charlee

harvest moon.

"because I'm still in love with you, on this harvest moon."

heianera!sukuna x fem!reader

synopsis. ryomen sukuna, the unrelenting king of curses shares a dance with you under the pale moonlight.

The night had settled over the Heian capital like ink poured gently into water, slow and beautiful, staining the world in shades of quiet silver and deeper shadow, and yet there was nothing oppressive in it, for even the darkness here felt curated, as though the heavens themselves had chosen restraint rather than abandon.

You found him where he always seemed to exist beyond the reach of ceremony or concern, seated upon the edge of a veranda that overlooked gardens left deliberately unlit, as though even lanterns had been forbidden from disturbing whatever dominion he had claimed for himself, and there he sat with the patient immobility of something that did not belong to time so much as endure it.

Ryomen Sukuna did not look at you immediately, though you knew he was aware of your arrival in the way a predator is aware of wind shifting through grass, not by sound alone but by the alteration of presence itself, and when at last his gaze did lift it carried that familiar weight which had never quite decided whether it found you amusing or merely tolerable.

“You're late,” he said at length, voice unhurried, as though time itself waited for his permission to proceed.

“And you are early, my lord,” you replied, stepping fully into the spill of moonlight without hesitation, as though you had long since learned that there was no safer place in his presence than honesty.

A pause lingered between you, not empty but full in the way old things are full, saturated with what has been spoken before and what need not be repeated again, and the wind moved through the open space of the veranda with a softness that made the world feel momentarily less certain of itself.

At last, you lowered yourself beside him, uninvited yet unchallenged, and allowed your gaze to drift outward where the gardens lay beneath the rising arc of the moon, which had begun its ascent with a fullness so complete it seemed less like a celestial body and more like an omen that had chosen gentleness as a disguise.

“Draw nearer,” you murmured after a time, voice softened by memory rather than intent, “and hearken unto the words I have to say, for though the night be vast and patient, I would not have mine words be lost unto it.”

Sukuna exhaled slowly, not in refusal but in a manner that suggested he found the request unnecessary rather than burdensome, and yet he shifted nonetheless, turning slightly so that the space between you diminished just enough to acknowledge that your presence had weight in his world, even if he would never openly grant it significance.

When you were strangers, you had once observed him from distances measured not in physical space but in caution and reverence, when his name alone was spoken in the tones of warnings rather than introductions, and even then something within you had refused to turn away, as though recognition had preceded understanding and curiosity had outpaced fear.

“‘This wasn't always, I used to watch you from a distance. I never thought I would ever stand here beside you like this,” you said quietly, the words slipping into the night as though they belonged there more than in your mouth, “for I recall a time when you were a rumour, and I but a shadow standing afar, I never thought I would ever stand here beside you like this.” you laughed, eyes welling up, refusing to part the garden below, where moonlight pooled between stone paths.

Sukuna’s gaze flicked toward you, taking in your reminiscent pondering. “And yet you are.” he said, tone neither questioning nor praising, but simply observing as one might note an inconsistency in nature.

“I am,” you answered, and there was a faint smile in your voice though it did not fully reach your expression, “for I found myself more afeared of what I should be if I turned away from you, against better sense, perhaps.”

The silence that followed was not emptiness but continuation, Sukuna's steps a few behind yours as he analysed your figure closely.

Above you, the moon continued its rise, and in its ascent there was something almost ceremonial, as though the heavens themselves were enacting a rite that neither of you had consented to yet both were bound to witness, and its light spread across stone and leaf alike until even the harshness of his presence seemed momentarily tempered.

“And when we were lovers,” you continued at length, your voice gentler now, less anchored in recollection and more in something dangerously near the present, “I loved you with a heart that knew no measure, nor restraint, nor wisdom that might have saved it from itself.”

A faint pause.

Sukuna did not interrupt, though his eyes remained upon you longer than they had any right to linger, as though he were weighing not your words but the fact that you had dared to speak them aloud within his hearing.

“But now,” you added, “the night grows deeper, and the moon mounteth higher as though it too would bear witness unto this period of time, beyond season or reason, I find myself desiring only this moment, and no other before or after it.”

Within this enclosed world of stone and moonlight everything had narrowed to the space between two presences who had long since ceased to be strangers in any meaningful sense.

“Come forth a little into the light,” you said then, voice softening into something almost playful, almost tender, though still grounded in that same steady sincerity, “for I would like to see you as you are when the world is not looking upon you with fear alone.”

Sukuna rose.

Not swiftly, not dramatically, but with the inevitability of something that had always possessed the authority to decide its own movement, and when he stepped down from the veranda into the courtyard where the moonlight lay thick upon the stones like a pale tide, he did so without hesitation, as though the request itself had merely aligned with some decision he had already made.

"A full moon," you hummed to yourself, tipping your head back to admire it, “Let us not spend it only speaking of what has already passed.”

“We know where the music plays,” you said as you followed him into the open space, the words carrying a faint echo of something almost ceremonial in their cadence, “though none else may hear it, and I would have you walk with me therein.”

His glance cut toward you. “Music,” he repeated, as though testing the word for meaning rather than sound.

“Yes,” you replied, “not that which is borne upon instruments alone, but the music that lingers in our shared breath and motion, in the manner by which even the night does seem to incline itself towards rhythm when one ceases to resist it.”

You reached out and gripped Sukuna's wrist, leading it to your clothed bust.

"Do you feel what you do to me?" You looked up at him with crimson dusted on your cheeks, that not even the shadow of night could conceal.

For a moment he said nothing, and then, with a faintness that bordered on reluctant acknowledgement, he stepped further into the courtyard where the moonlight gathered most fully, as though drawn there despite himself.

“Because I am still in love with you,” he rasped then, no longer as confession but as something long settled within you, like a truth that had ceased to require permission to exist.

You halted, and in that stillness there was something that might, under other circumstances, have been mistaken for hesitation, though in him it manifested more like the brief suspension of something vast deciding whether or not to acknowledge its own reflection.

“I would love to see you dance again,” Sukuna continued more softly, his voice lowering as though speaking not as the sovereign of curses, “Let us share a rememberance of motion, not as a ruler, nor dominion, nor ruin, but something nearer unto life itself.”

At last, he looked up toward the moon, now fully risen, hanging with a completeness that made the world beneath it feel temporarily resolved, as though nothing beyond this moment required completion.

“And you persistest still,” he said quietly, not as reproach but as observation shaped by time itself.

“I persist,” you answered, “for I have no wish to become betrothed to anyone else.”

He approached you with a bowed head, his sokutai of scarlet dragging along the path. "My lord?"

He extended his hand, "My lady, may I have the pleasure of this dance?"

Your heart thumped against your ribcage, like it was aching to just escape it's encagement and return to his grasp. Because, your heart has always belonged to him.

"Yes." Your voice came out softer than you had planned it to, it took everything in you to contain your threatening tears.

A foolish smile made its way along your face, as you placed your hand into his much bigger one.

He guided you forward into the courtyard’s open center where the moonlight was at its fullest, as though the night itself had chosen this exact place to observe you both more clearly.

Sukuna moved with an ease that did not ask permission from the world. He adjusted his steps to yours without comment, as if it were the most natural thing in existence to do so.

“You remember how to lead,” you said quietly, more observation than praise.

A faint exhale left him, almost amused. “How could I forget?”

And yet he did not lead entirely.

When you shifted, he followed. When he turned, he accounted for you in the turn. It was not surrender—not from him—but something far rarer: allowance.

The moonlight caught in his hair, in the edges of his expression, softening what the world had always sharpened into something dangerous. Up close like this, there was no distance left for fear to occupy. Only presence.

You moved together again, and the space between steps began to disappear.

You didn't need music in order to dance, just each other's presence was enough.

“This is nice,” you murmured as he guided you into a slow turn, his grip steady at your hand, “to have you, without your entitlements, like old's time's sake.”

“I concur.” he replied.

“Ryo, soon enough, grey will lace my hair, my skin will prune.”

For a moment, he did not answer.

Then, quieter than before, “I am well aware.”

Another step. Then another.

The courtyard seemed to narrow until it was only the two of you and the pale expanse of sky above, the rest of the capital dissolving into something distant and unimportant. Even Sukuna’s presence—so often overwhelming, so often final—had changed in this space. He was still him, still unmistakably what he was, but softened at the edges, like a blade held without intent to cut.

"Death is inevitable for a mortal of my standing." You blinked, a stagger in Sukuna's step, a tear down your cheek.

His hand shifted slightly against yours, adjusting without thinking, drawing you closer through the motion rather than through force.

The contact was firm, but no longer rigid. It held you rather than claimed you.

Sukuna nods, cupping the back of your head in a gesture of comfort. "It is the great, humbling equalizer that binds all who draw breath,"

"Yet, the inevitability of the end is precisely what gives the present moment its weight and beauty." You finished his sentence for him, gazing up at him with full cheeks and a toothy smile.

Sukuna gazed down on you, staring hard enough to mentally imprint this image of you into his mind, enough to last centuries.

“You’re gentler tonight,” you said, almost before you could stop yourself.

“I suppose,” he said at last, voice low, “there is little point in being otherwise here.”

The words should have carried his usual finality, but they didn’t. Something in them lingered instead, like an admission spoken too honestly to be reclaimed.

You looked up at him as he guided you through another slow turn, "The full moon is quite the sight for sore eyes, isn't it?" and for the first time it struck you not as an observation of fear or awe, but something far simpler.

He was watching you.

Not the world.

Not the moon.

You.

"Yes." He breathed out.

And when you stepped again, he matched you without hesitation.

The dance became steadier then, no longer uncertain at its edges. Your movements found each other more easily, as if the rhythm had always existed and you were only now choosing to hear it.

“You still look at me like that,” you said softly after a while.

“Like what?” he asked, though he already knew.

“As if I might disappear the moment you pull your gaze from me.”

Sukuna did not answer immediately.

But his grip tightened—not harshly, not possessively, just enough to acknowledge the truth of it without naming it.

“Do not flatter yourself,” he said at last, “Do not presume I am so easily deceived." He warned, with no cruelty to sharpen his words.

A faint smile touched your lips. “That almost sounded like concern.”

That earned the smallest pause in his step, quickly recovered, and the faintest shift in his expression that might have been anything if not for the quietness in it.

Then he exhaled, slow and low, as though conceding something he would never name aloud.

“Say what you will,” he murmured, “but I have no intention of forgetting you.”

The words settled between you like something irrevocable.

Your steps faltered.

The dance continued ever so gently.

"Promise me," Your voice broke.

"You'll find me again."

Through your teary eyes, you managed to pick up the tears in his.

"I promise, my lady, I will find you in every universe, in every reincarnation you come to be."

He nods to himself, dutifully promising.

"I will traverse the bounds of this land without a halt in my step, just to find you."

And above you, the harvest moon held steady, as though it had all the time in the world to watch you learn what it meant to remain.

"Thank you.." You whisper, closing your eyes to savour the moment."

"I can rest easy now."

Sukuna subtly smiled down at you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

hey so this is buns and not proof read, i sincerely apologise.............

characters included: satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, toji fushiguro, ryomen sukuna, choso kamo

mentions of swearing, spoilers (nanami's part), suggestive (toji's part) fem reader in gojo's and sukuna's

texts with... BOYFRIEND!JJK BOYS

you have an argument with your significant other, how might things unfold?

SATORU GOJO ‎ ꩜‎‎ 𓂃 ࣪˖ ‎

SUGURU GETO °₊ˎˊ˗

KENTO NANAMI゛ ‎ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀

TOJI FUSHIGURO⠀ ┈─★

RYOMEN SUKUNA ♡𓈒

CHOSO KAMO ₊˚ ⋅ ۶ৎ ‎

hii! so umm, i haven't been active in quite a bit, and i apologise :(

I've been really unmotivated to do anything, and everything in my life takes a lot of effort, but I'm hoping I can find the joy I used to in writing/making these for you guys!

honestly, your support and comments have encouraged me to keep posting!!

tags. religious guilt (reader), internalised homophobia, first person readers pov, oral sex (reader receiving), p with out plot honestly

I walked slowly to the front door, kitchen knife hanging in my hands as I hesitantly turned the knob.

Who would show up to my front porch so late at night?

I opened the door slowly to catch eyes with…

her.

The woman that always had to be on my damn mind.

“Shoko,” I narrowed my eyes at her, crossing my arms.

“What in the world are you doing here so late?” She sheepishly rubs her neck with a smile,

“Wanted to stop by, nice gown by the way.” I looked down at my night dress, I forgot I had that on…

Yet suddenly, the thought of her seeing me like this, commenting on it… it made me feel something.

I flusteredly turned to the side to let her in as I shut the door behind her.

“I’ll start the kettle for you.” I called out, speed walking to the kitchen as I filled it up with water.

She shook her head when I turned to her.

“I don’t want anything, [name].”

“I just want you.”

My heart skipped a beat, rapidly thumping against my chest.

“What do you mean?” I asked innocently, ignoring the sweat that was dampening my forehead.

I felt my body sink into the fluffed up pillows of my couch as she shoved me gently.

“Just let me please you.” Shoko tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear as she lowered her head.

I didn’t know what to say.

She fiddled with the straps of my night dress as she slid them down my shoulders, revealing my breasts.

Her dull eyes gently widened at the sight as she fondled them gently.

“Just say yes.” She whispered against my hardened nipple, my areola swelling up.

She hooked her fingers below the fabric on my crotch, pushing my panties aside, I felt the cool air’s embrace— hitting me like reality.

Goodness me, this is so wrong. I feel every ounce of guilt, but I’m unsure if I regret.

I close my eyes as I feel her suck on my bundle of nerves, saliva coating my clit.

My hands involuntarily bundled up the sheets below me as I felt her tongue penetrate through my pulsing hole, the wet warm sensation making me tilt my head back.

She thrusted her tongue in and out, smirking up at me at my half lidded eyes and cloudy eyes.

Her tongue cruelly parted from my hole and toyed with my clit, circling it slowly.

I couldn’t focus on anything, I just let out blabbers to which she laughed at.

She quickened her pace and I felt myself reaching my breaking point, it felt like fireworks beneath my skin.

Like warm wet silk moving all along my petals.

In between moans, I felt my back arch with feline grace— a posture half-prayer, half-defiance. Tears traced paths down my face, each one a confession I dared to not speak aloud. I shrieked as I came undone, a steadfast knot releasing within me, my breaking did not come to her as pleasure but as a visitation—unholy, insistent—pressing against the walls of her devotion. Her thick tongue muscle lapping up my goodness.

There… my deity stood in my mind’s eye, robed in faultless white, the purity almost cruel. Disgust shadowed His expression, a judgment too heavy to escape. I had worn piety like a veil, sheer enough to breathe through, yet heavy with expectation. Now it clung to me, damp with shame. The thought of damnation tolled in my mind like a cathedral bell. How easily the faithful fall. God’s gaze burned inwardly, and I could not tell whether it was grief that scorched me… or abandonment.

Afterward came the silence, agonising. Solemn eyes, the fervor had died. It haunted me— to mask as such a devout yet give into such sin? To kneel so convincingly in daylight, yet surrender so fully in the dark?

Such a blithering fool I am, I think to myself. For all the hours I’ve knelt in the pews, clasped hands, bowed my head. For all the thoughts I’ve had of this woman, for all the actions I’ve just orchestrated— I shall be damned, I will be dragged downward instead of where the divine realm promised to the pure lays above.

And yet—I glimpse her eyes, luminous and undoing, and my breath falters. I drive the prayers through my mind like nails, trying to cast her out. She is diaphanous, unbearable, a vision no fire could erase. I might be dragged to the rumoured crimson burning pits, albeit, if it meant being with her, take me whole. I wouldn’t feel an ounce of solicitude or remorse at all.

She holds flame to a cigarette, the colour matching her golden brown eyes. Her expression unmoved, like she doesn’t take back the events of coitus that just happened. She takes it to her mouth, dragging it away as smoke drifts through the air, observing eyes raking over your furrowed eyebrows.

“You look like you’re waiting for lightning.” She hums, turning back to her cigarette.

I force my quivering lip to work, “I wish you were a man.” I blurt out, watching as her posture stiffens, her eyes wide for a second as she looks at me.

“Don’t look at me like that.” I whisper, my voice cracking subtly— but she picks up on it.

If this were to get out to townsfolk, we’d both be confined.

“Like what?” She muses, analysing my face whilst she lightly tapped her cigarette, compacting the tobacco in hopes to make it last.

“Like you know me.” I sputter, my words contradicting the events that just took place, like she didn’t just explore every crevice of my cutaneous being. Like I didn’t enjoy it.

She smiles softly, gently placing her warm hand over mine as her cigarette hangs idly from the side of her lip. And she clearly knows I loved it.

“Relax, sweetheart, if there were a God that bored, we’d be dead already.”

Her calming usual tone was softer, yet it still didn’t put me at ease.

She blinks, “Religion is a faux anyway, what God would want to condemn innocent people minding their business and being in love?” She reasoned, and to be fair— she made a point.

But… does she really think this is love?

Does she take this as seriously as I do?

I nodded slowly.

“Still, in this day of age— we mustn’t let anyone know.”

Her brunette hair swayed slightly as she nodded, “That, I agree with.”

characters included: satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, toji fushiguro, ryomen sukuna, choso kamo

SMAU

!!suggestive!!

mentions of fem reader (woman) on sukuna's.

texts with... BOYFRIEND!JJK BOYS

you are bored, so want to prank your beloved. how? by calling him his title of course!

!!below credits for art!!:

_3aem - satoru gojo,

arekushisu_11 - suguru geto,

ayushnz - kento nanami,

thatsallitchief - toji fushiguro,

actuallyvalerie - ryomen sukuna,

rednoki0 (tumblr) - choso kamo

characters included: satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, toji fushiguro, ryomen sukuna, choso kamo

SMAU

implied fem reader on sukuna's

!suggestive!

texts with... BOYFRIEND!JJK BOYS

they send you a photo of them at the gym.

!!below credits for art!!:

_3aem - satoru gojo,

arekushisu_11 - suguru geto,

ayushnz - kento nanami,

thatsallitchief - toji fushiguro,

sashiyu - toji arching,

actuallyvalerie - ryomen sukuna,

holy fucking shit im creaming???????????????????

synopsis. nanami kento became a regular at your bakery, seeming to enjoy your presence, things start to shift when he asks you out.

tags. fluff/angst. spoiler!

usual!nanami who... pretends his routine is about convenience, but times his mornings around when you’re most likely to be on shift, always entering the cafe with two rings of a bell.

usual!nanami who... orders the same thing every day, yet somehow always lets you convince him to try whatever’s new.

usual!nanami who... notices the smallest changes—new bandage on your finger, darker circles under your eyes, flour smudge on your cheek—and stores them deep in his heart.

usual!nanami who... listens more than he speaks, especially when you’re complaining about early mornings and sore feet.

usual!nanami who... tips generously and says it’s “standard,” even though it absolutely is not.

usual!nanami who... waits until there’s no line before lingering to talk, because he refuses to take up space meant for others.

usual!nanami who... brings you coffee from another shop on your break once, just to see if you’ll smile the same way he does when you hand him his.

usual!nanami who... insists on carrying things for you, even when you try to reason that you lift heavy bags of flour everyday.

usual!nanami who... becomes oddly protective when customers are rude, standing just a little closer to the counter like his presence alone might help.

usual!nanami who... falls for you slowly, without realizing what’s happening until it’s already too late.

usual!nanami who... asks you out to dinner in the calmest tone imaginable, as if he hasn’t rehearsed the moment a hundred times.

usual!nanami who... offers his phone number incase anything goes wrong, that he'll be one call away.

usual!nanami who... eventually asks you to be his girlfriend with a bouquet of lilies.

usual!nanami who... does his best to not get you involved in his sorcery work, listening to your frustrations of it being dangerous, silently.

usual!nanami who... doesn’t need grand gestures to love you, because to him, sharing mornings, baked goods, and quiet moments is already everything.

usual!nanami who... finally agrees to retire, worn down from years of working himself too hard—and because he wants to put you at ease, he promises you he'll retire when he gets called in.

usual!nanami who... didn’t want to get married while he was a sorcerer because he didn’t want his spouse to wonder whether or not he’d make it home that night.

usual!nanami who... gets called in urgently for work in the evening, pausing at the door to press a brief kiss to your temple and whispers, “I love you.”

usual!nanami who... dies doing what he always did—protecting others without hesitation—never letting fear stop him, and never once letting you see the full weight of it.

usual!nanami who... thinks of you within his last minutes, how he wanted to visit malaysia, and settle down.

usual!nanami whose... burnt and exploded body is not retrievable for funerals or memorials.

usual!nanami who... never got the chance to kneel before you and propose with the diamond ring that was left on the bloodied floor in shibuya station, along with his exploded body.

personaltrainer!toji who… doesn’t smile in his profile photo. just crossed arms, wife-beater, scars on display. somehow still the most-booked trainer.

personaltrainer!toji ... does your assessment in complete silence. clipboard in hand. you’re sweating and he hasn’t even started yet.

personaltrainer!toji who… fixes your form by grabbing your hips or shoulders without warning. zero apology. just a low “don’t move.”

personaltrainer!toji who... has zero patience for excuses.

“you slept bad? lift anyway.”

(but will secretly adjust your program so you don’t get injured or overworked)

personaltrainer!toji who… hands you a protein bar after sessions without explanation. leaves before you can thank him.

personaltrainer!toji who... acts like it’s “just his job” but will stay late if you’re struggling or doubting yourself.

personaltrainer!toji who... fantasies about tugging your tied up hair in-between his calloused fingers.

personaltrainer!toji who... barely utters a word, just observes and physically corrects your form, somehow, his silence just makes the tension worse.

personaltrainer!toji who... takes in your stretching form, blood rushing to his cock, causing him to tuck it in his waistband.

you can easily make out the bulging line of it.

personaltrainer!toji who... let's his eyes wander down to your curves when you start your set of squats.

personaltrainer!toji who... excuses his perving that he's 'examining' your form.

personaltrainer!toji who... always notices your new gym attire,

one session, you walked in with your bag, completed your program for the day per usual, but he was oddly silent.

personaltrainer!toji whose eyes can't look away, raking over your scooped sports bra and lululemon leggings, thinking about ripping a hole at your crotch for easy access.

personaltrainer!toji who... finally lost all his self-control when he offered you a ride home, taking you then and there in the backseat of his car.

personaltrainer!toji rams into your tight pussy without any protection, murmuring

"i've wanted to do this since i first laid eyes on you."

personaltrainer!toji who... pounds into you with unyielding force, the heat between you turning his glass car windows opaque.

personaltrainer!toji who... shudders as he pulls out, spurting his hot viscous liquid onto your lululemon jacket.

personaltrainer!toji who... watches you shakily get out of his car and walk up to your house.

personaltrainer!toji who... raises his voice loud enough,

"see you tuesday."

pairings. frat!satorugojo x fem!reader

synopsis. in which you, a student studying a nurse's degree, join a sorority house, with the intention of seeking an academic study group, until you get dragged to a fraternity party, deciding to teach a man to behave.

!not proof read!

wc: 3153

tags. fem reader, college au, fraternity houses, sorority houses, utahime flirting with reader, partying, long lead up until smut, violence, slapping (m receiving), reader puts satoru in his place, obedient satoru, ingestion of alcohol, use of drugs, mdma (ecstasy), Intravenous injection, fingering, orgasm denial top!satoru, bottom!reader, intercourse (p in v), no protection, creampie

college wasn't as daunting as everyone made it out to be, well, you just paid attention during lectures and focused on your studies. if anything, it was a sigh of relief from high school if you were going to be frank.

you strove hard, always diving your head in books even in overtime. it was your dream to become a nurse, to help others specifically.

one cold winter morning, you held a book close to your chest with the intention of returning it to the library, until your eyes met the pinboard.

you halted in your steps, pinching the piece of paper off the cork.

'SORORITY HOUSE: ΣΛ SIGMA LUX'

you narrow your eyes, scanning the paper, you remember your friend shoko saying something about her being in a sorority house and how it was 'good fun'.

you pulled out your phone and opened up a search engine typing in,

'what is a sorority house?'

you clicked on a reddit link, because for some reason reddit was the only form of social media you could trust (sometimes).

you read aloud in your head, 'they are essentially societies of college students. the original reason why they were established were for academics and socialisation.'

your eyes brightened at your favourite word of all time, academics.

you distanced yourself a lot when you joined college, you made no effort to socialise nor make friends...

so why not... study and make friends?

it was final, you were going to get into a sorority house no matter what.

two days later, you stand nervously at the sorority house after following the address that was written on the poster.

surely it couldn't be that bad?

as soon as you stepped in, you couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow at the sight that lay before you, neat fluffed-up cushions on a stainless sofa, a grand staircase with intricate railing.

holy shit?

did you sign up for a so called 'sorority house' or a damn mansion?

you weren't complaining.

you beam at your surroundings with an awe-struck expression until a person lays a well manicured hand on your shoulder.

"ah!" you let out a high-pitched yelp as you whipped your head around, only to face a gorgeous woman, her raven tresses tumbled about her face, her remaining hair tied precisely with ribbon.

her beautiful brown eyes bored into you.

a second passes.

"ah!" her face brightens,

"you must be auditioning?" she questions, looking down at your lips before meeting your eyes once again.

"auditioning?" you utter.

she gives you a short nod, "the poster, no?" before cupping your chin with her slim hands.

"in order to get in, we have to make sure you're fit for it, hm?" she calmly coos at you.

you shied away from her touch, why was she like, flirting with you?

are you reading her tone wrong?

"i’m the president of this house, utahime." her smile was slow.

"i'm [name]."

"lovely name." she winked as she took your hand, dragging you along.

utahime set you down on an ottoman, in what seemed like her bedroom.

"so!" she clasped her hands together in delight, sitting down on the edge of her bed,

"you pass majority of things with your exceptional beauty." she leaned in, touching your nose.

...

your eyes widened.

did this girl want to get in your pants or what?

"why do you have to be 'beautiful' in order to join a sorority house?" you trailed on,

"isn't a sorority house just for socialising and studying?"

utahime stifled a laugh, until failing miserably and errupting like a damn volcano.

you blinked, your lips pulling up awkwardly as you watched her.

"oh my," her pupil dilates,

"you're cute."

you furrow your eyebrows in confusion,

"thanks?"

you desperately find anything else to look at, you couldn't tell if you were hopeless at picking up social cues or if the president was on something.

you tilted your head in hopes of an explanation.

she warmly smiled,

"here, at 'sigma lux', we party the damn night and day away."

your eyebrows gather.

"along with some studying, of course."

some?

no, no, i need more than some.

"can i just do the studying part, please?" you pleaded as you gazed up at her.

she smirked, "i could burn this image of you begging into my thoughts and haunt myself with it."

you cocked an eyebrow, "you gonna answer me?"

she cleared her throat before her eyes suddenly darkened like she had a sick twisted idea.

"you can study all you like."

you dumbfoundedly blinked at her.

"huh?"

"but.."

of course there was a twist.

"do me a favour," she leaned in.

"attend one party."

you choked, "absolutely not." your eyes narrowed.

"then, you're application is denied." she crosses her arms stubbornly.

"wait- hang on!" you desperately placed your hand in hers,

"i'll go to one party, please?" you whispered.

her stoic expression faded as she engulfed you in an embrace, a tad bit too tight for your liking.

she released you, "collect your luggage, you're moving into the sigma lux!"

you gasped for air as soon as you parted from her strangling embrace.

it had been two days since you had moved in.

it was... going well?

you met some new faces, and actually socialised for once.

whilst also staying on top of your studies of course.

in order to become a registered nurse, you needed a two-year degree and eventually needed to pass a national licensing exam.

of course you had to study, you've already come too far, too far to go back.

good news was, you hadn't an invitation to a party. (yet)

you could live like this forever, surrounded by luxury (hence the lux in 'sigma lux'), surrounded by new friends.

this was just the beginning, and you couldn't wait to advance.

you turn to the door when a fist comes in contact with it three times, "come in." you amplify your voice, turning back to your reflection in your vanity.

"why hello." you recognise that voice,

"hi hime!" the edges of your lips can't help but strive to meet your cheeks when you catch glimpse of utahime.

she stood behind you, draping her arms loosely over your shoulders, looking at you through your lit-up mirror.

she was overly touchy for some president, that's for sure.

though, you can't say you've seen her physically touch any of the other girls.

"[name], it's your lucky day!" she squealed, causing you to cheese and your eyebrows to bunch as you offered an awkward smile.

"and why is that?"

"we're going to a frat party."

you deadpanned at the forbidden word, party.

you were going so well, living freely for two days until utahime came to breach your peace.

"frat... like fraternity?" you mused, watching her nod in reply.

"when?" you curiously tilted your head to peer at your shoulder, where utahimes chin laid upon.

"in an hour." your gaze betrayed your surprise when she answered.

"hime, what the fuck."

you held your head in your bejeweled hands.

"such late notice- and i don't even have anything to wear!" you anxiously picked at the skin on your lip.

"i'll give you one of my outfits, don't stress, it's alright." she comfortingly rubbed your back as she stood up.

"i'll be back, start doing your makeup whilst i find something nice to go on you." she winked, shutting the door behind her.

what have you gotten yourself into.

after half an hour of gliding brushes along your face, you turned to the raven-head that peeked through the door.

she tossed what looked like undergarments on your bed as she closed the door once again.

leaving you in silence.

you hesitated yet lifted the fabric, pulling it between your hands.

you examined the outfit, your face contorting with pure horror.

first of all, miniscule black shorts that definitely won't serve their purpose as shorts, because judging by how small they were?

your ass cheeks will literally fucking clap in the wind.

just as you thought this couldn't get any worse, you lifted the top to see a black tube top that...

actually wasn't that bad?

well, it was a tube top, but at least it wasn't lingerie?

you hummed to yourself, your knee high black heeled boots would go well with the sexy black outfit theme going on.

your heart hammered in your chest as you and utahime walked into the fraternity house's open gate leading to the backyard.

upbeat music boomed the speakers, it's for sure that the police will get dialed of a noise complaint.

your body trembled with adrenaline as you caught sight of the packed backyard, it genuinely looked like there were tens and thousands of people, in fact, they looked like colourful hundreds-and-thousands sprinkles.

you turned your head back to utahime-

except she was gone.

fucking great.

your eyebrows slanted in fear.

this didn't feel safe.

still, nevertheless, you continued onward, observing your surroundings in hopes of finding utahime.

your stomach churned uneasily, a wave of nausea and a sense of dread hit you like a high-speed train.

you gazed at groups of people fastening belts over their forearms, injecting their popped-up veins with needles that contained god knows what.

you had to get out of here immediately.

you turned, quick on your feet as you sprinted-

into a fucking wall.

you backed away, clutching your aching nose, until you realise.

"uh, that is not a fucking wall." your eyes widened as you peered up at the figure in front of you.

a lean build, thin black wife-beater, crossed arms that flexed muscles with intention, biceps bulging, clenched sharp jaw, dimpled cheeks, cheekbones you could probably grate cheese on, piercing blue eyes, fluffy chalk-white strands... okay, the list is ongoing, but you get the point.

the guy cleared his throat, "good observation, i'm not a wall." he projected his voice over the deafening music as he leaned his head down. you flinched at the sound of his... oddly attractive voice.

"oh, did i say that aloud?" you nervously bit your lip, "i'm sorry for running into you.." bowing your head slightly.

he laughed wholeheartedly, "it's no worries, beautiful." he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "besides, you can make it up by having a drink with me, hm?" he deepened his voice.

your eyes widened, immediately putting up your hands in defense. "oh, no no, I don't drink, sorry." you shook your hands as he cocked an eyebrow.

"aww c'mooon, one will bring no harm." he pleaded, nudging you playfully.

"i don't drink." you stated once again, firmly, due to having to repeat yourself.

you hated repeating yourself more than anything.

it fucking irked you.

he extended his arm, placing out his hand.

"i'm satoru gojo, just call me satoru... or toru, or babe or...daddy..."

you pulled your top lip up in disgust as you stared at him with squinted eyes.

you refused to take his hand, choosing to cross your arms instead,

"[name]." you reply curtly.

"you're revolting." you spat out, venom in your teeth, despite the obivous fact he looked like he was out of this world, above a model.

he ran his hands through his feather-like hair, "you've got quite a tongue, quite the attitude." he put his cap back on the crown of his head, backwards.

he leaned down to your face,

"i like that in a girl."

you raised your hand.

without thinking,

just instinct.

thwack!

your palm, filled with as much force as you could gather, slapped him right across his face, "fucking learn some respect you degenerate!" you scolded him, your heart raced with absolute fury, you probably looked like a mad man with wide eyes and knitted eyebrows.

the fucking nerve of this bitch.

yes, he was hot.

but is that an excuse to be such a sleaze?

the only thing he was arousing was contempt and rage.

if only he could've put his stupid mouth to good use, talked like a proper man, you might've felt some warmth between your thighs.

okay, clarity hit you:

maybe it was irrational to slap him, a guy who's nearly twice your height, but, he was so rude!

his piercing blue eyes widened as his head still remained frozen in shock, still facing the side you slapped him to.

he slowly reached his curled up slender fingers to touch the redness adorned on the hollow of his cheek.

yes, it was pretty red, but disgustingly enough,

the crimson that played upon his once pale cheekbones were even more vibrant.

it didn't go unnoticed by you, was he some sort of masochist or what?

little did you know, it took everything in his power to suppress a moan when your palm collided with his face.

he turned back to you, eyes still wide until he covered it up with a smug grin.

"don't fucking look at me like that." you snapped, "or i'll knock your teeth out till you're left drooling blood!"

you sighed, "did no one teach you manners?" shaking your head disappointedly.

"teach me.. please.." he pleaded, his eyebrows joint as they slumped over his eyes, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

...

your lips turned upward at the sound of his whiny voice,

who knew begging would get you this weak in the knees.

maybe there could be some character development.

"get us a drink." you ordered, watching as he obeyed, disappearing into the crowd.

what a dog. you internally giggled.

in less than a minute later, he returned with two vodka shots in his hands, he extended one to you in which you took from his grasp.

his chest caved slightly as he caught your eyes raking over him, his face and neck flushed.

you tilted your neck back as you downed the shot.

what has gotten into you.

why are you drinking?

you gulped the shot as you locked eyes with him.

"satoru." you got on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear.

in one motion, your hands rested on the scoop of his wife-beater, you clawed at it— ripping it off entirely.

he stared down at you with wide eyes, feeling the crotch of his pants uncomfortably tent at your actions.

you grabbed his shot from his hands and poured it down his broad chest, immediately sliding your tongue down on his pale skin to catch the alcohol.

"[n-name!]" he gasped, feeling quite ticklish as your tongue soaked the crevices of his tight abdominal muscles.

you parted from his skin, looking down at his body, glistening with both the vodka and saliva.

your eyes widened when you heard cheering around you, you broke eye contact from satoru to glance at a whole crowd around you.

oh.

an audience.

you felt an anxious bead of sweat trickle down your temple at the amount of phones out.

you mentally prayed this wouldn't be found on your digital footprint.

but the thought of being watched, might've just thrilled you even more.

satoru reached into his pants pocket and grabbed a pill container, pouring one out into his palm.

ecstasy. you silently noted.

he stuck out this tongue, balancing the drug on his tongue.

fuck, he's just too tempting.

you part your lips wide enough for his tongue to slot through as you slam your lips onto his, hands tangling through his locks.

both of your tongues tussled, like it was the mma, the pill disolving into each others mouths.

as soon as it fully dissolved, you parted from his lips, panting.

the crowd went wild, the music blared, but all of that loud noise was blocked out for the both of you. satoru and your attention was laid solely on each other.

chests heaving, catching breaths.

you strutted into the fraternity house, satoru walking behind you attempting to keep at your pace, hands softly interlocked with yours. you rapidly stormed up the stairs in your knee high boots, with only one intention written all over your mind.

'i need to fuck this man, i need to jump his bones.'

you clearly weren't in your right mind.

"where's your room." you briefly mutter.

as soon as he pointed you practically ran through that door, immediately shutting it behind satoru.

you slammed satoru against the closed door, arms around his neck, hands draped over the back of his head (so he didn't get concussed), and on your tippy toes as you melted your mouth onto his.

he chuckled lightly and picked you up, your legs wrapping around his hips as he held you steady, lips collided in heat, urgent and unrelenting. he walked you over to his bed, settling you down as he hovered on top of you, hot breath against your neck.

he claimed your skin with soft, deliberate pressure, leaving a lingering bruise. he pulled your shorts aside and rubbed your wetness with his two fingers.

"so wet." he cooed, thrumming strands of your hair with his unoccupied hand. he looked down at your flustered face and hummed in delight, both of your lips lock into one, tongues reconnoitre contrasting mouths.

he circles your enterance, before sliding his digits inside causing you to let out a muffled gasp.

he roiled the juices that lay within your petals, whilst he slides down your tube top, his intoxicating cologne filling your nostrils.

he gently takes one of your breasts with his free hand, fondling it between his fingers, tongue circling your other breast's aerola, causing your nipples to harden.

he wouldn't want the other one to miss out on the fun. ):

whilst doing so, he proceeds to curl his fingers within your walls and reach his slender thumb to press on your sensitive clit.

you felt your eyes glaze over, feeling them roll back to your skull as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

"sa..satoru!" you gasped out, feeling your climax near.

your facial expression drops when you feel his fingers leave your aching needy hole. he sucks on his two fingers, moaning in delight at the taste of you.

you groan, clenching around nothing but thin air until you look down to see him unbuckling his belt. he slid down both his boxers and pants, his engorged throbbing length springing out, tilting to the left.

"I don't have a condom.." he shamefully looked away.

you almost choke at the size of it as he pumps himself, precum spilling down the side of his shaft. with every single stroke, his twitches become more frequent and intense, he cups his shaft and presses against your enterance.

"that's okay."

you don't care, you need that cock in you as soon as possible.

"just pull out, i'm on the pill anyway."

he pushes forward with slight force, feeling your gummy warm walls strangle his cock, he can't help but let out a breathy moan.

you smirk at this, "come on, keep moving 'toru." you look up at him seductively with half lidded eyes.

you feel him twitch inside you as he begins to grind in and out.

your heels rest upon his broad shoulders as he holds your thighs apart with his sweaty hands, growing confident, he starts slamming in and out of you, causing you to let out a hoarse cry, red blooming across his cheeks at your sounds.

his breath grew more ragged with every single thrust, growing harder and rougher as he pounds into you relentlessly, hitting your cervix in just the right spot.

you dig your nails sharply into him, leaving crimson crescent moons along his back as he grunts.

he fused into you, body and soul, his heart beating against yours, skin errupting in goosebumps.

"faster!" you took a sharp breath between your teeth as he submited to your voice, he was so compliant you could cum just from him obeying every single order.

"you're- agh, so beautiful." he whimpered out, the world spinning around the both of you in a state of euphoria.

you moaned erotically as he rutted into you, and before you knew it, you were over the edge, arching your back with feline grace reaching your climax. your walls convulsed and spasmed around his cock that was buried inside of you.

"I'm gonna-" he let out a groan as his body folded, viscous hot semen spurting out into your womb as his member tremored violently, his body shuddering on top of you.

he panted heavily, trying to catch his breath as he reluctantly pulled his shaft out of your warm folds.

"fuck... i forgot to pull out." his voice shakes, looking down at you with horror.

your heart stopped but you giggled, "it'll be fine, i'm sure of it." you were too out of your conciousness to care.

you pulled your lips tightly together at the discomfort of a sticky sensation leaking in-between your thighs, your releases combined.

he picked up a rag off of his messy floor and wiped your folds before discarding it on the floor again.

after the events of coitus, he collapses on the mattress, plastered beside you as you both unconsciously lean into eachothers touch.

mini skirt

professor!toji x student! reader

reader is over 18!!

sexual intercourse (p in v), age difference, oral sex (m recieving)

the straps of your tote bag hung on your shoulder as you strutted into your college's building.

your heels tap against the linoleum floor.

"[name]."

a deep voice booms as your heels come to a halt, and you turn around to face the janitor's closet.

you squint your eyes to take a closer look at who's behind the door until your heart drops.

"professor?" you exclaim in disbelief.

"what are you doing in the janitor's closet?"

toji fucking fushiguro, the hottest professor known to man, the one and only guy you've been crushing on since your first course.

he let out a short laugh. “really? judging me ‘cause I happen to be a janitor on the side?”

you roll your eyes,

his eyes narrowed as you did so.

"seriously, what are you doing?"

you crossed your arms in suspicion,

you could've mistaken him as naked by the rate he was covering himself with the door.

"would you mind helping me with something, doll?"

god, maybe he really was naked.

you almost choked at the nickname,

you're his damn student,

not his partner,

not a significant other either.

but it made you feel something, coming from such a hot guy.

indubitably, toji fushiguro was considered the hottest professor in your college, and he was always fucked in 'kiss, marry or fuck.'

so sure, it might've sounded odd coming from him

but the way it rolled off his tongue felt like an eargasm, and he was so hot, so you might as well savour it!

you break out of your trance and reply,

"sure, what is it?" you step closer, wary of his odd behaviour, and he gestures for you to step in.

you hesitated, but nevertheless, obeyed.

before you can react, he reaches his arm behind you and slams the door shut, engulfing you in complete darkness.

your heart is racing,

"sir, what are you-"

you get interrupted as he turns the light on.

"don't fret," he looked down at you, his body, probably capable of enormous leverage, pressed against you in such a confined space.

"I need help taking these to the class." he gestured to a vast amount of cleaning solution.

"oh." you whisper, gently placing your tote on the floor.

his biceps captivate your gaze; they just look too pretty, straining through the fabricated sleeves of his fitted shirt like they were threatening to break free.

toji takes an opportunity to take a peek at you.

collared blouse. he noted.

hair done up.

pleated skirt.

wait, hang on.

his eyes glanced back up at the fabric, widening.

it barely reached your upper thigh.

he quickly averted his eyes, clearing his throat awkwardly.

but in less than a second later, he found his eyes returning to your thighs.

he acts like it's no big deal,

but he seriously can't contain himself.

(grown ahh man btw)

there is a sense of awkwardness in the air as you stare blankly at him, wondering when he's going to hand you some supplies.

that is, before you follow his line of sight.

right at your damn skirt.

your breath hitches at his smirk,

looking so smug with his hands in his pocket.

you have to be imagining this,

there's no way.

you adjust your skirt, tugging down at the hem in an attempt to conceal your thighs.

but unsurprisingly, to no avail, you let your hands rest at your sides instead.

you begin to wonder if you look like a hussy, or a prostitute even.

or perhaps your thighs are too unsightly?

did you forget to shave??

he cocks his head,

"you're lucky you're not in high school,"

his eyes trailed down, taking in your figure.

"otherwise you'd be with the principal."

your cheeks are probably flushing pink, as you avert your eyes.

you feel his rough two fingers gently clasp your chin.

"look at me."

you anxiously look up at him, toying with the hem of your skirt.

the air felt oppressive, like you suddenly forgot how to breathe.

you stood there, helplessly, in anticipation.

"you tryna get a reaction outta me, huh?"

you shivered.

his eyes dart down to your lips as he slowly leans down.

you don't back away,

he knew you wouldn't.

he leaned in, slow but deliberate, as if he’d already decided.

his lips crash onto yours, your eyes widening in shock.

no hesitation, no words, no warning, just him closing the distance with certainty.

his hands slid to your waist. you let your shoulders drop, closing your eyes as you melted into the kiss.

he hooked his fingers in your waistband, slowly edging closer to your wetness.

he rubbed his fingers against the laced fabric of your underwear as you let out a muffled moan.

he takes your response to his advantage as he slides his tongue into your mouth.

your tongues meet each other, swirling into a waltz before you back away, panting for air.

a singular string of saliva still connected you two.

you tugged at his shirt, causing him to laugh.

"that desperate are we?"

despite his teasing, he crossed his arms and pulled off his shirt-- revealing his

his fingers shaking with adrenaline reach for your blouse, unbuttoning it one by one.

one button.

he breathes against your neck, making your body physically flinch.

another, he peppers kisses along your collar bone.

once he reached the last button, he threw your top on the floor, discarding it as if it were nothing but rubbish.

he smirked as he cupped your breasts through your bra,

"who knew you could pick out such a bra as pretty as you?" he teased, before planting kisses along your cleavage.

he pulled away to unbuckle his belt, and in the blink of an eye, he shrugged his pants down and pulled down his boxers just to unveil his hardened member.

you watched in disbelief as it sprang out, you blinked, hardly, like trying to wake yourself up from a dream.

so not only was toji a hot professor, he was packing what looked like fucking forty centimetres?

well, maybe that's an exaggeration-- but it definitely wasn't an understatement.

his cupped hand stroked along the base of his cock.

you bent down on your knees and pecked the tip softly, causing him to shudder.

you looked up at him before running your tongue down his length.

"so gorgeous." he muttered quietly, but you heard.

you took his tip into your mouth, sucking gently before pulling away, making a 'pop' sound.

you hold the base of his cock with your hands whilst you take his girth into your mouth.

his hand rests ildly on your head as your lips meet his base, he suddenly thrusts forward, causing you to gag.

tears well up in your eyes,

they were nothing compared to the wetness in between your thighs.

you parted from his cock, panting, saliva coating both his cock and your chin.

he helped you up,

"do you want this as much as I do?"

he questioned, pausing mid stroke.

you wiped your mouth to make sure you weren't drooling because holy.

"yes."

that came out a bit too eager than expected, causing him to chuckle.

he bent down to reach for something in his pants that lay scattered on the floor.

he ripped the condom packaging with his teeth, causing you to rub your thighs together in hopes of easing your aching core.

"you a hundred percent?" he slid on the rubber, smoothing it out.

"yes, mr fushiguro." you whispered as he looked down at you with half-lidded eyes.

he abruptly shoved you against the wooden shelf, causing cleaning products to roll off.

he pushed your panties aside and began to push his throbbing head inside of you.

you gasped, half pleasure, half pain.

"relax, 't's only the tip." he derided, causing your face to drop.

how much more could you possibly take?

he interrupted your thoughts and thrust in deeper, grunting at the feeling of your tight walls clenching around his shaft.

you let out a pained whimper, which causes him to halt.

"slower?" he tucks a stray strand behind your ear.

"just... wait," you reply, hissing through your teeth.

he pays attention to the way your facial expression contorts at his movement before holding to a still.

your eyes widen at the sound of footsteps approaching the closet.

you'd recognise those boots from anywhere: the janitor.

"sir!" you whisper shouted, turning to him only to see horror adorning his face.

he remains completely still, except for his cock continuously twitching in you.

you hear toji's heart hammering against his chest, the footsteps getting louder, the rattle of the doorknob.

you squeeze your eyes shut, praying this is just another lewd dream of your professor.

you stiffen when you hear a voice.

"apologies for interrupting you, janitor timothee. may I ask you to come take a look at the mess in the courtyard?"

you hear a stern voice sound out, professor nanami, oh thank fuck.

or thank him.

you and toji breathe out a silent sigh at the janitor's retreating footsteps.

your relief was short-lived when toji began to relentlessly thrust into you.

"toji!" you breathlessly moaned out, eyes wide.

it seemed like the sound of your voice was a catalyst for his rutting.

your legs trembled, unable to keep up with the pacing of his hips, skirt flapping violently.

the sound of skin on skin filled the cramped room, occasional grunts from toji and the rattling of the shelf you were pressed up on.

"fuck. i've been dreaming about this, since the first day i saw you." toji rasped, causing you to clam down on his rapidly moving shaft.

your arms tighten around his neck, clawing at his back with each thrust.

"fushiguro.." you whined as he animalistically pounded into your quivering pussy.

the sound of your combined juices squelching amplified with each passing moment.

"so pretty f'me." he looked down at your face, you looked surreal, above all words to him.

he admired your knitted furrowed eyebrows, parted lips, and rosy cheeks.

"fuah!" you moaned out, "I'm gonna..."

before you could finish, toji instinctively reached down and rubbed your clits in rapid, tiny circles.

you closed your eyes, practically seeing stars as he hit your g-spot.

you felt your body shudder in waves, folding in on itself as you moaned.

he twitched inside of you, feeling your walls clench and spasm around him.

"fuck." he grunted, filling the condom with his sticky seed.

he pulled out, tossing the filled rubber in some bucket, making you physically cringe.

sorry to whoever has to find that, poor timothee.

you shakily sighed as he set you down, quickly putting your shirt on.

with clammy hands, you pulled your bag off of the floor.

by the time you turned around, he was fully dressed, almost as if nothing had happened.

but the sweat droplets on his neck were a dead giveaway.

your legs trembled helplessly.

"that was..." you trailed off.

"the best sex i've ever had." toji cut you off with a smirk before speaking up again, "y'know, you should wear that skirt more often."

you flusteredly looked away, averting your eyes to the ground.

your eyes widened at the sight that lay before you.

"so, are we taking the cleaning supplies or what?" you gestured to the towels and disinfectant that lay on the ground.

"oh." toji blinked.

"forgot 'bout those."

toji zenin (fushiguro) x reader (gender neutral, implied fem.)

Fade into you

it’s always the same diner.

in fact, it’s become quite a routine.

not because it’s good, but because it’s familiar. cracked vinyl seats, a jukebox in the corner that eats your quarters, and that one familiar waitress who never writes anything down and still gets it right.

toji sits across from you, jacket draped over the booth, tight, slutty shirt, sleeves rolled up like he never expects to stay long anywhere.

you could call yourself a pervert, but who seriously can look away from toji zenin’s cleavage? you can see it through his shirt. it’s practically equivalent to those pocket watches hypnosis weirdos dangle in front of you — it puts you in a trance.

hell, he probably has a bigger cup than you at this point, with how much he’s bulked up.

you mentally slap yourself.

you’re in your 20s now. start acting like it.

who would’ve thought, after high school, he’d be sitting right in front of you?

you notice things like that about him.

how he never fully settles.

“remember satoru?” you ask, twisting a sugar sachet even though you don’t need it.

he hums, leaning back. “the one who tried to sell cannabis sophomore year?”

you laugh. “and got caught immediately.”

“idiot,” he says, fondly.

it’s strange, how you two talk about the past like it’s a shared home you can visit whenever you want.

like the hallway outside your old lockers still exists.

like the gym still smells like sweat and cheap cologne.

like you’d memorized the time of his basketball practice.

like you’d sit at the far side of the stands, watching.

like your names are still separately carved in pencil on desks somewhere.

you were never close in high school.

not really.

you knew each other. exchanged glances. shared classes. but now, in your twenties, it feels like you’re catching up on something that should’ve happened years ago.

he watches you when you talk.

not in a creepy way.

just… quietly. like he’s memorizing.

you reach for his fries without asking. he doesn’t comment.

“you ever think about how weird it is,” you say, “that we all just scattered?”

he shrugs. “that’s how it goes.”

“you don’t miss it?”

he looks at you then. really looks.

like he’s about to gouge your eyeballs out, for christ’s sake.

“i miss parts of it.”

you don’t ask which parts.

the jukebox changes songs. something slow. something old. of course you recognize it — mazzy star’s fade into you.

it’s the kind of song that makes you think about sitting on run-down car hoods at night and counting stars you can’t see anymore.

your knee bumps into his under the table.

neither of you move it away.

it’s always like this.

not dating. not friends. not strangers.

something else.

you walk out together. the night is warm, sticky, summer pretending it hasn’t ended. he shrugs on his jacket despite the humidity. his car — a nissan — is parked crooked.

he leans against the hood, arms crossed.

“you wanna drive?” he asks.

you already know what he means.

so you nod.

the windows are down. the radio is low. streetlights blur into long streaks of orange. he rests one arm on the steering wheel, the other on the open window.

you watch his hand.

calloused. scarred. steady.

you don’t touch it.

but you want to.

same with the scar on his lip.

you don’t ask about it.

or caress it.

but you want to.

high school you would’ve.

“i remember you used to smoke with shiu behind the music building.”

he laughs softly, the wind threading through his raven strands.

you love his laugh.

you’ve crushed on him for what feels like an eternity.

“do you still smoke?”

your voice comes out quieter than you meant as you turn to him.

he glances at you for a split second before returning his eyes to the road.

“on occasion.”

you smile as he reaches into his jacket pocket, pulls out a pack, and tosses it at you.

you catch it easily.

“nice catch, huh?” he raises an eyebrow.

“i should’ve been on the team,” you laugh, mentioning his basketball days indirectly.

you pull out a cigarette, holding it between your lips as you light it.

you inhale, then take it between your fingers, exhaling slowly.

your gaze follows the smoke as it trails out the open window.

unbeknownst to you, toji is watching you.

you bring the cigarette to his lips.

you swear it feels like it’s just the two of you in the world.

when he drops you off, he doesn’t turn the engine off right away.

neither of you move.

“same time next week?” he asks.

you nod.

he leans in.

not a kiss.

no — not a kiss.

his forehead rests against yours.

you can feel his breath. slow. warm.

your hands stay clenched in your lap.

his thumb brushes your wrist.

just once.

“night,” he murmurs.

“night, toji.”

you don’t talk about what this is.

you never do.

and when you close your front door behind you, you collapse onto your sofa with that same hollow feeling you get every time—

aching,

yearning,