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planetnini · 24 days
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drunk pt. 2
s. this is part two to this original post! my attempt at a mutual pining ??? slowburn??? with the Honored One, Gojo. Y'all fuck after one of those intense movie confession scenes yada yada.
w.c. 7.2k
w. fem! reader , gojo! x reader , fluff! , angst! , slowburn! , smut! ( I think the slowburn is lowk angsty in my opinion) y/n’s cursed technique is basically like Wanda from marvels abilities, I didn't proofread much srry, btw this is my first time executing a fully fledged fuck so bare with me I tried.
You had only minutely interacted with Satoru ever since that day you went cursed spirit hunting with him. It was normal, nothing was weird or out of the ordinary after, but everything seemed so dull in comparison to that day. Although you could say there was less of a chance to speak when he did go overseas for a couple of days. And you were partially grateful that it was like that. You couldn't fret over your feelings for him if he wasn't feeding you anything to reminisce on.
On one of your minuscule interactions with the famed sorcerer, he asked you to take his newbie first years to a cursed mansion while he would be busy scouring Spain for a key that did who knows what.
Which leads to the current situation at hand.
"What happened here?" Yuuji asks, kicking a stray pebble a few feet away and into the bushes
"The owner of this place slit the throats of everyone in the mansion at night, then shot himself in the head." You squinted at one of the far off windows of the mansion, spotting something that would have most likely been a cursed spirit.
"Gross." Nobara's face turns into one of disgust.
"What level cursed spirit does it have?" It's Megumi asking now
You turn to look at all of them, a glint in your eyes.
"Grade 1"
"WHAT?" Nobara stomps her foot, "Why is Gojo sending us out here on sui-"
"I'm here." You laugh, a red flame swirls around your irises, "I'm the second strongest after Gojo. Give me some credit."
"Gojo gives her most of his missions if he suddenly can't do them." Megumi points out, "We're safe."
"Not entirely." You shift your weight onto one of your hips and cross your arms, "I'm here to intervene if things start going south, which I hope they don't, but under the situation it does then I step in."
That was twenty minutes ago, and things had gone south.
You were ambushed by more than one Special grade in the mansion and left the three first-years to deal with a cursed spirit much akin to the one described in the correction facility that lead to Yuuji's death. The others were almost alike to it, but they were starting to speak, forming words more coherently by the minute.
"What the fuck."
There were four surrounding you, and the only reason they weren't going for the first-years was because you sealed them into the top floor with you. You would have rather dealt with this by yourself, considering you had to hold back because the first years were in the floor beneath you, but you'd have to make do with your seal.
Much to your surprise, halfway through your fight, you could hear the sounds of relief from the first-years and one less screeching curse.
Good, they exorcised it.
Both of your hands were busy repelling your opponents away from you as you neared the staircase so they could hear you.
"GO OUTSIDE! NOW!"
"But you're dealing with four of them!" Nobara started, "If you-"
"JUST WAIT FOR ME OUTSIDE! AND CALL IJICHI!"
You could hear Nobara starting to protest, but you could make out the grumbles of Megumi to place trust in you.
When you got a peek through the window of Yuuji's pink hair, you let out a sigh of relief. You didn't have to hold back anymore, but you weren't going to be able to be the one to take the first-years back to Jujutsu Tech after this.
What you considered the cursed energy equivalent of an atomic bomb was what you released within the enclosed top floor. You concentrated on it breaking apart the curses and squeezing them out of existence--much like a bomb would.
However, the aftermath would be something you'd leave the first years up to. You didn't have to hold back within the confines of the mansion, none of the students were in there, but they were directly outside, waiting for you in a position where contact with the explosion would hurt them. The moment you release your technique, the confines the mansion burst, pulverizing the curses out of existence and subjecting you to the sheer force of your cursed energy being concentrated into one subjectively small enclosed space.
Your cursed energy treated you like shrapnel and launched you headfirst into the concrete ground near the first-years. It was the last thing you remembered before everything after started fading in and out.
You were in the back of Ijichi's car, at the center with Megumi and Yuuji on either side, grabbing at your body. Why were they--
Oh, there's gaping wounds on your stomach and legs.
Nobara is frantically turning to look back from the front passenger seat again and again.
"Drive faster Ijichi!"
Maybe you could start using your cursed technique to heal-
"Oh fuck!" Yuuji starts
You start coughing violently into your lap
Was that blood from your wounds or-
"Ow."
It's the first thing you utter when you wake up, feeling an intense soreness all over your body. They're mere action of lifting up a finger sending shock bolts through your body.
"Finally someone's awake." Shoko sighs carelessly, she's on her phone looking through who knows what.
"How long have I been out?" You groan, closing your eyes to mentally prepare for her to say 3 days or something along those lines.
"Two weeks." She gets up and walks to serve you some water as your eyes shoot open, "Constricting a nuclear explosion to only the confines of a mansion was not a smart decision."
You lean up against your pillows and start to rub your sore neck, "The first-years were right outside of the mansion. I had no other choice."
"Still not your best moment." She blinks tiredly, her careless look on her face.
"How are they anyway?"
"Fine. Small cuts and bruises. They were fine by the end of the day. Gojo's got them in the classroom right now."
"He's back from Spain already?"
"He came back the day after the mansion incident. Thought you would've remembered him poking your head to see if you could hear him this morning." She started to write on a chart, probably yours.
"I don't." You start to look through your faint memories to see if it held onto anything like that.
Nothing.
"Well, you should be fine to go home already." Shoko starts to walk out of your room, raising the chart she was just scribbling on moments ago, "You check out just fine. Get some rest before they probably send you on another mission by tomorrow."
By the time you put on some clothes, provided by Shoko, and take a shower at your place to soothe your muscles, it's been a few hours, leaving Gojo to stare at an empty infirmary bed, your scent lingering in the room.
"She woke up a couple hours ago, must be home already." Shoko mindlessly says as she walks back to her office with a stack of folders in her arms.
After your shower, you're on your couch watching a comfort show of yours while you snack on some ice cream to wallow your feelings in. The reason for your being upset quite obvious.
He should've known you were awake by now. Why wasn't he checking on you.
It annoyed you, both the fact that for someone who had been at your bedside this morning, he hadn't shown up to receive you in your awake state, and that you cared so much you started thinking like his girlfriend.
Satoru didn't owe it to you to come see you. He wasn't yours to be obliged and neither were you his to expect it.
But fuck if you couldn't help checking your phone every five minutes to see if he'd text or call you. Hell, you'd love for him to show up announced any moment.
He didn't though.
You went to sleep upset that night--mostly at him--it wasn't his fault for not showing up, but your heart couldn't help but be disappointed by his lack of presence.
You got called in by Jujutsu High to help train the second-years the following day. A mission with five special grades seemed more appealing when you considered the fact that you'd more than likely see Satoru once there.
"Look who's awake."
Gojo is suddenly walking next to you as you lead the second-years to the sparring grounds. He doesn't look in your direction, merely facing ahead, but he has that same unbothered smile on his face--it bugs you.
He releases a handsome chuckle before starting again, "You drool a little when you're knocked out. Did ya know that?"
"No, I didn't, Satoru." You exhale, distracting yourself by looking for a nice spot to have the students duel.
"It's quite--"
"Shut up Gojo, we have to spar."
Both of you turn to see Makki scowling at the object of most people's irritation, including yours. She's ready to fight, earnestly tugging at the straps of her bag of weapons.
"You pain me, Makki," He grins, fixing his posture to walk away, "Alright, then. Learn well from y/n, she's the second best after all."
He walks in the opposite direction from you guys, trying to taste the last breath he inhaled when he was next to you before he had to let it go. It was his own pitiful attempt at basking in your presence rather than letting his inhibitions crumble and grabbing you by the shoulders to ask if you were okay? what the hell were you thinking? he shouldn't have sent you on that mission, he'd apologize if he let that part of himself come through. If. But he won't do that.
The second-years did learn from you. Makki the most, almost coming close to handing you your ass in hand to hand combat after taking in a bit of advice from you. Her semblance in physical fortitude was getting closer and closer to Toji Zenin every day. Nonetheless, the keyword was almost. She almost won and probably could have been closer to that if you weren't so ticked off by Satoru Gojo. You were in such a zone, honed in on the negativity he procured for you by not giving you the attention you wanted, that you barely spoke while focusing on Makki's every move besides giving advice, your usual praise and teasing gone.
You showered after, the heat of the sun and physical exertion making you uncomfortable in your own sweat and forcing you to take the quickest train to your place instead of getting a ride. And you didn't want to come across him again.
The feelings were too much.
It was why you found yourself halfway through a bottle of whiskey, snacking on a charcuterie board you ordered for the fucks of it. You're wearing another set of those "skimpy pjs" as Gojo had put it and staring out your balcony to gaze at the city's night lights.
You just want him so bad.
You want to kiss him. You want to be in his embrace and tell him he the prettiest eyes ever. And he's a womanizer, it chisels away at your heart. God, he's probably tongue deep in a pretty blonde right now. There's tears raining down on your cheeks and you don't bother to wipe them away, choosing to take another swig of whiskey and accompanying it with a slice of prosciutto to tug some of the sharp aftertaste away.
It hurts, wanting him. He just needs to get from you. You need to get away from him. Fuck the friendship, fuck everything.
ding!
There's someone at your door and you're up to check who the hell is at your apartment on a Friday at 1 a.m. like a lunatic. Your guard slightly goes up the closer you get to your door, the idea of someone dangerous being behind the door coming across your mind. There's a patch of goosebumps raising at the back of your neck, suddenly growing alert at your own thoughts as you tip toe to your peep hole.
And of course it's someone dangerous.
"What do you want Gojo." You don't bother to be much curious about it. You want him out of your face.
He's standing in front of you with his stupid handsomeness. That same bottle of whatever he ordered the other night in his left hand and his irritating smirk on his face along with those blacked out glasses. He's wearing black pants and a tight black shirt too, you can even see a sliver of a silver chain on his neck.
You don't see, hear, or even notice it when it happens, but his breath hitches in the quick fire second between your deadpan question of his whereabouts at your apartment and his teasing question at your teary face.
"Aw, you cryin'?" He tilts his head, canines bearing as his lips curve further up.
It makes you want to use his own red, purple, blue, or whatever fucking color of the rainbow on him. He's a complete ass. Satoru Gojo is a waste of your time. He should forget your address, your number, your favorite croissant filling, everything.
You just want him away from you, where he won't hurt you.
"Yes. Insensitive piece of shit asshole!" You shout, grabbing at your door handle.
"Get out of my face!"
You shut your door forcefully and carelessly, paying no mind to your surroundings or neighbors in your drunken haze.
When you turn around, he's already behind you.
The wine bottle is already on your kitchen island and Gojo's towering over you, his eyebrows scrunched just a bit and his eyes continuously trying to analyze you as his irises move back and forth. He had taken his glasses off, they were hanging off the collar of his shirt now.
Your nose twitches a bit, cursing his ability to teleport. The hate you hold for it becoming a heavy pit in your stomach.
"Get out." The twitch in your nose goes off again.
The panic of the situation is startling to Gojo. You look beautiful, the skimpy pink romper you're wearing is all consuming to him, he wants to rip it off and take you to your room. The crying fit you were just having had softened your features and god the little twitch you keep doing with your nose–
And you're angry at him for some reason.
No, he's stupid. It's his fault, you were crying and instead of letting himself worry about you like a normal person, he teased you about it. His own realization makes him scramble to fix his previous statement.
"No–look I'm sorry for asking like a jerk. Why are you crying?" He takes another step closer to you, pressuring you into answering his question.
Gojo was trying to get a physical tell out of you. You had healed from the mission, right? And sparring with the second-years couldn't have left you pummeled. He couldn't see any wounds on you.
He felt the rise of his hand to cup your cheek, to force you to look at him and tell him what was wrong.
No, he can't.
You look up at him defiantly, biting your cheek and beginning to grow angrier, angry at him, angry at your heart, angry at the tears that still manage to flow down your cheeks.
You take a step back and reiterate yourself.
"Get out, Gojo."
There's a linger of hurt in his eyes, along with confusion when his eyebrows scrunch even more. You can see he's at a loss for words when his mouth keeps slightly opening and closing and his eyes look like they're psychoanalyzing you.
You roll your eyes in a teary frustration and stomp your foot like a two year old throwing a fit when he doesn't move even in the slightest to leave.
"Please, Gojo! Just leave!" You cry, voice cracking, "Get out of my apartment, leave me alone, I don't–"
You almost yelp at the sudden intrusion of your personal space. He's got an iron grip on your hands all of a sudden, forcing them out of the way in case you try to push him away physically this time. And he's staring only dead into your eyes now, an overall concerned look on his face that overpowers his slight irritation at your stubbornness.
"Tell me why you're crying."
You try to loosen out of his grip, only for it to do nothing like you knew it would. It forces you to scrunch your nose in distaste and turn your cheek to him.
"I don't want to see you." You mutter, your voice audibly nasally and battered from the crying fit you were having.
Gojo brings you closer to him with a simple tug of his hands, he leans closer to your face.
"Why." His breathing starts to pick up and it sounds less like a question and more like a sound of offense.
"Let go of me."
"Not until you answer me." He tightens his grip on you just a little for emphasis, to show you that he really won't let go until you fulfill his request.
You still don't want to look at him. You can feel his laser like stare at you, pinning you down and pressuring you into giving him what he wants. It's all too much, his touch is searing to your skin and the fact that his body is so close to yours in hazing your mind. It's so much that you have no choice but to turn to finally look at him and it sends you back to the state you were previously in before he rung your doorbell.
You feel the hot wads of tears start to tumble off your waterline as you vomit a singular word.
"You."
He reels his head back a bit in confusion, "What, I–"
"You! I'm crying because of you!" You babble through your hiccups and tears, "And you show up like a jerk! You didn't even care that I was crying! And–"
"What makes you think I don't care about you?" He jeers you closer, his tone obviously offended now.
"Are you getting early dementia or something! You did that stupid aw you crying bullshit!" The situation growing worse as your eyes go completely bloodshot and there's hiccups continuously interrupting your speech.
"You didn't even care that I woke up! Today, you just came by to be a dick about me drooling! Yesterday, you didn't even show up to see me after I left the infirmary!"
His grip loosens a bit at your declaration of mistrust in his care for you.
He cares. He really cares. You can't keep saying he doesn't, he thinks. He left Spain the moment he got an angry text from Nobara that the mission he entrusted to you left you on death's door. He spent every free moment of his walking by or into your recovery room. He walked by your apartment last night to see if you were okay, his eyes had seen you sleeping safe and sound and it was enough to soothe his heart.
None of which you knew about, he realizes.
By now, you've broken free from his grasp, taking advantage at his loss of words, and fleeing to your bedroom. A loud bang followed the small pit pats of your bare feet on the floor, and it brought him back to reality.
Gojo now stares at the front door of your apartment, eyes still glued to where you were previously standing. He feels like his heart is stuck in his throat, unable to come out and run towards you like it wants to out of fear. He can hear his heartbeat pulsating in the cold silence of your apartment and it makes him confront himself instead of you.
You thought he didn't care and it made you upset.
And the mere fact is gut-wrenching for him.
It's so devastating to him, that his feet are suddenly driving him towards your room and his hands are opening the door.
He noticed the half empty bottle of whiskey and glass on your kitchen island as he passed by too. It makes him even more wary as he stands underneath the doorframe and sees you sat at the edge of your bed, head in your hands and violently crying.
"I care about you."
You hear him, but you don't have the energy to beg him to leave anymore or even notice him. You're spent and too embarrassed of your outburst to look at him.
Gojo wishes you could look at him. He wants the security of your eyes being there for him to bask in and it has him walking to kneel on the ground in front of you.
You feel his hands, soft and tough at the same time, pulling yours down, away from your face. It forces you to look down at him. You see the breath he lets out in relief the moment you make eye contact with him.
You're so weak, you can't help but melt into the feeling of his hands on yours now. A salty tear makes its last run on your face and you're nothing but a sniffling and hiccuping mess as you stare back at him.
He speaks again, "I am so sorry."
"Can you please stop touching me." You rasp out, suddenly becoming aware of how much more painful this is for you when he's feeding into youre delusions.
You can feel his blood stop pulsing for some reason. His hands are suddenly dead weight and his eyes widen.
"I can't do this anymore." You breathe out nasally, readying yourself to ruin your friendship with him.
"I love you Satoru."
It comes out heavy, like a massive paper weight on the air both of you were breathing.
And suddenly, he starts to feel his blood pumping again, the hands holding yours beginning to grow firm in their grip. His chest moves up and down even faster as he stares at you because his brain just short-circuited. He thought the inner works of his domain and technique were all he ever had to worry about handling, but this is taking the cake. Infinity and the knowledge it covers is nothing compared to what you just said.
"And–" You have to take a pause to stop the tears brimming on your waterline again, "it really hurts pining after you. I shouldn't be upset at you for not showing up at my doorstep yesterday like a boyfriend would. I wouldn't be if I weren't such a fool for you."
You're harshly wiping a tear off your cheek out frustration before you continue. You try to settle the now free hand away from him, on your lap, but he takes it back, still looking up at you without a trace of a word making an appearance on his mouth.
"I need you out of my life. I want to move on." You plead, "I can't be in the same room as you or else ill think about how bad I want to be next to you. I can't be this close to you and not kiss you. I want to wake up after getting hurt from a mission and not drown myself in whiskey because you didn't show up at my door to check on me."
"No."
Gojo is looking at you like you're an idiot. His face is twisted in a mix of offense and disgust, part of his nose is wrinkled and his eyebrows are twisted.
"Gojo–"
"Stop calling me by my last name." He cuts, eyes now harsh on you.
You're confused now, bleary eyes trying to understand him and how negative he seems right now. You want to say something, but everything you can think of is at the tip of your tongue and you're opening and closing your mouth like a fish on dry land.
Gojo looks like he wants to say something too, and like he knows what he wants to say, but he's struggling to just spit it out as he minimally glares at you. If you squint hard enough though, you might have just been able to see the slight gloss of sadness color over his eyes.
"I don't want you out of my life." He shakes his head, eyebrows still furrowed.
You sniffle, "But I just said that–"
You're pulled down by your hands and your face lands right smack on his, followed by a kiss ensued by him.
The kiss is enough to send you to sleep, it's soothing and everything you need to forget all your worries. And it's a little salty, a byproduct of your fit, but it doesn't seem to matter when Gojo reaches a hand up to your cheek and deepens his reach a little, a low grunt of affection coming from his throat when you let out a sigh.
It was short-lived, but it said enough.
When Satoru pulls back, he's still concentrated on looking for tells on your face, trying to make he got his point across.
"I've been putting you at the back of my mind for the past two years." He confesses sternly meanwhile he caresses both of your hands with his thumbs, rubbing soothing circles in the wake of his words. "I care about you so much I force myself not to." The last few words giving him the inclination to hang his head in shame.
"And I am so sorry it made you cry." He sighs in defeat, raising up both of your hands to kiss them as an apology. He's looking up at you with his big blue eyes, pleading for your mercy and you want to move, you want to act. It's why you lean down and give him a small peck on the lips to wake him up a little then dive back in again to kiss him.
It doesn't last long in that position–merely five seconds–until Satoru starts rising and pushing you back onto the bed softly. He pushes you forward onto the bed to make room for his legs before one of his hands is perched right next to your head and the other is guiding your thigh to wrap your leg around his waist.
Your hands run and grasp at his hair and neck, making sure to appreciate the feeling of his skin beneath your hands.
You begin to moan when he starts using tongue on you and it gets a rise out of him in the form of him grinding his bulge against your crotch.
"Satoru."
"Fuck." He groans, breathing hard as he kisses you. He can't just leave after this. He can't go back to his apartment. Hell he doesn't even know if he could pull himself away from you right now if there were a sudden emergency.
He feels you moving underneath him and he opens his eyes mid kiss to see you moving down the straps of your romper. The action causes him to pull back so he can see what you're trying to do.
"What are you doing?" He breathes, lips rosy and glossy from both of you guys' spit.
You free your arms from the thin pink straps right as he says that and look him in the eyes when you pull the spandex like material below your breasts.
"What I just did." You nod down innocently towards your boobs.
"Fuck. Fuck." He groans, reaching to palm both of them. It only lasts for a second before he starts to pinch at them, rubbing them between his fingers and eliciting whimpers from you.
"Yeah, just like that baby."
It makes move your hips up in search of him and it has him leaning back down to kiss you, needier this time. Satoru includes more tongue than anything, wanting to just be in you, in your skin, everywhere, as close as he can get.
You start to yank at the bottom his shirt soon enough.
"Take this off." You whine
Easily and quickly, he complies to your request, grabbing his shirt by the collar and taking it off of his body. He throws it behind him and is about to lean back down when his eyes go astray towards your crotch.
There's a wet patch very obviously soaking through and he can see the mold of your pussy sticking to the damp material. It makes his cock jump at the sight and he can't help but run a finger across your slit.
It makes a shiver run up your spine and a moan leave your mouth.
"You like that?" He's staring you down when you look back at him after having shut your eyes in pleasure.
"Mhm." You nod, eyebrows furrowed and eyes blown wide with lust as you take both of his hands and make him grab the material of your romper. "Take it off of me."
Satoru doesn't need to say anything as he obeys your request. He pulls at your pajamas and helps you slide it off your legs, too overwhelmed by the intensity of the situation to make any witty or teasing comments.
What wasn't part of your request was when he held both of your legs up in the air by squishing your thighs together and dove straight for your pussy.
You almost scream at the sudden intrusion of him initiating a makeout session with your pussy. The squishing of your legs making the sensation more intense for some reason. You can hear Satoru groaning into you while he sucks on your clit. He shifts his weight so that his arm is wrapped around your legs to keep them together and you wonder why he switches to only one until you feel a singular digit of his sliding into your walls.
" 'Toru." You moan, legs twitching a bit when you feel him hook a finger up and apply pressure to that one spot that has you begging for more.
"Gimme another one, please." You urge, fisting at the sheets next to you for some sort of relief.
"I got on the first flight back the second I heard what happened." He confesses, breath raggedy as he peers over from the side of your legs and gives you the other finger you asked for. His entire lower side of his is glistening, you almost feel embarrassed that it's your juices.
He continues confessing and pumping his fingers in and out of you, the squelching noises accompanying his words.
"I was scared shitless." He almost grieves, a messy confusion of his own sexual energy and his pleading for your forgiveness. Satoru starts to plant a flutter of kisses along your thigh while he keeps his eyes on you. "I love you so much." He groans, extremely turned on by the increasing pulsing of your walls and the faces you keep making.
"Yea? Oh fuck–" The last five words he uttered were adding even more ecstasy to your euphoria and had started to plummet you into your orgasm when coupled with the deeper and faster pace Satoru introduced.
"Come on, pretty. Cum for me." Satoru almost sounds like he's begging, mouth opening in awe in sync with yours at the overwhelming sense of pleasure crashing over you.
It comes out in a long mix between a moan and a whine, along with the wriggle of your hips and legs as Satoru keeps moving his fingers in and out while you ride out your high.
You're heaving when it washes over and you're about to flinch at the overstimulation of Satoru's fingers when he pulls them out and puts them in his mouth. You can see him slightly roll his eyes back when he hollows his cheeks a bit to fully clean his fingers off and get your taste out of them.
Satoru lets go of the grip he had keeping your legs up, and he gets up to quickly take his pants off, followed by his boxers, and–
"You're big." You marvel, sitting up now and admiring the view, also trying to wrap your head around the fact that he's going to hurt. He's pretty and long, reaching a bit past his belly button when it slaps against his stomach, and his girth is scream worthy.
When Satoru looks down, you look so innocent, peering at him through your lashes before focusing your gaze back on his length. He sees your thighs shift against each other–a boost to his ego and his horniness–but he can also tell you're a little freaked out by the sheer size.
"We don't have to." He heaves earnestly, chest rising and falling a bit faster than usual out of pent up sexual aggression from fingering you and watching you cum, and the need to be inside of you right now, which he'd be more than capable of stowing away for now if you didn't feel comfortable taking him.
"We can make it fit." You reassure softly and lean up to tug one of his hands to you in the bed while his eyes widen.
Satoru is in between your legs now, eyeing you down with lust blown pupils, an animal like stare that has you shrinking into the bed the more it lingers. Truth be told, he doesn't know how to act now that he's got you underneath him, legs spread, and your pretty little face waiting for him to do something.
His first move is to kiss you again, he missed your lips in the brief few minutes he was eating you out and fingering you. The kiss makes your skin crawl and pull him closer to you by the shoulders you have your arms wrapped around.
His cock lands right between your lips after that and it makes both of you suck in a breath the contact, a needy grind of both of yours' hips following.
"I want you inside of me 'Toru." You sigh against his ear as he dips his head down into your neck, mouthing and biting.
You feel his grip in the sheets right next to your head tighten and manage to get a view of his large and broad back contorting at the sentence.
"How bad do you want it?" He almost snarls, moving his hips so his cock keeps sliding between your folds, gathering your slick on his shaft and stimulating your clit in the process. His head leans down even further and he's sucking on your nipple, nipping a bit to get squeals out of you for not answering him as fast he wanted you to.
"I want it really bad." You can't stand the pulsating between your legs anymore, your hips can only move towards him for so long before you feel like you'll die. You needily scratch at his back when his other hand pinches your nipple particularly hard. "I feel like I'm gonna die if you don't fuck my pussy right now." It comes out whiny and high-pitched, the overall want for him making you pathetic.
He comes back up with a crazed stare more intense than the last one and dives for your mouth again, aggressive and overwhelming, like he wants to swallow you whole. There's teeth and tongue everywhere, you wouldn't be surprised if your lips were bleeding by the end of this.
When you're caught up in the feeling of his chest on yours and his heavy breathing against yours while you kiss, he starts lining himself up to your entrance. The intrusion of his fat tip in your hole interrupting your ability to kiss and making your jaw go slack.
You start to lift your hips off the bed without thinking and Satoru wraps his arm around your waist to keep you in place. He hasn't moved any further, basking in the invitation of your warmth and giving you time to adjust.
"It's so big." You mutter, hand in his hair and the other holding onto his back for dear life while you look at the rest you have to take.
It's the first time he even so much as smiles a little when he looks up at you and you see a glint of his canines and a glossed over look in his eyes. "Yea?"
"Mhm." You nod, eyebrows knitting when he pulls back and inches in a little further with a shallow thrust.
He drops his head into your neck, trying to keep himself from biting the bullet and completely pushing into you in one go. "Fuck." He moans when he thrusts back in again
He picks up the pace a little with every shallow thrust that gets him an inch deeper in you and by the time he's fully in, he's giving you hard and punctual thrusts. You're close to screaming every time he bottoms out, mouth open while you whine and moan. It makes him take advantage and he swallows your noises by shoving his tongue down your throat. He licks at your tongue, almost as if he's trying to wrap around it like you're doing to him.
"Love –hearin' –that –pretty fuckin –pussy –take me." He grunts against your lips, punctuating between almost every word with a sharp thrust into you. The soft squelching sounds reminding him that he's very much inside of you and making a mess of you.
"I–" You struggle to speak, the sex taking away your ability to speak.
And Satoru doesn't care, reaching a hand up to your chin to make you look at him as he keeps pummeling into you. "You what baby?"
The petname only adds to your euphoria, making it even more difficult to respond to him. But he's still got your chin in his hand, and he's not showing any signs of looking away or stopping his pace.
"I–I mmmmm–I love–love you."
His eyes soften a little, still as ravenous considering he's pummeling your pussy for the first time, but they soften just a smidge nonetheless. And he moves the hand holding your chin to cup your cheek, running a soothing thumb as he returns the affection to you.
"I love you too. Fuck you're clamping down so tight. Shit. I love you so much y/n. Don't want anybody else to have you. Oh, god. You make me so fucking crazy."
The hand previously on your cheek is now snaking its way down, stopping until his thumb is rubbing your clit and eliciting porn worthy moans from you at the added stimulation.
"You're gonna make me cum Satoru." You breathe out, high pitched and almost moaning loud enough to wake up anyone within the vicinity of your building
The warning is an incentive for Satoru to lift one of your legs up, letting him reach deeper and keep the same pace that has your pussy doing that familiar chasing spasm around his cock now instead of his fingers.
"Cum for baby." He gasps out, abs flexing as he struggles with his own pleasure. "I know you fuckin can. Please. Please. Please. Need to feel it on my dick."
By the fourth thrust in the new position your stomach drops and your legs are spasming trying to close and fidget, but Satoru's iron grip on you stops it from happening. He keeps fucking you through it, staring at you as he does, making sure to frame the picture of you coming on his cock for the first time in his head for all of eternity.
There's less resistance from you when you fall limp after and just take it. Your legs feel like jelly and fall even more moldable to Satoru's physical requests, letting him push your leg farther back and dig even deeper into you how he wants. You know it hurts, that you're supposed to at least try to push away his cock from molding into you again and again even after you've reached your peak, but it just feels so damn good to hurt this way. All you can do is squeal after every thrust of his. And when you feel his pace grow sloppier and faster, it makes you reach for his neck and hair, roping him into you.
"I'm gonna cum." Satoru's cheeks are rosy and his eyes are glazed over as he looks at you, desperation for his release written all over them.
"Cum for me 'Toru." You whine, eyes almost rolling back from a particular jolt of his hips and leaning up as much as you can to plant a chaste kiss on his bottom lip. "Want your cum to fill me up. I need it so bad."
"Please, 'Toru. Cum in me, please."
It drives him over the edge. He drops his weight on you to kiss you through the stuttering of his hips and jolts of his cum into you. You feel his warmth pooling inside of you and can hear both of you guys' labored breathing after the whirlwind sex you just had.
Satoru's rough and passionate kisses from seconds ago turned into chaste quick ones that he kept stealing from you until he shifted his weight from his palm to his forearm and cupped the side of your face, affectionally moving a stray hair from your forehead.
His sky blue eyes peered down at you, taking in the sight intensely, as if any moment you could try to push him away from your life again.
"You're so beautiful." He breathes in awe, gaze turned soft.
"So are you." You replicate his tone, cupping his face in return and appreciating the fact that he looks so pretty and handsome in the moonlight seeping through your floor to ceiling windows right now.
He grabs at one of the hands on his face and brings it to his lips, placing a warm kiss atop of it.
"I was here last night." He confesses, "I passed by your apartment to see if you were fine while you were sleeping." He wants to look away in shame. "I didn't think– There was–"
Satoru closes his eyes in frustration for a second at himself before finding his footing again.
"I've been doing everything I can to be there for you without you knowing, without me knowing, I didn't even know I was going to spend the entire day with you that other day until my mouth found a reason to make it about work."
He sighs at himself before he continues, "I care."
"I spent every moment I could waiting for you to wake up. I checked on your apartment to clean it. I looked for your cursed energy anytime I was within a vicinity of the school to see if you were recovering. I care."
You're close to speechless at his confession, resisting the urge to pull him down and litter his entire face in kisses, instead forcing yourself to speak.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you." You return sheepishly, feeling bad for the tantrum you threw at him.
"It's fine." Satoru reassures, planting a kiss on your forehead before looking down at where the two of you are connected. "How are you feeling?"
"Good." You bite your lip sweetly, letting a little bit of your love fueled smile come through while you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer in your embrace. "I could never cum like that by myself."
Satoru leers over you like a predator now, a full smile showing through and distinctly premiering his canines, his ego was stroked, "Good thing I'm here now then."
"Mhm" You nod eagerly, matching the upturn of his lips too.
"Oh. Come here." He groans and laughs a little, a hand on your back when he flips the both of you over and litters your face with kisses. Your giggles fuel him and he pulls you closer to him.
Neither of you are going to let go again.
637 notes · View notes
planetnini · 1 month
Text
TIS IS BEAUTIFUL
i can’t close my eyes alone ; satoru gojo
synopsis; arguing with satoru is always exhausting. bitter and spiteful, you leave him in the bedroom and go find another place to sleep; your couch would be the obvious choice, but where’s the fun in that?
word count; 4.2k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, f!reader (he calls you ’stubborn girl’ n ’pretty girl’ but other than that it’s gn!!), toru and reader have a fight, reader sleeps in the bathtub (don’t ask it came to me in a vision), hurt/comfort, he's doing his best :<, fluff!!
a/n; smth abt …. arguing w satoru gojo ……. idk why the concept has possessed me in the way that it has i just think hurt/comfort w toru is <33
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okay, so maybe this wasn’t the best idea you’ve ever had.
in your defense, you weren’t exactly thinking straight; fueled by spite, eager to get far away, and admittedly a little curious as to how it would feel, the decision was made almost purely on impulse. and stupidity, probably.
it’s not comfortable at all.
maybe it could be. maybe if you had just a couple more pillows, a fluffier blanket with a cozier texture. maybe if you had something soft to put beneath you, another blanket or a comforter or — whatever. maybe if you had a warm cup of tea to drink. maybe if you had something warm to hug to sleep. 
or someone.
(aw, what’s wrong? can’t sleep without me after all, huh?)
— nope. you are not going back there. 
just the thought of how smug he’d get makes you bite the inside of your cheek, increasing your already growing frustrations. in desperate search of a more comfortable position, you nuzzle further into the pillow, but nothing works.
your limbs feel stiff, and your bones can’t seem to relax, a discomforting numbness seeping into your spine. and it’s cold. the feeling of porcelain against your skin keeps you tossing and turning, akin to an icy winter breeze, caressing the apple of your cheek. 
still, there’s simply no other option. under absolutely no circumstances can you turn back now. not when you’ve come this far, when you can almost begin to sense an inkling of sleep’s familiar call, the drowsy flutter of your eyelashes.
it takes time, and perseverance — but eventually, the road to sleep does seem to brighten on the horizon. crawling closer and closer, lulling you into its embrace, while all you can do is lie there. completely at its mercy, exhaustion ghosting your subconscious, eyelids ripe with fatigue. 
slowly but surely, your consciousness begins to fade. tenderly, soothingly, like a curtain over your eyes being slowly unveiled. you can almost taste it, on the tip of your tongue; sleep is only a moment away.
soon, you’ll fall into that cozy abyss. and then you’ll open your eyes, and the morning sun will greet you. it’ll be a new day, a better day.
so you keep your eyes closed, and sink a little further into the plush of your pillow, and —
the light flickers on.
in the state you’re in, tiptoeing on the edge between dreams and reality, so tantalizingly close to falling asleep, the brightness is positively grating. even through your shut eyes, it invades your senses — a glow so irritating it’s startling. the bathroom lights mock you with their shine, illuminating your figure, curled up in the tiny bathtub. 
the whine you let out is involuntary, coaxed out from deep within your throat, as the uncomfortable sensation rouses you from your would-be slumber.
satoru raises an unimpressed eyebrow, where he stands by the door.
chest bare, wearing only a flimsy pair of sleeping shorts, he looks at you with tired eyes. exasperation painted onto his dishevelled features. then he clicks his tongue, voice raspy and rich with fatigue.
”you’re ridiculous.”
the judgemental tilt of his voice only makes the annoyance in your veins bubble up once more, just when it was finally about to dwindle. eyes squeezed shut to escape the burn of the artificial light, you let out a sharp wince, burrowing your face deeper into the pillow. 
”turn it off!”
ignoring your angry plea, satoru makes his way over to you. with long, slow strides, vaguely uncoordinated steps. just a little clumsy. he plops down on the edge of the bathtub, and gazes down at you.
you’re lying on your side, arms wrapped around a fluffy cushion, knees against your chest. under the illumination of the bathroom lights, he can see you clearly; messy hair that he yearns to ruffle, a crease between your brows that he yearns to smooth away.
you look awfully uncomfortable, to no one’s surprise. he isn’t sure what else you were expecting. 
despite the sting of the bright lights, you force your eyes open — only to give satoru a halfhearted glare, an attempt at appearing intimidating. though you somehow doubt it’ll work.
resting his jaw on the heel of his palm, satoru tilts his head. soft locks of white hair follow the movement, falling over his eyes, a little more tousled than usual. like he’s been tossing and turning, sprawled out on the bedroom mattress.
and, just like you suspected, the dirty look you send his way doesn’t seem to scare him off. not even in the slightest. if anything, you think you catch a flicker of lazy amusement dancing through his eyes. and it irks you, it does — an itch beneath your skin, a taste of irritation on your tongue.
because satoru is looking at you like you’re somehow in the wrong, here, like you’re the one acting out. as if he isn’t the reason you’re here in the first place.
at this point, you barely even remember what the fight was about. too sleep-deprived to recall it properly, too stressed to make a genuine attempt. all you remember is getting ready for bed, and the familiar sensation of frustration prickling your skin. you remember his pretty little grin, his teasing remarks and refusal to take you seriously.
remember the way he laughed, when you told him what was bothering you; the crinkle of his eyes, the warmth of his hands reaching over to squish your cheeks. a little patronizing.
(there was no malicious intent behind it, that much you know. he probably just wanted to lighten the mood. but it irked you, all the same. hurt you, maybe. just a little bit.)
then you remember storming out. grabbing a blanket and pillow and telling him to sleep on his own, if that’s how he was going to be. the words felt cold as they left your mouth, little breathy icicles. and then you left.
which is why you’re here, right now. curled up in your goddamn bathtub, for some reason that still escapes you, trying desperately to get even a wink of sleep without your boyfriend there to help.
and that’s also why satoru is here, back a tad slouched as he sits on the edge of the bathtub, looking at you like you’re some misbehaving cat. blinking slowly, drowsily, dragged down by the fatigue clinging to his eyelashes. 
(he can’t sleep, either.)
”you’re really gonna sleep in there?” he sighs, after a moment’s pause. any honest concern in his voice is almost entirely overshadowed by the sense of admonition that follows it.
a scoff falls from your lips, sharp like a razorblade. ”yes,” you deadpan, shifting to lie on your stomach, hiding away from his insistent view. ”i was sleeping just fine before you barged in here.”
satoru shoots you a look, thoroughly unimpressed, entirely unconvinced of your blatant lie. ”you’re being dumb,” he huffs. ”at least sleep on the couch.”
”i don’t wanna hear that from you,” comes a hiss, low and disgruntled. a growing irritation. ”and i’m comfortable where i am.”
another dissatisfied huff. why are you being so irrational? he just doesn’t get it. scrambling for excuses, satoru tries his hand at another tactic. 
”you’ll hurt your back.”
another little scoff. oh, so now he suddenly cares? you can’t believe him. 
”so what?”
a moment passes. satoru bites his lip, teeth sinking softly into the flesh; a little pang of ache, but it’s nothing compared to the twist of discomfort in his chest. you’re making this more difficult than it has to be, he thinks. always so stubborn. 
what is he supposed to say? how is he supposed to convince you to come back to bed, when you’re already so set on denying him?
god, he’s tired. he just wants to sleep, close his jaded eyes. just wants to not have to think, for a couple hours, curled up with the only person who makes him feel safe. just wants to dream in soft shapes.
but if you aren’t there, then…
a deep sigh. weary, annoyed. ”c’mon,” he coaxes, blinking sluggishly. ”you know you won’t be able to fall asleep without me. can’t we just make up already?”
your nails dig into the fabric of your blanket. every word he says only seems to deepen the sense of irritation plaguing your sleep-deprived mind.
it makes you want to shut him out, bury your head in the soft sheets and forget about everything else. he keeps acting like you’re just overreacting, like you wanted to have an argument. like he wasn’t the one who made you upset and then laughed at you about it. 
”i don’t need you to fall asleep,” you grumble, muffled by the pillow in your grasp, arms tightening around it. nuzzling deeper into the soft velvet comfort.
satoru’s fingers twitch, as if urging him to pull you close. he almost glares at the cushion in your arms, that you’re hugging so fondly, putting all your body weight on — snuggling into it in search of comfort and warmth.
(that should be his chest.)
the gears in his head turn, slowly and mechanically, as he brings a hand up to card through his hair.
satoru hates seeing you so upset, so far away from him. having to watch you close yourself off, not allowing him to be near, soothe you and take care of you. kiss all your worries away. that’s all he wants to do, everything he needs to keep himself whole, to keep himself from being devoured by an exhaustion he’s lived with for as long as he can remember.
a strong frustration gnaws at his conscience. a certain desperation.
a big, heavy sigh leaves his lips. it bounces off the walls of the bathroom, the white tiles and shiny mirror, as he drags it out. almost childishly. then he’s angling his body to face you properly, big hands resting on his knees, a determined gaze set on your figure.
”look, i’m sorry,” he starts, rigid and earnest. blinking once, twice, chasing away the drowsy weight of his eyelids. ”i shouldn’t have laughed.”
your ears perk up.
shifting to your side as if hoping to hear him better, you peek up at him through half-lidded eyes. almost in disbelief, a kind of hope sprouting in the corners of your dilated pupils.
is he genuinely going to apologize, you wonder? admit that he was in the wrong? does he actually feel bad?
a moment passes. slow, drawn out, until satoru’s voice spills into the air again.
”there. i apologized,” he exhales, a little gruff. annoyed. ”now will you please just come to bed?”
wow. 
okay, nevermind. you hope the ceiling fan falls on him.
beneath your skin, a mellow kind of anger bubbles up, blood slowly coming to a boiling point. he’s not sorry at all. of course he isn’t. you were stupid to think he’d actually give you a sincere apology, stupid to think he’d do the one thing that would actually make you want to fall back into his comforting embrace. stupid, stupid. 
clenching your teeth, nails digging into the velvet fabric of the pillow, your eyelids flutter shut once more. only this time, you don’t plan on opening them again — at least not until morning comes. not until you see the sunkissed tiles of the bathroom, until the ache inside your chest has passed.
”satoru,” you enunciate, frigid and final. ”just let me sleep. we can talk tomorrow.” a beat. the tiniest grumble resounds from your lips, tinged with exhaustion. ”i’m too tired for this.”
under his breath, satoru winces. that palpable fatigue in your words sends a tremor running through his chest, discomforting, a shiver of his heart. you won’t look at him anymore, and the hint of finality in your tone makes him feel slightly dejected.
god, he’s awful at this. sincerity has never been his strong suit. he’s gotten better, lately, but it’s still so very foreign.
he didn’t mean to make you angry, didn’t mean to upset you. didn’t mean for the lilt of his voice to make his apology sound insincere. but that’s still what happened.
and satoru isn’t quite sure what to do. 
he’s tired. eyes heavy with lost sleep, glimpses of would-be nightmares he knows he’d have were he to fall asleep right now. an anxious lump has long since formed in the back of his throat, and he misses you. misses your presence, your warmth. misses the feeling of having you close, the knowledge that you haven’t left yet.
(without you, he can’t —)
a sigh. soft, and resigned, flowing from his lips.
the inner turmoil in satoru’s mind begins to fade, slowly but surely, smoothed away by the sight of you. bundled up in a blanket too small to cover you properly, lying in that cold and cramped bathtub, discomfort evident in your features. sadness dripping from the bitter words you grace him with.
so out of reach, too far for him to follow, a boundary he wants to cross more than anything. but something about that meek expression makes him falter, makes his heart twist and turn inside his ribcage.
(he knows that you’re tired, too.)
so satoru swallows his pride.
the words are spoken in a whisper, hushed, through a voice so low you wouldn’t hear it if the silence of the bathroom wasn’t so suffocating. a soft lilt of his voice, bare and raw. meek, in a way that makes him want to crawl under a rock and die. but it’s there, and he lets you hear it; that soft little truth.
”… i can’t sleep without you.”
satoru doesn’t look at you. his confession rings in your ears, laced together with a softness you’ve come to associate with warm spring mornings and rooms so dark you can’t see his face. moments in which satoru feels safe. safe enough to be sincere.
— inevitably, your heart begins to soften.
(he’s trying. it’s difficult for him, but he’s really trying. sincerity and honesty are things that have been used against him all his life, so it’s no wonder he’d be scared.)
it’s very hard to stay mad at him, when he sounds like that. when his words come out sounding a little too much like a plea, a silent call for help. 
with hesitance, you allow your eyes to flutter open, shifting a little to get a better look at him. he’s there, staring into space — the man you’ve grown to love so dearly. his tousled white hair, those slightly forlorn eyes. the vague darkness beneath them, slightly puffy skin. that tired, tired expression. 
satoru taps the edge of the tub with the pads of his fingers, absentmindedly. index finger, middle finger, ring finger, over and over.
then, at last, he meets your gaze. and you think he swallows down a gulp, before smiling — it’s a pretty smile, somewhat tiny. a little sheepish, but awfully sincere. awfully satoru.
he tilts his head, gazing into your eyes with a tenderness that melts your heart to the marrow.
”… please?”
a second passes. then two. 
soft and melodic, your heartbeat resounds in your ears, akin to a lullaby. like the call of a siren, coaxing you into giving in. and you’re weak, you realize, so very weak. just a smile and a tilt of his head, and you’re rendered utterly helpless. 
(he’s just too pretty.)
without fully realizing it yourself, you’ve begun to move, dragging yourself up with sluggish motions. blanket still draped over your shoulders, and pillow snug against your chest, you blink. drowsily, slowly. a little meekly. 
and satoru brightens.
it’s visible, in the way he physically perks up, back straightening, smile finally reaching his aquamarine eyes. a blend between hope and affection sprouts in them, slathered over with something honeyed.
a soft grin blooms on his lips, and he opens his arms wide — silently beckoning you to fall into his embrace. a raspy coo tiptoes on his tongue. 
”c’mere.”
before you can make a move to do so, satoru leans over. scooping you up with ease, as if you weigh absolutely nothing, tucking you into his warm embrace. smothering you in his cushiony chest.
almost instinctively, your arms go to wrap around his neck, cheek smushed against the warm skin of his shoulder. if you strain your ears, you think you can hear the soft patter of his heartbeat. he smells of the tiramisu you ate before going to bed, and just a hint of expensive cologne. he smells of comfort.
satoru is soft, and warm, and everything you need right now. lulling you back into that cozy, sleepy state. your very own personal dose of melanin.
with a big palm on the small of your back, satoru keeps you pressed up against his chest, as if you could change your mind and try to escape at any moment. he stands up, still holding you, and hikes your legs around his waist. breathing out a satisfied hum, before turning on his heel.
satoru smiles, and presses a kiss to the crown of your head. ”let’s get you back to bed, baby.”
after turning the bathroom lights off, he begins to walk to your shared bedroom, still carrying you with one arm. always so strong and reliable. you know for a fact that he’s not going to drop you, so you opt to close your tired eyes; stretching out your limbs, lazily, releasing a quiet yawn that makes his lips curl up.
despite your lingering frustration, you find yourself nuzzling into the crook of his neck — and satoru coos, so painfully soft that you barely even hear it. the restlessness inside his own chest washed away, by the familairity of your body against his.
and before you know it, he’s dropped you down on the mattress. gently, but still enough to make you feel a little jostled, so close to falling asleep in his arms. he drags the blanket up to cover you, tucking you in; this one is bigger, with a fluffier texture, enough to cover you both with ease.
smiling softly at the sight of you all cozy, content in the knowledge that you’re finally comfortable, satoru crawls beneath the blanket and takes his rightful place beside you. eyes crinkled at the corners, rich with affection.
two strong arms reach around your waist, to pull you flush against him, until your head meets his chest and you can hear the soft thrumming of his heartstrings. then he sighs, in pure bliss, thoroughly content. melting into your embrace, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head, nuzzling into the warmth that seeps from your body to his.
he runs his big hands down your back, affectionately, rubbing circles into your skin. coaxing you into melting a little, too.
”see, isn’t this much better?” he smiles, a little cheeky. such a tease.
”… the bathtub was fine.”
a chuckle rumbles through his chest, rich with fondness. his hand goes to card through your hair, nimble fingers smoothing down your scalp and running through the soft strands. every touch gentle, full of care. every word soaked in a syrupy sweetness.
”stubborn girl.”
despite your best wishes, you’re too tired to bite back the blissful sigh that leaves your lips. a part of you still wants to protest, to push him away —
but then you start leaning into his touch. helpless to his warm hands, his soothing voice. satoru is just a little too good at making you melt. so good that you finally begin to let your guard down, nuzzling into his bare skin, sinking a little further into the mattress. 
and satoru stifles a coo. 
”honestly,” he sighs, equal parts exasperated and amused. ”sleeping in the bathtub… you’re so silly.”
before you have a chance to respond, he’s pulling back — ever so slightly, just to get a better look at your face. arms looped around his neck, you blink up at him with droopy eyes, and he can’t resist the dopey grin that sneaks its way onto his lips. doesn’t even begin to try, when you look so unbearably sweet.
unable to stop himself, he broaches the distance between you, leaning close to kiss the top of your nose. and you squeeze your eyes shut at the gesture, face scrunching up, but it only makes him chuckle. smiling, honey-sweet, he admires your sleepy pout. soaks up every soft little grumble that slips from your lips.
his hand comes to cradle your cheek, thumb smoothing down your cheekbone. just gazing at you, taking you in, every single contour of your face. there is only adoration in his eyes. something silently delighted, that seeps into his words, his raspy voice.
”my pretty, pretty girl.”
a heat rushes to your cheeks. looking up at him, into those lovesick eyes, you can’t help but grow flustered.
he looks so content.
all you manage is a weak furrow of your brows, pressing a palm against his bare skin. softly, as if pushing him away, forehead meeting his chest with a soft bonk. hiding away, so he won’t see how much his words affect you.
”lemme sleep, toru…” you mumble, stifling a yawn.
unfortunately, your boyfriend is not one to give in so easily. before long, his fingertips are trailing across the skin of your jaw, coaxing you into lifting your chin. and you’re too sleepy to resist — practically melting, as he begins to smear openmouthed kisses all over your face. all you can do is close your eyes, attempting to ignore the sound of his exaggerated mwahs, frowning in a silent disapproval that you know you don’t actually mean.
satoru notices it, though. he always does.
”you still mad at me, baby?” he asks, in a way that sounds a little like he’s cooing at you. there’s a teasing tilt to his voice, but it’s also a genuine question. your frown deepens.
averting your gaze with a soft huff, even as he cradles your jaw with his slender fingers, a pout plays at your lips. under his kind eyes, you feel just a bit meek — recalling your argument from before. absentmindedly, you fidget with the waistband of his shorts, hoping to ease your nerves.
despite your valiant efforts to direct your vocal cords in a different direction, the voice that spills from your lips comes out sounding just a tad hurt.
”… you never take me seriously.”
satoru’s eyes soften.
his smile falters, by a hair, a brief stilling of movement. subtle, but hard not to pick up on. there’s a certain sense of shame in his irises, a genuine guilt stirring his heartstrings; several discomforting sensations, gnawing at the bones of his ribcage.
(you look so small.)
two hands reach out to cup your cheeks, big and warm. swallowing up your whole face. and before you can react, satoru leans in to press a sweet, chaste kiss against your lips. he tastes like tiramisu. 
”’m sorry. we can talk about it tomorrow, okay?” he hums, and you can tell that he means it. ”i promise that i’ll take you seriously. for real, this time.”
as you look into those eyes of his, blue and soft around the edges, the last of your frustration is finally washed away. with a meek downward glance, and a faint nod, satoru relaxes — releasing a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. relieved at your silent forgiveness.
tomorrow, he’ll definitely make it up to you. he’ll hear you out, without opening his big mouth, or trying to skirt around any emotions that make him feel even slightly uncomfortable. smoothing a big palm down your back, he hopes you feel it as a silent apology. 
for now, he’ll just hold you. he’ll hold you, and kiss all your worries away, and keep you comfy and warm. that’s his duty. the only one he’d willingly choose, the only weight on his shoulders that never feels even a little bit suffocating. the only one he wouldn’t cast away, if given the chance.
nuzzling back into the safety of his collarbone, your heartbeat settles into a drowsy rhythm, slow and serene. satoru squeezes you in a tight hug, reassuring. comforting.
he can be a handful, and a little insensitive, but you love him a lot. you can’t imagine not loving him. 
”… goodnight, toru,” you whisper. ready to give into sleep’s call, at last.
satoru smiles. you can hear it in his voice, sweet and silky, a soft curl of his lips. ”goodnight, honey,” he presses a kiss against your shoulder. warm, his breath on your skin. ”i love you.”
a yawn escapes your throat. ”love you too…” you mumble, sleepily. that one soft truth, before your consciousness fades.
and satoru’s smile only grows. hopelessly, inevitably, in the same way his hands can’t help but to bring you closer. until your heart is flush against his own, and he swears he can feel your heartbeats synchronize.
finally, with those three little words, satoru should be able to go to sleep. drifting off, he can only hope you’ll still be in his arms by the time he awakens.
(then again; you always are, aren’t you?)
922 notes · View notes
planetnini · 1 month
Text
IM GOING YO THROW IPPPPPP
☆. contains: suguru geto x gn!reader; a meet-cute in the park, fluff, trigger warning for a sweaty suguru, double warning for a very flirty suguru!! mentions of teeth and biting bc yk i love that shit wc: ~ 4k
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reading in the park can be such a good way to spend the day – you get to hear the lovely little birds sing to each other, you can see the kids faceplant onto the ground and laugh it off, you can smile at passing dogs, you can feel the sun and you can feel the wind and for just a while – everything is good.
it's more windy today than it is sunny but that doesn't bother you too much. the gentle spring wind dances in the trees, swaying the tiny green leaves that are just beginning to grow. the ground is still wet from yesterday's rain but it's not too muddy. you're grateful for the shower anyway, excited for the fresh grass to rise from the soil, pretty flowers alongside it. everything smells good, too. the air is crisp and filled with new beginnings and laughter and now you feel yourself getting a little too poetic.
looking down at your book, you twirl your pen between your fingers as you try to bring your focus back to the words on the pages. okay, reading in the park can be a little distracting sometimes. but most of the time it's not that bad—
you raise your head from your lap when you hear the steady steps and it's weird because you've learned to not give your attention to every passerby.
but this isn't just some passerby. the soles of his feet dig into the ground as he approaches and something about him just pulls you to him. you only have a second to look at him before he passes but it's enough to peak your interest like nothing else.
a pair of dark grey shorts with some black underpants underneath them, a pair of surprisingly clean sneakers on his feet, a pair of black socks, a dark blue almost skin-tight jacket and a black cap are what pull on your ropes but the messy black bun that peeks from under the cap, the various piercings and the dark purple eyes are what tie the knot.
his phone is in a little make-shift bag that surrounds his very big and glorious bicep and he has earphones on. you've never been this observant with a stranger before.
right when he passes by you, his eyes flick down to yours for a fraction of a second and then he's already gone. steady pace and steady steps as he heads down the path in the park, leaving you longing behind him.
you shake your head and once again, try to focus back on your reading. but it's even harder now that you know a man like that is just jogging around the place. you eye him from a distance away, wiping his sweat as he passes another runner. you've never seen anyone run as gracefully as he does. you force your eyes from him and glue them to the pages that lay neglected in your lap.
around eleven minutes later, you hear him again. you just know it's him by the sound of his steps, by the sound of his shoes hitting the ground – you look up and find him already looking at you as he closes in on you. there's a slight flush to his face, beads of sweat rolling from his temple and he looks gorgeous. he gives you a small smile, a really fucking charming one, and jogs on, leaving you staring at him again.
he does glance back at you, though. when he's a minute away and just when the path turns back around, his eyes search for you over the field of trees. his lips pull into a smirk when your head raises toward him and you drop it the second your eyes meet from far away. cute.
another ten minutes have passed and you've reread the same page four times now. the thought of quitting on the book is heavy on your mind as you consider just focusing on the man instead. it feels silly – stealing glances at a random crush at a park but you can't help it. he has wooed you with just about nothing; you don't know nothing about him other than the facts that 1. he's ridiculously good-looking and 2. he's a really fucking good runner. the lap he seems to be doing is one of the biggest ones in the park and yet he seems to be completing it in record time. maybe it's those long legs of his?
you twist and twirl the pen again until it slips from you, rolling onto the ground. you curse under your breath and then you hear him again. scrambling from your spot, you hastily grab the pen – a little afraid to be in his way; scared to embarrass yourself in front of him.
he's a bit more flushed this time around, sweatier and sexier. he exudes confidence; like not the type to be an annoying fuck-boy but more of a dangerous one. the type to break your heart like it's nothing but a glass toy. but then he gives you another smile and the thoughts fades. his smile is soft and his eyes crinkle as he does so. he nods his head at you and you do it back – you reckon you're really getting somewhere here. is this flirting works?
you watch him run off and almost die when he glances over his shoulder to get another look at you. a blink and you would've missed it – a wolfish grin; wide and sharp, it merely flashes at you but when you squint your eyes to observe him closer, he's already too far again.
your heart is beating way too fast for a person that's literally sitting down and your hands feel clammy. damn. luckily, you have the wind to help you cool down as you try to think of a plan to get his attention. you'd offer him water but that's a bit too far from a complete stranger. you'd ask him— what would you ask him? how's the run? no, that's bad. how's the weather? horrible. what kind of music are you listening to? c'mon, you can do better than that. come here often? awful, just awful. you decide that you won't say anything – stopping his run for some small talk would just be awkward and you'd rather just keep looking at him. that's the safe bet, that's what you'll do.
he's back. he's on his fourth lap and he doesn't seem to be stopping any time soon. all self-respect has gone with the dancing wind as you blankly stare at the handsome stranger. the tips of his ears have grown red too and he's really panting now. he's just so— he slows down. his steps falter a few feet from you and your eyes widen. well, you didn't really consider the possibility of him starting the conversation. you check the name of your book to make sure you won't make a complete fool of yourself and repeat your own name in your head. there's no room to fuck up with a guy like him.
he glances down at his feet and your eyes follow. oh... his laces are undone. that's... disappointing. you're about to curse yourself for even thinking that he'd actually wanna talk to you but his silky smooth voice breaks your little bubble.
"may i?" his slender finger is pointing the bench your sitting on and you can't to open your mouth, humming an reply instead. his posture is extraordinaly as he walks to you and plops down a bit too close for a stranger (you most definitely do not mind).
it's quiet for a moment before he speaks up again. "what are you reading?"
you quietly thank yourself for checking the name and introduce it to the man beside you. even as he's tying his shoelaces, he has a strong presence. he keeps glancing at you from the corner of his eye, letting you know that he is in fact listening to you. when he's done he leans back against the bench and sprawls out his arms on the backrest; one of his is dangerously close to your shoulder but he'd never make that move this early. he just wants to make clear that he is as interested as you are. he lets his legs spread out a little wider, situating himself a bit more comfortably on the wooden bench and you stealthily pinch yourself for stealing a look at his strong thighs.
"you know, i thought about what to say but i couldn't come up with anything good... 'how's the run?' is pretty stupid, isn't it?" you ramble as you feel yourself melt under his gaze.
"you thought about what to say?"
...
"i– "
your head falls down to your chest as your whole body heats up – now you're actually afraid of melting away. you hide your burning face in your palms and you sigh. so much for not embarrasing yourself, huh? he in turn, lets his head fall back as he grins up at the sky. his lip piercing shines under the greyish light and his eyes fall shut as he basks in your flustered state.
when he feels like your cuteness meter is just about full - he lets you off the hook. "that's really sweet of you."
peeking from between your fingers, you look at him. his eyes peer from underneath his cap, and in a way, it's really adorable how you're both hiding your eyes from each other. maybe not even hiding, but just, sheltering them. gauging when to finally drop the act and let yourselves stare at each other freely just the way you actually want to.
"not totally embarrassing?" you joke, forcing down the nervousness and letting a smile sprout on your lips instead.
"not at all." he assures with his saccharine voice. you almost believe him.
"it's never a bad thing to be prepared." you've known him for mere minutes but you know he's teasing. the tease is smoothly hidden in his charismatic tone but it's there nonetheless. a bead of sweat rolls from his temple and he wipes it with the back of his hand.
you bite the inside of your cheek as you drop your hands but avert your gaze, turning to the trees for a boost of strength.
he'd never admit it but... he too had to think of a way. he too thought that it'd be too weird to just ask about your book – he had to think of a way to break the first barrier. so, he untied his laced before he reached you. but that's a secret.
"suguru."
you whip your head your back to him, surprised by his little introduction. you repeat his name out loud and it tastes like honey, the syllables falling from your lips like a sweet goo. he does the same with yours and you swear you've never heard anyone say it the way he just did. there's a purr to his voice, coming from deep inside his chest - each letter is given so much thought and care. accompanied by the determined look in his eyes – you're just grateful you're already sitting down; he has your knees feeling weak, the muscles in your body tensing as he shifts just a little closer. barely an inch but it's enough to speed up your heart even more, enough for your body temperature to be reaching a new high.
his hand reaches over and you follow it in slow motion; you can hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears as his fingertips graze your cheek. heat blooms from the touch and you feel like you're about to burst into a thousand little butterflies.
"you got a little something here..."
he takes notice of the warmth even though the contact lasted a fraction of a second – he's as observant as ever. his foxy eyes twinkle with a dose of smugness, a certain heat running through his body at the effects he seems to have on you.
pulling his hand back, he displays the single eyelash he just caught on his pointer finger right in front of your face. "c'mon, make a wish."
he watches your eyes flick from his finger to his eyes and then back down, he watches your brain work out your silly little wish. he thinks about what his would be and wonders whether you'd want the same.
you inhale sharply before blowing on his finger, letting the eyelash take flight and disappear with the wind. smiles bloom on your faces – the childish act bonding the two strangers forever.
"the run was good, by the way." he rests his hand back behind your shoulders, making you subconsciously lean closer. "the weather is good; i like this better. hard to focus when the sun is bearing down on you."
you nod your head, utterly bewitched by the man before you, and he knows it too. "'though it's hard to focus when i have you sitting here, too."
he has you hooked and he won't let you go. your eyes widen as his bore into you, absolutely feeding off of your every reaction.
"oh, you're killing me..."
"am i? i'm sorry for that, sweetheart."
you can't keep the groan that bubbles from the depths of your throat as you double over, hiding your face in your hands again. his quiet laughter rumbles through his chest and when you swear that when you raise your head, a singular sunray shines from behind the clouds. it lights up his smile, his eyes crinkling in the process. wow.
"when are you gonna come here again?"
there's no time to waste – you have to shoot your shot. you have to.
he lets the laughter die slowly, impressed by your sudden burst of confidence. "tomorrow."
"you run every day?" his ego grows in size at the surpised tone and he nods. "wait, how come i've never seen you before then?"
"maybe you were actually reading your book all those other times, hm?"
your heart does a little flip in your chest and you bite down into the soft flesh of your lip. he's sooooooooo...
he adjusts his hips on the bench and catches you looking. he's tempted to make another tease but—
"i would've definitely seen you if you were here. you're kind of hard to miss. very hard to miss actually."
he hides his reaction with a deep hum, infatuated with the fact that you can keep up with him so well despite your flustered state. "i just recently moved here, so... it'd actually be very nice to have somebody to show me around. the coffee would obviously be my treat, you know, if you're down for it, if you want to be that person for me."
his offer almost flies over your foggy head but his last words sink their claws into you at the last minute. the butterflies in your stomach are making you feel sick, a giddy nervousness swimming in your veins.
"i'd love to be that person for you." you nod your head, gluing your eyes to his as the final push to show you that you're as interested as he is. as if that wasn't clear enough already. "mainly for the the free coffee, though."
"right... right..." one of the corners of his lips is crooked upward and he looks so good. he looks like he bites, like he would sink his teeth into you so, oh, so gently and then lick the wound to make you all better again. you're really in it now.
unbeknownst to you – the sky has turned a shade darker, grey clouds now swarming the entirety of the field of blue above you and suddenly you feel a cold drop on your warm skin. and then another. and another. craning your neck up, you take in the foggy ceiling as the rain starts to soak your clothes.
you scramble to pack your bag, throwing your precious book in there before frantically looking for your pen only to have suguru hand it to you with a smile. "here."
"thank you."
you don't want to go. he doesn't want to go. the strap of your bag sits on your shoulder, the soles of your feet dig into the ground but nothing. you chew on your cheek and he picks at his fingernails – neither of you ready to part with each other just yet.
but thunder booms, yanking yourselves out of it. reminding that this chapter is only beginning and that the first page is always the shortest one anyway.
"you're gonna get a cold like this..."
"like what?" the water droplets cascade down his neck as he leans closer.
"oh, i don't know... sweaty and hot? what if the wind and the rain get to you and i don't get to have my free coffee, hm?"
he does want to bite you. his canines bite into his bottom lip as he observes you. how you're completely unfazed by the rain, how your confidence is clearly growing as you tempt him with your words.
"the wind and the rain have nothing on me, angel. i'd kill to get you that coffee." lightning strikes as his words fall from his tainted lips and he can't tear his eyes from you.
finally, he pushes himself off the bench and you watch him stretch his whole body like a big cat. an inch of skin shows itself from below his jacket, his happy trail making your eyes bulge before you clear your throat with a quiet cough and push yourself up aswell. making sure you have everything, you check your bag and your pockets and turn to him, only to find him already staring down at you. he's tall. he looked tall before too... but now that you're standing next to him – he's really fucking tall. and he seems to be thinking the same thing as he takes the oppurtunity to assert a little dominance by closing the distance between you.
"and maybe the rain will do you some good too... maybe it'll help you cool off, yeah?" there it is again – hidden by a tone of genuine advice – the tease. it slips from his curved lips with ease, with too much ease, and you hate that you can't even argue with him. you burn under his eyes and the rain is seemingly the only thing that's keeping you alive at this point.
"i think you should buy me so many coffees." you sigh, clutching onto your bag strap. he's towering over you, so you need just about anything and everything to keep your composure.
"yeah? what for?" he laughs. god, you love his laugh.
"for putting up with your teasing. i think i deserve a reward, honestly."
it looks like a scene out of a romantic little movie – the two lovers standing in the storm; fingers twitching beside their bodies, gazes lingering on each other for longer than they should. nobody would guess that this is your first meeting.
"terrible manners, by the way. i can't believe i'm still talking to you." you give him another sigh, albeit an overly dramatic one this time.
suguru hasn't been this beguiled since... ever probably. yes, his friends tend to give him snarky comments like this but it's entirely different coming from you. it gets his heart pumping like nothing else – the rush from the run has nothing on you.
"oh, my deepest apologies, your highness. shall i kiss thy hand before we part?"
his little bit coaxes out a loud cackle – his chest swells at the sweet melody, getting addicted already.
"yes! yes, i think you should do that, kind sir." your cheeks hurt from smiling when you hold your hand out for him, testing whether he'd actually do it.
(he's forcing down a full-body reaction at you calling him sir.)
suguru is not a man to back down and you're about to learn all about it. the thunder rumbles loudly, echoing through the park he takes your smaller hand into his bigger ones, raising it to his mouth. his purple eyes twinkle at you and your breaths are getting shorter and shorter. his lips graze your wet skin before he's fully pressing them against you, all while keeping eye contact with you.
a shiver runs up your back and you're about to pass out. or throw up. or die. something is happening to you and he's the sole reason behind it.
he lowers your hand and offers you another dangerous grin; his sharp teeth glint from behind his pretty lips as the lighting flashes again and you gulp.
"don't die on me now."
...
your jaw drops and you place your hands on your hips, tilting your chin up to show your 'annoyance'. "exactly what was the point of the kiss, if you plan on continuing your little act, hm, suguru?"
"the point is to get to kiss you again."
..................................
oh.
this stranger will be the death of you. your whole body flushes again, your own built up cockiness fades away, leaving you small and shivering before him. the perfect prey ready for picking.
"not today though. can't have the highness grow too big, now can i? but perhaps next time? over that promised coffee?" his voice is sticky and sweet, meant as a trap to catch little doves like you.
you squeak out a mhmm as he's already getting his phone from his little bag.
by now, you're both absolutely soaked. the spring thunder cleans you from the groggy winter feelings and thoughts and gives life to... whatever this is going to bloom into.
you exchange your socials, giggling at how the screens refuse to cooperate under the rain but you get it done nonetheless.
"please, don't get sick."
"if i do, you'd nurse me back to health though, wouldn't you?"
you slap his chest, unable to bear the teasing little remarks any longer. his charisma knows no bounds and it's 100% not what you expected him to be like. maybe you should've – the eyes betray him.
"probably, yeah. nurse you from this horrendeous act. where are you learning it from anyway? some terrible love coach?" you scoff.
"something like that yeah." he trails off, once again hypnotized by the way your wet eyelashes shine when you blink up at him.
"okay-okay, we have to stop this now or we'll both get sick." you shake your head, physically trying to remove every thought of him that has been swimming in your head for the past hour or so. he hums as a reply. he fixes the cap on his head and awaits for you to make the first move.
it's taking everything in you to do so – it's almost as if you're glued there, right in front of him and it just feels right. his voice is right, his words are right, his eyes are right, his lips, his teases; but when the thunder booms again, you know it in your guts that he's gonna be in your life for a long time.
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this kind of turned into smth way different than i intended but i'm not mad hihihi
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planetnini · 1 month
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if he’s not like this then idk man
small amnesia drabble ft osamu based on this 9yr old video that still makes me giggle. cw: little violence mention but that’s it.
The hell’s that beeping coming from…
There’s a noticeable restriction in his movement when he slowly begins to stir, lethargy sitting heavy on his limbs as his eyelids pull with visible tension.
Osamu immediately winces. “…Fuckin’ bright…”
Someone gasps at the foot of his bed.
It’s an effort to crane his neck and peek over the footing of his bed, more of an uncomfortable strain than the headache he should expect but what he finds there might just be worth it.
There’s… a cottony to the woman standing before his bed unreserved for anybody else in that typical stark hospital lighting. A fuzzy glow, unburdened by the mussed hairs that stick out of your done up hair or that blue tinge of worry that melts into relief the moment you realize he’s returning eye contact. There’s a few vending machine snacks in your hand that he watches you discard as you step closer to him, and he’s not too shy to blatantly ogle as you take a comfortable seat at his bedside.
That beeping’s gotten a little faster. “You’re up. How do you feel?”
“Dunno…” Though charmed would’a been his second answer.
“Dunno’ s a good answer.” You reply. “Better than what the other guy’s probably saying.”
“The other guy?” There’s not a lot he remembers aside the basic stuff, and you’re definitely not one of ‘em.
“The blow job that tried to hold up your shop last night. Came in swinging this big ass metal bat like you wouldn’t knock his lights out a moment later.” Your smile sparkles as you hum fondly. “Although he did knick you a few times before you could actually get at him.”
Which would explain the thick casting on his arm and the way your fingers softly graze the wrapped gauze on the side of his face. Which in turn makes him blush a little like an overgrown schoolboy.
Although the way your thumb starts to rub circles in his cheek has him breaking out in a sweat. “You saved a lot of people, ‘Samu, me including,” You coo. “But more than anything I’m just glad you’re okay.”
‘S-Samu…?
Your eyes quickly flicker to the quickening heart monitor.
Though when you glance down his face is neutral as ever. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah, just…” Osamu swallows. “Just havin’ a hard time connectin’ the dots.”
“Hm? Oh, has the anesthesia not worn off completely yet?”
“Don’t seem like it.”
You nod a little understandingly, straightening your back until you’re fastening your hand in his. “Hmm, that makes sense. I mean, I can’t imagine what they’re pumping you up with after a broken elbow and a few fractured knuckles. - For your sake, they don’t stop too soon,”
Osamu watches you pull his good arm into your lap and hold it there like it belongs to you, and he’s definitely not gonna tell you otherwise. “Although, the quicker we get home the better. At the very least, for some proper rest-“
“Home?”
You tilt your head a bit. “Yeah home? You know, our cozy little shoebox apartment? The one your brother’s definitely not raiding for snacks while you’re gone?”
“Wait, are - we’re…?”
“Baby?”
“Baby.” Ohhkay,” Osamu blows out a disbelieving breath. “Oh, wow. I’m definitely missin’ some important information.”
You furrow as he tilts his head to scan you over a little more. “I hope I’m not misreadin’ this. An’ I hope to god I’m not. - But are we…?”
“Do you not… remember me?”
“I’m pretty beat up about it too, angel.”
“Oh.” You glance at the I.V. still hooked in his wrist. “Yeeaah, that anesthesia has not worn off yet.”
“I’m not misreadin this, right?”
“No. No, you’re not, honey. You’re not.”
“Aye so,” He lifts himself more properly on the hospital bed. “What… the hell does a scrub like me gotta pull off to bag a dime like you, angel? Askin’ that honestly.”
And it looks like an effort not to full out laugh at the genuine confusion on his face. “Straight to the point, huh?”
“I mean, when a guy wakes up to a girlfriend like-“
“Wife.”
“Wi-“ The way he all but gasps to himself has you full out giggling before you can stop yourself. “Yer lyin! Ma wife?!”
The little (see: not little) rock you wave on your ring finger is enough to turn him all but blue, especially when you reach forward to gingerly unveil the matching wedding band hanging from a chain under his hospital gown. “Your wife, baby. Made me a Miya not even a year ago.”
Osamu quietly repeats the admission under his breath as he takes a moment to digest that.
And then he’s turning to you fast enough to break the sound barrier. “Can I kiss ya’?”
You chortle as you lean in, gentle mint pervading his nose. “You’ve been kissing me, baby.”
Osamu’s putty when your lips meet.
Yeah, there’s no way he didn’t die and go to heaven.
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reblog for a warm bowl of soup 🍲
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1K notes · View notes
planetnini · 2 months
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this was sheet gripping writing wtff
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☾ .⭒˚ what's mine ♡ zayne x afab reader
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⋆.˚ ☾ pairing: zayne x afab!reader (very fem!reader)
☾ .⭒˚ genre: smut, pwp, not canon events (completely fictional)
⋆.˚ ☾ word count: 10.7k
☾ .⭒˚ content warning: mdni, first time sex with zayne (not virginity loss), jealous!zayne, dom!zayne, zayne slightly loses control of evol, furniture breaks, lot’s of teasing, fictional characters, size kink, vaginal sex, oral sex f!receiving, tongue fucking, fingering, unprotected sex, creampies, slightly drunk sex (not really), tummy bulge, posessive/claiming behavior, let me know if i missed anything!
⋆.˚ ☾ a/n: helloooo writing for my fav zayne again <3 would you guys believe this is actually the first lads fic i ever started but i put it on hold because it was way too elaborate and i didn’t want to make a whole like multi chapter fic? i actually cut out a lotttt of it, it probably would’ve been more like 30k words if i kept the same writing style/detail i had originally, and i just could not do that to myself
also the matthew/intern mentioned in the fic is completely made up and fictional, he is not a reference to any characters! i couldn’t bring myself to use greyson for the purposes of the plot bc i think he and zayne are so cute LOL god i love the jealous angsty feelings trope 
pls enjoy hehe i luv u guys <3 also come interact with me on twit @/aeyumicore :’)
⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚
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“will you go to dinner with me?”
you whip your head around to see where the unfamiliar voice came from, coming face to face with one of the surgical interns of the akso hospital. you’d run into him several times before when visiting zayne at work, but never quite got his name.
“me?” 
the intern chuckles at your dumbfoundedness, which he thinks is adorable, “yes, you’re y/n right? my name is matthew. i'm one of the surgical interns here. so, will you let me take you to dinner tomorrow?”
zayne chokes on his rice from the seat beside you, patting his chest a few times to clear his throat. you’d decided to have lunch with zayne after your check-up today; well more like you’d forced him to the cafeteria with you against his will. you’d desperately wanted to try the infamous mint chocolate chip jello the hospital cafeteria served, even though you knew it’d be disgusting. and so you both sat at a table in the cafeteria, you with your jello and zayne with a homemade bento box you’d made for him, along with some of his favorite pastries from the bakery down the street.
at his coughs, the intern’s eyes snapped to zayne’s and it was like he’d just then realized zayne was there, the surprise and anxiety written all over his expression. zayne was always someone who commanded respect and fear from his colleagues and subordinates, so much so that matthew had turned pale as a ghost. 
“oh! dr. zayne, i’m so sorry i didn’t realize–” but zayne cuts him off with a simple wave of his hand. 
“it’s fine. continue your conversation.” you’re a bit taken back by zayne’s nonchalance. sure, you were just childhood friends but it would be nice if zayne had any reaction at all to being asked out right in front of him. you yourself couldn’t deny the attraction you felt towards zayne but it was seeming more and more that it was completely one sided.
“i, um…” you’re at a loss for words, not knowing how to let the handsome intern down. matthew was honestly very attractive, and seemed kind enough, but you had hoped to spend your friday night with zayne, though you hadn’t had the chance to ask him yet. he’d been swamped with surgeries and patients the last few days and you hardly got to see him at all. and you missed him thoroughly.
“i actually had plans with zay– i mean dr. zayne,” you glance at zayne, hoping he’ll get the message, but the expression on his face is dark and unreadable. 
“no we don’t. you should go,” zayne’s tone is cold and his eyes refuse to meet yours. despite yourself, your heart clenches in disappointment. you know zayne could be obtuse but he was also extremely intelligent and perceptive. he undoubtedly knew you wanted to spend your night with him. but it was becoming more and more apparent he did not want to spend his with you.
“but i–”
“i have plans anyways.” your eyes can’t help but sting as he avoids looking at you. so you try to steel yourself; you were a big girl and a little bit of unrequited affection would not destroy you. keeping your voice steady and blinking back unshed tears of frustration, you look up at matthew, his eyes lighting up at you expectantly, and you try to give him your best smile.
“i…i would love to go to dinner with you!”
you don’t notice the deep scowl on zayne’s face as a dark icy storm brews in his green eyes. 
you stumbled out of the taxi, your way-too-high heels catching on the foot step almost causing you to trip headfirst into the pavement. you sigh as you catch yourself on the cab door and glance at your hunter watch and see that it’s already 1am. 
“get home safe miss, and no more drinks, you hear me?” your cab driver reprimands you teasingly.
“yes sir,” you mock salute him as you wobble onto your feet, thoroughly drunk, “thank you so much! please drive safe. good night sir!”
“good night miss!” 
you turn towards your apartment building, sighing in exhausted defeat. what an absolute disaster of a night.
the date was unexpectedly wonderful. matthew was handsome, kind, funny, and a complete gentleman. he brought you to a very fancy and expensive restaurant downtown, so you wore one of your most elegant dresses, not that you had many. it was a simple satin black mid-length evening dress, with a slit that exposed just up to your mid thigh and an open back that accentuates your figure. you’d normally never wear something so sensual on a first date, but you couldn’t deny that the way zayne had reacted, or not reacted, stung your heart. so maybe you did go a little extra tonight because you were hurt. so what?
after dinner, matthew and you took a leisurely stroll at linkon park, with enough time to catch the sunset. as you watched the sun melt into the sea of golden yellows and dusky pinks, matthew kissed you. it was passionate, slow, and soft. the perfect kiss.
except when you moaned out zayne’s name. 
and so the night ended as quickly as it began. matthew was as understanding as he possibly could have been, but you could tell it killed anything that could have happened between the two of you. matthew was a surgical intern, so with what little free time he had, he said he couldn’t chance it on a girl who was clearly already in love with someone else, especially if that someone was his boss and mentor. he’d offered to give you a ride back home but you refused, saying you’d grab a cab instead.  
so you found yourself at a bar, downing shots of soju to numb the mortification of your blunder but also the feeling of utter patheticness. hours went by as you wallowed in your emotions. you’d had feelings for zayne for as long as you could even remember. and still, you couldn’t tell him or move on from him. 
but maybe you would have the guts to tell him if it didn’t feel like he literally could not give two cents about you, beyond as a patient and as his annoying childhood friend. it was literally like pulling teeth to get him to spend any time at all with you lately. 
so here you were, stumbling into your apartment building at 1:37 am: drunk, exhausted, and empty. the night breeze raised goosebumps on your exposed thighs as your heels clicked on the pavement in the dark. 
you headed toward your apartment, through the main entrance and up the lobby elevator, the alcohol still making your brain swim. luckily you no longer saw double, and your eyelids no longer felt like a ton of bricks.  
the elevator door dinged open and you trudged toward your unit, your toes screaming in protest in the confine of your heels. you forced your vision to cooperate with you as you tried to punch in your door code. the error buzz sounded out, again and again, and you groaned in frustration.
in the blurry edges of your vision, a large and slightly scarred hand reached over yours. yelping, you whip yourself around and reach to grab the gun you always had strapped to your thigh. but from the icy cold touch against your fingers and the scars littering the pink skin, you realize exactly who it was.
“zayne?” you did your best not to slur, trapped between him and your front door. you don’t miss how he swears under his breath as his eyes trail down your body, lingering at all your exposed skin, before snapping back up to your face. you can’t even imagine how wrecked you must look right now, mentally kicking yourself for not touching up after the bar. your gloss was undoubtedly smeared from the kiss and the copious alcohol, your hair a bird’s nest from the night breeze, and your mascara smeared from the stray tears of your drunken emotions.
you didn’t do a very good job at steeling your voice because zayne saw right through you, his eyes narrowing as they absolutely drank you in, “you’re drunk?” his voice holds a dangerous edge, as if mad that you’d have the audacity to be drunk. he deftly types your access code in, and gently ushers you into your apartment. you stumble in your heels against his body, and zayne wraps his arm around your waist to catch you before you fall. you flush at the way his hands palm the exposed skin of your lower back. 
“m’not drunk,” you protest, swatting his hand away, not wanting your body to give any of your feelings towards him away, but zayne only grips you tighter, fingers flitting between the soft satin material of your dress and the goosebump ridden skin of your back. his arm on your waist feels so right, threatening to make you melt right into his embrace. but you fight the urge, trying to hold onto your annoyance.
you can’t see his eyes but you know they’re rolling in their sockets at your obvious drunkeness. he gently guides you through the threshold of your home and then kneels down before you. the sight of him on the floor in front of your feet makes you reel, hoping the furious blush is masked by the flush of alcohol in your blood.
“w-what are you doing?” you try to step back, but your knees wobble and zayne grips your thigh in place. you shiver at his cold touch on your sensitive skin, a little too high for you to keep any semblance of calm.
“do you want to stay in these deathtraps?” he murmurs as he starts to slip the strappy heels off of your aching feet. his fingers around your ankle tingle as he softly massages the red skin of where the straps dug in.
“zayne? why are you here? did something happen?” your voice wavers still, but zayne’s cold touch is starting to sober you up and clear your vision as your mind tries its best to focus on him. zayne doesn’t respond as he lifts your other foot and slips the other heel off. his fingers linger on your bare legs before he slips your house slippers on your feet, standing back up to tower over you. 
“it’s almost 2 in the morning, and you’re just now coming home,” his voice is hard and stern, it’s clear he has things he wants to say but you’re in no mood for a lecture on sexual safety, stds, and stranger danger. 
“i was busy,” you snap, your emotions running extra high from everything that had happened today, especially zayne’s nonchalance. but he’s incredibly patient with you, as he always is, taking you by the waist nagain and leading you to your living room couch. you’re too tired to resist, and you desperately need to get off your aching feet.
“how was your date?” zayne sits you on your couch and then heads to the kitchen, coming back with a glass of water. his question reminds you of how royally you screwed up today and your mood sours even more. 
“fine,” you mutter, trying to keep from snapping at him again. zayne sits beside you and brings the glass of water to your lips, tilting it for you with his fingers on your jaw. you take deep gulps, the cold water soothing your entire sore body. sinking further into the couch, your mind wanders back to your disastrous screw up. you’d called matthew zayne. it literally couldn’t get more mortifying than that.
zayne stares at you and you know he doesn’t believe you, so you murmur again, “it was fine.” but as his intense eyes bore holes into you, your voice cracks under all the feelings you’d stuffed deep down today. 
he was here now and it confused you to no end. you’d wanted nothing more than to spend your day with him, but he’d pushed you away. were you really that blind that you’d developed feelings for a man who did not feel even slightly the same way? 
your eyes well up with tears at the thought and you try to subtly brush them away by pretending to scratch your cheek, but as always zayne sees right through you. 
“did he do something to you? did he get you drunk?” zayne’s voice is calm but hard and threatening.enough to scare you if it weren't for the way he softly gripped your chin, forcing your eyes back to his, using his free thumb to catch the tears before they can slip down your cheek
but through it all, you register the implication of his words. “wh-what? no!” you exclaim, “matthew was a complete gentleman.”
his eyes track yours, unwilling to let go of your gaze, “then why are you crying?” 
you blink back your tears before more can fall onto his thumb. your voice wavers as you stare into the hazel green ocean of his eyes, and you answer his question with a question of your own, “why are you here zayne?” 
“i wanted to make sure you got home safe.” your chest constricts with unrelenting emotions, but your drunken haze makes you even more steadfast in your stubborn resolve. 
“well i’m home, safe,” you avert your eyes, knowing if zayne keeps staring at you with that intensity you’ll start to unravel and confess everything.
“why did you take a cab home?”
your eyes snap to his, “how did you know i took a cab?” and this time zayne’s eyes refuse to meet yours, “zayne? how long have you been waiting for me?”
zayne doesn’t respond, instead brushing the tangles out of your hair. you try to get his attention by tugging at his tie, the alcohol making you feel much bolder than you normally ever would. 
you can see his adam's apple bob as he lets himself be drawn in, only slightly, towards you. at your pout, he sighs in defeat, prying your hands away so he can loosen the tightened hold around his neck, “i’ve been waiting for you…forever.” 
before you can respond, he clears his throat and continues, “i got here at 9 and waited in my car when i knocked and you didn't answer.”
at your bewildered expression, he sighs and elaborates, “i just wanted to see you get back home safely. but when i saw you get out of that cab i needed to come check on you.”
your brows furrowed as your sobering self tried to do the math in your head. zayne can practically see the steam coming out of your ears and smiles lopsidedly, chuckling under his breath at how adorable you were being.
“you waited for 7 hours?!” you exclaimed, eyes wide. 
his grin deepens and you can see his eyes sparkling with laughter , “you are drunk. why are you drunk?”
you purse your lips shut, unwilling to speak. with all the overwhelming emotions swarming your mind, you knew if you started talking now you would surely never stop.
at your silence, zayne prods gently, “talk to me, y/n.” his voice is deep and commanding in a way that almost always gets you to listen to him. 
you zip your lips shut and turn away, doing your damn best to not give in. but zayne’s touch, still on your cheeks, forces you back towards his eyes.
“be a good girl,” he demands softly, his eyes searching yours for answers. 
blowing out your cheeks like a child, you’re unwilling to give up the attitude, “i’m drunk because i was drinking.”
“did matthew take advantage of you?” zayne’s jaw is locked and the intensity in his eyes is blinding, damn near dangerous. 
“no! zayne, no. i went to a bar to drink alone, after our date,” you try to hide the embarrassment from seeping into your voice.
“why? did he do something to you?” his voice is still threatening, and you sigh at the unrelenting questions. you knew zayne well enough to know he wasn’t going to let up, so it would just be easier on you if you told him everything that happened.
“matthew was amazing,” you don’t notice the way zayne’s eyes darken at your praises for the intern, “the date was fantastic. and after, we saw the sunset.” his expression is still unreadable and you start to fidget under his intense gaze, not knowing in the slightest what he was thinking. 
“and then he kissed me. we kissed. and that was it. i went to the bar and he went home. end of story.” 
zayne’s fists ball so tightly his knuckles turn white, but he keeps his gaze steady. he doesn’t speak, and you’re scared of the tense silence that falls between you two.
“he couldn’t at least accompany you? make sure you were safe?” you can tell zayne is angry by the way his feet taps uncharacteristically erratically against the floor, “driven you home?”
his questions make it impossible for you to forget about your horrifying mistake today and you just feel so incredibly bad for matthew. the regret and embarrassment gnaw at your mind like parasites. and so against your better, albeit slightly still drunken, judgment, you finally blow.
“he left because i was thinking of you, okay? matthew was a gentleman, he was funny, kind, and charming. and yet i was thinking of you the whole time. and so he left and i went to a bar and got drunk all on my own, okay?”
“you were thinking of me?” zayne’s voice is an annoying mix of bewilderment, intrigue, and what sounds like mockery, which just infuriates you.
“i am always thinking of you zayne! i thought about you at dinner, i thought about you when we watched the sunset, and i thought about you when he kissed me,” you burst, your drunken lack of inhibitions leaving nothing unsaid. 
zayne’s face is unreadable again, but there’s a heat in his eyes that makes you tremble in your seat, “you were thinking of me when he kissed you?”
unable to bear his unrelenting repetitive questions anymore, you explode, “yes zayne! and when he kissed me i called out for you!” the confession tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think twice about it. it takes you a second to realize what you’d just blurted out and you bury your face in your hands, wanting nothing more than to scream at the top of your lungs. unfortunately it was 2am and you had neighbors that most definitely would not appreciate that. 
you feel his strong hands grab your wrists gently, prying your hands away from your face, wanting to see you, “you called for me?” his tone is as amused as it is intrigued and it frustrates you to no end, the shame weighing heavily on your mind. 
“don’t tease me right now zayne,“ you warn weakly, “i am always thinking about you. but you…” your voice trails off to a shallow whisper, “you don’t seem to think about me.”
zayne is silent but his eyes are as intense as you’ve ever seen them, staring into your soul. the silence is thick in the air as you refuse to be the one to break it.
finally, he speaks, voice clouded with indiscernible emotions, “is that what you really think? that i don’t think about you?”
“do you really think i waited for 5 hours, in my car, for you to come back because i don’t think about you?” your breath catches in your throat at the pure and raw growl in his voice. 
before you can respond, he continues, “i think about you every second of every day. i thought about you all day, thought about you on your date with matthew.”
zayne shifts so that he can cup your face with both his hands, drawing his face closer but not close enough, “i thought about him getting to hear your voice, getting to touch you…to kiss you. it drove me insane.” 
your feelings churn in your stomach and into your chest, making it hard to breathe. the way zayne is looking at you, his hands holding your face so possessively, threatens to stop your heart altogether. you’re drawn to him all over again, only this time it feels like he might be drawn to you too.
“w-why?”
zayne doesn’t speak, and you watch as his eyes flutter to your parted lips as you pant out your breaths, eyes fighting to stay open amidst all the tension enveloping the two of you. 
“why did you push me to go with him then?”
his eyes force themselves onto yours, as if unwilling to leave your lips, “i made a mistake.” 
his revelations quickly sober you up, and you’re left feeling vulnerable but bold. you softly grab a fist full of his tie, pulling him closer. you can faintly hear him groan under his breath, but he lets himself be guided towards you. your lips are so close to each other that you’re inhaling each other in, and you beg gently, “kiss me, zayne.” 
zayne wastes no time at all, threading his fingers from your cheek into your hair, pulling your face the remainder of the distance to his own. 
your first kiss with zayne is nothing like you’d daydreamed it would be. you’d imagined the patient and reserved surgeon to be soft, gentle, taking his time with you. you’d expected it to be passionate but reserved, like the handsome raven haired man himself. 
and while the passion was undeniably there, what you didn’t expect was the bruising claiming heat that came with it. zayne’s soft lips marked you as his own, a lifetime’s worth of emotions evident in the way he molded himself against you. with every twitch of his lips, zayne laid claim to what was his. he kissed you like you might disappear at any moment, as if this was all a dream.
and when his tongue swiped across the parting of your lips, asking for permission to enter, you gladly relented control and authority. after all, you were his. you think you had been for some time.  
you hadn’t expected your first kiss with zayne to be like this, and yet it was everything you wanted and more.
when you shift yourself to climb on top of him and straddle him on your couch, zayne reluctantly pulls away, hands still gripping the back of your head, “y/n, we should stop.” but he can’t stop his hands from leaving your soft hair and resting on your hips, almost like a reflex. his words say one thing but his hands just can't seem to pry themselves off of you.
you’re taken aback by his words, unable to stop the insecurity and hurt that paints your face. zayne notices instantly, one of his hands leaving your hips to stroke your cheek, hooking some of your hair behind your ear. you lean into his hand, the whiplash starting to exhaust you as much as it kept you on your toes. 
“i want to,” he whispers hoarsely as you squirm on top of him, answering your unsaid thoughts, “i can’t even convey how much i’ve fucking wanted to. but you’re drunk. and the first time i finally take you…i want you to feel every second of it.” 
your eyes flutter at his words, stomach clenching in anticipation. having fully sobered up a while ago, before he even kissed you, you can’t help but beg a little, “i’m not drunk anymore. and even if i was… i want you. i’ve wanted you…forever.” 
zayne swears, his eyes going full doctor mode, and you can tell he’s inspecting every inch of you to try and discern if you’re truly sober or not. you fidget nervously under his intense stare, to which his hands grip your waist painfully tight to keep you in place.
“stop,” he grits out forcefully, as if in pain. you do your best to still in his lap, and that’s when you feel the unmistakable bulge of his erection underneath your parted dress that had ridden up to bunch at your hips, right against the pantyhose against your cunt.
“are you sure this is what you want?” he groans as your body presses deeper into his lap, “because once…we start i won’t be able to stop.” 
his words send a shiver down your spine, the heated warning doing nothing but arousing you to your core. through your hooded eyes, you nod eagerly at him, “m’sure zayne. won’t want to stop.” 
he smirks at you, a heart stopping smile that melts your brain and cunt simultaneously into a leaking mess, “you asked for it love.” 
before you can even have the chance to physically combust at the affectionate pet name, zayne whisks you into the air, scooping you under your exposed knees effortlessly. you yelp, clutching onto his neck as he carries you like a bride into your bedroom, navigating your apartment like he owned it. he bent down to capture your lips with his again, like he couldn’t physically wait to get you to your bed before claiming you again. 
you feel the cold press of your sheets against your spine as zayne sets you down gently, and settles in between your thighs on top of you. his eyes absolutely devour you whole, raking up and down your exposed satin clad skin, “you look beautiful. i’ve been wanting to tell you all night.” his praise is throaty with desire and it makes you squeeze your thighs together against his body in anticipation. your face heats at his words, and you run your palms up and down his abdomen, the material of his dress shirt feeling like silk against your burning skin. 
zayne grins and chuckles, mostly to himself, but the sound catches your attention and you find yourself pouting in self-consciousness, “what’s funny?”
zayne’s long fingers trace the outlines of your body under the satin dress, eliciting soft moans from you that please him to his core, “you just look so beautiful.” his fingers reach the bottom of your dress and begin to stroke the fabric of your pantyhose, inching up under your dress, so torturously slowly, “you wore this for him, yet i’m the one that’s going to tear it off you.”
your body trembles at his words, the pool between your legs growing wetter. you can feel yourself growing impatient, only wanting his body to press onto yours, to suffocate your.
“zayne please, don’t make me wait any more,” you murmur as you sit up on your elbows, pressing your forehead against his. you heartbeat is quick and your rapid breaths fan across his face. 
his eyes darken at your pleas, the hazel hues appearing almost a light brown, “fucking hell y/n, you’re going to drive me insane.” he sits up on his knees, loosening his tie before undoing it completely and discarding it on the floor next to your bed. you bite your lip as you watch him undo the top three buttons of his shirt, his toned chest on display under it. 
leaning back down, he presses a bruising kiss against your swollen lips. his hands wander to the thin straps of your dress, gently tugging until they slip off your shoulders, letting him tug your dress down until your breasts are exposed. his tongue against yours is unrelenting, marking every inch of your mouth as his.
detaching himself from you, he buries his face into your neck, his cold lips incredibly soothing against your lust burned skin. you cry out when you feel his teeth softly sink into the skin of your pulsepoint, as he suckles on you like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. 
“zayne,” you gasp out, his tongue and teeth working in tandem to have your mind filled with nothing but his mouth on you, “please.”
he trails down your neck and collar, inhaling you into his lungs at every opportunity. you feel his smile against your skin as he reaches your breasts, your nipples pebbled from the lust. he voice is muffled against you, “please what, my love?”
“i…” you’re too mortified to say the things you want him to do, so the silence overtakes you. unhappy with your hesitation, zayne bites into the supple flesh above your pert nipple, eliciting a string of moans and squeals from you. he’s instantly using his tongue to soothe the pain away, quickly replacing it with waves of raw pleasure. 
zayne lifts his head, staring at you expectantly, “i can’t continue if you don’t tell me what you want.”
his unrelenting teasing drives you to the edge of madness, your arousal evident by the way it leaks through your panties and your pantyhose. but you’re stubborn, still refusing to speak. 
“good girls listen to their doctors don’t they?” he places fleeting kisses onto your goosebump riddled areolas, careful to purposefully neglect your increasingly sensitive nipples.
“should doctors really be this intimate with their patients?” you retort like a brat, wanting to dish back all of his incessant teasing.  
he smiles at you, thoroughly amused at your insolence, “i suppose not, but am i really just your doctor?” with that he captures your waiting nipples into his mouth. you cry out at the incredible feeling of his cold lips on your breasts but his warm tongue on your nipple, your lower body thrusting up uncontrollably into his crotch. 
he groans into your chest as you brush against his throbbing erection, restricted by the confines of his pants. against the heat of your womanhood, zayne hardens impossibly further, feeling like he might actually explode against the constraint. the sounds of your pleasure and your cries for him make it difficult for him to concentrate.
switching to your other nipple, zayne uses one hand to undo his belt, letting it fall to the ground with his tie. he undoes the button and zipper his pants, yanking them down with such feral urgency. when his cock was finally free, he broke away from your chest, hissing in relief. you look down and you’re met with the realization of why he was in so much pain. 
zayne was large. in a way that terrified you to your very core. you could imagine that the restraint of his briefs alone would be uncomfortable, painful even, when holding something like that back. 
zayne catches your stare and he grips your chin between his fingers, guiding you to his eyes instead, “it’ll fit baby, don’t worry.”
you fight to keep your lip from quivering, trying not to get lost in his green eyes, “will it?”
“i’ll make it fit, but first let me prepare you love,” he says matter-of-factly, pressing a kiss to the bridge of your nose. the certainty in his voice turns you unbelievably on and you find yourself needing to please him. your hand seeks out his erection, grasping it firmly into your fingers.
he groans at the slightest touch, knees buckling into the bed beneath you. you start with languid and deliberate strokes, feeling every vein pulse under your fingers. your thumb finds his large engorged head, already leaking with pre cum, feeling every smooth surface of his cock under your touch. while zayne writhes on top of you, you revel in his glorious manhood, everything about it utterly perfect and terrifying.
as you touch him, zayne leans into the crook of your shoulder, laying claim to your sensitive neck. he marks every inch of bare skin he can find, leaving a trail of red and wet bruises in his wake. 
your entire palm is wet with his leaking arousal, as he moans so closely into your ear. gently, he pries your palm away from him, sitting back up onto his knees, smirking satisfyingly down at the marks he’d left, “god, i’ve waited so long to have you.”
you reach down to shimmy out of your pantyhose and black evening dress, leaving you in your black lace thong, naked, willing, and pliant before him. you see him gulp harshly, his eyes hazy with need, and you sit up to level with him, “so take me zayne.”
a low growl rips from his throat, as he pushes you back onto the bed, setting your head against your wooden headboard. zayne tortures you, kissing down your collar, your chest, your naval, and finally down the soft mound of your pelvis. 
zayne seems almost feral as he looks at your lace covered cunt and back up at you, “did you really wear this for him?”
“n-no,” you whine, “i wouldn't have ever l-let him. he wasn't you.”
zayne seems somewhat placated by your response, hooking his cold fingers into the waistband, his voice a low grumble, “that’s my good girl. no one will ever see you in or out of these, but me. right?”
your brain fogs over as he slips your soaked panties down your legs, his breath hitching seeing the string of clear slick clinging to your cunt. 
“fuck.” he’s lost in his stares, in absolute awe of the meal before him, carving every single perfect centimeter into his memory. you squirm under his intense stare.
“zayne please don’t make me wait anymore,” you wine, crying out as he bends down and his lips graze the apex of your slit. 
his voice is incredibly smug, “you are so beautiful when you beg for me.” you sigh in frustration as his lips and fingers continue to just barely graze your needy body. 
“zayne, please,” your body thrusts into his, but he holds you back down, almost impatiently.
“behave yourself, y/n. you can do that for me, can’t you?” his voice is full of command, making you back down instantly, shivering at the suspense of his words.
“i didn't wait this long to have you just to rush all the things i want to do to you,” he all but purrs, as his lips find your soaking slit.
the room is filled with your lewd cries as zayne’s tongue licks a stripe from your clit to your throbbing hole. as your doctor, zayne knew the ins and outs of your body but you never expected him to know you like this. like his tongue was designed for nothing else but to deliver you the most unimaginable pleasure in this world. 
zayne groans when his tongue enters you for the first time, the quivers resonating straight to your core. his nose brushes against your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, the vibrations of his own lust filled grunts bringing you closer to releasing all over his skilled mouth.
your thighs clench against his face, and you almost worry you might suffocate him. you try to pry them away from him, but he only grips them with his strong hands, bringing them closer to his face, wanting nothing more than to be yours, wholly and irrevocably.
“you taste better than i ever imagined,” he moans out, staring into your eyes from between your legs. you blush at the filth of his words and the glistening slick smeared across his lips and chin.
“did you – ahh hah – think about me often?” you tease between the sounds that spill out of your mouth uncontrollably.
he doesn’t answer, instead capturing your entire clit into his lips, sucking in earnest. you feel his smirk as you squeal out, hands digging into the fabric of your sheets and tugging hard. his hands knead your ass as he continues to eat, positively starved.
“z-zayne i-i can’t take much more,” you slur, your toes curling against his sides as he goes back to spearing his tongue in and out of you, using the tip of his nose to massage your clit, inhaling the smell of your arousal into his lungs.
“yeah? is my girl gonna make a mess for me?” he breathes into you, his hands reaching up to toy with your nipples. you cry in response, feeling the coil in your gut tightening beyond belief, the pleasure threatening to make you explode.
“cum into my mouth love, let me taste you,” he whispers breathlessly into your cunt, slipping his middle finger inside of you, the wet sounds of his skin pounding into yours filling the room. you come done instantly, screaming as your back arches off the bed and you release all over zayne’s waiting mouth, hands ripping at his soft hair. 
“that’s it baby, look at you cumming from just one finger,” he muses, working you through your orgasm with just his middle finger. you let out a stream of broken moans, unable to form any words.
“fuck you’re this tight around just one of my fingers?” he murmurs before dipping back down to devour everything you give him. 
he laps up your spend eagerly and diligently, not letting a single drop go to waste. refusing to relent against your twitching clit, zayne devours you until the overstimulation lights your pussy on fire. he’s always had a sweet tooth and it looks like he’s found his absolute favorite dessert, unwilling to give it up any time soon.
“such a messy girl,” he mumbles to himself, the clear strings of arousal sticking from your wet thighs to his chin. 
your thighs tremble at the discomfort of overstimulation, doing your best to back away from him, “mmm zayne, s’too sensitive. no more, please.”
he relents reluctantly, looking utterly displeased with having his treat taken away. as he sits up, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and leans forward into you, tapping your lips with his thumb.
“open,” he commands forcefully, bringing his soaked middle finger up to you. you part your lips obediently, welcoming the taste of you on his skin. his eyes squeeze shut and he lets out a deep heated moan at the feel of your tongue on him, tasting everything he got to taste. his cock literally felt like a ton of bricks needing to be pleased. 
releasing his finger, you reach for his length again, “i-i want to make you feel good too.” 
zayne presses his cold lips to yours, simultaneously undoing the buttons of his shirt. he pulls aways to shrug the clothing off his broad shoulders, giving you an eyeful of his glorious physique. he shivers, letting you jerk his erection up and down, but pushing you down when you try to get on your knees before him.
“next time. we have all the time in the world,” he whispers, pushing you against the headboard, holding your cheek in his large hand, “but right now i need to be inside you.”
the smoldering fire in his eyes makes your mouth dry, and you nod meekly. the promise of a ‘next time’ is enough to have you ready for him again. your cunt still quivered, recovering from your previous orgasm, but pooling at the hoarse need in his tone. 
as your head lays on a pillow against the headboard of your bed, zayne lifts you from the small of your back and shoves another pillow behind you, so that you’re elevated towards him, served on a silver platter.
“spread your legs for me,” he growls, the urgency in his voice leaving little room to protest. and so you obey, widening your legs for him, watching as he admires the area between your thighs like it was 
his hand reaches to cup you, clit caught against his palm and fingers toying with your hole, “who does this belong to?” 
but you can’t hear him through the searing pleasure of his touch against your over sensitive body, the blood pounding in your ears like drums. looking at where his hand meets your body, you cry out at his ministrations against you, your thighs trembling in shivers. 
with his free hand zayne grabs your chin, slipping his thumb into your mouth, harshly forcing your eyes to his, “don’t look away. be a good girl and answer me.”
although his words are driven with lust, they remind you of the emotional turmoil you’d been weathering because of your feelings for the man in front of you.
“m’yours zayne, always been yours,” tears well in your eyes and you hope he can understand the weight behind your words, behind all the lust and arousal filled craze. 
zayne stares back at you, and his eyes hold an entire galaxy of emotions that match the colors of his irises: desire, devotion, awe…and love. 
“and i am yours,” his words strike your heart and you lean up to slot your mouth against his. as he kisses you, he lines up his thick length with your cunt, teasing your clit with his engorged tip, his pre cum mixing with your spend that still leaked out from your prior climax. you cried into his open mouth at his teases, your back arching off the pillow and further into his cock. at your movement, his head catches onto your throbbing and waiting hole, eliciting a deep grunt from him. 
he pulls away, groaning, “so impatient, you want it that bad?” you whimper, burying your face into his neck and latching onto his pulse point to save yourself from having to answer. 
“p-please…” you whisper into his ear. he groans, fishing through the pocket of his pants as he pulls them off of his legs. 
“please what, love?” he smirks at you, pulling his wallet out, now just in his briefs pulled down to let his massive erection free. 
you gulp, staring at the way he stands so proudly against his naval, reaching comfortably to his belly button. his girth rivals that of at least three of your fingers.
the rustling of plastic snaps you out of your shameless ogling. zayne places a condom packet between his teeth, tearing it with one hand. you gulp at the sight of him, but you protest, “i–i um,” you clear your throat, trying to work up the courage to vocalize what you want, “you don’t have to use that.”
zayne’s dark eyes catch yours, and the edge in his voice is dangerous, a warning, “don’t tempt me. i need to protect you.”
your face burns as you try again., “w-what i mean is, well as my doctor you know i’m clean.” you do your best to stop your voice from wavering, “and i-i um i’m on the pill.”
zayne’s eyebrows quirk as his irises darken with heat, “how come i didn't know that?
“i’ve been using an online service for a few months,” you say sheepishly, “s-so you don’t have to use that.”
zayne catches on, a satisfied smirk gracing his features, “is that so?” he teases his entire length on your slit, practically fucking you along the lips of your womanhood. using his swollen tip, he taps your clit forcefully, eliciting a throaty yelp from you.
“tell me what you want.” you shiver at the pure feral domineer in his voice.
“p-please zayne, i want it. i need it.”
“what do you need baby?” 
you groan in frustration, but give into his demands, “i-i need you zayne, need you inside. need it so bad.” the way you can see his breath hitch in his throat fills you with confidence, so you lean closer until your bottom lip brushes against his, “need to feel you inside, please zayne.”
his jaw locks as he grits out forcefully, “i will give you everything.”
zayne holds his cock with one hand, lining it up with your entrance. his other hand grips the wooden beams of your bed frame, “can you take it y/n?”
if you’re being completely honest, you’re not sure you can. though you weren’t a virgin, you had never even seen a man so large, let alone attempted. but at zayne’s expectant expression, you nod eagerly, “y-yes i can, i-i can try.”
“good girl,” he mutters, before sinking himself into you. the stretch is so much worse than you imagined it would be, practically splitting you in half. you squealed, clawing at his biceps as he did his best to enter you. feeling so incredibly stuffed, you look down only to see he’s barely just gotten his tip inside.
the vein in zayne’s forehead throbs as his jaw slackens, a string of swears leaving his lips, “jesus you’re like a vice down there. i need you to loosen up love, or else i’ll never be able to get inside.”
you pant against him, not knowing what to do but to watch the way he stares intently at your tummy. the heat and desire in his expression arouses you beyond belief, and you unconsciously squeeze your velvet walls in excitement. 
zayne’s knuckles turn white as he grips the headboard for support, the veins in his forearms bulging as he groans out, “fuck baby please. are you trying to squeeze it off?”
“sorry, m’sorry. s’too big,” you wail, hands gripping his shoulders for support. the stretch is nothing like you’ve ever felt, and you don’t know if you can take much more than what’s already inside you. “z-zayne it’s too big i c-can’t,” you pant, doing your best to relax and loosen up your muscles. 
“you can, you’re doing so good for me y/n,” zayne huffs out, pushing deeper into you, the slick from your forming arousal and his pre cum starting to make the stretch easier. the drag of his cock against your gummy walls starts to feel so torturously delicious, like your body was made to take him in. 
finally, he eases into you, eyes unable to look away from where your bodies connected.
“if you could see how – hah – beautiful you look like this, spread out for me,” he grunts, being as gentle as he can manage, when all he wanted was to ram into your warm and tight cunt, squeezing him so tightly. 
“been waiting for the day i could – shit – finally be inside you. drove me fucking insane thinking about you and matthew.”
his words are enough to have you leaking all over your joined bodies, the slick dampening his pelvis and your thighs. as he seats himself in you as deeply as he can, his tip brushing against your womb, he lets out a shaky breath of ecstasy.
“is this what you – hah – thought about? when you were with another man?” his words are claiming, making butterflies explode in your gut and your cunt to flutter around him. you can only moan and drool as his body thuds into yours, over and over. 
“sweetest little princess cunt i’ve ever felt,” he swears, languidly withdrawing from you before pushing back in, knocking the breath out of you. with your head leaning against the back of your bed frame you can see every second of his glistening length burrowing in and out of you, like it absolutely owned you. 
“z-zayne,” you moan, nails digging into his shoulders, “please.” you don’t know exactly what you’re begging for, but you can’t stop the words from coming. 
“hah, if you want something you have to – fuck – ask for it love,” he pants, doing his best not to get lost in the pure pleasure of finally getting to be inside you.
his words send you reeling, the ecstasy increasing with each deliberate and hard drag. you fight through the fucked out haze, vision blurred from your hooded lids, “hah - harder please.”
at your request zayne stutters for a brief second, your cunt squeezing so tight he could barely move, “anything for you.” 
with his hand clutching the frame, he uses his other hand to rub harsh circles onto your swollen clit. his pelvis smacks against your thighs and ass so hard that the bed posts knock into the wall repeatedly, the skin slapping sounds mixing with the sounds of the wood against the plaster. 
at the added stimulation your eyes roll into your brain, your eyelids weighing down heavily. zayne leans in until his chest presses against your breasts, your breaths heaving in tandem. his eyes follow yours, forcing you to hold eye contact with every deep thrust into your soul. against your will, your eyelids flutter as the pleasure starts to overcome your fighting consciousness.
you can vaguely make out zayne’s smirk, as his hand leaves the frame to cup your chin in his palm, “don’t tell me you’re already worn out, love.” his fingers flick against your clit.
you yelp out, nails digging into his back with one hand while the other hand smacks his shoulder gently. you pout, “you’re so mean to me.”
he leans down to kiss your shoulder, his pace never faltering. he chuckles against your skin, “but you can take it, right? you always take me so well.” the double meaning of his words makes you clench in excitement, the praise making your chest tighten.
he groans as you clench down onto him, threatening to make him blow, “hah so fucking tight. you like that huh baby? you like it when i praise you?” he thumbs your clit with more intensity, wanting to see you come absolutely undone for him.
you bite your lip to keep from screaming, nodding eagerly in response to his words. zayne’s thrusts only grow in intensity, as if he’s trying to reach your esophagus from your cunt. you’re a mess of uncontrollable moans and mewls, unable to stop your eyes from rolling back and your tongue from hanging out as he fucked you into oblivion.
“look at you,” he grins arrogantly, voice husky with desire and raw possessiveness, “going on a date with my intern just to end up with my cock stuffed in you.”
you whine at his words, simultaneously not wanting to think about matthew but also being so turned on by the dominating undertone of his words. his fingers abandon your clit, much to your disappointment, to trace the bulge his cock makes in your tummy. his other hand pulls your chin down so you can watch him.
“look how deep i am, love,” he grunts. you watch in awe as the small bump in your stomach  bulges and disappears with the rhythm of zayne’s thrusts. with every withdrawal, zayne’s impressive cock glistens with slick, the throbbing veins bulging enough to make you drool. absolutely entranced, you fit your hand under his to stroke at his cock as it pushed through your tummy.
zayne swears as you caress his cock through the bump in your tummy, throwing his head back to catch his breath. his hand goes back to paw at your clit, trying to stop himself from blowing his load into you right there.  
as the climax builds in your gut, you throb around his impossibly hardened length spearing in and out of you, to which he twitches inside of you. the sounds of your combined whimpers and grunts, the lewd smacks of his damp slick dampened skin against yours, and the bed slamming against the wall overwhelm your brain until you can only think about zayne, his cock inside you, and the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you.
“zayne, i-i’m close,” you cry, hand abandoning your stomach to loop around his neck, digging your nails into his damp skin.
“fuck – i know love, i can feel you trying to squeeze it out of me,” he grunts, body slamming into yours so hard that your body smacks against the headboard.
“i’m gonna – gonna cum,” you cry, nails digging into the taut muscles of his back.
“no,” he demands, and you do your best not to gape at him. he gasps through his next strokes, “be a good girl and wait for me. i want to feel you finish all over me when i cum inside you.”
“o-okay,” you say, but you’re honestly unsure if you’ll be able to wait, the waves of pleasure crashing into you so roughly it threatens to overtake you right then and there.
“that’s my girl,” gripping your chin, zayne leans in to kiss you again, his tongue claiming your warm and waiting mouth. your eyes squeeze shut and your body tenses as you try to quell the raging tides of the impending climax, moaning endlessly into zayne’s mouth.
you pull away to breathe, your lungs needing as much oxygen as possible to withstand the ecstasy. zayne’s hand grips the wooden beams above your bed again, his knuckles turning white as he watches the pleasure contort your beautiful face. 
“i-i can’t – ”
“you can, baby. i’m – hah – almost there, just hold on a little longer for me,” he grunts. the pleasure and pain of his edging threatens to knock you unconscious, but you nod and throw your head back as your eyes roll backwards again.
through your fucked out haze you can vaguely see a strange icy sheen forming on the wooden beams of your bed’s headboard. you follow the path of luminous crystals and realize they’re forming from zayne’s hand that grips against the frame so tightly his knuckles are pale and taut, as he comes closer to exploding inside you. 
unable to shake yourself out of the pleasure, you can’t find the words to warn zayne. you continue to watch in awe as the beautiful iridescent flakes frost over the dull old wood. his palm is covered in a layer of snow white frost, the tiny snowflakes dancing around his skin as it grips the furniture so forcefully. you realize he’s losing control of his evol, because of you. and the idea of that threatens to push you head first into your second orgasm of the night.
it happened so fast. as zayne bullies himself in and out of you, thrusting as if his life depended on it, the wooden beams of your headboard cracks in his hand, the wood turning brittle against his icy evol, and shattering under the force of his bruising grip. 
zayne shields your body with his own as frozen wooden splinters fly everywhere, his thrusts stuttering as the sound of cracking wood pierces the air. you can tell he’s scared, constantly worried about losing control of his evol around you like this. his hands clasp together, massaging his wrists and trying to calm the unpredictable storm of his evol. you can feel him about to pull away, to get away from you and keep you safe.
you hug him close to you as he tries to pull away not wanting him to stop, not caring the least bit about the splintering wood falling into your hair. the worry and disgust with himself is evident in his eyes, and it tears at your heart so you do your best to comfort him, “s’okay zayne, it’s not a big deal, i promise.”
but his eyes are far away, thick with emotions that make your chest lurch. you hold his face in  your hands trying to get him to look at you and not the splintered mess of furniture above you. you lock your knees around his waist. “zayne baby,” you soothe gently, “look at me. look at me please.”
his frantic eyes meet yours under the guidance of your palms. you watch as the storm in his eyes calms down ever so slightly when they meet yours. you brush your thumb against his cheek, whispering, “don’t stop, please. m’so close. i need you.” 
but zayne is hesitant, only filled with worry for you, his thrusts halting altogether but still thick and solid in you. his jaw clenches down, “did i hurt you?”
“not at all,” you reassure, hand stroking his anguish laced face, “i don’t care, please make me cum zayne, want to cum for you s’bad.”
zayne continues his thrusts slowly, trying to shake away his anger at himself, “hah – i’m so sorry y/n, i’ll buy you a new one, okay?”
“y-yes whatever you want, but please just fuck me,” you plead, not wanting your climax to slip through your fingers, “please don’t stop.” 
your begging is enough to have zayne going feral again, slowly regaining the vigor in his thrusts. his hand dusts the wooden fragments away from your hair. your head sinks deep into the pillow, and falls back to peer at the gaping hole in your bed frame, slightly in awe of his sheer primal strength. it honestly turned you on unbelievably, edging you closer and closer. 
“zayne i c-can’t wait anymore, m’sorry m’cumming,” you wail, your nails digging through his back as the ecstasy explodes in your body, from the tips of your curled toes to your fucked out brain. your walls flex against zayne’s vigorous thrusts as he continues to chase his own high, briefly forgetting about the furniture he’d ruined in his brief slip of control. 
your eyes pull away from the snowflakes melting on the splintered headboard and fixate on zayne’s eyes as your vision spots with fireworks, his cock pistoning in and out of you relentlessly. 
he lifts your thighs up until they press against his chest, your muscles aching in protest. your ankles rest on his shoulders as he drives himself into your guts at this angle. he leans down and your body screams at the stretch in your muscles but he hits you so deeply like this you can’t feel anything but pleasure. he hits your g spot at every thrust, your body barely recovering from the previous orgasm as he steers you straight into another. 
“sh-shit,” he groans, his eyes hooded as they bore into yours, “squeezing me so fucking tight, are you trying to milk me? if you keep clenching down like that i’m gonna – fuck!” he swears at your nails digging into his broad back, dragging deep scratches into him as he fucks you roughly through the pleasure. 
“p-please zayne i want to feel you,” you cry, “cum inside me, please.” as zayne pounds into you with no semblance of mercy, stars blur your vision, your body doing your best to accommodate him and the endless waves of overwhelming ecstasy. your wet release splashes against your skin with every thrust of his hard muscular body. 
“f-fuck i’m gonna cum so deep inside you baby,” he groans with his eyes intently staring into yours, “this pussy is all mine.”
“you’re mine,” his voice is intense, a primal growl of urge and possessiveness, claiming you as his with both words and with his body. he bends back down, pressing a wet open mouthed kiss into you, tongue intertwining with yours needily. both his hands threads through your hair, tugging gently as he rocks into you. he groans into your mouth, body shuddering as he finally releases into you.
zayne rips away from your lips to rock onto his knees before you and carry you onto his lap, wanting to be able to hold you as close as possible as he emptied rope after rope inside of you. the angle allowed him to literally fuck his spend up into you. your legs wrap around his waist and your hands around his neck, unable to even squeal at the sudden movement, only able to drool out against the crook of his neck. 
his spend is so deliciously hot inside of you, as your pussy quivers at the warmth, squeezing him even more. he forces his tongue into you again, wanting to be attached to you in every way as he pumps every thick rope into your waiting womb. as he tugs on your bottom lip, body still pressed on top of your legs, cock hitting your sweetest spots, you release all over him again.
your eyes squeeze shut as your cunt pulsates uncontrollably, pulling more and more of his essence into you. zayne’s thick muscles shake under you, the waves of his orgasm rocking his entire body into yours.  
you pant as his bounces slow, his unending stamina finally coming to a halt as his sweaty chest heaves against your trembling breasts. he presses gentle kisses to the deep hickeys he’d marked onto your skin, using his broad hands to caress your bruise splotched throat.
the sound of satisfied pants and soft moans blankets the two of you as you snuggle into him, never wanting this moment of post sex bliss to end. your collective spend begins to leak down onto zayne’s lap, your poor cunt physically unable to hold the copious amount of spend inside of you. 
as his member softens it begins to slip out of you uncomfortably, so you squeeze in an effort to keep him in you as long as physically possible. 
zayne swears, his eyes heated and his gentle grip on your throat tightening just slightly, as he warns you darkly, “behave. unless you want me to take you again.”
and though the idea of him bringing you to orgasm again, and many times after, sounds like heaven on earth, you don’t think your poor cunt can possibly handle any more pleasure for tonight. he chuckles when you ease up, stroking the curvature of your naked spine with his icy fingers.
“i’m sorry about your bed, my love,” he murmurs into the shell of your ear, falling softly backwards onto the bed and guiding you down with him until you rested on top of his hard muscular body, his softening erection still nuzzled deep inside you. he’s careful to lay the two of your joined bodies away from the destroyed headboard, holding your head protectively against his chest.  “i will buy you a replacement tomorrow.”
his free hand roams every inch of your body, from twirling the strands of your hair to gripping the supple flesh of your rear. 
“s’okay zayne, it’s not necessary,” you murmur sleepily, tracing the contours of his taut muscles, “i don’t need a new frame.” honestly the idea of zayne breaking your bed in pure primal lust was enough to have the heat collecting back in between your thighs. 
“i would rather you take me on a date,” you smile into his skin, “since you ruined the one i had today.”
zayne chuckles, the sound so warm and beautiful to your ears you think you might melt right into his solid frame, “i suppose i did. will you let me take you out tomorrow?”
you lean up so that your chin rests on his chest and you can peer at him through your lashes, giving him your best begging face, “only if you beg.” 
he looks up at you, the amused lopsided smile on his face just begging to be wiped off, “please? let me take you to dinner.” he lifts your chin off his chest with his index finger, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to your lips. he smirks when you shiver at his fleeting touch, watching you bend to his very will.
“and then after…” he trails off, fingers leaving your face to trace against the side of your exposed breasts, and up to your hard nipples. you bite your lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of moaning out. 
as he incessantly fiddles with your skin, you finish his thought with a joke, “after you can come destroy my new bed frame too.”
zayne’s eyes darken with mischief and amusement, “you shouldn't write checks your body can’t cash, my love.”
the filthy promise in his words coupled with his cold fingers pressed deliciously into your pebbled peaks rip the whimper you’d been holding back out of your lips, your cunt clenching in anticipation despite your crippling exhaustion.
but it seems zayne knows your body as well as you do. “but for tonight, just sleep,” he mumbles into the top of your head, pressing his lips into your hair. 
“mmm stay here with me, please,” you murmur into his chest, letting the sleep take root in your pleasure numbed mind. 
“i’ll be here when you wake up,” he reassures, his voice falling deeper and rougher with exhaustion and hands shifting to cover your bodies with your comforter. his hands then wrap around your waist, holding your body against this, as if scared you’d disappear from his arms. “i won’t ever leave you.” 
your heart flutters as the unconsciousness claims you. “g’night zayne,” you mumble, kissing his chest.
“good night my love.”
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© aeyumicore 2024. please do not steal ♡
taglist: @queenashen @kttriangle @lyssa-211 @jeikeun
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planetnini · 2 months
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ive never seen sukuna that way until now hold on
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14K notes · View notes
planetnini · 2 months
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this is THE oikawa trope like the regret the grovelling and the knowing everything about them and it’s just…. there
the best trope for oikawa tooru is exes to lovers bc imagine him breaking up w you back in hs bc he wants to go abroad and he needs to focus on his career more than you. he just had to put his ego first before anything else which— led him to saying something wrong "you're just not my priority, alright?" was what he muttered and it was what ended the relationship.
though he felt like it was good to confess it, he's sure he didn't mean it. not when everything reminds him of you back in his small apartment in argentina. the instant noodle packet— it reminded him of when you used to laugh at him bc he couldn't handle the spiciness only to stop him after that bc you're worried abt his health. his white setter quotes shirt— that you used to always wear and he'd whine bc that's his favourite shirt but he didn't mind at all. what sucks most is that it still had your scent.
he cursed under his breath, a sigh escapes his lips before he rubbed his temples. he swears— he swears that he doesn't miss you. it was his decision to end the relationship, it was his move, it was him who became the asshole.
yet why?— why is tears welling up in his eyes and he keeps his head up to avoid his tears escaping? his bottom lip quivers as he bites down on it— hard.
"fuck, i made a mistake"
he finally lets out.
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planetnini · 2 months
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i love modern geto au’s sm
𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 — GETO SUGURU
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we don't gotta be in love, i don't gotta be the one, i just wanna be one of your girls tonight.
wc: 5.3k+ (im sick of myself too)
contents. fwb!geto x f!reader, < 17+ DNI , geto's an asshole for a little bit, mentions of sex but no smut, angst, descriptions of cheating and misogyny, im sorry naoya himself is his own warning, like one paragraph about virginity loss, happy ending though so
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The first time you met Geto Suguru, he was the pretty freshman who sat behind you in your math class. You can remember his bulky glasses, his messy bun, and his innocent smile; you were all cute in your freshman year, but Suguru was especially adorable with his overwhelming desire to succeed. He was a nerd, a cute one in his own right, but a nerd nonetheless.
You blame everything on Toji Fushiguro, really. It was Toji Fushiguro who introduced him to the world of bodybuilding, sex, and alcohol, after all—or at least you assume so because when Geto Suguru entered his freshman year of college, he had no reason to look as fine as he did, and Toji was the most obvious scapegoat (god knew Gojo never touched the gym with a ten-foot pole and it had to be one of them). His build was now on par with Toji's, except Suguru was far more dangerous because he had better fashion taste; he wore tops that extenuated his waist and muscles, donning baggy pants that let everybody know just how broad his hips were when they dipped. Suguru never went so far down the slippery slope of the package deal that some type of general assholery came with gym rats, not like Toji and certainly not like Naoya, but it was clear that he had grown far more confident and a little too cocky for what could do him any good.
You can’t really blame Toji Fushiguro for ending up in Geto Suguru’s bed, though. It wasn’t Toji’s fault you wore a skimpy outfit to Suguru’s New Year party because it was Suguru’s New Year party, nor was it Toji’s fault that wandering eyes turned into a make-out session in the bathroom while everyone was counting down to the new year, and it definitely wasn’t Toji’s fault that you were weak to your own desires for the man you’ve had a lowkey-crush on since freshman year, so you realize that you have to be the one to take the blame when you wake up half-naked at noon next to him.
It was confusing to treat Suguru so incredibly casually when he woke up, the two of you shared corny banter while he yawned and offered to cook you breakfast (because of course with his stellar academics, he dabbled in fine dining and cooking as well). It was confusing, but not hard because it turned out that you and Suguru actually got along really well. A one-night stand became a lovely friendship, and a lovely friendship developed until you found yourself in his bed again. And again.
You tell yourself that you don't really care that Suguru only sees you as a friend, that when he languidly wraps his arms around you it doesn't make your heart skip a beat, that the fact that he knows every curve of your body doesn't make you moan that much louder, and that—
“Hey, can we stop?” Your words come out quiet; Suguru's lips still against your collarbones, and his hips stop moving against yours.
“Is something the matter?” He blinks, and you force yourself to brush away how pretty you think he looks before you roll to the side, “What's wrong?”
“I'm just not in the mood anymore,” you bite your lip as you face away from him, “I'm sorry.”
You know that Suguru isn't an idiot. He graduated with the second-best marks during your high school years after all, so it doesn't surprise you that he does his best to lighten the mood.
“Damn, I'm that bad?” He whistles casually, flopping down next to you, “We haven't even started yet and I've already turned you off?”
“’S not you.” You reply, even though you know he doesn't mean it. His bed is comfortable, more than you'd like you admit—he chuckles, and his arm leans over to hug you. He lies his face on the side of yours and he kisses the side of your jaw, his hands tickling up the inside of your shirt, running up your waist.
“Why aren't you looking at me, babe?” He murmurs, his teasing tone lilting between the strands of your hair, “Embarrassed of your fuck buddy?”
“If you call yourself my fuck buddy one more time I'm literally never fucking you again.” You whine, your cheeks heating up as you try to pull the covers up.
“That's fine,” he laughs, “We can just be cuddle buddies —see— I see you smiling!” He pokes your cheek as you let out a small giggle, shoving his hand away from yours.
Suguru Geto is dangerously beautiful up close, even from this angle where most people aren't, even when the light outside barely shines on him, even when you can barely see him. His face is right next to yours, tilted to the side with that cheesy grin he always dons when he’s with you, his nose mere centimeters from yours. Your heart skips a beat despite how much you will it not to, and your breath gets caught in your throat before you sit up; the sheets pool down to your waist as you begin to get out of his bed, and Suguru shoots up.
“Hey—hey—where are you going?” He asks worriedly as you step onto his floor, slipping your pants back on.
“I have a project I have to finish, I have to wake up early tomorrow.” You try to sound casual but it comes off distant anyways, and you wince as you bite back your tongue.
“What, you won't even sleep in the same bed as me? How can we be cuddle buddies if we can't even cuddle?”
Your voice is quiet, flipping your hair out from under the shirt you just put on. “I think I should sleep in my own bed tonight.”
He swallows, the one arm resting on his mattress holding his body up as his eyes blink in confusion. “…Fuck, whatever, if you don't wanna tell me it's fuckin’ whatever.” He flops back down on his bed, staring at the ceiling as you hesitate at the doorway, your hand on the frame. You clench your teeth before walking out, and Suguru yells “Close the door on your way out!” when you reach the front steps. He sounds bitter, and you can't blame him.
You shut it as gently as you can.
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You try to continue being friends with Suguru Geto after that incident. Just friends. He understands your boundaries even though you don't tell him directly; he gets the hint when you step away when he gets closer, how you'd flinch out of his grasp if he held your waist. The way he looks at you is like a punch in the gut every time, confused, unsure, but silent. Sometimes, you wish he would tell you what he's thinking and how he's feeling; hell, you might prefer it if he exploded, venting his frustrations onto you—you think he has the right to, but he doesn't.
“So (Y/n),” a voice drawls you out of your contemplating, “You and Nanami?”
The people nearby zero in on your ex, who has the most shit-eating grin you've ever seen him bear. No one really knows why Naoya is at Suguru's New Year's party, and even Toji adjusts the hem of his turtleneck as he clears his throat. Your eyes immediately go to Kento, who shifts uncomfortably next to you with an apprehensive look on his face—you look at Suguru and Satoru, whose eyes flicker between the two of you.
“What the fuck, Naoya?” Shoko takes her cigarette out of her mouth, looking equally disturbed as Nanami, “What kinda shit are you pulling right now?”
“C’mon, you guys would be cute together! You've known each other the longest out of everybody, I saw you walking together and you looked all buddy-buddy—I'd support it. ” Naoya smiles crudely, “Don't you agree, Suguru?”
Your shoulders tense, and you swear the cup Suguru's holding might break by how tight he's clutching it. His knuckles are purple as he scoffs, and Gojo puts a hand on his shoulder, his eyes warily shifting between Naoya and his best friend.
The mood of the room is especially uncomfortable considering the fact that Nanami had only recently officially gotten over an old flame and the fact that everyone knew your situation with Naoya. Everyone knew your situation with Suguru, too.
“Right, Suguru? I mean, they're literally the same person. Wouldn't it be perfect?”
The air feels heavy—you can't breathe and your eyes sting as you stare unblinking at the carpeted floor beneath you; Nanami still has the decency to give you a worried glance, but he doesn't do anything else lest Naoya’s sharp eyes find something else to feast on. You despise how he finds any way he can to make you uncomfortable, how he always finds the cracks in your demeanor, how he can get under your skin like it’s child's play.
Suguru's jaw trembles, out of anger you're not entirely sure, but his lips finally part, “I—”
“Fuck you, Naoya.” You set your drink down while you do your best not to tremble, but your nerves spasm anyway. You push yourself off of the couch you sit on (making sure not to put your hands anywhere near Nanami), pushing your way out of the semicircle the group had put themselves in. You think you might hate living as you feel everyone's eyes follow you; the embarrassment you feel is all you can feel, but you do your best to keep your head up anyways.
The humiliation only seems to increase exponentially the further you get away from them as you let the emotions hit you fully, you weave through the crowds of people (why did Suguru have to invite so many people for the new year?) and firework stands prepped, your heart clambering against your chest like an unsteady drum.
It only feels like you can breathe when you stumble through his front door and onto his lawn.
“—(/n), (Y/n)!” You recognize that that must be Suguru following you out, but you can only hear the sound of high-pitched ringing in your ears. The wind blows past your hair and the grass tickles your feet and it calms you down for just a second, enough to whirl around and recognize Suguru behind you, his hair tied up in a messy bun.
“Hey, are you okay?” His eyes furrow in worry, “Listen, I—”
“I’m gonna kill him,” your fingers run through your hair, “I wanna strangle him, I wanna—”
“I'll find out who invited him, I—”
“I'll fucking rip out his tongue, god, Kento’s never gonna fucking talk to me again—”
“(Y/n), calm down, everything is fine.” He grabs your wrists to stop the fact that you're wringing them erratically, his pointer finger pressing onto your pulse as you feel yourself crumble. He wears a worried expression on his face, hurriedly glancing back to his house before he turns to you.
“I hate him so much.” Your voice cracks, and Suguru pulls you into a hug. You allow yourself to be comforted by the action for just a little bit as his arms wrap around your body, his wool sweater pressing against your face.
“We all do,” he murmurs, his hand cradling the back of your head, his fingers playing with the strands of your hair, and he chuckles dryly, “Can't believe we used to be friends with him.”
“I'm the one that dated him.” You mumble, trying to keep the shock out of your voice—you knew that he and Naoya had grown distanced, but you thought they were still friendly with each other at least. You guess that's why no one enjoyed having Naoya there (the group barely tolerates Toji as it is), anyone in their right mind would choose Suguru over him.
He laughs dryly, patting your shoulder, his fingers teasing at the nape of your neck, “He just wanted to get back at me ‘nd you is all that was—just a Zenin being a Zenin.”
You giggle, and Suguru grins at the sight of you.
The moon illuminates your skin and jewelry, your eyes tilted in crescent-shaped curves as you laugh, your dress curving your body ever so perfectly. Suguru thinks he might become blind if he stares for too long. He's always thought you were beautiful, and maybe it's because he's gone so long without touching you, but he wants to kiss you so badly he can barely control himself. He always does.
You freeze when he leans down, pressing a kiss on the corner of your lips. Your lips part, but you don't kiss him back—he still tries, though, moving to the center of your lips fully, wrapping your bottom lip with his.
It's different from all the other times he's kissed you, it's far too slow, far too soft, far too intimate for your liking. Suguru feels warmth rise in his chest, it almost makes him delirious—despite being dead sober, he feels like he's as high as the sky. He's needed this—he's needed you for what he feels like has been an eternity. He wants you to need him just as much. You falter, stepping back as your hand rises to touch your lips, staring at him in shock.
“Suguru,” your hand trembles ever so slightly, but your voice remains steady, “You can't do this to me.”
His frame is silhouetted by the full moon above you, but you can see the way he stares at you. It's a stare you know but have pretended not to recognize for your own sake; you've chalked it up to lusty gazes and being delusional out of your mind, but you know with a heavy heart you can't be wrong this time.
“What? What am I doing?” He breathes airily, and you think your heart might burn.
“You can't keep looking at me like that.” The words tumble impulsively, foolishly, out of your mouth, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
He swallows, but his eyes don't leave yours. “Like what?”
The first firework pops into the sky, sending blue sparks flying into the air, and you faintly recognize it as the test firework. It leaves the air feeling all too silent in its absence, all too dark, but it leaves you alone with your overwhelming thoughts that are far louder than the fireworks every could be.
“Like I mean more to you.”
The second test starts. It's green and gold this time, bigger and brighter, bolder and nicer, and Suguru opens and closes his mouth, his eyes searching for a hint as to what expression you're wearing on your face.
“That's because you do.”
Your breath hitches in your throat as the third test lights up the entire neighborhood in a brilliant red, showering the sky with crimson sparkles and a crisp crack, and you feel your mind shut down.
“Suguru, you can't—you don't have the right—” Your voice gets louder as it competes with the multiple fireworks being set off now that the tests are done, a rainbow of colors above you as your chest constricts.
Suguru's expression shifts into one of agony, his eyes darting between yours. “(Y/n), I'm in love with you, I have been for the—”
“Stop it—”
“I couldn't help it, I'm so sorry—”
“Suguru, you're being cruel—”
“And I know I don't deserve you, I fuckin’ know—”
“You deserve the world, I’m just—!”
“(Y/n), I'm begging you—”
“Stop!” Your voice cracks raw as you yell over the deafening sounds of the fireworks above you, and tears prick your eyes, “Suguru, please!”
He bites his tongue on accident, letting out a pained groan as he covers his mouth with his hand, feeling a trickle of blood seep down the crevices of his mouth. This isn't what he needed by any means, not on any day, especially not right now.
“…Does being in a relationship with me sound so bad?” His voice is hoarse and defeated, his posture slumped.
Your heart is delicate, you've been setting up fragile boundaries to protect and ensare it into a cage it feels comfortable being in—Geto Suguru is a danger to that cage. He bulldozes through every challenge in his way, carefully maneuvering his way into the depths of your atrium, sinking his teeth into your ventricle, and it leaves you breathless, unable to breathe.
The worst part is that you like it.
“You know why I can't do this right now. I just need time.” You try, and he shakes his head in defeat.
“Naoya is in the fucking past, (Y/n),” he's bitter as he shoves his hand in his pocket, a resentful scoff pushing through his lips as his eyes burn holes into the grass, “You need to get over it.”
You bristle.
“Yeah, because dating my cheater ex-boyfriend’s best fucking friend who's known to be of a similar vein will help me get over it.”
He clenches his teeth. “I'm not his best fucking friend—”
“Yeah? Well, you're sure acting like it.”
“God, why do you take everything so fucking seriously?”
“Why am I taking this so seriously?” You clench your fists, you can't believe you expected him to understand, “You've never been cheated on, Suguru! I knew you in high school, you were the one that girls cheated on their boyfriends with! Do you know how many relationships you’ve ruined? Do you even care?”
“No, I don't care, because they weren't you!” He snaps, “We were all dumb, those relationships weren't going to last anyways!”
“Oh just because they aren't gonna last suddenly it makes it all okay?”
“You know that's not what I meant!”
“What do you mean, then? Enlighten me!”
“I'm not the same person I was in high school, and neither are you! It's been two fucking years, (Y/n)!”
The fireworks have stopped now, leaving the smoke sizzling in the air surrounding you. You shiver as the wind passes you; it's cold now without the fireworks.
“I jus’ don't want to get hurt,” your words come out incomplete, your throat burns in desperate need of water and you sniffle, swallowing as you stare down at the cement to keep the tears at bay, “I don't wanna get hurt anymore.”
“I would never hurt you.” His voice comes out quiet, and you don't know if you believe him.
“…I think it's a little too late for that.”
There are articles that describe cannibalism as a metaphor for love. They say that it feeds off of a human’s natural and carnal instinct to be impossibly close to a person, to consume them wholly. You think that's bullshit, because Suguru Geto consumed your heart, and now there's nothing left for it to do but break. You think you can feel it crumbling and constricting in your chest as you leave him in his front yard to walk to your car, parked on the other side of the road.
You only let the tears start to fall when you reach your front door.
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Your relationship with Naoya started off perfect, but that's because you thought Naoya himself was perfect. He was your first serious relationship (it was serious for you—him, not so much), so naturally, you gave everything to him.
He was naturally amazing at everything he tried; he was talented, handsome, and an heir to one of the biggest corporations to exist, he was Naoya. You used to gossip to your friends about which one was hotter: the cold and rough Toji or the respectable and proper Naoya, but what you never expected was to catch the attention of the latter. You don't know what you did or how it happened, really, all you remember is Naoya taking you aside and asking you out on a date and you giddily saying yes.
Naoya was smart because he knew that no matter what he did, you would still love him.
That was just the person you were, so when he laid you on his bed and you asked him if this was his first time too, he said yes with a comforting tone and his thumb pushing against your lips, teasing against your mouth. It would've been his first time if it weren't for the hook-up with Aoi in the bathroom, he swore up and down to himself, that he would've been devoted to you and only you, that he would've saved himself for you and only you.
…Or the time he fucked Haruki in their teacher’s classroom, or the time Hayashi pulled him into her room during her party, or even when he had Keiko in the same room and in the same position just last night.
You didn't need to know any of that because none of them were his girlfriend, you were. He knew it was toxic somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, but that was how he was raised—he thought that you'd make the perfect housewife someday, that one day he'd walk through the doors of your shared home and you'd await him with a kiss on the cheek, with dinner on the table and a ring on your left finger, your child playing with stuffed animals while he took you upstairs to take care of you.
That's why he kept seeing other girls, of course. He did it for you, you can remember him telling you—so that he could prepare to be an ideal husband for you. It was his duty to learn from other girls, then perfect on you, to give you the best of everything he had to offer. You might not have been his first, but he was yours, and that made him realize that there was no power trip like being with you. You, of course, broke up with him on the spot.
Naoya opened your eyes to the world in all of the wrong ways, and you can’t really blame yourself, but he was still your first love, whether you liked it or not. That’s why being friends-with-benefits with Suguru was so nice, because even if you acted like you were in a relationship, you never actually were. It was that one boundary that you could never cross with anybody after Naoya, you were able to toe the line with Suguru, but you never crossed it.
Now you don’t have a relationship with Suguru anymore.
It’s been a month since his New Year’s Party, and you haven’t talked to him since. That isn’t to say that you haven’t seen him since, because unfortunately, it feels like you see more times than you did before things escalated. You see him having lunch with Shoko on the benches in the courtyard, you see him passing through the halls with Gojo’s arm over his shoulder, chatting without a care in the world until Gojo’s eyes flicker to you and he bumps him. He pauses, but he doesn’t look at you even though you know he can see you, and he keeps talking.
Hurt people hurt people, you guess.
You contemplate reaching out first sometimes, you think about what his voice might sound like over the phone, where he might be if you called. You wonder what he would say, if he would be surprised to hear your voice first, if he would tell you that he missed you as much as you missed him, if he would complain about how he wanted to be the one to reach out first.
You get your answer a week later when the doorbell to your ground-floor apartment rings and you open your door to find Geto Suguru right outside on the steps.
You're dressed in your pajamas while he isn't—he looks casual, though, a thick, black turtleneck tucked into his jeans. He has flowers in one hand and a bruise on his cheek, an apprehensive look on his face.
“Hey.” Your voice comes out meeker than you would've liked it to be, one of your hands on the doorframe while the other one rests on your side.
“Hey.” His voice is hoarse, like he hasn't spoken in forever, like he's talking for the first time.
“I—um—do you wanna come in?” You step to the side quickly, almost tripping over your own feet as you gesture into your house. The winter air is crisp, and it nips at your skin ever so slightly.
He shakes his head, though, muttering something like “it only works if it's out here”, but you can't really hear him over your heartbeat pounding in your ears.
You fidget at your place at the door, and he hurriedly shoves the flowers in your face. “Here,” he holds them out, refusing to look you in the eye, “Before they get wet.”
A hint of a smile appears on your face as you note the aromas he picked out for you; it faintly smells like that perfume you always liked on him. The parchment is dry under your palms, and even though a part of you is confused because the forecast has been showing clear skies for weeks, you still appreciate the sweet gesture.
“Me ‘nd Naoya got in a fight.” He points to the bruise he has on his cheek before he angles it towards you, moving closer ever so slightly, “His germs got on my skin, so if you want, you can feel free to punch it off. You'd be doing me a favor.”
“I'm not gonna punch you, Suguru.” The bruise is a slight purple/yellow that hasn't quite settled into his skin yet, and you realize that this must've happened very recently; what an incredulous request, but you suppose it fits him—he laughs innocently, a close-eyed chuckle that makes you want to laugh too.
“I wanted to say sorry for… everything that happened,” he starts slowly, “It wasn't right for me to just push that all on you, especially after Naoya pulled out that bullshit.”
The cold outside doesn’t seem to bother him at all, despite the breeze that occasionally billows down your neighborhood.
“I know you still have some shit you need to figure out with that dickwad and I thought for a very long time about the things that I did and what I said,” he looks slightly embarrassed, “I was being an asshole, I didn't consider everything.”
You move to speak but he continues too quickly, “I'm not Naoya,” his shoulders tense, and you can't help but wonder why, “And—”
You can only stare in shock as water gets splashed down on him.
“Oh my god!” You have to step back as the water hits him, stray droplets bouncing off of his dry clothing. He yelps as it pelts him relentlessly, and you peek your head out to the side to look up to see no one other than Gojo Satoru holding a plastic watering can four floors up from you (you forgot he lived in your complex)—he sends you a sly grin and a thumbs up, the other hand accidentally losing its balance with the can and sending a massive splash of cold water raining down on Suguru. He braces as it hits him, his mouth wide and his eyebrows furrowed as he tries to shake it off of his body, and you can hear a faint “Sorry!” from Gojo above you.
“I’m gonna kill him—!” Suguru shivers, and you can only stare in dismay as the water stops for a second or two, starting up again as (you can only assume) Gojo gets another watering can, “Ignore all of that please—fuck, it’s cold, I know you like those romance movies with apologies in the rain, and I waited to see if there was literally any day it would rain but it’s winter, and the Satoru messed the timing up—”
“Suguru, you must be freezing, let’s get you inside, yeah?” Your mind whirls in confusion as you talk, trying to process everything. He wanted to recreate a scene in the rain for you? With Gojo's help? How could he not see this going terribly wrong?
“I really needed this to be perfect, fuck.” His face is red, from his anger or his embarrassment you're not sure, “Oh my god, let's pretend this is a really sweet and romantic gesture—tell me you're swooning or something, please.”
“I'm swooning,” your voice comes out hurriedly, you can't help but worry, even through your incredulous laugh, even through your melting heart, “I think it's so sweet that you did this. I'm serious.”
It seems like a heavy weight has been lifted off of him, and he heaves a heavy sigh through the water. Suguru is pretty, even when he's sopping wet and there are stray hairs sticking out of his loose bun, sticking to his face and curling around the curves of his cheekbones and chin. You feel your heart grow heavy.
“But that still doesn't mean I'm ready for a relationship,” your fingers tighten on the frame, “I just need time.”
“I just wanted my friend back.” Suguru smiles easily; he's telling the truth, you can tell because you can see his smile lines and the way his monolids crinkle up through the artificial rain, and he sheepishly looks to the side, "'Nd I need more time for the chainsaw to arrive, anyways.”
“As long as you don't kill him.” You say it half-jokingly and it feels stupid that you have to warn him, but you honestly don't think you'd be surprised if Naoya got hacked into pieces by the entire male population at your school.
“As long as you don't fuck other guys.” He smiles good-naturedly.
You roll your eyes, a playful smile on your face, “I have feelings for you, I'm not some common whore like we're in the medieval times."
“You want me so bad!” Suguru gasps dramatically, clutching his heart.
“Have some fucking decorum.” You shift your body sideways, your arm gesturing to the inside of your house, “I forgive you, so come inside before you get sick—I don’t wanna be responsible for your cold.”
He sends Satoru another thumbs up, using his hand to block the water from his eyes, and the rain stops falling. “I'm wet, (Y/n),” he smiles bashfully, “And not in the way that's pleasurable for either of us.”
“…Let me get you a towel, we can dry you off before you get new clothes upstairs.” You turn around before he can see the giddy smile that makes its way on your face. You hurry to place the flowers gently on your table before you run to your bathroom, hastily grabbing an armful of towels before running back to your front door. He’s still there, his body shivering and frozen as you place one on the floor, holding up the other. His unsure eyes stare at the step up to enter your home as if it’s a portal to Narnia, as if he’s going into unfamiliar territory for the first time.
You sigh, “Hurry up before I unforgive you.”
Your words seem to knock him out of whatever headspace he was in, and he fumbles his shoes off of his feet, stepping onto the towel right inside your home. You lean past him, closing the door gently before you drape the towel over him like a cape.
“You clean yourself up,” you mutter, “I’m gonna go yell at Gojo now.”
“Wait, I was the one that—”
“He messed up the timing, it would’ve been way more romantic if I got to hear the rest of your speech.”
Suguru looks like a crestfallen puppy, hugging the towel closer around his body. “I still have the rest of it memorized,” he grumbles, “I could tell it to you. Serenade you, even.”
You smile. “After you dry off, go get changed—your clothes are still here, you should have no problem finding them.” You grab your phone off of the counter, sidestepping him before you grasp your door handle to berate Gojo, “When I’m back, you can tell me all about your declaration of love while we watch a movie or something.”
At this, Suguru brightens. “Does that mean we can actually be cuddle buddies?”
“As long as you're good,” you poke his cheek, “Our friendship’s gotta start again somewhere, right?”
“Promise.” He lifts his hands in innocence, “What do you wanna watch?”
No, you aren’t ready to date Suguru, but with time, you can imagine yourself being his, and him being yours.
“Whatever you want," you smile, "As long as it’s a romance movie with apologies in the rain.”
With that, you leave Suguru in your apartment, hoping he’ll behave himself while you go gossip to his best friend about him.
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a/n: ive watched too many suguru one of the girls edits😞, in my mind greedy satoru and one of the girls geto are the same universe which makes it so funny bc nanamis rlly going through it in both
also naoyas character is highkey based on someone i knew irl and if he ever has any reason to sneeze its rn you fucking asshole get hit by a car and get incapacitated for life
this is the first time ive written something like this so comments / constructive criticism is appreciated !!
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planetnini · 2 months
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AN UPDATE FROM NINI
well… hello, i have been quite inactive but i just wanted to let you guys know what’s been going on in my life
i saw taylor last week it was phenomenal
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i haven’t been writing much.. just been focusing on myself which is quite tricky… the uni break has been tough on me even though it’s supposed to be freeing but i hope to get back to writing soon even if it’s just a little
check out @stsgluver 2k event!!!! bambi my love<3
hope everyone is well love u all so much
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planetnini · 3 months
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chúc mừng năm mới! happy lunar new year to all my fellow followers who celebrate. may this year be filled with happiness, prosperity, and good health<3 (to all ofc)
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planetnini · 3 months
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i adore this so much!!!
love line
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s. on a very drunk night, satoru exposes your crush on the famous mma fighter, and friend of yours, toji zenin
w.c. 12.3k
w. fem! reader, mma!toji! x reader , fluff!, smut!
a/n: this might not be proofread well but I hope yall enjoy. im very in love with this man!
"I can't believe I lost that stock today!"
you're out having drinks with your friends at a fancy bar in shibuya when satoru gets shitfaced drunk. the matter is nothing new. he's the lightweight of the group and doesn't care about getting home most of the time because he knows either you or suguru will take charge and take him home.
you're taking frequent sips of your whiskey as you watch one of the country's most successful business owners mope over a small, so very minuscule, fraction of his wealth fly by. suguru is sitting next to you at the booth and exchanges a look of 'idiot' in reference to the white haired man's sad life story. sukuna is in front of you and no look needs to be exchanged because he simply acts on his thoughts and gives satoru a smack on the back of his head.
and toji's at the center of the booth, smooshed between shoko and satoru. he's looking at satoru in mild amusement, a small smirk on his face at the fool's stupidity as he too drinks from a glass of whiskey. he's wearing a low scooped black long sleeve that probably costs a thousand dollars and rightfully so, it makes him look so handsome. the price nothing compared to the pay he makes as a world champion mma fighter. 
you've known him for the better part of a year, a bit more actually. satoru met him near the end of your college career on a business whim with his father and has since made him a member of your friend group. you're not as close as you wish you could be, the immense nerves you have in fear of him even getting an inkling that you're attracted to him have always stopped you from initiating a more than necessary amount of text conversations or random phone calls. satoru could do that, you couldn't. god, you've even seen suguru have more dms with the raven haired fighter than you. even in the group chat all of you share, you can't bring yourself to connect with him aside from teaming up to tease satoru or sukuna. 
the last thing you ever conversed with him on your phone was a conversation you, surprisingly, started. he had told you about this one taco place and said you would love it based on your shared interest of food. when you told him you'd try it, he had told you, 'better send me a picture when you're there.' and you did. he had sent a laughing emoji when he asked if you liked the food and you said, 'I'd step on lime juice covered shards of glass to eat this again.'
that was the last thing you'd see in your messages between each other. 
he was close to four years older than all of you, except for sukuna, they were only a year apart. he had this endearing scar across his lip that curved so achingly whenever he smiled or grinned. he was built gorgeously, his back a sight to behold whenever you got to see him fight. and his eyes, fuck, the bright mix between grey and green always had you throwing a fit in your bed and wishing you could have him. 
nevertheless, you go back to paying attention to satoru. 
"you profit from so many other stocks satoru. that one stock is just a random occurrence."
"but the ladies won't want to go out with a guy who loses even one stock!" he looks up from where he's sprawled across the table, pouting at you.
"the fact that you're a millionaire at the age of 23 already gets enough ladies." you roll your eyes, unable to help the twitch of your lips at the sight of a little bit of drool seeping from the corner of his mouth
"it's not enough." he mutters
this time, you and sukuna share a deadpan face and you flick satoru's forehead, leaning only slightly across the table.
"yeah you're right. satoru gojo is such a loser for losing a stock, none of the girls are gonna want him now."
out of the corner of your eye, you see toji huff a little laugh at your antics, it makes your heart skip a beat a little that he finds you, even if its mostly satoru, funny.
"don't mock me!" satoru's cheeks are red as he scowls at you the best he can.
"she's not mocking." sukuna snorts, taking a swig of his beer.
"yea she is!" satoru points at you, "I never mock you about toji!"
everybody in the group stills except for satoru, who looks like he's still revved up about the subject.
much like cassie's reaction in euphoria when rue asked her how long she had been fucking nate, all you could do was nervously laugh.
"what–what are you talking about?"
you can feel your entire body starting to shake in fear. it was like you were in elementary again and some mean friend of yours was going to expose your crush on the popular boy of your grade. the fear was something you never thought you'd experience again.
"don't act stupidddd." satoru drags on, as if toji fucking zenin wasn't right next to him, "you're always talking about how bad you want toji and that ' I wish I could talk to him' bullcrap!" he says the last part in imitation of you with a high pitched voice.
suguru is staring at satoru in terror. sukuna is looking at you, in peril for you. shoko looks like she mentally checked out so she couldn't feel your embarrassment.
...and toji is staring at you, his eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, like he doesn't know what to say.
your phone is in your pocket. check. your purse is on your lap. check. satoru can pay for your tab when he comes to his senses. check.
all you can do is abruptly get up and start to dash away, ignoring the yell for you from suguru. you don't look back, pure peril and adrenaline taking over your body as you make it out of the bar as quickly as possible, thanking whatever god that you chose to wear the easiest pair of heels to walk today.
the metro, the metro, the metro.
you look around for a quick second, only taking a second to remember what way the metro was before you rush in its direction. you feel a buzz coming from your pocket when you do, and you can only figure its one of your friends, trying to get you to come back.
you ignore it and rush down the escalator to the metro, making a glance behind you and noting that nobody was behind you. thank god. however, it doesn't stop your pace and your heels click and clack you all the way to a seat on the train to your part of town. 
fuck.
your entire body feels like its on fire and melting. 
toji knows you like him.
fuck.
suguru 5 missed calls
shoko girl where did you go?
sukuna 1 missed call dude, since when do you run track
you have to stop yourself from bashing your head on the pole in front of you. shakily, you press on suguru's contact to call him. you would tell him you were going to home so he wouldn't need to worry. what's the worst that could happen by now anyway. 
"y/n? hello?"
"I'm on the train home." you breathe
"that fast?" he doesn't exclaim, he's not the type to show his surprise so blatantly like his counterpart but you can hear his concern at the fact.
"yeah." you murmur, stomach churning now that the adrenaline's worn off.
suguru sighs, "satoru is scared you're going to kill him now."
and you can hear his wails in the background. 'no she's going to come after me!' 'I need to up my security!' 'is that her on the phone?! y/n pleasseee forgive me!'
your nose scrunches in annoyance and you blurt, "I'm not going to kill you stupid idiot!"
"she says she's not going to kill you." suguru says to satoru and you can hear what you presuppose is suguru pushing the drunk fiend off of him before he continues talking to you, "about toji–"
you feel your stomach drop at the mention of the name, he's still there with them, fully aware of your feelings for him
"ah! don't wanna hear it!"
the beginning of a call to your name from suguru went ignored as you immediately pulled your phone back and pressed the little red button.
the sky had literally fallen for you and now you had to deal with the aftermath—which you weren’t doing right this second, due to what you just did to your friends, but you’d do it eventually. being an adult made sure you had to face it sometime soon. its just that toji zenin learning from satoru gojo that you had a massive crush on him had not ever been something you expected. hell you never expected him to find out in any sort of way, ever. god, he was never supposed to know.
well, your fun was over, you had to move on now. if you wanted your friend group to stay normal and go back to the way it was, the looming existence of your feelings for the world renowned fighter had to die. you could tough it through that, you could come back and say ‘i thought it over and don’t have feelings for you anymore toji so don’t worry about acting weird with me. we’re casual friends like we’ve always been.’
a particular rattle of the train had you planting your feet on the floor purposefully and waiting for it to fully stop before you got up. you were five minutes from your apartment now, the walk you started now would pass by in a flash and you’d get to wallow in your misery soon.
ordering takeout sounded nice and so did watching your favorite show, especially after a warm shower, it had been quite chilly tonight. 
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you had no room to really think about your predisposition in regards to toji zenin the next day, having to attend work then go to a work party afterwards at some high end restaurant/bar located at the top floor of a skyscraper overlooking tokyo. at work, you had to host various meetings and delegate new responsibilities you planned out the day before to your peers. it was all very hectic since it was all a completely new project. you had barely looked at your phone and even if you did, there wouldn’t be much to fret over, your friends had busy lives too. and right after, you had to head straight home and get ready for the party later that evening. 
you were sporting a tight black dress with light red flowers embellished across it later that night while you drank champagne and conversed with your coworkers. it had been a decent night so far and you had photos taken of you along with your peers, they’d probably be posted on the company website or social media. 
there had been some interesting work tea to listen in on too, your rival company was involved in it too and you were smushed against your coworkers in a red leather lined booth with dim lighting to listen in on all of it. it was more than worthy of your time by the end of it, you deemed. you would have to tell shoko and sukuna about it whenever you got the chance next time. yes, sukuna liked tea, he was an ass who loved hearing about ass things happening. 
the craving for a new glass of champagne sent you to the bar the moment the story ended, so you sat up on one of the chairs lining it while you waited for the bartender to get to you. you could see your ceo already getting shit-faced from where you were and it was funny, she always did that and always managed to get embarrassed the next time everyone saw her in the office. 
“are you part of that office party?”
a large and handsome figure suddenly appeared before you, blocking the view of your boss. he was wearing a rather expensive looking black suit with a silky blue dress shirt under, all of which couldn’t hide the obvious hard and sturdy muscles under them due to the complimentary tailoring. when you took in his face, you had to hold back the urge to widen your eyes. he was excessively good looking, with sharp and devilish features sketched across his face, intertwining hand in hand with his semi-long brown wavy hair pushed back and away from his face, save for a singular pretty strand falling near his brow and down his cheek. and that scar near his eye, it seemed so familiar…
you had to blink yourself back into reality when you realized you were taking a bit too long to answer his question. 
“yes,” you finally responded, trying your best to remain neutral and politely smile at him
he leaned against the open spot of the bar table between your seat and the empty one behind him, one hand in his pocket as he smiled down at you, “you’re very beautiful.”
your spit got caught in your throat at the blatant admission, this time unable to hide the way your head reeled back a little and started sporting a rising heat on your cheeks in slight shock, “oh–i–thank you.”
his smile grew wider at your flustered state and he reached a hand out for you to shake, “aizen sosuke.”
so at to remain polite, you shook his hand and repeated your name back to him in return for his, but in reality your head was falling in on itself
him.
fuck.
that’s aizen sosuke, the other world renowned mma fighter that you were very aware of due to his competitive nature and rivalry with toji. as far as you were aware, toji absolutely hated him, and you were sure aizen did too. anytime the rivalry came up into the conversation you saw toji’s eyes darken and his posture straighten in seething hate for the man. if satoru felt like getting on his nerves, as he did with everyone, he always knew to mention the tall brunette to get a visceral reaction out of him. it was bad. wait–
they have a fight tomorrow.
oh god, this was all types of fucked up. you've been pining after toji this whole year and he just found out yesterday and now you're talking to his rival who's very obviously flirting with you.
...but he was aizen sosuke, aside from that, and he just called you beautiful.
“is there any particular celebration happening?” he tilted his head to the side a little in curiosity 
“no, not this time,” you breathed, trying to shake the nerves off, “my boss just likes to treat us frequently and…well herself.”
“is that the only occasion where you get treated as of late?”
suave
and you can’t help the small knowing smile starting to creep up your lips, “as of late, yes, although she mostly does it in drinks.”
“dinner isn’t often?” he leans a little closer, his lips quirking up a little
“no,” you shake your head, aware of the way your eyes are smiling back at him too.
“allow me to treat you then,” he says confidently, watching as the bartender slides you your champagne
“In exchange for…?” you quirk a brow up at him as you take a sip
“what are you willing to give?” he bites back with a canine smile, still looming over you and infringing himself a little into your space even.
“nothing.” you snark back smoothly, pressing a finger into the middle expanse of his chest. he’s really sturdy, you note before continuing, “dinner with me should be a prize enough.”
he laughs at your response handsomely, reeling away from your space in accordance with the finger of yours pushing him away, “i’ll pay for everything. hell, send me the receipt for your outfit if you feel like it. i’m sure some sort of gratitude will overcome you.”
“ravenous,” you tut your glass in his direction, “i’ll politely decline then mr sosuke.”
“you haven’t even allowed yourself to grace over the thought of spending a night in my sheets,” he’s leaned down to speak so sensually next to your ear, “if your line of work is a stress, i can make you forget all about it.”
“i’ve allowed myself to grace it,” you speak back lowly, matching his game, “and i can only see you adding onto my stress by the end of it.”
“you’re oddly confident about that,” he smiles deviously, turning his head so that you’re face to face with him, “i aim to please, if any.”
“to please?” you question in haughty disbelief, squinting your eyes playfully at him
“to please,” he’s still smiling, eyes fleeting to your lips for a second, “i could relay the details if you’d like.”
“that’s unecessary,” you laugh at his boldness, turning your head away from his, “but it’s not something i’m interested in. im only looking for stability right now.”
“how unfortunate for the both of us tonight then,” he retreats back into his space before reaching into his pocket and taking out his phone, then splaying it out in his hand for you to take, “at least leave me your number. i can be capable of stability for the right woman.”
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you feel your phone buzzing erratically that night, when you’ve washed away the night’s events and lay comfortably in your bed with a glass of water cradled to you. upon first looking at your messages, you were greeted by a paparazzi picture of you, courtesy screenshot from gojo, and aizen speaking at the bar. it was one of you smiling and looking up and him while he was leaning down, face inches away from yours as he returned your toothy grin.
satoru img_736 ?????? is that aizen sosuke?! dude are you fucking him rn
sukuna  take one of his trophy belts when you come back home
shoko lol he looks hot in blue
suguru  satoru, aren’t you supposed to be on your flight back from dubai right now?
satoru first class has excellent cell service ha and y/n hasn’t answered aizen def has his hands busy rn
shoko it’s only been five minutes since you sent that picture plus she’s at her work party, i think. she probably just met him there
satoru who cares bud looks like he’s ready to pounce 
sukuna heard he likes bdsm shit
satoru send pics of his paddle lol y/n
suguru both of you are despicable
shoko let us know if he has good stamina
suguru the three of you
all those messages had been sent ten minutes ago and you gaped at your friends’ mischief
y/n  I AM NOT WARMING AIZEN SOSUKE’S BED RN!
satoru liar, he’s in your mouth rn isn’t he
y/n  literally shut up toru i’m in my bed. no aizen near
sukuna  sure you are you looked real horned up smiling at him in the pics
y/n LMAO  he was a little funny ok, i couldn’t help laughing
shoko oh he was funny hm
suguru  actually worried a little at that statement wdym he was a little funny
y/n im going to crucify all of you he tried getting me to warm his bed and was very smooth abt it, but i said no gave him my number though :p since he asked for it
satoru was that before or after he told you you have great boobs img_737 could not have been more obvious about it
the stupid texts from your friend had you laughing out loud and setting down your glass of water on your bedside table before you pressed on the microphone button and sent a loud, giggly voice message for emphasis of your previous point.
“I didn’t fuck aizen! and he didn’t need to tell me i have great boobs, i saw him staring at them the entire time.”
sukuna you are not living this down if we see hickeys on you tomorrow
satoru what he said ^^
and there came the realization, 
toji and aizen’s fight was tomorrow
and all of you always showed up to toji’s fights ever since you befriended him
hell, fuck, you hadn’t even remembered he was in this group chat too. fuck fuck fuck. was this good? was this bad? he hadn’t said anything and he never really took too long to answer sometimes. no, this was the night before a fight, he’s probably already knocked out right now considering the late hour. but still, what of when he woke up to the messages tomorrow? would this help ease the knowledge of your being into him? oh she’s already flirting with some guy she’s not into me as much as a i thought so i dont feel as awkward around her anymore. but what if he thought you were doing this purposefully to get a reaction out of him and that you were so obsessed with him, you did it for that sole reason. you didn’t even want to come to the fight anymore. could you get out of it somehow? no, stupid satoru knows you’re free tomorrow and that would add more drama to your ‘up and dash’ incident from the bar yesterday night. 
you turned around and flailed on your bed, screaming into your pillow in the process.
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regrettably, you show up to toji’s fight the following afternoon, trying your best to suppress the notion that aside from having to be near toji later, that aizen was going to see you too, and that whole ordeal would be something different entirely for you to deal with.
you dressed pretty well, you always did, but you added a little more effort than the usual when picking your outfit for the day. it was ufc fight night worthy and showed a generous amount of skin, the pictures you would upload later that night to instagram would be amazing. 
sukuna snickered when he saw you, pulling you in for a quick friendly hug as he said, “wanted zenin to see that you really didn’t fuck sosuke?”
you gaped at him and held back a smile as you smacked him with your purse, “i will hurt you ‘kuna.”
“try me, idiot,” he bites back with a snarky smile before sinking into one of the cage-side seats toji always managed to get for you guys. you had already said hi to the rest of your friends before getting to him and all felt normal until that dumbass made his dumb comment about your crush on toji. satoru, had of course, without a doubt, inspected you for hickeys and love bites immediately upon your arrival and had given you a suspicious look, as if to say, ‘you got away with it this time.’ he was always ridiculous like that, trying to cling onto random drama, even if he gaslit himself, all for his own fun. 
“i really did not expect to meet him last night at the bar,” you sighed after you sat down, taking in the bustling crowds of people gathering in the arena with him
“fuckin hilarous,” he all but barks evilly in amusement at your predicament before taking a swig of his beer, “paparazzi is gonna have a field day thinking you’re aizen’s girl now that you’re here.”
“WAIT!” 
you immediately sit upright at the realization and turn your body towards sukuna, jaw hung open and eyes wide in panic.
“holy shit. what the fuck.” you start having an existensial crisis and sukuna, the great friend he is starts snickering at your dilemma, finding humor in your panicked expression
“go sit near his side of the arena,” he jeers, “there’s some open seats.”
you run your hands down your face, stressed, “i thought the worst i had to deal with would be aizen seeing me here.”
“still is,” sukuna is still smirking at you evilly, “everything is shit about your day today.”
and then the lights dim and sporadic blue lights start sparkling across the arena
“get ready to say hi to your boyfriends,” sukuna teases with a canine grin before leaning over to see who would do their walkout first.
and it’s toji first.
he’s so beautiful and rugged, wearing skin tight black shorts that highlight every muscle underneath them and his eyes are glowing so pretty against the fluroscents, even if he has a murderous look on them right now. his staff are behind him as he walks through the arena, and looking at them almost distracts you from the way toji holds you in a cutthroat stare the moment he spots you, and only you.
you can hear satoru’s sly voice saying from near you, “nice.”
too scared to look away from toji, you can only speak to your friends without turning to address them, “why is toji giving me a death stare?”
“cause you fucked aizen,” satoru’s teasing lilt jeers
“yeah,” shoko agrees
“i did not fuck aizen,” you bite through gritted teeth as toji walks into the fighting cage, eyes still on you.
“tell that to him,” sukuna snickers
“don’t think about it too much,” suguru tries to comfort
then the lights starts blaring furiously again and aizen’s presence is announced throughout the entire arena. and you were really right about that suit being unable to hide those muscles, because without any clothing over them…they were enormous and mouth-watering.
all of you watch as he, accompanied by his staff too, walks to the cage, handsome smirk planted on his face. 
“would you look at that,” satoru starts, “he doesn’t have your scratch marks all over his back.”
“ha ha,” you sarcastically mutter back when aizen enters the cage and he situates himself in his side, taking in his surroundings, like those sitting in the cage side seats.
like you.
you know he’s spotted you because of the way his eyebrows raise in surprise and the wolfish smile that starts forming on his face the moment you make eye contact. and you know toji’s noticed too because of the way he turns to you too and keeps looking between you and the fighter in front of him.
satoru whistles while sukuna howls, both leaning down to elbow you from either side much to your annoyance
“scratch the paparazzi thinking youre here for aizen being the worst thing capable of happening today,” satoru sighs haughtily, “if toji loses, you’re in for it.”
you spin your head to him, panicked, “what?! is he gonna stop being my friend?!”
satoru shrugs, nonchalant, “don’t know, just keep watching sweetheart.”
so you did and it was unnerving.
when the fight started and toji and aizen started squaring up against each other, you could see aizen start speaking to him. his mouth was moving a little and a smile crept up on it when he jeered his chin in your direction, all of which you saw toji answer back with what looked like single word short answers and a sneer on his face.
“wonder what they’re talking about,” suguru questioned softly
“i have a small idea,” satoru said under his breath before toji threw the first punch and the chaos ensued.
the fight consisted of a lot of hisses and ows coming from everyone, including you, in the arena. toji and aizen were really putting in the work to beat the crap out of each other. ten minutes had passed and toji was already bleeding from his mouth and aizen had blood falling down his nose. both of their bodies were beat too, red splotches blossoming all over them as a reaction to the various kicks and punches both of them sent to each other. 
however it looked like it was reaching its cusp when aizen got toji in a headlock and muttered something while looking at you. 
which must have given toji enough energy to quickly peel himself off and knock his face in a couple of times. and when aizen stood up straight after it to counter, he was bleeding profusely from his mouth and smiled so devilshly at you before wandering into toji’s space again. 
“hot,” shoko commented while gnawing on a toothpick
and that continued, the smiles at you from him, with his questionably hot bleeding mouth while he sported a beating from toji or gave it to him. but it started dying down when toji actually started knocking him in so close to his own victory. and there wasn’t much aizen could do until toji pinned him down and forced him into submission,
all while aizen stared at you and even had the gall to wink while his loss was announced
satoru whistled again, “the balls on this guy. surprised you aren’t soaked right now.”
people were starting to filter out when the winner and loser were officially announced and were beginning to get escorted back to their locker rooms.
“come on,” sukuna muttered as he drank the last of his beer and got up with the rest of you to go to toji’s room.
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when all of you are rushed into toji’s locker room, you somehow wound up standing next to him, where he’s seated on a bench and wiping the blood off his face with a hand towel.
“congrats,” you mumble, along with the others
“what’d he say to you during the fight,” leered satoru, both of his hands in his pockets and his shades over his eyes again now that he doesn’t have to watch the fight.
“none of your business,” muttered toji after wiping his face again, “where’s my fucking water?”
“here sir, here,” one of his goonies said while weaving through the people in the room and nervously handing him a water bottle
“thanks,” he huffs with a small glare before opening the bottle and starting to chug from it
“who do you fight after this,” sukuna asks
toji shrugs and looks towards his manager, who then starts to explain the next sequence of events after this win. and it lasts for thirty minutes before everyone falls quiet and toji gets up abruptly
“alright, get out. ‘m gonna change,” he all but demands for everyone to leave ominously
and you listen to his words, letting the half closest to the door start to filter out before you make to move your feet and suddenly toji’s holding onto your arm.
“where do you think you’re going?” he huffs when the last person leaves the room and the door clicks shut
you feel like a deer caught in headlights and feel yourself start to grow nervous, “outside…to let you change?”
“you gonna fuck him?”
and you gaslight yourself into pretending you don’t know what he’s talking about, “who?”
he deadpans at you with bored and almost annoyed green eyes and you have to look away from him when you murmur, “no…i don’t know. listen, me having a thing for you isn’t that serious and if i entertain aizen it isn’t so you can finally notice me or something, i just–”
“when the fuck did i say i never noticed you before?”
your eyes widen and you didn’t know what to say
“what? you think it’s so easy for me to try and talk to your dumbass too?” he pulls you closer by the arm he’s already holding, scowl etched across his face
“what,” is the only thing you can get out in your nerves
toji glares at you, “when silver spoon said you wish you could talk to me, did it ever cross your smartass that i don’t know how to talk to you either?”
“no,” you let out meekly, struggling to make eye contact with him and feeling your heart rate go up by a million beats per minute
“so,” toji tugs on your arm again, “are you gonna fuck him?”
you look away to a locker near when you mumble, “do you not want me to?”
“no, i fucking don’t.”
“then i won’t.”
“great,” he lets go of you and now centers himself to stand in front of you, quirking a brow up when he asks, “you gonna let me take you out on a date?”
you have to fight the urge to fiddle with your hands as you look back up at him, “when?”
“tonight.”
“shouldn’t you rest after a fight!?” your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets, pupils darting to the blood staining his lips
“not if i don’t feel like it,” he shrugs, before gaining a threatening aura, “or do you wanna bite the bullet and get lunch right now? you won’t have time to get a pretty dress on.”
panicked at his suggestion, you mindlessly put your hands against his chest and plead, “no! tonight is fine, tonight is fine!”
“thought so,” he huffs back at you, corners of his mouth quirking up a little 
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and put on a pretty dress you did, a red sultry one that teetered between innocence and sex. it had toji staring you down as you took the unfathombly large bouquet of flowers he brought for you from his arms and set it on your kitchen island.
“where are we going?” you turned to look at him while he drove you to whatever destination he had in mind for tonight, playing with the metal clasp of your handbag
toji had been leaned against the driver side door of his car, with one hand holding onto his chin while the other steered, he seemed oddly pensive.
“allen’s,” he gruffly swallowed before straightening up and putting both of his hands on the steering wheel. you weren’t surprised by the mention of the michelin star restaurant, he could afford it and had the status for it anyways
so you couldn’t help but speak, “are you nervous?”
his entire body tensed visibly and his eyes slightly widened, glancing at you for a half second before looking back at the road and relaxing, “what do you think smartass?”
a smile crept its way onto your face, “well i am too.”
“you gonna run away again?” he side eyed you with a slight gleam of mischief
your face flushed and your mouth gaped, turning to look at the road too now instead of at him, crossing your arms as you huffed, “what else was i supposed to do? not like you had anything to say either, had your mouth open like a fish when i got exposed…”
“least i didn’t run,” he huffed back
“well you didnt try to contact me after,” you sasssed, sensing his growing irritation
“you’re a real pain in my ass,” he glared at you, “you know that right?”
“and you’re not acting like the guy who just won a fight earlier today.”
toji had just parked outside the restaurant and splayed his hands across the steering wheel, trying to control his breathing from what you could tell. 
“i didn’t know what to say, okay negative nancy?” he finally turned to you, green eyes striking under the night sky and neon lights from the restaurant name shining through, “and then when i was going to call your pretty ass the next day, i saw the pictures of fuck face raw dogging you at the bar.”
“he didn’t fuck me,” you whined in complaint as you splayed yourself across the center console of his car and batted your scorned eyes at him, “how many times do i have to tell you guys?”
“well you were real close to,” he smirked at you before something serious fell across his features and his eyes darted to your handbag, “matter a fact, block his number right now.”
your head perked up at the demand and you blinked at him, “i dont have his number.”
toji squinted his eyes at you, “you said you gave him your number in the group chat.”
“yeah but he hasn’t called me or anything, so i never got his.”
the ravenette rolled his eyes, taking his keys out of the ignition and pointing at you with them, “when he does, you better fucking block him.”
“i will,” you nod obediently, watching as he starts to get out of the car
you move to take off your seat belt and he leans back into the vehicle with a warning look, “i’ll unbuckle it, don’t move.”
and he does, closing the door of his side before walking over to you and opening the door to kneel in and take off your seat belt, then giving you a helping hand to get out.
“thank you,” you murmur appreciatively as you watch your step before landing a quick kiss to his cheek. and if it affected him, you wouldn’t know, he said nothing and held onto your arm softly while he guided the both of you to the restaurant entrance.
“you look hot by the way,” he breathed out before opening the door and entering with you, giving you no chance to respond when the hostess immediately greeted the both of you and began to lead you to a table.
it was intimate, the table. it was small and dainty, relatively little space would be between you and the gruff fighter. and both of your seats were at the same corner of the table, making the distance shorter than it would have been sitting across from each other. 
toji instinctively pulled out your chair for you and muttered out a sound of acknowledgement when you thanked him as he sat down. 
“you gonna drink?” he quirked a brow at you, gesturing towards the menu of alcohol planted right in front of the both of you
“a little red wine sounds nice,” you try to say politely, “you?”
“nah,” he responds while raising a hand for a waiter to come by, “i need to drive you home. you like sweet or bitter wine?”
“sweet.”
and so he orders a wine for you to drink right off the bat, saying a thank you as the waiter walks away to get the bottle.
“does your mouth hurt?”
toji hums mindlessly, as if his head had been somewhere else before he perks up again and says, “come again sweetheart?”
the pet name had you a little fluststered in speaking again, feeling your body grow hot as you gestured to his mouth meekly, “your mouth, it was bleeding after the fight, does it still hurt?”
the corners of his mouth start to rise as he encroaches into your space, eyes lusty, “nothing a little kiss won’t make better.” 
your breath hitches and you feel like pushing him away to hide how easily he’s affected you, “you’re shameless.”
toji is inches away from your face now, and he tilts his head in fake hurt, “i took those punches from the lowlife trying to steal my girl away, doesn’t that mean i deserve a reward?”
you try to keep your face serious as you deadpan, willing your need to laugh away as best you can, “your girl?”
“my girl,” toji grins sleazily 
you’re about to bite back when the waiter comes back with the bottle of wine toji ordered for you and the menus for tonight’s dinner. toji takes the bottle from the waiter and insists on serving you your glass himself while you begin to look at the menu. choosing a meal was difficult with all the delicious options available, every description making your mouth water, you wanted everything. when you complained to toji about not knowing what to get because of all the options, he brushed you off while still reading his menu.
“get whatever you want, we can come again and again until you try everything.”
well that’s one way to make you horny
so you settled for these sauteed calamari rings with a savory sounding sauce while toji got a steak under the pretense that ‘i need to stock up on protein after fights.’
while the both of you eat, good conversation comes up and the previous tense awkwardness of the both of you goes away.
“i haven’t dated anyone since my sophomore year of college,” you say while taking a sip of wine to wash down a bite of calamari
toji quirks up a brow in disbelief at your statement while he takes a sip of his water, a scowl almost, as if he’s offended for you, “what about that emo lookin kid—“
you tilt your head in confusion, not being able to pinpoint who he’s talking about, “emo?”
toji rolls his eyes, snapping his fingers at himself, “that kid, can’t even remember his name, with the blue hair, you know–“
“grimmjow?!” you gape, eyebrows knit
“yea that fucker,” toji nods before he takes a bite of his steak
“I never even got to have a thing with grimmjow,” you deadpan, swiveling the glass of wine in your hand, “we kissed like once and then he told me he wasn’t ready for anything the next day.”
“silver spoon made it seem like you guys fucked.”
you sigh in agonizing pain that your white haired freak best friend loves to say you fuck frequently, “satoru says that because he feels my dry spell more than me. horny ass. he wishes i could get laid.”
“what,” toji snickers, “haven’t fucked in a year or something?”
this was going to be a pain
“three years,” you clarify, staring at him with bored eyes because you know you’re going to get a reaction because of this, “with my ex was the last time. and i lost it to him.”
toji eyebrows immediately raise and he looks at you like you’re insane, “you’re lying.”
“don’t you think id rather say i just got laid two weeks ago or something?” you quizically ask him
“well yeah,” he scoffs, “but i'd rather you not at that point.”
you knowingly squint your eyes at him, jabbing a fork of calamari, “why’s that?”
and you laugh when toji drops his napkin back onto his lap very done with you and blankly stares you down.
“how long have you liked me anyway,” you continue, hoping and praying on the small chance that toji pined for you as much you did for him so that you didn’t feel as pathetic
he stays quiet for a bit, as if he didn’t hear you, and you feel embarrassed that you’re about to repeat himself until he looks up from his meal and says, “ever since business boy posted a picture of you before i got the chance to meet all of you.”
hoping and praying did you well
you had to physically stop yourself from giggling like a schoolgirl by holding your hands in fists under the table, “and..why did you never make a move?”
“i thought you had a crush on sukuna for a good four months,” he shrugged and if you were seeing right, there was a pink hue dusting the tips of his ears, “after i figured out you didn’t, i pussied out because i didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”
then his eyes fixated on you, “what about you huh?”
you felt yourself growing small in your seat, beginning to play with the ends of your dress, “well, when we met and you told lent me your jacket because my cardigan was thin…”
“both of us have been idiots this entire year huh,” toji joked, laughing at himself and you
“yeah,” you meekly agreed, taking a woeful gulp of wine until you came to a realization, “wait, is that why sukuna thought you didn’t like him for the first few months of knowing him?!”
“i have no idea what you’re talking about,” the fighter grunted, looking to the side as he drank another gulp of water
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by the time your date with toji ended you were as happy as could be, having felt fulfilled that yes you were on a date with your long time crush, but that you were also very compatible and had amazing chemistry. you kissed briefly, outside the restaurant when your heel got caught on a pebble and he held you upright so as to stop you from falling. you pulled him in for it to thank him and he held onto your waist so fucking well, the fact that his hand was almost the same size as your back was dizzying. 
he had asked for another date the following afternoon for brunch with him and you couldn’t deny, wanting to spend more time with him. you were telling satoru this on the phone before he said…
“so when are you guys getting it on?”
if you could, you’d throw something at him through the phone right now.
“you are such a pervert!”
“i am not,” satoru defends, “okay maybe a little, ha. but in all honesty when are you two going to rip off the bandaid? it’s not like you’re strangers and you have to do that awkward period of oh im respecting your space crap. oh my god, does he know you’ve never gotten head?”
your cheeks flush hot, “no.”
“this is hilarious,” satoru jeers, “try to last longer than two seconds when he eats it.”
you sprawl across your bed and almost scream, “stop, because im going to be really embarrassed if that happens!”
“i think it’d be a miracle if it didn’t happen,” you can hear the millionaire open another candy wrapper before stuffing the sweet into his mouth, “so when are you sealing the deal?”
“when even is the appropriate time?” you gaze at your ceiling, feeling hot all over your body and embarrassed that you’re talking to your friend about having sex with one of your other friends
“personally, i think he would’ve done it by tonight already.”
“you think?”
“he looks at your boobs when you aren’t looking.”
“what?! why didnt you tell me this before?” you sit upright in your bed
“him wanting to fuck you is obvious, i just didn’t know if he liked you, so i kept it to myself.”
“unfair,” you huff, falling back into your comforter, staring at the ceiling in silence until you felt your phone beginning to vibrate
pending call - toji
“toru, ill catch up with you some other time, toji’s calling me,” you usher out and immediately accept the incoming call before the snow haired devil can say something cheesy.
“hi,” you breathe out
“hey,” toji’s gruff voice responds through the small speaker, “how are you feelin?”
“about the food or you?” you tease
“both.”
“wish i could’ve eaten some of that peach cobbler the couple next to us ordered,” you fluff up a pillow behind you, wondering if you should go forward with a thought before you think fuck it, and say, “wish i could’ve kissed you more.”
“i can get you both angel.”
“what are you doing?”
“just put some patches on my back, ‘s sore,” theres a moment of silence before he quips, “was thinking about you.”
“me too,” you sigh, hoping he can’t hear how dreamy you unintentionally sounded
“what about me?” you can hear the smirk in his voice
and you indulge him a little, just to fuck with him, “how big your hands are.”
“you like ‘em?”
“mhm, they looked nice with the bruises on them too.”
“ ‘s that why you kept holding onto them?”
“maybe,” you watch as you kick your feet up in the air, finding something to exert your energy 
“yours are soft,” he breathes, “i like it.”
“you know what else is soft?”
“what?” you can hear his energy shift
“my hair, i use really good conditioner and product.”
“fuckin tease.”
you turned around in your bed to hold your head in one of your hands, “what ever do you mean by that toji?”
“you always pull shit like this and you know it. you made me think i forgot your birthday last week.”
you laugh at his offense, noting that you did get a good scare out of him last week when you pretended he said your birthday wrong, “okay that was a one time thing though.”
“and then you told me the chinese restaurant i sent you to had shitty lomein.”
he had recommened the restaurant to you last month based on the premise that the lomein was good as hell and that you’d like it. you didn’t think he’d fall for it, but you told him it was crap just to fuck with him and he couldn’t function for a minute. 
“okay okay maybe i do pull shit like that every once in a while,” you digress
“every once in a while…” the scowl on toji’s face is quite loud when he responds
“every once in a while,” you punctuate with a sing songy voice
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after your brunch date with toji the following day, he took you vase shopping because when he showed up at your place to pick you up he had another very large bouquet of flowers in his hands for you. and unfortunately, you couldn’t even fit all the flowers from the night before into the three vases you had. 
he took you to a high end home furniture store that you were pretty sure millionaires only shopped in, your theory being proven when a rug you passed by was the exact same one satoru kept in his apartment and shamelessly replaced when shoko got red wine on it. 
“woah,” you say when you get to the vase section, “this is way different than the ones at ikea.”
“see anything you like?” toji moves to stand next to you while you take in the vast number of beautiful vases in front of you
and at first you think you have nothing to say, unable to pick from all the beauties in splayed out for you, until your eyes spot a pretty almost seashell shaped vase, with defining ridges, colored gold, it was beautiful and you wouldn’t mind a number of those decorating your apartment. 
“i like this one,” you murmur as you walk up to it, noticing the slight iridescent shimmers on it
you can see toji raise his hand and make some sort of mannerism towards someone, you assume a worker, out of the corner of your eye after you say that. 
which led to the predicament of accompanying toji into your apartment numerous times as he carried the multiple boxes carrying the same vase into your apartment. you weren’t allowed to, he had demanded. he even eyed you threatningly when you made to pick up your own box to take with him. 
by the time he had brought in the last box you were very antsy, trying to find something to do in return for him like offer a water or food, or what fucking ever, just anything in exchange for his buying you multiple luxury vases and carrying them into your apartment. 
“i did that shit because i like you and i think you deserve it,” toji huffed, eyeing you pointedly while he accepted the glass of water you had offered him, “don’t get all weird.”
“okay…” you nervously looked to the side as you traced invisible lines across your kitchen island, “at least sit for a while before we have to unpack them and put the flowers in them. please?”
the tall and buff fighter let your small and nimble hands drag him to your couch by the arm and then guide him to sit on it, with you following after.
“I was watching grey’s anatomy before you came over,” you start, looking at him earnestly, “do you wanna watch some with me?”
toji set the glass of water on your coffee table then splayed his arm behind you on the couch and nodded, “go for it.”
“okay,” you smiled lightly then, much to his obvious surprise, crawled over him and reached for the remote next to him, tucked into the corner of the couch just a little, then went back to your original spot next to him.
your eyes were focused on opening netflix when he spoke, “is that the uh–the show with the doctors and crap?”
you pressed play when you set the remote off to the side and leaned more into his space, “yeah! it’s a little cheesy, but it’s fun to watch, at least before a certain season. after that it just goes downhill.”
“alright,” the ravenette said, leaning closer to your space too
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“glow in the dark,” toji exhales a light laugh at the mention of glow in the dark condoms
“ever tried those?” you look up at him from where you’re tucked underneath his arm, hand splayed across his chest and abdomen area
“never knew they were a thing,” he smirks, “you?”
“i don’t even know what head’s like,” you roll your eyes, “as if i would’ve gotten to the exploration stage of fucking.”
you can see toji visibly stiffen at your comment
“what?”
“there’s no way in hell that fucker didn’t eat you out,” he’s sat up straighter now, eyes pining you under his gaze
“well there is a way in hell,” you move your hands as if to gesture ‘it is what it is’, “he didn’t like the taste.”
“what, he got a wonder dick or something?” he looked annoyed, “that do the job?”
“i did not ever orgasm, so no,” you laugh, finding it funny how pissed he’s getting on your part, “why are you so pissy for me zenin?”
he gives you one glance before looking forward at the tv to avoid your gaze, sighing a little, “it’s stupid, is all.”
“me not getting head?” you’re still staring at him even though he’s watching george and alex bicker on the tv
“yeah,” he nods
and satoru’s words play through your mind again, ‘personally, i think he would’ve done it by tonight already.’
but you shake the thought away before you start something stupid and reassume your cuddling position next to toji, watching as it gets revealed that the neurosurgeon lover has a wife already. the previous piece of information making toji uncharacteristically scrunch his nose and look as if he wants to spit at the screen. 
“what,” he looks at you, eyes waiting in earnest for the next episode, “that the end? start the next one.”
“are you sure,” you giggle at his sudden interest in the soap opera.
toji sinks into his spot on the couch, bringing you closer to him with a hand on the skin just above your knee, “yeah, play it.”
while you take the remote to start the new season, you laugh, then place it down before leaning up and placing a chaste kiss on the fighter’s lips, “you’re cute.”
he gives you a bored look, obvious in expressing that cute is not something he wants to be described as, but you can also feel the grip he has on you twitch for a second. 
“what?” you smile, “can i not call you cute?”
“can’t you find something better?” he says, trying not to roll his eyes
“not when you’re acting cute,” you sit up a little and grab his face to place a kiss on his forehead, then his nose, which scrunches up cutely at the action. you can see toji try to chase your lips just the slightest when he sees your mouth fall away from his nose and wander so close to his mouth. you use the observation to tease him, making it look as if the next destination was his lips until you go further down and land a peck on his chin. 
toji’s had enough of it, it seems, when he swoops a hand under your jaw and near your neck and guides you to his own mouth. he's soft about it, simply trying to taste your lips and memorize the feeling of your lips on his, until–you dont know who–one of you takes a sensual turn and makes it much more intense than need be. although unable to find the culprit of before, you can say that toji’s first in sliding his tongue into your mouth moments after. he does it slowly, flicking the muscle to tease at your own before retreating, as if waiting for yours to give the same response and you do, shyly dipping yours in to lick across his tongue. almost like he lured you in, he intertwines his muscle with yours upon the interaction and you can’t help the small high pitched moan that escapes you. 
on some sort of instinct, toji uses the hand on your knee to hook it under his grasp and guide you to his lap, planting you thigh to thigh on top of him. your hands, having forgotten what to do in these situations, awkwardly place themselves on his chest, shakily feeling the hardness of his chest underneath them. he grabs onto one of them, caressing the skin of it, while his other hand finds comfort in your waist. 
a second moan makes it way out of your throat and toji’s hips buckle up subconsciously, which makes you gasp into his searing kisses. the action has you noting that he’s hard underneath you and the exact size of him is a curiosity to you, the thought making you reach a hand down to hold him. 
he’s big, an ‘it’s going to hurt’ kind of big. 
“don’t…” he grunts out, letting go of the hand holding onto his chest and reaching down to take off the one holding his length, “touch unless you’re ready.”
“i’m ready,” you shift your hips atop of him and being forced to look at him when he pulls away from the kiss, lips pink and splotched and his pupils blown out.
“I can wait,” he says, trying to control his breathing, the expanse of his chest rising and falling so controlled even though the look in his eyes says otherwise, “don’t worry about me, if that’s it.”
“well I can’t,” you tug at one of the buttons of his shirt for emphasis, then guide one of his hands underneath your skin and near your inner thighs, “feel me.”
slowly and hesitantly, toji moves his hand onto your panties and runs a finger across the excessively damp wet spot of them.
“fuckin tease,” he groans at the touch, sliding his finger across again and again, earning mewl after mewl from you
“do you want me?” you shyly pant as you hold onto his free arm, fighting the need to put your head in his shoulders
“yeah, i fucking want you,” toji growls as he pushes you onto his chest by a hand on your back
he maintains eye contact with you when his hand pushes your panties out of the way and immediately slips a finger into your heat. the pressure of his gaze turns feral when your eyebrows knit and a loud moan leaves your lips.
for some reason, trying to excuse the loud reactions he’s about to get from you, you heave, worried, “i—i haven’t done this in a long time and–oh mmmm–i won’t be able to help myself.”
“think i care?” he huffs, concentrating on you when he slips a second finger inside and curls them both curiously to find your spot, which he does, smirking a little when your hold on him grows tighter and your hips wiggle at the pleasure, “scream all you want princess.”
he starts jutting in his fingers quickly in and out of you after the words leave his mouth, and the stretch is so good, so unlike your small hands that haven’t been able to do crap for years, that you start squealing and hug toji in by the back of his neck and shoulders.
“there you go, there you go baby,” he coos, smiling a little at the cute sounds you’re making and relishing in the squelch of your pussy while his fingers abuse it. 
“wait–wait–” you heave, beginning to push him away, even though the advance is useless due to his iron grip and try to explain an embarrassing admission so as to warn him, “i feel like im gonna–”
he gives you no chance to finish your sentence when he punches in a third finger and makes you nearly scream.
“what?” he breathes, lusty eyes boring into your own, “you gonna cum?”
“no–”you shake your head, trying your best to still relay your message even though you can feel your orgasm taking its final steps near, “well yeah–but–but–”
your stomach starts dropping and toji picks up his pace so brashly that you release almost instantaneously all over him. your legs twitch uncontrollably and you bury your face into his neck while squealing through the feeling.
“shit.” he utters, still fingering you through it, “fuck, fuck.”
“i squirt,” you almost cry, embarrassed and shaken up by your orgasm, unable to look at him, “i’m sorry, i tried to tell–”
“shut up,” toji spanks your pussy and doesn’t care when you yelp as he throws you with your back on the couch and starts to tug your panties off, “you’re gonna do it again.”
submitting to him, you shimmy out of your dress nervously while he hastily undoes the buttons of his dress shirt. the burly fighter drags you, so your legs dangle off the couch before he kneels down and places his hands underneath your thighs to spread you out for him
“look at me when i eat you,” toji pinches your clit to get your full attention on his face, “don’t close your eyes or look at the ceiling, none of that shit. got that?”
you nod your head impishly, hesitantly putting a hand on your stomach, itching to hold onto his face or his hair. 
his eyes drift to your sex and you can see a hint of irritation paint itself across his features when he mutters under his breath, “didn’t like the taste my ass.”
within milliseconds, toji saves no mercy and starts to eat you out like a man starved. his mouth is hot and wet, and you don’t know where the mess is coming from, his lips or yours. the man spits onto your pussy and so sloppily makes out with your sticky heat, interchanging between that and sucking so harsly against your clit. 
your legs are twitching so wildly and the only thing keeping you from scrambling away is toji’s hands that are now wrapped around your thighs to keep you pressed against him. 
you’re basically screaming now, in utter bliss from the heavenly feeling, unable to speak. 
his eyes keep looking up to bore into yours all while he aggressively kisses your pussy. it has your breath picking up rapidly and goosebumps rising all across your skin. his tongue laps across your lips so foreign yet so deliciously that you can’t help the increasing reach of your orgasm.
“I'm close!” you squeal after a particular suck of your clit, thinking that he needs to heed to the warning because you’re so sure you’re about to squirt on his face
all toji does in response is growl and let go of one of your thighs to start fingering you with two digits rapidly.
he stares you down while you struggle to keep the eye contact, your whole body beginning to twitch uncontrollably and your vision starting to see white until the invisible cord snaps and you feel an immense relief wash over you–and him.
the juices seeping from you seem to spur him on and he doesn’t move in any sort of way to avoid them, instead choosing to lap at them and drink it in all while making growls and groans of satisfaction. 
he’s still going at it when you come to, and you start shuffling away–well try to–from him, yelping, “it’s sensitive toji!”
he seemingly listens to you after a few seconds, running his tongue flat against your folds before he lifts his face from you. the entire lower half of his face is covered in your juices and his spit and he looks outright animalistic as he looks back at you. 
he gets up and stalks towards you until he’s on top of your body and dives down to kiss you aggressively, making you taste yourself in the process. it’s so erotic, it has your pussy fluttering all over again. 
“fuck,” he groans deeply into your mouth, “you don’t have any condoms right doll?”
you shake your head a little, but you wrap your arms around his shoulders and offer something else, “i’m on the pill…so i don’t really mind…”
you can feel his breath hitch and you’re quick to add, “but! if you’re not comfortable without one–”
“you fine with me blowing a load in you?” he mutters and seizes the chance to nip at your bottom lip
“i wanna feel it,” you admit, glad he’s still kissing you so he doesn’t see the flustered look on your face.
“dirty fucking angel,” he says heavily against your mouth before he gets up to undo his belt buckle and push both his pants and briefs in one motion.
he doesn’t even really spring up free like you expected him to. his dick is so hung that well, it hangs. the size looks bigger than what you predicted already when you touched it earlier. your ex, the only person you’ve had sex with, was the stark opposite of this, easy to fiddle with and well below average. the difference of having toji’s thick length right in front of you now had you clenching around nothing. 
“you like it?” toji smirks at you while he goes up to you again and moves you so that you’re completely laying across the couch before he climbs up on top of you between your legs.
“mhm,” you nod, looking down and hoping his tip can at least graze your folds while it bobs down near your inner thigh and that’s when you get an idea.
“can we–” you almost hesitate, “can we do a mating press?”
“was planning on it,” he says gruffly when he leans forward and pins your legs next to your head. 
you giggle at the words and he smiles down at you, a moment of innocence before the both of you look down and he’s using one hand to guide his tip into you.
the pop of his tip inside of you is overwhelming. you feel like you’re going to push him out in a single clench with how girthy he is. and you think the previous two, very wet, orgasms are what lets him slide into you, even though it stings. 
“shit’s fucking tight,” toji groans, both hands back to your legs while he and you watch him pull out nearly all the way and sink back in.
“ ‘s so big,” you huff, feeling like he’s outright in your stomach, “feel so full.”
“bet you do,” he sounds so serious when he says it, still entranced when he starts to pound in and out of you at an average pace that, although it’s not fast, still has you starting to feel tears brim near your waterline
the man above you starts groaning in sync with your moans and whines, shuddering a little everytime you clench and suck him in
“beautiful,” toji groans under his breath and you can feel his pace start to pick up a bit, “getting fucked on a huge cock, little princess slut. tiny fucking hole’s begging for help.”
the mean words mixed with his praise has you feeling epically embarrassed yet turned on all at the same time and all you can do is moan in response 
“you like getting called a slut?” he presses himself against you, almost chest to chest, smirking evilly while he raggedly breathes, “or princess? or you like me talking about splitting your pussy open?”
“all…of it,” you gasp through two punctual thrusts of his, he’s hit your cervix multiple times but the pleasure is so overwhelming, you’re starting to enjoy it
toji snickers a little, opening your legs a bit further to expose more of your torso, your tits being part of it and his intention, you realize when he goes down to pop one of your nipples into his mouth. he swirls the bud around his mouth and bites at it with his teeth while he starts to jackhammer into you, making sure each thrust is deep.
his balls start making a pap–pap sound everytime he thrusts back in, accompanying the wet squelch of toji dragging himself inside of you repeatedly.
it’s rough and hard, but more intimate than anything considering the few words being exchanged. the both of you are more concentrated on each other’s presence and reactions because after toji comes back up from your tits, he finds your lips and starts to makeout with you languidly. 
the grip on your thighs grows bruising when you mix tongue into the kissing, coaxing him to do the same too. 
“feel so fucking good,” he hisses when you clench around him uncontrollably, a sign of your incoming orgasm, “pussy’s close isn’t it”
you nod instead of speaking, concentrating on the delicious drag of his veins against your walls and the prodding of his tip at your g-spot
toji leans close to your ear, voice hard and lusty as he starts to mutter sweet and dirty nothings, “such a pretty girl, taking this cock so good.”
he then bites your ear softly, “you gonna milk my cock like a good girl? squeeze my load all out?”
shivering, you nod again and make a whimper in response 
“squirt all over me angel, i know you want to,” toji starts plummeting a bit harder into your sweet spot, finding it again, the action has you looking down at where you’re both connected unable to fathom how large he is and just how he’s making it all fit inside, “look at me.”
one of his hands is gently under your chin now, guiding you to look at him since your eyes had strayed from his own. he’s breathing heavy now and his irises are almost completely gone considering the blown out size of his pupils. 
“cum with me sweetheart,” the hand from your chin snakes its way down to your clit so as to start rubbing harsh circles for you, and you just know you’re about to make a bigger mess than before, “wrap that pretty pussy around me. milk the shit out of this dick. cum’s all yours baby.”
“ ‘s too much,” you whine, breathing ragged, “i don’t think–oh my god!”
you feel the pleasure wash over your entire body and come out all over toji’s lower abdomen accompannied by the profuse hard flutters of your pussy on his cock. you release a combination between a whine and a cry, feeling completely wrecked by the sensation.
toji follows you the moment your release gets all over him, his hips stiling and jerking into you roughly, this time giving hard kisses to your cervix instead of the fleeting small pecks from earlier. his cum feels immense, its warmth you can feel pooling inside you as toji sputters it into you.
“shit! fuck!” he groans, watching himself push it all into you before looking back up and taking you into a passionate kiss
“atta girl,” he utters after swiping his tongue across your teeth, one of his hands coming up to tentatively hold one of your breasts, “that feel good?”
tired, you weakly nod and sigh a weak, “mhm”
he lets go of the one hand holding your thigh up and moves both of your legs so that they wrap around his waist. he hasn’t pulled out yet.
“gonna buy you a new couch,” his lips twitch a little as he looks at the surrounding area near the both of you, “shit’s soaked.”
“toji!” you whine, embarrased, and pull him into you so you can hide your face.
toji doesn’t let you, instead pulling away so he can get a good look at you and grin, “you got spare sheets?”
“yeah?” you furrow your eyebrows, “but what does that have to do with the couch?”
“it doesnt. I’m fucking you on your bed later,” he shifts both of your bodies so that you can sit on top of him now just as he shifts the conversation back to what it was, “we’ll go shopping for the couch tomorrow. make it celebratory gift.”
“for the first time we fucked?”
“nah,” he lands a teasing kiss on your nose, “for your first time.”
you roll your eyes at him, “just because its been three years–”
“don’t care, doesn’t count if you never came with shrimp dick.”
a fit of giggles escapes you as you press yourself up against him for physical support, “yeah okay, it’s my first time gift.” 
then your eyes stray to his very wet clothes on the floor next to yours, “sorry i got your clothes dirty though. I don’t think i have anything for you to wear either.”
toji puts both of his thumbs at the corner of your mouth to make your pout disappear, he snickers at himself for it, “i’ll call my assistant to drop off some clothes here.” 
“how long will that take?”
“long as our shower,” toji huffs as he lifts the both of you up and starts walking to your restroom.
“and how long will that take?” you laugh, wiggling your eyebrows at him and clinging onto his shoulders.
“three more orgasms,” he comments, opening the door and leading the both of you to a very steamy shower. 
“you haven’t even made the call yet!”
“shut up.”
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planetnini · 3 months
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thank you for tagging me my lovely <333
here is the bewitched chap 2 sneak peek everyones been waiting for (maybe not anymore..) im an asshole for gatekeeping, i will get to it asap everybody!!!
“I know you think I’m pathetic, but I can make my own breakfast.” you reassured, not wanting his pity. He knew what he did was wrong, and if you weren’t going to get an outright apology from his lips, you had no plans of talking to him. “No need!” he exclaimed, disregarding your comment, “I didn’t know what you liked so I made a lot.” he said with a smile on his face that you no longer look forward to. That nearly wiped out all reasoning you had left but you held on, you could crumble when he left. Your patience was tested when he continued looking at you like he had done nothing wrong the previous day. You turned back to Gojo who was dressed in a black tee and grey sweats but you pulled your gaze away from him taking a sip of your water, hoping he would take the sign and leave you alone. “You know you can’t give me the silent treatment forever. We share an apartment.” he stated as you turned around drinking the glass of water in front of him, a blank look on your face. Here Gojo was thinking he should be nominated for friend of the year yet you were giving him nothing. It was frustrating but he doesn’t blame you for the way you’re acting: it wasn’t like he didn’t deserve the way you were treating him right now. He gave you one last look, sighing as he walked out of his apartment without a care in the world that he was going to be late for his first class of the day.
tagging. @stsgluver (i miss you lover)
tyty for the tag, @emelkae!
rules: post the last seven sentences you've written, then tag seven people.
this was actually never supposed to see the light of day (didn't even make it out of my notes to a doc lmao) so no title for this
How long until he himself is slain in the name of peace across the nation and finally laid to rest in waters marred by his own blood and for once not that of others? Surely the blood should be gone by now. But he can feel it, splashing up to his shoulders. Pouring down his lungs. He is wading in it. How much blood is on his hands? Too much.
open tag ofc!! buuuut for the challenge rules i'm tagging: @perpetualcynicism, @minhxiao, @frankenjoly, @legend-of-cupcake, @thirdleaflogic, @cocrante, @airbluest
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planetnini · 3 months
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currently obsessed with this smau!!!!!!! loving all the tropes and the moments actually melt my heart thank you for making me believe in love again (im kidding)
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highlights! ⇢ y/n doesn't know she sleep talks hehe ⇢ when gojo found her passed out on the couch, he just kinda stood there like🧍🏻‍♂️ for a hot min bc he didn't know what to do ⇢ y/n was appalled gojo had sims on his computer and all the expansion packs but never plays the game
author's note! ⇢ it's giving friendship <3
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꒰ 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 ꒱ ↳ as a rising star in the tumultuous world of hollywood, you're handed a golden opportunity to boost your career – a fake relationship. what your manager forgot to mention? your leading man is none other than satoru gojo, hollywood's notorious fuckboy. easy? well, not exactly.
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PART SEVENTEEN | NEXT
ʚĭɞ rbs and interaction always appreciated! ʚĭɞ
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planetnini · 3 months
Text
he is perfect
it's quiet today.
too quiet, and zayne is acutely aware of it. he knows it's half-past midnight and his shift ended three hours ago, but he can't bring himself to leave his office. it's quiet now, but it might be loud later, and at that point it would've just been easier to stay at his office.
so he did, of course he did.
his work-life balance is nonexistent, and he's not sure when the line of balance became so blurry, was it when he first started working, or was it the day after he knew he would become a doctor? he's not sure, and now it's become too engrained in his mind to just stay a little longer.
the quiet could not last for long, because this is a hospital and it could never last long, but he's surprised when it's a knock on his door and not an emergency code over the intercoms or a message on his pager.
"come in." he calls, but even he is surprised at how quiet his voice is. when's the last time he's had a sip of water?
"dr. zayne~ there you are!" you singsong, walking through his office and arriving in front of his desk. there's a pretty smile on your face and a look in your eyes. zayne has grown accustomed to this look meaning 'you haven't eaten or had a drink or slept in the last twelve hours so here's me bringing you things', and it seems to fill him with something. a feeling of yearning? he's not sure.
before he can say anything, specifically 'why are you here so late?', you sit a plastic bag down in front of him. he already recognizes the logo on the bag as the one from the convenience store down the street, and from only a glimpse inside of the bag, he knows whats inside of it.
"i was going to see if you just wanted to get takeout but then i realized the time, i figured this would be quicker."
"why are you here so late?" he hasn't forgotten the time like you have. it's almost one in the morning now, and you should be home, sleeping. you are a hunter now, after all.
you give him another look, one where you scrunch your nose and look away from him. "i bring you goodies and dinner and you treat me like this?" there's a shift in tone in your voice, and you let out a giggle at the end of your sentence.
cute, but doesn't answer his question.
"thank you for the food. why are you here so late?" you click your tongue in response. always the stickler for rules, isn't he?
"because i knew you'd still be here." he can't argue with that logic, but something both eats at and fills him. you should've been at home, not worrying about him. but the fact that you were worrying about him... well he couldn't deny that the idea made him a little joyful.
"c'mon, eat," you insist, sitting across him at the desk. "i won't even pester you about going home if you do. well- actually, i can't guarantee that." he doesn't respond, only shooting you a look.
"oh! let me tell you about work today..." once you start talking, he doesn't stop you. it's nice to hear your voice, to see your smile.
as he eats the food you brought him, a thought crosses his mind... how deeply he's missed this.
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planetnini · 3 months
Text
I LOVE HIM
The one feeling Doctor Zayne has been very familiar with as of late is fatigue. Exhaustion. His career, one he enjoys nonetheless, is working him to the very bone.
More often than not, he doesn’t arrive back to his apartment until well past midnight, sometimes even in the wee hours of the morning. However, even if it may be at an ungodly hour that Zayne eventually returns, the sight he is welcomed with seems worth it.
The man, by nature, is cold, aloof and rather austere. Icy, to most—except those he holds close, and at present, you’re the only one he’s got.
You always try to wait up for him, but sleep traps you before you can catch the beep of the front door’s code being recognised and the shuffling of feet.
Zayne’s come to expect this sight now. He’d enter, push off his shoes and run a hand through his dark hair, sighing tiredly, turning the corner for the living room. The lights would still be on, the TV playing but on mute, and your slumbering frame sprawled on the couch, neck at an undoubtedly uncomfortable angle.
Zayne rarely smiles, but it’s at moment like these when he feels the corners of his mouth curl up. It’s not significant, it’s nothing special, but it means something to him. He feels appreciated, even though you can never stay awake long enough to actually greet him at two in the morning.
He reaches for the remote, hitting the off button. Some hair has fallen into your wide-open mouth, one of your feet still slippered. He finds it endearing. Scooping you up, he quietly pads across the tiled floor in his tired socked feet for the bedroom, pushing the door open with his shoulder and entering. Zayne gently places you down upon the soft mattress, checking to make sure you didn’t stir. Your eyes remain tightly shut, breath even and deep.
He adjusts the pillow beneath your head to make sure it’s comfortable, pulling a blanket up over you. With a soft peck to the crown of your head, Zayne turns and makes his way for the bathroom, yawning, eager for a shower. He has about four hours of sleep before he has to head back to the hospital again for his next shift, and he’s practically falling asleep on his feet right now. God, I need a vacation.
With you, preferably. Out somewhere remote, maybe tropical, with hammocks to relax in and just chat idly over a glass or two of sangria. Maybe while the night away, lost in each other’s arms. Have slow coffee mornings and a day on the sand, soaking in the sun. Fantasies he’s more than willing to achieve if it means you have a wonderful time with him. Zayne smiles to himself in the mirror while brushing his teeth. It’d be nice.
You’re still snoring softly away once he’s finished in the bathroom, shuffling under the covers beside you. He draws you into his arms, leaning into your warmth, feeling his exhausted limbs relax from your familiar scent. Even with such humble, modest simplicities—they’re the small moments that get him through the day. Knowing you’ll be waiting for him, knowing he can put a hard day behind him and welcome the new one eagerly. If it’s with you, he’d never give up his mundane, draining daily routine for the world.
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planetnini · 3 months
Text
oh my gosh
baby, warm me up. zayne
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ෆ pairings : zayne x female reader
ෆ genre : fluff, smut
ෆ word count : 3k6
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ෆ warnings : mdni. husband!zayne, bratty wife!reader, fluff, small argument, teasing, fingering, biting, a lot of kisses, unprotected sex, breeding kink, handjob, hand kink, rough sex, semi-public sex, risk of getting caught, medical office sex, zayne is really cold (you know him..) but really reallyyy soft at the same time, they are both so in love . . . ໑ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚
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"what are you doing here." zayne's office door closed behind you as you excitedly threw your shopping bags on the sofa in front of his desk.
"i went shopping and thought : why not say hello to my hubby?" you clapped your hands, smiling at zayne's cold expression. "are you not excited to see me ?" you pouted and placed your hands on your hips. "look at my new dress, isn't it cute ?" zayne pushed his glasses up his nose and turned his attention back to the documents spread out on his desk.
"i have work to do y/n. go back home." he grabbed a pen and resumed his work without giving you another glance. you sighed and threw yourself onto the sofa.
"my husband is so meannnn." you raised your arms and looked at your hands. "i even had my nails done for him. but he doesn't care about me i'm so sad." you whined loudly but zayne was totally indifferent and it was slowly beginning to frustrate you. you suddenly got up and reached into one of your bags, pulling out a cute little top you bought at the mall. "since you don't mind, i'll show you everything i've bought." zayne squeezed his pencil lightly between his fingers at your words. you took off your shoes and unbuttoned your dress, which fell to your feet, leaving you in your underwear in front of his desk. he slowly raised his eyes to you and his eyebrows furrowed at the sight of you half-naked in his workplace.
"what are you doing." it didn't sound like a question, zayne's tone was cold as usual, but this time you could hear the annoyance in his voice, which made you smile slightly. he tapped his pencil repeatedly on the wood of his desk, looking you up and down behind the lenses of his glasses.
"i told you. i'm doing a haul just for you." you winked at him. he pressed his back against his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. you put on your top and zayne's eyes fell on your breasts, a little too visible for his taste because of the little fabric covering your skin. you put your hands on your hips and gave him a few poses to show off your top, you spun around and smiled with all your teeth. you chuckled. "so ? what do you think baby." his cold gaze slid down on the skin of your bare thighs to your hips, before falling back into your eyes.
"i think you should go home, like i said." you sighed and crossed your arms over your chest, and zayne almost broke his pencil at the sight of your breasts sticking out generously.
"i don't want to go back home without you. it's saturday and i want us to have fun tonight." you bent down and reached into your bag to pull out a skirt and scarf. "look i even bought a cute outfit for you." zayne sighed and a discreet, almost invisible smile played across his lips. he rose from his chair and you pressed your clothes to your chest as the tall man approached you.
"look at me." you didn't even realize you'd lowered your gaze to your feet. you looked up at him and your teeth caught your lower lip at his serious expression. "i have a lot of work to do, and you're a distraction." you clenched your fists, you were offended and zayne could see it in your eyes. you threw your clothes against his chest which he caught before they fell to the ground.
"ok, i get it. i'm gonna go have some fun on my own then." you took off your top under zayne's piercing eyes and his fists clenched on your clothes as you also removed your bra.
"y/n. don't push me please." your eyes never left his when you wrapped your arm around your breasts, forbidding him to look. you knew what you were doing was wrong but you couldn't help feeling that childish feeling of jealousy. zayne was always busy with work and having time to spend with him was becoming more and more complicated as the days went by. you crouched down and pulled a silk dress from another bag.
"you see." you straightened up and slipped inside the dress, which gilded deliciously over the curves of your body under your husband's cold gaze. "i was supposed to wear this dress tonight at the restaurant i booked for us. but instead, i'm going to wear it now and go by myself. maybe a man will join me and give me some time ?" you grabbed your purse from the sofa. you brought your hand to your mouth and tilted your head to the side, looking at him again. "maybe rafayel? i don't think he would have forgotten our wedding anniversary." you caught your heels in your hands, wanting to put them in your car, you couldn't stand his silence any longer and you wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. you grabbed the door's wrist to open it when a hand slammed down on the wood to close it again. you turned around and leaned your back against the door, zayne's face down on you. the strands of his hair fell over his dark eyes behind his glasses, making him far too attractive. a knock was heard from the other side of the door.
"doctor zayne ? your patient is here for his appointment." his gaze wandered slowly over every pretty feature of your face before falling back into your beautiful eyes.
"make them wait in the corridor." his other hand wrapped a lock of your hair around its finger. "i'll be there soon, unfortunately, i still have something to take care of." his hand went up to your chin, which he raised towards him. zayne was much more taller than you, sometimes, to look at him you had to stand on tiptoe to keep your balance. he slipped his arm, which was against the door, around your waist, pulling you closer to him. you squealed softly as you felt his face come close to your ear, his lips gently brushing against it. "and you, you come with me." you mewled and grabbed his shirt between your hands as he lifted you by the hips, making you wrap your legs around his waist.
"i hate you." you pouted, wrapping your arms around his neck. he smiled tenderly and placed a small kiss on your cheek, making you blush. he walked to his desk and sat you down on it. his two hands settled on either side of you as he stood between your thighs.
"look at me, princess." his teeth gently caught your ear, making you flinch. "please." you sighed lightly as you removed your arms from around his neck, giving him a chance to see your rosy cheeks. you closed your eyes and his nose touched yours. "i didn't forget our wedding anniversary." he slipped a hand on the small of your back and kissed your jaw before blindly reaching behind you for a small box on his desk. you slowly opened your eyes on a beautiful diamond ring and gasped.
"w-what is this.." you grabbed the box between your trembling fingers and raised your face to zayne's, who rested his forehead against yours, smiling softly.
"i told you to leave so that you could take the time to make yourself even more beautiful than you are now." he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear before gently kissing the corner of your lips. "i have a lot of work to do and i wanted to get everything done so i could get back to you as soon as possible." he grabbed your hips with both hands and pulled you closer to him, making you blush even more under his cold eyes.
"i feel so stupid." you caught your face in your hands. "i'm so sorry zayne." he caught one of your fingers between his teeth, nibbling gently.
"don't be sad, my love." your hands slowly fell from your face. "i was a bit stressed and i know i can be cold sometimes." you immediately looked up and saw him smiling.
"sometimes huh ?" he chuckled softly and your heart began to race.
"yes i know. but you're not afraid of the ice, are you ?" his cold fingers slid over the bare skin of your thighs, pulling up your dress. you grabbed his shirt again, moaning softly under his piercing eyes.
"i'm not." he lightly pinched the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, making you flinch. zayne's face pressed against your neck and he took the opportunity to lick the sensitive spot under your ear, a whimper escaped from between your lips as your legs suddenly wrapped around his waist.
"so why don't you try to warm me up ?" this time you couldn't resist anymore, you needed him. one of your hands grabbed his white lab coat, bringing him closer to you causing him to catch himself with one hand on the desk behind you. your lips met the skin of his neck and a silent moan escaped from his mouth. "eager aren't we ?" your teeth sank into his flesh and his head tilted back slightly when he felt your small hands grab his belt. your hand slipped into his pants to catch his length, you bit your lip painfully, trembling. a soft moan escaped from between zayne's lips. "your hands are so warm." he lowered his head and your eyes met again, he opened his mouth slightly as you began to slowly move your hand over his cock, jerking him off as you analyzed every pretty feature of his face.
"i love you." you sighed softly and he smiled lightly between two moans. he placed his hands on either side of you, his forehead pressed to yours, making you tremble even more at this new proximity.
"why are you shaking my darling ?" a chuckle escaped him. "i'm the one who's getting touched." his eyes fell on your hand, which was gently caressing him. "by such a pretty hand." he raised his eyes back to yours and your gaze almost made him cum in your hand. you were so pretty, your cheeks were as rosy as flowers and your eyes were glassy. every time you touched zayne he had this feeling that you were taking more pleasure than he was, and seeing you like this made you even more adorable in his eyes.
your thumb slipped over his tip and zayne let out a growl that you swallowed in a tender kiss. your glossy lips caressed his gently as his tongue slipped into your mouth to meet yours. you sucked his lower lip shyly as you felt his hands grab your dress. he tried to escape your lips to talk but your grip on his cock tightened, making him moan against your mouth. you pressed your mouth harder against his and your tongue slid against his teeth, making him smile during the kiss. his breathing quickened as your hand slid up and down his length faster. a knocking sounded at his office door, but zayne paid it no mind. he moved one of his hands up to your jaw and his fingers slipped over your hairline as he deepened the kiss, making you moan inside his mouth.
"doctor zayne ? your patient is waiting." his tongue wrapped around yours before sucking on it gently. your other hand went up his muscular back, and you pulled his lab coat off his shoulders. he immediately understood what you wanted and pulled his hands away from you to remove it completely from him. your mouth never left his it was as if you needed it to breathe or you could die just under him. you pressed his cock against his stomach and rubbed it harder against your palm, making him grip the edge of the desk firmly. he was now panting against your mouth and your tongue couldn't resist licking his lips. everything was so delicious, the minty taste of his mouth was addictive.
"ah- stop. im gonna cum." he suddenly grabbed your thigh and lifted it. "i don't want to ruin the pretty dress you bought for me." your lips slipped from his mouth to his jaw, which you nibbled softly. "please. take it off." his other hand slipped under your butt to pull the fabric of your dress through. you removed your hand from his cock and grabbed the edges of your dress which you pulled over your head before bringing back your mouth to the skin of his neck.
"i missed you so much, zayne. a-ah-" you moaned prettily as you felt him tug roughly at your lace panties before tossing them behind him. you wrapped your arms around his neck as he slid his hands under your knees, positioning your feet on the edge of his desk, opening you up to him as much as possible.
"i know baby, i know. i'm sorry, i'm here now." you nodded and threw your head back, feeling the tip of his cock slide between your walls. you removed your arms from around his neck and grasped his shirt firmly in your hands, moaning loudly. zayne removed one of his hands from under your knee and slid his fingers against your lips. his piercing gaze met your glassy eyes. "shhh-" he pushed his cock further into you and he could see in your eyes that you were on the verge of climax. "you have to be quiet" you nodded, a tear fell down your cheek and zayne bit down on his bottom lip to keep himself from grunting at the sight of you in such despair. you squealed against his fingers as he placed his lips on your eye, kissing you softly. "it's gonna be fine. you want to feel good, hm ?" you nodded again and your chest heaved as he thrust his full length inside you. you pulled so hard on his shirt that buttons popped off and spread across the floor, revealing his muscular chest. you were now panting against his mouth and zayne frowned while looking deep into your teary eyes, trying to calm himself down.
"z-zayne..ahhh..." you grabbed the hair on the back of his head as he started thrusting inside you slowly, letting you get used to him. he slid both of his hands on your hips and you threw your head back as his gaze fell on your juicy, erotic lips. he wanted to eat them so bad, but he didn't want to miss your little moans under his thrusts. another tear rolled down your cheek and zayne immediately licked it off. he opened his mouth to let out small moans when he felt your legs wrap around his waist, making him thrust his cock even deeper until he reached your g-spot. you almost fell backwards when you felt his tip strike against the most sensitive spot of your body, zayne caught you by the small of your back.
"how does it feel ? good ?" you nodded and opened your mouth to speak, but a cry escaped you as he thrust a bit faster inside you, making you arch against his hand on your back . you grabbed his fingers still against your lips and slipped them into your mouth to stop you from being too loud. his cold gaze returned back to yours and you couldn't help biting his fingers, making him flinch slightly. an almost non-existent smile spread across his lips as he watched you try to apologize between your uncontrollable moans. he laid you flat on the desk and let out a deep groan when he looked down on your pussy gushing and clenching on his cock. he grabbed the back of your knees with one hand and pressed them against your chest, this new position made you turn your eyes to the back of your skull. his erection was impossibly hard and the thick veins on the underside of his cock were consistently dragging over your silken flesh.
"z-zayne....ahh....ahh....ahh...hmph!-" zayne put his knee on the desk, fucking you even more deeply as he looked straight into your eyes, his mouth hang opened and silent moans escaped from between the reddened lips you'd kissed passionately earlier. "it's.... ahhh-.. too m-much-" you tried to grab everything you could around you, the edges of his desk and the document holders lying around, everything.
"take it, please. look at you. you look so pretty with your face all red." you were now a crying and moaning mess under his powerful thrusts. zayne didn't care about you being noisy anymore, the whole hospital could hear you and probably the patient who'd been waiting for him in the corridor for thirty minutes. but all he wanted was fucking you good, fucking you the way you always deserved it. "so pretty. please, let’s make a baby." you nodded and you squirted a little against his pelvis at his words. with his free hand he was about to pull his shirt off his shoulders when you grabbed the fabric of his sleeve, letting him know that you wanted him to give it to you. zayne dropped the back of your knees and straightened up to take off his shirt, which he then handed to you.
you pressed his shirt against your face, savoring the scent of your husband as he removed his cock from your cunt and turned you over so that you were lying on your side. you bit down gently on the fabric of his shirt when you met his cold eyes again. he positioned himself back on his two legs on the floor and bent down to gently kiss the skin of your hip before straightening up again, making you whimper. he grabbed your leg and put it on his shoulder before sinking back inside and immediately start fucking you deep. "ahh.. yes princess, you like it like that ?-" he moaned and a streams of yes’s escaped from your glossy lips as lewd squelching and skin slapping against skin noises were bouncing off the office walls. he pulled your leg towards him to bring you closer, making you bounce on his cock harder with each thrust and you couldn't help but scream as you felt his tip hit your g-spot with full force. you pressed your nose deeper into his shirt and your eyes rolled back into the back of your skull as you smelled the musky scent of his cologne. zayne pressed his pelvis against your clit and the opportunity was too good for you not to rub up against him. "look at me." you looked up into his beautiful green eyes and immediately opened your mouth wide, mewling loudly as you saw zayne blush, with his glasses almost falling off his nose. one of his hand caught your sensitive ear and he pressed it between his two digits, making you arch your back. "you like my scent mh ?" you nodded, biting your lower lip under his watchful gaze. "when i'm at work, do you use my shirts to touch yourself with them ?" you squealed and pulled the fabric of his shirt up over your nose, revealing only your eyes.
"y-yes.." zayne suddenly grabbed your hips and flipped you onto your stomach, he fucked you so hard that the desk rocked back and forth. he pressed his chest against your back and you gripped the edges of the desk firmly as you felt his hand slide under your belly to massage your clit. zayne slipped his tongue into your ear and you couldn't help yourself from screaming even louder as you felt your orgasm building inside you. "z-zayne...ahhhh....ahhhhh...i-m... cuming-" he removed himself from your cunt and turned you over onto your back again, he lifted your ass before thrusting roughly into you, his balls slapping against your cheeks loudly.
"look at me, princess." he was panting against your lips and his forehead was pressed against yours as his nails dug into your skin, a sign that he was close to cumming too. you looked up into his beautiful eyes and a smile played on his lips between two moans. "are you ready to be a mom, y/n ?" you nodded repeatedly and begged him against his lips to let you cum. “then take it all.”
“y-yes…yes!-” you shouted, arching your back and pressing your breasts harder against his chest as you squirted against him. he moaned loudly as he came at the same time as you, you shook your hips in pure satisfaction, allowing zayne’s swollen cock to enjoy the pleasure of your tight, tender passageway walls as they sucked it in over and over again, prolonging your orgasm. the sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoed throughout the room and you were certain that the nurse on the other side of the door knew what you were doing. zayne slowed the pace of his hips and you squealed against his lips when he slid his hands over your breasts, pressing them together. he panted against your mouth trying to recover from his orgasm as you felt his semen flowing between your legs. “baby.. it’s leaking..” zayne kissed your cheek and slipped one of his hands between your legs, he removed his cock from your pussy and slipped two fingers between your walls pushing his cum deep inside. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head, giggling.
“happy wedding anniversary, zaynie.”
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© 𝙢𝙞𝙚𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙘𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 ! 𝙢𝙙𝙣𝙞 — 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭, 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘱𝘭𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶. ☆⌒(>。<)
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4K notes · View notes
planetnini · 3 months
Text
delicious
𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑
Toji Fushiguro
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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
Summary: Ever since you spilled coffee on your co-worker, you find yourself getting in compromising situations with him.
Warnings: MDNI, smut, co-worker Toji, office sex, oral sex (m. receiving), gagging, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, praise, semi-public sex(?? they're in the janitor's closet in the first part and there's people outside)
*Finally the last one!!! thank you all so much for 10k again🥹 I'm almost at 13k now so thank you all so much for your support, I love you all so very much
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Apart from his name, you don’t know anything about the man you work with. Toji sits next to you eight hours a day, yet you’ve never gotten to properly know him. You have no idea if he’s married, if he has kids, a pet– What waits for him when he gets home? Does he have any hobbies? The only time you ever talk is about work, and you typically wouldn’t care about knowing your coworkers if it weren’t for the fact that you constantly find yourself daydreaming over Toji.
What you like the most about Toji may be the fact that he barely speaks since it leaves you questioning everything about his personality. You make a perfect version of your co-worker in your head which has you head over heels for him. It certainly doesn’t help that Toji is exactly the type of man who you want behind you, fucking you senseless.
You hate to have those types of thoughts in the middle of the day, and worst of all, you’re mindlessly staring at him, and it’s too late to turn away when he asks you what’s wrong. He clears his throat, and you feel your face burning hot when he asks, “Is everything okay? Do I have something on my shirt?”
“Oh– No! Sorry…” You can’t play it off much since you stared at him like a lovesick teenage girl. You try to ignore the awkward interaction by looking back at your computer, trying to go back to work, trying to ignore the very embarrassing fact that Toji caught you daydreaming.
You feel his eyes on you as you turn back to your work, and you swear you could crawl in a hole and die of embarrassment. His gaze lingers on you for a moment before Toji turns his attention back to his own job. You don’t stress about it, completely forgetting about the awkward interaction after five minutes. 
You work fine throughout the afternoon, and when you finally get out of your chair to take a break, you bump into him. Toji’s coffee spills all over his white button up shirt, making a gasp leave your lips. Toji doesn’t have much of a reaction even though the coffee looks hot. Your immediate reaction is to rub your long sleeve on his shirt to try to clean it up. You’re repeating, “Oh, I’m so sorry, I should watch where I’m going.”
“It’s fine. You’re fine.” Toji just holds his arms up as if he were being threatened by a gun. Toji isn’t a man that gets flustered easily but by the way you’re unintentionally touching him to clean him up, his cheeks burn. “It’s fine, really. I’ll just clean up in the bathroom–”
“I’m sorry.” You jerk back when you realize just how much you’ve been touching him without his permission. He lets out a chuckle, making it seem that it’s fine. It was an honest mistake, he surely doesn’t mind if a pretty girl bumps into him… Now, if it was one of the old guys that work in the office, it’d be a whole different story. You watch him walk away, mentally cursing at yourself for being so fucking dumb.
You notice the mess on the floor and you tiptoe around it to go to the janitor’s closet and get some stuff to clean it up. You enter the small room, turning on the light to look for some paper towels. You click your tongue, seeing that they’re on the top shelf.
You stand on your tippy toes trying to reach a roll but they’re too far back for you. Would it be too embarrassing to jump? Nobody is watching… Just when you’re about to jump, you feel a body pressed against your back. Your head slowly turns, and luckily, you find your handsome co-worker, grabbing the paper towel for you. 
“Here you go.” He gives it to you when you turn around, and you awkwardly smile at him as you take it from his hand.
“Thank you, Fushiguro. Again, I’m so sorry.” You repeat. You feel your heart skip a beat when you realize just how close he is, hearing him breathe and feeling the warmth that his body gives. His dark green eyes are filled with lust, and he makes no effort in disguising it. You’re flattered, really, but this isn’t appropriate considering where you’re at.
“Please, call me Toji.” He licks his lips, and you feel as if you’re burning up. The heat his body emits really doesn’t help you cool you down either. Your eyes look at the door that’s closed for a reason… It’s locked.
You’ve imagined this scenario one too many times, and you always imagined yourself as the most confident woman in the world– But as it happens to you, you’re too shy to really do anything. “I’ve seen the way you look at me… And thought of a way your pretty face could make up for my ruined shirt.”
“Toji…” Is all that manages to leave your pathetic lips. You’re not scared, your body is practically begging for his touch. “It’s not appropriate to do what you want to do here.”
“Why not? The door is locked.” He says as he grabs your hand and puts it on his belt. His lips meet yours, his tongue going past your lips and wandering around in your mouth before it presses against yours. He’s just like you imagined, intoxicating.
Your hands begin to move on their own, undoing his belt and unbuttoning his pants. You can’t take too long since you have to get back to work soon, it’ll be quick, hopefully. You pull away from the kiss, getting on your knees. You pull down his briefs, letting his cock free from its confinement. It’s more than you expected.
You lick your lip before biting down and looking up at him. He has a smirk on his face as he waits for you to do more than just stare. Your tongue licks up from the base to the tip before fully wrapping your mouth around it, taking as much as you can get.
You bob your head slowly, starting off slow. And as Toji feels your pretty little mouth wrapped around his cock, he thinks that maybe this wasn’t his brightest idea. He lets out a breathy moan, feeling so good. Your bobs begin to pick up a bit of speed, and the man stops talking for a second to enjoy the feeling of your mouth wrapped around his cock. 
“You look so pretty on your knees like that. You’re just a pretty little thing.” He sighs, relieved. He decides to bite his bottom lip, holding back moans so the whole office doesn’t hear him as you suck him off. “Your mouth feels so fucking good.”
You look up at him, pleased with what you’re doing. You’re doing what you’ve always thought of doing with him– But you’re in the office. You can’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be heard. But he got a bit too caught up, enjoying the feeling of your mouth and your tongue. 
He grabs the back of your head and pushes your head so you gag on his cock. It’s your punishment for ruining his shirt. Your gagging is like music to his ears, the greatest melody he has ever heard.
“Fuck– Fuck-” He moans as a couple of tears leave your eyes. He begins to move his hips, which he finds more fun than just pushing your head on his cock. “God, such a pretty girl taking my cock.”
He’s completely forgotten about the fact that you’re in the office, and he’s getting loud. He’s staring down at you, admiring just how beautiful you look with your mouth wrapped around him. He lets out a groan, filling your mouth with his cum. 
He finally lets go of your head, and you take your mouth off his cock. You swallow most of his cum, but some of it manages to escape and it drips down the corners of your mouth. Toji bends down to clean it up, pressing you to open your mouth so he can wipe the remaining cum on your tongue. 
“You have to fix your makeup, by the way. I’ll see you out there.” Toji says, fixing his pants before unlocking the door and leaving you to fix yourself up.
You’d definitely be mad being left alone so fast after sucking a guy off, but you can’t be mad at him. If anything, it makes you want him even more.
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“Hey, can you help me with this?” Toji asks, eyes focused on the new program that you’re working with. It’s no surprise that he doesn’t know how to use it– Not that you want to be rude but it makes sense.
After your little encounter in the janitor’s closet, Toji hasn’t really tried to do anything else with you. You were slightly disappointed but you managed to move on. What really worried you was any of your co-workers hearing how he moaned while you two just managed to be locked in the janitor’s closet. What really made things confusing was the fact that you came back with no paper towels even though you were going to clean up the mess you just made. 
“Yeah sure.” You’re sure that it won’t take too long. You’re off in around thirty minutes, teaching him shouldn’t take longer than five minutes.
At least that’s what you thought, it seems that Toji isn’t smart enough to catch on with it quickly. Your co-workers begin to leave one by one, and when you’re the last ones in the office, you’re convinced that Toji isn’t even qualified for the job. Until you realize that Toji isn’t even paying attention, his eyes have been ogling your cleavage the entire time… It’s not like you can even blame the poor guy since your boobs have been practically on his face the entire time.
“Should we continue this tomorrow? It seems your eyes are elsewhere.” You point out, and he lets out a chuckle.
“I agree. We should continue with that tomorrow. I need help with something else though.” Toji says, clicking out of the program.
“Can we do it tomorrow–” You begin but he shakes his head. You furrow your brows in confusion as you watch him turn off the computer. What exactly does he need help with?
Toji stands up from his chair, taking two steps to get close to you before his hand goes under your chin and he makes you look up at him. It clicks right there and then. Toji didn’t need to learn how to use the program, he just wanted to get you all alone in the office.
“I don’t think this issue can wait till tomorrow.” His voice becomes husky, and you squeeze your thighs out of reflex. You’re not planning on fighting it. He’s been flirtatious with you all morning, and you’ve been thinking of him a million different positions he can put you in… Curse your dirty mind. 
“Does it really? I thought you didn’t even want me after… Well, you know, the incident in the janitor’s closet. You didn’t even try to make a move on me after.” You point out, and Toji laughs. You don’t exactly find what’s funny about this. “What’s funny?”
“Maybe you’re just not available for me. You’re always going out with everyone else, what do you want me to do? Steal you from them? Let them know I want to fuck the shit out of you?” He answers. And maybe he’s right, you have been going out with your other co-workers after work to get a drink, and when it’s not that, he’s out of the office. You really haven’t given him much of a chance to ask you out or let him fuck you after work. 
You won’t admit you’re at fault, therefore you decide to move your hands to the back of his head.
“Just shut up and kiss me.” You tell him, pulling him into a kiss. It’s not worth spending time arguing any longer since you two clearly want to do something that doesn’t involve much talking. While your tongues press against each other, his hands move under your ass to lift you up and put you on his desk.
As he kisses you passionately, his hand goes to your thigh, caressing the soft flesh that your skirt exposes. His hand goes up to your panties, toying with your clothed cunt, working you up. He moves your panties to the side, running his fingers through your already slick folds. He pulls away with a smirk on his face, only to say, “You’re already so wet for me, pretty girl. But I haven’t done anything?”
“Shut up.” You sound embarrassed, and you are. Just the thought of him fucking you is enough to make you go crazy. 
He pushes two fingers into your cunt, his lips landing on yours again. His tongue glides over yours while he curves his fingers, searching for your sweet spot. He knows when he finds it, feeling a moan through your tongue.
His fingers toy with you, while his free hand frees his cock. He pulls his fingers out when his cock is free. He runs the tip through your folds, and he begins to tease you. You hold your breath in anticipation, waiting ever so patiently for Toji to bury himself inside of you.
You breathe in as he pushes himself inside of you. He lets out a breathy moan as your walls wrap around his cock. Fuck, he didn’t think you would feel so tight and warm around him… Oh fuck, this is too fucking good. How did he not fuck you in the janitor’s closet immediately?
His cock slowly stretches you out, and you bite your bottom lip, holding back from being loud. There’s no one around, but you still don’t want to draw any attention to yourself.
Toji starts off slow but quickly picks up speed.  You’re taking him so well, and fuck, do you look beautiful. He’s surprised he hadn’t made a move sooner– But he couldn’t, he had no way of knowing that you liked him. Not until he caught you daydreaming while staring at him.  
“You’re so fucking pretty.” He tells you as his head goes to the crook of your neck. He licks it before biting down lightly. His head remains buried on your neck, where he lets his moans out so they come out muffled. “And your pussy is so fucking tight.”
He’s too lost in pleasure to even have noticed how your hand had gone down and now you’re playing with your clit. He hears your sweet moans in the air, which is truly the best music that has ever graced his ears. Fuck, he could ask you to marry him right then and there just to hear that every morning and night.
“Oh fuck, Toji–” Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. Toji’s hitting just the right spot, and he doesn’t even know it. You’re squeezing around him as your orgasm nears. You had many ideas on how your work day would end, but you truly didn’t expect to be on cloud nine when it ended.
Thank the heavens for Toji. That’s all you can think about when you reach your high, loudly moaning his name which echoes in the empty office building. 
Toji’s breath gets caught up in his chest, his thrusts getting sloppy as his release approaches. He doesn’t want this to end yet– But maybe he could invite you out to dinner and then take you back to his place. The night doesn’t have to end so soon… 
His nails dig into the soft flesh of your thighs as he reaches his release, his hot cum filling you up. Toji remains buried inside of you for a moment, while you both take a moment to regulate your breath. He pulls out and fixes your panties quickly before his cum gets everywhere.
You’re both quiet as you gather your stuff to leave. You wait for each other to go to the elevator, and even when you’re inside the lift, you’re awfully quiet for a pair of people that just had sex. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” You smile at Toji when you get to your floor. He grabs your hand before you can walk away and he proposes,
“Let’s actually grab a drink.”
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