STUBBORN FATE Underground Fighter!toji

✵ STUBBORN FATE✵ underground fighter!toji

your next door neighbor looks scary, but he cannot be far from it. little did you know his gentle smile and kind demeanor was masking his other life as an infamous underground fighter and he did not like you knowing about it either.

✵ underground fighter toji x uni!reader

✵ tags — SO MUCH ANGST AND HURT, blood, violence, vague assault from stranger, corruption kink, virginity loss, soft!dom toji, slow burn, mutual pinning, sfw, heavy nsfw, unprotected sex, (toji’s 26 reader is 20), protective toji, virgin!reader, spit kink, praise kink, crying, corruption kink, oral (f!receiving), fingering, crying, angst, bite kink,

✵ notes — the way this fic took me longer than I intended. I was gonna split it into two parts but i knew I’d get lazy and not complete it so I pushed thru and made it one long one shot

you weren’t scared. no you weren’t. you’re not…fuck

why couldn’t you be more aware? yes, you took this path many times to get to your apartment, but you should’ve remembered that this time was different. unlike the other times, someone had been tailing you since you left work. of course at night this section was much darker. and so, once you turned the corner, a pair of arms came around you.

the man from earlier now smiling, a darkness overlaying his sinister face as he pulled you further into the path, away from the main street …you couldn’t breathe. your body struggling as you flailed around. another pair of arms was holding you back, as you kicked out. able to get your elbow to collid with his stomach letting one of the men drop you.

“fucking bitch!” you felt sharp pain knock you down, holding your stomach as the other man came and gave you another kick to the back. the wind knocked out of you allowed the men to easily hold you down on the ground. you were completely vulnerable, the only thing you could do was scream for help. over and over…

your mind was fuzzy, you couldn’t stop your tears, trying your best to kick your legs out, only to receive a sharp slap across your face. “stay fucking still,” the hand covering your mouth allowed you to bite his finger, causing the man to hiss in pain, his hand bleeding.

you could barely see, your vision black….calm down calm down…i can’t see I can’t see—don’t touch me. get off me….what’s going to happen after? I want to go home! your ears stung, someone was screaming…I can’t breathe…why does my throat hurt?

you hadn’t realized that the one screaming was you— a gentle hand touched your face. flinching back, throwing your arms out, screaming—

“hey! it’s me! y/n! it’s me,” the familiar voice had you blinking. I can’t—I can’t breathe…a sudden wave knocked you over, filling your eyes with fat tears, letting out a broken sob.

“t…to…toji,” you couldn’t stop your tears anymore, breaking down completely, letting the man pull you into his embrace, his arms secure around your waist as he held the back of your head, allowing you to sob into his chest. he held you close, his own eyes bloodshot as he tried to stabilize his own breathing. holding you close to hide his own body shaking.

your vision was blocked by his body, not allowing you to notice what he’d done minutes ago to the two animals that lay dead on the ground. a black car coming with a few men you’d thought you’ve seen before…..

it was your first time living away from home, or off campus, you’d dormed your first two years, but decided to finally get an apartment, not wanting to deal with roommates anymore. it was a big step forward, but you were excited…maybe too excited.

“why isn’t the door opening?!” you grumbled to yourself, wiggling the door handle over and over, jiggling the handle—

the door suddenly swung open, causing you to stumble back, tripping on your bag you’d stupidly placed right behind your feet, knocking your head against the half wall behind you with a loud thud.

“fucks going on here?” a deep voice snapped. you were grumbling to yourself, rubbing your head in pain, eyes slowly trailing up the black sweats hanging loosely on the stranger, going up to the black sweater accentuating his broad shoulders until you were finally met with the dark green eyes staring back at you. “don’t want any ads—“ he goes to close the door.

your body quickly struggling to get up, reaching out with a loud, “wait!”

his brows quirked, seeing you kneeling down in front of his door. who even is this?

“it says this is my apartment,” you turn your paper that the land lord gave you just a couple minutes ago. scribbled very messy in the corner is room 406

he reached out taking the paper to read. this allowed you some time to look over the stranger. he was quite intimidating. a shadow looming over him as if he was something you should definitely not associate with. he was a bit older then you, maybe a couple years or so. he didn’t have any wrinkles, but his face looked tired. eyes downcast, hair disheveled. what caught your attention though was the multiple cuts on his knuckles and the scar in the corner of his lip. was he part of a gang?

that didn’t stop your eyes from wandering a little more. you’d definitely never approach him willingly on the streets, yet you couldn’t stop the heat crawling up your neck. he was much bigger then anyone you’ve ever met. if you squint just a tiny bit you could see the subtle bulge—

“anyone taught you manners, kid?” your eyes snapped up, face burning from embarrassment,

you gasp. “I’m not a kid—how old are you—“

“older than you,” he quipped with a sly grin, handing you back the paper.

“the land lord’s almost 90, the new apartment is 407, he must’ve forgot,” he watched as your brows pinched together, looking down at your paper. why were you so focused, and you still haven’t gotten up from your position on the floor. cute.

“oh, ah!” your hand slaps over your mouth, head shooting up as you apologized, over and over. I’m so sorry, I must’ve been knocking like crazy! it’s all my fault! I didn’t mean to bother you!

the only thing that stopped your frantic words was the warm hand on your head. your gaze meeting the deep green eyes. stunned, your lips parted a bit too cutely for him to handle. he couldn’t help himself. he was squatting at your height, petting your cute little head because you were getting all panicky over something so silly.

“don’t worry about it,” his words went straight into your chest, your eyes practically seeing hearts. he’s so nice! you were so wrong about him, you like his warm hand.

“moving in on yer own?” he asked, immediately noticing how jittery you’re getting, how cute.

you quickly tell him that the moving guys are downstairs, which you quickly come to regret since he removed his hand from your head to look over the side of the tokyo apartment building to see the small moving truck below.

“that’s good, it seems that everything’s sorted out,” he moved to go back inside his apartment, only to feel a small hand around his wrist. a small rush filled his chest, why did he hear his heart skip? he had to listen. once he looked under his arm, the almost 26 year old, felt his heart jump. your bright eyes looking up at him.

both hands holding his wrist, unknowingly squeezing your pretty tits up just for him to see. the little gloss on your wet lips had him feeling a certain way. all he could think of was petting your head as he helped you swallow his fat girth. he could read you perfectly, he knew your pretty eyes would fill with tears, it’s too big, but he’d still praise your pretty head off just for you to get all excited and continue slobbering all over him until his dick would twitch and—

“l/n y/n, it’s nice to meet you…” you gave a respectful nod, before looking up waiting desperately to find out who your kind neighbor’s name is. not once did your hand leave his wrist.

“toji.” nothing further said, yet he felt his heart beat a bit too loudly when he saw your pretty hair fly up a bit like some ghibli movie, you were too excited.

“toji-san,” you repeated the name to feel how it sounded on your lips, not realizing that it too gave the man a similar reaction. his cheeks dusting a light pink as he felt a strain in his loose sweats. how could she be even cuter?

the encounter was not the only one you had with the mysterious man. you often heard him coming back to his apt at odd hours of the night. sometimes when you’d be buying a drink at the vending machine, you’d hear toji on the phone arguing. he tended to do that a lot. some encounters he’d have gave you the creeps. what does he do?

you obviously didn’t voice it, but you enjoyed running into him during your late night convenience store runs. you used to think it was a fun coincidence, but now it was something you looked forward to every Tuesday and Friday night’s. I guess you both needed something during these days..

“toji!” the man looked up hearing your voice. you smiled brightly jogging up to him in your big hoodie and little pajama shorts, his eyes took a quick glance at your bare legs. the small heat in his chest made him avert his gaze, but he waited allowing you to come over to him before he pushed off the fence and walked with you to the store.

“how was classes?” toji had a habit of asking about your classes. you never voiced this to him, but you knew he was really interested….

“what’re you working on?” toji sat across from you in your little apartment living room. you’d invited him saying you made too much food and he quickly took up the offer, not refusing a free meal.

“physics,” you mumble, mind focused on your problem as you leaned against your arm writing down the formula. toji was silent as he watched you, eating every couple of seconds only to pause, infatuation consuming him as he watched your eyes dart around the page as he followed along with your equation.

“is it fun?” he could see the intrigue, your eyes lighting up as you looked up, nodding your head.

“i get stuck sometimes, but when I figure out the equation it’s really fun!” you gush, cheeks dusting with excitement. toji blinked, biting his smile as he snorted.

“nerd,” his reply only had you taking fake offense.

as annoying and bothersome your neighbor could be. he had his own way of being considerate and subtly asking how you’re doing. you can’t help the butterflies it sets off. he doesn’t like talking about personal matters, yet always asks how you are.

toji, however, didn’t need a single thing from the store. but he began to notice your late night runs once you’d first moved in a semester and a half ago, which he really did not like. he began accompanying you because though Japan is considered a pretty safe country, it’s still not a guarantee, especially this late at night and in this neighborhood.

“why can’t you wait until the morning?” he’d ask you repeatedly, you’d come down for things that you wouldn’t even need that very night.

“cuz I’ll forget by the morning,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing ever. he hated how you do most of your errands at night, he hated it even more when he’d see you coming back late to your apt. but what can he do? you’re an adult, of course you’re free to do as you pleased. but that didn’t stop his stomach for turning.

the man’s eyes were focused on you, as you headed back in the direction of your building. you were going on and on about something that toji probably wouldn’t even care about if it was anyone else. but he enjoyed listening to you, he couldn’t help it when you were telling him about how your professor was praising you for your hard work and his hand was suddenly placed on your head. you stopped moving, blinking wide.

“you’re pretty smart, aren’t ya,” his deep voice had your eyes gazing up starstruck. his hand sent a wave of warmth through your body, feeling your heart beating in your ears. “such a good girl, I’m proud,” your cheeks stung with heat, the words caught in your throat because why? why did this man send your mind in shambles!

“tch, it’s not a big deal,” you try to brush off the praise, but toji can tell how much of an effect his has on you. you always melt whenever he touches your head. what would happen if he just kissed you right now? would you part your pretty lips for him? let him swallow up your whimpers—you were dazed, staring up into his deep warm eyes. he’d tease you about your homework one day, then praise you the next. you were unsure, confused, but that didn’t stop your chest from warming up.

“i—“

“ahh toji, we’ve been waiting!” your words were cut by the three men taking a smoke against a dark suv in your buildings lot. they all were big, just like toji, their arms and necks tatted, which had an uneasy feeling settle in your stomach.

“are they your friends?” you bit your cheek feeling how he retracted his hand, the two of you still walking, toji a bit more cautiously. the elevator was beside where the men were parked. you looked over at toji once he didn’t respond. feeling the hairs on your arm stick up, heart beating a little faster. his jaw was clenched, a vein bulging, and hand curled into a fist, and his eyes…they were as dark as night. “toji—“

“cmon man! we’ve been waiting for awhile now,” one of the men spoke, suddenly taking a beat until you caught his eye. “oh oh.”

your body jumped feeling toji’s hand rest on your lower back. his body almost pressing against your side like a guard dog. your eyes wavered on the men looking at you up and down.

“are ya havin’ fun with your little toy?” you felt a shiver run up your spine, feeling a warm breath against your ear.

“go straight to your apartment,” he was so close! your heart skipped a beat as he gave your lower back a little nudge in the direction.

“to—“ you looked over your shoulder, only to see that his eyes were dead set on the men across the lot. the street light casting a looming shadow over his face, his unkept hair darkening his eyes. yet…. he took a moment to meet your gaze, immediately letting his dark orbs soften with a reassuring grin.

“make sure you lock the door,” your heart flutters, “okay?” he waits for your little nod then points his head to the elevator, “good girl,” your body filled with butterflies as you calmly made way to the elevator. his eyes keeping a close watch on the men. he doesn’t move until the elevator doors finally close shut.

after your shower you tried your best to stay up, you felt a little uneasy about the situation. but you wanted to know if toji got back home safely. however, sleep overpowered your mind and you quickly knocked out on your comfy grey couch………

“we’re taking you to a hospital,” toji was holding you close as he called for the men to get an ambulance. your hand grasped his shirt, shaking your head.

“don’t,” you let out a small sigh, trying to calm down. your mind was in scrambles, desperately trying to think rationally. luckily you didn’t suspect anything to be broken.

“fuck you mean? please just listen to—“

“I said no!” you finally shout, letting go of the man, instead hugging your own body as you carefully stood up. toji swearing under his breath……..

you hadn’t seen toji in quite some time, he always seemed to be out when you’d come back home. you didn’t want to admit it, but you missed him. you missed walking with him at night. you missed giving him some extra food you’d ordered. you missed his comforting smile and warm hand. you never minded having him watch you do your homework. you wondered if he wanted to do more of your old homework.

“I finally got the tickets, cmon!” your friend, suna, had been going on about seeing this underground fight a couple months ago, however, you and your other friends didn’t believe him. suna took it a little too personally and desperately tried to buy tickets for months, and now he’s finally got them.

“this place is shady as hell,” you mumbled, yoru was holding your sleeve as you followed suna and your other two friends down the long dark alleyway, already picking up on the loud cheers and screaming.

after a few more seconds of walking, the small corridor burst into a huge underground stadium. your eyes blinking from the sudden bright lights.

“hey, stay close,” suna took your wrist leading you and yoru carefully past the huge bodies of people cheering.

“there’s so many people,” yoru shouted, your eyes trailing over the many different kinds of people that were here. it varied from high class businessmen, to normal average civilians. everyone seemed to be here.

“you guys should be on your knees thanking me,” suna boosted, you and your other friends rolling your eyes. “the price for this is not cheap,” neither of you said anything, considering how suna was a trust fund baby.

little did you know that the moment you’d stepped into the stadium, you caught a man’s unwanted attention. he’d only seen you once with toji, how beautiful, he thought, a sinister smile spreading across his teeth.

you all were watching the fights. it wasn’t like anything you’ve seen before. suna had told you guys earlier that this wasn’t the most legal friendly place, but you honestly could not have suspected this.

the rules of boxing had clear illegal moves, yet those rules did not seem to apply here. your body would cringe at the horrific sounds of bones breaking, fists breaking skin. the gruesome sounds sent your stomach turning, especially with this being with wraps instead of protective gloves like in a usual boxing match.

it was five different fights and you were getting close to the final one when a man by the name of raido, suddenly appeared in front of you. “you look like you’re enjoying the game,” his eyes closed in what seemed to be a kind smile. you felt a bit uneasy, but nodded your head, then looking past him to put out that you’re not interested.

“we’ve got some empty seats in the front,” he continued going on, this caught suna’s ear. “of course you can bring your nice little friends with you,”

“no tha—“

“holy fuck yes!” suna immediately jumps up, dragging you all with him as you scold him.

“suna!” you all hit him, clearly noticing how off putting this man is. he had tattoos that peaked under his dress shirt, he smelled of cigarettes, alcohol, and blood, and what was even more disturbing was the sunglasses. you couldn’t see where he was looking.

you kept an eye as the man, walking back to his seat, he seemed pretty important considering he had a place high in the stadium that overlooked the entire place. he whispered to the men he was sitting with, they all turned to meet your gaze.

“shit—“ you looked away, heart thumping as you prayed they didn’t catch you staring. luckily the next fighters were coming into the ring. finally allowing you a chance to breathe—“

suddenly you felt your dinner clawing up your throat.

“huh…”

“what is it?” yoru noticed your eyes wide open, staring straight ahead. “y/n—“

“and the moment you’d all been waiting for! the reason why any of you are here! the emperor of the night! tooooooojjjjjiiiiiii zeninnnnn!!!” the stadium burst with screams.

you couldn’t breathe. it felt like everything around you had gone quiet. you missed him. you cursed yourself. it’s been over three weeks or more, and now he was here. you felt your heart hammering. your mind dazed as he took of his robe. chills ran through your body at the sight. you would never have guessed. you only ever saw him with a hoodie or loose sweater, but now stripped down to just some boxing shorts, you had a clear view of the dragon tattoo that decorated his broad sculpted back. his bicep showcasing another collection of tattoos that wrapped around his arms. his sculpted thighs branded as well.

“y/n!” you were brought back by yoru’s concerned shaking, you apologize brushing her off so you can watch him. you didn’t know much about boxing honestly, but knowing this was not following the rules made you feel uneasy seeing toji here.

the night spent in your apartment as he looked through your old exams. you knew he had secrets, he rarely spoke about them except that he started working at a young age. he didn’t have time for studies. he’d always say you’re smarter than him. yet, he would be invested in your old homework. writing old problems down “just for fun”. the constant scratching of his head. his green eyes scanning the page as he tapped the end of the pencil against his scar on his lip.

“how’d you get this?” he’d shyly mumble, only for you to show him how you arrived at the right answer. he held onto every single word. he liked it. he liked it even more when you’d explain it to him kindly, no yelling, no degrading, just a simple explanation; and he’d get it. he wasn’t dumb…no… you think he was smarter than anyone you’ve ever met.

but he was in a place like this.

you wanted him to win. you didn’t want him getting hurt like the previous fighters. you wanted him to win so you can grab his hand and take him home…

toji’s feet pounded the ground, as big as he was, he was fast. faster than the fighters before. it was too easy for him. he dodged like no other, countered like no other, and punched like no other. as fun as this was for the crowd, it was not just a game for others. and for toji, it was a job.

he crashed onto the stool in his corner, spitting out some blood when his opponent got a cheap shot in. rinsing his mouth with the water his team fed him.

“fuck is taking you so long?” Raido suddenly appeared beside toji’s side, leaning against the ring. “you have a job.”

“I’ll rip that fucking flapper straight outta yer face if you speak to me that way, again,” his team was dead silent, frozen as ice. “you understand?” raido could not answer. instead he made the mistake of letting his eyes flicker up for barely a second. yet toji immediately caught his line of vision and he felt his entire body run cold.

“what is she doing here?” toji suddenly stood up, his eyes were dark, body boiling.

“boss, the rounds starting,” one of his men was waiting for toji to open his mouth to put the mouth guard on. toji couldn’t think clearly, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath he took.

yoru was yelling constantly in your ear. your eyes wavering between her and the ring. you couldn’t catch raido’s smirk as he strides back to his seat. he was lucky, if you weren’t here, he didn’t know if he’d be able to succeed, that’s only if his men gave him the correct information. if the boss truly likes you then…

“what’s this!!” the audience is in screams, having just witnessed the cleanest maneuvering and a clear hook the immediately knocks his opponent out, jaw definitely broken. “The emperor of the night!” suna was going absolutely ballistic beside you.

toji couldn’t cheer, his eyes instead settled on the men in the booth high up in the stands, raido whispering in their ears as they boiled with anger. he’d won… he’d won, but he hadn’t completed what was expected of him. what was ordered of him. his opponent was to have a minimum of two broken limbs in the course of seven rounds, and yet he’s won with a simple knockout in just three rounds. of course it was for one reason only…

he didn’t need you seeing him like that.

what he’d thought was something to spare you, only seemed to shine a huge spotlight on how deeply you affect the “boss”. it wasn’t hidden either, no, it was definitely shown to everyone else, friend and enemy as raido came forth slipping something into the hosts pocket.

“as we do every night, an audience member is chosen to greet the champion with his medal!” the audience bursting with excitement. “and our winner is!” The host takes out the slip of paper from his pocket and reads of the seat number.

“C8” the audience fell silent as they all looked to the front rows, waiting for the winner to stand.

“that’s you y/n!” yoru yelped, suna gasping as your friends stared at you dumbfounded.

“have we found our winner?” The host shouted. “ahh what a beautiful young lady!” the audiences that could see, were letting out whistles. “now don’t be shy.” you felt uncomfortable under the eyes of the entire stadium, your eyes briefly glancing up at the stands, shivering to see all the men in suits practically feasting on you with their greedy eyes.

your heart beating was the only thing you could hear. your friends shoving you forward didn’t help either. you silently prayed for it to be you, you wanted to see him closer. you didn’t want anyone else near him, touching him, looking at him—but…but now…now you wanted to run away, you didn’t like it. you didn’t like the way he was looking at you.

his warm eyes and gentle smile was not there. no instead their was an unfamiliar hardness replaced in the kneeled fighters face. raido held your hand, helping you into the ring as he handed you the medal to gift the fighter.

the stadium was filled with cheers and applause, you were dragging your feet, unaware of how close raido stayed, until you took another step forward and felt your body suddenly lunging forward. it was too fast to process, because suddenly your body was pressed firmly against toji’s warm body. you could feel his heart beating fast, and his hand was so softly resting on the back of your head. you hadn’t realized that he’d immediately took your wrist pulling you into his embrace.

“I guess the emperor also has a type!” the host laughed, taking the attention off the fighter as he joked, allowing raido to smirk at the fighter.

“seems like you’ve made your decision,” his words laced with snark and confidence.

“big talk after the fact,” toji couldn’t help the deep laugh that was crawling it’s way up his chest. you felt goosebumps erupt on your skin feeling his chest rumble with laughter. “ahh I guess I like games too,” toji’s glare immediately had raido averting his gaze as he walked away, not before looking down at you.

there was a brief moment of silence. he was sweaty, sticky, and clearly bothered. but his arms were careful not to hurt you.

“what’re you doing here?” his voice had shifted tones, suddenly your mind could immediately recognize he was directing this to you.

“I came with my friends,” you gulp.

“if I ever catch you here again—“ your head pushes off to look him in the eyes, letting his words be directed at you and not the air, he falls silent. words caught in his throat, green eyes wavering as he met your bright ones. he cursed himself even more, his heart was hammering uncontrollably.

“who are you to tell me—“ his hand pulls you to his shoulder, fingers behind your neck as your eyes looked past his shoulder feeling his lips tickle your cheek as he spoke.

your mind flashes to the night your classmate walked you home. you spent some extra time in the lab to finish some work and test out a certain theory you wanted to run by your professor. you could tell your lab partner was trying to get with you. he constantly hit on you, flirted during your labs, but he was pretty charming. so you weren’t afraid when he asked to walk you home.

toji had been roaming around the building. he knocked on your door a few hours ago. he’d ordered some food for when you get back. this time it was his treat. you were always home at this hour. why do I care? toji was coming back from getting a drink from the store when he noticed the exchange happening in front of the building.

you were holding your bag, lips moving as you spoke with your hands. the unfamiliar man stood in front, his eyes darting over your figure. his fingers grazing your exposed shoulder—

“ah!” your body was suddenly yanked back, hitting a firm body. “toji?” glancing over your shoulder at the man holding your wrist, meeting your gaze. why did he do that? he had no clue what was going on. “this is my lab par—“

“I ordered thai,” he cuts you off. he was praying you couldn’t see the warm heat crawling up his ears.

“oh, okay, I’ll be right up—“

“it’ll get cold, you don’t like cold drunken noodles,” he said holding your wrist a bit more gently as he pulled you with him. ignoring all the alarms going off in his head.

“y/n—“ your lab partner called, as you glanced over your shoulder.

“I’ll send over the report tomorrow morning,” unbeknownst to you, toji was glaring aggressively at the man. a giant guard dog looming over you, immediately making him feel unsafe as he quickly went off.

“did you wait long?” you opened your apartment, allowing toji to sit in the living room, legs crossed as he opened up the food, laying it out.

“no,” his tongue darted out touching his scar. eyes following your form as you disappeared into your room. the door slightly ajar, self control wasn’t something toji was familiar with. especially when it came to you. he couldn’t help his eyes from watching your form pull over your top.

fuck, his gaze dragged over the brief glimpses of your naked back. he wondered how his rough hands would feel against the soft skin, how his lips would feel as he searched the spot that’d make you whine. why’re his pants getting tight, he gulped seeing you slip on a loose fitting tshirt, kicking off your pants.

his mind ran wild. eyes darkening, he wanted to bend you over right there. he wanted to feel your ass against his palm, he wanted to kiss your shoulder, stroke his palm down to your warm pussy. how wet would you be? would you shy under his gaze or rut against his hand. ahh he’d peel your pretty pink panties to the side and pull his fat length—

“you didn’t have to wait,” you quickly shuffled out of the room, yellow shorts flowing against your glowing thighs, plopping down in front of your neighbor.

“you’re the one that likes having the first bite,” he quips, ignoring the bulging hard on he’s carrying for you.

“nuh-uh, I just like—“ his fingers slip a spring roll in your mouth,

“having the first bite,” he finishes, watching you take a bite, cheeks heating aggressively as he brushed the crumbs from your lips.

“you my maid now?” you say with a mouth full, trying to conceal your arousal.

“you’d like that. like it when i feed you?” he tilts his head, eyes half lidded as he watched you blink. “cat got your tongue?”

“no,” you huff, embarrassed how flustered you’re getting.

“open your mouth,” his command automatically had your lips parting as he slipped in a noodle, not bothering to use his chopsticks, allowing his fingers to touch your wet lips. your lips enclosed around his two fingers.

“you like sucking on my fingers?” his experience with previous women, was able to shield his beating heart. so infatuated with your warm mouth licking his finger, rolling over the pads of his rough digit. he swore under his breath, pulling his fingers out as he dragged your bottom lip down. your tongue lulling out in submission.

“are you still a virgin?” his thumb pulled at your bottom lip. your legs were clenching together, a warmth pooling inside your light pink panties. shifting for some friction.

“you have a corruption kink or something?” you bite his thumb.

“not necessarily,” he swears as you suck on his thumb, eyes fluttering as you open your lips to take little breaths. “you like sucking on people’s fingers?” his pupils were dilating.

“your not just people,” you reply, toji cursing at your flustered state.

“you’re not hungry?” he bites his cheek, shifting his weight feeling his dick straining.

“oh, ya,” your lips peeling away from his thumb as toji brushes his hand atop your head. petting you as you generously ate the food he’d ordered. your eyes would dart up to meet his, but he only ate his food as if you hadn’t just been sucking on his fingers, visibly turned on by it too. instead, toji helped you clear the rest of the food as he cleaned it up.

“you have more work?” he walked back into the small living room seeing your papers now piled on the table. your hand switching between jotting notes with your pencil, to typing quickly on your laptop.

“I have a report I need to finish up,” toji suddenly remembered the encounter earlier. he was unfamiliar with this feeling. he couldn’t understand why he pulled you away from that kid. and he couldn’t reason why he isn’t sitting in his usual place across from you, but instead plants himself behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

your body was on a fire. huh? “you t-tired?” you cleared your throat trying to remain calm.

“thought I’d keep ya company,” he mumbled, lips pressing feather like kisses on your exposed neck. your eyes fluttered as his hand brushed your exposed thigh. “you’re burning up,” he whispers, causing your head to lull back on his shoulder as his palm generously squeezed your hip. “I’m distracting you?”

“ya,” you sigh, whimpering oh so softly.

“if I asked you to let my eat your pussy, how wet would you get?” your definitely blew a fuse. head steaming as you clenched around nothing, definitely soaking your panties completely. Toji’s head went back in laughter.

“asshole!” you elbow his side, making him groan. “don’t tease virgins! it’s not nice!” you turn back to your work, desperately trying to calm your body.

toji settled peacefully behind you. eyes following your homework as if he wasn’t sporting a hard boner that was pressed against your lower back.

“toji-“

“keep working, I’ll keep up,” he reassured, ignoring your stiff body until you returned to your work. shoulders slowly relaxing, body easily molding in his embrace as he’d mumble here and there. couldn’t you also use this formula? how’d you get to that? his fingers danced on your thigh, gently massaging the flesh of your inner thigh, his warm palm had a wave of heat coursing down south, and he didn’t care.

his fingers would tickle as he crawled higher up to the pulsing heat. your shorts loose enough for his fingers to slip inside your pant hole and tickle your panties. your breathing hitched as toji continued talking as if this was just one of your normal little sessions. it was a good distraction.

“I’m sorry,” toji retracted his hand, you were too focused on your work to hear what he’d said, but his hand returned to your thigh.

nothing happened after. toji fell asleep beside you, legs stretched out under the table as he laid on his side, arm swung over your lap as you finished up your work before you too crashed on the floor. and yet…here you are now…

“you wanna act like a bratty little college kid, then go get fucking wasted at some fucking party and stay up late smokin’ pot, fuck if I care,” his voice dropped, warm breath only sending a cold feeling across your body, “go on a date somewhere else. get your pussy wet fucking on some ferris wheel,” you felt sick the more he went. “but don’t you dare come back here.” your heart wouldn’t stop pounding. “do I make myself clear?”

you aggressively try to push him away only for his grip to tighten clearly not finished. “you’re a big fucking problem, we talk a couple times doesn’t give you any idea what position you’ve put me in. I’m not your fucking boyfriend or some shitty friend; you’re nothing to me. so you’re going to leave and I never…never want to see your face again.”

you finally get free with a harder push, falling back on your ass. eyes wavering on his face. you couldn’t recognize him. this wasn’t the same man who’d walk with you late at the night, he wasn’t the kind man that would pat your head whenever you did something good…no…this wasn’t him.

the long nights spent in your apartment explaining equations, only for him to gradually catch up in which he’s finally beginning to understand the problems on his own. sharing food as you’d lean over the table to correct his problems and he wouldn’t feel insecure in the least bit that you’re a girl and you’re helping him. smarty pants, don’t let it get to your head.

“y/n—“ your friend’s calls fall on deaf ears as you quickly made your exit, ignoring everything and everyone around you.

toji quietly watched until you were completely out of his sight. allowing him the opportunity to have his full attention on the men in the booth. dead men walking………

“what’re you doing?” toji stood from his spot as he watched you walking down the path, clearly trying to get back home. “y/n!”

you didn’t answer, instead focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, one arm across your stomach holding your side, as the other wiped the tears that felt endless.

the fighters jaw clenched as he watched you completely ignore him. his chest filling with frustration because how could this have happened. it was a message—someone was definitely targeting you in order to get to him—

a sudden yelp had toji immediately kicking off the pavement, arm around your waist keeping you from hitting the ground. you struggled in his hold, desperately trying to wiggle out “let…go,” your hands were clawing at his forearm, whining when he wouldn’t set you free.

“let me help you—“

“no!” you shout, only to whimper quickly after, suddenly feeling the kicks you received earlier. “I’m doing you a favor.”

“what’re you talkin—“

“you didn’t want me! I’m sparring you the trouble it’ll cause,” toji could feel your body trembling, your eyes stinging with anger and pain.

“hey…hey, take a deep breath, can you do that for me?” toji sets aside any of his own thoughts in order to calm your mind. talking you through deep breaths as he carefully kept his arm around your waist, until you were stepping into your apartment. sitting you down on the couch and moving to the bathroom.

“I guess it really would be trouble,” you mumble faintly, however, the man is able to pick up on it as he opens the first aid supplies. his green eyes flickering up to see your own swollen ones staring outside.

“I’m sorry,” your eyes return to him, watching as he gently cleans the cut on your lip and cheek. you don’t look at him. look at me, please! his thoughts were scrambled. no don’t, I don’t deserve it…

you felt your chest tighten, feeling the weight—he buried his face in your lap, hands gripping the sides of your long green skirt. your lips trembling as you watched his shoulders shake with anger. he’d unbuttoned your cream shirt, and he physically felt nauseous.

he’s caused worse, he’s received worse. but the dark bruise on your side looked like the worst possible damage in the world to him.

“why’re you mad?” your jaw clenched, blood boiling at his audacity. he had no right.

“I’ll kill them,” his words were muffled, he couldn’t think straight. “I’ll kill then all—“

“why?” his head snapped up, looking at you as if you’d just asked the most bizarre question ever.

“why?” he repeated, trying desperately to control his breathing, yet his eyes continued to look at the dark purple bruise.

“yes. why,” you pushed his hands off you, cursing as you stumbled only for his hands to come up to your waist, allowing you another chance to push them away.

“why? because they fucking hurt you!” he shouted, no longer able to contain his anger. especially with how loose you’re taking this. “you’re bleeding, and bruised—“

“nothings broken,” you snap back, staring out the window, not giving him the time of day.

“don’t be stupid.”

“what?” you whip your head over your shoulder, brows pinched. “you’ve come back with black eyes, the guys in that ring have broken bones, smashed in faces—“

“fuck kinda comparison are you tryna make here?!”

“the one between you and me,” your eyes were leaking, unbothered as you ripped out the pages throwing them piece by piece. “I’m the fucking problem, but I’m the one that you always come too. I’m hurt, but you’re always angry! you’re always angry even if you’re quiet even when you’re teasing me. I’m the idiot, but you’re an even bigger one!”

he stood silent.

“I left you alone because I thought… that it would stop your pain,” toji felt his heart squeeze, he didn’t like seeing you like this. what’s happening right now? of course this is his fault. when is it ever not his fault!? he’s brought this life on you, he caused this. only you’ve ever called him smart, but this man was nothing close to being smart. instead letting his mouth speak on foolish impulse.

“maybe i need to get further away.”

your tears collecting in your broken eyes. throat dry, lungs gradually running out of air over the course of the night.

“fuck…fuck y-“ you were holding your chest, clawing at your skin as you ran out of oxygen, breathing turning into hiccups for air. toji was an idiot.

stupid mouth. his body never listens. immediately holding you as he kneeled with your falling body.

“y/n! y/n, listen to my voice,” he held your cheek as you gasped for air, your panic attack sending your mind into a state of shock. “calm down…breathe, babygirl.”

your nails dug into his wrist, getting scared the more you tried to calm down. “breathe with me, come on, I know you’re a smart girl.” he held your hand letting you place it on your stomach allowing you a conscious physical feeling of breathing in and out, as he did it with you.

the panic attack slowly began to subside as you took in a few more deep breaths. his warm hand littered with scars and open cuts, gently caressed your cheek. your eyes gazing up at him, you hated him. but that didn’t stop you from squeezing his wrist.

his heart couldn’t shut up, what am I doing? this was not what he’d been preaching. quite the opposite. this was the closest he’s been to you. arms protectively holding you close. his cheek propped on his elbow as he gazed down at your sleeping form. cheeks still a bit damp. your scent engulfing him as he felt high.

“idiot.”

“are you still mad at me?” toji leaned against the vending machine as he watched you walk past him. you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder for the past month. and yet, he still stayed on you like a lost puppy.

“you’re the one that’s mad,” you roll your eyes, laughing to yourself when he’d do his routine of jogging up beside you, hands deep in his pockets as he accompanied you in your night shopping.

“why’re you still going out at night?” he huffed, frowning as he tilted his head staring at you from the side.

“I have errands.”

“which can be done later. can’t you be more cautious?” his jaw clenched.

“but you’re here,” you finally look at him. he blinks for a moment, noticing that the bruise on your cheek has healed, along with the cut on your lip.

“well, i won’t always be,” he bit his cheek, noticing your gaze still on him.

“then leave,” you pick up the pace. toji was starting to grow frustrated. you were not cautious. you went about your life as if there’s no risk. you didn’t care if it was night or day. you did as you pleased as if you hadn’t experienced a traumatizing event a month ago. and that terrified the man.

his hand held your arm, turning you back to him. “what’s going on? what’s the problem?”

“you tell me?” you shove back at him.

“you!” why does he always get so angry. “you’re the fucking problem!” toji cursed over and over. “why can’t you listen to me?”

“you’re nothing to me,” you threw his words back at him. he clenched his jaw.

“what do you want from me?” he needed you, he needed you so badly, but you can not choose him. he won’t allow you to trust him. not even if he’d give his life for you.

“you—“ your jaw clenched as well. he always makes your blood boil. “you’re just an idiot,” you burst. “fucking idiot!” you stomp away. “fuck you!”

“fuck you!” he yelled back.

toji cursed following you to and back from the store. “y/n!” toji called as you sped to your apartment, only for the door to slam in his face. “fuck me.”

his shoulders dropped, leaning his head against your door. what is he doing? he can’t put you through this, yet he already is. he was unfamiliar with this feeling. longing for someone. he didn’t like how calm he felt in your company. how his stomach churned whenever you’d meet his eyes with you’re bright and pure ones. you were too good for him. you were smart and ambitious. you had no limits, but if he was there he’d only drag you down. he wasn’t good for you.

the blood splattered on the floor. the cheers faded in the background as toji rolled his shoulders back. he was surprised to see the opponent rise to his feet. he usually had no thoughts except the job in mind during these matches. yet, it always gets scrambled when one person faces him.

not here.

your arms and legs crossed, leaning against the seats in the second row, chin up as you maintained eye contact on the ring, specifically the star of the night.

toji could not afford to loose out on the money. he’d already gotten to the sixth round, barely keeping this opponent alive in order to break his right arm, and two ribs. but you’re here. why!

“fuck!” toji rinsed his mouth with the water. letting his team slip the guard back in his mouth, eyes sharp as he met your gaze. he was angry. feral. but you stay unfazed.

fuck it. this is what you wanted. he wanted you to leave him. so he’ll lay out all his cards. no limits.

he looked like a beast, his agility was superhuman, and his strength could not compare to anyone else. he snapped the man’s arm with a quick and calculated jab to the joint, and a hook directly hitting his bottom two ribs, cracking them instantly. the man’s scream and the sound of bones breaking made audiences cheer or look away gagging.

your grip was tight, nails digging into your bicep as you averted your eyes down. your heart was hammering. what’re you doing here? you’re asking for it now! but you looked up, as horrified as you felt, it didn’t compare to the complete and utter hurt in toji’s eyes.

you stayed seated, people jumping around you, an audience member handing toji another medal, that was cheap and easily disposable. his looming form stood back up, taking quick and long strides across and out of the ring, until an arm wrapped around your bicep.

“ow!” you wince, his strength was something you couldn’t compete with. “owww toji!”

“this hurts?” he snaps, not letting go until you’ve made it all the way outside, having gone through a back passage, as he finally let go of you. the sounds of cars and a bustling night city in the distance.

“you hurt me!” you yell back.

“was I? I didn’t know,” his words laced with sarcasm. his hands rubbing his face. he was angry. “are you dumb?”

“no.”

“yes,” his eyes follow you. arms crossed again.

“why’re you so mad?” you’re really pushing his buttons.

“I’m the idiot!?” he exclaims. “Me!? fuck me!”

“you said I’m nothing, so why do you care so much? honestly it’s hypocritical. I can do what I want—“

“no you can’t! do you like acting like a fucking brat? you’re not allowed here—“

“who says?”

“me!” his chest is fuming, eyes wide and tired. “I said I don’t want to see you here.”

“no you said you never wanted to my face ever again. anywhere. but you’ve been breaking your dumbass rule over and over again. so it’s only fair that I do too,” his jaw clenches. “and I’m not a brat.”

“go home, y/n,” toji turns around, there’s no use wasting his breath. you’ve always been stubborn, since the day you’ve met. at least he dragged you away from the eyes inside—

his breath hitched. a weight pressed up against his back. toji felt his heart pulse, swallowing slowly as he feels your arms tighten around his fit waist. your hands were always so cold, so why was his body on fire? your face pressed deeper against his shoulder blades. “let go.”

“no,” you can feel your heart beating against your chest, stomach churning as you hold onto him so dearly. “I’m not leaving without you.” the fighter swears under his breath, eyes clenched tight recalling all the blood on his hands, the ghosts of the past. yet here’s an angel unable to let go of a monster—

“y/n, i said let go,” his hands try to pull your wrists off him, but you’re grasping onto him so desperately as you shake your head behind him. “stop acting like this!”

he’s able to get free, spinning around to face you. your hands balled into fists. he doesn’t need to say anything, he can easily read your expression. your lip jutted out, your eyes darting between his devoid of any ounce of doubt. his breath hitched. why are you so obsessed with getting hurt?

he left again—

that didn’t seem to work though. you were persistent. you came almost every night. watching every single one of his matches. it didn’t matter if you had work all day or exams the night morning. you would still show up. he would shout, yell, curse—repeatedly urging you to fucking listen to him—

“It’s fucking dangerous! what don’t you get?!”

“well that’s my fucking problem then,” you shrug, only causing the fighter to slam his fist behind you, cursing as the concrete alley wall broke the skin of his knuckles.

“fuck me,” his head dropped, brows scrunched. he can’t do everything. living this kind of life and having you. it was impossible. “I need to keep you safe.” he mumbles.

“i don’t need saving—“

“yes, you do,” he feels your delicate hand lift his head. “why’re you doing this to me? you’re always messing with my head,” he curses, your hands feel so nice. they could probably cleanse him of everything he once was, the horrors of his life and the trauma of the past. but he didn’t need the dirt staining you too.

“I’m not doing anything,” you answer, thumb carefully touching the scar on his lip. heart fluttering as his eyes fell to your lips. his entire being was fighting not to crash his lips onto yours. he wanted to know what you felt like. he could’ve done it with you ages ago, but it didn’t feel right. he didn’t want to disappear the next day. if he wanted to have you, he’d become obsessed—

“do I have to choose?” you couldn’t fully understand his predicament. you didn’t even know how dark his past was. but to you it didn’t matter. none of it mattered except that you could see the giant burden that had this man walking with a weight on his shoulders. living a life of crime and misery, when he had so much potential. potential that he thought to be useless, that was told by others was useless. but not to you. he was a diamond in the rough, and you were not letting that go.

“up to you,” you pulled away this time. as much as you held on, you couldn’t chain him down. he had to set himself free, you just gave him the key.

you knew what you were doing was dangerous. but you only had his best interests in mind—

the banging on the door startled you up. your eyes wavering at the extensive pounding. fuck fuck fuck, you messed up big time! it was because you kept going to his fights, now those men are here to kill you! skin you alive! fuck!

“shit,” you tripped getting off the couch, banging your side on the coffee table, hand quickly slapping over your mouth. the bangs were not stopping, praying the killer hadn’t heard you. your knees scurry across the floor reaching for the baseball bat—

“y/n, open the fucking door!” your hand freezes on the bat, ears perking. “y/n! come on I know you’re here!—“

“don’t fucking scare me like that!” you shout, swinging the door open, only to stumble back as toji grabbed hold of you. “what the fu—“ your eyes blow wide. “what the fuck!”

toji was drenched in blood. face splattered, arms and clothes—

“are you okay?!” his hand held your face, looking over it.

“me? what’re you—look at yourself!” your eyes couldn’t catch up with all the blood. was it his?

“stop yelling!”

“you’re yelling!” you curse as toji holds your wrist dragging you into the apartment. his hands moving around grabbing alcohol as he began listing a bunch of things as you ran from your apartment to his, not having time to look around before running back and dropping everything on the table.

“what do I do?” your eyes were shifting from toji’s face and his heaving body. suddenly feeling a warm weight press on your head.

“deep breath,” his voice sunk into your mind, gaze meeting as you swallowed thickly. “you’re fine?”

“stop asking that—“

“you’re fine? right?” his stern words immediately sent a flutter swarming inside you.

“yes…I’m fine,” your brows pinched together as he brushed his thumb across . “who’s bloo—“

“not mine…” he sighs tilting his head back against the couch. “not all of it is mine.” he takes a deep breath, “cut my shirt,” you immediately grab the scissors, cutting open his shirt, swallowing at the bloodied clothes as it fell down. you’re eyes darted around his body, the multiple scars and tattoos facing you now, but the bullet wounds on his side stood out.

“I’m not a surgeon—“

“you’re a nerd, don’t you read books?” he quips. your face shifting into anger, “there there, don’t get wet on me. I’ll talk you through it,” toji held your face, you’re panicked eyes couldn’t wrap your head around this. “now grab that scalpel—“

this didn’t seem like the first time something like this had happened. but it was the first time he was asking someone for help. his eyes followed your face, you’d mumble back to him after every order. “liking science doesn’t make me a surgeon.”

“just a bratty nerd, gonna run your mouth all night?” toji tsked, “ow! fuck!”

“maybe remember who has the knife right now.”

“scalpel, dummy,” toji corrects.

“scalppel, dummy,” you mimic, rolling your eyes with a huff. toji had a mouth on him, but it really came out when you had to dig for the bullet in his side.

“sorry,” you cringe, watching toji fall back on the couch.

“forgot how clumsy your hands are,” he sighed, your hands were shaky and it wasn’t helping. but eventually you pulled out the bullet and continued listening to his instructions.

“are you usually this submissive?” he was patting your head, eyes half lidded as he watched you work. you were wearing your pajamas. it was past midnight, his eyes flickering up to see your show paused. it was a bad habit of yours, staying up late to binge show.

“just when you’re half dead,” toji snorts.

“worth it,” his eyes follow your concentrated face, nose scrunched up as you finish stitching his hip.

“why are you not explaining anything?” your eyes dart to catch his.

“you didn’t ask,” he maintains eye contact. his smile only causing you to raise a brow.

“why’re you smiling?” you cut the end of the suture.

“is that not allowed?”

“it’s creepy.”

“you don’t like anything I do,” he rests his head to the side, staring up at you as you cover his stitches.

“that’s no true,” you mumble, still focused on treating him.

“then tell me,” his hand reaches up, cupping your cheek.

“huh?”

“tell me what you like about me?” his body was exhausted, yet he still had time to make you feel anxious, butterflies swarming inside you.

“i-i…” your face was heating up, words getting caught in your throat. “maybe you tell me what you like about me first!”

“your head,” toji easily answers. you snort, only for him to continue. “you’re the smartest person I know.” his grin suddenly has your chest warming. “you’re a good teacher.” his hand slides down to hold your hand instead, playing with your small fingers. “you’re pretty cute when you help me out. you rant a lot, and go on about stuff that I don’t fully get, but it’s cute in its own way. especially when we’re together here and you get nervous when I—“

“stop!” toji looks up, heart swelling as he sees the flustered state he’s put you in. it was too easy. “why did you actually answer,” you’re looking down at your hands, the dried blood didn’t phase you.

“you asked.”

“I did but like…”

“not good with your feelings?” toji clicks his tongue.

“my feelings?!” you blurt, cheeks flushed. “you-you’re just…”

“just what?” his arms suddenly hoist you up, planting you on his lap.

“what’re you doing?” you yelp, holding his shoulders as he leans his head up, sly grin painted on his lips.

“nothing,” you almost blew a fuse. the fairy lights casted a shadow over his face, his pupils dilated, lips parted. why does he look so good right now? one second he was bleeding out on your couch, the other he’s fucking teasing you!

“don’t,” you cover your face quickly, trying desperately to control your breathing. if he had you…if you gave yourself up and he continued this life, you didn’t know if your heart could bare it. “I don’t like seeing you hurt.” your words were muffled.

“this was the last time,” his hands wrapped around your small hands. “no more fighting.” you allowed him to see your flustered face. your lips wet and pouty, eyes half lidded. oh fuck. “that’s not the kind of face of someone that’s worried.”

“I am!”

“then why do I wanna kiss you right now?” your breath hitched, cueing the man to crash his lips against yours not wasting a single second.

your mind burst. stunned whines fall on deaf ears as toji holds your neck, thumb pressing up on your jaw, tilting your head as he devoured your lips. tongue slipping into your inviting lips as you held his wrist.

“you’re done?” you pant, “you’re done with that life?” toji kisses your lips again, the pecks expressing how much he’s longed for this. “will everything be okay?”

his lips trailed down the column of your neck. “I’ll make it okay,” he bit down on your shoulder causing a moan to slip out. “as long as you’re here.”

your hands pulled his face back up, lips attacking his once again. he smiled feeling your inexperience desperately crave for his attention, how cute. he helped your lips move with his, tongue playing as he held your hip against him, feeling his own arousal stir up.

“is it gonna hurt?” you mumble, fingers tangled in his hair.

“I’ll open you up, so you’re all wet and loose fer me. I’ll stretch you-“

“wait!” toji looks up. stunned to see your flustered expression. “I meant is it gonna hurt you? you’re the one who’s beaten up!” you blurt, still trying to wrap your head around what he’d just said. toji broke into loud laugh, cackling as he slipped his hands under your shirt.

“you’re so cute,” he catches your bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling on the soft tissue as you whine. the man grins once he pulls away to see you chasing after his lips. his fingers dragging your shirt over your head.

your cheeks darken as you feel the breeze against your exposed chest. nipples perking up like good little buds.

“aww, you got all hard,” he cooes, almost sending you into a coma as he caresses the soft tissue. his hands were huge, molding your tits in his grip. thumbs circling the pretty pebbles.

“you’re staring too much,” you cower, hands going to his eyes, as toji chuckles.

“getting shy now?”

“no, just—stop staring, perve—ah,” your face twists, body almost convulsing as toji pinches your sensitive nipples, only to latch his lips around one. “what the—ahh, you’re,, hahh-ah you’re biting!”

your hands grip the back of his neck, hips lifting as he held your chest to his face, sucking dark bruises on your bouncy tits. his voice groaning as he stared up at you. so pretty…so pretty… he couldn’t stop. he wanted to see more. wanted to hear more. he needed to touch more.

“pullin my hair?” his chest rose and fell, cheeks flushed a dark pink as your fingers held the back of his head, holding him back with his hair.

“you just started touching me!” you were beyond flustered. your face and chest flushed, nipples so perky and wet, you looked so fucking gorgeous.

“I can leave.”

“will you?” your fingers loosened from his hair.

“no,” his lips ghosting your own. “i wanna kiss you. touch you…I wanna fuck you so good, sweetheart.” your legs tried to close, but you only pressed down on his lap. “you’d like that?” his lips curled up. it was too easy to read your body. “you’re still a virgin right?”

“you really do have a corruption kink!” you blurt, cheeks puffed. “ah-you’re always biting—toji!” your arms squeeze in, unconsciously pressing your tits together as your pretty voice rises. his teeth nibbling at your nipples again. only to lift you up, tossing you beside him.

“i only have one for you,” his lips trailed down your body, sucking and biting as you squirmed. fingers permanently in his hair as he relished in your rough pulling.

“how are you gonna open me up?” you use his words from earlier, panting softly as you held his hair. his eyes smiled as he licked his scar.

“how do you want me too?”

your cheeks were flushed, yet you’re able to suck up the courage to place your tongue between your middle and forefinger.

he kissed his teeth, “dirty fucking girl, who taught you that?” his dick throbbed in his pants watching you act up from how turned on you were.

“what if I’m not a virgin?” you didn’t know what you were saying, maybe you just wanted to see how he’d react. you didn’t expect his lips to curl into a sinister smile as you watched your shorts fly off your body.

“then I’ll have to fuck you until your pussy can only cum for me,” his lips licked your torso, biting down as you squirmed, whines music to his ears. “but looking at how drenched your cute panties are, I doubt you’re anything but a pretty little virgin desperate to get her pussy ate.”

“toji, you’re too foul mouthed,” you whine, contradicting your so called pride as your hips try to get him to go lower. pressing his head down.

“shit, you’re teasing me now,” he dropped his forehead on your belly, laughing as he rubbed the outside of your thighs, fingers curling around the pretty light pink panties. “let’s make you cry, baby.”

you gasped, toji ripping the material of your panties as he brought your panties up to his face. “these are cute,” he grins watching your face steaming.

“stop doing weird stuff!” you slap his chest lightly, afraid of hurting him.

“just complimenting you, pretty,” he inhales the material, causing you to cry in embarrassment. “fine, fine, I’ll do that on my own,” he teases.

“perve!” he opens your legs nice and wide for his eyes. pupils dilating to a high at the jaw dropping sight. you forget your embarrassment, caught off guard by his reaction. he was mesmerized.

“fuck baby, fuck you were hiding this for so long,” toji was audibly groaning at the sight. pre-cum staining his boxers as his big cock throbbed at the sight. your pussy was finally visible to his eyes, his rough hands keeping them open as he watched your gapping hole throb.

“toji! you’re so shameless!”

“me?” his tongue kissed his teeth. his thumb suddenly began circling your clit, your juices immediately coating it. “you’re absolutely drenched,” he’s had his fair share of ‘long nights’ yet not once has he encountered someone that’s made him so visibly aroused without touching him. “you’re fucking leaking, and I’ve barely even touched you.”

“toji—wai—ahh—uh!” your screams bounced off the small apartment walls as his lips latched onto your clit, sucking desperately. he was buried between your legs, nose deep in your pretty cunt as he sucked and lapped, moaned and whined, he can’t even recall a moment when he’s felt so fucking good. has eating pussy always made him this aroused? no…fuck, he was really hard…it was just you.

“you taste so good,” his eyes were glazed over as your fingers dug into his scalp. thighs tightening around his head as your back arched off the couch, crying out. he was humming in encouragement, egging you for more until the cord finally snapped.

“ ‘m cum—ah! ‘m cumming!” your body convulsed as toji drank everything up. his tongue inside your hole as you gripped his hair whining, riding out his flicking tongue. he didn’t stop after you finished. “toji!” you gasp, pushing his head away.

“that was just my tongue, need to stretch you now,” his lips sucked bruises on your inner thigh, trailing over your hipbone as you let him kiss you over and over.

“are you gonna put your fingers inside me?” you were panting, yet you couldn’t help the twitch between your legs. his lips curled, rubbing his middle and ring finger across your bottom lip.

“i know how much you like sucking them,” he cooes, watching your pulp lips part so obediently. “there’s my good girl,” his praises run straight down as you start to feel lightheaded. tongue lapping and swirling around his digits, it felt so nice having him inside your mouth. you couldn’t help but wonder how it’d feel to suck his dick. the weight in your mouth, his hand petting your head over and over. he was definitely big—

“my virgin baby likes to tease me,” he feels his dick straining in his pants. he replaces his fingers with his lips. his arm wrapping around your waist as your legs crossed behind his back, smiling once he leaned up, letting you sit back in his lap. his fingers ghosting your hole before carefully pushing in. his eyes went bright as he watched your lips part.

“feels good,” you hold his face, wiggling your hips as he pumps his fingers. fuck, she’s so cute!

your nails dig into his shoulder. it was easy moving you around, spreading your legs further to pump another finger inside, cheek flushing deep red as he had you cumming once more. the moans only getting higher and louder as your juices trickled down his hand.

“your pussy’s doing so well for me,” he praises, cupping your pussy, pressing his palm down, before raising it to give it a slap.

“ahh!” your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets as he rubs your pussy some more. his thumb pulls at your bottom lip as you loll your tongue out, letting his tongue glide over.

your lips play with each other, allowing him to nibble and bite at your bottom lip enough to have you shivering and rocking your hips desperately. you’re out of breath as he leaves open mouthed kisses on your burning neck, before sucking another dark bruise.

“can I have it now?” you pant, so blessed out but so desperate for it

“it?” he teases, fingers digging into your ass as he grips your cheeks firmly, pressing you down on his fat bulge, rocking you over him.

“want it,” you bite his ear, holding his hand as you place it on your lower belly. “feels so empty without you,” you’re practically purring. “fill me up, toji.”

fuck!

toji swears under his breath, his pants on the ground and boxers tossed in a random direction as he lets his fat dick slap his tummy. your eyes gloss over at the pretty sight. his angry big cock glistening with his precum as it trickled down the bulging veins on the underside of his girthy length.

“now who’s staring, perv?” your cheeks flush at his words. toji scoops your dripping pussy as he wraps his strong hand around his thick dick as he begins pumping the pulsing ache. “keep yer eyes on me, pretty.”

“toji,” you whine as you shiver at how lewd he looked. face flushed, chest heaving as the tattoos accentuated his well sculpted body. his lips were parted as deep grunts flowed from his pretty lips.

“I’m so hard, fuck, you’re so fucking pretty, babygirl,” his head was tilting up to catch your lips again bringing your hand to his dick. his body shivering as your small soft hands wrapped around him. “good girl,” he cooes in bliss as you follow his movements.

his eyes watch your cute face staring at the way his cock twitches and leaks, hypnotized by the lewd scene. his stomach clenched, getting worked up. “keep looking at me like that and I’ll cum,” he pants, “i like when you stare at me.” you flush at his words.

“it’s big,” you mumble to yourself, lost in a trance you hadn’t noticed your words left your lips until toji drops his head back in laughter.

“need to make you feel all nice and snug, ya?” your thighs clenched around him. “wanna be a big girl and put it inside?” your head nodded immediately.

he helped you sit up, body hovering over his pulsing dick. is it gonna hurt? it’s so big! you want it inside you now! but how? “relax, y/n,” your eyes soften a bit at his call. his cock swiped through your wet folds, teasingly circling your tight entrance, before he held your hip with one hand and the other held your hand between your bodies as you squeezed it tight.

“ah, ‘s big, toji…toji—uh,” your whines were music to his ears, his dick only growing in size as you struggled to take just his tip.

“your pussy is squeezing me baby, relax,” he squeezed your hip in reassurance, only for your nails to dig into his hand as your eyes glossed over, panting heavier.

“it hurts…feels good tho….ah ah i—toji!” your face was pressed into his neck, absolutely stunning the man. did you just?

“I’m barely half way in, pretty” toji’s voice sent aftershocks as you shivered from your unexpected orgasm. “you’ve ever fucked yourself?”

“just played with my clit,” you mutter in embarrassment, averting your gaze.

“fuck me” his heart was beating as his cock pulsed. he was the first to be inside you, his hips jerked up unconsciously.

you whined, wiggling your hips as toji’s body caught on fire as he suddenly lifted you up. your eyes widening as your hands gripped his shoulders, stunned at his crazy strength. “sorry baby, I can’t hold back anymore.”

“huh? to—toji!” your scream pierced the air as he dropped your entire weight down on his dick, snuggling his full length in your warm tight cunt. your eyes rolled back in absolute bliss.

“shit! you’re squeezing me to death,” his body didn’t stop. it seemed like you’d forgotten how he was when he fights. even though the man was just shot and endured minutes of stitching, he had enough stamina to fuck you long and hard.

his cock squelching every time he thrusted. letting your pretty tits bounce in his face as he bit and sucked. the slight red that trickled down to the white cream base that decorated his cock had him going absolutely feral.

“lost your little virginity,” toji groans, you were squeezing him so tight. he’s dreamt of this for so long. squeezing your ass as he fucked up into you, slapping your ass every couple of seconds to hear the way you cry out his name, tears hitting his face.

he’s been dreaming of this. every time he’d stay up late with you, as much as he enjoyed solving your old homework and learning, he couldn’t help his mind from pondering when he’d finish. gazing up briefly to see your cute little face scrunched up in concentration, how much he wanted to bite your cheek, kiss your pouty lips.

“ so good…feel ‘s good, to…ah! uh uh! toji!” your high pitched screams were so beautiful. he didn’t care about the neighbors, or the noise complaints, not a single thing mattered other than wrecking the absolute shit out of the girl he’s been pinning over for months and months. he’s never felt so good inside someone. it was worth the torture of seeing you wearing you’re cute little shorts all the time, your tank tops that couldn’t hold in your tits all the way. the cute way you’d yell and tease him back.

“do you wanna cum for me, princess?”

“I wanna….yes…more please!” you were practically drooling as he let a glob of spit slip past your lips as you immediately came around his length. his cock was as hard as can be, holding your waist as he fell to the carpet floor, blanket falling to the ground as he laid you down, the pillow under your lower back. he pumped his dick between your legs as you panted, only to let out a loud gasp as he snapped his hips back inside.

“good girl, want all your pretty juices,” he praised. “fuck, I can’t live without you! so good, uh pretty girl,” his mind was so empty, the only things keeping him conscious was how much he needed you. his hand pinned both your arms above your head as he pounded into your squelching cunt.

“arch yer back, pretty,” you obey immediately, listening to the fighter as he groaned, feeling himself slide deeper. “atta girl.” your vision blurred the more pleasure toji pulled from you. “pretty girl, ugh, eyes on me,” he lets go of your hands, grabbing your face. “on me.”

your mind was so blissed out, his arms gripping under your knees, as he angled your hips higher, kneeling closer to your body as your ass slapped against his thick thighs, fat cock pounding your insides, kissing your cervix over and over. your arms splayed over your head as your back arched up, nails digging into the blanket underneath.

“taking my dick so well, uh, stretching ya out like a good fucking slut,” his chest was flushed, muscles flexing as your fingers went to pull him closer to you.

“I want more,” your words are slurred, eyes blinking with fat tears as you run your hands through his king raven hair, pulling him down closer as you take one of his pretty hands placing it on your lower belly. “want your cummy…toji…want it all inside me,” his cheeks beat red feeling his fat print bulging in your tummy.

“fuck,” his cock tightened, face scrunching as he felt your legs squeeze him. “don’t—don’t say things like that, baby.” his pace didn’t stop, keeping it rough and fast. the obscene noises only made your thoughts more hazy.

“I want it! ah ahh fill me up! want all of it, please!” your cries rang through the room as the man lost all vision. he wanted so desperately to paint your insides with his hot white cum. what would that feel like? to let go inside your untouched walls, to fill you with every drop of his heavy load—

“shit y/n!” toji bit down on your shoulder, groaning into your skin as you cried loudly, bucking your hips up meeting his thrusts as he cursed. “stop it baby,” he was desperately trying to hold onto his sanity, but you were making it too difficult.

your cries reached another pitch that he’s realized happens before you cum. rolling his hips into your pussy walls, your eyes practically crossed, drool sliding down your lips.

“shit! I’m so lucky,” he cursed, stunned by the shock, only to feel t your pussy clench desperately around him as your body shook, squirting clear liquid onto him.

“wanna be full, cum inside me, toji,” your legs locked around him, stopping him from escaping allowing his body to suddenly convulse. letting out a guttural groan feeling his abs constrict.

his head dropped against your own as he felt himself empty into your tight cunty. you rocked your hips with his as you milked out so much cum from his generous cock.

“so much, pretty boy,” you cooed, petting his hair as he groaned, burying his face in your neck as he continued cumming. he had so much for you, and you’d begged for it so sweetly, he couldn’t leave you empty until you were completely full.

“fuckin minx,” he licked the bite marks that decorated your neck. “take everything I’m giving you,” his chest heaved as he pushed himself up, meeting your lips. “you forced my hand, pretty.”

“kiss me more,” your lips caught his as he returned your sloppy kiss. tongues molding as he shivered, feeling you clench from the overstimulation.

he slowly pulled out, eyes half lidded at the sight of his cum oozing from your twitching hole. he almost passed out, but could only drop to your belly kissing it over and over as he pushed his cum back in. your fingers tangled in his hair, easily grabbing his attention as he crawls back up to you. your arms automatically wrapping around his shoulders, hugging him tightly.

“ya liked getting your pussy all filled up?” toji soothes his hands down your spine as you held him close.

“it was…” the sarcasm and rough exterior immediately fizzled. you felt so good right now. “nice,” you licked your lips, brushing them over his as his eyes fluttered. “don’t leave me, okay?” your sweet voice had toji blinking, before his eyes softened.

“I’ll die before I ever leave you,” he nudged his nose with yours, lips pressing firmly as you hugged him close. “you scared?” he felt your body shaking, suddenly growing worried.

your head shakes, “no….”

“y/n? baby, why’re you crying?” he was worried, his heart squeezing as he tried his best to wipe the falling tears.

“I’m not,” you sniffle, desperately trying to keep your composure, which only had your nose running and your eyes glaze even more. you looked so cute, is all he could think, but why’re you crying?

“you’re only allowed to cry about my big dick,” toji sighs, holding you close as he sits back against the couch on the floor. smiling when you break out into a laugh.

his chest rises and falls, closing his eye to rest his head back. your lips quiver, eyes looking over his tired body. fingers trailing over his tattoos, feather light touches as he begins to fall asleep.

“toji?” your soft voice calls him as you rest your head on his shoulder.

“hmm?” toji’s eyes are still closed, but he squeezes your hip to show that’s he’s listening.

“do you want to go to school?” your words are calm and collected, yet your heart is beating incredibly fast. you want him to get his degree, to pursue something he’s good at. though you’re pretty good at science, toji beats you in math. you didn’t know how he got to certain conclusions, yet it was all accurate.

“I want to be with you,” his words sent a fuzzy feeling inside, but you push it aside.

“seriously.”

“I’m being serious,” he blinks, eyes open. “you’re enough for me…” his words trail off. you’re silent for a moment, it seems like he was going to continue— “but I need to support you some way.” he smiles, pulling you closer. “think I can get my degree?”

your cheek flare as your eyes brighten big, toji flushed at your reaction as you nod excessively, making him laugh.

“cmere,” his hands bring you back to his lips. “I want more, all the time,” he sighs, licking your tongue.

“possessive much,” you try to hide your smile.

“very,” he squeezes you close. almost causing you to pass out until he gets comfortable. “now sleep.” he sighs, “I think I lost all my energy cumming half my existence inside your greedy fuckin cunt.”

“d-don’t say that!” you exclaim.

“It’s funny,” he laughs, tired eyes blinking to stay awake. “but your still leaking.”

you push off him, unable to take all this embarrassment, stumbling to your feet. “I’m gonna shower,” you huff, limping to the bath— “what! what’re you—“ you felt your body loose gravity, suddenly dangling in the air.

“you can’t even walk straight,” toji grunts, holding his side as he had you up in one arm.

“you’re bleeding through the bandages!” you gasp, seeing the blood trickle from the stitches you’d just sown. you struggle to get free.

“stop moving or I’ll open up the stitches.”

“what kind of—?!” you immediately shut up, brows pinched as toji dropped you in the bathroom, holding the sink as he winced. “I thought it wasn’t bad??”

“it wasn’t,” he turns on your shower. “but I couldn’t hold myself back when we were fucking.” he steps in, letting out a deep sigh as the water cascades over his body. the blood, sweat, and other fluids running down his sculpted legs and into the drain.

“we shouldn’t have done anything then—“

“I was too hard, something was gonna happen,” he extended his wet hand out. waiting for you. “cmon, don’t make that face.” your face is scrunched up in guilt and frustration.

“I don’t like seeing you hurt—“

“you said that already,” he grabs your wrist, pulling you inside. you hiss at the sudden water splashing on you.

“you only listen when you feel like it,” you tilt your head up, eyes rolled in annoyance only for toji to grab your cute cheeks and squeeze your face so your lips were jutting out in a cute pout.

“I always listen, so don’t be so worried,” he kisses your cheeks, reaching over for the shampoo. “now let’s clean you up.”

it didn’t fully dawn on you until you were laying under your soft comforter, warm body snugged close against you, face buried in your hair as his large arms held your back close to his chest. his hot breath even. but he was here. turning over, you gazed at his face, snuggling closer to him.

“toji” you whisper softly. It was a high possibility that he was fully knocked out now, but your fingers couldn’t stop caressing his cheek. his black lashes resting on his cheeks as his lips part with each soft breath. “I’ll do my best for you,” your own eyes starting to grow heavy. “so trust me, please.” your lips part to exhale.

“okay,” his lips gently press to your forehead. “I already chose you.”

singlemom!reader x neighbor!sukuna. you miss having a baby and Sukuna is dying from a combination of your sexual tension, his lowkey(highkey) baby fever and the drudgery of attending a child's birthday party

cw: Sukuna's breeding kink, red flags are present and accounted for, no one gets laid tho so sad face. this actually ended up being way more sincere and heartfelt than I intended but honestly very typical of me

"Oh we're not together, Sukuna's just been letting me and Bug crash while we look for an apartment."

"Oh he's not my boyfriend, we're just friends!"

"He's actually not Bug's dad. No, no. But, they get along really well. She enjoys having someone else to hang out with aside from me, I think."

Your laughter after the last one plays on repeat as he goes to grab the two of you some refreshments. Sukuna feels like he's living the world's worst version of groundhog day, except instead of being some sad loser who relives the same day over and over, he's apparently a sad loser who is going to live the same conversation over and over again.

"Fuck this shit."

"Um, excuse me but could you watch your language. This is a kid's birthday party." Sukuna wants to ask the bitch who is correcting a grown man's language if he would mind watching his own fucking business but you seem to care about what these losers think and he won't make life difficult for you.

If he happens to step on the guy's foot as he leaves with two cups and a juice box caught in his elbow, well, his steel toed boots need the exercise.

Sukuna knew that if any of his acquaintances, he didn't have friends after all, could see him now, they would die laughing. Die ,because he would kill them for laughing, but fuck he couldn't even really blame them, even in his hypothetical.

Once upon a time, Sukuna was a feared criminal. People pissed themselves when he cornered them in a dark alley. Other bad guys would look at him and say, "wow that guy's a real piece of shit" and now look at him. Stuck at some three year old's birthday party. One more kidzpop butchering of an already shitty song away from committing another felony.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he knew he was at least getting some pussy out of it, but he had just spent the past two hours hearing you deny him to anyone who asked and it was really starting to get to him.

He knew he was being a little bitch about it, and he wasn't upset just because you weren't fucking him. He was upset that all the things you were telling people, they were technically true. He was just letting you and your daughter crash. He was just your friend, not your boyfriend. Even the comments about him not being Bug's dad, but him being positioned as some kind of really invested babysitter, those might have stung more than the ones about your relationship but you thought that was true too.

Thinking about the kid made him look for her, not that Sukuna ever wasn't aware of where you and your daughter were. It had become instinct before he was even aware of it.

Bug was laughing with some kids he recognized from daycare and others from their regular trips to the park. Her happiness was contagious and Sukuna found his lips twitching up at the ends despite his shitty mood.

Your daughter's eyes found him from across the playground. "kuna!" she called, waving her little hand at him. He waved back with his available hand and made his way towards her. She met him halfway, her little legs unsteady on the wood chips but she didn't seem to notice. She was always like that when she saw him, she ran fearlessly. Maybe she just trusted he'd catch her.

Was it so wrong of him that he didn't like the reminders she wasn't his. That it stung, not just because of his feelings but because it just couldn't be true. He might not have fathered her, but fuck anyone who said this little girl wasn't his.

"I got you a juice, you've been running around so much you gotta be thirsty."

"Not thirsty," Bug argued leaning into him. He held up his hands that were holding the grown up drinks for the two of you, and moved the package still lodged in the crease of his elbow towards the petulant toddler. "Take it, or I'll drink it."

Bug stuck her tongue out at him and grabbed it. She struggled to get the wrapping off the straw and Sukuna didn't even notice what he was doing until she had the straw stretched out towards him and he was pulling the wrapper off with his teeth. He spit it out on the ground as your daughter gave him a polite thank-you and then walked away, sipping her juice as she went to catch up with her friends.

What had become of him?

"Need a hand?" You smile at him and Sukuna hands over your cup before taking a sip of his own. There was unfortunately no alcohol in it but drinking it occupied his mouth before he acted like a pussy and asked you, "what are we?" or "should we get married?" or something equally as pathetic.

"God, I want a baby."

Sukuna almost spit out his drink but he manages to tone it down to just a little cough before turning to look at you. You don't even seem a little embarrassed which is just infuriating. Sukuna's about to make a suggestion on how he can help with that when you sigh and point to where some loser is holding their ugly baby.

"Aren't babies just the cutest, I miss when Bug was that age."

Oh, so this was just you looking at other people's red-faced brats and feeling nostalgic and was not in fact a call to action. Sukuna rolled his eyes and leaned back on the hand closest to you so he didn't touch you as he was so tempted to do these days.

"That baby, like all babies, is hideous. All they do is cry, shit themselves and vomit and I'm not even sure Bug is the exception to that and she's the best kid there is."

You look touched at his affection for your daughter but also fired up on behalf of babies everywhere.

"You can't just say a baby is hideous, Sukuna. Those are the Zenin's. Bug is friends with some of them."

"Well are the older ones cuter, because that baby looks like someone fucked one of those hairless cats."

"Sukuna!" you hiss but he sees you smile, despite yourself. "Okay, maybe that baby isn't like the cutest baby-"

"Hideous."

You continue after smacking his arm. "But Bug was cute, okay. And I'm not just saying that because I'm her mom." You take out your phone and quickly swipe until you get to what you're looking for. "See, cute baby."

Sukuna grabs your phone and looks. It's not the first picture he's seen of a young Bug and he's taken his share of photos of her himself, but he finds himself taken in by it anyway.

It has to be a picture from when Bug was really young, she still had the scrunched up, red face that he associates with newborns. But he thinks you're right, she's still cute. He doesn't know if it's because he knows that baby will grow up to be your daughter, but he finds his thumb caressing her little baby cheeks, the wisps of hair he can see peaking out from where she's wrapped in a baby blanket. It's then he sees she's not alone in the picture and there's a different version of you holding her.

The thing that stands out to him is how tired you look. He thinks this couldn't have been too long after you gave birth but still, he wondered if you'd gotten any rest those first few months. You still didn't like talking about your ex, or the circumstances that had led you to his apartment, but Sukuna knew that chances are you were taking care of Bug single handedly and that couldn't have been easy, cutest kid or not.

"She was beautiful, she still is." He reluctantly hands the phone back to you and you look at the picture again, tears building up in your eyes.

"She is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I-I wish that the circumstances were different in how I got her. Sometimes, I wonder how I'll explain everything to her when she's older. She just deserves so much better than him, you know?"

"You both do." Sukuna reaches over and brushes away one of the tears that had managed to fall down your cheek. He leaves his hand there a moment, holding your cheek in his palm, just appreciating the warmth.

"Do you want any?"

"What?" Sukuna isn't sure what you're talking about anymore. He can only see your lips right in front of him, the way that your eyelashes brush against your cheek as you blink faster and faster.

"Babies, do you want any?"

Something short circuits in Sukuna's brain and he wants to say, fuck yes.

He wants to tell you that he thinks about it every day. Every time you put Bug on your hip or send him youtube videos of hairstyles you want to try on her. Whenever it's late at night, and little feet pad out of your room and Bug asks him in the loudest whisper he's ever heard, if he can get her some water because she's so thirsty.

He thinks about it when the sun streams through the curtains of his apartment in the morning and it lights up your hair as you move throughout the kitchen, a force of nature, a creature from somewhere far too good to have ended up here with him.

He thinks about it when the three of you go out and people just assume you're a family, because of course you're a family. When you and Bug play some made up game, or Bug gets tired even though she denies it and he carries her sleeping form against his chest. When he holds her in his lap on the subway and you lean to rest your head on his shoulder and he feels like this, this is what he's always wanted.

He's not all pure and good though, because he thinks about it late at night in his bedroom too. After a day of your smiles, of seeing your thighs stretch out of those sleep shorts you started wearing when the weather warmed up, whenever he remembers the feel and smell of your panties when he's lucky enough to find a pair in the laundry basket, he thinks about how the two of you would make some really cute fucking babies.

He's imagined it a million ways. He's imagined you telling him you've gone off your birth control and you need him now after he takes you out on an anniversary dinner. Or him crowding you up against the kitchen counter and you begging him to put a baby in you.

His favorite fantasy is currently one where you get so carried away when you finally finally fuck that you don't ask him to wear a condom and he spends the whole night making sure you're nice and good and full of him and when you tell him a few weeks later you missed your period, he'll let you freak out. But then he'll tell you that he'll take good care of you, and Bug, and your soon to be little one and he'll finally have you, all of you and once you have your second, he'll knock you up again, as many times as he can because there could never be too many mini-you's running around.

At this point, Sukuna remembers he's talking to you, the real you and he swallows a few times before he speaks.

"I do," he says simply but something must show on his face because you're looking at him in a way you never have before. He hears your breath hitch and he leans in to kiss you, and you smell so good and his thoughts are consumed by the little family he just knows you're going to have when suddenly he's pelted by a variety of sharp, little objects.

Sukuna immediately holds up his arm to shield you from what he now sees is a barrage of wood chips which are being thrown at you by an army of toddlers, including your daughter.

You immediately get up and start talking to the kids about the danger of throwing what are basically large future splinters at people's faces and Sukuna is contemplating the murder of every child that isn't his own when you turn to look at him.

You're not just looking at him, you're seeing him and oh. Maybe he would be getting laid tonight, after all.

The slow burn is almost done folks.

thank you to the amazing reception to this series and the one-shot I posted(which there will be a prequel of soon!). it's literally so insane. Masterlist will be up tomorrow which I hope helps with accessibility!

edit: masterlist is up!

sucker punch (m) — sae itoshi

in the pivotal moments leading up to the most significant fight of his career against his estranged younger brother, sae meets a girl who turns his entire world upside down

warnings:- underground fighter!sae, fem!reader, heiress!reader, reader is coded to be feminine (wears dresses, makeup, heels, etc), language, cursing, mentions of blood, mentions of food, mentions of alcohol, suggestive content, unprotected sex, cowgirl, rough sex, petnames (princess, whore, slut, daddy's girl), choking, power play between sae and reader, degradation, sae is an ass towards reader

✯ chapter 1

Sae didn’t believe in love. 

Growing up in a harsh part of Tokyo where he had to fend for himself and his little brother, Rin, gave him an understanding that the world was a cruel place. Yet even crueller were the promises of a happy ending he read in crumpled up paperbacks the old bookstore down his apartment would throw out after it started to yellow. 

It was always the love stories that rarely got sold. 

Boy meets girl, they fall in love, they fight, they reunite and they live—

“Happily ever after,” Oliver’s voice slammed him out of his reverie. Those heterochromatic eyes prodded him when his silence got too loud. 

“Sae, were you even listening to what I just said?” 

The younger man slid his apathetic teal eyes to his comrade and friend. He gave a noncommittal shrug.

Aiku sighed. His frustration was threatening to boil over. It would be a month till the U20’s biggest match against Blue Lock and their starfighter was a million miles away. 

“I said: We can try the underhanded tactic to bring either Isagi or Rin down and then go for the throat. The money will be ours and we can make enough bank to last us for a year. Neither of us have to fight again. That will be our happily ever after.”

Sae was tired of listening to miracles. He stood up abruptly and nodded. 

“Whatever. I’m heading home now.” 

Aiku didn’t stop him from leaving, and neither did their other comrades.

Shouldering his heavy parka onto his sore shoulders, Sae stalked out of the U20 facility and to his car. The interior stank of takeout, sweat and the tinny rust of blood. He gunned the engine, but it faltered. Cursing under his breath, he tried again. And again. 

But, the stupid engine refused to start.

Contemplating if he should just push the damn car back to his apartment, he almost missed a soft voice clearing her throat.

“Do you need help, sir?” 

Sae was about to retort that he had it under control and she should mind her own business, when he caught sight of you. 

Dressed in a simple, beige A-line piece that showed off your legs and arms, a chain dangling from your neck and a pair of sunglasses perched on your head, you were the picture of quiet elegance. The fancy clothing couldn’t contain the humble appearance of your smile when you motioned to his car. 

“I have a pair of jumpstart cables. You could borrow them.” He still hadn’t responded to you. “If you want,” you added hastily, not wanting to seem pushy. 

Sae blinked. His silence stretched on without an intermission. 

You faltered and let your embarrassment swallow you whole. In hindsight, Sae found it adorable how you flushed and stuttered like you wished your entire existence would melt away just from his unresponsiveness. 

“Sure. That would be great.” After a beat of hesitation, he added a word which seemed foreign coming from his rough and rude tongue. “Thanks.” 

This should be the part of the story where boy meets girl. 

Sae jump started his car with your help, and as a treat for your kindness, he invited you to a late night izakaya selling his favourite kombu ramen. You were a stranger passing by, someone from the upper end side of Tokyo who noticed him struggling and decided to help.

You told him you knew what it was like to struggle and not be aided. Sae wondered what you could’ve possibly meant when he caught sight of the signet ring on your right hand. A mark of an elite.

He straightened, unintentionally freezing over. You didn’t know him; didn’t know that he was one of the men your world employed as free entertainment for nights when they craved a hit of violence. The both of you were as different as day and night.

“So, what do you do for a living?” you had asked him. 

Sae decided to tell you a lie. “I’m a blue collar worker. Delivering stuff.”

“Oh.” You took a look at the finished bowls and beers, the order sheet at the edge of the table. As if understanding what you were planning to do, Sae snatched the bill right in front of your extended hand. He couldn’t resist the small smirk decorating his face when you started to huff and pout.

“My treat,” he murmured, removing his battered wallet from inside his pant’s pocket. “And then we’re even.”

Except, he never did want to draw a tie or cut them off with you. 

Sae studied your car number plate, memorising it and used some of his connections to dig up more information about you. 

He didn’t have to look far. 

Your family were well-known as some of Blue Lock’s biggest sponsors, a direct rival of the U20 faction. Born from a history of blood and violence, your grandfather had been the first pioneer of a fight club that eventually changed the trajectory of his and many other poor men’s lives. As the money poured in, so did the promise of more extortion and exploitation.

Sae reasoned that he should’ve hated you. After all, you were partly the reason why he had to fight for a living.

But, he was intrigued by you. Your gentleness, your humble disposition. 

You were a rare jewel he had to unearth. 

One day, out of the serendipitous blue, life seemed to listen to his wishes and granted him a rare glimpse into your world.

As one of the rising Platinum fighters who everyone could bet on, Sae was invited to a networking gala hosted by none other than Ego Jinpachi himself. A raging egoist of a man who held his fighter’s lives in his palms like a deranged puppeteer, Sae found himself sitting opposite Rin and his bloodthirsty mentor.

Such a sight would not be unsettling.

As two opposite ends of the fighting arena’s spectrum, Sae and Rin drew lots of attention from potential investors.

The story of two brothers, once tightly knitted and now estranged only to eventually meet in the ring as opponents one day, was a huge investment factor. Filthy rich men with more money than God flocked to both Aiku and Ego to have a hand in orchestrating one of the biggest, historical fights in all of Tokyo’s history.

And tonight, Sae had to face each of them, wondering who would be the one to bolster up his gear or bet on whether he would emerge victorious against his brother. On the opposite side of the table, Rin was detached and uninterested. 

Both brothers barely said a word to each other all night; didn’t even glance at the other from across the table.

This apparently caused quite a stir with the investors who were taken by their stone cold treatment of one another. 

It’s a tragedy, isn’t it? To face one’s own blood in a ring and fight to spill it? 

Sae felt his brow twitch, and the room was starting to cave in. He needed to leave for some air or he would lunge across the table and sock these lofty motherfuckers right in their faces. 

The garden was a work of art designed by Ego’s careful hands. After stumbling out of the mansion’s door, he tried to hide himself behind a hedge, staring up at the starless sky as his heart continued pounding in his chest. Sae fully expected to be alone, and not to find a familiar face outside just a few feet from him, nor for you to still recognise him despite the slicked back hair and fancy suit.

“Sae,” you smiled, red lips parted to reveal a row of perfect teeth. You put out your cigarette into a Roman pillar column, leaving a halo of ash and a burnt skid on the otherwise pristine concrete. Sae thought it was rather rebellious of you to do that. “Fancy meeting you here.” 

Tipping your head to the side, you studied him. His flushed cheeks, tight lips. 

“I thought you said you were a blue collar worker?” 

He decided to come clean, spitting out the truth in equal parts aggression and apathy. 

“I’m an underground fighter.”

The auburn-haired man fully expected you to crinkle your expression in disgust. Not nodding in understanding. 

“I figured. Most blue collar workers don’t have bruised knuckles.” 

Unconsciously, he tightened his fists, feeling the callouses and the split skin stretching across his knuckles. “If you knew who I was, then why didn’t you say something?” 

Why didn’t you leave? 

Rich girls like you had no use for men like him. He was a stain under your shoe, a man with a God complex high off a violent occupation with no God in sight. But, you only smiled at his question. 

“You didn’t fawn over me even when you noticed my ring. I like that.” 

Somehow, you had gotten close enough for him to smell the vanilla from your hair. Sae tipped his head back, turning his gaze to the side; the action pressing him deeper against the brambly hedge walls. “Whatever you think will happen tonight will not happen.” 

He pretended like his heart didn’t skip a beat when you reached for his hand, so much rougher compared to your soft ones. You circled your thumb over the bruise on his palm, increasing the pressure till he felt the wound throb. 

“Stop that.” But, he didn’t pull his hand away. 

You grinned. “What do you think will happen tonight, Sae?” 

His handsome, arrogant face broke out into a sneer. “Just because you order men like me around every single damn day doesn’t mean I have to give into your whims, princess.” He wrenched his hand from yours, trying to ignore how much your touch singed his skin. “And don’t ever touch me again.” 

Brushing off your crestfallen expression, he strode back into the mansion, feeling more breathless than when he abandoned the suffocating room full of investors and back-talk about his skills. Rin had left a few minutes after he had, and with his little brother out of the room, he could finally relax. 

Except, you chose this moment to enter the same room. 

Immediately, everyone stood up. 

“L/N-san. Welcome.” 

You weren’t the teasing, sweet girl in the garden anymore. Instead, you wore a look of fabricated disinterest, roaming your eyes over every single man. Lingering your searing gaze on his own wide ones before turning to Ego. 

“My father sent me here as a representative. Now, which star player do you recommend I speak to first?” 

Everyone started to clamour, calling for your attention like dogs scraping at their master’s legs for the last bone. 

Eventually, Aiku was the one who cleared his throat loud enough to get the entire room’s attention. Through the hazy tobacco smoke, he cut a handsome figure in his suit, languidly rising to his feet and gesturing at Sae.

“L/N-san, Itoshi Sae is one of U20's undefeatable players. A 6-streak win and low possibility of injuries. A prodigy. You should speak to him first, miss.” 

Sae felt like you were analysing him through his suit. 

After a beat of tension, you nodded. “Fine. Send him up to my private room.” 

You turned and left. Sae stood up, hesitantly casting his gaze to a triumphant Aiku. 

“Are you sure she is the richest one out of these assholes?” he murmured under his breath. 

Oliver chuckled.

“The richest. With her backing, we’re practically golden. Now, go and woo her. You’ll do great.” 

Straightening his tie, Aiku sent him off with a wink. Unlike the atmosphere at the garden, this time, Sae was aware he had to be on his best behaviour—which was a challenge considering he had already rudely brushed off a potential investor. 

Fuck, he swore internally. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Why had he been so brash with you?

There was no use in crying over lost chances. He had to man up and knock on the door to your office—face you when he had already insulted you right in the face.

Sae braced his hand on the red oak, breathing in deeply. Here goes nothing. He knocked three times. 

“Come in.” 

You were sitting on a sofa, legs crossed and expression neutral. Not once did you give him a look like you were hurt from his rejection in the garden. Instead, you stood up, gaze cold and faraway. 

“So. You’re the prodigy, hmm?” 

Sae kept his eyes lowered, not touching yours. “Yes.” 

You patted the sofa seat next to you, gesturing for him to come over. “Sit. We have a lot to discuss.”

Gingerly, he sat down on the other end of the sofa, putting enough distance between the two of you not to make things any more awkward than it already was. 

The silence dragged on. Sae stared at the fireplace—the flickering embers throwing lengthening shadows around the room. He counted the cadence of your breath; discreetly wiped his sweaty palms on his expensive slacks.

You broke the silence first with an airy giggle. 

“I had no idea I was speaking to such a talented young man.” 

He looked up and caught the barest hint of a smirk on your pretty lips. Swallowing his dry throat, Sae croaked, “And I had no idea you were… influential.” 

You chuckled, placing your hands on your demurely on your lap. “It’s not me. It’s my father. I’m just his representative. You see, he’s currently bed bound from an injury and doesn’t have any sons so it’s up to me to oversee his work.” 

Sae responded to your words with a heartfelt nod, wishing he could turn back the time and slap his old self from pissing off a very powerful investor (and a very beautiful woman). 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” 

Glancing at him up and down, you chuckled. “I guess we’re at an impasse here. And to think I nearly committed indecency by proposing you come back to my place.” 

The memory of your hand in his sparked like a flame in his mind, burning his skin. 

“Yes. To think we could’ve done something like that.” 

Your eyes lowered to his hands. His pretty teal gaze flickered to your exposed throat. 

“It would be horrible.” Your foot brushed his knee. Sae tightened his hands into fists. 

Despite the warning bells going off in his head, he relapsed back into his impulsivity, letting it taint his next move with his debilitating habit of never saying no to danger.  

“Disgusting,” he retorted, smoothly playing your game. 

You gasped, low and quick, when he stretched his hand out to graze your bare shin. He almost smiled at your eagerness. 

Pretty rich Daddy’s girl with not a shred of self-preservation in her…

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you mumbled, uncrossing your legs and inching closer to him. 

“We shouldn’t,” he confirmed, gruff and sure, but his body was betraying him; moving to meet you in the middle of this wide sofa. 

There was something mesmerising about your eyes and face. It entranced him, kept him hooked on the curve of your profile and those alluring lips. 

Your breath brushed his cheek, warm and inviting. “It would cause a scandal.” 

Sae curled his palm over your jaw, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “It would.” You turned your head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the pad of his thumb. Such a simple gesture made a thrill of electricity run up his spine, painfully shocking him to the heat pooling right in his groin.

“People will talk.” 

He was growing tired of this lame cat and mouse game. Moving closer, he bridged the gap, resting his large palm on your lower back to nudge you not-so-gently onto his lap. The weight of you felt familiar—right. This close, your scent of vanilla was stronger, nearly overpowering him. 

Before his lips brushed yours with an intensity that nearly made you dizzy with lust, he mumbled: 

“Let them.”

“Sae,” you mewled, nails stabbing into his fleshy biceps. 

He had you pressed against your own bedroom door, creaming right on his cock like the perfect little whore you were. Your makeup was ruined, red lipstick smudged and eyeliner crinkled in the corners. 

You had let him push your dress to the side, your panties ripped and in tatters on the floor. Sae was quick to fuck you the moment you gave him the green light to, and like the scrappy underground fighter he was, he never missed out on seizing a golden opening. 

Your thighs were trembling around his waist, struggling to hold yourself up right. Sae’s mouth devoured your weak mewls, and you let him paw at your covered breasts, ripping the dress down to expose your stiff, bare peaks. 

“No bra?” He murmured into the heat of your mouth.

You shook your head, a breathless laugh tumbling past your kiss-swollen lips. “I—mhm—don’t like to wear one.” 

“In a room with the other men…” Sae trailed off, a frightening flash of jealousy igniting his veins. The thought of any other man seeing those perfectly suckable nipples even through the silky hint of your dress made him want to break their teeth.

His growl reverberated against your throat, and you were thrown onto the bed, his larger frame crowding you into the sheets.

Sae hitched your thighs up to his shoulders, those teal eyes alight with feral lust.

“Slut.” He slid his cock back into your throbbing depths the second that degrading pet name slipped out of his mouth. “Whore. You could’ve shown them what was mine—what belongs to me.”

He bunched your cocktail dress out of the way, exposing your tits and pussy right into the cold air of your stuffy bedroom.

“Mhmf,” your eyes rolled back into your head. You were panting, bullets of sweat dripping down your face. “I-I belong to you? Says who?” 

The Prodigy nearly broke the headboard into two when he slammed into you, hard enough for the entire bed to shake. Your squeal rebounded across the room, sparking his filthy satisfaction.

“Me,” he growled breathlessly. “I said it. You belong to me.” 

Curling one hand possessively around your throat, the sloppy sounds of your two sexes meeting together sent him on a hazy high. Those teal eyes were glazed over, the broad muscles on his back twisting and flexing with every thrust into your tight, welcoming heat. 

Sae was careful not to choke you too hard, but hard enough for your mouth to fall slack, pathetic whines and drool slipping past your slick lips. 

Your toes were curled tightly in his periphery, one hand in between your legs to frantically rub your clit.

“Fucking whore,” he grunted, trying not to swoon at how pretty your sweat-covered skin looked like in the dim moonlight. “Daddy’s girl taking this dick like a champ.”

“Sae,” you dragged out his name. Ending it with a choke.

Sae felt your walls rippling around his cock, and he wasted no time in diving headfirst in between your cleavage to nip and suck at your plush fat; nursing on your nipples like a man close to starvation.

You seized, back arching and he felt those perfect velvet walls choke on his dick. Squeezing down on him.

“Cumming for me already?” He spoke in between harsh exhales. “Fuck. Fuck. This pussy is fucking perfect. I want you to cum for me—only for me. Do it, Y/N. Milk this cock, Princess. Let me fucking fill you up—fuck.” His choked moan made you see stars; the hand around your throat was now gripping your hair, forcing your feverish lips onto his. 

You practically ripped at his dress shirt, tearing two buttons off to scratch down his chest. Animalistic whines and low grunts filled the heated space between both your mouths. Sae tasted like champagne and regrets, his tongue lapping right at your teeth. 

With one last hard thrust, you broke around his cock, triggering his warmth to fill you up. 

Sae slumped onto you, and you dug your heels into the band of his slacks, pushing it further down his toned thighs to expose the rise of his firm ass to your wandering eye.

Your nails bit into the plush globes, raking down his thighs. You played with his balls, squeezing on them lightly to take every drop. Unable to resist taking all of him however you could. 

Sae smeared hot kisses down your throat, on your jaw and across your heaving mouth; completely smitten by how cockhungry you were. 

The both of you sat in the filth of your mutual mistake, stewing in the greasy silence until you nudged his shoulder. The look in your eyes was glorious; an opponent about to make her next move. Usually, he would push back—never surrender.

But, something locked his muscles in place, keeping him focused on the rise of your shoulders—the dip of your collarbone painted in his hickies. 

He let you push him back onto the bed, watching intently as you ripped the expensive dress right off your frame, gesturing to his still clothed torso.

“Take it off. Let me see you.” 

Like the obedient fighter he was, Sae unbuttoned his white dress shirt, letting it melt off his broad frame and onto the floor. Scars littered his milky pale skin, catching your curiosity. He silently observed as you straddled his thighs, working his cock back to half-mast with your much smaller fingers. All the while your other hand never stopped caressing his broad pecs and chest; tracing his scars. 

Sae didn’t know what possessed him to sit still and watch you. 

It was like seeing a painting coming to life; the remorse which melted into determination right in your fiery eyes. 

He let you sink down his cock, bracing your palms right on his shoulders. You bucked your hips slowly, grinding down on him with a painful passion; almost like you were afraid of making any sudden movement.

Sae found his large palms slotting perfectly on your hips, holding you right in place. 

Pleasure unfurled itself down your body, bending your spine back. It soused across your face, turning your determined stare hazy. You locked eyes with him, and he didn’t dare look away. 

“Feels so good,” you managed to pant. “Your cock feels so good.” 

He undulated his hips upward, instinct pushing him to surge towards the opening of your cervix. “Yeah?” he almost growled. “Can’t keep your fucking hands to yourself—you’re such an eager slut.”

Despite you being on top of him, Sae was still in charge. He clamped a hand around your throat; yanked on your hair until your neck snapped back and your cry bounced across the room. 

“Ride me,” he spat and then licked his lips. “Prove to me that good whores deserve to cum. Make me proud, baby.” 

Sae was entranced; unable to tear his eyes away from your pussy leaving milky rings of cream around his cock. 

“Mhm,” you tearfully whined. “Yes, yes! I wanna make you proud—wanna make you cum again.”

A thick arm swept you to his chest, muffling your cries right into his throat. Sae bit down on the tender juncture between your neck and shoulder, bucking his hips up into you with enough ferocity to nearly throttle you off the bed. 

“Fuck—” he snarled, grabbing at every inch of your skin; spanking your ass, groping it, raking his nails down your back. 

Doing everything he could to get you melting for him. 

“Give it to me, baby.” Not an order; but a desperate plea. “Cum for me—make me cum. Pretty girl. Pretty baby—g-gonna make me lose my mind—” 

“I’m cumming!” Your hitched gasp rang loudly in his ear, like an explosion of joyous surrender. “S-Sae, I-I’m—” 

Your walls rippled around him for the second time tonight, and for the first time ever, Sae found a new rush in his life that wasn’t centred around bruised knuckles and split, bloody teeth. 

He welcomed it—that surge of crazed passion, so different from when he was about to snuff a man’s life out with his bare hands. Felt it twist his bones, break his soul. 

The world exploded in a white ball of heat again, right into the depths of your body, his heart shattering into dust. 

Sae tasted your honeyed whisper of his name on his tongue, felt your tears stain his throat. 

He held onto you as tightly as he could, afraid that if he opened his eyes, he might find himself back in the ring, the glaring lights forcing your smile from his memory.

But, the jeers and cheers never came. The bell never rang. 

It was the sweetest fight he had ever lost. 

This was the part of the story Itoshi Sae never expected. 

Sae never had a home. His old apartment was recalled back by a shitty landlord who didn’t care about two orphans trying to stay afloat with what little money their dead parents had left them. When social services had taken Rin away, they tried to get him, too, but he was faster. 

Swiftly escaping out the window, Sae recalled nothing else but memories of wet underground passageways, nights rummaging through garbage bins and saddling up to the closest homeless community for warmth and company. 

Eventually, he met Aiku and everything else that transpired before he became The Prodigy was history. 

Fighting was all he had ever known. Violence and terror were all familiar flavours on his tongue. 

But tonight, in your sheets, Sae found another sensation creeping up his unsuspecting body that he could not quite name. It was sticky and hot, curling down his spine like a languid rush of lava to pool somewhere deep in his chest when he took in the sight of your pussy wrapped around his cock. 

He fucked you deep and hard, like he was trying to erase that sensation. But, you brought it back to the surface with your fingers in his hair, your lips on his and the sweet moans of his name brushing his hot ears. 

Where it was easy to repress his entire soul away from the world, Sae struggled to keep his emotions in a tightly shut jar under your gentle attention. 

Sae never believed in love; never believed in someone else’s goodness long enough to be confident in his own grace. But, he supposes that tonight’s encounter with you was the closest to love he could ever get. 

You let him stay the night, comfortable with him warming your sheets. Sae spent the entire sunrise staring at your face, memorising the curve of your nose and cheeks. That strange sensation was back again, this time stirring him to brush a piece of hair from your temple. 

But, like every good love story, it would not be the same without personal demons haunting every sentence. 

Sae wasn’t good for you; he knew that. You were a whole station above him, impervious and untouchable. 

Unlike fighting, there was no prize in the arena of love. No fame, no glory. 

Sae wasn’t sure what would be at the end of this chapter, and a part of him, the scared little boy who had been abandoned by forces beyond his control, didn’t want to stay to find out. 

Nothing good would come out of this if he pursued a story that he didn’t know an end to. 

The morning after, he had vanished, and you woke up alone in this too big apartment; smell of cedar and oranges still lining your blankets. 

Like it was a dream or a memory you could not quite shake off, you wandered down the halls, rustling every corner to find a shred of the man you had trusted enough to let into your inner world. But, he hadn’t stayed long enough to give your world any colour. 

The cold walls adorned with art your father had personally picked out for this apartment didn’t reflect your taste or your fondness as you stared at them, hard coals for eyes. The picture in front of you was of a woman, running free in a grassy sea. Above her, a weak sun shone down, illuminating her golden hair. 

Monet must’ve been the inspiration for this work, and though the French painter was known for his art that brought a sense of peace to the viewers, this particular one did not inspire the same notion. Perhaps it was the clinical wall it was attached to, or the furniture surrounding it that did not give off the warmth a serene painting like this was supposed to emote.

Whatever it was, you didn’t dwell on it long; turning on your heel and stomping back to your orange-cedar scented sheets, trying to ignore the pathetic ache in your heart which echoed the indent on the empty side of your bed.

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

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"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+  ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off. 

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all. 

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it. 

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married. 

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags. 

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding. 

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times. 

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying. 

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance. 

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold. 

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income. 

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me? 

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of. 

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.” 

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before. 

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.” 

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you. 

“Yes, my lady?” 

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?” 

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps. 

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you? 

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness. 

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing. 

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home. 

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come. 

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly. 

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning. 

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags. 

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle. 

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and- 

“Do you like them?” 

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie. 

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him. 

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained? 

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.” 

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.” 

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.” 

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling. 

“Of course… Satoru.” 

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet. 

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies. 

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.” 

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever… 

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.” 

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming? 

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.” 

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue. 

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?” 

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks. 

“Not tonight.” 

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch. 

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence. 

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone. 

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened. 

~  

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed? 

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense. 

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person. 

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all. 

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking. 

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver. 

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.” 

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.” 

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

~

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains. 

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in. 

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you. 

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again. 

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse. 

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas. 

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume. 

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.” 

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.” 

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. 

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.” 

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?” 

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.” 

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room. 

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough. 

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue. 

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.” 

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?” 

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?” 

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” 

He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight? 

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you? 

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?” 

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse. 

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone. 

~

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon. 

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare. 

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

~

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge. 

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

~

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he? 

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. 

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right? 

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there. 

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”. 

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye. 

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.” 

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further. 

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages. 

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.” 

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph. 

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe? 

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.” 

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second. 

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.” 

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening. 

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.” 

No, no, no. 

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible. 

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru. 

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows. 

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense. 

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting. 

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine. 

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?” 

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.” 

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you. 

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further. 

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…” 

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you. 

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does. 

“About the estate?” he asks. 

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?” 

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.” 

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.” 

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-” 

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why. 

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him. 

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…” 

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch. 

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine? 

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?” 

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real. 

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point. 

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. 

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in. 

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.” 

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him. 

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?” 

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.” 

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.” 

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight. 

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago. 

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?” 

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?” 

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be. 

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?” 

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe. 

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.” 

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?” 

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone. 

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin. 

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt. 

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.” 

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has. 

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less. 

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning. 

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long. 

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s 

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked. 

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity- 

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. 

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re– 

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature. 

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.” 

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper. 

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” 

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust. 

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb. 

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.” 

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further. 

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?” 

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer. 

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?” 

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch. 

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.” 

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod. 

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth– 

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing? 

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire. 

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.” 

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is. 

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move. 

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop. 

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake. 

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision. 

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer. 

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done. 

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation. 

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.” 

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp. 

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts. 

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin. 

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants. 

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do. 

“Yes,” you whisper. 

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath. 

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments. 

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…” 

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come. 

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull. 

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens. 

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like. 

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants. 

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago. 

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave. 

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @keiva1000

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❝ ONLY A FOOL FOR YOU ❞ — ꒰ zen’in naoya ꒱

summary — after a nasty break up, you decide the best way to get over somebody is by getting under someone else.

OR — zen’in naoya is a rebound (and he's big mad about it) | wc — 6.5k

content/tw — SMUT, fuckboy!naoya, yandere!naoya, fem!reader, shy reader, introvert reader, pet names (sweetheart, 'adjective' girl, etc.), canon divergence: modern au, pwp, nsfw, size kink, degradation kink (it's naoya), praise kink, masochism, dacryphilia, impact play, chivalrous themes (or misogyny!), possessive behavior, haters to lovers (literally), oral fixation, gagging (a lot of gagging idc), anal play, squirting, creampie, a li’l bit of voyeurism, cum eating, threw in a stray daddy kink bc i am who i am — idc man this is just filth w a thin plot + greenhair!naoya supremecy!!!

a/n — honestly, this is really just me being horny on main for my no. 1 piece of shit, problematic fave (aka my actual husband) yw ♡ lmk what you think!!! comments & reblogs would be gr8 feedback ✧ ˚ · .

────✧.*

B—ZZZ, (b—zzz, b—zzz).

You gasp, head thrown back, a sharp pain tugging at your scalp that quickly bleeds into the spine-tingling pleasure you're already neck deep in, intensifying it. Your trembling hand pauses in its reach for your vibrating phone — to decline the call, choosing instead to clutch desperately at the wrinkled sheets below in search of something to ground yourself to as your senses are overwhelmed.

The heavy hand pressing down on your spine, right between stiff shoulder blades, bars you from raising up. That large palm with your hair wound tightly around it is a heady reminder of where you are— 

B—ZZZ, (b—zzz, b—zzz).

What you're doing. 

Who you're with.

B—ZZZ, (b—zzz, b—zzz).

A particularly deep thrust has the thick cock sliding into you roughly pounding at your cervix, and you keen at the feel. It's a pleasurable pain that you're gagging for now, but you know you'll be nauseated by the deep ache the sure-to-be-bruised barrier will house as a lingering reminder of your choices later.

A sigh of relief is punched out of your lungs, breaths stilted and short — you're getting light-headed without a proper moment of respite to just breathe, with the aggressive backshots you're taking when your phone stops buzzing, the caller finally giving up. 

The strong arm banded under your hips, keeping your shaking legs propped up — making sure you're presented just the way he likes: face down, ass up — flexes and suddenly your lower body's being lifted higher, forcing you to angle your back into a deeper arch for him. 

With your breasts and shoulders pinned to the bed, and your bent knees dangling several inches above the mattress, you have no choice but to let the big brute have his way with you. 

He won't leave you hanging, high and dry. No, he's intent on wringing you out, milking you for all you're worth until he's had more than his fill.

He's already made that clear if the spreading wet patch on the sheets wasn't indication enough. The way he'd had your thighs clenching around his head earlier was a pleasant surprise, the cool metal of his ear piercings on your bare skin a dizzying reminder that he wasn't the man calling your phone.

He'd seemed the selfish in bed type, when you'd spotted him staring without shame at the bar — deep green hair slicked back to show off sharp eyes, heavy chain glinting around his thick neck, and a smug look that said he knew he was a gift to humankind. 

The type of guy that got off in that way that left women feeling used and deeply unsatisfied, maybe even dirty. The kind to be chasing his own pleasure with a single-minded focus. 

His personality also left much to be desired when he'd approached you, but he was an annoyingly pretty face that dressed well — something you could work with when he wasn't talking and fucking up the vibes. 

It didn't take a genius to figure out he had to be just as easy on the eyes underneath all the thin layers of expensive, fitted clothes.

As you hurtle towards another mind-numbing orgasm while he's yet to have his first— 

Well...

That blatant fact alone has you idly reconsidering some prior misconceptions in between stuttered breaths and gasping moans.

You've been wrong about a lot of things in life, lately. 

The ringing starts back up, constant and unrelenting — like the large body towering over yours.

B—ZZZ (b—zzz, b—zzz).

"Answer," his low voice growls into your ear, broad, sweaty chest bowed over your back as sinful hips swirl tightly against the plush swell of your ass. A nip to one of your own ear piercings has you yelping, his sharp teeth tugging the jewelry before rough lips are pressing to your jaw in an open-mouthed kiss — wet and sloppy, just like the heat between your legs. "Tell him you're busy—"

B—ZZZ (b—zzz, b—zzz).

You're vaguely aware that you're babbling, eyes scrunched shut and brows furrowed in dumbstruck bliss, as he bullies your poor little cunt with his fat cock, brutal thrusts, and unrelenting pace. 

B—ZZZ (b—zzz, b—zzz).

You hadn't realized what you were saying, didn't know you were saying anything at all — nothing that could be understood, at least (or so your hazy mind thought) — until a harsh smack to your flank has you crying out in surprise, legs kicking in the air and taut arms scrambling to try to escape the searing sting. 

He keeps you pinned firmly in place, lower body lifted just high enough that he is your only true grounding source, with strong hands and even stronger arms on your body. 

You'd told him no. 

Repeatedly. 

He didn't like being told 'no', and especially not by you.

B—ZZZ (b—zzz, b—zzz).

"Tell him or I will," Naoya hisses, sharp teeth biting at your cheek, before leaning back on his knees, resting on his heels as his narrow hips and muscular thighs flex behind you — working himself deeper and deeper inside your slippery warmth, as if he hadn't already burrowed several layers under your skin with the first mind-shattering orgasm he'd given you much earlier in the night.

B—ZZZ (b—zzz, b—zzz).

You blindly reach, heated face pressed into his bedsheets to muffle your bliss-filled sobs — soaking in his masculine scent, drowning in him him him. You tap recklessly at your phone with shaky little clicks of your manicured nails against the screen until you hear a harsh intake of breath as you bring the device up to your ear.

You and the caller speak at the same time:

"—inally. You there, babygirl?"

"H-heh—ello?"

There's a sigh that sounds undeservingly relieved on the other end, and you hear the rustling of fabric in one ear and the depraved sounds of your slick and bare skin meeting Naoya's in the other. You choke back a moan when he slowly grinds his pelvis against your ass again, hips angled just right where his tip catches against that spot—

"—iss you, babe—"

"S—S’toru," you stutter, trying to tamp down the sound of your building ecstasy and push the less-appealing exasperation you feel at this happening when you're so close to another orgasm into your voice. 

You only succeed in sounding winded, the syllables of his name slurring together as Naoya releases you from his domineering hold — pulling all the way out (you ignore his amused huff at the protesting whine you have to muffle into his mattress with warm cheeks and wet lashes) and lunging forward to grab you by the waist and thigh. 

He flips you flat onto your back in an easy and rapid, fluid movement that leaves you staring, dazed and a little light-headed at the sudden change, up at his ceiling.

"You... ’kay?" Satoru asks, genuinely concerned, though his voice is thick and slow in a way that reminds you of syrup. He's been drinking. Of course he has. He wouldn't be calling you at such a late hour, otherwise. 

Not now, at least.

"Mm—hah!" you bite down on your bottom lip, eyes glossy as you stare up at Naoya in a silent plea for mercy. He declines with a dark brow raised at you before continuing his ministrations. "Mmhm."

"—hat's good. I'm... I'm glad."

Naoya's smug as he looks down his nose at you. His narrow eyes command your attention, pink lips tilted up at one corner at how well you obey, as he rubs the leaky head of his thick, ruddy cock against your clit. He's teasing you, dipping just the tip into your weeping cunt with every pass up and down your soaked folds.

The brief shallow stretch and that awful accompanying emptiness is already driving you crazy, but when he massages his sticky pre into your puffy clit — applies it right from the source — immediately after? Again and again?

You might actually have to be institutionalized.

It's taking everything in you to silence your moans and whimpers while your ex is drunkenly rambling on the other end of the call you were forced to answer. He'd be pissed if he knew. You'd never hear the end of it even though he was the one that cheated.

"I... I really miss you, baby. I know you don't want to hear it—"

Naoya gives your poor, overstimulated bundle of nerves a brief respite as he fists himself with a few quick, tight pumps to redistribute your combined fluids on his skin. 

It's a short-lived mercy, and you choke on air when he suddenly slaps his length against your cunt. He's so mean, making sure your clit takes the brunt of the impact — the swollen little nub throbbing as your damp thighs try to snap shut, but his own broad legs are keeping you spread wide open for him.

He can't help the low chuckle that escapes when you go doe-eyed at the hot, pulsating sensation of pleasure-pain coursing through your body along with your rushing blood, a forearm thrown across your flushed face as you muffle your tiny yelp into your skin.

"—am so sorry. I made a mistake. I want you back. I need—"

Your breathing hitches as Naoya furiously rubs his angry red tip against your aching clit. You can feel the slick sliding from your hole, feel where it pools beneath your ass in the growing wet patch on his expensive, wrinkled sheets. You'd be shocked if you hadn't already soaked through to his mattress.

"—wanna try again, babygirl. Please, I can't lose y—"

Naoya's lazy smirk and the slow appraisal of his eyes as they travel from your flustered expression down the length of your body — locking on to where he's coating you in his arousal as much as you are him — sends another rush of searing heat through you. 

You can't help the desperate 'please' you let out when Naoya dips into your cunt again, teasing your little hole with the promise of being split open and stretched wide wide wide on his thick—

"Yeah?" Both men breathe, one laced with surprise and the other arrogance. You don't know how to feel when the sound of their voices combined nearly has you creaming on the tip of Naoya's dick.

"Y-you'd like that?"

"You like that?"

You nod at Naoya, willing him on silently. He doesn't like that. He lets you know, loud and clear, by the way he slaps his cock against your poor little pussy again and again and again — not stopping even when your small hand shoots down between your bodies, clutching at his wrist desperately as a choked sob escapes your lips.

"Shhh—don't cry, baby. I—I'm happy, too—so ha—"

"Heh, ya cryin’?" Naoya sneers, lips curling back as he rubs his tip along your clit and slaps his cock against your cunt — rubs and slaps, rubs and slaps— "That mouth workin’ or do I need to fix it for you, hm?"

Satoru's too busy bawling and thanking you profusely (for what?) on the other line to notice another man's voice on your end.

Your pretty nails dig into the tendons along his wrist, sure to leave battle wounds he'll wear proudly (a sign of another fight won), as you take your eyes off him to glance at your phone. You're trying to mute the call when a large hand grips your chin roughly, forcing your eyes back onto Naoya's unamused face. 

He keeps your gazes locked as you feel his cock-head prod at your entrance — you can feel the corded muscles of his thighs flexing where he has your own soft legs spread on top of them — and you whine at the stretch of him sinking in, but it's not enough when he stops at just the tip. 

You try to roll your hips, using his broad thighs as leverage to grind down onto him, but he's quick to pin your lower body down with his free hand — the grip on your jaw tightening as he tuts his tongue at you. 

His deep voice is pitched low when he speaks, and you know he can feel the way your pussy clenches at the sound of it by the way he pauses — pink tongue darting out to lick at his lips before that lopsided smirk tugs at them. 

"Aht, aht—use your words, sweetheart."

Naoya takes the phone from your hand, that lazy smirk bleeding into a snide grin as he sees the call's still connected, and carelessly tosses it behind him where it lands somewhere near the foot of the bed.

Far enough away to not bother him, but still plenty close for the dumbass on the other line to get the hint.

He tries again. "Words, angel. This little cunt's not gonna fuck itself."

"It coul—AH!"

He chuckles as your spread legs kick out around him the moment he bottoms out in one mean, deep thrust. He cups a hand behind his pierced ear, tilting his head as he mocks you. "’m sorry, what was that?"

"F-fuck," you whimper, chest heaving as your eyes water. You're so full, you can feel him — like he's in your throat, he's so deep. He could choke you like this, you think. It'd be a noble way to go. Death by dick.

A manic sort of look passes over his face as he eyes where you're connected, big hand pinning you by the hip now sliding across your soft skin until he's pressing on the outline of his cock buried deep — very much visible with how he's got your body angled up for him. 

"Takin’ me so well—" he glides out of you, barely has the head kissing your entrance, before snapping his hips forward — sweat-slick skin on skin clapping — with his heavy palm never straying from where it rests on top of your womb. He grunts as he bottoms out, grinds up into you, cock nudging his hand while his fingers try to grip himself through your pliant flesh.

"The last guy never fucked you like this, huh? Didn't reach this deep?"

Sparkling tears stream down your face as you sob out your pleasure, empty little head shaking side to side as you babble — mostly incoherent nothings: s-so good, moremoremore, pl—ease! — but it's the breathless 'n-no, n–nev—never!' that he chokes out of you with a mean push down on your bulging lower abdomen as he's buried deep, tip banging on your cervix, that has him smiling like he's just happy to be here.

"Daddy knows," he soothes, rough hands groping and sliding all over your body until they're grabbing at the juncture of your knees — broad chest pressing tight against the backs of your thighs as he pushes forward, leaning his full weight onto you while shoving your legs up to rest by your ears in one motion. 

Naoya has you neatly folded, your pretty eyes rolling back when you're unable to do anything except take, and oh does he give. 

He moans right in your face with cruel satisfaction at how your sweet little cunt's sucking him in. The lewd squelching as your arousal grows at being manhandled and fucked dumb like it's nothing is such a tell, and you don't even know it. 

Your small hands are covering your face, trying to hide the deep blush spanning cheek to cheek and the obscene expressions his cock's ripping from you. Your muffled voice begs sweetly for him — so polite, too, with 'please' slipping off your tongue so easily; it must be your mantra.

You're soaking wet, flooding his thighs all the way down to his sheets with every deep push in and every slow pull out. It's all for him. Just for him. His lips curl back as he taunts you (because he's still Naoya, after all):

"Poor baby, gonna fuck you right. Don't worry. A real man's gotcha."

────✧.*

"H—hah—arder!"

Naoya pauses, a single brow cocked high, before he swings his hand forward again — warm palm aiming for that exact same spot on your ass he's been slapping relentlessly for the last few minutes now. He licks his lips, smirking at how you squeal in pain yet you keep pushing your hips back into his hand like you can't get enough.

"Harder," you whine again, a little desperate as you shift on your knees — wiggling your ass up up up at him until he has a good view of your empty little hole dripping for him, from him. "Pl—ease, f–fuck."

He obliges, what a lady thinks she wants she should get and all, with another heavy hand against your red cheek — the skin hot to the touch from the blood-rush. He's rewarded with a wanton moan sucked into your lungs.

There's already the beginnings of a bruise, in the shape of his large handprint outlined in red, forming on your tender skin.

You'll be sore for days — reminded of him anytime you sit — maybe even weeks while the bruises take their time (slow like syrup) to heal. 

Naoya swears low, almost breathless, as he watches your spasming hole push your cream out. All that just from some slaps. It makes him giddy. He catches it with the flushed tip of his throbbing cock, doesn't let even a drop go to waste when he smears it all over your puffy pussy like he's painting a pretty picture — one only he can see. 

"What a slut," he breathes, the insult nearly reverent, lining himself back up with your tight entrance, narrow eyes glued to the way your lips stretch to accommodate the wide girth of him. "Getting off on havin’ your ass all bruised up like a little whore. That what you are, huh? Whore." 

You mewl into your forearms, shaking your head side to side in vacant protest at how mean he sounds — mind blank of anything but pleasure-pain, pleasure-pain, pleasure-pain—

CRACK!

You gasp, fingers scrambling to grip the pillow ahead of you — burying your face deep — to muffle your shrill scream as Naoya begins treating your other cheek to the same, brutal smacks that has its twin aching. 

You can't help but to press back into him, riding that wave of mindless bliss with a bite, sliding your cunt further down onto his dick until he's plugging you up — balls deep — your little whines breathless and choked as he continues his assault on your soft body. 

For every stinging impact, your body jolts forward — tight walls dragging up the long length of him, stuttering in morse code around his firm heat. 

If you were more lucid, you would have noticed the way he twitches inside of you every time your walls pulsed — as if it were trying to send a message back.

For every diffusing swipe of his warm palm on your burning skin, you press backwards — the arch of your delicate spine more prominent as you bounce along his dick, drooling little pussy swallowing him up whole. 

The greedy way you fuck yourself back onto him has Naoya biting his bottom lip to keep steady when all he feels is you — your soft skin, your slippery wet warmth, the way you body gives while his takes. It has his head spinning, dizzy with lust and want.

"F—UCK," Naoya groans, deep voice rattling, head thrown back — jaw slack, as he grinds his hips flush against your fever-warm cheeks, cock digging deep to hit that spot that has you squealing out for him punctuated with breathless giggles — so stupid from how good he's fucking you. 

He hits that same spot over and over and over again, your hitching cries spurring him on like music to his ears. "T-take it—j-just like that—HAH, fuck. Fuck. Y’look so good like this."

He grips your bruised ass, using his red handprints as a guide, and spreads you open — sharp eyes glazing as he watches the way his cock grows creamier, whiter at the base, with every harsh thrust into your puffy cunt. 

He licks his lips, eyes flickering up a fraction to your puckered little hole — a feral grin forming at how lonely it looks, empty and wanting. 

It winks up at him — tiny thing just asking for it, he swears.

He shifts a hand along your plush ass, thumbing at where the two of you are connected in a lewd display — moaning at the feel of his firm length splitting your pliant little body open, collecting your combined fluids with back and forth swipes along your stuffed seam until his thumb is positively dripping.

He hums, the growing pitch of your little whines, soft giggles, and breathless moans egging him on, and he keeps your cheeks spread wide as he rubs his coated thumb along your tight little ring. You suck in a sharp breath, puckered hole spasming at the sudden attention, and he gives you no time to protest as he presses the tip of his biggest, thickest finger against your rim until it yields — working more in until he's got it notched deep, down to the knuckle. 

That's all it takes, really, to have you creaming his cock — tight little walls clenching around him until it gets a touch too snug for him to move properly. 

He settles for grinding his hips in a tight seal against yours, swirling his dick around and churning your insides until you're a babbling, drooling mess under him at the overstimulation as he makes you ride out your orgasm with more pleasure. 

You'd said harder, begged for more (even said please), and who was he to deny a woman? He was a gentleman, after all. Raised proper. 

He uses his thumb in your ass and his cock in your cunt to keep your hips propped up, hunching over you to shove two fingers deep into your open mouth — laughing meanly when you gag on your moan as he tries to reach down your throat. 

He noses along your neck and jawline, humming in contentment when your spit-slick lips wrap around his thick fingers — little tongue curling around them as your cheeks hollow out on a suck.

"Good girl," Naoya coos, and then he's the one choking — a low swear stuck in his throat — at how your still-spasming pussy and ass clench tightly around him at the praise. 

He breaks the seal of your lips, grinning at the amount of spit already leaking out and down your chin, to hook your jaw below your tongue. He hisses as he rises back up, tall on his knees as his hips and thighs flex. 

His fingers are occupying every hole his dick can't, and it's still not enough for him.

Naoya drags you up by the mouth, narrow shoulders against his pecs as you keep that delicious arch for him — poor thing still trying to run from the pleasure you were begging for earlier. He shifts the thumb in your puckered hole, swiveling it around until he can get a better grasp on your ass cheek. 

He uses that new grip to pull you further onto his cock, long fingers pushing down your throat to gag you when you scream and try to scramble off of him as his cock-head nudges deep deep deep—

"Gonna gush on my cock, too, pretty thing?" His voice is gruff, breath warm against the cool metal of your ear piercings. You can't answer with the way he fucks the very breath you need out of your lungs with each slow, deep thrust upwards. "Wanna wash all that cream down these heavy balls, huh? You gonna clean me up after I fill you full, little girl?"

You gag yourself on his fingers as you try to nod your head eagerly, tears spilling down your face as he tickles the back of your throat, drool dripping from your chin and down to your bite mark covered tits. 

"Mmph—mm–mmhm!" is the best you can give him.

He'll take it.

And your womb.

He hooks his fingers under your tongue again, letting your gasping, broken cries ring out into his bedroom as he pummels your pussy with reckless abandon. He wiggles his thumb every now and then for good measure; he doesn't want you forgetting that he's everywhere inside of you right now. He feels his balls tighten and he grunts, sharp teeth biting down on the juncture of your neck as he presses in deep one last time—

"O-oh! Oh f-f—uck!" You squeal as your thighs shake violently, spread wide around his own, his hips grinding up into you as he cums inside — cock pressing hard and deep into that one spot that has your vision whiting out as you gush around him, soaking his lap and the sheets directly below.

"Good girl," Naoya praises, voice deep on a groan, head tossed back.

Your own head falls back along his sternum as breathless, satisfied giggles spill from your lips, basking in the buzzing afterglow of such an intense orgasm, before you're back to sucking languidly around his long fingers until he pulls them free. 

You don't have time to whine at the loss when he's nudging your chin up to catch your mouth with his own.

It's a wet and messy kiss, lips moving and tongues lapping until you're gasping for air — tugging his hungry mouth away from yours with a harsh yank of his hair. He hums, licking his lips, eyes hooded low and cheeks flushed as he looks down at you. 

He maintains eye contact as he slowly pulls his thumb free, kissing the furrow of your brows as you wince at the sting and sudden emptiness. He kneads your tender ass, as if in apology, before pressing you forward with a hand between your shoulders. You gasp when he pulls out, still half-hard, at the rush of fluid leaking from your stretched hole.

He tsks, spit-soaked fingers swiping along your drenched folds to scoop his cum — rough pads shoving it all back deep inside of your warmth in a way that has you breathless and feeling hot all over again. He doesn't stop until he's satisfied, patting your glazed, swollen cunt softly once he's done. 

Curious as to what he'll do next, you tip your head over your shoulder just in time to watch him suck his fingers clean, tongue lapping between the webbing to catch what wouldn't fit in his mouth.

You swear weakly, doe eyes glossy, at the sight. He smirks, wiggling the two glistening fingers at you in a little wave.

"Don't be jealous, I have something else for you t’ suck on."

The way his muscular arm draws your eyes — bulging bicep flexing, forearms vascular with such an intense pump — to where his hand grips at the wide base of his cock coated in your cream and his seed has you swallowing down the pool of saliva in your mouth. 

He beckons with those same two fingers crooking at you, eyes heavy with satisfaction.

"Come clean daddy up."

You're quick to listen, shuffling around in a tangle of lethargic limbs and damp sheets to crawl over and rest between his knees. He laughs at your eagerness, smoothing your sweat-damp hair away from your face, collecting it all into a nice tail to grip in one hand.

He hisses, a bit sensitive but enjoying himself nontheless, as you kitten lick at his slit — collecting most of the mess with a curl of your little tongue around his tip. 

Your lips wrap around him — just the tip, of course (you're a mean one, too) — and you suck his head clean, only popping off with a wet sound once it's shiny with your spit.

You hum in delight, small fist pumping along his re-inflated shaft, at the sinful taste of your combined orgasms, an idle part of you thinking how you could easily get used to the salty sweet tang. 

You lick a thick stripe clean from the base of his length up to the tip, following the pulsing vein all the way, and playfully show Naoya your cum-coated tongue before you swallow it down. 

His clenched jaw drops with a deep groan, hand full of hair tugging your head back — narrow eyes flaring as you moan at the sting on your scalp, glassy eyes slipping shut as you savor—

Your eyes snap open in surprise when he spits into your open mouth, warm and wet, with no warning. 

Your lips snap shut, throat constricting on a swallow out of instinct, before he can even command it. 

That seems to please him because he hums, low and almost like a big cat purring, with a stupid, self-satisfied smile on his pink face. The hand holding your hair tightens as his cock bobs, abs flexing, in a dead giveaway to how much he had liked that.

You're about to suck him down when something catches your attention, a small frown tugging at your lips as you glance over towards the foot of the bed. 

Your phone's laying in the tangle of sheets, black screen up. There's a persistent hum, like a bug flying around your head, that sounds loud in the sudden quiet.

Your skin prickles with uneasy awareness though your mind's much too fucked out to focus on what that might mean. 

Were you actually hearing your ex's voice or were you just having auditory hallucinations from the lack of blood-flow to your brain? 

You're not all that sure, and you can't really bring yourself to care too much either when you've got such a pretty cock standing at full mast, waiting to be laved clean with your naughty little mouth right in front of you.

Taking Satoru's call while Naoya was working himself balls deep into you had been risky, but you'd made it to the other side with multiple screaming orgasms, shaking legs and eyes wet with tears of pure bliss — a simple, novel shift in your life that has you grateful for the man before you, even if he was a jackass.

(All Satoru made you do these days was cry sad tears. No orgasms to compensate.)

The least you can do is thank the man that made it all possible to see the light at the end of the tunnel again, and what better way than the one he asked for?

Naoya notices where your attention has shifted to and scowls, handful of hair tugging you back to reality — back to him — with a sharp pull.

"Let daddy see what that mouth can do," he coaxes, guiding your head back to his neglected length with sudden urgency. He has your face nearly pressed against where your combined spend has been slowly dripping down to his balls. 

You smile to yourself at the needy tone lacing his words, how his deep voice strains with want. He's been so good to you, giving you everything you asked for and more. It's about time you reciprocate.

Naoya chokes, hand dropping the length of your hair to roughly grip at your scalp, pushing you down further as you lap up the thickening fluid on his heavy balls. He swears when you suck one into your mouth, tongue massaging it as your lips keep it hostage. 

You alternate, cleaning the other one until you're just playing with them for fun while your small hands work in tandem — one stroking along his length and one fondling the twin that isn't in your mouth.

"Fuck—f–fuck, that's... good. Feels s’go—od."

The way you hum happily around his sac, starry little doe eyes looking up at the pinched expression on his face — his brows furrowed, mouth gone slack, sharp eyes squeezed shut — has a broken keen coming out of him.

His dick's pulsing in your hand with every twisting stroke, and you know Naoya's close to busting again with the way his balls have started to tighten with your attention. 

He might like edging himself, you think, when he yanks you up by the hair to press a filthy kiss against your swollen lips — tongue shoving in to tangle with yours when your mouth parts on a startled gasp. 

Naoya moans into the kiss at the taste of you both on your tongue, and he doesn't pull away until you're both light-headed and panting. A long, shiny string of spit connects you until his tongue lashes out and snaps it, grinning down at you after swallowing what he caught.

"Gonna let me fuck that throat or what?"

He drags you along with him, arm hooking you by the waist, up to the top of the bed where he reclines against the headboard. Naoya's muscular legs are spread lazily for you — so you can slot yourself in close — offering you ample room to work with and make yourself comfortable. 

His cock stands proud, thick and flushed — the fat tip glossy with pre oozing out in anticipation. It bobs, briefly slapping up against his stomach, as you slowly crawl on all fours towards him looking dazed yet determined — all heart eyes as you focus on the way his tip glistens in the dim light.

You kneel before Naoya like you're at an altar, bowing your head low to lap at his gooey slit, the beginning of your prayer to him.

Naoya eyes your phone with a cheshire smile while you choke down his length, his big thumb brushing the pretty little tears from your lash line as he coos down at you — his gentle tone contrasting his crude choice of words:

"Such a hungry little slut, aren't you? ’s a good thing daddy's got so much t’ feed you, huh."

He knows it's only a matter of time before you notice the screaming that's starting to filter through the receiver as the man's volume increases. 

He tangles his long, thick fingers into your hair — holding your head still as he fucks up into your mouth in a move that has you gagging violently, your throat constricting around his cock in a way that has him sucking in air through his teeth.

"Greedy baby," he jeers when he tries to drag you up, but you whine in protest. Your flushed cheeks hollow on a vicious suck that keeps your glossy, swollen lips wrapped tightly around the width of him. "Can't even go a second without this fat cock in one of your holes."

"WHO THE FU—" 

Naoya's chuckle drowns out Satoru's tinny swears, the sheer volume of his yelling blowing out your phone's speakers. The sound of an incoming video call fills the room alongside your gagging and slurping as Naoya fucks himself deep into your throat.

"Answer the fucking call," Satoru snarls.

Your vision is hazy, distorted by the tears in your eyes as you continue to gag and swallow around the thick cock in your mouth, drool dripping out and down your chin. You still try to reach for your phone where it's been tossed aside, clear across the king-sized bed, with the intent to decline and end the prolonged call altogether.

But then Naoya leans over — the long length of his body and arms easily reaching it before you can, and you choke as his other hand meanly shoves your head back down as he thrusts into your mouth while the sound of the video call connecting joins your gagging.

Satoru balks at the smug grin and marked up broad chest that fills the screen, his face crowded so close to his own phone's screen that all that shows are his wide, bloodshot blue eyes and part of his forehead. There's a pulsing vein visible just above his brows.

"Who the fuck are you, and where the fuck is my girl—?!" 

Naoya tosses his head back as he hisses out a mixture between a groan and laugh. Your wide-eyed panic has your throat clenching around his cock, and he can't say he hates it. 

Gojo Satoru's bitching as he face-fucks you only makes it better.

An idea comes to him, completely ignoring the way Gojo's threatening to beat his ass, and it takes only seconds for him to follow through — flipping the camera's view to you.

He watches as the man's face falls, goes slack-jawed, at the sight of your sweet, glossy lips stretched wide around the base of his fat cock — cute little nose pressed against his trimmed pubes — with tears in your eyes as his large hand helps you bob up and down the long length of him. You're drooling and gagging, a pretty little mess, and it's all for him. 

"This your girl?" Naoya taunts, wrapping his fist in your hair before pulling you off of his cock entirely. You whine, mouthing at his shiny, spit-coated tip, looking up at him in a way that's utterly depraved. 

Your eyes are wide, all pretty color and blown out pupils with lashes spiked with tears, but they're glazed over in a way that says nobody's home — too fucked out from his cock, and eager to please in return.

He makes a show of how desperate you are to lap at his sloppy dick and heavy balls again, tugging you further back by the hair. 

Gojo's silent in his rage, camera shaking as he seethes. 

Naoya lets your hair fall loose from his fist, and it's nearly instantaneous — how you swallow him back down to the hilt, gagging yourself and drooling like a baby, but never giving up.

That's all it takes, really. That, and the way your throat clenches as you hum in contentment when Naoya reaches a hand down to pet at the nape of your neck — rough fingers scratching at the base of your skull — has him swearing as he shoots his load down your throat. 

"F—UCK, that's it—drink up, angel."

You try your best, wanting him to praise you more — to call you more pretty names.

But there's more than you anticipated, though, as your lips slide up his length. The viscous substance chokes you as it fills your mouth. You pop off of him with a lewd, wet sound, and he glances at the absolutely revolted look on Gojo's face when you open your mouth to show Naoya all of his cum laying thick and white on your tongue.

He taps a long finger against your chin in silent command, and your glistening eyes crinkle shut as you happily oblige, stray tears glittering down an abstract path along your flushed cheeks. 

You swallow it all down, sticking your naughty little tongue out — clean and pink — as you playfully go 'ahhh' to show him how well you listened.

"Heh," Naoya flips the camera back to show his face. He didn't think it was possible for the man to look even more upset as he was met with an unmistakable Zen’in. "I think you mean our girl."

---

love line

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. 

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.”

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.

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.

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 

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

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

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

“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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