#authorpyun

art by @/yamada_souko on X (twitter)

toji fushiguro x fem!reader

a/n: saw this draft on docs when I was trying to work on that damn geto fic, absolutely loved it. made a few tweaks, and here it is! also, the fic that I keep mentioning won't be getting published any time sooner :') but if I ever do finish it, I will!

c/w: mdni. p in v, age-gap relationship (toji is in his forties, reader in her mid twenties), oral sex (fem receiving), porn with plot, petnames like sugar, doll, and princess if you aren't into those, ooc toji

d/c: english is not my first language, so please expect some grammar and wording mistakes. this isn't proofread in any way as well

w/c: 3.4k

Thick and bulging, the veins running down his arms were thick and bulging—and so was he through that messed-up pair of jeans, all grimy with engine oil and grease. Yet weird enough, you see right past the sweat stains on his shirt and whatever else on him. He's hot enough to consider that even those stains added to his charm; messy hands, hair damp and dripping with sweat, the wrinkles under his eyes, that graying stubble-

You are not here to ogle him. You're here to invite him for a meal as a thanks for fixing your leaking bathroom faucet, not to fuck him with your eyes as he does an oil change on his well-loved SUV.

"Y'just gonna stand there, doll?" smooth, raspy, and tired. That tone of his makes your stomach tingle with butterflies.

"Ah, no, uhm-," fighting the crack in your voice felt like a losing game for a second, but you prevailed—cue the triumph beat of the trumpets behind you. "I was planning to invite you for lunch today—if you're free?"

Toji blinks once.

Twice.

Three times.

"Any reason why? Is this a date invitation?" he chuckles with a taunting yet kind smile. "Didn't expect ya to be the forward type, to be honest."

"No, not a date invitation! Just... a thanks for helping me with my bathroom problem. You really saved the hole in my wallet from getting any bigger." you say, cheeks slowly turning red from the embarrassment your body can't ignore, despite whatever complaint you voice out internally.

He ignores it, though. He's a pretty perceptive guy, and pointing out the shy hue on your face might make things worse on your end.

"... I'm gonna guess you'll say that 'you insist', so I'll just say it first-" he makes eye contact with you as he pauses, sweat-slicked bangs swaying as he nods slowly along his words.

"I'll head on up there in a minute. Just let me clean up for a bit," he makes a gesture toward his hands. "Don't wanna leave a handprint on your pretty furniture."

At the mention of your 'pretty furniture', a bashful smile made itself present on your lips. At least he thinks that your colorful—mostly pink—home is pretty enough for him to take note of and remember after 3 days. It wasn't too long ago, yes, but him remembering makes you proud of your interior choices.

"Sure thing, Mr. Fushiguro." and just before you turn to your heels to leave and prepare for lunch, he corrects you.

"Toji. Just Toji. Mr. Fushiguro makes me feel old." he gave you a half-assed pointed look.

"Sure thing, Mr-... Toji."

"Atta girl." you quickly excuse yourself before you preen like a Golden Retriever minutes before barking for more compliments.

-

You made sure the food was plated to perfection, not that you care about keeping up with appearances, but you were the one who invited someone over in the first place. And just like the little perfectionist you were, you wanted everything to go as planned; freshly swept floors, trash out and replaced with a new bag, the sweet scent of vanilla from your air purifier wafting all throughout—everything's pristine and tidy.

"Okay... now, juice or no juice? Orange juice? Apple?—you know what? Water's fine. Water's great. Maybe both? Yeah, that fixes it." a heavy sigh leaves you as you walk to your fridge, and just before you can grab the pitcher of water and juice-

knock, knock, knock.

Your little rambling ended up not being worth anything since you closed the fridge and made your way to the entrance. The anxious fluttering in your chest from earlier is still there, and it's like it's gotten worse now that he's here. Maybe impulsively inviting him to your place wasn't a good idea? That maybe a simple 'thank you' was enough? But you brush off the negative thoughts. No time for that when you have a guest waiting just right outside your door.

"Hey," Toji greets you, face and body all clean compared to the sweat-soaked mess he was about an hour ago. He sports a similar pair of jeans like the ones he wore an hour ago, and a plain white tee with a pretty corny quote that says 'my pen is huge' with a big, sparkly pen behind the text.

"Sorry 'bout the shirt, all the good ones are in the laundry." you clear your throat once you realize that you've been caught. You internally chide yourself.

"No! Uhm, it's pretty...-, it isn't that bad, anyway. It's funny." you step aside to make room for him, giving him what you hope is a polite smile. "Come in, make yourself at home! I cooked some pasta. Just plain tomato sauce with parsley as garnish to make it fancy."

Toji gave you an appreciative hum at the mention of pasta, his feet making light stomps as he followed you through your home. Your apartment, despite living in the same complex and having the same floor layout as his, looks completely different. Yours looks cozy, like an actual home. His place looks more like a dumpster fire with a bed on the side rather than something liveable. But all of this pink pizzazz matches your personality to a T, that he's sure of.

"Thanks for inviting me. Never really expected anythin' in return other than a quick thanks." a soft grunt left him as he sat down on the chair parallel to yours, and you did the same, wooden legs scraping against the floor before you settle down to a comfortable position.

"Well, it's the least I can do. And not to pry, but I've seen you devour a gas station hotdog way more than I'd like to admit." that little quip of yours makes a grin spread on his face, a bit shy and playful like he isn't all that ashamed of getting caught. "I mean, I do admire your loyalty to it."

"Well... it ain't that bad, princess. It is bad for you, though. I've been lying low on it, so you don't gotta worry about my 'addiction', I guess."

"That's good, that's good." the snort left you pretty easily. This man, albeit having a nonchalant streak at times, his sarcastic, witty quips make up for his unapproachable demeanor. He isn't as scary as you initially thought.

"Oh, if you don't mind, I brought a little treat with me." two cans of beer were removed from the plastic bag in his hand. Huh, so that's what it was. You aren't as surprised as you thought you were going to be. The light reflects onto the condensation around the cans as he gave you your own, making it look like it's straight out of a commercial.

"Do you drink? I forgot to ask—well, I didn't really have the chance to, anyway."

"Sometimes, yeah." the last drink you had was at your last get-together with your friends in a shitty bar, and that was six months ago. Different work days and offs make it hard to schedule another night out. A bummer, you think.

"Alright. Well, let's drink up then—and eat up, too." he pops his beer open.

The one-sided beverage crisis is thankfully resolved by Toji.

-

The conversation between you two started with a slight awkwardness as you talked about your day, then he asked about his. But with the little help of cheap booze, the words came out more easily. Banter would then happen, and a bit of gossip about your fellow neighbors would eventually add to it. You started with Sato and her loud mouth, how her voice would go up in octaves as she screamed at her ex-husband through the phone for the umpteenth time, then Saito with his rude comments and grumpy huffs as he walked around the building with a frown. Just a bunch of colorful people using colorful words.

"Y'know, Saito wasn't that grumpy before the divorce, lost custody of his children." he took a swig out of his drink, and you had to stop your eyes from traveling down to his Adam's apple. "I mean, at least he can still see 'em... sometimes. If he isn't too petty."

To think that Saito wasn't grumpy—or not grumpy at all before his divorce made you hum. Because thinking back to the day you moved your things inside, he greeted you curtly with a scowl on his face as if he didn't want you here. But your thoughts would be cut off by Toji's voice.

"... Hey, if it isn't weird, how old are ya?" the question made you pause for a second, fork going limp in your hand. Toji almost shat himself at your reaction, but he kept his cool. "I know it's a well-known rule not to ask a woman her age, but uh-..." his gaze flickers from yours and down to his plate before meeting yours again.

"I just have no damn clue about yours."

Toji's usually unreadable expression finally became readable—the boyish look on his face, the subtle flush on his cheeks from the alcohol in his system, the shy grin? And you thought his normally aloof expression was hot, but this one completely steals the cake. The perfect mix of cute and sexy. And if you didn't know any better, you would've kissed him right on the spot.

But you aren't that tipsy, and you do know better.

"I'm 24, almost 25 in just a few months."

Toji almost spat out his drink.

"Are you okay? Water—do you need water?!"

"No, no. I'm alright. Just... Jesus Christ." with hopes to drive out the embarrassment coursing through him after his little scene, he took a small sip of his beer to get his shit straight. "No offense, princess, but I thought you were younger than that—you look the part, alright?"

Toji thinks back to the first week he saw you. He's heard from Tanaka, the guy you work for (who's also in the same complex as him and you), that there would be a new tenant joining in after the last one left for whatever reason. And on the day he locked eyes on you—look, Toji can admit that the way he stared at your back view wasn't entirely... innocent. His eyes raked down your curves, the subtle arch of your back, how graceful you moved—he felt like a man dying of thirst.

Then you turned around, probably wondering who's been staring for the past minute, it was like a bucket of ice was thrown at him—bucket included.

In short, he thought you were just some fresh college graduate trying to live her new life independently. Because, y'know, despite looking legal, you were just too young for him to continue thinking about anything more.

Was what he thought of before he finally had the guts to ask.

"So, you're tellin' me... You're not 19? 18?" a giggle left you as he continued with the numbers he thought was your age, smiling even harder as he progressively mentions younger ages.

"24. Mid twenties." your friends told you multiple times that you look young for your age while they look like they're already going through their midlife crises. "Not 18 or anything younger than that."

... Toji isn't as worried as he was four months ago. In fact, all worries about you being not even half his age vanished into thin air the moment you clarified and corrected his suspicions. And now, he's wondering if the stares and blushing cheeks you would send his way were intentional or not—and if you were hospitable enough to let him sleep on your bed for an entirely different reason.

And you were.

-

"T-Toji, please-" your hands try to pull Toji's face away from your overstimulated pussy, lips puffy and dripping with both your essence and his beer-laced drool. He already made you cum twice just from his tongue and thumb alone. No fingers inserted in any hole. But all of your needy complaints were met with a gentle peck to the clit—not till now, at least. Not when his leaking cock is starting to get impatient from the lack of friction.

Toji removes himself from the apex of your trembling, marked-up thighs. You see his tongue dart out to lick his lips, tasting the sweet residue you left on it. Of course, your pussy replied by clenching around nothing. It's one thing to have him eat you out, but having him inside is one thing that you desperately wanted—needed.

"Please what, princess? Use your words, I know you still have 'em inside that pretty head of yours." he coos out as he goes up so that you two can be face-to-face, lips brushing against yours in a featherlight kiss.

"Inside. I need you inside. N-No more games, please..."

He knows he shouldn't utter God's name under any obscene circumstance—but he doesn't believe in all of that Catholic, or whatever holy bullshit the masses follow. Because God, the way you sound and taste is heavenly. His eyes trail down from your dazed expression, to your beautiful tits, and to the space you made between your legs for him, dripping pussy waiting to get stuffed by him.

"C'mon, Toji..." your nails scrape at his forearms, angry red lines blossoming as you wait impatiently for his reply.

And who is he to deny you any longer? Not when you're looking up at him so sweetly, how your eyes plea silently under his cool shadow that's shielding you from anyone's view.

"Alright." he licked his lips again, eyes now hooded as he lines himself into you.

"Stop me if it hurts, don't prioritize me." a shudder captures your entire body for a second as he gives the cartilage of your ear a bite, the vibration from his voice doing little—absolutely no help.

"'Cuz it's all you right now, princess. You. Remember that."

-

An hour ago, he was just about to walk out your door, stomach full with delicious pasta and the sudden butterflies he felt near the end of your conversation. You decided to walk him to the door even if it was only a few meters away, he couldn't deny you when you insisted so keenly, like you wanted to see more of him. He didn't think too much of it, though.

"Great pasta, by the way." his voice sounded more lazy compared to the sure and casual tone he had before.

Maybe it was because of the cheap beer, maybe it was because of your great pasta, or was it just the magnetic pull you both felt as you stood face-to-face Probably the former.

"You think so? I'd hate to burst your bubble, but that was just a pre-made sauce from the grocery. Nothing too special." you snorted as you leaned against the door frame with your arms crossed.

Toji tried so hard not to stare down there, how your chest squeezed together as you made yourself comfortable. So he decided to get a grip, and stay respectful like how any normal adult would. But he did notice a few things change, like how your smile wasn't as forced anymore, shoulders not as tense with heightened nerves. He really scored with the cheap booze from Tanaka.

"It tasted like it was." it was meant to be a simple tease, a quick jab to make you laugh again. He wasn't even trying to be suggestive or anything, but the way he said it doesn't sound like it was innocent teasing.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You both stared into each other's eyes like you were searching for something—an answer, a confirmation—something. Silence would be the only thing that answered, not the low rasp from Toji. You should probably tell him to leave-

"I should go, it's gettin' a bit late." he clears his throat, snapping not just you, but him as well out of your sudden stupor. "Probably need to fix something like Sato's sink." he doesn't have anything to fix or mend, he's free and he knows it.

"Right," you nodded as you took a quick glance at the golden hallway, glowing under the sunset's oranges, reds, and purples before returning your gaze back to him. "I'll see you... next time, yeah."

Toji gave you another nod, a quick one since he started to feel his composure crumble with each passing second he's staring at you. But not even three steps in, he felt something soft grasp at his wrist, hesitant and unsure.

It was your hand.

"... Y/N?" it was like your floating consciousness finally shot straight back at you the moment Toji called out your name, eyes going down to where he was looking at. "Shit." you think. "Shit, shit, shit." you had never seen your hand retract faster from something that wasn't burning up till now.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to-"

"Do you want me not to leave?" he made you pause entirely, feet moving back to where they were seconds ago. "You can just say so, y'know." he wasn't trying to be mean, you know that, but your stubborn nerves couldn't help themselves from spiking up.

"N-No, not at all! I just..." you didn't even have an excuse prepared—you weren't even prepared for your hand to do that. Just before you could wring your brain dry with a coherent excuse, he continued.

"All I'm sayin' is we're not 17 anymore, that we don't have enough bushes to play around in our big ages." he scratched the back of his head. He didn't know if he was even making the right call—and even if he was drunk, he'd never use that as an excuse.

"So, d'ya want me to stay? All I need is a 'yes' or a 'no', then I'll leave—" he took a step closer to you, the height difference between the two of you more than obvious. "Or stay, whatever your answer is."

"... Yes." you mumbled, and it wasn't loud enough for him to hear, you could tell by how he raised a brow, curious and anticipating.

"What was that, princess?"

"Yes, you can stay."

At the sound of your resounding yes, Toji wasted not a second longer. One of his hands cradled your jaw as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. It was hesitant at first, like he was wading through treacherous waters, wary of anything. But when you responded with your hands gripping at the front of his shirt?

He lost it.

"Toji-" your breath mingled with one another as you both pulled back once the air inside of your lungs vanished, pants heavy and loud. You were still holding onto him even after the unexpected kiss, and so was he. His hands felt hot against your hips, but weirdly grounding.

"Can I-" his forehead bumped against yours. He wasn't even trying to hide how worked up you've got him—eyes shimmering with intent, hands massaging your hips, lips shining with whoever's saliva, his or yours—he doesn't care anymore.

"Can I... head back inside, princess?"

"Yes."

-

plap!

"Princess?"

plap!

"Y/N!"

plap!

"He—eey, thought I lost you- fuck... back there for a sec'nd." your eyes focus back on the figure panting and sweating on top of you, dazed eyes meeting equally dazed ones. "Don't tap out just yet, this' only the second round. m'still not done with you- oh-... fuck. And I'm sure you aren't, too."

... Since when did you get stuck thinking about earlier mid fucking?

Maybe he's just stuffing you up so good with that fat cock of his, all raw and bare inside of your velvety walls. You can tell that he's about to coat it all white again, fuck it into you for the second time like a starving man. He doesn't care how filthy the aftermath would be. He's a messy man making a mess out of you on your bed.

"That was real cute, sugar, but I really need your focus on me." your hand practically flew to your mouth the moment a loud moan escaped past your swollen lips. Toji has the audacity to ram into you harder, like he's grounding you to this moment—marking thus moment to your mind with each thrust.

"Nothin' else, just me and my cock inside, alright?" all you can give him is a mindless nod, not trusting your mouth to say something coherent.

"Abso-fucking-lutely no distractions."

After this, you don't even have to worry about washing the stains off. Why? Well, Toji's gonna go out of his way to buy you new ones instead. He's sure Tanaka can give him a neat discount for some pretty, pink bedsheets.

mdni. másturbation (m)

Five texts, and they're all left on delivered by you.

The first one still had all of his suave, all of his confidence. Then 30 minutes passed, there was still no reply, not even a reaction or anything. All of his confidence would then fade as he typed the following 4.

"Why are you being so difficult..." Satoru hissed through gritted teeth, clearly frustrated.

Last night, he was bummed. He was supposed to be partying all night with you, playing games till you both end up in a bed with nothing but perverted thoughts about each other. But you weren't there, too far and too distant for him to hold.

But he didn't look like he was in the pictures your friends sent, hands all over girls he probably doesn't even know. Furious, you didn't bother to chat him the following day.

And that's today.

"Shit," his hand started off slow, palming his blushing tip before moving down to the base of his cock before going back up, then down again.

All that was left in his mushy brain was the nights you spent together, with you on your knees, below, on top, and everything else in-between. How your nails would make angry lines down his back, how you would clamp around him whenever he brushes against that spot inside you-

But his hands can't seem to replicate that. Not that they could, anyway.

He saw your bra hanging lounging on the small couch in his room, and his composure decided that it was the final straw. Now he's inhaling the damn thing like it's the only thing keeping him from drowning in his insatiable lust for you.

"C'mon, c'mon..." with each stroke, Satoru can feel himself coming undone, his own mind fooling him into thinking that it's your hand around him instead of his. And by the time his hand's coated white with the aftermath of his shamelessness, he swore he heard you before it all came spurting out.

"This is embarrassing. So fucking embarrassing." he hides himself from no one inside the lacy garment, his body sinking into his chair. He can't even look down, too embarrassed that you got him acting this way.

Then, his phone lit up, ears picking up on the familiar ringtone.

He's never grabbed his phone so fast before, and the notification didn't disappoint one bit.

@Y/N: what do you even want

"Two fuckin' hours, and you finally decided to reply?" a groan that sounds both annoyed and relieved left him as he quickly typed back a reply. He shouldn't even feel this way, not when the two of you aren't even together.

But he is.

@thatguysatoru: what do I want?

He took a second to sigh, at himself and this stupid situation.

@thatguysatoru: you

@thatguysatoru: I want you

He's praying you don't flip off and block him after that, because it's true.

Because right now, he wants nothing more than to apologize and kiss his way through the angry glare you're going to give him once you see each other again—to make things right.

art by: @/yamada_souko on X (twitter)

boss!gojo x fem!reader

a/n: hello! to the few who has read the suguru oneshot preview, this is my own way of apologizing since it's taking too long to write :') it's at 6k words atm, so it's going to be a pretty long one! but as of right now, please have this satoru drabble.

c/w: mdni. smut, p in v, porn with a hint of plot, unprotected sex, satoru does pull out in the end, slight filth(I think), reader is a bit unsure here but she's willing, satoru likes your boobies, biting,

d/c: this is not proofread at all and there may be grammar mistakes as english isn't my first language. may be a bit nonsensical at times

w/c: 1.1k

“That’s right baby, yeah- fuck.” Satoru exhales low and slow as you sink on top of him, eyes zeroed in on your pretty, pretty tits as they bounce along with your movement. “Doin’ so fuckin’ well, angel.”

Satoru had a stressful week.

Countless files that were sent for him to sign stood tall on his desk like The Leaning Tower of Pisa—except it’s fragile and not immune to a mere gush of spring wind from his window. It’s not like he even read the reports, but the fact that he has so goddamn much stresses him out. If not for his naturally white hair, he’d have multiple strands of gray screaming ‘I'm stressed and old’.

So instead of doing those and actually impressing the 'big boss' Yaga for once, he gave them to you; his very special, and very needed personal assistant.

It seems like he needs you for something else right now, though.

“Shit,” you bite your lip as you finally sink down onto his lap, your sensitive clit brushing against his pubic bone. You feel the beads of sweat from your forehead trickle down slowly onto your brows, then to your warm cheeks. He smirks at that.

You don’t even know how you got here- on your boss’ lap, pencil skirt riding up along your sweat-slicked thighs, on his high-quality, probably expensive, white couch—which is absolutely ridiculous considering the stains for later to come.

Not too long ago, Satoru invited you over to his penthouse apartment to discuss his upcoming schedule. You found it weird at first, because you would normally email it to him or have it printed and ready to pin onto the corkboard near his desk.

He had other plans this afternoon, though.

It started off professional-, well, on your end, at least. He was casually manspreading in front of you, wearing a loose shirt that showed his collarbones. You wouldn’t deny that your boss is an eye-candy, but he’s your boss. Not something that made the line of professionalism and romance blurry like someone with a vision impairment staring at a sign.

Yet here you are, spread apart and heaving-, all at the mercy of your stupidly pretty boss.

“Never thought my pretty- ngh, assistant would allow me to… to take her like this.” he doesn’t wait a single second longer before burying his face into your chest, his hot pants practically a sauna with how hot it is. Then he bites. Tentative at first, as if he’s making sure he can before clamping down, sinking his teeth deep into your decolletage. You’re sure it’s going to leave a bright, tender mark in just a few minutes.

“Nice bra,” you don’t even notice when his palms start to knead into the fat of your ass, squeezing and spreading just as he’s about to slowly rock you back and forth. He grins widely when he feels you clamp around him, the low moans that leave your mouth as your clit rubs against his pubic bone practically sends him over the edge.

“All black and lacy- and those perfect fuckin’ tits-” he gives your ass a firm smack! that’s just enough to have you grasping at those hard shoulders that always have you wondering. “You're a walking wet dream for anyone.”

This suddenly reminds you of the quiet nights you had in his office, nights when your mind had the audacity to slip into dangerous territories with him around: “He’s big.”, “How many times does he bench press?”, “He probably works out daily.”. You have the gist of everything now, though.

“Mr. Gojo, I-I don't think-”

“Satoru. It's Satoru.” he corrects you. “We're already fuckin’ in my house. I'm pretty sure we've already crossed that boundary of… whatever.”

You don't even bother to deny anything with a verbal answer or a gesture, not when he's hitting your g-spot like it's the only thing in his bucket list. And the sudden pace change leaves you utterly breathless and trembling on top.

All rumors of him being an alleged virgin in the office are denied right now, not when the calloused fingertips of his fingers are eagerly circling against your aching clit with the determination to prove ‘em wrong. He probably heard some of it anyway, so he knows that you know what he's doing.

“Fuck, Satoru, like that-” he watches your head loll back, and your grasping fingers gives him an ego boost. “Just like that, oh my God-”

When the two of you first met for your interview, he saw how your eyes widened for a second before they went back to their original size, saw how you gave him a quick once-over. And he doesn't blame you, everyone does when they see him. Unsurprisingly, he prides himself for that.

One of the things you took note of back then is his muscular stature, how his top strained at his arms and chest with each movement, how his veins were prominent through the thin fabric. And his hands? You're sure some people would die to get handled like a rag doll by those. In short, the very first moment you laid eyes on him, you felt like one of those MCs seeing their potential love interest in a smut novel.

Before you know it, you're brought back to reality when you feel the tingly sensation in your stomach grow even more intense—and how he's ramming into you like a desperate man instead of the shallow thrusts he was giving you earlier. You lean in to capture his lips in a kiss, leaving him surprised yet willing. Maybe this uncharacteristic neediness of yours was just lying stagnant inside of you and that this is the trigger.

“Shit, I'm gonna-” he manage to pull out in the last second before thick ropes of white coated the entirety of his tip, making sure to keep his fingers moving so that you could cum with him at the same time—and make you a bit overstimulated just because he can.

Whoever said that post-nut clarity wasn't a thing was lying because right now all you can think about is finding a new job and or fly to a faraway country where no one knows who you are and what you just did with Satoru. No one in their right mind would allow their boss to fuck them—in their own damn house, too-

“Just… gimme a moment,” your eyes go back to him the moment he broke the silence, watching as he leans back heavily against his couch, how a long, heavy sigh escapes his throat. You don't know if it's relief or disbelief, but it's one hell of a sigh.

“Gimme a moment and then I'll clean us up.” his left hand gives your hip a gentle squeeze as if he can hear your worrisome thoughts, thumb brushing against your skin. “And you're still employed, by the way.”

Touch Yourself

megumi fushiguro x fem!reader

a/n: hello! I just wanted to write a quick post when I realized that the geto fic I'm working on might take a bit longer than I anticipated. this one is inspired by Touch Yourself by The Japanese House. most of my inspiration come from songs, so please expect more of that!

c/w: mdni. mentions of masturbation (reader), cussing, megumi has a small breakdown, megumi took a quick peek of reader if you're not really into that

d/c: this isn't proofread at all, and the grammar/depth may lack in some areas. english isn't my first language

“Calm down, calm down-” Megumi places a hand where his heart would be, and he can feel the organ pounding hard as if it wants nothing more than to escape the shackles of his ribcage. “You've already seen someone do that before, don't act like a fuckin’...”

Yeah, he can't calm down. He knows that all attempts are going to end up being futile.

“... kid.”

Just seconds ago, he was standing right outside of your dorm room. He wanted to ask you if you'd like to join him and the others—Yuji and Nobara—for a quick trip to the convenience store not too far away. He was about to knock, but the door was slightly ajar, and he peeked through.

The sight he was met with absolutely left him dumbfounded and breathless.

Because there you were, hair splayed all over the soft cushion of your pillow nestled beneath your head, your lower lip tucked beneath your teeth as your fingers glided in small circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your quaking thighs. You were touching yourself, and he's getting the view.

All rational thoughts left him—and when he heard the tiniest of moans, it snapped him back to reality. And with the composure he had left, he quickly made a beeline to the hallway leading to the common room where Nobara and Yuji were. Now here he is, heart beating erratically with the fair skin of his cheeks ablaze.

What makes it worse for him is that his feelings for you aren't exactly… friendly. It's tiptoeing on the line of platonic and something more, and he isn't sure if he wants to face it because he knows what people think of him; standoffish, blunt but sharp with dry sarcasm, snarky—like an urchin, he thinks, sharp and untouchable in most places.

You're the exact opposite, though.

You're kind, always so caring even towards the people who're practically cussing you out, forgiving yet know when to speak up when something or someone is in the wrong—the exact opposite. You remind him of Tsumiki in a way, how she's his moral compass and how you're slowly starting to morph into it, too.

He doesn't know how to handle his feelings. It was all overwhelming, like a broken faucet spilling and spraying water everywhere—overflowing. He wants it to stop, but at the same time he doesn't. Is this what those people with a longtime vice feel? Conflicted even when the clear answer is to just stop?

“God, what are you doing to me?” he runs a hand down his face, exasperated and embarrassed. “What are you doing to me?”

But seeing you all flush with ecstasy and pleasure made him think of something else, something new. He wants to be the one making you feel that way, to be the one to touch you in ways no one can, murmur you those quiet assurances, and tell you that you're doing good—he doesn't even want these thoughts in his head, but they keep popping up, so maybe he does. Or he doesn't. Who's to say anymore?

“Yo, Fushiguro! You asked her if she's coming with us?” like a deer caught in the headlights, Megumi freezes up for the second time before forcing his tense body to relax. Yuji isn't standing that far from him, and the last thing he wants is for him to see right through him. Not that he couldn't, he's sure that he can, but he's hoping he doesn't.

“Couldn't,” he clears his throat before facing a curious Yuji. “She's asleep. I didn't want to wake her up, that'd be rude.”

With an understanding ‘ah’, Yuji gave him a thumbs up and said something along the lines of “We should get going” in that cheery tone of his before he started to walk back to the common room. All he could do was give him a nod, a pathetic one.

“What are you doing to me?” he asks for the third time, and he isn't sure who he's asking anymore. But he knows that he needs answers before the dam holding back these feelings breaks and leaves him into tiny, little pieces.

And he needs it fast. Because the last thing he wants is to say something that'll be the cost of your relationship with him, and he doesn't want to lose you in such a sad way. Not like that.

Teaser: We Don't Talk Anymore (Maybe Now?)

ex!geto suguru x fem!reader

summary: You and Gojo have been friends for a while now, good friends. At one of your many hangouts with him, you mention a past on-and-off relationship of yours online, where your ex knew nothing about you and you knew nothing about him. The only thing that you did know was his voice and a nickname, Sugu. Gojo thought that the whole thing was sad and pathetic, so he decided to schedule another get-together two weeks later where you meet two—well, one of his friends, Suguru.

a/n: this is the short preview for my upcoming fic! this idea came to me during a listening session, actually. we don't talk anymore was playing and I thought of my ex, so what's a better coping mechanism than writing? I actually saw her letter in my google docs after opening it for the very first time in years. it was scary. this is also the very first fic I'm writing and publishing here on tumblr, so please be wary of errors and whatnot—english isn't my native language as well !

Time flies rather quickly after what was supposed to be your relaxing Wednesday night after Satoru disturbed it with a call. You were smoking and listening to the faraway traffic and city sounds before your phone rang loudly, only Satoru’s voice to greet you on the other end of the line.

Now, you're standing in front of a brunette and a guy who's almost as tall as your white-haired friend. Satoruvs enthusiastically introducing everyone to each other, beaming grin in tow. You remember Shoko, though, having met her before when Satoru made an impromptu get-together. If you remember correctly, it was the same reason as this.

The sun's ablaze today, though. So, Satoru better hurry up before all of you melt like sad sundaes under the heat.

“Shoko, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Shoko.” Satoru gestures to Shoko with his hans first. She gives you a friendly wave along with a nonchalant smile, then Satoru gestures to you who's giving her an acknowledging wave back.

"Just making sure you two remember each other," he glances at the two of you. "It's pretty rude if you didn't."

"I'm pretty sure they remember each other well, Satoru." your ears perk up at the sound of a voice, and it's like a Winter Soldier woke up within your very soul the moment if fully registered in your brain. That voice, that tone and octave—that fucking voice-

“Suguru, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Suguru, a.k.a. Mr. Piercings.” Satoru gestures again. But this time, you're frozen.

“Nice meeting you, Y/N.” Suguru begins and it snaps you right back to reality as if you were woken up with an ice bath. “I hope Satoru didn't coerce you here. I heard your schedule is pretty… rough compared to ours."

You blink twice, then open your mouth to reply.

“Oh- uh, yeah. Glad to be here.” you clear your throat before giving him a nod. And as you raise your head up again, his own expression changes into something like shock—but you don't trust your eyes. Not really when the sun's burning them, and they're probably playing tricks for all you know.

Because there's no way in hell this is the same guy you keep thinking about for years now. There's just no. way. But Sugu… Suguru… don't they sound the same? Sure, the end of his name is missing but-

Nope. No. You're not doing that. Not now and here of all places—no. You'll save all that thinking for later.

"Suguru? Y/N?" your heads immediately snap to Satoru who's stariing right back at the two of you, and Shoko's not any better. "The hell was that? What's up with the awkward pause? You guys know each other?"

Shoko crosses her arms, as she glances between you and him. She's not saying anything, but her eyes are practically asking the same thing.

"What? No, no we don't know each other." Suguru's eyes glance back at you, and you swore your heart stopped for a second.