#he looks like he should be from Mean Girls

[angelltheninth]

Love your LADS writings! Could we maybe get them reacting to their girlfriend wearing their shirt?

I love writing for LADS, now that Caleb is here there's even more hot men to fawn over.

Pining: Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, sharing clothes, domestic fluff, clothes shopping, possessiveness, being playful, flirting

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Wrote this a bit fast because my new PC came in today so I need to set it up. It's gonna be awesome.

Zayne pretends not to notice that it's his shirt you're always wearing in the mornings when you stay over at his place. It's only a shirt, he's got many more just like it. So why is it getting to him when you wear it? Simple, it looks cuter on you, and he tries not to get worked up about it, that would go against his stoic, professional self. However when he sees you waring his clothes he always tells you that it looks good on you. A sort of subltle encouragement that you should do it more often, and also spend more time at his place because he tries not to leave his clothes at your place.

Rafayel wants to buy some matching clothes when he saw that you wear his on ocassion. He's always had a good sense of style and is very happy that you do to, furthermore that you like it so much that you want to wear what he waers. When he sees you wearing his clothes he makes sure to memorize what it looked like on you so he can sketch it later. Before he knows it there are a dozen sketches of you in his clothes. Not that it's a bad thing by any means and he thinks you're catching on to him buying matching clothes because every time you're on a date you're pointing out cute outfits that you say would look great on him.

Xavier doesn't think much of it when he leaves some of his stuff at your place when he comes and goes. What he does think about is how his pants looked on you, too long, cozy, some a bit tight on you, others hanging off your hips, all depending on what you get your hands on at the time. The scene is almost domestic, seeing you not even think about putting on something of his, you don't even say why you do it and he's fascinated by that. Playfuly he tugs on the waistband of the pants and tells you he wants them back, only for you to turn the tables and tell him to take them off you if he wants them so bad.

Sylus is very perceptive of what you do when you're around him so there's no way he wouldn't notice you wearing his fancy shirts around the apartment. Those aren't exactly outfits for casual wear so there was no way you could have mistaken them for one of your own, which means you took them on purpouse. A man like him doesn't do well when other people touch what belongs to him without his permission. It's bad bussiness practice, and dangerous when you're in deep with criminals like he is. But he could be persuaded to let you get away with it, only because you're his girl and his girl can do whatever she wants with and to him.

Caleb leaves his hoodie at your place on purpouse. He did it because he wanted to use it as an excuse to visit again early, he didn't expect that you'd be wearing it when you opened the door for him. All the blood rushed to his brain and caused him to stop all train of thought for a few moments before he smirked and leaned in to whisper how cute you look, his breath hot against your lips before he claimed them in a seering kiss. From that day on he never mentioned anything about you giving him his clothes back. Why would he want it back when it looks so much better on you, sometimes it's all you wear around him.

[pureomi]

˚୨୧⋆｡🍓˚ she see money all around me, i look like i'm the man

includes: itoshi sae x fem! reader. 0.8k wc. fluff.

a/n: provider sae, we all cheered !! inspired by that one tiktok trend lol

not much grabs itoshi sae's attention, so you have to get creative.

"sae, i can't help pay rent this month." even though he doesn't glance away from the computer screen, the twitch on his face is obvious. the furrowed brows, his fingers coming to a halt on the keyboard, the imaginary question mark brewing over his head—all of it subtle but still priceless.

to be fair, he doesn't even recall being this confused when his parents agreed to send him abroad at the ripe age of thirteen—that too, all by himself!

for someone as strict as itoshi sae, he should receive an award for how quickly he paused his work to simply process whatever the fuck just came out of your mouth. "you can't, what?" he finally says, still keeping his gaze focused on the screen.

this is harder than you thought. not the pranking part; the holding in your laughter part. you somehow manage to keep it in for the sake of the bit.

"yeah, i just don't have the money to help you pay our rent this month," you continue, further emphasizing your dilemma (knowing damn well it doesn’t exist) awaiting his reaction.

but of course, your prank backfires spectacularly. the dramatic reaction you were hoping for? nowhere to be found. instead, he just crosses his arms and finally turns his chair to stare at you like you're the ridiculous one in this scenario. sae leans back in his chair, letting linger another one of those infuriatingly calm looks that make you want to simultaneously throw something at him and admire how annoyingly composed he is. "i know?" he claimed, neutrally, with a quirk of his brow like...duhh?

he continued, not even trying to be offensive, just merely stating the facts he has gathered living with you over the years. "when have you ever paid rent?"

…why would you?

he’s suddenly wondering if, overnight, you forgot you’re itoshi sae’s girl. hell, he doesn’t even let you pay for something as little as webtoon coins—hence why he made sure his card info was saved on your phone. rent was too far of a stretch to claim, even as a joke, and you know this too.

with how adamant sae is, the world could collapse before he let you contribute a single penny.

but damn, did that make it make it hard for you to continue this act.

you open your mouth to say something, anything, to salvage the prank, but your brain is running on a blank slate. "i mean," you clear your throat, trying to recover. "it’s about the…principle? you know, of financial responsibility and, um—" sae tilts his head, looking wholly unimpressed. "do you even know how much rent is?" your mouth opens. closes. he waits. you scramble. "well, yeah, of course, i—" "how much?" he asks, deadpan. your lips part, but the number? nowhere to be found. you had not, at any point in your life, thought to ask. sae quirks a brow, clearly entertained by your pathetic attempt to keep going. he rests his chin in his palm, watching you struggle with the kind of calm that makes it painfully obvious he’s enjoying this. "you were saying?" he prompts, his voice laced with amusement. you huff, cheeks growing warm. "forget it. you ruined it." but before you can even sulk properly, sae reaches forward and hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you in with zero effort. a yelp escapes you as he shifts you into his lap, securing you there with both arms now locked around you. your heart does this stupid little thing where it stumbles over itself because you can feel the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his breathing, and—oh god—the way his lips are ridiculously close to your ear. "did i? or did you just get caught?" he murmurs, voice low and entirely too smug. "you—!" your hands instinctively grab onto his shoulders, trying to put some space between you two, but he doesn't let you. if anything, he picks you up to place you fully against his chest. "go on, finish your little act," he challenges, lips curling into a smirk. you glare at him, ignoring the rapid pounding of your heart. "i hate you." "yeah?" his voice is a quiet hum, teasing, daring you to keep going. "i guess that’s what i get for absolutely spoiling the shit out of my girlfriend." you pout, trying to look annoyed, but your resistance fades as you sink into his arms.

instead of staying smug, sae softens his grip just a little, his tone becoming more serious. "i take care of what’s mine, so don’t bother pulling tricks on me before you empty my bank account."

"do you understand?" he continues, his voice low and steady as he presses a gentle kiss to your temple. the softness of the gesture contrasts with the firmness of his words, leaving you to wonder how he always manages to make you this flustered every time. all you can do is just nod, giving in to the fact that your boyfriend is a rich snob who always gets his way—one you’re completely obsessed with, no less. seriously, what are you gonna do with him? 🤍

[toshisdecadence]

What A Woman Wants

PAIRING: dilf!toji fushiguro x rich girl!fem reader

TAGS & WARNINGS: dark content, dubcon, age gap (reader is in college, toji is in his forties), unprotected sex, implied infidelity, slight angst, implied virgin!reader, cherry popping (read: exterminating), manhandling, rough sex, mirror sex, hair pulling, oral sex (f receiving), degradation, choking, spitting, fingering, obscene dirty talk, creampies, dumbification, overstimulation, dacryphilia, marathon sex, size kink, size difference, stomach bulge, cervix mentions, doggy, mating press, missionary, referenced public sex, referenced quickies, referenced phone sex and sexting, smoking, alcohol consumption

WORD COUNT: 15.2k

SUMMARY: You find yourself tangled in an intense affair with the last man you should ever want—Toji Fushiguro, broke, rugged, and utterly irresistible.

© toshisdecadence

Toji Fushiguro—a single dad, financially struggling, with a bare apartment and rugged disposition—seemed to unite some of the worst misfortunes in existence; and had lived nearly 42 years with many things that distressed and vexed him.

His life had been far from ideal, but he tried his best. Well, as good as “best” could be. If it was just him, Toji would’ve just fucked off to some other dump. But he wasn’t. He had Megumi, his only son. A son he was barely a father to, admittedly, but Toji never claimed to be a model parent.

A skill that Toji had picked up from his shitty four decades of living was the ability to read people off the bat. Their body language. Demeanor. Way of speaking. The way they held their gaze. He could tell when a person had never experienced any form of hardship.

You were one such person. Toji could smell it from the moment you emerged behind Megumi’s back, dressed in a pretty white ensemble that no doubt cost one of his paychecks.

You’d shown up to Megumi’s apartment with a practiced ease that screamed entitlement—not the loud, obnoxious kind, but the subtle sort that came from never having to second-guess whether the world would open its doors for you. You carried yourself like someone who’d never been told “no” in a way that actually mattered.

Toji noticed it right away.

It wasn’t just the clothes—though the crisp linen blouse that clung to your figure and understated pearl earrings definitely told a story. It was the way you lingered in the doorway without stepping aside, as if the worn-out carpet and cheap furniture might rub off on you. The slight wrinkle of your nose, almost imperceptible, quickly smoothed over when Megumi introduced you. The polite, pretty smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Yeah, Toji knew your type.

He leaned back against the raggedy, saggy couch, sprawled out in a way that was equal parts lazy and deliberate. He’d learned a long time ago that people like you hated men like him. Men who didn’t clean up well, who didn’t pretend to be better than what they were. He let his gaze drag over you just long enough to make you shift uncomfortably.

“Didn’t know Megumi had friends like you,” Toji said, voice low and rough around the edges.

You arched a perfectly manicured brow, the polished kind of expression that said you weren’t easily rattled. “Like me?”

“Yeah.” He took his time lighting a cigarette, even though Megumi’s annoyed glare told him not to. He liked pushing buttons, liked seeing how far people could bend before they snapped. “The kind who looks out of place here.”

The corner of your mouth twitched, caught somewhere between irritation and amusement. Your voice remained even as you replied, “And what kind is that?”

Toji smirked, slow and mean, the scar running through the corner of his mouth making it almost look like a sneer. He exhaled smoke in your direction, earning a furrow of your brow. “The kind who thinks this shithole’s beneath her.”

“Dad, could you not?” Megumi groaned, intercepting the exchange.

Toji simply shrugged, lazily letting his gaze trail from his son to you.

You stared at him, your expression controlled. If anything, you looked amused.

The tension sat heavy between you, like a tug-of-war where neither side wanted to flinch first. Toji could see the war in your eyes. The same kind he saw in all the women who thought they were too good for him but still couldn’t stop looking.

Before either of you could push further, Megumi came back into the room, breaking the moment. Toji watched the mask slip back into place as easily as it had fallen. Polished, perfect, untouchable.

“Then, excuse me, Mr. Fushiguro,” you said, smiling politely.

He leaned back against the couch, cigarette dangling from his lips, and let his gaze follow you as you walked behind Megumi in tow. Toji appreciated the view. Prissy as he thought you were, you sure are one pretty woman.

And then you looked back over your shoulder, meeting his gaze with an unreadable expression.

Yeah, this was going to be fun.

You spotted him by accident.

The streets of downtown gleamed under the afternoon sun, polished storefronts and valet stations lining the walkways. The sun almost made the pavement shimmer a blinding white. It was your kind of area. Clean, expensive, and carefully curated to keep out the riffraff. Which is why Toji Fushiguro stuck out like a sore thumb.

He was leaning against the faded green truck parked half on the curb, the black sleeves of his sweater rolled up to his forearms, cigarette dangling between his lips as if he had all the time in the world. The smoke curled around him, blending with the faint scent of engine oil and sweat that seemed to follow him.

You almost didn’t recognize him without that thin black t-shirt clinging to the kind of frame belonging to a man in his forties. But the moment he turned and locked eyes with you, the unmistakable scar on his lips twisting as his lips spread into a lazy smirk, you knew exactly who he was.

“Mr. Fushiguro,” you greeted, lips tightening into a strained smile.

Toji raised an eyebrow. “That’s a new one. Didn’t think you’d bother pretending to be polite.”

You stopped a few feet away, your hand gripping the strap of your leather designer bag from sliding down your shoulder. “I’m polite when I need to be.”

“And this is you needing to be polite?” He blew out a puff of smoke, eyes dragging over you appreciatively like he was appraising something valuable—lingering a moment too long on your legs before flicking back up to meet your stern gaze. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“You’re blocking the valet lane,” you said, voice steady.

Toji glanced at the painted curb, then back at you without moving an inch. “Think they’ll survive.”

“Bold of you to assume they won’t tow that thing.”

His grin widened. “Bold of you to assume I’d care.”

The words might have hit harder if his eyes hadn’t been pinned to you the entire time. Steady, calculating, like he was waiting to see whether you’d crack under the weight of his gaze. But you didn’t. You’d dealt with enough men to know how to handle it.

“Well,” you said lightly, your hands loosening around the strap of your bag, “tell Megumi I said hi.”

“Sure,” he said, but he didn’t make a motion to move, the cigarette burning down between his fingers. “You sticking around?”

The question should’ve sounded casual, but it didn’t. It hung there, thick and heavy.

“Just passing through.”

“Figures.” He exhaled slowly, eyes never leaving yours. “Guess I’ll let you get back to swiping that platinum card of yours.”

The corner of your mouth twitched, but you didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, you smiled sweetly, stepping closer just long enough to brush past him and murmur, “Have a good rest of your day, Mr. Fushiguro.”

He took a long drag of his cigarette, eyes roaming over you in a way that felt deliberate—lingering on the contours of your face, your lips, the slope of your bare shoulders—before flicking back to your face.

“Call me Toji.”

“I’ll stick with Mr. Fushiguro.”

Your smile was as sharp as your words, but he didn’t flinch. If anything, his grin deepened, slow and wolfish. With a polite bow of your pretty head, you walked away with your head high and your heels clicking against the pavement.

You didn’t expect Toji to show up.

It was supposed to be a quiet dinner between friends. Just you and Megumi, grabbing food at a spot you introduced him to right after class. Something close enough to the bus stop so Megumi could catch his bus back to his side of town. But instead, Megumi was already sitting at the table when you arrived, arms crossed, scowling like he’d rather be anywhere else. And sitting across from him—half-sprawled in the booth with an elbow placed on the table—was Toji.

You faltered for a split second before slipping into the seat next to Megumi, carefully ignoring the older man’s amused glance as you set your bag down.

You let your expression do the talking, nudging Megumi’s leg under the table.

“I didn’t know,” Megumi muttered in defeat. “He just showed up.”

Toji’s voice cut in before you could respond, smooth and slow as ever. “Relax. I’m just here for the food.”

“Not sure you can afford it,” you said without looking up.

Megumi snorted. Toji didn’t.

“You worried about my finances, princess?”

You finally looked at him, meeting his dark green eyes across the table. “Just imparting financial literacy. That’s all.”

His lips curled, but before he could fire back, the waiter appeared with menus. You ordered first without even looking at the menu—something seasonal with a bottle of sparkling water—while Toji leaned back when it was his turn.

“Burger,” he said. “Fries. Whatever beer you’ve got on draft.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Megumi looked like he wanted to sink into the floor.

Toji didn't care. He let the silence stretch, absently flipping over the silverware while Megumi focused on his phone. And when his gaze eventually slid back to you, it felt deliberate.

“You and Megumi,” he said after a beat. “You two dating or something?”

Megumi groaned, but you were already replying. “No.”

“Sure about that?”

“Certain.”

Toji’s grin was slow, almost predatory. “Good to hear.”

You hated the way your pulse jumped at the implication.

“Dad, don’t start,” Megumi muttered, staring daggers into his father.

“What?” Toji said, feigning innocence. “I’m just curious about who you might or might not be dating.”

“Megumi and I are just friends,” you clarify. 

“Smart girl,” Toji said, leaning back again. He cocked his head to the side, lips curling, that scar through his lip embedding itself in your eyes. “You could do better.”

Your nails dug into your palm under the table.

“You’re one to talk,” Megumi snapped suddenly, cutting through the tension. “You show up out of nowhere, act like you give a shit, and then—”

Toji’s expression shifted. Subtle, but sharp enough that Megumi immediately clamped his mouth shut.

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“Barely.”

“Better than nothing,” Toji said.

Megumi’s jaw clenched. You’d never seen him this visibly frustrated before. You knew that he had a dubious relationship with his father, but you didn’t realize it was this bad. Usually, Megumi was the definition of even-tempered. Calm and composed. He never let anyone or anything ruffle him. But Toji clearly had a talent for poking at weak spots.

Your gaze flickered between the two of them. The tension was uncomfortable, like being trapped in a room with a lit fuse.

“This is why we don’t talk,” Megumi said suddenly, pushing his chair back with a sharp scrape.

Toji’s brows lifted slightly, as if the outburst amused him. “Because I showed up to hang with my kid?”

“No,” Megumi snapped. “Because you always do this.”

Toji leaned forward, resting his beefy arms on the table. “Do what?” He asked with a cock of his head.

“Show up when it’s convenient. Then disappear just as fast.”

The words hung in the air for a moment before Megumi stood up, grabbing his phone and bag. “I’m out of here.”

You blinked up at him. “Wait—Megumi—”

“I’ll text you later,” he muttered, already halfway to the door. He didn’t even glance at Toji as he left.

The restaurant door closed behind him, leaving an uncomfortable silence in his wake.

“Well,” Toji leaned back again, looking thoroughly unfazed by the whole ordeal. “Guess it’s just us now.”

You set your glass down carefully, staring coldly into his face. “Apparently.”

Toji’s smirk widened. “You don’t have to look so happy about it.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Why are you still here?”

“Free food,” he said easily.

“You said you came here to hang out with Megumi.”

“Same thing. Besides, that brat left already.”

You exhaled sharply, already regretting letting Megumi drag you into this mess. Toji didn’t seem inclined to leave anytime soon, given his lackadaisical manner, and there was something about the way he looked at you—casual, curious—that made it impossible to relax.

“So,” he said after a moment, eyes flicking down to your glass before dragging back up to your face, “how long have you and Megumi been friends?”

You hesitated, not liking the sudden shift in focus. “A while.”

“Close?”

“As close as anyone can be with him.”

Toji snorted at that, and the sound made your jaw tighten. He wasn’t wrong, but something about his attitude made you bristle.

“Don’t act like you know him,” you said sharply.

That seemed to catch him off guard. For a second, his smirk faltered, replaced by something darker. “And you do?”

“Better than you, apparently.”

Toji leaned in slightly, resting his elbows on the table. “That so?”

You didn’t back down, even as his piercing gaze pinned you in place. “Yeah.”

There was a long pause before Toji laughed—a low, rough sound that grated against your nerves. “You’ve got some nerve, princess.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you don’t know me.”

His wolfish grin returned, sharp and deliberate. “No,” he said, voice lowering. “But I think I’m starting to.”

Your stomach twisted at the implication. You hated how casual he sounded, like he already had you figured out.

You picked up your drink, taking a long sip and finding refuge in the burn of the fizz to bury the mortification burning through your body.

“So,” Toji said after a moment, breaking the silence again. “What do rich girls talk about over dinner? Stocks? Real estate? Or just all the guys who couldn’t impress you?”

You set your glass down with a soft clink. “I don’t waste my time talking about men.”

Toji whistled. “That so?”

“Most of them are disappointing.”

His brows lifted, and for the first time, he looked like he was actually interested. “Disappointing how?”

You leaned back, crossing your arms as if you were completely unfazed. “Let’s see. No ambition. No sense of direction. No emotional intelligence. No general intelligence. No follow-through. Should I go on?”

The corner of his scarred mouth twitched, and something about it made you feel like you’d walked into a trap.

“Sounds like you’ve got high standards,” he said, voice low and smooth. “But what happens when no one meets them?”

You didn’t answer right away, letting the question hang in the air. Toji didn’t look away. He wasn’t like the other men you’d brushed off before—the ones who shrank under your stare or fumbled over their words, trying to impress you. No, Toji looked at you like he wasn’t the least bit intimidated. If anything, it felt like he was the one sizing you up.

“I don’t settle,” you said finally.

“No?”

“No.”

“That’s cute, princess.”

You ignored him, picking up your drink again and taking another slow sip. But the heat prickling your skin didn’t fade. Not with Toji’s green eyes still on you, sharp and dark, like he was waiting for the exact moment you’d falter.

The food arrived soon after, cutting through the tension for a brief moment. You ate slowly, composed, carefully spearing your salad while Toji tore into his burger like he hadn’t eaten in days.

“So, what is it you do?” you asked eventually, letting the question drip with feigned politeness.

Toji glanced up, mouth still half-full. You tried not to let your expression sour at the sight. “Depends,” he said.

“Depends on what?”

“What pays.”

You raised an eyebrow. “No real job, then?”

“Not one you’d approve of,” he said, leaning back and wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who cares about approval,” you said, tilting your head.

“I don’t,” Toji said. “But you do.”

Your fork paused just above your plate.

“You think so?”

“I know so,” he said, voice low and steady. “Girls like you? Everything’s about appearances. Doesn’t matter what’s underneath, as long as it all looks good on the surface.”

“And what about you?” you countered, your voice sharp. “What’s underneath?”

Toji leaned in slightly, his lips curling. “All you had to do was ask if you wanted to see me naked, princess.”

Your breath hitched before you could stop it, but you covered it up with another sip of your drink. The worst part wasn’t the smugness in his expression, or the blatant flirting and teasing—it was the fact that he was right. Everything about him, from his ragged edges to the dark look in his green eyes, was something you should’ve and usually turned your nose up at. And yet, you couldn’t stop staring.

You set your glass down, fixing him with an unimpressed stare.

“Are you seriously flirting with me?”

Toji shrugged. “It’s whatever you think it is, princess.”

The conversation shifted after that—courtesy of you blatantly ignoring the topic altogether—but the tension never fully faded.

By the time the check came, you were more than ready to leave. Toji leaned back and stretched. The waiter approached the table cautiously, clutching the black leather bill folder like it might detonate in his hands. He glanced between the two of you. First at Toji, whose broad frame and casual slouch made him look wildly out of place at the upscale restaurant, then at you, perfectly composed in your crisp linen top and polished jewelry.

You didn’t miss the flicker of hesitation in the waiter’s eyes. He was clearly trying to piece together the dynamic—father and daughter? Boss and employee? Lovers?—before ultimately deciding he didn’t want to guess wrong.

“Whenever you’re ready,” the waiter said, placing the bill carefully in the middle of the table.

Toji reached for it first, but you were faster, sliding it out from under his fingers before he could even lift the cover.

He raised a brow at you. “What? You think I can’t pay?”

You flipped the folder open without looking at him, not bothering to look at the total.

“No,” you said coolly, already pulling your dark brown leather wallet out of your purse. “I know you won’t.”

Toji grinned wolfishly, leaning back like this whole thing amused him. “Smart girl.”

The waiter lingered awkwardly, pretending to straighten the silverware as you pulled out some crisp bills. The metal cards in your wallet glinted under the soft lighting, unmistakable even to someone like Toji.

“Nice card,” he said, voice dripping with something that could’ve been admiration, or mockery.

“Thanks,” you said, snapping the folder shut and handing it back to the waiter. You smiled warmly at the waiter. “Keep the change.”

The waiter blinked at the implied tip, which was generous enough to make up for the strained atmosphere that had hung over the table all night, before he thanked you and quickly excused himself.

Toji whistled low, watching the waiter walk away, before he dragged his gaze back to you. “Big spender, huh?”

You reached for your purse, unfazed. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Not to you,” he muttered, almost like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

You paused, but only for a moment. “No,” you agreed softly, letting the word linger before you rose from your seat. “Not to me.”

Toji stayed seated, watching as you gathered your things with practiced ease, smoothing down your skirt and adjusting your jewelry.

“Leaving already?” he asked, sounding far too entertained.

You met his eyes, calm and composed despite the tension still lingering in your chest. “The meal’s settled,” you said simply. “What else is there to stick around for?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he let his gaze drag over you, taking in every detail—your immaculate clothes, your careful and upright posture, your perfectly applied lipstick.

Oh, how Toji wanted to smear them.

“Fair point,” he said at last, but there was something in his tone that made it feel less like an agreement and more like a challenge.

The faint thwack of tennis balls echoed across the court as the conversation continued, but you stayed quiet, idly running your fingers through the rim of your racket. Marissa and Chloe were still picking apart the details of dating someone outside their world—outside the carefully curated expectations—and every word struck a chord you didn’t want to acknowledge.

The others were still talking about Chloe’s boyfriend, picking apart his flaws with clinical precision, but you barely heard them anymore. You were too busy dissecting your own ridiculous impulses, the way your body had betrayed you, the way your mind kept circling back to him.

Toji Fushiguro.

You hated even thinking his name, hated how it echoed in your head like a whisper you couldn’t shake. It was absurd. He was absurd. What did he even have to offer besides a handsome face and a body that looked carved out of stone? He didn’t belong anywhere near this world—your world—and he never would.

He wasn’t polished. He wasn’t educated. He wasn’t even financially stable. He was the type of man who looked out of place in restaurants like the one you’d taken him to, and you knew that he hadn’t even cared. Not one bit.

That’s what got under your skin the most.

You’d spent your life perfecting the art of composure, of setting expectations and making sure they were met. Because in your world, expectations mattered. They were everything. But Toji? He didn’t live by expectations. He didn’t even pretend to. He just existed—blunt and crass and unapologetic—and it infuriated you how freeing it seemed.

“He’s sweet,” Chloe repeated defensively, but the words sounded hollow. “He’s just a bit… rough around the edges.”

“Sweet only gets you so far,” Marissa said, adjusting her tennis bracelet. “What happens when you’re hosting a fundraiser or when you’re at dinner with your parents, and he doesn’t even know which fork to use?”

“Exactly.” Julia, who had been scrolling absentmindedly on her phone, finally looked up. “You can’t spend your whole life trying to fix someone. If he’s not polished enough, he never will be.”

Chloe sighed, slumping back into her seat. “It’s not like I’m trying to marry him,” she muttered.

“Yeah, because your mom and dad would never approve,” Marissa said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “It’s about being practical, Chloe. If he can’t keep up with you now, he’s not going to suddenly catch up later.”

“It’s not that simple,” Chloe huffed. “He’s not bad, okay? He’s sweet, and he tries, but—”

“But he’s broke,” Marissa finished bluntly.

“Not broke broke. He just doesn’t have family money. He’s still working his way up, and you know how hard it is to find a guy who’s actually attractive and driven.”

“Please.” Marissa snorted. “It’s not that hard. You’re just being sentimental.”

You weren’t paying attention before, but now? Now the words stuck.

You leaned down to retie your shoelace, turning your head sideways to hide the way your jaw tightened.

The hypocrisy of it all gnawed at you.

Because no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you knew the truth. If Toji had been rich—if he’d been sitting in that restaurant in a tailored suit instead of an old raggedy sweater—you wouldn’t have cared about his age or his baggage or the fact that he had a grown son your age. You wouldn’t have even blinked.

And the worst part?

You weren’t any better than Chloe.

“He doesn’t have to be rich,” Chloe argued, drawing your attention back to the conversation. “But he should at least aspire to something, right? I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t bother me when he gets uncomfortable when I try to take him somewhere nicer than a steakhouse.”

“It’s a compatibility thing,” Marissa said. “You can’t force someone to fit into this lifestyle. If he’s not comfortable in it now, he never will be.”

Your stomach twisted.

The words rang in your ears, uncomfortably close to the thoughts that had plagued you since that dinner. Since Toji’s sharp smirk and unbothered stare had somehow left you feeling raw and exposed.

“I mean, what’s the point of all of this?” Chloe gestured vaguely around the pristine tennis courts. “What’s the point of working hard and doing well if we’re just going to settle for guys who can’t keep up? It’s exhausting.”

You almost laughed. Exhausting.

Toji wasn’t exhausted. He wasn’t running himself in circles trying to impress anyone. He didn’t even try to fit into places he didn’t belong. And yet, for all his bluntness, for all his rough edges and the casual way he seemed to exist without apology, he’d felt more solid than anyone you’d met in years.

And that terrified you.

“You’re quiet today,” Marissa said suddenly, pulling you back to the present. “Everything okay?”

“Perfectly fine.” You managed a smile, twirling your racket by its grip. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Nothing important.”

You gripped your racket tighter, nails digging into the synthetic leather.

“Are we playing another set or what?” someone asked.

You forced yourself to stand up, to push him out of your head and focus on the game.

But even as you stepped onto the court and adjusted your stance, you knew it wouldn’t last.

The clock on the wall ticked away lazily, the soft hum of your air conditioning the only sound breaking the silence in your lavish apartment. You were sitting at your kitchen island, flicking through some textbooks as you mentally prepared yourself for the hours of work ahead. Megumi had texted earlier, saying he’d drop off the final details for your project—he’d promised to take care of it when you saw him last. But now, sitting in your pristine apartment with a glass of rosé beside you, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

The soft ping of a text from Megumi interrupted the quiet of your apartment. You glanced down at your phone, fully expecting it to be a message about the project materials. Instead, your eyes widened slightly as you read the sudden shift in plans.

Sorry, there’s an emergency with Kuro so I’m at the vet. I’m sending my dad instead to drop off the stuff you need. Hope that's okay. I’ll catch up with you later.

You exhaled sharply, your fingers momentarily gripping the phone tighter. Toji. The last person you were expecting.

You had half-expected Megumi to be reliable. Sure, his father was... something else, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t follow through. You rubbed your forehead, sighing as you felt the unrelenting weight of the fact that Toji—Megumi’s deadbeat dad, the man with a charm as sharp as his lack of direction in life—was about to show up at your door.

For a moment, you almost texted Megumi back to argue. To suggest he just drop it by tomorrow, that you didn’t need his father showing up like this. But before you could even type out your thoughts, a knock echoed through your apartment.

Your heart skipped a beat—whether from excitement or dread, you couldn't pinpoint. You set your phone down on the countertop, trying to steady your breathing, but your pulse was already racing. You had no business feeling this way. He was an obstacle, a challenge to your composure, but nothing more. This was just another inconvenience, another reminder that you were far above whatever Toji was.

With a reluctant exhale, you made your way to the door, clicking the lock open, and standing there in the frame, Toji’s tall figure filled the doorway. He leaned casually against the frame, holding the folder in his hand, looking every bit the same unbothered, rugged man you’d met before.

You stood there, holding the door open just a little too long as your mind races. Toji’s presence in your apartment felt like a looming storm—heavy, pressing, relentless. Megumi’s absence only amplified the tension, leaving you alone with the one man you know you should not be alone with.

Toji stepped inside, just far enough to clear the doorway, his eyes already scanning the room. His gaze swept over the space with a mixture of appreciation and something darker, something more intense. He’s not just looking at the furniture or the art on the walls. He’s looking at you.

“...Mr. Fushiguro,” you managed.

You closed the door behind him, standing just a little too close, but you can’t exactly tell him to leave. Not when you need the materials, and not when your damn pulse is racing just from being in the same room as him. Your eyes fell to the folder in his hands, trying to distract yourself, trying to stay calm. You don’t want to feel anything.

He gave a small grunt of acknowledgement but didn't immediately hand you the folder. Instead, he set it down on the coffee table, his gaze locking with yours in that way he always does, like he’s studying you.

You felt exposed—your place, your clothes, everything about you right now feels vulnerable. You weren’t expecting this. Toji Fushiguro, your friend’s father, standing in your apartment, staring at you with that heavy, calculating gaze. It’s not the first time he’s looked at you like that, but it’s the first time it’s made you feel this much.

"Nice place," he said, his voice low, his tone appreciative but edged with something more—something that causes your pulse to pick up, just a little. "Definitely fits you. All the right things in all the right places." He’s not talking about the apartment anymore.

You managed a tight smile. "I like to keep it clean." You tried to sound nonchalant, but your hands, now clutched in front of you, betrayed the nervous energy you can’t seem to shake. He’s too close, his presence too powerful.

He stepped closer, examining the space with a casual interest, but it’s all too clear that his eyes are more on you than the apartment. "Yeah. I can see that." His gaze lingered a moment too long before he pulled his focus away to gesture around the room. "All this... it fits you. Perfectly."

You swallowed, your heart picking up its pace. The compliment should feel good, should be flattering. But instead, it twists in your stomach. You don’t need his approval. You don’t need any of this. So why does it make you feel like you’re being torn open, laid bare?

"Thanks," you muttered, the word slipping out easily despite the discomfort tightening in your chest. Toji’s proximity feels suffocating now, his every movement calculated and unnervingly direct.

You glanced down at the folder on the island, the one containing the documents you’d been waiting on, but your mind is somewhere else entirely. His presence overwhelmed you. It was strange how it seemed to fill the room with the kind of pressure that had nothing to do with the space around you.

“And,” you murmured, trying to keep your voice steady as you took the folder from his hand. You can’t help but notice the way his eyes linger on you, that slow scan of his gaze, the way it feels as if he’s undressing you with nothing but a look. “Thanks for bringing this.”

“Don’t mention it, sweetheart.”

Your grip on the folder tightened, but it wasn’t because of the papers inside.

It was him.

Standing there, weight shifted lazily onto one leg, arms crossed over his broad chest like he had all the time in the world. Like he could feel how badly you wanted him gone, but more than that—how badly you wanted him to stay.

He smirked, slow and easy. "You gonna open it, or just stand there clenching it like that?"

You forced a breath through your nose, willing your hands to relax. "I’ll look through it later."

He hummed, unconvinced, stepping closer. "That so?"

You nodded, lips pressing into a thin line as you refused to look up. Because if you did, you’d see the way his dark eyes gleamed with amusement. With certainty.

Toji thrived on this, on the push and pull, on the game you were trying so damn hard not to play.

"You know, you’re real uptight, sweetheart," he murmured, voice dipping just enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck rise. "Always actin’ like you got somethin’ to prove."

Your jaw tensed. "I don’t have to prove anything to you."

That damn smirk deepened.

"Never said you did." His voice was smooth, like velvet laced with something sharp. "Just funny how you keep tellin’ yourself that."

Your fingers curled into your palm, nails pressing into skin. You could feel the heat rising in your chest, something dangerously close to frustration—no, not just frustration.

It was something else you didn’t want to acknowledge.

Because goddamn it, he was right.

Every time Toji was near, it took everything in you not to acknowledge the pull, the way your body betrayed you in his presence. It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t fair.

Toji shifted, and suddenly, he was too close, the scent of him—smoke, leather, and something distinctly masculine—wrapping around you like a noose.

"You always this tense around guys, or is it just me?" His voice was low, teasing, but there was something beneath it. Something pressing.

Your throat felt tight. "Just you."

The words left you before you could stop them.

His smirk vanished, replaced by something heavier, something darker. A beat of silence stretched between you, thick with everything unsaid.

"Yeah?" he murmured.

You swallowed the dryness in your throat.

He didn’t move, but you could feel it—his patience thinning, the careful line he was toeing fraying with every second you stood there, staring up at him like you were waiting for something to happen.

And maybe you were.

Maybe you’d been waiting this whole damn time.

His gaze dipped, lingering on your lips just long enough for your breath to hitch before dragging back up, locking onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak.

Then—so slight it could’ve been accidental—he reached out, fingertips just barely grazing the back of your wrist.

You should have pulled away.

You didn’t.

The touch was fleeting, gone before you could fully process it, but the damage was done. Your pulse pounded, skin burning where he’d touched you, and Toji knew.

Oh, he fucking knew.

He exhaled a quiet laugh, so low you almost didn’t catch it. "Hate to break it to ya, sweetheart," he murmured, leaning in just enough for his breath to ghost over your cheek, "but I think you like it."

Your stomach dropped.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

And that? That terrified you more than anything.

Your breath came too fast, too shallow.

Toji wasn’t just close—he was looming, his presence swallowing up all the space between you, thick and suffocating. He wasn’t touching you, not really, but it didn’t matter. His heat curled around you, his scent—smoke, steel, something dark—flooding your senses, making it impossible to think.

You needed to stop this. You had to stop this.

"You’re playing a dangerous game," you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

His lips twitched. Amused. Unbothered. "Ain’t playin’."

God, you were shaking. You gripped the folder tighter, knuckles white, but it was useless. You had nothing. No grounding, no control. Just the unbearable weight of his gaze and the way your body—traitorous, desperate—leaned closer when it should have pulled away.

"This—this is a bad idea," you tried, your voice breaking.

Toji hummed, slow, like he was thinking about it, like it was even a question. "Probably."

Your stomach twisted. "Megumi—"

"—ain’t here," he finished smoothly, cutting you off before you could even try to make that excuse stick.

Your stomach twisted, your resolve slipping like sand through your fingers. "You're his dad."

He tilted his head slightly, gaze heavy-lidded, knowing. "That bother you?" 

Yes. No. It should.

Your lips parted, but the words caught in your throat because goddamn it, the way he was looking at you was undoing every carefully built wall you’d spent months constructing.

His hand lifted—slow, deliberate—until his fingertips brushed against your jaw. A barely-there touch, but your whole body reacted, heat blooming under your skin like he’d set you on fire.

"You’re too old for me," you whispered, desperate now, clinging to anything.

Toji huffed a quiet laugh. "That so?" His thumb dragged along the curve of your chin, tilting it up just enough to make you meet his green eyes. "Funny. You don’t feel like you mind."

A shiver ran down your spine. You did mind. You had to mind.

Your breath hitched as he leaned in, close enough that you could see the scar slicing through his lips, close enough that if you so much as swayed, you’d—

"No job," you blurted, grasping at straws now, voice breathless. "You're—you’re broke."

Toji laughed. Laughed. Low and amused, like none of this even fazed him. "That why your heart’s racin’?"

Damn him.

You could hear it—feel it—the thundering pulse in your chest, your body's betrayal laid bare in the space between you.

You had one last defense. One last excuse.

"I—" Your voice wavered. "I don’t want this."

Liar.

Toji’s smirk softened, just barely, but the hunger in his eyes never wavered. His fingers trailed from your jaw to your throat, light, teasing, before settling against the rapid beat of your pulse.

"Lemme hear you say that again."

You opened your mouth—ready, willing yourself to say it—but nothing came out.

Because you couldn’t.

Because it wasn’t true.

And Toji knew it.

Knew it when your breath shuddered, when your lashes fluttered, when your body leaned—just the smallest fraction—toward him instead of away.

His lips barely ghosted over yours, not quite a kiss, but there, teasing, taunting.

"That’s what I thought."

And just like that, the last of your excuses crumbled.

You don’t know how it happens. One moment, you were trying to catch your breath, trying to think—the next, Toji’s crowding you against the counter, his sheer presence suffocating, intoxicating, inevitable.

"Been fightin’ this so hard, huh? Thought you were too good for it?" His voice was nothing but a slow, lazy drawl, but you felt the way his words curl around you, creeping into the deepest, filthiest parts of your mind.

You tried to push at his chest, your palms pressed against the hard muscle—useless. His hand engulfed your wrist with a single squeeze, pinning it beside your head. The other? It slid slowly over your thigh, teasing the hem of your shorts.

"Toji—" your voice was a breathless whisper, but even you don't know if you’re begging him to stop or to keep going.

"Tell me to stop, then." His grip tightened when you squirmed, his thumb pressing just right over your pulse point. "Tell me you don’t want it."

You should. You have to. But your mouth refused to form the words when his fingers dipped lower, grazing the damp fabric of your underwear. A sharp inhale betrayed you, your thighs tensing against his touch.

"Filthy girl," he rasped, the smirk in his voice unmistakable.

With one sharp yank, your shorts are gone, tossed somewhere and forgotten along with the folder Toji had come here to bring. A gasp caught in your throat, embarrassment warring with the unbearable need twisting low in your stomach.

Then—

"Fuck—look at you," Toji groaned, dragging his roughened thumb against your slick folds, heavy and hot. "Gotta stretch you out first, yeah? Can’t even take the tip like this."

The first press of his fingers had you choking on a gasp. Thick, deliberate, his touch was slow as he worked you open, forcing your body to take more, his thumb pressing teasing circles against your puffy clit. You trembled beneath him, whimpering as he curled his fingers inside you, stretching your gummy walls, coaxing out slick with every lazy stroke.

"Mmm, still too tight," he mused, his voice a rough purr against your ear. "Gotta make sure you can handle me, baby. Don’t want you breakin’ on me too fast."

Your body betrayed you, hips rocking into the steady intrusion, your thighs trembling when he scissored his fingers inside you. It’s too much—the sensation, the way he watched you, the way he’s holding back just to make sure you felt every second of this.

“You’re creamin’ all over my fingers, baby,” Toji cooed, fucking in two rough fingers. Your face burned at the sound of squelching. You could hear how wet you were. Could feel it soaking his palm, your ass, and even the kitchen island beneath you. “Do you not touch yourself, hm? Pussy’s so fuckin’ tight.”

You quivered beneath him, thrashing and twisting as his thick fingers fucked into you. You felt tears pricking at your eyes from the sensation. You felt so full. His rough fingertips rubbed against the ribbed walls of your cunt, curling into a spot that rendered you breathless.

Toji relished the sight. “Atta girl,” he rasped, the sound sending heat straight to your pussy. “You can take more f’me, hm?”

Your mind was too cloudy to properly respond, your lips parted in a silent cry, mewls and whimpers escaping your glossy lips.

Toji smiled wolfishly. “‘Course you can, sweetheart.”

Then he pushed a third finger in. Your walls clamped down on him, fluttering like it was panicking from the stretch.

He grunted at that, working his finger in. “So tight. Almost makes me think you’re a fuckin’ virgin.”

Your walls fluttered at that, your body tensing at the words. Toji’s smirk deepened, eyes sharpening as he caught the subtle shift in your reaction. He stilled his movements for just a moment, head tilting slightly as realization dawned on him.

“Oh,” he drawled, voice dropping even lower, thick with something dangerous. “That so, sweetheart?” His fingers flexed inside you, making you jerk. “Fuck, no wonder you’re squeezin’ me like this.” His wolfish grin widened, teeth flashing as he leaned in, voice like a growl against your ear. “Your first time, and it’s gonna be with me? Hah. Ain’t that somethin’?”

Your breath hitched, shame and arousal mixing in a dizzying heat. Toji chuckled darkly, fingers starting to move again, slower, deeper. “Don’t worry, baby,” he murmured, pressing a filthy kiss to your jaw. His scent overwhelms you—cigarettes, musk, and something warm. “I’ll make sure you never forget it.”

You clenched even tighter at that, earning a grunt from Toji who had to work much harder to fuck his fingers into you.

Toji chuckled, voice dripping with amusement. “Oh? That got you clenchin’ up real tight. What is it, baby? The thought of this big cock being your first get you all worked up?” His fingers curled again, stroking that spot inside you deliberately. You choked on a gasp, your hips jerking against the countertop.

His free hand moved to your jaw, gripping it roughly, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Nah, can’t be. Not with a fuckin' pussy like this,” he murmured, his voice dark and amused. “Too fuckin’ sweet. Too fuckin' greedy.” He pried your lips open with his thumb, watching with a glint in his eye as your tongue lolled out on instinct. “See? Good little sluts always open up for me.”

Before you could respond, he spit. The thick warmth of it landed right on your tongue, and you whined, your body betraying you as you swallowed without thinking. He grinned at the sight, fingers still fucking deep inside your cunt.

“That’s it,” he murmured, voice thick with approval. “Knew you’d be fuckin' perfect for me.”

His fingers spread inside you, stretching you even wider, and you gasped, hands flying up to clutch at his wrist. His grin only widened.

“Aww, poor thing,” he mocked, leaning in so his lips brushed against the corner of your mouth. “Can’t take my fingers? Then how the fuck you gonna take my cock?”

You couldn’t answer—all you could do was whimper as he fucked his fingers into you harder, knuckles-deep, the wet sounds of your arousal obscene in the quiet of the kitchen.

“Maybe I should make you beg for it first,” he mused, lips ghosting along your jaw. “Make you admit how bad you want me to split this tight little cunt open.”

His fingers finally withdrew, leaving you empty and aching, but before you could complain, Toji was already lowering himself between your thighs. He lifted one of your legs over his broad shoulder, his hands gripping your thighs tight enough to leave bruises.

“Gotta open you up nice and proper, baby,” he murmured, voice dripping with sin. “Can’t have this tiny fuckin’ hole strugglin’ too much, huh?”

His breath was hot against your drenched folds, his dark eyes locked onto your fluttering cunt. Then, without warning, he spit. The thick glob of saliva landed right on your swollen clit, mixing with your arousal, and you gasped at the sensation.

Toji groaned at the sight. “Fuckin’ messy,” he muttered, using two fingers to spread the slickness over your folds. “Bet you’ve never had anyone eat this pretty pussy, huh?”

You barely had time to shake your head before he dove in. His tongue was hot, rough, and unrelenting as he licked a long, slow stripe up your slit before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. Hard.

Your back arched off the counter, a strangled moan ripping from your throat as Toji devoured you like a man starved. His tongue worked you over, hot and wet, flicking and swirling in ways that had your thighs trembling around his head. He didn’t just eat pussy—he dominated it, owned it, made it his.

His fingers pressed back into you, two thick digits stretching you open while his tongue teased your swollen bundle of nerves. He pumped them slowly at first, letting you feel every ridge of his calloused fingertips rubbing against your slick walls.

“Gotta get this tight little hole ready,” he murmured between licks, his breath hot against your soaked folds. “Can’t have you cryin’ when I stuff you full.”

You whimpered, your hands flying to his dark hair, gripping tight as your hips bucked against his mouth.

Toji growled, pleased by your desperation, and shoved his fingers deeper. “That’s it, baby. Fuckin’ take it.”

His tongue never relented, flicking, sucking, teasing, until the pressure inside you coiled unbearably tight. He could feel it, the way your walls squeezed around his fingers, the way your body trembled beneath him.

“Gonna cum for me, huh?” he rasped, his voice vibrating against your clit. “Go on, then. Fuckin’ soak me.”

A few more ruthless strokes of his tongue, and you shattered.

Your orgasm tore through you, your body locking up as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Toji groaned against your pussy, drinking in every drop of slick that gushed out of you, his fingers still working you through it, milking every last bit of your release.

When you finally came down, breathless and trembling, Toji pulled back just enough to admire his work. Your cunt was puffy, glistening, a mess of his spit and your cum.

“Fuck,” he muttered, voice thick with approval. “Now that’s a pretty sight.”

Toji pulled away from your ruined cunt, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his dark eyes full of something primal as he stood to his full height. His cock strained against his sweats, a thick outline pressing against the fabric, and he smirked down at you, chest rising and falling heavily.

“Now,” he drawled, gripping your thighs tighter, his voice a dark promise, “where do you want me to ruin you, baby? Right here on the counter? Bent over that fancy couch of yours?” His smirk deepened as he leaned in, voice dropping to a murmur against your lips. “Or should I stretch you out on that big, empty bed of yours?”

He let the question hang in the air, but the wicked glint in his eyes told you—this wasn’t really your choice.

Toji didn’t wait for an answer. Not that you could give him one—your brain was too fogged with lust, your body too pliant in his grasp. He hauled you up effortlessly, strong arms keeping you locked against him as he carried you through the dimly lit halls of your home. The path to your bedroom felt both too long and too short, every step sending another wave of slick arousal dripping down your thighs.

Your back hit the mattress before you even realized he had thrown you down. The bed dipped under his weight as he crawled over you, eyes dark and hungry as he took in the sight beneath him—your flushed skin, your trembling legs, the way your breath came in short, desperate pants.

“Look at you,” he murmured, running a rough palm up your thigh. “Fuckin’ perfect. Spread out for me like a good little girl.”

His hand gripped the underside of your knee, shoving your legs further apart. The air was thick with the scent of sex, your arousal glistening between your thighs. Toji groaned low in his chest, tapping the heavy weight of his cock against your swollen clit, smearing your slick all over the thick head.

His fingers trailed down your belly, calloused fingertips tracing over your trembling skin before stopping just above your pelvis. "You on the pill, baby?" he asked, voice low, rough—almost like he didn’t really care what the answer was.

You swallowed thickly, nodding. "Y-yeah."

His smirk widened, lazy and dangerous. His palm pressed down against your lower stomach, fingers flexing possessively. "Mm. Not like it would’ve mattered."

Your breath caught in your throat, your stomach tightening at the weight of his words. The realization barely had time to settle before he shifted, spreading your thighs wider, his broad hands gripping the plush of them like he owned every inch.

"Fuck, look at you," he muttered, dragging the fat head of his cock along your slick folds, coating himself in the wetness he had worked you into. "Drippin’ for me like a needy little thing. Bet you’d take it either way, huh?" His tone was mocking, almost pitying. "Doesn’t even matter, baby—I’m gonna fuck you full, gonna stretch this little cunt open till you’re ruined for anyone else."

A pathetic whimper slipped from your lips, and Toji groaned, guiding himself to your entrance, pressing just enough for you to feel the unbearable pressure of his size.

“You ready for me, baby?” His voice was almost mocking, a dark smirk pulling at his lips. He knew the answer. Knew from the way your body trembled, from the way your breath hitched when he pressed the fat head of his cock against your entrance.

Still, he wanted to hear it.

You nodded, gasping as he rubbed slow circles against your clit with his cock. “Y-Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He raised a brow, feigning disinterest. “Dunno, sweetheart. You sure this tiny little pussy can take me?”

You whined, your hips bucking instinctively, desperate for more friction. “Please,” you whimpered, voice barely above a breath.

Toji chuckled darkly. “There’s that pretty beggin’ again.”

He didn’t make you wait any longer.

A sharp gasp left your lips as he pushed in, the thick crown stretching you open in a way his fingers never could. The burn was instant, overwhelming, your walls struggling to take the sheer size of him. Toji groaned, low and guttural, his fingers digging bruises into your thighs as he fought to keep himself from bottoming out too fast.

“Shit,” he ground out, watching the way your tight little hole struggled to take him. “Takin’ me so fuckin’ good, baby.”

Your head tipped back against the pillows, eyes squeezing shut as your walls clenched down on him. It was too much—too big, too thick, too deep already, and he wasn’t even fully inside yet.

“Relax,” he muttered, voice strained with restraint. His thumb found your clit, rubbing slow, taunting circles to ease the tension. “You can take it, sweetheart. You wanted this, didn’t you?”

You nodded frantically, fingers twisting in the sheets as he pushed in another inch. The stretch was unbearable, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but the pleasure was just as intense. You felt so full, so stuffed, your body struggling to accommodate him.

Toji groaned at the sight of your teary, desperate face. “Fuck, look at you. Cryin’ on my cock already.” He pushed in another inch, watching the way your body trembled beneath him. “You wanted this, baby. So take it.”

And then he slammed the rest of the way in.

"Biiig stretch, sweetheart," he rasped, teasing, savoring the way your walls fluttered in panic. "Deep fuckin’ breaths. This pussy’s gotta learn to take me."

A broken cry tore from your throat, your back arching off the mattress as he bottomed out. The sheer fullness of him sent a shudder through your body, your thighs twitching where they were spread wide. Toji stilled, gritting his teeth at the way your walls spasmed around him, struggling to adjust.

“Fuck, you’re squeezin' me so tight.” His voice was wrecked, a guttural groan rumbling from his chest. “Takin' me so fuckin' deep, baby… Look at you, stretched so pretty around me.”

Your fingers dug into his biceps, nails leaving crescent moons in his skin as you tried to ground yourself. Toji's hand found your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

“Breathe,” he rasped, his thumb dragging over your parted lips before pressing down against your tongue. “There you go. Just like that. Lemme in, sweetheart.”

You whimpered around his thumb, dazed, overwhelmed, your mind drowning in the sensation of being so utterly filled. Toji grinned, something dark and satisfied curling in his expression.

“That’s it,” he praised, shifting his hips slightly, letting you feel every inch of him buried inside you. “This pussy was made to take me.”

Then he pulled back, just an inch—before driving his cock back in, harder, deeper.

You choked on a gasp, pleasure ricocheting up your spine as Toji set a brutal rhythm, dragging his length out before slamming it back inside, making sure you felt every ridge, every vein, every inch. Your bed creaked pitifully beneath the force of it, the sound of skin meeting skin obscene in the quiet room.

“So fuckin' good,” Toji groaned, his grip on your thighs tightening. “Makin' a mess all over me, baby. So desperate, so needy for cock.”

Your walls clenched at his words, the filthiness of it only heightening the coil tightening in your stomach. Toji caught it immediately, his grin widening.

“Yeah? You like that? My dirty little girl, gettin' off on being used?”

You couldn’t answer—not when he was fucking you so deep, so hard, the air punched from your lungs with every thrust. All you could do was sob, overwhelmed, delirious with pleasure.

Toji chuckled darkly, leaning in, his breath hot against your ear. “Such a nasty little slut.”

Your stomach twisted, shame and arousal tangling into something unbearable, but Toji didn’t let up.

“What would Megumi think, huh?” he sneered, voice dripping with mockery. “His pretty little friend—so fuckin’ proper, so well-behaved—lettin’ his deadbeat old man fuck her stupid.”

A sob tore from your throat, half-formed, half-pleasure, half-mortification. Toji only laughed, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at him.

“That’s right, baby,” he cooed, thrusts growing rougher. “Nothin’ you can say now, huh? Too busy cryin’ on my cock.”

Toji groaned, his pace never faltering. “You’re mine now, sweetheart. Gonna fuck you so full, make sure you never forget who this pussy belongs to.”

His hand slid down between your bodies, pressing against the bulge in your lower stomach, making you feel just how deep he was inside you. “You feel that?” he murmured, voice thick with possession. “That’s me, baby. Right where I fuckin’ belong.”

Your breath hitched, eyes rolling back as his fingers returned to your clit, rubbing in tight, relentless circles. The sensation was too much, your body wound tight, teetering on the edge of something devastating.

“Gonna cum for me?” he taunted, his thrusts turning sharp, bruising. “Gonna cream all over my cock like a needy little thing?”

You sobbed, legs tightening around his waist, nails raking down his back. Toji groaned at the sting, at the way your walls spasmed, clenching down so hard it nearly broke his rhythm.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “That’s it, sweetheart. Give it to me.”

The coil snapped, pleasure washing over you in waves so intense you nearly blacked out. Toji cursed, feeling you tighten around him, his own release barreling down on him as he drove into you with frantic, punishing thrusts.

“Take it,” he gritted out. “Take all of it.”

A final thrust, a guttural groan, and he was spilling inside you, filling you up with everything he had. His body shuddered, muscles taut as he rode out his high, keeping himself buried deep, making sure not a single drop was wasted.

He slumped over you, pressing a lazy, filthy kiss against your temple before pulling back slightly, just enough to meet your dazed, ruined gaze.

“Tappin’ out already, sweetheart?” he murmured, faux sympathy in his husky voice. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Your reflection in the vanity mirror was a mess—teary-eyed, mouth open in gasping moans, body trembling from overstimulation. Toji had you bent over the vanity, his rough hands gripping your hips, keeping you steady as he pounded into you from behind. The mirror shook violently with each thrust, the delicate perfume bottles and makeup brushes rattling dangerously close to toppling over.

“Look at you,” Toji rasped against your ear, one large hand sliding up to fist into your hair and yanking your head back, forcing you to watch yourself. "Letting a man like me use you like a cumdump. What would your parents say?" He punctuated his words with a brutal snap of his hips, knocking the air out of you.

A choked sob left your lips, your body jolting forward from the sheer force of it. Your nails scraped against the wooden surface, legs trembling as Toji groaned behind you, his hands tightening on your hips.

“Fuck, you’re still so goddamn tight,” he growled, pulling back just to slam in again, knocking the breath from your lungs. “Thought I broke you in already, but this pussy’s still clingin’ to me like it doesn’t wanna let go.”

Your mouth opened in a silent cry, the stretch unbearable, the pleasure too intense. Toji’s hands slid up your body, one wrapping around your throat, forcing you to lift your head and look at yourself in the mirror.

“Watch yourself,” he ordered, his grip tightening just enough to make your breath hitch. “Wanna see what a filthy fuckin’ mess you are takin’ my cock.”

Your teary eyes locked onto your reflection—onto the way your body jerked with every punishing thrust, onto the way Toji loomed over you like he owned you, his scarred lips curled into a smug smirk. The sight alone had your walls fluttering around him, clenching tight in helpless desperation.

Toji groaned, his free hand twisting in your hair, yanking your head back further. “Tight little thing,” he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. “You like this, don’t you? Bein’ used like this? Letting a man old enough to be your daddy fuck you stupid?”

You whined, barely able to form a response, your cheek smushed against the cool surface of the vanity. The only sounds leaving your lips were broken moans and gasps as he stretched you out, stuffing you full and hitting deep with every ruthless thrust.

"N-not—" you tried to speak, but Toji’s grip tightened in your hair, tugging you up so your back arched further, making his cock slide even deeper inside you. You sobbed at the sensation, thighs trembling from the overwhelming pleasure.

"Not what, sweetheart?" He mocked, his free hand slipping around to wrap around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your head spin. "Not supposed to let me fuck you like this? Too late for that. Look how fuckin’ messy you are for me."

He leaned in, his lips slanting over yours in a sloppy, desperate kiss, tongue plunging into your mouth and swallowing your gasps whole. He kissed like he fucked—hungry, all-consuming, utterly devastating.

The vanity rocked harder, the mirror shaking so violently you thought it might crack. Toji’s pace was relentless, his grunts and growls mixing with the obscene wet sounds of skin slapping against skin. You could barely keep yourself upright, your arms shaking as you tried to brace against the vanity.

"Fu-fuck, Toji—" you mewled, your entire body burning from overstimulation.

"What, baby? Can’t handle it?" He cooed mockingly, a smirk tugging at his lips as he pulled back slightly, only to slam back in with enough force to make the vanity screech against the hardwood floor. "Don’t tap out yet, princess. I’m not finished with you yet."

He wasn’t lying. His hands roamed over your trembling form, one hand gripping your hip in a bruising hold while the other moved to press firmly between your shoulder blades, forcing you deeper into the vanity. The change in angle had you keening, tears welling up in your eyes, body jolting with each harsh thrust. His fat tip was practically making out with your cervix. He was reaching so deep you swore he would somehow rip into you.

"That’s it, take it," he growled, pressing wet kisses along your spine, only to bite down hard enough to make you yelp. You felt his stubble tickling your skin. "Gonna fuck you so good, you won’t be able to think about anything else."

His fingers found your swollen clit, rubbing tight, merciless circles that had your legs shaking violently. The overstimulation was unbearable, but you couldn't stop yourself from clenching down around him, your body betraying you in its desperate need for more.

Toji chuckled darkly, feeling your gummy walls spasm around him. "Yeah, that’s it, sweetheart. Cream all over my cock. Show me just how much you fuckin’ love it."

You let out a choked sob, your release slamming into you with blinding intensity. Your body seized up, pleasure crashing over you in waves so strong it left you breathless.

“Go on, then,” he murmured, voice dripping with filth. “Cum for me, baby. Make a mess of yourself.”

His words shattered whatever restraint you had left. Your body convulsed, pleasure washing over you in waves so intense you nearly blacked out. Your walls spasmed around him, milking him, dragging him deeper. Toji groaned, his pace turning frantic, bruising, his own release barreling down on him.

“Fuck,” he snarled, snapping his hips forward one last time, burying himself deep. “Take it—take every fuckin’ drop.”

He filled you up, his body shuddering against yours, his breath ragged in your ear. His grip loosened on your throat, his other hand sliding down to rub slow, lazy circles against your overstimulated clit, making you jolt with aftershocks.

Your body barely had a second to recover before Toji was moving again, hands gripping your thighs as he dragged you off the vanity and down onto the cold hardwood floor. The shock of the cold floor jolted your warm body, shining with a thin sheen of sweat. Your legs were jelly, trembling from overstimulation, but he handled you like you were weightless, shoving you onto your back and manhandling you into a deep mating press.

Your knees nearly touched your shoulders, folded up so tight you had no control—no escape. Toji loomed over you, his massive frame caging you in completely, dark eyes hooded with hunger as he took in the sight of you laid out beneath him. His fat cock, still slick from your previous release, slapped against your raw, swollen folds, making you whimper.

Pap. Pap. Pap.

“Not done with you yet, sweetheart,” he murmured, rubbing the thick tip against your overstimulated clit, making your whole body jolt. He smirked at your reaction, pressing in just enough to make you gasp. “You can take more, can’t you? Fucked this little pussy open real nice already.”

You moaned, brain too foggy to form words, only able to squirm under him as he teased you. His hands slid down, gripping the backs of your thighs and spreading you even wider, completely exposing you to him. He groaned at the sight, his cock twitching. “Fuckin’ made for this. Just look at you.”

You tried to babble something—maybe a protest, maybe a plea—but Toji didn’t give you the chance. He pushed in with one brutal thrust, bottoming out instantly, punching the air from your lungs. The stretch was unbearable, white-hot pleasure and pain mixing as your walls spasmed around the thick intrusion.

Toji let out a rough groan, rolling his hips to make you feel every inch of him buried inside. “Biiiig stretch, baby,” he grunted. His large hand pressed down on your belly, right where he was nestled deep, and his smirk widened when he felt the outline of his cock there. “Fuckin’ hell,” he rasped, pressing down harder. “Feel that, baby? You’re so fuckin’ full of me.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, body overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it all. You nodded weakly, a choked sob escaping as he gave an experimental thrust, grinding deeper, making your vision blur.

“Too much—” you whimpered, nails clawing at his biceps, but Toji only chuckled darkly, leaning down until his lips brushed your ear.

“Too bad,” he murmured. “Takin’ it. Every fuckin’ inch.”

And then he started moving.

His thrusts were deep and brutal, slamming you down into the floor with every snap of his hips. The obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin, the wet squelch of your soaked cunt, and Toji’s rough groans filled the room. Your moans were reduced to broken, breathless cries, your legs twitching from the relentless pace.

“Fuck, look at you,” he groaned, voice thick with lust. “This tiny pussy takin’ me so good—look at the mess you’re makin’.”

You barely registered his words, too lost in the stretch, the overwhelming fullness of him splitting you open. Your nails dug into his arms, desperate for something to ground yourself with, but it was useless—he had you trapped, helpless beneath him.

Then, Toji leaned in, capturing your lips in a filthy, desperate kiss. It was messy, all tongue and teeth, his breath hot and heavy against your mouth. He swallowed your whimpers greedily, sucking on your tongue before pulling back just enough to let a thick strand of spit drip into your mouth.

“Swallow,” he ordered, voice dark and commanding.

You obeyed without thinking, your body too far gone to do anything but submit. He grinned, dragging his thumb down to smear your spit-slick lips before diving back in, devouring you in another feverish kiss.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl,” he gritted out, watching the way your body took him. “Lettin’ me break you in like this. Letting a man old like me fuck you stupid on the floor.” He dragged his tongue along your cheek, tasting the salt of your tears. “Pretty princess was pampered all her life, but all she really needs is some good dicking down, huh?”

You could only nod your head weakly, overwhelmed, overstimulated—completely at his mercy.

Toji growled, his grip tightening on your thighs as he drove into you even harder, grinding so deep you could feel him in your stomach. “Good,” he muttered. “’Cause you’re mine now. Ain’t gonna let anyone else have this pretty fuckin’ pussy.”

Your back arched off the floor as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak, your walls clamping down around him, pulling him deeper. Toji cursed under his breath, his thrusts turning sloppy, erratic.

“Gonna fill you up,” he groaned, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight circles to push you over the edge. “Fuckin’ take it, baby. Wanna see you dripping with me.”

A strangled cry ripped from your throat as your orgasm crashed over you, body convulsing under him. Your walls spasmed, milking his cock, and that was all it took. Toji snarled, burying himself to the hilt as he spilled inside you, his body trembling with the force of his release.

For a long moment, all that filled the room was heavy breathing, the both of you panting against each other, bodies slick with sweat. But Toji wasn’t done.

His dark gaze flickered down to where you were still twitching around him, his cum leaking out in thick dribbles. A slow, lazy smirk stretched across his lips as he rolled his hips once more, making you shudder.

Your legs twitched with overstimulation, your mind blank with pleasure as Toji fucked you through every last wave. He leaned back just slightly, admiring the sight beneath him—your thoroughly ruined form, the way your body trembled, the way his come dripped from your swollen, used pussy, smearing along your inner thighs and pooling beneath you on the floor.

“Messy fuckin’ girl,” he muttered, dragging a thick finger through the creamy slick spilling from your cunt. He pushed it back inside, groaning at the way you clenched around the intrusion. “Still takin’ me so good, even like this. Guess I fucked the fight right outta you.”

He leaned down, pressing a slow, filthy kiss against your parted lips, savoring the taste of you, the heat of your breath against his. Then he pulled back, eyes dark and gleaming with satisfaction.

“Hope you didn’t have plans tomorrow, sweetheart.”

“Hello? Earth to dumbass.”

You blinked, abruptly pulled from your haze by the irritated voice across the table. Megumi was staring at you, brow furrowed, fingers drumming against the chipped ceramic of his coffee cup.

“You’ve been spacing out for the past five minutes,” he said flatly, taking a sip of his drink. “What the hell’s up with you lately?”

Your fingers curled around your own cup, but you barely registered the warmth seeping into your palms. Your mind was still stuck in the days before, still reeling from the way Toji had left you a mess—inside and out.

And then, he’d left his number.

You hadn’t even had time to process it before your phone buzzed later that night, his name—well, a name, since he saved himself as just ‘T’—lighting up your screen. Since then, you have been texting. Constantly. Not just late at night, but throughout the day, his presence worming its way into your routine, his words lingering in your head long after you locked your phone.

And fuck, the things he said.

Your thighs pressed together instinctively under the table, breath hitching as you thought about his last text. About how he described exactly what he wanted to do to you next time, about how he made sure you understood just how ruined you already were. How he had you sending him voice messages late at night, muffling your moans into your pillow while he groaned filth into your ear.

It wasn’t just dirty talk, though. Toji had a way of creeping into your head, teasing you about how you were already addicted to him, how he bet you couldn’t go a single day without thinking about how good he felt. And the worst part? He was right.

You had tried to keep the conversations short, to play it cool, but Toji was relentless. Always saying just enough to get under your skin, to have you squirming with frustration or anticipation. Like when he’d sent you a lazy, taunting text that morning:

Bet your legs are still sore, huh?

Good girl. Meant to do that.

Your stomach twisted just remembering it, the phantom ache between your thighs only proving his point. The way he talked to you—like you were already his, like you belonged to him—made your skin burn, made your breath hitch in a way you couldn’t control.

“You’re doing it again.” Megumi’s voice cut through your daze once more, and you nearly jumped. His gaze was sharper now, scrutinizing. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, too quickly. You grabbed your coffee, taking a sip to mask your flustered expression, but the heat did little to hide the flush crawling up your neck.

Megumi didn’t buy it. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Bullshit. You’re never this quiet.”

You swallowed, forcing a casual shrug. “Just tired.”

He frowned, clearly unconvinced. “You sure? Because you’ve been acting weird for days now. Spacing out, jumping at your phone like it’s gonna bite you—”

“I do not—”

“You do.” He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “And now you’re acting all weird and fidgety. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were talking to some guy.”

Your stomach twisted violently, fingers tightening around your cup. Megumi said it like a joke, like the idea of you sneaking around with someone was ridiculous. But if only he knew.

If only he knew that you had let his father, of all people, stretch you open on your own bed. That you had been texting him for days, hanging onto every filthy word, every little reminder of how thoroughly he had wrecked you. That even now, in the middle of a café, you could still feel the ghost of Toji’s hands on your skin, still hear the way he groaned your name in your ear.

You let out a nervous laugh, waving a dismissive hand. “Yeah, right.”

Megumi hummed, eyeing you for a long moment before finally sighing and dropping the subject. “Whatever. Just get your shit together for our group project. I’m going to murder Nobara if she keeps ghosting our group chat.”

You nodded, swallowing hard as you forced yourself to focus on the conversation, but your mind was already wandering again—right back to Toji.

It had become a bad habit.

A filthy, reckless, all-consuming bad habit.

You weren’t sure when it officially started—when the first time bled into the second, then the third, until keeping count felt pointless. Maybe it was when he first showed up outside your place late at night, an amused glint in his eye when you opened the door and let him in without question. Maybe it was when you started to leave it unlocked for him, knowing he’d come anyway.

Now, it was routine. Toji slipped into your sheets, into your body, into your life like he had every right to be there. He didn’t wait for an invitation anymore, just took what he wanted, when he wanted, and you let him—every damn time.

And it was never safe. Never careful. Always on the verge of getting caught.

A quick fuck in a restaurant bathroom between lectures. His large hand stuffed over your mouth, teeth sinking into your shoulder to muffle his own grunts as he forced you to stay quiet.

Bent over the hood of your car in an empty parking garage, the metal cool against your burning skin, his palm flat between your shoulders to keep you in place.

His fingers pressing into you under the table at a restaurant, his breath hot against your ear as he murmured filth, his other hand idly stirring his beer like he wasn’t two knuckles deep inside you.

It didn’t matter where, didn’t matter when. If he wanted you, he took you. And you let him.

You were addicted to the danger of it, to the sick thrill of knowing just how easily you could be found out.

And that was the worst part. Because despite knowing how disastrous it would be if anyone—if Megumi—found out, you still didn’t stop.

It was supposed to be just physical.

A bad decision. A reckless indulgence. Something to get out of your system before you went back to your real life—before you found someone appropriate, someone who made sense.

A mistake, then a bad habit, then something you stopped trying to name because there wasn’t a word for what you and Toji had become. It wasn’t love, wasn’t romance. But it wasn’t just fucking, either.

Somewhere between the nights tangled in his sheets and the stolen moments that left you breathless, the lines had blurred. It wasn’t just about the way he touched you anymore, or the way you fell apart under him. It was the way you felt when he looked at you like he knew you—really knew you. Like he saw past the carefully curated version of yourself that the rest of the world expected.

Toji had a way of dragging the real you to the surface, of unraveling you with nothing but a smirk and a well-placed taunt. He didn’t care about appearances, didn’t give a fuck about the prim and proper image you’d spent your entire life maintaining. With him, you didn’t have to be perfect. You could be messy, needy, selfish. You could whimper and beg and take everything he gave you without worrying about how it looked or what it meant.

And he liked that. He liked knowing he was the only one who got to see you like this. He liked reminding you of it, too, voice rough in your ear as he told you no one else could fuck you like he did, that no one else would ever know you like he did.

The worst part was that he was right.

But it wasn’t just him getting under your skin. You’d learned him, too, in ways you weren’t sure anyone else had. Toji wasn’t the type to open up, wasn’t the type to share unless he had something to gain. But you caught the way his expression softened sometimes, the way he listened when you talked, even if he pretended not to care. Like how he always remembered little details about you, things you hadn’t even realized you mentioned. How he never outright said it, but you could tell when he was listening, when he was paying attention. How he poked fun at the life you led but still entertained it in his own way—swiping a sip of your overpriced coffee just to grimace at the taste, picking at the expensive fabric of your clothes like he couldn’t believe people paid so much for something so impractical. He’d tease you about your rich girl problems, mock you for your spoiled habits, but then he’d fix your necklace when the clasp got caught in your hair, or toss his jacket over your shoulders when he thought you looked cold.

It was a push and pull, a delicate game neither of you acknowledged but played all the same. You weren’t sure when it had started feeling like more than a transaction, when the nights you spent together stopped being about lust and started being about something else entirely. Maybe it was the way he never left right away anymore. Maybe it was the way he pulled you against his chest when it was over, tracing lazy circles into your hip like he didn’t want to let go.

Or maybe it was the way you let him.

The air was thick with the lingering scent of cigarette smoke, the low hum of the city outside filtering through the open window. You sat at the edge of the bed, legs crossed, fingers curled into the plush fabric of the sheets. Toji was leaning back against the headboard, shirtless, sweat still cooling on his skin, lazily dragging from a cigarette. The orange ember flared as he inhaled, casting a fleeting glow over his sharp features.

You should’ve gotten dressed. Should’ve left already. But instead, you were here, tracing the seam of the pillowcase, debating how to say what you’d come here to say.

His eyes flicked to you, amused, like he could already tell something was on your mind. “You’re quiet.”

You hesitated. “I have something to tell you.”

Toji exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl toward the ceiling. “That so?”

You nodded, swallowing. Your throat felt tight. “I’m getting engaged soon.”

There was a pause. A beat where all you could hear was the faint hum of the city beyond the window.

Then Toji huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Knew it was comin’.”

Your stomach twisted. There was no shock in his voice. No real reaction at all. Just that same damn smirk, lazy and knowing, like he had been waiting for this moment.

He flicked the cigarette into the ashtray, stretching his arms above his head. His muscles flexed, shifting under his scarred skin. “Guess that means our little arrangement’s gotta end, huh?” He was grinning now, but there was something biting underneath it. “Wouldn’t wanna mess up your perfect little life.”

You swallowed, your gaze searching his. Trying to find something beneath that smug exterior. Something real.

But Toji just smirked wider, eyes half-lidded as he raked a slow glance down your bare skin. “What’s the lucky guy like? Bet he’s got a nice suit, fancy-ass watch. S’what your folks always wanted, huh?”

You said nothing.

He tsked, shaking his head. “What a shame.” Then his hand was on your chin, fingers firm, tilting your face up to his. His grip was possessive, almost cruel. “Hope he knows what he’s gettin’. ‘Cause I sure as hell do.”

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was deep and filthy, like he was branding you—making damn sure you remembered exactly who had you first. His teeth scraped against your lower lip, his tongue claiming your mouth, a cruel mockery of every time he had pulled you under him and ruined you. His grip tightened when you whimpered, and his other hand found your waist, dragging you closer like he didn’t care that you had just told him you belonged to someone else.

Because right now, you still belonged to him.

And he was making sure you never forgot it.

The arrangement dwindled the way all things doomed to end eventually did.

It wasn’t abrupt, wasn’t some dramatic confrontation—it simply faded. A slow decline, a natural withering. The late-night texts became scarce. The stolen moments fewer. The lingering touches reduced to nothing. You got busier, consumed by the responsibilities of graduation, the whirlwind of your engagement, the pressure of stepping into the life that had always been laid out for you.

And Toji let it happen.

He saw it coming. Of course, he did. He always knew this was temporary, a guilty indulgence neither of you should’ve entertained for as long as you did. He didn’t chase, didn’t demand an explanation. His last message had been weeks before the wedding, something teasing, something impersonal—one last echo of the man who had unraveled you so thoroughly.

You hadn’t replied.

The wedding was perfect. A masterpiece of wealth and status, orchestrated down to the finest details. The Italian villa gleamed under the golden afternoon sun, its marble floors reflecting the light of extravagant chandeliers. Crystal glasses chimed in elegant toasts, the air thick with the scent of imported florals, the hum of string instruments weaving seamlessly into murmured conversations.

You were the picture of a bride who had it all. Draped in delicate lace, diamonds glittering at your ears and throat, the weight of expectation settled as effortlessly as the veil cascading down your back. Chloe, Marissa, and Julia—your bridesmaids, your childhood friends, your social equals—stood beside you in gowns carefully chosen to complement your own, their smiles radiant, their laughter effortless.

“Your husband is absolutely smitten,” Chloe teased, adjusting the bracelet on her wrist as she leaned in. “I don’t think he’s taken his eyes off you all evening.”

“He’d be a fool if he did,” Marissa added with a smirk, sipping her champagne. “God, this whole thing looks like something out of a dream. You’ve really outdone yourself.”

Julia sighed wistfully, watching the crowd swirl around the dance floor. “It’s everything we imagined when we were little, isn’t it?”

You smiled—because it was expected, because you knew the right expression, the right words, the right way to nod as if everything was falling into place exactly as it should.

And yet, your mind wandered.

Across the room, Megumi sat among the other honored guests, suited up and polished, the image of the young man he was always meant to be. A quiet presence, sharp-eyed and observant, a reminder of a past that should have been long buried. Your gaze lingered on him too long, searching, tracing the familiar shadows of his father in the angles of his face. The resemblance sent a ripple through you, something unsteady and unshakable.

Toji should not have been in your thoughts today. And yet, he was everywhere. In the phantom sensation of calloused hands gripping your hips, in the echo of a gravelly chuckle against your ear, in the ghost of bruises long faded but never truly gone.

Your husband touched the small of your back, his warmth a contrast to the chill creeping up your spine. “You look beautiful,” he murmured, his voice full of quiet reverence.

You turned to him, offering the practiced softness he deserved. He was good, kind, everything your family had hoped for. Everything you had been raised to want.

So why did you feel like a guest in your own life?

The clinking of glasses signaled another toast, another moment to be captured, another perfect memory being curated for the life you were meant to lead. You lifted your champagne flute, smiled for the cameras, and played your part with practiced grace.

But deep down, you knew.

No matter how beautiful the setting, how flawless the performance, there was a version of you that had been left behind in tangled sheets and rough hands, in whispered taunts and breathless gasps. A version of you that had been ruined long before you ever recited your vows at the altar.

The wedding night only made you remember the gruff man with the scar running through his lip and a pair of poisonous green eyes.

Your new husband held you in his arms, kissed you with a gentleness that should’ve made you feel cherished, safe, loved. He was everything you were supposed to want—handsome, well-mannered, well-bred, the kind of man your parents would be proud of. He looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. And yet, you felt nothing.

Not like you did with Toji.

Because with Toji, there had never been any pretending. He had seen you, the real you, in ways no one else ever had. He had stripped you bare—of your clothes, of your composure, of every carefully constructed part of yourself that you wore like armor. And you had let him. You had loved it. Because for once, you weren’t the perfect daughter, the perfect student, the perfect bride-to-be.

You were just his.

And now, lying beside the man you were supposed to spend your life with, you couldn’t stop thinking about the one you had left behind.

The illusion of a picture-perfect marriage was easy to maintain.

You had stepped into the role seamlessly—graceful, poised, the ever-dutiful wife draped in luxury. The townhome was pristine, the social obligations fulfilled without fault, the smiles exchanged between you and your husband warm enough to never invite suspicion.

And yet, beneath the surface, something gnawed at you. A restlessness. A quiet, lingering hunger.

It wasn’t love that was missing; it was something far more visceral, far more ruinous. The kind of fire you had known in secret, in sin, in the hands of a man who had no place in your world but had left his mark so deeply that even months of distance hadn’t erased him.

You weren’t supposed to see him again.

It happened at a gala—a refined, exclusive event, the kind your husband thrived in. Champagne flutes clinked, laughter hummed through the room, and you played your part to perfection, offering effortless smiles, exchanging pleasantries, standing at your husband’s side like a perfectly placed accessory.

And then you saw him.

Toji.

He didn’t belong in a place like this, and yet, there he was—leaning against the bar, broad and imposing in a tailored black suit that fit him too well, the collar slightly loosened as if he refused to be fully tamed. The same lazy smirk, the same sharp green eyes raking over you with a knowing amusement, as if he had been expecting this moment.

He looked the same as he did the last time he held you in his arms all those months ago.

Your breath hitched. Heat coiled low in your stomach, unbidden, unwanted. Your steps slowed to a stop, your left hand clenching around the stem of the perspiring champagne flute.

"Look at you," he drawled, swirling the amber liquid in his glass before setting it down. His eyes dragged to the glittering diamond on your left hand. "All wifed up and still starin' like you want me to bend you over this table."

Your throat went dry.

You should walk away. You should say something dismissive, feign indifference, remind him—and most importantly, yourself—that you had moved on. But the words didn’t come, and Toji stepped closer, his presence cutting through the air like a knife, his scent filling your lungs, something deep and masculine and maddeningly familiar.

Your husband was still in the room, but far enough, engrossed in conversation, unaware. You weren’t in his direct line of sight—only a corner of the grand ballroom, tucked away just enough for shadows to swallow what should never happen.

Toji’s fingers brushed your wrist, barely a touch, and yet your body reacted, betraying you. His hand took your drink from you, setting it down on a nearby end table, his calloused fingers stroking your fingers, the hardness of your wedding ring. His smirk deepened at the way your breath hitched, at the way your lashes fluttered.

"Bet he don’t fuck you the way I did, huh?" His voice was low, rough, dripping with sin. "Bet you still think about it. How I stretched this tight little cunt. How you took it like you were made for me."

A shaky breath escaped you. The world around you blurred, the weight of your choices pressing in from all sides.

You really shouldn’t do this. Shouldn’t even be entertaining those thoughts in your head. But then again, had he really left your head in the first place?

During the nights your husband kissed you, tried to fuck you, you found that there was much left to desire. Sometimes, you had to close your eyes and pretend it was a scarred lip kissing you sloppily, that same embrace that reminded you more of a furnace wrapping around your frame, and a pair of smoldering, dark green eyes boring into your own to even bring you close to cumming.

His knuckles grazed your jaw, thumb dragging along your lower lip, teasing, testing. Your lips parted slightly, betraying you, and Toji hummed, gaze flicking down.

"Still got that pretty little mouth, too," he murmured, voice thick with something darker, heavier. "Miss havin' it all fucked dumb for me."

You swallowed hard, pulse hammering against your ribs.

And then he leaned in, lips barely grazing your ear, his breath warm and deliberate. "Be honest, sweetheart. You miss me?"

Your silence was answer enough.

The fire had never gone out. It had only been waiting to be reignited.

[vmpireslut]

BRAT TAMER! 𝜗𝜚

sum𝜗𝜚 toji despises working. he'd rather be off gambling, losing himself in the thrill and chaos of the games. but then he meets you, his new client's spoiled daughter. it's okay, though... he's a brat tamer.

wc𝜗𝜚 6.6k [oopsie]

warnings𝜗𝜚 SEMI PROOF-READ, older!pervtoji, masterbation, fingering, female + male oral, cum eating, squirting, creaming, choking, spitting, explicit language, toji is kind of mean, reader is annoying, age-gap [reader is 19 toji is 35] just a whole lot of nasty shit, enjoy hornies!

Toji Zenin really hated working. The same boring tasks, the long hours, the wear and tear on his body, and the relentless sun made every day feel like a drag. But there was one thing that made it all a bit more bearable: his client. More specifically, his client’s daughter. Sure, it was a bit taboo to have thoughts about a girl so much younger, but he couldn’t help himself.

Those shorts of yours were always way too tight, hugging your curves like they were made for you. And those shirts? Toji was pretty sure you didn’t even own a bra, especially with how your nipples would poke through the fabric whenever he caught a glimpse of you.

You had no shame, showing off that gorgeous body and cute face at every opportunity. It was like you wanted to be noticed in those revealing outfits, strutting around in swimsuits that left little to the imagination. He’d even seen your pussy lips once as you’d bent down near the pool, he remembers because he’d spent the entirety of his lunch break fisting his raging boner in a hot portable toilet.

Not exactly his finest hour.

You were undeniably a brat, completely indulged by your widowed father who was eager to fulfill every whim of his precious daughter. With wealth, a stunning home, a devoted dad, and your charming looks, it was no surprise that you carried the air of entitlement. Toji, however, found a certain appeal in your spoiled nature; he preferred you as a brat rather than a timid wallflower. From his perspective, brats were easier to tame. Most days, he found himself lost in fantasies of you. Daydreaming about your pretty little cunt warped about his cock.

It frustrated him how deeply you had woven yourself into his life. He couldn’t even get into it with his casual fling anymore unless he pictured you, and man, did that feel amazing.

"Dad!"

Speak of the Devil. The sound of your voice filled the air just as the front gate slammed behind you. Fresh from your weekly shopping spree with friends, you made your entrance. Toji felt a surge of frustration as the sharp click of your heels echoed on the cement. He turned away from his work space, his gaze fixed on you as you sauntered over, your hips swaying and oversized sunglasses perched on your nose.

He couldn't help but observe as you approached your father, a look of irritation etched on your face. Perhaps you had finally hit your credit card limit. With a sulky pout and arms crossed beneath your perky breasts, you pushed them up, and his thoughts spiraled.

Toji wanted nothing more than to rip the tank top off your body, pull your nipples between his fingers and twist them until you were crying.

"My card was declined!"

Toji struggled to suppress a laugh, biting down on the inside of his cheek. What a foolish little brat. Your father shot you a disapproving glance, and you let out an exasperated huff, stomping your foot like the spoiled child you were.

"I was at the mall trying to buy a cute dress, and the card didn't go through! So, I called the bank and they said it was declined!"

Your father sighed, and Toji could have sworn he saw the old man roll his eyes. He must have been fed up with having to coddle an adult woman.

"Listen, sweetheart. I already mentioned that I won't be giving you another allowance until next week. Perhaps it's time you learned how to manage your money, or maybe I should restrict your card usage. Clearly, this isn't working out." You gasped in response, and Toji couldn't help but feel a bit taken aback.

Maybe your dad wasn't as soft as he seemed. He felt a twinge of sympathy for him, having to handle a spoiled daughter like you.

“That's so unfair!" You cried, turning away from your dad, arms flailing and he swore he saw you kick a rock like a toddler having a tantrum. "I hate this fucking place! It's so hot and the bugs are everywhere. I can't stand it! Shopping is the only thing that keeps me sane." You yelled.

He noticed your dad wince, and Toji could already picture the headache brewing in the man's mind. "Mind your language," he said calmly, but you just scoffed.

"Or what?"

Toji could predict how this would unfold. Your dad would let out a resigned sigh and give in, while you'd strut away with a triumphant grin.

"Go to your room; you're done for the day. Sit there and think about your behavior. You're clearly too worked up," he said, and you stared at him in disbelief. "Are you serious?" you yelled, and he shook his head.

"I mean it. You're too agitated, and I don't want you to say or do something you'll regret later. Please, just go to your room," he insisted, and Toji had to suppress a laugh. It was clear you were at a loss for how to respond. You stomped your feet again and huffed in frustration.

"Fine."

As you marched toward your room, the sound of your heels echoed sharply, culminating in a loud slam of the door. Your father exhaled deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose while muttering softly to himself. "Kids..." he murmured, glancing at Toji with a sympathetic expression.

"I apologize for that. She's dealing with a lot at the moment." Toji responded with a reassuring shake of his head. "It's all good," he said, prompting a smile from your father.

“Thank you Toji. You’re a great guy, and you’ve done an amazing job with building the shed so far.”

“Thanks, sir,” he responded. Your dad turned his gaze toward your bedroom window, and Toji’s eyes followed suit. You were anxiously pacing, phone pressed to your ear, a scowl etched on your face. Your father frowned, and Toji cleared his throat, feeling the tension in the air.

Toji had never really had a conversation with you, and the only time he did, you had unleashed a torrent of curses at him. It was his first day on the job, and you had come down wearing nothing but a silk pink robe, clearly annoyed at being stirred from your sleep so early in the morning.

He stood there, taking in the sight of you descending the steps, the silk draping around your figure. He could see the gentle curves of your body, the outline of your bare breasts, the shape of your hips, and the smoothness of your legs.

"Do you realize how ridiculously early it is? It's seven, you dick!" You shot, glaring at Toji with a fiery intensity. He raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by your attitude. It was obvious you were still in the process of waking up, not fully aware of who was standing there.

"Miss, I recommend you mind your language," he replied, and he could have sworn he noticed a shiver run through you. Your lovely lips parted slightly, a soft gasp escaping, and Toji had to fight the urge to grin. So, you enjoyed being spoken to like that. He cleared his throat and stepped closer, looking down at you with a playful smirk.

He didn’t spare you a second glance, not even flinching when the front door slammed shut behind you. From that moment on, you shot him daggers every time he crossed your path, throwing out sarcastic remarks whenever your father was out of earshot. Your behavior only escalated, and Toji was certain your dad was on the verge of exploding. But Toji believed he could change you; he was confident he could take that defiant attitude and transform it. He was certain of it. He would fuck that ego right out of you and mold it into a perfect little slut, ready and willing to please him.

"I still have a few tasks to finish up around the house. Thanks again, Toji," your father remarked, and Toji simply nodded.

"Absolutely."

The two shared a smile and the older man went back inside, leaving Toji to his thoughts. His mind wandered to all the possibilities and ways he could take you apart. He could see it now, his large hand holding yours down, forcing you to stay still as he pounded into your tight cunt. His other hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing tight as he made you cum, the walls of your pussy clenching around him. He'd pull out and force his cock down your throat, forcing you to choke on him. He'd fill you with his seed, spilling everything down your throat, watching as you swallowed his hot cum, a blissful look on your face.

God, the thoughts were intoxicating.

He would break you, mold you, bend you, and make you his own personal toy. You were going to be his.

He would make sure of it.

Your father had kept his promise; he had cut off your credit card and confined you to the house. It felt like a never-ending limbo. Most of your days were spent buried in a cheesy romance novel by the pool or dozing off. For the past few weeks, your dad had been working late, leaving you to dine solo and binge-watch reruns of old TV shows. It was downright dismal.

He even spent his evenings holed up in his office, tackling whatever tasks awaited him. The atmosphere was heavy with loneliness. You could sense his disappointment in your behavior, but who could really blame you? This house was a snooze fest. While your friends were off enjoying their summer adventures, you were stuck here.

They couldn’t even swing by to visit because of their packed schedules. Still, they called regularly, sharing tales of their escapades and new crushes. You appreciated their efforts to keep you in the loop, but those conversations only filled the emptiness for so long.

Today, you decided to lounge by the pool, soaking up the sun on a comfy chair. You donned your favorite bikini, a stylish white and gold set, the straps loosely tied, barely holding everything in place. The high-waisted bottoms accentuated your curves perfectly. Beside you, a refreshing glass of lemonade and a colorful mix of fruits—cherries, pineapples, and more—sat waiting. Your book lay on your stomach, eager for your attention once more.

The pool was stunning, and it had always been one of your favorite places to escape to. The water sparkled like crystal, the waterfall cascaded beautifully, and the palm trees swayed gently above. It was the sole reason you tolerated living in such a sweltering climate. However, there was one major drawback: the man who is building the shed. Toji, you learned was his name.

You couldn't stand him. He was insufferably rude and full of himself. His looks only made matters worse. You despised how incredibly handsome he was. You had never encountered a man so striking before. The definition of his arms, the chiseled jawline, and the width of his shoulders were infuriating.

His dark eyes, sun-kissed skin, and flowing dark hair only added to your irritation. It was maddening how flawless he appeared. Just the thought of him made your blood boil. He was so self-satisfied and arrogant, and the way he acted like he was superior to you drove you up the wall.

“Whatcha reading?”

You startled at the sound of his voice, glancing over to find Toji casually leaning against the patio door, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. His white button-up shirt was rolled up, showcasing his well-defined arms. A warm flush crept across your cheeks. Why the fuck was he so handsome?

"What do you want?" you shot back, setting your book aside.

"I just wanted to see if you needed anything," he said, striding over to the chair beside you and pulling it closer. "Your dad mentioned he’d be working late and I thought I could order dinner for you," he added, a hint of mischief in his tone, causing your brows to knit together in confusion.

"Why the hell would you order dinner for me? I can do it myself.”

"Because I'm a nice guy, and it would suck for a pretty girl like you to have to fend for herself." He responded, a sly smile on his lips and you couldn't help the small shiver that went down your spine. You shook the thoughts from your head and rolled your eyes.

"Yeah, right. You just want to get in my pants. Don't try to act like a good guy, I know exactly who you are. My dad's a great guy, he'd never hire a creep like you."

"Is that what you think?"

You didn't answer, a scowl forming on your face.

"Well, if I'm a creep, then what does that make you?"

"What?"

"Come on, don't act dumb. I know you get off on teasing me."

"You're a fucking pervert.”

"Maybe."

His grin was wolfish, and he looked predatory, leaning forward and staring you down. "Tell me, have you been a good girl lately? Or have you been naughty?"

"I-"

"You've been very bratty lately. I know your dad's getting sick of it."

You swallowed thickly, a blush coating your cheeks. How could he read you so well?

"But, don't worry. I can fix you."

"Fix me? What are you talking about?"

"You're spoiled. And I'll change that."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I know you want it. I can tell."

He leaned back, his arm resting on the back of the chair.

"And, if you're good, I'll reward you."

"Reward me?"

He grinned and nodded, leaning forward and pressing his lips against your ear.

"Yes. If you're a good girl, I'll fuck you like the slut you are."

He pulled back, the grin never leaving his face.

"Think about it, princess."

He winked, standing up and turning away, a chuckle leaving him.

You were speechless, your heart racing, and a blush coloring your cheeks. The heat pooled between your legs and you shifted. What the fuck was wrong with him? Did he really think you would let him fuck you?

Who were you kidding, you were already soaked.

"Dick..." You muttered, shaking your head.

That night, you couldn't get him out of your head. The way his words had sent shivers down your spine, the way his gaze had been filled with lust. It was so...wrong, but it was a wrong you wanted. You didn't care, and the idea of getting caught only added to the thrill. You'd already spent an hour in the shower, the warm water and the detachable shower head bringing you to orgasm after orgasm. You could still hear his voice, the raspy tone, the way his words dripped with sex and lust. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew he had you right where he wanted. You could hear his chuckle echoing in your head, his grin filling your mind.

It was sad, really.

How could a man you didn't even like have this effect on you?

It was ridiculous.

You couldn't believe you were letting him get into your mind.

He was a fucking creep.

A handsome, sexy, confident creep.

A sudden knock at the door jolted you from your reverie, causing you to startle and sit up abruptly. You quickly snatched a towel, wrapping its comforting softness around you before swinging the door open. There he stood, the man who had been lingering in your thoughts.

" What the hell are you doing here?!"

"I brought the pizza. I told you I was getting dinner." He replied, a grin on his lips and you scoffed.

"Why did you bring it up here?"

"I was trying to be nice, and besides. I didn't know when your dad was going to be home."

He stepped forward, forcing his way into the room, and setting the box down on the bed.

"You're such a dick." You muttered, crossing your arms.

"Am I?"

"Yes."

"What's wrong with me bringing food to the boss' daughter?"

"Nothing. But, that's not why you're here."

"And, what do you think I'm here for?"

"Don't play dumb, you already told me."

"Oh, is that right?" He chuckled. “Do you think about me when you touch yourself?"

You were taken aback by his sudden question, your eyes widening.

"Whaa—No, I don't."

"Then, why are you so wet?"

“I just got out of the shower wise guy. Get out.”

He grinned and stepped closer, and you took a step back.

"Y’know, the walls are thin. So, it's easy to hear the moans and gasps of a girl when she touches herself. But, hey. What would I know? I'm just a construction guy."

You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment. Had he really heard you masturbate?

"S-shut up. I don't know what you're talking about.” You felt your heart race and the towel slip down slightly. You moved to fix it, and he stepped forward, his hand moving towards your neck.

"Let me take care of that for you."

He gripped the towel, his lips crashing onto yours in a passionate kiss. There was a fierce hunger in him, as he explored your mouth with fervor. His tongue danced inside, teasing the roof of your mouth. Meanwhile, his other hand found its way to your breasts, fingers pinching your nipple with a playful intensity earning a whine from you. He broke the kiss, trailing his lips down to your neck, planting soft kisses that turned into gentle bites on your sensitive skin. As he pulled back, a satisfied grin spread across his face as he gazed down at you.

"Get on the bed."

"Wha-what?"

"Get on the bed."

You were surprised by his commanding tone, and you could feel your cunt aching. You walked towards the bed, your knees hitting the edge of the mattress and you fell back. You looked up at him, and he smiled.

"Take off the towel."

You did as he said, pulling the towel away and revealing your naked body. He licked his lips, a hungry expression in his eyes.

"Touch yourself."

Your hands moved to your breasts, cupping the mounds and rolling your nipples between your fingers. You let out a soft gasp, your head falling back. you began to rub your sensitive clit. You were already wet, the thought of being watched had made you dripping. The pleasure that shot through you made your knees weak and your eyes fluttered closed.

You heard his voice again, this time closer to your ear and you shuddered.

"Good girl."

“Oh god..."

"Spread your legs wider."

You whimpered, moving your legs farther apart and you sank a finger inside of you. Your body quivered as you slowly began pumping your hand and the warmth began to build in your belly.

"Yes...that's it."

You cried out softly as you slipped another finger inside of you, pumping them faster and faster. Your body tingled. Toji watched, his cock aching for release in his pants. You looked so slutty spread out for him like this, slickness leaking down your ass. He wanted to shove his dick into your hot, tight pussy, but he restrained himself. You were his to command.

"Faster. Fuck yourself faster."

"Nghh...I-I..."

"Come for me, kitten."

You moaned, your walls clenching around your fingers. You were already sore from your previous orgasms, but you felt another one quickly coming. You moved your hips, trying to get more friction.

"That's right. Ride your hand like a little whore. Cum for me. Now."

"A-Ahh!"

Your hips bucked against your hand and you came, squirting over your fingers and onto the floor. Your chest heaved, your body trembling as you sank down into the matress.

Toji growled lowly, the sight of your glistening pussy and the smell of your sex made him feel dizzy. He pulled his hard cock out of his pants and stroked it quickly, his thumb rubbing over his fat tip. You felt him climb onto the bed and his hand gripped the back of your neck.

"Open your mouth."

You obeyed, gasping as you felt him rub the head of his cock against your tongue. He pumped his hand, thrusting into your mouth and making you gag. Your jaw ached as he fucked your mouth.

"Take my cock...nghh."

Toji groaned, his eyes closed and his face scrunched up. You could feel him twitching on your tongue. You moaned around him, sending a wave of pleasure through him. His hand squeezed the back of your neck tighter.

"Suck harder ughh."

Your eyes rolled back into your head as he forced his entire length down your throat, the tip of his cock touching the back of your tongue. Tears formed in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you struggled to breathe.

"Mmghhh."

You tried to relax your throat, sucking on his cock the best you could. Your hands clenched the sheets.

"That's a good girl."

He grunted, his cock pulsating.

"M-Mmm You take me so well, kitten.”

You were drooling, spit and precum dribbling down your chin. It was disgusting. He pulled back and you took a deep inhale.

"Did I tell you to stop?"

"N-no."

"No, what?"

"No, sir."

"Then get back to work."

"Yes, sir."

He growled and thrust his hips.

"Good, baby."

He groaned, hands finding themselves in your hair.

"Fuck. I'm gonna come soon. You ready for me, baby? Gonna swallow every drop?"

"Yes, please."

"Good, good girl."

His thrusts became faster and more erratic, his breathing shallow.

"Ahh. Fuck, yeah. G’na come."

He hated how fast he was nearing his end, but the way you gobbled him down and squeezed his balls in time with your tongue had him spiraling. Your every movement was calculated, each flick of your tongue and squeeze of your hand driving him closer to the edge. He could feel the tension building within him, a mix of pleasure and desperation that left him breathless. The intensity of your touch, combined with your unwavering eye contact, made it impossible for him to hold back any longer.

“Ughhhh fuckkkkk!” He threw his head back and came, shooting thick ropes of his hot seed down your throat. You swallowed, moaning and milking him for everything he had. You felt him shiver, his muscles tensing as he came down. He looked down at you, his eyes dark and wild.

He grabbed you by the arm, yanking you up to your feet and crushing his mouth to yours. You could feel the heat from his body and you melted against him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His hands were all over you, his lips on your neck. He was heavy and hot, pressing you into the mattress. He kissed his way down your chest and stomach, his fingers brushing the wet folds of your pussy.

"Toji!”

"Mm, you're still so wet."

"F-for youuuu."

"You like being touched like this?"

"Uh huh."

He slipped a finger inside of you, his thumb brushing your clit. You whined, as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, biting it gently. You writhed underneath him, his name a constant prayer. He added another finger, stretching you, finding that special gummy spot. You arched your back, moaning loudly.

A desperate whine leaves your lips when he suddenly pulls away, tucking his cock back into his pants. You look up at him, pouting.

"What? What's wrong?"

"You didn't fuck me."

"That wasn't the plan, princess."

"I hate you. Pervert.”

He chuckles, patting your thigh.

"No, you don't."

He gets up and walks out of the room, leaving you panting and unsatisfied.

"Fucking dick.”

Toji had you completely under his spell. His piercing gaze and self-assured presence made it impossible for you to look away. Each time you attempted to shift your focus elsewhere, your mind would inevitably circle back to him. The way he moved, the way he spoke—everything about him was magnetic, pulling you in deeper.

He was aware of the effect he had on you. A glimmer of satisfaction danced in his eyes whenever he caught you watching him. It was as if he relished the control he held, knowing you were utterly entranced by his aura. Despite your attempts to fight it, a rush of excitement coursed through you every time he was close.

It became a familiar pattern where Toji would bend you over, his fingers exploring you until you either squirted or cried out his name in ecstasy. Yet, he never crossed that final line, leaving you both frustrated and yearning. Your father noticed your newfound cheerfulness, but you brushed it off with a casual shrug. Eventually, he returned your credit card and lifted your grounding, but your thoughts remained consumed by Toji.

“Oh yeah honey, I invited Toji over for dinner.”

You froze, and looked up from the raw chicken.

"What? Why?"

"I wanted to thank him for helping us out, he’s done a great job. Don’t ya think?”

"Why can't we just send him a gift basket or something?"

"Because that would be rude. Besides, he's a nice guy. He deserves to be treated like a guest."

You sighed and tightened your grip on the meat tenderizer. The truth was, you hadn’t spoken to Toji in days; he seemed to be keeping his distance. The thought of being in the same space with him was daunting, especially after everything that had happened between you two.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your racing heart. Surely, he wouldn’t do anything with your father around, right? You shook off the thought and concentrated on your cooking, but the anxiety swirling in your chest was hard to ignore.

When Toji finally entered the dining room, you were a bundle of nerves. A mix of excitement and dread washed over you as he stepped inside. His mere presence seemed to dominate the room, and you struggled to keep your eyes from lingering on him.

"Hey, thanks for inviting me."

"Of course, Toji. It's the least we could do."

You kept your head down and focused on your food the entire night, ignoring the urge to look at him.

"You okay, pumpkin? You're very quiet tonight."

"I'm fine."

"She's probably just tired." Toji said.

Your eyes grew wide as you locked eyes with him, feeling the intensity of his stare pierce through you, sending your heart into a frenzy. The urge to reach out and slap him was strong, but you knew better than to provoke your father’s suspicion. So, you bit your tongue and focused on your meal instead.

Once dinner was over, your father retreated to his study, Toji having promised to clean up, leaving you two in an awkward silence. The tension in the room was palpable, with both of you at a loss for words. You felt an overwhelming desire to shout at him, to accuse him of being a creep and to have used you. To demand he leave, but the words just wouldn’t come. Instead, you remained there, simmering with frustration.

At last, he shattered the stillness.

"So, how are you liking the new semester?"

"Fine."

"Any problems?"

"No."

He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"Listen, I know you're mad at me."

"Mad? I'm fucking furious. What the fuck is your deal, Toji? You get me hooked then you go ghost?”

"Hooked?"

"You know what I mean."

He chuckled, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table. "It was just a bit of fun. Didn't mean anything by it."

"Bullshit. I'm not stupid. Why are you playing with me?"

He locks his hands under his chin. "I'm not playing with you."

You glared. "Yes, you are. I can see it in your eyes. You want me."

He sighed and shook his head.

"You're a kid. It would be inappropriate."

"I'm not a kid."

"Yeah, you are. Look, it's nothing personal. I just don't date girls like you."

"Girls like me?"

"Rich kids with their own personal army."

"I'm not-"

"Save it. I know who your dad is. I'm not interested in getting mixed up in his business, it was a mistake doing those things with you."

You swallowed thickly, his words like a slap.

"Then why the hell are you here?"

"Because I was invited."

"You're such a dick."

You were angry, but you couldn't help but notice how his eyes seemed to darken. You wondered if he was thinking the same thing as you. What it would be like to have him pin you down and fuck you. The thought made your cheeks flush.

"You know, I bet if I told your father what we'd been doing, he'd have a very different opinion of you."

"Is that a threat?"

"No. Just a reminder. Don't forget who's in charge here."

"Fuck you."

"I don't fuck little girls."

You could feel your anger rising, and you were tempted to throw something at him. But you knew he was right. He was in control, and there was nothing you could do about it.

"So, what now? Are we just going to pretend like nothing happened?"

"If that's what you want."

"I don't know what I want."

"Well, then I guess we're at an impasse."

"I hate you."

"Don't be dramatic. You barely know me."

"I know enough. You're a jerk and a bully."

"And you're a spoiled brat who needs to learn some respect."

You scoffed at him, clenching your fists.

"Don't push me, princess."

"Or what? What are you gonna do?"

"Oh, I can think of a few things." He quipped.

His eyes were dark and full of promise, and you could feel yourself growing wet.

"I bet."

"You wanna find out?"

“What I want is to slap that grin off your stupid face."

"Slap me. Do it."

"No."

"Why not? Too scared?"

"No."

"Then do it." He urges.

"Stop it."

"What? You're the one who's always pushing my buttons. Come on, princess. Show me what you got."

You stand and lift your hand, striking him sharply across the face, the crack resonating throughout the room. A sharp intake of breath escaped you, and your eyes widened in shock. His cheek flushed crimson, clearly marked by the outline of your hand. He smirked and ran his tongue over his lips.

"There. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"You're an asshole."

"Yeah, and you're a spoiled bitch who likes to get fucked with my fingers."

You could feel your face flush, and you turned away from him.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

"Fine. Go fuck yourself." You sigh.

"Nah, I think I'll have you do it."

He chuckled, his voice deep and low.

"Oh, I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" You snapped.

"No. Not with you. Never."

"Really? Not even a little?"

"Not even a little." You rolled your eyes.

"Come on, princess. You can't lie to me. I can see it in your eyes. I can practically smell the desire on you."

"Shut up."

"Why? Because I'm right?"

"No, because you're annoying."

"So, you're not interested? Not even a little?"

"Fuck you, bipolar ass."

"Ooh, feisty. I like it."

"I hate you."

"The feeling's mutual, sweetheart."

He was the one with the upper hand, and there was nothing you could do about it. He stands up from the table, face inches from yours. “Ya think if fucked you on this table lil ol’ daddy would hear?” You felt your pulse quicken, and a wave of arousal wash over you. "What? No snarky comeback?"

"You're a fucking pig."

"I might be, but at least I'm honest about it. Unlike you."

He stepped closer, his body pressing against yours. "Tell me, princess. Do you like the idea of being fucked on your family's expensive table?" You could feel his erection pressing against your hip, and you could barely contain the moan that threatened to escape.

"Tell me. Is this turning you on? The idea of being used like a cheap whore, your father just down the hall."

"Fuck you." You shakily breathe out. “You'd like that, wouldn't you? For me to bend you over and fuck your tight little pussy. Make you scream my name while your daddy is sipping his scotch, completely oblivious."

"Enough Toji.”

"What's the matter, princess? Don't want your daddy to know what a dirty little slut you are? How you’re fucking a grimy old man.”

"I'm not a slut."

"Could've fooled me. With the way you're always begging for my cock."

"I am not!"

"Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. We both know the truth."

You could feel your face burning, and you were desperate to put some distance between the two of you. But his body was like a brick wall, and you couldn't move.

"Get off of me."

"Why? Afraid you might enjoy it?"

"You’re…disgusting"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? If I bent you over and fucked you right here, right now. Made you scream so loud your daddy would come running. Wouldn't that be fun?"

You were furious, but the truth was, his words were turning you on. You couldn't deny the heat that was pooling between your legs, or the way your nipples were straining against your shirt.

"What's wrong, princess? Cat got your tongue?"

"Fuck. You."

"Mm, that's more like it."

His hand snaked up your shirt, his fingers grazing your nipples. You couldn't stop the moan that escaped your lips, and you cursed yourself for being so weak.

"That's right, baby. Let me hear you."

"Stop it."

"Why? You don't like it?"

"No."

"Liar."

He squeezed your left bud, and you had to bite your lip to keep from crying out. "You like that, don't you? You like being manhandled by a real man. Not some preppy rich boy."

"Please."

"Please, what? Stop? Or keep going?"

"Keep…going."

"That's what I thought."

His hand dipped lower. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you wore this skirt for him. For easy access, of course. The way it hugged your curves, the way it rode up just enough to tease him, it was all too perfect. He couldn't help but think you knew exactly what you were doing. His hands slid up your thighs, feeling the soft fabric and the warmth of your skin beneath. As he lifted the skirt higher, his breath hitched, and he couldn't wait to ruin you. His fingers brushing against the growing wet spot on your pink laced panties.

"Such a dirty little slut. Look at you, already soaking wet and I've barely touched you."

"Fuck."

"Mmm, you want that, don't you? You want me to fuck you. Right here. Right now. In your daddy's house. Where he could walk in any minute and catch us."

"Please."

"Beg me."

"Please, fuck me."

"Good girl."

He pressed his thumb against your clit, and you mewled in pleasure.

“So loud, no respect."

You gripped the edge of the table, trying to steady yourself as he continued to assault your senses. His fingers were relentless, teasing and stroking, and soon, you were a writhing mess.

”Open your mouth.” he commands, a mischievous glint in his eyes. your mind is foggy, and you find yourself following his directions, opening your mouth slightly. You winch as his fingers dig into your cheeks, a glob of spit trickling from his mouth into yours. You can taste the acidity and bitterness as it slides down your throat. Your mind screams to pull away, but your body ignores it. The corners of his mouth twitch into a grin, his fingers leaving your face to grip your hair tightly.

The first slap sends your head flying, a dull ache beginning in the right side of your skull. He holds you in place and slaps you again, this time your teeth cut into your lip and the metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. His eyes narrow, the grip on your hair tightening.

“Gonna fix you.”

"Please. Please."

"What? What do you want, princess?"

"I want… I want you."

"You want me to fuck you? To make you come?"

"Yes. God, yes."

"Say it."

"Please, fuck me."

He pushed your panties aside, his fingers delving into your slick heat. You sobbed, unable to contain the pleasure coursing through your body. He smirked, watching your expression as he slowly finger-fucked you.

"God, you're so fucking wet."

"Please. Please, don't stop."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

He added another finger, stretching you further. You grunted out, the sensation almost too much to bear. Toji presses the sloppiest kisses on your neck as he finger fucks you, pad of his thumb still working your sticky clit. You know it’s risky to be doing this, your father could come out at any moment. But, when Toji’s slender fingers prod into your mushy pussy, all rationality leaves your mind. All you can think about is his fingers pumping in and out of you.

Your thighs begin to tremble, and you can feel your orgasm building slowly but surely. Your toes curl, and your body begins to shake. You dig your nails into his shoulders, trying desperately to ground yourself. He continues his assault on your pussy, his fingers moving in and out of you at a rapid pace. “Ah she’s gushin’ all over me.” He laughs, watching your body spasm.

“Toji…please."

"Please what, princess?"

"I need...I need..."

"What? Tell me."

"I need to come."

"Not yet."

"Please. Please, I'm begging you."

"Oh, I love it when you beg. But not yet."

He withdraws his fingers, and you whimper at the loss. He smirks and sucks his digits, licking the juices from them. You can't help but stare at him, transfixed by his movements.

"God, you taste good. I could eat this pussy all day."

"Please."

"Patience, princess."

He turns you around and bends you over the table, your ass in the air. You can feel his erection pressing against your leg, and you know he wants this as much as you do. He pulls down up your skirt and frees his cock. It's big and thick, and you can't help but lick your lips. He strokes himself a few times, coating his cock with your juices as he slaps it on your pussy.

He rubs the head of his cock against your wet slit, and you can feel yourself getting wetter. You can't believe how turned on you are, how desperate you are to feel him inside of you. "Fuck me. Please, fuck me."

He has to clamp a hand over your mouth when he begins sheltering his beefy length into your cunt. Your scream is muffled by his hand, and he slowly pushes into you. The stretch is intense, and you can't help but clench around him. He grunts, his grip on your hips tightening with his free hand.

"God, princess, your pussy is so fucking tight."

You can't help but push back against him, wanting him deeper. despite the searing pain between your legs. He continues his assault on your pussy, thrusting in and out of you. Your moans are muffled by his hand, eyes rolling back into your head. It feels so good, “Shittt—ughm, can’t have you getting us caught.”

Toji whispers into your ear, the heat of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

He removes his hand from your mouth and wraps it around your throat, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

"God, you're so fucking hot."

You can't form words, the pleasure taking over.

He squeezes so hard you think you might pass out, but then his hand is gone, and he's pounding into you at a frenzied pace. "Fucking hell." He groans, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room.

You try to stifle your moans, but it's no use. He's relentless, driving into you again and again, his cock hitting all the right spots. You feel like heaven around him, walls constricting around his aching cock. He can't believe how lucky he is to have a little cockslut like you.

He fucks into you with reckless abandon, the table scraping against the floor. The sound of skin slapping now deafening, and the smell of sex permeates the air.

He reaches around and rubs your clit, tears streaming down your face.

"That's right, princess. Take it."

Your entire body is shaking, the pressure building until it's unbearable. He removes his hand from your throat and slaps your ass, the sharp pain pushing you closer towards the edge. You cry out. “ Q-Quie—“ he’s cutting you off as he slams his cock deep into you, the force of his thrust causing the table to squeak and shudder. “Shut up. Talk t-to much.” He mutters, shoving two of his fingers into your mouth.

The taste of yourself on his fingers sends you spiraling into oblivion. Your pussy clenches around him, and he groans.

"Oh fuck."

He pounds into you, his own release imminent.

"Gonna fill this little pussy with my cum."

He grips your hips tightly now with both hands, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. "Toji. Toji. Oh, fuck. Fuck." You cry out, stars exploding behind your eyes as your orgasm tears through you.

He groans and buries his cock deep inside of you, then he’s retracting. Thick white cream built at the base of his shaft, coating his cock in slickness. His eyes roll back at the sight of the pearlescent liquid smeared along his length. A thick layer coats his hand as he slides his fist along his member, his fingers moving easily from the wetness.

His balls draw up as his pleasure increases, his ass clenching with his need for release. Once again, you’ve got him cumming in under ten minutes. He hates it, but damn you feel so good.

"Fuckin’ killin me, can’t last with you.” He groans as he shoots his load on your ass.

You lay there, panting, trying to catch your breath.

"Fuck. You're perfect, princess."

You can't help but moan as he spreads your pussy from behind, his tongue lapping up the mixture of your juices.

"Tastes so good. I can't get enough."

You can't speak, the sensation too much for your spent body.

He continues his assault on your pussy until you're a whimpering mess, begging him to stop. He finally relents, standing up and tucking himself back into his pants.

"I think we made quite the mess, princess."

He smirks, the sight of you bent over the table, his cum dripping down your thighs a beautiful sight to behold.

“You alright sweetheart?” You hear your father call, confused by the commotion.

“I’m fine! Just stuffed.”

Toji snickers, placing a kiss on your cheek whilst pulling your skirt down. You can't help but smile, knowing that this isn't the last time you'll have him inside of you. You'll make sure of it.

[kashverse]

hear me out, papakuna totally distraught about babykuna's first bday because he wants it to be absolutely perfect

sukuna has planned a lot of things in his life.

how to build his own company from the ground up? check. how to propose to you the moment he realized he was utterly, stupidly in love with you? check. how to plan an obscenely extravagant wedding despite you telling him no, we don’t need a horse-drawn carriage, suku, this is not a fairytale— check. but none of those compare to the sheer anxiety that consumes him when planning babykuna’s first birthday.

yes, that’s right. one whole year since you made him the happiest man on earth for the second time. (the first was when you agreed to be his wife. the second was when you gave him a mini-you.)

so naturally, this needs to be perfect. spectacular. a grand event to set the standard for all birthdays to come.

you watch from the couch, nursing a cup of tea, as your six-foot-something, terrifying, king-of-the-corporate-world husband paces the room with his phone pressed to his ear, his free hand gripping his hair like he’s planning the olympics.

"i don’t give a shit if there are scheduling issues, uraume, i need those ponies on saturday."

ponies. there are ponies at stake now.

"yeah? and tell the bakery i want the cake to be exactly like the reference. if i see even one ugly sprinkle, someone’s getting fired."

he hangs up with a frustrated sigh, rubbing his temples.

"baby, 'm this close to snapping someone’s neck."

"you mean over the birthday party that she won't even remember?" you ask, mildly amused. sukuna scoffs like you just committed blasphemy. "the disrespect. our daughter deserves the best."

you glance over at the soon to-be birthday girl herself, currently drooling on her own fist in her bouncer, blissfully unaware of her father’s slow descent into madness. "you’re stressing yourself out over nothing," you hum, sipping your tea.

"oh, yeah? and when she looks back at pictures of this day, do you want her to see a half-assed party?"

you raise a brow. "she’s literally chewing her foot right now."

sukuna turns to babykuna, who is, in fact, gnawing on her chubby little foot like a deranged gremlin. "she’s too young to understand stress," he grumbles, kneeling down to scoop her up. she gurgles in response, smacking her drooly little hands against his expensive-ass shirt. "yeah, that’s great, sweetheart," he mutters, gently wiping her mouth before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

she promptly spits up on his sleeve.

"...right. thanks."

you giggle. "maybe you should focus less on ponies and cake sprinkles and more on surviving fatherhood."

"shut up," he grumbles, shaking his drool-covered sleeve. you shake your head, smiling.

"but honestly, baby, you’re doing so much for her. she might not remember it, but we will. and when she’s older, she’ll see how much her dad loves her." he huffs, but you see the way his shoulders relax at your words.

"...whatever. still getting the ponies."

the day of the party, and babykuna is having the time of her tiny little life.

the ponies? a hit. the cake? bigger than her. the decorations? over-the-top. your husband? going absolutely feral over making sure the event is flawless.

"what the fuck is this?!" sukuna growls, glaring at the table.

choso, bless his ignorant soul, stares at the bowl of m&ms he just put down. "uh… candy?"

"these are the wrong colors."

"i—"

"WHERE'S THE BABY PINK? WHERE'S THE WHITE? DO I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING CIRCUS PERFORMER?!"

choso, looking genuinely scared for his life, quickly scoops up the bowl.

"i’ll—i’ll fix it!!"

meanwhile, babykuna, in her tiny pink party dress, is sitting directly on top of her smash cake, hands covered in icing, face lit up with pure joy as she happily smacks the dessert into oblivion. a photographer snaps a picture at the perfect moment—babykuna, mid-splatter, frosting in her hair, grin wide enough to make your heart burst. you lean into sukuna’s side, watching your daughter go feral.

"see? worth it." you murmur. he sighs, watching babykuna destroy the thing he spent weeks planning.

"...yeah. worth it."

[aajjks]

Broke Boy, Fake Girlfriend (m)

synopsis. Your annoying roommate, Jungkook’s shameless fake dating act goes hilariously wrong when he thinks he can charm you into paying for his café splurge, but you turn the tables with some dangerously sweet flirtation.

pairings: jungkook x fem!reader.

genre: 18+, crack, roommate au.

warnings: 18+, fâkë dätïng tròpë, châôtïc flïrtïng, brókë bøy Jûngkook, tëâsïng, ëmbârrássïng mômënts, önë-sïdëd crùsh, pûblïc hümïlïâtïön, pówër shïft, hëâvy tënsïön, tëâsïng bântër, spïcy flïrtâtïön, crïngë mômënts, slöw bûrn.

note. I can’t thank you guys enough for so much love on the both parts so I thought maybe I should give you another one. Also, I found this GIF on Pinterest so credits to owner And Let’s just hope you guys would like this as well and tell me what do you think of the chaos and y’all can talk to him whenever you want. ENJOY.

“My girlfriend will pay for this.”

How do you always end up in this situation?

You blink.

You’re standing in line at a café, hands casually tucked in your pockets, minding your own business when those words hit you like a freight train.

Jungkook’s standing at the counter, a devilish grin plastered across his face, watching you with those damn puppy dog eyes. His tattooed hand casually gestures to you, like this whole scenario is as normal as breathing.

The barista, the one who’s been shamelessly flirting with him this entire time, looks back and forth between you two, her cheeks flushed pink.

“Oh—;” she giggles, voice breathy. “That’s so sweet of you.”

Sweet.

Sweet would be not dragging you into his latest ridiculous plan just because he’s broke again after spending all his money on gaming skins and who knows what else.

You narrow your eyes at him. He doesn’t even flinch.

“Yeah, my baby’s got me,” Jungkook hums, stretching lazily against the counter, his hoodie pulling up just enough to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of toned abs. Intentional. “She takes such good care of me.”

You swear you could hear the little pitter-patter of his fan club forming in the background.

‘My baby?’

You grit your teeth, gripping your wallet like it might suddenly escape your clutches. “You—;” you inhale, trying to remain calm. “I’m paying?”

“Obviously.” Jungkook doesn’t even hesitate.

God, he’s insufferable.

“Since when are we dating?”

Jungkook gasps.

Gasped.

He puts his hand on his heart, pretending to be hurt and makes a dramatic expression that makes you almost cringe.

“Babe. What do you mean?” His voice cracks with that exaggerated hurt, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

The barista giggles again, and you can see the sparkles in her eyes as she watches this whole ridiculous exchange.

Jungkook still has that pleading look, trying to play it off like you’re the one at fault for not realizing you were in the middle of his latest fake-dating fantasy.

You both know he’s out of cash and desperate.

He can’t possibly pay for this.

You should say no. You should do the right thing.

You should humiliate him right here in front of the cute barista and walk away, satisfied in your moral high ground.

But then—

“I’d get her anything off the menu,” Jungkook sighs, voice dropping an octave, his gaze lingering on your lips like he’s about to pull the most dramatic move of the century.

“She’s my princess. My world.”

Oh no.

Oh, he thinks you won’t play along.

And that—that little shit—that’s when you realize.

Jungkook’s not just doing the broke, flirting for sympathy… act. No, he’s flipping the script. He’s going full-on fake boyfriend mode.

He’s giving you those eyes, the ones that usually make girls melt on the spot.

His voice is suddenly, smooth and heavy, like he actually wants this to be real.

And then? The barista is still watching.

Oh, you know exactly what he’s doing.

You step closer, fingers lightly brushing against his chest as you lean in, your lips barely a whisper from his ear.

He freezes, clearly not prepared for the full-on flirtation storm that’s coming his way.

“Kookieee,” you say, voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. “Of course, I’m paying for my baby.”

Jungkook’s eyes go wide, and he makes this little sound—like he’s actually short-circuiting. He’s malfunctioning, visibly thrown off by how casually you’re playing along.

The barista is living for this. She’s practically sparkling now, too, and you know she’s ready to ship this fake couple straight to the moon.

But Jungkook? Jungkook’s dying.

He’s still standing there, mouth hanging slightly open, blinking rapidly like he needs to reset his brain, but you’re not done yet.

You lean in just a little bit more, hand still firmly placed against his chest, pressing your body close enough to feel the heat radiating from him.

His breathing gets heavier, a little shaky. And then you make your move.

You brush your fingers down his shirt, just enough to tease him, watching the way his whole body locks up, like he’s trying not to make a scene.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t say a word. He just stands there like the world’s hottest, most embarrassed mess.

“Oh, you’re so cute when you’re all flustered,” you murmur, leaning back slightly to get a good look at him, your fingers brushing his jaw.

His skin is so warm, so soft, and it’s making your whole body heat up.

Fuck, he’s cute.

Jungkook doesn’t even try to respond— he’s too busy replaying every single moment you’ve touched him in the last few seconds, and he’s mentally begging for you to finish the job.

He’s literally so embarrassing, but for the first time in your life, you had fun embarrassing him.

You take a step back, giving him just a little space. He’s still staring at you like you’ve just turned his life upside down.

Good. You’ve won.

“Let’s play, babe,” you say with a smirk, voice lighter now. He’s completely melting.

You swipe your card, taking your drinks.

You turn toward the door, but before you leave, you lean in one last time, brushing past him just close enough for your lips to graze his ear.

Oh, this is fun.

“You owe me, babe,” you whisper.

And with that, you leave him there, dazed, red-faced, and completely undone, just standing there like a mess in front of the barista, who is looking at him like she’s just witnessed an angel descend from heaven.

You walk out of the café like you’ve just done your civic duty in the most chaotic, teasing way possible. The power is all yours.

Victory. And Jungkook? Well, he’s got a lot to think about.

And a raging boner to take care of.

[mayanneaa]

gossip girl - ᴊᴊ ᴍᴀʏʙᴀɴᴋ.

PAIRING : jj maybank x reader

SUMMARY : you train jj to be a proper gossiper.

WARNING(S) : established relationship!! slight swearing but it's pure fluff!, not proofread

A/N : xoxo. my tummy hurts so fucking bad. also this one's ending might be a little shitty forgive me pls (divider by @roseraris)

WC : 1k

masterlist.

“JJ!” You exclaim, skipping through the Chateau, looking for your boyfriend. The air is sticky, filled with the smell of wood, salt, and beer.

You make your way through the living room and spot your boyfriend in the back, lying on one of the hammocks.

He covers his face with his arm, slowly bujając się.

“Jay, you have to hear this!”

JJ sits up the second he hears your voice, his eyes almost shut. “Hi, baby.”

He extends his arms, and you quickly hug him, leaving a peck on his lips.

“Okay, so you better hold on to this hammock, because—”

“Woah, woah. Wait,” he says, rubbing his eyes and ruszając się, trying to give you some space. “What’s going on?”

You grit your teeth while sitting on the edge of the worn-out material, not being able to keep this to yourself any longer. “Ugh, remember when I told you my mom asked me to go help the Jones? They just moved back here but without Ben.”

JJ furrows his brows, “Ben? The father…?”

You nod, “Yes! Well, their daughter is our age, and, by the way, she’s super sweet! Maybe I should invite her over here—”

“You’re drifting off the topic, baby.” JJ reminds you, now fully awake and interested in your story.

“Yeah, right. When I got there, she seemed kinda sad and annoyed, so as the good person that I am, I asked her what was wrong, and she spilled the whole tea! Everything!” You ramble, animating with your arms, and JJ watches your every move with a slight smile, clearly amused.

“She said her father cheated on Ms. Jones with a girl who’s barely 20! Do you understand that?!”

JJ giggles under his breath, lying back down. “Yeah. That’s so fucking messed up…”

“Right?” you say before you take a deep breath, “She mentioned that that side chick used to live here and that we might know her, but i have no idea who could that be.”

“Damn, you gossip like an old lady.” Your boyfriend says, pulling you to his chest. You gasp, dramatically placing your hand on your heart.

“I will find out. I mean, who cheats on such a beautiful woman like Ms. Jones? Especially this… this Ben? He looks like he sneaked onto the Earth—”

“Woah, woah, chill!”

You sit on the couch in your living room, sipping the juice from the recipe you just tried out and trying to get through a book when you get a notification.

With a sigh, you reach for your phone to read the message you got from JJ. He’s supposed to pick up his hoodie, which he left there last week.

A few minutes later the comfortable silence gets broken with the loud ring of the bell.

JJ doesn’t even hesitate, he just comes in without a second thought. You take a look at his face and can immediately tell he’s not in the best mood. He immediately comes up to you.

“Hi,” you say as he leans in to kiss the top of your head. “What’s up?”

He grunts, “I had to go and fix the AC at the Jones house. They were talking so fucking loud my head feels like exploding—”

You let out a gasp, and your eyes glisten. “At the Jones? What were they talking about?”

JJ squints his eyes, “Uhh I don’t know? I stopped paying attention after some man joined in.”

You look at him, disappointment mixed with disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“Well, yeah, they were arguing so I just did my thing and left.”

You groan. “You are kidding me. JJ, you could’ve heard something about the drama!”

He widens his eyes, a sheepish smile crawling onto his lips. “Ohhh, right… I’m sorry, baby.”

Your lips form into a pout, and JJ raises his eyebrows. “Nuh-uh, don’t pout at me for this. I’m not a gossiper, you know that.”

“Well, I know, I know…”

“But I promise I’ll tell you anything I hear.”

You sigh and hug him, breathing in his scent. “You better.”

You don’t even know when did you drift off to sleep, sitting on the back porch at the Chateau. The soft breeze and whistles of wind put you to sleep like a lullaby.

The front doors close with a loud crack, announcing that JJ has returned from the shop. You and the Pogues were supposed to have dinner tonight, and your boyfriend had to go and buy all the missing ingredients.

“Baby, you won’t believe it!”

You slowly open your eyes, eyelids fluttering from the orange sunset sky. You hum, and JJ runs outside, the grocery bag still in his hand.

“Did you get everything?” You ask, stretching your arms with a yawn.

“Yeah, I think so, anyway…” He speaks so fast you have to gain your consciousness quickly in order to understand what he’s saying. “Guess who I met at the store!”

You squint, trying to come up with a name in your mind, still fogged up with sleep. “Rafe?”

JJ shakes his head and you click your tongue.

“Topper?”

“No!” he gets a bit frustrated, a sight that makes you laugh. “What was a thing you were super invested in?”

Your eyes widen. “The Jones?”

JJ’s grin grows even wider. “Yes! Oh my God, would you believe that the man I saw is actually Ms. Jones’ new boyfriend? And that’s not the best part. He’s Ben’s cousin who’s much more successful too! This man owns four different restaurants and has three houses in Asia, Europe, and South America. He’s crazy rich!”

You gasp. “Wow. You really clocked all of this, didn’t you?”

He looks at you, a proud look on his face. “Duh. It was so much fun!”

JJ starts to tell you the story about how he had to follow them in different isles to hear everything and in the meantime, you check the grocery bag.

“…Then they moved to the dairy fridges, so naturally I went after them and—”

“JJ.”

“Huh?”

“You forgot half of the products...”

[pixiexdusts-world]

Min Ho’s unexpected plus-one

Min Ho Moon x girlfriend!reader

Summary: Min Ho surprises his friends with a girlfriend, and they can’t believe she’s real.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

If my heart beats any faster, I might actually pass out.

I smooth down my sweater for the hundredth time as Min Ho leads me toward the table where his friends—Dae, Q, and Kitty—are sitting. They’re deep in conversation, laughing at something I can’t hear, but the moment Min Ho clears his throat, all three heads turn in our direction.

“Guys,” Min Ho says, his voice casual but confident. “This is my girlfriend.”

Three pairs of eyes widen simultaneously.

“Girlfriend?!” Kitty is the first to react, nearly choking on her drink. She looks between us with the kind of shock I imagine she’d reserve for a major K-drama plot twist. “Did I miss something? Since when do you date?”

Min Ho sighs dramatically, placing a protective arm around my waist. “You all act like I was destined to be alone forever.”

Dae, who has been quiet up until now, finally blinks out of his stunned state. “I mean… kinda?” He looks at me with an apologetic smile. “Not because there’s anything wrong with you! Just, you know, because Min Ho’s… Min Ho.”

I laugh, and Min Ho groans. “Wow. Amazing. So much faith in me.”

Q leans forward, resting his chin on his hand as he studies me. “Okay, but seriously. We need details. How did this happen?”

“Yeah, and how are you putting up with him?” Kitty chimes in, narrowing her eyes at Min Ho like she’s waiting for me to expose all his flaws.

Min Ho scoffs, pressing a hand to his chest. “You know, a normal reaction would be ‘Congratulations, Min Ho! We’re happy for you, Min Ho!’”

Dae shrugs. “We’re still processing.”

I decide to take pity on him. “Honestly, he just kind of grew on me.” I glance up at him with a teasing smile. “Like an expensive, annoyingly charming fungus.”

Kitty gasps in delight. “Oh, I love her.”

Q grins. “Yeah, she’s definitely keeping him humble.”

Dae finally smiles. “Okay, okay, I approve.” He looks at Min Ho. “But if you mess this up, you know we’re all taking her side, right?”

Min Ho sighs. “Obviously.”

I can’t help but laugh as Kitty gestures excitedly for me to sit next to her, already launching into a million questions. Min Ho might have been nervous about this introduction, but honestly? I think I just found my new favorite people.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

As the night goes on, I settle into the group’s dynamic faster than I expected. Kitty is relentless with her questions, grilling me on everything from my favorite K-drama to my most embarrassing childhood story. Q is effortlessly charming, throwing in sarcastic quips that make Min Ho roll his eyes every five minutes. Dae, despite being the most reserved, gives me reassuring smiles that make it clear he’s warming up to me.

Min Ho stays close the whole time, his arm slung casually across the back of my chair, his fingers occasionally brushing against my shoulder. It’s subtle, but I can tell he’s still a little nervous, like he needs to make sure I’m okay. It’s sweet, really.

At one point, Kitty leans over and whispers, “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this.”

“Like what?” I whisper back.

She glances at Min Ho, who’s currently bickering with Q over something ridiculous, then back at me with a knowing smile. “Soft.”

I feel my face warm, but before I can respond, Min Ho turns back to us. “What are you two conspiring about?”

Kitty just winks. “Nothing. Just girl talk.”

Min Ho narrows his eyes at her suspiciously, but before he can press further, Dae checks his phone and sighs. “I should probably head out. My dad’s expecting me home soon.”

Q stretches. “Yeah, me too. But this was fun. You’re officially part of the group now,” he says, giving me an approving nod.

Kitty grins. “Yeah, and don’t worry, we’ll make sure Min Ho treats you right.”

Min Ho scoffs. “She doesn’t need you guys for that. I’m an amazing boyfriend.”

I hum thoughtfully. “Debatable.”

Kitty bursts into laughter. “Oh yeah, I definitely like her.”

As we all say our goodbyes, Min Ho laces his fingers through mine and pulls me a little closer. “See? Told you they’d love you.”

I smile up at him. “Yeah, I think I love them too.”

He smirks. “Not more than you love me, though. Right?”

I roll my eyes, but there’s no denying the warmth spreading through my chest. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Min Ho grins. “I knew it.”

And just like that, I realize—being with him, being part of this? It feels exactly right.

[simplypaisleyjane]

Chasing You

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x AFAB Reader

Summary: At The Hard Deck Jake Seresin spots a stunning woman who he has no business getting involved with. But he doesn’t know that yet. When he figures out her father is an admiral, his interest only deepens. But she’s not as easily impressed as Jake may have hoped. Will he win her over? Or will the chase be more than he bargained for?

Warnings: I don't think there are any :)

Tags: I want to thank @mynameismckenziemae for supporting me and encouraging me to post this! If you haven't yet, definitely check out her stuff!

Also tagging @djs8891 @khouse712 @withahappyrefrain @86laura11 because it seemed like you may have been interested based on the Ask on McKenzie's page! (If you'd like to not be tagged just let me know!)

The Hard Deck was filled with its usual noise, a mix of laughter, clinking glasses, and the soft background music coming from the jukebox. Jake Seresin leaned against the far back wall, beer in hand, casually scanning the room figuring out who he wanted to spend his evening talking to. 

His gaze stopped when he caught sight of a woman talking to Maverick and Penny near the corner of the bar. She was laughing, her smile lighting up the space, and Jake’s interest was instantly piqued.

“Hey, Bradshaw,” Jake nudged Bradley. “Who’s that?” He tilted his head toward the girl.

Bradley glanced over his shoulder, following Jake’s line of sight. When he spotted you, a knowing grin spread across his face. “Oh, her?” he said, his voice carefully casual.

“Yeah, her.” Jake’s tone was dripping with curiosity—and something more. “She’s gorgeous. You know her?”

Bradley turned fully toward Jake now, feigning thoughtfulness. “Actually, I do. She’s real sweet.” He paused for effect, letting the words sink in before adding with just enough sincerity to be dangerous, “I think you should go talk to her.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly weighing the risks. “You serious?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Bradley replied, his voice laced with mock encouragement. “She’s single. And you’re you, right? What could possibly go wrong?” He tipped his glass, hiding the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Jake chuckled, straightening his shoulders and adjusting his stance like he was walking into battle. “You’re not wrong, Rooster. I’m irresistible.” He set his beer on the counter and took a deep breath, the picture of confidence. “Wish me luck.”

Bradley raised his glass in a silent toast. “Oh, you’re gonna need it,” he muttered under his breath, watching as Jake strode across the bar like a man on a mission.

As Jake approached, you looked up and met his eyes, your smile widening slightly. Maverick and Penny exchanged a glance, their conversation stalling as they noticed the incoming pilot.

“Hey,” Jake started, his southern drawl turned up to full charm mode. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I couldn’t help noticing you from across the room. I’m Jake.”

Maverick smirked, clearly enjoying the show, but didn’t say a word. Penny raised an eyebrow at Maverick, who simply shrugged, leaving you to handle the situation.

“Nice to meet you, Jake,” you replied, your tone friendly but guarded.

Before Jake could respond, Maverick spoke up, his voice casual but carrying just enough weight to make Jake pause. “Hangman, you do know who her father is, right?”

Jake’s grin didn’t falter—much. “No,” he said confidently. “Should I?”

“Probably,” Maverick replied, leaning back with a smirk, “he’s sitting over there.”

Jake’s head snapped to the other side of the bar, where Cyclone was seated, his gaze locked on Jake like a hawk sizing up prey.

Jake turned back to you, his confidence shaken but not broken. “You know,” he said with a sheepish laugh, “I think I might’ve left my beer at the pool table. Don’t go anywhere, though.”

Back at the pool table, Bradley was doubled over, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. Jake smacked him on the shoulder, muttering, “You’re a real piece of work, Rooster.”

“Worth it,” Bradley managed between laughs. "You retreating already, Bagman?” Bradley teased, his grin wide and smug.

Jake grabbed his beer and took a long sip before setting it down with exaggerated nonchalance. He leaned casually against the pool table, a smirk playing at his lips.

“Retreat?” Jake scoffed, turning his head to glance back in your direction. “Nah, Rooster. I’m just regrouping.”

Bradley’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh yeah? And what exactly is the plan now?”

Jake’s smirk widened into something almost wicked as he turned back towards the bar, fixing his collar and brushing his fingers through his hair. “Simple,” he said, his drawl thick and smooth. “I’m going to get her number.”

Bradley barked out a laugh, nearly spilling his drink. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious.” Jake started toward you again, then stopped to look back at Bradley, his smirk now full-blown.

Bradley shook his head, half in disbelief and half in amusement. “This is going to end so badly, and I can’t wait to see it.”

You noticed Jake approaching again and sighed inwardly, though a small smirk tugged at your lips. He was persistent, you’d give him that.You had half expected him to give up once he realized who your dad was. You thought the line about forgetting his drink was him tucking his tail between his legs. 

You glanced over at your dad who was still seated on the other side of the bar, his gaze heavy as he followed Jake’s movements back towards you.

“Back already?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as he stopped in front of you.

Jake leaned casually on the bar, his smirk as charming as ever. “Couldn’t stay away,” he said smoothly. “Hard to ignore someone as beautiful as you.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t entirely suppress the faint blush that you knew was on your cheeks. “Is this your usual routine? Flash a smile, throw out some compliments, and hope for the best?”

“Depends,” Jake said, his grin widening. “Is it working?”

“Not even a little,” you shot back, though the corner of your mouth twitched like you were fighting a smile.

Jake chuckled, undeterred. “Good. Wouldn’t be worth it if it were easy.”

You turned your head back toward Maverick and Penny, clearly dismissing him. If he was just looking for a quick lay for the night he could find it with someone else.

But instead of walking away, Jake stayed put, leaning against the bar like he had all the time in the world.

“Still here? Let me guess,” you said without looking at him. “You’re one of those pilots, aren’t you?”

Jake’s grin only grew. “Guilty as charged. And you? Let me guess…Cyclone’s daughter?”

You finally looked at him, your eyes narrowing. “If you already knew that, why are you still here?”

Jake shrugged, his gaze unwavering. “Because you’re gorgeous, and I don’t scare off that easily. Besides,” he added with a wink, “I like a good challenge.”

“Good luck with that,” you said, turning your back on him completely.

Jake laughed softly to himself, taking the hint—for now. He walked back to the back of the bar where the pool tables were and stopped beside Bradley, who was watching the whole exchange with poorly hidden amusement.

“She shut you down, didn’t she?” Bradley asked, grinning.

Jake picked up his beer, taking a long sip. “She’s just playing hard to get.”

Bradley snorted. “She’s not playing, man. She’s actually hard to get.”

Jake glanced over his shoulder at you, catching the way you smiled at something Maverick said. A genuine, soft smile, not the guarded one you’d given him. His smirk softened just a fraction as he turned back to Bradley.

“Even better,” Jake said, leaning against the bar. “That just means she’s worth it.”

Bradley raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sincerity in Jake’s tone. “You’re really not giving up, huh?”

Jake’s smirk returned, but there was a glint of something more genuine in his eyes. “Not a chance.”

A few weeks later The Hard Deck was once again buzzing. It was Friday night, and the sound of voices and clinking glasses filled the air. Jake was nursing a beer at the bar, laughing at one of Coyote’s bad jokes, when his eyes landed on you.

You were seated at a small table outside near the edge of the patio, absently twirling a straw in your drink as you stared out at the ocean. This time, you weren’t surrounded by Maverick, Penny…or your father thankfully.

“Hangman,” Coyote said, nudging him. “You listening?”

Jake didn’t even glance his way. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, already rising to his feet.

Coyote followed his line of sight and smirked. “Oh, this should be good. You really going to try this again? You know who her dad is right?”

Jake didn’t respond, just shot him a wink before making his way toward you.

You noticed him approaching out of the corner of your eye and sighed. Of course, he was coming over. It wasn’t like you hadn’t expected it, but you’d hoped he might take the hint after the last time that you weren’t interested.

“Evening,” Jake said smoothly, sliding into the seat across from you without waiting for an invitation.

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back in your chair. “What are you doing?”

“Just keeping you company,” he said, flashing that infuriatingly perfect grin.

You gave him a flat look. “Who said I wanted company?”

“Call it a hunch,” Jake replied, unfazed. “You looked like you could use someone to talk to. Or, you know, someone to distract you.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “Distract me, huh? And what makes you think you’re qualified for the job?”

Jake smirked, leaning forward slightly. “Because, darlin’, distraction is what I do best.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t entirely hide the amusement that flickered across your face. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”

“Gotta be with someone like you,” Jake said, his tone softer now. “You’re not exactly making it easy for me sweetheart, are you?”

“My name’s not sweetheart. And why should I?” you shot back, arching an eyebrow. “You seem to like the chase.”

Jake chuckled, holding your gaze. “Maybe I do. But it’s not just the chase that’s got me sticking around.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. For a moment, you didn’t know how to respond.

“Well,” you said finally, reaching for your drink, “if you’re expecting someone to go home with you, I’m not her. There’s a cute blonde at the bar in the pink dress that might be interested though.”

Jake grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Who said I was looking for someone to go home with me?”

He stood, giving you a quick two-finger salute before heading back to the bar. You watched him go, shaking your head.

For the first time, you found yourself wondering if maybe—just maybe—there was more to Jake Seresin than his charm and good looks.

The ocean breeze lost its appeal as the night wore on, and you found yourself wandering back inside The Hard Deck, craving the warmth and the noise of the bar. You sidled up to the counter, setting your empty glass down with a soft clink.

Penny caught your eye from behind the bar and made her way over with her usual easy smile. “Refill?”

You nodded. “Just a soda, thanks.”

She grabbed the glass and began filling it, her movements practiced and smooth. As you waited, your gaze drifted across the room—right to Jake Seresin, who was leaning casually against the far end of the bar, laughing at something Coyote had said.

You quickly looked away, but not before Penny caught the direction of your stare.

“So,” she began, sliding the refilled glass back to you, “what do you think of him?”

You blinked, playing innocent. “Of who?”

Penny’s lips curved into a knowing smile as she wiped down the counter. “Jake’s been orbiting you all night.”

You sighed, glancing down at your drink. “He’s…persistent.”

“That he is,” Penny agreed, leaning against the bar. “But he’s also not as one-dimensional as he might seem.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Meaning what? That he’s not just some cocky pilot who thinks he’s God’s gift to women? Cause that’s what everyone around here is saying.”

Penny chuckled. “Oh, he’s definitely cocky. But there’s more to him. He’s loyal, sharp as a tack, and surprisingly thoughtful when he wants to be.”

You scoffed lightly, though the words lingered in your mind. “Thoughtful, huh? Doesn’t seem like the type.”

Penny tilted her head, studying you with an amused glint in her eyes. “Maybe you haven’t given him the chance to show you that side of him.”

You sighed again, fiddling with your straw. “To answer your question, he’s…fine, I guess.”

“Just fine?” Penny teased, arching an eyebrow. “You were staring pretty hard for ‘just fine.’”

Your cheeks flushed, and you quickly took a sip of your soda to hide your embarrassment. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Of course not,” Penny said, her tone light and teasing. “But if you were, I’d say maybe it’s worth it to give him a chance.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at your lips. “We’ll see.”

Penny winked at you before moving on to another customer, leaving you to your thoughts.

From the corner of your eye, you caught Jake glancing in your direction, his grin widening when your eyes met. You quickly looked away, cursing the heat rising to your cheeks.

As much as you hated to admit it, Penny’s words stuck with you. Maybe there was more to Jake Seresin.

Or maybe you just weren’t ready to find out yet.

You were halfway through your soda when you glanced over again, catching Jake in the middle of another laugh with Coyote. He leaned back against the bar, looking so relaxed and self-assured that it almost annoyed you. Almost.

When his gaze shifted, locking onto yours, your stomach flipped. His grin stretched wider as if he could see right through you. You quickly looked down, pretending to focus on the melting ice in your glass.

Moments later, you caught movement out of the corner of your eye.

“Need a refill?” Jake’s voice drawled, smooth as ever.

You looked up to find him standing beside you, one hand resting casually on the bar. His emerald-green eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was something else there too—something that wasn’t as easy to dismiss.

Your first instinct was to brush him off again, but Penny’s earlier words echoed in your mind. Maybe you hadn’t given him a chance. Maybe you should.

“Sure,” you said finally, surprising even yourself. You pushed the empty glass toward him. “Knock yourself out.”

Jake blinked, momentarily caught off guard by your agreement. Then his grin returned, slow and satisfied, like he’d just won a small victory.

“Coming right up,” he said, grabbing your glass and heading back to the bar.

When he returned, he set the drink in front of you with a little flourish. “One soda. Extra ice, just how you like it.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And how would you know how I like it?”

He shrugged, leaning against the edge of the table. “Lucky guess…or I may have had some help from Penny.”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. “Okay, Jake. You’ve got my attention. Now what?”

His grin softened into something more genuine. “Now I get to know you.”

You tilted your head, intrigued despite yourself. “And how do you plan to do that?”

Jake pulled out the chair across from you and sat down, his movements unhurried. “By asking you questions,” he said simply. “And, if I’m lucky, you might actually answer them.”

You sipped your drink, studying him. “Fine. Go ahead. Ask away.”

He paused for a moment, as if considering his options. Then he asked, “What’s something you’ve always wanted to do but haven’t gotten the chance to yet?”

The question caught you off guard. It wasn’t what you’d expected—not some flirty remark or shallow small talk, but an actual question. Thoughtful. Genuine.

You hesitated, then shrugged. “I don’t know. Travel, I guess. There’s a lot of the world I haven’t seen yet.”

Jake nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “Any place in particular?”

“Greece,” you said, the word slipping out before you could stop it. “I’ve always wanted to see the islands. The history, the views… It just seems like it’d be beautiful.”

“It is,” Jake said, surprising you again.

“You’ve been?”

“Once,” he admitted. “A couple of years ago. Only for a few days, but it was incredible. The water’s so blue it doesn’t even seem real.”

For the first time, you found yourself genuinely curious about him. “What were you doing there?”

“Just passing through on leave,” he said with a shrug. “But I’d go back in a heartbeat. Maybe next time I’ll stay longer.”

You cleared your throat, glancing down at your drink. “Okay, your turn. What’s something you haven’t done yet?”

Jake smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Convince you to let me take you on a date.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no real heat behind it. “You were doing so well. Why ruin it?”

He laughed, leaning back in his chair. “Just being honest.”

For the first time, you found yourself smiling back. Maybe Penny had been right. Maybe there was more to Jake Seresin than you’d thought.

Note: This is my first time writing any fanfiction that's more than a paragraph or two. And is also my first time sharing or posting what I wrote so I would love to know what you guys think!

I am also considering maybe writing a second part of this that shows you finally giving Jake a chance if there's interest??

[ferrarifinnick]

FOCUS | KANG DAE-HO (PLAYER 388) AU

pairing: dae-ho (player 388) x gymgirl!reader AU genre: fluff; in an alternate universe where dae-ho doesn't enter the games. warnings: rewritten! suggestive content, shy!dae-ho, dae-ho checking reader out, lust, confrontation, sweat, partial nudity ? (sports bra), flirting, teasing, intimidation, a man who YEARNS. wc: 1.2k summary: dae-ho can't keep his eyes off his gym crush, but she has some things to say about his manners.

dae-ho tried to focus on lifting the dumbbells. the stretch of his muscles, the music playing softly in the background of the gym, he tried to focus on it. but his gaze kept drifting to you. clad in only sweatpants and a sport bra, you lifted nearly as much weight as him, but unlike dae-ho, you made it look easy. the only giveaway was the shiny gleam of sweat on your body.

it was just sweat. it wasn’t unlike anyone else hard at work in the gym, and it certainly wasn’t anything to be enamoured by. but if that were true, why couldn’t he tear his eyes away from it? away from you.

every time you dropped the bar and took a quick rest, he snapped his head back down to his shoes and tried to look busy. he fiddled with his shoe laces, pulled up his socks, even redid the topknot holding up half his hair. all to hide from your suspicion.

he gave it another moment before he took one last glance, only this time, you were staring right back at him.

he dropped his head before you could see the heat rushing into his red cheeks. his water bottle suddenly a point of fascination as he examined and drank from it, hoping to blend in. to seem normal. like your hands on your hips and the scowl you shot him wasn’t frightening.

dae-ho decided to call it a day. he pulled the hoodie over his head, snatched up his belongings, even readied his car keys to make a quick escape as he fled to the exit. he rushed past a little old lady power-walking on a nearby treadmill, but her pace was no match for dae-ho’s. he reached the door, could see the light of day pouring in from the street outside, he could see freedom.

so why did he turn around to look at you one last time?

more importantly, why weren’t you still at your machine? he glanced around, catching sight of so many girls but not one of them was you.

"looking for me?"

his head whipped around so fast it nearly unscrewed and fell to the floor. you stared up at him, hands on your hips, waiting for an explanation.

dae-ho's lips opened and closed, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't force any words out of them. the narrowing of your eyes didn't help him find his voice, and the impatient sigh only made him shudder.

"well?" you urged. “why have you been staring at me for half an hour? what’s your problem?”

dae-ho swallowed. "i'm sorry, you're just–" really fucking hot, he wanted to say, but his mother would ring him by his neck if she ever heard him speak to a girl like that. those were thoughts to remain in his head, where they belonged.

"i'm just what?" you asked, and the frustration seemed to only be simmering with his silence.

"pretty," he blurted before he could help it, and the heat burned his cheeks the moment it dawned on him that he'd said it not only out loud but straight to your face. "i mean, that's not what i meant–i mean you are pretty, beautiful actually, but–no, that's not–" he let out an overwhelmed whine, squeezing his eyes shut as a last resort to escape you.

you reached out, the palm of your hand resting gently on his forearm. he nearly flinched at your touch, but when he caught the glint of amusement in your eyes, he relaxed.

"hey," you cooed. "i'm only messing with you."

the relief washed over his face and every tightened muscle suddenly released. “oh,” he said, unsure if he should laugh or run out the door. but when you giggled, he changed his mind and wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole. he didn’t know much about impressing girls, but he knew it was never a good sign for one to laugh in his face.

“where were you running off to?” you asked, gesturing to the car keys hanging from his index finger.

“oh, just… home,” he said, and immediately cursed internally for not convincing you he lived a more exciting life.

you hummed, unconvinced. “seemed like you were in quite a big rush just to go back home,” you said, nodding down at his full bottle of water and weightlifting belt he hadn’t used during today’s gym session.

he slowly looked back up to you. “i was… tired,” he lied.

“bullshit,” you suddenly said, and his eyes flew open at your accusation. the crossing of your arms only pushed your breasts together, and he tried desperately to ignore the curve of them heaving up and out from under your sports bra. but the light was catching the sweat on your skin, and even though he had been raised better, he couldn’t help himself from glancing down for the fraction of a second.

he snapped his eyes back up to yours, but it was too late. you caught him. he knew for certain as your lips pulled into a smirk.

he gulped, desperately trying to swallow the lump in his throat in case you asked another question. but you didn’t, you just stepped closer, and dae-ho realised this was worse than anything you could ever say.

you didn’t touch him, but as he glanced down at the closing proximity of your bodies, he was afraid one deep breath would push his chest against yours. you glanced up at him, the light catching your mischievous eyes.

“you were running away from me, weren’t you?”

he was wrong. maybe your words were just as daunting as your proximity.

he didn’t have to worry about responding, because the sheepishness in his face said everything he couldn’t.

you smirked as you caught him glance down at your lips, and you swore you heard his breath catch in his throat. “aw,” you cooed again, and the way your eyes softened almost had his knees giving out. “do i make you nervous?”

your relentless gaze made him feel like his back was against the wall, caged by your presence, but really he had the whole gym behind him. he could run away, he could free himself, but some part of him, the one that enjoyed the thrill of your attention, forced him to stay put.

besides, what was the point? you were onto him, and saving face wasn’t something he could achieve anymore. so he finally swallowed that lump and nodded. “yes,” he said, because the sweat dripping down his temple wasn’t from weights but the weight of your gaze.

you suddenly grinned. “honest, i like that.” suddenly you reached into your pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. “i’m going to the cafe across the street,” you said, lifting up the paper for him to see five out of six stamps printed in it. “they do a great hot chocolate, and i’ve only got one more to buy until i get a free one.”

he nodded along. “that’s a good deal.”

you repressed the laughter bubbling in your throat and instead asked, “what’s your name?”

“dae-ho,” he said, and for the first time he sounded sure of himself.

you told him your name, and said, “dae-ho, would you like to come with me to the cafe?” you tapped the paper against his chest lightly, cheeks stretching as you grinned. “i’ll get you a hot chocolate?”

he processed your offer slowly, and although he had to study your face for any signs of mean spirited teasing, he eventually realised you were serious.

“yes!” he said, and quickly cleared his throat to try again, this time without being so eager. “yes!” he said again, but it came out just the same.

you grinned. “great answer, dae-ho.”

you lead him out onto the busy street of your gym, pointing out the cafe just a few doors down. it stood on the other side of the busy street, a stream of commuters and tourists blocking the path. you turned to dae-ho and offered him your hand.

“don’t want you running away again,” you teased, and he finally lost the sheepishness in his eyes.

he took your hand, and while it was much smaller than his, he felt comforted by your confidence as you pulled him across the street. but even in a sea of people, you were still the only one he could seem to focus on.

hehe i love subby dae-ho. please like, comment, reblog. love <3

[love44lew]

{day one: if i was a worm☙}

彡drivers lewis hamilton, lando norris, charles leclerc

彡genre oneshots, multiple drivers x reader, scenarios

彡summary you ask your boyfriend an odd but very important question

၊၊||၊ i know im terrible at keeping up with calendars, kinktober for example (im sorry 😫) but its only 14 days this time and im getting a early start so lets hope we’re consistent now🙂‍↕️၊၊||၊

彡warnings none!!

—————-

lewis

you were scrolling on your phone when you came across a reel of a girl asking her boyfriend if she would still love her as a worm, so why not ask your boyfriend? you made your way to the living room where lewis was tiredly sprawled out on the soft cushions of the couch, the sight of him half asleep on his phone making you giggle internally.

“lewis..” you called softly, his eyebrow rising as he moved his phone from his face which he held closely like an old man.

“yes baby” his raspy low voice sent tingles down your spine as you nibbled your lip

“would-“

“theres leftovers in the fridge, i put all the dishes away, yes the wifi is working just reset your phone, i found your lost airpod and i put it in the case, and yes, i’ll still love you if you were a worm” he cut you off abruptly before you can interrogate him. lewis is pretty much immune to confrontation since he’d much rather just get everything done right away then just sit around procrastinating.

“i want take out—“

“its done” you stood there in silence with your mouth agape. how is he SO good??

“anything else?” you watched him as he stood up and reached his arms to the celling, his bones popping and cracking with each stretch. he must’ve been there on the couch for a while.

“can i suck your dick?” you mumbled under your breath as lewis stepped towards you.

“hm?” lewis hummed as he slowly leaned to your side and kissed your jaw as snugly rests his hands on your waist

“uhm- w-what should we get?” youd kind of hoped he heard what you said, because gosh did he deserve it

lewis slowly leans to your ear, “if you wanna do that princess, ima need you to speak up” his breath is warm against your lobe, warmth that travels through your entire body.

lando

you were scrolling through tiktok with one hand and the other entangled in your mans curly hair as he rested peacefully between your thighs. his arms wrapped around your leg as he held his phone and scrolled through his explore page on instagram.

you come across this video of someone asking their significant other the hot question of the month, “would you love me if i was a worm”

you glanced down at your unsuspecting boyfriend with a smirk, brilliant way to get back at him for all those pranks.

“honey,” you called for his attention as you ruffled his hair. his head immediately looked up from his phone and at you “you weren’t sleeping were you?”

“no, i wasn’t. what is it darling?”

“i have a question i want you to answer honestly”

he adjusted himself and rested on his elbow, with you now having his full attention. “yeah? what is it?”

“would you still love me if i was a worm?” you asked the golden question, almost allowing a smirk but immediately catching yourself.

his his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, what the hell are you talking about?

“is this a trick question” lando raised an eyebrow at you.

“well if you think it is—“ you turned your head and response.

he stared at you for a second before answering “yes..? i dunno”

“that wasn’t very honest sounding” you interrogated

“well then, you really want to know my honest answer ?”

“yes!” you abruptly responded, curious on his genuine answer

“well, i wouldn’t know it was you and i hhaaaattteeeee bugs..” he looked you up and down before continuing “it would depend where i would find you as a worm though..” he hesitantly finished his sentence

you smacked his shoulder “what does that mean you dingus?” you barked,

lando held his shoulder from the pain “owww why did you hit me” he pouted, his cute sad face stinging your heart

“because..”

“what did you want me to say? no!?” landos voice cracked as he argued,

“i would’ve preferred that over ‘it depends’” you quoted your fingers and lowered your voice to imitate his.

“dont leave me guessing” you frowned

“darling— i didnt mean it like that” his voice softened, hes so easily weakened by you. one little whine and hes showering you with kisses and love and has already bought you a new game for your wii before you could even tell him whats wrong.

he took your hand and kissed your palm and fingers and down your wrist and forearm.

he adjusted himself again for easy access to your neck brushing his nose on the crook before made his way up to your ear where he gently nibbled on the edge, which earned him a chuckle from you, “heyy that tickles !”

air blew from his nose as a smile cracked through. he moved his lips to your cheek and basically motorboated your face until you were laying on your back dying laughing.

“mmm there it is” he smiled down at you as your cheeks burned partially from smiling and other part from the attack on your face.

“what” you mustered to say through a series of dying down chuckles

“that smile” he caressed your face “pretty girl, i love you as you are, okay?” he confessed quietly, as if he was telling you a secret as he leaned down and finally connected his lips with yours.

charles

you and charles were on one of your routine strolls in the park with leo. charles hand cocooned your smaller one as you were side by side.

leo stopped at a tree to do his business and while the two of you waited for him, you had spotted a butterfly, swallowtail to be specific.

you stood and stared at its wings happily flock around the flowers surrounding the tree, pollinating them. beautiful things like this always put you in a state of pondering.

“mon coeur? what are you thinking about?” charles squeezed your hand, calling for your attention.

“hm? oh! look char, its a butterfly” you pointed at the colorful bug that has now calmly rested on a blade of grass.

“ohh, pretty” charles was now admiring it with you, its small torso and wide wings as well captivating him. leo also noticed, now trying to catch it by jumping up with his mouth agape.

your thoughts continued though as your eyes stayed fixed on your boyfriend. a random, stupid question ate at you though: would he still love you as a bug?

or not a bug, but something or someone who wasn’t you. like what if you were a cute little golden mutt like leo or maybe even a butterfly just flocking around, hide originally meant to fend off predators, now a pinnacle of beauty in nature. what if you werent as fortunate to be born as cute or beautiful, what if you were just a worm? their only survival instinct is to dig in damp mud as a birds preying beak chomped at their tail. a silly concept to think of. how could he love you if you were just a mere bug? the running question of if youd be still deserving of love if you were something as minuscule and overlooked as a worm.

you’re more than greatful to have someone like him in your life, he was your rock—the love of your life. everyday you could be more convinced that this was it, hes the one. even right now, as your gaze stays locked on him simply admiring another external matter, you could feel your heart beating happily at the feeling of being around him. you love his soul, and your soul can follow you anywhere—so if your soul wasn’t in this body, but in one less noticeable than one of a human, would you still be worthy of receiving love?

such a decrepit topic to think of.

your reluctantly averted your gaze from charles, now youre focused back on the butterfly— or now butterflies since there was two now. Leo obviously was going crazy so you’d let him free so he can frolic around in the grass while you’d found a bench to rest on and charles followed.

“okay, now back to you..” charles started

“yes..” you sighed, you’d hoped he had already forgotten catching you in deep thought

“your face, somethings on your mind..” his fingers carefully caressed along your cheek “you can tell me anything” his eyes with softened with worry

your heart fluttered and the butterflies that you’d just seen now occupied your stomach, you could honestly kiss him right now.

“well.. uhm” you averted your eyes, his gaze currently making you nervous and overwhelmed with emotion.

“hm?” he hummed

“its stupid..” your face flushed

“when have i thought anything you have said was stupid”

“i dunno you think it but you could say something different” you shrugged

charles guided your chin to face him

“mon beau cygne, je t’adore. i couldnt think you were anything less than what you are” his voice sang to you like your favorite song, it is your favorite song. you’d kept eye contact for a couple seconds, the words everlasting their meaning the deeper you looked into his eyes.

“okay, okay fine. i’ll tell you for a kiss” without hesitation charles leaned in, his soft lips brushed over yours teasingly before taking yours in his. the kiss was soft and light, quick but not at all rushed. as he pulled away his mouth lingered over yours, his warm breath still shadowing the kiss he’d just left.

“now tell me” he whispered and then pulled away, resting his back on the bench.

“uhm.. do you believe our souls are beyond just our bodies?” you asked shyly

“i mean yeah that could be a possibility, but in what way?” charles questioned

“like even after we die, they still follow us to the next life”

“hmm.. well” he paused, pondering the concept “i dont really like to think about what happens after death, if you know what i mean” he shrugs before continuing

“makes me queasy” he let out a half chuckle.

you dont blame charles for his vague response, hes never been very fond of the topic of death because of personal experience with loved ones. you even feel bad now for bringing it up when he was in such a good mood, but also he insisted.

“whats got you thinking about death on a day like this, mon cœr?” he tapped your side, gaining your focus once again.

“i wasn’t originally thinking about death, i just brought it up so i can get to what i wanna ask you” you shifted your body so you were now facing him. almost instinctively charles hand rests on whatever body part he can touch—in this case your arm as his thumb caresses your soft skin.

“um do you think— would you..” you tried to collect your words since delivery of the question would be critical to charles’s understanding of what you wanted from him.

“do you think you’d still love me if my soul wasn’t in this body, like if i wasn’t me but i was still.. me?” your face scrunched as you questioned your own delivery, now that its leaving your thoughts you also had a hard time understanding what you wanted to say in the first place.

“are you asking if we’re soulmates?” charles tilted his head with his eyebrows furrowed

“…pretty much, yeah” you nodded

“then yes, because soulmates are meant to find each other no matter what, and my soul is always looking for you cara mia” his hand reached up to caress your cheek and you couldnt help but kiss his hand. you’re once again reminded on why you chose him, he couldn’t have given you a more satisfying answer than that.

charles gestured for you to get closer and planted a soft kiss on your nose and next to your mouth before slightly pulling away searching for approval in your eyes, lightly touching your lips with his own once he received it.

every kiss you’d received from him felt like there was an atomic bomb going off in your heart. you felt like you could simply grow wings and fly away just from how high you were off your own love for him.

“je t'aime de tout mon cœur” he whispered to you between kisses

you pulled away to look in his eyes again, greenish-blue eyes that had always captivated you.

“qu'est-ce que c'est mon amour?” charles asked with his voice still in a soft tone, his fingers now brushing your hair away from your face.

“nothing, i love you too charlie” you smiled, charles leaned in for another kiss until a familiar bark was heard close by. you and charles looked down to see a fussy leo demanding for love as well.

“i think he wants some love too” you picked him up and placing him in your lap, which he’d jumped up to kiss your chin. you and charles giggled at his energy filled antics. charles leaned down to give leo some love too, while you smiled at the both of them. they’re the exact same.

The blonde and the brunette always competing for your love, little did they know you loved them both the same. you placed one hand on leo and another on charlies head, petting your two boys, now assured the both of them would love you no matter what.

[sweetbans29]

Back to You (1) - CC Series

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: The breakup.

Warning: Angst

Word Count: 1.3k

Back to You Masterlist & Sweetbans Masterlist

Hi hi! I know it has been a long while and I can't say I am back forever but I am back for now and I feel like that is something we both have been wanting. I can't promise fast but if you hand in there, I think this series will be worth it. Love you all!

"Cait, what do you mean?" You say as you look your girlfriend dead in the eyes. Well, I guess your ex-girlfriend now. She looks away from you, looking down to her fidgeting hands.

The two of you have been dating for 3 years. Technically 2 years, 11 months and 26 days. You are days away from your 3 year anniversary.

"Caitlin, what do you mean?" You ask again, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible.

"I mean exactly what I said," she says almost inaudibly. Her eyes still locked on her hands as the words come out sounding like a mistake, like they aren't even her words to begin with.

You scoff and turn around, brining your hands to your head. You begin to pace and try to think of any sort of indication this was on the horizon.

The thing is, your relationship with Caitlin has never been conventional. For starters, if you were to ask anyone on campus, they would tell you that Caitlin is dating Connor McCaffery. If you were to ask the world, they would say she is happily in a relationship with Connor whether they agreed with it or not. Her manager thought it would be a good publicity move. Not that you had any say in the matter. It didn't matter to you - you had Caitlin and that was everything.

Another thing about your relationship is that only a select few knew about it. Her manager being one of them. Connor, of course. Your parents and your mutual best friend, Kate Martin.

Her team didn't know. Neither of your friend groups knew. She even went so far as keeping you from her parents which was always a sore point in your relationship. You didn't need the world to know but the two of you had many discussions around telling her parents.

You knew going into this relationship that she wanted to keep in hidden. You had fallen so hard for the girl that nothing mattered expect being with her. So you put your pride aside and told her it didn't matter and you meant it. Nothing mattered except being with her. The secrecy. The cover-up boyfriend. The closed doors. None of it mattered because when it was the two of you - it was right. It was good. She's your everything.

"What she means is that we are no longer faking it," Connor says with a smirk.

You lift your left hand and flip him off. You hear him laugh.

"Caitlin," you begin, trying to focus solely on her.

"Are you deaf?" Connor says. "It's over. You're finished."

"Con, maybe you should go," Caitlin says, wanting to explain what is actually going on. "I got this."

"Clearly you don't," he says as he steps in between you and her. "Look, you two had your fun but Caitlin came to her senses and she has chosen me. You were a fun experiment for the time being but she doesn't swing that way."

You can physically feel the steam coming out of your ears as you breath deeper trying to compose yourself enough to not rip his head off. You see Caitlin put a hand on his shoulder. Your eyes close.

"Don't make this harder on yourself than it needs to be," Connor says.

"I need to hear her say it," you say through gritted teeth, eyes still closed. Your head fogs, as if opening your eyes would wake you from this nightmare. "I need her to say it."

You hear the shake in Caitlin's breath as she inhales, ready to speak. After a moment, nothing comes out. Her words caught in her throat.

Connor turns to her and holds her shoulders, "I got this babe, if she is making you uncomfortable, you can wait in the car."

Little to his knowledge, that is the last thing Caitlin wants.

"Connor, can you give us a minute please?" Caitlin says, finally bringing her eyes to you.

"Just make it fast," Connor says, annoyance in his tone. He kisses the top of Caitlin's head and walks away from where the two of you are standing by your car.

No amount of fresh air seems to be enough in this moment.

You look at her, waiting for her to say something. Anything, at this point.

Her eyes grace over you, stopping at your lips and you feel like you can see her take a the slightest of inhales. Your lips were always one of her favorite spots.

Caitlin's hand twitches and the one one thing she wants to do she can't, not with what is happening the next few months that will launch her career in the W.

You close your eyes again, you can't get your mind to stop spinning.

Caitlin brings her hand up, close enough to touch your face but she hesitates. You feel her presence and hold your breath. Waiting - hoping for her to show any signs that this isn't happening.

She brings her hand back down to her side and fists her shirt to keep herself from caving.

You wait for her to speak and after a few minutes of silence you decide to break it.

"Was any of it real?" You ask. You have never doubted Caitlin before and you really don't know why you are doubting her now but with the things Connor said and hearing her start this whole avalanche has you questioning everything.

"That's not fair," Caitlin says, getting defensive that you would even think that. "Of course it was real."

Your eyes flash open.

"Not fair? Not FAIR?" You seethe. "What's not fair is the fact that I have loved you for the past 3 years and the only person to know about it was your media boy toy. I have given you all of me, everything I have to give and I was okay doing it all under your terms, your conditions. I have been nothing but willing Cait. So much so that I was willing to hide us from the people YOU love most. Never rushing you. When did we go from packing for our 3 year anniversary to here? And you have the audacity to say it’s not fair when I ask if it’s been real. How am I suppose to believe that it’s been real when I’ve been hidden for all this time?”

You take a step towards her and she takes a step back. If nothing up to this point broke your heart - that little step did. You realized in that moment that there was nothing you could say, definitely nothing you could do to take back this moment. Take back her decision.

You nod, heart finally shattering into the millions of pieces you have been trying to hold together. You take a step back. Then another.

Caitlin realizes that this is your surrender. She panics and begins to take step forward but stops. This is already hard enough without explaining why she is doing this, not that she could thanks to the contract she signed with her manager.

"I'm sorry," she says softly, as if those two words would somehow make this all a little better.

It doesn't.

You turn around, refusing to let your tears spill in front of her. You don't hear her walk away but you wish she would. You can only hold it together for so much longer.

Your breathing becomes shallow, as you throat beings to close. You let out a single sob before throwing your hand over your mouth as you wrap your other arm around your stomach. Providing little to no comfort for yourself.

Caitlin's hand comes up to your shoulder, giving it the lightest touch. Similar to the one she gave Connor not 15 minutes ago. You shrug her off and compose yourself.

"No, Caitlin. I'm the the one who's sorry," you choke out. "I'm sorry I wasn't enough."

You open your car door, get in, and drive away - leaving who you thought would be your future, in the past.

AN - I have been thinking about this series for a whole 12 hours before I started to write it lol. I don't know how long it will be but I can tell you this is only the beginning. Buckle up. Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[cinnamqnx]

heartbreak summer ꨄ︎

pairing. sae itoshi x f!reader

summary. after your friend finds out her recent ex has been in the news tabloids with yet another girl, your idea of get back turns your night into an unfortunate series of events with the outcome landing you directly in front of re al’s star player, and you’re about to kiss him.

warnings. nsfw elements, swearing, toxic relationships & behaviour (not too much from sae surprisingly), angst

10 | double dates & birthdays

8:23 pm

you had been out for around an hour or so, currently in the restaurant bathroom touching up your makeup with kaia before heading out to the bar to have drinks.

“you and oliver look like you’ve really made up.”, you say, applying your lipgloss while looking in the mirror.

“yeah, honestly i forgot how well we clicked and he hasn’t fucked up so far. i kinda have a feeling he’ll ask me to be his girlfriend again.”, she smiles to herself, watching you put your lipgloss on.

“what about when we go back to la?”, you ask, turning to look at her.

“god, i haven’t even thought that far yet. maybe the long distance could work this time? i don’t know.”, she sighs, “i’m just enjoying my time with him right now, y’know?”

“anyway, enough about me. how about you and sae?”, she asks, tilting her head.

“okay. i don’t know if i’m just reading too much into it, but i feel like the energy between us has been like, slightly awkward.”, you sigh.

“if i’m honest, y/n, do you really want to be dealing with this when it’s so early on. like, yeah, you guys like each other, but you haven’t spoken much about you two. it’s been like what? two weeks? and you’ve only hung out like 3 times just the two of you.”

you sigh again, “i know. i don’t even know what’s going on really, and you know how i feel about situationships.”, you pause, “i’ll just see how the night goes, one step at a time or whatever.”

she nods, “i feel like recently all we’ve been talking about is boys.”, kaia laughs.

“no honestly, you just know natalia is getting sick of us.”, you half joke.

as kaia was about to reply, a knock on the girls bathroom is heard, “hello? what are you two doing in there it’s been like 20 minutes. are we going or not?”

kaia rolls her eyes at oliver’s voice, making you laugh, “yes, we are.”

11:02 pm

the night at the bar was more chill than you expected it to be, less people than you imagined were there so it was more of a casual night much to kaia’s dismay. oliver and sae weren’t too bothered by it either, opting for a couple beers than in a sweaty night club.

you was currently heading back from the bar, oliver driving as usual with kaia in the front.

“do you wanna come to mine?”, sae asks, his voice a little quiet, not wanting kaia or oliver to stick their noses in.

“uh, sure. is that okay with you?”

he frowns slightly, “well i wouldn’t have asked if i didn’t want you to.”

“yeah i know, just cause of last time i mean.”

he rolls his eyes at the thought, “i’m not gonna do that if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“i’m not worried.”, you shake your head, “i want to come.”

he nods, giving you a straight smile.

eventually, oliver takes you and sae back to his apartment with small chatter in the car, “alright, we’re here.”, he says, turning to look at you both in the back.

“alright, thanks bro.”, sae says, stepping out the car alongside you.

“byeeee.”, kaia sings out, waving her hand at you through the car window, with yourself waving back as sae puts a hand on the back of your waist, leading you up to his apartment.

he takes his keys out his pocket, putting it through they keyhole and opening the door, “well, make yourself home.”, he says while a cloud of deja vu hits you.

navigation. heartbreak summer

next chapter. 11

author’s note. waaayyy more writing this chapter and the next one will only be writing!! i know some people have been having issues with the links but they should be fixed now!! also smut next chapter 🫣

taglist: @vaelils @shironagi @megumiivs @captainshindo @evry1luvssm @alatusorrow @pookalicious-hq @gigiiiiislife @tnt-kokoo @misosoupii @whisperofae @bontensbabygirl @s4-mmy @viviinpt @werfiedeii @dinnersyummy @sccubss @nuhahani @treeguzzler @pctterheadd @taefanclub @literallyushiwaka @yiiscorner @suksatoru @treeguzzler @manjiroswifo @sugacor3 @kaz-0e

[wendichester]

₊˚⊹ ᰔ happier²,

summary. sam's been in love with you for far too long for it to still be a secret!

pairing. sam winchester x reader ft. dean winchester ; angsty!

wordcount. 1051

notes. @hauntedrose555 @mostlymarvelgirl @daryls-luvrr ya'll encouraged this nonsense. don't come after me for writing this 😳

⋆.˚ ★— read part 1

Dean isn't looking for trouble. Really. And he doesn't mean to snoop. He just wants the damn book. It’s gotta be somewhere in the bunker.

The three of you had been going through lore all week for this case, and Dean swears he saw Sam with it last. So, when he finds himself in front of Sam’s half-open bedroom door, he doesn’t think twice before stepping inside.

His eyes skim over the desk first, scanning through the mess of papers and thick books. No luck. Huffing, he crouches to check the floor. Nothing. Then he spots it, half-buried under a stack of old notes—faded leather binding, gold lettering along the spine.

Bingo.

But as Dean grabs the book, his fingers brush against something else. A journal. Sam’s journal.

He doesn’t mean to look. He shouldn’t. He knows that. But the damn thing is open, and his name—your name—catches his eye.

Dean tells himself it’s just for a second. Just one glance. But the words jump out at him like a punch to the gut.

"She would be so much happier with me."

His stomach drops.

“What the hell?” he mutters under his breath, flipping back a page, then another. It’s all there. The lingering looks. The inside jokes. The little moments that Sam thinks mean something more. Pages filled with words Dean doesn’t want to read, because they confirm what his gut has been telling him for a while now.

Sam’s in love with you.

A sharp exhale sounds from the doorway.

“The hell are you doing?”

Dean looks up to find Sam standing there, shoulders tense, expression instantly guarded as he sees his journal in Dean’s hands.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Dean drawls, flipping the book shut. His jaw clenches. “Maybe just finding out my brother’s been in love with my girlfriend behind my back.”

Sam’s face darkens. “Give me that.”

Dean tosses the journal onto the desk, standing up. “I don’t need to read more, Sammy. That one sentence told me everything.” He lets out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “Jesus Christ. How long?”

Sam’s lips press into a thin line. “Dean—”

“How. Long.”

Sam’s nostrils flare as he exhales. “It doesn’t matter.”

Dean scoffs, stepping closer. “Doesn’t matter? Doesn’t matter? You don’t think it matters that my own brother’s been sneaking around behind my back, watching my girl like—”

“I haven’t done anything,” Sam cuts in, his voice sharp. “You’re acting like I betrayed you, but I haven’t.”

Dean lets out a bitter laugh. “Oh, so I should be grateful? You’ve just been sitting on this, what, for months? Years? Jesus, Sam.”

Sam’s jaw tightens, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “You had no right to read my journal.”

Dean lets out a dry, humorless chuckle. “Oh, that’s rich. That’s what you’re focusing on? I invaded your privacy? I had all rights!” He shakes his head, stepping closer. “You know what, maybe if you weren’t writing about how my girlfriend should be with you, I wouldn’t have had to find out this way.”

“You shouldn’t have found out at all,” Sam snaps, voice low, dangerous.

Dean freezes.

And then it clicks.

“You weren’t gonna say a damn thing, were you?” Dean’s voice drops, something cold settling in his chest. “You were just gonna sit on this forever. Hope one day she woke up and realized she was in the wrong bed?”

Sam doesn’t answer.

That’s all the confirmation Dean needs.

Something ugly twists in his chest. He’s so caught up in it that he doesn’t hear the footsteps in the hall. Doesn’t realize you’re there until—

“What’s going on?”

Both of them snap their heads toward you.

You stand frozen in the doorway, brows furrowed in confusion. The tension in the room is thick enough to choke on.

Dean glances at Sam, expecting him to fold, to back off now that you’re here. But Sam doesn’t. His hands are clenched into fists at his sides, his jaw tight, his eyes—

His eyes are already on you.

Something inside Dean cracks.

“Dean?” you try again, stepping forward slightly. “What’s happening?”

Dean lets out a slow breath, eyes flicking between you and his brother. He should lie. Brush it off. Keep the peace.

But he can’t.

“Ask Sam,” he says flatly. “Seems like he’s got a lot on his mind.”

Your brows pull together in confusion, gaze shifting to Sam. He hesitates, but then Dean sees it—the moment he decides to just go for it.

“I love you,” Sam blurts out.

The silence is deafening.

Your lips part slightly, eyes going wide. “What?”

Dean stares at Sam like he’s lost his mind. “Jesus Christ, dude.”

“I love you,” Sam says again, firmer this time, gaze locked on you. “I have for a long time.”

Dean runs a hand down his face, letting out a sharp breath. “Son of a bitch.”

You’re still frozen, staring at Sam like he’s just shattered the ground beneath you. “Sam, I—”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Sam continues, his voice raw, desperate. “But Dean found out, and now—” He swallows hard. “Now I can’t just keep pretending.”

Dean steps forward, his voice low and heated. “You can’t?” His lips curl in something that isn’t quite a smirk. “Let me get this straight, Sammy. You’ve been in love with my girl—my girl—for who knows how long, and now that you got caught, you think you get to lay it all out there? What, you think she’s just gonna drop everything and run into your arms?”

Sam’s expression hardens. “That’s not—”

“Because she’s with me,” Dean bites out. “She chose me.”

Sam’s breathing is heavy, his hands curled into fists at his sides. He doesn’t look at Dean. He only looks at you.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “She did.”

And then he walks out.

You’re left standing there, stunned into silence.

Dean’s chest rises and falls, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. He glances at you, his heart hammering against his ribs.

“Are you—” He exhales sharply. “Are you in love with him?”

Your lips part, but no sound comes out.

Dean swallows hard. “Jesus,” he mutters, raking a hand through his hair. He shakes his head, lets out a bitter chuckle, and then turns to leave.

And just like that, you’re alone.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @whereiwakewarm ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystemss ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @defnot-svnshine ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @lieutenantchaos ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @funkenniffler

[avaredava]

Can I have your thoughts on sexual tension with jjk men? Like the kind where you both want each other and can't do anything about it?

Kisses ❤️❤️

Yeah of course! If this isn't what you mean by what you want I'll redo it don't worry it's no biggie! I'd rather you say something and I PROMISE i will re-do it! ♥️🫵

Master list

MDNI

Satoru Gojo:

You and Satoru were out shopping for lingerie (he made you), but he wanted to help his girl feel pretty in his defence. You both walk into the store and look around and see a very nice set. Baby blue. You can already tell he's rock hard. "Should I try these on baby?" You ask teasingly. "Yeah." He bluntly says. He wants to drag you into that changing room and fuck the shit out of you while you wear that- until you and him are soaked with sweat cum and tears. But the door is a curtain and there's a worker right beside it. So you really can't get frisky. He groans when you tell him no but you try it on and walk out to show him, since it was just girls out there. He made sure no men were there.

You honestly just gave him a bigger boner and a raging emotion he's never felt. Neediness, wanting, horny... He wants you so bad. You're so getting it when you get home just make sure you have your soul after that. He wants to fuck that out too.

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Megumi Fushiguro

You were sitting beside him listening to Gojo yap to the classroom about reverse technique and blabbering about how awesome and hot he is, which was slightly annoying but everyone learned to tune him out. "He's an idiot." Megumi mumbled like the grump he is. He was mindlessly rubbing your thigh gently under the table. But you were ovulating and this was just getting you fucking wet. And he was hotter than usual, I mean he was always hot- yeah he is. Your mind was squirming with thoughts and you were soaked at this point. He noticed that your face was flushed and he did a small grin. "What's wrong baby." He mumbles into your ear. You take a sharp inhale of breath and he moves his hand higher playing with your panties feeling the wet spot. He randomly pulls hand away and whispers.

"Princess, you're gonna have to wait."

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Nanami Kento

Nanami has the prettiest little secretary. You. He loves those short skirts and tight dress shirts that drive him crazy. When you sit in the corner of the room in his office with that lollipop in your mouth sucking it, he just wishes that it's his cock in your mouth. He swears you do it on purpose sometimes! It drives him absolutely wild. Short tight outfits, sucking and smirking, ain't even the worst thing. It's the fact that you have stripped in his office to change from your clothes to your work outfit. He's never seen you change but he finds the evidence. Your wet pretty pink lacy panties with a bow in the front and a matching bra and he jerks off to your underwear and stuffs the bra in his mouth so he's not loud. He really wishes he was sucking the thing the bra was holding (your tits) not the bra. He thinks he might go mad.

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Toji Fushiguro

You recently got a book. It had a gun scene, where she got gun fucked by her man, and fuck Toji has a gun. And that's for some reason a turn on for you. Your ovulation time makes you extra horny. And just seeing Toji makes you aroused. He is one fine man and god you can stare at him for hours. He comes home holding his gun from his last shoot out and his muscles compressed in that tight shirt of his. God damn. You looked him up and down imagining his gun rubbing your clit rubbing up down your slit going inside, teasing you with it. He sees you checking him out, wanting something. He knows.

He waves his gun in the air.

"You want somethin' doll?"

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Choso Kamo

The air in the crowded space felt stifling, but it had nothing to do with the people around you and everything to do with him. Choso stood close—too close—his body angled just enough that only you could feel the heat radiating off him. His fingers barely skimmed the small of your back, an innocent touch to anyone watching, but the way his knuckles brushed against your skin sent a sharp thrill through you. He didn’t move away. Instead, he leaned in, his lips hovering just beside your ear, his voice low and deliberate.

“You keep pressing into me like that,” he murmured, “Are you testing me… or do you want me to break?” His breath was warm, teasing, as his fingertips traced the faintest pattern against your side before retreating—just enough to make you crave the contact again. The weight of his gaze dragged over your lips before flicking back up to meet your eyes, dark and unreadable, but the tension between you was undeniable. It was a game now—one neither of you seemed willing to lose.

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Suguru Geto

You've been walking around in a bra, all day...

Suguru's fingertips brushed against your jaw, barely there, yet enough to set your skin ablaze. His smirk was lazy, almost amused, but the sharp glint in his eyes told a different story—one of restraint, of something simmering just beneath the surface. "You're making this difficult," he murmured, his voice smooth, dark, laced with amusement and something more dangerous. His breath fanned against your lips, the space between you shrinking with every passing second. "Tell me," he mused, tilting his head ever so slightly, "are you going to keep teasing me, or do you want me to ruin you?"

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Toge Inumaki

One thing for Toge is that he can't talk normally without hurting himself because of his cursed technique. So he uses physical touch. He'll pinch your sides, snuggle you, tickle you, stuff like that.

Right now he's gently kissing your face on his dorm bed running his hands up and down you. You both never went past making out. But the tension between you two is so strong. He decides to use his cursed technique.

"Undress."

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Yuji Itadori

Yuji was playing with Megumi's demon dogs scratching their bellies. You couldn't help but notice how long his fingers are and how nice they curl. You gulp and look away but being the observant man he is, he looked back and noticed your flushed face. "Y/N what's the matter?" He said in a curious but overall cheerful tone.

He notices you zoned out and staring at his fingers before you blink back to reality. "Oh nothing, nothing." He grinned and wiggled is fingers.

"Oh?"

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Comment if you want a longer version of these!

[brawberryz]

What is that skin!?

Damian Wayne × BatSis! Reader 《Platonic!》

Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error

After asking (begging) Damian to play Fornite with you and as crazy as it sounds he accepted! (With gritted teeth but he accepted)

Instead of rotting his brain solving cases, he would rot his brain playing video games

You were getting ready to play, you accept the invitation and when the game was about to start- wait... is that Hatsune Miku!?

"What is that skin, bro?"

You said holding back laughter, you didn't think Damian was a fan of Miku, you thought he was too rude to be interested in those topics like vocaloid

"What's wrong with it?"

He said with an annoyed tone from his headphones

"Well... I mean there's nothing wrong with it but it surprises me because, well... it's you"

Damian arched an eyebrow at your answer "and what's the problem, miku is cool"

"Well I'm just saying that I didn't think you liked anime girls"

You said letting out a small laugh

"Hatsune Miku is NOT an anime girl SHE'S A VOCALOID DAMN IDIOT"

God, with that scream she could have easily broken your eardrums, how the hell did damian not tear his throat?

"Okay now I understand, although I remember having seen her in an anime.."

You said thoughtfully, from the other side damian let out a grunt as he settled into his chair

"But if we're being honest, teto is much better than miku"

"What did you say?"

Damian said with a sinister tone

"What a teto is much better than Miku"

You repeated without realizing when that was the straw that broke the camel's back, in a few seconds the door of your room was knocked down, right there was Damian with his two katanas ready to split you in two and shatter you

"Damian?"

You spoke with a scared tone while you cowered in your chair, he may be much smaller than you but damn it sometimes he was scary

"You will pay for your words"

Damian slowly approached you while you backed away in your chair

"Hey dami, this is too extreme, are we really going to fight over a fictional character?"

You tried to reason with him but nothing could calm your anger, you felt your end approaching

"It's okay do you want to hear it, I'm really sorry!"

You said, maybe if you apologized your death wouldn't be premature

"It's too late to apologize"

"What?... Wait Damian!... DAMIAN!!"

_

Bruce swore that he was going to grow more gray hair than he had if you and Damian kept doing stupid things, he was in the hospital while you rested on a stretcher

On the other side was Damian with a frown as he looked at you and his angry father

"Seriously Damian, what were you thinking when you STABBED AND BREAK YOUR SISTER'S ARM!?"

Bruce said hysterically, he thought that you two would spend some time on charity and would have a better coexistence

But it seems that they decided that it was a better idea to fight to the death

"Damian Wayne, you are grounded for hurting your sister and you will not go on patrol until I say you will go"

"WHAT!?"

The boy said angrily, you swore that Damian was about to jump on Bruce and strangle him

"While you, Miss, are also grounded and will not go on patrol until I say so"

"EH!?, it's not fair, I AM THE VICTIM!"

You said in a dramatic tone as you abruptly stood up from the stretcher

"I'm not going to discuss it anymore, you better respect your punishments"

Bruce spoke in a serious tone as he gave you and Damian a cold look

"Okay dad.."

They both said in unison letting out a sigh of defeat, maybe next time they should control themselves more...

Bonus ( *・ω・)ノ ♡~

Graphic description of how BatSis! Reader looked after Damian entered her room