(* ^ ω ^)

i just really luv toji

[saltoncity]

im not a girlblogger im an ADULT. im a WOMANblogger this is WOMANblogging

[honeybunmonni]

missed calls . . . (⌒ω⌒) car sex with ex!toji mmmm….

warnings : car sex ,, cheating ,, unprotected sex ,, p in v ,, emotional manipulation ,, minor angst ,, toxic relationship dynamics.

you knew better.

you knew better than to get in toji's car. knew better than to let him sweet-talk you with that gravelly voice and those dark eyes that stripped you bare without even trying. knew better than to believe him when he said he "just wanted to talk."

but here you were anyway, fog creeping up the windows of his black sedan, your sundress bunched around your waist, and toji's mouth hot against your throat.

"fuck, i missed this," he growled against your skin, his large hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as you straddled him in the cramped backseat. "missed you."

you should't let those word affect you. shouldn't shouldn't let them sink into your chest and make something warm and desperate bloom there. he had a girlfriend now. had moved on. this was wrong, so completely and utterly wrong, but—

his phone lit up on the center console.

'my love' with THREE red heats, something his girlfriend did. he hated it. always did. it made your stomach twist immediately when you saw it.

'toji—"

"ignore it," he muttered, his scarred lip dragging along your collarbone as his fingers found the edge of your panties. "she's not important right now."

the phone stopped ringing. started again almost immediately.

you should stop this. should climb off his lap, straighten your dress, and walk away with whatever dignity you had left. but then tori's fingers slipped beneath the lace, finding you already wet and wanting, and coherent thought became impossible.

"still so fucking responsive," he murmured, almost reverent, as he circled your clit with practiced ease. he knew your body better than anyone ever had—knew exactly how much your thighs tremble. "no one else touches you like i do, do they?"

you bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer, but your body betrayed you. your hips rolled against his hand, chasing the friction, and his low chuckle vibrated through your chest.

"that's what i though."

the phone rang again. and again, you both ignored it.

toji's free hand fisted in your hair, tugging your head back so he could claim your mouth in a bruising kiss. it was all teeth and tongue and barely restrained hunger—nothing gentle about it, nothing sweet. this was toji stripped down to his basest instincts: possessive, demanding, overwhelming.

you fumbled with his belt, desperate now, and he helped you shove his pants down just enough to free his cock. thick and heavy in your palm, already leaking at the tip. the weight of him, the heat—god, you'd tried to forget, tried to move on, but nothing compared to this.

"condom—" you started, but he shook his head.

"don't have one." his eyes met yours, dark and intense. "you trust me?"

you shouldn't. you absolutely shouldn't. but you nodded anyway, and the grin that split his face was absolutely wicked.

he pushed your panties aside and lined himself up, the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance. for a moment, he just held you there, trembling and needy above him, and you could've killed him for the teasing.

"toji, please—"

he slammed you down onto him in one brutal thrust.

the stretch was immediate and overwhelming, punching the air from your lungs. too much, too full, too perfect. your nails dug into his shoulders as you adjusted to the intrusion, and toji groaned low in his throat, his head falling back against the seat.

"fuck, you're tight," he gritted out. "forgot how good you feel wrapped around my cock, ma..."

you couldn't respond, couldn't do anything but hold on as he started moving—lifting you up and pulling you back down, using his grip on your hips to control the pace. deep, punishing thrusts that hit something devastating inside you with every stroke.

the car rocked with your movements, the windows were completely fogged now, the air thick and humid with sex and sweat. every nerve ending in your body was on fire, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your core.

his phone rang AGAIN.

"shit," toji hissed, but he didn't stop. didn't even slow down. just kept fucking up into you like his girlfriend warns desperately trying to reach him, like this wasn't the most fucked up thing either of you had done.

"you should—ah!—answer it—oh fuck!" you gasped out and moaned, even as your body betrayed you, clenching around him so perfectly.

"no." his voice was rough, almost angry. "i'm exactly where i want to be."

something about that—the certainty in his voice, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered—made your chest ache even as your body climbed higher. this was temporary. this was a mistake. tomorrow you'd hate yourself for this, hate him for making you the other woman, but right now-

right now, you were his, and he was yours, and nothing else existed.

toji shifted the angle, hitting that spot inside you that made stars explode behind your eyelids. your orgasm built fast and devastating, and when his thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles, you shattered.

you came with a broken cry of his name, your whole body seizing as pleasure whited out your vision. toji fucked you through it, prolonging it, until you were a shaking, oversensitive mess in his arms.

"that's it, baby," he groaned. "fuuuuck, im gonna—"

he buried himself deep and came with a guttural moan, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you with his hot cum. the warmth of it, the intimacy of it, made something crack in your chest.

for a long moment, neither of you moved. just sat there, breathing hard, bodies still joint, while reality slowly crept back in.

his phone lit up again. another call. then a text notification.

'where are you? i'm worried.'

the guilt hit you like a freight train.

"i should go," you whispered, already climbing off his lap, wincing at the loss of him. your legs were shaky as your straightened your dress, tried to make yourself presentable.

toji caught your wrist. "hey—"

"don't." you couldn't look at him. couldn't bear to see whatever expression was on his face. "this was a mistake. we both know it."

you opened the car door and stepped out into the cool night air, toji's release already starting to leak down your thighs. you didn't look back as you walked away, even though you could feel his eyes on you.

your phone buzzed in your purse.

toji: same time next week?

you should block his number. should delete the message and pretend this never happened.

instead, you typed back: maybe.

and you both knew that meant yes.

okay… i don’t normally write smut so this suuuucks :(

[kissysatoru]

"5 likes isn't a lot" ok so imagine 5 gojos in your room

[honeybunmonni]

husband!toji and the life he never planned for (o´∀`o) !

no one who knows toji would ever guess he's married.

it's not that he hides it on purpose. it's just... toji has always been the kind of man who exists slightly outside the lines of ordinary life. he drifts in and out of places like a passing storm-dangerous, quiet, and impossible to predict. people know his reputation long before they know him, and the stories about him are never gentle ones.

which is exactly why the first time someone sees the ring on his finger, they usually assume it doesn't mean anything.

but it does.

it means you.

the apartment you share with toji isn't fancy, and it definitely isn't tidy most of the time. his boots are usually kicked off somewhere near the door, his jacket slung over the back of a chair like he dropped it there mid-thought. there are small signs of him everywhere-scratches in the wooden table from knives he absentmindedly twirls, the faint smell of smoke that lingers in the curtains, the quiet heaviness that fills a room the moment he walks into it.

yet somehow, mixed in with all of that roughness, there are pieces of you too.

your plants by the window that he pretends not to care about but waters when you forget. your mugs in the cupboard, even though he only ever drinks from the same chipped one. your blankets draped over the couch, because toji runs warm but always pulls one over you when you fall asleep there.

it's a strange combination, the life the two of you have built together. messy and quiet and a little rough around the edges.

but it works.

toji isn't the kind of husband who hovers anxiously or fusses over every little thing. in fact, most days he seems almost lazily indifferent, stretched out across the couch with his long legs hanging over the armrest while you move around the apartment doing whatever it is you're doing. he watches you sometimes with half-lidded eyes, like a large cat observing something mildly interesting.

if you ask him what he's looking at, he'll just shrug.

“nothing.”

but the way his gaze lingers says otherwise.

toji's version of love is subtle, the kind you only notice if you're paying attention.

like the way he always waits up when you're out late, even though he pretends he wasn't. you'll walk through the door to find the lights off and the apartment quiet, only to see his silhouette on the couch, one arm draped across his face like he fell asleep there hours ago. but the moment you set your keys down, his eyes open immediately.

“took you long enough,” he mutters, voice rough with sleep.

he never says he was worried.

he doesn't need to.

then there are the moments when toji forgets to hide how soft he can be.

they're rare, fleeting things-little cracks in the armor he's spent most of his life building. like the mornings when you wake up to find him already awake, lying on his side and quietly watching you sleep. the moment your eyes flutter open, he looks away immediately, grumbling something about getting up.

or the nights when he comes home later than usual, shoulders tense from whatever trouble he's been dealing with. those are the nights he's quieter than normal, his presence heavy but restless as he moves around the apartment.

you've learned that the best thing to do in those moments is simply sit next to him.

no questions.

no pressure.

just you beside him on the couch, your shoulder brushing his arm while the room settles into a comfortable silence.

eventually, without saying anything, toji's hand finds yours.

his grip is warm and strong, fingers loosely intertwined with yours like he's grounding himself there.

it always surprises people how gentle he is with you.

toji fushiguro-who moves through the world like it's something to conquer-treats you like something fragile in the best possible way. not weak, never weak. but precious in a way he doesn't quite know how to explain.

he'll rest his chin on your head when you're standing together in the kitchen, his arms loosely wrapped around your waist while you cook. he'll tug you closer when the two of you are walking through crowded streets, his large hand settled firmly against the small of your back.

and sometimes, when he thinks you aren't paying attention, he'll look at you with an expression that almost feels like disbelief.

like he still isn't entirely sure how you ended up here.

how someone like him managed to build something as normal as a home.

one night, long after the city has gone quiet, you find him standing by the balcony door. the lights from outside spill across his shoulders, outlining the broad shape of him against the dark room.

you step up beside him without a word.

toji glances down at you, then exhales softly through his nose.

“y'know,” he says after a moment, voice low and thoughtful in a way you don't hear very often, “never thought id end up like this.”

you tilt your head and ask, “like what?”

he gestures vaguely behind him-at the apartment, the couch, the soft glow of the kitchen light still on.

“…domestic.”

you laugh quietly.

and for a second, toji just watches you with that same strange look in his eyes.

then he reaches over, pulling you against his side with one strong arm.

“don't get used to it,” he mutters, even though his grip tightens slightly, like he has no intention of letting you go.

the truth is, toji never planned for a life like this.

never planned for quiet evenings, shared meals, soft laughter echoing through a small apartment.

he definitely never planned to fall in love.

but if you asked him now-really asked him-whether he'd change it?

toji would probably scoff, roll his eyes, and tell you not to ask stupid questions.

all while his hand finds yours again.

and stays there.

stop im nervous :33 but this is my first fic yay!!! (⌒▽⌒)☆