Toji Fushiguro X Black Reader - Tumblr Posts

I want that one

omg i haven’t done a hc in sooo long. but drunk toji would be a FORCE.

for one, he’s always down to fuck you

usually toji’s rough during sex but for some reason when he’s drunk he’s more…sensual ??

you’d swear he’d taken one of those ecstasy pills from the gas station with the way he’d come back home ready to break your back in

toji could usually be between your legs for hours on end, but being drunk literally keeps him from getting lock jaw ?? he built weird idk

but expect to cum at least six times in a night if toji’s ever home drunk

if you guys are out, he’s quick to get staticky

like that man is ready to rumble ! especially bout you okayyy

you’d excuse yourself from the table to grab him a water from the bar only to come back to see your mutual friends holding toji back

“the fuck is going on?!”

“some dick was making jabbs at you when you walked away. said some nasty shit and now i wanna knock his fucking teeth in.”

you’d sigh and grab your man’s hand because you could already feel the bouncers coming over and adding onto the problem

but truth be told you only left for their safety, not toji’s. cuz that nigga will take on three bouncers (and win??) if need be

soooo much more affectionate when he’s drunk

like it’s so weird because you’re usually used to nonchalant & stoic toji (he clearly cares for u but shows it in small gestures like fixing ur car or hugging you tight at night) so his newfound affection was different

drunk toji could not stop touching you

you’d be in the kitchen preparing water and tylenol to give him and he’d be 2 seconds behind you with his hand slipping into your slut shorts (as he’d call them bc ur asscheeks hung out out them—he loved them tho)

before you did let him touch you though, you’d force him to eat two slices of bread in hopes of ‘soaking up the alcohol’ as you’d call it (it really works, idc)

toji would sit there and pout like a six year old in timeout as he’d slowly eat the fresh bread as you stared at him with crossed arms.

when you finally let him touch you, the man knows how to finger you, okay !!

like toji doesn’t even think about his own self pleasure when he’s drunk. he usually never does even sober but when he’d drunk, the only thing on his mind is eating phat ma till you’re crying over him

like his finger rotation movement so far deep in your cunt is absolutely UNMATCHED

if toji didn’t pay attention to your body and its reactions during sex when he was sober, he watched you like a MAGNIFYING GLASS when he fingered/fucked you

he loves watching your fucked out expressions

if drunk toji isn’t being sexual, he’s a lot more talkative if not both

he’d force you to cuddle with him even if its just on the couch and would mutter sweet nothings in your ear late at night

“‘m gonna take such care of you when we get married. more than i do now.”

“you’re so good to me. what i do to deserve you, mama.”

“gonna give you my babies soon. bet you’d like that.”

you’d look down to give into his promises, only to smile when you’d find him fast asleep on your chest.

NEEDY.

brought back to life toji x black reader

warnings: cheating but he offs ur bf so not really?, angst in the beginning, we raised megs with toji, depression in the beginning, this is kinda sad but really cute, no prep just straight sex, reader has locs but it could be whateva u want, overstimulation, soft sex, soft toji, SPOILERS if u haven’t watched the anime.

masterlist

Twelve years.

It’s been that long. Twelve long, agonizing years have passed since you’ve seen Toji. He disappeared on you. Gone. Vanished. One day, he woke you up from a nap and told you he would be gone for a week or so for a job. You understood that his line of work is dangerous. You knew there was a possibility that he could die at any moment.

But he told you not to worry. They were kids, he said.

‘You know me, mama. I don’t die easily.’

He’s a sorcerer killer. He’s strong. It was always apparent to you that he could manage himself. Of course, that never stopped you from worrying.

You began to feel anxious after three weeks. During dinner time, you would cook him meals and fall asleep, hoping that he would come to you stumbling and embrace your body whole as he usually does.

After four weeks, you began to sleep less. The silence in your apartment would haunt you. The sound of every footstep passing by your wooden door and every creak on the floor would make you jump. Imagining that, finally, it would be him who would walk through it. He never did.

After the fifth week, you started calling his boss and friend, but he would never say it out loud. Each time it went to voicemail, you would cry uncontrollably. You may have sent him over one thousand messages, but they all went unanswered. The man probably blocked your number.

You honestly didn’t know what you expected.

Toji tried to keep Shiu and you apart as much as he could. You two were never close. The only thing you had Shiu’s number for was safety purposes, in case you were ever in danger while he was away on the job.

The truth took you five months to accept. To accept that Toji was never going to come back. It took you another three months to come to terms with the fact that Toji was dead.

Throughout all of this, Megumi, his son, gave you comfort. Though it was supposed to be the other way around, you had a feeling he knew what was wrong with you. At times, you couldn’t even get up to cook food and instead chose to order out so he could eat while you lay starving. At the tender age of four, Megumi was skilled in making homemade soup due to your frequent illnesses.

After a year or so, you thought -- you barely left your bed, so you lost track of time, a man came knocking at your door. White hair and bright, bright blue eyes can be seen even with glasses covering his eyes.

You should have fought him, beaten him to a fucking pulp. You’ve always had a keen sense of intuition. You knew he was the one who killed Toji, your Toji. Your gut was screaming that to you.

But what would you be able to do? You had no cursed energy. You couldn’t fight this man even though your husband had taught you some things in his free time. You had no chance against him, and the cocky bastard was aware of that.

He wasn’t here for you anyway. It was obvious to you that when he pushed past you and entered your home, he immediately started to search for Megumi. Knowing that the little boy could see curses, he suspected that his technique was starting to manifest, so he informed him that he could provide assistance.

Hearing the conversation in the kitchen, your breath paused when he mentioned that he would be going to Tokyo. You would be alone, but you refuse to be selfish and force him to watch over you in your depressed state. You urged him to go, urged him to make a change in the world even if it physically pained you.

Megumi made a promise to visit you every year and never leave you. He was truthful to you. Every year, he would spend a week with you, and you would see the boy you helped raise become a capable young man. He would occasionally show you his technique to demonstrate how much he has grown. You couldn’t have been more proud.

It took you 8 years, but you eventually moved on from Toji physically. Your heart still belongs to him emotionally.

Although you never remarried, you did have a boyfriend. He’s a kind man, has a regular corporate job, earns a livable yearly salary, and is not a killer, so there’s no danger of him being murdered. He also treats you nicely, arranging a dinner date every week and a vacation to a nice place every year.

You should’ve been happy. You should love him— why don’t you?

Why is it that every time he fucks you, all you see and think of is Toji? When you respond to his love for you, it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. Because you know it’s not true. You know it would never be true.

Megumi has a liking for him and believes he is a good fit for you. After what you went through, it’s fair to say that you deserve this. Though, it’s easy for him to sense how unhappy you are, that you’re putting on a facade in front of the man you’re supposed to love. If the man really knew you, he would understand that every time you smile and kiss him, it was an effort, especially after being together for almost 3 years.

You’re not sure why you never left him. You think this is better than feeling alone. Even if it wasn’t as good as Toji, you still got fucked every other night. It could never be better than Toji. You think he’s ruined you for anyone else.

October 31st, 2018. 11 a.m.

It’s Wednesday, October 31st, and it’s the week Megumi is supposed to come to see you.

You begin your day as you usually do. Your boyfriend wakes you up with a kiss right before he leaves for work, and you groggily force your body straight to the shower. While the eggs sizzle, you make a light breakfast as you stare into space.

As you’re eating, you feel your stomach drop. There is an odd sensation in your gut, a negative one. You experienced the same feeling when Toji died. You hastily pull out your phone and dial Megumi’s number.

One ring. Two. Three rings and no response.

“..Mom?”

His tone is fatigued as if you had woken him from his sleep. At that, you breathe a sigh of relief. However, the feeling persists.

“Are you okay, Megs?”

He sounds confused, although you suspect he can sense your concern in your voice, “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be? Is something wrong?”

“Do you have a mission today?”

Your frantic questioning without an answer is now causing him anxiety.

“There’s something going on in Shibuya tonight, so yeah.” You don’t answer him for a beat, just breathing as you feel your heart beating faster as his response.

“Are you okay, mo-”

“Please, don’t go. I have a bad feeling again.”

He sighs, “You know I can’t do that. It’s supposed to be something manageable, nothing too ba-”

You sternly cut him off, “Megumi. It’s not going to be manageable, I can feel it.”

“If you’re saying that, then it means I need to go and help even more, Mom.”

You’re trembling, and- Are you crying? You feel the tear slide down your cheek before you can even register it. You have always been afraid of Megumi going out to fight curses, but for some reason, your fear is growing stronger.

Your breath stutters, “What if- what if you-”

The thought of Megumi getting badly injured or even dying is so terrifying that you can’t even finish your sentence. You don’t believe you can endure that. No, you know you can’t. You’re still grieving over your husband. How could you possibly stomach his death?

This time, he cuts you off, “I can’t promise you that I won’t go. But I can promise to stay at a safe distance so I don’t die.”

“You’re so selfless, it’s infuriating.” You chuckle through your tears, using your unoccupied hand to wipe them off.

“I love you too.” You can tell he’s trying to stifle a laugh of his own.

You smile, even though he can’t see you, “I love you so much. Please, don’t die.”

“I’ll make sure to haunt you if I do.”

A gasp, “Megumi!”

“Joking.. sort of.”

He hangs up with another ‘Love you’ before you can scold him. And now you’re forced to swallow the lump in your throat. It’s okay, you remind yourself. You’re gonna be okay. Megumi is gonna be fine. He’ll come see you on Friday like he usually does. But even you’re aware that you’re just trying to console yourself.

The day is spent trying to distract yourself. You had the time to paint your nails and toes, try on some new outfits that you bought last week, and even try reading a book. But the feeling would never go away. In fact, it intensified as the darkness outside increased.

October 31st, 2018. 11 p.m.

Around 11 p.m., your boyfriend arrived and greeted you with his usual kiss on the cheek and casual discussion about both of your days. Every day, you think, today is the day. Today is the day you’ll get a tingling feeling whenever he kisses you. Today is the day you’ll feel warmth whenever he says he missed you or he loved you.

But it never came, and today was no different. You had made some food and decided to leave some for him, he had taken a liking to your cooking.

“I’m gonna head to bed. You’re gonna join me?”

“In a few, I wanna stay up a little longer.” You whisper, absentmindedly watching the plate he’s eating from. You don’t even notice. You’re entirely zoned out.

He kisses the side of your head when he stands up.

He kisses the side of your head when he stands up, “Okay, thanks for the food, babe. Let’s go out to eat tomorrow, yeah?”

“Sure.”

He pulls back hesitantly, hands still on your shoulder as he observes the lost look in your eyes, “Are you okay, babe? You seem.. out of it.”

All he gets is a slow nod and a small kiss on his knuckles. That seems to be enough for him because he hums and whispers a small “Love you.” and walks away.

The sound of the shower running after a few minutes is your cue to clean up. As you scrub the burnt parts of the pasta you made, you hear your phone ringing. When you glance over, it turns out to be Megumi.

11:38 p.m.

‘why the fuck is Dad alive? he just disappeared after helping me with some curse??’

Your hands become completely limp as the plate you are holding drops abruptly and crashes into the wet sink. Your eyes were wide and unblinking as you stood frozen. Your breath is caught in your throat, making it impossible to exhale. Your mind is overflowing with thoughts, each one more anxious than the last.

What?

You haven’t moved a single inch, but your hands are now shaking.

Toji is what?

No. He’s lying. But that’s not true either. Megumi would never deceive you, especially about his dad being alive. Your hands are trembling as you try to reach for your phone, but you’re stopped in your tracks by a loud crash.

You come out of your frozen state, and as if you’re running on autopilot, you run as fast as you can to the sound that hits the cold tile floor. But what you see next almost causes you to burst into tears because there he is, your husband.

Toji is right there, in your room, holding a sharp red wooden blade against your boyfriend’s neck. He’s in a gray sweater, but even then, you can see his muscles and just how big he is through it. He’s not looking at you, but with the way his shoulders raise and his breath hitches— he knows you’re watching.

Hearing him speak brings a tear to your cheek. It’s been a long time since you last heard his voice. The world seemed to stop moving, leaving you in a surreal moment stuck in time. You can’t believe it, you’ve lost all hope, but he is here. Sending the ugliest glare to the man on the other side of the blade in your bedroom is enough to make you shiver,

“Who the hell is this, baby?”

You say nothing, relishing in the sound of him speaking to you. Your heart pounded fiercely, echoing in your ears, while a wave of dizziness threatened to overwhelm you.

It’s when your boyfriend grunts in an angry tone, “What the fuck is happening, (❤︎)?!” You finally snap out of your stupor.

It’s not a surprise you stutter when you speak, but you don’t even say much. You pitifully let out a squeak of,

“T-Toji?”

You want him to look at you, want him to see you. You want to make sure that it’s really him you’re looking at, but he seems so focused and upset? Your eyes move away from his face briefly to take a glance at the weapon threatening to penetrate your boyfriend’s neck.

You speak so lowly, almost as if you’re ashamed to admit your following words, “My boyfriend. He’s my boyfriend.”

Despite boarding on the brink of death, he still manages to harbor a false confidence when you say that, “Exactly, man, so, who the fuck are you?”

“Her husband.”

At that, your boyfriend chokes, and now his anger is directed towards you, “Husband? You’re married?! We’ve been together for 3 years, and you-”

“He was dead!” You suddenly find your voice, a bit hysterically. You turn to Toji, who still isn’t looking at you but presses harder into his neck. You can see a trickle of blood start to drip. “You were dead- You are dead.”

His response is cold, blunt, “I’m about to kill the bastard standing half naked in my wife’s house, so, no. I’m very much alive, mama.”

“How? How are you alive?”

“Long story.” Is all he utters.

“I’ve waited 12 fucking years, I’m sure you can spare me a little more time.”

At that, he has the audacity to sigh as if you’re the one being difficult. You jump back and yelp when he suddenly plunges the weapon into your boyfriend- ex’s neck. You open your mouth, about to ask him what the hell that was for, but he answers before you can, “Unwanted company.”

When he finally turns his head to look at you, you swear he’s more beautiful than you remember. Everything looks the same, but something’s off. His eyes were blackish, or maybe it was a deep purple color in his sclera— that was supposed to be white, wasn’t it? His pupils are purple, too, or was it blue? You’re not sure, but you don’t find him any less beautiful.

“Toji.. I- how?”

He grumbles, and in one blink, he’s in front of you, hands on your waist and lips immediately logged deep in your neck, not quite sucking but just breathing you in. The action makes you shiver, and the feeling of him so close to you causes more tears to fall. “Some old hag did a seance. Wanted me to kill all sorcerers.”

Your breath hitches, but you sternly reply, “Our son is a sorcerer.”

“Obviously, I’m not going to.”

He smiles at the fact that you said ‘Our.’ He can feel the tears on your neck, and he honestly feels he might drop some of his own. Twelve years in hell—because let’s be real, there was no way someone of his caliber was making it to heaven— and he hasn’t seen you. Hasn’t touched you. He’d rather kill you than not fuck you again- he’d have to force himself to do so.

He’s not ashamed to admit he missed you. He feels guilty for putting you through this, through twelve years with him. He said he was coming back, he couldn’t imagine your despair when he didn’t. He hates himself for causing you that pain, for pushing you into the arms of another man.

He muffled out, “D’ya love him?”

It takes you a minute to answer, you feel a bit ashamed to admit this since he just died, “Never did. I only ever loved you.”

“Loved? You don’t love me anymore?”

You break out another sob, “I never stopped Toji.”

This time, he doesn’t answer, but there’s a nagging question in the back of his mind that he needs answered, “Three years, hm? You fuck him?” Your next words give him the answer he needs.

“Toji- it’s been years! You were-”

“Dead, I know. You didn’t look too sad when he died. He could never fuck you like me, huh?”

He knows he shouldn’t be upset. He knows he has no right to be angry at you. You had every right to move on. He didn’t ghost you or just disappear casually. He was dead. The thought never sat well with him, though. It made his stomach churn. He always told you that if you ever cheated on him, he would kill the man and then himself. He could never bring himself to hurt you physically.

But is it even cheating if he was dead?

A whisper breaks him out of his thoughts, “No.”

What an angel you are. Answering him even when he isn’t even speaking out loud. His mind is confused. So he does what he used to do when he needs to let out his frustrations— use your body as a stress reliever.

When his hands grope your hips, you let out a desperate moan. Fuck you are desperate, you haven’t felt your lover in years.

“Damn- I missed you, baby. Missed how soft you are, missed holding you.” His tongue starts slowly, lapping softly at your collarbone.

Your breath starts getting shaky, and the slick that’s been forming since you first laid eyes on him is dripping down your thighs, “Missed you so much more.”

He’s not in the mood to wait. He’d usually tease you before he impaled you on his dick. But it’s been too long since he felt any warmth from you- he’s not stalling any longer.

“Need to fuck you, now. You remember how to take me, right?”

He was quick with his hands, ripping the nightgown you had on to shreds. You’re bare in front of his gaze, and you can see how he was practically drooling— the man was in a trance.

If Toji is as big as you remember, then taking him would be a challenge. You could never do it without some form of prep, be it him eating you out until you cried or fingering you till your legs trembled. Sometimes it was both. But you could tell he wasn’t in the mood to do either of those right now. He just wanted to stuff you, so you’d have to suck it up and let him.

You give him a shaky nod, “Yes, please.”

He lazily rubs on your engorged bud, spreading your slick all over your fat pussy lips. He releases the most toe-curling moan when he feels how wet you are, and it’s all for him. He doesn’t keep the act up for long and dips two fingers inside. They stretch you so wide you can’t help but buck your hips against the wall he has you pressed on.

“Hnng- Toji! Just put it in, p-please.”

He grunts, but he can never argue against you. Toji forces his tip past your tight walls, and you have to hiss it out. You’re wet enough that the first inch slides in easily, but you’re so tight that he thinks you’re about to squeeze his tip right off.

He groans out, seemingly more out of breath than you are, “Relax, mama. Breathe before you break my dick off.”

“M’trying!” Is your only response. More tears are dripping down your face, both from the pain and how close you are to him.

Toji decides to distract you by rubbing tight circles on your clit, and that causes your breath to stutter and your moans to increase in volume. That does the trick because as you’re focused on the pleasure, he doesn’t hesitate to shove everything into you in one go. All nine inches- but shit, you swear it feels bigger.

“Oh god! It’s too much- I can’t-”

“God took me away from you. Made us spend twelve years apart. It’s not God making you feel this way, it’s me. Focus on me.”

You’re nodding before he can even finish his sentence because he’s right. Toji gives you a few seconds- maybe 30 before his patience runs around, and he starts slowly rutting in you. He knows how big he is. Takes pride in it, too. So, he doesn’t stop rubbing your clit to ease the feeling of him stretching you out.

As he instructs, all your focus is on him. Your hazy eyes focus on his face, his brows furrowed in pleasure, and his lips parted as he pants against you. You can’t help but kiss him, suck his chapped pink lips so hard you can feel his scar against your tongue. And he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back. It isn’t a fight for dominance, Toji easily takes all control of you, and you surrender with no regrets.

You take his cock beautifully, so well. Every time he pushes out, your pussy just pulls him back in, making a wet squelch sound when his hips slap against yours. He can feel the goosebumps on your body whenever his tip presses harshly on your g-spot, and so he keeps the same pace and stroke— determined to make you cum just like this.

You wail out as your eyes roll into the back of your head, “Oh! Right there, don’t s-stop!”

“Never. Won’t ever stop fucking you, baby. Need you to forgive me anyway.”

“For l-leaving me?”

He chuckles against your puffy lips and pulls harshly on your brown locs so your neck cranes to look directly at him, “Yes, mama. I’m sorry for leaving you, for leaving our son. So sorry. Won’t ever do it again, I promise.”

You’re crying again. Tears are flowing freely now, and Toji thinks you’re beautiful and even ethereal. He glances down, and a creamy white paste forms at the base of his cock- getting even more wet each time he pulls out of you.

“I c-cried so much, Toji. For months, for years. You- you-”

“Shh. I know, baby. I know. I’m selfish for doing that, a complete asshole. I’d hate me too.”

You’re nodding, but you could never think of him as such. You would never call Toji anything mean, anything harsh- despite what he put you through.

Your pussy is twitching against him, “Don’t hate you. Could never h-hate you.”

He kisses your lips, all over your face, really, “Yeah? Damn, I love you. You love me?”

“Yes! Yes- I love you. Only you.”

He moans and presses against your stomach, his bulge poking out. Your breaths come in ragged gasps, your body tightening as a wave of pleasure builds inside of you. Your muscles clenched, and an uncontainable rush surged through you. Fuck, you’re gonna come.

Toji can feel it, and his slow pace speeds up. He whispers in your ear, pulling at your lobe, “Cum, baby. Go ahead, I need it.”

Finally, with a shuddering cry, you tipped over the edge. Ecstasy washed over you in powerful, pulsing waves. Your body trembled a blissful release, leaving you breathless and utterly spent. Despite your haze, Toji doesn’t stop, nor do you feel his thick cum flowing past your walls.

He can sense the confusion in you, and all he does to ease your mind is, “3 years, right? How about 3 orgasms for every year I wasn’t with you, huh? Think we can reach 36, mama?”

Your eyes widen in disbelief because that doesn’t even sound possible, but you’re distracted by another toe-curling orgasm ripping through you- your clit pulsing in overstimulation. As always, he knows what you’re thinking, but he doesn’t seem to be backing down with his next words.

“Yeah, I think we can.”

Lorrrd forgive me for I have sinned

🥵🥵🥵

I never wanted to be a homewrecker so bad!!

“come’on sweetpea, tell daddy all about it.” this was you first time getting to fuck the big dick toji; and unsurprisingly he lived up to the hype. “a-as he fucked hermmm w-walls, h-his fingers rubbeddd her c-cli— tojiiii!!” you were really trying! you really really were, but he was so deep. cock all the way in your tummy. he bounced you on him effortlessly, basking in the stage lights and gazing eyes. toji knew how to please a women. you wanted to throw the book, throw it and let yourself go. enjoy the good dick - but sadly that just wasn’t an option.

“such a cock slut hm?” he whispered your ear- only for you. “like havin another woman husbands fuck.you.” you pumped into you hard as he said fuck you. no words could fall from your lips, your orgasms right there, your hand gripping the book tight as you threw your head back. “t-there! m’thereee” you whined! no faking in sight, you more into it than usual and fuck- you could give a fuck less if they knew you were actually cumming. “like havin my wife watch you get good dick?” your mouth salivated at his dirty talk. your hole clenching against the thick cock, cream dripping onto the condom; then you were stopped. “cut!” you wanted to burst into tears, your vision going blurry as his pumps stopped, toji letting your legs go but not making an effort to move.

you could hear people moving around you, closing your eyes as you continued to clench against him. “you both did good!” the director walked up to you both. “this was great! whenever you’re ready you can get up” she gave you a smile, then leaned down, and kissed her husband then walked away making you shiver. you felt a tingle of guilt. guilt of enjoying it, wanting more, almost cumming for her husband. “good pussy” toji mumbled rubbing his hands against your thighs once he saw she was out of sight. “one day im gonna make you cum pretty” he kissed your cheek raising you off of him, him and all of his glory in the viewing of everyone around.

“w-what about your wife?” you said stunned, pussy sore and throbbing. “what about her?” he chuckled. “she knew what came with having a husband who’s a pornstar doll,” and with that he walked away, making you crave more.

🙊🙊🙈

stepdad!toji can't get you out of his head; black!reader

☠︎︎ 18+ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 ☠︎︎

𝐂𝐖: stepcest, fauxcest, toji thinks of reader while he's fucking his wife

ɴɪᴄᴋɪᴇ's ɴᴏᴛᴇs- this is part 2 to this fic; after getting over my initial apprehension at posting the first part of this i got more confident and just kept writing. daddy toji makes my brain melt fr

after that, he can't get you out of his head.

toji is trying to be a better man than he'd been. a man worthy of a woman like his wife. a man worthy of your mother. but fuck, you make it hard for him. pun intended and not.

your wide eyes that always look up at him in either awe, surprise or affection. your full lips that are either always pouting or smiling at him. your little hands that are always entwined with his whenever you two go out - you always cuddle extra close to him when you leave the house and he can't help the ego boost he feels that you trust him to protect you - and then of course there's the rest of it.

your fat ass tits that bounce whenever you run to greet him when he gets home.

(you've taken to practically jumping him now: throwing your arms and legs around him, pressed up all tight against him and he loves it so much. will drop his bags at his feet just to sweep you into his arms holding your thick thighs in each hand and watch as you preen at his affection. your arms will be around his neck and you'll giggle "welcome home, daddy. i missed you." you'll then kiss his cheeks, one after the other and he'll feel like the luckiest bastard in the world.)

your devilish hips that seem to swing even more these days. and god that fucking ass of yours. you've taken up yoga in the living room each saturday and sunday, coincidentally the same time he'll be in the kitchen reading the newspaper. he'll sit in the kitchen, chair perfectly angled so that he can watch the way that perfect round backside of yours presents when you bend down. sometimes your legs spread open a bit and he'll see much more than your ass.

and when that happens, he'll utter a soft curse in japanese, put his paper down and retreat to the master bathroom to jack his dick stupid to the sight and thought of you.

and when he's done, he'll talk himself down, remind himself that it was a momentary lapse in judgement.

sex with his wife is near on animalistic. he'll fuck her crazy in their bed, legs thrown over his shoulders, hand around her throat just to fight off the almost ridiculous sexual tension bubbling within him each passing day. spitting in her mouth, slapping her cheeks, then turning her over and pulling her hair. god, he's rough. he's got her gripping the sheets, throwing her ass back in tandem because while she doesn't know what's gotten into him, she loves it. and fuck, that's just perfect.

and if the real reason he turns her over is so he doesn't have to see her face, so what? and if he closes his eyes just a bit so his vision will blur just so, so that the brown limbs flailing akimbo won't have as much definition in his head, just so he can imagine that it's you he's fucking, so what?

𝙄𝙍𝙍𝙀𝙋𝙇𝘼𝘾𝙀𝘼𝘽𝙇𝙀

Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Summary: Toji is intent on ruining every other man for you

Warnings: Language, Toxic Relationship, fwb, Age Gap, Minor Gaslighting, Jealousy, Slight Angst, Coercion, Manipulation, Manhandling, Possessiveness, PDA, Threats, Smut (+18) Minors DNI, DUB/CON, Grinding, Forced Orgasm, Rough Sex, Toji Filming You, Video Sex?, Humiliation Kink, Exhibition Kink, Massive Degradation Kink, Neediness, Mutual Masturbation, Humping, Spitting, Breeding Kink, Daddy Kink, DDLG, Massive Praise Kink, Threats, Slight CNC, Extreme Humiliation, Forced Breeding

A/N: Please proceed with caution, I beg

Perhaps your first mistake is assuming you could open his message, glance over it with hooded, glossy eyes, and swipe out, with the blatant intention of ignoring him.

Toji is rarely someone who fancies wasting time. He types like the old man he is, with messages devoid of emoji's or textual abbreviations.

He had simply and succinctly written:

I miss your face.

His message is unambiguous with the expectation that you are now supposed to drop every commitment you might harbour on this thunderous Thursday night to accommodate him and his nighttime hard-on that probably hit him in a slump of boredom.

It irritated you to imagine how secondary you always seem to be in his mind's eye. It pissed you off to think that his words when he fucked you, his blatant degrdation, may hold a sliver of truth. Perhaps you really were just a sex toy he only makes use of when he wishes for a break from the rest of the world and its obligations. That piercing thought that he used you accommodate all his kinks, while he continuously failed to claim you amongst his associates... it broke you. It left you feeling cheap and ragged and worthless and-

another message peaks over your home screen:

I know you're seeing this. Tell him to fuck off.

"Everything okay?" Your head snaps up from your phone, immediately meeting the eyes of the man you had just kissed under the awning of your Townhouse patio. His warm eyes which had stayed warm throughout the duration of your date are now hooded in concern.

"Everything's perfectly fine," You attempt to reassure your coworker who had just taken you on a fantastic date. There is an inflection in your voice which you quickly attempt to clear, "Just a message from one of my students-"

You're interrupted by another incoming notification which you instinctively check.

I miss your cunt. Need to see you touch yourself.

Swiping out of that particular message had been significantly more difficult, and it took all your willpower to ignore the slew of notifications.

"My kids tend to send messages outside office hours too," your date soldiers on, bending his tall frame hoping to draw your attention once again. "It's like they don't understand the concept of school time and downtime. Teachers have lives too,"

Your eyes narrow infinitesimally at the strain in his voice when he says, "I like seeing you in academic work mode, though. It's hot." You immediately notice his words as a veneer to mask the irritation at having your date interrupted by your notifications. All that hangs between you two now is the rites of passage one is expected to complete at the end of every date.

'Ask me up' his eyes practically pleaded, as you noticed him send tiny glances at your front door, 'Ask me up and let's get this over with',

And perhaps, maybe you would have invited him up. Lord knows your own arousal had been building with the steady stream of Toji's messages, one more quick glance revealed the final message:

Do you honestly imagine yourself calling that puny little thing, Daddy?

A shuddering breath leaves your throat as a million questions bombard a million other statements racing through your mind. Questions of how the fuck Toji knew you were on a date were overshadowed by the realization that you are going to sleep with this stranger tonight. You are going to find a new anchor and a brand new distraction.

"Would you like to stay for a drink-" You asked, or would have asked, had it not been for the sheer shock at having your own door open behind you. You spin around, utterly speechless as you and your date both watch Toji answer your door.

"She doesn't drink," He says, leaning his bare, muscled shoulder against your doorframe, the rest of him is clad in his sweatpants, the drawstring left lazily to hang, "So finding any beverage alcoholic enough for her to negate the fact that you're not going to make her cum, will be quite the feat." Your coworker bristles at Toji's remark, but you're corralled into silence. It is as if your brain can not comprehend what your eyes are seeing in front of you. Your voice is dwindling as you attempt to ask,

"Where did you… How the hell did you get my keys?" But Toji disregards you as easily as he has been doing for the duration of your relationship. Arousal be damned, all you allow yourself to feel in this very moment is red, white, and hot, anger.

It is so easy for him to look past you, so easy for him to pretend you're not there when his cock isn't forcing you to take his cum. The anger pulsates through you, straining your tear ducts. If it weren't for his sudden, inexplicable movements you probably would have cursed him out with tears streaking your face.

With his eyes still on your date, Toji pulls your limp body against him. He dips his head to splay a calloused kiss at the side of your head before letting his hands drift over the curvy outlines of your body. He rubs you soothingly, in a way he knows would get you into a compliant, likely sated state as he pushes your head onto his bare chest.

"You're still standing here?" His head tilts as he stares down your date; a scarred lip curling at the end. "Would you like to watch?" By this point, you're so deep into detangling your own conflicting emotions that you're not even sure who Toji is speaking to. What you are aware of is his bulge rubbing against you from behind. His grip on your hips are concrete as he looks at the now utterly angered man, "I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to," Toji's lips graze your ear, "She does enjoy putting on a show,"

You're utterly horrified that his words and raucous display have your colleague lumbering away from your doorstep and racing to his car, never looking back.

"That is an utter shame. I think he would've liked to see how needy you get when you wanna cum-" But you've finally gained enough sensibility to push him away from you. Your heart is beating loud in your ear as you push past him and into your living room.

"Where is it,"

"My dick? It's in my pants and it wants your attention-"

"Your shirt!" Your voice thunders up into the rafters of your living room's ceiling, likely in vicious combat with the thunder groaning outside. "You're going to get your shirt and you're going to leave my house and you will then proceed to leave my fucking life!" You're pushing over cushions and decorative pillows as you search frantically for Toji's shirt, "Give me my fucking house keys and leave me the fuck alone, Toji, I'm serious!"

In the tempest of your movements, frizzy hair wild from your outburst and your manic movements, you are utterly seething to find him directly behind you. His head, dipping into the nape of your neck, deposits a row of kisses as he pushes himself up against you.

"I really need to fuck you." He says, completely reducing your earlier words into nothingness, "I need to hear you make those needy little whimpers of yours and I need you to call me Daddy, okay? I need you to tell Daddy you want him to make you a Mommy," He is utterly delirious as he fists your breasts over your buttoned shirt and thrust his hips into your backside. He is deluded by his own fantasies, guided by his own arousal with little to no thought for your own feelings. You hated that his desires flowed parallel to yours. You hated that you wanted exactly what he wanted. You hated that your panties were already steadily getting soaked at just the thought of him needing you so much he started humping lazily into your ass. "Daddy needs you to take care of him, hm? Can you do that, pretty girl?"

Your voice is barely above a whisper when you speak, afraid that it might bleed into a horrendous moan, "When have you ever taken care of me, Toji? You fucking humiliated me-" He spins you around until your chest is facing him. You fight to evade the sight of his cock straining against his grey sweatpants as you stare blankly up at him.

"You like it," Toji says, bringing a hand up to cup the side of your cheek, "And I like that you like it." And perhaps, maybe a sick, emotionally damaged part of you did enjoy it when he made you suffer a little. His words bring revelation, as you think back to seconds ago, how him touching you - disrespecting you in front of your coworker brought on a heightened state of arousal.

"Make yourself cum." He commands as he hurriedly undoes the buttons of your blouse. You quickly notice that his patience has finally cracked, and a vexed scowl now dances on Toji's face as he discards your blouse on the floor, "No more questions. Make yourself fucking cum-" He growls, as he forces you down onto your couch with a hand gripping your scalp and another, pulling a wayward pillow in front of you.

"Make yourself cum because when I touch you, your pleasure is going to be the least of my fucking concerns."

You eye the pillow with slight trepidation while Toji eyes you from above. His hand is still firmly placed on top of your head, lightly craning it backwards to see every emotion running through your face.

"Keep the skirt on," He orders, and watches with hungry eyes as you slowly take off your underwear and mount the cushion in front of you.

"Give me your phone," he is already grabbing at your device, fumbling for the camera.

"Toji, please-"

"It's Toji, now!?" He asks, laughing breathlessly as he presses record and pushes the camera into your face, "Who the fuck is Toji to you?"

Your eyes snap shut, hoping to get away from the invading insectile lense or fresh coat of arousal betweenyour thighs. Your mind is utterly fried by the stimulation you're getting from every output. Your hips have started languidly moving against the pillow, feeling pathetically satiated by the friction against your soaked little clit,

"Look at you- Fuck!" Toji removes his hand on your head to lightly paw at the bulge so deliriously close to your face, "Look at what a fucking slut you are! Do your little work friends know how stupid you get when you're on the verge of cumming-"

"Toji-"

"I said who the fuck is Toji to you!?" The sheer and utter cruelty in his tone has you humping the pillow faster, while you clumsily raise a hand to paw at your breasts. Unable to keep his composure any longer, Toji's hand descends into his sweatpants as he begins to stroke his aching dick in unison with your hips. You watch with hooded, fucked out eyes. Your pillowy lips pull in between your teeth as a pornographic moan bubbles from within your chest.

You decide to give in. "P-Please Daddy, Please fuck me- I fucking need you to cum inside me- p-please-" You're unable to stop, feeling your wetness spread along the pillow, as you watch him stroke intently, "Fuck me- I need you to fuck me, fuck me please, Daddy-" You're utterly breathless, repeating your words like a wanton, desperate whore, "Please… Daddy," you continue to whisper, "Daddy,"

"Fuck-you look so fucking sexy, baby," He doesn't know whether to look at the video of your hips moving greedily against the pillow, or to watch the real thing: your hips making a web of sticky trails of arousal on the couch.

"Apologise to Daddy, like a good girl," He really wants to fuck you but his own pride, the curse of his averous stands in his way, "Tell Daddy you're sorry for being a foolish little whore. Tell him you'll never ignore a message from him ever again-" your shoulders flinch at the sound of your phone being discarded on the floor but still, your hips are unrelenting as you say, "I'm sorry, Daddy, I'm so sorry." Drool drips from the side of your mouth, falling along your exposed breasts, which Toji squeezes recklessly. "Never! I'll never ignore another message from you ever, ever, ever," you're operating on autopilot, as you watch him release his cock from inside his sweatpants, his fingers prod and twist at your nipple.

"I miss your mouth," He utters drunkenly as he bends down, "Kiss me," And you obey as you rise to meet his lips. The soft roughness of Toji's lips only has your hips humping desperately against the pillow once more, his tongue forcing its way inside until you're both kissing with lewdity and ferocity. "Fucking slut-" he says, pulling back to push you backwards,

"My horny humping girl is so ready for Daddy to fuck her isn't she?" You're completely flooded with anticipation, it flows through your arteries, alerting every part of your brain. You feel as though you're about to taste euphoria as Toji roughly pulls your hips to the edge of the couch, lifting it to meet his cock which he hurriedly slams into you.

He fucks you, hard and rough and as needy as you feel- hovering above you so every stroke has his pelvis pushing against your clit as you fucks you into your own couch.

"You thought you could just fucking get away from me, hm?" There's a heavy condescending tone in his voice, one that has you arching your back with your lips pulled between your teeth. You're striving to get away from his harsh thrusts because the pleasure is way too much . It's all bubbling inside you, threatening to spill out everywhere and anywhere.

"I fucking told you, didn't I!?" Droplets of water fall from his hair as he watches you so intensely. You think you might cum on the spot, "Daddy fucking told you that you can't ever say no to him- you can't ever tell him to stop- Stop fucking moving!" But your movements have him more turned on than you'd initially thought, allowing him to use the advantage of his brawn, to lock you down with his iron grip at your hips. You're trapped on the couch underneath him, as he continues to fuck you like you don't exist,

"If you keep moving like that- fuck! If you keeping fucking trying to get away Daddy will have no choice but to cum inside you," Your legs tingle with the nearness of your euphoria, it only expands as he brings his lips directly onto of yours as he mutters, "Daddy's going to cum inside you, okay? Maybe that's what you need to realise you can't talk to other men? Maybe getting you fucking pregant will make sure you'll stop being a fucking slut-"

His cock is shallow and relentless inside your soaked, gummy walls, it pushes against everything it can find and is utterly relentless on that one sensitive bundle of nerves that only he seems to be able to find.

"Are you going to cum!?" He asks, "Because I'm so fucking close baby- I want you to cum with Daddy, okay? Be a good girl for once in your fucking life-"

"FUCK-" You're a screaming, wet mess as you cum so violently, it disrupts the flow of your entire body, "Thats it… Gonna get you pregnant- oh fuck-" he exclaims, his white hot seed exploding inside of you, prolonging the overwhelming sensation of your own orgasm. It completely takes over your mind - feeling so completely full of him. Toji's hips lightly shudder as he attempts to milk as much of himself up inside of you, before pulling away. He is utterly mesmerised by the sticky, white cum oozing out of your puffy vagina. He watches, transfixed, as he brings his fingers up to slide as much of his cum inside you but it all comes sliding back.

"What are you," You're barely able to find your voice, "What are you doi-"

But he already has you upside down. His muscles flex he holds you carefully by your hips, with your head grazing the carpet. You recognize the movement as a relic of the old wives' tale. The second his cum is swimming inside you, you need to lay upside down to help it along.

No scientific evidence that this guarantees any sort of pregnancy, of course, but Toji strikes you as the superstitious type.

"Making sure the job's done." He says, "You think I was kidding about getting you pregnant?"

I can explain...

OFFICE RELATIONS

FT. TOJI FUSHIGURO

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ PAIRINGS: Pervert Assisstant!Toji Fushiguro x CEO!Fem reader

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ CW: Perverted themes, non-con use of photography, office sex, a lot of teasing, fingering, begging, finger sucking, creampie

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ WORD COUNT: 4K+

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ FROM CHRIS: I really like this :)). Well, let me …long story short, someone had left me a little message in my taglist on how my pics could be longer. I couldn’t have agreed more so…yeah, pls enjoy bc I loved writing this

Keep reading

RAHHHHHH UGJ

I HATE SLEEPING ALONE, toji fushiguro

he hates your guts but he always calls you to warm his bed

“keep talking shit and watch how quick i kick you off this bed,” toji regretted even calling you now. it’s like every time he saw you, you always found a new way to piss him off. “oh don’t act like that! you the one always calling me over cause you can’t fall asleep without me..”

it was taking everything in him to not literally shoving you off the bed like he wanted to. luckily for you, he had a lot of self restraint. “ight, ill just start calling someone else then. since its such-“

“toji stop fucking playing with me, seriously. just go to bed cause you done already made me mad.” you moved away from him with no hesitation, he should honestly be happy you didn’t just leave him and go back home.

he chuckled lowly when he realized he struck a nerve, you were jealous. “im just playin’ princess, stop actin’ like that..” he grabbed your waist, pushing your body closer to his.

neither of you were ready to confess your love for each other just yet, but you both established that being with anyone else romantically was a dead end.

toji wouldn’t allow it, said something under the lines of ‘let me catch you entertaining any other dudes and y’all both dead, understood?’

not that you were planning to do that anyways, toji was the only one you wanted and it would stay that way.

“shit wasn’t funny toji, i almost slapped the fuck outta’ you,” the last thing you wanted was to find out he was talking to other girls, that’d just make you look like a complete idiot.

“daddy’s sorry baby, come gimmie kiss.”

part 1 just hit 7k notes what the fuckkk here’s part 2 cuz you all deserve it, i luv u !!! honeymoon next? 😏

mr. and mrs. fushiguro ii, toji fushiguro

you couldn’t believe this was happening. your nerves flooded your body as you paced back and forth in the back room of the alter. your mother and friends had all gone to their places either to the front or in the audience, leaving you alone until it was time for you to walk.

you heard a knock on the door and you opened it to see your son, megumi. you’d known him since he was a baby; just barely a month old, so if anything, he was in fact your son. his eyes widen at the sight of your differentiated figure. the green fit you so well; it somehow made your skin glow the brightest it’d ever been. you didn’t go with a veil; you didn’t really want anything covering your face and messing up your lashes (yes it was that serious, you paid nearly $300 for them bitches).

“oka, they’re ready—wow,” the young boy breathed out. “you look great, oka-san,” he compliment. “dad’ll be so happy.”

“i hope so,” you gave him a warm smile. “come here, gumi.” megumi follows your waving hand and engulfs you in a hug. “i’m so glad you’re giving me away.”

“i’m glad you asked me.” the young boy blushed and shrugged confidently. “to be fair, i had you first.”

“i know, and i’ll always be yours,” you reassure your son. “i’ll do anything for you, megumi, do you know that?” megumi nods his head. he didn’t want to mention it aloud, but he had feelings that you cared for him more than his own father did, and you weren’t even a share of his blood. “thank you for inviting me into your family.”

“you were always my family, oka-san.”

the alter music finally began to play as you left the room. right behind the big double doors was the gateway to your new life. no longer as y/n y/l/n, but instead, y/n fushiguro; the woman you’d wanted to be for newly fifteen years.

megumi looks at you with playful eyes. “sure you not getting cold feet? you can always turn around and run, i’ll tell him i lost you,” he joked, causing you to let out a whole hearted laugh.

“we’re about ten years too late, ‘gumi. i’m ready, my love.”

megumi smiled at you before looping his arm through yours. opening the double doors, at the sight of you walking in, everyone in the room stood up and toji’s eyes immediately flew to you. the love and adoration in his eyes never went unnoticed as he stared at you as if you were a mile away.

you couldn’t help but wince at the small sound of between your legs squeaking full of toji’s cum. you wish you’d had enough time to shower again, but with a nap after very exhausting sex (the best of your life), and barely two hours left to get ready, you knew it was impossible.

besides, toji found it amusing that you were bound to be knocked up by the end of your vows. you two had already shared your own private vows to one another during a private ceremony with just the two of you the day before but decided to draft up a more watered down—appropriate—version for your friends and family to hear.

megumi slwoly walked you down the carpeted aisle as your eyes silently greeted those around you. but after finishing its tour and circling their way up to the front, your eyes instantly gravitated to your husband. a wide smile falls upon your face, and an even wider one mirrors his, the deep scar on his top lip shifting upward.

by the time you stood in front of toji, he immediately grabbed the frills of your hands. you began to zone out what the priest was saying, your eyes only focused on toji and what the future of your marriage would bring. you weren’t bought back to reality until your mother hissed at you, “pay attention, girl!”

toji and the audience let out a small laugh as you jump back to attention, giggling lightly. “i’m sorry,” you apologized. “i was just thinking about how much i love you.” your words send the crowd into low fits of ‘aww’s.

toji tries to hide it with a bow of his head, but you dont miss the way his pale cheeks turn a bright flush of red. you “toji fushiguro, i’ve known you for a long time,” you mutter only so you and him could hear, causing him to let out a low chuckle. “you have been there for me just as much as anyone in this very room, but have provided the guidance i never knew i lacked or needed until i met you. you teach me the wonders of the world, things i didn’t know even mattered or existed before. you love me like i was made for you, and, i guess in this life time and every single one after that, i am. toji fushiguro, you’ve made me the happiest woman on earth and i don’t think you fully understand that. i promise to love you until the end of our days, in sickness, health, and everything between besides infidelity,” you make a funny face, causing everyone to chuckle. “i will rob you, set your house on fire and kill you if you ever dare decide to be unfaithful to me in any sort of way. i mean it, fushiguro-san. from this day forward i give you my body, heart and soul, for eternity. i hope you choose wisely on what to do it. cuz this thing don’t come back round a second time okay?”

your friends cheer you on in unison as you can’t help but shake your body playfully. toji chuckles heavily, knowing that you meant full weapon behind your words.

“y/n y/l/n,” toji breathes out. his voice was naturally low and monotonous, so you were sure his words were mostly meant for only you to hear (he was a bit rude like that). “i don’t love you because you do things for me. not because you do things megumi. i don’t love you because anything you do is for my benefit; i love you because you’ve changed my character. you’ve changed my mindset on a lot of things i wasn’t taught as a child, from fatherhood to something as simple as what life is and what it’s really supposed to be. you’re the best mother anyone can ever ask for. you lived megumi before you loved me, and i knew i loved you from that point on. you’re the best woman i’ve ever known. your character, your judgement, and your persona are all the best blessing me or anyone in this damned world could ever ask for. we don’t deserve you,”

“mhm, we sure don’t,” your mother pursed her lips with a sassy nod of her head as she waved her paper fan like she was in church.

“amen,” your cousins agreed in unison. you turn and give them a small smile, followed by a giggle. toji’s thumb discretely rubbed the sides of your palms and you knew he was anxious.

“i watch you light up dark rooms with your luminescent light, and you’ve lit plenty of mine, much more than i can count. i know that when i’m not on my A game, you always are. i make sure that even if you’re not having the best of days, you know that you have a space in our home. in our family; in me. you make me excited for things in the future i’ve never even considered before. more kids, building a journey with you in this shitpile we call life—shit—sorry ma.” toji smirks as your mother scolds him from her seat. she rolls his eyes and motions for him to continue.

“i promise to be faithful to you for the rest of my days. i will never love another woman like you, nor will i ever think about doing so. i promise to your light on your dark days as you are mine. i promise to be patient with you, to guide you in whatever way you need help in. i promise to be the best man i could be worthy of your love, y/n y/l/n,” your eyes can’t help but tear up at his words, feeling your hands sweat in nervousness. “i can’t wait to marry you, though you’ve been my wife for a very long time already. i can’t wait for us to continue to do things together and work as a team, as mr. and mrs. fushiguro,” toji smiled at you, signaling that he was done with his speech. “y/n y/l/n, i can’t wait to make you my fucking wife.”

“and with that, toji fushiguro, you may—“

the man didn’t even allow the priest time to finish his solemnization before he already pulled you into his arms and smashed his lips onto you.

Love,love, loooove this series. The girlies was mad about the ending though lmaooooo

WRITTEN OFF.

synopsis: yeah, so you and toji didn’t work out as husband and wife. at least you got a daughter and bonus son out of a shitty marriage.

⚠️exhusband!toji, reader and toji are divorced, mentions of cheating, underage drug consumption (briefly mentioned, not detailed in any way).

kio’s notes - this got longer than expected soo here’s pt. 1. :)

now playing:

⊱ ──────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.}──────── ⊰

“what’s her name?”

the question fell on deaf ears as you stared at the giant man in the hospital chair. engulfed in his big arms was your newborn daughter, wrapped in a blanket and fast asleep against her father’s naked torso.

you were too tired to speak, curled into the fetal position on your side and looking at toji holding your baby girl from inbetween the bars on the side of the hospital bed. the same bars that toji told you to squeeze when you were pushing, but you opted for his hand instead. there was something that satisfied you about his fingers cracking under your clutch. his winces and gasps just as audible as your screams.

toji looked at you through his onyx colored tresses. “y/n,” he called for you, bringing your eyes back to his own, focusing on him now. “what is her name?”

“rin. rin (l/n)-fushiguro.” you smiled at your daughter, who looked like an angel against her father. she was a big, healthy baby, coming in at 9lbs and 4oz, almost at 65 cm. she had brown eyes, witch dark chocolate little swirls of curls atop her head. her skin was cinnamon, with the tiniest of beauty marks scattered across her face.

toji felt a twang in his chest at the hyphenated last name. it felt like your own little twisted way of reminding him you and him no longer shared the same last name. you were no longer mr. and mrs. fushiguro. you were (y/n)(l/n), and he was toji fushiguro—your dishonorable ex-husband.

“couldn’t just have one last name, huh?” his tone was snarky, and he intended to make you feel bad for choosing to hyphenate your daughter’s last name….but you didn’t.

you shrugged, puffing out your cheeks to appear bored with the conversation, “well she was honestly just going to have my last name, but megs was excited to have a sibling and i couldn’t do that to him.” you cared nothing about toji and his feelings towards the hyphen. you gave two shits whether or not he was upset about rin looking more like you than him.

as far as you were concerned, toji fushiguro was no longer an active character in your life story. he was written off—he wrote himself off, when he cheated on you. when he lied to you…and when he made you spend the better half of your pregnancy alone.

so after rin’s birth, you denied toji all access to you. unless it had to do with rin, he couldn’t contact you. this stipulation worked…at first, about six months of proper coparenting and effective communication.

then one night, there’s a call on your phone at 3 in the morning.

“hello?” you answer groggily. rin had gone to toji’s for the weekend and you intended to catch up on some much needed sleep.

“u-umi? i need you, please.” it was megumi. his voice was cracking and inbetween his words were heavy breaths.

you shot up out your bed, maternal instincts stepping forward and pushing all your fatigue to the back of your mind. your son needed you.

“what’s wrong, love? is everything alright?” you got out of bed, too worried to just remain seated.

“i-i don’t know. i was at this party and i took some pills with my friends and i don’t feel good. my head hurts, i’m seeing things that aren’t there, i’m scared, umi.” you could hear the waivering in his voice. it sounded like he was choking on sobs.

you didn’t think twice about running to your closet and putting on a pair of sweatpants and grabbing a random hoodie from the ground. dirty or not, it wasn’t the time to dwell on it.

“where are you, baby? i can come get you.” you shoved your feet into some ugg boots and grabbed the car keys from off the accent table by the front door.

you thanked god rin was with toji tonight.

“i-i don’t know. i had gone out with yuuji and his older brother choso. originally it was to a bar—.”

you cut him off, “megumi what are you doing at a bar?! you’re underage!”

the key had been in the ignition, but not turned. you went onto your phone and tapped life360 to track your bonus son. you weren’t his biological mother—not by a long shot, but it didn’t matter. since you came into the young man’s life when he was twelve, no one could tell you he wasn’t your son. you would be damned if something happened to him when you were around.

you got the address and put it into your google maps. “okay megs, i’m coming. just stay there and be calm for me, okay love? i’ll stay on the phone with you til i reach.”

knowing he would be saved, megumi let out a choked sob, one of relief but also pain, “i’m sorry, umi.” he mumbled.

you sighed, “it’s okay. we all been there once. you’re not too far from me so i’ll be there in no time.”

“please don’t tell dad.”

and god forbid you did. toji may have not been the best father to megumi—he may have not been what the boy needed as far as emotional security and physical affection go, but he did love his son. he valued him. megumi’s wellbeing was more important to toji then he let on, you knew.

had he found out his son had experimented with drugs, had put himself in harms way by not knowing what drug he took and where he was, it would be safe to say rin would become his one and only child.

when you finally reached megumi, he was curled up against a tree, outside of some house. he looked up once your headlights shone on him and immediately ran towards your car.

“umi, oh my gosh umi!” he cheered for you, his eyes teary and nose red. his hair was stuck to his forehead, and from the sight of his face, a thin layer of sweat coated his skin.

but you hugged him anyways. he was a bit taller than you, but you let him bury his head in your shoulder and cry, rubbing his back while calming him down with, “you’re safe, i’m here. it’s okay megumi.”

the ride back to toji’s was quiet, megumi had been staring out the window, biting on his fingernails and shaking his leg out of nervousness. you didn’t talk about the drugs, you didn’t ask about the party or what happened to the others. he had told you that yuuji and choso were staying the night at the house (the owner being a college friend of choso’s).

“do you have your keys?” you asked once you pulled into the driveway, turning the car off and leaning back on your seat with a big sigh. you were tired—being a working, single mom was tiring. always having to be at ten, for your job and for your daughter. you craved the nights sleep. but at the same time, you were relieved and happy that megumi was okay and with you.

megumi nodded and opened the car door, but before he got out, turned to you with pleading eyes. “can you come with me? just until i fall asleep.”

toji’s black pickup truck was in the driveway. he was home, but you knew that it didn’t matter. megumi needed you, and as the only thing close to a mother to him, you went.

it was strange for you, to be back in a house that held so many memories; so much love, so much pain.

toji and you had purchased the three bedroom, two bath home back in your first year of marriage. you wanted a home for your family to grow. to feel safe and loved.

when you came in you could hear the sound of white noise, matched with humming and the occasional coo coming from the kitchen.

you turned back to your bonus son, who was staring into space. “megs.” you grabbed hold of his cheeks, focusing his gaze onto you.

“go get some water before we go upstairs.” you instructed. you would have gone with him, but knowing your ex was up and just a couple steps away was overwhelming.

megumi took a deep breath and shut his eyes. he was high as a kite, but was able to realize his dad was in the kitchen. he was trying his best to sober up.

after a minute he walked in, greeting his father with a grumble before opening the fridge. the cool air was relieving, as he was hot beyond compare.

toji had turned to his son, greeting him back and then going back to making his daughters food. he had rin in a baby carrier tied to his torso, with his beats pill speaker in his pocket, playing white noise to help calm her. she had woken up in the middle of the night for whatever reason and was having a hard time going back to sleep.

megumi was aware his dad was a mere feet from him, by the kettle working on a bottle for his little sister. he loved rin, every chance he could get he would be speaking to the baby, telling her stories about his day as if she’ll understand.

megumi was looking up and down for the bottles of water. he couldn’t find them, but was unsure if that was due to the fact they ran out, or that he was too high to focus.

“dad, where’s the water?” he asked toji but did not turn around. the older fushiguro was trained to be observant and pick up on the details. lord knows had he taken one look at his sons face, he would see how out of his mind his child was.

toji didn’t turn around, too focused on making sure rin had the right number of ounces of water in her bottle. “should be in the fridge, brat. if it’s not there you probably finished it.” he was a bit on the cranky side, as rin’s random awakening was paired with restlessness and cries. he couldn’t get her to go back down, and lord was he exhausted.

megumi sighed, “umi,” he called out to you, like an idiot. “i don’t see the water, can you come help?” he was too high to pick up on why you sent him in the kitchen instead of going yourself.

toji scoffed, “why are you calling her?” he sounded annoyed at the mention of the nickname megumi gave you.

in all honesty he was more pained than annoyed. the mention of you was a reminder of his biggest fuck up. “s’not here.” he mumbled the last part, speaking to himself instead of his son. his eyes fell down to his daughter, who was looking up at him. she was the spitting image of you, and it made his stomach ache with guilt.

“umi! are you here?!” he shouted rather loudly, too under the influence to be aware of his sister, who shot up as he raised his voice.

toji jumped, his first instinct to throw the spoon he scoops rin’s formula with at his son. luckily he missed, hitting the counter and missing megumi by an inch.

“what was that for?” megumi grumbled, unimpressed and tired. he grabbed a bottle of powerade from the door of the fridge and decided it would be his substitute for water. he just wanted to shut his eyes and rest. his head seemed to be rapidly jumping from one thought to the next, yelling each one internally.

“ya startled rinny.” toji mumbled, running a hand over his daughters head to calm her down. she had looked up to her dad with puppy eyes and a quivering bottom lip, indicating she was on the verge of crying.

megumi apologized and picked up the spoon to put in the sink. he then quickly walked out the kitchen as to not startle his sister again. he saw you standing by the stairs and smiled, “umi, i could t find water so i got this. but dad said you weren’t here.” he was confused, high, and thirsty.

at the mention of your name again, toji found himself to be irritated and ready to do something about it. thankfully, he had finished with rin’s bottles and was leaving the kitchen, so he could catch his son and chew him out for speaking your name.

he had expressed to megumi that since you divorced him back when you were carrying rin, he didn’t want to hear your name at all. he didn’t want any remnant of you—excluding his daughter, in his home. the divorce hurt him, it ate at his heart until there was nothing left. he had already lost one wife, but to lose two—and to have the second be a loss he could’ve prevented….yeah the guilt and pain were eating him from the inside out.

but nevertheless he made his way out, “megumi, how many times do i have to tell you she’s not here? she’s not—” toji came to a stop once he saw you at the stairs, one of your hands on megumi’s head, smoothing out his hair.

“told you.” megumi mumbled, popping open the powerade and taking a big gulp, “umi can you come with me now?”

“come where?” toji interrupted. how could you not tell him you would be coming? why had you come? he had rin for another three days, so that wasn’t it.

megumi rolled his eyes. he was too high to understand the tension he had created, the drugs making him completely oblivious to the elephant in the room. “dad, please, umi is just gonna be with me til i fall asleep, m’feeling terrible.”

the teenager was still conscious enough to not turn to his father as he spoke, but his slurring words and nodding off head got his father’s eyes to widen in shock, and then burn with anger.

“motherfucker,” he walked closer to you two, his large hand turning megumi around by the shoulder and then holding his jaw so he could look him in the eyes. “are you fucking high, megumi?!”

toji’s yelling had startled rin, but hearing her fathers voice despite the volume at which it was at brought her comfort so she didn’t cry.

megumi shushed his father, finger to his pursed lips. “shhh shhh dad, you’ll wake the lil’ baby. don’t be loud at me, my head is on fire.”

“and you knew about this? that’s why you’re here?” toji let go of megumi and put his attention on you, eyes still burning with anger.

you scoffed, “i just found out about this. he called me to pick him up from a party because he was like this.”

megumi threw his hands up in defeat, “umi,” he whined, “that was our secret.”

“megumi go to your room, now.” toji ordered, staring angrily at his son. he was a combination of disappointed and hurt, with the slightest bit of guilt.

megumi huffed, but cooperated. “fine. but i just wanted umi to be with me. everything’s fucking dead without her.” he thought he had spoken to himself, in his head as he walked upstairs. but his words were out loud and picked up by you and toji before he disappeared into the upper level of the house.

once toji heard his door click, indicating megumi was in his room, he turned to you. he was pissed, eyes staring holes into your face.

here we go!

pt.2

Bodyguard 💋

Toji Fushiguro x Fem!reader | MDNI

"C’mon princess, use your big girl words. I know you can… where’d that smart mouth go huh?"

Synopsis: You’re a famous model and Toji is your bodyguard who used to be a MMA Fighter.

Warnings: SMUTTY! Power imbalance (physically), power play, fingering, nipple play (reader has pierced nipples), usage of the word 'cunt', slight breeding?, no protection

Wc: 3,3k

Being a model was always stressful for you.

Since your first shoot as a teenager you never got to stay anywhere for a long time and the diets your personal trainer put you on were brutal. Now you’re 22, still young and still just as pretty as you were when you started in the industry.

"Y/n ’m not gonna say it again, put your damn phone away 'n answer me…" Your bodyguard Toji speaks with his arms crossed and a stern look on his face as he pushes the button to the elevator. His black shirt is hugging his muscles and the scar on his lips slightly shrinks because of the frown planted onto his lips.

"What?" You look up from your phone and walk inside the elevator once the door opens.

Toji follows you quickly and first presses one of the elevator button to close the doors and then the one to your penthouse.

"What do you mean 'What'?! Why’d you change my schedule without tellin' me? That was my shift tomorrow, I was assigned to you!"

It’s not easy for Toji to not raise his voice at you, but the thought of you going anywhere alone was ridiculous to him. He’s clearly aware of the fact that you’re somewhat of an authoritative person to him, but he’s not fully willing to accept that yet.

"I wanted Kento for tomorrow…" You shrug.

"Nanami?!" He looks stunned at you, not understanding how you could replace him with someone he thought was the most bland and stuck up guy he ever met.

"Yes, it’s just for one day. You work too much overtime anyways." The bell chimes to signal the elevator has arrived and the doors of the elevator open wide. You and Toji both walk out, heading to your door when suddenly he slightly pulls you back by your upper arm.

"Why would you give my shift to Nanami? I never said I wanted to work less." Toji's voice is calm but very strict. He’s looking directly into your eyes, making sure you understand that he’s genuinely upset about this.

"I have a red carpet event tomorrow..." You’re not intimidated by Toji, you’d never be but you don’t like when he’s grabbing you like that. It’s just reminding you of the fact that he’s much stronger compared to you. You know he used to be a professional MMA fighter and you enjoy asking him questions about his former occupation but having him display his power over you is probably what you disliked the most.

"So? I don’t mind goin' to a red carpet with you." Toji genuinely looks confused by now.

"It’s not one of those events. I want Kento to go with me cause he’s a bit more suitable, that’s it."

You don’t care that your response sounded slightly dismissive since you were never scared to challenge Toji anyways.

He lets out an offended scoff at your comment.

"You think he’s more suitable than me? What’s that supposed to mean? I ain’t good enough to do my own goddamn job no more just cause I don’t got a stick up my ass, is that what you’re implying?!" He crosses his arms again, giving you another small glare.

"That’s not what I’m saying Toji, but this is a really big event and you don’t even wear suits…"

Your voice is slightly quieter than before, you still know there’s nothing to be scared of cause Toji would never do anything to you, but you don’t appreciate his sudden change in tone.

"Oh yeah? What do you think I am, some caveman? I can put on a suit and wear a tie if that’s what you want!" Obviously Toji noticed your reaction to him raising his voice a bit, so he quickly makes sure to be more soft spoken with you. His grip around your upper arm loosens and wanders up to your shoulder where his hand rests while his thumb slowly rubs your soft skin.

"You wanna tell me you’ll slick your hair back, wear a tie and let my make up team cover your scar?" You ask skeptically as you get the key to your door and unlock it.

"My scar?" Toji ask’s flabbergasted.

You nod as you walk inside and let him follow you in.

"What’s wrong with my scar?"

It’s not like he was ever insecure about any scars on his body, not even the one on his face but you implying he needed to cover it to be suitable didn’t sit right with him.

"Nothings wrong with it…"

You take off your jacket and throw it on the coat hanger next to the door, leaving you in your tight fitting top.

"I just don’t want them to think anything."

You say before taking your heels off ass well.

Toji would like to protest against your suggestion but he can't help but admire your figure for a moment, his eyes quickly trailing over your body, pausing briefly at your pierced nipples poking through your top before returning to your face.

"'m not trying to argue with you y/n."

He lets out a deep sigh.

"We’re not arguing Toji, I’m just asking you if you’re willing to do what I ask you for. I can always ask Kento." You say.

Despite the fact that you weren’t born rich and you like to believe that you’re quite humble you still show a bit of attitude sometimes.

Toji can do nothing but raise an eyebrow at you.

"Alright, I’ll cover my scar as well…"

He gives in.

"Good, you can go ahead and finish work for today then." A tired yawn slips of your lips.

"You just got home and you’re already trying to kick me out before I even get the chance to make sure you eat?" Toji lets out an amused snort at your comment.

"It’s not your job to watch me eat.."

At this point you’re just tired and ready to take a shower and go to bed.

"My job is looking out for you, no matter where. And when I think of the bullshit your personal trainer is puttin' you on, I think it’s better to keep an eye on your diet."

Toji chuckles.

"You don’t know anything about diets Toji…"

It’s not like you’re trying to provoke him on purpose, but it’s not just him that had a long day. You never liked explaining yourself or justifying your actions, unfortunately with Toji by your side that’s something you have to do a lot.

"I don’t know anything about diets? Sweetheart I had to maintain my body mass for years straight back when I was fighting, I think I know a lot more about dieting and nutrition than you do. So do me a favor and go eat something, yeah?" He gives you a slight pat on your lower back as you sigh and make your way over to the kitchen, thinking that giving in might be the only way he’s going to stop bothering you.

"You wanna eat something too?"

You ask Toji when opening your fridge.

You can hear him humming deeply before also walking into the kitchen and standing right behind you.

"No thank you… "

Both of his hands make their way to your shoulder before slowly dragging his warm palms down your skin. He’s gently rubbing over your upper arms while you look at the mostly old things in your half empty fridge. You really should’ve thought of sending someone grocery shopping for this week.

"You’re really cold doll…" Toji says, not happy about the observation he just made.

"I don’t feel cold." You shrug.

"Are you sure?" His hands travel to your ribs.

"Mhm.." you hum as you go reach for the bowl with the leftover fruit salad from the night before.

"What’s that? Don’t you want a sandwich or something?" He looks at the bowl skeptically.

"I don’t even have bread here Toji."

Your eyes roll yet again almost automatically.

"And thats the best you could find?"

He lifts you up and sits you down right on the kitchen island before getting a fork and handing it to you.

"I’ll leave once you’re finished."

He says as he leans against the sink across from you.

"You don’t have to." You mumble while carefully picking all the strawberries in bowl first since they were your favorite.

"I don’t have to? Five minutes ago you were practically beggin' for me to go home."

He snorts and looks at you with a small smirk.

"I was just mad cause you were pissing me off.."

You continue eating. You usually never minded any of your bodyguards being around you but Toji had a tendency of getting on your nerves.

It always seemed like he couldn’t accept that he won’t be able to always be in control.

"I was huh?" He chuckles. "Let’s hope you’ll still be able to sleep tonight." He says sarcastically.

His hand gently brushes some of your hair out off your face before gently grabbing your jaw and rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

Your eyes naturally look directly back at him, hesitating before removing his hand from your face, making him chuckle.

"I’ll be fine, let’s hope you don’t lose your job though." You answer just as snarky as he did.

"Is that a threat?" His smirk widens and his eyebrow rises quickly.

"You like testing me, don’t you?"

Toji leans in just slightly, his voice a low and steady.

Your breath hitches just for a second, but you quickly recover, poking him in his stomach with your right index finger.

Toji gently removes your hand from his stomach and laughs as he places it in the middle of his chest, putting his hand right over it to secure it.

"You think way too highly of yourself."

You shake your head in disbelief with a light smile on your lips, trying to pull your hand back to reach for the fork but Toji's grip is too tight.

Your heart skips a beat as his hand holds yours in place, but you keep your expression neutral, refusing to let him see the effect it’s having on you.

"Y’know what, maybe you should go home now."

You chuckle.

"'s too late for that now brat. You know what’s comin' now."

Toji’s eyes linger over your figure, a sly grin spreading across his face as he chuckles again.

"Nuh-uh.." you shake your head, trying to push him back with the hand that’s resting on his chest as he uses the hand that isn’t holding yours in place to wrap it around your waist.

He slips a finger between the soft fabric of your top and your warm skin, making your top lift slightly.

"What’s wrong princess? You don’t wanna play anymore?" He challenges you, letting go of your hand to wrap his other hand around your waist as well.

"You didn’t think all that teasing wouldn’t do anythin' to me now did you?"

He continues lifting your shirt, leaving you too stunned to speak. The palms of your hands are getting warmer and warmer and despite only you noticing it, you’re heart beat is starting to get faster as well.

Your breath stops for a second when he pulls your top right over your head and leaves you topless. Toji couldn’t help but smile at the sight of your pierced nipples hardening once they were exposed to the cold air.

"That’s a pretty girl."

He grins. As a model getting called pretty is like calling a bodybuilder strong or a scientist smart. It’s something that occurs often and usually it’s what people tell you when they first meet you, yet it feels like a genuine compliment coming from Toji. You can’t help but stare directly in his face, still silenced by his sudden actions.

Once realization hits you, you try to cover you chest but Toji quickly puts your arms back down.

"You don’t wanna let me see you?" He says in an almost mocking tone, slightly pouting with the same look on his face that he uses to make fun of you when you’re mad at him.

"C’mon princess, use your big girl words. I know you can… where’d that smart mouth go huh?"

His hands rest on your thighs, slowly making their way to the hem of your mini skirt.

"Toji…" Is all you manage to say in a quiet unsure tone before wrapping your arms around his neck.

You’d be lying if you said that Toji and you weren’t always dancing around that fine line of work and personal relationship, but despite some wandering hands here and there or a few flirty remarks on the side you never thought he’d take it this far.

It was easy to tell that you were attracted to Toji to say the least, but you still told everyone including your manager that you had no interest in him whatsoever.

Toji softly kisses your forehead as he spreads your legs further apart and lifts your skirt.

He smiles warmly at you as he traces around the hem of your panties before pushing the fabric to the side and gently rubbing his warm thumb against your clit.

Your body instantly reacts by flinching at the intense feeling, making Toji chuckle.

"It’s okay sweetheart, relax." He whispers, moving the other hand up to your still hardened nipples before tugging one.

His other hand keeps moving his thumb against your now swollen clit, making you grip harder into his shoulder.

As your core slowly begins to get wet he uses his index and middle finger to press against your entrance, leaving you gasping once he enters you.

"Atta girl." He looks proudly at you.

You use both of your hands to support your weight by leaning onto your palms and tilting your head back.

Toji slowly begins kissing your neck with both of his fingers still pushed deep into your cunt and his other hand toying with your nipple.

He trails his kisses further down to your chest before latching onto the other one, gently wrapping his tongue around it.

You can’t help but want more, you just need to feel more of him. You unconsciously start moving your hips more towards his hand in hopes of getting to feel more of his fingers but Toji quickly catches on to that.

He lightly catches your nipple between his teeth, making you stop your movements as he gives it a last rub with the tip of his tongue before letting go of it.

You whine when he stops, clearly not happy about his sudden halt.

"You want more princess?"

He grins, feeling you suck his fingers greedily deeper into you.

You nod at his question, sitting up straight to look at him and rub against the bulge in his pants.

"Say it.." He looks at you with a dead serious face.

"Huh?" You look confused back at him.

"If you want it so bad, then say it. Say that you want my dick, right here and right now."

He smirks.

"I’m not saying that." You refuse to participate in his power play, clearly just a weak attempt at an ego boost.

"Fine, as you wish." He shrugs before pulling both of his fingers out of you.

You gasp slightly at the sudden feeling of emptiness, still clenching around nothing.

"Noo, Toji!"

You’re surprised by how whiny your voice just got, but even more bothered at the stunt he just pulled.

"C’mon y/n 'm not stupid… you’re drippin' wet and you’re sitting here with your nipples all puffy, yet you’re somehow too prideful to admit that you want me? Just say the word and I’ll make you feel good."

He laughs, amused by your stubbornness.

"Fine goddamn! I want you Toji, I need you.. please…" you pout, immediately feeling shame all over your body…

"That’s all I wanted to hear sweetheart."

Toji's smirk widens.

"But I need you to get off there, alright?"

He chuckles as you take his hand and hop off the kitchen island, not sure where this is going yet. Toji doesn’t hesitate and pulls your panties down to your knees, leaving you just in your skirt. He stands right behind you and kisses your bare shoulder, making sure you’re not uncomfortable by tracing over your waist.

"Stop teasing me Toji…"

You complain frustratedly.

"Alright sweet cheeks, bend over then."

You immediately do as he says, leaning your upper body over the island and feeling one of his hands trails from your leg up to your ass.

You can quietly hear the buckle of his belt opening before he opens the zipper of his pants.

His other hand grips around your waist and you hear a small groan coming from Toji.

The side of your face, and your tits are pressed against the cool marble of the island and your back is slightly arched when you feel a tiny kiss being pressed on your shoulder.

"Let me know when it’s too much okay?"

Toji whispers in your year.

You nod quickly, not wanting to wait anymore when there’s suddenly a hand pushes one of your legs further apart.

It doesn’t take long until you feel his tip splitting your folds and rubbing against your clit, just like his thumb did earlier.

Toji takes a moment before starting to use a little bit of pressure to push into you.

He smirks smugly at the desperate sounds you’re making, trying to take his full length on the first try.

"Woah woah, calm down."

He pulls out again, before doing same thing all over again.

You try to relax as much as you can, feeling his hand rub over your back.

"That’s it princess, let me in. You’ve almost done it." He says before pushing much further this time. You bite your lip, holding any sounds back from slipping through your teeth.

"That’s a good girl, there we go."

Toji's voice is much gentler than before.

He hums with every thrust, feeling your warm walls suck him in.

Your eyes begin to water at the intensity of pain and pleasure mixing and your entire body starts getting warmer. Toji’s hand trails from your back up to your head and grabs the back of your head by your hair as he begins moving smother and faster.

You’ve never been this filled before and something in your body is telling you that you won’t be able to be that filled for much longer either. It’s not until you feel Toji’s other hand playing with your clit that you actually have to moan out loud. You try everything you can to hold back but it’s impossible.

With his full length inside you, the feeling of his fingers on you’re by now fully sensitive clit and your nipples rubbing themselves sore and perky against the stone of your kitchen island you just can’t keep it in anymore.

Toji immediately knows you’re climaxing by your cramping legs and tightening hole.

"Why didn’t you say you were close?"

He looks amused at you.

"I’m sorry…" you try to catch your breath.

"Oh no you’re good doll, don’t worry."

He still hasn’t stopped moving his full length in and out of you.

"You think you can spread your legs further one more time?" He asks you gently.

You nod, doing as he says.

Toji doesn’t hesitate and makes you suck him in a few more times before you hear him groan once more.

"Mhmmm, I knew you could do it."

He speaks and you feel him release himself deep inside you.

"I knew you were my good girl"

Can’t believe it’s been over a year omfg, I wanna start posting more especially since I have so many drafts, but I just can’t seem to finish them. :/ feel free to send requests, maybe it’ll help me get over my writers block and actually motivate me. Ly and don’t forget to reblog! 💕

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Black Fem Reader

CW: Profanity, Light Angst, Alcohol Consumption, Explicit Sexual Content, Missionary, Cowgirl, Fingering, Fingersucking, Cunnilingus, Slight Dom Reader (not much), Car Sex, Bathroom Sex

WC: ~16k (It's long so get some snacks)

Summary: 

Maybe you're single for a reason. You’re too outspoken and mean to men, too demanding with your expectations, and you refuse to settle for less. For the ones who aren't worth the air they breathe, you chew them up and spit them out. You savor the taste so you know what to avoid the next time.

So when he looks down at you with that devilish smirk and calls you 'Princess', you're determined to prove that Toji Fushiguro is no exception.

Notes: Hello! This is my first fic with Toji and I'm nervous to get it out here. The setting of this fic and the elements I incorporated connect a lot with my own childhood and the memories (not the interactions in this fic) that I had at family cookouts and get-togethers. Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated! Happy reading!

Dividers: @royallaesthetics @eloquentmoon Header: myself (stability.ai)

Masterlist | Ao3 | Twitter

**Do not plagiarize any of my works or translate without my permission!**

“Can I get you a drink, princess?”

When you meet Toji Fushiguro for the first time, it’s on the fourth of July at your uncle’s house. It’s a big get-together at a two-story house located in the countryside. Every year he opens up his spacious home for a gathering of your extended family to bring excessive amounts of alcohol, play old school rap and R&B too loudly, devour delicious fucking food, and set off fireworks that have been collected since the beginning of the year. 

Your uncle has already made a home by the grill and taken control of the speakers after one of your younger cousins attempted to play something ‘a little too racy’ for his tastes. You’re pretty sure it was an Ice Cube song from the 90s that your uncle hates but is too proud to admit, so he lectures your cousin about ‘what young folks should be listening to’ instead. 

The smell of hamburgers and ribs has been teasing your nose for the past hour, and your hunger is borderline unbearable with each sniff. You avoid the allure of the long table of food because if you look, you’ll be three plates in before the meat is done. There’s coleslaw, baked beans, greens, and macaroni and cheese. Your favorite aunt also brought her potato salad and you know she’s going to make yellow cake with chocolate frosting fresh before the fireworks. You love it so much and you were deprived of it last year when you were called in to work at the last minute. You will get some today.

The backyard is expansive and well-maintained, and your cousins and aunts have already laid their claim on swanky cushions of the nice patio furniture. 

The one cousin you’re closest to in age and personality sits next to you on a large blanket a few yards away from the rising volume of your extended family. You were able to get a good ten minutes of conversation from her before her fiancé showed up and made a home inside of her mouth.

Your family normally has something to say about PDA—a stupid quip about acting ‘too grown’ even though you are both knocking on the door of thirty. But she doesn’t care—just like you, that’s why you like her so much even though her fiancé is sucking on her face like it’s his last day on Earth.

Shiu Kong is nice—gentle in his own way and carries himself with a bored air that seems to pull your cousin in. He’s enamored with her, practically folds in on himself when she’s around, and worships the ground she walks on. They’ve been together for a few years and you’ve never had a problem with him.

But that just might change today because he’s brought along a friend who has already ignited a flame of arousal and annoyance deep within your belly. From the moment Toji Fushiguro stepped into the backyard with Shiu, your family was transfixed. Your aunts can’t stop ogling, and your uncles and male cousins try to jokingly size him up.

“Oh honey why don’t you sit down, don’t be shy. Lemme get you something to drink.”

“That’s not steroids? It’s gotta be. Don’t play.”

“How much you bench?”

It’s annoying. So fucking annoying but you can’t help but agree. He’s a little older—maybe early thirties—but dangerously attractive.

Raven hair that reaches his ears, looks unbelievably soft and falls over emerald green eyes. A grey shirt hugs him too fucking deliciously for your comfort and dark jeans hug an ass that’s too fucking juicy. He’s a big man—a burly man and unfortunately, that’s how you like them.

Big, burly like a bear, respectful, and capable of making you feel small and protected but also valuing and worshipping you as a woman. Unfortunately, such men are hard to come by because you tend to intimidate them. You don’t tolerate disrespect in any form and quickly put men in their place if they try to undermine, belittle, or confuse protection with control. You know what you want, and you refuse to settle for less. 

They can’t stand it.

And right now, you can’t stand Toji. As he looks down at you with a well-worn smirk on his face, a smirk that suggests he has plenty of experience in situations like this, your irritation grows. He’s a smooth talker, confident in almost everything he says. His voice is deep, but melodic in a strangely feminine way that makes his words slide like silk down your back, and the minute you heard it, your thighs threatened to rub together. 

Definitely a smooth talker. But the nickname you don’t care for. 

Princess.

Like you’re a dainty little thing who will bat her eyelashes and call him Daddy. It makes your walls of self-defense rise even higher, and the gentle smile you had given Shiu when he first said hello moments ago transforms into the beginnings of a frown. 

Without hesitation, you rise to your feet, plant your wedges firm into the grass, and turn away from them before muttering, “I’m good.”

Toji simply shrugs; a gesture that annoys you even more because he doesn’t offer any other reaction that satisfies you. He settles into your previously vacated spot, leaning back on his hands. The jacket on his shoulders falls open and the sight of his shirt hugging his muscles is too much for you.

You inwardly curse as your eyes wander over his physique. Thick pectorals that you could easily rub your face against and make a pillow for yourself to sleep on stretch the fabric in a way that you’re sure it’ll rip. Abdominals tease just below the surface of his shirt that clings to him like a second skin. You want to lick between each one, press your teeth into the hard skin to make him wince and beg as you count each one.

Four, six, eight? 

Fuck.

You don’t show how you want to straighten your spine against the chill of being caught staring. That smirk is on his face again, tugging at the corner of his mouth. There’s a scar on the right side that slashes vertically over his top and bottom lip and you dislike the arousal that begins to boil between your legs from the sight. You wonder how he got it. If it was a fight, did he win? The thought of him wrestling another man to the floor and taking a cut to the face in the process shouldn’t arouse you, but god it does. 

His eyes make you think of moss as you watch them slide up your body, and it almost feels like invisible hands caressing you. They’re large and pale, littered with scars along the knuckles as they glide up your exposed chocolate legs, dip between your inner thighs, and caress the curves of your hips.

“See something you like?” 

He’s ogling you but has the nerve to try and put you on the spot? You have enough self-control to let logic worm through the rising lust inside of you. You sneer down at him, sharp enough for Shiu to visibly pale and your cousin to giggle at.

“To be honest, I don’t really see much.”

You don’t give him a chance to retort and you pretend not to hear the soft hum of nonchalance he throws back. You walk away from them, turning just in time to shield the way your eyes widen at the feel of your face and neck prickling with heat.

The moment you close the bathroom door inside your uncle’s house, the breath trapped within your lungs escapes in a rush. You press your forehead against the wood and the coolness of it offers only little relief to the burning of your skin. 

You turn your head and press your cheek against the wood so the cold surface can slide along your cheek as you open your eyes to take in your reflection.

Of course, Toji would ogle you. You’re confident enough to know your beauty.

A red sundress that hugs your curves, stops at your mid-thighs. Knotless braids with curled ends are piled on top of your head in a loose bun with a few strands that spill along your hairline.

You’re good-looking. But you’ve been out of practice with a man for a long time. Your last relationship ended when you caught him balls-deep in your coworker. You’re too shy to pursue a one-night stand and not detached enough for a situationship. 

However, you could risk it all for Toji and you hate that you’re entertaining the thought. You hate that you’re imagining him barging into the bathroom, bending you over the counter, and taking you from behind with his large hand digging into the small of your back and whispering how much of a good girl you are as you beg him to cum.

God, get yourself together.

To calm yourself down, you find solace in your uncle’s quiet kitchen. There’s only one person occupying it, your favorite aunt, who is heavily pregnant and working on the yellow cake that you’ve been thinking about all day. You use the opportunity to distract yourself and take over for her, shooing her away to relax in the backyard. 

You crack an egg against the off-white countertop, fractures splitting up the sides before spilling its contents into the silver mixing bowl in front of you. A self-deprecating thought slithers in your ears, and whispers loudly with wicked intention. 

Toji wouldn’t want a woman like you.

You’re too outspoken and mean to men, too demanding with your expectations. It pushes them all away, and although you normally take pride in keeping away those who aren’t worth your time, it can get lonely. 

To see your ex actively cheating on you was icing on a cake that was slowly cooking in an oven of your own self-doubt. You have standards, and while your friends consider you the voice of reason in their misfortunes with men, most members of your family think you’re too picky. You’re too much work, ‘you think you know everything’. 

“Men will always have a wandering eye, it’s up to you to keep them in check, girl.”

“Honey, I love you, but the more you pick apart a man, the less he will want to be around you.”

“They love it when you cook for them, girl. Take care of your man and keep him fed and you’ll keep him forever.”

Bullshit.

It’s bullshit to take care of a man in the same way his own mother does. It’s bullshit to lose all sense of self and independence, to wait on a man when he gives you less than nothing in return—when he can hardly give you the bare minimum. You don’t mind cooking for a man who takes care of you, who loves and values you, who would never hold you back and would encourage you when you can hardly encourage yourself.

But all the good ones are in relationships now, married with a few kids, and in your resolve to stay strong and weed out the bad to find the good, it’s left you a little bitter.

Most black families are old school, and yours is no exception. They hold ‘for better or worse’ a little too close to their heart. They cling to an ideal that a man runs the household down to the basics in a way that makes you uneasy and in your defense, you snap when you’re backed into a corner.

You love them, you truly do, but they probably will never understand just how aware you are of the world and how little you are willing to put up with the problematic things that others consider normal.

Your ex was great at first. But he got comfortable. And when he got comfortable, he got lazy, a little too controlling, and a little too frustrated when you asked for certain things in the bedroom. The only person who knows about your breakup is your mother, who had the gall to be out of the country for work, leaving you to fend for yourself for today. 

You watch as the batter spills on each side of your wooden spoon, parting and then falling back together like sand. In your reverie, you don’t notice a few of your relatives who have now entered the kitchen and are roaming through the fridge. You can hear one of your least favorite aunts—the bitchy one—playfully joking with someone, and whatever drivel comes out of her mouth makes that person laugh. It’s deep and suave enough to make a tingle of electricity stutter down your spine because you know it’s him.

Refusing to look in their direction, you continue mixing the batter until the lumps disappear.

“You been hiding in this kitchen for awhile now,” your aunt begins, Atlanta accent the most grating it’s ever been as she turns her gaze toward you. “You’re normally a little more talkative when your man is here. He not coming?”

There is not a trace of genuine concern in her tone. You and her bicker often; she presses your buttons and then gets mad when you press back. Your ex’s infidelity is ammunition you don’t want to give her, but being caught in a lie is something she would only treasure more to use against you later. 

You clear your throat and turn the spoon in the batter once, then twice before answering without looking her way.

“No, he actually came inside of my coworker a few weeks ago. So we split up.”

You can feel the noise before you hear it—a characteristic and sharp ‘mmm’ that seems to be ingrained in your family’s DNA. It makes your grip tighten on the wooden spoon, and you scrape along the bottom of the bowl until it screeches on the metal.

“You gotta watch out for this one, Toji. She’s always been an outspoken one. Too good for ‘em all and likes to be a little mean to her men.”

You scrape harder and then turn to her, a sickly sweet smile plastered on your face. 

“You’re right. The fact that I won’t settle for someone who will get bored with me after a few years makes me way too good for them. Should have turned the other cheek just like you did with your last husband. Or…was it the one before him?”

You catch the way Toji pulls his lips in to bite down on them, scar twitching as he fights to hold in a snicker.

Your aunt glares at you, purses her lips, and turns them to the side before pulling in a noise that has been passed down for generations. Her mother and her mother’s mother used the very same tactic to strike fear and insignificance in their children when they talked back. It’s a sucking of air between her teeth and the sound makes years of discipline from your own mother flash in your mind like you’re in the trenches of war. 

You know she wants to say something, and you can taste the ‘you always got something to say’ in the air before Toji slides from his perch against the counter and places a hand on your aunt’s shoulder.

“Let’s get you a drink, huh? Didn’t you say you wanted me to try the beer you brought in?” She throws you a knowing glare before letting Toji lead her away; because if there is one thing that will distract her from showing out, it’s letting a good-looking man touch her.

The shaking in your hands helps you sift in the dry ingredients—a mix of sugar, flour, and baking soda—into the batter. The breaths through your nostrils are heavy and thick with anger, and the corners of your eyes sting with heat. You whip the batter harder than necessary, your aunt’s words replaying in your mind like a broken record.

Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry. Don’t—

The sight of a can of hard seltzer pressing onto the counter in front of you makes the ramblings in your mind stop. Familiar long fingers unfurl from the can and slide on the counter, their fingertips touching the edges of your mixing bowl in an effort to get to you.

“I would have given you a bottle of beer. But I had a feeling you might bash it over your aunt’s head.” He’s not wrong, and in your frustrated state, you consider his defense admirable. “I like a fight, but I’m a guest and the food looks good.” 

Your grip on the spoon loosens slightly as Toji leans casually against the refrigerator, arms crossed over bulging biceps that stretch the short sleeves of his shirt. His jacket is now gone, and you can’t help but notice the veins in his forearms that protrude, tempting you to lick against them.

It takes the sheer will to tear your eyes away and focus on pouring the batter into the bundt cake mold, observing as it fills the intricate crevices. 

“So he cheated? Most men are pigs.”

“But not you, huh?” you can’t help but retort, shaking the mold to disperse the air pockets that bubble on the surface.

In your peripheral, he shrugs. “I know what I like in a woman and once I get what I want, it makes no sense to look somewhere else unless she wants me gone. I’m a man…but I’m a loyal man.”

When you meet his emerald gaze, you can see a hint of pain and vulnerability that unsettles you, tilts you back on your heels from the force of his honesty. You reach for the can of seltzer and take a long swig to give yourself time to get your thoughts in order. The carbonation is sweet and fizzles along the sides of your tongue and down your throat. 

“So what is it you like in a woman, Toji?”

It’s a question that probably should have been left untouched, but your curiosity overpowers your restraint. You don’t want to go back outside, because if your aunt is still feeling particularly petty, she will say something that will only make you leave. And you don’t feel like letting your family win today. 

Toji’s strong gaze certainly isn’t helping. Those invisible hands slide along the crevices and dips of your body, stroking the small of your back before pressing featherlight against the back of your neck. The hairs rise in response, your skin prickling with gooseflesh. 

Unexpectedly, he pushes off the refrigerator and walks closer to you, and you’re too shocked to back away. Despite his imposing stature, you know he won’t harm you. There’s something about him that’s warm and inviting, soft and tender even though his exterior is hard lines and muscle. The two of you are now mere inches apart, and the air feels thin as if you’ve reached the summit of a mountain and struggle to breathe due to the change in altitude. 

Jet black locks graze against a rough cheek, the tips kissing the raised scar on the side of his mouth. Up close you can see his features more closely. His eyes are sharp and intense with deep green between his lids as if hiding a pearl in an oyster. Thin eyebrows make him look more serious and cutting and you’re swallowing back drool because your nose picks up a faint whiff of woodsy amber emitting from his body. It smells cheap—he’s put together in the most basic sense—but it still smells…good.

“I like a woman who knows what she’s about. Independent and doesn’t fuck around. Smart and pretty with curves I can grab and squeeze. Someone with some sass and isn’t afraid to put anyone in their place.”

He steps closer and your lungs heave in a desperate attempt to pull in air. The brush of the wall against your back makes you stutter out your exhale and you press your palms flat against the cool surface to keep you grounded.

“I like a woman with nice creamy brown skin that smells a little like the cake she’s baking…” Through the sea of delirium, you distantly realize that he’s describing you. “The red dress definitely is a bonus.”

That familiar smirk pulls against his lips again and your heart is thundering in your chest. You would be surprised if he couldn’t see it thumping erratically beneath the skin between what’s exposed of your cleavage. 

But this is just another trick in their book to get you in their bed. Or in the bathroom. Or over the kitchen counter.

And as much as you want to, you can’t give in. Because you’ll hate yourself tomorrow.

So you tilt your chin up at him and narrow your eyes at his amused expression. 

“Describing me in place of your ‘ideal woman’? That’s boring. Go use it on my bitchy aunt, she’s got fillers in her ass so that’s more curves for you to ‘grab and squeeze’ when she throws herself on you after the Hennessey kicks in.”

Toji’s eyes widen slightly before a harsh laugh barks from his mouth. It’s surprisingly nice on your ears and rattles the drums inside in a way that you don’t dislike. He pulls away from you, giving you a few more inches of space and the altitude in the air seems to level out enough for you to take an inconspicuous deep breath. 

“Nah, nothing against fillers, but I’m more of a natural man myself,” he admits.

“Cellulite and stretch marks?” you ask with a lift of a brow, teasing but…mildly curious.

You watch as that smile slowly slides on his face, teeth glittering and eyebrows raising. He looks like he’s hit the jackpot. 

“The whole package, princess.”

Biting the inside of your cheek to suppress a smile, you push down the lingering arousal in your stomach, refusing to let it simmer. He’s funny and you appreciate a man who loves the raw and often overlooked intricacies of a woman.

His response is disorienting, throwing you off balance, and you’re unsure of what to do next. Your usual response is to talk back, to take delight in a man fumbling when his own cards have been turned against him. But you can’t think of anything right now. 

You move around him to place the bundt cake mold into the oven, setting a timer with the plastic buttons above the stove. Snatching the seltzer from the counter, you lean back against the oven, putting a considerable distance between the two of you to think. 

Toji mimics your movements, retreating to the fridge to relax against it, folding his arms across his chest, and god he still takes up the room. Even though you’re further away, it still seems like you can smell the cologne as if it’s sitting right on the skin below your nose.

“Do your moves always work on women?” you ask before taking a good swig of your seltzer.

He shrugs in response and turns around to dig a beer from the fridge. You don’t bother to hold back the urge to leer at him. You want to grab his ass, listen to him squeal in surprise, and blush in embarrassment when you squeeze. The thought of digging your fingers into the skin of it as he fucks you nice and slow makes your mind short circuit, a computer rebooting and making a loud noise before frying out indefinitely.

“On the rare occasion that I happen to use them, yes they always work. But…obviously not on you.”

“I’m not easy to win over. You need to be worth my time.” Your eyes flicker up to his face before he turns around to face you.

He takes a swig of his beer and you watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs with each swallow. The column of his throat is long and pale and you want to slide your tongue along the side to taste the saltiness of his skin.

“What’s it going to take?”

His interest in you is admirable, and a small part of you is giddy with the attention. But you’re nervous to give him an inch when most are quick to take a mile.

“I have a name so stop calling me princess. I’m not a royal, so unless you’re offering me land, money, or power, I don’t want to hear it.”

He barks out another laugh, his thick chest shaking and eyes closing as he throws his head back. You despise how good it sounds and you’re reminded of these moments when men seem so beautiful and wonderful before the ugliest parts of them are visible.

“What else?” he inquires, still chuckling as he takes another long sip.

“If you’re expecting sex from me, think again. I don’t do one-night stands or friends with benefits. It’s messy and I just don’t have the strength for it.”

He seems to consider your remark as if he has no choice but to weigh your stipulation before signing a contract. Then he smirks that devilish smirk that makes your cunt pulse between your thighs when you know damn well it shouldn’t. You cannot be this turned on by this man.

“Not even if I have a big dick?” he teases.

He’s annoying and you’re mildly disgusted but still willing to banter with him, so you grimace and roll your eyes. “What, you want me to take a look first before I make up my mind?”

He full-on grins, the fucker. “If that’s what it takes.”

But in true fashion, you bounce back with your own quip. “Public indecency is a crime and I also don’t like to look at cock until after I’ve eaten something. It’s nauseating.”

Laughter erupts from him once again, loud and boisterous that it seems to shake the oven against your back. He probably thinks you’re joking. But you’re not. Dick already looks alien. Looking at dick on purpose without any sense of arousal is pathological behavior. 

Your heart flips in your chest when he pushes off the refrigerator again, taking a swig of his beer as he saunters to you and the sight is criminal. Your fingers dig just slightly into the metal can in your hands, a faint pop emanating from it. 

“What are you bothering me for anyway,” you can’t help but ask, frustration coating your words as you frown more at yourself than at Toji. “I have so many other cousins here who are single and would love to get their hands on you.”

At first, he doesn’t respond, and in the silence, you struggle to take a full breath again. You don’t like that he’s so close to you, but you also love the way he smells and the way he looks at you as if you’re someone and not something to fucking eat. You’re a fucking mess. 

His head tilts slightly, and his hair follows the movement, brushing against his cheeks as his eyes take you in instead of scrutinizing you. 

The air feels thin again, and you ready yourself to leave when your pregnant aunt suddenly barges back into the kitchen and stops short at the scene. Toji takes a slow step back, not really bothering to fumble at being so close to you. You’re sure he doesn’t really care.

She’s your favorite for a reason because she understands. She’s not dismissive and mean and she simply smiles knowingly at you both before gesturing with her head towards the backdoor.

“Time to eat. Honey, why don’t you show Toji what’s what before your uncles steal everything.”

***

He stays close to you when you both make it outside, and you do your best to ignore your bitchy aunt’s gaze from her perch in one of the patio chairs. The spread of food makes your mouth water and you waste no time grabbing a plate for yourself and absentmindedly handing Toji one as well.

“I’ve never had some of this before,” he admits, and his voice is a little apprehensive from next to you as he takes everything in. It makes sense, this is probably his first cookout…his first black cookout at least. Strangely, you’re proud to be the one to guide him along.

“What is this?” he asks, pointing to the heavy helping of greens and ham hocks on his plate minutes later. You’re both at a small table alone and away from the noise.

“Collard greens…it’s a cabbage that’s cooked in a pot for a few hours with spices and broth. The ham hocks give it flavor, cook it before you add the greens so the meat falls off the bone better.” 

You bite your lip to keep from laughing as Toji gives them a wayward glance, an arch of a thin brow that makes his features more handsome than they should be, and then he takes a tentative bite before moaning sinfully in appreciation. The vertebrae of your spine lock in place, stiff with a sudden chill at the noise as you picture it slipping from his lips while you ride him until the hinges fall off. 

You take your own bite to stop anything stupid from coming out of your mouth.

You figure he has to eat to accommodate for his size but to see it in action is something else entirely. He finishes two plates in fifteen minutes and as he makes his way to get another serving, your bitch of an aunt speaks up from across the lawn.

“Why don’t you get up and get him another plate?”

Why don’t you shut the fuck up?

You grip the plastic fork in your hand tightly, digging into your diminishing potato salad and swallowing the vile that you want to throw her way. 

Make your man a plate before you make yours, get him a drink, get him another helping so he doesn’t have to, keep him fed.

Maybe this is why you’re single. You want to scream. You want—

“Don’t listen to her. You’re still eating, don’t move,” he levels, and you don’t miss the hint of irritation in his own voice as he gets up. “The same seltzer as before?” he asks, pointing to your drink that you didn’t realize was empty.

“I—”, you fumble before clearing your throat. “I like the strawberry one…if there’s any left.”

He shoots a wink your way and your body ignites with heat.

Your cousin worms her way over when Toji disappears, and you try your best to ignore the sly look on her face.

“Defending your honor from our bitchy aunt? My, my, the perfect recipe for your feminist heart.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you growl, shoving the last of the potato salad in your mouth. 

“He’s Shiu’s best friend. Moved here from Japan a few months ago and is living in the same city as you. It could be fate? You want his number?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you snap again, feeling exasperated but knowing that unless Shiu is here to stop her, she will talk until she’s tired or you’re swinging at her.

She giggles, undeterred and gearing up for more. “He’s single too. And you’ve got all our other cousins mad as hell because he won’t leave you alone.” You don’t reply, because you’re mildly intrigued and impressed with yourself. It’s nice to have the attention from someone so attractive; it’s just figuring out if he’s genuine that’s the headache. “When the music gets louder tonight…or when the fireworks go off, take him upstairs and fuck him on—”

“Didn’t I say—fuck you.”

She guffaws, loud and unabashed and it pulls a smile from the side of your mouth. You know she doesn’t mean it, you know that at gatherings like these, you’re the black sheep and she just wants you to enjoy yourself.

“Seriously though, cousin. Shiu doesn’t keep many around, but they’ve been friends since they were kids. That’s a good sign right?”

There’s some merit to it, but you still want to be careful.

And Toji Fushiguro makes it hard for you to be careful because he wants you around him all the time and is unashamed to show it. 

Later in the night when the music is booming old school hip hop that your uncle won’t shut up about (he’s drunk), your other uncles—and a few cousins they will definitely con—have a table already bustling with spades. At first, you’re unsure how they convinced Toji to join, but he’s partnered with one of your cousins who has no clue about the game, and you realize they just want Toji to lose so they can feel good.  

Feeling curious, you pretend to bring Toji a beer. He’s frowning down at the cards, irritated with his lips curled into a small scowl and your cousin is trying to act like he knows what to do, but his stupidity is palpable even from where you stand.

You offer him a beer and ignore the fact that the one on the table is still full. When he looks up at you, his sharp eyes hold you like a vice, frustration evaporating quickly before opportunity takes its place.

“Help me.” He doesn’t bother to hide the confusion in his voice and you can’t help the way your stomach flips. 

One of your uncle’s snickers. “She doesn’t know how to play.” You do. “But she can try.”

You’re so annoyed, and you want to snap at him but Toji is pulling you closer to him with a muscular arm before you can. You’re in his lap before you know it, sitting precariously on a thick thigh with your back pressed against a broad chest and you can’t breathe again. The fluctuating altitudes are making you lightheaded.

Any other time and you wouldn’t hesitate to turn around and knock a man’s teeth in for grabbing you. But against your better judgment, you relax into Toji instead. His cheap cologne smells way too fucking good, he’s so big and warm against your body and your throat is drying up like you’ve taken a big breath in the middle of the Sahara.

“Don’t grab me like that,” you can’t help but grumble, only mildly put off.

“I improvised.” It’s a feeble excuse wrapped around a heavenly chuckle in your ear and you pray to whoever is listening, mentally offering up a sacrificial lamb, anything to ensure you don’t drip all over his thigh. “Now help me win.”

You do. Three times. He's adamant about winning and you're sure he has a gambling problem. And if your legs go a little numb from sitting on his thigh or if you lean into the way his outside hand slides to hold the curve of your waist, you don’t complain about it.

***

“You don’t dance?” Toji asks an hour later, joining you on the blanket that you occupied when you first arrived. It’s almost sunset, and the orange of the sky covers half of the backyard as your family revels in their merriment.

You shrug at Toji’s question, gazing at members of your family who are dancing in the yard. One of your loudest uncles is boasting about the music as he teaches one of your cousins dance steps. That used to be you so many years ago, and the moves are like muscle memory as you watch them. One of your aunts takes over the stereo, beginning what will surely be an hour of reminding everyone of the greatest hits. 

You suddenly realize that it’s just you and Toji on the blanket. Your cousin and Shiu are off god knows where, and given her penchant for being a rebellious freak, she’s probably riding him on your uncle’s bed. The thought makes you shudder.

“Are you cold?” he probes, pulling you out of your thoughts.

It is cooler now, but that’s not why you were shivering. You’re ready to tell him no, to start shaking your head even as you watch him pull his own jacket off to place it over your shoulders. His hands smooth over your shoulders and down your arms as if securing it closer to your skin and your blood boils beneath your cheeks. Your skin isn’t light enough to show when you’re blushing, but you’re burning with nervousness.

“Stop being so nice to me,” you hiss instinctively, regretting the words as soon as they leave your mouth. The surprise is evident on his face and you immediately feel guilty. “I’m—I’ll only be mean to you in return.”

For the first time of the night, he looks angry. His eyebrows dip, the scar on his cheek twists with the harsh frown on his lips and he gives a severe ‘tch’ that makes you gape at him. “Why because you’re mean to men?” he snaps, impatient and free of any tease. 

It raises your hackles instantly, and you’re talking back before you know it. “Exactly. So why don’t you take a hint and stop trying to get into my pants—”

You feel a rough finger on the side of your cheek turn you further towards him, preventing you from looking at anything else.

“You just don’t like bullshit. Stop acting up and let me be nice to you.” 

For once, you don’t have anything to say even though your hand is twitching with the urge to slap the words from his mouth. You want to. It’s easy for you to fight back and push them away, you’re good at it. But you can’t fight the way his gaze seems to calm you down against your better judgment.

You pull your face from his hold and roll your shoulders, sliding out of his sharp gaze and turning back to your lively family. One of your cousins is arguing about why the Cowboys didn’t make it into the playoffs, and now everyone has something to say.

You pull in a deep breath, scolding yourself to relax just a little. He hasn’t been so bad, and you’re not one to make things intentionally difficult if a man is honestly trying. You’re still apprehensive about his intentions…but he is trying without being a beast. So you exhale your frustrations into the July air, calm down so your heart can steady its frantic pounding from the lingering scent of his cologne, and dig your fingers into your uncle’s well-kept grass.

“Fine. If I let you be nice to me…what would be the next thing you would say?”

You can’t look at him, but you feel his eyes on your body as you pluck a few blades of grass from the soil. The strands slide against the pads of your fingertips, rough and threatening to cut, before fluttering in the breeze when you release them. 

He’s grabbing you again, tenderly but possessively, sliding you into his embrace so your back is to his muscular chest, his chin rests on the side of your temple and his arms wrap around your waist. Your heart is back to leaping in your chest, pumping loud and fast in your ears, drowning out the music and arguing as if you’re underwater.

“How about you tell me about your family?” he suggests, voice unmuffled through the thickness of your hearing.

It’s a random ask, as if he wants to impress them, as if you’ve been dating for a long period of time and he wants to be prepared to meet them for the first time. The thought doesn’t leave a bad taste in your mouth, even though you know it would never be a reality anyway. You don’t know if he’s just joking and frankly, the feel of him against you is warmer than his jacket on your shoulders and you don’t want to leave.

So, if it means he can stay put, you give in. You tell him about your aunts, uncles, and cousins—where they are from and what they do. You share your traditions when you all get together and the small intricacies you all share. It’s incredibly personal…maybe even too intimate. But he listens, and hums to let you know he’s paying attention, and asks you questions as you talk.

Eventually, his cheek rests on the crown of your head against your braids and you surprisingly don’t mind at all. When you notice his arms wrapped around you, you get a better view of the scars on his arms and fingers, and there is a rising urge to ask how he got each one.

“So she’s been married twice?” his voice is low in your ear so you can only hear him in the noisy backyard. His breath smells faintly of the beer he finished an hour ago, and it slides along the skin of your neck hot and thick. You resist the urge to cant your neck to the side to give his breath more room to roam.

You nod. “She got the fillers after the first husband. Those brought in the second husband. Then he left her for some girl in Cali.”

“Cali?’ he questions, confused.

You snort softly. “California.” You elbow him and the bone slides against hard muscle. Dammit. “You don’t know your states?”

“I’m foreign, not stupid.” The laugh that bubbles from your chest is sharp and you can’t help the smile that pulls against your cheeks from it. “I know my states!” He sounds truly annoyed and for some reason that makes you laugh harder. “Florida, Kansas—”

“I’m not asking you to prove yourself!” you sputter around a giggle, shaking in his embrace. But he’s not listening.

“Montana, New York…there’s another one…the big one.”

You gawk, turning just a little to crane your head up at him. He looks down at you with an embarrassed expression, his cheeks a little rosy even though his lips are flickering with the urge to laugh. 

“I beg your finest pardon…the big one?”

The side of his face twists in the nastiest way, and he’s angry at being questioned. “Don’t—it’s the one down below!”

“In relation to what?”

His eyes narrow, emerald barely noticeable between thick lashes. You can sense his hold on you tightening slightly, his chest stutters in a huff and you realize with rising glee that he’s pouting. Normally you would revel in this…but—

“Texas,” you find yourself speaking up at him, voice soft and gentle on the edges. “The big one down below is Texas.”

He simply hums, his chest vibrating against your back, but his gaze is smoldering, taking you in and dipping down to your lips before flickering back up your eyes. You’re too hot now, his jacket against your skin too suffocating, your heart beating too fast against your ribcage.

You hate just how rebellious you like to be. “What, you gonna kiss me?”

The challenge is fleeting across his features and he leans down so quickly that you don’t have time to react. Your stomach flips with irritation at the implication that he would take from you without asking, and suddenly, you no longer want him touching you.

“I wouldn’t take it without asking,” he whispers in the small space between you both as if reading your thoughts. The tips of his raven locks brush against your cheek, there’s a slight kink in your neck from how you are looking up at him, but he’s so close that you don’t care. One of his hands skims up from your waist, caressing the curve of your ribs, and his thumb teasingly runs along the underside of your clothed breast. His touch is reactive in you, and you angle your body further into his actions. His gaze remains locked on yours, absorbing your very being without doing a thing and you’re fighting to stay in control.

“So can I?” he asks, voice deep with temptation. “Kiss you?”

You swallow the bucket of drool that has somehow pooled in the back of your throat in seconds. The thumping of your heart no longer fills your ears, replaced now by a deafening ringing, spurred by your growing desire as you open your mouth to respond. 

“I…depends…are you any good?”

He nonchalantly shrugs, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as his scarred lips twist into a smirk. He’s completely calm and you can tell if you told him no, he would leave it alone entirely. But he’s enjoying this, you can see it all over his face.

“Jury’s still out.”

You don’t trust yourself to say ‘yes’. Some part of you feels like if it comes out of your mouth, it will sound too desperate and you want to stay in control as much as you can. But, you could give yourself this. You’ve earned it. Just one kiss and then you could hide away until the fireworks and then use the noise as a cover to leave. After all, he’s hot. He’s been so nice and honest and the warning siren in your mind has long faded.

You deserve a reward.

So you nod, stiffly but enough for him to notice, and the air seems to thin out again when he leans in a little more.

“Toji!” one of your uncles calls out, severing through the heavy cloud of lust between you both like a knife. You recoil from his touch, his touch now only making you itchy, and you pull from his embrace so that his arms unravel and his jacket slides off your shoulders. The cooler air is freezing this time against your skin. “Come help me with the fireworks, would you?”

You don’t pay attention to his response, because you’re already up on your feet and making your way inside the house. Your body floods with the embarrassment and shame of being caught by your family…kissing a man that you’ve just met. You know you shouldn’t care…but it’s so easy for their behavior to rub off on you when you feel vulnerable.

***

Thankfully, no one is in the kitchen when you finally make it inside. The music dulls down when you close the backyard door and the ringing in your ears is now silent. 

You resolve to stay inside until the fireworks go off. No one is really paying attention to you anyway—most of them are drunk, others too absorbed in the music and gossip so it’s a perfect chance for you to duck away and show your face again next year.

Should you tell Toji goodbye?

No.

No, you hardly know the man. Just a few hours in good company and a kiss that almost happened that you probably would have let escalate. You probably would have let his tongue slide into your mouth. Probably would have let him pull you into one of the spare rooms, eat you out until you’re seeing stars, and then bend you over the edge of the bed to fuck you until he—

For fuck’s sake.

You yank open one of the kitchen cabinets in search of a glass. You need water because your body is piping hot. There’s a sheen of sweat on your neck beneath the layer of braids that fell when Toji laid his cheek on your head, and your hands are slick as they press into the counter to give you strength to peek into one of the lower shelves. Of course, the only one in the cabinet would be on the highest shelf. Of course, you’re too fucking short.

You climb onto the counter, knees digging into the off-white surface as you lift yourself up and peer into one of the higher shelves. You spot a glass, and you can have a heaping glass to cool yourself off enough to get you home. And then you can just use your vibrator once and go to sleep. Or twice. Or maybe a third time to get the thought of him out of your mind for the foreseeable future. 

Unbeknownst to you, he’s standing behind you. You didn’t even hear the back door open and close. But you catch a glimpse of a long, muscular arm reaching past your ear to grab the glass. You’re frozen, your fingers digging into the wooden shelf, unable to turn around and face him, even though you can feel his gaze hot on your skin.

Your plan is shattered, and you have no choice but to come up with an excuse to leave him. You’re combing through scenarios in your mind as you slowly slide down and perch yourself on the countertop, finally facing him. He places the glass on the counter, away from you, and closes the distance between you until the ridges of his clothed abs brush against your knees. His hands are searing against your skin as they rest on your knees and you watch his thumbs trace an obscure pattern with a touch that is featherlight. 

“Your uncle interrupted us,” Toji finally speaks, his voice carrying a hint of hopefulness despite his attempt to maintain a neutral expression. His gaze, so harsh and sharp, is alluring in its own way, tempting you to relax the steady clench of your thighs.

“It probably wasn’t a good idea anyway,” you chuckle, self-deprecation rising to the surface of your skin and prickling against the pores.

“Why not?”

Maybe because you would be too much for him and scare him away? Maybe the fear of being too demanding in bed, of not being able to stop once he kisses you, lingers in your thoughts, making the idea of having him only once and never again infuriating.

“I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want. I’ll get you water and let you sneak away when the fireworks go off because I know you want to…even though you shouldn’t give a fuck about what your family thinks…but I would really like that kiss.”

Analyzing his features, you take in the sincerity reflected in the moss-green of his eyes. It’s a last-ditch effort to make sure something else isn’t hiding there, and you find yourself coming up short.

Slowly, you part your legs for him to stand between. His hands slide up your thighs tantalizingly slow, leaving a trail of fire in their wake before pushing the fabric of your red sundress up to your waist. You try to ignore the way the cool air on your panties does little to quell the heat radiating from them. His hands wrap around your waist and a gasp heaves from your lips when he yanks you to him, your thighs brushing the sides of his thick waist. 

One of the hands on your waist trails up to the side of your neck, gently tilting your head up, so you can look fully at him as his thumb traces the skin of your bottom lip.

“You better make it good,” you challenge, hoping your faux annoyance can mask the anticipation building in your gut.

He sees right through it and simply hums before he leans down to finally seal his lips against yours. He’s a big man, an overwhelming man, and you feel it in his kiss as his lips take every ounce of breath you have in your lungs. He tastes like the pound yellow cake that everyone got to before you could and a hint of beer and it’s the perfect combination that you want more of. 

His hands are under your dress, brushing beneath your thighs for traction and pulling you impossibly closer to the point where you feel your clothed center brush against the zipper of his jeans. You dig your hands into the fabric of his shirt, twisting and silently commanding for him to give you more. You open your mouth to coax him and his tongue is wet and insistent against yours.

You can feel your resolve dissipating in the air, fizzling against the heat that radiates from your body and your self-control is walking on a tightrope, precariously and seconds away from falling. And once it’s gone, you’ll be a woman unhinged.

He yanks you to him again as if its not enough, harder this time with a growl in the back of his throat that makes you gasp into his mouth, then rolls his hips against yours and behind his zipper you feel him hard and bulging and angry and oh—

You pull away with a harsh breath, gasping for air and biting back a moan that gurgles in your throat when his mouth works its way down the skin of your neck. Your skin is sensitive, and it buzzes with the touch of his lips and invokes a fervent need so deep within you that you’re losing awareness of where you are. You’re lightheaded, brain in the fucking stratosphere and you have to lay down, you have to—

He’s guiding you onto your back before you can do it yourself and the cool counter is a balm against the skin of your exposed shoulders and back. He looms over you from his place between your legs, big and muscular and reeking of hunger. 

“Toji,” you try to speak into the air, stifling a whimper at the sight of him stretching out your leg to rest on his shoulder.

One of his large hands caresses the canvas of your calf before you watch his lips kiss your chocolate skin. His rough scar scratches against you in the most delightful way as his mouth kisses up your calf, bends your leg to get closer, and then resumes his touch on the inside of your thigh. His face should be melting with the amount of heat emitting from between your legs, but he must relish in the burn because the second his tongue slides thick and wet against your clothed cunt, you whimper pathetically into the air.

You have just enough common sense to break from the desire to be fucked thoroughly to whisper.

“Toji, we can’t,” you swallow against the dryness in your throat. “Someone could see.”

You can feel the impatience on his body in waves but he has to listen to you. If your family were to walk in here right now to see their niece or cousin being eaten out like a gourmet meal, the Earth would swallow you whole.

“Shit,” he hisses, pulling you into his arms and carrying you out of the kitchen. You don’t care enough to tell him where to go; you’re too hot, too wet in your panties, and your need is twisting at the base of your spine in the most irritating way, begging to be soothed. 

You hear the beginnings of fireworks being popped off in the backyard and your family is loud, thankfully so loud as Toji locks the door to the bathroom and drops you unceremoniously onto the counter. Though the metal of the faucet digs into the small of your back and you fall into the mirror as you clamber to get yourself in order, you can’t bring yourself to care. He’s on you again, all teeth and lips and sinful tongue in your mouth with equally sinful hands digging impatiently into the sides of your panties.

“Take them off,” you demand, practically whining and in less than a second you can only get one leg out before he’s sinking to his knees, eyes wild and shoulders heaving with untamed breaths. 

“God, you’re so fucking wet. So damn pretty,” he whispers in reverence, throwing your legs over his shoulders, and the compliment makes your cunt throb in anticipation.

You can’t be sure if he’s talking to you or himself. Before you can breathe to calm yourself, it’s catching in your throat, hitching against a moan as his tongue licks a long wet stripe up the slit of your dripping cunt. His tongue parts your folds as if it’s the sea, savoring your essence and then sucking your clit into his mouth like it’s the cherry on top and you love it, whine at the feel, eyes crossing and rolling into the back of your head at the exquisite feeling.

He pulls away for a moment, taking a deep breath as if to regain control, and kisses the inside of your thigh before sliding two fingers up your dripping center, collecting your slick before beginning to rub circles on your clit. He’s mesmerized, and you take a moment to marvel at just how little of his green eyes are visible to you, his pupils are dilated with hunger and focused on the way your cunt moves with his fingers.

“Your bitch of an ex ever eat you out?”

You really don’t want to think about him right now, and you also don’t like the thought of someone feeling like they need to prove themselves to you.

But there’s a big man between your thighs who wants to unwrap you like candy. So you shrug, panting softly as you speak, “Every now and then.”

Toji scoffs, eyes seeming to darken like a forest at night.

“Every now and then,” he parrots, voice incredulous as if he’s heard the most insane thing ever, like he can’t believe it.

He increases the pressure on your clit harshly, causing you to buck against him, yelping in satisfied shock when he flicks your sensitive bud hard with his tongue.

“I’ll make you feel good, princess. Don’t you worry.” 

The nickname doesn’t have the effect as before. No, this time you moan in response, your guts churning with satisfaction at the prospect of being worshiped.

Slowly the two fingers on your clit slide into you, testing the waters, gauging if you’re okay, and your jaw slackens at the feel of the stretch. Fingering is an art, an act that requires patience and skill. You have to know the right pace, when to curl, how to know a woman’s body to determine what she wants. It’s glorious when it’s done right. 

And god, does Toji do it right.

He’s thorough and fluid in his strokes, using the tempo of your moans to curl at just the right time and sucking and licking your clit like he’s ravenous and your head is falling back into the space between your shoulder blades, eyes wide with disbelief as you stare at the ceiling. 

The fireworks are consistent outside, popping off every second and it’s loud enough that you have the courage to voice how Toji is making you feel. 

“Every now and then,” he hisses again to himself, angry and curling his fingers a little harder. You jerk against him, whimpering like a fool when you feel his tongue flick your clit harder as a reward. “He’s so fucking stupid. You taste so good, it’s unbelievable.”

He’s curling more now, brushing against that spongy wall that zings heat to your belly. Your insides churn, a molten heat popping to splatter against the base of your spine, pleasure coaxing you to reach that precipice that will let you fall apart. 

Vaguely you hear him whispering words into the skin of your thighs that you can’t decipher, the thrumming in your ears too loud to hear anything else beyond the fireworks outside, your escalating moans, and the obscene sounds of him slurping you up. The muscles in your thighs begin to tighten, your fingers are sweaty as they slide against the cool marble of the bathroom counter, and you dig your wedges into the muscles of his back, white panties dangling off one ankle. He’s so good, so thorough and your breath is hitching, choking on a moan.

“There you go princess, cum all over my fingers. Get me nice and messy.”

His deep words are accompanied by a sharp bend of his fingers and you’re cumming with a shout, rejoicing in the hot pleasure that puddles along your bones. It’s abrupt and overwhelming, pulling a sharp current down your body that makes your back arch until it bumps into the sink behind you. He’s groaning from his place between your legs, still pumping his fingers and licking your clit to collect as much of your slick as he can.

By the time you look down at him, you’re still catching your breath, your thighs tremble from the sudden chill injected into your muscles. You catch Toji just in time to watch him begin to slip his two dripping fingers into his mouth, but you snatch his wrist, riding off the high of your orgasm to slip his digits into your mouth instead. Thin rings of green widen in surprise and you savor the way his cheeks darken as you swirl your tongue around his digits.

“You’re unreal,” he gulps when you pop his fingers out of your mouth.

You shrug, not willing to show him just how powerful you feel, and wrap your legs around his waist, panties still caught on the buckle of one of your wedges. 

“I’m letting you be nice to me, remember? So what’s next?”

With a harsh pull, he stumbles closer to you, his hands slamming against the marble counter on either side of your waist. His breath hitches as you hastily undo his belt, eyes widening as he takes in the way you leer up at him. 

“You got me a drink, defended my honor from my bitchy aunt, asked me about my family, ate my pussy…you wanna fuck me now?”

“I—” he starts, caught off guard by your forwardness.

“You want to bend me over this counter, make me look in the mirror while I take your cock? Smack my ass and make me beg for you to fill me up?”

“You’ve got a mouth on you,” Toji chokes on a nervous laugh, hissing when your fingers graze the sensitive skin above his belt. 

“Is that a problem?”

The hair of his happy trail is faint and dark just like the hair on his head, and your touch makes his stomach bunch in sensation. He shakes his head in response and you want to laugh so bad at the sight of him struggling to swallow. You haven’t done anything to the man, but he’s sensitive to your touch, and that makes the blood in your veins sing.

“If you’re letting me have you, you can have it however you want.”

Arousal hums to life between your legs, and you can’t help but be turned on at how much he’s giving you. You want him now and while the prospect of being fucked over the counter was what you had hoped, if your family comes in and hears you taking it like a champ, you’ll never show your face again.

So when the door to your truck’s backseat closes, you’re climbing back on his lap, relaxing further into him with the knowledge that you can be as noisy as you want. Your uncle has a seven-month supply of fireworks and land in the middle of nowhere, Hennessey, and classics booming from his sound system… it’s going to be loud for a very long time. 

You’re running on your own current of desire at this point, pawing at his shirt so he can finally yank it off his shoulders and you’re drooling. He’s glorious and you don’t hesitate to rub your hands down firm pectorals, between the abs on his torso, and along the musculature of his Adonis belt. He’s cut like a marble statue, something that takes a painstaking process to hammer and smooth over until the result is almost—

“Let me take you out,” he suddenly suggests, voice gravelly with want but insistent.

Huh?

You’re immediately puzzled, eyebrows dipping into a furrow as you try to decipher his words. His hair is wild, black strands splintering and bushy but still giving you a gateway to his eyes and you see that he’s completely serious.

“On…a date?” A lift of his thin eyebrow in reply and the reality of him actually showing interest flags dangerously against your desire to ride him into oblivion. “Just the dopamine talking, I’m sure,” you say, hoping to dismiss the idea. You hadn’t expected him to actually…want to take you out. You can’t think about that right now because your head is too thick with hunger to try and have a conversation.

He hums, low and dangerous, a hand brushing the skin above your clit and you’re reminded of just how wet you still are from his sloppy tongue minutes before. 

“You’re the only one here that’s cum, princess. I’m being serious.”

“It’ll pass,” you reply immediately, licking into his mouth to shut him up.

Thankfully he doesn’t try to interject because you don’t have time to talk right now—you don’t want to. You don’t know Toji, not well enough. While tonight has been one of the most relaxed evenings you’ve spent with a man in a long time, you’re unsure if he genuinely wants you or if he’s merely carried away by the thrill of being with a woman.

He tried to come onto you the minute he laid eyes on you, tried to kiss you after a few hours, and pocketed your panties even though you pretended to be oblivious. You just don’t know. If you had a pretty girl in your lap, you would probably say the same things. Ask her on a date, make her feel wanted so she’s more giving when you slide her panties off.

It’ll pass.

And that’s what you tell yourself when you feel his large hands palm your ass beneath your sundress. You are teeth against him, nipping his tongue, biting the skin of his jaw, the meat of his neck, and the sharp groan that you pull from him in response makes you drip like a bitch in heat against his jeans.

“Take off your pants,” you whisper to him sharply, turning around and leaning over the center console to fish a condom from inside. You had discovered them months ago, and they should have been more than enough for you to dump your ex then.

“Shit,” you hear Toji hiss from behind you before your ass stings from his slap against it. You yelp, jumping from the contact and you hope he can see your cunt pulse from between your thighs in response. “Hurry up, baby.” 

When you face him again, you freeze, eyes widening at the sight of his cock. As you take him in, he snatches the condom from your hand and unfurls it on his cock.

Surprisingly trimmed with dark hair, he’s thick—not enough to be painful—but enough to enjoy the stretch so you can ride him until he flatlines and enjoy the ache in your thighs in the morning. It’s perfect; pale with a red tip that leaks into the tip of the condom, a vein along the side that you can’t lick without tasting latex. It’s a shame.  

He throws you that devilish smirk, eyes twinkling in pride before he taps his thigh and beckons you like the best ride at the carnival.

“Hop on, princess.”

Your fingers grip the hair at his nape when you feel him inside of you. It’s a delicious stretch that you have to breathe through, and the feel of his hands affectionately stroking your back catches you off guard. You don’t hate it; in fact, you want to lean into it, but you don’t want to give him any ammunition for something you aren’t sure about. So you slide down to the hilt and listen to Toji curse sharply through the sudden heat of you before you start a steady rhythm that throws him off.

Within seconds, you increase your pace, riding him with an intensity that makes the air in your throat catch and drag along the sides. He’s got a satisfying curve to him that grazes those magical spots within you to make the grip on his nape tighten like a vice. Your head is foggy with an overpowering mist that makes your mouth loose and your inhibitions low.

“You feel so good,” he whispers, pulling you out of the delirium you were basking in to focus on him. His jaw is relaxed, hot air puffing from between an open mouth and onto the skin of your neck, a few strands of his hair stick to his forehead and the sides of his cheeks and there’s a slight furrow to his thin eyebrows as if he’s trying to concentrate.

You’re giddy with desire. “Let me guess,” you tease, lips brushing against his. “Am I tight?”

“Yes,” he replies without hesitation, eyelids hooded and upper cheeks darkening with a blush that spreads down his neck.

“Am I nice and hot?”

“Yes, fuck yes, baby.” 

It’s meant to tease, because every man that has ever slid inside of you in the past says the same shit, but to hear it from him brings a strange sense of satisfaction that you find yourself slanting your lips against his. He still tastes like the yellow cake that you never got, but the flavor is intertwined with the remnants of your essence that still lingers on his tongue that dances with yours. 

You plant your knees harder into the seat on each side of him, use your muscles to bear down and give you more control, and then you roll your hips, guiding him in and out in a tantalizing dance that elicits groans from him and makes him roll his head back against the headrest.

“Let me take you out,” he gasps into the air and you refuse to answer him—you can’t. It’s harder now to believe his sincerity because he’s delirious with lust. “Answer me.”

You growl softly and yank your hands from his hair to push down the straps of your sundress. You’re not wearing a bra, and he cusses like he just stubbed his toe as he watches your breasts spill free.

“Stop talking,” you whisper and yank his head forward, beckoning him to you and he catches on quickly, licking and sucking a nipple before pulling it into his mouth. The sensation makes you shudder, a gentle pleasure that your cunt appreciates and you pick up your pace on him again. “Stop asking me. Just let me fuck you.”

He bites down in retaliation to pull a squeak from you and licks over the sting in a half-assed apology. When you look down, his gaze is illuminated by the streetlights, a harsh glare that showcases his annoyance with your deflection, but his eyes droop when you squeeze around him in response.

You’re stuffed full of him, stretching along the sides, punching the air out of your throat with each bounce on his cock and your legs begin to burn with the build-up of exertion. Your nipples are wet and sensitive against his taste buds as he teases each peak into his hot mouth and it helps to mix that pot of pleasure in your stomach to life again. 

You can feel it, like a crescendo of waves crashing against a dock, but the waves are coming in quicker and more turbulent with every moan and cry that falls from your lips. You push him off of your chest, dig your fingers into his shoulders for more leverage so you can ride his cock like you have nothing left to lose.

His chest is blooming red, covered in a light sheen of sweat that dips between his pectorals and pools in his collarbones. Your bun of braids came loose when he was eating you out in the bathroom, and now some are heavy on your skin with sweat and plaster over your shoulders and between your sternum and you’re hot and sweaty and trying so hard to reign it in. 

He doesn’t buck up into you and you’re unsure if it’s due to laziness or the fact that he simply wants to watch you while he brings himself closer to climax. You hope it’s the latter. 

“Do you like this?” you pant into his mouth and nip his bottom lip. “You can tell me, you know. Be a good boy and tell me just how I’m making you feel.”

He groans and lands another smack to your ass that makes you gasp and arch further into him. It's the right amount of pain that makes your pussy pulse in response, the right amount of manhandling that can take you higher in a second.

“You’re a natural, princess. You ever ride him like this?”

You shake your head and he smacks your ass again, harder this time and digs his fingertips into the flesh to let the sting linger. It's so good, and you can't help the whine that you puff against his lips as he smirks up at you with a proud disposition.

“He couldn’t handle it. Probably why he cheated wasn’t it? You were too much for him. You know how you like it and he couldn’t deliver.” 

You don’t answer him, but he’s right. He’s so right. He couldn’t stand it when you took control, hated when you asked him to do something that didn’t result in him being dominant, hated when he couldn’t even eat pussy without you having to ask. 

The feel of his fingers on your clit makes you jump and you poke your fingers into his nape again and pick up your pace, panting and moaning like you’re running a marathon as the pleasure rocks inside of you like a pendulum. 

“Oh god. Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you whisper, stomach burning.

You’re fluttering around him—pulsing and clenching and gushing over the thickest cock you’ve ever had and it’s glorious, you’re in fucking heaven.

The streetlight shines faintly into your truck, painting half of Toji’s face. He’s beautiful; that same annoying flicker of desire that captivated you when his green eyes met yours hours ago glimmers thin and dilated.

There’s a ruggedness to him that exudes masculinity, but glimpses into the depths of his eyes reveal a tender vulnerability that makes you wonder how soft he could be if he allowed you to get close enough.

The thought makes your cunt tighten around him, your thighs tense and fill with lactic acid and his fingers on your clit are unceasing, rubbing in a precise rhythm that makes you hiccup on a moan of incredulity. The hand not occupied with your clit is reclined across the headrest behind him and it makes him look unbearably sexy.

“I’ve never had a woman ride me like this,” he whispers, and you smile into his mouth, your kiss messy as you swallow down his compliment. He yanks you away and breathes that same insufferable ask against your lips.

“Let me take you out.” He rubs your clit faster, using the way you tighten around him as a guide to your pleasure, and his hand leaves the headrest to dig into the meat of your ass. “One chance. One dinner. I’ll give you what you deserve, whatever you want, princess. I promise just—”

“Stop it,” you whine and fight the burning sensation in your eyes. You’re so close, so fucking close and the storm inside of you is out of control but he won’t stop fucking talking. Won’t stop being so damn nice even though his cock is rearranging your guts in the nastiest way. You grip his hair and pull him closer to you so there’s no space between you to breathe. “Stop talking. Stop asking. Make yourself useful and make me cum.”

Thankfully he does. He scowls up at you behind the curtain of his hair but pinches your clit and you squeal, rolling your hips, riding him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. The windows have already fogged up, the truck rocks with your movements, and you are consumed with a blissful incoherence that forces you to surrender and let your walls crumble.

Your thighs burn, your dress clings to your sweaty body, and the stimulation on your clit becomes almost unbearable as you whine with the need to cum. He hisses loudly into the car, bares his teeth for a second, and then his eyes roll before he’s slack-jawed and panting into stuffy air, a current of groans beneath.

“That’s it, Toji,” you gasp, voice strained as you teeter on the brink of an orgasm that threatens to overwhelm you. “Be nice to me just like you said and give me everything like the good boy you are.”

The hand not on your clit slips against the sweat on your hips, and you lick up the side of his neck, savoring the salt taste of his perspiration on his smooth skin, just in time to hear him. It’s faint and low, practically a whisper but he chants--

‘Fuck yes, fuck yes. So fucking good. Ride me, sweetheart.’

It’s tilted in a whine, pathetically desperate, but the sound of him does the trick because the flick of his fingers on your clit makes the biggest wave of pleasure crash over you.

You don’t get the chance to tell him you’re cumming, you simply yank his head back from the sudden force, tilt your head up to the ceiling and cum with an exhausted and wrung out ‘fuck!’ that you’re sure your uncle’s neighbors will hear a mile down the road. You’re dumbfounded with pleasure, dizzy with it and your belly is hot and simmering as you gasp and whimper at just how good it feels. 

He’s laying you back on the seat before you can catch your breath. You’re still coming down, still moaning to catch up but his large hands are under your knees and bending them towards your chest to chase his own orgasm. The edge of the seat digs into the crevice of your spine, and your hand flies out to smack against the back of the driver’s seat so you don’t fall but it slips with sweat, is hard to hold onto and you can hardly focus with everything that’s going on. 

His mouth is on you, stealing your breath that you still can’t control, swallowing your moans as he fucks you with a ferocity that pulls your soul from your body. He pulls away with a deep moan and stares down at you with a look that makes you anxious—like he wants to see you again, like he wants to come to another cookout with your rowdy family if it means he can bother you some more—like he really likes you. 

You know he’s going to try and say something that you may not be able to talk yourself out of, so you take the intense furrow in his eyebrows and the stuttering of his hips as a cue.

“You gonna cum?” you purr up at him, moaning weakly from the harsh thrusts that stroke you into overstimulation.

“Yes,” he answers without fail, eyes locked on yours. “Yes, I’m gonna cum. Fuck—”

Reaching up, you cup his cheek, unsure why but feeling an inexplicable need, and the words that fall from your lips help him across the finish line. 

“Cum inside me, Toji. Take what you want and fill me up.”

His eyes widen before they roll closed and he’s slamming against you three times hard and rough before the deepest moan you’ve ever heard slips past his lips. He pants heavily stuttering tiny thrusts into you as he comes down, the tips of his hair drip a few drops of sweat onto your neck before he lowers himself to rest on top of you. He’s too big for the seat and his knee digs into the floor of the truck to maintain his balance. His hot breath washes over your neck, slowly calming down, and in your daze, you realize that you’re holding onto his shoulders. 

The hard lines of Toji that you noted when you first saw him now feel gentle against you.

He rumbles your name into your neck and you’re cutting him off before the dopamine can speak for him. 

“We should get back inside before someone finally notices that we’ve been gone.” He abruptly lifts to look down at you, annoyance etched on his devastatingly handsome face. He wants to argue, you can taste it, but your fear wins. “My bitchy aunt has been at me all night, the last thing I need is her snooping.”

He’s quiet still, the edge of his lips curling into a dissatisfied frown. It stretches his scar in a way that takes away from the beauty of his face. Makes him look more alien and you have to pull your gaze from him. But he doesn’t argue like you think he would. He doesn’t speak or try to talk back or voice how annoyed he is.

He slowly pulls out of you and you immediately miss the feeling, ties off the condom, and pulls you up tenderly from the seat. Your skin is sticky and the truck reeks of sex. The high has worn off and all that remains is the overwhelming unease that rises like bile in the back of your throat. 

When you both are finally dressed and creeping out of the backseat, the cool air is a welcome feel to your overheated skin. It washes away your trepidation, if only for a moment. Toji looms over you, tall like a bear that you desperately want to sink your embrace back into, but he still doesn’t speak, and the crease of annoyance between his brows doesn’t leave. He should hold onto it. It will help him get over you. 

“Do you mind getting my purse from inside the house? I don’t want to go back inside just yet and I need to check my phone.”

Impatience emanates from his every pore, yet you can sense his anxiety as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. But he still doesn’t fight and makes his way back inside without a word.

You lied.

Your purse is in the front seat of your car—you threw it up there when you both snuck into the vehicle in the first place, but his attention was too busy trying to feel you up than pay attention to the satchel hanging off your shoulder. 

Once you see the front door close, you get into the front seat, start your car, and drive away without a second thought. Your hands grip the steering wheel tightly as the temptation to turn back tugs at you. 

It may not be right to leave without saying goodbye, and lying to him has left a bitter taste in your mouth. Your family is too occupied with the fireworks and each other’s company to really notice your absence anyway, and you’re sure they’ll have no problem trying to distract Toji when he realizes that you’re gone. 

The grip on the wheel doesn’t lessen, but you roll down the windows and let the evening July air wash away some of the sex that still lingers on the seats.

***

“So you did fuck him,” your cousin snickers over the speaker of your phone a week later. 

It’s a Saturday night and you’re knee-deep in your wash day routine. It took you all day to take out your braids and the clear shower cap on your head traps the deep conditioner inside. You wipe away some of the excess near your ear.

You have Chinese waiting to be delivered, and you’re ready to finish your routine so you can go to bed. Your eyes are glued to your television playing some sort of nature documentary but your attention is elsewhere, specifically on trying to worm your way out of this conversation with your cousin. She’s called you every single day since the 4th and she’s done nothing but make you feel guilty about your abrupt departure. 

As you expected, your family didn’t really notice your absence. But when Toji asked your cousin for your purse and then realized you had lied, he sulked in a lawn chair for the rest of the night before Shiu drove him home.

“Yes, I fucked him. So what?”

“Soooo do something about it. Fuck him again? He lives in the same city as you and is here indefinitely. Make a move—”

“It was a nice night, but he was already trying to flirt with me as soon as he saw me and I still entertained him and fucked him and—I shouldn’t have done that…I should have waited, maybe tested the waters more. He only tried to ask me out because he was horny as hell.”

She’s quiet on the other line, and you look up at the ceiling in exasperation because you can feel her annoying logic rev up before she fires away.

“So you’re just scared? Your ex cheated on you because he was a spineless pissy boy who slithered away because you didn’t take his shit. That’s not a reflection of you, at all. I know you like to have it all figured out before you make a decision, but not everything works out that way. Toji saw a fine ass black woman who talks her shit and he made a move. He’s a nice guy...a little rough around the edges, but truly…a nice guy. Someone for you.”

James Attenborough elegantly voices something about the cuttlefish on the screen while you try to contemplate what to say. She’s right. You hate that she’s right. It’s why you two are so close but still you retort in the best way you know how.

“Girl, fuck you.”

Her raucous laugh vibrates over the speaker in delight and you snort and roll your eyes when the doorbell cuts you off. The prospect of your Chinese food makes your mouth water and you’re rushing to the door.

Only it’s not your Chinese food at the doorstep, it’s Toji Fushiguro. Toji Fushiguro who is protected from the rain under the overhang of your apartment door with one hand in the pocket of his jacket and the other clutching a container. The annoyed look that you last saw on his face is gone, replaced by a neutral and bored look that seems natural for him, even though his eyes don’t convey that specific emotion. Those green eyes are reminiscent of your uncle’s well-maintained lawn as they look down at you with a nervous glint. 

“Toji,” you breathe in disbelief. “How did you get my address…”

Your cousin squawks on the other line and swallows a giggle. “I’m gonna go—”

“Your cousin finally gave it to me.,” he replies simply and gestures down to the phone in your tight grip. “I’ve been trying to get it since you fucking left.”

“Damn, thanks?!” she barks at him. “Lemme get out of here, I’m getting another call anyway. Bye!”

You’re going to kill her. Slowly. Painfully and maybe in front of Shiu to get a few tears out of him if you’re feeling particularly evil. 

You know she’s right about Toji, but you can’t do this. You shouldn’t have fucked him in the first place and you should have thought of a backup plan on the off chance that your cousin was going to be annoying and nosy as hell.

You ignore his intense and heavy gaze, shifting in discomfort, scratch the back of your neck, and blanch in horror when your fingers brush the edge of your shower cap. You’re wearing a large t-shirt, your feet are bare and your head is covered in a shower cap with deep conditioner leaking from the sides; a stark contrast from the calm and collected woman who snapped at him all day a week ago. Mortification washes over you in a heavy wave, drowning your mantra of not giving a fuck about a man’s opinion, and you step back to grab the door.

“Listen…I’m waiting for food and then I have to get ready for work in the morning. So you need—”

“You have time to spare then,” he cuts off and walks past you. You round on him, indignant in your gaze.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?! Get out, Toji!”

“You want me to leave? Hmm?” he asks, goading you like you don’t know if you’re sure.

You’re not sure, but—“Yes, goddammit! I shouldn’t have left but I don’t do this sort of thing! The moment you met me, you only wanted to get in my pants. And that makes you trying to ask me out while your cock is inside of me, a lot harder to believe!”

He firmly places the container in his hands on your kitchen counter, takes a deep breath to calm himself, and gives you a look that either makes you want to melt into him or slap it off his face.

“Listen—”

You’re on the defensive now, backed into a corner and ready to pull every card you have to just make him go away. “You here for a quick fuck then? Because you got me to let my guard down and because we had such a steamy time in the backseat of my truck, you thought, what? You could just show up and bend me over my couch?”

That flicker of irritation is back on his face and it crinkles the edges of his eyes, makes him look nasty and hostile.

“Fuck, will you stop—”

“Wanna have a little ‘situationship’ while you get acquainted with your new life here? Have me get nice and comfortable and as soon as I ask for something more, you’re jumping ship. Sounds like a good plan, doesn’t it?”

A sharp growl leaves his throat and he glares.

“Girl—” he starts and immediately stops, eyes wide as saucers at the venomous gaze that you shoot his way. There it is, a hint of a name to make you feel small and insignificant. It reminds you of your parents when you used to talk back and they slid the name to you in a warning to stop talking. You hate it and it stings that you have to hear it from him.

“Get out,” you bark, seething with a rage that brings a sting to your eyes. 

He throws up his hands in frustration, looming like a bear from his place in your kitchen. “Will you just stop it!”

“I said—”

“Oh my fucking god—I like you!” 

His admission catches you off guard, cutting through your anger, and you stare at him in astonishment. His face is red with embarrassment, eyes trained up at the ceiling as if asking the gods to give him patience. He takes a deep breath before meeting your gaze from across the kitchen.

“You don’t do this sort of thing?” he asks, gesturing between the two of you. You can’t find the words to respond, still too shocked, so you simply nod. 

“What sort of thing is that? Flirting with you because you looked like the sexiest little thing in that backyard and I wanted your attention?” He’s annoyed, deep voice razor sharp as he speaks, but you don’t miss the step he takes closer to you.

“Me trying to make you feel better because your family is judgmental? Teaching me about the food you like because I’m not from here?”

He’s closer now and the air is thin again just like that night a week ago.

“Helping me win that little card game?” It’s spades, but you’re too lightheaded with how close he is to correct him. “Telling me about your family? What sort of thing is that? Hmm? Tell me.” 

You don’t have a retort. You’re too stunned to speak even though you refuse to let the annoyed expression on your face vanish. You want to hold onto what little shreds of defiance you have left.

“You aren’t mean. You don’t tolerate bullshit, you don’t fuck around, and you put people in their place. You refuse to settle for less, and I already told you that’s what I like in a woman…And I like you.”

What do you even say? You never expected to see him again, and your mind is muddled as if you’re submerged in water. Your heart feels too big in your chest, your body too hot and sweaty and you’re nervous. He’s angry with his confession, almost annoyed and you’re beginning to realize that it is an emotion that’s second nature to him even if it’s not as intense as you think it is. 

“Is that right?” you can’t help but test him, lifting a brow. You have to crane your neck just a little to look up at him.

He scoffs, the crease in his eyebrows smooths out and the scar on his lips twitches. 

“Yea, that's fucking right. So…” he takes one more step closer and his body is brushing against yours. He smells mildly of toothpaste and bergamot from another brand of cheap cologne and the combination makes you weak in the knees. “Let me take you out.”

It’s the same demand that you’ve heard so many times now, but this time, it feels more serious, more meaningful with a hint of desperation. In the kitchen light, you can see just how silky his raven locks are and you grip your phone and the fabric of your t-shirt to resist the urge to run your hands through them. 

“I’m listening,” you jest with a practiced air.

That wicked smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth, scar adding a devilish flair to his features, and your stomach burns with the realization that he’s too cocky for his own good, and you’ve unfortunately grown to like it. 

“Shiu has tickets for something here called…football? He’s taking your cousin and has two extra tickets. Come with me and show me how to win.”

You can’t help the snort that leaves your mouth and your stomach flips at the genuine confusion on his face. “We don’t participate in the game. We watch it. But it’s fun.”

“All the more reason for you to come with me.”

“I…”

It’s a compelling argument, all of it is. And you want to, you really want to give this a shot and just be vulnerable for once. Because Toji seems like the kind of man who would let you be just who you are and would never make you feel lesser than about it. 

The feel of his large hands cupping your cheeks pulls you out of your thoughts, and he tilts your face up to meet his gaze. His eyes are mesmerizing, like the color of pine trees right before the sun sets and you feel yourself weakening completely.

“One date, princess.”

The deep timbre of his voice does little to help you and it’s worse because it’s just how he fucking talks. You’re not a royal, and you don’t have land, lots of money, or power, but you can tolerate ‘princess’ if it’s coming from his mouth. 

Just one date. You deserve it. You’ve earned the reward.

You wave away his hands from your face just so you can breathe a little easier. He chuckles but gives you your space, and makes his way to the door that you usher him towards. 

“Fine. Make sure you bring cash because it’s easier at the concession stands. I want a pretzel…and a hot dog.”

He snickers as he pulls his hood over his head, obscuring most of his face except for the ethereal glow of his eyes. His teeth shine from his bright smile and you roll your eyes in response before watching him open your door. 

“Toji?” you call, your voice softer…apprehensive.

He turns around to watch you shuffle to him, your feet and legs cold against the chill from the open door. You hand him your phone wordlessly and he takes the hint to insert his number. When he’s finished, you open your mouth to speak, lips shaping words that won’t come out—words you want to say. But you can’t. Not yet. Maybe one day.

For now, you throw him an annoyed eyebrow lift and grumble. “Parking is a real bitch, so pick me up early.”

You avert your gaze, frustrated at yourself for sounding so mean as usual. Because that’s just who you are. The bitter, mean—

A finger beneath your chin lifts your gaze to him and he kisses you full on the mouth, slow and reassuring, minty breath sliding into your mouth when he nips your bottom lip. The self-deprecating voice in your head finally quiets, smothered by a pillow held down by his scarred hands.

When he pulls away, that stupid smirk is on his face, but it’s not as teasing, and your heart does something weird in your chest that makes you swallow hard.

“Yes ma’am,” he replies finally to your demand.

You watch his eyes take in your form from head to toe before he kisses you quickly once more and ducks into the rain.

When you finally get your Chinese and place it on the counter to dig in, your eyes land on the container that was in Toji’s hands from earlier. 

You peek inside, and your heart does that weird thing again in your chest when you see a heaping slice of the yellow cake that you never got to have a week ago.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter One

Pairing: Black Fem!Reader x Hitman Toji Fushiguro

CW: Profanity, Hints of Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Comfort

Word Count: Don't worry about it.

Summary:

“I’m only going to say this one more time, Toji. I don’t do situationships. I don’t do friends with benefits or the occasional hookup. You want more? I want you to try. Earn me.”

His hands are so bloody, that if you ever knew the source, you would'nt want someone like him to try. He shouldn't be here, taking up so much of your time, asking for more. But he's selfish.

-or; Toji, a notorious hitman, moves to America for more money and a better life for his son. He didnt expect to sleep with you, let alone want more. When his dangerous life catches up to him, he takes on one final lucrative hit, but realizes this target has unseen connections hitting closer to home. Now he must navigate a perilous job while desperately keeping his criminal double life hidden from you.

Authors Notes: Hello! I hope you all enjoy this first chapter. As stated in the masterlist, this fic is a continuation from Maneater, so reading that will definitely help set the tone for this fic. I plan to dig deep with this story and really find my voice writing a different genre.

As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! Enjoy and thank you for your support!

| Twitter | Ao3| Masterlist | Prologue

Chapter Two: Coming Soon...

Dividers: @royallaesthetics @eloquentmoon | Header: created by myself (fanart from Pinterest)

**Do not plagiarize any of my works or translate without my permission!**

…women like you drown oceans -Rupi Kaur

*** You ***

Pop!

The sharp sound of gum expanding and then exploding causes you to flinch, your eyeliner pen frozen just above your lid. Through the mirror’s reflection, you shoot a glare at the open closet door, where your cousin rummages through your clothes.

Pop!

She’s in her own little world. If this were any other circumstance, she would have been scolded for her habit of popping gum—a top offender on the list of annoying behaviors ingrained in both of you since childhood. You detest the sound, and if you were closer, you would have punched her in the stomach by now.

You and your cousin typically get along well, but she enjoys testing your limits to coax you out of your shell. The only way to shut her up is by letting her tire herself out during her talkative rampages or swinging at her when you’ve had enough.

Every day with her is a gamble of which will come first.

Your eyeliner is still hovering by your upper lid, suspended in place as you watch another sundress get haphazardly thrown against the closet wall instead of being put back on a hanger where it fucking belongs.

You can’t bother with trying to get violent with her, you’re way too preoccupied with other thoughts. More incessant thoughts like how to play it cool on a date. It’s not that hard, right? Be yourself, get a gauge of the man trying to impress you, entertain a few hours of your day and then back home to relax.

Easy.

If it were anyone else but Toji, then it would be easy.

You had buried yourself in double shifts and extended hours in the lab just to distract yourself from today. Anything to keep you busy and keep your mind off the fact that someone you are sort of interested in…wants to see you. And he reminds you every day when you look down at your phone.

Despite his admission of being a lazy texter, Toji is surprisingly consistent. But the messages take on a blunt form wrapped around a small pearl of care.

Toji: Eat breakfast. What good are you in a hospital if you pass out?

Toji: Stop taking on more shifts, its stupid. Go home and rest.

Toji: You better not be tired this weekend. 

No matter how hard you try to force your face to stay immobile, each text makes your lips twitch into a small smile. He masks his words in harsh deliveries, but the intention is obvious. The satisfying jolt that shoots up your spine when your phone buzzes with a notification from him should be embarrassing. It should be.

But you love it.

It’s absurd, really. Only two weeks have passed since you met him, hardly enough time to form any meaningful connection. Yet, that night at your uncle’s was unexpectedly delightful. Toji was, against your better judgment, charming and attentive, almost to the point of clinginess. And, undeniably, he’s attractive. And a fucking fantastic lay.

So, despite your instinct to ignore a man and the way they flaunt their feathers for your attention, you want Toji to bring that same energy as last time.

You lean your elbows back into the shiny wood of your vanity, focusing your attention on your eye as you lower the eyeliner to your skin.

Pop!

The sound makes you jump, disrupting your focus and smearing the eyeliner across your temple.

“Rene!” you bark, slamming your eyeliner down on the vanity top with a force that makes your hand sting, and you yank a drawer open in search of a makeup wipe. “Stop popping your gum before I come over there and beat the shit out of you.” As you wipe off the smudged makeup, you catch the reflection of your cousin emerging from your closet.

She embodies a beauty that’s almost blinding, matched only by her lively personality. So naturally, heads turn when she enters a room, her chocolate skin seemingly radiant wherever she goes. With her thick, kinky hair always in a protective style and her unshakeable confidence in her intelligence and appearance, Rene caught Shiu’s attention immediately, and he’s been captivated ever since.

She is one of very few in your family who truly gets you, who sees the world with clarity and understands its nuances and how to navigate through it without compromising her ideals. Since childhood, you’ve stuck to each other like glue. She understands you and your guarded demeanor, you understand her and her loud personality. She’s one of your best friends.

But at this moment, as she stands before you in booty shorts and a tank top that accentuates her curves, her twist out cascading from a pineapple updo, and an outfit draped over one arm, she is pissing you off as she pops her gum againwith a cheeky expression.

“I like your makeup.” A sly grin stretches on her face, enhancing her soft features. You ignore her, feeling your defenses rise as she effortlessly peels back your layers. The liquid eyeliner glides against the smooth brown of your skin, forming a subtle cat-eye as you pretend not to notice her approaching you from behind.

She gracefully settles onto your vanity top, ignoring your lipstick casing that teeters over and rolls across the shiny surface. You shoot her another glare before moving to your other eye. “You should put on some mascara too. When you give him head later today, I’m sure he’ll love to see it run down your cheeks and—”

You swing at her not even a second later, landing a solid smack on the side of her thigh. “UM Ow?!”

“Um?? Shut the fuck up,” you growl, sneering at her with a leveling scowl that you hope cuts through her.

It doesn’t.

Rene snorts, shrugging off the vanity and moving to your bed to change her clothes. As she pulls your dark jeans over her thick thighs, you can’t help but wonder if you should dress more…sexy?  Your jean shorts reveal enough skin, and the jersey fits snugly around your torso. You’re no stranger to dressing to the nines and making heads turn just like her, but you value practicality more than appeal. It’s a football game, after all, and you love football. Why bother looking overly sexy when you’ll be screaming and stuffing hotdogs and pretzels in your mouth?

Despite the logic, a hand of insecurity tightens around your throat.

Rene, like the annoyingly clairvoyant bitch she is, tastes the shift in the air and rolls her eyes at you through the mirror’s reflection. “You look fucking amazing. Toji asked you out—frequently, I might add.”

The memories of his persistence flash through your mind in a rush. Heated touches in the backseat of your truck, sweaty skin sliding against each other, and your mouth dripping with moans of satisfaction were constantly interrupted by his repeated question.

“Let me take you out.”

As if he couldn’t get enough. As if he wanted more. As if he wouldn’t leave your uncle’s house that night until you flat-out told him to leave you alone.

You haven’t entertained a man since your cheating ex, so your defenses remain high and guarded, fortified with brick and mortar, armed to fend off anyone who comes too close.

But in such a short time, Toji managed to advance further than others with hard skin resilient to your attacks, and a constant insistence to be by your side. He’s spoken to you in ways that would have landed others in the ER, yet his words were always laced with harsh care to make you confront your own overreactions instead of hiding.

“Stop acting up and let me be nice to you.”

“You’re not mean to men; you just don’t do bullshit.”

“It’s okay to be a little excited about this,” Rene interjects, slicing through the thick current of your anxiety.

And you are, excited and a little nervous, though you don’t respond to her, simply reaching for your clear lip gloss to finish your makeup.

By the time there is a knock on your door thirty minutes later, you and Rene are ready to go. Your curls are piled high on your head, tendrils falling to frame your face and your hairline slicked with curled edges. There’s a subtle shake in your hands wrapped around the handle of your front door, betraying the calm façade you wear.  As you open it, expecting Toji’s familiar face, you’re met with Shiu, a toothpick in his mouth and a gentle smile playing on his lips.

You greet him warmly with a hug, letting him inside. He can only hug you for a second before rushing past you and toward the direction of your room, anxious to see his fiancé. “Don’t fuck on my bed!” you yell after him, loud enough for your cousin to hear.

It’s only a minute later when there’s a knock at the door that makes you jump, shocking you into reality again as you realize that you haven’t moved since inviting Shiu inside. In your stupidity, you look through the peephole and swallow the gasp at Toji’s distorted form.

“I can see your feet. Open the door,” his deep voice cuts, familiar and commanding.

Your fingers curl against the wooden surface of your door, nails scratching lightly along the veneer as you wrestle with the innate temptation to be stubborn. Besides Nanami Kento—another close friend and coworker—Toji is the only man you’ve let talk to you like this. He’s a little bit of an asshole, but beneath his rough exterior lies a tender core that beckons you to peel back the layers like an onion, eager to feel just how soft the bulb is in the center. You’re drawn to him in a way you can’t explain, and it’s a longing that ignites a hunger that you haven’t experienced in a very long time.

With a resigned sigh, you swing the door open to be welcomed by the sight of him, a picture that leaves you momentarily breathless. You swallow the drool that pools instantly in the back of your throat, curl your toes in your sneakers to resist the urge to spring forward and slant your lips against his, and bite the inside of your lip so the twitching on the sides does not turn into a gentle smirk.

“You look good, baby,” his words roll off his tongue effortlessly, his gaze sweeping over you with a knowing intensity. It feels as though he’s studying a heavily guarded masterpiece that he finally has his hands on to steal. He notices every stroke of paint, every blotch that makes you who you are and it’s with a concentration that leaves you dizzy enough to grip the door tighter in your hands.

Though only a week has passed since you last saw him, his presence still grips you with a force that borders on intoxicating. Clad in a black shirt that accentuates his commanding presence, his broad shoulders exude a magnetic strength that summons you, stirring a primal desire to dig your fingernails into him like you did that night in your truck. One of his hands is tucked in a jeaned pocket, the other is behind his back, and jet-black locks brush his cheeks as he chuckles, undoubtedly amused by the dumbfounded stare that you’re still shooting his way. His scar cradles the side of his lips in a seductive curl as he smirks.

God, he’s so—he’s so—

His presence seems to fill the entire room, a tangible force even without crossing the threshold of your home. An urgent ache surges within you, craving the warmth of his embrace, the security of his strength.

“You gonna let me in or just keep your mouth open for the flies?” His voice breaks the reverie in your mind, a well-known blend of annoyance that fills your chest immediately. You’re reminded of how effortlessly irritating he can be, yet there’s a strange allure in his confidence.

At this point, you don’t have a quip loaded up quick enough to shoot back at him. So, you step aside and hold your breath as his large body crosses the threshold of your home.

The last time he was at your door, he barged inside with a barely contained fury and pulled you into an argument that stemmed from your unwillingness to be vulnerable and his lack of expertise in expressing himself. It was a weird song and dance that marked the beginning of something you still don’t fully understand. Now, he’s here with a slightly different demeanor, calm and self-assured as he plants a firm kiss on your cheek as if he’s a hardworking husband returning home just in time for dinner.

You gape at his nonchalance, watching in disbelief as he kicks off his shoes and pulls his hand from behind his back, presenting you a bouquet of flowers in a manner that feels both rushed and sincere. You look down at the flowers, wide-eyed and blinking to make sure the reality you are currently in isn’t actually a simulation.

Daisies.

Not the cheap, wilted blooms you kind of expected from him, but fresh, vibrant flowers. Their white petals gleam softly, each grain of pollen in the yellow center visible in the light of your kitchen. The stems are freshly cut, wrapped in a simple red bow and your chest is fluttering with a severity that unsettles you.

“I didn’t know what kind you liked. And I don’t trust Shiu with an honest answer so…” His words trail off, leaving unspoken sentiments lingering in the air.

 Your lips curl around words that won’t form, and you mentally sort through your book of tricks. It’s a book you’ve spent years filling after countless experiences. Men will do just about anything for pussy. There’s no reason to be shocked at why they do the things they do—they’re all the same.

But even from that first day you met, you have already shuffled through your book when it comes to Toji. Every time you look up whatever trick he tries to pull, you come up with an empty page. There’s never a solution or a pre-written response that you can use. You have no choice but to figure this out on your own and fill in the pages later.

“If you don’t like them, you don’t have to take them,” he cuts into your thoughts, words edged with a trace of embarrassment that he’s trying to cover up with frustration. “Just give them back—” He reaches for the flowers, and you reflexively pull your arms away, much to your own shock at the way your body moves on its own.

“I like them,” you blurt out, your voice not as strong as you want it to be but thankfully steady as the words leave your lips. “They’re very nice, Toji. Thank you.”

He drops his hand, shoves it deep into the pocket of his jeans before clearing his throat and giving you a sharp nod. His eyes take in your face for only a second before they flit away to focus on a random spot in your living room, a hint of blush on his cheeks that makes the fluttering in your chest pick up in speed. It’s a weird feeling that will consume you if you don’t stay in control.

So, you push it down, swallow the pool of saliva in your mouth so it can help the glide, all the way down to the pit of your belly to extinguish the embers that threaten to lick to life. You shuffle past him and into the kitchen to fetch a vase, your mind sorting through the symptoms of various pulmonary diseases to distract yourself from the giddiness of him getting you flowers.

A normal thing. The bare minimum for a man. But it makes you feel great all the same. They aren’t your favorite, not even close, but it’s a gesture that shatters your preconceived notions about Toji that probably shouldn’t be there in the first place.

“What are they?” he asks, face still pink below his eyes that linger on the countertop instead of at you. You untie the bow at the stems and slide the daisies into an antique vase with crystalline ridges, shooting him a questioning raised eyebrow in response. One of his hands gestures wildly to the vase you are filling with water. “Your favorite flowers.”

“Snapdragons.” Toji throws you a quizzical look, his eyebrows pinched together in a clear display of confusion that makes you chuckle. You push the now full vase of flowers to the center of your kitchen countertop, the sight warming your stomach no matter how much you try to stop it. “They aren’t in season, but there’s a vendor here that sells them in the Spring and Fall. Growing up, we lived right next to a river where they would grow. My father would pick them every year and bring them to my mother as a gift. Whenever they wilted, he picked more and replaced them…over and over until they weren’t in season anymore.”

You dig your teeth into the wet flesh of your cheek to stop yourself from rambling, the need to talk more about yourself is at the tip of your tongue. He’s quiet as he takes in your response, eyebrows twitching with fleeting emotion before they smooth out into their usual calm expression. Maybe it’s your eyes playing tricks, but he looks as if he’s locked away your little nugget of information and is ready to move on to the next thing.

More of you.

That gaze is now free of shyness and taking you in, sharp and cutting and rough around the edges, his green irises sliding down to the exposed skin of your thighs, and they must beckon him because he makes his way towards you with a dominating presence that tightens your throat. He walks around the countertop, avoiding the sharp edge from biting into his side and now he’s standing in front of you, looming and dwarfing you without even trying. You catch a whiff of his cheap cologne—a different scent from what you smelled before—but still rich with bergamot undertones that make you more curious than bothered at his frugal mentality.

“Can I kiss you? Or you gonna smack me instead?”

Even though he’s teasing, he displays the growing knowledge of your boundaries and the lengths you will go to protect yourself.

“What, you want to get smacked, Toji?” you retort, lifting an eyebrow at him, your neck tingling from the strain of looking up due to his height. God, he’s such a big man. Big and burly and just enough to overwhelm you in a way that you crave so, so much.

“Nah. I want a kiss,” he confidently responds, blowing away the cloud of lust from around your head.

He’s too close and yet not close enough. He smells too good, looks too good with a voice that’s too deep and melodic for you to ride on logic for a full day, but you need him closer, so much closer and—

Your back brushes against the edge of the kitchen sink, making you tense at the realization that he’s backed you up against it and is looking down at you with that nasty smirk you entertain more than you should.

“You…” you begin, trailing off when one of his muscular arms reaches past you to rest onto the counter on one side, still giving you an escape route even though you’ll take being trapped against him any time of the day. “You already kissed me on the cheek when you walked in without asking me. Don’t be stingy.”

Toji clicks his tongue in disappointment, the sound pushing a rush of electricity down your spine that’s generating too much energy between your legs. He shrugs, broad shoulders pulling up and down, stretching his shirt in the most delicious way. “That’s not enough.”

Although lust is darkening your thoughts slowly despite your resolve, you still have enough common sense to remember the kind of woman you are. You’re someone unwilling to tolerate fuckboy behavior and would rather humiliate a man than give in to temptation that would only embarrass you in the future. You have to stay in control. Just for the rest of the day to measure his intentions with a level head. Even though you feel heavy with lidded eyes, you slip into that second skin of yourself with ease.

“Ask nicely,” you whisper.

He takes the bait—like they always do—and slinks further into your space, his broad and muscular form brushes against your softer one. Your gaze remains indifferent as he asks to kiss you in a sing-song voice that’s borderline annoying and teasing, threatening to make you laugh despite your resistance.

You take in his question with a noncommittal hum and slide a hand up the soft fabric of his chest. The muscles underneath flex and twitch beneath your palm, echoing memories of that unforgettable night when you could slide your fingers on the sweat of his abs as you rode him for all he was worth.

Your hand rests against his cheek, watching as he slowly falls for your trap, inhaling deeply with his lips a mere breath away from yours before you speak calmly and softly.

“No.”

You stroke his cheek in a soothing manner before patting it a little too hard that’s close to a smack, yanking a grunt of frustration from him as he pulls away with an bothered growl. You relish in the sigh of his scar twisting when his face curls with annoyance, his eyes rolling and his arms folding across his chest like a child being denied dessert. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles from your lips, growing in intensity as his eyes narrow at you.

“You’re so damn annoying,” he pouts, and the fact that he truly looks put off for not getting a kiss only makes you laugh harder.

***

The sight and sound of cheering fans excite you, filling you with childhood memories of games with your father. As the four of you make your way through the large parking lot and in the direction of the stadium, you take in the display of emotions that cross Toji’s face as he is immersed in a part of culture unfamiliar to him. The intricacies of American sports are puzzling to Toji, you realize. While you wave excitedly to the fans who are tailgating and grilling food and playing cornhole, he looks on in disbelief. When you explain the concept of tailgating to him, his expression deepens even more. He doesn’t like the hecklers that litter right outside the entrance and try to sell nosebleed tickets twelve times the market price. He thinks porta-pottys are foul as he takes in the long line of people who wait along the side of the large parking lot. You can tell he’s a little overwhelmed, and aggravated by the new things he learns. But he doesn’t complain, content to listen to the three of you as he watches his surroundings.

Despite the array of emotions that engulf him, he keeps you by his side without a second thought. The closer you get to the stadium, the thicker the crowd gets. When you make it through security and begin the long journey up the stone circular walkway of the stadium, Toji wraps a muscular arm around you and rests his hand on your hip in a grip that conveys a protective strength that shoots fluctuating reactions through you.

At first, you think he just wants his hands on you, and you’re prepared to smack his touch away. But then your perception shifts; a random man bumps into you with a sharp elbow into your arm and he turns around with an angry expression ready to yell. The glare that Toji levels at him leaves the man sputtering and apologizing before he slinks back into the crowd.

Normally, you don’t thrive off blatant displays of masculinity, but the sight of the man running away from Toji’s imposing stare makes your stomach fill with a deep-seated lust that surprises you. Like you’re a cavewoman, watching her caveman beat at his chest when another caveman gets too close to you. Toji grumbles to himself about the sheer number of people, his voice tinged with frustration even though his reassuring touch is gentle as he guides you through the throng of people toward your seats.

Thankfully, they aren’t nosebleeds, and they give you a good view of the field, with players already warming up. There is a large group of kids who hang off the rails, squealing in delight as their favorite players come and say hello and sign their jerseys and footballs. The speakers boom with music and commercial ads, the warm air carries the smell of popcorn up your nose, and your blood pumps in excitement.

It has been a while since you attended a football game, distant memories of sitting on your father’s shoulders as you both cheered in the stands. Since his death, you haven’t had the drive nor the time to attend another. So, to be in this position again with a man you are still trying to understand, it’s odd. But it’s not unwelcome and you’re going to enjoy every minute of it. When you watch football at home with your family, you’re a different person. You are loud and unashamed to express your feelings when you watch the games unfold. You stand up and sneer and bark at the officiant who can’t even hear you. You argue with your family about plays and players who will never know you. You love every emotion that the game brings out in you, and you’re unashamed to hide it. Toji is going to see a side of you that will either push him away or make him slink closer for more.

So, when the game begins with the kickoff, you join in the collective screams of the crowd, waving a towel in the air adorned with the yellow and black of your favorite team that is playing.

To your surprise once more, Toji did his homework. He effortlessly explains the rules as you both watch the first quarter together, looking to you for approval to make sure he’s correct. His attentive nature transforms into active participation as he cheers alongside you, his voice deep and booming compared to your screeching.

In the second quarter, there’s an injury on the field and the clash of pads ceases for long enough that fans leave their seats for food and to stretch their legs. Shiu and Rene disappear to get themselves a drink and it’s just you and Toji in the middle of empty seats.

“You’re a screamer,” he teases, his voice low and appreciative as he leans on his thigh with a cheek resting on his fist. His hair flows in the warm air before settling on pale cheeks.

“Too loud for you?” you retort, even if mildly curious about what he thinks of this side of yourself.

Toji purses his lips as he regards you with relaxed eyes. “It didn’t take me long to realize you’re not a dainty little thing. And besides,” A smile stretches across his face, white teeth glinting with a sinister disposition before his lips load with a remark you know will be salacious. “I like my women loud.”

You can be loud if he wants you to be. Preferably in another place besides your car where he can thrust like a man mad between your legs and dig those gleaming white teeth into the skin of your neck—

Oh.

For fuck’s sake. 

Your blood simmers in your veins at the suggestion in his words. His eyes watch your throat when you swallow a thick pool of spit and that smile grows impossibly larger, a Cheshire cat looking at you with nasty intent. He’s too aware of the effect he has on women, and you have to look away from him to resist succumbing to the seductive charm that he wields naturally.

You steer the conversation back into your hands. “You were so curious about me when we first met but I don’t know much about you. Are you here in America for a reason? What do you do for work?”

In your own line of work, observation is key; every subtle cue from your patients holds significance, revealing layers of truths that they usually try to conceal. So, when you notice the tension in Toji’s jaw at your question, the way his features contort subtly, it’s a detail you slot into a drawer of curiosity that takes part of the file cabinet of Toji in your mind.

“I’m a private investigator,” he confesses harshly, catching you off guard. It’s a revelation you don’t anticipate. His imposing features give you the impression of a firefighter or maybe even a cop. Not someone watching others in his car, bugging houses and apartments, and gathering evidence. A PI? You open that drawer of curiosity again and slot away this information as well. He shrugs away the awkwardness that your silence brings, nonchalant and dismissive, avoiding your gaze. “It pays the bills. The hours suck sometimes but…the work is easy.”

“So…naturally I can’t really ask about the things you do?” you don’t hide the inquisitiveness that coats your words.

“It’s nothing glamorous enough to talk about.” And that’s all he offers you in response.

You have a myriad of questions swirling in your mind, each vying for attention from a man who is as tight-lipped as you. How did he even get into this kind of work? Who are his clients? Cheaters, embezzlers…or criminals?

That and so much more brew in your mind, tumbling over the other but ultimately dissipating when you sense his reluctance, evident from his still-averted gaze and tense shoulders.

“What about family? You asked me about mine, but I never got to hear about yours.”

Granted, you only told him about the members of your family who danced in your backyard when you both were wrapped in one another two weeks ago. He doesn’t know about the more intimate parts of your family life. He doesn’t know about your father’s death, or the estrangement of your stepfamily. But that can come later. Toji hasn’t given you enough of himself.

Toji’s features now morph into disdain, souring the air between you. The bright emerald of his eyes dims with a grayish overcast, the liquid of the irises hardening like cooling lava.

His response is terse, laced with palpable displeasure that intensifies the acrid taste in the air. “There isn’t much to tell. I don’t get along with them, and they do their best to not get along with me either.” The timbre of his voice is lower, menacing enough to let you know it’s a subject he won’t entertain. At least for right now.

You open your mouth to speak again, to maybe apologize for making him uncomfortable, to reassure him that you wouldn’t judge him over something like this. He shifts in his seat, clasps his hands together and absentmindedly picks at a callous on the side of his thumb. The pink flush on his cheeks is not one of bashfulness, but of frustration and embarrassment. From the sliver of his eyes you can see, there is something simmering beneath the surface that might take you a while to unveil.

 “I do have a son, though.” The sentence shoots into the air and down your spine with a chilling clarity, breaking the flow of your thoughts as you blink in astonishment.

Pardon???

Considering he’s a grown man a few years older than you, it’s understandable. But the notion of him being a father never crossed your mind. The concept of children isn’t foreign to you; you see and take care of them every day. It’s the concept of children coming from him that’s a new development you have to consider.

While you believe you can handle a relationship with a single father, you’re upset at being told now, rather than before.

“You were with me all day two weeks ago and you never took the time to mention you have a son?”

You don’t hide your irritation. Once your trust is lost, it’s almost impossible to regain. Why would you give away sacred pieces of yourself to a man you wouldn’t trust to hold those pieces with care?

Despite your frustration, you rationalize.

Maybe Toji was nervous to bring it up? Some people may like to ease into such topics. This relationship, or whatever this is, is brand new and smooth. There haven’t been any cracks caused by arguments or behavior that is damaging.

But this isn’t about having a job that he’s not proud of or admitting that he is not financially responsible. This is about an entire child, a facet of his life that he cannot hide away. How long would he have waited to tell you if the topic of family hadn’t come up so soon? Would he have told you? Would he hide his son away and push him off to a babysitter on date nights so you are never aware? Would he sleep over at your house, so you can’t see the room that’s decorated for a child or the toys scattered about the floor?

As you wrestle with the growing anxiety that crawls across your skin, Toji fumbles for something in his pocket, his face a satisfying beet red as you watch him hand you his open phone. Bright from the illumination of the screen, you take in a picture of a young boy who bears a striking resemblance to Toji. His raven locks spiky and disheveled, his green eyes sharp and ethereal, and he wears a bored and calm expression just like his father. The chubbiness of his cheeks and innocence in his eyes tug at something in your chest; he can’t be any older than six years old. The sight of the boy makes you think of the many kids you take care of every day, and some of the frustration subsides within you.

“His name is Megumi,” he informs you, shy despite his rough exterior. He picks at the callous on the side of his thumb again, and one of his legs begins to shake in place.

The frustration dies down more. It’s a beautiful name, and as you look at the picture, a small smile tugs at your lips. You wonder what kind of a boy he is.

“Fuck listen—just I-I’m shit at this.”

You look up at him and take in the apprehension on his face. His lips are downturned in a gentle frown, the scar on the side of his face warped along with the muscles of his mouth. There’s a sense of shame in his gaze, and it somehow makes you feel relieved to know that he can feel just how upset you are.

“I don’t date women…I fuck them and stay around until they want me gone.” He doesn’t bother to sugarcoat his words. They shoot out of his mouth, piercing your skin with their directness. It’s a little painful, and you struggle to absorb his blatant honesty, feeling flashes of anger and indignation fill your chest as your lips part, ready to respond with directness of your own. “But you’re the first woman in a long fucking time that’s made me want more. So just…” he trails off, stuttering over what to say before ultimately growling low in his throat into silence.

You hesitate, lips flinching and syllables of fury dissipating in the small space between your top and bottom lip. “You gonna let me meet him?” you snap because you’re still mildly irritated as you give him his phone and pinch the muscle of his bicep with a harshness that reflects your fading anger and your desire to see him squirm for his actions.

He swats your hand away as if you’re a pest, moving his arm from you with a sneer that holds no malice. “No let me just lock him in my closet every time I want to see you—of course, I’ll fucking let you meet him.”

You throw him a withering glare, ignoring his sarcasm, and the smirk that slides onto his lips only makes you want to either smack or kiss him. The fact that you can’t decide on which only annoys you more.

*** Toji ***

“Gimme two hot dogs and a pretzel,” Toji mutters to the concession stand attendant. It’s halftime, and the walkways behind the stands are crowded with fans hurrying to go to the bathroom, or for more food and alcohol. You stand close to him, a welcome warmth that he wants more of but refuses to ask for on the off chance you deny him. He doesn’t feel like pouting for the rest of the day.

“And what’ll it be for the lady?” the attendant asks with a level of humor that is off-putting, a smile on his face that Toji knows you itch to smack off.

“It is for the lady,” you correct, a hint of condescension falling from plush lips that you still won’t let him taste. The attendant sputters, his face red as a tomato as he takes the rest of Toji’s order, doing his best to ignore the deadly glare you shoot him as he counts Toji’s money. A snort rattles from Toji’s chest as he watches you. He’s known from the beginning that you’re fiery, but seeing it firsthand fascinates and arouses him at the same time.

This environment is different for him, odd in every way, and a foreign ground that he’s unsteady on. The celebratory atmosphere reminds him of the loud laughter and fireworks from festivals that he could hear outside the Zenin compound throughout the year. He thinks of the Tanabata festivals he never got to experience or the years of Hanami that he was forbidden to enjoy. He could only take a small bit of pleasure in cherry blossoms in the Zenin gardens, blooming and scattering their petals on the well-kept grass to mark the beginning of the season. As a child, he was never allowed much. He was seen as ‘inferior trash’ that was insignificant and unworthy to be looked at let alone talked to unless it was to yell or belittle. Naturally, his family didn’t want others to see where said trash came from if they could help it.

He can’t think about it right now—he won’t. The thought of his family brings a tight coil of pain and anger in his chest, a coil he had used as fuel to cope with his dangerous decisions.

There’s so much more that he needs to focus on, like the fact that you’ve already taken a big bite out of one of your hot dogs. Half of it has disappeared from your hand, and there’s ketchup on the edge of your mouth as you chew. He notices the way you shift your hips from side to side in your seat, and the satisfied hum that escapes your throat. You’re satisfied, and while you eat with manners, you don’t hide your boisterous enjoyment, finishing one hot dog and moving on to the next, your pretzel wedged between the meat of your seductive thighs.

He’s been trying to be respectful all day ever since you denied him a kiss in the kitchen, but you’re tempting him. When you answered the door earlier in the afternoon, the hand that was in his pocket pinched the side of his thigh until the shameless thoughts could fade away.

You’ve graced his presence with shorts and a jersey, a yellow and black number that lays against your chocolate skin in a way that still seems to make you glow in the setting sun. No braids this time, your natural curls have fallen from your bun after screaming so much, framing your face and causing your gold hoops to wink at him. You didn’t wear makeup that night when he met you, so the sight of eyeliner on you today, and the way it accentuates the curve of your eye and the heaviness of your long lashes, it makes him shift in his seat.

He’s had to clench his jaw and bear the pain of his teeth grinding against each other to stop himself from ogling at the mouth-watering canvas of your legs. You’re all curves with dimples at the bottom of your thighs when you sit, and his gums ache to sink into the flesh so you can squeal and beg for him to touch you where you want it most. It’s been weeks since that night and he’s feigning for more. When you smile at him or shoot him a glare, it reminds him of that commanding aura you had in the backseat of your truck, and the back of his neck prickles with sweat.

While the thought of you skinning him alive if he decides to be a Neanderthal turns him on, he wants to be civil. In your kitchen earlier today, you allowed him to get close enough to feel the heat radiating from your skin, to catch the scent of coconut from your curls, tantalizing his senses until your firm ‘no’ sobered him up immediately. It was a stark reminder of who you are, and how little you tolerate.

He'll behave.

His eyes catch you guzzling down five heaping gulps of your beer, the foam coating your upper lip. You wipe it away with your finger, sucking the digit into your mouth, and popping it out completely oblivious to how sinful you look and Toji’s catapulted into that day when you sucked your own cum off his fingers.

He has to behave.

The vibration of his phone in his pocket sours his mood immediately, turning his gaze from your form as he digs into his pocket. It’s the third time it’s buzzed today, and he knows who it is. No matter how hard he tries to ignore it, he can only put off his job for so long.

Unknown: Good job on the assignment last week. 

Unknown: Your pay should be in your account by tonight.

Unknown: There’s another contract for you if you’re interested. Message me back and I’ll send you details.

“Everything okay?” Your voice pulls him from his phone, and he meets your curious gaze, one of your elegant eyebrows lifting in question as you assess him. “Something with work?”

“Yea,” he replies and regrets it immediately.

Lie #1

It’s not a complete lie—it is work—but the details…

Toji takes a long swig of his beer, attempting to soothe the shame that washes over him.

You really are a screamer.

Toji sits back in his seat, watching you with a wicked smile as you unleash a torrent of colorful language that makes his cock twitch. Even though you roar with the crowd, your voice rises higher.

“That’s a fucking flag! I should come down there and officiate for you instead you stupid piece of shit!”

Your curls brush the skin of your cheeks that puff in your frustration, your arms folding across your chest as you cock your hip and growl beneath your breath. You’re easily the loudest one in this section of the stands. Rene revels in it, egging you on by rooting for the opposite team and giggling when you bark at her. Shiu is content to watch the display, a fresh toothpick in his mouth and an arm over Rene’s shoulders as he idly twirls a lock of hair at her nape. You’re all yelling and sputtering indignation as you watch the game unfold, your team losing by what Toji has learned is a touchdown.

He knew this side of you was there. He could tell in the weight of your gaze that night. It's a side of you that he did not expect to see so soon. He soaks it in. He takes in the way you cuss out the man three rows down who won’t stop glaring at you. He absorbs how high-pitched the screech of your voice makes his eardrums shake, and he revels in the smile that forms on your lips when your team scores the game-winning touchdown.

When there are lulls in the game, you tell him about your career. You’re a pulmonary pediatric fellow at a hospital here in town that’s only a year and a half from completing your fellowship. You smile when you talk about the kids you take care of and your associates at work. You’re proud of your research and of how far you’ve come.

All of it, every part of you that you show him, is comforting. Warm despite how cold you appear. It’s a comfort he didn’t imagine having…ever in his life—especially a dreary life like his. But he soaks up this—you—as much as he can.

When the game is over, you’re elated and giggling, tucked into his side as he guides you through the drunken crowd. The moon is high in the sky, and it bathes your skin and makes you stand out in the crowd. You look up at him, smiling softly with a buzzed gaze that’s two beers deep.

“Did you have fun? Not bad for your first American game?”

“You screamed the entire time,” he teases, chuckling at the way you gape up at him and then sneer before turning away. He throws his arm around your shoulders, using the touch as a safe territory to keep his hands to himself, and pulls you closer.

You demand cotton candy which he indulges in as well before you both part ways with Rene and Shiu. The journey back to your apartment is a quiet one. As Toji drives, the warm July air fills the car, mingling with the faint strains of classic rock playing on the radio. Toji watches with flickering glances as you hum along, your eyes closed and the breeze wafting through your curls loose around your shoulders.

Something inside of him rattles. Whatever it is, it’s long-forgotten and buried deep within him, surrounded by cobwebs and dust that have accumulated over time since that dark day years ago.

*** You ***

From the short journey of his car to inside of your apartment, you repeat to yourself that you have to take this slow, for your own peace of mind.

You keep the most intimate parts of yourself locked away and only those who are worthy of you have a copy of the key. But somehow, and in such a short time, Toji has stolen a copy for himself and slotted the key into the door. But thankfully, the door is caught against the wall, hinges rusted over and ungiving.

You have to know more about him before you let him in to look at those parts of you. If you jump the gun and give him more so soon and end up hurt, it will throw you into a depth of pain that you promised yourself to never touch again if you could help it.

“You have a good time?”

Toji’s voice breaks the silence, his arms folding tightly across his chest, betraying the restlessness in his hands. His messy black locks, tousled by the late July humidity, partially hide his emerald gaze, which flickers briefly to meet your own before darting away.

Your socked feet pad across the hardwood floor, closing the space between you, and your head slowly tilts to look at him. Despite his façade of composure, his scar curves against his lips in a slight twist, twitching as he tries not to frown. Thin eyebrows pitch down in frustration, and you catch the way his fingertips drum against the skin of his biceps. He’s fidgety—nervous. Is he upset with himself? Ashamed that he couldn’t take you out on a proper date with dinner and a movie like everyone else expects?

Hopefully, he will learn that you go against the grain of proper in so many ways.

“I had a great time,” you confess softly, noticing the subtle relaxation in his stance at your words. The thrumming of his fingers stop, the tension in his shoulder fades. “You wanted to take me out and I let you. That all you want from me?”

He’s such an expressive man.

His face twists, perturbed by your bluntness and the prospect of delving into emotional territory. “I told you already that I want more.”

His declaration sends a fluttering through your heart that is reminiscent of the feeling you had when he surprised you with a slice of yellow cake. It’s comforting, and you want to lean into it. But it’s not enough to overwhelm you. You’re still in your right mind and still aware of your expectations even though he captivates you.

You press your finger into the firmness of his chest, hard so that the muscle pillows around your digit. The gaze you shoot up at him is unyielding, serious, and menacing enough that he straightens his spine just a little.

“Listen to me, because I’m only going to say this one more time. I don’t do situationships. I don’t do friends with benefits or the occasional hookup. I’m not saying things need to be serious with us but…you need to show me that you mean it.”

As you speak, you assess Toji, who shows no signs of amusement or ignorance. His posture is rigid, his back ramrod straight, and his deep green gaze locked onto yours.

“That night we had was great. I won’t deny that but…I won’t compromise my expectations and I don’t tolerate bullshit. I’m not going to let you fuck me just because we did it before. You want more? I want you to try. Earn me.”

You relish in the way his eyes widen, contemplating your words and the severity beneath them before his face smooths back into its usual cool demeanor. He unfolds his arms from his chest, and you curse inwardly at the way you immediately watch his shirt stretch across defined pectorals.

“You know you’re a feisty little thing.”

Heat from the way he speaks and annoyance at his lack of attention flare within you like wildfire. You open your mouth to yell, to bark at him to be serious, but the sound of his laughter extinguishes that fire inside of you instantly.

He doesn’t offer an apology for his comment and you don’t need one. You know you’re feisty and steadfast. It’s the only way you can function around men to survive, to stay afloat and still have a grasp of who you are. And if Toji couldn’t handle it, you definitely wouldn’t have slept with him or entertained a date that you thoroughly enjoyed.

“I’ll try,” he finally offers, voice soft but filled with conviction. Normally the small remark would offend you, but surprisingly coming from Toji, it’s enough.

Observing his behavior today and a little bit two weeks ago, you note his acceptance of your quirks and individuality—at least the bits you allow him to see. He marveled at the amount of food you ate and joined alongside you. He let you babble to him about every single player on your favorite team and how many championships they had won. He let you display your strength in your voice and personality, didn’t try to control or overshadow you like so many other past experiences you’ve had before learning how to rule the men in your life.

He let you be yourself.

And that thought makes you finally open your mouth to give him something he had asked for earlier, something you had previously denied despite your own desires.

“You can have your kiss,” you offer with a shrug, feigning nonchalance even though your heart picks up in speed as the implication registers on his face. “So you better do it right.”

It’s an invitation that he snatches away from your imaginary hands and tears open with thick fingers, greedy and growling with finality.

His sharp gaze traces the contours of your body, unabashed in its appraisal, leering at the pieces of skin visible to him. You know he’s been looking at you all day, but his observation now is intense, heavy and without reservation and you’re fumbling from the sudden rush of longing that pumps hot through your veins.

Toji inches closer, your hands instinctively find their way to his chest, his towering presence overwhelming your small stature. His height ignites an evolutionary desire in you that makes your mouth water, makes your cunt pulse with need beckoning for him to fill the mold he left inside two weeks ago. You’re still not used to climbing up the summit of him, so the air is thin once more, pulling the oxygen from your lungs and stuttering in your chest when a large hand cups the side of your neck and tilts your face up to him like an offering.

When his lips slide against yours, your fingers in his shirt tighten. His touch singes the ends of your nerves, boils the blood in your veins that pump fast throughout your body. Your skin is burning, searing when muscular arms hoist you up and wrap your legs around his thick waist before your ass is sliding on the cold marble of your kitchen counter, your lips still sealed against his.

There’s so much of this that feels like that night at your uncle’s. So much and yet not enough.

He drowns you with his touch, digs his fingers into the plump flesh of your thighs before yanking you, hard and with unforgiving impatience, closer to his body. The fabric of your jeans rubs too harsh against your wet panties, digs against the sensitivity of your clit and you repress the insatiable yearning to roll your hips against his.

Toji’s large hands slide up your body, traversing the mesh of your jersey that hugs you before cupping each side of your face again to tilt you sharper in the way he wants. Blue raspberry from the cotton candy you both indulged in after the game coats his tongue that licks your bottom lip in a silent request for entrance, and you grant him access, surrendering a whimper into his mouth as his tongue slides sinfully against yours. Tastebuds kiss your own, slide against them with whispered promise of satisfaction if you just relax and melt further into him. Just a little.

But you can’t, god you can’t.

You’re losing control and you have to stay strong. You have to stay above the waters of logical thinking even though you’re sinking with every stroke of his tongue, with every sweet, hot breath into your mouth, with every inch of flesh that your fingers dig into his chest because you need more. More than a kiss, more than what he’s offering, and you know he can give it to you. Toji can pull you into the inferno he’s raging inside of your body until your clothes are scorched off and his skin is sliding against yours sweaty, sticky, and undulating with every roll of his hips.

But he doesn’t give you more. He doesn’t pull you further into that fire.

The intensity of his kiss dies down slowly, his lips pulling away from yours with a wet smack as you pant along with him. Toji kisses your lips once, then twice, nips your bottom lip to seal everything he’s given before smirking down at you. Too devilish and arrogant and you don’t have a working brain cell in your head right now to correct him. His hands that cradle your cheeks slide down to your upper arms, giving them a gentle squeeze before he speaks.

“You still gonna let me be nice to you?”

His words are an echo of that night, his own way of telling you that he’s here. That he wants more—that he wants to give you more. You just have to let him.

With your head still swimming and the pulsing between your legs refusing to calm, you want him to be more than nice right now. But remembering the boundaries you have set, you nod instead and sigh into him when he kisses you one last time, sweeping his blue raspberry-flavored tongue against yours before pulling away, acting as though it’s nothing, as though you’re not sweaty at the small of your back and trembling with desire.

“Lock the door for me,” he commands, words devoid of a questioning tone, but filled with a sense of security and protection that you lean into.

“O-okay,” you manage to breathe, your heart slowing back into sinus rhythm, only to jump again as he places one final kiss on your lips, then your nose. You frantically bat him away before you lose consciousness, because any more and you’ll drag him into your room and disregard everything you said five minutes ago.

 You watch him saunter away, pull his keys from his pocket, and twirl them in his hand before winking. “I’ll text you.”

It sounds so ridiculous coming from his lips, from a grown man who looks as if he doesn’t even know what a cellphone is, let alone a text message.

But it still makes your heart jump all the same.

You can only nod in response because your throat is too dry and heavy in the back of your throat with each swallow you take. You follow him to the door and roll your eyes at his annoying smirk before he closes the door behind him, casting your apartment into silence.

Your fingers wobble as they turn the locks of your door into place. You’re lightheaded, brain flitting through salacious memories of what you both did weeks ago and what you could easily be doing now.

You throw your back against the door and sag to the floor with an annoyed sigh.

*** Toji ***

Unknown: There’s another contract for you if you’re interested. Message me back and I’ll send you details.

Toji: I’m interested. Send me what you have.

DEBT, CHAPTER SIX

➣ warnings: yakuza boss!toji fushiguro x black coded reader, mentions of sex, mentions of sex work, profanity, gang violence, yakuza au, baby!megumi, drug mentioned, alcohol usage, drug usage, stripping, ➣ chapter summary: toji's adventures during naoya's annual pool party.

➣ tags: @maydayaisha @eiflawriting @ihateliyah @galaxness @ceeriusly-dumb @stephanythedramaqueen @littlemochi @babe-im-bi @todo7roki @thicksimpx @whatdidhesayyyy @hellavile @imperatorkhaleesi @etaerealboy @caribbeanwifey19

[ masterlist + previous ]

THE WAY TOJI RAN HIS BRANCH AND THE WAY NAOYA RAN HIS BRANCH WERE INSANELY DIFFERENT. When Toji entered the room many people bowed out of respect, but when Naoya entered the room people bowed out of fear. Maybe that’s why the two couldn’t coexist in the same branch as it was supposed to. Technically, the two of them were supposed to run the same districts together. However, the two had different ideas, hopes, and morals regarding the way their branch should have been run. Forcing the branch to eventually divide into a Toji side and a Naoya side. Which was followed by his family choosing that Naoya was the best route to go because you don’t get power without striking fear in people’s hearts. 

So that’s how the Fushiguro branch was created. He had to start over due to the fear Naoya struck in the current men's hearts. Toji became completely iced out of a yakuza gang he helped build up and soon his family as a whole. He didn’t mind. It was one thing he knew how to do and that was build something from nothing. Now he controlled districts with running such a little gang. He didn’t do it by beating up people and forcing local shop owners in his districts into submission. He did it in a respectful way where people greeted him with kindness and respect because they genuinely respected him. 

Maybe that’s why a lot of men stopped by where he was sitting during Naoya’s infamous pool party to greet him. Bowing their head out of respect and wishing him well before leaving. A glass of scotch was in his hand as he was pretending to enjoy the alcohol and his surroundings. The scent of an expensive cigar lingered up his nostrils as he sat back into the cushions of his seat. His dark eyes stared at where Naoya and Y/N were across the backyard. His skin was heating up in jealousy as he watched her put sunscreen on Naoya’s back. Toji’s nostrils flared so harshly at the sight. Toji asks the woman to give a lap dance to a low-rank member of a gang that involved her touching the guy. He had no problem with that because it was just some bottom-of-barrel guy from another gang. But this was Naoya. 

He was a manipulative condensing asshole. 

“His behavior will be his downfall,” Shui Kong would say as a young woman was placed in his lap. 

Despite him sporting the darkest color shades, Toji knew that Shui was giving Naoya the dirtiest look. Shui Kong was a very well-respected man in the industry of gangs and thugs. Toji has much respect for the guy considering he mastered many things like selling ancient art pieces and such on the black market. He had Japan’s black market in the palm of his hand. Shui even dodged an assassination attempt once or twice. “I can’t believe your family is allowing such an idiot to run their branch. It’s practically a suicide mission,” Shui would sigh as he watched Naoya and the young woman he was with a glance in their direction. 

Toji would lift his glass at the two before he eventually put the glass down on the table in front of him. His lips twitched in annoyance at how close Naoya was with Y/N. He could only inhale sharply and exhale. After all, he was the one that told her he couldn’t get attached to her. He was positive that getting jealous at her touching Naoya in such a provocative way would fall in the category of getting attached. His thoughts were interrupted by Shui once more, “How are you holding up Toji?” He asked.

Toji’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. He was forced to sit up in his seat to pay attention to what Shui asked. “What do you mean?” He asked.

“With taking care of Megumi now that his mom is gone?” Shui asked. “You didn’t properly grieve. The day after her funeral, you were out working and creating big moves.” 

Toji was growing so annoyed at the fact that people assumed he didn’t grieve over the death of Megumi’s mom. Why was everyone assuming that he didn’t properly grieve? Everyone grieves differently. If his way of grieving was continuing to grow an empire so Megumi can grow up to have something to fall back on, then be it. 

“I’m fine. I’ve grieved and Megumi is good.” Toji answered as he glanced around the backyard. His eyes finally met Nanami’s who standing near the back door of the huge mansion. “Now would you excuse me, I have to handle something quickly.” 

He approached Nanami who would walk back into the house. The majority of the people who were littered around the place were either drunk out of their minds, high, or both. Before disappearing into Naoya’s office, they were sure that no one was around. When the two were in the office, Toji started glancing around searching for something. He knew the majority of Naoya’s secret spots in his mansion. Only cause he was the one to help him design it that way. From the secret stash of guns under his walk-in closet floorboards to the safe built behind that silly portrait of Naoya. Toji knew Naoya like a book and it wasn’t because he’s grown up with him. It was because Toji somewhat shaped Naoya into the way he was from head to toe. 

His fingers traced alongside the old books that most likely were never touched by Naoya. Despite the books most likely having never been touched and there for decorations, no dust particles stained Toji’s fingertips. At least he kept his office nice and neat. He was mumbling a little rhyme he and Naoya made up to decipher what book to pull out for the secret door to Naoya’s chambers to open. When he finally got to the book, Toji tugged the book out and both he and Nanami could hear a sound. The loud creaking motion rang through their eardrums as they watch the bookcase slide right open revealing Naoya’s torture chamber. 

“How’d you know what book to pull out?” Nanami asked as he looked at Toji. 

“Just some silly rhyme we made up when we were close,” Toji said as he was the first to step into the darkness of the secret room that Naoya had hidden. 

A room that was meant to hide his riches, was now a secret layer of him torturing anyone that disrespects him, owe him money, and so much more. Toji knew that a lot of people had to die in this room, but the room still smelled as if someone scrubbed it down wonderfully with the most powerful lemon-scented cleaning supplies. He and Nanami didn’t 

“Do you think Y/N will be okay out there considering we just disappeared on her?” Nanami questioned as he was looking around the empty chambers. Even though it was so hot outside, it was so cold in the room they stood in. 

“She’ll be okay. The necklace she has on has a camera in it and Haibara will notify me if something is going on.” Toji answered as he was looking around. 

“You put a camera in a necklace? You don’t think that would break her trust with you? I mean, you could at least give her a heads-up.” Nanami said as he flashed his phone camera on a bulletin board. His eyes scanned over the details that were pinned on the board and such. 

“It’s for her protection. It’s not like I don’t trust her being around Naoya. It’s Naoya, I don’t trust being around her.” He sighed as he looked through a box that was in the corner of the room. He was searching for any sign that Y/N’s father has been there. However, he still wasn’t gaining any luck. 

Maybe Naoya moved him before the party. 

“Hey, come look at this,” Nanami said out loud as his head motioned to the bulletin board. “Is your cousin hunting someone down?” 

“Not that I know of. If he is, this person probably owes him money,” Toji shrugs as he also pulls out his phone to flash his phone light onto the bulletin board.

“But the guy in the photo doesn't look like he’ll owe someone money,” Nanami commented. He took note of how expensive the guy looked. 

The bulletin board was practically filled with photos of this mysterious man by himself, with women, with politicians, with bodyguards. He looked important. Toji couldn’t put a name to the face and Toji knew practically everyone. This man in the photos, Toji did not know, and that frustrated him. Especially given that Naoya was investigating him heavily, so why was he so important?

“Just take a picture of everything, we’ll have to figure out why Naoya is so interested in this guy. Maybe this guy has Y/N’s father.” Toji said as he glanced at the door. He was intensely listening to if someone was coming into the office.

Nanami was doing as he was told, taking pictures of everything in the room. “We should find out if Y/N’s father owes any other people. It’s as if we’re all racing to see who got him first and this guy is probably the one who has him.” Nanami explained as he glanced over at Toji who was flipping through some folder. 

It was paperwork with every person who owed Naoya money. From people to local shops in different districts. Toji took note that no one from the districts he controlled was on the paper. He wasn’t sure if people were just smart enough to not borrow money from Naoya or the fact that Naoya knew not to step foot into his districts without Toji’s knowledge. “Y/N’s father…” His eyes looked closely as he saw the name crossed up using a red pen. “His name is crossed out on the list,” Toji said.

“So, he paid his debt off to Naoya but not you?” Nanami asked as he was done taking pictures and he would walk towards Toji. “Does it say when he paid it off?” 

“Two days after borrowing money from me. That idiot.” Toji said through gritted teeth. He would take a picture of the paper before putting everything back. 

“Let’s get out of here, we collected enough evidence to give us some starting points with this situation. I’ll alert Y/N that she can leave now, but for now, we should go.” Toji firmly said.

Nanami would nod in agreement before he led the way back out of the office. The two of them quickly closed the door and made sure everything was back to normal before eventually joining the party again. Nanami was the first to leave due to him getting a car from his fiancé. While Toji was leaving after sharing farewells to other respectable yakuza gang members. Even though he was walking with his back turned, Y/N was standing among his deadly family with her head held up. 

Toji had left the pool party as soon as he saw his driver pull up. His mind is racing with so many theories. From the bizarre idea that Y/N’s father was stupid enough to borrow money from different gangs to pay off debts to Naoya investigating this mystery man that Toji had no clue about. But more importantly, Toji knew that he had to ask Y/N  about her father. His mind was hoping she didn’t know anything about her father and his troubles. He didn’t think she would lie about that. So why did Naoya have pictures of her father if he wasn’t in debt with him? They collected as much evidence as they could collect using their phones before eventually leaving. Once Toji was back home with just him and Megumi in the house, he grabbed the iPad that Yu Haibara gave him if he wanted to see what Y/N was seeing. He remembered texting her that she could leave the party now, but not come back to his house. Since he had suspicions that Naoya would have someone following her. Instead, go to the five-star hotel he booked her a room at. 

When Toji pressed the app that Haibara told him to use, he didn’t see anything. It was pitch black actually. He thought that maybe she had the necklace in her purse so it wouldn’t get lost during her adventures at the pool party, but when he saw someone hold the necklace up, his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. 

There Naoya was holding the necklace up with a mischievous grin on his face. Toji could see that he was in his office and the low chatter of his men gloating about the women they bagged at the party echoed out the iPad’s speaker. 

“Boss, whose necklace is that?” One of Naoya’s men would ask. 

“Hm, just a friend. I’m positive she’s a friend of my cousin’s. I just don’t have enough evidence to prove it yet.” Toji would hear Naoya say. 

“Did you want us to find out where she works?” One of his guys asked.

“Yes, I have to return the necklace someway. So don’t fuckin’ sleep until you find her.” 

Toji closed the app with a quickness. His fist clenched so hard that he felt his nails digging into the inside of his palm. That damn Naoya. He was always one step ahead of him and he hated that. 

DEBT, CHAPTER 9

➣ warnings: yakuza boss!toji fushiguro x black coded reader, mentions of sex, mentions of sex work, profanity, gang violence, yakuza au, baby!megumi, drug mentioned, alcohol usage, drug usage, stripping, naoya being naoya, ➣ chapter summary: naoya and y/n attend a charity ball where y/n comes face to face with an old flame.

[ masterlist + previous + you can aslo read it on ao3 ]

YOU CLUTCHED AT NAOYA’S ARM SO TIGHTLY THAT YOU WERE PRAYING YOU WEREN’T HURTING HIM. You were so nervous. More nervous than your first night at the club when you met him. Naoya gave a rundown of many things. From the names of some people that were attending the event to some topics to avoid talking about if he wasn’t around. You understood the risk of being alone, but Naoya thought it was a bit risky to have you follow him around all evening. Especially given his personality of being very much a people pleaser for a party. You could feel the pad of his thumb rub against your palm as he collected your hand into his, “Just relax. It’s just a ball filled with money-hungry important people,” Naoya gives you a slight grin as he leads you further into the venue.

“Do you have to mingle with anyone tonight?” You glanced over at Naoya as the two of you made your way further into the venue. 

The venue felt like you were stepping into one of those magical ball scenes in a tv show. Even if had the sparkling chandelier twinkling above the guests as they mingled with each other. Servers were waltzing around with trays of finger foods and champagne. There was an open bar on the far right of the room. The ball oozed with wealth. No matter if you were new money rich or old money rich, every person you glanced at had some form of wealth. 

“Yes, this man that has three restaurant businesses in my district. I want to talk to him about cleaning some money using one of his restaurants.” Naoya’s eyes scanned over the place as the two of you made it to the bar.

“Oh.” You said. You didn’t want to question more on the topic of cleaning money. Although you were associated with both him and Toji for some time now—you would prefer to not intermingle anymore in knowing about their illegal activities. 

You and Naoya intermingled as the night went on, making subtle jokes about people that walked by you two. 

“So, have you and Toji ever been close?” You asked. 

“Yeah, we were actually. We were supposed to control the Zenin branch together, but you know us. We both have different values and goals in life,” Naoya explained as he looked over at you after picking up a drink from one of the trays the server had. 

“So what went wrong?” You asked as you looked at him. 

“Family.” Naoya drowned his drink. 

You wanted to ask more questions, but Naoya had seen the owner of the restaurant he was talking about. “You’ll be okay alone for a second?” He asked.

You picked up your champagne glass and nodded. “I’ll be okay. Just exploring and pretending to care about rich people's problems.” You gave him a sly smile before sipping at your champagne.

Naoya had disappeared for a moment to talk to the restaurant owner in one of the districts he controlled. That only led you to stare at the people in the ball. Mentally counting the faces of the men and women that have been customers at your job. That was until your curious eyes landed on him. The face you haven’t seen in so long until you saw him outside the cafe. It was such an odd sight seeing him here. Has he grown taller? More muscular? Has his sandy brown hair grown? You couldn’t tell from the corner you were in. 

While you finished your drink, you soon felt that he was returning your gaze. You realized that you couldn’t have him approaching you like this, especially in front of everyone. You placed your glass on a nearby table and made your way toward the bathroom. When you stepped into the bathroom, you pushed open each stall to be sure no one was in there. It didn’t take long before you heard the door swing open and soon the lock. Just as you got to the last stall, you could hear the bathroom door get pushed open. 

There he was in front of you. Asahi Endo. Leader of the Endo gang that was causing chaos in many other people's districts. Also once was a  loyal customer that adored putting yen bills in your bra and he made you feel like one of the most cherished women in his life. Until he disappeared without a word. 

You hated to admit that he looked good tonight. His suit was tailored perfectly. His hazel-colored eyes shimmered under the bathroom lights and if you concentrated hard enough—you could even smell that cologne you were familiar with. His sandy brown hair was combed and gelled back and even you could tell he hated his hair that way. Even with months passing by, you still felt like you could read the man in front of you like a book. 

“Well, it’s so odd seeing my favorite lil dancer here.” Asahi clicked his tongue as his eyes stared you up and down. Completely drinking in your looks as if you were a fresh bottle of wine imported from Italy. 

“We have lost our connections for you to call me your little dancer, Asahi. Let’s cut to the chance, you know what I’m here for. You should have expected this when you saw me outside that cafe.” You explained. 

Asahi's back was leaning against the bathroom door as his eyes were lingering on you. “You’re here because you want to know about your father? Right?” 

Your eyes narrowed at him before you glanced in the mirror to fix your makeup. Obviously, that’s what you were here for. You weren’t here to mingle with politicians and CEOs who most likely spent a Friday night in the club you work at. 

“Didn’t expect you'd show up with a Zenin to get this information. I don’t think this is the right setting to tell you what happened to your father because Y/N, it’s a long story. But you deserve to know, just not in a setting like this and when you look so breathtaking...” Asahi said as he could hear knocking on the door and soon Naoya’s voice.

“Hey, asshole! I will cause a fuckin’ scene in ten seconds if you don’t leave this bathroom with her.” Naoya shouted.

Both you and Asahi could hear Naoya’s counting down. “He’s being serious about what he said, you know?” You asked. 

“I don’t care if he throws a tantrum, it’ll only cause him to look silly,” Asahi shrugged as he stepped forward, completely ignoring the jiggle of the doorknob. He dug into his perfectly pressed suit bottoms and extended his phone for you to take. “If you want to know more, give me your number.” 

“If you want me back into your life Asahi, just say that. No need to get into my head about my father because I have had it up to here with this bullshit with my dad.” You sighed, but you collected his phone and you didn’t even notice that when you grabbed the phone you put in his PIN just like old days. It unlocked as soon as you put the PIN in.

It was the same as when you two were extremely close. He never changed it. 

You pushed that thought out of your head as you put your number in his phone and handed it to him. “I want to know what happened to him before the end of the week Asahi, it’s the least you could do since you did leave without saying goodbye.” 

That pierced Asahi’s cold heart as he watched you leave the bathroom just in time as Naoya was about to pull his gun out from his waistband to shoot at the knob. You didn’t even want to question how he managed to get a gun through the security you two had to go through. 

You collected Naoya by the sleeve dragging him away from the bathroom. “I gave him my number so we can discuss my father. But, I’m positive he’s already dead.” You stated as you looked at Naoya.

Your emotions were getting the best of you as you were standing around the glitz and glamour of this ball. Your father was most likely swimming with sharks at the moment, but it was only a consequence of his actions. Who the hell borrow money from different yakuza and tries to pay other yakuza back with said money? He was such an idiot for that. You just wanted to know what was the money for because it damn sure wasn’t for you. 

“Why would he want your number if your father is assumed to be dead? What wants you to come collect his body parts or something?” Naoya bluntly asked. 

“I don’t know, but you said you wanted to know why he has a prostitution ring in your district right?” You asked as you looked at Naoya and he already knew the look you were giving him. 

With your cute pout and innocent doe-eyed look, Naoya let out a stressed sigh digging his hands further in his suit pockets. “Toji is going to fuckin’ kill me if I agree with you on this.” 

“He’ll be okay. I’ll get some information  that benefits him also.” You walked forward to clutch on Naoya’s arm. “I just flirt with the guy, find out some information that benefits us all. It’ll be like taking candy from a baby.” 

“You do understand that neither I nor Toji has an alliance or connection with this guy and his gang. You’ll be all alone in his territory if you flirt your way in. Plus, many of his men will have suspicion on you since you’ve been seen with me.” Naoya explained. 

“And if something happens to me, I’m sure you and Toji will burn the city down until you have whoever head, right?” You asked while peering up at him. 

“That is true. However, my point still stands. This is very different from Toji sending you in to seduce me simply cause I know Toji.” 

Naoya could only stare at you as his words were going into one ear and leaving out the other. He was aware that your mind was fully made up, but he had no clue that you and the leader of the Endo gang were quite close then you were putting on. 

“Fine, but you’re telling Toji of this plan. I’m only going to say I tried talking you out of it two times.” Naoya commented. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the host of the ball has requested a final dance with his wife, but it is urged for others to join to express your love through such a romantic dance.” You heard a voice blare through the speakers followed by the sound of a slow song for couples to waltz to. 

This type of dancing wasn’t your cup of tea, so just as you were making your exit with Naoya—someone grabbed a hold of your hand tugging you back on the dance floor. You went to yank your hand away, but the gentleman only brought you closer to his body as you waltz around the room. It was Asahi back to bother you after not seeing your face for years. 

As you were getting twirled around the center dance floor, your eyes were searching for Naoya. You managed to find him completely fuming on the inside. You weren’t sure if he was upset at how Asahi was holding onto your body or if he was jealous that he snagged you up for the final dance.

“I’m sure your date hated the fact that you chose to do this silly dance with me.” You said while looking at him. 

“I actually came to this boring ball alone. Just came on behalf of one of the councilmen.” Asahi explained while he would pull you closer. 

“Wow, you really are still that very important guy.” You sarcastically responded. 

“I have my reasons.” Asahi answered. “Just like you have your reasons that you’re here with a Zenin.” 

“It’s really none of your business who I come with. I told you what I wanted and you’re playing games.” 

You could feel Asahi’s hand on your lower back as you two waltz around the dance floor. You felt his fingers tracing alongside your lower back, similar to how he’ll trace your g-string when you would sit on his lap as beautiful as ever in the club. It sent a chill down your spine as he twirled you and brought you back to his broad chest. You could feel Naoya’s eyes boring into your back, most likely seething at the fact that he wasn’t the one to have the final dance of tonight with you. 

“You know, I remember our nights together.” Asahi’s words came out as smooth as you remembered. “You sitting all pretty in the passenger seat of my Porsche.” 

“Hm, that was before you left without a word,” You respond as you gracefully let your fingers intertwine with his. 

You heard him chuckle before he spoke once more, “Ouch! Almost bruised my ego right there!” 

You looked up at him meeting those alluring hazel eyes. “Just reminding you of what you did.” You admitted.

“Don’t dwell so much on the negative, I’m sure you remember the good times. The fancy dinners, the joy rides in my sports cars…” Asahi’s voice trails off as he doesn't break your gaze. “The mornings, nights, and afternoons of you moaning out my name.” 

As soon as Asahi mentioned that it caused you to wiggle out of his grasp abruptly. His lips curled into a grin as he let you go not wanting to cause a scene, “Say hello to Toji for me.” He says before walking away from you with not another word.  

Naoya automatically grabs hold of you, his grasp on your arm as he’s moving towards the exit of the venue. The way Asahi looked at you, it didn’t take long for Naoya to piece the pieces together. He knew that it was history between you two. Naoya was jealous. But at the same time, you knowing such a dangerous man like the leader of the Endo gang meant you were wrapped into the life of the yakuza way before you met Toji. Then on top of you suggesting flirting with Asahi for more information, he felt like you were hiding so much. 

When he saw his driver pull up, he instantly opened the door. “We have to go now.” His voice was stern as if he was holding back something. His only goal was to get away from this venue quickly. 

“The party isn’t even over yet.” You pointed out and you watch Naoya roll his eyes. 

“I don’t care, we need to go. Now please just get in.” 

You did what you were told, lifting your dress slightly to help yourself in the car before Naoya is climbing in behind you. The ride back to Toji’s place started with silence before Naoya broke it. “Y/N, I want you to be honest with me. How do you know the leader of the fuckin’ Endo gang?” 

Naoya didn’t raise his voice. But his alerting tone caused an eerie feeling to travel down your spine. You couldn’t lie considering the amount of times Asahi and you interacted with each other tonight. You were searching for words to say, but you knew that only giving Naoya silence could make him even more frustrated. He probably couldn’t even trust you anymore, even with Toji and himself being smitten with you. 

“We used to be involved with each other, but I didn’t know he was the leader of the gang. I swear!” You said to Naoya. “He was one of my first loyal customers at the club and he just disappeared one day. I never saw him again after one night.” You explained.

“You should have told us this when I showed you the picture of him,” Naoya said.

“I didn’t know how you guys would react.” You argued back. “You probably don’t trust me, but I swear I didn’t know who he was.” 

Naoya let out a sigh as he loosened up his tie. His head back and he could only glance out the window of the passing buildings as the driver was speeding down the freeway. “Obviously, he didn’t give you that much information on your father since he wants to be such a fuckin’ flirt?” 

“I gave him until the week to contact me and I still want to go forward with my plan.” You explained.

Naoya let out a sigh. He had managed to make some connections for the Zenin branch, but you had made no progress in finding out more information about her father. Other than giving your number to an old fling. Naoya knew that it was simply his fault for disappearing within the night for his gain, but you did tell him you could handle yourself and urged him to go mingle with crooked politicians. “Driver, stop the car!” Naoya demanded. 

The car halted so quickly and you glanced at Naoya as he was climbing out of the car. At this point, you guys were in an area near a lot of nightclubs and such. “Where are you going?” You asked as you leaned over before he could shut the door.

“I need a drink and to go home to start planning some moves,” Naoya said as he looked at you. He would tell the driver to make sure you got to Toji’s safely, but before he closed the door he looked at you with such an intense look. 

“Y/N, I’m telling him you know Asahi, but it’s up to you to tell him how the hell you know him,” Naoya stated. “Cause, Toji is going to see fuckin’ red if it’s Asahi who tells him he knows the woman he’s interested in because he fucked her.” 

With that, Naoya closed the door leaving you there with your thoughts. Your thoughts on how you could tell the man that you were falling for that you had relations with another man that could be plotting to bring down the whole empire he created.

DEBT, CHAPTER 10

➣ warnings: yakuza boss!toji fushiguro x black coded reader, mentions of sex, mentions of sex work, profanity, gang violence, yakuza au, baby!megumi, drug mentioned, alcohol usage, drug usage, stripping, naoya being naoya, smut is included in this chapter ➣ chapter summary: an engagement dinner party ends in a quite interesting way that leads to something new between toji and y/n.

➣ tags: @maydayaisha @eiflawriting @ihateliyah @ceeriusly-dumb @galaxness @stephanythedramaqueen @littlemochi @babe-im-bi @todo7roki @whatdidhesayyyy @hellavile @protectpancakes @dazaisfavgf @etaerealboy @tojiswhore1 @bbgiirrll @aasouthteranoswife @caribbeanwifey19 @lilith412426

[ masterlist + previous + you can aslo read it on ao3 ]

YOU KNEW THAT YOU COULDN’T LET YOUR EMOTIONS GET THE BEST OF YOU TONIGHT. With the news that Asahi told you, you just wanted to curl into a ball. You were trying to tell yourself that your father wasn’t that much of a low life to do that, but when you met with Asahi he had that one look on his face. Even though you haven’t seen him in a while, you could still tell he wasn’t lying to you. He wasn’t the type of person to come up with a lie as huge as what he told you. You just couldn’t stop thinking about that last moment when your father called you that day. Was that moments before he was about to die? Maybe he was calling you to say his final goodbye. 

As you were walking around the restaurant making sure everything was okay before people arrived, you felt like you were so out of it. You even tried calming your nerves with glasses of champagne while you placed name cards near everyone’s seat, but that didn’t help. So instead, you buried yourself into tasks you technically hired people for. The thoughts still were swirling around in your head constantly and you were afraid that fancy cooked meals and expensive alcohol were not going to tug this feeling away. 

You sat down at the table in a popular ramen restaurant. You remember Asahi used to always bring you here after work because it was the only thing that would be open after your dreadful shifts. The both of you enjoyed ramen while he gracefully massaged your swollen feet under the table. You picked this location for a lot of reasons. For one, the two of you were familiar with this location. Then on top of that, it was in a district he controlled. 

You glanced up seeing him walk into the restaurant. He saw you and waltzed over after saying hello to its owners. He also had a folder with him. He sat at the table with a sly grin on his face, “So much for going down memory lane huh?” He said with a chuckle as he picked up the menu.

“Cut the bullshit Asahi, you know what I’m here for.” You said as you looked at him. 

“Fine.” He said with a sigh.

“So, start from the beginning. How the hell do you know my father?” 

“Before I begin, do you want to order a bottle of sake or something?” Asahi asked. “What I’m about to tell you, you probably won’t believe it, but I have evidence to back it up.” 

“Just get on with it, Asahi. I have an event to go to and I have to prepare for that.” 

“Fine, suit yourself cupcake.” Asahi flipped open the folder and he started to pull out everything. “Your father was in debt, lots of it! I never really understood because he had a pretty decent factory job, but everyone has their own temptations you know. Mine is cars and pretty women. Your father’s temptation was sadly gambling. He went around different districts collecting money from these yakuza and loan sharks for his temptations and it went down from there. He even paid off some debt with loans from different yakuza gangs. Which was extremely dumb, but it’s whatever. You’re probably thinking, well Asahi you must have finally caught up with my dad and put him out of his misery.” 

You rolled your eyes at the way he was telling the story. 

“Well, that is semi-true. But, your father went to one last person to try to see if they could help with his debt and it wasn’t me.” Asahi explained as he pushed the photo towards you.

You leaned forward and saw a picture of the councilmen that Asahi mentioned to you at the charity ball. “I’m confused.” 

“Your father was a very loyal worker to the councilman's son when he worked in that factory. Like very loyal, practically a fuckin’ lap dog. Not a good one though considering that they backstabbed him at the end, but they are key members of what I’m trying to explain.” 

“But aren’t you associated with that councilman? Why should I trust you? You could just be a lap dog just as much as my father was,” You eyed him suspiciously before Asahi let out a loud laugh.

“I’m doing that to figure out where my twin sister is, silly.” 

“Twin sister? You have never mentioned a twin sister to me like ever. Now that I remember, you hardly spoke about your family at all other than your mom.” You leaned back into your seat.

“We came here to talk about your father, not cut down the branches on my family tree.” Asahi sighed. “Now back to what I was saying. Y/N, everyone is crooked in Japan. No matter who controls what? What job occupation they have, just know they are crooked and the politicians are the most crooked ones.” 

A bottle of sake was placed on the table along with some glasses. You watched as Asahi pulled some in the glasses and slid a glass towards you. “Take a shot because you’re going to need it.” 

You rolled your eyes before grabbing the glass and drowning the alcohol. “Now continue because I don’t have all night.” 

“Y/N, this councilman and his son are in charge of prostitution rings in Japan. They pay some gangs to keep the girls and guys in check, but they’re the puppeteer of it all. You may ask, where does your dad come in on this scandal? But your father was providing a large number of foreigners for them in exchange for them to pay off his debt with multiple yakuzas.” 

You felt your heart drop in your chest and the most hideous knot form in your stomach. You grabbed the bottle of sake and pulled another drink of it, this time not being afraid to fill the glass up a little more than what Asahi first gave you. You took a long sip from the glass before placing it down. “What the fuck?” You asked out loud. “I just…he could have come to me. I would have fuckin’ helped him get out of this. Why would he stoop so low..”You felt your heartbeat quicken and your breathing grow uneasy. 

“Woah there darling, take some deep breaths. I can stop talking about it if it’s too much.” Asahi stared at you with worry in his eyes.

“No! I need to know what else happened.” You said. You could feel your eyes burning with your tears of frustration.

“I managed to get to him before any other yakuza boss snatched him up off the streets. I didn’t know he was your father until he started blabbering about the prostitution shit,” Asahi explained. “He kept talking about how he was almost done with his quota for the councilman. Mind you, he was explaining this as he was scared shitless.”

Although you knew how this story was going to end—you still were anticipating how your father’s story came to a close.

“So as he’s rambling on with tears in his eyes and snot coming down his nose. He’s describing how he only had to give the councilman son personally— one more girl, one more foreigner and that that girl was you. The only reason I knew that was because he showed me a picture of you in his wallet pleading that if I take you to the councilman—I’ll get my money plus some. I just saw red and couldn’t stop Y/N.” Asahi took another shot and leaned back into his seat.

“Granted, we did drift apart and I stopped showing up leaving you into the dark with a lot of shit in my life. However, I couldn’t continue to visit you in the club knowing that I knew why your father was in debt, how he was about to clear all that debt away, and how I was the one who watched him take his last breath.” Asahi admitted. “That’s why I disappeared.” 

“But he called me? He called me and he sounded frantic as if he was in danger.” You said.

“Well, he couldn’t have called you when he was with me. When I found him the only thing he had on him was his wallet. Maybe he called you before we found him 'cause he knew the one man who he thought he could trust threw him to the wolves,” Asahi shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t feel bad about killing him. He was going to sell you to clear his debt, how fuckin’ horrible do you have to be to force your daughter into something she doesn’t want to do.” 

“Where is my father’s body?” You asked. 

Frankly, with what you were hearing, your father didn’t even deserve the grave spot you reserved that was right next to your mother’s. He was better off where ever Asahi had thrown his body. 

“It’s buried where no one can find it and that’s all you need to know. I’m sorry for hiding this away from you and I don’t want the burden of your father’s debt to be on you. So I went ahead and cleared his debt from my organization and paid off his debt with other yakuza branches that I have connections with.” Asahi explained. 

“Asahi…” 

“No, it’s okay. If you need help with the other debt your dad owes—let me know.” Asahi answered. 

Just like that, Asahi collected his photos and such and left you at the table after paying for the bottle of sake you guys drank. You were stuck with the thoughts that your father was dead, some of his debt was paid off due to his cruddy crimes, and Asahi paid a good portion of it off.

Soon guests were arriving and you had to push everything you knew about your father to the back of your mind. You were going to try your hardest to mask your emotions for tonight. Even though you spent precious hours letting out soft sobs on your pillow trying to cope with what your father’s true intentions were. He was planning on selling you to a crooked politician to clear his debt. How selfish could he have been? You wanted to ask Asahi where he buried your father’s remains, just so you can spit on his grave out of anger. But tonight, as you said to yourself, was about a lovely couple that was celebrating such an amazing thing.

As more guests started to arrive and crowd up the restaurant, you were making sure that everything was picture-perfect. You glanced at yourself in a luxury restaurant mirror that was near the bathrooms rubbing your red lipstick-covered lips together. Despite the last-minute dress change, you looked very beautiful tonight. The nude-colored Versace strapless dress hugged your figure perfectly. You had many men that were in attendance heads turning to glance when you walked by them, but soon their eyes would avert elsewhere when they knew who you were.

“That’s Toji’s.” One would say. 

“Yeah, he’s one lucky guy.” Another would add. 

 You didn’t even have the energy to correct them. You weren’t Toji’s. However, from the outside—it sure looked like you were his. When you walked into the meeting room where a lot of Toji’s business was handled, a lot of men graced you with respect. You weren’t sure if it was because Toji made it known that you should be respected, but you weren’t going to complain. You appreciate them for looking after you even though they most likely viewed you in the manner where Toji met you at. On a pole and in the skimpiest outfits that left little to the imagination. 

“I just got word that the couple is on their way,” A person approached you and said.

“Okay, is everything ready? Has the chef started prepping for the appetizers? I need everything to be perfect.” You said.

“Yes, you can relax and have fun now. You did a wonderful job planning this for them.” One of the workers said with a smile. 

When you mentioned the idea of the engagement party to Toji, from your knowledge you told him to let you handle everything. Toji being Toji just gave you his card and stated, ‘anything for Kento and Farahi’. You were never shy to collect Toji’s card, he usually insisted you did. You manage to book out the restaurant where Nanami and Farahi’s first fancy date was at. It had an open bar, an open dessert bar, and the best of the best with made-to-order food from an exclusive menu that Nanami helped create. You didn’t notice how tense you were until the worker urged you to relax. You let out a deep sigh before thanking the worker and eventually letting your body let loose. Finally, push the thought of your father out of your mind for tonight and focus on the party for Fahari and Kento. 

Your YSL heels clicked against the freshly waxed floors as you saw a familiar duo you haven’t seen in a while. It didn’t shock you to find one of them at the dessert table. When you approached them, you would cross your arms over your chest. “Did you even eat dinner yet, Satoru?” 

“Uhh—totally. Two glasses of champagne are enough.” Gojo joked as he smiled at you. His crystal blue eyes peeking at you through the shades that hang on the bridge of his nose.

Geto was sipping on some liquor as he was eyeing people around the room, “Can’t believe he’s getting married. Love is really in the air,” he sighs happily.

“Yeah, that means you two are next.” You nudged both of them since you wiggled your way in between them. 

“I’m predicting it’s you,” Gojo says as he looked at you. His eyes stare at you then ahead.

“You think so?” You questioned. “I don’t see wedding bells in my future.” 

“You also didn’t see any of this in your future either, so..” Geto’s voice trails off before he goes to sip at his liquor once again. 

“That is true,” You sighed out now thinking about the fact that your life changed drastically. “How were the missions you guys were sent off to do? I missed you two so much. You guys missed it, Toji cooked for me.”

You watched Geto and Gojo stare at you most confusingly. Gojo finished the cake pop he was nibbling on and grabbed another glass of champagne to wash it down with, “Toji…cooked?” Gojo asked. “That’s hard to believe.”

“Yes.” You repeated. 

“He hasn’t cooked in the kitchen since Megumi’s mother passed,” Geto uttered as he looked at you. Now it was his turn to nudge you, “You got our boss being all soft and shit,” He chuckles.

You could feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment at Geto’s comment. You just felt that Toji’s feelings about you were going to change as soon as you get the courage to tell him about Asahi. You knew that Naoya most likely told him about your relationship with the leader of the Endo gang. This morning before you left to run errands and meet with Asahi, Toji was as quiet as ever while moving around the house. He didn’t even offer to drive you to your destination, just told you to pick up a set of car keys and take one of his cars. Was he disappointed in you for keeping something like this from him? Perhaps you hurt his feelings because he knew deep down why you would know Asahi. It wasn’t rocket science to piece the pieces together. You had to talk to him as soon as he arrived, but for now, you wanted to catch up with Gojo and Geto. 

“How was the mission?” You nudge both of their sides trying to get some information out of them.

“Fuckin’ wonderful. You should have seen me, Y/N. I was a complete superstar in that meeting with this dude from a cartel in Brazil.” Gojo gloated. “Plus, I didn’t think my Portuguese was that good. But, good thing I paid attention being home-schooled.” 

You grinned up at Gojo as you hugged his side, “I’m so proud of you. I’m sure all of this is going to pay off and your parents are going to be excited to hear that.” You said. 

“I hope so, those guys down there surely can drink,” Gojo said as he remembered the faint memory of Geto and himself going out with some of the members. 

“So, where do we sit?” Geto answered. 

“Well, we’re at that table right there.” You pointed to the table that was closest to the tables where Fahari and Kento would be, alongside their families. “It’s you two, myself, Toji, a woman named Shoko, and Naoya.” 

“You invited that piss-colored-haired idiot?” Gojo asked.

“He kinda invited himself and I told Kento I could just give him a different address and you know how he is….he just said it’s okay. As long as I keep my dog on the leash.” You said throwing your hands up. “He’s an okay guy, may say some questionable things, but he’s tolerable.” 

Gojo and Geto stared at you as if you’d grown an extra pair of arms and a head. “I’m not sitting next to him.” Gojo quickly waltzed over to the table to switch the name cards around. 

With you and Geto not far behind him, you started to speak once more. “He is the reason I finally got the closure I have on the situation with my dad. While you two were gone, we found out who's the head of the Endo gang.” 

“Is your father dead? Are they responsible for his death? Let us know now and we’ll go get it back in—” Geto’s words were interrupted by you. 

“It’s okay. I think I should tell everyone another time.” You said out loud. “Faharai and Kento don’t deserve their night ruined for something like this.” You forced a comforting smile on your face that you knew both the two men in front of you knew that smile as fake as ever.

They didn’t argue against your words, but they sat at their assigned seats after switching the cards around. Now you were sitting in between Naoya and Toji at the circular table. You sat down at the table to rest your feet, mentally cursing yourself for not bringing any slides to put on when the night would die down. “Have you guys talked to Toji? I left out before him to make sure this place was ready?” 

“Yeah, he said he was on his way. Megumi puked on his shirt.” Geto answered. “But that was about fifteen minutes ago when I spoke to him.” 

Your lips parted to speak, but when the couple of the evening arrived all eyes were on them. Rightfully so because Fahari and Kento complimented each other very well. You could feel how much they cared for each other just by the way their eyes twinkled brighter than the ring that was on Fahari’s finger when they looked at each other. The couple decided on color coordinating a dark red color, similar to an expensive bittersweet bottle of red wine. The couple walked into the restaurant with a huge smile on their face as the guests of the party started greeting them. 

“They work so well together, you know?” Geto spoke up as he was fiddling with the fork that was on the table. 

“They do, remember how nervous he was before their first date.” Gojo chuckled.

“So nervous he brought four different bouquets.” Geto snickered. “He was a nervous wreck.” 

As Geto and Gojo were talking, you saw Toji arrived not too long after Faharai and Kento. You have to remind yourself to congratulate them once more, being engaged is something that should be celebrated. Especially in a cruel world that seems like it lacks love in the first place. Toji spotted you near the table and slowly started making his way through the crowd of people, a car seat in one hand and a diaper bag hanging from his shoulder. He finally approached the table with a slight smile. “Sorry, we’re late. He puked on my shirt.” He admitted as his head motioned down to little Megumi.

Your eyes traveled down at Megumi in the car seat gleefully kicking his legs and reaching out his arms for you to pick him up. You couldn’t help but smile, noticing that the Fushiguro boys were matching. Megumi even had a baby bow tie also. Toji had placed the car seat on one of the chairs and began to unstrap Megumi, who was gaining the attention of passing guests. Many of them were cooing at how adorable he looked in his attire tonight. 

“Have you spoken to Naoya any time today? I can’t get in contact with him for some reason.” Toji said as he finally picked Megumi up from his car seat. The dark-haired baby now was admiring his newest environment while his father was holding him. 

“I texted him asking him what time was he coming, but I didn’t get a response from him.” You admitted. 

Was Naoya still upset over you knowing Asahi? It had to be that, but then again he would not just leave you in the dark. He’ll give you some half ass response as a text or even leave you on read before not responding to you at all. 

“That’s odd, he told me what happened at the ball,” Toji admitted. His piercing green eyes watched as your expression changed.

“Toji, I can explain—“ Your words were cut off when you heard the squeal of Megumi's name.

Fahari had joined you two and she instantly could tell she had cut in a very odd time. She gave a smile at Toji and then at you and soon just scooped Megumi out of Toji’s off. You could tell Megumi was very familiar with her with the way his laughter was so loud when Fahari was blowing raspberry kisses on his cheek. “I’m stealing these two away, Toji. We’ll be back.” She says before smiling at him. 

“Uh, okay. Just make sure he doesn’t get drool on his shirt,” Toji searched through the diaper bag and grabbed a bib to give to Fahari.

“We won’t be gone for long, I just need to get to know your friend some more. You know, a friend of yours is a friend of mine.” Fahari motioned for you to follow her as the two of you traveled further to the back of the restaurant that was meant for lounging. 

You sat down on the soft chair letting out a sigh. You were grateful that Fahari interjected. You didn’t even have a clue about how you were going to tell Toji about your relations with Asahi. Frankly, you were going to wait until after the dinner party—but he had just had to bring it up at a moment like this. 

“I just had to get you away from them guys.” Fahari chuckles. “That’s kinda the lifestyle when you’re with someone like Toji. It’s pretty nice to have another girl around here,” Fahari says as she was bouncing Megumi on her lap. “I don’t think we properly met yet, but I know so much about you. I’m Fahari.” 

“I’m Y/N,” You said as you looked at her.

Why did it feel like you were being interrogated? 

“I know who you are,” Fahari said in a stern and demanding voice causing you to swallow the nervous pit that formed in your throat.

Soon the woman burst into laughter, “Oh gosh, I’m joking with you, Y/N. I do know who you are, you’re the one who planned all of this.” 

“No, your fiancé did.” You tried to lie but Fahari only chuckled.

“I know you did.” Fahari glances over at Nanami who was talking to Gojo and Geto. “If he did, he wouldn’t have looked so relaxed right now. He would be so worried that everything is perfect for me that he’ll look like he hasn't slept for days.” She chuckles. “Thank you. With what they do, we never actually have time for shit like this.” 

“You’re welcome,” You smiled at her. “Someone has to be the example of a happy couple around here.” You joked.

“Oh, so you and Toji aren’t a thing? The way Nanami described it, you would think you two are fucking..” Fahari’s voice trails off before she looks at you.

You caught her drift immediately, “No, we’re not. Oh my god! No! I’m just helping him with some stuff.” You soon realized how crazy that sounded also.

“Whatever you say, Y/N.” Fahari chuckles. “As I said, any friend of Toji’s is a friend of mine. However, if you do anything that puts him and this little one in danger—I can’t guarantee that I’ll be as nice as I am right now.” 

Your eyes met with Fahari’s and you would only nod. “I would never put them in harm's way. So, you don’t have to worry about anything. Frankly, after I’m done with what Toji wants me to—it’s best if I disconnect with them anyway.” 

Fahari chuckles, “I said something similar when I found out about Ken’s occupation. A fuckin’ second lieutenant in a yakuza gang thought he was a literature professor or something. But, I just couldn’t leave him, you know?” Fahari shrugs. “Fuckin’ gangstas and their soft side, huh?” 

Now it was you that was chuckling, with every dangerous man that had stepped into your life—they all showed a side to you that you were sure their enemies never saw. Perhaps, it was time for you to admit that you weren’t going anywhere. Although you were sure that the debt was slowly decreasing—you highly doubt Toji would even let you out of his sight once you tell him what your father's plan was. You were attached and hardly put up a  fight to detach yourself. 

“We should get back since I’m pretty sure they’re beginning to serve food.” Fahari would stand up leading the way back to the dining area of the restaurant. She returned Megumi to Toji so she could speak with her other guests, but before parting ways she says. “Be sure to get my number before you leave, I be needing some girl time around here.”

You smiled at her. “Same, do you know how awkward it is third wheeling with those two?” Your head motioned to Geto and Gojo and Fahari chuckled. 

“I have picked drunken them up from a karaoke bar before so yes,” She chuckles before giving you a sly wave and going to the table that was meant for her and Kento.

When you took your seat, all of the guys turned to look at you. “What?” You questioned as you sipped at the glass of champagne that the waiter placed in front of you. 

“Did you guys talk about Toji?” Gojo’s fork pointed at you.

“No, we talked about you.” You sarcastically said. 

“Satoru, please give the woman some space. Plus, it’s none of your business.” A brunette woman sat down at the table. 

Gojo rolled his eyes before he’s motioning between both you and this woman. “Y/N, this is Shoko. Shoko, this is Y/N.” 

Shoko would give you a sly grin, “The gang’s neighborhood doctor, sadly.” She forces a fake smile before grabbing Geto’s glass of champagne and chugging it.

“You could have got your own!” Geto spoke up.

“Doctor? So, you also work in a hospital?” You asked. 

“Occasionally, I do travel and work in hospitals. But for now, I have my own private practice,” Shoko says. “You know, for people at this table.” She adds. 

“Shoko has stitched me up too many times,” Toji nudges you lightly with a grin.

“And I’m so glad since you had Megumi that you have toned down getting hurt. You’re already pushing retirement home age, don’t need you to get there any quicker by getting stabbed again.” Shoko says as she glanced at the menu for dinner tonight. 

“Stabbed!” You exclaimed as you looked at Toji.

“It’s a very long story,” Toji says. “I’ll tell you the story and even show you the scar another time.” He had placed Megumi’s pacifier in his mouth. 

“I remember that night, he didn’t even know he had the damn knife in his back,” Gojo says. 

“That was because of the adrenaline,” Shoko adds.

Time went on and dinner was served to the guests. Nanami and Fahari stopped at the table countless times to talk to you guys, but they always were tugged away to accept gifts from their family and friends. You found yourself talking to Shoko more while the guys were socializing. Of course, Megumi soaked up a lot of the attention from the guest—especially when Gojo had the baby with mashed potato stains on his face after he ate. The more Shoko talked, the more you learned about the many stories of different gang members coming to her all banged up or cut up. She even told you about how she had to remove a bullet from one of Toji’s men while they were speeding down the freeway towards her private practice. 

The sound of tapping on a glass gained everyone’s attention. All heads turned to look at the main table where Fahari and Kento’s family were at. There the two stood holding hands with huge smiles on their faces. You were hoping each gang member in the room was soaking up this moment—it was rare having Nanami smile around the gang. He always had that serious look that meant he was here for business and no games. Fahari held the mic one of the workers gave to her 

“We would like to announce that we’re expecting our first child together,” Fahari said in the mic with a smirk that lit up the room. “I’m excited for this new journey in our lives and I can’t wait to meet our little bundle of joy,” She says before placing the mic down.

The room erupted in cheers and clapping as Nanami tugged Fahari in for a long loving kiss that caused everyone to cheer even louder. Soon a crowd gathered around them to congratulate them on the soon-to-be journey of being parents. 

“Wow,” You said out loud. You knew Fahari was pregnant already, but you just loved seeing everyone happy for the couple. 

But it was something that Shoko said that caused you to raise your eyebrows in curiosity. 

“I wonder if this means, Kento has a way out,” Shoko said as she was twirling around her box of cigarettes on the table. 

“A way out?” You asked. 

“Yeah, once you have a kid—Toji gives you the option to step down and leave the gang.” Shoko would sigh. “I’m going to go smoke if the others ask.” 

AS THE NIGHT WENT ON OF WATCHING FAHARI AND KENTO’S LOVE, you sat at the table just looking around at everyone. You were grateful for the new people that you have met within these weeks. You had a bond with Geto and Gojo. You saw Kento in a new light now that you’ve discovered he was such a lover boy. You met Shoko who was more behind the scenes and only was needed when a member got hurt and she was perfectly okay with it. Naoya didn’t even show up, which you were disappointed with considering the pleading you did on his behalf. Now that you thought about it, Naoya hasn’t texted or called you to do his daily flirting. Which wasn’t like him at all. Hopefully, he had just partied a little too much the previous night and was sleeping off his hangover. 

Your thoughts were interrupted as you could feel someone’s presence next to you. While you push around pieces of the half-eaten chocolate-covered strawberries you were nibbling on, soon when you got a whiff of that familiar Dior cologne—you knew who was sitting next to you. Toji took the seat next to you as the night was winding down in the restaurant. His black tie was undone as he was doing the same thing as you, observing and taking in everyone's demeanor.

It was the first time he saw his gang relax. He watched as Kento was holding Megumi while Farahi was causing Megumi to shriek with the most adorable laughs. The woman used a napkin to collect any drool that was coming out of Megumi’s mouth to prevent his outfit from getting wet. “They’re going to make wonderful parents.” You said out loud as you watched the couple.

“Of course, they are,” Toji says as he looks at you and then back at the engaged couple. 

You could feel that he had his arm around the back of your chair. You glanced over at him letting your head rest on your hand, “Did you have fun tonight?” You asked.

Toji looked at you pushing his chair further towards you and closer to the table, “I did actually. I think everyone deserved a night like tonight. Especially considering what’s to come,” Toji says bluntly. 

“I know.” You sighed as you thought about Asahi once more. Your skin heated up instantly out of anger about the situation once again. 

“But just know I won’t let him hurt you,” Toji adds. “I’m not sure what’s the relationship between you two and frankly I don’t give a damn. It’s in the past for a reason and we’re keeping it that way.” He found himself rambling on. It could have been the little bit of liquor he sipped on finally hitting his larger frame. 

“I got you, Y/N,” Toji adds. 

Although you were aware that Asahi would never hurt you. He killed your father to protect you, after all. You couldn’t help but smile at Toji. “You got me?” 

“Mhm,” Toji hummed as his eyes looked at you. He was so busy with making sure Megumi was okay that he didn’t even get to gawk at how beautiful you looked tonight. From the way, the sheer dress hugged your features to the way the red lipstick you had on went well with your complexion. You were driving him crazy tonight. Or was it because of the alcohol? 

“Hm, I’m starting to think you’re getting attached here, Mr. Fushiguro.” You responded before taking the strawberry on your plate and finally taking a bite of it.

Toji inched a little closer this time the scent of him had you trapped. “You haven’t complained yet about it. I know I said it’s not smart for us to get attached but I have noticed something.” He looks into your eyes.

“And that thing is?” You asked. 

“You’re single. Naoya is single and obviously interested in you, but you shut him down every time. Then it’s your not-so-mysterious relationship with Asahi.” Toji explained. “Starting to think you’re just as attached as me.” Toji leaned over letting the pad of his thumb rub the chocolate from the chocolate-covered strawberry you were eating off the corner of your lip. He soon placed the same thumb in his mouth lapping up the smudge of chocolate that was once on your lip. 

Your heart was pounding in your chest. You weren’t sure if it was because of his words or his actions. The feeling of being hot with rage due to thinking about Asahi was now replaced with being hot for Toji. Frankly, what he said was true. You were as attached to Toji as he was to you. 

You had finished your glass of champagne before pushing yourself from the table. You tugged your dress down before walking in the direction of the bathroom. You turn around to meet Toji’s eyes and you watch his face glow a bright red before he’s finishing off his drink also. You smirk before going into the bathroom. Even the bathroom in this restaurant reeked of richness. You pushed each stall door open, being sure that no one was in there because you were positive that Toji followed behind you. 

You couldn’t believe you were doing this. You weren’t sure if it was alcohol you consumed, your feelings for Toji, or if you just wanted this moment to make you forget what your father did. Just wait until Farahi hears about this, your talk from earlier—the woman already suspected some hidden feelings between yourself and Toji. You would let the cold water run over your hands as you thought that maybe you were dreaming. However, when you saw Toji sliding into the bathroom door and being sure to lock it—you knew you weren’t dreaming. You would grab a paper towel to dry your hands quickly before you’re looking at him, your lips parting to speak but soon his lips crash upon yours in a flash. The taste of the liquor he was drinking lingered on his lips causing you to be even more intoxicated by his kisses. You could feel your back pressed against the edge of the row of sinks in the bathroom and Toji didn’t waste any time lifting you to place you on the sink. He took comfort in the space in between your thighs and the kiss didn’t break just yet. 

You could feel his hands lingering up the dress you were wearing causing it to rise just a bit more. He even inched closer just so you could feel his clothed bulge upon your folds in your panties. “Let’s just do it already.” You moaned out when you felt Toji’s lips trailing kisses down your neck.

Red lipstick staining his plump lips, Toji did what he was told. He undid his pants and soon could feel how loose they were around his waist. He’s digging into his Calvin Klein briefs to tug out his member and he chuckled seeing your reaction. 

“Jeez, I see how Megumi was created,” You uttered, your eyes glancing down at the dick that stood hard and ready to feel you clutching around him. 

“Don’t let the size scare you, you’re a big girl and you’re going to take this dick, right?” Toji uttered as he inches his face closer to yours.

His words and tone of lust were a complete panty soaker. He would tug your panties to the side and he let his fingers glide across your pussy lips. The feeling of your sleek staining his fingertips caused him to go feral. He grabbed ahold of his cock and let his tip tease you as he brushed it against your drooling entrance. “Look at that, I barely touched you and you’re so wet for me doll,” Toji says.

“Toji.” You whined as your hips bucked for some form of friction. “Stop the teasin’.” 

“Why? Isn’t that what you've been doing all along?” Toji asked.

He didn’t even give you time to answer before he’s trapping you with a lust-filled kiss once again. But this time you were forced to moan into his mouth as you felt Toji fill you up with his cock bit by bit. The pornographic wet sound that was heard when he finally bottoms down fully inside you caused you to break apart the kiss to let out a moan. 

“I told you—you fit so perfectly around me,” Toji emitted. The intense feeling of you clutching around him was causing him to go insane and soon he’s grasping at your thighs to move his hips further towards yours. 

Your head fell back to be met with the glass mirror and that didn’t stop Toji from his brash thrusts that were tugging you closer to the edge. The grip he had upon your thigh was so tight that you knew it was going to leave a bruise, but you didn’t care. You were so into the moment that Toji could leave as many marks on you as possible and you wouldn’t care. You weren’t sure what possessed you to cross this line with Toji, especially the running thought of not wanting to get attached to him. However, with the chilling thoughts of what your father was doing—you wanted to drown your sorrows away. No matter if it was with liquor and just sex, you didn’t want to think about your father, his horrible actions, and his death. 

Within the minutes of Toji being in between your legs mushing his hips forward to feel the wonderful feeling of your pussy clenching around him. You weren’t even sure how many times you had cum. Your thighs quivered as soon as he removed his dick covered in your essence. Desperation lingered on your face as you ached for more, such eagerness for Toji to fill you up again that your hands went in between your thighs to put back in. You heard Toji chuckle before he’s pinning your hands above your head. You could feel the coolness of the mirror on the back of your hand. 

“Stop rushing, I want you to savor the moment.” Toji hummed as he used his free hand to prompt your leg upon his shoulder.

You were completely vulnerable to what was to come. He soon used his hand to guide his cock back towards your drooling entrance. His fat mushroom-shaped tip brushed against your pussy and Toji felt your body tense up. “Just relax, you took me so well the first time.” 

Toji was shoving himself back inside you bit by bit and slowly just to push you further to the edge of your orgasm you had lost count of. 

“Look how well you’re taking me, like the pretty girl you are.” Toji groaned through the lewd sound of your skin slapping against each other.

You were curious to look in between the gap in your bodies. You felt lightheaded seeing the way Toji’s cock looked inside you. It was a beautiful sight considering how thick Toji’s dick was, but also terrifying due to how girthy his cock was to even be able to fit inside of you. 

“I’m so close,” Toji spoke while rocking his hips at a rhythmic pace. 

You weren’t sure what possessed you to moan out such words. But it just stuttered out like a broken record that kept repeating itself. Your walls fluttered around his cock while exhaustion finally hit your body. You could tell that Toji was feeling the same way. His eyebrows furrowed together and his face was as red as a tomato, he was about to cum. 

“Cum in me.” You moaned out. “Let it all out Toji.” You said through moans.

Toji didn’t argue against your wishes. He gladly let it all out. Thick warm ropes of cum shot inside you you just in time for Toji to trap your loud moan of his name. His tongue forced its way down your throat wanting to taste you through his mind-blowing high of being inside you. You were too addicting to Toji and he loved to admit that he hadn’t felt this way in a while. His strokes were slow and hesitant before he finally pulled out. His skin felt so hot as he ran his fingers through his jet-black hair. 

It took a couple of seconds for you to finally gain your composure. You hopped down from the sink to clean yourself up although you could feel Toji’s cum inside of you. Toji was also cleaning himself up collecting his thoughts just like you. 

“We should make a stop at a convenience store before we go home.” You admitted as you turned to him. You started to fix his clothes for him, slowly tucking in his button-down shirt in his pants and soon buckling his pants. 

“It was the bliss of the moment,” Toji sighed happily as his hands found their way to your waist. 

“This changes everything, you know?” You questioned as your eyes glanced up to meet with Toji’s. 

“Are you saying this because of your former relations with him or?” Toji asked. His question trailed off as he waited for your answer.

“Are you asking this question because you think I’m going to go back to Asahi?” You questioned.

Toji kissed his teeth at your question. He hated to admit that Asahi’s name leaving your lips after such an intense moment made him feel jealous. “Are you?” His hands dropped from your waist in disappointment.

“You asking me this after we just had sex is insane.” You snickered. “I’m not interested in Asahi, I can’t say the same for him. But like you said, I’m just attached to you as you are to me.” 

“I have to compete with him and Naoya? You’re killing me, Y/N.”