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strangerstilinski · 1 year

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𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙝𝙤𝙬, 𝙬𝙚'𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary; it’s been a long couple of months, and after a particularly rough night, your ex boyfriend finds his way straight back to you.

warnings; no use of y/n, post s4, exes-to-lovers, description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, emotional sex, unprotected vaginal sex, a lil bit of cockwarming

word count; ~5k

a/n; i meant for this to be a quick little hurt/comfort thing but then my mind kind of ran wild and it turned into.. this. but i think i really like how it turned out sooo, y'know.. leave a comment/tag/reblog if you enjoy!

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝟏𝟖+

You're not entirely certain who you were expecting to find on the other side of your door at two in the morning, and maybe you should've given the possibilities a bit more thought before unlocking the door and swinging it open wide, effectively exposing yourself to whatever may be waiting on the other side — but you don't. And it's with a sleep-slowed brain, a baggy tshirt resting high on your naked thighs, and bare feet that drag lazy across cold floorboards, that you find yourself staring at your ex boyfriend.

Steve Harrington.

He's standing in front of you looking a little nervous, a little lost, and a whole lot like he's just come from some sort of brawl. The sudden brightness of the hallway lights outside of your apartment makes your eyes ache and you're squinting, one hand coming up to block a bit of the light just as your heart drops as you take him in.

His hair is a little longer than when you last saw him, impossible for him to keep from flopping down over his forehead while the ends curl at the nape of his neck, light shining down on the strands and streaking golden through the locks that you'd run your hands through once upon a time. But you're hardly able to process or file away those small changes when your gaze begins frantically to absorb the more important and wildly more alarming details in his appearance.

The light wash of his jeans is covered in splotches of denim slightly darker than the rest where something's been spilled down his leg, streaks of dirt rubbed into the knees like he'd fallen down, and blood — there are crimson drops of it splattered along the fabric at his thigh, likely his, likely from the split lip he's sporting, or perhaps from his bruising nose.. When those red smears crusted beneath his nostrils had been fresh and wet and had clearly dripped down past his chin and onto the collar of his shirt, which also seems to be stained in an array of red-splotched fabric.

“Fuck. Steve, what-” Your voice shakes through the sleepy rasp in your throat, blood roaring in your ears at the familiarity of it all — the scene in front of you sending that achingly familiar trickle of fear and worry and panic all racing down your spine.

“I- Hey, sweetheart.” His own voice cracks a little like his throat's been scraped raw from shouting. He's got his hands tucked away in his back pockets like he might be able to make himself small enough that you won't start yelling, his eyes sad and a little pleading as he gives you a weak smile. He lets out a small hiss of a wince when the motion pulls at the slow drying scab on his lower lip.

“Stevie..” The nickname slips out before you can swallow it down.

You think that you might be in shock, if the adrenaline shooting through your veins is anything to go by. It's making it a little difficult to think clearly as you stumble through the doorway, hands coming into contact with his chest as you brace yourself. Your thumbs find those drops of blood that are still drying into the fabric of his shirt, shaking fingers dragging over the freckles on the side of his throat on their way to his jaw.

You have to fight the instinct to linger on those faded scars encircling his neck, have to fight to push back the memories of the night that things between you had finally fallen apart — when all of Steve's half-truths and secrets and outright lies had finally pushed you to your breaking point. The night of the earthquake. When he'd shown up on your doorstep in the early hours of the morning, just like this, looking like he'd been to hell and back, in search of comfort and someone to patch him up but apparently not looking to give out any explanations for the state he'd come to you in. Not for the marks on his neck, and certainly not for the horrifying chunks of flesh that had been torn from his stomach and sides.

The fear you'd felt that night coils in your gut again. It's the very same fear that you'd endured eight months before the end, when Steve had gone awol for forty-eight hours only to find you the evening of the mall fire. That time, his left eye had been nearly swollen shut, body littered in bruises in varying shades of black and purple. You'd sat with him in the bathtub with your limbs carefully wrapped around him for hours, until the water had gone ice cold, and even after that he'd been glued to your side until morning. You'd both burrowed beneath a pile of blankets despite the summer heat, legs tangled and sweaty bodies clinging to one another. Even though you couldn't begin to understand how the fire could have been the cause of his turmoil, of his injuries, you'd still held him tight, one hand tangled in his damp hair at all times while he'd clutched onto you like you were his lifeline. The hours it had taken for the tremble in his hands to fade had nearly broken your heart.

It's all a little too much, the position that you've suddenly been thrust back into.

“Wh-? What the hell happened?” You question hoarsely.

Why you bother to ask now, you're not entirely sure. You're certainly not expecting him to give you any answers, but as your thumb pushes gently into the swelling softness of his busted lip, the fingers of your opposite hand brushing the hair back from his blood-spattered forehead, Steve sighs.

“It's not.. I was at the bar. Got into a fight.” He admits with another wince as your thumb skates up the bridge of his nose.

“Got into a fight or started a fight?” You ask quietly, eyes flicking slow between his; they're tired and bloodshot, his lashes clumped together like maybe he'd been crying, caramel swirling in the pretty brown depths that you'd been steadfastly avoiding thinking about these last few months.

A huff crackles as he tries to push a sigh from his blood-clogged nose, his hands finally leaving his pockets to hang awkwardly at his sides while he gives a small shrug, “..’was stupid.” He says in lue of a direct answer.

“I'm sure it was,” You grumble under your breath, swallowing your instincts and forcing yourself to take a small step back, your hands falling away so you can hug your arms across your own chest with a sigh, “What're you doing here, Steve?”

“I didn't know where to.. I..” The words don't seem to come and he falters, shrinking in on himself further, “I don't know.” He admits after a moment.

Your eyes close as your emotions threaten to overwhelm you, “I can't-”

“Please,” Steve nearly whispers the word and when you meet his eyes again, his gaze is a little watery, “I know you don't want to see me. I know you're still mad. And.. You have every right to be, okay? But-”

“But what?” You plead weakly, fingers digging a little meanly into your own arms.

“I just..” He struggles for a moment, hands raking through his hair and ruffling it into further disarray, “I just needed.. I..”

The fissure in your heart cracks wide, the slow healing wound tearing open to expose this gaping thing that feels a little like it might be enough to shatter your soul. Even while the more sensible parts of your brain scream at you to shut the door in his face, you find yourself taking his hand in yours, swollen and blood crusted knuckles under your thumb as you pull him into the dark apartment and close the door behind you.

You push him to sit down on the couch, a wordless order for him to stay put implied in the sidelong glance that you shoot him before turning away to move down the hall and grab your first aid kit and a wet cloth from the bathroom. When you return, Steve hasn't moved an inch, just as miserable and small-looking as you'd left him a few moments before. He's got his fingers tucked into the crook of space behind his knees, the tall streetlight across the road allowing stripes of light to cut across his hunched form, late night shadows eating up everything else.

The coffee table is nudged closer to the sofa with your foot as you sit down in front of him, your bare knees brushing filthy denim when you scoot to the edge of the table and bring the cloth up to his blood-spattered cheek. You're gentle with it, wiping at same spots a few times with the lightest pressure you can manage as the mess proceeds to smear, red-tinged streaks of water against his skin lessening with each careful swipe. Once his face is clean, you move on to the knuckles of his right hand, pulling it from where he has it tucked beneath his thigh to softly wash away the crusted blood from his split and bruising skin.

You work silently for a few minutes. The soiled cloth is dropped against the coffee table with a wet slap and you immediately turn to find the alcohol and cotton balls in the messy basket you keep stored beneath your bathroom sink.

You've just begun to open the package of cotton when Steve says your name, nothing more than a hoarse whisper to break the heavy silence.

When you meet his eyes, the desperation you find there has you faltering for a moment. The warmth that seeps into your skin from each point of contact between you suddenly seems so much stronger. Heat and nerves creep up the back of your neck as you blink at him in question.

The backs of his damp knuckles drag up over your calf before pushing into the smooth skin on the outside of your thigh, his thumb pinching lightly at the doughy flesh there, “I.. Can you..” His hand unfurls and he lets his palm settle against you, his fingertips high enough to slip beneath the hem of your oversized shirt and brush the crook where your thigh meets your hip, “I just.. want..”

He seems incapable of finishing his thoughts, but he doesn't really need to because you know. With the way his free hand comes up to push a lock of hair behind your ear, thumb tracing the line of your jaw to your chin before catching against your lower lip in that all too familiar way, you know what it is that he's asking for.

“Steve..” Your accompanying sigh comes out a little shaky as you exhale it over the pad of his finger, your lashes fluttering as something stirs in your gut in response to his soft touch, “I don't think that's a good-”

“Please.” He whispers again — and, how could you possibly deny him when he sounds so pitiful that it wrenches at your broken heart? While his brows are drawing together like he's already bracing himself for your rejection even as his eyes remain soft and pleading?

And when the hand on your thigh pushes up to slide over the bare skin at the base of your spine, when he applies the barest pressure to urge you toward him, when the fingers on your face slip behind your neck — you're climbing into his lap with little encouragement. Your shins push into the couch cushions on either side of his thighs, hands finding the hem of his ruined shirt and guiding it up over his head in an easy movement that has his hair flopping down over his forehead again.

When your gaze drops, you allow yourself all of ten seconds to trail your fingers over the rough scars across his abdomen. The skin is a little puckered and pink, mottled in a way that it probably wouldn't be if he'd found himself at the hospital that night in late March instead of on your doorstep, but they've healed. It's a far cry from the jagged wounds that you'd tried to clean with blood-stained hands, through quiet sobs and glassy eyes. They'd been so deep, as if something had tried to carve out little bits and pieces of him over and over, like something had torn into him, like something had feasted on his flesh then and left behind nothing but the evidence of small, frighteningly sharp teeth.

Your choked questions ring in your ears even now, the way you'd begged for him to tell you what was going on, who kept hurting him like this — but as easily as your own voice echos in your memories, so does Steve's. You can still hear his agonized groans and cries of pain as you'd tended to his injuries, can still remember the sound of his desperate pleas for you to drop it, to just accept that he couldn't explain-

And you'd asked him then, if it was that he couldn't or that he wouldn't. The resulting silence from him had been answer enough.

Now, Steve seems to know exactly where your mind has gone and he covers your hands with his own, pressing your palms flat against the lingering marks on his skin.

“They're healed.” You state quietly through the emotion clogging your throat. The obviousness of the statement rings stupidly in your ears but you're not sure what else to say in the heavy silence.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, voice hoarse, “I had a pretty good nurse.. Cleaned me up real nice so that I didn't, I dunno, die from an infection or somethin'.”

A laugh pushes up from your throat that borders on a sob, “She sounds cool.” You manage, your thumbnail scraping lightly into the healed patch of skin under your hand.

“Oh, yeah, the coolest.” Steve tells you with the barest hint of a smile pulling at the unbruised side of his mouth. “You okay?” He asks quietly after another moment of silence.

“Yeah. Yeah, 'm fine.” You tell him with a shake of your head.

“Sweetheart..” Steve starts slowly, “I want.. Shit, I- I want you so bad right now, but if you don't want this-” When his hands move to the hem of your sleep shirt, his eyes meet yours in silent question, and your head is nodding a little wildly in approval before you can begin to think too hard about it.

His hands nearly burn with every brush against your bare skin as you strip one another down to nothing, his touch leaving behind invisible streaks of something heavy and terrifyingly melancholy, something that you're sure will linger painfully in your chest long after he's gone and left you with a broken heart and an ever growing list of unanswered questions.

“I still have to clean your cuts.” You tell him quietly.

Steve's eyes only rake over your naked body for a moment before his gaze settles back on yours, “Okay.”

You settle over his lap again and wet a cotton ball with alcohol, “It's gonna hurt.” You warn in a whisper.

“I know.” Steve returns just as softly.

Bracing one hand on the side of his neck, you dab featherlight over his split lip. Steve's jaw clenches at the sting as it seeps into the cut and you murmur a soft apology while you continue to clean the area with careful fingers.

Steve's hands settle on your hips and his eyes flick between yours as he waits for you to meet his gaze. When you look up from his swollen lower lip, he gulps, adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

“Is this okay?” He asks, fingers digging into your flesh a little as he pulls your hips until your groins align nicely.

“Yeah.” You murmur, dabbing at the cut on his lip again just so that you have an excuse to look away from his eyes.

Your heartbeat ricochets against your ribs sharply as Steve guides you to grind slow over his lap, the warmth of him wedged between your spread folds. The way he manhandles you isn't rushed, the movement not nearly as desperate as you'd been expecting from his plea for intimacy. It's slow and quiet and filled with a weight that you wouldn't quite be able to explain if you tried.

It doesn't take long for his cock fatten up and grow stiff underneath you, his length and the patch of hair surrounding it both streaked with slick where your wet cunt has been dragging back and forth. You're both breathing a little heavy as you finish cleaning the cuts on his lip and the bridge of his nose, your faces close though neither one of you make any move to close the distance.

Steve curls an arm around the back of your thigh as he reaches around to guide himself toward your entrance. A breathy sound falls from your lips when you roll your hips back and feel his tip catch, just barely pushing in. He's as thick and warm and perfect as he's always been, and that hunger to have all of him spreads down the back of your tongue like warm honey, but the moment you spread your thighs a little farther to take more, Steve is stopping you.

“Wait, wait, wait. You.. Are you sure you're okay with this?” He asks suddenly. His fingers are digging into your hips, holding you in place to keep you from sinking farther down onto him as he awaits your response.

“Wh-?” Your jaw trembles with something like petulance, a little desperate yourself now that you can feel the fat head of his cock inside you, stretching you wide despite barely breaching your entrance, “You said that you-”

“I do. Fuck, I do, I just want to make sure you're sure.” He says it so soft, so earnest, and his concern has you feeling something resembling whiplash. The two of you haven't spoken in months, but he'd shown up at your front door in the middle of the night and practically begged for you; for your presence and your care and your body.

You want to feel angry with him. For looking out for your well-being now, for being Steve, for bringing up so many feelings that you'd tried so hard to bury, but he's looking up at you with imploring eyes — a gaze that says if you climbed off of his lap now, he wouldn't be upset with you, if anything, he'd be upset with himself and..

It has you reeling a little bit, that blooming affection crawling like rapidly expanding ivy inside your chest.

You brush that stubborn chunk of hair back and off of his forehead again, your fingers combing through to the back of his head until they can toy with the bits curling at the nape of his neck. Your mouth finds its way to the space between his brows, a shaky exhale masked by the kiss you press to his skin before dropping your foreheads together.

“I am. I'm sure.” You promise in a whisper.

When you sink down, both of you groan in synchrony, breathy and guttural. The stretch hurts more than you were expecting, but it's been months since you've done this, so you suppose that the sting from him filling you up is warranted. Your hips settle against his and his arms curl around your back to hold you in place, to hold you close. His chest is flush to yours, scattered hairs on his pecs pressed to your breasts, the tip of your nose still barely avoiding brushing against the bruised bridge of his own.

The sensation of being so full leaves you feeling a little overwhelmed, the intimacy of the moment suddenly too heavy. His breath mingling with your own and his soft hair tangled up around your fingers brings pinpricks of heat to your eyes that you stubbornly attempt to blink back.

“Hey.. Hey, honey,” Steve murmurs softly, one hand coming up to swipe a thumb along your watery lashline, “What's wrong? You okay? You hurting?”

Another strangled sounding scoff of a laugh tumbles from your lips, a weak sniffle as your fingers find their way to those smooth, faded lines along the front of his throat again, “I should be asking you that. You're the one who's had the shit beaten out of him tonight.”

“I'm fine. Two weeks n' I'll be good as new,” Steve assures you with carefully crafted nonchalance, his tear-stained thumb dragging back and forth along the apple of your cheek, “Now what's goin' on in that beautiful head of yours, huh?”

“I just..” You huff out a sigh, rolling your hips experimentally to test the ache between your thighs, “I missed you. Fuck, I- I miss you so much, Steve.”

A few tears do manage to break through then, something about the way the patchy light coming in through the windows casts a glow over his battered face, the browns in his eyes shining golden in the dark.

“Me too, I miss you too,” He rasps desperately, “Shit, honey. If you think I don't miss you every goddamn second- You're everything. You're my everything.”

He's holding your face in both hands now, palms cradling your jaw so gently, arms trembling like he's trying to fight the urge to hold onto you tighter. His restraint and his words twist sharply in your gut, something akin to dread weaving its way inside of you.

“I'm scared,” You admit, voice quiet and buried beneath tears, “I'm so scared-”

“Scared?” Steve repeats, concern flashing in his eyes, “What're you afraid of?”

“Losing you.” You gasp.

“Sweetheart-”

Your chest is heaving a little with the labored breaths beginning to tumble past your lips, “I'm gonna lose you all over again, because I can't.. It- It is terrifying. To see you hurt and bleeding and not know why. To worry that the next time might be even worse than the last and have you keep skirting around the truth or outright lying-”

“Hey, hey. Honey, hey,” Steve gives your cheeks a soft shake under his hands and your gaze falls back to his, “I'm sorry-”

“Jesus christ.” You bemoan quietly as another tear falls, halfheartedly pushing at his arms to dislodge his hands.

“No, no, I mean it,” Steve pleads softly, “I'm so sorry I kept you in the dark, I just- Shit, it's so complicated, I-”

“Asshole.” The interruption comes out a grumble under your breath, and you're gearing up to climb off of his lap entirely when his weak chuckle meets your ears.

“I am,” He nods, brushing your hair back from your tear streaked face, “I'm an asshole and I'm sorry. I- I'll tell you everything, alright? I will. I will.”

“Promise?” You hate yourself for how small you sound, how unsure and broken.

“I promise.”

You crane your neck and tilt your head to brush your lips featherlight over his, carefully avoiding putting any pressure on the mess of purple and black and red along the bridge of his nose, your thumbs gravitating yet again to drag over those smooth, barely visible scars around his neck.

“Does your mouth hurt too much, or can I-?” You ask quietly, eyes flicking between his.

“'course you can,” His hand pushes into your hair behind your ear, cupping your head to guide you forward carefully, “C'mere.”

Your mouths come together with all of the gentleness you can manage and you leave one soft peck, then two, then three. You begin to work your hips over his all the while, and neither of you can hold back a keening noise of pleasure at the slow drag of his cock inside your warm walls.

You ease back from his mouth to drag the pads of your index and middle finger lightly over the bruises coloring his skin.

“Did.. Did you really get into a bar fight?” You can't help but ask, even as you're lifting up and dropping back down hard enough to have you both letting out a breathy whimper.

“Yeah,” Steve nods, his fingers trailing along your ribs and stomach like he's trying to re-familiarize himself with every inch of your skin, “I.. It's possible I have some unresolved anger or something from- After everything that happened. Sometimes it kinda takes over, like tonight, and then I pick a fight I know I can't win, but.. 'm not lying to you anymore. I mean that.”

You nod and his arms curl around your back to pull you impossibly closer. Trapped in his embrace, you can't do much more than grind on him with slow swivels of your hips, the head of his cock rubbing at that spot on your inner wall that has your brows pulling together in pleasure.

He's so close like this. His chest hair drags against your bare breasts and your tummies are pressed together and the sweat on his forehead mingles with your own. You feel warm — in the physical sense, yes, but also in your stomach, in your bones, in your heart.

“I love you.” Steve says with emotion, like he's feels that warmth too.

Your eyes prickle a little traitorously, fingers toying with the soft ends of his hair, “I love you,” You manage in a choked gasp, “I love you.”

“Ho- Shit..” Steve groans, chin tipping up toward the ceiling for a moment as he throws his head back, “You feel so fuckin' good, honey.”

“Y'r cock feels good,” You pant in response, “So good. So big. I- Fuck.”

“So tight,” He mutters, sitting up a little straighter to meet every roll of your hips, “So perfect. 's like you were fucking made for me, you know that? Take me so well. You were made for this, for me-”

The way that your clit is rubbing against the thatch of hair on his pelvis has you a little dumb already, and his lust-fueled rambling only intensifies your budding orgasm, both of your thighs slick with how fucking good it feels to have him inside of you again. You nod in agreement to his words and manage to give a small whimper, but it seems that he's not done yet.

“-Missed this so much. Missed you, missed this.. Fuck. Honey, I love you. I love you. I-”

“Steve,” You whine, “Love you too.”

His tanned cheeks have gone a little pink beneath the dusting of bruises on his face, breathy groans fanning out past his busted lip. The pretty little noises of pleasure that he can't seem to hold back have you reeling, your gut twisting with heat at the sight of him, the sound of him.

“So goddamn wet for me, honey,” Steve grumbles, his voice catching in a way that has your cunt clenching down on him, “Listen to her. You hear that?”

You do. There's a lewd squelch emitting from the place where you're joined, the sound filling the otherwise quiet apartment every time that your hips roll at just the right angle. It happens again just then, his cock stretching your hole wide enough for the drag of slick and air to create a mildly embarrassing noise that has Steve giving another needy groan, his hips bucking up into yours.

“God, fuck, please tell me you're getting close,” He nearly whimpers, lifting up off of the couch to drive up into you again, “Please, I'm getting so close, babe. Need you to come.”

Euphoria licks up your spine in a white-hot flame, your weight bearing down that much harder to apply more pressure on your puffy clit. Sweat trickles down your spine, disappearing beneath Steve's forearms where they're looped tight around you.

“Mhm,” You hum, the sound catching in the back of your throat, “M'gonna come, Stevie. Y'r gonna make me come.”

Your hips roll a little faster and Steve continues to buck up into you, his cock pressing so, so nicely against the spot that has your brain whiting out a bit at the edges.

“Come on, sweet girl. Come for me,” Steve moans, warm breath fanning out over your lips, “Please, honey. Please come on my cock. Shit, I need it. Need you t' come, please.”

“I am, I am, I am,” You babble desperately, “M'gonna, fuck, fuck, 'm-”

The knot of pleasure in your gut twists sharply and you cry out, face burying in his neck with a whiny gasp as your orgasm crashes over you. Your cunt tightens and trembles around him and a deliciously choked sounding moan tears past Steve's lips as he finally lets his own release wash over him.

The warmth of his come coating your insides has you fluttering around him further, your hands grappling restlessly for any part of him to hold on to, his hair, the back of his neck, his shoulders, his biceps. Breathy little whines and gasps and groans tumble from both of you as you ride it out, the trembling tenseness in your muscles releasing all at once as you go limp in his arms.

It takes a minute, but you eventually come back to yourself a little, peppering a delicate kiss to that infuriating strip of scar tissue along his throat before you're pushing up with weak limbs to look at the man underneath you.

“Hey.” It comes out in a murmur, a breathless little thing that leaves you feeling kind of silly, but your brain hasn't yet recovered enough to work at its full-capacity.

Steve only grins, his lips curling to reveal perfect teeth, a pretty smile pulling at his busted and bruising lips. His eyes twinkle in the patchy darkness of your living room, a pretty mosaic of brown and gold and speckles of green catching in the light and forcing your heart rate to tick up in adoration.

“Hey, honey.” He returns sweetly, one arm uplooping from around your spine so he can reach up to push the sweaty flyaways back from your face.

You can't help but shift over him, sore legs flexing where they're spread over his hairy thighs, a trickle of warmth leaking out from where you're still joined and dripping down into the thick hair at the base of his cock. It feels dirty and intimate in the best way — his come mingled with your own, your fingers in his sweat-dampened hair, his wide palms rubbing softly from your hips to your spine and then back again.

“I kinda want to stay like this forever.”

Your whispered admission has his eyes crinkling softly and he drops his forehead to your chest, his breath fanning out over your breasts as he lets out a breathy chuckle.

“You won't hear any complaints from me.” Steve mumbles into your skin.

You never want to leave this moment. Your nose pushes into his hair and you pull in the familiar melding of scents, of expensive shampoo and hairspray and an underlying smell that's just Steve. You want to stay right here, in this perfectly imperfect bubble, but you feel Steve wince when he burrows his face into your chest just a little too hard and the serenity cracks.

“Steve?” You murmur softly, fingertips scraping gently against his scalp despite the nerves in your stomach.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

You steel yourself with a deep breath, “You know I'd do anything to protect you, right? You.. You know that I'll do anything for you.. Know that.. That you can trust me?” It comes out in a rush, and your nerves increase tenfold when Steve pulls back to look at you, “..Right?”

“Honey,” The endearment comes out laced with something sweet and sticky that makes it sound an awful lot like an apology, “Of course I do.”

His eyes are so soft as they flick between your own, his hands smoothing up the length of your spine in a soothing drag of skin on skin. One hand leaves his hair only so that you can trace your thumb over those two wide freckles on the apple of his cheek, a self-deprecating sort of smile pulling at your lips.

“And.. And you're gonna tell me what's been going on with you?” You nearly whisper.

His mouth finds yours to press a featherlight kiss to your lips, “Yeah, honey. No more secrets. No more lies.”

“Promise?” You ask again, lips pulling into a smile where they're still brushing his own. Your faces are so close it's hard to focus on the way his eyes shine with adoration when he looks up at you, the bruises on the bridge of his nose blurring in the darkness.

“Promise.”

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mggsv · 8 months

Text

BABY DADDY .ᐟ

f!reader x toji fushiguro (18+)

summary : “Fuck you Toji!” “Fuck me..? FUCK YOU.” God you hated him so much.

warnings : toji calls reader a bitch and finds out, slapping, reader cries, sex while pregnant, slight angst, a cute little fic

“..It should be “Thank you, Toji. Oh i just love you so much.”

He looks at your angry face, scar rising as he couldn’t hold back the cocky smirk. His eyes trail down to your little round belly, four months swollen. “Thank you? Thank you? I’m fuckin pregnant dumbass!”

“Nothing wrong with ya carryin my seed. You can take a break from work for 9 months. Calm the fuck down.” He grumbles, grabbing a cigarette from his pocket. “Calm down? I can’t just take months off- I model dumbass.”

“And you modeled for me one day and look what happened, I knocked you up.” Not to mention the engagement ring you wore. You’ve been together for almost three years he’s head over heels for you. “Calm the hell down.” He’s reaching over to pat you on your head. “Gonna give ‘Gumi the crazies.”

“No- you don’t understand. I don’t wanna become a housewife-“

“I wanna still be the model I was- no—you don’t get it Toji you’re a man— baby. We have this chat once a month.” He quotes you almost perfectly. Smoke leaving his lips. “Quit yr’ bitchin-“ SLAP !the sound loud ringing in your ears, hand colliding with his face faster than you’ve ever moved before.

“Fuck you Toji!”

“Fuck me..? FUCK YOU.” God you hated him so much. Your eyes watered, but you were a strong little thing. That’s what Toji liked about you..one of many things. Like how when you first met he was just a guy in the crowd watching you strut down the aisle, smirk on his face as he sketched in a notepad. An artist he wanted to be..you learned that after getting to know him. Your eyes glance over to the notepad page, framed on your wall but showing signs of age.

You also thought of what he actually was..the son of your boss. He didn’t have much money when you met, looks could always fool you..so sweet you were. That didn’t bother you much though. It wasn’t his fault his father blocked his success. His art, your love. You watch as Toji puts out the cigarette, cursing to himself as he started to walk away from you.

“Wh- don’t walk away from me we’re not done.” You follow him. He sighs, rubbing his forehead. “Yes we are.”

“No we’re not-“

“I’m not gonna keep doing this every month. We had time to..we decided to keep the baby and now you’re complaining about the damn kid!” He turns to you, blue eyes staring sadly at your brown ones. Instinctively reaching down to graze your cheek. “I know you don’t like it mama..” he murmurs. You sniffle softly, leaning into the touch you fell in love with. Your eyes close as he felt closer. His lips grazing over your chin and neck. Toji’s hands wrapped around your body.

He held you both. “It’s your fault.” you sob into his embrace. He couldn’t hold back the small smile littering his lips. “Takes two ta tango?” he wipes your eyes, kissing the tears away. “Mhm..” you found yourself sniffling. He rubbed over your swollen belly. “Gumi be nice to mama alright? Stressin’ her out.” He whispers to the baby.

“M’sorry..” He whispers again, his strong hands guiding you into his body. “How could I be so bad? Getting such a perfect little thing knocked up..filled up with my baby. How could I have done such a thing..” He coos.

He leans up to kiss your lips, thumb swiping at the fallen tears. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, y’know?” Toji stands up straight, bringing your body into his. He rubbed your back while you cried softly into his chest, how you wrapped your arms around the love of your life…he was everything. He knew you meant no harm, he also knew to watch his mouth but still failed. “You’re going to be perfect- we’re gonna be a perfect lil family okay?”

“Cmere mama..” He had you trapped. You loved him too fucking much to let go.

“Be gentle.” You had huffed. “Damnit I am- shut up.” He had huffed back, playful smile on his lips while the thick head of his cock slipping between your folds. Toji held back while you were pregnant- he had no choice- being the rough guy that he was. It’s how you go here in the first place, hell. The scar on his lips danced as he moaned softly, bottoming out. He didn’t go in all the way, though. His tongue lapped at your growing breast. Nipples being flicked by his tongue, hips still.

“Missed this..” you close your eyes, breathing softly while he started to move. His hands were on either side of your head, tightly fisted the sheets. You could tell he was doing his best not to pound you. “Mm..” Your head relaxes on the big pillow beneath your head. Toji’s face tucks into your neck, cock slipping out past your ring. He was a mess. The cum that leaked should be a crime. You’d tease him about it later. He slips back in just as easily, biting down gently on your neck. “Gonna take care of you, alright?” He mumbles.

“Yeah yeah.”

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thefoxtherapist · 4 months

Note

hiii! i saw you were taking requests for wuwa and was wondering if you could write general cuddling headcanons or scenarios for jiyan, calcharo, scar (idk if he’s a cuddle type guy lol), and/or any other characters of your choosing. can have already established relationships

tysm 💜👾

Thank you for the request! I hope you like it! I'm still learning the characters so go easy on me o7

-Scar actually strikes me as somebody overly clingy if given the opportunity. If his schedule allows for it, there's almost nowhere else he'd rather be.

-He's pretty brash about his wants and needs, he doesn't hesitate to take what he wants. And yet, his approach to relationships and intimacy differs from this. If his storytelling is to be believed, I think he'd be hesitant.

-But the moment you open your arms when he comes home? Scar's arms are around your waist in seconds. Always a bit too tight, face buried against you in one way or another. It can be bruising at times, or the complete flipside of far too gentle.

-With Scar its rarely big spoon/little spoon. He prefers when you're laying on your back, either on the bed or the couch. He likes to lay partially on top of you, his face buried in your neck, body half on top of yours like a protective shield. Your arms around him, holding him tightly.

-If he can't breathe because he refuses to remove his face from your neck or hair, then he's cuddling correctly!

-You know those memes that are like (brooding edgy guy) "and what were you up to-" "killing..." "we were cuddling." YOU CAN'T DO THAT WITH HIM! Scar will PROUDLY announce everything you two were doing. IN DETAIL.

-He's a proud man. And you've eaten his hair. Ultimately, 7/10.

-Jiyan gonna hit you with "I'm too busy right now, I'll make it up to you." then never make it up to you. The weight of the world is on his shoulders and to some degree he put it there himself.

-You gotta drag his green ass into bed, I'm sorry. But once he's in bed, he will stay there. The thing about cuddling with Jiyan is that it isn't just cuddling? It's also nap time. He's tired, he's overexerting himself, he's fighting a bazillion internal and external wars.

-He likes being the big spoon (you slept on his hair accidentally ONE TIME). Jiyan is a bit tense as his arm wraps around you, his other arm under the pillow. At first his chin will rest against your head, he'll sorta look over you.

-Eventually though he'll relax, his chest will loosen, his grip will loosen, and his face will drop into the top of your head. His breathing gets quieter, calmer. Every time he breathes out a lil hard, there's a gentle breeze that rustles the sheets. But it keeps the temperature perfect.

-It is at this point you could turn in his arm if you want to, bury your face into his chest. Jiyan is fast asleep and happy to hold you as he finally gets some rest with his lover. He's a bit of a snorer though, sorry.

-3/10 on a normal day, but once you get him into the freaking bed, he's so comfortable to nap with and snuggle so 9/10 once hes in there. Good luck though.

-So the edgy brooding guy I mentioned in Scar's section, that is Calcharo. Most of the people who work for him, or even know him, don't even know he has a partner. This is to keep you safe.

-But because of this, physical intimacy is often put aside for safety. He isn't a fan of it, I doubt you're a fan of it. But Calcharo puts those he looks out for pretty high up on his priority list.

-You have a secret knock. And when he knocks in that secret way, he's quick to push by you and into your home. He's quick to check all the locks before he even says hello.

-But his hello is picking you up and bringing you to the nearest soft surface. Your back hitting the couch cushions, him still holding your thighs as he pretty much lays on top of you at a bit of an awkward angle.

-Calcharo tends to kiss and cuddle, it isn't just a relaxing snuggle, he wants to get his kisses in too. Each one gentle, almost tired, as he peppers your face in small kisses. He's a bit like, yes I am saying this to be silly, a puppy.

-If you don't push him off and get him outta his gear, he will sleep like this. Look at that man, he's tired. But the second you push on his shoulder, he's off of you. Very respectful man, my beloved. But he'll follow you to your bedroom, dropping gear on his way. His weapon beside your bed.

-8/10. He's back to giving you kisses and he hasn't undone his boots yet.

#Wuthering Waves x reader #wuwa x reader #Jiyan x reader #Calcharo x reader #Scar x reader #༻Stygian #༻Tenebris #༻Decree of 👾#can you tell which sections i've finished / what 5* i have by the length of these? lol..

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darlingwriter · 4 months

Note

💫🎀 with Ghost? Like he gets all tipsy and lovey. I honestly see this man as a lovesick puppy once you give him a lil bit of attention

Also if you’re keeping track of anons can I be 🧃anon?

a/n: okay first of all you're absolutely correct and you should say it. secondly, i've never had to track anons before and i'm actually so honoured! you can totally be 🧃 anon! 💗

fic: gn!reader x simon "ghost" riley tags: fluff warnings: none wordcount: under 1k

Strictly speaking, you and Simon really aren’t supposed to be sharing quarters. You’re definitely violating at least a dozen regulations by spending almost every night in his bed. Then again, not many people are willing to argue with a six-foot-three man in a skull mask, so strictly speaking has never really been an issue.

No, the only issue is that it’s almost ten and he’s not back from drinks with Soap and Gaz yet and you’re deeply regretting not going with him because, as it turns out, hanging out in this apartment all by yourself is, big surprise, actually pretty fucking boring.

It feels like a millennium passes by in the confines of the white walls before you at last hear a familiar knock at the door.

Setting down your book, you unfold yourself from the nest of blankets and pillows on the couch, already mourning the loss of warmth as you shuffle across a cold hardwood floor to let the lieutenant in, one quilt still wrapped loosely around your shoulders, trailing behind you as you reach for the latch.

Simon’s pulling you into a hug almost the second you open the door, burying a fabric-covered face against your hair.

“You’re late,” you mumble into his chest, in an unsuccessful attempt to sound scolding.

“I know, ‘m sorry, lovely, cab took fuckin’ forever.” He shoves the door shut behind him. Leans back against it. “Ended up standin’ in the rain for ‘bout an hour.” He strips off a damp jacket. Pulls off his mask, revealing stubble and scars and a smile. “Missed you th’ whole time.”

“Sappy bastard.”

“Mmph.” The scent of bourbon whiskey still lingers on his skin, warm and a little smokey. He wraps the blanket — which has been slowly slipping off over the course of the exchange — back around you. “You like it.” You scoff and roll your eyes, and he cups your face with his hands and grins. “You’re cute.”

“You’re drunk,” you protest through squished cheeks.

“M’right, though.” He chuckles. Pulls you close again. Sinks down onto the couch, and you’re pulled down with him, his thick arms wrapped around you protectively as he rests his chin atop your head.

“Simon.”

“Lovely.”

“Breathing.”

“Not important,” he murmurs.

You sigh in defeat. Melt into the embrace. “You’re warm.” The words are muffled against his neck. Simon hums in acknowledgement. Presses a soft kiss against your temple.

“You too, lovely.”

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danikamariewrites · 2 months

Text

Little Dove

Azriel x reader

Notes: Sorry I’ve been MIA for a while. I just had no motivation to write or do anything but read and be by myself really. It’s been an odd month and I’m trying to get into a routine. So until I get back to writing fully here’s a lil Azriel blurb for y’all🤗 @sweetorangeblossom this is for u babes 💕

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, ddlg, sexually suggestive

Azriel’s head snapped to the dance floor, the sound of your melodic giggle floating to him as you and Mor trip over each other, making his heart flutter. The mating bond in his chest going wild with a flurry of emotions ranging from excitement to the need to have him close to you.

You notice Azriel staring, a wide grin breaking out on your lips. Mor pushes you toward him, cutting through the crowd. You stumble into his chest, Azriel’s muscular arms gently wrap around you, steadying you. His touch sends a wave of calm through your body. The bond lightly humming in your chest at the warm familiarity of being held by your mate. Your Azriel.

Settling against his body you prop your chin on his chest. Batting your lashes up at him with doe eyes, your gaze clouded by all the alcohol you’ve consumed tonight.

Azriel smiles down at you, his own gaze full of unending love for you. He brings a scarred hand up to brush loose hair behind your ear.

You giggle at Azriel’s tenderness. Pushing your face back into the softness of his dark tunic. “Hi little dove.” Azriel’s deep sultry voice sends a shiver down your spine.

You look back up at him, cheeks a light shade of pink from a shyness you get around Azriel when you’re tipsy. “Are you ready to go, dove? I think you’ve had enough tonight.” He teases.

A small hum sounds from your throat, “Yes,daddy.”

Azriel’s eyes widened in shock. His heart stuttered in his chest. Did you know what you just called him? Could you feel his heart rate pick up though the bond? Did you know how badly he wanted you to say it again?

That sweet giggle falls from your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck, putting all your weight on him as you sway back and forth. “What did you say?” He asks carefully, giving you a chance to correct yourself if you want to. Azriel knows your limits when you’re tipsy and when you’re drunk. And you know what you said.

Azriel stills in anticipation of your answer. You playfully roll your eyes thinking he’s not listening to you.

“I’m ready to go, daddy. I wanna go to bed with you.”

Azriel loosens a breath. Holding you closer to his body Azriel presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Let’s get you to bed, little dove.” Azriel pulls you out of Rita’s flying you home faster than he ever has before.

Azriel helps you get ready for bed, pampering you more than normal. You smirk to yourself as he pulls one of his undershirts over your head. You knew what you were doing. Happy that you finally had the courage to go for what you wanted with your mate.

Laying under the covers Azriel pulls you to lay on top of him. You press small kisses along his jaw and down his neck, resting your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes. “G’night daddy, I love you.” You whisper.

“Night little dove. I love you more.” Azriel coos, lightly squeezing you against his chest. “Dove,” he adds before you drift off, “we’re not leaving this bed tomorrow.”

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #acotar fanfic #acotar fic #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #azriel

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thecoochiefairy · 5 months

Text

𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖔𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖊𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖞

━━ 𝑜𝑢𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑒𝑠 .ᐟ toji.

warnings 𑄽𑄺 12k word count. boxer toji, third person omniscient pov, black woman, vaginal penetration, angry sex, rough, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, daddy kink, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, a lil degrading?, fingering, condomless sex, kissing, spanking, aggressive toji, lil bit of sweet toji, physical violence, talks of body image issues, minors aren’t welcome!

song to play while listening; 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑒 ; 𝑙𝑖𝑙 𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑛𝑒

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ if you didn’t see it already, there is a trigger warning for talks of body/self image issues! i’m a girlie that deals with a lot of that, so this was a bit heartfelt for me. this is dedicated to any of my girls/gay’s/they’s that feel down about themselves! you’re all perfect 🫶🏽love your body + your body will love you back! enjoy!

OF COURSE SHE FUCKING WOULD.

Blood drips down his chin, eyes shooting over at the mirror as his scar is now reopened, ripping between his bottom and top lip. His anger seeped through his face in a way it’d never shown before, staring back at the woman he’d kill for. They had their ups and downs—this definitely had to be their worst fight.

Their now five year relationship blossomed in an uncanny place—The gym, an environment where people didn’t expect to be approached or distracted from their routine. He didn’t mean to bother her, he just couldn’t help it.

She stood at the Smith’s machine, blowing out a breath as she gripped the bar that looked to hold a weight of forty-five on each side. He watched her. Her skin is a warm toffee complexion, scrunchie holding her onyx curls, tendrils falling around her face that’s painted with thousands of freckles. Full dark eyebrows furrow lowly, baby pink lips sinking under her bone straight teeth. Her brown eyes stare out of focus, long lashes curling atop of her pupils. She was mesmerizing.

She was more curvy than the women he usually went for. Even from under the sweater she wore, her full breast, large hips and pudgy stomach, her ass— god, he couldn’t get enough of her, and he didn’t even know this woman’s name. She seems frustrated. She twists her body under the bar as she squats, taking a deep breath as she goes to lift it up, her arms trembling. It causes her to quickly drop the bar back in place, a roll coming to her eyes.

“It’s better to train muscles when they’re at failure,” Is the first thing he says to her.

Her eyes follow up to him. She nearly trips over the bench beneath the machine as she takes in this man. He stands in front of her, long sleeve black compression shirt pulled at his elbows that showcase a couple of tattoos on his muscular arms. His dark hair falls along his eyebrows as it seems he’d been sweating. Scarily handsome features, strong jaw, deep eyes with a confident aura she wasn’t used to. This man was fine, holy fuck, she thought.

“Excuse me?” She stutters.

“I’m tryna’ be a boxer, so I have to sustain muscle in order to stay in my weight class. Fatigue means muscle activation. So… say you’re doing a set of ten squats, by the fourth or fifth squat you’re tired as fuck,” he talks, her eyes only blinking in response, “Any squat after that is typically the ones that are increasing your muscles.”

Her eyebrows only raise. He then chuckles as he places his hand behind his neck, “My fault, I just…needed a reason to come talk to you.”

“To me?” She questions, her lashes falling over her cheeks.

“You, doll,” He chuckles, her eyes falling to the silver ball along his tongue as his mouth slightly opens. She wants to gulp.

“What’s your name?” He then asks.

She crosses her arms over her chest as she asks, “Why you’ wanna know? You tryna’ get in my pants or something?”

That makes him laugh. He shakes his head as he speaks, “Five minutes of talking to you and your ass is already being stubborn. That's cool, I like that.”

“It’s Sonali,” she then replies, “Pronounced Sah—nah—lee, not So—nah—lee, I hate when people say my name wrong.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I wanna say your name a thousand times.”

“Damn. You don’t hold back, do you?” She tilts her head.

“I want you,” he states flatly.

“You’ manifesting that or something?”

“It’s a fuckin’ promise.”

And it was. She never had a man so affectionate, thoughtful—good as fuck in bed— it was the first time she’d experienced an authentic love. She could admit, the first two years were rough. Mostly from her own overthinking. Anytime they were out in public and the eyes of other women fell upon him, she gripped herself tighter around his arm. She didn’t want to be the jealous type, but as these girls continued to throw themselves at him, it was like she didn’t exist. Was she not good enough? Pretty enough? Skinny enough?

She eyed every single person in the gym. Everyone's body was different, but the ones that got the most attention were the standard preference of beauty nowadays. Slim, able to go into a store and fit a piece of clothing in the first try. No problems in the world. Call her dramatic, call her apathetic of even the “perfect” people’s issues. Maybe if she was perfect, she’d have less problems than her own.

There were so many times Toji caught her staring at herself in the mirror, noticing she would turn away from it when she undressed. As many times as he’d purposely fucked her in front of it, nothing changed. But he knew that it wasn’t his call to make her confident within herself. He just wished she knew how perfect she was.

He could feel himself straying away from Sonali, a particular type of anger building within her body that only increased the closer he tried to get to her. Anytime a woman tried to talk to him, she was mad. When he suggested that she wear more clothes that didn’t dishevel her figure, she was even more mad. He didn’t understand what he was doing wrong, only wanting her to feel as beautiful as she was. Nothing worked. Yet through all of it, he was always so patient with her, never becoming angry or ever raising his voice to her. Sonali’s own self destruction almost caused them to break up—and then, her father had passed away.

Sonali’s life had fallen apart. It was just as tough for Toji, coming to learn that her father owned a boxing gym in the city, sparring and bonding with a man that seemed perfect in health. He watched his girlfriend spar aggressively with her father, giggling like a little girl as she did so. It made him smile to see that he was the one person that could rid all that attitude. When he died, nobody knew he was sick. Not even Sonali— his death was a shock to their entire family. But with Toji there for her, all of her pain seemed easier to manage. He loved her no matter how angry she was. In general, or at him. The more she pushed away, the more he pulled forward. She cried in his arms for nights at a time, wishing she hadn’t lost her father. Wishing she could be the confident woman he raised her to be. Wishing everything wasn’t so damn difficult.

That anger never subsided, grief turning to rage very quickly. It all mushed into one emotion when a random stranger verbally attacked her, calling her a racial slur and spitting at her. That was her final straw. She lunged forward as she attacked this woman, ripping the frail blonde hair from her scalp, punching her with a strength of almost two men. When Toji pulled her away, the cops captured her next, dragging her out in a chaotic scene.

Once again, there Toji was. Right behind her in court, nervously listening in as the judge explained her assault charges. The woman now had a busted artery in her face, paired with a ruptured eardrum that caused her to go completely deaf on her left side. The charges were thankfully dropped due to witnesses explaining she was only in defense of herself due to discrimination, plus her record being completely clean. That situation proved to Sonali that she wanted to change for the better. Mentally, physically, emotionally, even if that meant some self reflecting she wasn’t ready to face.

“I think you’re perfect the way you are, baby. But if you wanna change, we can work towards that, too,” Toji’s deep voice comes in her ears that same night, cleaning the blood from beneath her fingers, staring in her face as frustrated tears drop from her eyes.

“We can start by finding a place to put all of that anger. Imma’ put you in the ring with me, I’d never need a mouth guard again,” He teases, causing her to softly giggle as he continues, “You got a mean ass left hook. You learned that from your father.”

“Yeah. Taught me a few things, although most of my skills came from petty street fights” she mutters.

“I get that, you need technique. I was damn near enamored with all the Rocky films. Even had a punching bag in my bedroom,” he chuckles.

“You need technique. I can show you,” she suggests.

“Me?”

“You’re quick, but you lack the repetition of catching your opponent off guard. That’s how you win. Relax them into thinking they have that negative space to hit you, then swing where they least expect it,” she shrugs.

“Teach me some shit, then.”

“I will.”

In those three years, Sonali faced all the issues she felt she withheld, having a support system behind her that had truly changed her for the better. Her patience, temper, eating habits, sleeping schedule. She felt like a new her. A better her. Toji saw her progress as well, falling more in love every single day—he just had to ask for her hand in marriage.

Here they were now, Sonali giving co-ownership of her father’s boxing gym to Toji, allowing him to reopen the business for other local boxers. He was easily recognized, known to never lose a match, knocking someone out in less than five minutes. She wasn’t used to seeing him have a somewhat celebrity status, but it made her happy that she could be beside him for this new time in their relationship. Just like she saw changes in him, he definitely saw changes within her.

“C’mon, Fushiguro.”

He heard his manager's voice within his ear. Shiu leaned against the rope of the ring where Toji stood inside, across from another man as they continued to spar. This was his usual routine on a regular day, constantly upping his skills to prepare for his next match.

“You’ distracted or something?” The man across from him asked, smiling in an almost taunting manner.

“Yeah. I’m bored, you hit like a bitch.”

“Show me some shit then!” The man laughed, hovering the gloves over his face, arms out in a protective position.

‘I BE DAMNED’ by Comethazine continues to play along the speakers in the ceiling. Toji remained where he was, hands mimicking the protection stance as he stared at his opponent. He stepped back, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet with narrowed eyes. He studied his movement like a test. Just as the man was about to talk more shit, his glove quickly lashed out and smashed his opponent in the jaw as he flashed forward, knocking him to the floor. Toji harshly taps his gloves together, continuing to bounce on his feet as the man quickly stands up, ignoring the cringe that goes around the ring.

“Y’all acting like girls,” the coach says, “Fushiguro, you gotta perfect this move you keep dodging. Lead uppercut, straight,” He commands.

“I got it,” he says lowly.

“So do it.”

Him and the man continue to spar for a bit. From another pair of eyes, his hands smear into the atmosphere, catching every movement the man makes in front of him. He knows all of his techniques. His focus is encapsulated on the gloves in front of him, never noticing as the large bodyguard enters the gym, standing to the side with his hands in front of his abdomen.

When he does see this, he slows down as he calls, “De’Angelo, where’s Sonali?”

“She’s not here, sir.” De’Angelo replies, no emotion to his face.

Toji steps back from his opponent as he tilts his head, “I’m not a fucking idiot. Don’t play with me. I can see that, she’s supposed to be with you.”

“She told me to come here, sir,” he explains, “Said she wanted to be by herself.”

“I don’t pay you to fold,” he gruffly reminds, twisting his neck as he cracks the bone, “Did she tell you where she was going?”

“No, sir.”

He becomes immensely irritated, flaring his nose as he wants to punch the shit out of his bodyguard. He didn’t necessarily need one, but with the status he was beginning to withhold and having a schedule where he couldn’t constantly be with Sonali, he hired De’Angelo for her safety. Her and him had created a friendship essentially, De’Angelo obviously being wrapped up in her sweet nature, allowing himself to be distracted by his job. Shit, he wasn’t the first.

“Imma’ give you five minutes to find her before I step out this ring.”

The funny thing was, De’Angelo was a man that nearly stood at 6’5, bigger and scarier than most. But Toji was bigger and scarier than any man combined when he was pissed.

By god’s grace—and to De’Angelo’s luck—Toji’s ears almost hike up like a dog when he hears her feminine voice, involuntarily sultry as she speaks. She appears within the frame of the gym’s door, leaning her head against the phone to her ear as she giggles softly, “Girl. You should’ve seen the cashier's face. Looking at me stupid cause I counted four hundred dollars in one’s. Mind your business, hoe!”

Another issue Toji was recently beginning to face. With all the evolving Sonali had done in the years of them being together, her beauty had become tenfold. She went from a ten, to a fucking twelve. Her proportions were almost exaggerative. Full breast, sitting upright perfectly under the soft pink gym set she wore, long sleeve and clinging to her curves. Her waist was comparative to a Coke bottle, hips large as if she’d given birth. Thighs toned and supple, ass—soft, full, fat. She was a dime. As she entered the building, her dark curls bounced around her shoulders, pulled out of her face by a hello kitty shaped hair band, one she usually wore if she was doing her makeup or going to the gym. Yet, her face is rid of any cosmetics, freckles spraying along her cheeks and forehead, nose ring shining in the light. She absentmindedly sipped the matching pink cup she had, holding a numerous amount of bags in her other hand.

Jealousy. A word that he never expected to feel within his own body anytime she was without him, the eyes of other men hungry as they watched her. He knew the kind of beauty his woman withheld, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it when they stared. He was like her guard dog, always hovering over her as she danced in la-la land, giddy and happy as he protected her from the monster that was the reality. The same cat-like eyes that were tattooed on his forearm became slender as she smiled. Her hips twisted as she came in, calling into the phone, “Imma’ call you back. See you later, bookie!” Hanging up as she turned her attention to their bodyguard.

“Hey, D. I got both of us a drink! I got you some lime Kombucha, I know you said your stomach had been hurting. This should help your digestion,” She smiles, handing the soft green drink to him.

Toji stumbles slightly as he feels his opponent connect his glove into his shoulder, lightly trying to get his attention. As everyone else laughs around him, he glares in return, the laughs quickly dying down as the coach mutters, “Should’ve minked his ass in the face. Let's take a five,” he then states.

“Fuck you. I’m taking a ten,” Toji replies, removing his gloves and only being left with bandages as he drops down from the ring, coming over to her as she continues to speak to De’Angelo.

His face goes slightly warm as he takes the drink, “Try it in the car. I’ll be out there in a second, okay? I’ll show you the playlist I made for you,” she talks.

“Yes ma’am,” he ducks away from Toji’s death stare, exiting the building.

His face softens as he now looks down to her. He watches as she drops her bags, placing her cup down on the ground as wraps her arms around his neck.

“Babydoll,” he rasps, “Where were you?”

“Hi, Daddy,” she smiles happily, “I missed you.”

He narrows his eyes down. She softly rolls her eyes as she speaks, “I just came from the gym, did a little shopping afterwards. Why you’ making a face? Are you upset?”

“‘Nali, baby,” he sighs, bringing his arms around her ass, gripping the skin within his hold, “I don’t like to have to put my foot up D'Angelo's ass everytime I can’t find you with him. Please stop sending him off.”

“Okay, sorry. I just wanted to have a little girl time, that’s all. You’ mad? Tell me you love me.”

“I love you. You know that,” he brings his face down, sucking her tongue into his mouth. He could never be mad at her for too long, even if it was warranted. Her grin widens as she says, “Good. How’s he doing?” She then brings her attention to the men in the ring, pulling Toji’s hand as she makes her way over to them.

“Distracted by you. Get out,” Shiu expresses, annoyed.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” she brings her eyes to his coach, “Why y’all beefing? What’s the problem?”

“We’ve been trying to get him to perfect the uppercut, straight-hit. He’s being soft.”

“What's that?” One of the newer members of the gym asks, climbing into the ring as his session is coming in the next fifteen minutes.

“It’s when you dip down to the right, punch within the airway of your stomach, then lean towards the left and tag your opponent in the face,” Sonali explains, rubbing Toji’s arm who seems more annoyed than his manager.

“He would’ve done that shit if you were here,” the coach points out.

“Why don’t you train? You know this shit better than most of us do.” The other guy asks.

She shakes her head, “Had to get my hands registered when Toji did. Fighting is a bit traumatic for me now. Plus, I’m in school, I don’t really have the time.”

Toji knew her real passion, wanting to be a postpartum nurse and help new mothers with their babies. She currently worked a part-time job making the milk within the hospital for their NICU department. He also knew she could easily just be as good as him in boxing if she put her mind to it.

“Too bad. Put this motherfucker in check, his head is somewhere else when we have a fight tomorrow,” Shiu snaps.

“Wanna get in the ring with him, Shiu? Better yet, with me?” Sonali asks.

He stares silently, muttering as he speaks, “I gotta take a phone call. For your damn fight,” He looks to Toji, stepping down from the ring as she makes his way to another part of the gym. Sonali calls, “C’mon, Shiu! I was just fucking with you.”

“I don’t have time for his prissy ass today. Imma’ get the move, I’m good,” Toji finalizes to his coach.

He replies, “You better.”

Everyone steps down from the ring as they allow the other boxers to get their time in, Sonali sitting on the ground with Toji as she wraps his bandages for him. She sighs, “Shiu’s giving you shit today. Why?”

“He’s pissed at me cause I didn’t take some endorsement deal they called me for. I’m cool with the status I have now. Even that is too much,” he replies honestly.

“You don’t enjoy all the pretty girls gawking over you?” She teasingly asks.

He shakes his head, “The only pretty girl I want fangirling over me is you.”

“Awe, you’re so fake.” She lightly mushes her hand against his face, “Should’ve taken it. Would’ve put more money in our pockets.”

“Money isn’t a problem. You know that,” he reminds, “Don’t I keep you in the life of luxury?” He teases back.

“Of course. But getting calls for endorsement means that they see you have the potential to be bigger than you think. You can make a household name, Fushiguro. Don’t miss that opportunity. You have me. I have you. We’re a team,” she speaks.

He sighs, knowing that she’s right. He wasn’t too fond of being in the limelight, but if that meant more financial stability and to be able to take care of her more than he did now, he found an upside to the situation.

He changes the subject, “What’d you spend all my money on today?”

“Um, wrong. I spent my money today, playboy. I got it like that,” she corrects him, running her fingers over his olive skin as he chuckles, “I bought the cutest Telfar purse in the store. It was ballerina pink. I had to have it, I also bought some more gym shirts for you, and some outfit choices for my friends party tonight.”

“You didn’t tell me about a party,” he frowns.

“I’m telling you now,” she blinks.

He blows out a breath, scratching the back of his neck as he asks, “What are we eating tonight?”

“Oh! Well, I bought some ingredients to cook you some vegan tacos. I also got a couple of fruits to make smoothies—“

“Why can’t we eat like regular people? I’m a grown ass man, baby. My carnivorous needs aren’t being met.”

She rolls her eyes, “Because I’m under a calorie deficit, and red meat is too heavy for my stomach. And yours,” she replies.

“Ah shit, here we go with this calorie deficit bullshit,” he groans, leaning back on the ground as he continues groaning like a toddler.

“Don’t start with me, Toji. I swear to god.”

Although he was supportive of her new lifestyle as far as her diet was concerned, it sometimes became a frustration between them when he was also forced to eat the same foods as her. He felt like he needed to eat twice after one meal, trying to maintain his correct protein count.

“Fine, I’ll get you some chicken. It’ll keep you shaped like the Hulk.”

He leans his head up, “If only I was actually that big. I’d fly across the city and burn every vegan-calorie-deficit-item known to man.”

“You’re my biggest hater, you know that?” She raised an eyebrow.

“And your biggest fan all in one.”

She tilts her head, “I almost forgot to mention the last place I went. I stopped by the Savage-Fenty store. Got me a couple lingerie sets,” she rolls her eyes, looking at her bags as she feels Toji sit halfway up.

“But all my items seem so uninteresting to you. So I guess I’ll just take them ba—“

She’s interrupted as he grips her up, throwing her over his shoulder as he grabs all of her belongings with him. She coughs at the sudden movement, giggling as he begins making his way towards the exit.

His coach calls, “Aye! Where the hell you’ going, Fushiguro?!”

“I’m done for tonight. I’ll come back in the morning!”

“You better know how to tap a motherfucker by the time you come here tomorrow!”

“Oh, Imma’ tap something!” He calls back.

Sonali places her hand over her mouth, shockingly laughing as she shouts, “Toji!” His coach shakes his head as he watches them disappear out of the building.

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡

“You like it? Maybe I should’ve gotten gold. Shit, maybe pink. Ugh.”

Sonali stands indesively in the full body mirror within the bathroom, eyeing herself and pulling any critique she can. She brings her vision behind her as she watches Toji sitting in a bathtub full of ice, absentmindedly scratching his chin as he leans his arms on the sides of the bath, staring at his phone.

“So anyways, like I was saying. Amara didn’t invite this other girl to the party because when she invited us out to her birthday dinner, she told us that it was a split the bill type of thing, right?”

“Right,” Toji mutters, never looking up from his phone.

“So I tell Amara, girl. What the hell do I look like splitting the bill with somebody? I’m paying for my meal, tipping the waiter and taking my ass home.”

“Right,” he mutters again, stretching his arm back as he scrolls his thumb across his screen.

“The girl catches an attitude and is like, ‘It’s my birthday. I wanna go to a steak restaurant, and imma’ ball out on shrimp, oxtails, lamb chops. Everyone will pay an equal five hundred and sixty—“

“And?” He cuts off, wide eyes shooting up as he hears the number, “There’s an ‘and’ after that number? ‘The fuck I look like paying five hundred American dollars for something I’m not consuming? That lobster better revive itself and boil all over again,” he exclaims.

“Moral to the story is, her and the girl aren’t cool anymore and now she’s blowing up Amara’s phone because she’d already bought her outfit for the party. Make the check out to that lamb chop, bitch,” she finalizes, turning towards him as she then asks, “But seriously, do you like it?”

He takes focus on her outfit, which…wasn't actually an outfit. She stands across from him, wearing a chrome triangle bikini top with matching bottoms, turning to the side as her entire ass was out due to it being thong styled swimwear. He catches his name that’s tattooed on her hip, coming to the conclusion that there was barely anything covering her if he could see that.

“It’s sexy as hell,” he replies, “A little too sexy, babydoll.”

“It’s a pool party, Toji. Was I supposed to go in a large shirt?”

“Maybe,” he shrugs.

She rolls her eyes, turning back to the mirror. She sighs, “Maybe I should’ve gotten a one piece. I need to tone up a bit in my stomach, it’s getting a little soft,” she mutters, running her fingers over her abdomen. Toji looked over her body, seeing her abs coming through her upper stomach, trying to figure out what the hell she was going on about.

He turns his head towards her, dropping his phone as he asked, “You need to be fucked in front of that mirror before you go?”

Her eyes go wide as she turns, “No!”

“ Stop talking about yourself then,” he replies, lifting his phone back up.

She sighs, knowing that she might be being exaggerative. But every time she stares at herself, she sees the girl that would’ve worn a large T-shirt to a pool party. She wished she could get out of her own head.

Toji steps out of the ice bath, Sonali catching a glimpse of the monster that hung between his legs, a towel quickly being thrown around his waist before she could put a microscope to him.

“You look good,” he walks past her, slamming his palm on her ass, “The color goes well with your skin tone.”

He wanted to scream for her to take it off. To stay with him in bed, unable for other men to see the demon of a body she had. He let that thought subside.

“Even if I wanted some dick, did you forget that I just recently got back on birth control? Today’s the last day before it actually activates,” She reminds.

“I know that. Maybe I want a baby,” he shrugs.

She rolls her eyes, “Please. You have Muffin.”

“Of course I do. Muffin!” He then calls.

The large Cane Corso speeds into the room, attacking him as the dog flops onto the bed. Toji groans happily as he wraps his arms around the animal.

“My Muffin. You won’t put on a skimpy ass bikini and throw yourself to the wolves, will you?” He sarcastically asks, the dog panting in excitement as he rubs her belly.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Do you not want me to go?” She comes out of the bathroom, beginning to search for her makeup bag in the closet. She doesn’t hear a response from him as he lays next to Muffin, opening the laptop beside their bed. She comes out from the closet as she says, “Hello?” Raising an eyebrow.

He really doesn’t want to have the conversation of him feeling some type of way about her outfit. He doesn’t want to show his jealousy or insecurities, although it probably would’ve been the better option to do.

He sighs, “Nah, baby. I want you to have fun. What shoes are you wearing?”

“Nothing too crazy, probably my YSL’s,” she shrugs, “I’m more so worried about my hair and makeup. I’m not getting in that damn pool, too much chlorine and I had a wash day not too long ago!”

“Maybe those clear heels I bought you will go better with your color scheme.”

“The stripper looking ones?”

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Mmm, okay, fashionista! And here I thought you were just in the shackles of your black long sleeves and sweatpants combo.”

He chuckles, “I am in the shackles. But forreal, don’t have too much fun. I did tell De’Angelo to come pick you up from work tomorrow, let you get ready and then to bring you to my dressing room before my fight. You'll be there?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Daddy,” she grins, going over to him as she plops herself on his lap, laughing as he groans from the impact.

She stares over the tattoo along his ribs as he continues to glance over the screen of the computer, his eyebrows peeking up as he then asks, “Why am I getting an email from the neighborhood saying we’ve been reported?”

Sonali pauses. She purses her lips together as she flips off of him, making a whistling noise as she says, “C’mon, Muffin. You’ ready to eat?”

The dog immediately jumps up as she begins following behind her owner. Toji calmly calls her name, “‘’Nali.”

She lets out a deep breath as she says, “Okay, okay. Fine. Me and Muffin were out on our morning jog a couple of days ago and this guy approached me and asked for my number.”

She sees his face twist up as she then continues, “I told him no and that I was engaged, of course. He kept pressing me, asking about Muffin and why she wasn’t on a leash. I told him she was trained—“

“Why were you still talking to him?”

“…I don’t know? I was being nice.”

“‘The fuck you being nice for?”

She pauses as she hears the slight raise of his voice. Her tone goes soft as she finishes, “He asked if he could shake my hand. I told him no. When he put his hand out anyways, Muffin bit him. I immediately reported it to the office, but I was only in violation of having her off of a leash.”

“And you’re just telling me this now?” He stands from the bed, Sonali quickly turning into the bathroom as she sees him following behind her, “Muffin should’ve bit his fucking arm off, brought it home to me so I could find his ass and beat the shit out of him with it. He could’ve done anything to you.”

“I know that, Toji. I was fine. I could’ve defended myself if needed—“

“I don’t give a fuck, Sonali,” he calls her by her full name.

He sees her face change, a soft frown coming to her lips. She’s not used to him being upset with her. It’s not that she took advantage of that, she just hated seeing him upset, so it was easier to keep things from him. He runs his fingers over his damp hair, coming towards her as he lifts her onto the bathroom counter.

“You have to tell me when stuff like that happens, baby. God forbid he tried to hurt you and I wasn’t there, I would’ve lost my fucking mind. Please just be careful when taking your daily runs, okay?”

She nods her head, “Yeah, okay. I’m sorry,” she brings her arms around his neck, pulling his forehead to hers as he replies, “I’m not mad.”

“You sure? You’re not gonna go find him and kill him?”

“Imma’ mush his fucking skull in. But I’m not mad at you,” he clarifies.

She rolls her eyes, pushing him away from her as she hops off of the counter, “Mmm, whatever. You’ jealous or something?” She taunts, making her way back out of the bathroom as she retrieves her makeup. He squeezes his fists together as he thinks, maybe, taking another breath as he heads back into the bedroom.

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡

The night falls on the next day rather quickly. Buzz about the fight goes along the entire city, Sonali watching as De’Angelo pulls up to the front of the building, seeing long lines of men and women—a huge influx of women— chatting excitedly as they hand their tickets to the person within the booth, making their way into the arena.

She takes D’s hand as he pulls her through the crowd, eyes lightly glaring over her as they jump the line and walk through, Sonali politely thanking anyone working within the building. They guide them upstairs to the second floor, leading them to a door with ‘FUSHIGURO’ aligned in all red.

“Yeah?” Toji calls out with a slight groan as he hears a knock, his tone sounding slightly exasperated as the fighters focus was on his upcoming match.

Sonali slowly presses the door open as she softly asks, “Can I come in?”

As she slowly opens the door, Toji sits in his full gear along the dressing room sofa. Black mouth piece, compression leggings beneath the black shorts he wears, his name titled along the hem of his bottoms. His tattoos seem to stand out more as he wears darker attire. Harsh eyes focus in as he talks to Shiu and his coach. That focus slowly dissipates as he looks to the door, a look of shock crossing his face as she enters, quickly gazing over at the barely fitted dress she wears. It was onyx, white lace trimming the top and bottom of the short material. Extremely short. A soft pink bow sits in the middle at the top where her breasts are pushed up, nearly spilling from the fabric, it being thin where everyone can slightly see her brown nipples. To top it all off, it barely covers her ass, the skin jiggling with every movement she makes, clearly ill-fitting as she has to lightly pull it down with every step. She wears the clear tall heels he’d bought her, his leather jacket hung over the entire dress—although that didn’t change how fucking preposterous it was— her usual dark curls now lengthened out in loose waves, small pink bows cascading in her hair. She was fucking gorgeous. Sexy. Edible. Fuckable. Toji wanted to kill her.

She smiles softly as she sees him while removing the leather jacket, throwing it to the side of the sofa as she presses her knees against the cushions, wrapping her arms around Toji’s neck as she slightly bends down to do so. From across the mirror, Toji catches her pink hello-kitty panties as she bends down, Shiu and De’Angelo also sees this. Everyone can’t help but stare.

“Hi, Shiu. How are you?” She asks. God, this girl was so bad with awareness.

“Uh…I’m good,” he adjusts his suit, the sight of the dress quickly arousing the man without trying to do so.

Toji’s gaze remained fixated on her as he said nothing. His emotions went from annoyance, to arousal, to complete rage as he now caught the sight of the other two men.

“You need me to glue your eyes back into your head? Or better yet, rip them out of your eye sockets all in one? Get the fuck out,” he spits to both of them.

Both Shiu and De’Angelo practically run out, Sonali frowning softly as she asks, “What’s wrong?”

He runs his hand over his face as he stands from the sofa, throwing his mouthguard onto the mirror dresser. He had a lot—repeat—a lot of patience with Sonali. Her naivety to dangerous situations, the way she dressed, the way she smiled in the attention of any man without realizing what she was doing. But this had to be his icing on the cake.

He drops his hand from his face as he finally speaks, “What in the actual fucking hell—are you wearing, Sonali?”

She blinks. Standing from the sofa as she comes behind him, laughing uncomfortably as she sarcastically mutters, “A dress? What else would it b—“

“Do you see me laughing? Do I look like a fucking joke to you?”

Her mouth clasps closed as he comes inches away from her face, hovering over her smaller frame. She ducks back a bit as she puts together that he’s entirely serious. Shit.

“You bought this for me, Toji.”

He smacks his lips, actually finding something funny in that. “Nah. I didn’t buy that, I just paid for it. I would’ve never let you have a dress like that had I seen you try it on, don’t be fucking stupid.”

Stupid?

“Stupid?” She looks around, “Who the fuck are you talking to?” She comes even closer to his face, ducking down as she squints, “Wanna rewind? Clearly you’ve lost your mind.”

“Damn right I’ve lost my mind. I’m talking to my fiance who decided to come to my fight wearing half of her fucking outfit!” He exclaims, “This is my first time seeing you today. God fuckin’ knows where else else you’ve been in this stupid ass dress!”

“I was at work!” She fired back, “Which you should know, you keep De’Angelo chained to me like he’s my fucking babysitter!”

“I wouldn’t have to hire a babysitter if you weren’t such a goddamn child, Sonali. Just no fuckin’ awareness to any situation! First it was you not making a big deal out of the fact that some motherfucker in the neighborhood damn near attempted to assault you, now this! Things happen to women too fucking fast. I can’t protect you if I’m not around, or I don’t know what happened! That’s why you have De’Angelo. But none of this even matters if you wanna make shit harder by walking around dressed like a fuckin’ slut!”

She jerked back at his words. Her eyes went slightly wide, immediately feeling as they filled with hot, angry tears. She hadn’t felt this type of rage in so long. The only other time she’d felt like this, her fist was plummeted within a woman’s face. She felt disrespected, hurt by his words.

“You know how long it took me to even be able to wear a t-shirt without sleeves? Anything that showed my stomach? Any part of my body, really. This was my fear. To be judged. But I didn’t think it would be by the person who got me out of my shell in the first place,” she spoke with a depth, wanting him to hear every word, tears dropping mindlessly down her face.

His anger softened for a moment as he heard her words. Realizing the things he said, he knew he couldn’t take them back. His biggest fear was hurting this woman in a way he couldn’t repair, and hitting her in her biggest insecurities definitely was a way to do that. He watches as she presses her hands over her face, masking her tears as she holds in her cries, finally releasing as she trembles out a soft sob. She quickly turns away from him, beelining for the door.

“Fuck,” he muttered, “Babydoll. I’m—“

It all happened so fast. When he reached for her wrist, she turned towards him, rapidly swinging her right fist forward as it plunged into the middle of his stomach, Toji unable to block her hit as her left fist painfully knocked into his jaw. He stumbled back as he caught himself against the mirror. His eyes immediately went down to her left fist, seeing the blood along her knuckles, finger bare of her ring. Even as pissed as he was, he still knew everything about her. Of course she removed her ring to prove just how lethal her left hand was.

He stared at her, the anger from earlier washing over his entire body. He wasn’t just angry now. He was pissed. He spat against the floor, watching as a pool of blood dropped from his mouth, looking over to the mirror to see she’d punched directly on a previous scar. She knew it was wrong to become violent with him— she figured she just wanted to do something to hurt him as well.

“That’s how you do that move,” she sneered, placing her ring back on her finger.

The door then opens as Shiu enters, seeing the scene in front of him. Sonali’s fists grip under her fingers, hands still shaking as she only focused on Toji who stared evilly back at her.

“We’re up, Fushiguro—“

Shiu grunts as Sonali bumps his shoulder, flying past him. His eyes go back to Toji as he says, “Should I ask what happened?”

Toji says nothing. In silence, he turns back towards the mirror as he looks for his mouth guard, only saying, “Bring me my gloves.”

She felt like she was gonna have an anxiety attack, leaning against the wall outside of the dressing room as she held her chest, feeling all of her emotions that she buried down returning. They had their disagreements, but this had to be one of the worst. The way he spoke to her, her reaction to his words. She felt regretful. She wanted to apologize, she hoped that he was apologetic as well.

She clears her eyes of tears as she can hear the rumble of chaos coming from downstairs, hearing as they call his name through the speakers in the arena. Pulling herself together as she turned the corner where De’Angelo stood, gripping his hand as she pulled him forward, “Let’s go.”

Anytime she came to his show, she had a front row seat directly across from the ring. This time she wished she was in the nosebleeds. She sits next to De’Angelo who stares everywhere but her, noticing how her eyes stay along her legs, adjusting herself uncomfortably in her dress.

“Mr. Fushiguro told me to give you this, he knew you would be cold,” He says, handing her the leather jacket she previously wore earlier.

“He said that?” She asks.

“…Yes ma’am,” he replies softly, watching as she slowly takes the jacket from him.

He helps her put the jacket over her shoulders, her eyes coming upward as everyone around her cheers. An uproar goes along the building as Toji appears in the ring. She sees that his scar is healing faster than she expected, a small hint of relief coming from her at that. Usually he would wink at her before any match she came to, this time, she assumed he would keep his head in the opposite direction. But no. He turns, looking directly at her as he winks. She frowns.

“May I say something, Sonali?”

She’s taken out of her thoughts as she turns to De’Angelo. She sighs, “Are you about to ‘dad’ me right now?”

“You need it. I’m old enough to be your father. God rest his soul,” he speaks, Sonali crossing her arms over her chest, feeling a ball forming in her throat.

“Both of you were wrong for the way you handled that situation. But he should’ve expressed that in a different way. My daughter would’ve been hung on a flagpole by this goddamn dress. But you’re grown, I can’t tell you what you shouldn’t wear. The ultimate issue is you also shouldn’t have hit him, even if you know he can take a punch. You just need to apologize to each other. And quickly, when y’all are fighting it fucks up my chakras.”

Sonali turns her eyes to him, unable to help but softly laugh. She sighs, “I don’t like you sometimes.”

“I’m your babysitter, remember? You’re not supposed to.”

As she brings her eyes back to the ring, she sees they’d already begun. It was always a nervous time for her to watch him fight. But she also knew that he was fast, and his strength was terrifying. He patiently awaits for his opponent to make the first move, the opponent ducking down, Toji quickly moving out of the way as he sends a devastating hook to the man’s face, flying him backwards against the ring. The crowd goes wild, the referee having to step in as Toji continues swinging his gloves along the man’s face, probably knocking all of his thoughts out of his head. He’s agile, knowing immediately which part of the man’s body he wants to connect with next, giving him no room to defend himself. She could feel his anger pooling off of his body, fists throwing various strikes, the opponent panting as he gets in a few hits himself, Toji immediately blocking them.

It was one second as she watched his opponent give him a good hit to the face, Sonali cringing as she shut her eyes, leaning her elbows on her legs as she muttered, “Fuck. C’mon, baby.”

Regardless of how they felt about one another right now, she was here. He had her support. He doesn’t show any sign of fatigue, even after that good strike against his chin. Her eyes scatter along their moving bodies, Sonali never expecting as Toji dips down with his right fist, punching the man within the airway of his stomach, coming back up as he strikes him within the left side of his jaw, his body dropping down to the ring floor. Chaos goes along the audience. Sonali’s unable to hold the relieved smile that comes along her face, De’Angelo clapped as she cheered at the succession of him achieving that movement. His team patted his muscular arms and shoulders, pulling him back down to give him time to breath. A countdown went along the room as his opponent still hadn't gotten up. When Sonali thought this would all be over, the opponent struggles as he stands, either crazy or just plain stupid as he’s ready for another round.

She frowns as they call for a thirty-minute break, the opponent complaining about how Toji commited a “foul,” claiming he’d kicked him a couple of times. Sonali rolls her eyes, leaning back against her seat as both opponents leave the ring, scurrying back to their dressing rooms.

“Mr. Fushiguro requests that you come back to his dressing room.”

Her eyebrows furrow, “Right now? I’m sure Shiu doesn’t want me distracting him.”

“I’m just telling you what Shiu told me. Don’t get me in trouble again,” he reminds, Sonali chuckling as she replies, “I’m going.”

Making her way back upstairs, she feels herself become nervous. She wants to find the correct words to have this conversation with him, hoping that he’s in the same headspace as she is.

“You’re not coming in?” She asks De’Angelo who stands on the opposite side of the door.

“No ma’am,” he starts firmly.

She raises an eyebrow at that, muttering, “Uh, okay.”

She pushes the door open as she makes her way inside, preparing herself for the amount of adrenaline she’s sure he carries from the fight. She expects to see Shiu and his coach in there speaking to him, seeing as he stands across from the mirror by himself, carefully unwrapping the bandages on his fingers.

She blows out a breath, “Toji—“

“Come here.”

Once she enters the dressing room, she can immediately hear his heavy breathing. He says this as he doesn’t turn to look at her—His tone was clear for her to listen.

She slowly comes forward, standing a couple of inches away from him as she says, “I want us to talk—“

“On your knees,” he calmly interrupts, eyes still not upon hers as he finishes unraveling the last bit of his bandages. Her heart thuds in her chest as she hears this, seeing as he now turns his face towards her. He was completely serious.

“Now?” She asks.

“Now.”

She still stands in confusion. He becomes impatient, gripping her firmly by her hair, pulling her down as her knees come to the floor. Her eyes only watch him, becoming almost doe like, body becoming infinitely aroused as she awaited for his next command.

“You want my dick in your mouth, don’t you?”

Her mouth waters at the thought. She doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, but she nods her head nonetheless.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

He grips her hair tighter, using his other hand as he pulls out his length from under his boxers, veiny and large as it stands across from her face.

She nods her head, correcting herself as she says softly, “…Yes, Daddy.”

“Good.”

He pulls her jaw open, forcing himself past her lips as he knocks into the back of her throat, pulling her down by her hair as her mouth makes contact with his hips. Sonali moans as she opens her mouth wider, choking out a cough which sends vibrations throughout Toji’s body. He grunts as he watches her, Sonali drooling more each time she pulls her mouth back to his tip, swirling her tongue on the inside of her cheek. She keeps her face upwards, looking straight into his as he leans his head down, eyes blown with lust.

“You see that?” He asks, digging his fingers within the scalp of her hair, moving his hips rhythmically into her mouth, creating a wet noise with each connection.

“This fuckin’ mouth of yours. Imma’ make a mess of your fuckin’ throat. It’s mine,” he tells her. She hums at that, feeling her jaw slightly burning, spit running down the sides of her mouth as she twists her head, falling deeper within the trap of his words. It gets to a point where she barely does any movement herself, her throat full as he slams into the back of it, eyes becoming watery as he doesn’t plan to be gentle with her.

He finally relaxes as he pulls her back, Sonali breathing heavily within her chest as she runs her tongue over her lips. Toji tilts his head, “So fuckin’ needy, aren’t you? You want more?”

She nods her head, feeling her nipples hardening at his words as he gently smacks his palm against her cheek, “Say you want more. Use your words.”

“I want more,” she says quietly.

“Louder.”

“I want more, please,” she raises her voice a bit more.

He then pulls her up by her hair again, pushing her against the mirror dresser as her back is now against it, legs spread widely as her knees fall along the black marble. She shivers at the coldness of it, feeling as Toji scoots her down towards him, pulling her panties to the side as he attaches his mouth to her clit. He immediately moaned at the taste of her. She shudders at the cold feeling of his tongue-ring, bringing her eyes down as she watches him circle his head slowly in between her legs, bringing his tongue in a dreadful up and down motion as he spreads her legs wider, holding her down by both legs as he makes out with her opening. Sonali presses her hands to the back of her knees, raising her head as she watches.

“Yeah, baby. That’s it,” she moans, “Eat my pussy just like that,” she talks, shuddering out a whine as he spanks the skin of her ass beneath them. She raises her head fully to look at him, pushing her hand through his hair to look within his eyes that don’t come up to hers.

“Baby…look at me,” she asks softly.

He grunts at her voice, never fulfilling her request. It frustrates her. Diving his tongue deeper into her, he motions his head back and forth, Sonali biting her lip to hold back her dazed smile. She continues to speak to him, “That’s so fucking good, Daddy,” she whimpers, “Fuck my pussy with your tongue. I love that.”

He became annoyed with her talking, not eating her out for the sake of her pleasure. He was simply preparing her body for the way he was about to fuck her. On the other hand, her voice was like a drug he couldn’t stop withdrawing from, feminine and soft as she whined, spreading her legs wider and dipping his tongue deeper with each word. It was like lighting a fire in hell, knowing how aroused she could make him by just speaking.

“Here, let me help you,” she says, gripping his hair as she raises his mouth from her clit, slowly placing it back down as his lips create a suctioning noise from that. Sonali grinds herself against his mouth, watching as Toji moves his tongue all around her core, going back down to her opening as he fully pushes his tongue inside, fucking her as she asked. She becomes more wet from that, gushing out each time he removes his mouth just for a second, shoving right back in. She giggles sultrily, twisting her head to the side as she watches. Her head falls against the black marble of the dresser, back arching as she whimpers, “Don’t stop. I’m gonna squirt all over your fucking mouth, baby. Just the way you like it. Just the way you want me to, okay? I promise.”

His entire body inflames at her words, standing up fully as he keeps a hold of her panties with his other hand, dropping his tip along her clit as it smushes arousingly against it. He mutters, “Hold your legs up,” Sonali doing so as he takes a hold of her ankles. She leans her head back against the dresser again, grunting slightly as he’s already pushing his tip inside her, taking that hand as he lifts her head, “Nah. You’re gonna watch me go inside you. Take every fuckin’ inch of this dick.”

Her legs tremble as he fills her, her mouth going agape as she watches all of him being swallowed by her opening. An intense pinch is within her abdomen as she closes her eyes, whimpering deeply in her throat. Her body feels complete, regardless of how big he actually was, no matter how long he ate her out for—she couldn’t handle him.

“Oh my godd…” she quivers, moaning loudly as she tightens around him, Toji spanking her as he demands, “Open my pussy. I’m gonna ruin you. You’ll love every second of it.”

She’s unable to reply, her voice lost as he slowly pulls back, somehow going deeper when he pushes all the way in. An influx of curses leave her mouth, Toji’s hand moving from her hair to her lips, shoving his fingers into her mouth as he grits out, “Watch your mouth.”

He pulls her by the bite of her teeth, the back of her thighs dirtily clapping with his hips, Toji taking the hand that’s still around her ankle as he brings his thumb to her clit, rubbing in circles to relax her. Sonali closes her eyes, in a high state of mind almost, vision rolling to the back of her head as she moans dumbly, intelligence thrown out the window with each thrust.

“This fuckin’ dress,” he growls, pulling it up her hips as it now almost looked to be a shirt. His actions are a mix of lust and frustration. Nonetheless, he’s unable to hold back his desires and feelings as he grabs a hold of her hips, shoving her down to meet his body. He watched every reaction she gave. He was clearly still pissed off, but the way she looked up to him with her eyes, her mouth sucking his fingers deeper into her throat as she moaned, whined and writhed beneath him, it didn’t help in the slightest. He wanted to tear the entire dress apart. He brings his hand back down, spanking her ass again, this time leaving a bruise.

“You think I want every man in this building to see my woman? I think you like it when I’m mad. Shit turns you on,” he grunts, Sonali jumping as he continuously spanks her.

“I…Toji…” she softly cries, wanting to reach her hand to his. He takes her hand, roughly placing it back behind her knee as he says, “Hold your legs. Shut the fuck up.”

Her mouth closes as she whimpers, lightly grazing her teeth against his fingers as he shoves them within her throat. All she can do is watch. She tries to hold herself together, wanting to adjust her body as she’s trapped in a position where she feels every…single…thrust. Her eyes tear away from his, more curses releasing from her lips as he immediately smacks her cheek at that, moving her face away from his hand as she whines, “Fuckk, baby.”

“You love it, I know,” he becomes irritated, “Daddy’s always gonna fuck you like this. You’re wet as fuck,” he continues, her thighs smacking into his skin, she hiccups as she nods, “I love being fucked like this. Don’t stop, don’t stop. Don’t stoppp,” she can’t stop whining, becoming more wet with her own words. Toji can’t help but moan in response, slowly slipping from the mask of anger he wears.

The mirror knocks into the wall, Toji bringing his hand back into her hair as he pulls her head backwards, forcing her to look at herself.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, babydoll. Look at yourself,” he talks, Sonali’s eyes closing as she speaks, “Stop it.”

“Believe me. You’re pretty as fuck, baby. Never seen a woman more beautiful. Even in this stupid ass dress,” he grunts.

Sonali can feel herself becoming emotional at his words, a mix of pleasure also collecting in her eyes as tears begin to form. She moans, voice shaky as she replies, “You don’t mean that…”

“I mean every word, ‘Nali. Never loved a woman more than I love your pretty ass. Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he tilts her head more, Sonali lifting her eyes to show her attentiveness. She can see from the mirror as he holds her other leg by the ankle, nearly lifting her hips off of the marble as he drops them down onto his length, Sonali whining loudly as he continues to speak, “Look at my wife. My fuckin’ wife.”

She cries softly at his words, closing her eyes as she pulls them away from the mirror. He keeps going, “So fuckin’ sorry, babydoll…”

She ignores him, moaning softly as he removes himself from her and brings his lips down to her clit, sucking and swirling his tongue against the throbbing in between her legs. She holds his hair in her hands, body becoming immensely tired from his movements. Toji was the opposite. He was only getting started.

She inhales as he then wraps his arms around her waist, picking her up as he then brings them over to the sofa, sitting himself back against the furniture as he sits her against his lap.

He kisses her shoulders, gradually moving up to her throat as he drags his tongue against the skin. Her body shivers from the jewelry in his mouth, always adding an extra touch of pleasure to anything she was feeling. It was a soft touch, but it was enough to make her react. That reaction made him want to keep going. He touches her face as she looks down to him, he thinks she looks adorable, then confidently pulling her face forward as he kissed her. It was always warm, his mouth completely hot against hers. She immediately relaxed into the kiss. They stopped all of their other movements as they were only focused on kissing each other, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed him deeper, an assertiveness coming out from him as he pulled her down, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, allowing Sonali to catch it each time it entered past her lips.

She wasn't sure why her face became slightly warm at his sudden sweetness. Instead of telling him what she wanted, she pulled his lips to her throat as she wanted him to kiss there again, feeling as Toji chuckled at that. She felt the coldness of the piercing return, his hands sliding down to her ass as he squeezed. She gripped his neck, lightly whimpering as he placed his tongue back in her mouth, legs wanting to squeeze shut as she could feel herself becoming aroused even more.

Her body trembles almost embarrassingly. He goes from kissing her to dragging his tongue along her neck. She hides her face within his shoulder as she lightly speaks against his ear, “I want you…” she says softly.

He lets out a soft grunt of satisfaction when he hears her words, smiling as he keeps kissing her on the neck, not being too aggressive, keeping it going at a decent pace.

“You want me, huh?” He teases.

“Yes,” she admits, nodding her head, face completely red. Her breath hitches as he firmly grips her face, pointing her eyes to his as he speaks, “Repeat that to me.”

“I…I want you,” she repeated again, flustered at his aggression.

“Say it louder. Mean it. Tell Daddy you wanna show him how much you love this dick,” he taunts her.

“Baby, please,” she begs, “Don’t be mean,” she pouts. She went to protest again, her mind swarming as he roughly pulled her panties to the side of her ass, holding the thin material. Her mind goes numb as he slightly lifts her up with his other hand, sinking her down onto his length. Her mouth drops open, eyes falling to his as she whines, dropping her face within his shoulder again as she could hear him ask, “What was that?”

His voice sounds more gruff than usual, "Was that a complaint?"

“No…I…fuck,” she curses, unable to finish her sentence as a moan broke through her lips, her arms relaxing around his neck as he picks her up, dropping her back down on his hips. Her eyes nearly roll to the back of her head at the feeling, thighs trembling in response. She couldn’t stop gasping, biting her lip to stop the sounds. She became more aroused with each movement, hips plummeting together as she held onto him, whimpering along his ear.

“I’m waiting for you to show me,” he spanks her, Sonali jumping in response.

She feels her muscles weakening, body becoming sore as she places her hands along his hard stomach, lifting her hips as she slowly brings them back down, moaning softly at the pleasure she feels from doing so. He watches her with hooded eyes, leaning back along the sofa as he only keeps his hands along her back, allowing her to fuck herself.

“F—feels so good…” she repeats, circling her hips down, moving her hair out of her face as she becomes hot.

He was enthralled by her beauty. Her hair was messy around her face, makeup slightly messy as she continued to dig her teeth into her lip. But as his eyes traveled down, his anger began creeping back up as he stared over this damn dress, seeming this caused their entire issue in the first place.

“Let me show you.”

He suddenly places his arms under thighs, lifting her up on his lap as she’s now half-way in the air, Toji bringing her up, slamming her back down, bouncing her against his hips in a way that it caused her to shout. She nearly feels this man in her stomach. She becomes incoherent, Toji arrogantly chuckling as he talks to her with every bounce, “Fuck, baby. Look at you, you’re creaming’,” watching as her arousal appears more on his length with each raise of her hips as he continues talking to her, “This is how I want you. I wanna see you cry,” he keeps going, ignoring the squelching of her opening, Sonali sobbing mercilessly atop of him.

“Tell me how you feel,” he asks.

“I feel so good, so good, so good,” she cries, “Ungh, babbyy.”

“I know, babydoll,” he coos mockingly, “Keep taking my shit so well,” he’s relentless, bringing his hips up to meet the movement he causes, snapping upward to hit her deepest spots.

Sonali places her hand on his leg, leveraging as she begins meeting his rhythm, coming back down onto him as she grinds, “Yes, baby. I love your dick….So much…so fucking much,” she softly cries, barely able to get the words out, “Why are you fucking me like this…”

“‘Cause you asked for it.”

He continues moving his hips with her on top, pressing her down more and more. He slows down, keeping them stationary so that she could feel everything that he’s giving to her, allowing her to experience the moment fully. He takes his hand against her throat, now using that to tug her down, grunting as he feels himself cumming. It happened before he realized, Sonali keeping her eyes closed as a warmth filled her body, trapped in his hold as she continued to drop down on his thighs. Her body could barely take anymore, a feeling of relief almost washing over her at his release.

“Baby, I—“

“I know.”

He pulls out of her, twisting her around so she’s now laid on his lap with her back pressed to his chest. He rubs his hands along her body, squeezing her breast within his hand as he drags his fingers down her stomach, placing both of her legs against each side of his so they’re spread open. Her eyes face the mirror across from them, feeling her face going warm at the sight of them together. He takes his other hand as he places it on her throat, fingers by her inner thigh traveling over to her clit, beginning to rub in circles.

She places her hand along his face as he looks down to her, continuing to rub her clit as she begs, “Kiss me.”

He does. He places his mouth over hers, the both of them dirtily wrapping their tongues around one another, Sonali moaning as his fingers gently trail over her core, rubbing the area in a way that had her feening for more. She lightly raises her hips up, Toji chuckling within her mouth as he feels her become more wet.

“Look at you. My pretty babydoll,” he compliments against her lips, “I’m sorry, baby. I was mean to you, wasn’t I?”

The hand that’s gently against his face begins lightly gripping his jaw as he rubs his fingers faster, whimpering as she nods her head. She attempts to kiss him, her mouth staying agape as he spreads her opening, rubbing one finger directly along her clit.

“I hate this fuckin’ dress,” he groans, “Hate that you look so fuckin’ sexy in it. Hate that other eyes see what’s mine.”

“‘M sorry, baby,” she whimpered against his mouth.

“But they’ll never get to see you like this, will they?”

Her mouth drops open again as he takes his index and middle finger, sinking them inside of her, slowly pulling them out halfway as he sunk them back in. He continued this, pulling her head upwards as she was back to the mirror.

“Crying all over my dick, now crying from my fingers. But you want more,” he moans, feeling his fingers being pulled back inside of her, wanting more. Needing more.

“Squirt on my fingers, baby. Wanna see all of you,” he begs, whimpering himself, “Please.”

Sonali trembles at his words, gripping his neck as she cries, her entire body shuddering as she listens to him slam his fingers within her, soaking the sofa with her arousal. He sticks his tongue in her mouth, laughing arrogantly as she orgasms, writhing against him as she screams. She can’t stop screaming, sobbing out his name as her hips tremble with each thrust of his hand.

“So fucking beautiful. I love you,” he grunts, smashing his lips to hers, “Tell me you fuckin’ love me.”

“I love you so much, Toji,” Sonali cries, her entire body shaking as she continues to orgasm. He holds her as she calms her breathing, her body still trembling as he passionately kisses her again. She’d never felt this much need and desire from him in a while, accepting his kiss as he spanked her opening, laughing within her mouth as she whined, “Stop it.”

“I’m done. I promise,” he chuckles, picking her up so she cradles within his lap. He moves her hair out of her face, gripping her chin as he sees her makeup running down her face, tears still blinking within her eyes.

“You okay?” He softly asks, still feeling her body shuddering, “I didn’t mean to hurt you, babydoll.”

“I’m fine, Toji. Don’t get all sensitive and worrisome,” she brushes him off, wiping her face.

“I didn’t mean anything about the sex. I fucked you stupid, I know you like that,” he says, her face going warm as he continues, “I’m saying in general. I’m really sorry about what I said. I’d never wanna hurt you in that way. I was just…”

He takes a deep breath, “Jealous.”

She frowns, “Jealous?”

“Babydoll, we’ve been together for years. I’ve seen you grow in more ways than one. To be at your full potential and the attention you get from it…it scares me, it scares me that I won’t be enough for you. You’ll continue to grow. The dress just kinda mixed together with the other insecurities I was facing,” he admits.

She sees the vulnerability within his face, pulling her forehead to his as she speaks, “No other man is comparable to you. You’re my heart. Please know that,” she states.

He smiles weakly at her words, kissing her cheek as she continues, “But I have some apologizing to do as well. I should’ve never put my hands on you, no matter how upset I was. And…maybe the dress was a bit much,” she mutters to herself.

“I deserved it. I was a dick. And honestly, I don’t care what you wear, baby. I know you’re gonna come home to me with that damn outfit on. I’ll buy you a thousand of these dresses, fuck you in every single one of them,” he promises, making her giggle as he tickles her with his lips along her neck.

“Maybe I can buy them in mediums next time,” she suggests.

“We can always do the big t-shirt idea,” he also suggests.

She then rolls her eyes, standing from his lap as he pulls the dress down to her upper thighs, a knock coming along the door as a voice shouts, “You’re late, Fushiguro! Round two!”

“You should go,” she reminds, placing the leather jacket over her body as she zips it up halfway, covering the rest of the dress from the bottom. She looks to Toji’s eyes as she sees an amusement in them, glaring as she says, “Don’t say anything.”

“Wasn’t gonna. Until you zipped it up. I must’ve really punished your ass, huh? You’ sore?”

“I’m leaving,” she mutters, making her way to the door. “Maybe I will buy those dresses all in a small. Just to spite you!”

“You’ need another reminder? ‘Cause I can really wear your ass out—“

“No,” she replies, sticking her tongue out, shrieking as he steps forward to grab her.

He then grabs for his gloves and mouthguard, winking at her as she sticks her middle finger up, making her way back downstairs to watch him fight.

“That’s what I thought.”

#toji x black character #toji smut #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk #anime smut #jjk smut #black writers

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satorusugurugurl · 5 months

Note

This is kinda angsty angst. But what about one where reader got into an argument with jjk boy (maybe either satosogu, nanami, or choso) and they stop functioning or start getting reckless during missions and get really hurt. And they have a lil soft smutty smut to show reader that they love them and want them to stay on this planet.

Maybe I Should!

Pairing: Nanami Kento x FAB!Reader

Warnings: Yelling, fighting, blood, near-death experience, makeup, soft sex, fluff at the end, romance,

Word Count: 3,179

A/N: When I got this request, Nanami was the first to come to mind! I love him so much this request was made for him.

“You cannot take this mission!” Nanami snapped, cornering you against a wall. “It's too dangerous!”

“It's a grade-one curse! I'm a grade-one sorcerer; it’s an even match!” You shot back, ducking under his arm, reaching for your bags. “I’m not some fragile flower for you to protect.”

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, following behind you with a scowl. “This is not about me treating you like you’re fragile! I’ve read the case files! I’ve seen the damage that curse had done! This is way out of your league.” The room grew hotter with your growing rage.

“I can handle this!”

“No, you can’t!”

“Yes, I can!”

Nanami’s hand snapped forward, the veins in his arms and wrist flexed as he held onto you firmly. His touch wasn’t painful or too rough; it was gentle, allowing you to pull away at any given moment. For the first time since he told you you shouldn’t go, you stopped, turning to glance up at him. You were expecting to meet pleading eyes begging you not to go, to stay here. That gaze was nowhere to be found. Instead, you were met with a stern, cold look. One that just ticked you off even more.

You looked away as you yanked your wrist from his grasp. “I’m going; I can handle this on my own.” Your boyfriend remained silent. “I’m not one of the children at the high school.” A lump formed in your throat as you tilted your chin to give him a severe glare. “You tend to forget how strong I am. You look at me like I’m some pretty little weak housewife. I’m not!” Nanami scoffed; it was full of annoyance as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yes, I am aware; if you were my housewife, you would have the decency to at least listen to what I have to say!”

“If that’s what you fuckin’ want, maybe you should go out and find yourself a girl like that!”

“Maybe I should!!”

His words were like an ice pick to your gut. Those three words stole the breath from your lungs, rendering you speechless. Nanami’s honey-brown eyes didn’t meet yours; they glared down at the floor as he clenched his jaw so tight you could see the muscles in his neck twitch. You felt tears burning in your eyes; you struggled to find the words to say.

What was there to say? He had said enough. Maybe the two of you had grown apart from the missions you both kept taking. Perhaps this fight was the end of you and him.

“Love, I didn’t mean—“

“You did.” His eyes finally met yours; they were wide, full of confusion and regret. “You meant every word.” Tears blurred your vision as you wiped angrily at your eyes. “I have a plane to catch; let’s put a pin in—“ you motioned between the two of you. “us ending our relationship right now. I can’t focus on it when I have a mission.”

“Wait!” Nanami called out your name before you stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door.

The conversation, well, the fight, plagued your mind the entire way to Okinawa. His words, the anger that twisted over his face. Thinking of his reaction was a bundled mess of doubt and heartache that sat upon your chest and clouded your mind.

‘Maybe I should!’

Anger fumed within the deepest part of your soul as you lowered a veil around the abandoned shrine you were sent to cleanse. Maybe he should pull his head out of his ass! You weren’t that same high schooler that was a year younger than him! You didn’t run off to be a businessman! You stuck it out and got more scars than you could count! So maybe he should realize you could take care of yourself!

Your fuming anger blinded you as you walked through the halls, glaring around corners, trying to sense the energy of this stupid curse. But Nanami’s stupid face, the rage, regret, the sorrowfulness in his eyes when he said, ‘Maybe I should,’ left his lips crossed your mind. He turned pale when you told him you would discuss ending your relationship. Thinking about him, about what was to come for the two of you, had you stopping in your tracks.

Ending things with Nanami was the last thing you wanted to do. But he needed to come to terms with the fact that you weren’t as weak as he thought. You were as strong as him; you could handle missions independently—even grade-one curses.

A grade-one curse that came out of nowhere and slammed you against the wall so hard you saw black spots. A wheezed, pained gasp escaped you as your eyes widened in shock. It is a curse made out of thick thorns, garbling and swaying. You moved as fast as your body would allow, a thorny arm slashing over your back, causing a wretched scream to crawl up your throat as you ducked and rolled behind a pillar.

Blood soaks into your shirt, coating the fabric as you pull out your talisman paper. Using blood from your cheek, you scribble out ‘purify’ over the parchment before embedding your cursed energy into it. Blue energy flowed around it as you rolled out from behind the pillar, tossing it towards the cursed spirit. Despite the fact the talisman was written on paper, your cursed technique made all your talismans hit your targets like daggers.

As your talisman struck the curse in the center of the face, it screamed in pain before it dissipated into black smoke, fading away. You let out a pained whine as you limped forward, glaring down at its fading form. But as its mouth began to fade, it laughed. It was a laugh that made your skin crawl and goosebumps rise over your skin. Something wasn’t right about this.

Whirling around, you were met face-to-face with another thorn-cursed spirit. This one was larger and stronger than the last. Nanami’s words from earlier ran through your veins like ice.

‘I’ve read the case files! I’ve seen the damage this curse has done!’

Little did the both of you know, this curse turned out to be curses—two of them, both grade one. The first one was strong, but this one, this one was crazy stupid strong. If you didn't move, you'd be killed. You rushed forward, reaching for more paper in your pocket, only to be thrown across the floor, your head hitting the floor with a heavy crack!

With blurry vision, you slowly sat up before collapsing forward as the curse rushed towards you. Thorn-covered limbs and vines wrapped around your legs, yanking you towards it. Its mouth opened, and a large tongue lolled out as you hit the ground with every yank. You screamed in defiance, kicking and screaming, tearing your flesh on the thorns, fighting to grab a piece of parchment out. The curse only seemed to enjoy your pitiful wails as you wrapped around you tighter, its tongue slowly sliding up your back as you drew closer towards its mouth.

That was its first mistake; as it brought inches near its open mouth, you roared, slamming a talisman onto its tongue. The paper burned with cursed energy before the kanji ‘purification flames’ lit up, engulfing the curse in blue fire. As it burned, its grip on you loosened, freeing and allowing you to crawl back, watching it thrash and scream.

You stared into the flames, wheezing roughly as you groaned. A see-through version of Nanami stood there, glaring down at you in disapproval as you struggled to stand. The Nanami said nothing as you gripped your side with a weak chuckle.

“S-See, I was f-fine.” you limped forward, “I could handle it.” Nanami shook his head. “Dead as a doorna-Gaaahk!” Blood spurted from your mouth as a stabbing pain shot through your stomach. Stumbling, you looked down with blurry vision at a large blackthorn emerging from your abdomen. Your blood dripped onto the ground as the throne turned to ash.

‘You were reckless.’ The Nanami before you watched as you fell to your knees, your hands clasped firmly over your bleeding wound. ‘Reckless, weak, not even worthy of being a housewife.’

Either his words or the pain had you collapsing onto your side, blood bubbling out of your mouth. Nanami, your Nanami would never say that. Iron flooded your taste and smell as you watched Nanami fade. Nita came rushing in, falling to her knees and shaking you as you stared weakly into the distance.

Perhaps you should have listened to him instead of fighting with him. He was only looking out for you, trying to keep you safe. But you had taken his adoration and concern for you as him seeing you incapable of taking this dangerous mission on. A weak laugh escaped you as you felt Nita dragging you, screaming into a phone.

Maybe being a housewife wouldn't be that bad. It might have been fun. But you would never get to experience that. Your body was too cold as blood seeped out through your fingers as someone pulled you into a car. Your name turned into humming as you shut your eyes.

“Darling,”

“Hm?” You asked, opening your eyes before shifting slightly against the warm body you were snuggling.

“Hi,” Kento reached down, stroking your cheek with one hand while he held a book in the other. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mhmm.” you snuggled into his side, breathing in the smell of salt water. “I had a terrible nightmare. I almost died.”

Kento’s warm hand brushed gently over your cheek. “It’s a good thing it was only a dream.” He whispered, bring your face up to him. “I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, love.”

“Mhm, I love you, Kento.”

“And I love you.”

Slowly lifting your head, you grinned at him as he kissed you deeply. He was sitting on a beach towel under an umbrella. The sound of ocean waves crashing over the shore had you fading further into the reality you had made. Where you and Nanami finally got out of Japan and made a life on a tiny island somewhere far away.

A beach somewhere far away, where you could spend your days walking the shore, enjoying the sweet ocean air. This was a place where Nanami could be free. Somewhere far, far away from all the blood and death the two of you had faced—a little slice of heaven.

And it was a reality that didn't exist.

Blinking in your summer oasis, your vision became clearer. Ocean waves turned into the chirping of medical machines and heavy snoring. The warmth of the sand was the warmth of blankets covering you. And the smell of Nanami was because your boyfriend was sleeping in a chair beside your hospital bed.

Disorientation overcame you as you sat up, wincing at the stiffness of muscles and pain in your stomach. Your mouth was too dry, and your head was pounding. What had happened? Where were you? How long have you been out?

“Ken?” your voice was hoarse and broken, but the man next to you jolted.

Dark circles had formed under his eyes as he jumped out of his chair, his hands cupping your face. His honey-brown eyes, which had been filled with anger the last time you saw him, were now filled with utter relief. He pulled you into his chest, his hands gently stroking your hair back as you shuddered, a sob working his way up his throat.

“I thought I lost you.” He whispered, his voice broken. “I almost fuckin’ lost you.”

His relief was contagious; you felt yourself easing into him, crying softly into his chest as he crawled into the bed with you. His arms gently wrap around you, cradling you into his body. No words needed to be spoken; the touch and sobs you both shared conveyed every regret and emotion you both had been feeling.

You were lucky to be alive, thanks to Nita’s quick work and the work of the doctors at the local hospital. They kept you in a stable condition long enough for Shoko and Nanami to take the soonest plane to Okinawa. Shoko helped speed up the healing process, and you were released three days later. During those three days, neither you nor Nanami brought up the previous fight. Which you were grateful for until he helped you into your shared apartment. As he shut the door, placing your bags in the living room, you sighed.

“Kento, we need to talk.”

“Yes, we do.” he agreed, following you into the bedroom, where the two of you sat on the bed. “I would like to—”

“No, I'm going to start.” You interrupted, placing a hand on his chest. “Kento, I-I’m so sorry I acted as I did. I was frustrated and angry, and—” You swallowed hard, “I realized you were only looking out for me, and instead of taking your words to heart, I twisted them into something they weren't. S-So if you want to end this, to find a more ideal partner, I understand.”

Nanami gently interlaced his fingers with yours. “I said some terrible things myself. I know you're strong, love, and capable of going on missions and taking care of yourself. But I will always tell you the truth. If something looks difficult to me, that says a lot.” The truth hurts as you nod, swallowing even harder. “That being said, my agreement to find a more suitable housewife was immature and moronic of me. You're the only wife I want in my life.”

He cupped your cheeks, kissing you as softly as he could. “K-Kento? You mean that?” The words came out as a blubbering mess as he laid you down on the bed, fingers grazing under your shirt.

“Every single word, I love you; you're the only wife I want.”

“I-I love you too, Kento.”

Nanami gently pushed you back against the bed, his lips trailing down your neck as his hands gently ran up and down your sides. “I want to worship every part of your body.” Hands slid under your shirt, gently grabbing the fabric, tugging it up and over your head. “You're such a beautiful love. I adore you; you're the best thing that ever happened to me.”

You shivered as his hands trailed over the large scar on your stomach, gently caressing it. “K-Kento~” He sat back, allowing you to remove his shirt before he trailed kisses over every single inch of exposed skin.

“I want to make love to you. I need to caress you,

Feel you, and adore you.”

Nanami trailed kisses over your shoulders as he slotted himself between your legs with a groan. Seeing the arch you squirmed and arched against him was all the encouragement Nanami needed to keep going. He slid his hand into your panties, gently rubbing circles around your clit, making you buck against his hand.

“I can't lose you; I need you in my life.” His sweet words had you moaning louder than his fingers plunging inside of you. “It’s you; it’ll always be you, baby.”

Nanami was true to his words. He worshiped you with his tongue, fingers, and lips. Bringing you over the edge countless times before he finally began passing his thick girthy cock into you with a groan. Once the tip is inside, you both inhale sharply. Your eyes were boring into each other, fingers interlacing.

The air is thick with lust and passion as Nanami slowly sets a steady pace. He was continuing to slide into you before he finally bottomed out. His back muscles twitched as he groaned against your lips, staying buried inside of you as you lazily kissed each other.

“B-Babbyy~”

“Y-You feel so good inside of me, Kento~”

“And you feel fucking perfect wrapped around me, my love.” His lips find yours, slotting against yours in a deep passionate kiss; the sweet lingering fast of coffee and sweetbreads flood your mouth as he starts thrusting deeply into your tight pussy with a grunt.

Nanami is slowly and sensually fucking into you. His mouth against yours, both your whines and moans getting lost in the other's mouth: you had made life countless times before, but this time was different. It was different because Nanami put his entire heart and soul into each kiss and thrust. He was cautious of how tight he squeezed your fingers while paying attention to the quest your body gave him. The man was putting his everything into his movements.

And you could taste it, god, it was so sweet. The gentleness, the softness in his groans as he gently rocked into you. While his hands gently caressed you. This was perfect; it was the literal embodiment of true love. A love that you would never in a million years let slip away.

“K-Kento~ I-Im not going to last m-much longer.”

“Me neither.” he gasped against your mouth as his hips bucked faster, the bed creaking under the two of you with his thrusts. “Cum with me~ I need to feel you cum around my cock~ I need to feel it~ please love, please~”

“K-Ken~! Ken~!” You cried out in-between kisses as he fucked you into an intense orgasm. He gritted his teeth as your walls pulsated around him, drawing him over the edge with you. Your name left his lips like a prayer as he filled you with his cum fucking it as deep as your body would allow.

Kenton only stopped when you both were a sweaty heap of entangled limbs. “M-Mmm, fuck, I love you,” Kento whispered, pushing strands of your hair out of your face. “I love you so damn much~ please don't ever leave me.” he pressed his head against yours, breathing in every breath you exhaled as you both came down from your orgasmic bliss.

“I-I won't.” You whispered against his lips as he moved, grabbing your left hand. “I swear, Nanami.”

He shifted, reaching for something under his pillow. Your heart lurched as you felt him slide a ring onto your finger. Glancing down at it, you choked on your gasp as a glittering diamond ring shone on your finger.

“Say it again.”

“I swear I'll never leave you.” you kissed him deeply. “I love you~ I love you so much~!”

“I love you too, god I love you.” Nanami kissed you, his future wife, as hard as possible without hurting you. “We’ll be together forever.” His hips rocked gently into you.

You made love all day. Gently kissing each other until you both finally laid down to rest in the last afternoon. Nanami softly snored as he held you, and you just laid there, basking in the afterglow of sex and the elation of being engaged. Your diamond ring glittered in the sunlight shining through the window before you curled into Nanami’s chest, sighing happily.

Being with him like this, was your own personal paradise that you never wanted to leave.

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