absoluteindulgence

[absoluteindulgence]

Woooooow, my flabbers were gasted 😭😭😭😭

Can I request vampire Nanami surprising reader on a date but she broke up with him because she’s moving overseas to study animals

𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼 𝔹𝕀𝕋𝔼𝕊

Discord 18+ - Twitter

Pairing: Stalker Vampire Ex-Boyfriend!Nanami Kento x Female Reader

WC: 5.8k

Summary: Did you think he would know how to find you? He's tasted your life essence, been engulfed in your delicious scent, drunk off the taste of you. You could leave if you wanted, he couldn't stop you. But he would find you, he would be watching.

Story Warning: Stalking, Jealousy, Obsession, Biting (duh), Suggestive Things I guess idk lmfao, Blood, Drinking Blood, Spit, Maybe a bit of fingering and who tf knows what else, Kissing with blood, Nanami spit lover?, Nanami Intoxicated on you and your bodily fluids, Exes to Something???, Fingering for sure actually, Kissing with Blood, Profanity bc it's ME, Nanami downbad like SO downbad for reader, he's such a little weirdo

Art by: 𝗣𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗸𝘂ᴬᴿᵀ (@chitrartum) on X

Divider Credit: @jelliedink

A/N: FINALLLLLYYYYYY @lovebittenbyevans it's FINALLY up LOL. Listen, I know I said I would post it yesterday but if yall believed me, that's your fault! I'm a liar! Yall know! LMAO. Anyway, I hope I did this one justice. I haven't written Nanami in so damn long I found myself kinda second guessing myself a lot here, but I'm happy with the final product so I won't complain LOL. Anyway ENJOY!!!

‘There’s something familiar about this scene,’ Nanami thinks as he leans casually against the wall of whatever random building this is. 

There’s something familiar about you. You, and your laugh that causes this strange tingling sensation he hasn’t felt in who knows how long. You, and the way your hand grips onto an arm when you find something particularly amusing. You, and the way you lean a little closer when you’re happy.

‘And you’re so beautiful when you’re happy like this,’ he thinks. Happy, like you clearly weren't with him.

Nanami's eyes narrow, vision honing in on you and the way you laugh and hold onto an arm and lean a little closer because you’re content and enjoying yourself. If only you were laughing with him, gripping onto him, leaning a little closer to him like you used to.

Perhaps then, he wouldn’t be standing across the street with his gaze locked onto your form while you dine out with another gentleman who most certainly isn’t Nanami Kento.

Everything feels so familiar here, like he’s lived this scene before, because he has. But foreign as well, because he’s an outsider now, no longer a part of your world. Not by his choice. Nanami would never choose to be watching the life he once had played out before him. It feels like some sort of sick joke, like he’s being mocked as he’s watching as you do all the things you used to do with him before you’d up and left one morning, knowing it’d be impossible for him to follow you for quite some time. It gave you one hell of a head start, and it took Nanami awhile to find you again. 

But oh, he did find you. And here you are, sitting with another man in the very late hours of the night, at some hole in the wall food stand across the street of a busy intersection. You can’t see Nanami, not from this distance he’s put between you two. But he can absolutely see you, clear as day. Every movement you make, every twitch of muscle, he sees it. 

He can hear you, too– hear your laugh, your heartbeat, your breath, the rush of your blood flowing through your veins. He hears it. Everything.

Nanami watches, his eyes hardening when the man beside you slides his plate over and you take a bite of his meal. That used to be him with you at whatever shit hole you’d chosen for your date.

Nanami had always appreciated that about you. Sure, you enjoyed the occasional fancy night out at Nanami’s insistence – getting dolled up and dining at a Michelin star restaurant. But you much preferred the lowkey vibes of grabbing a bite to eat at a smaller establishment or local street vendor. Even if you knew that wasn’t Nanami’s scene.

“It just brings less attention to you,” you’d reason.

And Nanami isn’t an idiot. He could read between the lines. What you meant was it brings less attention to the fact that he never orders anything to eat, not even a bread roll. The waitresses would give him strange looks, glancing at your table occasionally as he simply watched you consume your meal while the most he could stomach was a glass of water at best.

It really can’t be helped. Human food makes Nanami viscerally ill, after all. If anything, you may have been more concerned that Nanami was eyeing the staff like they were on the menu.

He’d be lying if he said the sight of you sharing another man didn’t upset him. Not only did you give another man the place beside you that was once his own, you’ve welcomed him into your routine. Welcomed him to the smiles that were once meant for only his eyes. Welcomed him to the laughs that Nanami can hear even above the noise of this late night traffic across the road.

Simply put, you seem to have replaced him. You’ve moved on, tossed him aside for another. And it’s more than Nanami can say for himself.

It’s been months since you ended your relationship, and he just can’t seem to let you go. He knows he should. He knows that he shouldn’t be watching you the way he does. He can’t help it. Besides, it’s not as if you know what he’s doing. He usually keeps his observing to a healthy distance, only to ensure you’ve made it home safely. That you’re tucked into your bed and definitely not out on dates with new men.

Not too far, but not too close either. It’s become a habit for him. He works from home until the late morning, then he sleeps, because what else is he to do? He wakes up once the stars are visible in the sky, then heads straight to your home. And on days he’s not able to get to you because he’s busy…having dinner (sometimes it’s for business reasons!)…he just hopes you’re doing what you usually do on a lazy night; sitting in your pajamas and curled under the soft blankets he’d purchased for you early on in your relationship.

He likes to think you’d kept something that reminded you of him. Do you think of him? Because he thinks of you. Always. If his standing here staring at the back of your head like a madman isn’t any indication. He keeps all your little trinkets, too. Anything you’d left behind, he has. 

He’s lived a long life, human emotion having long been cast aside, and your presence awoke something in him. At the time, he couldn’t quite place this feeling and didn't bother digging any deeper for answers. But it’s your absence that provides the knowledge he never sought out. It reminds him that he was once human. That he was once capable of feeling more than insatiable hunger, the need to feed off another.

He’s capable of desire, of love. Nanami doesn’t think he’ll ever feel the way he does about you for anyone else.

Unfortunately for him, that doesn’t seem to be the case for you, as you appear to have finally started seeing someone new. But unfortunately, you’ve made the grave mistake of opting for what appears to be a date that falls within Nanami’s most active hours.

He’s used to the shadows, as it feels most like himself to hide under the cover of darkness. It’s how he was able to find you, able to sense that you’re even breathing and content sighs when you slept were noticeably absent when he’d found himself doing his nightly “check in” on you.

So he does what any concerned ex-boyfriend would do. He follows the sound of your heartbeat. All the way here, where you’re having far too much fun for his liking.

Brown eyes stare as you and your date finally wrap up dinner. Your date helps you from your stool, and you idly chat before he wraps you in a tight hug and Nanami feels his blood boil. Well, if he had a beating heart, he imagines his blood would be boiling. 

How dare this man put his hands on you so affectionately? And how dare you receive it so happily? Did all your time together – the kisses, the moans, the love you shared – mean nothing to you?

Fuck this. He’s going over there. 

But the moment your date leaves you and you turn to head the opposite direction, Nanami is torn. Should he follow you? Or should he follow your date? On the one hand, he wants to see what you’re up to, if you’re going home and if not, who and where are you going to? On the other, he’d love to sink his teeth into your date's jugular and rip his larynx out. So many tempting choices…but he opts for the former.

He’s on your tail quickly. He’s determined to speak to you, has to see you and confirm that you’re done with him for good. His body moves fast, hurrying through the crowd to try and catch up to you before you can slip through his grasp again. He won’t accept this. He’s given you ample time to come back. He won’t wait a moment longer.

When the crowd thickens in the busier part of the city, it becomes harder for Nanami to see you. The sounds of different heartbeats blend with your own and your scent becomes more difficult to track when you mix in the shitty perfumes and cheap colognes. Before long, he's lost you. 

His eyes dart around, quickly and thoroughly scanning every face and body in the crowd. But none of them are you. He's certain of that. Deep breaths, Nanami takes several of them focusing on the familiar rhythmic beat of your heart. The pedestrians move around him as he stands still, eyes closed as he focuses. They mutter their curse words or pardon themselves, but he can’t be bothered to listen to anything but you. 

At least a minute passes before he hears it. It's faint at first, but it's there. The light thumping of your heart. He follows it, all the way into a dark alley. And then the panic sets in. 

Why would you be here of all places?

Why is your heartbeat so quiet?

Are you in trouble?

“What the hell are you doing, Kento?” Your harsh voice has Nanami spinning on his heel, the tone unfamiliar to him. 

There you are, in all your glory. Beautiful as he remembers, though it’s not as if he hasn’t seen you recently. He just hasn’t seen you this close in awhile. The neon signs of the city cast a cute glow along your skin and Nanami has to resist smiling. Because you're also so very pissed, arms folded across your chest and a deep frown sitting on your lips. And yet, you still manage to mesmerize him.

“I was just out–” he begins coolly, but you cut him off.

“Out…Out what exactly?” You ask. “Out…following me?”

He should lie. 

He should tell you that he would absolutely never do something as outlandish as following your scent like some cartoon hound dog floating through the air as they chase the smell of food. But that may be hard to believe seeing as that’s how you two started out in the first place – with Nanami searching for his next meal (you) and you somehow charming him into taking you out to dinner instead. What a twist.

Weeks later, he would reveal himself to you as the blood hungry creature of the night he is. And you’d accept him for exactly who he was.

And still, he should lie. 

So that at least you feel a little better. Maybe you’ll think this is just some coincidence that he’s run into you in this dank alleyway in the middle of the night, but he doesn’t bother. You know him. And well, at that. 

So he tells the truth. All of it. 

Your laugh is dry, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose as you try to keep your composure. No one is around, save for the people passing by on the sidewalk, not sparing a single glance into the shadows where you hide with your ex-boyfriend. Still, you don’t want to draw any attention to the two of you. Less for either of your sake, and more for the poor person who deigns to interrupt.

“So you’ve been following me…”

Nanami wouldn’t exactly put it that way, but…

“Yes.” 

Okay, maybe he would.

He never was one to mince words.

“How long?”

He tilts his head in question.

“How long…” you pause briefly, seemingly gathering your thoughts. “Have you been watching me? Following me? Whatever the hell it is you’re doing?”

Nanami thinks about this, though he knows the answer. It’s been exactly four months and six days, about eighteen and a half weeks, one hundred and twenty nine days total since you left and he picked up this…obsession with you. But who’s keeping track?

“Since you left,” he answers with the truth once again. Even in this darkness, he can see your eyes widen in shock. He doesn’t want to scare you. He wants you to see how much he wants you, needs you even.

“Because you left me without a single word, ___” he tries to explain. “Won’t answer my calls, won’t reply to my text messages, won’t see me –”

Nanami steps closer to you, and you step back, and it causes this strange stinging sensation in his chest that sort of…hurts? Makes him want to beg you not to move any further, because he’s not sure he can withstand it now that he’s within reach of you again.

“Well apparently, you see me all the time!” You grit out, voice rising an octave before you catch yourself.

“I’m only making sure you’re safe,” he tries to reason, but you shake your head.

“No…” You hold up a finger between you both, keeping Nanami at a distance. And that sting settles in again. “No, you’re stalking me, Kento.”

“Yes, but you’re dating. I saw you.”

“And? I’m allowed to go out with people, Kento!”

It’s been so long since Nanami has heard you say his name. And you’ve said it three times in such a short span. It’s doing something to him that he can’t quite put into words.

“And how do you know they’re a good person? How do you know they won’t hurt you? I’m simply looking out for you.”

You rub aggressively at your temples. “Kento…” you sigh. “You…are…a…fucking…vampire.”

Nanami rolls his eyes.

“And a shitty one at that. But I dated you, and I was just fine,” You’re sure to add. “For a vampire, you’re really not as stealthy as you think you are, by the way.”

You’re right. Perhaps he’s been sloppy, following you the moment nightfall comes, tracking your whereabouts. He thought you hadn’t noticed, but has he really made it so obvious?

There’s a short bout of silence between you, you glaring hard at him while he tries to think of a way to make you see reason. But you look away, just as you ask, “Are you hunting me now?”

Your sudden question surprises Nanami, his brows rising when he hears the fear seep into your quiet voice.

He steps forward again, and this time he breathes a sigh of relief when you don’t move. “No, of course not.” His hands cup your face, tilting your head upward so you can see the honesty in his eyes. You let him hold you as he speaks. “I would never hunt you…” Your eyes narrow, and Nanami quickly adds, “...again.” 

He sees the way your lips purse together, like you’re trying not to find humor in that. “If anything, I was hunting your date…” he mutters, quickly tacking on “kidding,” when you narrow your eyes again.

But still, he makes a mental note to find that man later.

“The first time,” Nanami says honestly, “I hunted you with the intention to kill. Clearly, things didn’t work out that way.”

You sigh, your features softening as Nanami pours his heart out to you, the way he wishes you would’ve let him before you left. “No…they didn’t.”

He remembers the first time he’d caught your scent, so alluring and delicious, the first time he’d heard your heartbeat, and he’d let the sound lull him to sleep, the first time he’d pressed his tongue to your pulsepoint, the thrumming beneath making his nostrils flare. And then, the first time you’d let him taste your life essence…

“You changed me, ___,” he whispers. “I’m a monster, it’s true. I kill, I manipulate others to get what I want, I hurt others. But I’ve never done any of these things to you.”

Your hands find his wrists, holding tight while he finally blurts out everything he’s been keeping buried all these months.

“You leaving me…it left a hole in my life I didn’t know you filled at the time. I need you. I love you,” he says. “It’s why I watch you, why I follow you. I’m sure I sound a little insane…”

“An understatement,” you murmur. But there’s a tiny smirk playing at your lips. You’re teasing him.

“I have not felt this much emotion towards another since…” He shakes his head, almost in disbelief. “I don’t even know when. But I know for certain, I feel love when I think about you. I thought you felt the same…” He breathes hard, like it was such a strenuous task to get all of that off his chest. Eyes boring into yours, he mutters quietly, rather pathetically, he thinks, “...what changed for you? Why don’t you want me anymore?”

Any other vampire would be mocking Nanami to all hell, dragging his name through the mud at how desperate he is for you, a human. He loves you. There is no doubt there. Why else would he spend any and all of his free hours thinking of you, dreaming of you, seeing you anytime he closes his eyes? You consume him, and the irony is not lost upon him. 

It’s been so long since Nanami stepped outside in the daylight. So long since he’s felt the sun on his skin. But your warmth, your presence…you are his sun. He orbits around you. 

It can’t be helped. He knows what he wants, knows what he’d do to have you back. He just needs to know that you want him, too.

Your soft breaths against his face has his mind reeling. Your scent is driving him crazy. He doesn’t even know when you two had gotten so close.

“It didn’t change…” You confess, and if Nanami didn’t have incredible hearing, he would have missed it. Your feelings for him haven’t changed. “I’m leaving Tokyo, Kento…”

Nanami thinks he misheard you.

“I’m sorry?”

You repeat it, a little louder this time, albeit shakily. “I’m leaving. Going abroad for school.” You smile softly, and Nanami finds his thumbs gently caressing the apples of your cheeks. “I got into a program to study wildlife and…I’m going to go.”

Now Nanami wishes he had misheard you.

“You…left me…to go and study animals?” He’s not understanding. You can’t do that here?

“No. I left because I need this change, Kento.”

“Why?” The question comes out more strained, more desperate than he intended. “Why do you need to leave me to do this? Why do you need to see other people to do this?”

You can’t look at him now, eyes downcast. “I’m still young, Ken. I have to figure out my life.”

“And you can’t do that with me?”

This is all too much. Why the hell does studying animals mean you have to leave him? That you see other people romantically? That you give yourself to another? Perhaps he should just kill you. It feels like a better solution than letting you leave him for good.

“It’s only for a few years,” you reassure him. “I just…it was easier for me to cut and run. You can’t go with me. The trip is long and…the sun…you just–”

He gets it now. A lengthy flight abroad is impossible for someone like him. Of course you’d want a real life, a mortal life without him. He would be selfish to keep you from that. And he is selfish. He wants you, deserves you. After years of living in the shadows, he wants so badly to step into the light with you.

But he knows that he can’t. He knows he can only give you what you truly deserve – freedom.

“You’ll be great,” Nanami says, trying to control the way his voice threatens to break. “And when you’re done…if you still want me, come back to me, okay?”

You nod, tears pooling at your waterline as you make your silent promise clear.

There are no more words to be said. It’s the closure he needed, though not the results he wanted. He has to let you go. It’s not fair. That’s what he wants to say. He wants to grab you and take you back to his home and keep you locked up so that you can never leave him. Maybe turn you so that you can spend an eternity together. But it’s just not fair.

He feels your hands press against his chest, trembling as you stare up at him. “One more time before I go?”

It’s an offer he can’t, and won’t refuse.

Nanami kisses you, hard and long, hungrily. He slips his tongue into the cavern of your mouth, humming when your tongue tangles with his, and he’s already losing himself in you. In your touch, the little sounds you make, your scent, your taste.

God, how he missed you. How he will keep missing you when you’re gone and even until the day you return.

Your lips slot against his, messy and demanding, hands balling his shirt in your fists as you pull him closer. You step back, dragging Nanami with you, each step moving you further and further until your back hits the wall and Nanami’s towering over you. And he’s losing himself, humming when you sigh into his mouth, hands finding your waist and squeezing out of fear you’ll vanish into thin air if he lets you go, his head tilting just slightly so that he can take up more of your space, more of your air. He’s so lost in you that he barely feels the change, hardly makes out the little yelp you let out, your hands pushing him away as you roughly break free of the kiss. 

Eyes wide, your fingertips graze your bottom lip where a cut now resides, thick crimson blood dripping into your hand. “Your fangs…” you’re panting harshly. “They’re out.”

Nanami’s fingers are on his mouth, a single digit running through his lips, along his teeth where he feels the long, sharp canines fully protruding. He’s nicked you. He lost himself so much so he sliced your lip with his fang.

‘This is fucking embarrassing,��� he thinks. The urge to vanish into the shadows and forget about this encounter is strong.

This. This is the effect you have on Nanami. Any and all control he has is out the window. His fangs appearing on their own? It’s the equivalent of suddenly getting an erection while out in public. This has never happened to him before. Not with any of his past lovers. Not even when he’d first turned. And yet, you pull this reaction from him so easily. 

Nanami is overtly aware of humans and their mortality, of course. So he doesn’t particularly go out of his way to care for them. But you…he cares for you. You have him skulking around like a rat in the dark, waiting for you to look his way. You have him losing control of his fangs like he’s some goddamn adolescent vampire just from the taste of your saliva.

It’s definitely not the liquid he’d prefer, but he loves it all the same. Intoxicatingly saccharine, so sweet it almost hurts.

“I’m so sorry,” Nanami whispers, taking your hand from your lips. “I lost control.” He lifts your hand to his face, eyes boring into yours as he inhales the enticing scent of your blood. One long breath, deep, savoring the smell. “That seems to happen a lot when it comes to you.” His tongue darts out, his gaze locked on the way your breath hitches, how your heart beats loud like a drum as he slowly drags the warm and wet muscle along your skin.

‘Delicious,’ his mind sings. Nanami’s body reacts as it always does when he even catches the scent of your blood. He leans forward until he’s only an inch away before he drags his tongue along the swelling cut on your lip, humming gruffly at the taste. He’d missed you, and your blood. It’s unlike any others. 

You watch him through hooded eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly. The sounds of the bustling city just down this alleyway drown out as the two of you simply stare at each other, neither daring to look away. You may not be able to see as well as Nanami can in this darkness, but he sees you, and he’s sure he wears the exact same expression as well – love, desire, need. He sees the way you hold all of it in your eyes. You do care for him, you do love him the same way he loves you. You want him the way he wants you. He sees it so clearly.

He kisses your lips tenderly, careful not to hurt you again. Slow, steady, a bit more controlled than before. He’s trying to reign it in. But it’s you who deepens the kiss, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling Nanami closer as you kiss him harder. Your tongue finds its way into his mouth, and Nanami groans, the metallic blend of your blood and saliva sweet on his tongue.

“Fuck,” he breathes.He lips are on yours, rougher this time, the cut on your lip opening again and bleeding, mixing into both of your mouths. “Did you always taste this good?” 

You giggle in response, a sound he missed dearly. 

“I’m serious,” Nanami pants. “I feel like I can’t think straight just from kissing you.” He grinds his hips into yours, evidence of his need rubbing against your center. “Do you have any idea how badly I’ve wanted this again? How badly I’ve wanted to see you, to hold you, to touch you, to t–?”

He catches himself, not wanting to beat a dead horse.

“Taste me?” You whisper, fill in the gap, humor in your tone. 

Well, it does come with the territory, he supposes.

“That, too.”

Your fingers play with the short blonde locks sitting at the nape of Nanami’s neck, staring up at him and it reminds him of the domesticity you used to have. Reminds him of those little moments in between the busyness of your lives. “I have some idea,” you sigh as Nanami dips his head down to kiss along your jawline, down your neck. “You did stalk me for months, after all.”

He hums against your skin, acknowledging the fact. His lips drag along as he finds the spot that calls to him, and when he presses a light peck to the place where he can see your pulse fluttering, you gasp, fingers tightening in his hair. This was always the part you sort of dreaded, he recalls. And it was also the part you both were most excited for.

“Can I?” Nanami pleads, rubbing his nose along your pulsepoint and inhaling deeply. Your scent has changed, the anticipation and little bit of fear in your blood evident to him. So he presses another kiss, sweet and soothing to your neck again in hopes to calm you. He hopes the answer is a resounding yes, that you’ll let him do this one last time before you leave him for who knows how long.

He’s certain he’ll die right in this spot if you say no.

But your hand glides along his arm, until your fingers wrap around his. You guide his hand to the waistband of your pants, his fingers just barely beneath the fabric, and Nanami groans eagerly.

“Have me,” you whisper, whimpering quietly when Nanami runs his tongue along that spot. “I want you to.”

Nanami’s nostrils flare, the rapid rhythm of your pulse pounding beneath his tongue sending him into overdrive. If he’s being honest, this is his favorite part. Perhaps he gets off on the small bit of fear you exude just before this. He can’t help it. It’s instinct for him.

His hand slips between your bodies, into your pants as you loop your both arms around his neck. The feeling of your dripping core makes his cock throb within the confine of his own pants. But he can take care of that later. Right now, he only sees (and hears, and smells) you. He inhales deeply once more, kissing along your jaw once more until he reaches your lips. His lips slot against yours, needy and hungry until he has to force himself to break away in case he loses control again. He’s back at the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, right where your pulse beats wildly beneath your skin.

“It may hurt,” he warns, but it’s only to make himself feel better, really. You’re aware of the pain, having experienced it many times before. And still, even with the bit of pleasure it gives him, Nanami feels a little guilty about it.

“It’s okay. I can take it,” you assure him softly.

Of course you can, his sweet love. You would let Nanami do this time and time again if he asked, would you? And this is what Nanami remembers. How pliant you become when he’s got you like this. So eager to give him whatever he asks for. 

How will he live without you?

Nanami groans, low and rough against your neck, murmuring about how much he’ll miss you, how he loves you, how you’re so perfect for him and he’d rather die than to have another take your spot in his world. All the romantic words he’s been hoping to say fall from his lips, and he can hear from the way your heart drums against your ribcage that you’re feeling the effects of his words. He means every one of them, he hopes you know. 

His lips brush against your skin, presses one last, sweet kiss to the spot, murmuring, “I love you,” while his fingers run through your slick folds. Your legs tremble as Nanami’s rough fingers rub tight and slow circles on your clit. Your hands have found his shoulders, bunching the fabric of his shirt as you hang on. Every curse and moan from your lips is music to Nanami’s ears, only making him harder, more desperate to hear you make more of those noises.

He keeps his ministrations going, slipping forward until he has a single finger positioned at your entrance. He pushes in gently, just barely enough to garner a reaction, but your mouth still falls open with a soft gasp.

“So tight, so sensitive still,” he speaks, muffled against your neck.

Nanami’s tongue runs along your pulse, mouth opening slightly so that his lips lift and pull back. His canines push forward from his gums, exposing the long set of sharp fangs that have been screaming to be let loose. The relief he feels at finally being able to freely expose the long canines has Nanami letting out a strangled groan, murmuring an “I love you” just one more time before he’s slowly sinking his fangs into you at the exact moment he adds a finger to your entrance, pushing in and stretching your walls. His eyes roll to the back of head immediately, the thick and warm liquid filling his mouth, and he consumes everything you’re willing to offer.

It’s no wonder Nanami felt the need to follow you from the moment you’d left him. There is something completely addicting about you, something that doesn’t simply satisfy his hunger and cravings, but so much more. 

Your teeth bite down on your lip, an attempt to not scream at the sharp pain. Your hands squeeze hard, the discomfort running through your entire body. And Nanami squeezes you, too, one hand holding onto your waist for dear life, for something that will tether him to this moment here and now with you. Because he doesn’t want to lose control, doesn’t want to hurt you any more than he already is. 

Your eyes are closed tight, mind reeling with the intense pain and ecstasy you’re feeling while Nanami drains you, simultaneously pumping his fingers into you, and you quickly find yourself overcome with pleasure. Your quiet gasps and moans of pain turn to quiet gasps and moans of bliss, and the iron grip you had on Nanami eases.

He drinks from you like he hasn’t fed in days, and it has your head spinning, the quick depletion of your blood making your legs shake. It doesn’t help that Nanami’s fingers are picking up speed, reaching the place that makes you whine and beg for more, the lewd sound of your wetness mixed with both your muffled moans filling the space of this disgusting alley. 

You haven’t fucked anyone since you left him all those months ago, and now you’re remembering why.

There’s not much Nanami needs to do to quickly have you unraveling beneath him. Be it his mouth, his hands, his cock, he knows exactly what to do to make you come undone. You’re not shocked at all when Nanami presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing delicious circles on it, and your walls squeeze down on his thick fingers just as he bites down on your neck a little harder. Then he messily breaks his hold on you with a sharp intake of breath, standing tall and looming over your form so he can have a front row seat to your orgasm crashing over you suddenly.

Your lips fall open, a loud cry threatening to burst from your chest. But Nanami’s lips find yours, silencing you when his tongue immediately enters your mouth so that you can taste yourself on him. You moan, the taste of metallic heavy between you as you ride out your high on Nanami’s thick fingers.

You’re like this for a while, kissing lazily as Nanami pumps into you. When you’ve finally come down from your high, Nanami slips out of you easily, not wasting any time before he’s putting his fingers in his mouth and sucking them clean. You can just make out the dried blood staining around his mouth and his chin, and you wonder if you share a similar look.

It’s strange to taste your own blood, you’ve always thought so, but it’s not bad. Not when it’s Nanami you’re sharing it with. Not when it’s with someone you love.

You gaze up at the man you feel you can’t live without, but know you must in order to truly find yourself, your happiness, and your heart races. How could you have ever thought you’d be able to live a normal life after leaving him? How could you have given up this love you strongly share? Could you truly leave him here alone for the next few years? 

You don’t have the answers, but you know you can’t go back on what you’ve planned for your future. You need this, and he knows it. But it doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy this bit of time you have together. You were stupid to think you could cut and run. You don’t want to be away from him.

“Can we take this back to your place?” You whisper, pulling Nanami down for another kiss, softer this time, teasing almost. You press a palm to his groin where you feel his desire for you, and Nanami grunts at your touch. “I want to spend every second with you before I go.”

[absoluteindulgence]

She could never disappoint me😭

Equinox

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Black!Fem Reader

Summary: As Fall whispers its approach, you find yourself tangled in Toji's sheets and the remnants of a summer that was never meant to last.

CW: mild intoxication, explicit sexual content, slight angst, mentions of oral (f! receiving), missionary, vaginal sex, fluff and comfort. As always, reader is a black fem.

WC: 4.8K

Author notes: I had an idea for an 'end of summer' fic with Toji that I really needed to write. and I can't focus on anything else until this leaves my mind lol. Inspired by @absoluteindulgence 💕

As always, likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated.

Happy reading!

Header: myself | Divider: @saradika @cafekitsune | @pixelcafe-network💕

Masterlist | Ao3 | Twitter

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

The end of summer carries a unique weight, a bittersweet finality that hits everyone differently. For children, it’s the last wind of freedom—of the final days of sunkissed adventures with each other and nights that never seem to end, before the school bell calls them back to structure and routine. 

For the workforce, it’s a time of transition marked by the ticking clock of fiscal calendars. The not-so-busy days of August give way to a rush of activity—reports to file, budgets to review and close, plans to make for the coming year. Pencil skirts and a turned eye to open-toed shoes slowly shift back to crisp shirts and ironed slacks, polished and prepared for the productivity of fall.

For you, the shift is more powerful. It’s a sign of change that you’ve rehearsed but now find yourself forgetting the lines. It’s of saying goodbye to dalliances and an easy fling, of turning the page and embracing a new part of yourself. A new job. A new relationship status (single). A new outlook on life.

Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself it would be.

That’s what you tell yourself when you say ‘fuck it’ to monotony on your 30th birthday and decide to let your friends drag you around town. ‘Just try it,’ they giggle as you eye the horse races with a raised eyebrow, the announcer blaring in your ears over the roar of the crowd around you. It’s a place you would never imagine finding yourself. But you say ‘fuck it’ and go along for the ride. Tipsy and smiling from ear to ear as you yell to the wind when the #1 Happy Days crosses the finish line and puts three grand in your pocket.

‘Fuck it’ is what you tell yourself when nonchalant emerald eyes met yours, a scarred pair of lips smirking down as you slide your ticket to the attendee to collect your winnings. Nonchalant but mysterious emerald eyes that trace over your form without grace, eyeing the block sandals and too-tight shimmery silver dress that hugs your curves and shows the smooth brown skin of your thighs.

“Who gave you a heads up about Lucky Days? No way you won on your first try.” His voice is smooth, like fine velvet that ghosts over you.

“The disbelief in your voice tells me you lose often.”

Don’t encourage this.

That’s what you tell yourself when a heavily muscled arm drapes across the collections counter, a whiff of outdoors and mint and man wafting up your nose as his smirk deepens. “I don’t lose.”

The attendant mutters you a kind ‘Happy Birthday’ and slides a modest stack across the counter; your winnings twinkling up at you in crispy green. The large man next to you hasn’t moved, and unfortunately, you are tipsy enough to linger. Tipsy enough to drag your gaze over him with equal disgrace, catching the pale collarbone, angular jaw, and midnight hair that kisses his cheeks.

“Birthday magic then?” he inquires to keep your attention, taking a step closer with a confidence that makes your thighs clench. To you, he’s a tall man…a rugged, tall, and handsome man who lives in an untouched part of your mind. The kind of man that you always fantasize about doing the nastiest things with.

“I don’t know what that means.” You tuck your winnings against your chest, the deep cut of your dress pressing your breasts up against your arms, and his heavy gaze that falls upon them only makes something tingle in your core. “Now, go away before you ruin the rest of my day.” 

Go away before I make a bad decision.

He chuckles, a sound from deep in his chest, rattling the thick fabric of his black sweater. He gestures to your friends who are definitely drunk, downing another shot at the makeshift bar a few yards away. “You’ve got time.” 

“Not for you, I don’t,” you lie through your teeth, trying and failing to hold your breath when he takes another step. 

“You wanna bet, baby?”

Your reply catches in the back of your throat. Words that you know you should say right now. Words that you’ve had to speak to men countless times whenever you decide to go out and have fun and show any sort of skin past your ankle. Your bodies brush together, and you can’t tell if he wants you or the nice stack of cash resting on your tits.

But you don’t care.

“Something tells me, you’re not very good at gambling,” is what you retort, eyes locked on his, intention and desire radiating from you both as the little voice inside your head drowns in your arousal.

He’s bad news. This is a bad idea.

That’s what you tell yourself when you spend half your winnings with him on Takoyaki and a lost race. That’s what you tell yourself when you straddle his thick waist later that night, the frazzled ends of your dress pushed up over your ribs, panties shoved to the side with little fanfare. Taking a cock thicker than what you were used to, oozing an attachment you know won’t be good for you, finally asking for his name an hour later after he has you panting on your stomach from another orgasm.

“Toji Fushiguro,” he chuckles against the nape of your neck, nipping at the thin skin with sharp teeth that trail down your back, hiking your hips up before you gasp at the feel of his tongue between your sensitive folds as he eats you out from the back.

This is a bad idea.

That’s what you tell yourself when you wake up the next morning, sunlight streaming through unfamiliar curtains, your body pleasantly sore, your dress on the floor across the room, and your mind hazy with memories of the night before. You slip out before he wakes up, phone already pressed to your ear and prepared to get an earful from your friends for disappearing, now more determined than ever to make sure this was a one-time thing.

But summer has other plans.

Your plan to pick up fresh fruit from the farmer’s market is ruined when you run into his broad shoulders and easy grin, a stark contrast to the colorful produce around him. Your plan to enjoy the beach is gone with the salty wind when you see him again days later, droplets of seawater clinging to his muscled skin, making him glisten in the sunlight. Each encounter leads to another night of passion, another afternoon of embracing a sexual side of yourself you never knew was there, another morning of promises to yourself that this will be the last time.

Until eventually, something has to give. 

Just for the summer. No strings. No awkward conversations. Just sex. Because once the summer is over, you’ll be in a new office across town, too busy to entertain a relationship, let alone anything else in your life.

Just for the summer.

But as the weeks pass, something shifts. Stolen mornings of Toji’s head between your thighs because he was ‘in the neighborhood’ begin to stretch into lazy afternoons, you teaching him to cook fried green tomatoes and showing him the steps of your hair care routine. Hurried encounters in bathroom stalls with your legs wrapped around his waist and his filthy words in your ear give way to lingering touches and shared laughter at the absurdity of it all.

You find yourself opening up to him, sharing parts of yourself over ice cream cones he swears he can’t stand but eats anyway, the edges of his favorite—but won’t admit—Rocky Road melting too quickly in the summer heat over his pale hands. He starts to let his guard down, revealing glimpses of vulnerability behind those forest-green eyes. Of a harsh past, a complicated present, and a son overseas whom he hopes to see soon.

Maybe it was the Sunday afternoon when a sudden thunderstorm trapped you both in his apartment, leading to hours of conversation punctuated by rumbling thunder. Maybe it was the early evening you found him at the pier, silhouetted against a spectacular sunset, a tension in his shoulders and a quietness you had never seen or felt before.

You try so hard to ignore the changes in Toji’s behavior. The way his hand lingers on the small of your back when you are in public. The sight of your favorite snacks appearing in his kitchen because he is ‘tired of hearing you complain about him not having any food.’ The soft look in his eyes that you catch at odd moments while you both watch movies. 

‘Just for the summer’ has become an agreement that you both have not read the guidelines for in quite some time.

Now, as the first hints of autumn whisper through the trees outside, you find yourself exactly where you swore you wouldn’t be—tangled in Toji’s sheets that always smell too good and his warm body a solid presence behind you that always feels too safe. The room is covered in the gentle glow of dawn, a midnight blue breaking open for soft auburn, and you’re acutely aware of his arm draped over your waist, a muscled leg lodged between yours, his breath a steady rhythm against the nape of your neck.

You need to get up. Tomorrow is your first day at a new firm and you’ve let Toji keep you distracted from preparing. From shopping for new outfits and getting your hair done. From the inevitable of whatever the hell this is.

Instead, you turn carefully in his arms, the movement doing nothing to rouse him. You study his face in the gentle morning light that’s now gotten a little brighter. The scar at the corner of his mouth, once a symbol of a mysterious allure, is now as familiar as your reflection.

Hair the color of ink splays across his face, disheveled and frizzy, a few strings of silver at the roots above his ear. Before, you could get a good look at him while he slept and smirk to yourself that this would be your ride for so many weeks of summer. A fleeting but appreciative glance before you ducked away and left before he could open his eyes. Now as you look at him, your heart tightens with an emotion you’ve been trying to ignore for just as long.

This was a bad idea.

As if sensing your gaze, Toji’s eyes flutter open. For a heartbeat, two, he simply stares at you. The green in his eyes is deep, mesmerizing in the early morning light, still hazy with sleep but quickly sharpening as he focuses on your face. You can finally see the openness there, a susceptibility you occasionally find when he’s fully awake. You can never maintain eye contact in moments like this. It makes your breath catch in your throat because he’s too close, too intense, too much.

Wordlessly, Toji tightens his hold, pulling you flush against him. Your naked bodies mold together, the warmth of his skin seeps into yours, and you have to bite back a content sigh. There’s so much you’ve had to hold back lately to acclimate yourself to the eventual change. Then, with a gentleness that still surprises you, he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the curve of your shoulder. 

“What time is it?” he mumbles, unfortunate soft lips trailing up to the sensitive spot behind your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You struggle to focus, his touch already making your heady fuzzy and jumbled. You glance at the nightstand, where the clock face peeks out from behind a summer’s worth of memories. Sun-bleached seashells from lazy beach days rest against crumpled ticket stubs, reminders of nights when you belted out lyrics while Toji pretended not to enjoy himself. 

“Just past seven,” you manage to whisper, somehow getting the words out as Toji’s touch scatters your thoughts further like the trinkets on the nightstand.

Toji hums in response, his chest vibrating against yours. “Too early,” he says, a low rumble that you feel between your thighs, awakening a hunger that only he knows how to satiate. “Stay a bit longer.”

He smells faintly of bonfire smoke from last night—an impromptu farewell to summer party thrown by your friends that ended with you both stumbling back to his apartment, tearing at each other’s clothes, his hands pulling an orgasm from you before your back could even hit the mattress. Last night was different—more intense, more passionate. A mess of sweaty limbs and heavy breathing as you panted against him, trying to wave your own white flag of surrender that never quite made it past your lips each time he gave you more, more, more, unwilling to let the night end.

As Toji shifts to hover above you, you’re struck by the familiar weight of him, how it feels a little too close to home. It’s comfortable when his waist rests against yours, his cock slowly hardening against your thigh. His kisses, once desperate and searing, have softened. They still ignite a fire in you, but it’s a steady burn now, deep and enduring in the core of your stomach.

“I should really get going,” you implore, but your voice wavers, free of the conviction you desperately need right now. “New job tomorrow, remember?”

“Hmm,” he hums again to the column of your throat. He lifts his head, his gaze fierce and penetrating. Outside, the birds begin their morning call, warming their wings to prepare for their journey south. “You’ve got time,” he says softly, echoing words from that first night at the horse track. He goes back into the crook of your neck, chapped lips pressing to your skin with promise. “Stay.” It sounds too much like a demand, punctuated by a thorough roll of his hips. Your own cant towards him without thinking. “I’ll make breakfast.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles from your chest, remembering the last time he tried to sway you longer in his bed a few weeks ago. You realized when you choked on a too-wet pancake that Toji’s culinary skills were limited at best. “You? Cook?”

A punishing nip to your neck makes you gasp, your fingers sliding up his back to dig into muscled meat. “I can manage eggs. Probably. Might even use those tomatoes we grew.”

The ‘we’ doesn’t escape your notice. The small vegetable patch was your idea, a whim that blurted from your mouth on a sweltering day, eyes bulging and lips ready to backtrack before he agreed and it became a shared project. Like so many things between you, it grew into something more when you weren’t paying attention. 

Toji’s hand traces random patterns on your skin, soft between your breasts and over your navel before brushing folds that are already wet. You shouldn’t widen your legs more, but you do. Shouldn’t bite your lip in that telling sign that you’re wanting, but you do that too. “Got that job site inspection next week,” he says, aiming for casual. “Not far from where you’ll be.”

You swallow a deep-seated mewl that gurgles in the back of your throat when his fingers circle your clit, calloused pads the right amount of rough to ignite that fire in your stomach. Next week is beyond the boundary you both had set, beyond the promise of ‘just this summer.’ Hope, so unwanted in this very moment but also so overwhelming and bright as the early September sun, flares in your chest.

“T-toji,” you choke out to the feel of a thick finger collecting the slick that leaks from you before sliding inside. The heel of his palm brushes against your clit with every thrust of his hand, and your body responds to him quickly. 

You walked into this thinking you would be able to wipe your hands of him and say goodbye when the leaves began to fall. But it didn’t take long for Toji to learn how to take you apart, to open you up and see how you ticked before sewing you back together with a skill that still surprises you. 

Your fingernails press into his back, a practiced demand for more and he rewards you with a stern but satisfied gaze and another finger in your wet cunt. The hand not working your core cards through your curls, twisting at your nape before tilting your head back, exposing more of your neck with a wet gasp from your lips. His tongue glides along your skin, tasting bonfire smoke and ocean salt, a rumble in his chest, and a curl of his wet fingers to show how much he enjoys it. How much he enjoys the taste of you.

“Stay,” he demands again, nipping your earlobe, a third finger sliding into your cunt and you moan sharply at the stretch. You’re a little sore from last night, but your body welcomes the ache and rejoices in the brush against the spongy spot inside of you that he hits with precision. That fire in your belly roils quicker than what you want, bubbling to the surface and ready to burst with an orgasm that’s pressing at your skin. You’re already gasping, already moaning, already fighting the urge to beg him for the thing that’s thicker and heavier between his legs.

“Did you hear me?” he asks, purring low in your ear. You can only nod as you savor the clench of muscles in your stomach from his ministrations below, the sound of his hand sopping wet as he plays with you. “Then answer me.”

You can’t. Even though you’ve rehearsed this exact conversation for the past week. Even though you’ve prepared the right words if he tried to make you sing for him one last time. You can’t speak. Because the realization that Toji is doing what he can to keep you here makes your breath hitch and the fire in your belly finally erupts as a moan falls from your mouth as if you’ve been gutted, your orgasm locking your muscles around him. You turn your head into the pillow beneath you, panting and body trembling, your nape tingling from his grip, the clock on his nightstand blurry because you have to keep your eyes on something besides his steely gaze that spears your skin.

As your orgasm fades into the chilly air around you, you know you’ve given too much, and you can’t let this go on. Reluctantly, you turn your head back to face him, ready to retreat. His crumbling, guarded gaze now holds a mix of desire and something deeper, more vulnerable and raw that’s too much for you right now. Toji’s jaw clenches as if he’s holding back more words. As if he’s frustrated with your unwillingness to give him what he wants.

Instead of speaking, Toji presses his forehead against yours, an intimate gesture that makes you wish he would have used his words instead. But this speaks more than words ever could. His breathing, usually calm and controlled even in the throes of sex, comes in short, ragged bursts, betraying whatever he’s trying to hide. 

It’s a rare sight. You’ve seen it on the nights he convinces you to stay over and he shoots up from his sleep, panting like he’s run a mile, the silver of moonlight kissing the scars on his back and telling you a story without having to ask. You saw it weeks ago when you both screamed at each other for the first time, a joke of you going on a date turned sour, his shoulders heaving in anger and eyes trying and failing to hold his true thoughts back.

It’s the same right now. Black hair swaying over his forehead as he hovers over you, the hand from between your legs now digging into the flesh of your hip with wet fingers. You notice the slight furrow in his brow, the way his lips part as if he wants to say something. They twitch for a fraction of a second, opening and closing just once before he leans in to kiss you, as if he’s suddenly unsure of his welcome.

And you hate how quickly you show just how welcome he is, sighing into his body and wrapping your arms around his neck. You hate how quickly your body reignites, hips arching up to brush against his pulsing cock, the touch producing a low groan from him into your mouth. He ruts against you, rubbing your dripping cunt in rough but practiced circles that make you whine against him. 

The summer is ending, you remind yourself. This has to end, you beg yourself even as you pull away from him, panting against wet lips that somehow always taste of the peppermint candy he refuses to go without. You reach down to wrap your hand around him, swallowing the hiss that shoots from him as you guide him to where you need him most. Toji enters you slowly, deliberately, cataloging the way you arch into him, your bodies fitting together like the last two pieces of a puzzle you’ve been working on all season.

Through the cracked window that Toji refuses to close every night, you hear the world slowly wake up—school buses and more bird calls mixing with your ragged breaths as he moves within you. Deep and with purpose, wanting but with a tinge of frustration. Your fingers dig into his back, leaving crescent moons that some part of you hopes never fade after you’re long gone. 

Each thrust feels like falling—falling into him, falling into feelings you weren’t prepared for, falling like the leaves outside that signal the end of one season and the beginning of another. The pleasure courses through you, building slowly, steadily.

You relax your nails on his back, roaming instead, feeling the flex and ripple of muscles beneath your fingertips. The landscape feels different now, charged with electricity that makes your skin tingle and your heart race.

The pressure builds within you, a warmth spreading from your core outwards, hot and pulsing with every brush of his pubic bone against your clit. It squeezes the sides of your neck, making it harder to breathe, to think, to act. Your breath comes in short, sharp pants, mingling with the crisp morning air.

Toji’s hands leave your hips, reaching up to grab your wrists. He presses them into the pillow, one on each side of your head, opening you up and leaving you exposed while he takes you apart with every roll of his hips.

“Fuck, Toji,” you whine, gasping into the air as you arch into him. “Don’t—”

“You’ve gotta answer me, sweetheart,” Toji’s voice resonates low and insistent as he kisses up your neck, groaning in satisfaction when you clench around him in reflex. “I know you can,” he urges, his rhythm never faltering and his voice strained, “Tell me you’ll stay.”

You want to tell him to shut up. To stop it and give you one last mind-blowing orgasm and leave this alone like you both agreed. But you can’t. Each of Toji’s movements pulls moan after moan from deep within you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head before you squeeze your lids shut so you don’t have to look at him.

Suddenly, one of Toji’s hands releases a wrist, and before you can react, his palm cups the side of your face, his touch unexpectedly gentle. His thumb brushes your cheekbone, a tender gesture that contrasts with the intensity of his thrusts. With careful pressure, he turns your face towards him.

You shouldn’t look at him, but your eyes flutter open to meet his anyway, sharp and powerful. His hand on your face is warm, almost cradling, yet insistent in its silent plea for your attention. You feel exposed under his scrutiny. Your body is bare along with your emotions, raw and unfiltered. “Stay,” he breathes once again, softer this time even though the heavy meaning pounds against you, unrelenting and harsh.

The hand on your cheek slides between your bodies before you feel his fingers on your clit, pleasure rocking through you like lightning, and you tighten around him. 

“Squeeze around me just like that,” he hisses at the feel of you, his breath hot against your skin, and you obey immediately, savoring the sharp grunt from his chest. “So fucking beautiful.” He’s said it so many times before but now it feels different. Dangerous. 

The fingers of your free hand dig into Toji’s shoulders, holding on for dear life as he fucks you with a ferocity that leaves you breathless, your body sliding up and down on the sheets.

“Oh,” you gasp, “Oh fuck Toji—I can’t—” Your body shakes against him, hips rolling with his fingers on your clit. You’re painfully aware of every sensation: the slide of skin on skin, slick with sweat; the subtle creak of the mattress beneath you and the thump of the headboard against the wall; the rustle of the sheets tangled around your legs. 

“Give it all to me, baby,” he encourages and you want to shake your head ‘no’ because you feel like he’s asking you for something else. “Let go for me.”

“I can’t,” you plead against his lips again, shaking your head even as your body speaks differently. Trying to finally tell him without actually telling him. You can’t let him in and get hurt. You can’t be brave enough to take a chance.

But like every challenge Toji has ever been given, he faces it directly, taking in your meaning immediately. The hand on your wrist slides up to your palm, his calloused fingers intertwining with yours. The pleasure intensifies, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly. It’s almost too much, this feeling of fullness, of completeness.

“Look at me,” he demands softly. As your eyes meet his, he whispers, “I need you here. With me.”

It’s the raw emotion in his gaze, the sharp shift from his usual gruff words, the sudden feel of his lips against yours as he kisses you, and the terrifying realization that this man wants more than just your body that pushes you over the edge. Your release crashes over you like a chilling wave, powerful and all-consuming. You cry out, breaking from his lips as your back arches, body shuddering, as intense pleasure radiates through every nerve.

Not even a moment later, the tightening of your body from your release is enough to take Toji with you. He slides a hand beneath you, crushing you up against him, hard muscles against soft brown skin as he tenses and groans low and deep into the air, painting your insides warm with his cum. You both collapse, breathing erratically, his weight a welcome suffocation.

In this moment of ecstasy, suspended between summer and fall, between what was and what could be, you finally acknowledge that something fundamental has shifted. Like the turning of the seasons, there’s no going back. And as you cling to Toji, riding out the aftershocks of your shared passion, you find that the word he’s asking for remains lodged in your throat, your mind a battleground between desire and fear, between staying and leaving. But you know you need to say something.

“Toji,” you start after a few minutes when your breathing has calmed down, uncertainty heavy in your voice. “We said—”

“I know what we said,” he interrupts, rough and frustrated and something else. He lifts his head, jade-green eyes meeting yours, his want clear in their depths. “Just—fuck. Maybe we…can say something different now.”

Toji may be guarded in the things he says, but he has never lied. Not to you. And there’s no lie in his features now. There’s no morning haziness to show you his vision and thoughts are clouded. There’s no sinful smirk that hides true intentions. It’s pure honesty.

And as you search his face, a gust of wind rattles the wind chimes outside that you hung together, carrying with it the scent of sun-warmed grass through his cracked window. You can’t help but think of all the moments that led to this—moments you tried to ignore—the laughter, the lust that burned into something deeper, the quiet understanding that grew between you as the summer days stretched long and golden.

His hand intertwined with yours gives you a firm squeeze, pulling you from your thoughts. “Stay,” Toji says one final time, and the finality of it means more than just this morning. More than just this summer.

The sunlight breaks through the brisk air to hit your cooling skin, warming you from the inside along with him atop you. You want to finally say ‘okay,’ but you’re still too afraid to speak, too afraid to ruin this moment with your words in case you back down at the last minute.

So instead, you give his intertwined fingers a firm squeeze as well, hoping that tells him what he needs to know. Hoping that tells him you have the courage to stay…right now.

Or at least just for the Fall.

Thanks for reading!

[absoluteindulgence]

A BLACK GIRL RUNS THIS BLOG BITCH

[absoluteindulgence]

THE NEW STANDARD FOR SUNDRESS SEASON FANFIX.

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

CW: Light Profanity, Light Alcohol Consumption, Explicit Sexual Content, Missionary, Fingering, Mentions of Cunnilingus, Public Sex (Sort of), Office Sex

WC: ~9.8k

Summary: 

Nanami may be disconnected from social media trends, but he’s not oblivious. He’s overheard the crass innuendos and seen the tasteless memes on Yuji's phone. He knows the vulgar things some men say—about how excited they get when the summer begins. 

It always seemed so stupid and dramatic to Nanami, who has never had a straying eye to actually see if the rumors were true. But now that you’ve come into his life…he gets it.

Oh, he gets it. 

Sundress season.

Notes: Hello! Had a random thought this morning and decided to roll with it and practice writing Nanami some more. Anywho, I hope you all enjoy this one-shot.

This is a prime example of me writing smut when I feel like it. Please do not ask me for more related to this story and please do not ask me to write smut, the answer is no lol. This is just a one-shot of a random idea, please enjoy it for what it is lol. Thank you all for understanding!

Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated! Happy reading!

Dividers: @cafekitsune @arminsumi | Header: made by myself

Masterlist | Ao3 | Twitter |

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

The city summers are a different kind of hell. The humid heat clings to Nanami, making his skin feel instantly tacky as if he hasn’t showered in days. It wreaks havoc on his usual crisp suit and tie, causing the fabric to stubbornly adhere in unflattering ways. He thinks back wistfully to his bachelor days when he could simply escape such misery by holing up inside with the AC blasting, and then wait until the evening for a walk or to run errands. But that was before you came into his life like a vivacious sunbeam, all warmth and carefree laughter.

Now, he wouldn’t dream of depriving you of simple joys like strolling hand-in-hand through the park, watching you bask in nature’s dazzling seasonal shifts. The fragrant flowers blooming, the fireflies flickering to life as dusk settles, the earthy pre-rain smell you adore—he lives for the ease of these tranquil moments.

Throughout your relationship, Nanami has cataloged your ever-changing looks to match the passing seasons. The oversized chunky sweaters and leggings you’d cuddle up in during fall’s crisp breezes. The sleek peacoats and woolen scarves wound around your neck when winter blanketed the city in soft stillness.

But summertime is when your vibrant spirit and personal style shines. And it’s Nanami’s first summer with you when everything changes.

Nanami may be disconnected from social media trends, but he’s not oblivious. He’s overheard the crass innuendos and seen the tasteless memes on Yuji's phone. He knows the vulgar things some men say—about how excited they get when the summer begins. 

It always seemed so stupid and dramatic to Nanami, who has never had a straying eye to actually see if the rumors were true. But now that you’ve come into his life…he gets it.

Oh, he gets it. 

Sundress season.

And it’s a season that has awoken something primal within him. Something in his gut stirs, something in his mind shifts and the more he notices, the more he feels like a lecherous old man instead of the well-mannered one in his late twenties. While his clothes stick uncomfortably to his sweat-slicked skin you get to slip into breezy summer dresses that let every inch of your beautiful body breathe. 

As an event planner constantly on the move, you seem to live in the wispy, colorful outfits at all hours of the day. Like the buttercup yellow and candy pink number currently floating around you as you stroll together to the bakery during your shared lunch hour. It’s modest—cotton fabric that doesn’t stick to you, with ruffle short sleeves and a V-neckline that highlights your collarbones and the delicate diamond necklace resting between.

Nanami risks a sidelong glance, instantly regretting it when his gaze gets trapped by the way the bright floral pattern sways and twists with each step you take. The hem brushes the brown skin of your knees and while he can’t see much, Nanami knows the soft curves hidden underneath the airy fabric intimately.

While the caveman part of him can understand the underlying meaning of sundress season, it’s everything else that flares his want for you. It’s the wild curls that brush your cheeks and neck, the diamond earrings that reflect in the sun, the curl of your long lashes that kiss your lower lids when you blink. And yes—the gorgeous dress that you have on enhances everything about you—but in the most basic sense, you are beautiful.

“You’re staring.” It’s a playful accusation that you direct at him even though your eyes are admiring the tulips that you both walk past.

He quickly averts his eyes, sharp cheeks blazing a fiery red. “My apologies I…” Nanami clears his throat, struggling to regain his usual unruffled demeanor. “That dress looks lovely on you.”

You hum in acknowledgment, pausing so he can open the bakery door for you. “You think so? I just picked it up last week. Perfect for this heat, isn’t it?”

Nanami swallows hard at the teasing tilt to your tone, the innocent question feeling anything but. From the very first day he met you—that very first day you knocked back a glass of expensive whiskey and smiled at him as if it was nothing—he’s come to accept that you have no reservations of flustering him. You thrive on it, and for as stiff as Nanami is, you are a breath of fresh air that he never imagined would slide into his lungs. 

Umber eyes watch you walk ahead of him and into the welcoming AC of the bakery, tantalizing calves flexing with each step.

“Very much…” is all he can manage, hastily ripping his eyes away again as his equilibrium dangerously shifts.

You laugh lightly at his sudden silence, the warm, rich sound simultaneously soothing his thundering heart and making it trip up all over again. “You act like you’ve never seen me in a dress before.”

“You know that’s not true,” he mutters, switching his gaze to the menu to avoid your entirely too-innocent smile. “I simply…appreciate fine things.”

The rich ring of your answering chuckle sends molten desire licking traitorously down his spine. “Is that so? Then I’ll have to acquire more of these stunning ‘fine things’ for you to appreciate this summer…”

He should have known better than to egg you on. Had he kept his eyes to himself and brushed off your knowing glances, he could have enjoyed you without your playful watch. But for as smart as Nanami is, for as observant and vigilant in his work as he is in his life outside of it, he can never wrap his head around how devious you truly are.

One day, the weather calms down enough for lunch at the park. It’s the perfect day to eat outside. The sun is high in the sky but the canopy of trees gives you both the protection you need from harsh rays.

“Need any help setting up?” You call out, shrugging off the ice denim jacket from your shoulders to reveal this summer’s newest addition—an angelic white sundress adorned with delicate lace trim.

Nanami’s throat tightens and he shakes his head, unfurling a blue blanket onto the thick grass below you both. “I can do it, love. Please just relax.” 

He carefully arranges the picnic blanket, spreading the wrinkles free before you plop down on one side. As you dig into the large lunchbox, he admires the crisp white cotton that seems to skim over your frame, covering you but still unable to touch. Thin straps leave your shoulders bare, your skin glowing in the sun from your shimmery sunscreen. No necklace this time, so the square neckline dips just enough to offer a subtle hint of cleavage. The stretchy ribbed material hugs and accentuates every lush curve before gently flaring into an effortless, free-flowing skirt.

You purse your lips and furrow your brow in concentration, leaning more over the lunchbox, your back straightening to steady yourself before he watches free of shame as you arch just so.

When you turn to flash him that achingly fond smile, your curls falling over one shoulder, all traces of decency flee from Nanami’s mind. In that moment, he’s transported back to those dizzying early days of your relationship—entirely captivated, yet utterly terrified of somehow shattering this dazzling, undeserved connection between you.

“Thirsty?” You hold out one of the banana milk boxes that he’s grown to love since your presence, an impish quirk of your brow, clearly aware of his slow descent into hell.

Nanami nods jerkily and takes the milk box, unable to find his voice for a beat. As you settle down gracefully beside him, the skirt drifts up in a gentle billow, shaping to and showcasing skin. He has to tear his eyes away from the wicked flashes of toned thigh with extreme willpower.

Like the devil you are, you toss him a coy smirk, shiny lip gloss clear even though he knows it tastes like strawberry. “We gonna eat or are you just gonna gawk at me like a weirdo?”

He can’t help the scoff that leaves him as he pulls out sandwiches for you both. “I thought you liked when I gawk at you.”

“Not when I’m hungry.” 

He shakes his head, smirking softly as he removes the cling wrap before handing you your half, your fingers brushing against his. Warm pleasure blooms in his chest at the radiant sight you make contrasted against the swaying greenery. It’s as if you don’t belong but he couldn’t imagine you anywhere else. You take a generous bite of your sandwich, a smear of mustard in the crease of your lips as you offer him a gentle smile.

As the scorching summer rages, Nanami can’t help but chastise himself. A mundane and childish social meme has become the representation of the hardest test he’s ever taken. Maybe he should have asked for tips from Yuji on how to better prepare himself. 

He’s always prided himself on admiring from afar, on controlling his emotions in public and savoring them later in private. He knows your beauty and the unintentional way you drain the air around him. But he’s always been able to offer that soft smile, place a hand on your shoulder or your waist and offer a compliment to whatever you’ve chosen to wear for the day. But recently, in the face of your summertime wardrobe choices, Nanami finds that steely discipline faltering at an alarming rate.

Sinking deeper into the plush living room sofa, Nanami exhales a deep sigh and allows the tension thrumming through his shoulders to bleed away. Here, surrounded by the apartment’s climate-controlled sanctuary, he can savor these increasingly rare moments of solitary peace sprawled out with a good book. It’s a well-deserved shared day off for you both—free of schedules, obligations, or anything more strenuous than lounging around with each other. And more importantly, at home, you’re nothing but comfortable clothes and soft pajamas. 

He’s safe.

A wry smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he imagines the look of feigned innocence you always sport whenever he gets too overt about appreciating your seasonal attire. As if you don’t know the absolutely devastating effect even the simplest hair toss or twirl has on what’s left of his challenging self-restraint these days.

It’s going to be a great day. He’s almost done with this book, just three more chapters and then he can start another in his pile that he wants to tackle this summer. That’s right, Nanami Kento is going to—

The soft pad of your bare feet against the hardwood floors has Nanami glancing up instinctively from behind the novel’s pages. And just like that, the world around him completely whites out as if he’s been hit over the head with a brick.

You’ve emerged from the hallway in a yellow sundress so vibrantly captivating, so deliciously clingy and effortlessly suggestive that he nearly swallows his tongue in surprise. The rich gold hue kisses the deep tone of your skin, as if you’re a sunflower blooming under the artificial lighting of the apartment. The dress accentuates your shape in the most brazenly tantalizing way—the thin ruffle straps on your shoulders, the sweetheart neckline hinting at full cleavage, the dress’ light hem hitting indecently high on your thighs in playful flirty wisps.

But it’s the stretchy knit fabric’s complete inability to disguise any curve or meaty swell that really has Nanami sitting up straighter on the cushions. It’s not layered well enough—almost transparent—and the snug material leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination, from the outline of bright panties that cover the soft spread of your hips to the pert dusky points outlined beneath the bodice. 

Absolutely devastating and on full, confident display and this isn’t fair because he has three chapters left.

He barely registers the “What are you reading?” you offer him over one shoulder as you stroll towards the kitchen area in that swaying, uninhibited saunter that never fails to ignite his senses. Nanami simply sits there transfixed—one hand gripping the spine of his book while the other claws restlessly against his own inner thigh. Each roll of your hips has that thin dress swishing and lifting in tiny torturous glimpses that have his imagination veering wildly into unrestrained territory. But he’s at home, that’s okay right?

That’s when you shift your weight onto the tips of your toes, your back turned to him, stretching up towards the top cabinets with one hand braced against the counter…and the entire world seems to judder to a halt all over again. Because from this new vantage point, Nanami can’t tear his eyes away from the call of your legs, the dimples on the backs of your thighs, up, up to the hem and—

A guttural sound wrenches free from low in his diaphragm, a mix of a groan and a growled curse. He looks back down to his book, searching aimlessly for where he left off, flickering back over to you just as quick.

He should look away, tear his eyes off of the gloriously indecent picture you’ve unwittingly created simply by existing. And yet…Nanami finds his stare burning an increasingly blazing trail down the bewitching ‘V’ between your shoulder blades, past the delicious dip of your arched lower back to the toned flare of your thighs and calves below.

At one point, you bend even deeper at the waist, hips tilting up as you struggle to reach a particularly elusive item on the high shelf. The filmy yellow skirt jumps and flirts up with the motion, granting Nanami a shameless eyeful of toned thighs and the flash of his favorite pair of panties—lilac with lace along the edges that squeeze the skin of your ass in the most inviting way. He very nearly drops the book from his suddenly slack fingers at the sight, hissing out a low curse between his teeth.

You huff out an adorable sound of frustration as you fail to reach whatever item you’re going for, and he knows he should step in to assist like the gentleman he is. But his stare remains rooted to spot, ogling and committing it all to memory so he can think about it later—alone.

“Let me get that,” he finally manages to scrape out, voice gone low and gritty with naked yearning despite his best efforts at nonchalance. 

You shoot him one of those bright, beaming smiles over your shoulder in response—blissfully unaware of the effect your glowing, ethereal beauty has on him even without your intentional teasing. “Just grabbing the flour for dinner,” you explain sheepishly, leaning into his broad form as he comes up behind you and grabs the ingredient on the top shelf. “I always have trouble reaching.”

And isn’t that just symbolic as all hell? His curvy, tempting beloved constantly hovering just beyond his reach these past few weeks—unattainable without discarding every last vestige of control he has. It isn’t like you both don’t have sex. You do…often. There’s just always been a build up, never anything explosive.

Even in the privacy of your home, he’s never thrown caution to the wind. Nanami has always been one to savor every calculated build of pleasure in its precious sequence. You’ve expressed your satisfaction readily enough, reciprocating his passion with that same rapturous abandon you bring to all aspects of life. But in all the years of his tiring, overworked life, you are the first to show him what it feels like to never walk a predetermined line.

“This is…I’ve never seen you wear it inside,” Nanami manages, his throat feeling increasingly dry as his eyes trace the line of fabric on your shoulders.

You take the flour from him, shooting him a sly, knowing look from beneath your lashes as you turn to face him fully. “It’s a little stuffy in here, don’t you think?”

He can’t stop the reflexive glance that rakes over every inch of you. “It’s sixty-eight degrees.”

You lean in a fractional amount—just enough for the swell of your breasts to brush against his shirt as you crane up towards his face. “Well, I run hot,” you murmur, voice dropping into the pits of hell, a throaty register that bypasses Nanami’s higher cognitive functions entirely. 

He’s beyond undone. Frozen in place with desperate, rapturous hunger raging through his very marrow. This close, he can make out the small raised moles on your exposed shoulders, the genetic blemishes that are common for your skin tone. He gets a better view of the rigid peaks of your nipples straining against the thin fabric, practically begging for the heated and dripping touch of his mouth that he’s always more than happy to bestow upon you. 

His fingertips clench and relax at his sides, held back only by tremendous reserves of willpower from reaching out to map and relearn every soft, silken plane of feminine heat and temptation currently being dangled in front of him like a prize he still can’t win.

You take in the undisguised wanting and torment written large across his features with a look of utter satisfaction. Then, before he can formulate some slurred plea for relief, you spin on one heel and saunter out of his reach—hips undulating hypnotically beneath that flimsy gauze of material in an alluring farewell.

Only once you finally disappear around the corner does Nanami manage to sag forwards—palms braced on the counter as he attempts to draw steady lungfuls of air back into his oxygen-starved body.

By the time he plops back on the sofa, and opens the spine of his book, the desire to read is gone.

You take pity on him for a few weeks after that searing afternoon in the kitchen. Your outside adventures are marked by breathable athletic leggings paired with loose tank tops that drape and show you off…but in a far tamer, less flagrantly teasing way than before.

Even at home, the soft cotton shorts and tees you lounge around in provide Nanami some solace—the casual fabrics leaving just enough to the imagination rather than putting every mouth-watering curve on display.

Your usual playful flirtations also seem to be dialed back during this oasis period. As if you’re allowing the poor man a chance to realign his senses and regain some semblance of control. It allows him time to resettle back into some of his usual regimented routines. Without you on a mission at the periphery of his awareness constantly, stoking those primal fires, he finds himself able to slip back into the role of polished, tired professional and attentive partner with relative ease.

Perhaps a bit too easily, if he’s being honest with himself. Because before he can even register the transition, that fleeting grace period seems to dissolve back into the heady summer ether as quickly as it had begun.

The warm evening air smells of charcoal and citronella as Nanami moves through the crowd, trying yet failing to focus on anything but you. All around him, friends and coworkers intermingle while indulging in ice-cold drinks and delicious food fresh off the smoker. He loves food, especially Yuki's cooking when she hosts a barbecue.

But none of it registers tonight.

Because every sensory nerve-ending in his body is completely captivated and overwhelmed by the vision you make in that deep red sundress.

The rich crimson chiffon swirls and caresses over your body in sinuous waves of delicious color. You’re bathed in red, as if rose petals have unfurled and stitched themselves together to form the beautiful dress on your body. It’s a maxi dress that sweeps down to your ankles and kisses the straps of your block heels. Scorching flashes of full thighs are visible through the flowing slits on each side. The deep v-neck dips in a daring drop that leaves your sternum and the inner sides of your breasts achingly exposed. 

Each step you take has the delicate material clinging and drifting in the most hypnotic dance around your heavenly form. Nanami tracks the rhythmic sway of your hips with a burning stare, his control splintering a little more with every toss of your head that allows the deep brown of your skin to wink at him from the column of your neck.

Yuki is already three wine coolers in—not a lot for most, but more than enough for her to throw decorum to the wind. From across the backyard, Choso watches with an indulgent smile as his partner bobs off-beat to the soft music flowing from the speakers.

Choso's expression of pure adoration mirrors the way Nanami looks at you when he thinks no one else is watching. They share that unspoken understanding, that bone-deep contentment of being completely enraptured by the women they love.

At one point, the music shifts, more alcohol disappears, and Yuki is hauling you to the makeshift dance floor of the backyard. Nanami tries, he really, really does. But everything about you makes him stand at attention. Breathing, walking, laughing, smiling at nothing, and now—with just one rock of your hips to the music—his eyes are locked in.

You’ve never been a good dancer. But you’ve also never cared of the expectation to be a good one either. And Yuki is an extroverted pull that makes you sway more, that makes your shoulders roll and laughter to bubble from your lips as you watch your friend make a fool of herself. 

Nanami runs a hand through his thick blonde locks, disrupting the careful part he made before you both left the apartment earlier in the evening. The other hand clutches a glass of scotch a little tighter, the condensation sliding against his fingers before he takes a generous swig, his eyes not once leaving you. 

You can feel him before you even look over, and when you do lock with Nanami’s deep brown gaze from across the yard, you throw him a soft look from beneath your lashes as you slowly roll your hips. It’s the same motion of your hips that he got to feel last night with you straddling him, panting against his lips in the middle of the night.

Outwardly sensual in only a way he can recognize amongst everyone around him. But it’s your rapturous, carefree expression of pure bliss that simultaneously enchants and undoes the last tattered remains of his composure. With every movement, you embody the very essence of feminine energy—raw, joyful, and utterly free. You are a vision of untamed beauty, a wild goddess of the summer night come to life in a swirling dreamscape of rich ruby chiffon. 

The erotic, carnal urge to chase after your swaying, taunting form and haul you away to some shadowed corner where he can divest you of that sinful dress is overwhelming. Swallowing hard, Nanami averts his burning stare for fear of literally combusting on the spot.

“You alright there, buddy?” Yu's familiar voice cuts through the lusty fog, tinged with the warm charm of a couple beers down. “You look like you’re about to swallow your tongue or something.”

“I…excuse me,” is all Nanami can grate out, the remark feeling like fragments of glass as he speaks. He doesn’t wait for a response, simply stalking off through the open patio door and into the thankfully dim and cool interior of Yuki and Choso's home. Anything to escape your enticing presence for even a single moment.

The music and laughter from outside feels muffled as he sinks down onto the living room sofa in the shadows—rubbing distractedly at his thundering chest. But it does nothing to get rid of the vision of you dancing so wantonly and on unrestrained display in that gorgeous ruby sundress. 

Where are you even getting them? Online? Or is there a store that he doesn’t know about? He hasn’t seen other women in the city wearing dresses like you do. But then again…Nanami doesn’t really pay attention unless it’s you. 

His fingers grip the plush armrest of the sofa until the knuckles strain white, breath sawing harsh and ragged from his heaving lungs. Nanami squeezes his eyes shut, forcing himself to visualize anything other than the way that lightweight crimson had drifted and kissed over your thighs that peeked between side slits, the growing sheen of sweat between the generous canvas of your chest, the exposed slope of your neck free of curls—a spot of concealer on the side to hide the mark he gave you last night.

A harsh exhale escapes him as he forces his eyes open, only to instantly regret it. The muted sounds of the party filter in from outside—sweet laughter, the low thrum of bass, the periodic high-pitched squeal of your voice crying out at Yuki to get a hold of herself.

Nanami’s stomach clenches raggedly at that sound, arousal stroking down his spine in sweltering waves. Through the clear glass of the patio door, he can see the way your face lights up in pure rapturous joy as you give in to yourself. The subtle shifts and gyrations of your body in time with the beat, each swivel of your hips like a siren’s call. 

Against his volition, imagination melds into memory, replaying the countless times he’s buried his face between your thighs and simply drank in the celestial sounds of your pleasure until his name was a breathless gasp on your lips. That shrieking cry at Yuki almost the same towards him when he licks at your sensitive nerves one too many times. He forces his gaze away, leans his head back against the sofa and stares up at the ceiling.

The music fluctuates once more, that instantly recognizable intro to the next funky summer hit you adore cuing up. Despite the walls between you, Nanami can still acutely pick up the subtle cadence of your movements in time with that danceable rhythm. He knows the exact choreography of hips and legs that song inspires in you…and his slacks suddenly feel far too confining.

That’s when your voice cuts through the relative quiet like a bolt of lightning, somehow even closer now as you call out—half-playful chiding, half siren’s promise.

“Oh Kentooo…” The singsong inflection has his eyes squeezing shut even as his cock shamefully twitches against it’s restrictive fabric prison. “Where has my favorite salaryman gone off to hide? You know I can’t dance without my partner watching me.”

Gritting his teeth against the dark, full-bodied groan that tries to escape, Nanami hunches forward until his elbows are digging into his thighs. There you stand framed in the patio door, backlit in a devastating silhouette by the lantern lights emanating through the loud yard behind you.

You walk closer in that torturous dress, the double layers trailing languidly behind in currents of fabric that have his throat struggling to swallow. Your stunning frame is practically dripping in sensual confidence and self-assured power. He knows the power you have over him and would sooner swallow his favorite tie than give that up.

The rich carmine floats around you in sinuous waves as you sashay closer to where Nanami sits transfixed on the sofa. And with each step, all manners and decorum that have been taught to him fizzle away with the increasing ache in his jeans.

“Like what you see?” you murmur huskily once you’ve prowled to stand between his legs, allowing Nanami an unfettered view of your neckline, the long gold necklace between your breasts winking at him with each shallow intake of breath. You lift one leg to press a knee onto his powerful thigh—close enough for your perfume to slide down his nostrils and cloud his mind. The slit over your bent knee flutters open in an obscene gap, granting his hooded gaze a glimpse of skin his teeth ache to bite into.

“I asked,” you breathe out in a seductive timbre, near enough for Nanami to actually taste the addictive warmth of your presence on his tongue. “If you like what you see…”

The inhale that rattles through his powerful frame is involuntary. So is the compulsive way his fingertips suddenly flex against the cushion with the overwhelming urge to finally reacquaint himself with the soft temptation of your skin. Others be damned, mannerisms of being a respectful guest falling to the wayside.

Somewhere through the rapidly thickening haze of pure liquid arousal, Nanami manages a jerky nod—unable to summon even the most basic of syllables in response. He swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing convulsively as you arch one delicious eyebrow in a silent challenge. With your beautiful curls pulled up into a high ponytail, he can see the slope of your ears that are adorned with the gold hoops he bought you last month.

Then, before he can gather enough of his scattered wits to chastise you for your behavior, you’re boldly reaching out and capturing one of his clenching fists in a firm grip. A soft grunt rattles up from deep in Nanami’s chest at the heated feel of your palm finally making purchase on his overheated skin.

But his breath hitches in a harsh inhale as you purposefully guide his splayed fingers towards your exposed leg—sliding his hand up excruciatingly slow to caress along the landscape of textures and planes laid out in offering. He expects the generous hem of panties he’s seen time and time again. He knows what they look like in his mind when he teases the edges before slipping inside to graze his fingers along your aching clit. But the calloused pads of his fingertips brush the thin string of a thong instead. And it’s just a single touch that has him wide-eyed, reeling—the edges of his vision dizzying into a hazy fog of aching, inexplicable need. 

You should have come with a manual. Surely there’s a guide to get through the summer months with you? Some sort of text to explain the steps he needs to take to keep himself in control in public?

The rapturous throb of your saphenous vein leaps against his fingertips as you allow him to slant just a hairsbreadth further—close enough to feel the heat of the place he’s been countless times before—close enough to slide a thick finger along fabric he knows is wet.

Only for you to tear your hand away and drop your knee as the sound of Yuki's voice pierces the heavy sensual tension hanging between your bodies.

“There you are!” She calls out cheerfully from the sliding glass door. “My song is on, come dance with me!”

There’s a gentle tuft of laughter from you then—one tinged with dark satisfaction as you drink in the wrecked, wanton expression flaming across Nanami’s features. As if thoroughly enjoying reducing him to this strung-out state of desperation. You could rule the world if given the right resources.

“Yuki, let’s get you some water. You’ve had a little too much to drink…” your voice trails off as you disappear in a rustle of vermilion and sashaying hips with one last loaded look over your bare shoulder. 

He manages a shuddering breath that feels more like sandpaper sliding down his abused lungs. The delicious scent of your perfume still clings to the charged air around him, the phantom-like caress of your dress along his knuckles, the sound of your throaty laugh disappearing back to the party outside. Each ragged exhale has his body subtly canting forward, giving silent chase to your retreating form as if by muscle memory alone. 

This game…this deliciously maddening game you delight in playing has Nanami’s entire being teetering on the razor-thin edge of unraveling completely. Each new summer ensemble seems specifically designed to further tempt and destroy the decades of discipline he’s meticulously cultivated since he was a teenager.

Nanami would think after a relationship or two, he would have steeled himself against falling victim to seduction. And yet, not a single woman from his past could have prepared Nanami for the devastating combination of your radiant beauty and barely-restrained hedonism.

Your laughter calls out to him again, his eyes snapping up to see you smiling as Yuki chugs the glass of water Choso has pressed to her lips. Completely innocent and free of devilish qualities, the fact that Nanami knows that dark side of you makes him fold his arms across his chest, sagging against the sofa and glaring at your form as he wills his erection to go down.

It’s two days before summer’s end when Nanami feels the steadily fraying threads of his self-control finally unravel into oblivion. He’s tried every possible tactic these last few months to stave off the relentless fire of desire you’ve been stoking within him—going for runs, ice cold showers, avoiding you when possible. He’s even resorted to having you model your newest sundress purchases at home in a desperate attempt at desensitizing himself. It all seems incredibly dramatic, but Nanami has no idea what else to do. Nothing has worked against the intoxicating mix of your lively beauty and increasingly bold choices designed to torment him until he’s six feet under.

He had known from the moment he accidentally stumbled upon that fateful periwinkle dress sitting in your laptop’s shopping cart that it would be his undoing. He can still picture with perfect clarity the way the model seemed to shimmer and dance on the screen as he clicked through the product imagery—he pictured it with heart throbbing clarity how it would look on you.

And he still has so many more years left of his life to enjoy.

Without conscious thought, Nanami had swiftly removed the item from the cart—an invasion of privacy that left him nauseous, but a necessary decision if only to spare himself. 

He was stupid to think it would actually work.

So it comes as little surprise to see you boldly flaunting that silken number tonight at the rooftop gala marking his company’s most prosperous quarter yet. The twinkling strings of lantern bulbs and hot summer breezes swirling all around you only heighten the flagging warning that this night won’t end the way he wants. 

As you glide about the rooftop, the pale periwinkle seems to float effortlessly around your body. Like every dress before, this one is no exception, complimenting the deepness of your skin. The whisper-weight fabric lays against your hips and waist, simultaneously shaping and gracefully draping in all the right places.

The thin straps crisscross behind your neck, framing your graceful shoulders and collarbones. As you turn, the silk lifts and drifts around you in a mesmerizing swirl of decadence. It’s another plunging V-neckline, but this dress sits on your body and decolletage with an air of romantic grace. It’s not scandalous like that night at Yuki and Choso's. 

But it’s the back—oh it’s the back that makes his gaze heavy, that makes the organ in his chest beat out of rhythm with every inch he uncovers. Try as he might, it’s absolutely impossible for him to look away from the delicate contours and valleys of your body put on full and enthralling display by this backless dress. From the elegant lines of your throat and shoulders left teasingly bare to the soft inward curve of your arched lower back—the dress is a cruel temptation showcasing every salivating inch of you that he’s spent countless nights worshiping.

It’s beautiful on you, truly and unimaginably beautiful, and it’s a terrible twist of fate that such a simple observation is destroying Nanami from the inside. All that discipline—the cold showers, the extra miles added to his runs, the attempts of desensitization—it’s useless. No matter how hard he tries, he will always notice something new each time he looks at you. And it will always wreck him and throw him off axis whether he likes it or not.

Because amidst all the warmth and sociability of this rooftop celebration, all Nanami’s rapidly sharpening focus can zero in on is the subtle glisten of perspiration trailing down the slope of your spine. Every imperceptible turn and cock of your hip amplified tenfold by the silk that gets to touch you while he watches. As if personally daring him to finally surrender every last shred of patience and simply take what he wants.

A soft chuckle escapes your full lips as Nanami’s boss leans in closer, undoubtedly regaling you with some far from amusing anecdote from the office. The charming sound has every thread of Nanami’s control taut like a bowstring. Because that sound means a lot for him nowadays—laughing at his dry humor, the movies you both watch together, the giggling stuttering into whimpers and moans of ecstasy when your back arches from his tongue.

Suddenly, the light summer breeze kicks up in and swirls around you, waving the hem of your dress and the two-day old twistout on your head. Instinctively, you reach up to tuck a lock of those dark silken twists behind one ear.

Time itself seems to slow as he watches those inky tendrils ghost across your bare shoulders and the exposed skin of your upper back. Nanami watches with visceral hunger as those wild strands make playful, meandering paths across the smoothly toned expanse of brown skin. His entire body instantaneously flushes with hot need and arousal at the simple, harmless image. The soft rise of your breasts shake as you offer a fake laugh to whatever drivel your boss has just said. And in that split second—the culmination of tonight, this dress, the entire summer of taunting and coy smiles— Nanami’s restraint finally shatters into so many useless slivers at his feet.

Before conscious thought can override anything else, he’s stalking across the rooftop with rigid, predatory intensity—adjusting the unique glasses on his nose, his mouth set in a grim line of single-minded focus. The gaggle of chattering coworkers and small-talk banter all fade away into muted static and white noise. All that exists in this heated vortex of Nanami’s rapidly narrowing universe is the coiling pull of you.

“Ah, Nanami!” His boss greets heartily, clearly surprised yet pleased to see the company’s best worker at last. “Your partner and I were just discussing a better way to spruce up the quarterly party for next year. Care to weigh in, my friend?”

The question lands on deaf ears. Because at the exact same instant his professional mentor is extending that olive branch of attempted small talk…your eyes are on his, a knowing, small smile pressed to the hem of your champagne glass as you take a sip. The sight of your jewelry, the fabric against your skin, the way you look at him…the desire that rips through his body is staggering.

“I apologize for interrupting, but I need to speak with you,” he grates out in a tone heavy with gravel and masculine focus. His palm finds the smoldering heat of your lower back without conscious thought, marking delirious patterns of desire against your naked skin. Your eyebrows furrow with a silent question at the rough timbre of his command…even though you see that undisguised storm of hunger and frustrated desire raging behind his tinted glasses.

“Of course,” you finally murmur and turn to his coworkers to wish them goodbye, setting down your glass on the table beside you.

He’s burning, raging with a fever that doesn’t even exist and each shallow inhale draws more of your achingly familiar perfume into his senses—only making things worse.

He guides you through the crowded rooftop party and towards the elevators with a molten intensity bordering on feral. Nanami’s palm maps possessive into the searing expanse of your back. Every step jostles his arm flush against the silk on your frame.

“Where exactly are we going in such a hurry?”

The rich, seductive rasp of your voice is designed to torture him further, but Nanami doesn’t rise to it, simply presses fingers more firm to your back, his other punches the elevator button with purpose.

“I said I need to speak with you,” he finally bites out. “That should be more than enough.”

You lean further into his touch and look up at him, your tongue darts out to toy with your plush bottom lip in a show of faux innocence.

“Is that so?” The melodic lilt coupled with the ghost of your warm breath fanning across Nanami’s jaw would have been enough to make a lesser man’s knees buckle entirely. Instead, it simply ratchets the tension coiling through his powerful frame into a downright maddening degree.

The soft chime of the arriving elevator makes you both turn in tandem, the mirror of the elevator doors casting your reflections—allowing Nanami to drink in the smoldering fire already blazing behind your heavy-lidded stare. There’s profound hunger glimmering there that matches his own. An unadulterated wildness reined in by the thinnest veneer of coy indifference. You’ve always been slick—but not tonight.

The mirrored doors slide open with a hushed mechanical shush, you both step inside, and the doors slide closed. 

Nanami offers a silent apology for the violation of manners his parents instilled in him before he backs you into the far wall—the breath punching out of your lungs as your back makes shocking contact with the mirrored paneling. Now it’s you breathless, struggling to compose yourself as the masculine power of Nanami consumes you.

A subtle shudder ripples through Nanami’s abdomen as you wantonly tilt your head back, arching your throat in wordless invitation just as your fingertips rise to trail heated lines over his heaving chest. The lapels are black as midnight, the undershirt a crisp white, and he’s the handsome man that’s all yours even as he fights between what’s right and what he wants. One of his palms is cupping the slope of your jawline as the other maps out the silk of your dress. He bends slowly until the heat of his mouth is tracing the full curve of your parted lips—a heavy brush of sculpted male confidence against your teasing softness. 

“You’ve pressed against my boundaries to a criminal degree, love,” Nanami warns in a dark rasp scorched with the first cinders of the firestorm yet to come. His palm slides up the bare inward curve of your back until his fingers are tunneling through the wild riot of your twistout at the nape of your neck. Tinted eyes slit in satisfaction as your head tips back farther on a shaky inhale—granting him access to the deliciously vulnerable length of your throat.

“Nothing to say?” he husks out in the open, admiring the flutter of your lashes as his voice hits you. Nanami’s mouth brands a hot trail from the sensitive juncture of your jaw up towards the shell of your ear. You whimper softly at the slow, torturous build—the same sound of rapture he has memorized and pulled from you countless times between the sheets. It’s enough to strip away any lingering reservations entirely. 

With the strength he’s never ashamed to show you, hands slide under your thighs and he yanks you up. Your legs wrap around him on instinct, your arms winding around his neck, your head tilting back again to smack on the mirrored glass. 

His tongue glides along the buttery curve of your throat, tasting the familiar tang of salt and vanilla on the tip and the smell of him, of pure Nanami clouds your mind enough to finally look down at him, your noses a hairsbreadth from each other. It’s a silent standoff, your eyes as teasing as they are filled with arousal, his eyes dark with something that makes you shiver against him. 

And then he’s kissing you, deep and hungry, his hands roaming the bare expanse of your back, dipping lower, pulling you closer. You melt into Nanami’s kiss, your initial surprise giving way to a matching hunger. Your hands slip under his suit jacket, feeling the heat of his skin through his shirt. He groans against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you, igniting your nerves, thrumming in your veins.

You don’t even hear the elevator doors open but you feel him walking, lips hot and demanding groaning into you as you slide your fingers into his golden locks and pull. Nanami knows these floors like the back of his hand, and he’s familiar with the abandoned break room on the thirtieth floor, his hand yanking the door open and shutting it hard, lips never leaving yours. 

You gasp into his mouth when your ass lands on the old buttons of a copier, the machine groaning under your weight, the plastic buttons beeping in protest. As Nanami presses you against the copier, he can’t help but marvel at the feel of you beneath his hands. The dress, this damn dress, is like water under his fingers, smooth and cool and entirely too thin. He can feel every curve, every contour, every shuddering breath you take. 

He punctuates his actions with a roll of his hips, pressing his hardness that strains against his slacks against your core. You moan, your head falling back, and he takes advantage of your exposed neck, his lips and teeth worrying the sensitive skin, his tongue licking the marks he leaves.

“How many more dresses do you have?” he growls against your throat, his voice rough with need. “How many more ways are you going to torture me?”

You gasp as his teeth graze your pulse point, your fingers threading into his hair. “T-that depends,” you manage, your voice breathy. Nanami’s chuckle is dark, dangerous, his hands trailing higher, dipping into the seam of your panties, his fingers brushing over your clit. He savors the way your jerk against him, a whimper leaving your throat as you pant into the dusty air.

“Is this what you wanted? To reduce me to this? A man so desperate for you he’d take you in a public place?”

“Yes,” you hiss, arching into his touch, your breasts pressing against the thin silk that covers them. “Yesyesyes...”

Nanami’s groan is part frustration, part desire. “You have no idea what you do to me.” There’s a hint of wonder in his voice, a note of awe at the depth of his own need. His fingers press more insistently, circling, gathering your slick to make each stroke more messy and impactful, driving you towards the edge. The buttons of the copier dig into your skin, the machine whirring and beeping beneath you, adding to the crescendo of sensation. He can hear the mechanical shuffle of papers being chucked out from one end, slapping onto the floor.

“Do you like this?” Nanami pants, his breath hot against your ear. “Do you like teasing me, driving me crazy?”

“Yes,” you admit, free of shame, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Please, Kento.”

He slides two fingers into your wet heat, savoring your wanton gasp, increases the pressure, the speed of his fingers, pushing you closer to the precipice. “Have you done this before?” he asks, his voice raw with emotion. “Teased other men like this, made them want you so badly they’d forget themselves?”

“No,” you moan desperately, your head thrashing from side to side, deep locks brushing your cheeks. “Never. It’s only ever been you, Kento. Only you.”

“Say it again,” he demands, his teeth grazing your earlobe.

“Only you,” you pant. “I’m yours, Kento. Completely.”

It doesn’t take long—countless strokes inside of you, a curl of his fingers, a twist of his wrist, and you shatter. Your cry of pleasure mixes with the beeps and groans of the copier, your body shaking, your fingers digging harder into Nanami’s shoulders that he’s sure you’ve broken the barrier. 

He holds you through it, his lips on your skin, his murmured praises in your ear, soft litanies of words that has made you fall deeper in love with him each passing day. You don’t get a chance to come down fully because he’s on you again, pressing closer, pushing your panties to the side and digging his fingers into the meat of your hips. But the angle is wrong, you’re too high and the copier digs into his thighs and impedes him from getting to you the way he wants.

With a grunt of frustration, Nanami lifts you off the machine. Your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you to the conference table. He sweeps aside the accumulated debris with one arm, sending sugar and tea packets scattering to the floor. Your back hits the table, the hard surface unyielding beneath you. Plastic cups crunches and snaps under your weight, sugar and coffee creamer powder puffing into the air, settling on your heated skin.

“Do you have any idea,” he murmurs, soaking in the radiance you beam up at him, “how many times I’ve imagined this? Pulling you away from everyone, getting my hands on you…not being able to do it because I’m better than that.”

You moan as he nips at your collarbone, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. “And yet here you are,” you tease, breathless with twinkling eyes that shine right through him.

He captures your lips again, the kiss deep and demanding. You arch into him, your hands throwing off his glasses—they smack against a wall—your fingers deftly undoing his tie, working on the buttons of his shirt. You need to feel his skin against yours, need to be closer, and he shudders at the feel of your warm hands breaching the open buttons, sliding up his bare chest.

As if reading your mind, Nanami reaches for the zipper of your dress, slowly pulling it down. The fabric parts, baring more of your skin to his heated gaze. He takes a moment to admire you, his eyes roaming your body like a physical caress.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, almost to himself. Then his hands are on you, tracing your curves, fingers brushing your nipples before he gives them a pinch. A whimper shakes from you, your fingers pressing into his bare chest.

Dimly, he’s aware that he should stop this, that he’s in a public place, at a work event. But the heat of your body, the insistence of your touch, the mounting pleasure coursing through his veins—it all conspires to drown out reason.

Your hands fumble with his belt, your fingers shaking with need. He helps you, impatiently pushing his pants and boxers down just enough. And then he’s touching you, his fingers digging into your hips, sliding you closer to him until the tip of him presses to the sopping wet heat of your center, wet from your orgasm and still ready.

“Please,” you whimper, hardly recognizing your own voice. “Please, Kento…”pushing your dress further up your hips, trailing over your ribs, cupping your breasts until the skin spills between the gaps. His eyes widen at the sight, the base of his spine heating up. So many times he’s seen you like this in the privacy of your home, and now it’s in an old break room at his workplace, the consequence of you finally taking things too far.

He’s free of any feral energy as he kisses you, sliding into your welcoming heat slowly to acquaint himself again. Your fingers dig into his skin, your chest pressing into him as you adjust, the table creaking under your joined weight as you wrap your legs around his waist and dig your silver heels into his back. Soon he’s moving above you, within you, each thrust pushing you higher, each thrust fanning the fire within himself.

“Please,” you whisper against his lips, begging again for the unspoken demand of more. And even though the roles are reversed right now—you the one being teased—he gives you whatever you ask.

He sets a pace that’s just shy of punishing, each snap of his hips brushing his zipper against the inside of your thighs. The room fills with the sounds of sex—the slap of skin on skin, your gasps and moans, his grunts into the air. He cannot believe he’s in this moment, doing something so scandalous.

“You reduce me to this,” he pants against your lips. “It’s not fair.”

“I know,” you gasp, your hands pulling at open lapels of his shirt, squeezing around the buttons, the fabric groaning. “I’m sorry.”

But you’re not, he can tell. There’s a hint of satisfaction in your voice, a touch of pride. And why shouldn’t there be? You’ve brought him, the ever-controlled Nanami Kento, to his knees. He loves you too much to ever want anything different.

“I’m a good man,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you, curving his next thrust that he knows will brush against that spot you like.

“You’re an amazing man, Ken,” you moan in surprise, your hips lifting to meet his to seek more. “The best. Only the best for me. Only you, Kento.”

The praise makes him shake, the fire in his body raging like an inferno, burning his skin, breaking him into a sweat. He presses a knee into the table, throws one of your legs over his shoulders and savors the ragged way your name leaves his lips as he gives you everything.

“You feel so good,” he pants, his tongue licking the skin of your neck. He tastes the saltiness of your sweat, the sanitizing taste of perfume, the powdered creamer and sugar that sticks to your skin from the table. “So perfect.”

“Come on, Kento” you keen, your nails raking down the suit on his back. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

He doesn’t. Couldn’t, even if he wanted to. He’s lost in you, in the feel of you, in the knowledge that he’s the only one who gets to see you like this. Wanton, needy, completely undone.

Nothing else matters—not the party going on just floors above, not the risk of discovery, not the propriety you’re both abandoning. In this moment, there’s only you and him and the heat that’s consumed you both all summer, finally finding release.

Nanami’s thrusts become erratic, his rhythm faltering as the base of his spine tightens in a delicious way to let him know that he’s close. His hand slips between your bodies, past the silk of your rumpled periwinkle dress, gliding over your clit in well-practiced strokes and the leg over his shoulder tenses up, your head digging into the table, neck arching for him to see the flecks of sugar sticking to your neck. 

“Ohhh right there Kento. Right there. Please, please I’m gonna cum—I’m—“ you smack a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself, eyes shutting tight.

“Absolutely not.” Nanami hasn’t suffered for months just to be deprived of anything during this encounter. He yanks the hand from your mouth, pressing it hard into the table, and the shock on your face as you look up at him, the staccato of your breaths, the undeniable seriousness in his gaze even as he pistons into you, admiring the way your dress pools at your waist as he gives you more, harder, deeper until—

“Ohhhh fuck!” you cum with a long dragged out cry, your body clenching around him, walls locking around his cock to the point his orgasm is yanked from him as he falls over the edge with you, pulsing deep inside with a groan muffled against your neck.

He sags against you, both of your chests heaving against each other. He slips a hand behind you, trailing lightly up and down your glistening back as you lie beneath him, spent and satisfied.

As he slowly comes down, he presses a lingering kiss to your sweat-dampened hairline, the roots of your twistout beginning to frizz. There’s a hint of coconut from your leave-in as his nose brushes down to your cheek. So familiar, yet still so intoxicating after almost a year of smelling it. As if he could ever grow numb to the potent lure of your presence.

A ragged chuckle escapes him at that thought, the mirthful rumble making you pull up your head to look at him. Nanami drinks in the utterly debauched vision you make—beautiful brown sweaty skin, hair messy, lips swollen and smirking as per usual.

His arm tightens reflexively around the sensual curves of your waist, pulling you closer in a subconscious gesture of possession and longing. Because for all the delicious torture you’ve inflicted over the past few months with your endless parade of tempting summer dresses…he wouldn’t trade this hard-won moment for anything.

Nanami is many things—disciplined, regimented, a hardworking—albeit tired— professional. But he is also only human at his core. And you, his beautiful free-spirit of a partner, has a simply breathtaking talent for awaking the primal, unrestrained parts of him he usually keeps so rigorously leashed.

“You know,” you murmur in that velvety voice he loves so much. “The minute I realized the dress vanished from my cart was the minute I knew it would be the one.”

A sleepy chuckle breaks free from his lips at your words, the sound causing you to join in as well—a vibrant melody that coats his soul in pure contentment. Nosing closer, he peppers a line of feather light kisses along the line of your jaw. “You’ll never go easy on me, will you?”

“And rob myself of bringing down Nanami Kento piece by piece?” You snort, shooting him a look of pure, playful sin from beneath your lashes. “I might have to make sundress season a year-round thing.”

His answering groan is part growl, part disbelieving laughter as the palm behind your back glides along the elegant curve of your spine down to the bend of your hip. Ever the devilish temptress without even trying, even in the aftermath.

“You’ll be the death of me.”

“That’s a good way to go,” you tease, pulling him down for another kiss, sweet and sticky and full of promise.

His hands slide along the canvas of your body, fingers dipping into the ridges of the open zipper of your dress. He’ll make sure it’s dry cleaned so you can wear it next year. And hopefully he’ll be better prepared.

When you giggle against his lips and dig your heels into his back, he realizes that there will be no amount of preparation when it comes to you.

Thanks for reading!

[absoluteindulgence]

Please for the love of LOVE read this!!! Courtney is such a great writer and we need more Nanami Kento fix in these fan fiction streets 😭💕💗✨️

Fic Masterlist

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Female Reader

Genre: Fluffy Smutty Romance, Unplanned Pregnancy/Sort of Enemies to Lovers AU

CW: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Baby Daddy Nanami Kento, Unplanned Pregnancy, Slow Burn, Minor Character Death, Angst/Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, MINORS DNI

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

Summary: 

You probably shouldn’t have slapped him.

But you didn’t care. He deserved it after days of dismissive remarks and hard glares to everything you worked so hard for.

“I’m pregnant. I don’t want your help. I don’t need your help. The fact that you’re the father is more than enough to keep me away from you.”

or: Despite your differences and frustrations with one another, you share a drunk but passionate night tangled in the sheets. But now, five weeks later, you and Nanami Kento have no choice but to navigate a rocky relationship while also embracing the new responsibilities of parenthood that lay ahead.

Author’s Notes: This is my very first fic and a WIP. I have two more chapters left. This entire process has been a journey and there will always be things that I can improve on. But for now, please enjoy. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I love writing it! <3

~Those Moments In Between - moments that take place during and after It Had To Be You.~

Chapter Summaries:

Thank you all for coming on this journey with me. Feel free to leave a comment to let me know your thoughts. Or send me a message if you want! Love you all <3

Chapter 1: Your life comes to a startling halt when you realize the abrasive and dismissive man you shared a passionate but drunken night with is now the father of your child.

Chapter 2: That first day when you meet him, you’re bright eyed and ready to work alongside him, filled with so many ideas that will benefit the company. Him, Nanami Kento, a highly esteemed director that always made your stomach flip in desire. But it turns out, he’s not what you thought. Flashback

Chapter 3: When it comes to work, Nanami likes to follow a specific code for people like you. And he would like to think it’s working so far. But one too many drinks and things change. Flashback

Chapter 4: When you think you’re a step ahead to keep Nanami out of your way, your world comes crashing down and makes it harder for you to decide to break the news.

Chapter 5: You want nothing to do with him. Nanami wants to make the right decision. 

Chapter 6: You catch subtle glimpses of another side of Nanami. You both come together to meet the life you have created together. A traumatic part of your life makes itself known. 

Chapter 7: Pregnancy hormones get the best of you. You are given a big opportunity in your company. But it’s not what it seems.

Chapter 8: You deal with the fallout. An unexpected visitor puts your life in jeopardy. Nanami tries to pick up the pieces. 

Chapter 9: You make a life change and show a side of yourself that you never wanted to entertain. Nanami asks you to dinner. 

Chapter 10: You catch a glimpse of the growing life within. A home cooked meal and a searing kiss.

Chapter 11: Nanami gifts you with something that sets a new course in your life. When confessions are finally laid on the table, you both give in.

Chapter 12: A vulnerable moment with each other. A baby shower. An accident that throws Nanami’s life in disarray.

Chapter 13: You and Nanami navigate through grief.

Chapter 14: A birthday, a confession, and a new addition.

Chapter 15: You and Nanami navigate through the first months of parenthood. Nanami gives you an amazing birthday gift. A surprising encounter with someone from Nanami’s past makes you unsure of yourself.

Chapter 16:  The last person you ever wanted to see pries into your life. Nanami makes a life changing decision. Your hard work finally pays off.

Chapter 17: You work hard to bring life to something dear to Nanami.

Chapter 18: You help Nanami on the anniversary of Yu's death. Nanami finally works up his courage during a warm day of Sakura season.

Chapter 19 (Epilogue): Things finally come together.

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

[absoluteindulgence]

toji taught you how to ride dick and how to ride it good, to the point where his toes were curling, his eyes were rolling to the top of his eyelids, and his hands were gripped onto your ass for dear life. 

once you were on top, you couldn’t stop; his mouth would get dry and his hands would get sweaty as he watched your every move, waiting for you to do something. first you’ll tease him and slowly slide yourself up and down on him, and when he's caught off guard, you'll quicken the pace. 

his eyes fluttering as he tries to catch up to you, but at that time he was already going to finish. he hated when you were on, but he loved how it made him feel. how your pussy felt sliding up and down on him as he tried to keep his moans to a minimum, but you knew how good it made him feel and how he needed a break from beating your pussy in from the back, so this was the next best choice. 

at first, you were nervous to get on top because you didn’t know what you were doing, but toji changed that around real quick and taught you. telling you how to move your hips and to keep your feet planted and not to slam down on him too hard, the whole course, and just like that, you learned how to ride him so well that he was whimpering. 

his hands changing from your hips to your ass every second to see which was more stable for him to keep his hands on, deciding to just keep his hands on your ass because it felt better. 

sometimes you would get carried away though, your hands planted on his shoulders, and you started to slam down on his harder, the tip of his dick touching your sweet each time, making your stomach cave in and your stomach swarm with butterflies.

“slow… go slow.” trying to tell you to slow the fuck down, but you were worried about finishing on his dick, toji was way ahead of you when you felt his cum leak into you and slide down your aching core, slamming back into you. this was the quickest way to make him cum, if you were bouncing up and down on him for a minute, then just know he was going to cum in the next one. 

that’s what makes him so cute sometimes; he just couldn’t resist you even if he wanted to, his eyes going dark whenever you leaned down to give him a kiss, his cum leaking into you over and over again. 

mr. tough guy that finished in under five minutes whenever you were bouncing up and down on him while he held his breath, trying to focus on anything and everything else. there was something about that position that made him want to finish inside of you and not apologize or have any regrets about it. it’s like you were tighter whenever you were tight, wrapped around him as you slid up and down quickly, giving him no time to react. 

if he didn’t have time to react, he would whimper under you, your hand sliding on his face and your lips on his giving him a peck as you go faster. toji would even beg you not to go fast so that he could have the mental strength to at least try not to cum from you bouncing up and down on him, but you never listened. that's what made riding him fun. 

since he taught you how to ride him, what better way to pay him back than to make him cum from just that? and he hated that you reminded him of that. he should’ve just kept you in the dark about how to ride him, but then he wouldn’t have you wrapped around him like you are now; he just hated how he reacted to your every touch. 

“fuck… baby, just slow it down, please.” words that would usually never come out of his mouth slipped out when his cum was inching towards the tip of his dick. he was begging you to slow down, and even though it was cute, you just couldn’t give him what he wanted. this was a sight you barely got to see, so you tried to milk him out as much as you could while you were on top of him. 

the results were stunning. 

his cum leaking out of you every time you bounced on him, fucking his cum deep inside of you while more poured out of him. 

one time tears were pouring out of his eyes form how good you were riding him. he didn’t even want you to stop until he noticed that tears were sliding down his cheeks. even though he wanted you to stop, you didn’t. 

and so you kept going until your legs were giving out and weak, his chest rising and falling as he blabbered to himself how much he hated you but what he actually meant was. 

“i love you so much.”

[absoluteindulgence]

This is gonna be so damn good! Of course, I'm rooting for Toji and Nanami😭😭😭😭😭

𝕄𝔸𝕊𝕋𝔼ℝ𝕃𝕀𝕊𝕋

Dear Reader, Congratulations!!! It is our pleasure to inform you that you have been selected as the next Bachelorette!

Pairing: JJK Men x Female Reader

Summary: You had no idea what you were getting into when you applied for this show. You certainly hadn't expected to actually be picked! But all you can do is hope each of these men are here for the right reasons. Will you be able to find love among the many Jujutsu sorcerers who are (hopefully) here to compete for your heart?

STORY TWIST: READERS WILL VOTE AFTER CERTAIN CHAPTERS TO CHOOSE WHO GETS A ROSE AND MAKES IT TO THE NEXT WEEK. KEEP A LOOKOUT FOR THE VOTING LINK AT THE END OF CHAPTERS

Story Warning: DRAMA, lying and scheming, profanity bc I can only be me, arguments, fights probably, heartbreak and tears, (more to come)

Artist Credit: momoya348, Umbra3terna, ilameys,maoyaoyao519, _0_0219 Divider Credit: Cafekitsune (Tumblr)

Episode Guide:

Episode 0.5 - Too Much to Drink

Episode 1 - Introductions Pt. 1

Episode 2

Episode 3

Episode 4

Episode 5

...

[absoluteindulgence]

Oh to be loved on by these two men, I dedicate a whole week if I could

𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐞 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫! | t. fushiguro + k. nanami

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Taking your daughter to a sleepover with her best buds is easy peasy; ending up staying over at said sleepover to have some fun of your own with the two single dads you're crushing on? Not so much...

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: dilfs! Toji + Nanami x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; single parents au - implied you + Nanami are in early 30s; Toji is in late 30s - Tsumiki (age 10), Megumi, Yuuji and Nobara (8) - mutual pining/crushing - fluff then SMUT then fluff - kissing/making out - mutual masturbation (m! + f! receiving) - breast fondling + nipple play + sucking - Daddy kink - threesome - double penetration; anal and vaginal - spoon/sidesaddle dp + reverse cowgirl dp positions - clitoral play (swiping) - praise - breeding kink - cervix fucking - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy; don't be silly) - pet names (angel, baby, good girl, love, mama, sweetheart, sweetie) - Nobara is your daughter; Yuuji is Nanami's - mention of drool/spit and tears.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.8k (Christ almighty...)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: based on this ask from one of my anons; so happy to be writing an actual fic after a month, yippeee!! and tysm for 7.7k, my loveliesss!!

“Hahah, I win again!”

“No fair, I used the aerials like you taught me, what!?

“Yeah, but there’s no point using them if you’re just gonna let Itadori counter.”

“Shut up, Megumi! Hey, Yuuji, one more time!”

“Hey, keep it down, you three.” You warn the children who cause a ruckus in the living room from the dining table. 

There’s nothing wrong with hanging with friends or going to someone’s house to play. Children are highly encouraged to do so to form deeper relationships! It’s what you’d want for your child, your sweet daughter poking out of her public shyness now that she’s playing video games with two of her best friends at a playdate.

Your daughter, Nobara, heard your warning and swerved her head back to apologize. “Sorry, momma! Itadori’s just cheating!”

“No, I’m not!” The pink-haired boy sitting next to your brunette daughter on the living room floor retorts. “She just sucks at playing!”

“Why you…” The two kids glare and argue to themselves while another sits on the living room couch and sighs at the interaction before him. Megumi was his name, the raven-haired boy putting his attention back on the animal encyclopedia he was reading. 

You chuckle before speaking again, “Well, cheating or not, keep your voices down, okay? Tsumiki is trying to do her homework.”The kids nod and return to their fun on the television; the sounds of controller buttons mashing and clicking fill the absence of their voices, and you go back to what you were primarily doing. “Need any help there, Tsumiki?”

The fourth grader perks up from using her name, flashing a weary smile in your direction. “I’m trying to find these countries for my quiz on Monday, but where are Colombia and Guyana…?” The paper before the little girl exhibited a blank sheet with a map of the North and Southern American continents; a word bank is provided to the side with a list of countries. 

Getting up from your chair, you walk to the vacant side where Tsumiki is and sit alongside her. “Hmm, let’s look at this together…”

This wasn’t your home; it belonged to the father of Yuuji Itadori. Staying during your daughter’s playdates was a rarity, particularly in another parent’s house. Yet today is a Friday, and you didn’t really have much to do other than clean the apartment and maybe catch up on a show or two. Besides, it didn’t hurt to watch the kids play and laugh now and then.

Luckily, you aren’t the only parent here; two other parents are taking out of their day to monitor the kids with you! The only problem is that…they make your stay a bit difficult.

Footsteps are heard descending the hall from the bedrooms, and your eyes peer to find a man walking into the kitchen area. “How’s studying going?” Golden blonde hair was the first you see, followed by the pleasant look of his chocolate brown eyes. A slim-fit grey long-sleeved shirt hugs his frame well, accompanied by dark-fitted jeans and dress socks. Kento Nanami, Yuuji’s adoptive father, has entered the scene and has made your heart skip to an irregular tune.

Thankfully, saving you from making a fool, Tsumiki answers the man. “Good, Auntie Y/n is helping me remember countries of South America!” She says with a blinding smile. 

“Is that so?” Nanami opens a cupboard to pull out a glass to pour water. “You think you’ll be okay for the quiz?”

“Mmmm, if I remember five countries out of ten, I should be fine. I know more, thanks to Y/n!”

“Good,” your breath hitches when he walks to stand behind the chair you were sitting on. “And how are those three?” 

You cough before averting your gaze to the living room. “They’re fine,” you watch your daughter exclaim in glory after finally beating Yuuji in the video game. The salmon-haired child groans in defeat, standing up to switch with Megumi so the other can play. “Nobara loves playing with the boys; they make her competitive spirit wild. It’s funny because she’s usually quiet and soft-spoken around me and others. However, that doesn’t explain her track record with terrorizing the boys of the school…”

Nanami chortles at your observation, the sound almost hypnotizing you. “Children bring out a different side in each other, helps them grow.”

“Wise words—“  

Grrooorrr!

You both stop at the sound of a rumble, glancing at Tsumiki to see that it is her grumbling stomach. The child chews her quivering lip and hides her face by looking back at her homework. You giggle, “You hungry?” She nods slowly. “Me too, sweetie; the pizza should be here any minute.”

“That’s odd,” Nanami takes a sip from his glass. “He said the food would be done by the time he’s off work. It’s almost 7 o’clock, is there traffic on—“

KA-CHA! CLACK-CLINK!

“Yo, I’m here with the pizzas,” another voice, a lot lower and gruff than the blonde’s, enters the space. Your heart skips again, and you instinctively turn to find the source — you know who the source is. 

Giant steps draw near the kitchen area, keys rustle as he stuffs them inside his jeans pocket, and the other hand holds three pizza boxes. After putting the food on the kitchen island, the man scratches his onyx head and stretches. His loose-fit cotton sweatshirt slips for a peak of his abs to be seen, and your eyes pull back before they hook onto the tanned skin for too long. Green eyes capture yours, and a smirk uproots the scar on the right of his lips. “Hey, Y/n,” the way he says your name pulls you in. “Good thing I caught ya before you could leave.”

You gulp to wet a dry throat. “It’s good to see you, too, Toji.”

Toji Fushiguro, the father of Tsumiki and Megumi, strides from the island down to where you three are, ruffling his daughter’s brown hair as a greeting. “How’s homework goin’?”

She swats her father’s hand away, fixing her ponytail. “It’s okay, I’m just hungry now.”

On that note, you decided it was time for everyone to take a break and eat. “All right, kids, the pizza’s here; come over and eat!” Nobara wastes no time springing out of the couch and sprints for the dining chair next to Tsumiki after you stand to grab the paper plates. 

The boys don’t move, eyes glued to the screen and fingers moving across the controllers. Nanami tries to get their attention again, only for Yuuji to excuse themselves for a few minutes. The golden-haired father looks to the other before giving him a curt nod, a signal for Toji to walk to where the boys were sitting and turn off the television. They groan in unison before the black-haired man picks them up effortlessly and waltzs back to the dining table. “Time to eat, squirts.”

You have known Nanami for a long time, meeting him around when Nobara was still aged by months and could barely walk. Being a first-time parent is no easy task, especially since the man took Yuuji as his own after the death of the baby’s parents and grandfather when he was just a newborn. The transition from sober salaryman to committed fatherhood wasn’t an gradual one. But you know what they say: it takes a village, no matter how big or small. You found Nanami at the perfect time while you took care of Nobara, lending a helping hand to the single guardian whenever he needed advice or help looking after the pink-haired babe. He’d return the favor, of course, having you two spending and getting to know more about each other throughout the years. So, as the babies grew and became friends, so did you and him. 

Toji entered your life around the same time as well; a single father of two was just as [if not more] challenging as your scenario. Not to mention – the poor man had to work ungodly hours, sometimes calling up a friend to look after his kids. You felt for him, even Nanami, so you’d help him out as well whenever he needed it, whether it be picking up Tsumiki and dropping her off at daycare or rocking three-month-old Megumi to sleep and waiting for the father to return home safely deep in the night.

Without the hood of parenthood, you three wouldn’t have become such good friends. Although there have been rough moments, at least you had the two to share and relate with if necessary. You’re so thankful for both fathers being in your life, serving as dependable outlets as you three grow along with your children. And it’s an even bigger blessing watching the kids have become great friends — practically inseparable! Words cannot express the gratitude for Nanami and Toji, treasuring the men so much that you’d love to maintain this mutual relationship with them as long as possible.

Being friends is more than enough; however, a tiny piece of yourself wishes something more to come out of this friendship. Admitting that to yourself is enough to have your ears heat up in shame. Crushing on the two fathers like some school girl, how embarrassing…

But can you blame yourself? As you all sit down and eat around the dinner table, you find it hard to restrict your eyes from wandering to either side of the table where the men sit. 

Don’t get it twisted; you’ve always thought of the dads to be attractive men. However, the more time you’ve spent visiting and getting to know them, you’ve found that they’ve become more and more charming as the years go by. Now, it has gotten a lot worse.

Nanami is so entrancing to the eye — damn near looks as if he walked out of a movie set. His mocha eyes were so soft and perfect with his mellow tone. The charismatic blonde easily played with your heart with how attentive he was, making sure if you and Nobara ever needed anything or ever wanted someone to voice with. God, he was too good to be true, it was hard not to fall in love with him — you were honestly mesmerized the moment he first said your name. Now, solely seeing him is enough to make your ears hot and your heart race. Your admiration for him threatens to dwell into that of a childish crush — how mortifying! 

And Toji — fuck, that man. Aside from having a body literally sculpted like an Olympic athlete, the dark-haired man was somebody who knew how to wind you down. Maybe it was the baritone voice that always captured your attention or the mischievous jokes and flirts he’d throw your way; whatever it was, Toji knew how to draw you in. Sure, you were a little intimidated by him at the start, but that’s long been substituted with feelings of trust and mutual respect from seeing how much of a good father he tries to be for his children. Although, the more you hear his gruff laugh, see his smile pull the scar, or forest green eyes drilling holes into your very being, the more you want to slap yourself for thinking about him day by day!

Goddamn it! As you sit at this table chewing on your pizza slice with the others, all you can think about is how pathetic you must be for falling for the two heartthrobs of your life. It’s appalling how these two fathers have yet to snatch up somebody, knowing there would be lines of people wanting a piece of them. And you sigh heavily, thinking if there’s ever a possibility you’d be lucky enough to be on the receiving end with either.

Probably not…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Annnnd BAM! UNO!”

“What?? You’re cheating!”

“Am not! You can put draw twos on plus fours!”

“Hah!? That’s not in the rules!”

“So? That’s how my mom plays.”

Why am I being brought into this… You shake your head as you observe the kids play their final card game before bed. All the children are dressed in their respective pajamas, sitting in a circle around couch pillows as they draw and place cards down. The sunset has long been set as the hour hand touches the eleventh number; the kids usually go to bed at eight or nine. But it’s the weekend and meant to be a sleepover, so one or two more hours of fun shouldn’t hurt anyone.

“UNO Out!!” Except for the heavy groans shared with Megumi and Yuuji as Nobara finishes the card game with an enthusiastic slam, turning around to give the older brunette a high five. “See, Tsumiki? I told you I can handle it!”

“Man, that’s not fair,” Yuuji throws his card pile to the floor in exasperation. “Wish I knew about that rule beforehand.”

Megumi does the same, “You should’ve made the rules clear before we played the game.”

“Wahh, keep complaining, loser,” Your daughter annoys the boy with a blown raspberry. “Fine, we can try again; if I win, I’ll have Yuuji's bed to myself and Tsumiki.”

“Not happening!” You and the salmon-haired child deny the winner’s request, and the girl only snickers mischievously while Tsumiki deals the cards. 

Saved by the sound of footsteps approaching from the hall, Nanami is now here to dismiss the bunch. “All right, kids, time for bed.” Every one of them mourned at the statement; Yuuji quickly requested five more minutes, only to be shut down by his father. “Nope. I’m done with my shower, so you four must get to bed — that was the deal.”

“Aww man…” The four begrudgingly get up from the living room floor after putting the cards away and setting the pillows back on the couches. Before they leave, they wish you a good night. “Goodnight, Mom!” Nobara comes rushing to you for you to kiss her cheek.

“Goodnight, sweetpea,” you let go of her so she could run back. “And you three — where are my kisses?” Yuuji and Tsumiki happily come for you to place a goodnight kiss on their cheek. All that’s left is the silent child of the bunch who, unfortunately, doesn’t slip past your eyes. “That means you too, Megumi. Or else I’ll chase you down and kiss you up a storm like last time, you hear?”

The black-haired one fights a smile creeping his face, slowly taking steps to where you sat and fidgets as you kiss his cheek. You wish the boy goodnight, and he follows the others down the hall to the bedroom after doing the same. 

“Fushiguro’s in the shower now.” Now that the children are gone, Nanami sits on the left side of the couch before dimming the ceiling lights. He turns on the television, “Seems like they’re having fun.”

“Mmm, they are,” you settle by the middle to be close to him. “I can’t believe they’re all so big now. Didn’t Yuuji just turn eight years old last month?”

“Mhmm, he’s now the same age as Nobara and Megumi,” he says with a smile. “For a little while, that is. He is the youngest, after all.”

“You’re right, poor thing.” You giggle with a stretch. “Nobara’s gonna be nine this August, and Megumi at the end of the year…”

“Hmm. We are old.”

That made you laugh hysterically as the delivery of the comment sounded so defeated yet true. It’s okay, though, since Nanami was laughing himself with a shaken head. “Don’t say it like that! They say you get sexier during your thirties.”

“Are you sure about that? My grandfather had photos from his thirties, and he was balding and getting chunkier before turning thirty-five.” More laughter seeps through your lips. “I don’t know, Y/n; not all of us can keep fit like Fushiguro; he still works out while halfway approaching forty.”

“Now, hold on, Nanamin,” you grin while pointing to Nanami, and you can see him try to fight a smile after using the nickname he supposedly doesn’t like. “You can’t say shit, either; you still look like a model coming straight out of a Men’s Vogue magazine!” That made him laugh more, the sound warming your heart. "You still got it, Kento; a real prince charming."

“Why thank you, Y/n,” he appreciates the compliment.

“Of course.” 

The silence following that felt unsettling and had you fidgeting with the bottom of your halter top. Five uncomfortable minutes of nothing but the lowered volume of the television to fill the space. Come on, Y/n, keep the conversation going. “So, almost ten years, huh? A whole decade.” You watch Nanami nod along through your peripheral. “I remember the first time I met you; you looked like you barely got any sleep for the past month.”

“Because I didn’t. I was hassling with back-to-back meetings, on the cusp of finding another job to take outside of being a salaryman, and then had little newborn Yuuji to come home and put to sleep after feeding. Thank God you could babysit for him with Nobara; I’m forever grateful.”

“Oh God, I remember when you came home so tired while I was rocking both to sleep. I think that was the first and only time I’ve ever seen you fall asleep on the couch; so tired you forgot to greet me!” 

“We don’t talk about that,” he scratches his ear. “That wasn’t so bad when we promised to watch over Megumi and Tsumiki during the weekend while Fushiguro went to take up so many jobs. He fell to his knees once he passed the threshold, and I had to walk him to his bed.” 

You tittered at the recollection — all the memories mentioned made you feel warm and glad, all the years coming back to you with a happy memory. “We’ve done good, though. We managed, and the kids are growing to be good friends.”

“Before you know it, maybe Nobara will come to you about liking the boys—“

“That isn’t happening; I asked her the question like three weeks ago, and she said if she and the boys were the last people on Earth, she’d kill herself.” Nanami gasped and stifled a laugh, but you could see his shoulders bounce. “A third grader — an eight-year-old – telling me she’d off herself rather than be with one of the boys. Talk about radical...At least she loves to hang with them; she loves those boys like they’re her little brothers.” 

The blonde hums to your words. “Them being close is a blessing. I guess that’s thanks to us, having each other’s backs all these years.” 

It’s your turn to nod to him. “True, and I’m just glad they like being with each other.”

“Same here; Yuuji likes being with you guys,” he throws his head back. “…Just like I do.”

You blink. “What do you mean?” Suddenly, you feel as though you shouldn’t have asked that question because the way Nanami turns his head to look at you nearly paralyzes you. Oh my God…

“I like being with you.” He says it tenderly, only for your ears to pick up. “You make me feel at peace when you’re around, and I’m not as close to anyone as I am with you. A decade of you being in my life has made it more serene and…fun. So, I like it when you’re with me.”

You didn’t breathe a single puff of air during his speech. The worst part was that these were Nanami’s words — they were genuine. You could feel it in his bronze gaze, your heart unable to control itself. 

And it doesn’t help that your eyes took in every detail of him; his hair, usually neat and styled, is now down and damp from the shower, strands of hair sticking to his forehead. His home wear comprised a loose sweatshirt and dark grey sweats, but you snuck a glance of his collarbone that peaks from the opening collar of his shirt. You move your gaze to the floor to stop yourself from looking any further, or else more fuel for indecent fantasies will be stored for later!

Fingers fiddle with each other as you chew on your lip. God, Y/n, just fucking say it! “I, uhh…I like being with you, too, Nanami.”

“Do you really have to go?” He scoots in. “You know I don’t mind you staying over.”

“I—ahem—I think, yeah…I wouldn’t want to intrude on you and Toji; I’m sure you two would wanna catch up on stuff. I’ll just come back and pick Nobara up in the morning before—”

You stop uttering more once you feel a sudden hand on your right shoulder. Turning to your left, you didn’t even realize Nanami scooting to be so close to you, his face a hand’s length away from yours. Once again, you have forgotten how to breathe. And when he places his left hand on your right that lies on your lap? You don’t move a centimeter.

“I want you to stay,” his tone low and sincere. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I like you being around me. I…” He brings your hand to his lips, and a soft kiss makes you gasp faintly. “I love it, actually.”

You gulped. There’s no way this is happening right now. There’s just no way! “Kento—“

“I mean it.” He kisses your knuckles again, his eyes locked in with yours. He chuckles, “You were right.”

“About…what?”

“As you grew older, you have changed quite a lot. You’re…Well, no, you’ve always been pretty. But, all these years, you’ve become a lot more beautiful,” he draws his face in closer. “Breathtaking,” you instinctively close your eyes when his nose brushes yours. “Sexier.”

Nanami’s lips land on yours on the final word, and you don’t move a muscle when he does so. They felt soft against yours, perfect for the mellow kiss. It doesn’t last long, only a few seconds. Yet you quivered as he withdrew, placing his forehead against yours as his hand weaved with your fingers. 

“Ken…” Fuck, this is too much. The hand on your shoulder exhibits no interest in getting off. “I can’t, I have to—“ he shushes you with another kiss. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” What the fuck!? Did he just use a pet name on you? “You know I can take care of you, right? Even for one night,” you tremble when he licks your bottom lip. “Stay for tonight, okay?”

“Kento..” He pauses when you hesitantly remove your right hand from his grasp, thinking you’d push him off. But then you bring both hands to cup his sunken cheeks, caressing him with your thumbs. “…More.”

He doesn’t wait a second, accepting your request and bringing his back on yours. Small pecks to the lips gradually become more arousing and tilted heads to achieve a better angle for entry. You moan to his mouth, and so does he. Tongues slowly become adventurous, twirling with each other and exploring the other’s mouth. It feels so good; you lean into Nanami’s hold with every kiss. And he happily accepts you as he gives you more. 

Jesus Christ, something straight out of a dream. And if it was, you only hope to indulge in it for a little longer. More, more—

“What do we have here?”

However, you can’t indulge if another person comes into the frey unsuspectedly. 

Two bodies retreat from each other, sitting awkwardly on the couch appropriately as Toji walks into the living room. Your lips shook with anxiousness, stealing a glimpse of Toji’s smirk as he walked to your right. You sneak a glance at Nanami, seeing the shade of pink rise on his skin lightly, and you cover your face to shield yourself. Fucking fuck, this is embarrassing!

“Don’t act all shy on me now, you two.” Toji’s weight dents the right side of the couch, extending his arm to be behind you. “Don’t be scared, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Did you check the kids?” Nanami fakes a cough.

“Out like a light,” he answers, creeping his hand from behind onto your shoulder. You shudder at his calloused touch and gruff laugh. “What’s goin’ on, Y/n?” You meekly turned to look at him. Same with Nanami, Toji’s dark hair was damp from the shower, substituting his day outfit with a blank tank top and grey sweatpants. It took everything in your power not to peek at his pecs or exposed biceps. 

You avert your eyes from his. “Nothing…” You saw his chest jerk from a scoff. 

“Wow, you two are really gonna act like some kids, huh.” His snark remark has you both flattening your lips in shame. “Act all quiet when somethin’ happened.”

He prompted you to question. “How much…did you see?”

“I saw the kiss — you looked like you were enjoyin’ it.” He purposely said that to make your cheeks hot, the brazen bastard. “But I heard Kent here say he means it when he likes havin’ ya ‘round.”

Nanami speaks up while scratching his brow. “Y/n was, uhh, just about to leave.”

Toji lifts a brow. “Leave? When the night is still young?” He subtly shakes you. “Why so soon, hmm? It’s the weekend; I just got outta the shower an’ hoped you’d be here a lil' while.” He spoke to you slowly. It was a dangerous approach with that husky voice. He squeezes your shoulder when you’re not answering. 

“I just….You and Nanami probably have some ‘guy stuff’ you wanna catch up on, and I don’t want to come in between that, you know?” It’s here you muster the courage to look at the raven-haired man. Big mistake; now he has your attention where he wants it.

“So considerate, huh,” his free hand comes to your cheek, and you’re frozen as he plays with the flesh of it. “I think you should stay, Y/n. What kind of friends would we be if we let you drive out late." 

It’s hard to remind your body to breathe when Toji is surveying you intimately. What the fuck—why is this happening all of a sudden!?? “You–Toji, it’s okay, I’ll—“

“Besides,” he teases you by rubbing your earlobe with his thumb and forefinger. “I like you bein’ here, too.” You’re too distracted from him bringing his face to your neck to kiss, evoking an unstable gasp. “Lookin’ all pretty fr’ me…”

“Toji…—Ahh!” You didn’t notice him slide his hands down to the chest area of your halter top, his large palms groping your breasts affectionately. His kneads are rough yet pleasing, having you whimpering for him. “Don’t touch so…Hahhh…”

“Bad girl,” he chuckles to your ear after placing a kiss on your cheek. “Over here lettin' Kent touch you and think you can leave without me havin’ you for a bit, especially when you were eyein' us up earlier today...” He kisses your lips to take in your silent squeaks from fondling your chest, and you mewl for him. “Daddy wants you, too, baby…Heh, so does Kent.”

You peer to your left to see the mentioned man, and you’re taken aback to see him close to your side again. Holy shit. You literally questioned about this earlier, wondering if you’d ever be on the receiving side of these two. You did NOT expect this answer to come out of the blue within a few hours! And now that it’s here, how could you leave now?! This is what you wanted. And – to your surprise – so did they. 

You swallow spit and lift your left leg to the couch. And Nanami notices the initiative, coming between your legs to kiss your lips again. Your back pressed against Toji’s chest, you’re caged between the two men who seek to pleasure you in this proximity. You moan to Nanami sucking on your tongue, coinciding with the satisfying kneads of your breasts. 

Suddenly, Nanami breaks the kiss with a groan, and Toji chortles close to your ear. Curious, your eyes venture down to find that Toji’s hand grasps the tent of the blonde’s sweatpants. “Enjoyin’ y’rself, huh, Kent?” Toji strokes his hand on the boner, evident through the clothes.

“Toji, st—Hnnn…!” You watch this, eyeing Nanami’s composure slip away as his cock is being touched. The older man willingly massages his friend’s dick, and you observe how he effortlessly makes the sand-headed man hornier with his hand alone. It makes you feel hot, sensing a throbbing sensation in between your thighs. So, you silently bring a hand to sneak inside the hem of your wide-leg jeans. 

But you don’t go unnoticed because Toji kisses your cheek. “Like what ya see, sweetie?” He rests his chin on your shoulder. “Want me to take care of you? Here,” he then takes your hand to swap with his, your fingers feeling the rough skin of Nanami’s cock as you hold it. “Make him feel good, ‘kay?” 

You couldn’t believe it — Nanami’s hot, living cock was in your grasp. And as you have begun to stroke him, the noises he made turned you on even more. His veins are felt in your very palm, and precum exuding from his urethra lubricates the pretty fingers around his length. You can’t help but imagine how it would feel to have him ease the aching pulses between your legs, how good it would feel to have his girth massage your insides.

But your crude thoughts are interrupted by Toji’s left hand skillfully unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans, slithering inside your panties, and meeting your wet cunt with his fingers. You jolt, but he’s right there to coo, “Relax, mama,” his free hand squeezes your chin to turn and face him. “Daddy’s gotcha…So fuckin’ beautiful,” Toji slams his lips into you for a steamier kiss, and you lose yourself.

Your hand on Nanami goes faster, eliciting extra precum to escape and stain the material of his sweats. Nanami leans forward to lick and suck the skin of your neck, forcing you to break the kiss with Toji to wail inaudibly while his fingers brush up on your soaked folds with unforgiving speed. Not to mention his bulge grinding against your back…

“Ahhnn, wait, guyss, we can’t—Mmmm…!” Toji kisses you again, grinning at your expression as he sucks and nibbles on your tongue. “We can’t do this…Not here…”

“Why?“ Nanami blows on your ear. “What’s wrong, love?”

CREEAAKK!!

That’s what’s wrong!

Like a flipped switch, all three adults unscrew themselves away from each other and sit back into their original positions. Nanami immediately pulls his pants back up, using a couch pillow to hide the situation that shouldn’t be present as he’s sitting in the living room. Toji follows suit, leaning on the couch arm. 

Sounds of tiny footsteps draw near, and they belong to none other than your daughter, who sleepily rubs her eyes coming into the space. You are the first thing she sees, “Momma? You’re still here?” 

“Mhmm,” you hoped you didn’t sound too off. “I’m just watching a movie with Uncle Toji and Kento. What are you doing up?”

“I thought I heard your voice,” Nobara walks to you and puts her head on your shoulder, and you voluntarily pick her up to have her sit on your lap. You smile; even though she’s growing day by day, she’s still your baby at heart. “Didn’t you say you’d leave after I go to bed?”

“Yeah, I was supposed to,” the two men sitting on either side of the couch say nothing. “And I can’t go now, seeing you’re still up.”

Nobara nuzzles into your neck. “Does that mean you’ll spend the night, too?” 

“Mmm, I wish I could, sweetpea,” you kiss her forehead. “But I didn’t bring any change of clothes or pajamas. I don’t even have my toothbrush – I’d be walking around with stinky breath.” You hear the girl giggle at your words.

What you just said gave the two fathers an idea, the men giving each other a look before saying anything. “I have some unused travel-size toothbrushes and toothpaste I’ve kept from business trips.” Nanami inquires; you put your foot in your mouth on that one.

Toji adds, “You can use the sweatshirt I wore today as PJs. I don’t mind.”  

Of course, you don’t.  Shaking your head, you knew what the two were insinuating. The adult language is too nuanced for your daughter to pick up on. It’s not like you’ve never slept over Nanami’s place before; you’ve done it dozens of times — even Toji’s! However, this time was different; you three have crossed a line you didn’t think was possible. What happened minutes ago was a mere taste of what could happen if you three decided to change this relationship into something more intimate. And now, after revealing the curiosity, the men were all in to see it through.

…And yet, you can’t say you don’t feel the same either. Are you kidding? You have goosebumps just thinking back on how close you three were, how their hands and lips felt on your skin, and their attention placed on nothing – on no one else – but you. It made your heart beat uncontrollably, knowing that your decade-long crush on them was being favored in more ways than one — like a dream come true!

“Mom?” Snapping back to reality, you peer to Nobara, who awaits your answer. With a smile, you boop her nose with a finger.

“Only if you go back to sleep, sweetpea.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The hour hand had finally met the twelfth number, the midnight hour designating the quiet neighborhood into a calm slumber. Light posts automatically turn on to display the sidewalk, yet the darkness of the night serves as a blanket to cover the silent homes. 

Nanami’s home was simple — a one-floor house perfect for the blonde man and his son. Aside from the living room and kitchen, it had a hall that harbored the bedrooms, Yuuji’s guest bathroom, and closet. The children were all resting in Yuuji’s room, the first door to the left you’d meet when entering the hallway. Other than the master bedroom, there was no other room besides the living room couch for you to sleep in. 

Being by yourself is something Nanami wouldn’t want, and Toji would’ve primarily taken the couch since you had no plans of staying. But since that’s been changed, the two men took this opportunity to enjoy their sleepover with your company, using the master bedroom at the end of the hall to further themselves from the ears of the snoring kids. Tonight, you’d finally have your answer by being spoiled by your crushes all night.

“Dahhh, Toji, yer tongue…fingers…Ohhh!”

“Fuck, Y/n, you look so gorgeous…Here, kiss me, angel.”

“Mmmm, fuckin’ shit, y’ taste so good…Waited so long fr' this..."

You were practically stuck with them the moment they locked the door. After borrowing Nanami’s shower, your nude body was met with hungry hands and hot kisses, drowning your senses with their overwhelming presence. Three naked bodies lie on the bed, you with your back to the sheets and legs spread. To your right was Nanami, making out with you lovingly while a hand cups and massages a breast. Toji had his face nestled between your thighs, his tongue licking around your labia and fucking your vagina, inspiring you to cry for the blonde next to you. The older man also pleases you by fingering your asshole with lube, conditioning it for future use.

You melt into Nanami’s kiss, and soft tweaks on your nipple make you mewl into his lips more. But you withdraw to scream, “Ahhaaa! Kentoo, touch me more…”

“Hmm? What, baby?” He presses his lips to your cheek, kissing your chin to the outlet between your neck and shoulders. “You like it when I play with your chest?” A low snicker humors him from watching you nod, and he brings his mouth to your nipple to suck on. 

You grip the sheets, “Ohhh, hooo…! Tojiii, y’re gonna make me c—Uuuhh!”

He separates his mouth from your soapy folds, and your liquids stick to his chin. What an obscene sight with the grin he has on his face. “Yeah? Ya wanna cum on my mouth, mama?” Unlike Nanami, Toji doesn’t take a nod; he’s a bit of an asshat, so he licks your clitoris to tease. “Use them words, baby; wanna hear you say it fr’ me.”

“Y–Yesss, yes, I do,” a hushed howl after Toji sucks on your pearl and the other rubbing on your nipple to the roof of his mouth. “Pleaseee, I wanna cum…!”

“Heh, well, don’t go cummin’ on me just yet,” he kisses your slit before straightening up and pats your inner thigh. “All ready fr’ ya, Kent.”

Nanami then releases your nipple with a ‘pop’ and maneuvers to lay on his side. “Come here,” he asks,  resting your head on his arm and lifting your leg. You hum at the contact of his glans meeting your cunt, “So wet for me, huh?” He pushes his cock to the entrance, and you gasp at the tip inserted into your vagina. “Relax, angel,” he coos to you with a kiss on your nose, gauging your reaction as he slowly snugs your vagina with every inch of his cock. 

Your mouth goes agape at the stretch of you taking him in; the feeling of his cock feels too good and surreal. And the brush of his dick on your sweet spots has you squeak, same with him poking on your cervix. He throws in a few thrusts to start, but you didn’t expect that. No, fuck! He rubs on your walls at a precise angle, prompting your orgasm to come a bit too quickly to comprehend. So, you have to bite your lip to keep your scream hushed, letting the flutter of your cunt speak for you. 

And Nanami notices it, hissing at the contraction. “—Hnnm! Shit…Did you cum, sweetheart?”

“Oh, did they?” And here comes Toji, straddling both the bodies below him. He leans into your face, licking your ear. “Felt that good, huh, baby? We haven’t even started.” He kisses your forehead before uncurling back up and aligning his dick to your lubed anus. Then, he pushes the tip to be swallowed by your puckered hole, and you mumble small prayers as his fat length is pushed inside. “Shit, this tight ass…”

The older man begins to move into you, his shaft churning the inside of your ass. Nanami does the same, his cock scraping your insides synched with Toji’s rhythm. The movement has you immediately making noise beyond your control, wails bouncing around the space between you and the men. 

It isn’t long before the two find a groove; Toji pistons his cock with every pull of Nanami’s, and sounds of skin slapping lasciviously against each other are picked up by your ears. How could you not tighten more around the limbs inside you, especially when they scrape on against your tender wails so accurately? Especially after coming, your nerves have not yet recovered from the wave earlier. 

“Ohh! Hoooh fuuuck,” your back arches a bit, helping the sand-haired man to find a better angle to scratch the upper wall of your vagina. Your vision is screwed shut, making it easier to indulge in the sensation of their cocks ravaging your insides. 

Toji sees you from up top, his eyes traveling down to your ass and whistling at the sight of you taking his and the other’s dick. “Damn, ya feel so good, Y/n. Ass so tight, act like ya don’t wanna let go.”

God, why’d he have to say it like that? Your face was hot enough; did he want to make you melt on this bed? And Nanami doesn’t make it any better. “Heheh, they twitched,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, felt it, too…What’s goin’ on, sweetie?” Toji pulls his cock until his cockhead is on the verge of coming out, and he slams it back down to have you moan aloud. “Ya like bein’ fucked like this? Takin’ Daddy’s cock like a good girl…?”

“They’re gripping me again.”

“Ken, stoop!!” The fair-headed man laughs at your protest, your resilience still present even if it’s wiped away in seconds when Toji quickens his pace. “Nnhhh…! N-Not too fast, I’m sensit’veee—Ahhh!” 

“You say that, but your body says otherwise, love,” Kento brings a hand to your hip to massage. “—Nnnn! Jesus…wanna cum so bad…”

Oh, fuck, imagine: being filled to the brim by Nanami’s come? Being stuffed by both of them? It turned you on so bad. “—OhhhGod, please, cum inside me!”

Gold eyebrows furrow. “I can’t, baby; don’t got a condom on—“

“It’s okay, I want it…!” The thought of getting pregnant again should be the very last thing that should pop into your mind right now. And yet, being knocked up by these two has you craving Nanami’s release even more. “Pleaseeplease, I want you to fill me up…! Don’t hold back for me, Ken.” You can tell he’s still on the fence about it. But with a kiss on his nose and a soft hand on his cheek, you convince him otherwise.

“Wanna be the mother of my child so bad, huh?” He says with a chortle, “So beautiful…” Before he snaps his hips into you, Nanami brings you in for one more kiss and wraps his hand on your shoulder to keep you close. He ruts into you with purpose, making sure he’s balls-deep with every push and reaching the deepest he can. You howl at the brush of your cervix again, allowing him to use you to chase his climax.

“Oh? You got him going, now,” Toji comments from above with a smirk, still maintaining the pace with Nanami despite the younger male going erratic. Your screams go higher and higher, so you bring in a hand to cover up the noise. This was not the time to test how thick the bedroom walls were, despite the kids sleeping a closet and office away. 

Nanami groans into your lips; his length relentlessly rubs your silky texture. And when his orgasm does reach him, he grinds his pelvis, stirring his length so deep that you can’t help but writhe with him. You can feel his penis pulsate with every pump of his load inside you, satisfying your excitement as your hand massages his skull. He keeps you like this until his body has calmed down, sluggishly removing his pillowy lips from yours with a sigh. 

Chocolate brown orbs are fixated on yours, the hand on your hip coming up to wipe spit from your face. “God, you drive me crazy. Making me cum inside, one child’s not enough?”

You titter, “Well, wouldn’t hurt to have another, you think?…Mmmm,” you almost forget about Toji. The raven-haired man removes himself from your ass, his shaft still standing.

“Don’t forget ‘bout me, now,” he reminds you two of his presence, getting his frame off you both so you can move around. 

You stand with your knees between Nanami’s legs while he sits upright. “Come here,” he places his hands on your hips and leads you back onto his cock. This time, he’s the one entering your asshole, and you both moan at the union of your sexes. Once your ass meets the base of his pelvis, his arms wrap around your waist and carefully bring you down with him. Your back to his chest, his lips to your ear. “So tight and warm…Hmmm.”

This position is new to you – in fact, this was all new! You can’t remember the last time you had your body this close and intimate with another figure. It’s been so long – damn near bizarre - especially when your heat is transferring with the gold-haired man behind you. The aroused hums to your ears have you throb involuntarily; you could melt into his arms right about now.

That thought goes out the window when Toji’s weight has you looking in front of you, and your brain nearly shuts down at the sight of the older man coming in between your legs to lift them, his emerald eyes locked on yours. Jesus, fuck! You had to turn away – it was all too much! 

“Ah ahh, don’t go turnin’ ‘way from me,” he gives your legs for Nanami to hold from the back of your knees, and then he cups your cheeks and moves your face back to him. “Waited almost ten years to have you like this, so I wanna see all of you, mama.” Just when your face couldn’t get any more unreasonably hot, this handsome bastard just had to say that while fondling your chest! And it doesn’t help the other charming face is placing kisses on your neck. 

Toji uses this position to spread your folds; he can’t suppress the ardent smirk lifting his scar. “Kent did his thing on you, and ya still want more, huh?” You press your lips together when he slaps his glans on your leaky chasm. “Watch...” Your eyes follow down to the tip of his dick, vulgarly using the come seeping out of you as lube. You gasp sharply at the insertion, “Breathe fr’ me, baby,” he coaxes you through every inch of him, burrowing inside your inner channel that you almost forget to blink from the display. The girth of him has you wail beneath him, and you cry at the poke of your cervix again! Christ, you don’t know how long you can do this. 

“—Hnngh…! Fuck, good girl,” the dark-haired one praises, grinding his pelvis down to churn more friction inside you. “So good fr’ Daddy...”

Slow ruts to your chasm begin the second round, three bodies rocking within a mutual cadence. You throw your head back with shut eyelids concentrating on the two dicks that push to and fro from your holes and scrape your walls. And a choked scream leaves your frame at the jab of your cervix again. 

“Ohhhshiit,” eyebrows furrow with a chewed lip, and the two men begin to quicken the pace. “HooohGod! F’eel so good…Ahahhn!”

Toji puts his hands on the headboard as leverage, using his hips and the flex of his abdomen to take control. Fuck, seeing his nude physique so up close was too marvelous; it couldn’t be true — it shouldn’t be! 

And Nanami is no better while whispering to your ear. “Feeling good, Y/n?” He teases your lobe with a lick, “Gripping on us like crazy as if you’ve been waiting for this, hmm?” You try to protest, but all that comes out are sobs when he jerks his hips unexpectedly. He chuckles, “So cute…Hmm? Heh, you are feeling good, huh, love.”

Can you believe it? Being fucked by these two attractive men, and you’re fingering your clit in the midst of it all? Embarrassment rings your ears as your fingers swipe and grind around the neglected pearl. Toji and Nanami share a look for a split second, and then Nanami switches his hands with the other. Instead, an arm snakes around your waist to keep you on him, and the other silently moves yours aside to play with your clit. 

That only has you crying even harder. Pinches to your clit and kisses to your leg accompany the increased speed of their thrusts. Tears well up at every jolt of your body from the frequent jabs to your vaginal walls, scraping your G-spot so precisely. And the length in your butt keeps feeling so fucking good! Grazing your velvet texture that you can’t think straight.

“—Gaahhh! Mmmph!” Your hand finds Nanami’s wrist to hold on to as his middle and ring fingers swipe on your clitoris. You scream his name when he pitches it softly, “Kent—Ohhh! Shhtop, ish too much!!”

“Yeah, too much?” He toys with it gently. “But I don’t hear you telling me to stop…”

The two of them go at a sporadic pace, skin slapping onto yours harshly in sync. They nearly take your breath away, thanking God they have a hold on you before the momentum steers you away. “Hahah, ohhh, ohmyGod, guys,” Toji bends down to add more of his weight, making you howl from the angle of his fat cock. “I cannn’t; again, I’m about to cuuhmm agaiinn!!!”

“Really? You wanna cum, baby? Mmph! Fuck, this pussy…” He groans. “Gonna be a good girl and let Daddy finish here, yeah?” You nod, and Nanami pinches your clit again on Toji’s behalf. “Words, sweetie, words.”

“Yesss, Daddyyy!” 

“Gonna lay there and look cute while I knock ya up, right?” Again, the thought of having another baby should not have you excited. But again, there’s no way your head could be right during all of this. “Hmm? Want Daddy to give ya a baby?”

“Mmmm! Please, Daddyyy, fill me up…!” You were spouting out nonsense, but who cares? “Make me a mama again…Ohhh!”

And he does just that, pounding his shaft at you so harshly that it rocks your entire body, especially with how he brings your legs up to your chest to have your slit fully exposed for him. “Holy shit,” he bites his lip as he eyes your nude frame before him. “Look so fuckin’ sexy like this, Y/n.”

You couldn’t thank him for the compliment, your lips busy with Nanami’s as he takes you in for a steamy kiss. Both men drill their members into you in erratic unison, leaving you a squealing mess for the fair-headed one to deal with. His hands continue to tweak and grind on your clitoris, and your orgasm hits you before you can prepare yourself with a tear trickling down. 

And the flutter of your walls around their cocks eggs them onto waves of their own, groaning along with your cries as they piston you with the final ruts of their hips. Their pulsating lengths exert their loads inside your holes simultaneously, filling you up with their essence as their sweaty bodies heave and shudder. Nanami releases your clit from his grasp, the same with your lips. 

He hums pleasantly, his brown orbs hooded yet comforting. “Told you I love having you around me.”

“Bet y’re glad you stayed over,” Toji’s hand finds its way to your chin after putting your legs down. He scoffs when you bashfully nod, bringing you in for a kiss. “Did so well, mama…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Mornings are typically a thing you share with your daughter in the comfort of your home. From the moment she came into your world to having her own room and bed, Nobara would always be the first thing you’d see when waking up. Coming into your room to greet you, pulling you out for something, or get dressed and ready for the day with you – it was a routine the two of you shared, a sacred thing to enjoy between parent and daughter. So, to wake up in a room different from yours or see a different face has been a rarity ever since she became your top priority.

This morning, though, was one of those rarities.

“Good morning, Y/n.”

Your eyes flickered open from birds chirping and the sun peaking from the bedroom curtains. Drowsy eyes scan around to see that you are not in your room, already being alerted that something had happened last night of the change of scenery. And when you look to see who lies beside you, it all hits you like a slap.

It was like a scene from a romance movie, waking up to Nanami’s stunning face that was highlighted by the sunlight. Fair blonde hair that matched the softness of his russet eyes and a kind smile to match. And your breath hitches when he brings a hand to caress your cheek. 

“Mornin’, Y/n.”

And, of course, he wasn’t the only one who’d be greeting you. You sheepishly turn around to see the other man looking at you, viridian orbs ready to meet your pretty face. The smile on his face pulls the scar on his lips, the man effortlessly shooting an arrow into your heart. 

Everything that occurred the night before flashes, and the heat returns to dance on your cheeks and ears. Waking up in a different bed with two handsome men is one thing. To wake up to your crushes greeting you good morning, all three of you nude and comfortable after a night of mutual passion? Oh, you had to be dreaming still.

And yet, you couldn’t look at either of them in the eyes, averting your gaze modestly. “…Good morning,” you say quietly, almost squeaking your heart out when they both move to be closer. They kiss you, embrace you, and give you attention as if your decade-long crush has finally been lifted for them to spoil you. It’s kind of suffocating in a way. But, God, it felt so good.

Eventually, you got up and threw on some clothes to make food for everyone, Nanami joining you after putting his sleepwear back on. Toji had to leave for a moment to grab stuff from the store, his daughter waking up to the sound of him slamming the front door close. Then came Megumi, then Yuuji, who greeted Nanami with a hug, and now Nobara. The children sit around the table and mingle while you and the blonde fix some blueberry waffles, eggs, and bacon.

“Isn’t that my dad’s shirt?” Megumi was the first to notice it, pointing to the sweatshirt that went with your loose jeans — the same sweatshirt that Toji wore yesterday.

You flatten your lips before coming up with an answer. “Yes…I had nothing to wear for sleeping over, so he gave me his shirt. He didn’t mind; he brought an extra one.”

“You stayed over, Auntie?” Yuuji inquired after taking a sip of his apple juice. “Where did you sleep?”

“On the couch.”

Brown brows scrunch together before Nobara asks, “But wasn’t Uncle Toji the one who’d sleep on the couch?” 

You open your mouth, but words fail to exit out. Sharing a glance with Nanami, who coughs while putting waffles on plates, he covers for you. “He slept in my bed with me.”

“You slept with my father?” Tsumiki interrogates, trying to stifle a laugh. “He snores a lot, so I’m sorry if you couldn’t sleep, Uncle Nanami.”

As if on cue, the front door opens and closes with the arrival of her father, walking to kiss Tsumiki’s cheek and ruffle Megumi’s hair before entering the kitchen. He pulls something out of the plastic grocery bag and hands it to you. Putting the mixing bowl down, you take what seems to be a box, and your eyes widen to Toji’s amusement. “I’d take those before leaving if I were you.” 

“Jesus Christ,” you put the box of birth control to the side with a flustered face. “Thank you…” And before you can process it, Toji sneaks a kiss on your cheek with you distracted. The older man cackles to himself when you slap his arm and push him off. Thankfully, none of the kids notice.

“Uncle Toji,” Nobara grabs the man’s attention. “Is it true you slept with Uncle Nanami?” 

The question takes him aback, but Toji’s quick on his feet to reply. “Yeah, I did. Your dad looks like a dead man when asleep, Yuyu.”

The pink-haired child nods along to the nickname. “Mhmm! Even when he comes home from work, he looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks, like some kind of vampire.” You snuck a glimpse at the sand-haired man, who rolled his eyes before bringing plates to put on the table. 

“Anyways,” he diverts the conversation to a different subject, placing a plate full of food in front of the boys. “Be ready for the zoo after breakfast, Yuuji. Didn’t you say you wanted to see the new tiger cubs?”

The Fushiguro siblings brighten with interest at the mention of the zoo, turning to their father, who instantly shuts them down with crossed arms. “Don’t even think about it. I’m already takin’ you two to the aquarium tomorrow; you want me to pay for more tickets for some animals?”

The joy in their eyes diminishes in seconds. “Cheapskate,” Megumi mumbled under his breath, earning a blueberry to be thrown at him by Toji. But the siblings smile when Nanami says that they can come along. 

“Momma,” you dreaded hearing your daughter’s voice during this conversation, hesitantly peering at the dark-haired girl after being given her breakfast. “Can I go, too?” 

Oh, goddamn it. “I’m sorry, baby, but I can’t keep going back and forth from the house and wherever. Besides, you have karate today.”

“I can skip!” Your mouth drops at her enthusiasm. “Besides, we can just sleep over again!”

This girl! “Nobara, you can’t just go making those decisions like this is your home. Did you ask Yuuji’s father if it was okay to stay another night?” You probably shouldn’t have said that, as the girl immediately asks the blonde father the exact question. And to your shock, he says they’re free to stay another night. You’re not helping! “You don’t even have an extra pair of clothes!”

And to make it worse, the onyx-haired man beside you says this, which makes you facepalm with a groan. “I can drive you two home and back. Saves ya some gas.”  You’re not helping either, and you’re just losing gas for my sake!

Mornings were supposed to be an easy thing to deal with. And yet here you are, dealing with a predicament. Shit like this is precisely why you don’t stay for too long during Nobara’s playdates and sleepovers; now you’re backed into a position where saying no seems futile. Nothing wrong with the children wanting to hang out more, but fuck does it throw the routine off. However, it wasn’t all bad. Because the whole point of this was for the little girl to have fun with her friends, who are you to be a Debby downer on her parade?

Plus…you’d get to hang out with Toji and Nanami for another day; that alone has your stomach running laps right now. Not only did you have your feelings reciprocated by the two men within a single night and then some, but you’re now invited to stay another day and enjoy the weekend in their company. You can sense their gazes on you, awaiting your answer – your approval to spoil and please you for one more night. And what makes your heart skip into flips is that there would probably be more days and nights to deepen this relationship between you three…

So, with a heavy sigh, you slide your hand down your face.

“…Can we at least go get some spare clothes first?”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by rororogi morgera + dividers by @/cafekitsune.

[absoluteindulgence]

Nanami, ur supposed to look at the camera not herrrr

Skintones

[absoluteindulgence]

Nanami reading Thirst Tweets

[absoluteindulgence]

FINALLY SOME NANAMI X READER X TOJI FOOD!!!

I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR MONTHS TO COME ACROSS THIS PAIRING. I JUST WANNA BE LOVED BY THEM🥺😭🥺😭🥺😭🥺😭

Our Sweet Wife

Nanami × Reader × Toji

Bonus chapter

You had been promised to the prince of the kingdom before you were even born. You knew this day would come, it was inevitable. You'd been trained how to be a consort from the minute you could walk in a straight line. Classes upon classes on etiquette, history, diction, even on how to walk and dress worthy of a royal consort.

What you didn't know was that the kingdom was ruled by not one, but two princes.

Born to different mothers, they were as different as night and day. Toji was as dark as a moonless night: pitch black hair, jade green eyes, scars to commemorate every ruthless battle he'd been in. Kento was fair as a summer's day: light blonde hair, erudite, there was no one in the kingdom who could win against him in a battle of wits.

Everyone expected the half-siblings to fight it out for their birthright, possibly ending in one's death. But surprising everyone, even their own late father, the brothers had joined forces. Brawn and brains, together their kingdom prospered. They shared every victory, every decision.

And now they're going to share you.

Their promised bride.

*******

"Relax Kento, this is not the first time we've been with a woman," Toji drawled lazily from the couch he was lounging on.

"Of course not. But you have to admit this is different. In all aspects. She's a princess. She was literally raised to be a consort to a king. A king, singular," Kento's voice rose a pitch as he got his thoughts out, "We do not know how she will accept us."

"She knows what she's getting into, Kento," Toji responds, his voice low and comforting, "Just be ourselves, that's all we need to do."

"But..." Kento's protest was cut short by the guard announcing your arrival.

"The Lady Consort, your graces," announces the guard, as you're ushered into the grand bed chamber. You keep your head low, the cloak covering your head and most of your body. Not that you were wearing much, a simple lace nightgown was what your handmaidens dressed you in.

An outfit designed and selected to confirm a consummation.

The guard turns on his heel and leaves, and you're left standing there, goosebumps rising on your arms as you feel eyes on you. You slowly raise your head to see them.

Your husbands. Plural.

*******

Toji moved first. For a man his size, he was extremely light on his feet. He flips the hood off your head and snaps the cloak off your body in seconds.

You stare at his face, taking in his green eyes, the sinful smirk, that slight scar across his lips.

"She's certainly a feast for the eyes, Kento," he says to the blonde man behind him.

Kento moves behind you, a reassuring hand at your lower back, trying to stare down the wolfish grin that grows on Toji's face as he drinks you in, "I apologize for my brother. Restraint is not one of his virtues."

"He's right, but the things I can give you while restraining you..." Toji responds suggestively.

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry. But you feel a warmth bloom in you belly in the position you find yourself in.

Between two strong men, their scent and voices making your senses heady.

You know what's going to happen tonight. You'd fought a silent dread for years now, wondering how you'd muster courage on your consummation night.

Maybe you wouldn't have to. Your husbands look like they know just what to do with you.

"Maybe a bath first?" Kento suggests, breaking you out of your thoughts.

"Wonderful idea, as always, brother," Toji says as he walks towards the bath chamber, stripping off his clothes along the way.

Your face heats up as you catch a glimpse of his toned back muscles.

"He's a bit of an exhibitionist. Don't let it get to you," Kento says, trying to ease your mind. "We've been so looking forward to seeing you since the ceremony last month. Our lovely bride. I hope you'll be happy in our kingdom."

Kento's smooth voice quiets your nerves and you let him lead you towards the bath chamber.

Where Toji already sits in the giant tub of warm, sudsy water.

"How about Kento gets in, and then you take your time to disrobe and join us?" Toji suggests, his eyes glinting with mischief, "Would that be easier for you, princess?"

You did not miss the teasing tone stroking the way he called you princess. You'd been called that your entire life, but never in that tone.

You dart behind the changing screen and peek through the gaps to see Kento undress and enter the bath.

"Any time now, princess, we're waiting!"

You slowly emerge from behind the screen, the skin of your face and chest blooming colour as heat and shyness shoot through you. You remember your lessons and walk perfectly poised right into the bath, where the men promptly move towards either side of you.

The warm water, the desire rising through your body, the heat radiating off your husbands' skin....you were close to passing out.

"Take a sip. It'll cool you down," Kento passes you a goblet of chilled wine which you gratefully drink.

The alcohol flows through you, calming your nerves, you lean back and let the warm water soothe your muscles.

*******

Toji's thumb touches your chin and he gently moves your face closer to his. "May I kiss the bride now, princess?" You nod and his lips press against yours, his warm tongue licking the seams of your mouth seeking entry. You open and moan deliciously as Toji kisses you like he's tasting you.

You feel his hand move towards your stomach, your hands shoot out and grab Kento's for support.

"Skittish little thing," Toji whispers against your lips. Kento takes your hand and kisses his way to your neck. You turn to him, a moan caught in your throat, let out when he kisses you just as deeply if not more.

Kento tastes like the sweet wine he gave you. You try to mimic the movement of his tongue and he hums in approval. He moves down, kissing your jaw and your neck, grazing his teeth along the lobe of your ear. You let out a small whine as you feel Toji's breath on the other side of your neck before his teeth gently grazed the skin.

"Princess, are you getting all hot and bothered?" Toji whispers in your ear.

You feel your cheeks redden as you realise that you need more. More hands touching you. More of their lips against your skin.

Kento takes your lips in his again while Toji gently tells you, "I'm going to touch you now. I'll be gentle, sweetheart."

You moan as you feel his rough, calloused fingers slowly flit across your thighs, higher and higher, till they reach your pussy.

"You're soaking down here, dearest," he says as his finger slowly move into your pussy and stroke your clit. You jolt, breaking Kento's kiss.

"Touch her with me, Kento. Let's give our wife her first taste of pleasure," Toji says, not breaking eye contact with you.

"Anything for our sweet wife," says Kento as his fingers easily finds Toji's, but moves lower towards your opening. He gently eases in a finger, making you buck up.

The sensations were too much, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you, making your legs weak. Toji kept rubbing slow circles on your clit, increasing the pressure every now and again, whispering the dirtiest things you'd ever heard and moving his tongue along the shell of your ear. Kento's finger touched places inside you that you'd never dreamed could bring you such pleasure.

You lean back, their voices and touch going to your head, making you dizzy with want. "I--- I'm going to cum..please I..I can't," you gasp out.

"What lovely first words to hear from our wife, eh?" Toji snickers teasingly as he rubs your clit faster and faster. He wraps a strong arm around your waist to ground you as Kento slips in another finger and moves it in a come hither motion, touching that perfect bundle of nerves inside you.

You come apart as your orgasm hits. Your body goes stiff as your moan wantonly, burying your head against Toji's shoulder.

He holds you as you come down from your high. You lift your head to see Kento licking his fingers clean of your slick. Your eyes widen in embarrassment as Toji tells you, "The night's only beginning, sweet thing."

[absoluteindulgence]

Being a writer your brain is either

A) STUFFED TO BURSTING with ideas you have no clue what to do with or how to make them make sense

or

B) It's a black hole that devours every inkling of creativity in your cells and you are just hoping it'll consume you too

THERE IS NO IN BETWEEN

[absoluteindulgence]

Damn, you ate this dooowwwwwn! I'm hella invested!

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 | **Sequel**

**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! You can find the sequel here!

[absoluteindulgence]

We have been effectively homeless and hotel hopping since the first, after I stood up to abuse I had been enduring. Any help is most appreciated. We are just trying to find a cheap rv off craiglist even as a roof we own at least.

[absoluteindulgence]

The TikTok-fication of Tumblr and why it needs to stop before your fave writers are gone for good:

1. “Part 2??”

Unlike TikTok, writing 5,000 words for a fic does not happen in 6 seconds or more. Weekly updates are from a writer who spoils you and is passionate about their story. Don’t kill the passion by demanding for more and not appreciate what’s already given.

2. The DC Conundrum

Many writers on this platform hail back from the ff.net days where dark content is a norm, not like TikTok where even death has to be censored or you could get flagged.

Despite that, writers are doing you a service by sharing fic warnings despite how it may take away from a plot twist or a big reveal. However, there’s a fine line between sharing warnings and downright spoiling our own work. Heed the warnings, don’t be a dick. If you don’t like it, don’t read it. Learn how to filter your own content, too, while you're at it.

3. The Wild Algorithm

Unlike TikTok, Tumblr’s FYP is not in your face and you have a choice to not view it. Content often gets buried a few days after it’s posted without reblogs or comments to keep it alive.

4. Passive Content Consumption

Ties back with point #1. If you’re only sitting back and reading works without supporting the writers, they can’t spend 6 seconds to conjure up a fic. Writing takes time, editing, proofreading. Tumblr is a book club, not a delivery service.

5. De(constructive) Criticism

If an opinion isn’t asked for, don’t give it. Many writers choose this craft for their own enjoyment and to share a thought or story about a beloved character to those who love them, too. If an opinion is asked? Be kind when you share it across to them. No one likes their hard work to be shat on by someone who doesn’t understand the time and effort it took to create this piece.

6. Are You My Content Machine?

Again, back to point #1. Writers have busy lives. There are days when we want to scream into the void about our favourite characters. We want to share our thoughts about them or sometimes, we just want to talk about what happened during lunch break. Demanding and expecting that a writer post content without giving a shit about the soul behind the screen? Dehumanizing.

Don’t ruin the experience for those of us who are still here. Do your part to make fandom better for everyone.

[absoluteindulgence]

I love this writer so much!!!!!

✵ STUBBORN FATE✵ underground fighter!toji

your next door neighbor looks scary, but he cannot be far from it. little did you know his gentle smile and kind demeanor was masking his other life as an infamous underground fighter and he did not like you knowing about it either.

✵ underground fighter toji x uni!reader

✵ tags — SO MUCH ANGST AND HURT, blood, violence, vague assault from stranger, corruption kink, virginity loss, soft!dom toji, slow burn, mutual pinning, sfw, heavy nsfw, unprotected sex, (toji’s 26 reader is 20), protective toji, virgin!reader, spit kink, praise kink, crying, corruption kink, oral (f!receiving), fingering, crying, angst, bite kink,

✵ notes — the way this fic took me longer than I intended. I was gonna split it into two parts but i knew I’d get lazy and not complete it so I pushed thru and made it one long one shot

you weren’t scared. no you weren’t. you’re not…fuck

why couldn’t you be more aware? yes, you took this path many times to get to your apartment, but you should’ve remembered that this time was different. unlike the other times, someone had been tailing you since you left work. of course at night this section was much darker. and so, once you turned the corner, a pair of arms came around you.

the man from earlier now smiling, a darkness overlaying his sinister face as he pulled you further into the path, away from the main street …you couldn’t breathe. your body struggling as you flailed around. another pair of arms was holding you back, as you kicked out. able to get your elbow to collid with his stomach letting one of the men drop you.

“fucking bitch!” you felt sharp pain knock you down, holding your stomach as the other man came and gave you another kick to the back. the wind knocked out of you allowed the men to easily hold you down on the ground. you were completely vulnerable, the only thing you could do was scream for help. over and over…

your mind was fuzzy, you couldn’t stop your tears, trying your best to kick your legs out, only to receive a sharp slap across your face. “stay fucking still,” the hand covering your mouth allowed you to bite his finger, causing the man to hiss in pain, his hand bleeding.

you could barely see, your vision black….calm down calm down…i can’t see I can’t see—don’t touch me. get off me….what’s going to happen after? I want to go home! your ears stung, someone was screaming…I can’t breathe…why does my throat hurt?

you hadn’t realized that the one screaming was you— a gentle hand touched your face. flinching back, throwing your arms out, screaming—

“hey! it’s me! y/n! it’s me,” the familiar voice had you blinking. I can’t—I can’t breathe…a sudden wave knocked you over, filling your eyes with fat tears, letting out a broken sob.

“t…to…toji,” you couldn’t stop your tears anymore, breaking down completely, letting the man pull you into his embrace, his arms secure around your waist as he held the back of your head, allowing you to sob into his chest. he held you close, his own eyes bloodshot as he tried to stabilize his own breathing. holding you close to hide his own body shaking.

your vision was blocked by his body, not allowing you to notice what he’d done minutes ago to the two animals that lay dead on the ground. a black car coming with a few men you’d thought you’ve seen before…..

it was your first time living away from home, or off campus, you’d dormed your first two years, but decided to finally get an apartment, not wanting to deal with roommates anymore. it was a big step forward, but you were excited…maybe too excited.

“why isn’t the door opening?!” you grumbled to yourself, wiggling the door handle over and over, jiggling the handle—

the door suddenly swung open, causing you to stumble back, tripping on your bag you’d stupidly placed right behind your feet, knocking your head against the half wall behind you with a loud thud.

“fucks going on here?” a deep voice snapped. you were grumbling to yourself, rubbing your head in pain, eyes slowly trailing up the black sweats hanging loosely on the stranger, going up to the black sweater accentuating his broad shoulders until you were finally met with the dark green eyes staring back at you. “don’t want any ads—“ he goes to close the door.

your body quickly struggling to get up, reaching out with a loud, “wait!”

his brows quirked, seeing you kneeling down in front of his door. who even is this?

“it says this is my apartment,” you turn your paper that the land lord gave you just a couple minutes ago. scribbled very messy in the corner is room 406

he reached out taking the paper to read. this allowed you some time to look over the stranger. he was quite intimidating. a shadow looming over him as if he was something you should definitely not associate with. he was a bit older then you, maybe a couple years or so. he didn’t have any wrinkles, but his face looked tired. eyes downcast, hair disheveled. what caught your attention though was the multiple cuts on his knuckles and the scar in the corner of his lip. was he part of a gang?

that didn’t stop your eyes from wandering a little more. you’d definitely never approach him willingly on the streets, yet you couldn’t stop the heat crawling up your neck. he was much bigger then anyone you’ve ever met. if you squint just a tiny bit you could see the subtle bulge—

“anyone taught you manners, kid?” your eyes snapped up, face burning from embarrassment,

you gasp. “I’m not a kid—how old are you—“

“older than you,” he quipped with a sly grin, handing you back the paper.

“the land lord’s almost 90, the new apartment is 407, he must’ve forgot,” he watched as your brows pinched together, looking down at your paper. why were you so focused, and you still haven’t gotten up from your position on the floor. cute.

“oh, ah!” your hand slaps over your mouth, head shooting up as you apologized, over and over. I’m so sorry, I must’ve been knocking like crazy! it’s all my fault! I didn’t mean to bother you!

the only thing that stopped your frantic words was the warm hand on your head. your gaze meeting the deep green eyes. stunned, your lips parted a bit too cutely for him to handle. he couldn’t help himself. he was squatting at your height, petting your cute little head because you were getting all panicky over something so silly.

“don’t worry about it,” his words went straight into your chest, your eyes practically seeing hearts. he’s so nice! you were so wrong about him, you like his warm hand.

“moving in on yer own?” he asked, immediately noticing how jittery you’re getting, how cute.

you quickly tell him that the moving guys are downstairs, which you quickly come to regret since he removed his hand from your head to look over the side of the tokyo apartment building to see the small moving truck below.

“that’s good, it seems that everything’s sorted out,” he moved to go back inside his apartment, only to feel a small hand around his wrist. a small rush filled his chest, why did he hear his heart skip? he had to listen. once he looked under his arm, the almost 26 year old, felt his heart jump. your bright eyes looking up at him.

both hands holding his wrist, unknowingly squeezing your pretty tits up just for him to see. the little gloss on your wet lips had him feeling a certain way. all he could think of was petting your head as he helped you swallow his fat girth. he could read you perfectly, he knew your pretty eyes would fill with tears, it’s too big, but he’d still praise your pretty head off just for you to get all excited and continue slobbering all over him until his dick would twitch and—

“l/n y/n, it’s nice to meet you…” you gave a respectful nod, before looking up waiting desperately to find out who your kind neighbor’s name is. not once did your hand leave his wrist.

“toji.” nothing further said, yet he felt his heart beat a bit too loudly when he saw your pretty hair fly up a bit like some ghibli movie, you were too excited.

“toji-san,” you repeated the name to feel how it sounded on your lips, not realizing that it too gave the man a similar reaction. his cheeks dusting a light pink as he felt a strain in his loose sweats. how could she be even cuter?

the encounter was not the only one you had with the mysterious man. you often heard him coming back to his apt at odd hours of the night. sometimes when you’d be buying a drink at the vending machine, you’d hear toji on the phone arguing. he tended to do that a lot. some encounters he’d have gave you the creeps. what does he do?

you obviously didn’t voice it, but you enjoyed running into him during your late night convenience store runs. you used to think it was a fun coincidence, but now it was something you looked forward to every Tuesday and Friday night’s. I guess you both needed something during these days..

“toji!” the man looked up hearing your voice. you smiled brightly jogging up to him in your big hoodie and little pajama shorts, his eyes took a quick glance at your bare legs. the small heat in his chest made him avert his gaze, but he waited allowing you to come over to him before he pushed off the fence and walked with you to the store.

“how was classes?” toji had a habit of asking about your classes. you never voiced this to him, but you knew he was really interested….

“what’re you working on?” toji sat across from you in your little apartment living room. you’d invited him saying you made too much food and he quickly took up the offer, not refusing a free meal.

“physics,” you mumble, mind focused on your problem as you leaned against your arm writing down the formula. toji was silent as he watched you, eating every couple of seconds only to pause, infatuation consuming him as he watched your eyes dart around the page as he followed along with your equation.

“is it fun?” he could see the intrigue, your eyes lighting up as you looked up, nodding your head.

“i get stuck sometimes, but when I figure out the equation it’s really fun!” you gush, cheeks dusting with excitement. toji blinked, biting his smile as he snorted.

“nerd,” his reply only had you taking fake offense.

as annoying and bothersome your neighbor could be. he had his own way of being considerate and subtly asking how you’re doing. you can’t help the butterflies it sets off. he doesn’t like talking about personal matters, yet always asks how you are.

toji, however, didn’t need a single thing from the store. but he began to notice your late night runs once you’d first moved in a semester and a half ago, which he really did not like. he began accompanying you because though Japan is considered a pretty safe country, it’s still not a guarantee, especially this late at night and in this neighborhood.

“why can’t you wait until the morning?” he’d ask you repeatedly, you’d come down for things that you wouldn’t even need that very night.

“cuz I’ll forget by the morning,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing ever. he hated how you do most of your errands at night, he hated it even more when he’d see you coming back late to your apt. but what can he do? you’re an adult, of course you’re free to do as you pleased. but that didn’t stop his stomach for turning.

the man’s eyes were focused on you, as you headed back in the direction of your building. you were going on and on about something that toji probably wouldn’t even care about if it was anyone else. but he enjoyed listening to you, he couldn’t help it when you were telling him about how your professor was praising you for your hard work and his hand was suddenly placed on your head. you stopped moving, blinking wide.

“you’re pretty smart, aren’t ya,” his deep voice had your eyes gazing up starstruck. his hand sent a wave of warmth through your body, feeling your heart beating in your ears. “such a good girl, I’m proud,” your cheeks stung with heat, the words caught in your throat because why? why did this man send your mind in shambles!

“tch, it’s not a big deal,” you try to brush off the praise, but toji can tell how much of an effect his has on you. you always melt whenever he touches your head. what would happen if he just kissed you right now? would you part your pretty lips for him? let him swallow up your whimpers—you were dazed, staring up into his deep warm eyes. he’d tease you about your homework one day, then praise you the next. you were unsure, confused, but that didn’t stop your chest from warming up.

“i—“

“ahh toji, we’ve been waiting!” your words were cut by the three men taking a smoke against a dark suv in your buildings lot. they all were big, just like toji, their arms and necks tatted, which had an uneasy feeling settle in your stomach.

“are they your friends?” you bit your cheek feeling how he retracted his hand, the two of you still walking, toji a bit more cautiously. the elevator was beside where the men were parked. you looked over at toji once he didn’t respond. feeling the hairs on your arm stick up, heart beating a little faster. his jaw was clenched, a vein bulging, and hand curled into a fist, and his eyes…they were as dark as night. “toji—“

“cmon man! we’ve been waiting for awhile now,” one of the men spoke, suddenly taking a beat until you caught his eye. “oh oh.”

your body jumped feeling toji’s hand rest on your lower back. his body almost pressing against your side like a guard dog. your eyes wavered on the men looking at you up and down.

“are ya havin’ fun with your little toy?” you felt a shiver run up your spine, feeling a warm breath against your ear.

“go straight to your apartment,” he was so close! your heart skipped a beat as he gave your lower back a little nudge in the direction.

“to—“ you looked over your shoulder, only to see that his eyes were dead set on the men across the lot. the street light casting a looming shadow over his face, his unkept hair darkening his eyes. yet…. he took a moment to meet your gaze, immediately letting his dark orbs soften with a reassuring grin.

“make sure you lock the door,” your heart flutters, “okay?” he waits for your little nod then points his head to the elevator, “good girl,” your body filled with butterflies as you calmly made way to the elevator. his eyes keeping a close watch on the men. he doesn’t move until the elevator doors finally close shut.

after your shower you tried your best to stay up, you felt a little uneasy about the situation. but you wanted to know if toji got back home safely. however, sleep overpowered your mind and you quickly knocked out on your comfy grey couch………

“we’re taking you to a hospital,” toji was holding you close as he called for the men to get an ambulance. your hand grasped his shirt, shaking your head.

“don’t,” you let out a small sigh, trying to calm down. your mind was in scrambles, desperately trying to think rationally. luckily you didn’t suspect anything to be broken.

“fuck you mean? please just listen to—“

“I said no!” you finally shout, letting go of the man, instead hugging your own body as you carefully stood up. toji swearing under his breath……..

you hadn’t seen toji in quite some time, he always seemed to be out when you’d come back home. you didn’t want to admit it, but you missed him. you missed walking with him at night. you missed giving him some extra food you’d ordered. you missed his comforting smile and warm hand. you never minded having him watch you do your homework. you wondered if he wanted to do more of your old homework.

“I finally got the tickets, cmon!” your friend, suna, had been going on about seeing this underground fight a couple months ago, however, you and your other friends didn’t believe him. suna took it a little too personally and desperately tried to buy tickets for months, and now he’s finally got them.

“this place is shady as hell,” you mumbled, yoru was holding your sleeve as you followed suna and your other two friends down the long dark alleyway, already picking up on the loud cheers and screaming.

after a few more seconds of walking, the small corridor burst into a huge underground stadium. your eyes blinking from the sudden bright lights.

“hey, stay close,” suna took your wrist leading you and yoru carefully past the huge bodies of people cheering.

“there’s so many people,” yoru shouted, your eyes trailing over the many different kinds of people that were here. it varied from high class businessmen, to normal average civilians. everyone seemed to be here.

“you guys should be on your knees thanking me,” suna boosted, you and your other friends rolling your eyes. “the price for this is not cheap,” neither of you said anything, considering how suna was a trust fund baby.

little did you know that the moment you’d stepped into the stadium, you caught a man’s unwanted attention. he’d only seen you once with toji, how beautiful, he thought, a sinister smile spreading across his teeth.

you all were watching the fights. it wasn’t like anything you’ve seen before. suna had told you guys earlier that this wasn’t the most legal friendly place, but you honestly could not have suspected this.

the rules of boxing had clear illegal moves, yet those rules did not seem to apply here. your body would cringe at the horrific sounds of bones breaking, fists breaking skin. the gruesome sounds sent your stomach turning, especially with this being with wraps instead of protective gloves like in a usual boxing match.

it was five different fights and you were getting close to the final one when a man by the name of raido, suddenly appeared in front of you. “you look like you’re enjoying the game,” his eyes closed in what seemed to be a kind smile. you felt a bit uneasy, but nodded your head, then looking past him to put out that you’re not interested.

“we’ve got some empty seats in the front,” he continued going on, this caught suna’s ear. “of course you can bring your nice little friends with you,”

“no tha—“

“holy fuck yes!” suna immediately jumps up, dragging you all with him as you scold him.

“suna!” you all hit him, clearly noticing how off putting this man is. he had tattoos that peaked under his dress shirt, he smelled of cigarettes, alcohol, and blood, and what was even more disturbing was the sunglasses. you couldn’t see where he was looking.

you kept an eye as the man, walking back to his seat, he seemed pretty important considering he had a place high in the stadium that overlooked the entire place. he whispered to the men he was sitting with, they all turned to meet your gaze.

“shit—“ you looked away, heart thumping as you prayed they didn’t catch you staring. luckily the next fighters were coming into the ring. finally allowing you a chance to breathe—“

suddenly you felt your dinner clawing up your throat.

“huh…”

“what is it?” yoru noticed your eyes wide open, staring straight ahead. “y/n—“

“and the moment you’d all been waiting for! the reason why any of you are here! the emperor of the night! tooooooojjjjjiiiiiii zeninnnnn!!!” the stadium burst with screams.

you couldn’t breathe. it felt like everything around you had gone quiet. you missed him. you cursed yourself. it’s been over three weeks or more, and now he was here. you felt your heart hammering. your mind dazed as he took of his robe. chills ran through your body at the sight. you would never have guessed. you only ever saw him with a hoodie or loose sweater, but now stripped down to just some boxing shorts, you had a clear view of the dragon tattoo that decorated his broad sculpted back. his bicep showcasing another collection of tattoos that wrapped around his arms. his sculpted thighs branded as well.

“y/n!” you were brought back by yoru’s concerned shaking, you apologize brushing her off so you can watch him. you didn’t know much about boxing honestly, but knowing this was not following the rules made you feel uneasy seeing toji here.

the night spent in your apartment as he looked through your old exams. you knew he had secrets, he rarely spoke about them except that he started working at a young age. he didn’t have time for studies. he’d always say you’re smarter than him. yet, he would be invested in your old homework. writing old problems down “just for fun”. the constant scratching of his head. his green eyes scanning the page as he tapped the end of the pencil against his scar on his lip.

“how’d you get this?” he’d shyly mumble, only for you to show him how you arrived at the right answer. he held onto every single word. he liked it. he liked it even more when you’d explain it to him kindly, no yelling, no degrading, just a simple explanation; and he’d get it. he wasn’t dumb…no… you think he was smarter than anyone you’ve ever met.

but he was in a place like this.

you wanted him to win. you didn’t want him getting hurt like the previous fighters. you wanted him to win so you can grab his hand and take him home…

toji’s feet pounded the ground, as big as he was, he was fast. faster than the fighters before. it was too easy for him. he dodged like no other, countered like no other, and punched like no other. as fun as this was for the crowd, it was not just a game for others. and for toji, it was a job.

he crashed onto the stool in his corner, spitting out some blood when his opponent got a cheap shot in. rinsing his mouth with the water his team fed him.

“fuck is taking you so long?” Raido suddenly appeared beside toji’s side, leaning against the ring. “you have a job.”

“I’ll rip that fucking flapper straight outta yer face if you speak to me that way, again,” his team was dead silent, frozen as ice. “you understand?” raido could not answer. instead he made the mistake of letting his eyes flicker up for barely a second. yet toji immediately caught his line of vision and he felt his entire body run cold.

“what is she doing here?” toji suddenly stood up, his eyes were dark, body boiling.

“boss, the rounds starting,” one of his men was waiting for toji to open his mouth to put the mouth guard on. toji couldn’t think clearly, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath he took.

yoru was yelling constantly in your ear. your eyes wavering between her and the ring. you couldn’t catch raido’s smirk as he strides back to his seat. he was lucky, if you weren’t here, he didn’t know if he’d be able to succeed, that’s only if his men gave him the correct information. if the boss truly likes you then…

“what’s this!!” the audience is in screams, having just witnessed the cleanest maneuvering and a clear hook the immediately knocks his opponent out, jaw definitely broken. “The emperor of the night!” suna was going absolutely ballistic beside you.

toji couldn’t cheer, his eyes instead settled on the men in the booth high up in the stands, raido whispering in their ears as they boiled with anger. he’d won… he’d won, but he hadn’t completed what was expected of him. what was ordered of him. his opponent was to have a minimum of two broken limbs in the course of seven rounds, and yet he’s won with a simple knockout in just three rounds. of course it was for one reason only…

he didn’t need you seeing him like that.

what he’d thought was something to spare you, only seemed to shine a huge spotlight on how deeply you affect the “boss”. it wasn’t hidden either, no, it was definitely shown to everyone else, friend and enemy as raido came forth slipping something into the hosts pocket.

“as we do every night, an audience member is chosen to greet the champion with his medal!” the audience bursting with excitement. “and our winner is!” The host takes out the slip of paper from his pocket and reads of the seat number.

“C8” the audience fell silent as they all looked to the front rows, waiting for the winner to stand.

“that’s you y/n!” yoru yelped, suna gasping as your friends stared at you dumbfounded.

“have we found our winner?” The host shouted. “ahh what a beautiful young lady!” the audiences that could see, were letting out whistles. “now don’t be shy.” you felt uncomfortable under the eyes of the entire stadium, your eyes briefly glancing up at the stands, shivering to see all the men in suits practically feasting on you with their greedy eyes.

your heart beating was the only thing you could hear. your friends shoving you forward didn’t help either. you silently prayed for it to be you, you wanted to see him closer. you didn’t want anyone else near him, touching him, looking at him—but…but now…now you wanted to run away, you didn’t like it. you didn’t like the way he was looking at you.

his warm eyes and gentle smile was not there. no instead their was an unfamiliar hardness replaced in the kneeled fighters face. raido held your hand, helping you into the ring as he handed you the medal to gift the fighter.

the stadium was filled with cheers and applause, you were dragging your feet, unaware of how close raido stayed, until you took another step forward and felt your body suddenly lunging forward. it was too fast to process, because suddenly your body was pressed firmly against toji’s warm body. you could feel his heart beating fast, and his hand was so softly resting on the back of your head. you hadn’t realized that he’d immediately took your wrist pulling you into his embrace.

“I guess the emperor also has a type!” the host laughed, taking the attention off the fighter as he joked, allowing raido to smirk at the fighter.

“seems like you’ve made your decision,” his words laced with snark and confidence.

“big talk after the fact,” toji couldn’t help the deep laugh that was crawling it’s way up his chest. you felt goosebumps erupt on your skin feeling his chest rumble with laughter. “ahh I guess I like games too,” toji’s glare immediately had raido averting his gaze as he walked away, not before looking down at you.

there was a brief moment of silence. he was sweaty, sticky, and clearly bothered. but his arms were careful not to hurt you.

“what’re you doing here?” his voice had shifted tones, suddenly your mind could immediately recognize he was directing this to you.

“I came with my friends,” you gulp.

“if I ever catch you here again—“ your head pushes off to look him in the eyes, letting his words be directed at you and not the air, he falls silent. words caught in his throat, green eyes wavering as he met your bright ones. he cursed himself even more, his heart was hammering uncontrollably.

“who are you to tell me—“ his hand pulls you to his shoulder, fingers behind your neck as your eyes looked past his shoulder feeling his lips tickle your cheek as he spoke.

your mind flashes to the night your classmate walked you home. you spent some extra time in the lab to finish some work and test out a certain theory you wanted to run by your professor. you could tell your lab partner was trying to get with you. he constantly hit on you, flirted during your labs, but he was pretty charming. so you weren’t afraid when he asked to walk you home.

toji had been roaming around the building. he knocked on your door a few hours ago. he’d ordered some food for when you get back. this time it was his treat. you were always home at this hour. why do I care? toji was coming back from getting a drink from the store when he noticed the exchange happening in front of the building.

you were holding your bag, lips moving as you spoke with your hands. the unfamiliar man stood in front, his eyes darting over your figure. his fingers grazing your exposed shoulder—

“ah!” your body was suddenly yanked back, hitting a firm body. “toji?” glancing over your shoulder at the man holding your wrist, meeting your gaze. why did he do that? he had no clue what was going on. “this is my lab par—“

“I ordered thai,” he cuts you off. he was praying you couldn’t see the warm heat crawling up his ears.

“oh, okay, I’ll be right up—“

“it’ll get cold, you don’t like cold drunken noodles,” he said holding your wrist a bit more gently as he pulled you with him. ignoring all the alarms going off in his head.

“y/n—“ your lab partner called, as you glanced over your shoulder.

“I’ll send over the report tomorrow morning,” unbeknownst to you, toji was glaring aggressively at the man. a giant guard dog looming over you, immediately making him feel unsafe as he quickly went off.

“did you wait long?” you opened your apartment, allowing toji to sit in the living room, legs crossed as he opened up the food, laying it out.

“no,” his tongue darted out touching his scar. eyes following your form as you disappeared into your room. the door slightly ajar, self control wasn’t something toji was familiar with. especially when it came to you. he couldn’t help his eyes from watching your form pull over your top.

fuck, his gaze dragged over the brief glimpses of your naked back. he wondered how his rough hands would feel against the soft skin, how his lips would feel as he searched the spot that’d make you whine. why’re his pants getting tight, he gulped seeing you slip on a loose fitting tshirt, kicking off your pants.

his mind ran wild. eyes darkening, he wanted to bend you over right there. he wanted to feel your ass against his palm, he wanted to kiss your shoulder, stroke his palm down to your warm pussy. how wet would you be? would you shy under his gaze or rut against his hand. ahh he’d peel your pretty pink panties to the side and pull his fat length—

“you didn’t have to wait,” you quickly shuffled out of the room, yellow shorts flowing against your glowing thighs, plopping down in front of your neighbor.

“you’re the one that likes having the first bite,” he quips, ignoring the bulging hard on he’s carrying for you.

“nuh-uh, I just like—“ his fingers slip a spring roll in your mouth,

“having the first bite,” he finishes, watching you take a bite, cheeks heating aggressively as he brushed the crumbs from your lips.

“you my maid now?” you say with a mouth full, trying to conceal your arousal.

“you’d like that. like it when i feed you?” he tilts his head, eyes half lidded as he watched you blink. “cat got your tongue?”

“no,” you huff, embarrassed how flustered you’re getting.

“open your mouth,” his command automatically had your lips parting as he slipped in a noodle, not bothering to use his chopsticks, allowing his fingers to touch your wet lips. your lips enclosed around his two fingers.

“you like sucking on my fingers?” his experience with previous women, was able to shield his beating heart. so infatuated with your warm mouth licking his finger, rolling over the pads of his rough digit. he swore under his breath, pulling his fingers out as he dragged your bottom lip down. your tongue lulling out in submission.

“are you still a virgin?” his thumb pulled at your bottom lip. your legs were clenching together, a warmth pooling inside your light pink panties. shifting for some friction.

“you have a corruption kink or something?” you bite his thumb.

“not necessarily,” he swears as you suck on his thumb, eyes fluttering as you open your lips to take little breaths. “you like sucking on people’s fingers?” his pupils were dilating.

“your not just people,” you reply, toji cursing at your flustered state.

“you’re not hungry?” he bites his cheek, shifting his weight feeling his dick straining.

“oh, ya,” your lips peeling away from his thumb as toji brushes his hand atop your head. petting you as you generously ate the food he’d ordered. your eyes would dart up to meet his, but he only ate his food as if you hadn’t just been sucking on his fingers, visibly turned on by it too. instead, toji helped you clear the rest of the food as he cleaned it up.

“you have more work?” he walked back into the small living room seeing your papers now piled on the table. your hand switching between jotting notes with your pencil, to typing quickly on your laptop.

“I have a report I need to finish up,” toji suddenly remembered the encounter earlier. he was unfamiliar with this feeling. he couldn’t understand why he pulled you away from that kid. and he couldn’t reason why he isn’t sitting in his usual place across from you, but instead plants himself behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

your body was on a fire. huh? “you t-tired?” you cleared your throat trying to remain calm.

“thought I’d keep ya company,” he mumbled, lips pressing feather like kisses on your exposed neck. your eyes fluttered as his hand brushed your exposed thigh. “you’re burning up,” he whispers, causing your head to lull back on his shoulder as his palm generously squeezed your hip. “I’m distracting you?”

“ya,” you sigh, whimpering oh so softly.

“if I asked you to let my eat your pussy, how wet would you get?” your definitely blew a fuse. head steaming as you clenched around nothing, definitely soaking your panties completely. Toji’s head went back in laughter.

“asshole!” you elbow his side, making him groan. “don’t tease virgins! it’s not nice!” you turn back to your work, desperately trying to calm your body.

toji settled peacefully behind you. eyes following your homework as if he wasn’t sporting a hard boner that was pressed against your lower back.

“toji-“

“keep working, I’ll keep up,” he reassured, ignoring your stiff body until you returned to your work. shoulders slowly relaxing, body easily molding in his embrace as he’d mumble here and there. couldn’t you also use this formula? how’d you get to that? his fingers danced on your thigh, gently massaging the flesh of your inner thigh, his warm palm had a wave of heat coursing down south, and he didn’t care.

his fingers would tickle as he crawled higher up to the pulsing heat. your shorts loose enough for his fingers to slip inside your pant hole and tickle your panties. your breathing hitched as toji continued talking as if this was just one of your normal little sessions. it was a good distraction.

“I’m sorry,” toji retracted his hand, you were too focused on your work to hear what he’d said, but his hand returned to your thigh.

nothing happened after. toji fell asleep beside you, legs stretched out under the table as he laid on his side, arm swung over your lap as you finished up your work before you too crashed on the floor. and yet…here you are now…

“you wanna act like a bratty little college kid, then go get fucking wasted at some fucking party and stay up late smokin’ pot, fuck if I care,” his voice dropped, warm breath only sending a cold feeling across your body, “go on a date somewhere else. get your pussy wet fucking on some ferris wheel,” you felt sick the more he went. “but don’t you dare come back here.” your heart wouldn’t stop pounding. “do I make myself clear?”

you aggressively try to push him away only for his grip to tighten clearly not finished. “you’re a big fucking problem, we talk a couple times doesn’t give you any idea what position you’ve put me in. I’m not your fucking boyfriend or some shitty friend; you’re nothing to me. so you’re going to leave and I never…never want to see your face again.”

you finally get free with a harder push, falling back on your ass. eyes wavering on his face. you couldn’t recognize him. this wasn’t the same man who’d walk with you late at the night, he wasn’t the kind man that would pat your head whenever you did something good…no…this wasn’t him.

the long nights spent in your apartment explaining equations, only for him to gradually catch up in which he’s finally beginning to understand the problems on his own. sharing food as you’d lean over the table to correct his problems and he wouldn’t feel insecure in the least bit that you’re a girl and you’re helping him. smarty pants, don’t let it get to your head.

“y/n—“ your friend’s calls fall on deaf ears as you quickly made your exit, ignoring everything and everyone around you.

toji quietly watched until you were completely out of his sight. allowing him the opportunity to have his full attention on the men in the booth. dead men walking………

“what’re you doing?” toji stood from his spot as he watched you walking down the path, clearly trying to get back home. “y/n!”

you didn’t answer, instead focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, one arm across your stomach holding your side, as the other wiped the tears that felt endless.

the fighters jaw clenched as he watched you completely ignore him. his chest filling with frustration because how could this have happened. it was a message—someone was definitely targeting you in order to get to him—

a sudden yelp had toji immediately kicking off the pavement, arm around your waist keeping you from hitting the ground. you struggled in his hold, desperately trying to wiggle out “let…go,” your hands were clawing at his forearm, whining when he wouldn’t set you free.

“let me help you—“

“no!” you shout, only to whimper quickly after, suddenly feeling the kicks you received earlier. “I’m doing you a favor.”

“what’re you talkin—“

“you didn’t want me! I’m sparring you the trouble it’ll cause,” toji could feel your body trembling, your eyes stinging with anger and pain.

“hey…hey, take a deep breath, can you do that for me?” toji sets aside any of his own thoughts in order to calm your mind. talking you through deep breaths as he carefully kept his arm around your waist, until you were stepping into your apartment. sitting you down on the couch and moving to the bathroom.

“I guess it really would be trouble,” you mumble faintly, however, the man is able to pick up on it as he opens the first aid supplies. his green eyes flickering up to see your own swollen ones staring outside.

“I’m sorry,” your eyes return to him, watching as he gently cleans the cut on your lip and cheek. you don’t look at him. look at me, please! his thoughts were scrambled. no don’t, I don’t deserve it…

you felt your chest tighten, feeling the weight—he buried his face in your lap, hands gripping the sides of your long green skirt. your lips trembling as you watched his shoulders shake with anger. he’d unbuttoned your cream shirt, and he physically felt nauseous.

he’s caused worse, he’s received worse. but the dark bruise on your side looked like the worst possible damage in the world to him.

“why’re you mad?” your jaw clenched, blood boiling at his audacity. he had no right.

“I’ll kill them,” his words were muffled, he couldn’t think straight. “I’ll kill then all—“

“why?” his head snapped up, looking at you as if you’d just asked the most bizarre question ever.

“why?” he repeated, trying desperately to control his breathing, yet his eyes continued to look at the dark purple bruise.

“yes. why,” you pushed his hands off you, cursing as you stumbled only for his hands to come up to your waist, allowing you another chance to push them away.

“why? because they fucking hurt you!” he shouted, no longer able to contain his anger. especially with how loose you’re taking this. “you’re bleeding, and bruised—“

“nothings broken,” you snap back, staring out the window, not giving him the time of day.

“don’t be stupid.”

“what?” you whip your head over your shoulder, brows pinched. “you’ve come back with black eyes, the guys in that ring have broken bones, smashed in faces—“

“fuck kinda comparison are you tryna make here?!”

“the one between you and me,” your eyes were leaking, unbothered as you ripped out the pages throwing them piece by piece. “I’m the fucking problem, but I’m the one that you always come too. I’m hurt, but you’re always angry! you’re always angry even if you’re quiet even when you’re teasing me. I’m the idiot, but you’re an even bigger one!”

he stood silent.

“I left you alone because I thought… that it would stop your pain,” toji felt his heart squeeze, he didn’t like seeing you like this. what’s happening right now? of course this is his fault. when is it ever not his fault!? he’s brought this life on you, he caused this. only you’ve ever called him smart, but this man was nothing close to being smart. instead letting his mouth speak on foolish impulse.

“maybe i need to get further away.”

your tears collecting in your broken eyes. throat dry, lungs gradually running out of air over the course of the night.

“fuck…fuck y-“ you were holding your chest, clawing at your skin as you ran out of oxygen, breathing turning into hiccups for air. toji was an idiot.

stupid mouth. his body never listens. immediately holding you as he kneeled with your falling body.

“y/n! y/n, listen to my voice,” he held your cheek as you gasped for air, your panic attack sending your mind into a state of shock. “calm down…breathe, babygirl.”

your nails dug into his wrist, getting scared the more you tried to calm down. “breathe with me, come on, I know you’re a smart girl.” he held your hand letting you place it on your stomach allowing you a conscious physical feeling of breathing in and out, as he did it with you.

the panic attack slowly began to subside as you took in a few more deep breaths. his warm hand littered with scars and open cuts, gently caressed your cheek. your eyes gazing up at him, you hated him. but that didn’t stop you from squeezing his wrist.

his heart couldn’t shut up, what am I doing? this was not what he’d been preaching. quite the opposite. this was the closest he’s been to you. arms protectively holding you close. his cheek propped on his elbow as he gazed down at your sleeping form. cheeks still a bit damp. your scent engulfing him as he felt high.

“idiot.”

“are you still mad at me?” toji leaned against the vending machine as he watched you walk past him. you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder for the past month. and yet, he still stayed on you like a lost puppy.

“you’re the one that’s mad,” you roll your eyes, laughing to yourself when he’d do his routine of jogging up beside you, hands deep in his pockets as he accompanied you in your night shopping.

“why’re you still going out at night?” he huffed, frowning as he tilted his head staring at you from the side.

“I have errands.”

“which can be done later. can’t you be more cautious?” his jaw clenched.

“but you’re here,” you finally look at him. he blinks for a moment, noticing that the bruise on your cheek has healed, along with the cut on your lip.

“well, i won’t always be,” he bit his cheek, noticing your gaze still on him.

“then leave,” you pick up the pace. toji was starting to grow frustrated. you were not cautious. you went about your life as if there’s no risk. you didn’t care if it was night or day. you did as you pleased as if you hadn’t experienced a traumatizing event a month ago. and that terrified the man.

his hand held your arm, turning you back to him. “what’s going on? what’s the problem?”

“you tell me?” you shove back at him.

“you!” why does he always get so angry. “you’re the fucking problem!” toji cursed over and over. “why can’t you listen to me?”

“you’re nothing to me,” you threw his words back at him. he clenched his jaw.

“what do you want from me?” he needed you, he needed you so badly, but you can not choose him. he won’t allow you to trust him. not even if he’d give his life for you.

“you—“ your jaw clenched as well. he always makes your blood boil. “you’re just an idiot,” you burst. “fucking idiot!” you stomp away. “fuck you!”

“fuck you!” he yelled back.

toji cursed following you to and back from the store. “y/n!” toji called as you sped to your apartment, only for the door to slam in his face. “fuck me.”

his shoulders dropped, leaning his head against your door. what is he doing? he can’t put you through this, yet he already is. he was unfamiliar with this feeling. longing for someone. he didn’t like how calm he felt in your company. how his stomach churned whenever you’d meet his eyes with you’re bright and pure ones. you were too good for him. you were smart and ambitious. you had no limits, but if he was there he’d only drag you down. he wasn’t good for you.

the blood splattered on the floor. the cheers faded in the background as toji rolled his shoulders back. he was surprised to see the opponent rise to his feet. he usually had no thoughts except the job in mind during these matches. yet, it always gets scrambled when one person faces him.

not here.

your arms and legs crossed, leaning against the seats in the second row, chin up as you maintained eye contact on the ring, specifically the star of the night.

toji could not afford to loose out on the money. he’d already gotten to the sixth round, barely keeping this opponent alive in order to break his right arm, and two ribs. but you’re here. why!

“fuck!” toji rinsed his mouth with the water. letting his team slip the guard back in his mouth, eyes sharp as he met your gaze. he was angry. feral. but you stay unfazed.

fuck it. this is what you wanted. he wanted you to leave him. so he’ll lay out all his cards. no limits.

he looked like a beast, his agility was superhuman, and his strength could not compare to anyone else. he snapped the man’s arm with a quick and calculated jab to the joint, and a hook directly hitting his bottom two ribs, cracking them instantly. the man’s scream and the sound of bones breaking made audiences cheer or look away gagging.

your grip was tight, nails digging into your bicep as you averted your eyes down. your heart was hammering. what’re you doing here? you’re asking for it now! but you looked up, as horrified as you felt, it didn’t compare to the complete and utter hurt in toji’s eyes.

you stayed seated, people jumping around you, an audience member handing toji another medal, that was cheap and easily disposable. his looming form stood back up, taking quick and long strides across and out of the ring, until an arm wrapped around your bicep.

“ow!” you wince, his strength was something you couldn’t compete with. “owww toji!”

“this hurts?” he snaps, not letting go until you’ve made it all the way outside, having gone through a back passage, as he finally let go of you. the sounds of cars and a bustling night city in the distance.

“you hurt me!” you yell back.

“was I? I didn’t know,” his words laced with sarcasm. his hands rubbing his face. he was angry. “are you dumb?”

“no.”

“yes,” his eyes follow you. arms crossed again.

“why’re you so mad?” you’re really pushing his buttons.

“I’m the idiot!?” he exclaims. “Me!? fuck me!”

“you said I’m nothing, so why do you care so much? honestly it’s hypocritical. I can do what I want—“

“no you can’t! do you like acting like a fucking brat? you’re not allowed here—“

“who says?”

“me!” his chest is fuming, eyes wide and tired. “I said I don’t want to see you here.”

“no you said you never wanted to my face ever again. anywhere. but you’ve been breaking your dumbass rule over and over again. so it’s only fair that I do too,” his jaw clenches. “and I’m not a brat.”

“go home, y/n,” toji turns around, there’s no use wasting his breath. you’ve always been stubborn, since the day you’ve met. at least he dragged you away from the eyes inside—

his breath hitched. a weight pressed up against his back. toji felt his heart pulse, swallowing slowly as he feels your arms tighten around his fit waist. your hands were always so cold, so why was his body on fire? your face pressed deeper against his shoulder blades. “let go.”

“no,” you can feel your heart beating against your chest, stomach churning as you hold onto him so dearly. “I’m not leaving without you.” the fighter swears under his breath, eyes clenched tight recalling all the blood on his hands, the ghosts of the past. yet here’s an angel unable to let go of a monster—

“y/n, i said let go,” his hands try to pull your wrists off him, but you’re grasping onto him so desperately as you shake your head behind him. “stop acting like this!”

he’s able to get free, spinning around to face you. your hands balled into fists. he doesn’t need to say anything, he can easily read your expression. your lip jutted out, your eyes darting between his devoid of any ounce of doubt. his breath hitched. why are you so obsessed with getting hurt?

he left again—

that didn’t seem to work though. you were persistent. you came almost every night. watching every single one of his matches. it didn’t matter if you had work all day or exams the night morning. you would still show up. he would shout, yell, curse—repeatedly urging you to fucking listen to him—

“It’s fucking dangerous! what don’t you get?!”

“well that’s my fucking problem then,” you shrug, only causing the fighter to slam his fist behind you, cursing as the concrete alley wall broke the skin of his knuckles.

“fuck me,” his head dropped, brows scrunched. he can’t do everything. living this kind of life and having you. it was impossible. “I need to keep you safe.” he mumbles.

“i don’t need saving—“

“yes, you do,” he feels your delicate hand lift his head. “why’re you doing this to me? you’re always messing with my head,” he curses, your hands feel so nice. they could probably cleanse him of everything he once was, the horrors of his life and the trauma of the past. but he didn’t need the dirt staining you too.

“I’m not doing anything,” you answer, thumb carefully touching the scar on his lip. heart fluttering as his eyes fell to your lips. his entire being was fighting not to crash his lips onto yours. he wanted to know what you felt like. he could’ve done it with you ages ago, but it didn’t feel right. he didn’t want to disappear the next day. if he wanted to have you, he’d become obsessed—

“do I have to choose?” you couldn’t fully understand his predicament. you didn’t even know how dark his past was. but to you it didn’t matter. none of it mattered except that you could see the giant burden that had this man walking with a weight on his shoulders. living a life of crime and misery, when he had so much potential. potential that he thought to be useless, that was told by others was useless. but not to you. he was a diamond in the rough, and you were not letting that go.

“up to you,” you pulled away this time. as much as you held on, you couldn’t chain him down. he had to set himself free, you just gave him the key.

you knew what you were doing was dangerous. but you only had his best interests in mind—

the banging on the door startled you up. your eyes wavering at the extensive pounding. fuck fuck fuck, you messed up big time! it was because you kept going to his fights, now those men are here to kill you! skin you alive! fuck!

“shit,” you tripped getting off the couch, banging your side on the coffee table, hand quickly slapping over your mouth. the bangs were not stopping, praying the killer hadn’t heard you. your knees scurry across the floor reaching for the baseball bat—

“y/n, open the fucking door!” your hand freezes on the bat, ears perking. “y/n! come on I know you’re here!—“

“don’t fucking scare me like that!” you shout, swinging the door open, only to stumble back as toji grabbed hold of you. “what the fu—“ your eyes blow wide. “what the fuck!”

toji was drenched in blood. face splattered, arms and clothes—

“are you okay?!” his hand held your face, looking over it.

“me? what’re you—look at yourself!” your eyes couldn’t catch up with all the blood. was it his?

“stop yelling!”

“you’re yelling!” you curse as toji holds your wrist dragging you into the apartment. his hands moving around grabbing alcohol as he began listing a bunch of things as you ran from your apartment to his, not having time to look around before running back and dropping everything on the table.

“what do I do?” your eyes were shifting from toji’s face and his heaving body. suddenly feeling a warm weight press on your head.

“deep breath,” his voice sunk into your mind, gaze meeting as you swallowed thickly. “you’re fine?”

“stop asking that—“

“you’re fine? right?” his stern words immediately sent a flutter swarming inside you.

“yes…I’m fine,” your brows pinched together as he brushed his thumb across . “who’s bloo—“

“not mine…” he sighs tilting his head back against the couch. “not all of it is mine.” he takes a deep breath, “cut my shirt,” you immediately grab the scissors, cutting open his shirt, swallowing at the bloodied clothes as it fell down. you’re eyes darted around his body, the multiple scars and tattoos facing you now, but the bullet wounds on his side stood out.

“I’m not a surgeon—“

“you’re a nerd, don’t you read books?” he quips. your face shifting into anger, “there there, don’t get wet on me. I’ll talk you through it,” toji held your face, you’re panicked eyes couldn’t wrap your head around this. “now grab that scalpel—“

this didn’t seem like the first time something like this had happened. but it was the first time he was asking someone for help. his eyes followed your face, you’d mumble back to him after every order. “liking science doesn’t make me a surgeon.”

“just a bratty nerd, gonna run your mouth all night?” toji tsked, “ow! fuck!”

“maybe remember who has the knife right now.”

“scalpel, dummy,” toji corrects.

“scalppel, dummy,” you mimic, rolling your eyes with a huff. toji had a mouth on him, but it really came out when you had to dig for the bullet in his side.

“sorry,” you cringe, watching toji fall back on the couch.

“forgot how clumsy your hands are,” he sighed, your hands were shaky and it wasn’t helping. but eventually you pulled out the bullet and continued listening to his instructions.

“are you usually this submissive?” he was patting your head, eyes half lidded as he watched you work. you were wearing your pajamas. it was past midnight, his eyes flickering up to see your show paused. it was a bad habit of yours, staying up late to binge show.

“just when you’re half dead,” toji snorts.

“worth it,” his eyes follow your concentrated face, nose scrunched up as you finish stitching his hip.

“why are you not explaining anything?” your eyes dart to catch his.

“you didn’t ask,” he maintains eye contact. his smile only causing you to raise a brow.

“why’re you smiling?” you cut the end of the suture.

“is that not allowed?”

“it’s creepy.”

“you don’t like anything I do,” he rests his head to the side, staring up at you as you cover his stitches.

“that’s no true,” you mumble, still focused on treating him.

“then tell me,” his hand reaches up, cupping your cheek.

“huh?”

“tell me what you like about me?” his body was exhausted, yet he still had time to make you feel anxious, butterflies swarming inside you.

“i-i…” your face was heating up, words getting caught in your throat. “maybe you tell me what you like about me first!”

“your head,” toji easily answers. you snort, only for him to continue. “you’re the smartest person I know.” his grin suddenly has your chest warming. “you’re a good teacher.” his hand slides down to hold your hand instead, playing with your small fingers. “you’re pretty cute when you help me out. you rant a lot, and go on about stuff that I don’t fully get, but it’s cute in its own way. especially when we’re together here and you get nervous when I—“

“stop!” toji looks up, heart swelling as he sees the flustered state he’s put you in. it was too easy. “why did you actually answer,” you’re looking down at your hands, the dried blood didn’t phase you.

“you asked.”

“I did but like…”

“not good with your feelings?” toji clicks his tongue.

“my feelings?!” you blurt, cheeks flushed. “you-you’re just…”

“just what?” his arms suddenly hoist you up, planting you on his lap.

“what’re you doing?” you yelp, holding his shoulders as he leans his head up, sly grin painted on his lips.

“nothing,” you almost blew a fuse. the fairy lights casted a shadow over his face, his pupils dilated, lips parted. why does he look so good right now? one second he was bleeding out on your couch, the other he’s fucking teasing you!

“don’t,” you cover your face quickly, trying desperately to control your breathing. if he had you…if you gave yourself up and he continued this life, you didn’t know if your heart could bare it. “I don’t like seeing you hurt.” your words were muffled.

“this was the last time,” his hands wrapped around your small hands. “no more fighting.” you allowed him to see your flustered face. your lips wet and pouty, eyes half lidded. oh fuck. “that’s not the kind of face of someone that’s worried.”

“I am!”

“then why do I wanna kiss you right now?” your breath hitched, cueing the man to crash his lips against yours not wasting a single second.

your mind burst. stunned whines fall on deaf ears as toji holds your neck, thumb pressing up on your jaw, tilting your head as he devoured your lips. tongue slipping into your inviting lips as you held his wrist.

“you’re done?” you pant, “you’re done with that life?” toji kisses your lips again, the pecks expressing how much he’s longed for this. “will everything be okay?”

his lips trailed down the column of your neck. “I’ll make it okay,” he bit down on your shoulder causing a moan to slip out. “as long as you’re here.”

your hands pulled his face back up, lips attacking his once again. he smiled feeling your inexperience desperately crave for his attention, how cute. he helped your lips move with his, tongue playing as he held your hip against him, feeling his own arousal stir up.

“is it gonna hurt?” you mumble, fingers tangled in his hair.

“I’ll open you up, so you’re all wet and loose fer me. I’ll stretch you-“

“wait!” toji looks up. stunned to see your flustered expression. “I meant is it gonna hurt you? you’re the one who’s beaten up!” you blurt, still trying to wrap your head around what he’d just said. toji broke into loud laugh, cackling as he slipped his hands under your shirt.

“you’re so cute,” he catches your bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling on the soft tissue as you whine. the man grins once he pulls away to see you chasing after his lips. his fingers dragging your shirt over your head.

your cheeks darken as you feel the breeze against your exposed chest. nipples perking up like good little buds.

“aww, you got all hard,” he cooes, almost sending you into a coma as he caresses the soft tissue. his hands were huge, molding your tits in his grip. thumbs circling the pretty pebbles.

“you’re staring too much,” you cower, hands going to his eyes, as toji chuckles.

“getting shy now?”

“no, just—stop staring, perve—ah,” your face twists, body almost convulsing as toji pinches your sensitive nipples, only to latch his lips around one. “what the—ahh, you’re,, hahh-ah you’re biting!”

your hands grip the back of his neck, hips lifting as he held your chest to his face, sucking dark bruises on your bouncy tits. his voice groaning as he stared up at you. so pretty…so pretty… he couldn’t stop. he wanted to see more. wanted to hear more. he needed to touch more.

“pullin my hair?” his chest rose and fell, cheeks flushed a dark pink as your fingers held the back of his head, holding him back with his hair.

“you just started touching me!” you were beyond flustered. your face and chest flushed, nipples so perky and wet, you looked so fucking gorgeous.

“I can leave.”

“will you?” your fingers loosened from his hair.

“no,” his lips ghosting your own. “i wanna kiss you. touch you…I wanna fuck you so good, sweetheart.” your legs tried to close, but you only pressed down on his lap. “you’d like that?” his lips curled up. it was too easy to read your body. “you’re still a virgin right?”

“you really do have a corruption kink!” you blurt, cheeks puffed. “ah-you’re always biting—toji!” your arms squeeze in, unconsciously pressing your tits together as your pretty voice rises. his teeth nibbling at your nipples again. only to lift you up, tossing you beside him.

“i only have one for you,” his lips trailed down your body, sucking and biting as you squirmed. fingers permanently in his hair as he relished in your rough pulling.

“how are you gonna open me up?” you use his words from earlier, panting softly as you held his hair. his eyes smiled as he licked his scar.

“how do you want me too?”

your cheeks were flushed, yet you’re able to suck up the courage to place your tongue between your middle and forefinger.

he kissed his teeth, “dirty fucking girl, who taught you that?” his dick throbbed in his pants watching you act up from how turned on you were.

“what if I’m not a virgin?” you didn’t know what you were saying, maybe you just wanted to see how he’d react. you didn’t expect his lips to curl into a sinister smile as you watched your shorts fly off your body.

“then I’ll have to fuck you until your pussy can only cum for me,” his lips licked your torso, biting down as you squirmed, whines music to his ears. “but looking at how drenched your cute panties are, I doubt you’re anything but a pretty little virgin desperate to get her pussy ate.”

“toji, you’re too foul mouthed,” you whine, contradicting your so called pride as your hips try to get him to go lower. pressing his head down.

“shit, you’re teasing me now,” he dropped his forehead on your belly, laughing as he rubbed the outside of your thighs, fingers curling around the pretty light pink panties. “let’s make you cry, baby.”

you gasped, toji ripping the material of your panties as he brought your panties up to his face. “these are cute,” he grins watching your face steaming.

“stop doing weird stuff!” you slap his chest lightly, afraid of hurting him.

“just complimenting you, pretty,” he inhales the material, causing you to cry in embarrassment. “fine, fine, I’ll do that on my own,” he teases.

“perve!” he opens your legs nice and wide for his eyes. pupils dilating to a high at the jaw dropping sight. you forget your embarrassment, caught off guard by his reaction. he was mesmerized.

“fuck baby, fuck you were hiding this for so long,” toji was audibly groaning at the sight. pre-cum staining his boxers as his big cock throbbed at the sight. your pussy was finally visible to his eyes, his rough hands keeping them open as he watched your gapping hole throb.

“toji! you’re so shameless!”

“me?” his tongue kissed his teeth. his thumb suddenly began circling your clit, your juices immediately coating it. “you’re absolutely drenched,” he’s had his fair share of ‘long nights’ yet not once has he encountered someone that’s made him so visibly aroused without touching him. “you’re fucking leaking, and I’ve barely even touched you.”

“toji—wai—ahh—uh!” your screams bounced off the small apartment walls as his lips latched onto your clit, sucking desperately. he was buried between your legs, nose deep in your pretty cunt as he sucked and lapped, moaned and whined, he can’t even recall a moment when he’s felt so fucking good. has eating pussy always made him this aroused? no…fuck, he was really hard…it was just you.

“you taste so good,” his eyes were glazed over as your fingers dug into his scalp. thighs tightening around his head as your back arched off the couch, crying out. he was humming in encouragement, egging you for more until the cord finally snapped.

“ ‘m cum—ah! ‘m cumming!” your body convulsed as toji drank everything up. his tongue inside your hole as you gripped his hair whining, riding out his flicking tongue. he didn’t stop after you finished. “toji!” you gasp, pushing his head away.

“that was just my tongue, need to stretch you now,” his lips sucked bruises on your inner thigh, trailing over your hipbone as you let him kiss you over and over.

“are you gonna put your fingers inside me?” you were panting, yet you couldn’t help the twitch between your legs. his lips curled, rubbing his middle and ring finger across your bottom lip.

“i know how much you like sucking them,” he cooes, watching your pulp lips part so obediently. “there’s my good girl,” his praises run straight down as you start to feel lightheaded. tongue lapping and swirling around his digits, it felt so nice having him inside your mouth. you couldn’t help but wonder how it’d feel to suck his dick. the weight in your mouth, his hand petting your head over and over. he was definitely big—

“my virgin baby likes to tease me,” he feels his dick straining in his pants. he replaces his fingers with his lips. his arm wrapping around your waist as your legs crossed behind his back, smiling once he leaned up, letting you sit back in his lap. his fingers ghosting your hole before carefully pushing in. his eyes went bright as he watched your lips part.

“feels good,” you hold his face, wiggling your hips as he pumps his fingers. fuck, she’s so cute!

your nails dig into his shoulder. it was easy moving you around, spreading your legs further to pump another finger inside, cheek flushing deep red as he had you cumming once more. the moans only getting higher and louder as your juices trickled down his hand.

“your pussy’s doing so well for me,” he praises, cupping your pussy, pressing his palm down, before raising it to give it a slap.

“ahh!” your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets as he rubs your pussy some more. his thumb pulls at your bottom lip as you loll your tongue out, letting his tongue glide over.

your lips play with each other, allowing him to nibble and bite at your bottom lip enough to have you shivering and rocking your hips desperately. you’re out of breath as he leaves open mouthed kisses on your burning neck, before sucking another dark bruise.

“can I have it now?” you pant, so blessed out but so desperate for it

“it?” he teases, fingers digging into your ass as he grips your cheeks firmly, pressing you down on his fat bulge, rocking you over him.

“want it,” you bite his ear, holding his hand as you place it on your lower belly. “feels so empty without you,” you’re practically purring. “fill me up, toji.”

fuck!

toji swears under his breath, his pants on the ground and boxers tossed in a random direction as he lets his fat dick slap his tummy. your eyes gloss over at the pretty sight. his angry big cock glistening with his precum as it trickled down the bulging veins on the underside of his girthy length.

“now who’s staring, perv?” your cheeks flush at his words. toji scoops your dripping pussy as he wraps his strong hand around his thick dick as he begins pumping the pulsing ache. “keep yer eyes on me, pretty.”

“toji,” you whine as you shiver at how lewd he looked. face flushed, chest heaving as the tattoos accentuated his well sculpted body. his lips were parted as deep grunts flowed from his pretty lips.

“I’m so hard, fuck, you’re so fucking pretty, babygirl,” his head was tilting up to catch your lips again bringing your hand to his dick. his body shivering as your small soft hands wrapped around him. “good girl,” he cooes in bliss as you follow his movements.

his eyes watch your cute face staring at the way his cock twitches and leaks, hypnotized by the lewd scene. his stomach clenched, getting worked up. “keep looking at me like that and I’ll cum,” he pants, “i like when you stare at me.” you flush at his words.

“it’s big,” you mumble to yourself, lost in a trance you hadn’t noticed your words left your lips until toji drops his head back in laughter.

“need to make you feel all nice and snug, ya?” your thighs clenched around him. “wanna be a big girl and put it inside?” your head nodded immediately.

he helped you sit up, body hovering over his pulsing dick. is it gonna hurt? it’s so big! you want it inside you now! but how? “relax, y/n,” your eyes soften a bit at his call. his cock swiped through your wet folds, teasingly circling your tight entrance, before he held your hip with one hand and the other held your hand between your bodies as you squeezed it tight.

“ah, ‘s big, toji…toji—uh,” your whines were music to his ears, his dick only growing in size as you struggled to take just his tip.

“your pussy is squeezing me baby, relax,” he squeezed your hip in reassurance, only for your nails to dig into his hand as your eyes glossed over, panting heavier.

“it hurts…feels good tho….ah ah i—toji!” your face was pressed into his neck, absolutely stunning the man. did you just?

“I’m barely half way in, pretty” toji’s voice sent aftershocks as you shivered from your unexpected orgasm. “you’ve ever fucked yourself?”

“just played with my clit,” you mutter in embarrassment, averting your gaze.

“fuck me” his heart was beating as his cock pulsed. he was the first to be inside you, his hips jerked up unconsciously.

you whined, wiggling your hips as toji’s body caught on fire as he suddenly lifted you up. your eyes widening as your hands gripped his shoulders, stunned at his crazy strength. “sorry baby, I can’t hold back anymore.”

“huh? to—toji!” your scream pierced the air as he dropped your entire weight down on his dick, snuggling his full length in your warm tight cunt. your eyes rolled back in absolute bliss.

“shit! you’re squeezing me to death,” his body didn’t stop. it seemed like you’d forgotten how he was when he fights. even though the man was just shot and endured minutes of stitching, he had enough stamina to fuck you long and hard.

his cock squelching every time he thrusted. letting your pretty tits bounce in his face as he bit and sucked. the slight red that trickled down to the white cream base that decorated his cock had him going absolutely feral.

“lost your little virginity,” toji groans, you were squeezing him so tight. he’s dreamt of this for so long. squeezing your ass as he fucked up into you, slapping your ass every couple of seconds to hear the way you cry out his name, tears hitting his face.

he’s been dreaming of this. every time he’d stay up late with you, as much as he enjoyed solving your old homework and learning, he couldn’t help his mind from pondering when he’d finish. gazing up briefly to see your cute little face scrunched up in concentration, how much he wanted to bite your cheek, kiss your pouty lips.

“ so good…feel ‘s good, to…ah! uh uh! toji!” your high pitched screams were so beautiful. he didn’t care about the neighbors, or the noise complaints, not a single thing mattered other than wrecking the absolute shit out of the girl he’s been pinning over for months and months. he’s never felt so good inside someone. it was worth the torture of seeing you wearing you’re cute little shorts all the time, your tank tops that couldn’t hold in your tits all the way. the cute way you’d yell and tease him back.

“do you wanna cum for me, princess?”

“I wanna….yes…more please!” you were practically drooling as he let a glob of spit slip past your lips as you immediately came around his length. his cock was as hard as can be, holding your waist as he fell to the carpet floor, blanket falling to the ground as he laid you down, the pillow under your lower back. he pumped his dick between your legs as you panted, only to let out a loud gasp as he snapped his hips back inside.

“good girl, want all your pretty juices,” he praised. “fuck, I can’t live without you! so good, uh pretty girl,” his mind was so empty, the only things keeping him conscious was how much he needed you. his hand pinned both your arms above your head as he pounded into your squelching cunt.

“arch yer back, pretty,” you obey immediately, listening to the fighter as he groaned, feeling himself slide deeper. “atta girl.” your vision blurred the more pleasure toji pulled from you. “pretty girl, ugh, eyes on me,” he lets go of your hands, grabbing your face. “on me.”

your mind was so blissed out, his arms gripping under your knees, as he angled your hips higher, kneeling closer to your body as your ass slapped against his thick thighs, fat cock pounding your insides, kissing your cervix over and over. your arms splayed over your head as your back arched up, nails digging into the blanket underneath.

“taking my dick so well, uh, stretching ya out like a good fucking slut,” his chest was flushed, muscles flexing as your fingers went to pull him closer to you.

“I want more,” your words are slurred, eyes blinking with fat tears as you run your hands through his king raven hair, pulling him down closer as you take one of his pretty hands placing it on your lower belly. “want your cummy…toji…want it all inside me,” his cheeks beat red feeling his fat print bulging in your tummy.

“fuck,” his cock tightened, face scrunching as he felt your legs squeeze him. “don’t—don’t say things like that, baby.” his pace didn’t stop, keeping it rough and fast. the obscene noises only made your thoughts more hazy.

“I want it! ah ahh fill me up! want all of it, please!” your cries rang through the room as the man lost all vision. he wanted so desperately to paint your insides with his hot white cum. what would that feel like? to let go inside your untouched walls, to fill you with every drop of his heavy load—

“shit y/n!” toji bit down on your shoulder, groaning into your skin as you cried loudly, bucking your hips up meeting his thrusts as he cursed. “stop it baby,” he was desperately trying to hold onto his sanity, but you were making it too difficult.

your cries reached another pitch that he’s realized happens before you cum. rolling his hips into your pussy walls, your eyes practically crossed, drool sliding down your lips.

“shit! I’m so lucky,” he cursed, stunned by the shock, only to feel t your pussy clench desperately around him as your body shook, squirting clear liquid onto him.

“wanna be full, cum inside me, toji,” your legs locked around him, stopping him from escaping allowing his body to suddenly convulse. letting out a guttural groan feeling his abs constrict.

his head dropped against your own as he felt himself empty into your tight cunty. you rocked your hips with his as you milked out so much cum from his generous cock.

“so much, pretty boy,” you cooed, petting his hair as he groaned, burying his face in your neck as he continued cumming. he had so much for you, and you’d begged for it so sweetly, he couldn’t leave you empty until you were completely full.

“fuckin minx,” he licked the bite marks that decorated your neck. “take everything I’m giving you,” his chest heaved as he pushed himself up, meeting your lips. “you forced my hand, pretty.”

“kiss me more,” your lips caught his as he returned your sloppy kiss. tongues molding as he shivered, feeling you clench from the overstimulation.

he slowly pulled out, eyes half lidded at the sight of his cum oozing from your twitching hole. he almost passed out, but could only drop to your belly kissing it over and over as he pushed his cum back in. your fingers tangled in his hair, easily grabbing his attention as he crawls back up to you. your arms automatically wrapping around his shoulders, hugging him tightly.

“ya liked getting your pussy all filled up?” toji soothes his hands down your spine as you held him close.

“it was…” the sarcasm and rough exterior immediately fizzled. you felt so good right now. “nice,” you licked your lips, brushing them over his as his eyes fluttered. “don’t leave me, okay?” your sweet voice had toji blinking, before his eyes softened.

“I’ll die before I ever leave you,” he nudged his nose with yours, lips pressing firmly as you hugged him close. “you scared?” he felt your body shaking, suddenly growing worried.

your head shakes, “no….”

“y/n? baby, why’re you crying?” he was worried, his heart squeezing as he tried his best to wipe the falling tears.

“I’m not,” you sniffle, desperately trying to keep your composure, which only had your nose running and your eyes glaze even more. you looked so cute, is all he could think, but why’re you crying?

“you’re only allowed to cry about my big dick,” toji sighs, holding you close as he sits back against the couch on the floor. smiling when you break out into a laugh.

his chest rises and falls, closing his eye to rest his head back. your lips quiver, eyes looking over his tired body. fingers trailing over his tattoos, feather light touches as he begins to fall asleep.

“toji?” your soft voice calls him as you rest your head on his shoulder.

“hmm?” toji’s eyes are still closed, but he squeezes your hip to show that’s he’s listening.

“do you want to go to school?” your words are calm and collected, yet your heart is beating incredibly fast. you want him to get his degree, to pursue something he’s good at. though you’re pretty good at science, toji beats you in math. you didn’t know how he got to certain conclusions, yet it was all accurate.

“I want to be with you,” his words sent a fuzzy feeling inside, but you push it aside.

“seriously.”

“I’m being serious,” he blinks, eyes open. “you’re enough for me…” his words trail off. you’re silent for a moment, it seems like he was going to continue— “but I need to support you some way.” he smiles, pulling you closer. “think I can get my degree?”

your cheek flare as your eyes brighten big, toji flushed at your reaction as you nod excessively, making him laugh.

“cmere,” his hands bring you back to his lips. “I want more, all the time,” he sighs, licking your tongue.

“possessive much,” you try to hide your smile.

“very,” he squeezes you close. almost causing you to pass out until he gets comfortable. “now sleep.” he sighs, “I think I lost all my energy cumming half my existence inside your greedy fuckin cunt.”

“d-don’t say that!” you exclaim.

“It’s funny,” he laughs, tired eyes blinking to stay awake. “but your still leaking.”

you push off him, unable to take all this embarrassment, stumbling to your feet. “I’m gonna shower,” you huff, limping to the bath— “what! what’re you—“ you felt your body loose gravity, suddenly dangling in the air.

“you can’t even walk straight,” toji grunts, holding his side as he had you up in one arm.

“you’re bleeding through the bandages!” you gasp, seeing the blood trickle from the stitches you’d just sown. you struggle to get free.

“stop moving or I’ll open up the stitches.”

“what kind of—?!” you immediately shut up, brows pinched as toji dropped you in the bathroom, holding the sink as he winced. “I thought it wasn’t bad??”

“it wasn’t,” he turns on your shower. “but I couldn’t hold myself back when we were fucking.” he steps in, letting out a deep sigh as the water cascades over his body. the blood, sweat, and other fluids running down his sculpted legs and into the drain.

“we shouldn’t have done anything then—“

“I was too hard, something was gonna happen,” he extended his wet hand out. waiting for you. “cmon, don’t make that face.” your face is scrunched up in guilt and frustration.

“I don’t like seeing you hurt—“

“you said that already,” he grabs your wrist, pulling you inside. you hiss at the sudden water splashing on you.

“you only listen when you feel like it,” you tilt your head up, eyes rolled in annoyance only for toji to grab your cute cheeks and squeeze your face so your lips were jutting out in a cute pout.

“I always listen, so don’t be so worried,” he kisses your cheeks, reaching over for the shampoo. “now let’s clean you up.”

it didn’t fully dawn on you until you were laying under your soft comforter, warm body snugged close against you, face buried in your hair as his large arms held your back close to his chest. his hot breath even. but he was here. turning over, you gazed at his face, snuggling closer to him.

“toji” you whisper softly. It was a high possibility that he was fully knocked out now, but your fingers couldn’t stop caressing his cheek. his black lashes resting on his cheeks as his lips part with each soft breath. “I’ll do my best for you,” your own eyes starting to grow heavy. “so trust me, please.” your lips part to exhale.

“okay,” his lips gently press to your forehead. “I already chose you.”

[absoluteindulgence]

Aftercare with Toji ♡

Headcanons! MDNI

Soft hours <3

Toji always gives you a final slap on your already flushed out ass, almost as if he's finalizing his job well done.

He fumbles to grab his phone off the nightstand, shaking hands opening the camera and positioning your almost lifeless body, taking another flick for his private gallery of only you.

"You okay, baby?" He finally speaks out after he gains back his breath, leaning over you and giving you a kiss on the forehead.

Toji will not let you out of bed after you fuck. "No, no stay still. Just lay there and look real pretty f'me, okay?"

Will definitely run a bath for you on a night when he isn't too tired out. He'll sit behind you, thick fingers previously used to turn you to slush, de-tangling your knotted up hair.

When he is too tired, he still trudges you over to the bathroom, letting you take care of your business before carrying you back to bed.

Loves to make you so fucked out that the only thing you can do is cling to him as he cleans you up.

Dresses you in only his huge, oversized clothes. He had a pair of boxers that you wore once months ago and from then on, they became yours.

One time, he almost cried after you insisted on giving him aftercare, saying, "You took such good care of me, you deserve it." He'd never felt more vulnerable than he did as you wiped the cum off of his body and replaced it with your soft lips and butterfly kisses.

Makes sure to cuddle you to sleep after every rough scene, a silent way of showing how much he loves you, and telling you he didn't mean all the mean things he said.

"Aw baby, look... you're bruising."

If you ever use your safe word, he silently backs away, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. He doesn't talk until you put your arms around his shoulders and assure him that you're okay.

"I'm sorry baby, I really didn't mean to go too far... you know I'd never really hurt you, right?"

Cherishes the silence of when the two of you just lay in the afterglow, feeling each other's bodies with no confines.

Always tells you how proud he is of you as he cleans you up <3

Hope you enjoyed! Xoxo