#and to not tell u that u look pretty or hot

[diamonddaze01]

Lilac Wine

pairing: ljh x afab!reader genre: angst, smut (MINORS DNI!!!!!) | wc: 2.7k warnings: infidelity, unprotective sex (wrap it before u tap it kids), crying a/n: loosely based on melt by josef salvat // i’m dedicating this to link @choism (who also made the banner, love u) // huge thanks to maren @wooahaeproductions for beta-ing (your comments always give me life)!

In the dark, Jihoon learns how to break you apart and build you back together, piece by piece.

It begins slowly; a movie night where you drift off to sleep on his shoulder, after having cried yourself hoarse. Jihoon learns that night that he absolutely hates your boyfriend. He also learns that he could love you so much better, if you'd only give him the chance.

Jihoon sits frozen in the dimly lit room, his eyes locked on your sleeping form. He takes in the small details, the curve of your lips and the flutter of your eyelashes as you breathe. He can see the rise and fall of your chest with each breath, the way your hair falls delicately over your face, and the scattered constellations of moles that decorate your skin. He takes in every detail, committing it to memory with an unwavering gaze.

And then, like you can feel his gaze on you, you startle awake. And you don't push him away. No, you lay your head on his shoulder, and it takes every working nerve in Jihoon's sleep-addled mind not to kiss you right there. But you look so pretty like this, staring up at him from under your eyelashes, and he thinks he might die. But he'll be damned if he dies here without having kissed you, without having showed you how much better it could be - so he does. And you absolutely melt into him with a soft sigh, like you've been waiting for this too.

And so, late at night, Jihoon learns exactly where to put his lips so you make the prettiest noises. When his lips finds the junction where your neck meets your shoulder, you gasp, arching into him, and it makes him almost combust on the spot. And the he remembers.

The boyfriend, the traitorous voice in his mind reminds him, and he breaks apart from you with a startled gasp. Your chest is heaving, your lips are kiss-bitten and plump, and Jihoon has never felt this guilty in his entire life.

“We can’t,” he breathes, and it breaks his heart. In his heart, he knows, more deeply and more powerfully than anything he’s ever known before, how much better he would be for you. But he can’t, not right now, and the thought cleaves his chest in two.

“I know,” you whisper back, as if you’re afraid to break this very fragile bubble that exists around just the two of you. Your eyes fill with tears, and Jihoon yearns. It’s like second nature, the way his hand cups your jaw, the way his thumb brushes a stray tear off your cheek. Before he can stop himself, before that traitorous voice can say anything else, he leans in again. His lips find yours, and he can taste the salt of your tears, the bitter taste of your guilt.

He should stop. He should. But then you kiss him back, again, and every rational thought flies out the window. His hands find the hem of your shirt, and you shiver so delightfully against him when his cold fingers find your warm skin.

“Jihoon-”

Jihoon's breath is hot against the nape of your neck, his words a desperate plea mixed with intense desire. "Tell me to stop," he whispers, his voice reverberating with urgency. "I'll do anything you say."

But you don't. Instead, your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him closer. Your body arches into his touch, craving more, and he groans, kissing down your neck with a fervor that makes his head spin. Your skin feels like fire, but he’s so willing to let himself burn, even if it’s only for tonight.

"We shouldn't," you whisper, even as your hands roam beneath his shirt, tracing the contours of his back.

Jihoon pulls back slightly, his dark eyes searching yours. "Do you want me to stop?" he asks again, his voice husky and strained.

You shake your head, unable to form the words. He sees the hesitance dancing in your eyes. It's wrong, you know it's wrong, but it feels so right. Your fingers fumble with the buttons of his shirt, trembling with a mix of anticipation and guilt. Jihoon's breath catches in his throat as your hands slide across his bare chest. He pulls back slightly, searching your eyes for any sign of hesitation or regret. But all he finds is a reflection of his own desire, burning just as brightly.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” you breathe, and Jihoon knows that he’ll worship you for as long as he can have you. He’ll lose himself in you, over and over.

And so, in the dark, as the movie credits play, Jihoon learns the curve of your neck, the softness of your skin. He memorizes the cadence of your voice, the rhythm of your heartbeat, the taste of your lips. You are his religion, and he worships at your altar with reverent hands and whispered prayers.

With each touch, each kiss, Jihoon feels himself falling deeper. He knows this moment is fleeting, stolen in the shadows of night, but he can't bring himself to stop. His fingers trace patterns on your skin, mapping out constellations he'll never forget. Every sigh, every shiver, every soft moan is etched into his memory. They linger in the deepest corners of his mind, like delicate brushstrokes on a canvas, a masterpiece of sensation that he will never tire of admiring.

As clothes fall away, discarded on the floor, Jihoon takes his time. He wants to savor every second, every sensation. His lips ghost over your collarbone, down your chest, across your stomach. He feels your fingers tighten in his hair, hears your breath hitch. His hands find the elastic of your panties, and suddenly, it’s like he can’t breathe.

"Jihoon," you whisper, his name a prayer on your lips.

He looks up at you, drinking in the sight. Your hair is mussed, cheeks flushed, eyes dark with desire. You've never looked more beautiful. He finds your clit, and the sound you make sounds better than anything he could create in his studio. It’s heaven and hell, all at once, the way your hips grind against his palm, the scent of your arousal permeating his senses.

“Fuck,” he hisses, sliding your soaked panties down your thighs, “you’re so fucking wet.”

Your breath catches at his words, a shiver running through your body. Jihoon's fingers move with deliberate slowness, teasing and exploring. He watches your face intently, memorizing every flutter of your eyelashes, every parting of your lips. If this is the only time he’ll ever have this, then by God, he wants to remember everything, so he can play it back, night after night.

"Please," you whimper, your hips bucking against his hand.

Jihoon's breath catches in his throat. He's dreamed of this moment for so long, imagined the sound of your voice begging for him. But reality is so much sweeter, so much more intoxicating. Jihoon feels drunk on the power of your pleasure, on the way you respond to his every caress. He slides one finger inside you, then another, marveling at the tight, wet heat. Your walls clench around him, and he has to bite back a groan.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh. "So perfect."

His thumb circles your clit as his fingers curl inside you, searching for that spot that makes you see stars. When he finds it, you cry out, your back arching off the couch.

“More,” you plead, your voice a husky whisper that cuts straight through him, igniting every nerve ending. The need in your voice is intoxicating, and he obeys without a second thought. Your fingers tangle in his hair, urging him on as if you can’t get close enough, can’t pull him into you fast enough. “God, you’re exquisite,” he breathes, the words escaping him as he drinks in the sight of you. And then he’s there, his mouth on you, and it’s as if his world has exploded into color. You taste like a sinner’s salvation, sweet and salty and like guilt. Like lilac wine—bittersweet and intoxicating—you linger on his tongue, the taste of something forbidden yet holy, and he drinks you in, helplessly devout.

Jihoon’s tongue works in tandem with his fingers—each movement deliberate as he relishes the way your body writhes above him, how you tug at his hair as if you can't stand to have him any closer.  Your thighs tremble around his head, and he can’t help but revel in the way your body responds to him. Your breath comes in short, desperate gasps, and he knows you’re getting close with each flick and curl of his fingers.

He feels your walls fluttering around him, tightening in a way that makes his heart race. It’s a thrilling sensation, knowing he’s bringing you to the edge. With every gentle press of his fingers, he can see the pleasure building inside you, your body arching in anticipation.

“Please, Jihoon,” you whimper, and that plea ignites something deep within him. He’s captivated by how beautifully you’re coming apart in his hands, and it drives him mad.

“Let go for me,” he murmurs against you, adding a little more pressure with his thumb as his fingers pick up the pace. The room is filled with the sound of your soft moans, and he watches your expressions shift with every movement, completely entranced.

Just when he thinks he can’t take it anymore, he feels you tighten around him, trembling as your body responds to the building waves of pleasure. For a second, Jihoon swears he reaches nirvana; the sounds you make race through him like lightning bolts.

“Let go,” he urges softly, and in that moment, your body shudders, and a cry of bliss escapes your lips. Jihoon feels a rush of satisfaction wash over him as you come undone beneath him, skin glowing with exertion. Jihoon works you through it, gentling his movements as you come down from your high. He presses soft kisses to your inner thighs, your stomach, slowly making his way back up your body.

He looks up at you, eyes glinting with desire, feeling an overwhelming urge to mark this moment forever—the way you look, the way you sound. He nods, as if promising to deliver everything you crave, and rises to lean over you again, capturing your lips with his. The kiss is searing, a desperate scramble of breaths and desires as your tongues entwine. You taste like the rapture, but the taste of your tears sends shockwaves of terror through him. Jihoon knows he is a sinner – but if the road to hell tastes as sweet as you, he’ll make the journey a thousand times over.  

Breaking the kiss, Jihoon reaches for his jeans, hastily shedding that last barrier between you. His heart races as he positions himself at your entrance, locking eyes with you in a moment that feels monumental. “Are you sure?” he asks again, the weight of the question lingering between you like a promise, an invitation. 

There are tears in your eyes when you take one of his hands in yours, guiding it to rest against your cheek. “Yes,” you whisper, your heart racing in tandem with his. The certainty in your voice ignites a fire within him, erasing every doubt that dared to linger. “I want this. I want you.”

With those words, Jihoon feels something inside him break and reform. He enters you slowly, savoring every inch, every sensation. The feeling is overwhelming, almost spiritual in its intensity. Your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, meant to be joined. He stills for a moment, forehead pressed against yours, breathing heavily.

"You feel incredible," he breathes, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. The moan that escapes your lips is the sweetest sound Jihoon has ever heard. He begins to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm. Each thrust feels like coming home, like finding a piece of himself he never knew was missing.

Your hands roam his back, nails digging in slightly as the pleasure builds. Jihoon kisses you deeply, swallowing your moans. He wants to memorize every sound, every expression, every sensation.

Jihoon's hips snap forward, and you cry out, arching beneath him. He feels drunk on the sounds you make, on the way your body responds to his. The room is filled with the sound of skin against skin, of ragged breaths and soft moans. Jihoon can't tear his eyes away from your face, watching as pleasure washes over you in waves. Your skin is flushed, a light sheen of sweat making you glow in the dim light. He can't take his eyes off you, mesmerized by the way your lips part with each thrust, the way your eyes flutter closed in ecstasy.

"Look at me," he whispers, his voice rough with desire. "I want to see you."

Your eyes open, meeting his gaze. The intensity of the moment is almost too much to bear. Jihoon feels exposed, vulnerable, but he can't look away. He sees everything in your eyes - the pleasure, the guilt, the overwhelming desire. It's a mirror of his own emotions, and it threatens to consume him. Your hands cup his face, pulling him down for a kiss that's both tender and desperate. Jihoon's hips stutter, his rhythm faltering as he loses himself in the taste of your lips. He feels your walls tightening around him, knows you're close.

"Jihoon," you gasp, breaking the kiss. "I'm close..."

He nods, understanding. His hand snakes between your bodies, finding your clit. He circles it with his thumb, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

"Come for me," he urges, his voice low and husky. "Let me see you fall apart."

Your body responds to his words, to his touch. You're trembling beneath him, teetering on the edge of bliss. Jihoon watches in awe as pleasure washes over you. Your back arches, pressing your chest against his. Your walls clench around him, pulsing with your release. The sight of you coming undone, combined with the feeling of you tightening around him, pushes Jihoon over the edge.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his groan as his hips stutter, driving deep as he spills inside you. For a moment, the world narrows to just the two of you, bodies intertwined, breaths mingling.

As the waves of pleasure subside, reality begins to creep back in. Jihoon lifts his head, meeting your gaze. There's a mix of emotions in your eyes - satisfaction, affection, and a hint of guilt. He knows his own expression must mirror yours.

Slowly, carefully, he pulls out and lies beside you on the narrow couch. You turn to face him, and he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face. The gesture is tender, intimate in a way that makes his heart ache. Just tonight, he reminds himself. Only for tonight.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly, searching your face for any sign of regret.

Your tears start anew, and Jihoon swears he can hear his own heart crumbling. “Fuck,” you whimper, pulling at the ends of your hair. “Fuck! Jihoon, what did we just do?”

His body aches for you, his soul hungers for yours, but all he can offer is his embrace as he held you close against his chest. He can feel your tears, hot and guilt-ridden, and he feels like he’s just made the biggest mistake in the world.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, his own tears falling onto your hair.

Sleep comes slowly, hours later, as the night ends and the next morning begins. It takes him hours to calm your breathing, to soothe your tears, to coax you into a fitful sleep.

He’s sure he’ll never sleep again.

But when he wakes, you’re gone - every trace of you that he had tried so desperately to memorize has been wiped clean from his apartment. It was as if you had never been there at all.

This is what hell feels like, Jihoon thinks to himself.

In the dark, Jihoon learned how to break you apart and build you back together — but in the harsh light of day, it’s him that’s left broken. 

[creamflix]

UNSCRIPTED — toji fushiguro x female reader [chapter 2/?]

summary: you’re a faceless author of scandalous smut — great at writing steamy scenes but totally clueless about real-life romance (and with no one to match your freak). enter toji fushiguro, a hot stranger you (accidentally) throw up on during a drunken night out. surprise! he’s also the future voice actor for your smutty novel’s main character. can you survive the awkwardness of your disastrous meet-cute while keeping your identity (and dignity) a secret? welcome to the chaos of your own erotic fantasy romcom!

content warning & tags: (erotic) voice artist! toji, (smut) writer! reader, smutty content!! [will be added over the course of the series], sort of workplace romance, secret/anon identity, slight social media au, meet-cute, virgin!reader, single dad dilf! toji, kid! megumi, strangers to lovers (?), she fell first but he fell harder, mentions of other characters (satoru gojo, suguru geto, megumi fushiguro, shoko eiri, brief mentions of ryomen sukuna)

notes: hi friends !! i hope u're liking the series so far <3 seems like persephone! suguru can't catch a break huh D: i wanted to highlight the same scene[s] from suguru's perspective, just to give him a lil depth :") if u want to keep up with the series more quicker, i highly suggest keeping up with the series on ao3 [for quicker updates ^^] thank you to my taglist for their support too :)

read on ao3! ● series masterlist

➤ related au: persephone [business tycoon! sukuna x reader]

the drive to megumi’s school was unusually quiet. 

normally, toji would lean into his usual “cool, brooding single dad” act — just enough to avoid attention but keep an edge. but today, he’d done something weirdly out of character: asked you to tag along. 

not that he’d admit it was for any other reason than megumi, obviously. 

nope. definitely nothing else to it.

just… kinda nice having you along for the ride, right?

the two of you settled into his car, and you couldn’t help but smirk at how the radio was suspiciously off. toji didn’t give any explanation, but you were pretty sure it was a preventative measure to avoid another “iris” moment and the resulting accidental kiss. 

which, okay, was kinda cute.

toji tapped his fingers against the wheel, casting the occasional sideways glance at you before finally saying, “so… just curious.” he cleared his throat, like he was trying not to make a big deal out of the question. “what made you, uh… you know, want to write those books?”

you blinked. “oh, my books?”

“yeah, the… passionate ones.” he coughed, looking anywhere but at you. “like, what inspired you to write those… intensely worded stories?”

you laughed, caught off guard. “okay, first of all, ‘intensely worded?’ that’s one way to put it.”

“look, i’m trying to be polite,” he said, giving you a sidelong smirk that made your stomach flip. “but seriously. i mean, it’s a specific line of work. what got you into it?”

you chewed on the inside of your cheek, feeling the familiar blush creeping up. 

“uh, well… honestly, i just thought it was something fun to try out. i like romance and, you know… writing what people connect with. people like the, um, more intense stuff, so… figured i’d give it a shot.”

he nodded, taking it all in. “huh. so, all that… stuff you write —” he paused, trying to phrase it carefully. “that’s from experience or…?”

you let out an awkward laugh, your face heating up even more. “not exactly. i… well, i actually haven’t… i mean, i’m still… y’know.” 

you cleared your throat. “a virgin.”

toji’s eyes went wide. 

“wait, you’re telling me… all that detail, the way you describe things, and you haven’t even…”

“nope.” you shook your head, biting back a smile at his shocked expression. “guess you could say i have a good imagination?”

he let out a low whistle, looking at you with something that was a mix of admiration and… something else you couldn’t quite place. “well, i gotta give you credit. you write it like you’ve, uh, lived it.”

you shrugged, trying to play it cool. “guess it’s all about the research.”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “research, huh? well, you’ve got some serious talent in the ‘research’ department then. i’d hate to see what you’d write if you actually… y’know, had the experience.”

“well, maybe one day i will,” you shot back, feeling a little bolder. “and then my books will be even better.”

he chuckled, leaning back in his seat. “you’re something else.”

for a moment, the two of you just looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between you. 

the tension was thick enough to cut, and toji looked like he was about to say something else when megumi’s school finally came into view. he let out a breath, the moment effectively broken as he focused on finding a parking spot.

but as you both waited for megumi to come out, you couldn’t help but wonder what was going through toji’s head… and if he was thinking the same thing you were.

the second megumi spotted you and toji at the school gates, he was off like a shot, running toward you with all the enthusiasm of a kid who’d been waiting all day to see his favorite people. his grin was wide, and his little backpack bounced as he bolted up. and to your surprise (and toji's too), he didn’t go for his dad first — nope, he ran right into your arms like you were his personal safe haven.

“you came!” he squealed, hugging you tightly around the waist as if he hadn't just seen you yesterday. you laughed, hugging him back just as warmly, and you could practically feel the teachers’ eyes drilling holes into your back.

“of course i did,” you said, ruffling his hair. “what, you thought i’d miss out on picking you up?”

“nope!” he said proudly, pulling back and grabbing your hand as if to make sure you wouldn’t vanish.

toji stood off to the side, his hands in his pockets, trying to hide his smirk as he watched the scene unfold. yeah, he wasn’t about to complain about you being here — not at all.

as you all made your way back to the car, you couldn’t help but notice a few teachers and parents exchanging knowing looks, no doubt remembering how toji introduced you as his “colleague” yesterday. they didn’t look too convinced anymore.

inside the car, megumi settled comfortably between the two of you in the backseat, clutching his backpack like he was about to embark on the world’s most exciting road trip.

“sooo!” megumi started, a mischievous look in his eyes. “did you two have fun while i was in school?”

toji let out a tiny cough from the driver’s seat, looking at you in the rearview mirror with a hint of a smirk. “megumi, what exactly do you mean by ‘fun’?”

“i dunno, daddy!” megumi rolled his eyes in that dramatic way only an eight-year-old could pull off. “you were smiling all morning! you never do that!”

you tried to hide a smile yourself, glancing sideways at toji. “he was smiling all morning, huh?”

toji shot you a playful glare before focusing back on the road. “you got somethin’ to say about that?”

“nope, nothing at all,” you replied, suppressing a giggle.

“you’re smiling too!” megumi added, turning his full attention to you with a face that was way too smug for a kid his age. “did you like being with my dad today?”

your eyes widened as you exchanged a quick look with toji. “well, yes, i had a great time working with your dad,” you said carefully, trying to dodge the landmine that megumi had unknowingly set.

“yeah, but did you and daddy, like, do anything else? like on tv?”

toji almost choked, and you couldn’t stop a laugh from slipping out. “megs! we just talked and laughed a bit, nothing like in the movies, promise.”

megumi looked skeptical, folding his arms. “then why are you both acting all funny?”

“what do you mean, ‘funny’?” toji asked, raising an eyebrow in the rearview mirror.

“like… i dunno, all shy and weird,” megumi huffed, his brows furrowing in confusion. “like when the kids at school talk about people who like each other.”

your cheeks were definitely heating up, and you could tell toji was trying not to laugh.

“sometimes people just… act like that when they’re really comfortable,” toji explained, trying to sound nonchalant. “not everything’s like it is on tv.”

“oh,” megumi said, though he didn’t look totally convinced. 

“soooo, when are you guys gonna have a playdate without me?”

“what?” you and toji both burst out at the same time, while megumi just grinned, proud of himself for catching you both off guard.

“you two look like you want more playdates,,” he added with a shrug, like he was the expert on the subject.

toji shook his head, laughing under his breath. “how about you let the adults figure that out, hm?”

“fine, fine,” megumi said, obviously pleased with himself. “but i wanna know when you guys have another playdate, ‘kay?”

you patted his shoulder, chuckling. “deal, kiddo. you’ll be the first to know.”

as toji pulled out onto the street, you settled back, sharing an amused look with him in the mirror. and as megumi continued his non-stop chatter about school, dinosaurs, and how he wanted both of you to come to his next soccer game, you felt that fuzzy feeling again — the same one from last night. maybe having these two around wasn’t so bad at all.

toji pulled up to his house, shifting into park before a sudden realization hit him like a freight train — you were still along for the ride. it was supposed to be a quick pickup, maybe a casual goodbye once megumi was dropped off, but here you were, in the passenger seat, smiling as megumi practically buzzed with excitement beside you.

"uh… so… yeah, this is… my place,” he said, scratching the back of his head, feeling uncharacteristically awkward. he wasn’t sure if he should invite you in or just wave goodbye with some half-baked excuse. 

but before he could even finish his internal debate, megumi had his own plans.

“that means you can come see my room!” megumi exclaimed, his eyes lighting up as he threw open the door and scrambled out of the car.

“oh, i don’t wanna intrude —” you started, already moving to say goodbye, but megumi was way ahead, bounding up the steps and glancing back with an impatient wave.

“c’mon!” he insisted, practically dancing in place with excitement. “you gotta see my plushies and my legos! oh, and my origami stuff, and —”

toji opened the front door, and as soon as you were inside, megumi was by your side again, tugging at your hand with a grip surprisingly strong for a kid. “you gotta see everything!” he said, eyes gleaming.

“okay, okay!” you laughed, letting him lead the way.

toji watched, a little dumbfounded. he’d seen megumi excited before, sure, but this was a whole new level. “hey, uh, megs, maybe she’s tired. we don’t wanna overwhelm her, y’know?” he said, trying to sound casual and almost hoping you’d back out to save him from his own nerves.

“no way!” megumi protested, his voice emphatic. “she’s gotta see my dinos and my race cars and my drawings too! pleaseeee?”

“don’t worry, i think i can handle it,” you chuckled, shooting toji a reassuring look. 

he let out a sigh, feeling a mix of relief and… something else he really didn’t wanna unpack at the moment.

megumi practically dragged you down the hall toward what toji modestly called his “suite,” which was more like a sprawling kid paradise decked out in a swanky setup. it was undeniably luxurious — the kind of suite most people would call their whole apartment — but it was still a kid’s space through and through. plushies lay scattered around in a trail leading to the bedroom, where legos, crayons, toy cars, and origami creations decorated the floor in random bursts of color. every available surface was covered in megumi’s little projects and treasures.

“wow, megumi, you weren’t kidding!” you said, genuinely impressed. you walked over to a group of origami animals on his desk. “did you make all of these?”

“yep!” he puffed up his chest with pride, holding up a particularly crumpled paper crane. “this one’s my favorite. it didn’t come out great, but it’s special ‘cause daddy helped me with it.”

toji felt a funny warmth spread through his chest. he tried to brush it off, but it was hard to ignore seeing the two of you in his home, talking like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“and here’s mr. wiggles!” megumi said, suddenly pulling over a massive, well-loved teddy bear that looked like it’d been through a hundred battles. “daddy got him for me when i was little.”

“mr. wiggles is a great name,” you laughed, crouching down to inspect the bear. “i bet he’s been on a lot of adventures with you.”

“yeah, he’s been to the doctor with me, and the dentist, and he helps me with my homework sometimes,” megumi explained with the seriousness only an eight-year-old could muster.

toji chuckled, folding his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. “he’s a busy bear, huh?”

“super busy,” megumi agreed, pulling you over to his lego city next. 

“this is where the ninjas live, and over here’s where the dinosaurs hide.”

“oh, and here i thought ninjas and dinos couldn’t get along,” you teased, glancing over at toji, who was doing a poor job at hiding his amusement. “you must be the peacekeeper, megumi.”

“i am!” he laughed, then suddenly looked up at toji. 

“daddy, can she stay for dinner?”

toji’s eyes widened slightly. he hadn’t even considered dinner yet.

but the thought of you here, in his space, a part of his evening routine with megumi… it felt way too good to resist.

“uh, well, if she’s got the time,” he mumbled, scratching his neck and pretending to be cool about it. “you don’t gotta stick around if you got other things.”

“actually, i’d love to stay, if that’s okay?” you said, glancing between them both.

toji tried to act casual, even though his heart was doing a little victory lap. “yeah, sure. why not?”

“yes!” megumi cheered, already running out the door. “i’ll get the table ready!”

“is he… always this excited?” you asked, turning to toji with a chuckle.

“not usually,” toji admitted, scratching the back of his head. “guess you got that effect on him.”

the three of you settled around the table, megumi proudly munching away on his ironman-themed plate, the red and gold colors a little faded from years of use. he shot you a grin, already halfway through explaining ironman’s latest mission to save the world… for the third time.

toji, meanwhile, sat across from you, feeling inexplicably fidgety as he set down the fine china he’d pulled from the back of a cabinet. he'd dusted off every inch of those plates — his mind still spinning with why he even bothered. 

he wasn’t usually one for this kind of thing, but when he saw how carefully you ladled the stew into the bowls, he couldn’t help but notice you gave that same care to megumi too, nodding along as he chattered away about his superhero theories.

“you know, daddy never gets the cool plates out for anyone else,” megumi piped up, completely oblivious to the faint flush creeping up his dad’s face.

“oh really?” you chuckled, raising an eyebrow in toji’s direction. “well, i feel honored then. i’ll try not to drop it.”

toji groaned internally, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “kid’s got a big mouth,” he muttered, shooting megumi a faux warning look, though his own ears were burning.

“you’ve got good taste, though,” you teased him lightly, glancing down at the pristine white china with intricate blue patterns.

“yeah, well… s’just plates. they’re old,” toji shrugged, hoping that downplaying it would erase any significance you might read into the whole situation.

“old but pretty,” you said, not looking up as you ladled some stew for megumi, who was eagerly waiting with his bowl stretched out. “here you go, megumi. i made it a little less spicy for you, just like you asked.”

megumi’s eyes sparkled as he accepted the bowl. “thanks! you make the best stew!”

toji watched as you smiled back at megumi, completely absorbed in whatever he was babbling about, offering little “uh-huhs” and “reallys” as he animatedly described his favorite ironman scene. watching you like this, giving his kid your full attention even while busy in the kitchen, felt so… weird. 

like something he didn’t realize was missing, but now that it was there, he couldn’t imagine going without it.

“and then ironman totally blasts the villain’s robot suit — kaboom!” megumi finished, flinging his arms wide as if to demonstrate the explosion.

“kaboom, huh?” you laughed, sitting back in your chair, clearly enjoying his enthusiasm. “sounds intense.”

“yeah! ironman doesn’t mess around,” megumi said with a sage nod, as if passing on some universal wisdom. “but he’s gotta protect everyone, even the people who don’t like him.”

“sounds like a pretty cool guy,” you mused, glancing over at toji with a small smile. “maybe you two have something in common.”

“oh, god,” toji groaned, but he couldn’t fight the smirk that tugged at his lips. “don’t give him ideas, he’ll think i’m gonna go fight crime or somethin’.”

“wouldn’t that be so cool?” megumi interjected, eyes sparkling. “you could be like… iron dad!”

toji rolled his eyes, but he caught the look on your face — amused, warm, like you were seeing a side of him that no one else really noticed. 

and for some reason, that was way too close to the truth for comfort. 

he cleared his throat, glancing down at his stew to avoid meeting your gaze.

“maybe i’ll just stick to keeping this kid in one piece,” toji muttered, but his heart was beating a little faster than usual.

and as megumi kept up his enthusiastic rambling, it all started to feel too cozy, too right. the clinking of plates, the soft warmth in the air, the way you didn’t rush megumi but let him take center stage as he shared his endless thoughts — it all blended together into something that felt like home, even if toji wouldn’t dare say it out loud.

as you reached for another spoonful of stew, listening intently to megumi’s latest story about his lego creations, toji realized that, yeah… this felt pretty damn right.

megumi clutched his book eagerly, eyes shining as he snuggled into bed, clearly over the moon that you’d agreed to stay for his bedtime story. he gave toji a serious look, announcing, “since daddy can’t do girl voices — cuz he’s a voicing actor, but he’s not that good — you gotta help with the girl lines, okay?”

“oh, yeah?” toji shot him a mock glare. “that’s a pretty big request, squirt. you sure i can’t just, y’know, growl like a tiger or something?”

megumi shook his head, adamant. “nope! you’re supposed to be the bear prince, and she’s the bunny princess! and then they meet at the river — just read, daddy.”

toji rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t hide the faint smile as he settled in beside megumi, 

taking the book from his son’s hands. “alright, alright, let’s do this right. bunny princess and bear prince — sounds about as weird as it gets, but we’ll make it work.”

with megumi sandwiched between the two of you, you leaned over to see the page. 

“the bunny princess hopped through the forest, searching for her friend, the bear prince, who was known for his wisdom and strength,” you read in a soft voice, giving it your best princess tone.

megumi nodded, satisfied. “much better than uncle gojo,” he whispered to you in a conspiratorial tone, “his princess voice is just… weird.”

toji stifled a snicker, picking up the next line. 

“the bear prince, with his deep, growly voice, stepped out from behind the tree, saying, ‘i hear you’re lookin’ for a friend. well, look no further.’”

megumi giggled, clutching the blanket as he looked up at toji in admiration. “now that’s a good bear voice, daddy! you don’t gotta growl or nothing.”

you shot toji a playful look. “see? you’re already halfway to voice actor stardom.”

“sure, sure, as long as i don’t have to wear princess crowns, i think i’ll survive,” he smirked, giving the book back to you to read the bunny’s next line.

“‘oh, bear prince, i’m so happy to see you!’ the bunny princess chirped, hopping closer. ‘the forest feels so safe with you here.’”

toji took his turn, grinning. 

“‘that’s right, princess. stick close to me, and nothing can harm you — not even that pesky fox from the riverbank.’”

megumi, eyes already starting to droop, nodded in sage approval, mumbling, “bears are super strong…”

as the story unfolded, with each of you taking on your character’s lines, you couldn’t help but notice how megumi’s little body relaxed more and more, eyelids growing heavier as he listened to the tale of the bunny princess and bear prince’s forest adventure.

 finally, after you’d read the line where the bunny and bear bid each other goodnight under the stars, you heard megumi’s soft, even breathing.

you and toji shared a glance, both of you lowering your voices.

“looks like our audience conked out before the big finale,” you whispered with a smile, your voice barely above a murmur.

“heh,” toji chuckled, glancing at his son’s sleeping face. “usually he stays up longer, keeps asking for more.” he paused, watching you with a look that seemed to say more than his words. “maybe he’s just got a soft spot for princess voices… or maybe, you know, a good storyteller.”

a soft warmth settled in the quiet room, the gentle rise and fall of megumi’s breathing filling the space as you both stayed still for a moment, neither wanting to break the spell.

you stood up slowly from megumi’s bed, glancing down at the little guy, still out cold, his mouth slightly open as he clutched his iron man plush. the clock on the wall blinked “9:00 pm,” and your stomach sank a little — hadn’t you meant to leave hours ago? 

but when you made a quiet move toward the door, toji was right there, leaning in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets.

“you, uh, really don’t have to rush,” he said, almost nonchalant, though his gaze flicked over to megumi. “i mean, for his sake, y’know. wouldn’t want him freaking out if he wakes up in the middle of the night and you’re gone…”

“oh, of course,” you murmured, feeling a warm, slightly strange fluttering sensation at his words. 

“just… so he doesn’t get scared. yeah.”

you glanced down at yourself. god, what were you going to sleep in? your work clothes? 

toji seemed to read your mind, though, tilting his head a bit. “i think i got some old clothes you could wear if you want,” he offered, looking you up and down with that calm, appraising look that made you feel like he saw a bit more than he let on. “not the most fashionable, but they’re clean.”

“thanks, that’d be great,” you said, offering a small smile, and you turned to head toward the door to the guest room — then stopped. “wait… i think i left my phone on his nightstand.”

before you could overthink it, you turned back abruptly, intending to slip past toji back into megumi’s room. 

but somehow, in the dim lighting, the narrow doorway, the warmth of the moment… your face collided with his chest, and then, your lips met his, soft and sudden and all-consuming.

for a heartbeat, everything else fell away: the gentle ticking of the clock, the faint whirring of the a/c, even the warmth of megumi’s room. 

you felt nothing but the weight of toji’s lips against yours, the subtle intake of his breath as he seemed to register just what was happening. there was a moment of hesitation, and then his hand instinctively moved to your waist, pulling you closer with a soft, undeniable insistence.

his voice was a low whisper, barely more than a breath between you. “so… you were just gonna leave without even saying goodbye?”

for a split second, everything froze — the dim hallway, the soft, ambient sounds of the house, the fact that you were standing right outside megumi’s door, where one sleepy sound could catch you both. 

but that one breath against toji’s lips, so close, melted everything else away.

he didn’t pull back; if anything, his hold on your waist only tightened, fingers pressing just enough to send a warm ripple up your spine. his eyes met yours, slightly wide, as if he couldn’t quite believe he had you like this, so close. you could almost feel his heartbeat thrumming in sync with your own, and you let out a shaky breath, your lips brushing his again.

“this… is not what i planned when i came over,” you murmured, barely able to get the words out as your forehead touched his. “not — not in front of your kid’s room.”

“mm,” he whispered, gaze dropping to your lips, that barely-there smirk flickering across his face, “it’s a first for me too.” he held your gaze, his expression softening, something almost tender in his eyes as he raised his hand to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. 

“but if you wanted to leave… you would’ve pulled away by now.”

you bit your lip at the way his thumb lingered on your cheek, his breath warm against your skin, and before you knew it, your lips found his again. this time, it was slower, unhurried, like you had all the time in the world to feel the way his mouth moved against yours, soft and then a little firmer, as he seemed to lose himself in the moment.

he leaned into you, pressing you just slightly against the wall, his hand sliding from your waist up to the small of your back, drawing you close. the quiet was filled only with the shared breaths between you two, a quiet hum that passed between your lips, as if even the smallest sound might wake megumi just on the other side of the wall.

you found your hand on his chest, fingers curling in his shirt, pulling him a little closer, wanting to deepen the kiss even though every bit of common sense told you to stop. his lips parted, pressing small, lingering kisses along your lower lip, his fingers tracing gentle circles along your back as though he was trying to savor every second. you were barely breathing, lost in the warmth of him, feeling him melt just a little against you.

“god, you’re making it hard to stop,” he murmured against your lips, his voice almost a growl but so quiet it barely even registered.

“i don’t think i want to,” you whispered back, eyes meeting his in the dim light. he held your gaze, his thumb tracing a soft line along your cheek, but he didn’t move away, staying close, his nose brushing yours in a way that was so tender you almost forgot how precarious this was.

you both laughed quietly, the sound soft and low, the kind of laugh that was more of a breath shared between you. toji glanced back at megumi’s door, and for a second, his face softened in a way you rarely saw, as if he couldn’t help but feel this moment was just a little forbidden.

“maybe we should… try this somewhere a little less dangerous,” he muttered, though he didn’t make any move to let go, his gaze flicking back to yours.

“you mean… like a first date or something?” you murmured, lips curling into a soft smile.

“guess i don’t mind a second kiss either,” he replied, brushing his lips against yours one last time before stepping back, the space between you suddenly feeling too cold, too quiet.

as he stepped back, the reality of the hallway — the very literal door to his son’s room right beside you — set in, but the warmth still lingered, and the smile he gave you as he walked you down the hall felt like a promise for something more, something you both couldn’t wait to explore.

the “boys night” at gojo-sonic’s swanky office was nothing short of its usual absurdity, with gojo dubbing it the “greatest tradition ever” as he practically threw around the “finest” sweet alcohol like it was candy. 

toji was there, albeit begrudgingly, mostly due to gojo’s persistence (“c’mon, you’re the only one who knows how to enjoy this premium stuff!”), and suguru joined from a dimly-lit zoom window, his face half-smiling, half-tired as he sipped on a glass of his own.

“missing out, suguru,” gojo teased, tilting back his drink. “oh, but thanks for the wine, by the way. nothing says ‘wish i were there’ like sending over a box of booze from you and your business partner.”

“oh, for heaven’s sake,” suguru muttered, though his smirk suggested he didn’t mind. “it was a halloween release. figured it’d keep you all happy and…unbearable.”

toji chuckled, swirling his glass and trying not to roll his eyes as gojo feigned offense.

“unbearable? me?” gojo put a hand over his heart. “if you actually joined us in person, you’d see i’m the highlight of this ‘boys night.’ it’s practically a public service, sugu-boo. oh, and shoutout to persephone for making it possible, of course.”

“yeah, yeah, you’re a real gift to mankind,” suguru replied, his tone deadpan, but his smile lingered as he took a sip. 

“so what’re you boys talking about? since i can’t be there to hear it firsthand.”

toji shifted, debating on whether or not he wanted to launch into the mess that had been swirling in his head all week. but with the alcohol settling in and gojo’s usual chatter as encouragement, it was hard to hold back. he sighed, resting his elbow on the arm of the chair, looking anywhere but the screen.

“oh, just, y’know… kid stuff.”

gojo raised a brow. “kid stuff? you mean, how megumi’s practically obsessed with y/n?”

“please,” toji groaned, rubbing his temple. “that kid’s dragging her around like she’s his second parent.”

“sounds like he’s got good taste,” suguru noted with a grin, sipping his wine. “and from what you said last week, he’s already planning on keeping her around for life, huh?”

toji shot him a look through the screen, but he knew they were right. megumi was over the moon whenever you came around, from showing off every little toy he owned to making you part of bedtime stories. 

it was adorable, sure, but it made this whole situation way more… intense than he’d signed up for.

“kid talks about her all the time,” toji admitted, swirling his glass again. “like, even his teachers thought she was his mom or something. and she…well, she’s good with him. she’s damn good.” he looked down, a smirk tugging at his lips. “which, believe it or not, i didn’t expect when we first met.”

“ohhh?” gojo leaned in, that smirk of his spreading as he raised a brow. “and you? what did you expect?”

toji glanced away, that hint of a smirk still there, despite himself. “don’t make me say it.”

“oh, we’re making you say it,” gojo teased, sliding another drink his way. “so, you’re saying she’s…wife material?”

suguru nearly choked on his drink, and the way he was watching toji from the screen made it clear he wasn’t missing a second of this.

toji scoffed, taking a gulp to keep from saying anything too embarrassing. “she’s… special. hell, i didn’t plan on getting attached, and yet —” he paused, chuckling almost self-consciously. “i feel like a damn teenager.”

“and here i thought you were the king of nonchalance,” suguru teased, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

“yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” toji muttered, trying to shake it off. 

but the truth was, the second he was alone, he found himself thinking about you, about the way megumi’s face lit up when you were around, the way you just… fit into their little world without even trying. 

it was surreal. 

the damn wine probably didn’t help, either.

gojo slapped him on the back, clearly enjoying this way too much. “well, for what it’s worth,” he said, his voice surprisingly sincere, “megumi deserves someone good. and maybe you do too.”

toji rolled his eyes, but he didn’t bother denying it. if anything, he felt the tiniest glimmer of hope. 

that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t screw this one up.

gojo snickered, his smirk all-knowing as he raised his glass. “i’ve got it,” he said with way too much enthusiasm, the kind he only had when he was on the brink of embarrassing the hell out of someone. “toji, you and y/n could do a joint wedding with suguru and his ‘business partner.’ i mean, if suguru grows a spine and confesses, that is.”

on the other end of the zoom call, suguru’s smirk vanished as fast as it appeared, and he looked away, running a hand through his hair. “not happening,” he muttered, all but glaring at the screen. “it’s… complicated.”

gojo pouted, tilting his head in mock sympathy. “oh, come on. ‘complicated’? it’s not that deep. just throw her some wine, flash that tragic backstory, and she’ll be yours in no time.”

“it’s not that simple,” suguru snapped, though his face softened as he leaned back, sighing. 

“besides, we’re in… limbo, i guess. we’ve had our confessions, but there’s no label. not yet, anyway.”

“awww,” gojo teased, his voice dripping with feigned sympathy. 

“look at us! a bunch of grown men, all hung up on love troubles. what happened to the days when it was just work, money, and some good old-fashioned ego trips?”

“those days are over,” toji grunted, crossing his arms as he glanced at the screen. “but you’d know a thing or two about those ‘ego trips,’ wouldn’t you?”

suguru let out a snort of laughter, finally letting himself relax a little. “and don’t forget ryomen sukuna,” he added, the name alone making everyone groan. “that bastard practically swooped in to turn our business lives upside down and make everything more… interesting. joint venture or not, the guy’s insufferable. he’s like a cat, always hissing and scratching his way to the top.”

gojo laughed, tipping his drink toward the screen. “tell me about it. it’s like everyone has a thorn in their side when it comes to love these days.” 

he smirked, nudging toji. “and you, my friend, are no exception. so when’s the confession, huh? are we waiting on some fairytale moment here?”

toji rolled his eyes, swirling the last of his drink. “i’m not confessing to anyone,” he grumbled. “i’ve got megumi to think about.”

“right, right, megumi,” gojo said, drawing out the name with a grin that was anything but innocent. “and here i thought you liked y/n for yourself.”

“and here i thought you’d shut up at some point tonight,” toji shot back, but his lips betrayed him with a faint, reluctant smirk.

suguru leaned forward, his voice softer. “well, at least megumi’s happy with her around, right? maybe… it’s worth taking a chance.”

toji’s smirk faded, his expression thoughtful. “maybe.”

“see?” gojo beamed, practically giddy. “love is in the air, boys. even for the most stubborn among us.”

suguru shook his head, a smile creeping back onto his face. “well, here’s to complicated feelings and maybe, just maybe, getting them right someday.”

they all raised their glasses, clinking to their shared madness in work, love, and everything in between.

you flopped back on your bed, barely able to keep the grin off your face as you hit the facetime button for shoko. she picked up after a few rings, a cigarette lazily dangling from her fingers, eyebrows raised as she took in your expression.

“uh-oh. what’s got you looking like that?” she asked, smirking.

you let out a giddy little laugh, immediately burying your face in your hands. “shoko, i swear i’m losing it. i’m a grown woman, but i feel like a teenager. it’s embarrassing.”

“this better be good,” she drawled, putting the cigarette to her lips and leaning back, looking every bit the part of the unimpressed but totally-invested best friend.

“okay, okay,” you said, voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. “toji kissed me. twice — by accident, both times. twice, shoko!”

she let out a low whistle, blowing out a plume of smoke. “so the ‘brooding single dad’ finally made his move, huh? you know, twice starts to sound less like an accident and more like he’s got a thing for you.”

you laughed, covering your face with your hands. “oh my god, don’t say that! i can’t even handle it. and he’s just… so close all the time. it’s like every time i turn around, he’s there.”

“that sounds terrible,” she said, rolling her eyes in mock sympathy. “a tall, ridiculously hot single dad, right up in your personal space. how are you surviving?”

you groaned, flopping back dramatically. “it’s not just that! i mean, megumi’s there too, and he’s the cutest kid. he loves me, shoko, i’m actually losing my mind. i feel like i’m part of their lives, and it’s… weirdly nice?”

shoko’s smirk softened a little, her gaze warmer. “sounds like you’re finally finding something real,” she murmured, her voice thoughtful. “i mean, not just with toji, but… you know, with people. gojo insisted you needed someone to keep you on track, but honestly, it sounds like you’re just finding your own way.”

“thank you for not thinking i’m insane,” you muttered, grinning at her.

“please, i’ve been waiting for something juicy like this to pop up in your life,” she replied, flicking some ash into an ashtray with a smirk. “so tell me everything — i want the full rundown on these ‘accidental’ kisses.”

you launched into the details, recounting the flustered stammering, the way you could hardly breathe when he got that close, how you felt like you were in some kind of slow-motion rom-com. shoko didn’t bat an eye, laughing in all the right places, raising her eyebrows at the moments you whispered, and shaking her head whenever you sounded downright ridiculous.

“y’know,” she finally said as you caught your breath, “if this is what being your manager is gonna be like, i might just be here for it. international author and all,” she teased, quoting gojo.

“i’m just glad i have someone who gets it,” you admitted, voice softer. “this is all new to me… the book success, this... love life thing.”

she gave you a small, knowing smile. “well, get used to it. sounds like there’s a lot more coming your way.”

the month flew by in a series of stolen moments that made you feel like you were the protagonist in one of your own novels. 

and, true to his nature, toji somehow managed to sneak in a kiss (or two, or three, but who's counting?) whenever he found you alone at the studio, away from gojo's incessant commentary, the other voice actors, and the wandering eyes of your new manager, shoko ieiri.

you still couldn’t forget that first almost subtle kiss, right outside the recording booth. 

you’d just handed him his revised lines, trying to ignore the way his fingers brushed against yours as he took the pages.

“y’know, you keep handing me all these steamy lines,” he murmured, voice dropping, his mouth way too close to your ear. “someone might think you’re just giving me an excuse.”

“i-it’s for the story,” you stammered, and before you could process it, he leaned down, catching you in a quick, teasing kiss.

“mm. very convincing.” he smirked, straightening just as someone walked by.

“toji!” you hissed, glancing around like a guilty teenager.

“what? i thought it’d help with the performance.” he gave you a half-shrug, that lazy grin of his making your pulse jump. “gotta sell the romance, right?”

then there was the time in the elevator after one of his late recording sessions. you’d been babbling about something mundane, trying to fill the quiet, but he wasn’t paying attention to your words; instead, he just watched your mouth. 

before you knew it, the doors slid closed, and he had you pressed against the mirrored wall, his mouth on yours, hands braced on either side of your head.

“you know,” you whispered breathlessly when you finally broke apart, “if shoko sees us, she’s gonna kill me.”

“good thing we’re alone then,” he murmured, not bothering to step back, his eyes dropping to your lips. “wouldn’t want her thinking you’re getting… distracted on the job.”

“me?” you managed, swallowing a laugh. “you’re the one who can’t keep his hands to himself!”

“maybe i’ll try harder,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your jaw in a way that felt anything but apologetic. “or maybe i won’t.”

of course, he didn’t. 

the next week, you’d been huddled over a script in the empty break room, reviewing edits from gojo. you barely heard him come in before he slipped up behind you, one hand casually planted on the table as he leaned over your shoulder.

“need any help with those lines?” he asked, voice low, right against your ear.

you barely suppressed a shiver, trying to focus on the paper in your hands. “i, uh… no. no, i think i’ve got it.”

“you sure?” he murmured, lips grazing your ear this time. “because i think i could add a little… flair.”

you turned, and his face was right there, too close to pretend this was anything but what it was. 

before you could tell him off, he closed the gap, kissing you slow and deep, like he had all the time in the world.

“toji,” you finally managed, pulling away, your face burning. “we are at work!”

he shrugged, utterly unbothered. “yeah, but no one’s around, are they?”

you glared, trying to look serious, but he just leaned back, smirking. “besides, i’d say that counts as research.”

“research?”

he grinned, eyes twinkling with a playful light. “gotta stay in character, right?”

every encounter was a tug-of-war between professionalism and… whatever this was. you couldn’t deny you looked forward to the thrill of these secret kisses, even though you spent half your day looking over your shoulder, waiting for shoko to round a corner and catch you in the act.

toji, on the other hand, was infuriatingly nonchalant. like he didn’t care if anyone saw — like he almost wanted to be caught. and he never missed an opportunity to remind you of that.

“so, what’ll it be?” he asked one afternoon as you tried to dodge his latest attempt in the hallway. “you gonna keep hiding from me? or are you finally gonna admit you like it?”

“i’m not hiding,” you replied, trying to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks.

he laughed softly, the sound low and warm. “you’re a terrible liar.”

just then, footsteps echoed from around the corner. you froze, but toji just gave you one last teasing look and walked off, as if nothing had happened.

and maybe that was the worst part — no matter how many times he pulled you in, kissed you breathless, he could just walk away, leaving you wondering if you’d imagined it all.

toji fushiguro, love-struck fool of the century. 

and he hated it. 

he’d scoffed his way through plenty of rom-coms, rolling his eyes at any lovesick protagonist with that stupid, half-dazed smile, lips still parted like they’d just been kissed breathless. 

he never thought he’d be one of them. yet here he was, pacing around his apartment, occasionally touching his lips like some starry-eyed teenager.

“you’re acting like a damn idiot,” he muttered to himself, brushing a hand through his hair, but even that couldn’t erase the lovesick grin creeping onto his face. he barely noticed his phone buzzing with the weekly roster of sugar mamas and daddies, all waiting for their weekly breadcrumb texts from him. hell, he even felt guilty about it now. 

because compared to you? they didn’t stand a chance.

case in point: a text popped up from mona, the one who liked to send him extravagant gifts just for existing.

mona [7:40 pm]: missed u this week. dinner on friday, baby?

toji squinted at the message, thumb hovering over the keyboard, debating if he should even respond. yeah, he probably should. he sighed, cracking his knuckles before halfheartedly typing out a response.

you [7:45 pm]: kinda busy friday. rain check?

there. short and sweet. 

in a past life, he would’ve at least flirted his way out of it. 

but now? he couldn’t muster up anything more. 

god, you’ve got it bad, he thought, half-annoyed at himself as he imagined the smirk gojo would throw his way if he ever found out about this pathetic show of loyalty.

and speaking of the devil —

“toooji!” gojo sang as he slid into the studio the next day, obnoxiously loud.

“man, you’ve been… awfully serious lately. not a single call from mona? or was it alicia? both?”

toji barely glanced up, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible. “i’ve been busy. work.”

“work,” gojo echoed, eyes narrowing with a knowing gleam. “right. and what kind of work are we talking about? the kind that comes with a certain… author’s name attached?”

toji’s lip twitched, but he ignored him. he figured the less he reacted, the less ammo gojo would have.

“oh, come on!” gojo crowed, leaning over the soundboard with an irritating grin. “you really think i haven’t noticed? the lingering looks, the way you sneak off for like ten minutes every time she’s around. you’re a mess, toji.”

toji rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. “i’m not a damn kid, satoru.”

“coulda fooled me,” gojo teased. “god, you look like you’re on the verge of a love confession every time i see you two. why not just go full rom-com mode and declare it in the rain or something?”

“shut your damn mouth,” toji muttered, feeling his ears heat. 

the idea had crossed his mind. he thought about it every damn time he saw you smile or catch his eye across the studio. 

and it was driving him insane.

“speaking of confessions,” gojo continued, not missing a beat, “heard you’ve been turning down… basically everyone these days. sugar mamas, sugar daddies — wow, your self-control’s really kicked in.”

toji groaned, half in frustration, half in something else. it was true. he hadn’t even looked at his inbox in days. 

just not interested, he’d told himself, ignoring how pathetic that sounded.

“oh, oh, oh, don’t tell me…” gojo grinned, the realization dawning on his face. “you’ve gone monogamous, haven’t you?” he snorted. 

“god, you’re whipped.”

“i’ll let you live if you shut up now.”

gojo snickered, unbothered. “what? i’m just giving you some friendly advice, toji. tell her already. do the whole romantic declaration thing. maybe some roses. oh, or better yet, just kiss her the way you keep fantasizing about.”

toji rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “fantasizing, right.”

“admit it, you’re lovesick,” gojo replied with a smirk. “how’s that feel, big guy?”

just then, his phone buzzed again, and he glanced down to see a new message from larry, one of his sugar daddies.

larry: fancy a weekend trip? all expenses on me, baby ;)

toji groaned and quickly sent back a “no thanks, busy,” before slipping his phone away. he looked up to find gojo staring at him, practically vibrating with amusement.

“see? whipped!” gojo announced, loud enough for half the floor to hear.

“keep it down,” toji growled, but he couldn’t keep the ghost of a smile off his face. he knew gojo was right, even if he hated admitting it. he was done pretending it wasn’t true. 

hell, he could barely go an hour without wanting to text you, wanting to see you.

“you don’t get it,” toji said, more to himself than gojo. “she’s… different.”

“oh, i bet she is,” gojo said, nodding like he understood. “now, are you gonna be an idiot and keep pouting like you’ve got something to say? or are you gonna tell her?”

toji didn’t answer, just glared at him before heading for the studio door. but he knew gojo was right. 

he’d run out of excuses, out of distractions. maybe it was time he did something about this ridiculous crush.

as he walked out, he could practically hear gojo’s smirk follow him. 

great.

toji could barely keep his heart from jumping out of his chest as he slipped the little origami ring into your hand, all smooth-like, muttering, “megumi made it for you.” 

but even as he said it, he could feel the heat creeping up his neck, knowing damn well it was mostly his work.

he’d sat down with megumi, who, after a long day of being “helpful,” had finally agreed to show him how to fold paper into something that resembled a ring. and it hadn’t exactly been easy.

“so, kiddo,” toji had started, fidgeting with the corner of a bright blue square of paper. “think you can show me how to, uh… fold this thing into a ring? for… you know… someone.”

megumi squinted up at him, hands on his hips like a pint-sized supervisor. “for her, right?”

toji cleared his throat, looking away. “yeah. something like that.”

megumi snorted, already getting a bit too wise for his age. “you don’t even know how to fold paper, daddy?”

toji groaned. “it’s harder than it looks, alright? just show me how you do it.”

the kid just shook his head, exasperated, but started showing him each fold with careful, precise fingers. they worked through a couple attempts, most of which looked nothing like rings and ended up in the growing pile of crumpled paper on the table. 

it was late, and toji couldn’t remember the last time he’d concentrated this hard on something so… simple. why the hell am i doing this? he thought, glancing at the clock. 

he had work in a few hours, a whole recording schedule to plan for, and yet here he was, folding paper with his son.

“think she’ll like it?” toji asked, holding up one of the finished attempts.

megumi shrugged, but he looked oddly serious as he studied the makeshift ring. “i think she will. ‘cause it’s from you.”

something in toji’s chest squeezed at that, and he clapped a hand on megumi’s shoulder. “don’t go telling anyone about this, alright? not even your uncle gojo. especially not him.”

“why?” megumi asked, genuinely curious.

“because he’ll never let me hear the end of it,” toji muttered, trying to ignore how ridiculous he sounded even to himself. 

yeah, making a paper ring at one in the morning for someone? absolutely insane, but he couldn’t shake the thrill of it, of imagining you smiling when he handed it over.

so, fast-forward to now: the ring was in your hand, your fingers slowly unfolding to reveal it. you glanced up at him, eyes soft with a mix of confusion and surprise, and damn if he didn’t feel his heart do a backflip right then and there.

“he… made this for me?” you asked, voice quiet, almost disbelieving.

“yeah,” toji replied, trying to sound casual but failing spectacularly. “thought you’d like it.” 

he rubbed the back of his neck, fighting the urge to look anywhere but at you, but he couldn’t resist sneaking a glance at your reaction.

you turned the ring over in your hand, a small smile tugging at your lips. “you sure it was megumi who made this?”

his throat went dry. “uh… mostly,” he admitted, feeling that warmth creeping up his neck again. “i might’ve… helped a little.”

“a little, huh?” you teased, eyes sparkling as you slipped the ring onto your finger. “so, is this, like… an official thing now? sealing the deal or whatever?”

toji felt his mouth go dry, a mixture of nerves and excitement coursing through him. 

he hadn’t planned on this meaning anything official — well, maybe he had, but he hadn’t exactly thought it through. 

yet seeing you wearing it, even if it was just a silly piece of folded paper, felt… right.

he shrugged, trying to keep his voice steady. “just thought you deserved somethin’ nice,” he said gruffly. “even if it’s… you know, paper.”

your fingers brushed his, a soft, barely-there touch, and he swore his heart skipped a beat. “i think it’s perfect, toji. no one’s ever… done something like this for me before.”

he felt his chest tighten, the weight of everything he wanted to say pressing against his ribcage. 

all those dumb, sappy things he’d been feeling lately, the way he couldn’t stop thinking about you, the way he felt like a lovesick idiot every time you smiled at him. but he couldn’t bring himself to say any of it, not yet. 

so instead, he settled for squeezing your hand, his thumb tracing a soft circle over your knuckles.

“good,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “’cause i don’t think i could stand it if you didn’t like it.”

you laughed softly, leaning into him, and he swore he felt the world narrow down to just the two of you, the faint rustle of the paper ring against your finger.

“guess i’ll have to keep it safe then, huh?” you murmured, looking up at him with that smile that made his heart do all kinds of dumb things.

“yeah,” he replied, voice low, unable to stop himself from leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “yeah, you do.”

toji’s eyes nearly pop out of his head when he spots you at the office, that damn paper ring dangling from your phone charm. his paper ring — okay, technically megumi’s paper ring, but still, the one he’d folded with his own hands. he’d thought you might just tuck it away in a drawer or something. 

but here you were, letting it swing around proudly like some priceless gem. he’s not gonna lie — his heart just about catapults itself out of his chest.

he’s doing his best to keep his cool, but the urge to grab you right then and there, haul you over to a quiet corner, and ask you out on a real date feels stronger than ever. propose even. 

god, if he wasn’t too far gone already.

“what’s that little add-on?” gojo’s smug voice cuts through the air, and you laugh, holding up your phone so the charm dangles freely. gojo squints, pretending he’s inspecting it, but there’s a glint in his eye. “who’s the secret admirer, huh? must be a serious romantic to give you something… hand-crafted.”

you shrug, grinning a little too wide. “oh, just… something someone special made for me.”

toji’s face heats up, and he tries to look busy adjusting his microphone levels. 

dammit, did you have to say it like that? he catches gojo’s gaze lingering on him, eyebrows raised. 

oh, he’s got an idea all right.

“hm, special someone?” gojo teases, nudging you, then pretending to look around the room as if your admirer might jump out from behind the studio wall. “wonder who that could be, huh?”

you shrug, pretending like it’s nothing, though you shoot a sly glance in toji’s direction. “maybe he’ll make a move someday. he’s pretty bold but… you know, takes his time.”

toji’s pulse hammers away like a damn drumline, and he clears his throat, trying to sound nonchalant. “yeah, maybe he’s just… tryin’ to find the right time or somethin’.”

“aww,” gojo coos, looking between you and toji with a mischievous smile. “poor guy. wonder if he knows he’s got competition. think he can handle it?”

toji rolls his eyes, shooting gojo a glare. “ain’t nobody competin’,” he says, voice low but firm. “whoever this guy is… he’s got it handled.”

you laugh softly, the sound filling the room, and you hold up the charm, letting it dangle right in front of him as if it’s some sort of challenge. “think he’s ready to seal the deal?”

toji’s gaze flickers to the paper ring, then to you, and suddenly he feels this overwhelming urge to just… go for it. 

he could give you a real ring, sure, someday maybe, but there’s something about this little thing you’ve turned into a charm that makes it feel so much… bigger.

“actually…” he mutters, feeling heat crawl up his neck. “i was thinkin’… maybe i could take you out this weekend. just us.” he looks at you, eyes intent, and there’s a rare seriousness in his voice. “someplace nice. no studio, no interruptions.”

you blink, clearly a bit surprised, but your smile grows, softer now, almost shy. 

“are you asking me out, toji?”

he shrugs, feigning nonchalance but failing miserably. “yeah. maybe… maybe i am.” he reaches out, tugging the charm lightly, letting it dangle between you. “figured it was about time we took this thing seriously.”

gojo bursts into laughter, clapping his hands. “ohhh, i knew it! all this sneaking around, and here you are, finally getting down on one knee — metaphorically, of course.”

you nudge gojo, laughing. “shut it, satoru.”

but toji doesn’t even hear gojo’s teasing anymore. all he sees is you, with that damn paper ring swinging from your phone, smiling at him in a way that makes his chest feel tight. 

and suddenly, the idea of getting down on one knee doesn’t seem all that far-fetched after all.

“so… this weekend?” he asks, his voice a little softer now, just for you.

you nod, still beaming. “this weekend,” you confirm.

toji, scrolling through your message with a slight frown, reads your rain check about having to edit your book draft instead of going out this weekend. 

he's in the middle of what can only be called a hurricane of preparation — megumi is zipping around the house, declaring he’ll help his dad look “very handsome” for his “playdate with the pretty lady.” in the midst of this, toji can’t even get a word in to explain that, uh, the plans may be changing.

princess [7:08 pm]: hey! i am SO sorry, but i may have to rain check today. i really thought i’d finish up the first draft of the dragon king’s sequel. but i got so behind, and now i have to edit this whole thing </3 you [7:09 pm]: can’t believe my competition is a bunch of words on a page, but…i get it.  you [7:09 pm]: any chance you could still use some company for that “editing?”

he’s barely finished typing his message when megumi tugs at his shirt, holding up a navy button-down that practically drags on the floor.

“isn’t this the one she likes, dad? wear this!” he says with a look that might as well be called “fushiguro persuasion.” toji chuckles, ruffling megumi’s hair.

“hey, buddy,” he says, crouching down to megumi’s level. “plans changed a little. she’s gotta work, so i’m going over there instead, alright?”

megumi narrows his eyes in the way only an eight-year-old can. “so... no fancy date?”

“nah, kid,” toji says, trying to sound casual as he rolls up his sleeves. “i’m just gonna keep her company while she works.”

megumi grins, a mischievous glint in his eye. “so like, a home date?” he asks, with all the implications an eight-year-old can muster.

toji chuckles, ruffling his son’s hair. “something like that.” he gives megumi a quick fist bump. “hold down the fort for me, alright? i’ll be back before bedtime.”

and with that, he heads out, his heart pounding just a little too fast for his own liking. he’s ready to face you with a low-key offer: if you’ll allow it, he’ll stay in for a “working date” and keep you company, just the two of you, with no plans other than being there.

toji ^.^ [7:15 pm]: well, what if the mountain comes to you instead of you coming to the mountain? i’ll bring snacks and stay out of your way. i’ll even help you proofread if you need it.

your heart nearly stops when you see toji’s message, and you almost drop your phone… straight into your bowl of instant noodles. 

he wants to come over? to your place? 

you glance around your apartment, and it’s a scene straight out of a disaster movie.

there’s a pile of bills stacked haphazardly on the coffee table, all of which you’re waiting for shoko to graciously come sort through for you. right next to it is a mountain of pr packages you haven’t had a chance to open — typewriters from some luxury brand, fountain pens with gold-tipped nibs, notebooks wrapped in satin, and… is that your favorite set of lingerie drying on top of the lampshade?

“oh, god.”

you glance at the time and frantically calculate: how long would it take to clear at least half of this mess? 

no, scratch that. how long would it take to get yourself presentable? you rush to your room, tossing things left and right in an attempt to find something clean and comfortable, feeling your face heat up just imagining toji seeing your place like this.

you [7:17 pm]: are you sure you wanna come over? i’m warning you. it’s, uh, very lived-in here. toji ^.^ [7:20 pm]: hey, i’m not gonna judge. besides, how bad can it be?

you stare at his reply, chewing on your lip, and quickly text back.

you [7:21 pm]: imagine a tornado hit a bookstore you [7:21 pm]: and a clothing store you [7:21 pm]: and, maybe a warehouse full of typewriters and fountain pens. toji ^.^ [7:23 pm]: you know what? sounds cozy. i’ll bring some snacks and maybe a cleaning crew if necessary 😂

the doorbell rings before you could even realise, and your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. 

you’ve got a solid three seconds to take it all in: you’re wearing a three-day-old shirt that, if you recall correctly, was originally your dad’s from the 80s, your hair’s in a bun so messy it might as well be a bird’s nest, and there are bags of trash you’ve hastily crammed into every drawer within reach.

there’s no hiding the pile of unopened pr packages by the couch, though — one of which has a half-torn label boasting a “vintage, limited-edition typewriter experience.” right next to that, there’s a fancy pen set, still in its plastic wrap, resting on top of… is that a stack of half-eaten takeout containers? 

oh, god. why couldn’t you have had a warning before he showed up?

you take a shaky breath and yank the door open, plastering a smile on your face as if this is all completely normal.

"hey," toji says, looking you up and down with an easy grin. “lookin’ cozy.”

“uh... thanks?” you blurt out, mentally slapping yourself. cozy was definitely one way to put it. 

“come on in. sorry about the… ambiance. i wasn’t really expecting to have a, uh, guest.”

you step back, and he strides in, immediately taking in the organized chaos that is your apartment. his eyes linger on the tower of pr boxes and that unmistakable stack of overdue bills. he whistles low under his breath, clearly trying not to laugh.

"so, this is the writer life, huh?" he asks, picking up a typewriter package with a raised eyebrow. "fancy stuff. do you, uh… actually use any of this?”

“i try,” you mumble, crossing your arms defensively, though you can’t help smiling. “but the whole ‘starving artist’ vibe means these typewriters just end up as very expensive paperweights. which, ironically, i can’t even afford.”

toji laughs, setting the box down before glancing around again. his gaze falls on the lampshade, where your black lace lingerie is very prominently draped. you feel your face go hot as he smirks.

“i like the decor,” he says, nodding toward the lingerie with a wicked grin.

“oh, my god,” you groan, covering your face. “listen, i was not expecting company today, so please, feel free to avert your eyes.”

"nah, i think it's got… character," he teases, leaning in just a little too close. “besides, i don’t mind a little mess.”

"well, great, because this is as real as it gets," you reply, huffing as you try to look anywhere but at him. "you’re in the trenches now, toji.”

he chuckles, moving to pick up a crumpled, half-empty bag of chips from the couch. "hey, trenches i can handle. i’ve got an eight-year-old at home, remember? my place is an organized war zone on a good day."

you snort, still feeling a bit mortified. “and here i was thinking i could at least fake having my life together in front of you.”

“oh, please,” he says, brushing a stray hair from your cheek. “you should’ve seen me back in college. this? this is nothing. plus,” he adds, his voice dropping slightly, “it’s kind of… cute.”

cute. did he actually just call your disaster zone cute?

before you can respond, he grabs one of the unopened PR boxes and raises an eyebrow. “so, what’s in this one? wanna have an impromptu unboxing?”

“toji, i swear if you open that —”

“c’mon,” he says, grinning as he peels the tape back. “think of it as the highlight of our first ‘official’ homebody date.”

you shake your head, both amused and exasperated, watching him fish out an overly ornate fountain pen, which he holds up like it’s the holy grail.

“look at this thing,” he says, turning it over with a smirk. “you could probably sign million-dollar deals with this alone.”

“or, you know, sign off on all my overdue bills.” you laugh, unable to stay embarrassed. “go on, add it to the pile. it’s practically a landfill at this point.”

he laughs, setting the pen down and stepping closer, his voice low. “listen, i get it. my place might not have bills stacked up, but it’s full of… reminders that i’m a work in progress too.”

you glance up at him, and suddenly, all the embarrassment melts away. you’re in your messy apartment, standing in an ancient t-shirt with this man who’s managed to turn your chaotic night into something unexpectedly comforting.

"thanks for not… judging," you say softly, feeling yourself relax for the first time since he walked in. “i know i’m not exactly put together, but —”

“hey.” he cups your face with a gentle smile. “don’t worry about it. you’re perfect like this. messy, comfy, real.”

before you can stop yourself, you lean in, and he meets you halfway, his lips brushing softly against yours. it’s not hurried, not desperate. just… perfect.

it hits you about a second too late — you’re kissing toji in the middle of your apartment, clutching a bag of trash. oh god, and it reeks of stale mountain dew and monster. 

classy.

you pull back with a mortified look, though toji’s face is the exact opposite, his smirk spreading like he’s just unlocked a secret treasure.

“don’t stop now,” he murmurs, glancing down at the offending trash bag in your hand. “but, uh… maybe lose that first?”

“yeah, i think we’re past the first-date mystique at this point,” you mutter, feeling your face heat up as you chuck the bag towards the corner, praying it’s out of sight enough to ignore.

“oh, yeah, you’re really blowing my mind here,” he teases, chuckling as he takes in the apartment around you. “all the caffeine fumes, that questionable takeout smell. smells like home already.”

“oh, shut up,” you laugh, covering your face, because this man is about two seconds from making you combust. “i’m surprised you even wanted to stay for dinner after walking into this disaster.”

“well,” he says, trying and failing to look innocent, “you haven’t seen the other disaster i brought.”

you raise an eyebrow as he gestures to the counter, where multiple takeout bags are somehow all stacked up.

“toji, what is all this?” you blink, shuffling over to the spread.

“look,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “i couldn’t decide what you’d like, so i just… went with options.”

options is a gross understatement. 

there’s a bag from the local thai place with an array of curries and pad see ew, another filled with boxes of sushi, and an entire tray of tacos, complete with mini bottles of hot sauce. you spot a large pizza box (of course), and is that… baklava?

“uh, toji? are we feeding a small country tonight?” you laugh, bewildered. “what were you thinking?”

“honestly? wasn’t thinking. just grabbed whatever looked good,” he says, giving you a sheepish grin. “but c’mon, if you don’t like one thing, there’s a million others.”

you give him a look, half-amused, half-exasperated, but it’s endearing in a way only toji could pull off. who even does this?

“i mean, don’t get me wrong,” you say, nudging a pizza box to make space for the taco tray, “i’m glad you thought of all the options, but… what exactly were you planning for us to do with all this?”

he shrugs, coming up beside you to open one of the sushi boxes. “eat as much as we want, throw the rest in the fridge. ‘course, that’s only if you’re not gonna make me eat it all myself.”

you snort, imagining him single-handedly tackling all of it. “if you can handle it, be my guest.”

he leans in close, voice dropping to a rough whisper. “oh, i can handle it.”

you roll your eyes, but you’re grinning like an idiot. “god, you’re impossible.”

“hey, you invited me over,” he says, opening a little container of wasabi and gesturing for you to try a piece of sushi. 

“besides, i figured it’s a good way to cover all bases. what if you didn’t like tacos? or pizza? or… god forbid, baklava?”

you can’t help laughing as you pop the sushi in your mouth, appreciating the deliciously over-the-top effort he put into this. “for the record, i love all of it. but you, on the other hand, have a questionable appetite if you thought this much food for two people was necessary.”

“trust me, if this is what it takes to keep you happy, i’ll bring twice as much next time,” he says, dead serious.

“oh no, please, i don’t think i can handle that.” you give him a look, incredulous. “i’ll end up eating myself into a food coma, and then what? you gonna carry me to bed?”

“well,” he says, leaning in again with a devilish grin, “i wouldn’t mind. but i was thinkin’ more along the lines of a movie marathon to work off the calories.”

“movie marathon and food coma?” you raise an eyebrow. “toji, you’re dangerously close to making this a slumber party.”

he shrugs, his face playful but there’s something softer in his eyes. “would that be the worst thing?”

you feel a flutter in your chest, something that almost surprises you with how much it settles you. here he is, surrounded by mountains of takeout and your chaotic apartment mess, looking like this is exactly where he wants to be. 

it’s… kinda nice.

“alright,” you say, nudging him with your elbow. “you win. let’s have the weirdest, most food-filled homebody date ever. just, uh, ignore the mess. and don’t laugh at me if i pass out halfway through a movie.”

“promise.” he raises a hand, eyes glinting with humor. “cross my heart.”

the two of you start to dig in, laughing as you make jokes about how this is probably the strangest spread of food you’ve ever seen. every now and then, he’ll steal a quick kiss when he thinks he can get away with it, and you’re reminded just how much this man has wormed his way under your skin.

you’ve got no idea where this is going, but, staring at his smirk as he attempts to down an entire taco in one bite, you kinda hope it’s somewhere good.

the two of you stand side by side at the sink, the remnants of your feast sprawled across the counter. you’re scrubbing a particularly stubborn pan when you decide it’s the perfect time to hand toji the aux.

“alright, mister fancy chef,” you say, smirking as you pass him your phone. “you get to choose the soundtrack for our post-dinner clean-up. no pressure.”

“oh, no pressure at all,” he deadpans, scrolling through your playlist. you catch a glimpse of the mischievous grin creeping onto his face as he lands on an old favorite.

the unmistakable intro of dancing queen by abba fills the kitchen, and your mouth drops open in disbelief. 

“seriously? this? right now?” you laugh, a mix of amusement and embarrassment bubbling inside you.

“hey, don’t knock it till you try it!” he shoots back, raising his hands as if to defend his choice. “it’s a classic. plus, it takes me back to that night at the bar when you were all... well, you.”

you roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face. “i was a mess.”

“yeah, but you were a cute mess.” he chuckles, and you feel the heat rise in your cheeks at the compliment.

as the upbeat tune plays on, you both start washing the dishes, swaying your hips to the rhythm. 

“you can dance, you can jive…” the lyrics echo through the air, and toji’s energy pulls you in. 

you catch him glancing at you with that smirk again, and the way his eyes light up makes your stomach flutter.

“just imagine,” he says, a teasing glint in his eye, “the two of us back at that bar. you, all over the place, and me just trying to figure out how to survive the night.”

you laugh, feeling nostalgic. “yeah, and then i somehow managed to puke all over your shoes.”

“my favorite shoes,” he says dramatically, rolling his eyes, but there’s a playful warmth in his tone. “but, honestly? worth it.”

the song builds, and you’re both lost in the moment, laughter and soap suds flying everywhere.

“see that girl, watch that scene…”

“how did we go from that night to this?” you ponder aloud, glancing at him. “i mean, here we are, washing dishes and dancing to abba.”

“it’s an upgrade he says, giving you a lopsided grin. “you know, from drunken disasters to… kitchen romance.”

“romance?” you raise an eyebrow, challenging him.

“oh, come on,” he says, stepping closer, the teasing slipping away from his tone. “there’s definitely something romantic about this. a pair of idiots like us, sharing this weird, beautiful mess.”

you can’t help but blush, your heart racing as you take in the way his gaze lingers on your lips. “digging the dancing queen…”

“you know, if this song gets stuck in my head, i’m blaming you,” you quip, trying to deflect the intensity of the moment.

“good luck with that,” he chuckles, moving even closer, the space between you almost nonexistent now. 

“night is young and the music’s high…”

his fingers brush against yours, the innocent touch sending sparks up your arm. the beat continues, your breaths getting heavier as the song builds up to the chorus. 

“dancing queen, feel the beat of the tambourine…”

you’re both staring at each other, and suddenly, the kitchen feels too small, too charged with the electricity of the moment.

“toji…” you start, but the words die on your lips as he leans in, his intent clear.

“just one kiss,” he murmurs, the corner of his mouth lifting in a seductive smile. “for old time’s sake.”

before you can reply, he closes the gap, his lips capturing yours with a gentle yet insistent pressure. 

it’s like a scene from a movie — the soft warmth of his mouth against yours, the playful scent of the takeout wafting around you, the soft glow of the kitchen light illuminating his features.

you melt into him, heart racing as you kiss him back, losing yourself in the moment. the lyrics of the song seem to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you — the world outside disappearing entirely. 

when you finally pull away, both of you breathless, there’s a glint of something deeper in his eyes. 

“wow,” he breathes, still holding your gaze. “i think i like this new tradition.”

you chuckle, still buzzing from the kiss. “yeah, who knew washing dishes could be so… eventful?”

“well,” he says, leaning in closer again, voice low and teasing, “we haven’t even finished the song yet. you ready for round two?”

you’re half-dazed, your heart racing as you sit on the kitchen counter, toji’s arms caging you in, keeping you close. dancing queen continues to play in the background, but all you can focus on is the warmth radiating from him and the way his breath mingles with yours.

“you have got to stop making these kisses a regular thing,” you tease, half-heartedly trying to sound serious, but the playful glint in your eyes gives you away.

“especially when i’m propped up on my kitchen counter like this,” you add, trying to maintain some semblance of decorum, but you can’t help but smile as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer.

“liar,” he laughs, a low rumble that sends a thrill through you. “if you didn’t like it, you would have pushed me away, not this.” he gestures to your legs around him, grinning like the cat that got the cream.

you roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the warmth spreading through your cheeks. “okay, fine. maybe i’m a little into it,” you admit, and his grin widens, satisfaction dancing in his eyes.

“a little?” he echoes, raising an eyebrow, his hands tightening around your waist. “you’re a whole lot more than a little, and you know it.”

the cheeky banter flows easily between you, and as you gaze into his eyes, you realize just how much you’ve come to enjoy this — the closeness, the warmth, the undeniable chemistry crackling in the air.

“you know, it’s a bit unfair,” you say, tilting your head back slightly to meet his gaze. “here i’m trying to be responsible and not let you distract me, and yet…” you trail off, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt.

“and yet,” he finishes, leaning in slightly, his breath warm against your skin. “here i am, being irresistible.”

“definitely not irresistible,” you say, feigning indignation. but the way your heart races gives you away again.

“oh, come on,” he smirks, tilting his head slightly. “who else do you know can kiss you while washing dishes?”

you laugh, shaking your head, and the movement sends a wave of giddiness through both of you. “you might be right about that one,” you concede, biting your lip.

the song transitions into another upbeat section, and toji shifts his weight slightly, nudging your legs apart just enough to step closer, creating a tighter cocoon of warmth between you. 

“so, what now?” he asks, his voice dropping an octave, the playful tone replaced with something more serious, more intimate.

“what now?” you echo, feeling the tension shift slightly, the air thick with possibilities. “we could, um… finish washing dishes?”

“how boring,” he murmurs, and before you can say anything else, he dips his head down, capturing your lips again in a slow, lingering kiss that makes your head spin.

this kiss is different — softer, more explorative, as if he’s savoring the moment, the taste of you lingering on his lips. you respond eagerly, forgetting all about the dishes, the mess, everything else fading away until it’s just the two of you.

when you finally break apart, breathless, he grins down at you, that charming smirk making your heart flutter. “that’s what i’m talking about,” he says, a satisfied gleam in his eyes.

“toji, we really should —”

“don’t say it,” he interrupts, shaking his head with an exaggerated look of horror. 

“don’t ruin the moment with responsibility. just… let’s enjoy this.”

you can’t help but laugh again, the tension between you easing as you lean back against the countertop, your heart racing in a way that feels undeniably good.

“enjoying this, huh?” you murmur, running your fingers through your hair, still feeling the heat of his body against yours.

“yeah,” he replies, that charming smile still plastered on his face. “just two people enjoying a perfectly normal evening — you know, singing abba, eating takeout, and making out in your messy kitchen.”

“the most normal thing ever,” you agree, rolling your eyes, but you can’t suppress the smile that breaks across your face.

“so,” he says, tilting his head, his expression turning slightly more serious. “how about we make this a regular thing? you know, minus the messy kitchen. maybe my place next time?”

your heart skips a beat at the suggestion, and you find yourself nodding before you can think twice. “yeah, i’d like that.”

“great,” he says, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “but for now, let’s get back to the dishes, dancing queen.”

“fine, but only if you promise to keep playing abba,” you reply, giving him a mock-serious look.

“deal,” he chuckles, and as you both start scrubbing the remaining dishes, the music playing softly in the background, you realize you wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.

toji walks into his house, the dopey grin plastered across his face like he just won the lottery. 

his heart feels light, still buzzing from the night with you, and he’s practically floating as he kicks off his shoes and heads to the living room. 

he stops dead in his tracks when he sees gojo sprawled on the couch, a half-empty bottle of whiskey in one hand and a look of sheer mischief on his face.

“what the hell are you doing here?” toji asks, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably as he can’t help but grin back.

gojo lifts the bottle in a mock toast. “just your friendly neighborhood babysitter, here to keep an eye on megumi,” he says, glancing over to where megumi is sound asleep, sprawled on the floor with a gaming console still clutched in his tiny hands. “figured i’d check out your bar situation while i was at it.” he gestures to the empty bottles lined up on the table. “you know, for quality control.”

toji rolls his eyes but can’t suppress the chuckle escaping his lips. “you’re a real piece of work, you know that?” he says, moving closer.

gojo leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, a grin spreading across his face as he studies toji’s expression. “but seriously, you look like you just got off cloud nine. spill. what happened?”

toji’s grin widens even more, and he can’t help but let out a little giggle, feeling giddy. “you’re not gonna believe this,” he starts, plopping down on the couch next to gojo, who leans in closer, eager for the details. 

“it was… well, it was amazing.”

“amazing? now you’re really making me curious!” gojo presses, his eyes sparkling with interest. “tell me everything! every little detail!”

toji glances back towards the sleeping megumi, suddenly feeling a bit shy about sharing all the intimate details. “okay, okay. so, we were just supposed to have dinner, but it turned into this whole thing.”

“dinner? boooring. give me the juicy stuff!” gojo teases, waving his hand dramatically. “i want the scandalous details! were there kisses involved?”

toji feels his cheeks flush, and he can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous this all feels. “yeah, there were some kisses… and then we ended up washing dishes together, and somehow —”

“washing dishes? how romantic!” gojo interrupts, dramatically placing a hand on his chest as if he’s been mortally wounded. “you’re a true romantic, toji.”

“shut up!” toji retorts, laughing harder now. “but it was nice, okay? we were just… comfortable with each other, you know? and then we ended up kissing while the song was playing.”

“which song? was it a love song? was it dancing queen?” gojo leans in closer, eyes wide with excitement. “tell me you two were blasting abba and getting all lovey-dovey!”

“yeah, actually!” toji can’t help but laugh again, the memory flooding back. “we were. it was so ridiculous, but it felt so right at that moment.”

“ridiculous how?” gojo presses, leaning back with a smirk. “were you two dancing around the kitchen like a couple of high-schoolers?”

“pretty much,” toji admits, a sheepish grin crossing his face. “i mean, it just happened, and i couldn’t help myself. i’ve never felt like this before.”

gojo raises an eyebrow, leaning back with a knowing smirk. “so, what you’re saying is that you’re head over heels for y/n? you’ve gone soft on us, toji.”

“yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” toji says, trying to sound annoyed but failing as he can’t help but feel giddy about it all. “but i think this is different. she makes me feel… i don’t know, like i’m actually living instead of just existing?”

gojo’s expression softens slightly, nodding in understanding. “that’s deep, man. i’m genuinely happy for you. but seriously, how did you go from makeouts to dinner to feelings so fast?”

“honestly? i have no idea,” toji shrugs, still riding that high. “but it just felt natural. like we were meant to do this.”

gojo is quiet for a moment, taking a swig from the bottle. 

“damn, it sounds like you really like her.”

“like? it’s more than that, i think,” toji admits, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “i’ve never let myself feel this way about anyone, and now i can’t stop smiling like an idiot.”

“good. you should let yourself feel,” gojo says, his tone lightening again. 

“just don’t forget you’re still my bro and not some mushy romantic lead in a romcom.”

toji snorts. “right, because i’m so good at playing it cool.”

“exactly,” gojo grins. “now, what’s the next step in this romance novel? are you going to take her out on an official date, or are you just going to keep sneaking kisses in her kitchen?”

toji thinks for a moment, that dopey grin returning. 

“i want to take her out. something special. not just a random dinner but a real date.”

“awww, look at you being all suave!” gojo teases, clapping him on the shoulder. “i’m actually proud of you, man. just don’t screw it up.”

“thanks for the vote of confidence,” toji rolls his eyes but can’t help but feel encouraged.

“now, let’s celebrate your new relationship status! i say we finish off the rest of these bottles and toast to your love life!” gojo suggests, already grabbing for another bottle.

toji chuckles, shaking his head. “you’re going to end up getting us both in trouble, you know that?”

“who cares? tonight’s all about you, my guy! let’s make some bad decisions!” gojo grins, and as toji laughs, the two of them settle in for a night of ridiculous stories and plans for the future — the dopey grin still plastered on toji’s face.

the day of the audiobook launch dawned bright and buzzing with excitement at gojo-sonic, and the atmosphere was electric. employees and investors milled about the sleek, modern venue, the air filled with chatter and the faint sound of clinking glasses. 

it was a low-key affair, but the anticipation crackled like static electricity in the air. you were among the few chosen to celebrate this moment, standing on the cusp of something big.

you had spent hours getting ready, and with shoko’s help, you looked stunning in your gown. it was a flowing number that hugged your curves just right, accentuating your figure while allowing you to move with grace. your hair was styled in soft waves, framing your face perfectly, and your makeup enhanced your features without overshadowing them. you caught glimpses of yourself in the reflective surfaces, a wave of pride swelling in your chest as you realized just how much effort went into this moment.

toji, on the other hand, was a mix of nervous energy and utter admiration. dressed sharply in a tailored suit, he felt a blend of pride and anxiety as he watched you mingle with the guests. but the moment his eyes landed on you in that gown, his body betrayed him. 

a rush of heat shot through him, and before he could even think, there it was — a very real, very embarrassing hard-on that he scrambled to cover up.

“shit, not now,” he muttered under his breath, cursing himself for being such a damn cliché. he quickly shifted his stance, pretending to adjust his tie as he tried to focus on anything other than the vision of you in front of him. 

like a decent man should, right?

“toji! you okay?” gojo’s voice cut through his thoughts, a smirk creeping across his face. he was leaning against the bar, a glass of something strong in hand, eyeing toji with amusement. “you look like you just saw a ghost.”

“i’m fine,” toji snapped a little too quickly, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. “just… adjusting my suit.” he gestured wildly, trying to deflect the attention away from his embarrassment.

“uh-huh. sure,” gojo replied, barely hiding his laughter. “just keep it together. we wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself in front of everyone, especially her.” he nodded subtly towards you, who were now laughing with suguru, your charm radiating like a warm glow.

toji shot him a glare, a mix of irritation and amusement battling for dominance on his face. “thanks for the reminder, genius.”

the event continued, and you were seamlessly blending into the crowd, engaging in conversations with stakeholders and employees, your confidence shining through. 

when you shared a laugh with suguru, toji couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at how effortlessly charming you were. why the hell can’t i just say something nice instead of standing here like an idiot?

“there she is,” toji mumbled to himself, catching a glimpse of you as you made your way to the makeshift stage for the speeches. he admired how you carried yourself with such poise, the way your eyes sparkled with excitement. and in that moment, he was utterly captivated.

as you stepped up to the microphone, a hush fell over the crowd. 

“thank you all for being here today,” you began, your voice steady and clear, filled with warmth. “this launch means so much to me, and i couldn’t have done it without all the support from my friends and family. especially from those at gojo-sonic, who believed in this project.”

toji watched you intently, his heart swelling with pride. this was your moment, and you were absolutely shining. 

but as you spoke, he felt that familiar urge to approach you, to wrap his arms around you and tell you just how incredible you looked. 

but no, he stood rooted to the spot, reminding himself of the conversation they had before about maintaining a professional facade.

“and of course, a huge thank you to my amazing voice actor, toji fushiguro,” you continued, and the crowd erupted into applause, pulling him back into reality. the sound sent another rush of heat through him, and he felt like he was about to explode — both from embarrassment and pride.

“that’s me,” toji muttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. gojo was right beside him, clapping exaggeratedly with a teasing grin. “you’re gonna have to give her a proper compliment after this, you know?”

“yeah, yeah,” toji grumbled, still flustered as he tried to focus on your words instead of his growing embarrassment.

when you finished your speech, the crowd cheered, and you stepped down, a satisfied smile on your face. 

you caught toji’s eye, and for a moment, the world faded away. he could see the joy radiating from you, and all his earlier doubts slipped away.

“toji!” you called out, your eyes sparkling. “what did you think?”

“you were amazing,” he said, finally finding the courage to step forward. “really. you owned that stage.”

“thank you,” you replied, your cheeks slightly flushed. “i was nervous, but it felt good to share this moment with everyone.”

as you spoke, toji’s heart raced. he leaned in closer, his voice lowering as he added, “and you looked absolutely stunning, too.”

“oh? just stunning?” you teased, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

“okay, maybe breathtaking,” he admitted, a genuine smile creeping onto his face. 

“and just so you know, i had a minor… situation back there, thanks to how beautiful you looked. so, you know, just keep that in mind.”

your laughter rang out, the sound warm and inviting, making toji forget all about the earlier embarrassment. he realized that whatever the two of you had going on was something he wanted to cherish, something worth pursuing.

and as the night continued, surrounded by the buzz of celebration, toji felt a sense of hope blooming in his chest — this was just the beginning.

as the excitement of the launch continued to swirl around you, suguru approached, a wide smile lighting up his face. 

“there you are! i was beginning to think i’d have to drag you out from behind that mic,” he teased, wrapping you in a warm hug.

“suguru! thanks for coming!” you beamed, feeling the familiar comfort of his presence. “it means a lot to me.”

“wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said, stepping back to take a look at you. “and wow, you look incredible. seriously, how do you pull off that look?”

gojo chimed in, practically bouncing on his heels. “it’s like she stepped out of a freaking fairytale, right? she’s basically a model now. i’m just a guy over here trying not to ruin the vibe.”

shoko smiled, her eyes soft as she observed the camaraderie. “you all did great tonight. it really was a wonderful launch.”

toji stood slightly apart from the group, hands shoved into his pockets, watching the dynamic unfold. he was proud of you and knew you deserved this moment, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of being on the outside. seeing you laugh and joke with suguru and gojo tugged at something deep inside him, a mix of admiration and protectiveness that made him feel a little more possessive than he expected.

“so, what’s next for you?” suguru asked, leaning in closer, his tone genuine. “another book, or are you taking a break?”

“a bit of both, actually,” you replied, glancing at toji. “i want to explore some new ideas, maybe branch out a little.”

just then, a lecherous-looking man stepped into the conversation, an air of arrogance radiating off him. 

“well, if it isn’t the famed author herself,” he sneered, a condescending smirk plastered on his face. “i have to say, it’s impressive how you’ve managed to carve out such a niche for yourself.” “free-use woman, is that what they call it? quite the career choice, huh?”

the moment the words left his mouth, the atmosphere shifted. toji's heart raced, a cold wave of irritation washing over him. he could feel his jaw clenching as he shifted his weight, bracing himself for whatever would come next. 

the man had no idea what he was stepping into.

gojo’s expression darkened, his casual demeanor evaporating. “who the hell do you think you are, talking to her like that?” he snapped, stepping in front of you protectively. “you’re clearly out of your depth.”

shoko frowned, her eyes narrowing at the man. “that’s incredibly disrespectful. you should apologize right now.”

suguru, leaning closer to you, was already assessing the situation, his gaze piercing. “it’s brave of you to come here and talk to her, but if you think you can just waltz in and make those kinds of comments, you’re sorely mistaken.”

toji felt a surge of possessiveness overtake him, and he stepped forward, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “listen, buddy, you don’t get to come here and treat her like she’s some sort of object. she’s worked hard for everything she has, and you’re just jealous that you’ll never get anywhere close to her level.”

the man scoffed, clearly unfazed, but the looks on the faces of gojo, shoko, and suguru sent a wave of intimidation over him. “oh, what? you’re one of her little fanboys now?” he mocked, trying to play off the tension.

“she’s not just some girl for your amusement,” toji replied, his voice low but full of intensity. “if you can’t see that, then you don’t deserve to be in the same room as her.”

you were taken aback, a mix of shock and warmth flooding your chest at toji’s fierce defense. it was a side of him you hadn’t seen in this context, and it made your heart race. you quickly interjected, trying to defuse the situation. 

“it’s okay, really. i don’t mind —”

“no,” suguru cut you off gently but firmly, glancing back at you with concern. “you shouldn’t have to put up with that kind of trash talk. you’re better than that, and we’re here for you.”

“yeah,” gojo added, his expression serious. “this guy doesn’t know who he’s messing with. just because you think you can get away with it doesn’t mean you should.” he turned to the man, a fire burning in his blue eyes. 

“i’d suggest you leave before things get ugly.”

the man’s bravado faltered, and he hesitated, clearly weighing his options. 

“whatever, man,” he spat, finally backing away, a look of disdain on his face. “i didn’t want to talk to you losers anyway.”

as he walked off, toji felt a wave of relief wash over him, but it was mingled with something else — something like pride for you and his friends, who had stood up for what was right. 

he turned to you, catching your eye. “you alright?”

you nodded, still processing what just happened. “yeah, thanks. i didn’t think he’d go that far.”

“he’s a fucking idiot,” toji replied, shaking his head. “you deserve better than that.”

“you all really stood up for me,” you said softly, feeling gratitude swell in your chest.

“of course we did,” shoko replied, her expression warm. “we’re your friends, and we’ll always have your back.”

toji stepped a bit closer, and for a moment, the noise of the event faded into the background. “just remember that,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “you’re not alone in this.”

and as the night continued, surrounded by friends who cared deeply for you, toji felt a sense of belonging that he hadn’t anticipated, realizing just how much he wanted to protect that warmth — protect you.

the event wrapped up smoothly, but leave it to gojo to suggest a “girls day out” to celebrate – the “girls” in question, of course, were all of you.

“come on!” gojo insisted, practically bouncing as you all filed out of the venue. “a little lunch at this fancy new place! i already reserved us a table. trust me, you’ll love it.” he flashed that signature grin, one that sparkled with both charm and mischief.

“i thought you called this a girl’s day out?” toji raised an eyebrow, looking mildly exasperated. “you’re delusional if you think i’m your girl, gojo.”

gojo only smirked, looping his arm through toji’s despite his attempts to shake him off. 

“toji, honey, everyone’s my girl,” he teased. “besides, i knew you’d say yes deep down.”

“keep telling yourself that,” toji muttered, though a small smirk betrayed his amusement.

suguru shook his head, amused, as he watched their dynamic. “sometimes i think we enable him too much.”

“you definitely do,” shoko chimed in, already lighting a cigarette as you walked along. “but at least lunch on gojo’s tab makes it worth it.”

soon enough, the five of you strolled into the swanky restaurant, where the hostess greeted gojo with a wide smile. “right this way, mr. gojo,” she said, leading you all to a secluded table with an impressive view.

gojo waited until you all took your seats before he threw himself down, stretching out like he owned the place. “order whatever you want, my treat!” he announced, flashing a grin at the menu. “the foie gras here is to die for.”

“you’re ordering foie gras?” you raised an eyebrow, half-amused and half-horrified.

gojo shrugged, feigning innocence. “what? it’s delicious.” he turned to toji. “you’re in, right?”

toji gave him a dry look. “i don’t even know what that is, gojo.”

suguru snorted into his drink. “you’re so cultured, toji.”

toji rolled his eyes, shoving a breadstick into his mouth with exaggerated indifference. “as long as it’s not something gojo personally cooked, i’ll eat it.”

gojo gasped dramatically, clutching his heart. “you wound me! i make a mean ramen!”

shoko raised an eyebrow at him. “instant ramen doesn’t count, gojo.”

as you skimmed the menu, suguru leaned over to point out some of the more “normal” dishes. 

“i’d stick to these if i were you,” he chuckled. “unless you’re ready for gojo’s idea of exotic.”

“good call,” you replied, grinning. “i’m not trying to eat anything that still has a face.”

just then, gojo noticed a seafood platter being served at a nearby table, and his eyes lit up. “oh, look at that! who’s in for oysters? fresh from the coast, or so they say.”

toji grimaced, pushing the menu away. “you’re kidding, right? i don’t eat anything slimy.”

gojo wagged his finger at him, smirking. “toji, you’ll never know the finer things in life with an attitude like that.”

“if the finer things in life involve slimy food, count me out,” toji retorted, crossing his arms.

you couldn’t help but laugh, catching suguru’s eye. he shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. 

“some things never change, huh?”

“yeah, especially gojo’s tastes,” shoko muttered, taking a sip of her drink.

as the food finally arrived, the table was soon filled with laughter and stories, everyone swapping tales about work, life, and everything in between. gojo, unsurprisingly, dominated the conversation, though he was more than happy to playfully drag each of you into his stories.

“and then, get this,” gojo laughed, his shoulders shaking. “i convinced the poor guy i was a psychic! he walked around with a ‘cursed’ amulet for a week before he realized i was just messing with him.”

“i don’t understand how anyone falls for your crap,” toji said, shaking his head, though even he was hiding a smile.

“it’s a gift,” gojo replied smugly, before winking at you. “isn’t that right?”

“oh, definitely,” you replied dryly. “a gift and a curse.”

“mostly a curse,” shoko agreed, patting gojo’s shoulder.

after a few rounds of drinks, everyone had relaxed into the easy camaraderie, passing dishes and laughing as gojo continued his dramatic retellings, complete with hand gestures and questionable impressions.

“so, toji,” gojo leaned over with a sly grin, “how’s… life?”

toji eyed him, wary. “life’s fine, gojo. what are you getting at?”

“nothing!” gojo held up his hands innocently. “just curious about your… extracurriculars.”

toji rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as shoko smirked, clearly entertained by toji’s suffering.

suguru leaned in, murmuring to you, “you think he’ll make it through the whole lunch without snapping?”

you laughed softly. “he’s holding up pretty well, all things considered.”

as dessert rolled around, gojo ordered a massive platter of sweets “for the table,” though everyone knew he’d end up eating half of it himself.

“i swear, if you finish all those eclairs before i even get one…” toji warned, eyeing gojo.

gojo winked, already reaching for a plate. “too slow, toji! if you want something, you’ve got to seize it.”

“yeah? you wanna see me seize it?” toji reached over, snatching an éclair from gojo’s hand in one swift move.

the entire table burst out laughing, gojo’s indignant look only adding to the humor. it was one of those rare moments where everything felt right, like you were all in sync, just enjoying each other’s company.

as you leaned back in your chair, watching everyone banter, you felt a warmth settle in your chest. these were the kinds of moments you’d remember – the laughter, the shared jokes, the way each person’s personality filled the room in a way only they could.

it was a good day. 

and somehow, you had gojo’s “girls day out” to thank for it.

“suguru! where are you going?” gojo called, laughing.

suguru gave a halfhearted smile. “just… need to take this.”

you watched him go, a flicker of concern starting to build when minutes passed with no sign of his return. eventually, you excused yourself, hoping everything was alright.

turning the corner, you found him leaning against the wall, head down, shoulders tense and shaking slightly. the quiet sound of his breath catching, his barely-contained sobs – it was like a punch to the chest. 

suguru geto never cried.

“suguru?” you whispered, not wanting to startle him.

he looked up, his face streaked with tears, a raw, vulnerable expression you’d never seen. he quickly tried to brush it off, rubbing his eyes. “you shouldn’t… see me like this,” he muttered.

your heart clenched as you stepped closer. “hey, i’m your friend. you don’t have to hide from me.”

he looked away, swallowing hard, his voice strained. “it’s… her. she made her choice.” he took a ragged breath. “she doesn’t love me. she’s with someone else now.”

you felt your stomach twist at the pain in his voice, at the way his composure was unraveling before you. you reached out instinctively, placing a hand on his shoulder. “suguru, i’m so sorry. i know how much she meant to you.”

he let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. 

“i thought we had something real, you know? i thought… i thought she’d see me the same way.”

“you loved her,” you murmured, feeling his anguish like a weight pressing on your chest. “you gave her everything. sometimes people… they just don’t see what’s right in front of them.”

“maybe it’s me,” he choked, clenching his fists. “maybe i just wasn’t enough.”

you took his hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “don’t say that. you’re more than enough. she just… didn’t see it. it doesn’t mean you aren’t worth it.”

his face crumpled, and for a moment, he was silent, holding onto you like you were an anchor keeping him from sinking. 

“i feel so… empty,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper.

“let it out, suguru,” you said gently, wrapping your arms around him. “you don’t have to carry this alone.”

he leaned into your embrace, taking deep, shuddering breaths as he tried to regain control. you rubbed soothing circles on his back, feeling each tremble, each heartbeat, sharing in the quiet vulnerability of the moment.

“i don’t know what i’d do without you right now,” he said, his voice barely audible.

“you don’t have to,” you replied softly. “i’m here. you’ll be okay, suguru. even if it takes time.”

as you comforted him, you didn’t notice that toji had also come looking for you. he’d been watching the hallway, glancing at his watch, wondering what was taking you so long. 

a knot of worry twisted in his stomach, his mind flashing back to the earlier incident – that sleazy man at the event who had tried to approach you.

what if something happened again?

when he turned the corner, the sight he found stopped him cold. 

you, hugging suguru, holding him so tightly, your hand stroking his hair as he buried his face into your shoulder.

a strange, hot flare of jealousy surged up in his chest. 

his jaw clenched as he stared at you, his fingers twitching with the urge to do… something. here was suguru, wrapped up in your arms, his pain visible and raw – but still.

 toji couldn’t help the spike of resentment. why did it have to be suguru you were comforting?

why couldn’t you hold onto him like that?

his fingers tightened around the edge of his jacket, his thoughts spiraling. he knew he had no right to feel this way, knew suguru was hurting – but the sight of you so intimately close, your gentle words he couldn’t quite hear, only made his jealousy deepen.

his eyes narrowed as he kept watching, trying to ignore the twinge of vulnerability he hadn’t expected. why did he care so much? he gritted his teeth. 

but when you finally looked up, catching sight of him, his expression was unreadable, masked beneath a carefully controlled look. there was a subtle stiffness to the way he held himself, and his gaze flickered briefly to suguru before settling back on you.

“toji…” you said softly, surprised to see him there.

he crossed his arms, giving a slight nod in suguru’s direction. “everything alright?”

“yeah,” you replied, glancing at suguru, who gave a faint nod, still wiping at his eyes. “just… a hard day.”

toji’s eyes softened slightly as he looked at you, though his expression remained guarded. “you’re a good friend,” he murmured, barely audible, though there was a hint of something deeper behind his words.

you offered him a small smile, sensing the underlying tension. “just doing what anyone would.”

toji’s gaze lingered on you a little longer, his jealousy ebbing slightly, though a part of him still ached to be the one you held so tightly, the one you’d stayed for so long just to comfort. 

but he pushed the feeling down, knowing that tonight, suguru needed you more.

suguru excused himself to rejoin the table, likely gravitating toward satoru, who knew more about his heartbreak than anyone else there. that left just you and toji standing in your little corner, tucked away from the bustling restaurant.

he was looking at you with that smirk of his, the kind that had you already feeling flustered, but determined not to give him the satisfaction. he took a casual step forward, slipping his hands into his pockets, and leaned in close, voice low and almost playful.

“so… what’re you doing over here, all alone with me?” he drawled, eyes trailing slowly from your eyes down to your lips.

before he could say anything else, you raised an eyebrow, folding your arms. 

“you mean, other than watching you try to pretend you weren’t sporting a hard-on for half the event?”

the teasing grin on your lips was unmistakable, and his reaction was instant. toji’s expression flickered, a hint of surprise in his eyes, followed by an intense gleam as he chuckled under his breath. “oh, so you noticed that, huh?”

“noticed? please,” you scoffed, keeping up your confident front even as he closed the space between you with slow, measured steps. “how could i not? it was right there.”

“guess you were too busy looking at me to focus on anything else,” he replied smoothly, his voice dropping a little lower. he leaned in, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours, breath warm against your skin. “maybe i should’ve been paying more attention to you instead.”

your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t let it show. 

“well, now you know better,” you murmured back, voice challenging. “maybe you should’ve acted on it then, instead of waiting until now.”

he raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “oh, is that a challenge?”

“only if you can handle it,” you shot back, the thrill of the back-and-forth sparking something between you two.

his eyes darkened, and before you knew it, he had one hand on your waist, pulling you flush against him, his other hand braced against the wall by your head. 

“you think i can’t handle a little challenge from you?” he murmured, his lips so close they nearly brushed yours.

you swallowed, but kept your cool. “if you could, you wouldn’t be hesitating.”

“trust me, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice low and dangerously smooth, “when i’m done with you, you won’t be the one running your mouth.”

before you could come up with a retort, his lips were on yours, firm and demanding, as if he’d been waiting all night to finally do this. you couldn’t hold back a soft gasp as he kissed you deeper, his hand sliding up to cradle your face while his other gripped your waist tightly, pressing you up against the wall.

your hands instinctively found their way to his shoulders, clutching him as he took full control of the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours with a fierceness that left your head spinning. he groaned softly as he pressed his body closer, one hand sliding up the side of your thigh, fingers grazing over the soft fabric of your dress.

“you like getting me all worked up, don’t you?” he murmured against your lips, his voice laced with that smug edge that made you shiver. “can’t get enough of teasing me, huh?”

“maybe i do,” you shot back, though your voice wavered slightly as he bit down on your lower lip, sending a spark through you. “but it’s not my fault you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”

he chuckled darkly, his hands sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing just beneath your ribs as he pressed his hips against yours. 

“yeah? what’re you gonna do about it?” he murmured, leaning in to brush his lips over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

“you really think you’re in control here?” you asked, voice challenging even as he continued to press you into the wall. “because from where i’m standing, it looks like you’re the one who can’t resist me.”

“careful what you say,” he warned, his tone thick with restrained desire. “i’m this close to dragging you out of here and making you eat those words.”

your heart raced, and even though you were half-tempted to keep pushing him, you couldn’t deny the thrill of having him this close, his hands roaming over you, his lips brushing down your neck. you let out a breathless laugh, threading your fingers through his hair as you tugged him closer. 

“then maybe you should quit talking and show me what you’ve got.”

he didn’t need any further invitation. his grip tightened on you, his mouth covering yours in a heated, almost punishing kiss that left you breathless. his hands roamed over your body with a hunger that was practically palpable, every touch igniting a new spark. 

he was practically devouring you, his breath coming faster as he pressed you harder against the wall, his fingers digging into your waist as he kissed you deeply, thoroughly, like he wanted to leave his mark.

“god,” he murmured, voice husky, “you’re driving me insane.” he leaned back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze intense. “you really wanna keep pushing me, huh?”

you smirked, your own voice barely above a whisper. “maybe i just like seeing what you’ll do about it.”

on the outside, you were holding your ground. confident smirks, playful retorts, the whole act. but on the inside? 

you were freaking the fuck out. 

here you were, basically mimicking every female lead you’d ever written, pulling from their limitless reserve of sass and self-assuredness to somehow keep pace with toji's relentless flirting. each comeback, each smirk — it was like a mental pep talk to channel all those characters who’d never break a sweat in this situation.

but… oh god. what if things actually got hot and heavy? 

you were standing there, going toe-to-toe with toji of all people, and it hit you — you were completely out of your depth here. this was not your usual flirting, the teasing banter you’d half-heartedly perfected through fictional dialogue. 

this was real.

and suddenly the thought crept in like an alarm bell: you might actually have to… gn?

your eyes widened a fraction as you tried to keep your cool. 

gn. 

get naked, not even good night — although, maybe a good night after the get naked part, if you even made it that far without spontaneously combusting. 

your mind raced, frantically scrolling through every bedroom scene you’d ever written, but realizing none of them really prepared you for this. 

oh my god, you panicked inwardly, just because i write smut doesn’t mean i know what to do when i’m the one gripping the sheets!

“what, cat got your tongue?” toji’s voice interrupted your internal spiral, his smirk widening as he traced a thumb across your cheek, dipping dangerously close to your lips. “not so confident now, are ya?”

you forced a grin, cursing the tremble in your fingers as they clutched at his shirt. 

“oh, please, like i’m nervous,” you shot back, mentally crossing every finger and toe that your voice didn’t waver. 

inside, though, you were a swirling mess, praying he didn’t catch the slightest tremor. 

fake it till you make it, right? 

only problem was, the longer he looked at you, the more he seemed to see right through you.

his eyes narrowed just a little, his smirk shifting into something… softer, a touch more considerate. you wanted to think he’d be gracious, that he’d at least slow down, but no, there was something else in his gaze. maybe a flicker of understanding? 

no, that was too generous.

he was toji.

and as if he could sense your hesitation, he leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear. 

“relax, princess,” he whispered, his tone softer, maybe even gentle. “we can go as slow as you want. besides…” his lips quirked up into a teasing grin. 

“don’t think you’re getting out of this without admitting how much you’re enjoying it.”

relax? yeah, right. 

your heart was doing backflips, your mind racing through every possible move you’d probably never have the courage to pull off. he had you right where he wanted you, and you couldn’t stop the blush rising to your cheeks. 

oh god, you thought desperately, please don’t ask me to make the next move.

just as you were bracing yourself to somehow manage to keep up this charade of confidence, toji’s phone vibrated between you, cutting the tension with a blaring ringtone. and of all people, it had to be gojo. you glimpsed his name flashing on the screen right as toji picked up, rolling his eyes before pressing the phone to his ear.

“what, satoru?” toji sighed, clearly irritated at the interruption.

“toji! man, hurry up and get back here!” gojo’s voice screeched through the phone, loud enough for you to hear the dramatic urgency. “we’ve got a very, very depressed mr. geto here who’s having the existential crisis of the century. we need all hands on deck, and yes, that means you too. and preferably sober, mind you. no drinks this time! none.” 

gojo's voice dropped, muttering something about “banging y/n later if you have to,” but you both caught it.

toji gave you a side-eye smirk, shaking his head at gojo’s predictability, before letting out a sigh. 

“fine. but you owe me one, big time.” and with that, he ended the call, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

before you could even tease him about the abrupt change of plans, he leaned in and gave you a sharp smack! on the ass, grinning at the way you jumped. 

“guess we’ll have to put this on hold, princess. duty calls.” with a wink, he took your hand, leading you back toward the table.

it was gonna be a long night.

back at the table, the scene was…well, not what you’d expected. 

suguru looked rough. 

he sat slumped in his chair, swirling a glass of water (gojo had made sure of it) with a far-off stare that looked like he was seeing into another dimension. gojo and shoko were positioned on either side of him, each with their own ineffective tactics.

“c’mon, sugu, it’s not the end of the world,” gojo said, nudging him with a grin that looked a bit too forced. “i mean, i never liked her anyway. you deserve way better than —”

“she was amazing,” suguru cut him off, his voice flat but tinged with emotion. “you wouldn’t understand, satoru.”

shoko sighed, patting his shoulder. “she wasn’t that amazing. she had weird fashion taste.”

“and didn’t she correct you on every little thing? constantly?” gojo added, crossing his arms with a small smirk.

suguru gave them both a look, unamused. “i liked her fashion sense. and i didn’t mind the corrections.”

toji leaned back in his seat, giving you a subtle eye roll. 

this was what you’d come back for. 

he sighed, then leaned forward, slapping a hand on suguru’s shoulder. “you know, sulking isn’t gonna help anything. maybe it’s time to get back out there, stop dwelling on someone who clearly didn’t value you.”

suguru let out a tired sigh, and gojo jumped in, eyes lighting up. “exactly! there are plenty of people who’d be thrilled to date the great suguru geto!” he gestured around the room as if a fan club might spontaneously form right then and there. 

“you’re smart, you’re talented —”

“and single,” shoko added dryly, sipping her drink with a shrug.

suguru slumped lower, clearly unconvinced. “i don’t want to be single,” he muttered. “i wanted her.”

you winced at the defeated tone in his voice, exchanging a helpless look with toji, who looked equally unsure what else they could say to help. 

gojo, though, was not one to give up. he clapped his hands, as if a brilliant idea had just struck him.

“okay! new plan,” he declared, leaning in with an almost manic enthusiasm. “you’re going to go out with us this weekend. all of us. no work, no responsibilities — just a wild time. we’ll find you a nice rebound —”

suguru glared. “no, thanks.”

shoko groaned, propping her chin on her hand. “well, i’m out of ideas. anyone else?”

you took a deep breath, deciding to give it one last shot. 

“maybe…you don’t have to forget her completely, but maybe you can focus on what made you happy outside of her. like, remember what you love doing?”

suguru looked at you, as if considering the thought, but then slumped back. “it’s not the same,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s just…not the same.”

gojo groaned dramatically, throwing his head back. “i swear, you’re worse than me on my worst breakup day. someone call for reinforcements because i think we’re gonna need a miracle worker for this one.”

the table fell quiet, everyone glancing at suguru, who looked as defeated as ever, and it hit you that maybe tonight, there really wasn’t a solution.

one month later, the dreaded wedding invitation arrived, dropped unceremoniously on suguru’s desk. it was embossed in gold, the bride and groom’s names announced in elegant script, and just looking at it made his chest tighten. this was her wedding — the woman he’d once thought he’d spend his life with, now celebrating a future with someone else.

gojo’s reaction was immediate, bursting out in an exaggerated laugh when he saw the invite on suguru’s desk. 

“are you kidding me? she’s really inviting you? that’s low, even for her. come on, suguru, you’re not actually thinking about going, are you?”

suguru just gave a small smile, almost serene in the face of it all. “actually, i think i might.”

gojo gaped. “what?! dude, they’re practically rubbing it in your face! it’s like sending a ‘ha-ha, we’re in love, and you’re not’ postcard.” 

he crossed his arms, scowling at the offending piece of cardstock. “this is the most tasteless thing i’ve ever seen.”

shoko, who was nearby, raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-curious. “maybe she didn’t mean it that way, satoru. maybe it’s her way of being considerate, keeping suguru involved as a friend.”

gojo scoffed, rolling his eyes. “oh please, you don’t invite your ex to your wedding, especially if you broke his heart. she should be thrilled he’s not cursing her name in three different languages.”

but suguru only shook his head, calm as ever. “it’s not like that, satoru. we’ve both moved on, in our own ways. i don’t hold it against her. she chose what makes her happy, and if that’s someone else…well, then i wish her the best.” he shrugged lightly. “i don’t see any point in being bitter about it.”

gojo stared at him, as if seeing an entirely different person. “you’re joking, right? this is not you. the real suguru would’ve burned that thing or at least made a snarky comment about her dress being too ‘last season.’”

suguru laughed, an easy, relaxed sound that caught them all by surprise. “that’s exactly it, satoru. i don’t want to be that guy anymore. i’ve spent enough time with those feelings. they’re…exhausting. if going to this wedding gives me closure, then why not?”

gojo looked like he was about to combust. “closure? closure is just a fancy word for ‘let me put myself through hell for no reason.’ honestly, suguru, you’re giving her too much credit. she’s the one who ditched you, remember?”

suguru tilted his head, offering gojo a gentle but pointed look. “maybe it’s not about her anymore. maybe this is just about me.” his voice was calm, but there was a certain finality in it, as if he’d already come to terms with everything.

gojo, meanwhile, huffed and crossed his arms, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “well, i think it’s ridiculous. she doesn’t deserve any more of your attention.”

suguru sighed, but there was a faint smile on his lips, as if gojo’s dramatics were somehow endearing. 

“satoru, not everything is a personal insult. people make choices. sometimes they’re not the ones we wanted, but that doesn’t make them wrong.”

gojo let out a long, exaggerated groan. “you’re way too good for this world, suguru. like, way too mature. no one deserves you. i’d be sending her a glitter bomb or something, just for the hell of it.”

shoko chuckled, patting gojo on the back. “maybe you should take a lesson from suguru. not everyone has to nurse their ego through every breakup.”

gojo snorted, still glaring at the invitation like it had personally offended him. “fine, go ahead and be the bigger person, suguru. but if you even think about bringing me as your plus-one, i’m causing a scene.” 

he folded his arms defiantly. “i’m talking upstaging the bride type of scene.”

suguru’s smile widened, genuine and peaceful. “noted, satoru. but i think i’ll be alright.”

and in that moment, watching suguru handle what should have been a painful reminder with quiet dignity, even gojo’s bluster faded just a bit. sure, he might think suguru was handling it all wrong, but deep down, he couldn’t help but admire his friend’s strength.

tag list is open, comment if you'd like to be on it <3 [ @lemonlimecrystal-blog @mypashionisforfashion @crocodilethesir ] produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡ banners by cafekitsune

[willsimpforanyone]

can I request Leo Valdez smut?

he starts getting handsy at a party with a hyperfem reader in a short skirt and they go at it in a bathroom.

-🐿️

i can definitely do that for u, this one got away from me and i think u can tell i mostly read smut lmao

have u declared urself squirrel anon? or is that just what u use lmao

content: no mention of protection (be smart y'all), coming inside, mirror sex ig?, orgasm denial (just once, fem recieving), exhibitionism if u squint, she/her pronouns for reader

---------------------

For the tenth time, I push Leo's hand out from under the hem of my skirt. I lace my fingers with his, keeping his hand still under the guise of being affectionate as I continue the conversation I'm in the middle of.

Of course, with one avenue shut down, my ever-creative boyfriend finds a new tactic; his other hand.

His fingers sneak around my waist, fingertips just tracing over the hem of my crop top, nails catching lightly at the pale pink fabric. I don't even need to look at him to know he's barely suppressing a smirk.

"Keep your hands under control," I whisper to him once the conversation has moved away from me. "I don't want to spend the night adjusting my clothes from your groping."

Leo stifles a laugh, head turning to nose at my cheek. "Then don't adjust them, let me see more of you." His hand on my waist slips upward, fingertips barely brushing the side of my chest.

"I'm gonna kill you," I hiss, but a smile keeps pulling traitorously at my lips. His hand in mine squeezes at my fingers, inching our joined hands over my thigh.

His voice is soft and a little raspy, hot against my ear. "Fine, but can I fuck you first?"

I sputter a shocked laugh, whipping my head around to see the tempting glint in his eyes, paired with the teasing smirk on his lips. Raising an eyebrow in disblief, I dart my eyes over the rest of the room full of people.

"...are you being serious?"

It's as if something lights up in him, sitting up straighter and tightening his hold on me just a little. "I wasn't, but I am now!" He grins, teeth biting at his lower lip. "Can I? Holy shit, can I actually fuck you right now?"

That's too many things said way too loud for my dignity, and I smack a hand over his mouth to stem the flow of excitement. "If you shut the fuck up, maybe."

Leo nods earnestly behind my hand, eyes wide with anticipation. He pulls my hand away to give it a kiss on my knuckles. "I'll never talk again."

"...sounds highly unlikely," I laugh, standing up and smoothing down my skirt.

The speed at which Leo navigates through the party to an empty bathroom is suspicious, almost as if he'd planned it, or was maybe so needy he'd kept an eye on which rooms were empty. The minute the door shuts and locks with a click, his hands are on me, lips pressed hotly against mine. My back gets pushed against the door and I gasp, Leo taking advantage of my surprise to deepen the kiss and lick into my mouth.

He tastes of whatever dumb cocktail he'd made us earlier, declaring himself a professional mixologist because he was good at measurements. My eyes flutter closed, hands running up his chest and into his hair, drawing a soft moan from him.

"So pretty," he breathes, words pressed between kisses, his hands tugging and fisting my clothes like he can't quite decided what to do with them. "Can't believe I let you go to this party without ruining you first."

"Let me?" I tease, pretending to be offended and half-heartedly pushing him away with a hand on his chest. Leo whines at the disconnection of our lips.

"You know what I mean," he murmurs, pressing me harder against the door and working his hands under my crop top. "Wear whatever the fuck you want, but it's gonna make me go insane."

I laugh, cutting myself off with a soft, short moan as he gets two handfuls of my chest, squeezing and groping as he pants against my lips. With a swift movement, he shoves my top up under my arms, revealing the dark pink bra, the tiny gemstone in the centre glinting in the bathroom light.

"Fucking hell, baby-" He almost whimpers, eyes fixed on the swell of my tits under the pretty garment. "You want me dead, is that it?"

Just to really drive it home, I lean in so my lips are pressed against his ear. "You like it? I was worried you'd be able to see it through my clothes, but I guess not, luckily my skirt is just long enough to hide the matching underwear."

I briefly worry for his knees as Leo falls to the floor, and I giggle as he drags my skirt unceremoniously down my legs. As promised, the matching dark pink panties are on display, gemstone on the front and all.

One of Leo's hands goes to my thigh, and his other hand guides one of mine to his shoulder. "Hold on, pretty girl."

Before I can get another word out, his mouth is on me, tongue licking a broad stroke over my underwear. My hand fists the shoulder of his shirt, a loud gasp pulled from my lips as he buries his head between my thighs. His free hand yanks the thin, damp fabric out the way, holding it as he laps at my pussy with an almost feverish intensity.

My stomach swoops deliciously as he circles my clit with the tip of his tongue, head falling forward and hips bucking against his mouth. His brown eyes meet mine as he looks up from below me, and I can see the delight and desire in his eyes as he sees me cover my mouth when he slips a finger inside me.

His tongue circles and strokes at my bundle of nerves, long finger pushing in and out of my hole and curling at the perfect spot to get my legs trembling. The familiar knot in my gut tightens further and further, my walls spasming around Leo's fingers as he slips another one inside me.

"B-Baby, 'm gonna come-" I pant behind my hand, gazing down at him desperately. "Gonna m-make me come, fuck-"

He pulls his fingers out, tongue slipping back in his mouth with a dirty grin. "No, not yet."

"What?" My jaw drops, frustration taking the place of the pleasurable tension in my stomach. "Come on, I was so close!"

"I know." Leo shrugs, before standing up and grabbing my waist to bend me over the bathroom counter. His hand tangles in my hair, the other yanking my panties down my thighs to my knees as he stands behind me. "You're gonna come on my cock."

I moan at his voice, the words so matter-of-fact, like there were no other options; either I was gonna come on his dick, or not at all. Skirt discarded on the floor and underwear out the way, Leo undoes his pants with one hand, shoving them down along with his underwear. The way he sighs in relief as he wraps a hand around himself makes a shiver run up my spine, biting my lip as I watch his reflection throw its head back.

"You're so fucking pretty, you know that?" he murmurs, looking down and nudging his tip between my legs, moaning lowly at the way my arousal coats the head of his dick. "How do I even function when you're so gorgeous in your cute little tops and tiny fuckin' skirts?"

I don't know if I'm supposed to reply, but I can't when he presses into me, both of us moaning in unison. He doesn't look away as my pussy swallows his cock inch by inch, his hands gripping tight to my hips.

"I lasted two hours," he pants, groaning low in his throat as his hips meet mine, sinking as deep as he can into my cunt. "Two hours needing to be in this pretty little pussy, I think that's pretty good considering my distinct lack of impulse control."

My eyes roll back as he suddenly snaps his hips, a sharp moan falling from my lips. "T-Two hours? We've only been here- shit!- an hour and a half?"

"Yeah, well," Leo laughs breathlessly, beginning to build up a rhythm, letting go of my hips to brace himself against the bathroom counter as he fucks me into it. "Wanted you before we even left the house, the second I saw you looking like this-" He punctuates his sentence with a particularly harsh thrust, a yelp catching in my throat as I scramble for purchase against the surface of the counter. "-and now I can't decide whether to take you home or f-fill you up with my come and make you go back to the party."

A rush of heat pulses through me and I clench around him involuntarily, gasping unsteadily, dizzy at the image he conjured up in my mind. I feel him laughing lowly against my back, his nose burying into the crook of my neck.

"Dirty fuckin' girl, you got tighter," he teases, hips getting faster, snapping his cock into me over and over, a hand reaching down to find my clit. "Is that what you want? Want me to pull your cute pink panties up and hold my load inside you, trying not to ruin your skirt?"

His middle finger gathers the wetness from my folds and smears it over my clit, making smooth circling motions that send electricity through my body. "F-Fuck, yes, don't stop," I whimper, catching his eye in the mirror and moaning brokenly at his dark, mischievious smirk. "I'm gonna c-come, want you to come inside me, L-Leo, please, baby, wanna h-have your come!"

Leo swears several times in Spanish, hot and fast against my ear as his hips stutter against mine. "That's it, pretty girl, come around my dick, wanna feel it, come for me and I'll fill you up, okay?"

I nod frantically, and it only takes a few more seconds of his finger playing with my clit before I feel that knot in my gut break, pulled too tight as I spasm between him and the bathroom counter. My whole body trembles, and Leo sinks his teeth lightly into my shoulder. "Feels so good, h-holy shit, did so good for me, there we go..."

He lets out a gutteral groan against my skin, his hips stuttering to a stop as he pulses inside me, thick come painting my insides. His arms wrap around me, nosing against my neck as he rocks his hips a little, panting hard.

After a few moments, the aftershocks settling, Leo eases himself out of me, shushing my soft whines with kisses pressed to my shoulder and neck. His fingers move to my hole, gently pushing against it to stop his come from spilling out too much as his free hand carefully pulls my panties back up my legs.

"My beautiful girl," he murmurs, voice thick with affection as he adjusts the fabric to make sure it's comfortable, kneeling for a moment to press a gentle kiss to my pussy over the panties. He helps me off the counter, arms around me as he litters kisses over my cheeks and nose until I giggle. "There it is, that's my favourite sound."

"Cheesy," I whisper, tone stupidly loving as I grin up at him, arms slinging around his neck. "Are we really gonna go back out there and pretend nothing happened while I ruin my underwear?"

A pause, and he shrugs. "I'll buy you more."

--------------------------

i hope u enjoyed, this kind of got away from me but i'm not mad about it

[seoulmatez]

which hq boy is the type to flirt with their ex and why is it matsukawa issei

[unfinishedslurs]

The boy stops in his tracks. “I know you,” he says, tilting his head curiously. He’s not tall, but he’s regal nonetheless, dressed all in white. Something about him makes Leia’s hair stand on end, and although she hides it she feels a stirring in her own chest. I know you like I know my own soul, she thinks wildly, and wonders where it came from. Has she gone insane?

“That’s nice,” she says, and shoots him anyway.

He deflects it in a flash of light, a glowing blue laser sword appearing in his hand like magic. She’s only seen one of those before, and it’s Vader’s. If this boy is anything like Vader, she realizes, she’s in deep shit.

She’s smart enough to know when she’s outmatched. Leia makes the tactical decision to run for her life.

Later, as she’s getting the hell out of there, she wonders why he didn’t try to stop her.

She remembers being young and tugging on her mothers skirts, demanding to know why their guest was so sad. “Does he not like it here?” She’d asked, and then, trembling, because Kenobi always seemed saddest around her. “Is it…because of me?”

“Oh, Leia,” her mother sighed, lifting her into her arms. “It’s not that, I promise.”

“Then what is it?”

“Master Kenobi lost a child under his care, years ago.” Breha’s eyes grew deeper, darker. “It was not his fault, but he blames himself. You remind him of that child, that’s all.”

Leia had quieted at that, contemplative.

The next time she’d seen Master Kenobi, she had given him a hug. He didn’t seem to know what to do with that, so she resolved to give him more of them. “He’s lonely,” she’d told her mother. “No one should be lonely.”

Looking at Obi-Wan Kenobi now, the memory seemed so far away. He’d aged thirty years in the ten it had been.

He looks, Leia thinks with a small twinge of regret, very lonely.

“Leia,” he greets. “It’s been a long time.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Leia sees a glint of white.

Kenobi freezes in his tracks. “Luke?” He whispers, and through the distance Leia can hear it as if he’d been speaking directly into her ear.

Master Kenobi lost a child under his care, her mother whispers in her head. He blames himself.

In an instant, Leia understands everything.

Kenobi is still staring at the boy he’d lost so long ago when Vader cuts him down.

Later, as she’s pacing around on the Falcon to Han muttering darkly about Princesses and supernatural abilities, she rememberers the way the boy collapsed, as if all his strings had been cut. Vader was too occupied with him to even look at her as she shot at him desperately.

Luke. She hates him more than she hates herself.

“They know where you are,” he hisses frantically. “They’re coming for you. You have to run.”

“Wait!” Leia quickly pulls up their sonar. Nothing yet, but it would explain the distant queasiness she’d felt since they’d landed. She tended to trust her gut. “How do you know? How much time do we have?”

“Not important, and not enough,” he says. “I have to go, and so do you. You need to leave yesterday.”

“How do I know I can trust you? I don’t even know who you are.”

He pauses. “Call me Skywalker.”

“That’s not an answer, Skywalker.”

“Yes it is.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but there are faint voices on the other end, drawing nearer.

“Shit,” Skywalker mutters. “I have to go. I’ll be in contact, okay? Don’t ever tell me where you are, or where you’re heading. Vader and Palpatine aren’t shy about reading minds. Just leave as soon as you can, and figure out the rest.”

“But—“

It’s too late. The comm has disconnected.

She stares down at it, disbelieving. How would the Empire know they’re here? Why should she trust a stranger who somehow got her personal comm code?

Gut feeling or not, on paper this was a perfect location. Supplied, armored, and most importantly, extremely well hidden. There was no real reason to think it would possibly be found out.

It’s probably a trap. Almost definitely a trap.

Han sticks his head in the door, a sour look on his face. “Hey Princess, can you tell these idiots—“

She makes a decision then and there.

“We’re leaving.”

“What?”

“We’re evacuating, effective immediately.” She pushes past him, and he follows so close he’s nearly stepping on her heel.

“Why? I think it’s pretty cozy here. Actual sunlight doesn’t hurt, either.”

“Apparently too cozy.” She grabs the first person she sees, a pilot who stares at her with wide eyes. “Emergency evacuation. Spread the word to pack everything you can and leave, I’ll let you know where we’re headed when we’re in orbit.”

He salutes and scurries off.

“Woah, hey now.” Han snatches at her elbow until she turns around to face him. “What’s going on?”

“There’s a new informant. He told me the Empire knows we’re here. They’re coming for us.”

“And you trust this person because…”

“I don’t have a choice,” she snaps. Someone runs past them, holding three packs filled to the brim with rations. “It’s either he’s lying and we’re not in danger, or he’s telling the truth and we’re going to die if we don’t listen. It’s not exactly hard math.”

It could be a trap of course, but he hadn’t suggested any sort of direction or destination to follow, and Leia wasn’t inclined to share. Especially not after his tidbit about Vader and Palpatine reading minds.

He squints at her. “That’s not it.”

“What?”

“I don’t believe you,” he insists. He’s so infuriating. Leia doesn’t know why she hasn’t kicked him out yet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do, and you’re either gonna tell me why, or find a different transport when we head out of here.”

“Who said I was riding on your hunk of junk?” She demands. She actually was planning on going with them, since the Falcon has more than enough room for all the supplies that can’t fit in the other ships and none of the trustworthiness of the other pilots, but Han doesn’t need to know that.

“Well?”

Damn him. Damn him for knowing how to read her. She doesn’t know when she let that happen.

“I feel it,” she admits, defeated. “Something tells me he’s trustworthy. We’ll wait and see if it’s right.”

He studies her. She holds her head high, but inside she’s jittery at the scrutiny. They don’t have time for this.

“Yeah, all right,” Han finally says.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” He rolls his eyes, like she’s not acting absolutely insane by putting all her trust in a random man she’s never even met. “Now come on, Princess, weren’t you the one who said we had to hurry?”

What is it about this man that makes it impossible to tell whether she wants to punch him or drag him into the nearest supply closet? They don’t have time to find out.

“So there’s good news and bad news.”

“Bad news first,” she demands.

“They know there’s a mole.”

“Shit.” Of course they know, how could they not? She should have been more careful, less obvious about the correlation of their movements with the Empire’s plans. “The good news?”

“They’ve tasked me with hunting down this ‘pathetic rebel spy,’” Skywalker says, humor in his voice. “That should buy me some time.”

Leia can’t quite stop the snort she lets out. “Seriously?”

“Yep. You’re speaking to a professional mole-hunter, here.”

“Well congratulations on the promotion, Skywalker.”

“Thank you,” he says grandly. Then, quieter, “It won’t last, Princess. They’ll find out eventually.”

“I know. Just hang in there, it will be over soon.”

“Will it?” He asks, suddenly sounding very young. She realizes that she has no idea how old he is. She doesn’t know anything about the man who has saved them more times than she cared to admit, and the idea rattles her until they sign off.

Later, she looks up the name Skywalker in their archives. There are a few results, but only one sticks out.

Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight and hero of the Clone Wars. Killed at the hands of Darth Vader. There are gossip articles too, speculations on his relationship with the pregnant Senator Padmé Amidala, who died around the same time Skywalker did. The baby, it seems, died with her.

Unless he didn’t.

It’s ridiculous. It’s impossible. The idea is so ludicrous that Leia almost rejects it entirely.

But it makes sense. By the Maker, it makes sense.

The child of Anakin Skywalker, it seems, would be a powerful Force user indeed. Powerful enough for Kenobi to take the baby and run. Powerful enough for the Emperor to want him for his own gain. Powerful enough to send Vader after Kenobi and take the boy himself.

Maybe even powerful enough to shield his mind from Vader and Palpatine’s intrusions.

Powerful enough to hide the fact that he’s a spy.

Leia sinks into her chair, covering her face as she laughs.

Maybe Luke isn’t so bad after all.

“No, no, no,” she mutters, digging through the smoking wreckage of the TIE fighter. “Don’t be dead, please don’t be dead.”

“Princess…” Han lays a hand on her shoulder that she immediately shrugs off.

“No, he’s not dead. He’s not. Luke!”

A faint cough answers her, and she’s so relieved to hear it she could cry. Behind her, Han starts bellowing for a medic and, “Some damn help here, do you expect us to move all this ourselves?”

“Luke, it’s me,” she sobs. “It’s Leia. You’re at the Rebel Base. You’re safe.”

More coughing, and there’s a worrying rasp to his voice when he says, “You know…my name?”

“I figured it out.”

“Smart.” This time, the coughing is so bad Leia and Han both wince.

“Shit, kid,” Han says, moving another piece of rubble. “Don’t talk. We’re gonna get you out of here, all right?”

“Stand back,” Luke chokes out.

“What?”

“Stand back. Please.”

Han protests, but something in Leia knows they should listen to him. She drags him back, and motions everyone else to fall back with them. They do, albeit reluctantly.

“Clear,” she calls, hoping Luke can hear her.

The TIE explodes.

“Fuck!” Han goes back in, Leia on his heels with the terrifying feeling that she’d just allowed Luke to die, before they both stop in their tracks. Around them, the broken pieces of the TIE are floating.

And curled up in the middle is a man dressed all in white.

“Luke!” She pushes past Han to start dragging him out, and after another moment of staring around them, he helps her.

As soon as they get clear, the pieces fall to the ground with a clatter. Luke falls limp with them.

Han is still looking at the TIE. “Can you do that?” He asks quietly.

Leia pauses her examination of the unconscious man in front of her to glare at him. “Is that what you’re most concerned with right now? Really?”

“Excuse me for asking, Princess!”

“It’s white,” Luke grumbles, pulling at his hospital gown bitterly. “I hate wearing white.”

“Should I be offended?”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t even. You look great and you know it. I just feel like I never left.”

“Well,” she says gingerly. “I guess it’s a good thing you got sick of it. If we went around in matching outfits all the time, people might think we’re twins.”

He snorts. “Yeah, right.”

[swordmaid]

lolth-sworn society beauty standards must be so crazy and strict tho…. like if the red eyes are a gift from lolth and if not every drow are born with the red eyes I just imagine you’d get ostracised if you’re born with white eyes or purple, like ur not wanted by lolth from birth so ur inherently worthless. in the same vein if you also don’t have white hair then you’re treated as an Other bc you don’t look like everyone else. and I imagine that lolth is THE very definition of their beauty standard so they aspire to look like her, and all the beauty trends and ideals are influenced from her or from her spiders and if there’s anything any feature about yourself that deviates from lolth’s standards then you’re considered as ugly and grotesque.

likewise, I’d imagine the upkeep of beauty is a sort of status symbol because if you manage to keep up with the elaborate outfits and hairstyles without worrying someone is gonna kill you with it it means that you have the luxury to be comfortable. and also the means to afford such things in the first place bc resources in the underdark are pretty limited and gems from the surface needs to be imported and id imagine they’d be more expensive bc it’s already so risky going down the underdark let alone doing trade in menzoberranzan.

like unsure if this an actual thing too but I like the hc so it’s real to Me! But I like the idea that hair is essentially a status symbol towards the drows, and they favour elaborate braids and updos that resembles a spider’s web and cocoon, and a way to punish and shame someone is to cut off their long hair. like imagine if the matriarchs wore gigantic elaborate braided hair with all these head pieces and designs to show off the status of their house and the power they themselves have, and the lesser houses’ braids are much more smaller in comparison. she would have the means to do her hair like that daily because she has designated servants and slaves attending to her needs, and she has the money to afford all sorts of accessories. and the same goes for their clothes too, since silk is a favourite amongst the drows and it’s a pretty difficult fabric to work with. I’d also imagine lace being a highly sought out fabric among them since it’s so delicate and flimsy, and it could easily snag. but the fact that you’re able to wear something fragile as lace is a power play in itself since it’s a show off your own strength and power … kind of like a taunt ?

anyway, this isn’t really going anywhere I’m just typing aloud but I’d imagine in a society where almost everyone’s colouring is similar to each other, where beauty is one of the most infamous traits they’re known to have, and where they claim that red eyes is a gift from the goddess they’re all expect to covet and worship id imagine the beauty standards there are so crazy and toxic lol

[sukugo]

ive never really been into breeding but i think i get it i get it now 🤔

[allroseshave-their-pricks]

ohmygod

[artbyace]

help im gay panicking

[gideonisms]

Sometimes I wish I would like put on an outfit or be in a scenario or hear a pronoun and think to myself oh yeah THAT'S the right one like it seems like other people are feeling this sense of self I just don't have. I kind of just feel out of place no matter where I am or what I wear or how I present myself, not really in a bad way, just like, I'm a tourist here (everywhere)

[hella1975]

happy eurovison!! do your stretches!!!

babe it's been days since i did my stretches at this point im too scared

[dexaroth]

i cant believe the day but i finally got a full tower pc. bought it already built and at a considerable discount of some 320 dollars off. its fucking huge and theres so many things going on inside... i was initially planning on choosing the parts myself but finding the graphics card was so hard and everyone else convinced me to just buy it built and honestly? good. id probably have fucked this up so badly by myself

i cant use it yet bc i took too long to buy the monitor that was also on sale and now its regular price -_- tho i managed to find a discount used one for now. well see how that goes since ill get it tomorrow. i tested it on out living room tv and it had some kaspersky thingy open and like thats so cute. i hope they left some treats in the browsing history for me to search through before i wipe it clean

[binders-and-beanies]

Anyways I fuckin love women like,, in all my classes I’m distracted bc i am SURROUNDED by gorgeous gorgeous girls in all directions and I am so overwhelmingly attracted 2 them. It makes me feel juvenile as hell and i mean that in a GOOD WAY it’s so COOL to feel butterflies and be excited by your attraction to other humans even if nothing like, happens about it

[hannieehaee]

HOT TO GO!

18+ / mdi

summary: moving into a quiet apartment complex you expected to find nothing but solace, not your most entertaining situationship to date OR the three times you kept it casual with your new neighbor vs the one time he made things serious.

content: neighbor!jungkook, strangers2lovers, situationship (kind of), fwb, jk's a lil bit of a himbo in this fic, afab reader, smut, three smut scenes lol, penetrative sex, dry humping, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, etc.

wc: 7.1k

a/n: this is honestly just a silly and unserious fic that's mostly smut lol i hope u guys enjoy it<3

masterlist | patreon

"Oh, wow, uh, hey."

"Hi?", you looked at the stranger in curiosity, though still very shocked by the adonis of a man who had suddenly knocked on your door.

He cleared his throat and shook his head as if rebuffing himself to speak again, "Fuck, okay, that was such an uncool first impression. What I meant to say was 'Welcome to the neighborhood,' but you just caught me off guard. Sorry."

"I caught you off guard? You're the one who knocked on my door."

"Yeah, not gonna elaborate on that," he chuckled sheepishly, extending his hand, "Hi, I'm Jungkook, your neighbor," he introduced himself.

You chuckled in return, letting his ambiguity slide as you briefly shook his hand, providing him with your name, "Hi, Jungkook. I'm new here, if that wasn't obvious."

"No, yeah, you can really tell the difference between you and the old lady who used to live here. She was- wait, fuck. Did she-"

"No, Jungkook, she's not dead. The landlord told me she just moved into some retirement home," you clarified.

"Thank god," the boy sighed in relief, "Me and Mrs. Louis go way back. She used to bake me cookies on Sundays."

"Oh really? Well, you won't be getting any cookies from me. Sorry," you joked.

Cocking his head to the side, he lifted his eyebrows, "We'll see about that."

"What does that even mean?"

"I can be very convincing."

Was he flirting? Through a cookie euphemism?

"Are you-"

"Anyways, if you need any help with moving in, let me know. Maybe coming over to help build some furniture?", he suggested, "I like to be on a friendly standing with all my neighbors," he smiled as he disregarded his prior flirting, almost as if it had never happened.

"I'm your only neighbor. There's only two apartments per floor," you recalled, still amused by his oddity.

"Exactly," he winked, and with that, he turned to leave, heading back to his own apartment, "See you around."

It was through that very short interaction that you first met your neighbor, Jungkook. Despite how odd he had seemed, he carried a charm that intrigued you (though his pretty appearance also drew you in).

Closing your door, you went back to what you had been doing previously, a smile of disbelief on your face as you tried to come up with some believable reason to scout him for help – as he had offered – just to see him again.

Unfortunately, most of your stuff had not arrived yet, so you truly had nothing you could possibly use as an excuse to get him to come into your apartment so soon. It was nice, though, to know that your new neighbor was as friendly as he was (and as attractive, might you add).

~

"Hey, neighbor."

"Oh, hi, Jungkook. Did I forget to tell you my name last time?", you wondered why he'd omit your name, unless you had been too distracted last time staring at him to remember.

The next time you saw Jungkook was a day later at the apartment complex's laundry room located at the basement of the building. From what you'd seen the few times you'd walked by it on your way to the elevator, no one really seemed to use it. No one except Jungkook, apparently. You'd also come to find out that this apartment complex seemed to be occupied by mostly elderly people, with you and Jungkook being some of the few exceptions.

Eyeing you up and down in a not very discreet way, his eyes landed back on your face before responding, "No, just got distracted, sorry," he chuckled similarly to how he'd done last time.

This was the second time you'd seemingly caught him off guard, but you weren't complaining. The thought of your presence taking him out of focus gave you a slight boost in confidence, especially considering how attractive he was.

You eyed him curiously, noticing he had no laundry with him nor was he using either of the four washing machines located in the room. As soon as he came in, he took a seat on top of the washing machine next to the one you were currently putting your clothes into. When you smiled at him questioningly, he had no reaction, simply smiling back.

"What are you doing?", you asked whilst continuing your prior task, almost paying no mind to him.

"Just hanging out," he responded simply, swinging his feet back and forth as they hovered due to the stature of the washing machine he was currently sitting on.

"What, with me?"

"Yup. Just trying to be neighborly, is all. Shouldn't be down here all alone," he reasoned, "Can I help you? I love doing laundry."

You scoffed at that, "Really? You love doing laundry? Also, I don't need a bodyguard," you hadn't taken offense to his comment, but you'd found it somewhat amusing. He clearly just wanted to spend time with you, which admittedly made you feel slightly bashful. However, there was no harm in making him work for it a little more.

With a huff, he got off the washing machine and leaned down to help you organize your laundry, dividing it between colors, "I'm known as somewhat of a laundry fairy", he nodded seriously.

"Oh, so you do other people's laundry, then?"

"Yep," he nodded, "It's a whole profession. I part-time as bodyguard too," he joked, continuing to shuffle through your clothes.

"The perfect man," you retorted back, sarcasm in your tone.

"Exactly. You could make really good use of me," he winked, finishing up his pile of clothes and moving onto yours, beginning to place them inside the washing machine.

"Are you asking me to use you?", you braved it and flirted back, turning to look up at him.

The air in the room was comfortable, yet it now had a hint of something more. What it was, you weren't sure. Although Jungkook had hinted at being attracted to you when you first met a day prior, you'd never had a flirtation move so quickly. It usually took a bit more conversation before getting to the more suggestive comments, but the pleased look on his face as he looked down at you made you too excited to backtrack.

"I'm surprised it took you this long to get that. Was my self-invite to your apartment yesterday not hint enough?", he followed along, putting down the article of clothing he had in his hands to take a small step towards you, now leaving a very small distance between you.

"Oh? Was that what that was? I think I'm gonna need you to be a bit more specific. Spell it out for me, maybe?", you tilted your head to the side teasingly, almost as if daring him.

"Aw," he placed his hand on his chest, as if hurt, "That's my bad, pretty. I'll be a little more forward from now on, okay?", he coo'd, leaning down and letting his nose nudge against your own lightly.

"So, are you? Or are you all talk?", you dared him, tilting your face upwards, almost meeting his lips.

With a muted grumble, he closed the gap, pulling you towards him with a pull from your waist. Humming against your lips, he pressed you up against him, practically molding you to him as he allowed the kiss to become heated. The air in the room became even heavier somehow, causing you to mute any outside forces that could possibly take you away from a constant chorus of Jungkook playing in your head.

The kiss had no time for hesitance or shy meetings of lips as it instantly occupied the otherwise silent room with wet sounds of tongues intertwining and almost inaudible moans shared between lips. The harsh surface of the washing machine behind you almost felt like nothing as Jungkook's lips continued to distract you while his arms lifted you to sit on it. Legs opening, you welcomed him to stand between them, pulling him in my his shirt to ensure not even one second of distance between you was allowed.

Your head tilted back almost on its own accord as his lips trailed down your neck, humming into your skin after every kiss and occasional nibble of skin.

"J-Jungkook ... What if someone sees?", your common sense finally made an appearance, though you made no move to stop him.

"No one uses the laundry room here, it's fine. We have the place to ourselves," he breathed out between kisses, making his way back up to your lips.

With a scarily practiced finesse, his tongue snuck its way into your mouth, easing yours into copying his movements. Your resolve wore down quickly after that, following along with every touch of his on your skin. Despite not being one for casual hookups, it was impossible for you to deny the immediate chemistry you'd had with your neighbor. Who would casual sex with your neighbor going to hurt anyway?

His lips soon took your mind away from any further thought on the manner, trailing down your neck while his hands came up to wander under your tank top, tracing your skin with his calloused fingertips as goosebumps began to form. With soft hands and a rough tongue, Jungkook had your brain emptying at a worrying speed, now becoming a shell of yourself with nothing but Jungkook in mind. Just some kisses and some hand action already had you as putty under him, what a shame.

"Can I take this off?", he murmured against your lips, hands itching under your shirt as it rode up due to his movements.

"Mhm," you conceded, your own hands going under his shirt and feeling up the muscular skin of his back.

With your consent, his hands trailed their way back out from under your shirt, reaching down to help you out of it. Underneath was a tiny piece of fabric you could barely call a bralette, doing a terrible job of hiding the goosebumps on your skin or the hardness of your nipples. His tatted hand went up to toy with a clothed breast, murmuring praise against your cheek as he angled his head to look down at your chest. His eyes trailed to yours, finding them empty of any thought and far too wanting of more of his touch.

"How about this?" he practically whispered, one hand on your breast while the other went to toy at the strap of your bralette that had fallen from your shoulder to the meatier part of your arm, fingering at it softly, almost as if teasing whether or not he'd pull it all the way down or not.

"Yes," you almost whimpered, needing the skin-to-skin touch on your chest. Your back was already arched towards his chest, your body pleading him for more without any further words necessary.

He sighed once the job was done, your chest now fully naked for him and the rest of you almost equally as nude. It was only a tiny pair of shorts with some teeny tiny panties underneath that prevented him from your full nudity. In the meantime, he was still fully clothed. But somehow you didn't mind. His touch on your body was enough to keep you satiated. Surely you'd have your turn to enjoy his own nudity later on.

A groan left him upon hastily removing your shorts, now able to feel the heat coming from between your legs through the offensively thin panties you had on. Dragging you from your thighs, he placed you on the edge of the washing machine as he himself pulled down his pants just enough to leave him with boxers and some beaten up tank top. With a huff, he began intermittently connecting your crotches, bumping his hardness against your heat with a grumble. The art of dry humping might've been lost among many, but you were thanking any higher power that Jungkook was not one of the many to disengage with it.

"You're so warm already," he sighed, face pushing its way to your neck, nosing at your scent, "'n smell so fucking good ..."

Your nails dug to the skin of his shoulders, obsessed with the drag of his cock against you. He was hitting that sensitive, swollen spot that bad you wanting to give him a key to your apartment just so he could come over and do it over and over again.

"So fucking soft n pretty," he mumbled, "God, can't believe I got such a pretty little neighbor all to myself," he rambled on and on, "Gonna make you cum like this, okay, gorgeous? Promise I'll give you more next time, just- fuck ... just caught me off guard again's all ..." all his words were slurred, clearly marking the approximation of an early orgasm. What might've been a turn off for many others had your own high approaching just as fast. A hunk of a man such as Jungkook losing himself to mere dry humping? Sign you up!

"Me too," you almost whined, mouth open as you practically drooled at the feeling of that size and girth, excitement growing within you.

"Yeah? God, so fucking good n perfect," the praise was never ending, greatly aiding your impending orgasm.

With one last groan of your name, Jungkook's hips sped up, now dragging you more harshly into him in desperation for his orgasm. It was only a few moments into his own orgasm that you came too, too stimulated from his extensive play with your chest earlier on and simply too wound up to not find release with someone as attractive as he was.

In other circumstances you would've been embarrassed at how easily your body reacted to his own, but Jungkook seemed just as affected, still panting at the exertion his high had taken from him.

"Sorry," he chuckled breathlessly a few moments later, wide boba eyes staring at you with a shy smile, "I don't usually welcome people to the neighborhood by jumping them like that, hah, I hope I didn't overstep," he needlessly apologized as he helped you clean up with nearby towels and aided you in redressing you and himself.

Giggling at him couldn't be helped — he was far too cute. He was the perfect mixture of cuteness and hotness that it made you frustrated if you thought about it for too long.

"Jungkook, I promise you that was a very appreciated welcome," you laughed as you patted his shoulder reassuringly, stepping down from the washing machine.

"Great," he nodded with a smile, though still a but shy, "Let me help you with your laundry now, then? I won't jump you again, I promise."

"Maybe for next time, then?", you attempted to flirt, high fiving yourself internally when you pulled a shy chuckle out of him.

Next time you saw Jungkook was back in your apartment.

Maybe you should've expected him to be on the other side of that door, specially considering you hadn't met anyone else since moving here, but you also hadn't expected him to be so continuously forward.

Within less than a week of being here, you'd met Jungkook, flirted with him, hooked up in the laundry room and proceeded to wash your clothes with his aid — as it turned out, he really was better than the average person at doing laundry. And now, you were curious as to what the next thing to come would be.

After a few knocks on your door, you resumed drying off your hair and walked over to the door, skin still damp and thin robe wrapped around you. Being almost nude, you decided to be smart and look through the peephole before admitting a stranger into your home. Looking through it, you found the one person you'd hoped to see every time you left the apartment; Jungkook.

Had it been anyone else, maybe you would've bothered to ask him for a few minutes in order to get dressed before attending to the door. However, seeing as Jungkook had already seen you almost fully nude, it seemed dumb to do so. That, plus the fact that you were pretty sure how today's visit would go.

"Hey," he said casually when the door was opened.

Donning yet another tank top, the contour of his muscles could be easily seen as he leaned against the frame of the door. A confident and suave smile was on his lips the moment his eyes did a once-over of your body, clearly taking notice of the singular layer of clothing you had on.

"Huh," he hummed, "You're making this too easy for me," he chuckled, letting himself in when you stepped aside to silently welcome him.

"Hello, Jungkook," you ignored him, closing the door behind him, "Are you here to help me unpack?", you questioned upon seeing him approach the few boxes located in your living room and eyeing their contents curiously.

"Yeah. Figured you were taking too long to invite me over, might as well invite myself," he said distractedly, focus all spent on a bunny figurine he found in your boxes, mumbling a quiet 'cute' to himself.

"Let me get dressed and then we can start," you said, beginning to walk to your room while he sat on the floor, beginning to open some boxed furniture you hadn't even bothered to eye since its arrival.

Already in the other room, you heard Jungkook call over before you could close your door, mentioning something about 'You'll end up undressed anyways, but okay,' causing you to chuckle to yourself.

It only took you a few minutes to moisturize and dress yourself in some comfortable loungewear, able to hear Jungkook's ruckus all the way from your room. Despite his slight awkwardness shining through sometimes, he seemed to be a very confident guy, so it made sense to you that he'd made himself at home almost immediately upon his arrival.

Heading back to your living room, you found him sat comfortably on the floor, boxed materials to build what appeared to be a bookshelf laid in front of him while he eyed a manual. Originally, he had implied that his intention to go visit you had been for another hookup, so it amused you that he had actually taken his own words literally and decided to help you out with your furniture.

As you took a seat next to him, you decided to voice out this thought to him, "Wow, you're actually going to help me unpack?" you asked amusedly, hands reaching out to copy the way in which he assembled some pieces together.

He shrugged, "It's the neighborly thing to do," he reasoned, "Plus, the sooner you're unpacked, the sooner we can do more fun stuff."

Despite it being said so casually, it was more than enough encouragement for you to put your mind to the task, knowing that the unexpected help of your hot neighbor was way better than the alternative of getting all your moving in duties done by yourself.

It took about two hours to get done with most of your unpacking, combined with putting together the few pieces of furniture you had bought and neglected to build. The last of it was found in your bedroom in the form of a few boxes of skincare and clothing you'd been too lazy to unbox, opting to instead use whatever you needed at the time and leaving the rest unpacked. Jungkook tutted at you disappointingly at this, lightheartedly scolding you for not simply organizing your stuff as soon as you moved in and revealing to you how organized he was himself.

"Is there any box you want me to stay away from?", he wondered as he rummaged through one of the various boxes you'd moved onto your bed to organize.

"Nope, what do you mean?", you wondered, pulling out a hair dryer and placing it in its rightful spot before walking back over to the bed.

"Well, for instance ..." he trailed off, pulling out a tiny piece of lace you'd forgotten was in the box labeled as 'clothes' Jungkook was currently going through. He gave you an awkward smirk, his mind seemingly battling between being smug at the thong in his hands and affected by the thought of you wearing such a garment.

Immediately, your eyes widened, a gasp trapped in your throat before you jumped at him to grab at the lace, only for him to pull it back with a laugh, now holding it above your reach. You continued to pull at him, letting out an annoyed 'Jungkook!' to express your annoyance, but still laughing at how childish he was behaving.

He let you take hold of the thong after a few more slaps to his hard chest, laughing at your frustration. To prevent your further attacks, he grabbed onto your wrists, deciding to hold you against him as you let go of the panties and paid mind to him instead. Far too casually, he leaned down and trapped you in a soft kiss, humming against your lips as his hands wrapped around your waist and your own went to his shoulders. You damned him in your mind, chastising yourself for how easily it was for you to become entranced by his touch.

"You knew what was in there, didn't you? Hmm? Seductress," he joked against your lips, though the tone of his voice didn't make you laugh, especially not when it was said in an airy whisper between open mouthed kisses.

"Shut up," you grumbled, pulling him closer, unwilling to let the kiss end.

With masterful expertise, Jungkook managed to lay you down on the space of the bed empty of boxes, hands going under your shirt to trace the soft skin of your back. His lips trailed down to your neck and reaching down to the space of your chest not covered by your tank top, grumbling against your skin.

"You smell so nice," he sighed, "So fucking soft too," he continued, not shy in feeling your skin and even breathing you in.

Tuned with you, he disconnected from you to eye you for permission to remove your shirt, dragging it away from your body after a nod of confirmation from you and proceeding to remove his own. Your hands imitated his own, also feeling up his toned body as you continued to kiss. Now leaning atop you, he ground his crotch against your own, groaning into your lips at the basic pleasure he received from it.

"How far do you wanna go?", he murmured as he ground into you, "I'll do whatever you want. I owe you, remember?", he continued, referring to your encounter at the laundry room where he promised to fuck you properly next time.

"Do whatever you want," you replied, looping your lips again, "Just- fuck, do anything," you practically pleaded.

Chuckling, he nodded, opting to lay you down properly, moving aside any boxes that were in the way so you could lay all the way back while he trailed his way down your body, tugging down the tiny shorts you'd opted for a few hours earlier. You sighed at the realization of what was to come, ashamed to admit you'd been wondering how that piercing would feel between your legs.

"So soft here too," he mumbled, kissing up your thighs distractedly, making his way up to that area between your legs that was calling his name, "Fuck, 'n smell so good," his nose practically pressed up against the very thin layer of cloth separating him from your cunt, shamelessly breathing you in as he dragged his nose to press into your clit before pulling away.

A mute whine was pulled out of you, making your thighs attempt to close without much thought, only to make his arms wrap around your legs and pull them in opposite directions in order to separate them. He took a quick moment to pull your underwear down your legs, immediately going back to wrap around your legs to keep a wide enough space for him to enjoy you.

He began tentatively, almost as if testing out how he would go about having you. It only took some encouraging mewls from you for him to really put his heart into it, diving in as his tongue delved into your cunt, moaning against you. He hummed and groaned into your cunt, especially so whenever your hands would pull at his overgrown mullet, pulling him even closer to you. Taking advantage of his large nose, he nosed at your clit while his tongue played with your cunt. Your mewls and the scratching against his scalp should've been more than enough indicator that he had you at the palm of his hand.

"Baby," he moaned against you, refusing to create any distance between you, "you taste so good, fuck," he cried out, as if he were the receiver of the pleasure. But then again, maybe he was — or at least that's the gist you got from the commotion happening under you as the bed bumped with every movement of Jungkook's hips humping against it.

"K-kook, fuck, right the- oh, fuck ... right there!", you cried when his fingers joined in on the equation, tongue focused on your clit while his fingers curled inside you to perfection.

It was embarrassing how soon you felt your orgasm approaching, but you didn't blame yourself, not when a 10 was on his knees, whimpering against your cunt and letting endless muffled praise leave his lips while his tongue refused to let out. You lost control of yourself at some point, unashamed in the way you pushed his face against you, closing your thighs around his head and ground into his face. This only caused a high pitched whine to leave Jungkook, following your silent instruction for more and giving in to you twice as hard.

"Cum, baby. Wanna taste, fuck, please," he pleaded, looking up at you for a quick moment, making your brain leave you entirely at the pretty eyes he was making up at you, practically begging for your orgasm to come.

If you were boneless and defeated before, you were more so now, losing yourself to your orgasm as the pretty boy continued to lick and suck at your release, humming as if he had just been provided the most satiating meal. The humping of his hips never stopped either, only accelerating upon your high and only halting when you'd gone down from it, insisting on pulling him up the bed to claim his lips, wanting to enjoy them while the arousal was still fresh on him.

"God, fuck, you're nasty," he chuckled breathlessly when your tongue quite literally attacked his mouth, insistent on tasting yourself on his lips. This was clearly not a complaint, but more like a happy realization, as Jungkook practically reached down your throat as he tongued at your mouth, providing you with your own taste and moaning endlessly as he did so.

"Did you cum?", you asked between kisses, eyebrows pinched with worry that you wouldn't get to play with him this time around either.

He chuckled, a bit embarrassed, "No, pretty. Almost, though. I can just finish myself off if you're tired or-"

"No!" you interrupted, not shy in reaching down to his still clothed cock, feeling the length through his clothed ad he shuddered, "Let me suck you off? Fair trade, right?", you suggested, wanting nothing more than that size inside you one way or another.

"Oh, you sure? I don't want to force you or anything-"

You interrupted again, gesturing at him to flip you over so he could be under you this time around, "No, Kook. Please? I really want it. Can I have it?", you decided to be a bit mean, playing up the begging under the assumption that a guy like Jungkook would probably enjoy it.

You were right.

"O-oh, okay, beautiful," he rasped, hands in a frenzy to undo his sweats so he could give you access to his dick, "Just, fuck, give me a second. I don't wanna cum right away," he blushed, giving you a sweet peck before leading you to your knees while he sat at the edge of the bed.

With an excited giggle, your hands joined his own to help him lower his pants and boxers just enough to give you access to his length — the same one that had dragged against you until completion just a few days prior. His groan at your touch was immediate, body physically shuddering when you wrapped your hand around it and eyed it with hunger. His hands laid on his thighs, fingers itching as he attempted to hold his reactions back.

"Can I?", you asked, leaning closer to it as your hand remained wrapped around it.

"Yes, just, fuck, don't laugh when I cum too soon," he warned with a whine.

Another giggle left you before finally lowering your head down to his own head, lips wrapping around it and suctioning meanly. With a hum, your tongue lightly licked at the tip, earning a mixture of a groan and a sigh from the man north of you. Your hand remained wrapped around his length, twisting while you tortured the tip with your mouth. To ensure you could really drive him crazy, your other hand joined in, playing at his balls and earning yet another sound of supplication from him.

"G-god, fuck, wait- Don't- Fuck, more, baby, please," he begged, hand shyly going to the back of your head to lightly encourage you to engulf him in your mouth.

"Want my mouth?", you asked as you let go of him, though still lightly licking at the sides of his dick, unwilling to stop teasing for as long as you could help it.

"C'mon, baby. I gave you my mouth, just- Oh, fuck, yes," he sighed when you decided to practically down the majority of his dick, enveloping as much as you could while using your hand to jerk off the small percentage of it that couldn't fit into your mouth.

You decided to show off as much as you could, taking him far enough to gag and pushing through it for as long as possible. The whines and whimpers coming from the man above you were more than enough reward for your efforts.

"F-fuck, you don't have to g-gag, baby, shit, don't force yourself," he panted out, barely able to get those words out without effort. This only encouraged you further, puffing out air from your nose in order to obtain as much oxygen as possible. You knew he wad almost at his end, so you used every asset available to you to break him. You took breaks to breathe every so often, but other than that, you were practically a machine attached to his cock.

"Okay, shit, fuck," he stammered out curses, "Gonna cum, pretty, w-where? In your mouth? Please? Fuck, let me cum in your mouth," he rambled while his hands made a mess of your hair as he attempted to keep it away from your face. His hips also began a slow and shy grind against your face — a barely visible movement but still completely present. It represented his lack of control as you blew his mind away, something which went straight to your core.

You nodded, humming against his dick knowing it'd cause a vibration that'd have him keening for his orgasm. And right you were, as his hands shamelessly pushed your head into his cock without a second thought, clearly too overcome with the pleasure of his orgasm to worry about gagging you with his cum. You, however, took it like a champ, reasoning that within some seconds you'd get to breathe properly again.

"G-god, baby, just like that ... C-cumming, shit" he cried, hips still pushing into your mouth. You wished you could see how his whiny demeanor manifested onto his face — those gorgeous features must've looked breathtaking when pleasure was all he felt.

Finally, you gasped out for air after having swallowed as much as you could manage, with some of it dripping past your lips. Jungkook let himself lay back on the bed to catch his breath while you remained on your knees catching yours.

This lasted very little when Jungkook suddenly decided to use his brute strength to drag you up on the bed, sitting your still wet middle on his flaccid self, pulling you in for yet another tongue-filled kiss. He hummed and moaned and whined as he licked every remnant of his essence from your mouth, causing a similar reaction from you.

After the fact, you shuffled yourself off him and made space on the bed to huddle up to his side, which he welcomed by cocooning you under his arm and pulling you flush against him. It was comfortable and silent for a few moments as you continued catching your breaths and letting the sweat on your bodies transpire — you also made a mental note to invite him to take a shower (with you, maybe).

"You moving in next door was not on my bingo card, but thank fucking god for that," he chuckled after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah? You didn't stalk your previous neighbors for a hookup?", you joked, receiving a devious squeeze of his strong arm in retaliation.

"Shut up," he tutted, "You like that I'm like a dog following you around."

Fair enough.

Silence then took over again, up until the two of you were rested enough and decided to get back to the task at hand — putting furniture together and unpacking anything that was left boxed (though you decided to leave any boxes that may contain panties away from his reach).

It was easy for you to fall into fun conversation with Jungkook, which only led to him staying over for far longer than anticipated, taking up your day and even ordering takeout for you to eat after getting all the grunt work out of the way. A shower was had, though you mutually agreed for no funny business (other than a good ten minutes of making out under the water, but that didn't count in your eyes). Since he lived right next door, he managed to extend his visit up until the last minute, entertaining you more than anything had in the past week of moving in.

One month into your new place and you decided the move was probably one of the best decisions you'd ever made. You'd come to find that Jungkook's old neighbor was not the only old lady living in the building, but that the neighborhood was mostly made up of old people (which, granted, Jungkook had warned you of in passing). That gave to a slightly boring home life, but you liked it better this way. Jungkook being your sole young neighbor was more than enough, specially with how often he went out of his way to seek you out.

After those first two hookups, no time for anything else was really had. This made you embarrassingly needy. The anticipation for finally having actual sex with Jungkook was too much too handle, specially when he'd still occasionally bump into you and catch you off guard with a kiss (which usually led to a make-out far too filthy for the public setting). You'd started your new job a week after moving and Jungkook was occupied by some reason or another, meaning that you'd only really see each other in passing. Although you'd text and keep up with each other, the frustration continued to build up.

The third time you were really able to get Jungkook alone was a little over a month after moving in.

You weren't particularly proud of how it is that you got him back in your apartment, but in your defense, you were ovulating that night and feeling particularly needy. Knowing that Jungkook was a bit of an unserious man, you knew that some pull from you and he'd put everything aside to come crawling. The thought itself made you feel powerful.

With a single 'accidental' text (maybe it was a lewd image, you'll never tell), you began to hear obnoxious knocking on your front door — within seconds of delivery, might you add. Excitedly, you walked over to the door, opening it to find a breathless Jungkook holding up his phone with your conversation pulled up, the incriminating picture taking up his screen.

"You're so mean to me," he managed to say before you pulled him in with a kiss, kicking the door behind you and turning around so he could press you up against the now closed door.

"Mean? I didn't do anything," you feigned between kisses, already lightheaded.

"I've been wanting to come over," he sighed into your lips, trailing down to your neck to catch his breath, "Just been so busy, fuck. If you wanted me so bad, you could've just come visit. I'd drop anything to have you," he continued, unable to unglue his lips from your skin. His hands mirrored his sentiment, grabbing at every curve with a desperation you hadn't seen from him before.

"I thought you were the one that was supposed to be chasing after me?", you joked with a breathless chuckle.

"Sometimes I need a little encouragement, baby. Need to know I'm not just bugging you," he replied as he undressed you almost as if it were second nature to him.

Walking you back into what he knew to be your room, he laid you down, now donning nothing but your panties. He soon after matched your nudity, stripping of his muscle tee and sweats, making his way on top of you as he'd done last time.

"Will you be mad if I fuck you?", he rasped, one hand at your boobs and another rubbing at your cunt through the thin layer covering it.

"You're an idiot," you deadpanned, "I'll be mad if you don't."

Needing no further confirmation, his hand slipped past your panties, rubbing circles on the puffiness of your clit while continuing to kiss you. This didn't last for long, simply being used as an aid to lubricate you with your own wetness as his fingers reached a little souther to smear your slick around while his thumb continued to play with the swollen bud.

Already unclothed, Jungkook took his hand away from you, resulting in a whine from your lips to his and moving his hand onto his own arousal. Jerking himself a few times, he stopped kissing you in favor of leaning back to look down at you while twisting his fist on his dick. After quickly fishing for a condom from his discarded pants, he went back to his previous position, rolling it in while you nagged at him to hurry.

Before actually entering you, of course he had to piss you off one last time by teasing your clit with the tip of his cock, groaning when he felt you flutter beneath him. One kick from you was enough for him to chuckle and finally enter you, groaning in unison with you at the feeling.

"Jesus Christ," you groaned when you felt him begin bottoming out, inch by inch filling you up enough to cause an unknown level of pleasurable pain. You hadn't stopped to think what that size would feel like inside you — or at least as much as he was able to get in.

Above you, Jungkook looked tortured, still and with a wincing look on his face as he waited for the green light to begin moving in and out of you. It took you a few moments longer, nimble fingers digging into the muscles of his arms before you finally nodded at him to move.

"Fuck," he groaned upon finally beginning to pick up a pace, biting his lip and his eyes almost rolled back.

"More," you urged, falling in love with the feeling of him immediately.

Your eyes were crossed, your fingers digging far too painfully into his skin, your legs wrapped around him like a vice, everything was far too intense far too quickly. He obeyed your plea immediately, making matters worse for you, having already been blowing your mind prior but now simply melting it.

"How do you feel this good?", he grunted. His arms reached your thighs, pulling you up a bit to hammer into you at a better angle, "Should've fucked you since that first day, shit. How'd I get such a pretty- fuck, such a pretty girl delivered right to my door?", he went on, sweat building on his skin.

The slapping of skin sped up with the proximity of Jungkook's orgasm, just as yours followed along. His hands were restless, attempting to hold you up while also thirsty to feel every possible inch of your body.

"Please tell me you're close, or else this is going to be really embarrassing for me," he muttered onto your skin.

With a chuckle, you confirmed your incoming high, whining when he finally let himself go and sped up in order to reach his own orgasm, now more relaxed knowing you were right with him.

He let out some uncharacteristically high moans as he filled up the condom, groaning and stilling once he was finally done. You joined him mere seconds later, arching your back and pressing your chest against his own as bliss encompassed you. Despite the sticky sweat covering you both, Jungkook let himself fall against you, pulling out and placing the condom aside momentarily so he could lay beside you while you caught your breath.

In the almost silent room, Jungkook nuzzled against you and kissed the sweaty skin he could reach, hands playing with your hair as he pressed you up against him.

"Would it be bad if I asked you out? Or should I have done that before seducing you in the laundry room?", he wondered out loud, leaving love bites on your neck.

You laughed at how random he could be, appreciating how he spoke his thoughts aloud most of the time, "You can ask me out, I won't bite. Unlike some people," you muttered the last part, giggling when he gave you a slightly harsher bite.

"You like it, don't lie," he muttered, suddenly getting up and dragging you with him despite your whine in negation, "C'mon, we're going to take a shower, have a quickie, and then I'm taking you out for some boba," he decided, using his inhuman strength to pull you up and drag you to your restroom.

"But-"

"C'mon, I've been wanting to ask you out since you moved in, I'm already late," he hushed you, carrying your basically limp body to the restroom with the promise of a fun night, something you did not have it in you (nor did you want to) deny.

to read short 1.6k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my jk monthly tier on patreon!

content: smut, afab reader, oral (f receiving), etc.

wc: 433 (teaser); 1619 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Are you ever going back to your apartment?", you murmured, though it was likely muffled by the large body wrapped around you.

"What, already tired of me?", asked Jungkook as he continued to nose at your skin, a habit you realized he had soon after making things official. He had a sensitive nose, he'd said once, always enjoying the cosmetic products that gave you that floral scent he adored.

After a month of officially dating, Jungkook had become the human manifestation of a leech. It was rare for him to leave tour side whenever you so happened to have free time and would take advantage of the proximity between your apartments.

Being frank, this was something you loved about him. Still in the honeymoon phase, there was nothing better than getting to see your boyfriend at any given time, especially when he was the one seeking you out. He made you feel wanted and like you were a necessity for him, almost as if he had an addiction to you.

That being said, the man just would not leave your apartment.

Now, this wasn't too much of a bother thus far. You liked it, in fact (at least for the most part). He was quite clean while also being laid back, which was a great combination to have in a person who was practically taking on the role of your roommate.

He did, however, prove to become a distraction when it came to your day to day life. You allowed yourself to indulge in his company too much, leading to a huge drop in your productivity.

But what could you do? He was addictive.

"You love having me around, don't lie to yourself," he continued, "What, tired of waking up to head?", he joked, hands making their way under your shirt to cheekily trace your skin.

"Waking up to head?," you asked incredulously, "You woke me up by tickling me, you menace."

He chuckled, adjusting himself on the bed so he could climb on top of you, knees settled on each side of you and hands slowly bringing your top up.

"Okay, fine. Maybe I've been a bad guest. Let me make it up to you?", he grinned, snaking his way down your body until his head was leveled with your stomach, kissing the skin he'd freed just moments prior.

"Better make it worth my while or else I'll start charging you rent for every hour you spend in here."

"I'll move in. Don't threaten me with a good time," he joked, knowing most of his time was spent here with you regardless.

...

find the 18+ continuation on patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

[chocum]

KARMA !

— brat taming the jjk men feat. choso kamo, kento nanami, toji fushiguro.

WARNINGS. femdom!reader, f!reader (she/her), brat taming, cock slaps, crying, handjob, choking, p in v, riding, overstim, lingerie, lollll slotted toji out :33, recording, finger sucking. ( 2k ) note. hellloooooo hope u all enjoy this. i had fun writing bc i loveee the idea of making big strong men crumble mhmhmhm. anywaysss reblogs are appreciated thank youuu love u all. repost bc last night it didn’t show in the tags 💔 but i edited it and added alottt so if you already saw it feel free to read again !! ty

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 CHOSO KAMO

“ma— make m— ooohh fuck. wai—wait” his voice trembled so cutely that it was barely coherent, crumbling into a pretty whine that drowns out his pathetic attempt (if you could even call it that) at being a defiant little brat, making you giggle, your slicked up thumbs pushing and rubbing down on the slit of his leaky tip, sending jolts of pain masked as pleasure up his bony spine, “make you?”

immediately he knows he’s fucked up. the air between you growing thick.

he didn’t know what came over him, really. maybe he had been watching too much porn, fantasizing too much, because the idea of getting tamed by you— god, just the thought of getting put in his place, turned him on so much. so, so much.

but having to actually disobey you, he couldn’t. he believes he was only put on this earth to serve you and please you. to be good. his head hurriedly shakes side to side, making each strand of ravened silky hair jump and dance before resting to frame his flushed face, “‘m sorry didn’t me—”

you land a heavy, hard slap to his cock, the sound pounding in his flushed ears blending with the beat of his heart, making his body tense up and jerk underneath you. his breaths come out in ragged little gasps, each one such a struggle as his fuzzy brain short circuits under your warm palms.

it really is cute, you think. cute how easy it is to break him. the pretty tears that drip down his puffed-up, blushed cheeks remind you of that. he’s choking on his sobs when you move to cup his face and kiss the corners of his eyes, and his cheeks. crying and sniffling because he hates when you’re mad. hates disappointing you.

“‘m sorry, i don’t— just wanna be so good for you. i’ll be— wanna be your good boy.”

“i know,” you coo, petting him like the pretty pet he is, “wanna try again for me, hm?”

and oh, he’s nodding so sweetly, cock throbbing for you, his big glassy eyes heart-shaped, staring up. so ready to be yours, ready to be the good boy you’ve trained him to be.

so you tell him again, “fuck my fists, make yourself cum, pretty boy. and look me in my eyes.”

his hips buck up, the salty tears on his cheeks warming and dried as he uses your sticky hands like a fleshlight, whining prettily when you tighten your grip around him, “‘m sorry” he babbles over and over, drooling out the corners of his parted puffy lips.

he’s so good. staring into the blown pupils of your pretty eyes without fault, like you told him to. because you told him to.

and his thighs burn, his legs shaking and trembling against the silky sheets as he gets closer and closer. the pain almost urging him on, “are you gonna cum for me? baby? gonna give it all to me hm?”

“yes, ple— please. please, can i cum can—”

you pull your hands off him.

drawing out the prettiest whine to ever be heard. like a song of the angels. his head falling back against the wooden headboard, hips bucking up in search of something to ease the ache that overwhelms in his tummy. those hot tears making a special reappearance.

“aww baby,” you hum, feigning sympathy, massaging his warm— full, heavy balls, “did you really think you’d get to cum after that, hm? did you?”

his eyes widen in desperation, disappointment. he tries to speak, to plead, to beg, but all that comes out are broken little sobs and whimpers.

the look on his face is almost pitiful. furrowed brows, pout, and his mouth hangs open.

you bend to lean in closer, your breath so warm against the shell of his sensitive ear, “you have to earn it, baby. good boys get rewarded. brats get punished.”

for you, he nods weakly, his voice barely a whisper as he chokes, “i’ll be so good, pro— promise. please, let me cum. let me show you how good i am”

so pretty. your fingers slip down to massage his aching balls, applying just enough pressure to keep him on that edge he loves to dangle over without giving him the sweet, sweet release he craves. “nuh uh, not yet,” you hum softly, your tone both firm but oh so gentle. “show me how much you want it.”

his hips buck up involuntarily, humping the air in search of your grip— relief, eyes locking onto yours, colored irises filled with adoration. he’s completely at your mercy, every nerve and ending in his body on fire, every muscle tensed up in anticipation.

and you can see the struggle in his eyes. it’s really a beautiful sight, and you savor every moment of it. “that’s it,” mumuring, “keep looking at me like that. show me how much you need it.”

his breaths come in short little, ragged gasps, his chest heaving and caving, thighs burning from fucking the air.

but finally, after what feels like an eternity, you decide to grant him some mercy, your hands moving back around his throbbing cock, stroking him just how he likes it, “cum for me, pretty boy,” you command, a soft, seductive purr. “give it all to me.”

with a strangled, gargled cry, he obeys. his body convulsing, every muscle tightening as he finally, finally finds his release, his cum spilling all over your hands in thick, hot, sticky spurts. and he’s so obedient, his eyes remaining locked on yours, even as his vision blurs and fuzes with pleasure.

“there you go,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “such a good boy.”

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 KENTO NANAMI

the tie that usually wrapped snug around the collar of nanami’s shirt adding that signature pop of yellow to his suits now decorates his flushed neck, constricting it, the tail of it clutched tightly in your fists as you ride his cock, your hips rolling and jerking against him relentlessly.

thick cum drips down to his balls, pooling underneath him, a swirl of your mess and his. he’s cum two–no, four? he doesn’t even know how many loads he’s stuffed into your warm cunt— or how many you’ve forced and sucked out of him, his cock so sensitive it fucking hurts, every time you snap back down on him sending poky jolts of overstimulation through his entire body.

“fu—fuck, honey, please. i don’t have— ngh— don’t have anything left to give. fuckin’ drained me already— can’t—”

you tug on the silky fabric, making him choke on his words, gargling on warm, foamy spit. his hands reaching to grab at the curve of your waist, but he’s flinching, remembering how you said, no touching. remembering why he’s in the position in the first place.

because he doesn’t listen.

refused to keep his hands to himself, your body begging to be touched, in his words. as if he didn’t take you seriously, just kept grabbing at you, digging his slim fingers into your plush skin.

so, obviously, there’s some sort of misunderstanding .. some sort of disconnect. he must have forgotten who was in charge.

you don’t even give him a response, ignoring the prickly burn in your thighs to fuck him dumb. maybe then, ironically, he’ll learn how to act. each jerk of your hips move to push him further to the edge, to remind him of his place.

his body is weak, just sitting pretty, twitchy, letting you do as you please, sweetly hiccuping under your frame, “hah— please, my fucking god i— i’m sorry” he’s all gone and sucked up, cock crying, drooling pathetic tears of salty cum in your cruel walls. sweat peppering his forehead, slicking the ridges of his chest, making him glisten.

“please, i’m fucking begging i’ll— hah, won’t disobey you again. i’ll— i’ll be good. i’ll be yours”

aw, there it is.

and you hum, stilling your hips, letting his cock fill you all the way up, “mhm that’s all i needed to hear. now give me onee more load. just one. know you can do it pretty boy, give it to me”

even though his body is spent, just the true definition of exhaustion, he responds, his pretty cock twitching inside you as he drags against his own warm cum in your spongy walls. and it doesn’t take long before he’s giving into you. balls so empty, just a few little spurts drooling out, but it feels just as intense, maybe even more than any of his other orgasms. “good boy”

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 TOJI FUSHIGURO

“toj’ my pretty boy” your finger draws across the pink lacy lingerie that does a pathetic job of covering his cock. poking out, leaking and drooling all over the fabric, almost ripping through it with just how hard he is, “you look so good like this”

he grunts, blush growing across his cheeks, a deep, deep crimson, turning his head to avoid your gaze, avoid your phone brightly flashing, recording him.

“so hard too, aw” mumuring, you move closer, recording every detail of how he bulges through the set you so perfectly picked out for him. the pink complementing his tanned skin so well, truly a work of art “touch yourself for me”

another grunt escapes his lips, and he’s fidgeting, dragging his balls against the bed, rutting like a fucking dog, pulling at the ropes that hold and confine him, caging him against himself, “need your ..”

“yeah, need what?” you prompt with a smile, watching through your screen how he struggles to say it, pouting as his brows furrow up.

“need your help”

theres a wicked little glint in your eyes, pulling back at the stretchy band of the pretty underwear, letting go so it snaps back against the sensitive underside of his thick cock, making him whine, his broad body shaking and twitching, muscles clenching up.

humming, you bring your palm to his face, telling him to lick, and he listens, immediately.

licking a long stripe up your warm palm, but oh, he gets carried away. stretching to wrap his scarred lips around your fingers, bobbing his head up and down, drool dripping down from around his pursed lips, letting his tongue lay flat. “look at you, so eager”

he comes off with a pop, smirking because he knows you love when he’s so good like this for you.

you press your slick fingers against his covered perky nipples, watching as he twitched, before moving to stoke him through the pretty lingerie, “don’t fu—fucking tease”

you ignore him, let him get away with the little back talk because he just looks toooo cute, eyes all big, looking up into the flash of the camera, leaking through the lingerie like such a pretty boy. all for you.

you flick your wrist faster, leaning to spit on his clothed cock, sending thousands of shivers up the nerves on his spine, making him croon, his ass raising up off the bed to buck into your palms, giving the camera such a good show.

“gonna cum, shit— i’m so close. fuck— please”

he’s babbling, his voice all high and whiney.

“mhm go ahead, baby”

with a final, desperate thrust, he’s shooting against the fabric, babbling your name as it oozes through making a sticky little mess before you’re leaning down to lap at his clad tip. to clean him up.

then you come off him, stopping the video. and tojis looking up at you through glassy eyes as you press against your phone, smiling.

“what— hah, what are you doing”

“sending it to shiu”

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: KISS & MAKE UP

✩ ‧ ˚. streamer!au: after the breakup, you two decide to make up in the traditional way—by having sex! NSFW

contents: fem!reader. oral (f. recieving), p –> v, teasing, praise, hair pulling (m. recieving), missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, use of pet names (too many to list here). not proofread bc you couldn't pay me to read all this again. 2.5k words. read this fic beforehand for better understanding of the context, but you don't have to.

author's note: tumblr hates me and that's why the banner quality's trash. if u wanna see the details, click here. anyways the streamer!gojo smut has finally arrived, tagging @satorena @screampied @cultrise, enjoyyy ;)

“did you tell them we’re back together?”

satoru nods in response to your question, plopping down on the couch next to you. he's spent the last hour chatting with his stream, and eventually he broke the news that you and him were back together after the breakup.

“yeah, i did,” he confirms, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. your hands automatically move to his hair and you thread your fingers through the soft white strands, pausing after a couple seconds to give him a quick kiss on the forehead.

a week ago, you and satoru had an admittedly messy breakup—not messy in the sense that it got toxic or dramatic, but messy in the way that it could’ve easily been avoided. it wasn’t that big of a deal, but thankfully, you and satoru resolved your misunderstanding within a relatively short time.

since then, things have been a little different—satoru’s been taking a break from streaming, which gave him move time to spend with you and away from his thousands of fans. it was his suggestion, and not surprisingly, it worked. but all good things have to come to an end, and your “honeymoon” away from satoru’s stream seems to be coming to a close.

“something smells good,” satoru notes, lifting his head and glancing at the kitchen. “wait, is that ramen?” your boyfriend gasps, eyes rounding as he looks at you hopefully. 

“yeah, you said you were craving it, so i made some,” you reply with a smile, untangling yourself from his arms and walking over to the kitchen. satoru blows you a flurry of kisses that you see out of the corner of your eye as you check on the ramen, which looks pretty much done.

“y’know, i still haven’t forgiven you for the shit you pulled last week,” you say dryly, turning off the stove and draining the water from the ramen into your sink. the steam rises up as the boiling water slips down into the drain, clouding your face for a moment before it dissipates into thin air. 

“...does that mean i don’t get to eat that ramen?” satoru asks tentatively, a nervous smile on his lips as you empty a packet of flavored powder into the ramen. you shoot him a look and raise an eyebrow, turning back to the stove to hide your smile.

“maybe, maybe not,” you reply coyly, not wanting to give in too soon.

“boo, you whore.”

you roll your eyes and divide the ramen into two bowls, one for you and one for your boyfriend. “you’re lucky i’m too nice to let you starve, regina,” you say pointedly, walking back over to the couch and handing one of the bowls to him, which satoru takes with both hands—a habit from his childhood that never went away. “otherwise you’d be—”

satoru cuts you off by poking your lips with his chopsticks, steaming hot ramen wrapped around them. you reluctantly open your mouth and let him feed you, smiling when he seals the bite with a kiss. 

“best girlfriend ever,” satoru proclaims when he pulls away, a lazy smile playing on his lips. his soft blue eyes study your own, observing your unusually guarded expression and frowning.

“how many times do i gotta apologize for my bullshit before you stop making that face at me?” he grumbles, twirling his chopsticks in his bowl and taking a bite of the ramen. it’s cute how satoru’s face lights up at the taste, and it’s even cuter how his eyes round at you in awe when he takes another bite. “i didn’t know instant ramen could be this good,” he muses, licking any lingering flavor off of his lips.

“very funny, satoru,” you laugh, swirling your chopsticks around the broth and watching the rest of the steam rise from your bowl. “and to answer your question, i don’t really know.”

satoru tilts his head and takes a sip of his water, ice clinking against the side of the glass. when you respond to his question, he pauses and tilts his head in confusion. “...wait, what does that mean?”

you think for a second, choosing your words carefully. “i’m not sure how long it’ll take until we’re back to… normal,” you say cautiously. in all honesty, you weren’t that pissed off at him—you never were. but the fact that satoru was so ready to throw your relationship away over something as small as that was upsetting, to say the least. and you weren’t entirely sure it wouldn’t happen again.

satoru looks at you thoughtfully, more serious than you’ve seen him in a while. you can almost see the gears turning in his head before he replies. “any idea how i can make it up to you?”

you shrug, swallowing another bite of ramen before you meet his eyes. “you tell me. actions speak louder than words.”

your boyfriend drops his chopsticks, letting them clatter around in the bowl before he stands up. he extends a hand to you, a determined glint in his eye. “then lemme prove it to you.”

“satoru, you can’t bribe me with sex.”

“that’s not all i’ll be doing, sweetheart. trust me.”

and that’s how you ended up in his room, hands tangled in satoru’s soft white hair as he eats you out. his tongue laps at your cunt with quick, kitten-like strokes, and he presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh. “feels s’good, satoru,” you breathe, involuntarily tugging on his hair and dragging out a groan from his lips. “sorry—”

“don’t apologize,” satoru mumbles in reply, nose brushing against your dripping thighs as his tongue slips past your folds and goes in deeper. he looks up and locks eyes with you, unable to resist smiling at the way your legs tremble around him. “aw, you’re so fuckin’ cute,” he murmurs, flicking his tongue in and out of your cunt with a grin. “and i’m the one who should be—fuck, you’re gorgeous—apologizing.”

this isn’t the first time satoru’s eaten you out, but it feels like it every single time—somehow, his tongue has a talent of rendering you unable to focus on anything else but him. you grind your hips against satoru’s face, eyes squinted shut as your boyfriend flattens his tongue before lapping your slick up with cloudy eyes. “shit, i don’t know what i’d be without you,” he murmurs, voice low and steady—and something about his tone makes you certain he’s being completely honest with you.

“you’re so—fuck, satoru, i’m gonna cum,” you breathe, back automatically arching when satoru’s tongue reaches that spot inside you. he laughs, and the vibration of the soft sound against your puffy, sensitive cunt almost makes your legs give out—but thankfully, satoru’s hands are secured around your thighs, holding you in place. “‘toru, i can’t—”

“yeah, y’can, just relax that pretty pussy for me,” he cooes, licking up the slick dripping down his chin. “c’mon, you’re doing so good f’me, keep going, baby.” and just like that, his tongue slips out of your cunt and he lets you cum—the sheer force of your orgasm hits you like a truck, and your hips roll against satoru’s face in a choppy rhythm as you desperately ride it out, hands gripping and accidentally yanking his hair.

you stutter out his name a couple more times, unable to focus on anything but the feeling of satoru’s mouth on your sensitive, gushing pussy. your boyfriend praises you the whole way, gently murmuring soft words about how sweet you are for letting him taste you, even while your relationship was rocky. when your voice steadies enough for satoru to make out what you’re begging him to do, he’s not at all surprised to hear you plea for him to fuck you—so stands up and tugs you down onto his bed, hand intertwined with yours as he pulls the sheets over your bodies. 

you squeeze satoru’s hand and lean in to kiss him, chest still heaving from your earlier orgasm. naturally, you miss his lips and end up kissing the side of his face, which is flushed bright red from the way his body reacts to the taste of your pussy. “don’t ever leave me like that again,” you whisper, tears pricking at your eyes for some reason—maybe it’s the lovesick way satoru looks at you, or maybe it’s the way he’s holding onto you like there’s no place he’d rather be.

“i won’t,” satoru promises, pressing an affectionate kiss to your forehead and pulling your head into his chest. his lips touch the top of your head as he murmurs, “and if i do, shoot me.” it sounds like a joke, but you both know that he’s dead serious.

“good thing i won’t have to do that,” you say with a soft giggle. your smile is heart-achingly familiar to satoru, and it feels like home—and that’s the realization that has him stripping off what little clothing the two of you still have on before he climbs on top of you. 

satoru touches the tip of his dick to your pussy, waiting for your nod to allow him to go in all the way. after a second, you dip your chin and trail your fingers down satoru’s jaw, grabbing his chin and pulling him down into another kiss. his lips linger for a couple seconds, still-minty breath tickling your face, before he pulls away. satoru slowly lowers his hips and nudges his dick inside of your desperate cunt, hands resting on either side of you.

even though it’s only been a little over a week since you last had sex with satoru, it feels like it’s been forever—your boyfriend curses when he feels how tight you are, mumbling something about missing you “so fucking much” as he goes in deeper and deeper. it hurts a little at first, but you quickly get used to the feeling of him inside of you. 

“fuckin’ hell, i’m never gonna get tired of this,” satoru breathes, dipping his head and kissing your collarbone. a single drop of sweat drips down the side of his face as he watches you squirm, eyes soft and endearing as you do so. he starts rolling his hips back and forth against you to loosen you up a little, dragging out soft moans from you as he does so. 

“yeah, you better not,” you mutter, tilting your head back and drawing in a long breath of air. you can’t remember the last time you felt this good—maybe it was the last time satoru fucked you. “satoru, y’re going so slow—”

your boyfriend cuts you off with a particularly harsh thrust, making your body jolt against his mattress. satoru lifts his head and looks you in the eye, a breathy laugh slipping out of him when he sees the pout on your lips. “the fuck you mean, i’m going slow? you want me to tear you apart? silly girl,” he tuts, back to his usual cocky self. he shakes his head and goes deep enough in you to force you to arch your back, starting to grin at the way you paw at his chest. “always so selfish, aren’t you?” he cooes, dipping his head and giving you a sloppy kiss on the forehead. “but you’re always—so—fuckin’—sweet,” satoru whispers, punctuating each word with a thrust hard enough for you to moan out his name more times than you can count.

“you’re the selfish one,” you mumble, lips trembling enough to muffle your voice. satoru huffs out a sigh and kisses your mouth, teeth gently brushing against your bottom lip. “you broke up with me for no reason,” you continue, tears pricking at your eyes again. “you think i’m gonna forgive you this fast?” 

satoru shakes his head again and caresses the side of your face. “will you?” he asks, slowing his pace enough for you to notice. you mutter something about him edging you on purpose, to which satoru shushes you and repeats his question.

“maybe.”

“you gotta stop giving me maybe’s, baby—y’re drivin’ me crazy here.”

in the past week, satoru’s done so much for you, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed. on the day after your breakup, he picked you up from your house and took you for a picnic entirely curated by him. on the second day, he made you breakfast, lunch and dinner—it wasn’t the best food you ever had, but it was definitely the most memorable (in more ways than one). on the third day, he took you out to your favorite amusement park and did everything he could to make you smile—by then, you had pretty much forgiven him, and the giant teddy bear he dropped in your bedroom only made you love him more. the rest of the days were filled with longing glances and little gifts left around your house, which only helped him earn more and more of you back.

so, you figure that satoru deserves what comes next.

“okay,” you whisper. 

satoru’s eyes widen and he hesitates before he tentatively asks, “does this mean—”

you don’t let him finish his question, instead grabbing his face and tugging him down into a full kiss. he lets out a soft hm? in surprise, but kisses you back more than gratefully. “c’mon, make me cum,” you breathe when he finally pulls away. satoru nods dazedly and mouths “i love you” before he goes back in you, pace faster than before.

one of his hands snakes down to your waist, holding it in pace while the other caresses your face. you gaze up at him with a soft smile, eyes fluttering open and closed every time his dick hits your sweet spot—which is more times than your body can handle, but you welcome the feeling of him deep inside of you. after barely a couple thrusts, a coil forms in your stomach, growing tighter and tighter with each movement of satoru’s hips. 

satoru laughs, chest heaving as he grins down at you cheekily. “i knew you’d forgive me,” he murmurs, pinching your cheek affectionately. “m’ so sorry—”

“shut up and fuck me,” you interrupt, tongue starting to loll out of your mouth as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to cumming all over satoru’s dick. 

“as you wish, princess.”

satoru’s breathing slowly changes, becoming more choppy and uneven the closer you watch him get to his high—it’s so, so close for both of you, and when it comes, it takes over both of your minds like a drug. satoru curses and groans out your name, thrusts growing sloppy as he desperately rides out his orgasm. cum shoots out from his dick and coats the inside of your cunt white, dripping out once you physically can’t take any more.

you run your hands all over satoru’s body, clawing and gripping at every inch of skin you can latch onto—satoru’s always been your anchor, and you hope that he always will be. one of his hands leaves the side of your face and tangles with your fingers, holding it down against the mattress as he promises to never screw you over like that again, and you’re only too welcoming to him and his words as you squirt all over his dick. “fuck, satoru—”

he lifts his eyes and meets your own, and unlike you, his vision is clearer than ever. “shoot me if i ever leave you again, baby. i’m serious.”

you raise a shaky hand and touch the side of his face, eyes fluttering shut as you murmur, “i know i won’t have to.”