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conveynreflect · 2 months ago

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office worker!toji ⤬ runaway!reader

office worker!toji who wants nothing but to get home and knock out in his bed, head a little fogged after a few drinks with the guys. he's been exhausted from his co-workers asking if he could finish up some of their work. and of course, he agrees. they all have families to come home too, while he doesn't. meaning it wouldn't be trouble for him if he stayed back for a few hours. a curse, really. but now that he's finally got a chance to let loose, he feels like a heavy weight has been lifted upon him.

office worker!toji who walks down the streets to his apartment from the station. it's gotten colder the past few nights, and the thought only adds a returned weight to his shoulders. his steps are slow as he tries to think of what to do with winter approaching. meaning bundling up, overtime, and gifts. great.. gift-giving was never toji's strong suit, considering that thinking about others was always deemed a hassle to him. he never was able to keep a girlfriend in high school, either addressing the wrong names, or even forgetting important dates as simple as a anniversary. essentially resulting in no more girlfriend, and a completely clean slate to rebuild some sort of connection if he hopes to settle down with someone.

office worker!toji who sees a figure under a streetlight hunched over like a ball, looking like a terrified cat. he stops a little before the figure to see whats going on, squinting as the light shines down upon them brightly. "hey, do even you know what time it is?" he says a little harsh, but it didn't seem to elicit a response. he's about to open his mouth once more, but he's met with the eyes of a girl. ones of a high school student it seemed at that.

office worker!toji who is so confused why some highschool student is out this late, wearing a uniform that is definitely not used by any of the schools around the area nonetheless. "i'm aware," you say, too calm for his liking.

"you should go home."

"no trains are running."

"so y'r just gonna stay out here?"

"it's too cold to."

"so what are you gonna do then?"

"..."

"i'll go home with you."

office worker!toji who is bewildered. either kids have gotten really dumb, or people have simply left their instincts behind after the new generation. "you shouldn't go home with some stranger you just met. nonetheless, a man." he rubs his temples, but you just smile.

"but i don't have anywhere else to go.."

"why don't you stay at one of the internet cafes down 3 blocks?"

"can't really do much without any money."

"you.. you want to stay at my place, because you're broke?"

"yeah, pretty much."

"...in return, i can sleep with you."

office worker!toji who blinks, trying the process the words that just came out of your mouth. "don't say things like that, even as a joke." he mutters, the night seemingly stretched longer. "i really will sleep with you.." you deject, voice unwavering. "i'm not doing that to some girl half my age." you sigh, recollecting yourself before tilting your head a bit.

"then, i'll stay for free!"

"..this is your place? it's... filthy." you mutter, eyeing all the empty beer cans. toji just grunts, beginning to slip off his shoes. "which is normal for a single middle aged man-.. living in a single bedroom apartment." he retorts, getting his shoes off and immediately going for his bed.

his large form takes most of the bed, his back is turned to you. "you're going to sleep?" you ask, padding closer. "yeah, feel free to do the same." he replies, unmoving. you unbutton your dress shirt, leaning in behind him.

"my offer still stands, y'know."

"not interested, go to sleep."

"right, okay mister." and you slip off your coat, settling in beside him staring at the ceiling. he's nice. you think, getting a roof over your head without payment. you're thankful, but you feel weird about not being able to give him something in return.

you hear his light snoring, he knocked out already...?

ah, well. you should too, you can worry about a payment tomorrow morning.

#writing acc >.<

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conveynreflect · 2 months ago

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♱ ⸝⸝ i wanna stay but , playboys we don't dance .

cw. older brothers bestfriend!sukuna ༝ ballet dancer!reader , nsfw , car sex , piv , super whipped kuna , ooc kuna cause yessss... lwky streetracer!sukuna too umm, written with the color violet by tory lanez in mind (cant believe he got stabbed.)

it's 9 pm on a friday afternoon, the two of you in the backseat of his ZL1. large hands on your waist guiding you to meet his thrusts as you lay prettily like putty in his hands against his chest, he does all the work usually. and he doesn't mind it, considering he's your first and he'd do anything to stay as your last. his nose presses against your neck, the scent of florals and vanilla invading his senses. a scent he already committed to memory. a scent that reminds him of you.

his hands slide up under your dress, trying to get a feel of all of you while he listens to your whines. the prettiest sounds he's ever heard, from the prettiest girl.. your brother will definitely kill him.

you guys met when you both were in middle school, him in 8th grade and you just enrolled into 6th. you were his buddies little sister, always known as his little sister and nothing more. he tolerated you, didn't really ever make remarks towards you knowing he would have his head on a stick if your brother ever found out. so you three were peas in a pod, your brother always making sure you were with him so he can keep track of you and have you experience some sense of a normal childhood, knowing it'd be exploited soon enough by the time you reached high school yourself.

they both would walk you to school like a your personal bodyguards. since the highschool was next to the middle school, even after they went to grade 9 they stayed accompanying you. a routine, for 4 years until the two boys graduated and went to college. having to leave you behind for Utokyo, sukuna hadn't seen you after that. your brother visiting you when he was free instead of you coming to him, sukuna didn't think much of it. that was, until your brother decided to graduate early and make big moves to the states. you had just gotten into college and absolutely devastated you only had one year with your dear brother, him leaving sukuna as your guardian for his last year as a senior.

it wasn't as bad as he'd thought, you didn't really make a fuss or anything. just had his number as an emergency contact, but rarely heard from you. he'd do monthly check ups in honor to stay loyal to your brother's request, you'd say your okay and both of you would go on your merry ways. months quickly passed. and it was already sukuna's turn to graduate. you didn't have any family that was as close as your brother, since you two were the son and daughter of very busy figures. and sukuna's little brother yuuji that was the same grade as you, claimed he was busy.

you attended his graduation, cheering when he gets his name called and receiving his diploma. he was surprised, when you ran to him after the ceremony with roses and a stuffed bear just for him. (more like for you since it was the brown male version rilakkuma to your favorite bear korilakkuma) he never expressed it, but he appreciated having you around.

since then, you two had gotten closer. having a more casual relationship with occasional meet ups, you'd have performances and give him your plus one ticket. while he had his races and you'd get vip seating, sometimes even getting to ride with him during practice runs. although you like the thrill, he has only let you join a handful of times for safety reasons. it was now your senior year, with you freshly 21 it was natural you wanted to go get drinks and celebrate your coming of age. sukuna of course tagging along, muttering something about "needing to make sure you don't get laced or some shit.". you get to a booth with your of age friends, them all clearly oogling him but he'd be glancing at everything else. from the dance floor to the bar he so longingly wants to perch at, on a stool and drink his own heart away. but he stays sitting next to you, on the end to make sure no idiot gets close to you. his arm was outstretched your direction behind you casually, as you nursed at least 8 shots. your alcohol tolerance was never good, when your brother and sukuna drank in highschool, you were always welcomed to join but only ever had soju mixed in with some sprite or yakult. he knew your limits, and he knew your habits, your likes and dislikes.

you tapped out fairly early as he predicted and decided to leave, tapping sukuna's thigh and he paid your part on the check given to the table. (birthday girl privileges he explained) the two of you then made your way out to his car. he drove you back to your place, but you had asked him to stay when he was about to turn the other way. he was reluctant, but stayed standing where he was. you said to get a bag of his stuff to stay the night while you shower off the sweat and smell of alcohol. and get he did, deciding to bring a pack of beer as well so he can drink as much as he missed at the club.

you didn't seem drunk, far from it. coming out your bedroom to him watching some movie and cleaned up himself. clad in a tee and pajama pants, his cherry blossom colored hair damp. you'd settle down next to him, curious about what he's drinking. he'd give his currently opened can for you to taste, knowing you'd hate it and scrunch your face. when you scrunch your face, he'd laugh and get you some water to rid of the taste. you never liked beer, so why would you now? you always liked routine, never strayed far from what you liked, consistent. he watched as you down the glass of water, beginning to munch on one the various snacks you had on the coffee table when you felt like picking at something, something that was occasionally sponsored by sukuna. when he'd pick up groceries at the market for himself or for a friend, he'd also pluck some chips or sweets from the shelf, making sure to never have you snackless.

he knows you like the back of his hand, you're predictable.

it was the next day and you had the worst hangover ever to be recorded in the history of humans, as so you claimed. both of you had knocked out on the couch last night, but you had awoken with a wince and he sprung up. he was amused as he took in your expression, your hands rubbing all over where your could on your head in attempt to soothe the fog.

"i'm surprised, you didn't seem drunk at all." he hummed, getting up to make some sort of hangover aid with the knowledge he gained from being in the frat with your brother, that also claimed to have the worst ever human recorded hangovers.

"i was, i just.. tried really hard to keep composure i guess." you say, watching him plucking things from your kitchen. you padded over, leaning beside him to see what he was doing. "your favorite soondubu jigae you get at that korean barbecue we go to all the time is good for hangovers, i'll make it since you have the ingredients. plus an egg." he'd explain, and you always so ever attentive when he spoke.

he sets down your bowl on the kitchen island first when he's done, making sure you were seated and had a glass of water too. he settled down beside you with his portion, occasionally watching you blow on the soup.

you two finished and he washed the dishes, settling beside you on the couch once more, squeezing your calfs to soothe the ache from your heels as you laid back. you two were conversing about alcohol and it's effects, before it faded to something else.

shortly after, that new anime that came out was on the tv. then mario kart. then mario party. you both tying each time on the switch, causing you call break to shower. you go and he scrolls on his phone, hearing you calling out from your bedroom that he can shower next. he does and comes out, towel around his neck with a new tee and shorts. but instead of the tee and shorts you were wearing earlier, you wear a nightdress. red, silk. he doesn't think anything of it till you guys lounge in the dark. moonlight shining through the window, and you suddenly slide a hand up his forearm to his bicep. clinging onto him like he's one of your plushies.

he accepts it. not saying a word, not moving a muscle.

that was, before you began speaking about checking off another thing on your bucket list with him.

losing your virginity.

he spirals, brain short circuiting. you? asking him? absolutely nothing could have led him to predict that you'd ever ask him such a question, nor anything to prepare him. he had been celibate for the most part since graduating due to work, and due to male anatomy... plus his cursed imagination.

he pops a boner.

still, he refuses with every last shred of dignity he has left after that question. saying you should keep it, save it. it's something sacred. but you stay quiet, and it makes him nervous. when was the last time he felt nervous?

"am i not attractive to you?"

he melts.

you are. hell, you are in every damn way since you entered college that it hurts. but your his best friends little sister, and he respects that. he feels you beginning to slip away because he didn't respond, his hand quick to halt you at your wrist.

"you are, pea.." his voice shakes at the end, almost as if it burned to call you by that name. sweet pea. he had given you that name after his graduation, because you were so short compared to him and sweet as fuck. you look at him with those eyes, and he sighs. "boundaries," he says vaguely, "save it for someone you love."

you both sit in silence for a moment, before you move to slip off the left strap of your night dress while your other hand rests on his shoulder. "there were never any walls, why are there now?" you murmured leaning in, and he feels his heart skip a beat.

"i think... i do love you."

everything after that was a blur, you were underneath him on the couch. the same couch your brother had left you with, before he ventured off to new york. sukuna felt guilty, his hands gentle as he caressed every part of you he could in attempt to comfort you from his size. overwhelmed you felt. and terrible he feels. but all he could really do was kiss you, distract you from what you wanted. what he had wanted.

he feels your walls contracting for the 3rd time, your endurance ever so short compared to him and it's all the more endearing. he presses his lips against yours rather harshly, his hand that grabbed your face sliding down your neck to your breasts. the ones you've been insecure about for being so small, since you were small.

but he loved every part of you. so why couldn't you?

he pulls away for you to get air, fingers rolling your nipple beneath the flimsy fabric you call a dress. you're a sight, satin dress glued to your clammy skin. in red, his favorite shade too. a color that would never have graced your pretty pink and ivory hued closet if it weren't for him. you were always eager to appease him, but he was already too enamored to ever be unsatisfied. your hair was tied into a messy bun prior by him, a habit he's gained so he can feel and see you all over without your silky hair obstructing his vision. face flushed, body trembling, and a prominent bulge in your stomach from him. your his, and he's completely yours. "you left your lip gloss in my car," he murmurs, hands moving up and down your waist a few times, before finding your hand to press kisses against your palm leading to your fingertips.

you hum, watching him kiss your fingers. worshipping, he always is with you. your finger tips lightly press against his face when he releases your hand, nails dragging down to his chest. the ones he recently paid for. "haven't you known?" you murmur, confused on why he's mentioning it now.

sukuna's eyes darken as your finger traces down his neck, his pulse jumping beneath your touch. he knows exactly what he's doing, mentioning the lip gloss now. it's a reminder, a declaration. you've left pieces of yourself all over his life, little by little, until he can't ignore the fact that you're everywhere. in his car, in his apartment, under his skin.

he rolls his hips into yours, a low groan comes from his chest as he feels you clench around him. his hands grip your waist, fingers sinking into the soft flesh. he's trying to hold back, trying to be gentle, but it's a losing battle. especially when you look up at him with those big, doe eyes. eyes just like your brother's, but somehow softer. kinder.

"i've known, pea" he murmurs, voice rough and low. he knows exactly what he's doing. just like he knows that 'pea' is his new name for you. sweet. something fragile and delicate, just like you. he leans down, nose brushing your cheek as he inhales deeply. vanilla and florals fills his lungs, and he knows it's not just your perfume. it's you. It's the way you smell after a shower, after dancing, after... this.

"it's just my buddies at work know now too,"

"oh..." is all you manage under your breath, half lidded eyes flickering between his own soaking in his words. "m'sorry... what'd they say..?" you ask, wrapping your arms around his neck as you rest your head in the crook of his neck. sukuna's eyes drift shut as your arms wrap around his neck, his face burying into your hair. his hands start to wander, one tangling into your messy bun to hold you close while the other traces down the side of your neck. he feels your pulse fluttering beneath his touch, matching the rhythm of his own.

"nothing much," he whispers, voice muffled by your hair. "just gave me shit. said i was whip cream when i used to be chocolate. that i was settling down, becoming soft."

he pulls back to look at you after you laugh a bit at his metaphor, red eyes dark and intense in the moonlight streaming through the window. His thumb brushes your jaw, your cheek, the swell of your bottom lip. he's studying your face like he's trying to memorize it. like he's trying to understand how you crept under his skin without him even realizing.

"but they're not wrong," he says softly, words almost tender. "i am different. everything's different now that you're in my life."

his hand slides down to your collarbone, fingers grazing the swell of your breasts. the thin fabric of your dress does little to hide your hardened nipples. gaze following the path of his hands, eyes darkening further. "i don't want to be chocolate anymore, pea," he whispers, ducking his head to press open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone. "i want to be your whip cream. i want to be the part of your life that's sweet and perfect. that fits with everything else."

he looks up at you, expression vulnerable in a way that's completely foreign. to him. to everyone. but especially to you.

"i want to be yours," he says softly. "completely. wholly. present, and in the afterlife."

you, sensible and perfect, stare up at him with those pretty eyes that he's been seeing in his dreams. those pretty eyes that he's been waking up wanting to see every morning.

he's been thinking a lot lately. about you. about your past, his past. the two of you squished together in the tiniest apartment he could find, a bed angling out from the wall and knocking into the kitchen counter. about all the things he swore he'd never do. a relationship. commitment. the white picket fence.

but now? with you on him, around him, everywhere? your fingers tracing the shell of his ear, your warm breath hitting his neck? your thighs squeezing his waist?

he wants all of it. badly. enough to throw away every boundary line and code of honor he's ever had.

"tell me you want it too," he pleads, voice hoarse and desperate against your throat. "tell me I'm not crazy to think this could work. that your brother would kill us if he found out, but that maybe, just maybe, we could sneak glances at each other across the dinner table and steal kisses in the kitchen. that we could wake up to the smell of coffee and each other." his hand slides down from your collarbone to your waist, squeezing the dip of your ribs. holding onto you like you're something precious. something he never wants to let go. "tell me," he whispers against your throat, ears ringing. "are you mine? are we doing this, together?"

you listen to his words, head tilted towards the ceiling of the car as he hunches over to your throat. your heart beats twice as fast than it already was prior, since when was sukuna one for labels? your hands sliding up his to hold his head close, pressing your cheek against his forehead.

"you're not crazy," you breathe out, pressing kisses to the side of his face. "i want that too." you whisper, pressing your forehead into his cheek and holding him closer as if you two could merge into one.

"i'm yours ryo, completely."

yours. you said it. yours. the word repeats in his mind, sinking into his brain to carve a permanent place for itself there. he wants to laugh out loud, shout it to the world, smear it across every surface until the truth of it is blaring from ten miles away.

instead, sukuna squeezes his eyes shut and presses open mouthed kisses across your throat, his hands fisting in the fabric of your dress. one hand hooks under your knee, hitching your leg up to wrap around his hip. the other finds your jaw, tilting your face towards his like a bossy, demanding lover. his mouth crashes over yours, kissing you like he's been wanting to do it for years and finally getting permission. he kisses you until your breathless. until your lungs burn for air and your head spins from lack of oxygen. until you forget that you're still in the car, still pressed up against him with miles and miles of highway stretching out before you. he kisses down the column of your throat, fingers fumbling with the zipper at the back of your dress. it's not a request. it's an order. the command of a man who always gets what he wants. his hand slides up the curve of your side, palming the slope of your breast and tweaking a stiff nipple through the thin lace of your bra. one click. ther another. halfway down with the zipper. your dress gapes open, the chill of the air making you shudder.

this is happening. you're happening. the lines crossed. the decisions made. the past catching up to the present.

you're in this now. together. no turning back.

sukuna looks at you, red eyes blazing with mischief and hunger with a possessiveness that steals the breath from your lungs. you're both panting, both flushed, desperate to unwind the desire you both been holding eachother out on. his thumb drags across your bottom lip, smearing the lip gloss that's already smeared. marking you. claiming you. he leans in close, until you can feel the heat of his breath and the weight of his stare. he's taking it all in. memorizing every detail of your face. burning it into his mind for all of eternity.

he kisses you like he's starving for it, like you're his sustenance and he can't live without you. like he'll die if he doesn't taste you, doesn't touch you.

he kisses you like he's in love with you. like he's always been in love with you. like he'll never stop.

he needs to get you under him, around him, everywhere. all at once.

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