not with a man. Which, he definitely still was, judging by the bulge growing in his pajamas pants while you traced the veins or nerves that ran down the middle. You couldn't tell what exactly it was - probably needed him to give you a first-hand refresher on moth anatomy to know.

"Come here," He spoke firmly, but it still wasn't the same as how he addressed his congregation. It was softer. Not so blunt. A low hum from the back of his throat like he was trying to soothe you or something.

And then you noticed something you missed the first time around. Two thin antennas half-covered by his hair.

You giggled.

Grinned at how absurd and cute it was, how bizarre the whole situation you'd gotten yourself stuck in was. Could you write your way out of this one?

You still didn't know. But it did feel a little less scary when he was this close.

"Can I touch those too?" You asked, stifling another small laugh.

He frowned for a second, one antenna twitching at the realization of what you were looking at, but then he was pulling you inside by your wrist with a sharp exhale.

"I think you should sleep," He sighed, holding in however he felt about you giggling at him.

His room was messier than the last time you saw it. Books scattered around most of the surfaces, some of his robes thrown across armchairs or hanging up. Rather than a real nightstand, he had an armchair and a coffee table nestled between one side of his bed and the wall that had a laptop and what looked like audio equipment next to an empty coffee cup and sunglasses.

You let him guide you back to the bed again.

But this time, he really did just pull back the blankets for you to get in.

Adrenaline was still thrumming through your veins when you did, leg anxiously shaking while he laid down next to you, pulling your body back into his like you were spooning. A lamp was still on, bathing everything in soft shades of warm yellow.

His body was warm. His chest to your back, muscles pressed into your spine, hard and firm, one wing hanging just slightly over your arm. You felt the bulge against your ass, on purpose probably, judging by the deliberate way his lips ghosted over your ear.

"Good night," He purred.

"Night," You echoed, like you'd ever actually fall asleep in his arms when all you were thinking about was what was in his pajama pants.

You made it five minutes before you wiggled back against him, softly yawning as you readjusted. He was already throbbing, and you could picture his tip probably leaking with pre-cum, all pretty and pink an waiting for you.

He went stiff.

Teasing him felt like slipping back into your own skin, a comfort you were desperately seeking. Control you needed.

"Sweetheart," He murmured, and your heart skipped a beat.

"Mhm?" You tried to sound sleepier than you actually were, and his arm wrapped around you tighter.

"Careful what you're starting," Suguru warned, dark and low and dangerous enough that you couldn't help but keep going.

"Can't handle it?" You yawned and it didn't even take him a full ten seconds to grab you by the waist and drag you over. It was too fast, movements that were hard to track when it was you being moved, a little dizzy when you found yourself straddling his thighs, his back flat on the mattress and head propped up with pillows.

"Can you?" He retorted.

Suguru was the one guy who might have you outmatched.

"Of course," You bluffed.

But he just chuckled, smirking at you with one hand hanging onto your hip before he leaned over to open his laptop. You watched wordlessly while he typed in the password, a string of digits you committed to memory before he pulled open the camera on it.

He waited a second, maybe expecting you to tell him to stop, but you let him click.

"You want this on the record?" You laughed, more airy than you meant.

"Thought reporters usually preferred proof," He shrugged. You'd made a few sextapes, but none of them had ever been like this. Spur of the moment, maybe, but you were usually the one recording, or set up the camera yourself.

If this saw the light of day, people would still probably think it was a good hoax. Some elaborate costume.

"Is that so?" You hummed, thinking it over as you looked between him and the computer. His other hand slipped down instead of up, and it didn't take him long to disappear under your nightdress, toying with the band of your panties.

"Aren't you the journalist?" He wryly mocked, waiting for an answer.

You squirmed as he pushed your underwear aside to slot two thick fingers inside, glancing back towards the open laptop, the little red recording light capturing the filthy sound of him stretching you open.

"Proof, huh?" You breathlessly echoed, more turned on by the idea than you probably should be.

"That's not a yes," He hummed, his hand slipping out from between your thighs to reach for the trackpad, like he was going to turn it off.

"Fine, fuck, yes," You stopped him, grabbing his wrist before he could.

You'd never been good at being obedient, had never been able to act pliable for very long, but he was easy to follow. Took the leash like it'd always belonged in his hand, and for once in your life, you wanted someone to have it.

Wanted someone who could protect you when you weren't sure if you'd be able to save yourself. And if he couldn't, well, maybe he'd still fuck you hard enough to forget about Sukuna for a while.

"Think you'll air this one?" Suguru teased, his hand returning to skim over your side, fingers grazing over your skin to crest over your breasts.

"No," You muttered, craning your neck up to kiss him. His lips were soft, already parting to let you in. He tasted like toothpaste and mint tea. And even when he was tender, there was that ever present current that seemed to race underneath it, hot and hungry and greedy for more. You pulled away just barely, nose brushing against his. "This is confidential."

Or as close to confidential as you could be when he was making you moan minutes later.

What was left of your clothes was scattered across the room. His robe was the only thing that had stayed on, but his chest was bare, warm. His fingers were coated in you while yours were tangled in his hair. Bite marks littering your neck while your mouth returned the favor, teeth sinking into his collarbone when he pumped his fingers back in.

"That's it," He hummed, and it was like someone had taken a taser to your heart. Some hundred volt current searing through your nerves when those thick digits of his prepped you to take him.

"N-need you," You heard yourself whine, burning to fill the empty hole in your chest - and for him to fill your cunt a different way.

He laughed again, and it felt good.

"Yeah?" Suguru cocked his head to the side, and you nodded, chewing the inside of your cheek before he pulled his fingers out and pushed them into your mouth instead. Making you clean them off for him, wrap your lips around them and suck.

It was enough of a distraction that you didn't notice him readjusting the rest of you until his fingers slipped back out and you realized you were hovering over his cock. It was even prettier than you pictured. Slightly curved, a long vein running along the side and throbbing, pre-cum covering the tip.

It was uh, bigger than you anticipated. Had a few more ridges. "Um, do you have condoms?"

He raised an eyebrow like you said something ridiculous.

"I don't know who else you've slept with here," You defensively added.

"I told you before, you're the first," He insisted, but he did grab a wallet you hadn't noticed before on the table and tugging a condom out.

It barely fit, stretched thin around his cock.

You didn't think you'd ever been so nervous to have sex with anyone.

You couldn't even remember the last time you'd been on top.

Most guys preferred to be the one over you, pinning your hands down or digging their fingers into your throat while they thrusted into you - or well, most of the guys you'd been with at least.

It was harder to adjust to with him - his thighs were thicker, your own stretched just to accommodate him while you straddled him.

Swallowing hard as you hovered over the tip, eyes flicking from where he was still throbbing before his hands settled on your hips and he dragged you down.

Suguru didn't have to be on top to be in charge.

It was effortless for him. Easy to hold you and hoist you how he wanted, guiding your hips to bounce you up-and-down, his cock splitting you open in one mean thrust.

"Look at you, gorgeous," He murmured, letting go of one hip to reach up for your face. Tilting your chin to the side so you could see yourself on the computer, shaking and sweaty, a wild sort of desperation in your eyes.

You wondered what he saw.

His own hips bucked up, cock throbbing as his tip pushed up against your cervix. The extra ridges running along his dick were driving you insane, lust that had been lingering around the corners of your brain now overriding every little bit of rationality you had left.

Why did you need sense when Suguru was fucking you stupid?

Letting him bounce you how he liked, your palms pressed flat on his muscled chest and your body automatically falling forward with each rough thrust just for him to pull you back into the position he liked. Where he could fit as much of him as possible in you.

A soft squeaking sound surprised you when you realized it came from him. His face flushed a little, brows still furrowed in concentration as he kept rutting up faster, harder. But then he made it again and you opened your mouth to tease him for it.

"Don't," He warned, and you only giggled.

He flipped you over in one fell swoop, your back hitting the mattress and his wings fluttering out when his body was on top of yours.

It knocked the breath out of you. Or maybe he'd just stolen it.

Your bodies were still connected, his cock still throbbing, a dull pulse deep in your core that ached for him to fuck you full.

Suguru leaned down to kiss you again, and his cologne enveloped you - warm and intoxicating. But there was something else, maybe soap or shampoo or even fucking pheromones that were fucking with your already frazzled brain.

Flooding it with more need, more hunger. Your mouth was returning his kiss with more heat, teeth and tongue like you wanted him to tear into you, thighs tensing as your back arched off the bed so he'd drive his cock deeper.

"Fuck," He hissed, and honestly? You could've cum just from that.

Your fingers reached up, and if he was a normal guy, you would've raked your fingers down his back and shoulder blades until you drew blood. But instead, you delicately ran your hands over his wings, and those pretty purple eyes practically rolled into the back of his head.

Self-control snapping when his hips abruptly slammed down into you, cock stretching you to your limits while he groaned your name. He shuddered, but one of his hands still slipped between your bodies to massage rushed circles against your clit.

You were still sensitive, each touch almost making you jump when the pressure in your stomach built too high too fast.

"Suguru, I'm-" Your warning turned into a strangled gasp right as the pleasure suddenly crested, a hot white wall of it hitting you all at once.

"I know," He breathlessly grunted, still buried in all the way while you clenched around him, squeezing him like you were actually trying to suck every last drop out of you.

He didn't pull out immediately, still reeling from his own high you hadn't noticed he reached, his body weighing yours down until he slowly untangled himself from you. Even then, he only separated long enough to take off the condom and toss it before laying back down next to you.

Brushing your hair away from your face and asking if you needed anything, only getting comfortable after you shook your head no. Which was mostly because you sort of thought he'd call Satoru in to get what you wanted, and you didn't need to drag whatever sort of weird feelings he seemed to stir in you into this.

You'd actually forgotten Suguru had been recording until he reached over to turn the camera off and close the screen. He laid down on his back, pulling you on top of his chest by your waist. His wings were still partially out, enough that you could study and stare at them up close.

"I've still got a lot of questions," You sighed, letting him caress your side, trace your edges as your breathing settled. Where'd he come from? Were the wings some anomaly of nature or a secret science project? Who was he?

"Ask me in the morning," He stifled a yawn, preoccupied by simply staring at you like you were the one who defied modern understanding of human anatomy. "I've got a few for you."

The idea of that was a little silly.

You were used to being the faceless reporter. Some background player.

Your subject was always the star of the show.

There was a long pause, but it wasn't awkward. It was just existing. Listening to the air conditioning in the background and the soft chirps of insects outside the window. Letting his scent settle and stain your skin. Soaking up what it felt like to be wanted in the moment.

You liked his wings. They felt strange to touch. Still foreign against your palm, and they were clearly sensitive judging by his stiff shoulders and clenched jaw, but he let you feel them. You edged over the end of one, and his cock throbbed against your body.

"So," He hummed, one of his hands glided over to your cheek, dragging his thumb across your face while you tried to relax into him. "A nightmare, huh?"

You blinked, forcing a smile you'd been practicing more in the mirror lately.

"Yeah, a nightmare," You nodded.

Eventually, you'd tell him the bad news. Break the fact you might have to extend your stay a little longer before your former lover-turned-convict got free and tracked you down.

But right now?

You'd prefer to pretend you were just a girl and he was just a guy. Just for tonight.

patreon is here with additional exclusive original content for those of you who are interested <3

[hellowoolf]

abt to go stalk ur whole masterlist. everything you write is so yummy. you are infinitely talented. dont stop writing or the earth will catch on fire <33

i would be absolutely honored to be stalked by you. thank you so much it is my great privilege to write!!! <3333 hehe

[hellowoolf]

*Presents to you my cheek*

MWWWAAAAHHHH

[hellowoolf]

✦ dvd menu ft. gojo ﾉ angst, hurt no comfort, eighteen plus

you’re not quite sure how you ended up here. in a pocket between today and tomorrow. now and then. night and day. 

love and loss.

it’s blue, and infinitely so. your eyes squint against the harsh sapphire rays surrounding you, reflecting and bending off the curve of the endlessly stretching walls. they’re malleable to the touch as you press against it, wondering and wide eyed, curious as a child. a little hopeful that there could be more outside this cobalt cavity.

like clockwork, he arrives. the sudden patter of feet against the hard ground, like rain pelting concrete and bleeding into it. and what blinds you is the winking gleam of his piercing cerulean orbs, somehow astonished each time that you were still here. that you weren’t a figment of his imagination he’d conjured up.

he’d rest on the ground beside you, a plastic baggie encasing a meal in hand—as if you’ve ever actually felt unsatiated. you weren’t even sure what that would feel like.

you still take it graciously, as you do anything he hands you.

and just like routine, his fingers would brush the icy top of yours, an electric shock jolting through your nerves and making your brain short circuit.

you’re pretty sure this is the only sense of warmth you’ve ever felt.

his lips would find your neck as he pushes you against the stiff ground, caging you beneath his form. his milky tresses tickle your complexion, a feather light touch that makes you shudder.

he’d caress your waist and whisper your name like a plea, and you’re not quite sure why it sounds so unfamiliar trickling from his tongue.

he’d press your wrists into the ground above your head, tethering you in place, dragging his damp lashes against your jugular as if trying to commit the feeling to memory.

you don’t say anything, just soft gasps and breaths escaping your parted lips, tipping your head back as he gets to work.

it’s a routine you find yourselves in, and you never have quite enough time to wrack your brain for many answers before the screen goes black.

you’re so far severed from any humanity or reality, you’re not even quite sure what you are.

he’d strip you with a slow and careful tempo, meticulous with responding to each mannerism—six eyes analyzing each twitch of your lip, the curve of your spine, the flicker of uncanny hunger in your eyes.

he never removes his shirt, and you think that you’ve caught onto why.

a jagged scar tearing through his midsection. you’d traced it with your finger pad before in the throes of passion.

and there was a pause, a vacant and dull look, before he’d continued.

you didn’t have it in you to ask how he’d gotten it, what it meant.

if it still hurt.

he pushes into you, swollen cockhead spearing you with no remorse. budging into you like you were promised to him, like you were supposed to stay like this for him.

and you’d mold yourself around him carefully, because you were made for him. maybe not you, but this you.

your deft fingers fist his shirt as you tie your trembling legs around his slim and absurdly toned waist, allowing him to rock into you.

there’s a frustration in his eyes you can’t unravel, eyes dialed in on where the two of you are conjoined, before he falls over you.

lips crash onto yours, teeth bumping, desperately swapping saliva. you almost miss what he headily whispers, but fate is cruel.

“i couldn’t…” he’d trail off, and then he'd return to grunting into your eardrum, husky and low, vibrations melting your muddled brain.

he’d spill into you, a shudder racking his body as you flutter and gush around him.

and this time, he stays. instead of dragging himself out of you and disappearing with teary eyes, he stays.

cleans you down, caresses your head with a touch so unfamiliar you’re not sure what to make of it.

then he holds you to his form.

you don’t know how long you hear the steady patter of his consciousness battering against his ribcage beneath your cheek before you break the silence.

“how did i die?”

your voice is warbled, not all there.

“you were collateral damage,” he responds flatly, as if it were something he’d needed to repeat hundreds of times over already. a pitiable eulogy, a weak epitaph. sacrilege of something sweet to him in another time. desecration long after your death.

you’re quiet for a moment, before allowing yourself another question. “will i see you again?”

and now it’s his turn to be tight lipped. you can’t see his face, his thumb drawing imaginary circles against your bare shoulder.

he apologizes beneath his breath, like he was making up with himself rather than you.

“i’ll be leaving now.”

his words crack at the end as he sits up, casting a cheek towards you.

you pretend not to see the tear defiling his pale cheek.

you nod, because you understand what he means.

because none of this was real, neither were you. you were just a character resting between loading screens. corners slowly curtailing on you until gojo was fulfilled. until he realized that he needed to move on. you aren’t quite sure how he’d created you, or if any of this was real. but you didn’t get to ask such questions.

the blinding blue around you dulled, the infinite void filling with grey as he got to his feet.

you laid on the ground, still coming down from the high of his warm touch, not sure if your feet ever really touched the ground. you succumb to the dark as it washes over you, the last image gracing your watery orbs being his retreating form.

a/n: was feeling angsty sorry. art found here

[hellowoolf]

[teaser] all the way

summary: you have always believed you are uniquely suited for your line of work. you have lived as a keen observer, have served and protected myriad public figures with an insistence upon your utmost professionalism. when glimmering star satoru gojo needs a second live-in security detail, you're happy to take the job—so what if his primary fucking hates you? or worse, if he wants to ruin you?

pairing: bodyguard!geto x bodyguard!reader x movie star!gojo

tags: enemies/coworkers to lovers i guess?? and satoru is also there?? it's complicated you'll see, mentions of guns (but nobody uses them), gojo is touchy and sort of pathetic sometimes lol, SMUT!!, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, praise, degradation sorta, unprotected piv, creampie (yay!), rough sex, fingering, oral (m!receiving), voyeurism/exhibitionism, um....watching....? cucking…? idk don’t shackle me with labels

this is a TEASER for my upcoming one shot!! so please let me know if you'd like to be tagged, probably planning to post sometime this weekend/early next week :3 <3

masterlist

18+ mdni please! <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it becomes increasingly clear how little you know about suguru geto.

he’s not quite as demandingly touchy as satoru is, doesn’t collect you from behind when you walk past or kiss your temple in greeting—satoru does these things, and you choose to believe that these are void of meaning, though really you’re not so sure anymore—but nonetheless geto seems to find some quiet joy in using his hands.

you can remember padding into the kitchen late one night, far past when you usually go to bed, to find suguru twisting his fingers in satoru’s hair. it was a mindless sort of thing, an occupation with his hands while they spoke in hushed voices as to not disturb you, but it struck you as…soft, sweet. when he caught you looking he didn’t stop, either, only rested his head along the back of the couch and grinned like he didn’t mind that you saw. something hot and terrible licked up your legs then, and you turned on your heel to hide again in your room.

he touches you, too. small things, all of them, inconsequential if they weren’t so monumentally divergent from what your relationship had once been. a hand placed gingerly around the back of your neck to show you something, the push of his thigh against yours as the three of you watch a movie on satoru’s couch, the invading of your space to hear your voice over a crowd. 

and you don’t mean to find feeling in any of them. you care so deeply about your professionalism and you’re horrified by the thought of jeopardizing it, but god, it’s difficult when the low rasp of his voice comes wafting over the shell of your ear every time he has something to say. you watch the cords of his arms when he moves, the bump of his heartbeat in his neck, the pink of his tongue when he wets his bottom lip. it all makes you sticky and ashamed, though not quite enough to keep you from rubbing tight circles on your clit to the thought of him at night.

you tell yourself that it’s harmless, that it’s your secret to keep—in truth, you really have no alternative given your living situation, but it’s been months now since you’ve been fucked. you swallow your whines and your pride, and when you wash your hands of your own arousal you have no choice but to believe it will be okay. 

still, sometimes, in the orange glow of the evening light, you catch them both staring at you, at the dip of your collarbone as it slopes under your shirt, at your bare legs before you retire to your room. and the voracious part of you—the part with needs—wonders whether geto wants you in the same quiet way you want him, whether gojo has heard your soft mewling in the small hours of the morning.

in the end they always turn away, and your suspicion fades. but it’s those brief moments in the spotlight of their gazes that you fear it might not be okay at all.

the thrum of sunday traffic taps softly at the windows of the apartment, a reminder that the world continues turning even while the three of you sequester yourselves indoors. satoru has been slowly growing more exhausted the past week, the barely blue veining of bags under his eyes, his expression weary and limbs even looser than normal. 

he stretches his body across his sofa, an arm hanging down and grazing the floor, a leg across the back. you lean over the armrest to look at his face from upside down. he still smiles in that boyish sort of way he always does, despite how clearly worn he is.

“do you have anything tonight? or can i take a shower?”

he yawns into his words. “i’m not going anywhere. i might never go anywhere again. the night is yours.”

you can’t help but grin at how feline he is, a sleepy cat stretched too thin. you push off the armrest to make for the bathroom but his lithe arm shoots out to grasp your wrist. his eyes are almost closed, half asleep you suspect, but he catches you on instinct anyway.

“stay with me,” he pleads.

“i thought you just told me the night is mine,” you chuckle.

“yeah, yours to choose to hang out with me,” he says through a soft smile.

you’ve never been as close with a client as you are with satoru, but it comes with the territory, you suppose; you’ve never lived with a client quite so long, either. with anyone else you think it might bother you, but satoru is the sort of man who trusts out loud: the fact of his friendship doesn’t make you wonder whether he respects you any less. you think he takes suguru to be something like a god, an invisible worship, and they’re as close friends as anyone.

you sit yourself on the plush carpet with your back against the couch so satoru can card his fingers through your hair, the crown of your head pressing into his leg as you lean into his touch.

“is suguru still holed up in his room?”

gojo groans exasperatedly. “i get two seconds with you and you’re already asking for him?”

“don’t be greedy, satoru,” a low admonishment rumbles from the hallway as suguru pads in. you squeeze your thighs slightly and hope satoru can’t see it. you are so fucked.

satoru’s fingers curl more intently into your hair and tug, whining something like well i am greedy, and you know he means to be playful but your body—a traitorous, needful thing—defies you, one tiny, pathetic moan choked in the back of your throat at the feeling. you hear geto’s footfalls pause, hear gojo’s sharp intake of breath.

you exhale slowly, as though you’re afraid some other terrible noise will leave your mouth next. you can’t look at either of them but nonetheless you feel them both surveying you.

and you make a living off of quick reflexes and intuition, but god help you even though you feel the soft twitch of satoru’s fingers again you don’t have the faculties to stop him; he tugs one more time, softer, but pregnant with meaning now. you manage to stay quiet save for the squeeze of your eyes shut. 

suguru murmurs your name, watching from behind the couch, quiet like he’s trying not to startle something skittish and small. it jolts you to sobriety and you all but smack satoru’s hand away with the back of yours, standing quickly and face flushed with humiliation. you can’t make eye contact with either of them as you rush out towards your room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hehe i hope you liked it :D like i said above, if you want to be tagged in the full one shot, please let me know :)

taglist: open!

[hellowoolf]

lonely hearts diner

one | chapter index

sleeping around with the staff at your shitty waitressing job can't go that wrong...right?

synopsis: feelings and fucking should be kept separate. especially in the work place. so how come it hurts so bad to watch the hot bartender who brought you home last weekend flirt with pretty customers? and how far will you go to get over him - or under someone else?

pairings: Gojo x Reader, Geto x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Nanami x Reader

content: mdni, smut and angst and fluff, restaurant AU, waitress!reader, bartender!Geto, waiter!Gojo, chef!Sukuna, manager!Nanami, also includes food runner!Choso, casual sex, friends-with-benefits, flirting, teasing, tension, emotional hurt, reader does not have great self esteem

divider by @saradika-graphics !!

Getting fucked in the backseat of the bartender's car before your shift was stupid. Even dumber when it was in the back of the parking lot, out there where anyone taking a smoke break could see if they happened to walk out.

But when it was Suguru's hands on your body? His soft murmur in your ear?

You melted. Took whatever affection he gave you and treasured it, tucked his kisses away into some secret part of your heart and tried to savor whatever moments like this you stole.

"You're so pretty," He hummed, purring softly and nipping at your ear, cock buried to the hilt while you clenched and cried his name. Nodding along like an idiot while you bit back moans.

"You're prettier," You breathlessly whispered back, barely able to get any air in your lungs. Your wrists were wrapped around his neck, fingers tangled in his dark hair while your soft thighs straddled his sturdier ones.

He smirked, and it still made your heart flutter. Face heat up and all the words inside you jumble together into something incoherent.

There were a few moments in life you wanted to bottle. To shove in an airtight jar so you could relive it - make the seconds stretch and never end. Capture the way the sun hit his face, how even the light loved him, highlighted the slope of his nose and the curve of his lips.

But you only got so many seconds.

"I like you," You half-squeaked, just to get cut off with a kiss that left you crumbling. Putty in his palms and soaked in his lap, squirming as his tongue pushed past your teeth.

You'd been sleeping together for half a year - always in these rushed meetings or after closing, just wherever he could pull your panties down or bend you over. Finishing in condoms or leaving you with cum leaking down your thighs, pressing a kiss to your forehead and fixing your hair before hurrying off to whatever he had to do next. And still, you never quite got used to what it felt like when he was inside you, how warm he was, how tender he could be when he felt like it.

It wasn't like you were popular at school. Or life.

Most of your friendships fizzled out. It wasn't that you were bullied - not really. Just, forgotten, you guessed. Always more attached to other people than they were to you. Guys usually lost interest after a date or two. Swept away by someone more talkative or charming, who'd smile at them and say the right things at the right moments.

You didn't blame them.

Who'd choose you?

You wouldn't say you were that bad in the personality department - just that there were so many people who were better.

Honestly, you'd barely even worked up the courage to apply here in the first place when you pushed through the door and saw the other waitresses in their uniforms. The building was from the sixties, remodeled to put in a bar and replace the booths with new leather, but all the girls still wore the vintage little dresses with the aprons tied tight around their waist. For the atmosphere, the owner explained. Same reason they didn't have any POS systems installed - just tickets and an old cash register that creaked every time it popped open. Definitely not because they were cheap.

You would've walked out if you hadn't heard how much they brought home in tips every night. And you desperately needed the money.

Suguru had been there that first shift, offering a smooth smile and winking at you while you shadowed one of the other girls. Gave you his number four days later after you tipped him out on your own. Fucked you in the bathroom stall two weeks after that, dress bunched around your hips the way it was now, telling you how cute you were.

It was a little embarrassing to realize you'd do anything he wanted whenever he wanted. You just wanted his eyes on you.

"Angel," He murmured into your skin, low and seductive, enough to make the heat in your stomach soar higher. You liked his pet names. Liked feeling special. Could convince yourself that you meant more than a casual fuck when he spoke to you with so much adoration.

"Y-yeah?" You stammered, glossy-eyed and blinking too fast when you met his eyes. He was looking past you though, towards the dash.

You glanced over your shoulder to follow his stare.

Three minutes until you had to clock in.

"Oh," You exhaled, shaky and more than a little disappointed.

He smiled at you again though, soft and charming and so intensely intimate that you forgot about the sadness that was still simmering under your skin.

"I'll make it quick," He promised, and he delivered.

A thumb working over your clit, crammed in the tight space between your bodies in the close quarters, practiced circles searing into you with the sort of pressure that left you whining and scrunching your eyes shut, focused too much on clawing for that high that you missed the knock on the window until you were halfway unraveled. Panting and grinding your hips down on Suguru's cock, his own breath stalling when he finished in the condom.

No, you didn't notice until you were coming back down, only glancing out the slightly-tinted windows to make sure no one was watching just to realize someone was.

Gojo was grinning.

One corner of his lips curled higher than the other, entertained by the free porn, apparently.

You gasped, hurrying to stuff your tits back inside your dress and button it up again.

"It's just Satoru," Suguru shrugged when he noticed, unbothered.

He might not care - but you sure fucking did. They were the kind of best friends that loved to bicker, sometimes just over stupid stuff, small arguments that would end in them laughing. But there were blow-out fights you only heard about afterwards, both of them ignoring each other for days or dragging the rest of the restaurant into it.

Gojo was smiling now - but the last thing you needed was your sex life used as ammunition in their next fight.

You struggled to climb off of him, cheeks burning with the embarrassment as you fumbled to reach over and grab your stuff from the front seat so you could get out through the other side. You nearly fell face-first on the pavement, scraping your knees on the gravel before you stood and dusted yourself off, smoothing down your skirt and praying you didn't look like you'd been being fucked stupid less than sixty seconds ago.

"Sorry," Gojo called out, equal parts awkward and amused. "Didn't mean to, uh, interrupt."

Keeping your head forward was hard. Struggling not to look behind you and see whatever was written on his face when you knew it'd just hurt your feelings more.

Suguru laughed, a low chuckle that usually created butterflies only stomping on them now when you suspected he was just laughing at you.

"I didn't know you were sleeping with her," Gojo commented, probably thinking you were out-of-earshot already.

"Is it important?" Suguru retorted.

You weren't an idiot.

He didn't have to say it any other way.

You weren't important.

The sad thing was, you knew you'd still come the next time he called. Would still be a willing participant if he pulled you into the supply closest and pulled your panties down.

Although they were awkwardly sticking to your thighs now, damp from being shoved aside to make room for his cock earlier. You tried to ignore it, tried to pretend you didn't feel half as humiliated as you were when you pushed open the back door to clock in.

"You're two minutes late," Nanami brusquely greeted you right as you signed your initials by the timesheet. He was looking down at his watch, something expensive-looking, not that you knew any brands.

"Sorry," You mumbled, chewing the inside of your cheek when you glanced up at him. He still wasn't looking at you, a thin pair of glasses pushed up his nose as he exhaled hard.

He walked away before you could make up an excuse.

You pushed your bag underneath the counter, pulling out your apron and server book, pretty pink pens already tucked in the pocket while you tied the thin strings around your waist.

One of the waitresses passed you by, her shoulder knocking into yours and nearly spilling a drink on you in the process. Probably would've if Choso hadn't been there to tug you away by your wrist.

You hadn't even noticed him standing behind you with a tray of food in his hand - about to deliver it to a table. You blanked on who to apologize to first for being in their way, but it was a little too late.

"Watch where you're standing," Yorozu grimaced, nose crinkling as she glanced at you with nothing short of disgust. "You really showed up to work like that?"

Automatically, you looked down at yourself, panicking at the thought of cum or some other stain somehow ending up on your dress before she snickered at you. Choso had walked off - and you were starting to wish you had too.

"Don't be a bitch," Gojo groaned as he squeezed past you to pencil in his initial on the timesheet. Suguru wasn't anywhere in sight. Would Nanami get onto him for being late?

His blue-eyed best friend was currently throwing a nasty look back at Yorozu while he fixed his own apron. She huffed at him, obviously irritated before she walked back out to take care of tables - or pretend to be doing busy work. Slowly, his attention shifted to you, offering a charming smile like he was on your side.

"You always look pretty," He winked. Winked. Something in your brain short-circuited.

Gojo was a flirt. A playboy who would bat his lashes and laugh at the worst jokes just to get good tips. Lean across the table and eyefuck whichever pretty girl came in just to sit in his section so they'd come back again and again. But even when his eyes would linger on you a little longer than they should, or when he'd stand too close when you were pouring sodas, he'd never suggested anything more than hanging out sometime or asking how your day was. Maybe throw in a sweetheart or princess if he was in a good mood.

"You don't have to defend me," You awkwardly added, feeling weird at the even slightest possibility he was genuinely hitting on you. Especially after he just caught you fucking his best friend.

He liked stupid pranks, playing dumb jokes, pulling whatever string he had to for the sake of his own amusement. You didn't want to be one of them.

"Don't want me to be your knight in shining armor?" He teased, gesturing down to his collared shirt and laughing again. "Or y'know, uniform?"

You didn't know what to say.

Like, literally.

Just staring at him, lips slightly parted as you tried to find something that didn't sound utterly stupid to someone who'd be ready to respond to anything in .02 seconds.

But then Yuki popped out, waving you over.

"Hey, you just got sat at table eight, alright?"

Two hours into your shift, you were stressed and sweating, hustling from table to table and being bombarded with questions and requests when you weren't being harassed about your tickets by the kitchen staff every time you tried to explain the food wasn't right or when the customers sent something back.

"There's nothing fucking wrong with this," Sukuna grumbled at you, pushing the plate back across the pass-through while you frowned and tried to nudge it back. Sweat was already pricking above his brows, a tight scowl already formed there, knitting them together tightly. You kind of expected him to like, bite your hand off when you pushed it back onto his side again.

"She didn't want salt on it," You cleared your throat, genuinely about to gag on your own anxiety, physically sick at sticking up for yourself.

"Is she stupid?"

Arguing with customers was one thing - they were usually wrong. Or wouldn't come back. And if you really pissed them off, then the worst that would happen was a complaint lodged to the manager, who was always too preoccupied with more serious stuff to actually reprimand you. Arguing with the back of house staff?

Yeah, you'd rather crawl into a hole and die.

Because tomorrow, when you clocked back in, Sukuna would still be back there, glaring at you and possibly spitting into your food on the rare occasion you ordered yourself something.

"Probably," You threw your hands up, exasperated and exhausted, but it wasn't like Sukuna would have any empathy. You weren't even sure he had emotions.

"I swear, if I have to remake this shit again-"

"I'll fix it," Choso muttered, grabbing the plate and walking back around the counter while Sukuna scoffed at him.

"Thanks," You exhaled, your foot still tapping the ground impatiently while you glanced back right as the door swung open, Gojo carrying an empty tray. He smiled at you, all cute and crooked, and your stomach did another flip.

You'd kill to get cut first and go home.

But realistically? You knew you'd give in if someone else asked first and end up staying until after closing because it was easier to fold than stand up for yourself.

You kept looking anxiously back towards the swinging door, trying to peek at your tables every time someone passed through it, making mental notes of who needed refills and what you had to do next.

"Is it for table ten?" Choso called out behind you, and you absentmindedly nodded before remembering you actually had to speak while he was distracted in the kitchen.

"Oh, um, yeah," You awkwardly replied, rubbing underneath your eyes like you'd be to wipe away your discomfort with it. Someone was staring. The hair on the back of your neck literally raising while two eyes basically burned holes in your back.

"I'll take it out if you want to check on your other customers," He offered, and you just nodded again despite the fact you were sorta hiding back here.

Still, you forced your feet to move, squeezing past the bustling servers and busboys and customers trying to find the bathroom or order drinks at the bar.

Stopping by your tables with a practiced smile and pushing the nerves down your throat as you recited your rehearsed spiel on if the food was good and if they needed anything and pretending to laugh when they said something stupid like a million bucks.

You didn't even let it show when someone ordered a whiskey sour and you realized you'd have to go ask Suguru to make it since the other bartender was on her break.

He was already in the middle of mixing another drink, chuckling at something a cute blonde in a short dress was saying. Her elbows were on the counter, leaning over and excitedly chattering, and when he sat a pretty cocktail in front of her, you watched his fingers skim over her wrist.

Suguru didn't even notice you. Or maybe he did - and it just didn't matter.

Because as she scribbled her number down on a napkin, he took it. Pocketed it. Promised he'd call her this weekend.

You felt like a fucking moron.

Standing there and just watching them flirt, how her fingers reached over to brush against his, listening to her giggle and offer to give him a sip of her drink, right where the glossy lipstick stain was on the rim.

"Hey," Gojo greeted you, his hip bumping into yours as he took the spot next to you. "Busy night, huh?"

You weren't good at small talk. Any talk. Glancing around at the still mostly-full restaurant, on the tail-end of the dinner rush as some of the tables started to leave.

"Yeah," You mumbled.

"What are you doing after work?" He eagerly grinned, looking down at you with expectation in his eyes. What for, you weren't sure.

"Studying?" You shrugged, glancing back to where Suguru was still too distracted to realize either of you were there.

"Come over." Like you were friends instead of just coworkers. "We can watch a movie or order pizza-"

"You're asking me?"

He laughed. You still felt like the punchline.

"Yeah, you," Gojo insisted, his body pressing more into yours, leaning down, although you still had to look up to meet his eyes.

"Need something?" Suguru interrupted, and you nearly jumped out of your skin, startled.

"Um, a whiskey sour for table seven," You muttered, refusing to look at him when you were already on the verge of an anxiety attack.

You broke away from both of them, mumbling some other excuse under your breath as you went to take more food to your tables, only stopping back by the bar to grab the finished drink without sparing Suguru a glance.

But Gojo wasn't done.

And when you got the first real gap in service you had all night, you walked back to the small supply room in the back to try to catch your breath under the guise of grabbing a new notepad just for him to follow on your heels.

"Gojo-"

"Suguru told me you had a boyfriend," He drawled, slow, not quite sure. Tentatively prodding at the subject to see if you'd flinch.

You didn't know if you should believe him - you never had a boyfriend. Ever. And what was the point in lying about something so dumb when Suguru didn't see you as more than just a convenient way to get laid?

"I don't," You mumbled, struggling to read the extra notepads off the top shelf before he easily snagged the box for you and brought it down.

"You want one?" He offered, and it clicked when you couldn't decide if he was talking about the notepads or being your boyfriend. He was trying to make you laugh. Doing a bad job at it, sure, but still trying.

Probably pitied the poor girl that fell for his friend.

How many times had he seen it happen? What number in line were you?

"Come on," He grinned. You were cornered. Glancing between all the shelves of straws and napkins, then down to his feet. "Why not?"

"Why?" You asked, your voice small.

"I like you," He shrugged. "Duh."

"I don't like you." You blinked when you paused, realizing how it came out then cringing. "Not like that."

"You never tried."

Why would you?

He could have any girl he wanted. Why would he settle?

"I don't know-"

"Want me to beg?" Did he want to beg? Gojo pretended to pout, pushing out his bottom lip and clasping his hands together like he was ready to drop to his knees.

As much as you shouldn't, it was sorta nice to feel like someone liked you enough to try.

"Just a movie tonight?" You hesitated, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

And when the corner of his lips twitched back up, you felt more like a small mouse caught between his paws.

"Yeah," Gojo confirmed, bright blue eyes twinkling even under the flickering yellow light. "A movie."

He finally handed over the notepad, his fingers lingering over yours, and you couldn't breathe. Couldn't force yourself to inhale no matter how hard you tried.

"O-okay," You finally managed to stammer.

"Suguru drove you today, didn't he?" He asked, and you awkwardly nodded again. "We can just ride together and I'll take you home after."

Plans made that probably shouldn't be.

But you just tried to smile back at him.

"Um, sure."

"I'll break the news to him," He happily hummed, clearly pleased with himself. You doubted he'd wipe the smug smirk off his face by the time he talked to Suguru.

And whatever he said to Suguru apparently pissed the latter off considering by the time closing hit, he was already gone. Had left the other bartender to finish up cleaning glasses and checking out tabs before you could even tip him out.

Was this how it ended?

No fight? No argument? Just one last fuck and you'd be forgotten?

Was it his apartment he'd return to? Or would he call that girl on the car ride back and end up in her bed?

Your brain couldn't shut off the valve leaking all the nasty thoughts out while you wiped down tables and set up for opening tomorrow. Silverware was already rolled, menus wiped down, dressings stocked. A checklist you'd completed enough times to be robotic at it now, hurrying from one item to the next.

You had just finished mopping, a wet floor sign out and the floor still slick while Gojo penciled in his time out on the sheet.

"Hey, I'll wait for you in the car, okay?" He paused, his voice low in your ear, a hand pressing against your spine.

"Sure, um, see you," You swallowed hard, nerves returning in full force at the realization you'd be alone in a car with him in just a few minutes. He walked away with a wave and what felt like the hundredth wink of the night.

This was a mistake. He was a mistake. But then Suguru's face flashed across your mind - his voice purring pretty things in your ear he might be telling another girl now.

And you wondered if it'd be so bad to make a mistake. To stop thinking so hard and see where it leads. So what if Gojo just wanted to have sex with you?

It was your fault for thinking anyone ever actually wanted more.

He might be trying to fuck over Suguru by sleeping with you. But you were using him too - whether you were under or on top of him.

You walked around to the kitchen area, pushing around the mop bucket and trying not to grimace when you had to slip past where Sukuna was cleaning the grill, his previously clean white shirt now splattered with stains and grease.

"You done with dumb and dumber?" Sukuna scoffed, fixing you in a scrutinizing stare, mouth twitching in annoyance.

"What?" You glanced back at him, a small frown already forming on your face.

He didn't look towards the door. Didn't look away at all.

Just stared at you like you were stupid for not seeing what he did.

"Forget about it."

[hellowoolf]

— TAG NINE PEOPLE YOU WANT TO GET TO KNOW MORE !

thank you @lily-bisque and @nanamisbbygirl for the tag !!!! i’m actually flapping my wings and flying to you both as we speak so unlock your doors

currently reading: currently doing the lit review for my thesis so it is in fact: Singularities and Groups in Bifurcation Theory by Golubitsky and Schaeffer last song: david - lorde last film: megan 2 (so bad) last series: saiki k :3 sweet/savory/salty: i tend to need every meal to be all three tea or coffee: coffee, always, but i end every night with chamomile tea hehe working on: my thesis and a one shot with geto smut and gojo in the cuck chair

some no pressure tags <3: @junos-chronicles @rawjutsu @kunareads

[hellowoolf]

roommate!suguru x fem!reader

part 2<< | part 3

nsfw, mdni please!

masterlist

roommate!suguru who, despite his near constant griping in the approaching weeks, finds himself hosting his whole friend group the night of his birthday. satoru gets high and extends himself fully on the couch, eyes red and watery and purring; sukuna seems at all moments engaged in an unyielding search for something to eat in suguru’s pantry; choso, for no discernible reason, brings his bass, strumming low to harmonize with whatever song crackles from suguru’s speaker.

roommate!suguru who smells it before he sees it, the cloying puff of tobacco wafting in from the balcony, and then his whole body locks into place: it’s you, leaned against the railing with fucking toji while he takes long pulls from his cig.

you’re dwarfed next to him, soft and warm in a cardigan you wrap tight around your middle in the midnight chill, but the real betrayal is the way toji’s scar twitches with a smirk behind the screen of the smoke, the way you laugh in turn.

roommate!suguru who knocks lightly on the sliding door, relishing only a moment in the way your cheeks warm further when you see him. you furrow your brows in question: what’s wrong? he can only shake his head, is only a second from throwing toji over the side, murmuring through the glass: “come inside, baby, it’s cold.”

roommate!suguru who watches it all happen in slow motion, the corded muscles of toji’s arm as he hands the cigarette towards your face. you look at it, back at suguru: your face doesn’t betray a thing. not at first, anyway.

roommate!suguru who stands like an idiot as you take your first inhale, small and self-conscious of the newness, and he can see the water in your eyes as it runs through your nose. his mouth must be open, his fists clenched, he knows you can see how furious he is. when you meet his gaze again you’re smiling at him, tiny and only for the two of you, but it’s fucking filthy. you seem to take some erotic sort of joy in smoking from toji’s cig, your eyes alight only enough for suguru to know that you know what it’ll do to him.

you take one more small pull before handing it back, holding the smoke in your mouth as you tug the door to the side and walk back toward your room, blowing it into suguru’s face as you go.

the whole display is entirely out of character and almost unbelievable coming from you, but fuck he can’t help that he’s pulsing in his jeans as he watches you go.

roommate!suguru who can’t wait until his friends leave, allows them to continue imposing themselves on his living room while he ruts into his closed fist in his bedroom, still tasting the smog from your lips and the sweetness underneath, the soft scent of your mouth and your tongue.

“fuck,” he groans, stroking himself faster with his own arousal as it drips from his slit.

he wonders whether you’d let him fuck you with everyone still in the other room, if you’d be wet enough to see through your panties. he wants to tug them to the side and fuck you through them, leave the scent of his cock on your clothes so you’re as tormented as he is.

he cums sharply, almost painfully, the hot ropes of it burning his skin as he wipes it clean.

it’s only when his ears unfold themselves from the muffled sound of arousal that he hears it, a faint ah!ah!ah! from the other side of the wall, the squelching sound of your fingers deep in your pussy, god he wants to see it. he wants you to teach him how you like it.

jesus christ. happy fucking birthday to him.

divider by @thecutestgrotto !!

[hellowoolf]

on my way to the gyno for the first time knowing i’m gonna have a sincere and genuine freakout if someone tries to put their fingers in me (they will) !!!!

i am actually serving boots right now though so hoping that saves me

[hellowoolf]

✦ silverfox!gojo fixing your car ﾉ eighteen plus

The unrelenting sun beat down on your bare calves kicked up on the dashboard, a strawberry lollipop lazily hung between your lips as you rolled the window down. The warmth tickled your skin, gently and infinitely. “You any closer, old man?”

Gojo bumped his head against the propped hood with an unceremonious thunk!—lowering it to give you a sideways grin—wrench in hand and a swipe of black soot across his pale cheeks. “Almost, sweet thing. Keep lookin’ cute for me.”

You giggled, running your tongue across your lower lip, watching his milky tresses stick out from the top of the hood as he resumed his work.

Your car had broken down in your driveway, enter you calling your sugar daddy and silver fox, Satoru Gojo. He wasted no time heading over to you, spilling some lame excuse to his kid and his kids friends before rushing out.

He got to work right away, pulling out some toolbox and rubbing his sweat beaded hairline with the bottom of his cotton tee as the sweltering heat only continued to pulse through the afternoon.

You couldn’t help but nibble on your lip when you’d catch a glimpse of his corded forearms at work, or the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he’d take a sip of water, or his height looming over practically everything, including you.

Just the sight of him had slick pooling in your panties, a distressed whine suddenly leaving your lips.

Gojo’s hand clasped the hood to push it down, taking a peek at you. “You alright, baby?”

You quickly shook your head, pursing your lips into a pout.

Worry colored him as he hurried over to your window, placing a forearm against the top of the car as he practically folded in half to reach your eye line. “What’s wrong?”

You tossed your head back onto the headrest with an exasperated sigh. “Need you,” you huffed in a whisper, dragging your hands across your jean shorts and adjusting the way you were seated.

Gojo’s eyes widened at your bluntness, gaze fixing on the way your thighs clenched and rubbed against each other, desperate for some sort of friction on your clothed cunt. “I see,” he said, adjusting the lower rim of his glasses with the back of his hand. “How about this, sweetness? You get to the back seat and get yourself started, and I’ll finish up here then help you out?”

You met his strikingly blue orbs with doe eyes, watery with desire, nodding quickly.

“Good girl.”

It didn’t take you long to get seated in the back, draping yourself over the leather, your mind somewhere else as you unbuttoned the top clasp of your jeans. You didn’t even care that your entire neighborhood would be able to see you toying with your clit in your car.

As you slipped a finger between your swollen folds, Gojo was fumbling around, trying to finish up as a lewd moan carried out from the rolled down window. He could feel his hardened length grow, pressing against your car as he sighed.

God, you were such a fucking tease.

And as the little minx you were, you had to rut your hips in circular motions against your fingers, enough to get the car swaying and rocking right into his hips.

Gojo keeled over at the pressure, lashes fluttering shut, feeling like some perverted and horny teenager again at the way you had him riled up. His white and grey tresses fell over his forehead, ignoring the way your next-door neighbor asked him if he was okay before waving a dismissive hand with a feigned smile.

Gojo worked way quicker now, huffing under his breath as his cheeks only warmed, a red flush from the crown of his ears to his nape.

“‘Toru,” you whimpered out in your horny reverie, bucking your pelvis against your palm as your jean shorts only moved further and further down your thighs.

The door to the backseat swung open, nearly flying off of its hinges.

You peered up, matching Gojo’s stare that was now dark and lidded, enough to make you clench fruitlessly around nothing. 

“Don’t stop, sweetness. ‘Toru’s right here, hm?”

You watched with a slack and drooling maw as he began to unbutton the top clasp of his jeans, pushing his briefs to the side as his angry cock swung free. You did the same, shimmying your shorts right off and tossing them against the center console lazily.

He wasted no time curling those slender and dexterous fingers around his massive shaft, fisting himself as you attempted to catch your breath, eyes lingering across the intricate veins that bulged from his cylindrical member.

“Go on, then, baby. What’cha waitin’ for?” He winked, leaning over to get a better view and digging his knees into the leather.

He hovered over you now, your fingers pumping themselves back into your core, your head tossed back as his breath fanned over your nose. He huffed, picking up speed as seed dribbled from his sticky tip, dripping onto your soaked pussy.

“Justtttt like that gorgeous, c’mon. Fuck yourself for me,” he spoke directly into your mouth, before crashing his lips against yours.

The car only continued to sway as your bodies began to bump into each other, relishing in each other’s desire—your fingers curling against your gooey walls and Gojo dragging his thumb over his weeping tip.

Gojo’s freehand curled against the headrest, knuckles whitening as his tongue slipped past your parted lips, your whines shallowly slipping down his throat and making his chest hum with satisfaction.

He tilted his head, nibbling on your lower lip before dragging his tongue across your cheek in one long, languid stripe, then moving down to suck against the sweet spot he’d marked time and time again upon your neck he knew would have you whining. Your thighs began to twitch with the overstimulation, using your other hand to tweak with your bundle of nerves, flicking your erect hood.

Your back arched off of the backseat, something familiar knotting up in your gut as you began to chant Gojo’s nickname like a prayer.

“You close?” he groaned, chest heaving as he had been holding out, keeping himself teetering on the precipice so the two of you could unravel together.

“I-inside,” you huffed, eyes fluttering shut as your fingers struggled to brush against that spot Gojo was just so good at nudging.

Gojo pressed his mushroomed tip against your clenching and drooling hole, easing in as you accommodated to his girth that was an insane difference from your digits. You placed a hand on his shoulder, gasping at the pressure of him sliding in, spearing you on his cock.

“F-fucking hell,” he grunted, peering down at where you were connected, wide eyes watching how he buried himself to the hilt despite how tight your hole was.

“‘S so d-deep… please,” you pleaded, not even sure what exactly you were asking for as you wrapped your trembling legs around his waist, ankles digging into the fabric of his blue jeans.

Gojo eased back out while stifling a whine, before slowly pushing himself back in a few times, allowing you to properly open up. No matter how badly he wanted to quickly sheath himself, he was afraid he’d break a young girl like you.

“Mmf! Almost… almost t-there,” you moaned out, curling your fingers in his top into a fist, the feel of his thick length bursting you open, filling you in ways that surprised you each time he fucked you.

“Y-yeah?” He queried, doing everything not to stuff you full of his load right here and now.

“Cum in me, please,” you slurred out, eyes watery as he bumped into your cervix repeatedly.

Those simple words had Gojo gushing immediately, coming undone as he buried himself even further, a guttural groan leaving him as you damn-near screamed.

You could feel his cock twitch in your fluttering cunt, still releasing as your vision whitened, feeling undeniably full of his cum painting your walls white.

After a few moments of the both of you catching your breaths, he pulled out, removing his frames and moving to your cunt to get a close-up of his semen leaking from your sore hole.

You covered your face, attempting to close your aching legs, but Gojo only held them open, moving forward to leave a kitten lick against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

You jerked at the contact, a yelp leaving your lips. “‘Toru….” you pleaded, expression fucked out. 

Gojo slapped your cunt, furrowing his eyebrows at you, still adorning that crazed look. “Hush. This sweet girl’s talkin’ t’me.”

You couldn’t mask the smile creeping upon your lips, covering your face and rolling around his backseat.

His hands found your waist, tickling you, before leaning up and placing a tender kiss against your head. “You alright?”

You nodded, cheeks hurting from how hard he makes you smile. “Car all good?”

Gojo stilled at that, opening his mouth for a few seconds before speaking. “Uh, almost. Got kinda distracted.”

You swatted his chest playfully. “Hey, you told me—.”

He crashed his lips against yours again to interrupt your scolding, making sure you tasted your own arousal on his lips, swiping his tongue against yours before pulling away. “Round two?”

“Don’t change the subject!”

[hellowoolf]

roommate!suguru x fem!reader

part 2<< | part 3

nsfw, mdni please!

masterlist

roommate!suguru who, despite his near constant griping in the approaching weeks, finds himself hosting his whole friend group the night of his birthday. satoru gets high and extends himself fully on the couch, eyes red and watery and purring; sukuna seems at all moments engaged in an unyielding search for something to eat in suguru’s pantry; choso, for no discernible reason, brings his bass, strumming low to harmonize with whatever song crackles from suguru’s speaker.

roommate!suguru who smells it before he sees it, the cloying puff of tobacco wafting in from the balcony, and then his whole body locks into place: it’s you, leaned against the railing with fucking toji while he takes long pulls from his cig.

you’re dwarfed next to him, soft and warm in a cardigan you wrap tight around your middle in the midnight chill, but the real betrayal is the way toji’s scar twitches with a smirk behind the screen of the smoke, the way you laugh in turn.

roommate!suguru who knocks lightly on the sliding door, relishing only a moment in the way your cheeks warm further when you see him. you furrow your brows in question: what’s wrong? he can only shake his head, is only a second from throwing toji over the side, murmuring through the glass: “come inside, baby, it’s cold.”

roommate!suguru who watches it all happen in slow motion, the corded muscles of toji’s arm as he hands the cigarette towards your face. you look at it, back at suguru: your face doesn’t betray a thing. not at first, anyway.

roommate!suguru who stands like an idiot as you take your first inhale, small and self-conscious of the newness, and he can see the water in your eyes as it runs through your nose. his mouth must be open, his fists clenched, he knows you can see how furious he is. when you meet his gaze again you’re smiling at him, tiny and only for the two of you, but it’s fucking filthy. you seem to take some erotic sort of joy in smoking from toji’s cig, your eyes alight only enough for suguru to know that you know what it’ll do to him.

you take one more small pull before handing it back, holding the smoke in your mouth as you tug the door to the side and walk back toward your room, blowing it into suguru’s face as you go.

the whole display is entirely out of character and almost unbelievable coming from you, but fuck he can’t help that he’s pulsing in his jeans as he watches you go.

roommate!suguru who can’t wait until his friends leave, allows them to continue imposing themselves on his living room while he ruts into his closed fist in his bedroom, still tasting the smog from your lips and the sweetness underneath, the soft scent of your mouth and your tongue.

“fuck,” he groans, stroking himself faster with his own arousal as it drips from his slit.

he wonders whether you’d let him fuck you with everyone still in the other room, if you’d be wet enough to see through your panties. he wants to tug them to the side and fuck you through them, leave the scent of his cock on your clothes so you’re as tormented as he is.

he cums sharply, almost painfully, the hot ropes of it burning his skin as he wipes it clean.

it’s only when his ears unfold themselves from the muffled sound of arousal that he hears it, a faint ah!ah!ah! from the other side of the wall, the squelching sound of your fingers deep in your pussy, god he wants to see it. he wants you to teach him how you like it.

jesus christ. happy fucking birthday to him.

divider by @thecutestgrotto !!

[hellowoolf]

planning for the next one shot is going well