#lockedup!toji

[animamii]

"Fushiguro, that's your girl?" One of Toji's block mates asks, eyeing one of the many pictures Toji had of you taped to the slate gray brick wall. It was a simple picture, your hair was wavy in this one, a cute dimply smile, lashes curled as you looked all natural. But god, were you still stunning. Toji looks up from the thing he was doing, sitting in the steel chair that was bolted down to the floor.

"Yup, that's my ol' lady," looking up at the picture he can't help but proudly smile. Toji's wall is covered in pictures. Of you, of Megumi. The whole family. Cute pictures you took with each other before he got locked up. It was his motivation to stay straight while being inside. To remind him of what's waiting for him when he gets out.

The block mate lets out a low whistle, nodding approvingly as he leans back against the cold wall. “Damn. She bad.” His celly's eyes roam over the pictures. Ones where you're dressed up all pretty, makeup done perfectly. Ones where you're wrapped around one of Toji's arms, looking up at him with all the adoration in the world. Even the ones that show just a little too much, which Toji keeps right next to where he lays his head.

Toji chuckles, shaking his head. “Watch it.” There’s no real threat in his voice, but there’s an edge of warning that makes the other guy hold his hands up in surrender.

“Ain’t mean no disrespect, Fushiguro,” he says, still looking at the pictures. “Just sayin’. You lucky.”

Toji doesn’t need to be told that. He already knows. It’s what gets him through the long nights, the endless hum of fluorescent lights, the hostility of the barbed wire that separates him from the outside. Knowing you're out there, waiting, is the only thing that keeps him from losing his damn mind.

He leans back against the desk he sits in front of, arms folding across his broad chest, eyes fixed on the pictures. His ol’ lady. His girl. His anchor in a life that never gave him much stability.

A slow smirk tugs at his lips. He can still hear your voice, that soft, teasing lilt whenever you’d call him by his full name just to mess with him. “Toji Fushiguro,” you’d say, dragging it out, pretending to scold him, even though your eyes always gave you away. He lived for those moments.

“Bet she writin’ you, huh?” the block mate asks. “You get letters?”

Toji nods. “Every week.” And he does. Neatly folded pages that smell like you, inked with words that remind him that he’s still human. That he’s still yours. That he still has something waiting for him beyond these walls. But god, does he miss you.

“Damn,” the block mate mutters, shaking his head in disbelief. “Every week? That’s real love right there.”

Toji just smirks again, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper, edges worn from being opened and closed too many times. He doesn’t even need to read it again—he’s already memorized every damn word—but still, he unfolds it, running a calloused thumb over the handwriting. Your handwriting.

Hey, baby. I know you hate when I get all mushy, but I don’t care. I miss you. I miss you so much it drives me crazy sometimes. But I’ll wait. However long it takes, I’ll wait. You better be eating, staying out of trouble, and keeping that smart-ass mouth in check. (Okay, maybe not too much. You know I love that about you.)

Toji chuckles to himself, shaking his head. Yeah, you knew him too damn well.

Megumi misses you too, even if he acts all tough about it. You should’ve seen his face when I told him your letter came. He’s just like you, y’know? Won’t say how he really feels, but it’s all there in his eyes.

Toji swallows hard, jaw clenching. Megumi. His kid. Another reason for pushing through this hellhole. He pictures him—too serious for his own good, but with those same sharp blue eyes. His boy.

“Yo, Fushiguro,” another voice calls out, snapping him from his thoughts. One of the guards. “Mail just came in.”

Toji is already up before the guy even finishes his sentence, heart pounding just a little faster. The guard hands the baby pink envelope with a lazy flick of the wrist, and Toji snatches it up quick, already recognizing the familiar scrawl of his name across the front.

His block mate lets out a laugh. “Man, look at you. Actin’ like a kid on Christmas.” Toji was always stoic, kept to himself and never showed much emotion. But hey, you always brought it out of him and he wasn't gonna front or hold a facade when it came to how he felt about you.

Toji doesn’t respond. He just sits back down, thumbs sliding under the flap of the envelope, tearing it open like it’s the only thing keeping him breathing in this godforsaken place. The first thing that falls out is a polaroid. His breath catches. It’s you.

You're sitting by a window, sunlight spilling over your skin, that soft, gentle smile on your lips. His girl. His sweetheart. Looking at him like she sees something in him that even he has trouble believing in sometimes. And just like that, the walls of the prison don’t feel so damn suffocating. He’s got something to hold onto.

Toji runs a thumb over the polaroid, like he could somehow feel you through it. The picture is warm, soft, a stark contrast to the cold steel and concrete around him. He exhales through his nose, staring at it for a long moment before finally unfolding the letter.

Your words hit him like they always do—gentle, teasing, but full of something deeper. Something that reminds him why he’s still holding on.

Hey, baby. I hope you’re not making the guards’ lives too hard. (Who am I kidding? I know you are.) It’s been getting colder here. I keep stealing your hoodie, the one you always say is yours but smells like me now. Tough luck, Fushiguro, it’s mine until you come back and take it from me.

Toji smirks, shaking his head. She’s gonna pay for that one.

Megumi’s been doing good in school, but I had to threaten to ground him just to get him to eat something other than instant ramen. He’s stubborn, just like his old man.

His smirk fades a little. He can picture it—Megumi sitting at the dinner table, arms crossed, trying to act like he doesn’t care. Just like Toji used to. The guilt settles in his chest, heavy and unshakable. He just wishes he could be there. For the both of you.

We miss you. I miss you.

He stops, lingering on that line. Simple, but enough to send a slow ache through his ribs.

I don’t care how long it takes. You come back to me, Toji. We’re waiting.

Toji exhales sharply, pressing the paper between his fingers, his grip a little too tight.

“Damn,” his block mate mutters, watching him. “She really ridin’ for you, huh?”

Toji just nods. He doesn’t need to say anything. He folds the letter carefully, tucking it away with the others. Getting up, he sticks some tape of the back of the polaroid, putting it up next to the rest of the pictures. Then he leans back in his chair, looking up at the mosaic of pictures you send him.

Yeah. She’s waiting. And he sure as hell isn’t gonna let her down.

[yvesdoee]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ jujutsu kaisen fic recommendations ( sfw ! ) ft. gojo , geto , nanami , toji

hi ! :) these are my personal recommendations, might contain suggestive content but nothing too explicit. and these are mostly drabbles because it’s hard to find swf oneshots or series, i’m sorry :3 also most of the fics are fluff

╰┈➤ gojo satoru

✧.* the great war ( @satorulovebot ) got me FUCKING SOBBING THIS IS NOT OKAY. don’t read this in a good mood, it will ruin your day ( not in a bad way tho, this is so good, one of my favs on this app, dk why this isn’t popular )

✧.* how to fake date a doctor ( @lostfracturess ) i know there is a really suggestive content(no smut tho), but :( it’s too wonderful

✧.* i know you still think about the times we had ( @/saetoru ) angstyy but happy ending

✧.* we can dip, if you’re ready ( @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat ) unrequited love trope is one of my favorites ….

✧.* yandere!gojo ( @gojoest ) i’m not usually into yandere stuff, but this drabble is really good

✧.* this is home ( ryowritten ) this is rb link because the original blog isn’t available, i’m sorry. but you should definitely read this

✧.* husband!satoru x pregnant!reader ( @sanemistar ) this is soo so sweet ;(

✧.* crybaby ( @suhtorus ) another sweet tooth rotting drabble

✧.* dad!satoru ( @cute-sucker ) aaand another one!

✧.* #needthis ( @kentwos ) this is not the title .. lol

╰┈➤ fushuguro toji

✧.* valentines day ( @lemonlover1110 ) ft. megumi fushiguro ;)

✧.* argument ( @lymtw ) reader is SO ME …… ugh i love hurt/comfort (also read author’s other works please they’re amazing)

✧.* lockedup!fushiguro ( @animamii ) please read this series, this is veryyy good

✧.* bad dream ( @stellawish ) i love love dad!toji

✧.* toji fushiguro is no blind man ( @kissitbttr ) veery suggestive but also very good ;)

✧.* dad!toji drabble ( @kashverse ) this person got a huge amount of fluff drabbles of many characters and their works are freaking amazing

✧.* toji fushiguro had no intentions of getting married again ( @starmapz ) i’m actually rereading it like once in three days no jokes

✧.* olderboyfriend!toji ( @tojibnuy ) i audibly giggled btw

✧.* acts of service ( @levisjinchuriki ) like i said , i love hurt/comfort and this oneshot is amazing

✧.* toji with pregnant wife ( @onehundredelevven ) ughh this is so cute i’m gonna die

✧.* when you caught flowers on the wedding ( @pepperyduck ) it made me want to attend someone's wedding …unfortunately i've never been to one 🥲

✧.* one step forward, two steps back ( @jjk4isen ) this is just cruel.

╰┈➤ nanami kento

✧.* jealous nanami ( @shebrewscoffee ) this is SO nanami i love it

✧.* olderhusband!nanami ( @vampyhvnt ) this is canon actually ….

✧.* evening walks were sacred in the nanami household ( @kashverse )

✧.* nanami is part danish ( @iid-smile ) this is very sweet i’m actually exploded

✧.* his protégé ( @augustinewrites )

✧.* my wife ( @chastiefoul ) you could tell nanami is very married

✧.* heart attack ( @iid-smile )

✧.* disturbed sleep ( @iid-smile )

✧.* nanami bittersweet ( @/creamflix ) i’m sorry this is a rb link too .. and this one HURTS

✧.* the secret wife ( @chuluoyi ) hehe i love this .. you should also read love entries ( gojo ) from this author <3 this is very good

✧.* yuji after anesthesia ( @unabletonotlovesatoru ) this is healing my btw ..

╰┈➤ geto suguru

✧.* the paint doesn’t move the way the light reflects ( @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat ) OOH I LOVE LOVE ROYALTY AU AND THIS IS SO SWEET AND CUTE OMG

✧.* i love you, i love you (kill me in the morning) ( @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat )

✧.* six degrees of separation ( @starmapz ) best geto series imo ….

✧.* i crumble completely when you cry ( @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat ) arctic monkeys mentioned ⁉️ but seriously this is AWESOME also if you want some good geto fics please check this blog and read their works

✧.* i dream, now, of a normal life with you ( @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat )

✧.* suguru drabble ( @jjk4isen )

✧.* baby, my baby ( @sugudoe ) this is a smau including geto, gojo and nanami, AND THIS IS SOO AMAZING LIKE OML did i mentioned that i LOVE hurt/comfort ??

✧.* twin dad and teacher geto ( @slttygeto )

✧.* teacher!geto with pregnant wife ( @slttygeto ) teacher suguru ..teacher suguru ….

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE WORKS ! ALL CREDITS TO THE AUTHORS <3

[animamii]

even while locked up, Toji will make Valentine's day special for you. He already has a letter sent to you every day leading up to the 14th. Some of them sweet, romantic. Others just straight up dirty. He also has Shiu get you some things, spending the money he has in an offshore bank account.

February 1st

There's a ring at your doorbell, and you sleepily open the door.

"Shiu!" You happily greet before you realize he's holding one of those giant ass bouquets of roses. One of those ramos buchones with the pretty gemstones and your initial spelled out with baby's breath. Flashy as hell. "What's all this?"

"Jus' read the damn letter," he nods to a red envelope, a cigarette dangling out his mouth but away from your precious gift. Toji would kill him even from the inside if he were to find out Shiu got even the slightest of ashes on his girl's gifts. You take the envelope, tracing your name written in Toji’s bold, messy scrawl. You barely close the door before sliding your finger under the seal.

Didn’t forget, baby. I never do. First day, first gift. You better love it. Had Shiu pick out the biggest, most ridiculous thing I could find. My princess only deserves the best, right?

February 2nd

The letter today is simple. Too simple.

Baby, I hope you didn’t think I’d only spoil you with flowers.

Your stomach twists in anticipation. Later that day, you hear a knock. This time, it’s a delivery service. You sign for a package, confusion written all over your face—until you open it. Inside is a velvet box. You slowly open it, and it catches the light, casting rays of color—a necklace, a gold figaro chain with a diamond pendant. Looking closer at the pendant makes your breath hitch.

His initials.

You press your lips together, heart thudding. The note beneath it is shorter this time.

Wear it. Every day. I’ll know if you don’t.

February 3rd

On your front porch it a tiny pink box with another letter perched on top. You open the box first, the whole collection of a lip gloss you wear, one Toji said was his favorite because he loves the scent and the taste when he kisses it off your lips.

I was gonna wait, but fuck it. You know I don’t have patience. I’ve been thinking about you too much, baby. Can’t sleep. Can’t focus. All I can think about is that pretty mouth of yours.

You don’t even finish reading before you slam the letter shut. Your face is on fire. He’s ridiculous. But your fingers linger on the page, gripping it tight. You’re not going to reread it. You’re not.

February 4th

Another gift. This time, it’s a designer perfume. You spray it on your wrist out of curiosity, inhaling the scent—rich, warm, deep. A little spicy yet still sweet. Just like you. A folded note is stuck in the packaging.

This is how I want you to smell when I have you under me.

You hate the way your breath catches. The way you tighten your grip on the bottle, as if that’ll stop the way his words sink under your skin.

February 5th

Shiu hands you the next letter without a word. You expect something dirty again, but instead—

You been eating, baby? Sleeping? You better be taking care of yourself. I’ll be real pissed if I find out you’re not.

You blink at the paper, stomach twisting. You don’t even like that he makes you feel this way. Cared for. Wanted. As soon as you look up, Shiu hands you the bags from behind his back. It's takeout from the place you always went to with Toji. Your favorites are inside, every single thing down to the drink. You knew Toji meticulously picked out each menu item. In the other bag Shiu hands you is self care items. Your creams and serums and even the face masks you force Toji to wear with you.

February 6th

You shouldn’t be looking forward to these letters as much as you do. But you do. This one is short.

You dream about me? Bet you do. Wonder if you wake up wet, missing my hands.

You rip it up, toss it in the trash.

Then, minutes later, you dig it back out, smoothing out the pieces.

You hate him.

February 7th

Another knock at the door. Another gift. This time, it's a dress—silky, short, scandalous.

The note?

Wear this when you come see me.

Your breath catches. He hasn’t mentioned seeing you yet, hasn’t even implied it. But now, it lingers in the air.

February 8th

A different kind of letter today.

If I was there right now, what would you do?

You should throw it away.

Instead, that night, you sit on your bed, staring at it in the dim glow of your bedside lamp, heart pounding in your chest.

February 9th

A small box sits outside your door in the morning. This time it's a velvet pouch. You pull the string, letting the contents slide onto your palm—an anklet, delicate gold with a tiny charm dangling off the chain. This one matches your necklace, his initials are on this one too. You don’t even hesitate this time. You clasp it around your ankle immediately.

This one's gonna be dangling over my shoulder soon.

February 10th

Shiu shows up again. Another box.

Inside? Lingerie.

Red. Lace.

The note is just one line.

Think about me when you put it on.

February 11th

You better be missing me, baby. I know you are.

This time the gift is a whole outfit. One of those flowy white maiden-style off the shoulder dresses, pretty sandals, and even an innocent enough white bra and panty set with cute little bows.

It doesn't go with the letter, which leaves you a tad bit confused.

February 12th

This letter is filthy.

Explicit enough that you don’t even know how he got it past whoever checks his mail.

You have to sit down after reading it.

And take a very cold shower.

February 13th

Another envelope. You open it, expecting a letter. But nope. Just a single ticket to Italy for February 15th. Weird.

February 14th

A single rose sits outside your door, a final letter tucked beneath it.

You should know by now to lock your windows, ma. Don't know what kind of scary men could climb through your window.

What the?? Slowly you turn around, and there he is, in the flesh. All smug and cute like he knows he did a damn good job at surprising you.

"Happy Valentine's Day princess."

[animamii]

letter from lockedup!Toji that goes along with this drabble ‎♡‧₊˚

...Beautiful, I just want you to know; you're my favorite girl...

— Beautiful~~Snoop dogg + Pharrel

‎

Hey, princess.

Got your letter today. Been reading it over and over, like I always do. I swear, these pages are the only thing keeping me sane in here. When everything else in this place feels like it’s closing in, I got your words, your handwriting, the way I can almost hear your voice saying all this to me. It keeps me steady. Keeps me from losing my head.

And that picture you sent? Fuck. You tryin’ to kill me in here? I swear, if these walls weren’t in the way, I’d be home already. You look good, baby. Too good. Almost makes me mad that other people get to see you like this when I can’t. But I know you’re mine. Always have been. Always will be.

You don’t even gotta try, and you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Sitting there, all sweet, all perfect. Makes me crazy knowing I can’t reach out and touch you, pull you into me, feel your skin, hear you laugh in my ear. It ain’t fair. But I guess nothing ever has been for me. Except you. You’re the one thing in this world that ever felt like it was mine. I don’t say this enough, probably don’t say half the shit you deserve to hear, but I need you to know that. You ain’t just my girl. You’re my peace, my home, the only thing I’ve ever been afraid to lose. And that’s saying something.

I laughed when I read about Megumi and his damn ramen obsession. Stubborn little punk. I wonder where he gets it from. (Yeah, yeah, don’t say shit—I know.) Tell him I said to listen to his stepma, eat a real meal, and quit acting like he doesn’t miss me. I know how he is. Pretends he don’t care, but I bet if I walked through that door tomorrow, he’d be the first one running to me. He won’t say it, but you can see it in his eyes. Just like his old man. Make sure he’s eating real food, alright? He might act like he don’t care, but I know he listens to you. Probably more than he ever listened to me.

And you. You better be taking care of yourself too. Are you sleeping? Eating? Taking care of yourself? I know how you get—running around, worrying about everyone else, not stopping to breathe. You always got so much to worry about, but you forget you’re supposed to take care of you too. I don’t wanna hear that you’re running on empty, staying up too late, stressing yourself out. You always act tough, but I know you, baby. I know when you’re holding too much inside. I know when you need me. And I swear to you, I’m coming back.

You tell me you’ll wait. That you don’t care how long it takes. But, baby, I care. Every second in here is a goddamn eternity. Every night I go to sleep thinking about you, and every morning I wake up counting down the days until I can get back to you. And I will. No matter what I gotta do, no matter how long it takes, I will get home to you.And when I do? You better be ready. Because I’m never letting you out of my sight again. You hear me? You’re stuck with me, forever.

Wait for me just a little longer. I love you. More than I’ll ever be able to put into words.

Toji

[animamii]

Part deux of Toji's Valentine's Surprise

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Your body locks up. Your breath stills. Toji—in the flesh—is standing in your living room, looking smug as hell, arms crossed over that broad chest like he knew he just rocked your entire world.

"You should see your face, princess," he chuckles, tilting his head. "Like you seen a ghost."

Your mind is racing. He’s supposed to be locked up. This is impossible. And yet—he’s here. Solid. Tangible. Real. Smirking at you like he didn’t just pull off the stunt of the century.

"You—" You inhale sharply, fists clenching at your sides. "How—" You don’t even finish the question before you smack his chest, hard enough to make your palm sting. He doesn’t even flinch, just grins like he enjoys the reaction.

"Miss me, baby?" His voice drops, smooth and teasing. Still the cocky bastard he's always been.

"Are you insane?" Your voice comes out breathless, uneven. "You’re supposed to be—"

Toji hums, unfazed. "Supposed to be what?" He steps closer, looming over you with that tantalizing smirk he always adorns. his presence thick and heavy—dangerous and intoxicating. "Locked up? Far away from my girl? Mmm, nah. That was never gonna last."

His girl. That shouldn’t make your stomach flip the way it does. Especially after all this time, but it does.

"You’re reckless," you breathe out, but your voice betrays you—too soft, too shaky. You forgot just how little he made you feel, like a little lamb standing in front of the big bad wolf.

"Yeah?" He reaches out, fingers brushing along your jaw, tilting your chin up. "And yet here I am, standing in front of you. Right where I belong." You swallow hard, heart hammering against your chest. His thumb traces your bottom lip, a touch so familiar, so effortlessly possessive, it makes your knees weak.

"Say it," he murmurs, eyes hooded. "Say you missed me."

You hate how easy it is for him to unravel you. How he knows you did. Toji leans in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, "Or do I gotta remind you how bad you missed me?"

Your breath catches. You should shove him away. Should demand answers. Should do anything other than what you do next—fisting his shirt and yanking him down into a teeth clashing kiss.

Toji chuckles against your lips, the sound low and deep, like he expected this reaction all along. His hands—warm, calloused, and oh so familiar—find your waist, pulling you flush against him. It’s been too long, and your body betrays you, melting into his touch as if he never left.

"You’re crazy," you whisper, looking up at him with those wide eyes that he's always loved.

He grins, lips ghosting over your jaw before pressing a slow, lingering kiss just below your ear. "You say that like it’s a bad thing."

Your fingers tighten around his shirt, the fabric bunching between your fists. "It is," you hiss, but your body betrays you, tilting toward him when he moves. "You—Toji, you broke out—do you have any idea—"

"Shhh." He silences you with another kiss, deeper this time, his grip tightening around your waist. "We can talk later."

You should be more worried. Should push him away, demand answers, tell him this is reckless and insane. But the moment his hands slip lower, gripping your thighs and lifting you effortlessly, you’re wrapping yourself around him, letting him carry you to the bedroom like you knew this was how tonight would end. It was Valentine's Day after all.

Toji kicks the door shut behind him, smirking down at you as he lays you on the bed. His eyes—sharp, dark, hungry—roam over you like he’s memorizing every inch all over again.

"Missed you," he mutters, voice rough, as his hands slide up your thighs, pushing that silky dress higher.

You swallow, lips parted as you try to catch your breath. "You’re insane," you whisper again, but it comes out weaker this time, more breathless.

Toji smirks, dipping his head until his lips brush against yours again. "And yet," he murmurs, voice thick with amusement and something darker, "you’re still here. Wrapped around me like you never want me to leave."

You shudder. "I hate you."

He laughs, a quiet, knowing sound, before pressing his lips to your throat. "Liar."

Your breath stutters when his lips drag down the column of your throat, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment. Like he knows he has all the time in the world. His grip tightens on your thighs, his body pressed between them, and it’s infuriating—the way he’s taking his time, the way he’s acting like he never left. Like he never spent months locked up, sending you teasing, filthy little letters to remind you he still owned you.

"Toji—"

"Shhh, baby," he murmurs against your skin, voice thick with amusement. "S’been too long. Lemme take my time with you."

He’s impossible. Infuriating. But your body betrays you, arching into his touch, fingers threading through his dark hair as he kisses his way lower. You hate how much you missed him—hate how, despite every part of you screaming that this is reckless, stupid, you can’t bring yourself to stop him.

"You’re a wanted man," you remind him breathlessly, grasping onto some semblance of control, but Toji just grins, his teeth grazing over your collarbone before he presses a kiss there.

"Yeah? And?" His fingers hook under the hem of your dress, sliding it higher. "That stop you from wanting me?"

You glare at him, but the effect is ruined when he tugs the fabric over your hips, leaving you bare beneath him. Your pulse pounds, heat rushing to your cheeks, and Toji just chuckles, gaze darkening as he drinks you in.

"Fuck, baby," he rasps, running his hands up your thighs, rough fingers making you shiver. "Been waitin’ for this. Dreamin’ about this."

You should push him away. Should demand answers. But instead, your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him back down until his mouth crashes against yours. All that could wait for later, right?

Toji groans into your mouth when you pull him down, all teasing amusement vanishing as his body presses flush against yours. His hands are rough, calloused from years of fights and cold aridness of prison, but they touch you with a hunger and gentle warmth that makes your breath hitch. His knee slots between your legs, pressing just enough to make you whimper, and he smirks against your lips.

"Missed me that bad, huh?" His voice is thick with pride, like he knows what he’s doing to you. Like he couldn't wait to make you melt like this.

You glare at him, chest heaving and lips glossy with swapped saliva. "Shut up, Toji."

He chuckles, low and dark, before flipping you onto your stomach in one swift movement. A startled gasp escapes you as he presses his weight against your back, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

"That any way to talk to the man who just risked everything to see you?" His voice is silk and gravel, smooth yet dangerous, sending a shiver straight down your spine.

You swallow hard, pressing your palms against the sheets, heart hammering. "You’re insane."

"Yeah?" His hands slide down your sides, slow, possessive. "And yet here you are, lettin’ an insane man touch you like this."

You open your mouth to snap at him, but then he bites down on your shoulder, just enough to make your breath stutter. You feel his smirk against your skin, feel the way his grip tightens like he’s testing you, waiting for you to fight him, to push him away. But you don’t. Instead, you press back against him, feeling the way his body stiffens for a brief second before a deep, pleased growl rumbles in his chest.

"Fuck," he mutters, voice raspier now. "That’s my girl."

Your stomach flips. Your fingers curl into the sheets.

"Toji—"

His hand slides under your chin, tilting your head just enough for his lips to brush against yours. "Say it." His voice is low, insistent. "Say you missed me."

Your throat tightens. You hate how easy it is for him to pull the truth from you.

"I—" Your voice shakes, but the words tumble out anyway. "I missed you, okay?"

Toji groans like he felt those words, his hand sliding down your stomach, fingers toying with the waistband of your underwear. "Yeah?" His breath is hot against your ear. "Show me, baby."

And then his hands are everywhere, his mouth pressing desperate, feverish kisses along your spine, and you let yourself get lost in the way he devours you like a man starved. Like he’s spent every second of his time locked up thinking about this. About you.

Toji moves like he owns you—like he never left, like he never spent months locked away with nothing but memories and filthy daydreams of you to keep him sane. His hands are rough, greedy, sliding over your skin like he’s trying to make up for lost time. And maybe he is. Maybe that’s why his mouth trails fire along your spine, why his grip tightens every time you sigh his name.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, fingers digging into your hips as he flips you onto your back again. He looms over you, eyes dark, wild, hungry. "Look at you. Been dyin’ to have you under me again." His dark blue eyes scan over every inch of you, burning it into his memory. The way the silk clings to every curve, the lacy trim that is snug against your breasts, the way one straps slides off your shoulder.

Your breath is uneven, chest rising and falling as he takes his time devouring you with his gaze. He licks his lips, dragging a hand through his messy black hair, and the sight alone makes your stomach tighten. It's as if he spent all his time in prison getting even more sexier.

"Toji," you whisper, fingers ghosting over his jaw, the scar on his lip. He catches your wrist before you can pull away, pressing a kiss to your palm, slow and lingering. Like he needs to feel the warmth and softness of your skin, of your touch.

"Say it again," he rasps. It's music to his ears, hearing it in person rather than through a grainy prison call. Seeing it, the way your pretty lips move as every syllable spills out.

Your throat tightens. "Toji."

He groans, like he felt that in his chest, before surging down to capture your lips again. It’s not just a kiss—it’s a claim, a demand, a promise. He presses himself against you, and it’s impossible to ignore how much he wants you, how much he missed you too.

"Missed you, baby," he mutters against your lips, his hands sliding under the silky slip dress he sent you, pushing it up, baring more of you to him. "Thought about you every fuckin’ night. Couldn’t even sleep without—"

He cuts himself off with a curse, shaking his head like he’s annoyed at himself for admitting it. But the way his grip tightens on you, the way his lips move over your skin, says everything he won’t.

You bite your lip, fingers threading through his hair as he kisses a path down your stomach. "Then why’d you leave me?"

Toji stills. His breath hitches against your skin, just for a second. Then he exhales, slow and controlled, before pressing one last kiss to your hip.

"Didn’t wanna drag you into my shit," he finally mutters, voice rougher now. He lifts his head, meets your gaze. "But guess that was pointless, huh?"

You swallow hard. "Yeah," you whisper, tugging him back up, pressing your forehead against his. "It was."

His lips curl into something between a smirk and a grimace, like he knew this was coming but hoped you wouldn’t say it. He sighs, cupping your face, thumb stroking along your cheek.

"You mad at me, baby?"

You exhale, your fingers tightening in his hair. "Ask me later."

Toji chuckles, low and dark. "Yeah?" He tilts your chin up, kissing you again, slower this time, deeper. "Guess I’ll have to make it up to you first."

And he does.

Over and over again.

Happy Valentine's Day.

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Part twoooo!! I love this sm idk I luv itttt. Requested by the lovely @cheolliehugs

tags ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ @psoycy @yourname-exee @fandomsearcherforcuntymen @universallydepressed13

ꨄ︎ comment to be added to tag list for the lockedup!toji series ꨄ︎

[animamii]

lockedup!toji lovessss receiving letters from you. 💌

"Fushiguro, you got mail," one of the corrections officers would knock on his open cell door. Toji always had this smirk tugging at his lips when the guard said those words. Although it was only a mask for the thrum he felt in his heart. He would always be handed a nice little stack of letters, all from you. The envelopes would be different colors, pinks and reds and purples. You'd really put a lot of effort into these [mostly love] letters. Even going as far as buying the cutest stamps you could find. He would never admit it out loud—he'd rather choke— but Toji loves when you put those cute little Hello Kitty stamps on the letters. Toji didn’t seem like the type to care for stuff like that, but those letters? Oh, they meant everything.

His name would be written in your cute handwriting, Toji Fushiguro with a little heart next to it. Flipping over the letter, you'd alway put a cute sticker over the seal. Or a heart if you couldn't find a sticker you'd like. He never rushed to open them, though; instead, he’d take his time, flipping through the envelopes, savoring the sight of your adorable scribbles. Toji loved the scent of them, always smelling like the spritz of perfume you'd put on the paper (thank you for the idea, Grease). He loved it just as much as the lipstick kisses you'd put on every blank space of the envelope and letter. Even if you weren't much of a lipstick user, you made sure to keep some different shades in stock so you can send Toji kisses through the mail.

It was the highlight of his day, pulling open the envelope with a rare softness in his usually rough hands. Always being ever so careful not to rip the envelope or the sticker you so thoughtfully sealed it with. He’d sit on the edge of his cot, back resting against the cold cement wall, eyes scanning over your handwriting. Every curve of your letters, every word you wrote, he soaked in every little thing. You wrote about every little thing; what you ate, what you listened to, what you watched. Your little girlish gossip. Toji preferred to read multiple pages of you rambling on about whatever came to your pretty little head. Made him feel like he was with you again, sitting there babbling to him like you always did.

After reading through one of your letters for the first time, Toji would lean back, holding the paper loosely in his hand, a rare softness washing over his sharp features. His lips would curl faintly at the edges, almost like he could hear your voice through the words on the page. He’d trace over your little doodles in the corners—the hearts, the smiley faces, even the exaggerated stick figure versions of you and him. Toji wasn’t a sentimental man by nature, but these small things? They clawed their way into the part of his chest he thought was hardened long ago. Sometimes, the other inmates would glance his way, curious about what kept the infamous Fushiguro so quiet. He’d shoot them a glare that said, Mind your own damn business. No one dared ask questions.

Toji had a little ritual for your letters. After reading through them, he’d carefully fold them, put it back in its respective envelope, and tuck them into his pillowcase. It wasn’t much, but it kept them close to him, right where he could feel that connection even when he wasn’t holding the paper. Later, when the lights dimmed and the prison settled into its eerie quiet, he’d pull one out again, holding it under the faint glow of the moonlight seeping through the bars. It didn’t matter if it was the same letter he read last week or one you’d just sent—it still carried that same warmth.

"Y’know," he muttered to himself one night, voice low enough not to carry. "You’re making me soft, sweetheart." But he didn’t really mind. Those letters gave him something to look forward to, something worth counting down the days for.

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y'all I wanna write more drabbles like thiss. Also I'm thinking... maybe some letters from Toji himself? Or from reader? both?? o.O lemme know bebecitas I wanna write what y'all wanna read!! xoxo

taglist ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ @psoycy (aka my favee)

[animamii]

lockedup!Toji calling you out of the blue after a few months of radio silence.

It's a random number, not the Corrections number or anything like that. So honestly, you're confused as hell since you don't give your number out to anybody but friends or family.

"Hello? Who's this?" You ask hesitantly as soon as you pick up.

"It's me, princess. Who else?" His voice is raspy, and you can hear him exhaling like he's smoking.

"Toji??" You already know it's him, no one else's voice has that drawl to it. No one else's voice could make your blood rush like his.

"The one and only, baby." Oh, you could melt at that if you weren't so damn mad and confused.

"This isn't the prison number... Whose phone are you calling from?" You check the number; it has the same area code but it's a regular cell number.

"This is my number. Save it. Preferably under 'daddy' with one of those cute lil emojis you use," he chuckles, and you could just imagine that little side smirk he does.

"You got a cell phone in prison?" Last time you heard from him he was locked up after a small armed robbery.

"Actually, I've been out for two months now," his voice is casual as if he didn't just admit to being fucking free for two whole months now.

"Two months?" Your voice is more incredulous than questioning. "You mean to tell me you've been released for two months?"

"Yup," he gives you a once word response. Ohhhh that just set fire to your ass. Your cheeks are red hot, hand balling into a fist.

"And you're now just calling??" A hand goes to your hip, a scowl on your face which you wish he could see.

"Yeah. I got a new bed, wanted to know if you wanna help me break it in," you just know he has the biggest grin on his face as he so flirtatiously asks you that, not even caring how shocked or mad you are at him.

"What the fuck did you just ask me??" Now you were seeing red.

"I got my own place now. It's in a shitty neighborhood but one of those recidivism reduction programs set me up with a cool lil spot. Got a new bed. Wanted to see if you wanted to break it in with me, if you know what I mean."

"It took you two months to call me, and this is what you ask me??" Another incredulous scoff leaves your lips.

"Hey, I wanted to get back on my feet by myself this time," he spits on the concrete as he leans against the front of his shabby apartment, "Show ya that I can do it on my own. I hate that I always have to rely on you, ya know? Wanted to prove myself, ma," his tone is a little more serious, none of that playful, flirtatious bullshit he always does with you.

A soft exhale leaves your lungs, you were always so empathetic towards Toji, and couldn't help but try to understand where he was coming from. "Fine." You finally say after a beat of silence, "I'll go see you but I'm not breaking in no damn bed, got it?"

"Mmmm got it, princess. Whatever you say," he drawls out in that gravelly tone. He already knows that your thighs are pressed together in excitement. No matter how much you try to pretend you don't want him, that bed is getting broke in.

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Honestlyyy this is based on a conversation I had with my Madre lol one of her coworkers said her baby daddy got out of prison and called her to tell her he got a new bed and that's it. She didn't even know he was released it reminded me of locked up Toji so muchhh. I'm rewriting this as a smut though, so be on the lookout for that soon xoxo love y'all bebecitas

[animamii]

lockedup!toji calling you as soon as he gets his first call. fuck calling a lawyer or anyone else, he has to hear his baby girl's voice so he knows everything will be okay.

"Heyyy, princess," he'd say with a soft chuckle, his deep voice filled with affection. He could almost picture the way you’d frown when you heard it—he'd made this mistake before, calling from jail, and you’d always been frustrated with him.

"Again, Toji??" you'd reply, your tone exasperated but not entirely without love. It was the kind of playful scolding that only someone who had been through this more times than they could count would give. "How many times have I told you not to do this?"

Toji grinned to himself, the familiar warmth of your voice easing some of the tension in his chest. "Baby girl, I’m not callin’ no lawyer or anyone else. I needed to hear your voice first. You know that."

A soft sigh escapes you on the other end, but he could feel the underlying affection in your response. "You’re lucky I still pick up. Every damn time you do this, Toji. What are you thinkin'?"

“I’m thinkin’ I just wanna make sure you’re alright. That you’re okay. I’m sittin’ here, and all I can think about is you.” He speaks low, his voice smooth and almost tender. "I’m fine. Don’t worry. Just... needed to know you’re good, princess. Needed to hear you tell me everything’s gonna be okay."

You hesitate for a moment before responding, your tone softening. "Of course I’m okay. But you, Toji… you keep doing this. Keep putting yourself in these situations. You’re gonna get yourself locked up for good one day, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with that."

Toji’s smile fades, and the sound of a deep sigh echoes through the receiver. He knew you were right. But he’d always been a man who lived in the moment, dealt with the consequences after. Still, hearing the concern in your voice hit harder than he wanted to admit.

"I know, princess," he says, voice quieter now. "But I swear, if anything happens... if I’m stuck here longer than I planned, just promise me you’ll be okay. Promise me you won’t let this mess with you too much."

You were silent for a moment, and in that silence, Toji could almost feel your arms around him, holding him together in the way you always did. Finally, your voice came through, low and steady.

"I’ll be okay," you say with a soft sigh, the words filled with that kind of certainty only you could provide. "But I need you to be, too. You can’t keep doing this. We’ll figure it out, okay? I'll call your lawyer, do what I always do for ya. Just don’t lose yourself in there, Toji."

His chest tightens. He had always been so careful to never rely on anyone, but with you, it was different. You had a way of making him want to fight harder, hold on longer.

"I’m not gonna lose myself," he promises, his voice firm again. "Not as long as I know you’re out there waiting for me. I’ll make it through, princess. I’m comin’ home."

"Yeah... I know. I better not find out it's anything too bad that you're in there for more than a week. I still wanna go to Kyoto this month." Toji had already planned a weekend getaway to Kyoto, just a small lil baecation away from Tokyo.

"Just call Shiu and tell him to get me out of here pronto, baby girl."

[animamii]

part trois of Toji's Valentine Suprise

contains smuttttt c;

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"You wearin' that anklet I gotcha?" Toji asks, spread out on the recliner. It's only been a few hours since this little impromptu reunion (aka him actually somehow breaking out of prison to see you). You sit on the loveseat, knees bent as your back rests on the arm. Looking like a disheveled mess, hair all sex ruffled, silk slip hanging off of one shoulder. Lips all plump and swollen, glossy and red. Fuckin' perfect in Toji's eyes.

"Uh huh," you stick your pedicured foot out, golden anklet dangling, the little 'TF' written in old english font making a light sound as it softly sways.

"Looks pretty on ya, knew that gold would complement your skin," he hums, grabbing your foot and kissing the top, eyes locked on yours. Your breath hitches for a quick second, you always got so enamored with Toji after he fucks you good. Still in your sex daze, your hands bunch the fabric of the silk slip, somehow growing needy again. Toji continues to look at the anklet, your foot in his grip. "White toes too? My favorite." His thumb brushes the gel polish before he kisses the tips of your toes. But oh, he doesn't stop there.

His scarred lip curls into mischievous smile as he opens his mouth, lips wrapping around a few of your toes. a soft gasp leaves your mouth, and you clutch onto your dress even tighter. Toji's gaze is intense, burning into yours, and you can't help but be drawn in by his raw, unadulterated desire. Your heart races as Toji's mouth closes around your toes, the sensation both strange and exhilarating. You can't help but arch your back slightly, a soft moan escaping your lips.

A deep, satisfied groan rumbles from Toji’s chest as he sucks lightly on your toes, his tongue flicking against the pads before he pulls back with a wet pop. His grip tightens around your ankle, holding you in place as he smirks up at you, watching the way your thighs press together, your lip caught between your teeth.

"What?" His voice is low, teasing. "Too much?" You shake your head, swallowing hard, but your breath is uneven, your body already responding. His thumb strokes over your ankle, grazing the delicate chain, and his smirk widens. "Yeah, that’s what I thought."

Slowly, he drags his lips along the curve of your foot, kissing up your ankle, your shin, taking his sweet time as he watches you squirm. You hate how easily he gets to you, how even the softest touch makes heat pool low in your belly. He knows exactly what he’s doing—knows how to wind you up, how to keep you right on the edge. It pisses you off, really.

You exhale shakily. "You’re so—"

"So what?" Toji murmurs, pressing a kiss to your knee before running his hands up your thighs, spreading them just slightly as he inches closer. "Good to you? Thought you knew that already, baby." He chuckles as he makes that oh so true assumption.

Your nails dig into the fabric of your slip, anticipation making your heart pound against your ribs. "You’re ridiculous," you mutter, cheeks burning red.

Toji chuckles, dark and low, as his hands slide higher. "And yet you still let me do whatever I want with you." His lips ghost over your inner thigh, his breath warm against your sensitive skin. "Ain’t that right?" You bite your lip, nodding without thinking.

"Good girl." His voice is pure satisfaction before he pulls you closer, eyes gleaming with something wicked. "Now, lemme really show you how much I missed you."

Toji’s hands grip your thighs, thumbs rubbing slow, lazy circles into your skin. He’s settled between your legs now, still lounging back like he’s got all the time in the world, like he didn’t just break out of prison to see you. The smug bastard knows exactly what he’s doing, keeping his touch featherlight, dragging out the moment until you’re squirming beneath his gaze.

"T-Toji—" Your breath catches as he kisses the inside of your thigh, lips soft against your overheated skin. He knows just where to kiss, which spots are the most sensitive. Where his open mouthed kisses should be placed precisely that will make you whimper.

"Mm?" He hums, acting like he doesn’t notice the way your fingers twitch against the silk of your slip, gripping the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you sane. "What’s wrong, baby? You gettin’ needy on me again?" You glare at him, but it’s weak, and he knows it.

Toji grins, his scarred lip curling up as he presses another kiss, a little higher this time. "Didn’t I just take care of you, huh? Thought that’d be enough to hold you over, but look at you." His hands squeeze your plush thighs, making heat pool in your stomach. "Lookin’ all pretty and desperate again."

You hate how much his teasing affects you, how easily he has you melting under his touch, wrapped around his finger. "You’re so—"

"So good to you?" He finishes for you once again like he wants you to say it, grinning when you huff out a frustrated breath. "Yeah, I know, baby. Ain’t my fault you got no self control when it comes to me."

You open your mouth to argue, but the second you do, his hands tighten, and he pulls you forward, dragging you to the edge of the loveseat with a yelp. Before you can protest, he tugs your legs over his shoulders, his smirk widening as you gasp.

"Relax," he murmurs, thumbs stroking the inside of your thighs. "I got you, baby. I always got you, right?"

Your heart pounds as his mouth gets closer, his breath hot against your skin. "Toji—"

"Shh," he soothes, pressing a lingering kiss over the anklet, right where his initials rest against your skin. "Gonna take my time with you, princess."

Toji’s grip is firm as he spreads your thighs wider, his hands rough against your soft skin. His breath fans over your already soaked panties, making your stomach clench in anticipation. He watches you, dark eyes gleaming, eating up every little twitch, every shaky breath you take. Ohhh how he missed this. How he missed you.

"Fuck, baby." His thumb brushes over the damp fabric, feeling the heat radiating from you. Pulling his thumb back, it's sticky with your arousal, which he licks off with a swipe of his tongue. "You're drippin’ already? Thought you said I was ridiculous—but look at you." He tuts, pressing a teasing kiss right where you need him most, making your hips jerk. Fuckin' tease. "You miss me that bad?"

"Toji—" Your voice is almost a whine, hands gripping the arm of the loveseat like it’ll stop the way your body responds to him so easily. But it’s useless. You always fall apart for him.

He chuckles, low and dark, fingers hooking into the thin fabric of your panties before tugging them down slowly, deliberately, letting the cool air graze over your bare skin. He groans at the sight of you, licking his lips. "Shit, baby. Prettiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen."

Before you can respond, his mouth is on you. A sharp gasp rips from your lips as his tongue flicks over your clit, slow at first, teasing, just to watch you squirm. But Toji’s never been a patient man, and he wants you to come undone. His tongue moves expertly, with a distinct precision because he always knows exactly what he's doing, switching between broad strokes and tight circles, sucking at just the right moments. He knows your body best, knows just what to do to make you unravel. The obscene sounds of his mouth working against you only make it worse—make you needier.

"Fuck, Toji—" You arch, hands flying to his hair, fingers tangling in his dark strands, tugging. He groans at that, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you. Your sweet as candy voice always made him melt, made his heartstrings tug.

"That’s it, baby," he rasps between licks, voice dripping with satisfaction. "Pull my hair, ride my fuckin’ face. I want you to. I know you want to too."

You don’t need to be told twice. Your hips move on their own, grinding against his tongue as he groans, eating you like a starved man. His hands grip your thighs tighter, keeping you exactly where he wants you, dragging you even closer, like he can’t get enough. Guiding your hips, helping you fuck his face.

"T-Toji, I—" You feel the pressure building, that tight coil in your stomach about to snap. He knows it, too. He can feel it in the way your thighs shake, in the way your fingers grip his hair even tighter. Your heel digs into his back, forcing his face into your coochie, basically having him in a headlock.

"C’mon, baby," he coaxes, voice rough with his own need. "Gimme what I want. Let me taste you."

It’s the filthy desperation in his voice that sends you over the edge. Your body tenses before shattering, pleasure rolling through you in waves as Toji keeps going, licking and sucking you through it, groaning against you as he drinks it all in. When you finally go limp, breathless and trembling, he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, chin glistening with your slickness, smirking like he just won the fucking lottery.

"Told you, baby," he murmurs, pressing one last kiss to your overstimulated clit, making you whimper, your hips bucking. "I always take care of what’s mine."

Toji’s fingers trail over your trembling thighs, lazy and possessive, as you struggle to catch your breath. He’s still between your legs, lips glistening, gaze locked onto you like he’s debating whether to ruin you all over again. But his eyes drop lower—to your ankle, where that delicate gold chain rests against your skin, his initials catching in the dim light.

A slow, satisfied smirk spreads across his lips. "Knew that anklet would look good on you," he murmurs, fingers tracing over it, letting the tiny ‘TF’ pendant sway against your skin. "Y’know why I got this for you, huh doll?"

You swallow hard, body still buzzing from your orgasm, but Toji doesn’t like being ignored. His fingers slide up your calf, grip tightening just enough to make you focus.

"I asked you a question, princess."

"Toji..." Your voice is soft, breathless, and he loves it.

"C’mon," he coaxes, tilting his head, fingers playing with the charm. "Why do you think I put my name right there? Hmm?" His thumb presses against the anklet, dragging over your skin. Even an innocent touch like that has you tingling in all the right places, Like anything he does to you gives you that pleasure. "Right on this pretty lil’ ankle? You know what it means, don’tcha?"

Butterflies form inside your stomach at the implication, heat rushing through your veins. He watches the realization dawn on your face, the way you shift beneath his intense gaze, biting your lip.

"Say it," he urges, voice dipping into something darker, hungrier. You hesitate, and that will not do.

With a deep chuckle, Toji moves fast—grabbing your ankle, lifting your leg up over his shoulder, your body stretched out beneath him. His free hand slides up your thigh, his grip firm, possessive. The weight of him, the heat of him, makes your head spin.

"This lil’ thing?" He flicks the charm, letting it dangle. "It means you’re mine, baby. My girl. My name right here, sittin’ pretty on your ankle—so everyone knows exactly who the fuck you belong to."

You shudder, something needy stirring deep inside you. Toji always had a way of branding you without even trying. His touch, his voice, the way he owned every piece of you without question.

"You like that, huh?" His smirk widens as he leans in, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses up your calf, stopping right where the anklet rests. "Bet you think about me every time you see it. Every time you feel it brush against your skin." He kisses the charm, tongue flicking against the cool metal before his teeth scrape over it. Your breath stutters.

"T-Toji—"

"Mmm, that’s right, baby," he groans against your skin, his grip tightening. "Go on, say it. Say who you belong to."

You hesitate, brain still hazy, but then he bites just below your anklet, just enough to make you gasp—just enough to send a shock of pleasure straight to your core.

"Toji—fuck! I—"

"Yeah, you do, baby," he rasps, hot and breathy against your skin. "Say it."

Your nails dig into the cushions, your body on fire, already craving more. "I’m yours, Toji."

He lets out a dark, satisfied chuckle, teeth grazing your ankle one last time before he shifts, pressing you deeper into the loveseat, his weight heavy, suffocating in the best way.

"Damn right you are," he mutters, lips trailing down your neck, hands spreading your thighs again as he fits himself in the gap. "And now I’m gonna make sure you never forget it."

With two fingers he grabs the leftover slickness that was still coating your sex, and he uses it to lube up his cock like the sick man he is. You didn't even notice that he had pulled it out, only seeing as he pumps himself a few times. With a little plaat! he slaps your clit with his heavy length, making you jolt, your puffy clit still trying to recover from the overstimulation.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, watching the way you react to him. "So fuckin’ sensitive for me. You want it, huh?" His cock drags through your folds, the thick head nudging your entrance, teasing. "Say it."

Your breath hitches, hands gripping at his arms, nails digging into the muscle. "I want it, Toji. Please."

His smirk deepens, enjoying the desperation in your voice. "That’s my good girl." And with one slow, deliberate roll of his hips, he sinks into you, stretching you open inch by inch, making sure you feel every bit of him.

A strangled moan rips from your throat as he bottoms out, your walls fluttering around him. "Shit, baby. Always so tight for me," he grits out, eyes locked onto yours, watching the way your face contorts with pleasure.

He stills for a second, letting you adjust, but the way your body clenches around him has his control hanging by a thread. "You okay, princess?"

You nod frantically, fingers digging into his biceps. "Move, Toji. Please." Even through your hazy overstimulation, you were still such a needy needy girl for him.

That’s all he needs. His hips pull back before slamming forward, setting a deep, brutal pace that has your back arching off the loveseat. Each thrust pushes you further into the cushions, the force of it making your anklet jingle softly, like a taunting reminder of who you belong to.

"Listen to that," he rasps, his hand gripping your ankle again, lifting your leg higher. "That sound, baby—know what it means? Means I own this fuckin’ pussy." He looks at the anklet that is now next to his head, he smirks, "And this means I own you. Told ya this would be dangling over my shoulder soon." He flicks the charm in a cocky almost patronizing way, letting it sway back and forth, back and forth.

Your moans come faster, broken, desperate, and Toji eats it up, his pace only growing rougher. "Fuck, you take me so good," he groans, watching the way your body welcomes him, your slick coating his cock, making it easier for him to drive deeper. "No one else can have you like this. Only me. Say it."

"Only you, Toji!" You cry out, body trembling, nails raking down his back. Bottom lip jutted out, the cutest of needy pouts on your face. It makes Toji smile for a second, not smirk but smile. Even so fucked out you looked so cute. But then the way your walls squeeze around his thickness makes him go feral once more.

"That’s right, baby," he growls, leaning down, his lips ghosting over yours. "Mine. No matter what, no matter where I'm at. It's only mine." Your stomach clenches at his words, the possessiveness in his voice making your head spin. You barely manage a nod, overwhelmed by the way he’s filling you, owning you completely.

His lips crash into yours, swallowing your whimpers as he thrusts into you with deep, deliberate strokes. His grip on your ankle tightens, pressing it against his shoulder, the anklet dangling right beside his cheek, swinging in time with each snap of his hips. Toji groans, burying himself deeper, his cock dragging along that spot that has your toes curling. This turns you into a babbling, moaning mess. Toji can't help but let out a moaned-out chuckle, proud of your undoing that he caused.

His pace is ruthless now, hands gripping your hips, pulling you into every thrust. The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping, your breathy moans mixing with his low, guttural groans. The pressure in your core builds, unbearable, white-hot pleasure creeping up your spine.

"T-Toji—fuck, I—"

"I got you, baby," he grits out, sweat dripping down his temples as he keeps driving into you. "Let go. Show me who this pussy belongs to."

His fingers drop to your clit, rubbing tight, skilled circles, and that’s it—you shatter, pleasure ripping through you as you cry out his name, your body locking up before trembling beneath him.

Toji watches in awe—in that loving adoration he always does, drinking in the way your walls grip him—the way they flutter, your face twisted in pleasure—the pretty way your brow furrows and the way your eyes are glossy and glazed over, your anklet still swaying with every movement,. "Fuck, baby—gonna cum—"

He barely pulls out in time, pumping his thick length, ropes of hot cum spilling onto your stomach, your thighs. He groans your name, breath ragged, before collapsing against you, body heavy and warm.

For a moment, neither of you speak, just panting in the aftermath, bodies still buzzing. Then, Toji lifts his head, eyes flicking down to the mess he’s made of you—of your trembling thighs, the slick between them, the way his initials on that anklet stand out against your flushed skin.

A slow, satisfied smirk stretches across his lips. "Told you, baby." His fingers brush over the chain, still admiring his claim on you. "Looks even better when it’s right where it belongs."

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

like the doctor ordered c; @livv-in-color

tags ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ @psoycy @yourname-exee @fandomsearcherforcuntymen @universallydepressed13 @cheolliehugs @xinarii @blendingcaramal @k-a-m232 @stainednailpolishremover

[animamii]

Angels Get Their [Chicken] Wings | Toji Fushiguro

another au origin story of lockedup!toji x sweetheart!reader

︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡ ︶︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡ ︶︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡ ︶︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡

The air is thick with smoke and cheap perfume, the low hum of music vibrating through the dimly lit club. Toji slouches in a worn leather chair, one arm draped over the back, the other nursing a glass of bourbon. Swirling it absentmindedly. His dark eyes flick lazily over the girls twirling on stage, their slow, sultry movements barely holding his attention. He’s seen it all before.

Then he notices her.

Perched on one of the high chairs near the bar, she sticks out like a sore thumb—like a goddamn angel who took a wrong turn and ended up in hell. A cute little outfit hugs her figure, sweet but entirely out of place. She’s not here for the show; she’s not vying for attention or throwing cash. No, she’s eating. Picking at a plate of food like she’s sitting at a cozy diner instead of a dingy strip club.

Toji furrows his brows, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "The hell is a girl like that doin’ in a place like this?"

Curiosity burns through the haze of bourbon, and before he even registers it, he’s on his feet. Moving like a predator with no real prey, he saunters over, his heavy boots making little noise against the sticky floor. He leans against the table she's sat at, tilting his head as he takes her in up close.

"You lost, sweetheart?" His voice is low, rough with amusement. "Don’t think I’ve ever seen someone eat a damn meal in a place like this."

She looks up at him with wide, innocent eyes, lips still wrapped around a forkful of food, and Toji suddenly wonders if he just found the most interesting thing in this whole damn club. She blinks up at him, chewing slowly, as if genuinely processing his words. Toji watches as she swallows, then dabs at the corner of her mouth with a napkin before answering.

“Well,” she starts, her voice light and sweet—too sweet for a place like this. “The food here is actually really good.”

Toji’s brows lift. He wasn’t expecting that. He expected nervousness, maybe even fear. But this girl? She just smiles at him, unbothered, like he’s not some imposing stranger who’s way too interested in her presence.

“You eat at strip clubs often?” he asks, leaning a little closer, forearm resting on the table. The scene is oh so contrasting, Toji facing the shadows, face barely visible in the dimness. Whereas her face seemed to glow under the slowly strobing-colored lights that shined towards her. Toji swears he can see a halo floating above her head.

She shrugs, taking another bite. “Not all of them. But this place? Their wings are top tier. Plus, the make the best fried pickles in town.” A dimply smile appears on her face as she pops a fried pickle chip into her mouth.

Toji lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Cute.” He watches her, amused by the way she swings her legs absentmindedly, so damn comfortable in a setting that should have chewed her up and spit her out.

“You come here alone?” he asks, scanning the room out of habit. He doesn’t see anyone watching her, no jealous boyfriend or overprotective friend lurking in the shadows.

She nods, cheeks full from another bite of food. “Mhm.”

He scoffs amusedly, lip tugging to one side with a smirk. “You got a death wish or somethin’?”

She tilts her head, expression still impossibly sweet. “Why? You gonna kill me?”

Toji grins, sharp and wolfish. “Nah, sweetheart. But not everyone in a place like this is as nice as me.” She giggles at that, and Toji swears it’s the most out-of-place sound he’s ever heard in this dingy club. Like a damn bell ringing in a haunted house.

“Nice?” she teases. “That’s not the vibe you give off.”

Toji smirks, amused by her boldness. Most people knew better than to poke at him like that. But here she was, all soft edges and sweet smiles, like she had no idea who she was talking to. Or maybe she did and just didn’t care.

“That so?” he muses, swirling the bourbon in his glass. “Then what kinda vibe do I give off, sweetheart?”

She hums in thought, tapping a finger against her chin. “Hmm… dangerous.”

Toji grins. Smart girl.

“And yet, here you are, sittin’ all nice and comfy next to me.”

She shrugs again, unfazed. “I dunno. You don’t scare me.” Something dark and intrigued flickers in Toji’s eyes. She doesn’t scare easy, huh?

“You probably should be,” he murmurs, just loud enough for her to hear.

She just smiles, takes another bite of her food, and looks at him with those wide, innocent eyes. “But then we wouldn’t be having this fun conversation, would we?” Toji huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. Yeah, this girl? She’s trouble. Trouble wrapped up with a pretty pink bow.

Toji watches her, lips curling around the rim of his glass as he takes a slow sip of bourbon. She doesn’t squirm under his gaze. Doesn’t shy away like most would. Instead, she just keeps eating, twirling a fry between her fingers before popping it into her mouth. The damn audacity.

He sets his drink down with a heavy clink. “You always this bold, sweetheart?”

She grins, tilting her head slightly. “Only when I meet someone who piques my interest. There's something inter”

Toji chuckles, low and deep. Interesting. That’s a new one. He’s been called a lot of things—dangerous, terrifying, a goddamn nightmare—but never interesting.

“You got a name?” he asks, drumming his fingers against the bar.

She hums, lifting her drink to her lips, it's not even alcoholic, just a shirley temple with too much syrup. “Maybe.”

His smirk widens. Oh, she’s playing with him now.

“You’re a little tease, huh?” He leans in, just enough to make his presence impossible to ignore. She smells sweet—like strawberries and something warm, maybe sugar or dulce de leche. It’s all wrong for a place like this, too soft, too damn inviting.

She doesn’t move away. Just meets his gaze with those wide, curious eyes. “Would it kill you to be a gentleman and introduce yourself first?” Her pink lips turn into a small, almost teasing smile.

Toji lets out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “Alright, sweetheart. Name’s Toji.”

She perks up, finally setting her fork down. “Toji… That’s a cool name.” For a second she looks him over, repeating his name in her mind. Toji, Toji, Toji... It has a nice ring to it.

“I know,” he drawls, a little cocky. “And you?”

She presses her lips together, as if debating whether to answer. Then, finally, she sighs dramatically. “I guess it’s only fair. I’m—”

A crash echoes from the back of the club, cutting her off.

Toji’s body tenses on instinct. He doesn’t even think—his hand goes to his waistband, brushing against the familiar weight of his weapon. Old habits die hard. With vigilant eyes he glances toward the noise, spotting some idiot getting shoved against a table, drinks spilling everywhere.

Just a bar fight. Nothing he needs to worry about.

But when Toji turns back, sweetheart is watching him with an unreadable expression. Not scared, not startled. Just… observing. Like she caught something interesting in that split second.

“You always this jumpy?” she asks, resting her chin on her hand.

Toji snorts, letting his shoulders relax. “Tch. Habit.”

She hums like she’s not fully convinced but doesn’t push. Instead, she picks up her plate again, casually continuing her meal.

Toji leans back, eyeing her with something akin to amusement and curiosity. “You’re real calm for a girl sittin’ next to a guy like me.”

She giggles. That sound again. Soft, light, so fucking out of place. “Maybe I just trust my gut,” she says simply, the prettiest smile on her face.

Toji raises a brow. “And what’s it tellin’ you?” In all honesty he's so confused by her. The soft, seemingly innocent way she looks, she's sweet and tender but isn't fazed by any of the maliciousness that radiates off of him. It freaks him out a bit.

She pops another fry into her mouth, then smiles at him like she’s got him all figured out. “That you’re dangerous, but not to me.”

Toji stares at her, something unreadable flickering in his dark eyes. Then, after a beat, he lets out a low, rumbling laugh. “Sweetheart, you got no idea what kinda trouble you’re askin’ for.”

"Ohhh I think I know exactly what kind of trouble you are, Toji." Her voice is like sugar to him, and he's waiting for the next time he gets to hear his name roll of her tongue in that candied drawl.

Toji watches her, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. This girl is something else. Most people—smart people—would have taken one look at him and kept their distance. But here she is, sipping her sugary drink like she’s not sitting next to a man who could snap her in half without breaking a sweat.

He leans in just slightly, elbows resting on the bar, voice dropping into something lower, something meant to dig under her skin.

“You got a thing for danger, sweetheart?” She must have if she's in a shady place like this, even if it's for their damn good lemon pepper and parmesan wings.

She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t shrink back. Instead, she taps her fingers against her glass, girly acrylics making soft sounds against the cup. Long lashes fluttering, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Maybe,” she muses. “Or maybe I’m just good at knowing who’s worth being scared of.”

Toji huffs out a laugh. Cocky little thing. “And you decided I ain’t?”

"Yup, my intuition is telling me that I'm safe. Don't gotta thing to worry about when it comes to ya, I feel it in my heart," she places her dainty hand over her chest.

"That so?" Something inside of Toji softens as she says that.

She nods, completely sure of herself.

Toji leans back, his smirk slowly fading into a more genuine, intrigued expression. Her confidence in trusting him—of all people—was both surprising and... refreshing. It was rare for anyone, especially someone like her, to feel that way in his presence. Most people would’ve sensed the danger, the raw unpredictability that lingered around him. But not her. She was too calm, too sure of herself, and he couldn't quite figure out if that was a foolish move or the sweetest thing he’d ever seen.

His gaze softens ever so slightly as he watches her, the flickering lights casting a warm glow on her face, making her seem almost untouchable. The contrast between them—the dangerous aura he exuded, and the sweetness she carried—was something he couldn't look away from.

"You sure about that?" he asks quietly, eyes locking onto hers.

She smiles that little, too-sweet smile of hers, the one that seems to carry a secret she’s not sharing, and nods again. “I trust my gut. It’s never wrong.”

Before he can press her further, the bartender swings by, wiping down the counter. “You botherin’ my best customer, Fushiguro?”

Toji barely spares the guy a glance, eyes still fixated on her. “Tch. She don’t seem too bothered.”

The bartender shakes his head, chuckling. “She’s here every week. Sits right there, eats her food, minds her business.” He glances at her, amused. “But looks like she made a friend tonight.”

Toji hums, rolling his glass between his fingers. “That right?”

She just smiles, unfazed. “Maybe.”

The bartender chortles, moving away, and Toji lets the silence stretch between them for a moment. Then he rests his chin in his palm, watching her with something between curiosity and amusement.

“You really come here for the food, huh?” Toji looks down to see her little feast, a bunch of appetizers. Wings and fried pickles, mozzarella sticks and fries.

She nods. “Mhm.”

He chuckles. “Not the entertainment?”

She glances toward the stage, where a girl is languidly spinning around the pole. “That too,” she admits, shrugging. “They work hard. It’s kinda nice to just sit and watch.”

"I don't think I've ever heard someone admire strippers in that kind of way," Toji chuckles again, shaking his head as he takes another sip of his drink. He’s starting to see her in a new light. Most people came to places like this to get lost in the chaos, to escape. But her? She seemed like she was here for the simplicity of it all, for the food and the show, without all the mess that came with it.

"It takes a lot of skill and strength to do something like pole dancing and stripping. Both physical and mental. Plus they dress really pretty," a small, admiring smile sits on her lips and she watches the girls dance on stage.

“You got a good head on your shoulders,” he remarks, watching her with a newfound softness. “You're too kind. Not many people like you would last long in a place like this, especially not alone. You don't seem like you belong here.” Toji's eyes flicker over her again. She looks fresh as a daisy, perfect in this place full of weeds.

She meets his gaze, her expression soft but unwavering. “Maybe I don’t,” she agrees. “But I like to think everyone belongs somewhere, even if it’s somewhere unexpected.”

Toji tilts his head, intrigued by her answer. Most people would be rattled by the place, maybe even scared, but she wasn’t. She wasn’t scared of him either. That was... new. “You really not worried about me?” he asks, leaning in just slightly.

She just smiles, a little mischievous now. “You don’t scare me, Toji. I told you. I trust my gut.” Something stirs in him at her words. A strange warmth mixed with a flicker of respect. Her confidence—it wasn’t arrogance, it wasn’t naive—there was something genuine about it, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

He leans back again, eyes never leaving her. “You're somethin' else, sweetheart.”

She grins, dipping a fried pickle into ranch, “Guess we both are.”

The night drags on, the club’s atmosphere shifting into something hazier, maybe even a little shadier. The lights dim further, the music slows, and the crowd thins to the usual stragglers—lonely men nursing cheap drinks, exhausted dancers collecting tips, sniffers going to do lines in the bathroom, and the occasional drunk stumbling toward the exit.

But she is still here. Sweetheart. Sitting pretty, sipping her drink, looking like she belongs in a cozy café rather than this rundown joint.

And Toji? He’s still watching her.

He isn’t sure why he hasn’t walked away yet. Maybe it’s the way she’s completely unbothered by him. Maybe it’s the way her voice lingers in the air, light and teasing, a stark contrast to everything he’s used to. Or maybe he just likes the idea of something soft sitting so close to something dangerous.

“So,” he muses, resting his forearm on the tabletop as he angles himself toward her. “What’s a sweetheart like you do when you’re not sittin’ in a place like this?” Toji had never cared to get to know people—hated it honestly—but he was oh so curious about what this pretty little thing does when she's not in an ugly place like this.

She hums, tapping her nails against her glass. “You mean, when I’m not eating overpriced wings in a strip club?”

Toji smirks. “Somethin’ like that.”

Leaning back slightly, her doe eyes flicker to the stage where one of the last dancers of the night is finishing up. “I work, go to school. I read. I go out sometimes.” She glances at him, lips quirking. “Nothing as exciting as whatever you do though.”

Toji's eyes widen for a split second before he chuckles, low and deep. “You say that like you know what I do.”

She tilts her head, playful but observant. “I have a pretty good guess.” Plump, pink lips wrap around her straw as she takes a long sip of the drink that's just as sweet as her.

“Oh yeah?” Shifting closer, Toji rests his chin in his palm. “Let’s hear it, then.”

A slow exhale leaves her lungs, watching him like she’s trying to piece together a puzzle. “You carry yourself like someone who’s always watching his back. You sit where you can see the whole room. You don’t like people sneakin’ up on you.” She twirls the straw in her drink. “You’re dangerous but controlled. Not reckless. So… I’d say you’re either in some very shady business, or you used to be.”

Toji just stares at her for a moment. Then, a slow grin stretches across his lips.

“Well, shit,” he mutters, letting out a short laugh. “Ain’t you a sharp little thing?”

She returns his grin, taking another sip of her drink. “So I was right?”

Leaning in, Toji's voice dips low. “Maybe.”

A satisfied hum vibrates through her chest. “Figured.”

The bartender passes by again, wiping down the counter, and Toji takes the opportunity to order another drink—for her this time. She blinks when the fresh glass is slid in front of her, tilting her head in question. It looks just like the shirley temple she was sipping on earlier, but lingers with the scent of vodka.

Toji just smirks. “On me, sweetheart.”

She raises a brow, but there’s amusement dancing in her eyes. “Oh? And what do I owe you in return?”

Toji taps his fingers against the wooden table, watching her with something unreadable. “Just keep talkin’ to me.” Her lips curl, and Toji swears it’s the most dangerous thing he’s seen all night.

“Deal.”

The drink sits between her fingers, untouched for a moment as she studies him. The club hums around them, but Toji barely notices anymore. The distant bass, the murmured conversations, the occasional clink of glass—it all fades into the background. All he sees is her.

“So,” she starts, picking the vodka-soaked maraschino cherry out of the glass. “You gonna tell me one of those stories now?” Dangling it a bit, she takes a bite, the syrup and vodka dripping from her lip, which she quickly licks with a swipe of her tongue.

Toji smirks, resting his chin in his palm. It almost looks adoring, really. “That eager to know my business, sweetheart?”

Leaning in slightly, she mirrors his posture, her expression playful but steady. “You offered.”

Damn. She got him there.

He exhales through his nose, debating how much he wants to give away. He could make something up, spin a little tale, see if she’d buy it. But for some damn reason, he doesn’t feel like lying to her.

“Hm.” He rolls his glass between his fingers. “Alright. I’ll give you somethin’ light.”

She perks up, smiling as she props her elbow on the bar. “I’m listening.”

Toji lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he swirls the remaining bourbon in his glass. The amber liquid catches the dim light of the club, casting warm reflections against his fingers. “There was this job once,” he starts, his voice slow and unhurried, like he’s savoring the memory. “Some rich asshole wanted a guy handled. Nothing fancy, just in and out. Easy money.”

She hums, propping her elbow on the table as she watches him with interest. “And?”

Toji lifts his glass to his lips, taking a slow sip before setting it down with a deliberate clink. His eyes gleam with amusement. “And it was easy… until the guy’s wife walked in.”

Chin resting in her palms, her brows lift, interest sparking in her expression. “Oh?”

Toji huffs out another chuckle, rubbing his jaw as if he can still feel the impact of what happened next. “Yeah. She was holdin’ a fuckin’ frying pan. Came swingin’ at me like she was in a damn action movie.”

Her reaction is instant—she gasps, covering her mouth with her fingers, but it does nothing to muffle the laughter spilling out. “No way.”

“Toji’s honor,” he says with a lazy smirk, lifting a hand like he’s swearing on it. “Damn near cracked my skull open. Had to duck real quick.”

She’s still laughing, shaking her head in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous.”

He shrugs, unfazed. “Hey, love makes people do crazy shit.”

She tilts her head, resting her chin against her palm, still grinning. “And what happened after that?”

Toji snickers, rubbing a hand over his jaw before reaching for his drink again. “Left the guy tied up, made my exit, and let the missus deal with him.” He takes another sip, savoring the heat before adding, “Never took a job on a married man again. Too much trouble.”

She’s still grinning, shaking her head in disbelief. “That’s actually kinda funny. You know, that kinda reminds me of this movie.”

"You talkin' bout Tangled, sweetheart?"

She blinks, caught completely off guard. “Wait—you’ve seen Tangled?” There’s a tinge of surprise in her voice, like she can’t quite picture him—a towering, scarred, broad-shouldered hitman—sitting through a Disney movie.

Toji shrugs like it’s no big deal. “’Course I did.” He glances down at his drink before muttering, “Really like that green fella, the lizard.”

Her lips part before a laugh bubbles up. “The chameleon?”

“Yeah, whatever the fuck he is.” He waves a hand dismissively before taking another drink. “I like ‘em.”

She shakes her head, still giggling. “I just… I can’t believe you sat through an entire Disney movie.”

Toji smirks, looking her over with a lazy kind of amusement. “What, big bad Toji can’t enjoy a damn cartoon?”

She grins, tilting her head playfully. “I dunno. Just figured you’d be more of a Godfather or Scarface kinda guy.”

He snorts. “Yeah, well, even a guy like me needs somethin’ lighthearted every now and then.” He gives her a pointed look. “Not like I got a lotta folks sittin’ me down for movie night.”

Her smile softens just a little, something unreadable flickering in her expression. Then, she perks up, grinning again. “Well, since we’re already on Disney movies, I’m dying to know—what’s your opinion on The Lion King?”

Toji exhales through his nose, shaking his head. “Ain’t even gonna start with that one. That movie’s got more family trauma than me.”

She bursts out laughing again, and for a second, Toji just watches her, something warm curling in his chest. He likes the way she laughs—soft but full, like she’s not just being polite. Most people look at him and see something to fear. Something sharp and dangerous. But her? She's over here talking Disney movies with him.

“So,” he finally drawls, stretching his long legs out. “My turn.”

Her laughter fades into a curious hum as she blinks, tilting her head slightly. “Your turn?”

Toji straightens just a bit, his elbows still resting on the table as his scarred lip curls up. “Yeah. Told you a story. Now you owe me one.”

She hesitates for the first time all night, lips parting slightly before pressing together. Toji catches it—the flicker of uncertainty, like she’s debating whether she should play along.

Then, after a beat, she sighs dramatically. “Fine. But I don’t have any stories about frying pans and hit jobs.”

Toji chuckles, low and rough, shifting slightly in his seat. “I’ll take what I can get, sweetheart.”

She hums in thought, tapping her nails lightly against her glass before her gaze flicks back to his. There’s something playful there, something challenging. Then, after a moment, she leans in, lowering her voice like she’s about to tell him a secret. “Okay… how about this?” Her lips quirk. “Once, I walked into a bar, and this really dangerous man bought me a drink.”

Toji snorts, shaking his head. “Real funny.”

She grins, clearly pleased with herself. “It’s still happening, so I haven’t figured out how it ends yet.”

There’s something about the way she says it—something light, teasing, but with just enough truth underneath to make him pause. He watches her carefully, studying the way she tilts her head, the way her fingers absentmindedly trace the condensation on her glass. There’s no fear in her eyes, no hesitation, just that same quiet curiosity that’s been there since the moment he first spotted her in this place.

“That so?” he murmurs amused, voice dipping lower.

She nods, slow and deliberate, lifting her glass slightly in a silent toast. “Guess I’ll just have to stick around and see.”

Toji huffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he leans back in his seat. Trouble. This girl is pure trouble.

The club is quieter now, the air thick with the lingering scent of alcohol and now faded perfume. The neon lights overhead flicker intermittently, casting an uneven glow over the bar. Most of the patrons have trickled out, leaving only the stragglers—some finishing their drinks, others too lost in inebriated conversations to notice the late hour.

Toji stretches, rolling his shoulders before settling back into his seat. He’s still watching her, the pretty little thing sitting across from him, grinning like she doesn’t have a care in the world. Like she isn’t sitting next to someone most people would cross the street to avoid.

He taps his empty glass against the counter once before looking at her. “Guess it’s gettin’ late, huh?”

Following his gaze to the clock on the far wall, her doe eyes slightly widen as she makes a soft noise of surprise. “Damn. I didn’t even notice.”

“Too busy enjoyin’ my company, sweetheart?” Toji can't help but smirk for the umpteenth time that night.

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t deny it. “You’re entertaining, I’ll give you that.”

He chuckles, running a hand through his dark hair. “Flatter me any more, and I might start thinkin’ you like me.”

Tilting her head, she watches him with that same mischievous glint she’s had all night. “And if I did?”

Toji holds her gaze, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. He could play it off, tease her right back, but for some reason, he doesn’t. Instead, he lets the moment settle, the air between them thick with something unspoken.

Then, finally, he exhales, grabbing a few bills from his pocket and tossing them onto the counter. “C’mon. I’ll walk you out.”

She raises a brow. “What, afraid I can’t make it to the door on my own?”

“Nah,” Toji says, standing up and stretching lazily. “Just wanna make sure no one else tries to scoop up my company before I’m done with ‘em.”

An airy laugh leaves her lips as she shakes her head, but she slides off the stool anyway. As they make their way toward the exit, Toji’s hand naturally finds its place at the small of her back—not pushing, not pulling, just there. A quiet kind of possessiveness, the kind that says he’s keeping an eye on her, whether she needs it or not.

Outside, the night air is cool against her skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the club. The street is nearly empty, the distant hum of traffic the only real sound cutting through the quiet.

She takes a deep breath, looking up at the sky. “You know,” she muses, “I don’t usually stay out this late.”

Toji hums, lighting up a cigarette and taking a slow drag. “Yeah? What made tonight different?” He finally gets a good look at her. How tiny she looks compared to him, her arms wrapping around herself as she shields herself from the soft breeze of the late night.

She glances at him, something playful yet sincere in her expression. “Guess I just wanted to see how this story ends.”

Toji exhales a slow stream of smoke, watching her through half-lidded eyes. “And?”

She smiles. “Still figuring it out.”

Toji shakes his head, smirking as he flicks ash from the end of his cigarette. “You’re trouble, sweetheart.”

She grins, and Toji finds it fucking adorable. “Yeah, well… I think you like trouble.”

He chuckles, low and rough, before nudging her forward. “Go on, get home before you really start testing that theory.”

She takes a step back, watching him like she’s committing him to memory. Then, with a playful little salute, she turns on her heel and walks off into the night.

Toji watches her go, taking one last slow drag of his cigarette before huffing out a laugh. He realizes he didn't get her name, but he knew he wanted to get into just a little more trouble with his little sweetheart.

︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡ ︶︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡ ︶︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡ ︶︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡

another meet cute but I triedddd to make reader more softer. keyword 'tried' bc I always love when she keeps up with Toji. oh whaleeee!

[animamii]

i need some locked up toji headcannons real bad 😩

ohhh bebecita I gotchuu c; this is something slightt inbox me 4 more

lockedup!Toji always ends his phone calls with you by asking "So... whatcha wearing right now, princess?" Which you always respond with something along the lines of "you're ridiculous... you're impossible... you're too much..." along with that sweet lil giggle he loves so much.

lockedup!Toji always begs for you to send him pretty pictures with your letters. He misses seeing that face of yours. It always makes him smile when it's a simple, cute selfie. "There's my pretty girl..." he'd say to himself as his fingers brush over it. Then he gets to a picture of you showing too much cleavage or something a little more revealing and he's likeee AWOOOGAAA 😍😍 lmfao. But forreal he shuts his cell door and needs a little him time.

lockedup!Toji is addicted to his damn Honey Buns. His favorites are the creamy curl and jelly swirl. Something about that chocolate and cream. "The middle is all creamy, it reminds me of you." His nasty self would say.

lockedup!Toji would come out of the pen being a damn chef though. Since he had to use nasty ass processed food to make prison meals, he knows exactly how to use different ingredients to make some bomb ass food. But still,,,, he wants his damn honey buns and maybe will eat a jail spread occassionally.

lockedup!Toji always loves when you use those Hello Kitty stamps on the letters you send. Ofc his favorite sanrio character is Badtz Maru. But his favorite stamps are the ones of Hello Kitty and Dear Daniel. It always reminds him of you two.

lockedup!Toji always dedicates music to you, whether he tells it to you over the phone or in his letters. He always includes one song. Wholeheartedly dedicated Kiss Me Thru The Phone to you, lmfao and Honey Bun by Kodak Black. *I have a whole ass playlist for Toji + Sweetheart i luvvv it*

lockedup!Toji begging you to marry him so you can get conjugal visits. He can't stand seeing you looking so pretty from the other side of a glass. He needs to feel you and touch you and actually be fucking inside of you.

lockedup!Toji starts thinking about his future with you a lot. He wants to start a family with you, wants kids and a white picket fence house and all that shit. So he starts writing down baby names and all that stuff. He wants another son so bad, wants to name him Malachi.

lockedup!Toji always bragging about you to everyone else. It's commissary day, where he gets the packages you send + he gets to buy whatever he wants from the commissary store with the money on his books (he has Shiu send him some hideaway money he stashed every week). But all he really cares about is the packages you send. It's all so personal, every little touch you put into it *thinking ab doing a whole drabble on this lmk bbs's* "look at what my girl sent this time." He'd say to his celly with a smirk as he holds up all the snacks and cute little notes you write.

[animamii]

Kiss Me Thru The Phone | Toji Fushiguro

Toji's been locked up for too long and misses his pretty girl deeply.

Was listening to Kiss Me Thru The Phone by Soulja Boy, which was always my go to song for my irl jailbird cougarrrr. But Toji is better so it's his song now c;

warnings; smut, duh. phone sex.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧

This is a collect call from Tokyo Correctional Facility from

"Toji Fushiguro," his voice raspy and nonchalant as always, a stark contrast to the excitement bubbling inside you.

If you accept the charges, please press 1.

Like second nature you instantly press one. 'This phone call will be recorded and subject to monitoring...' the autonomous voice instructs. The line clicks, a soft trill signaling the connection, and then a faint beeping tone echoes through your receiver. Your heart pounds in anticipation, your grip on the phone tightening as the line goes silent for just a beat too long. A beeping tone goes off, and your heart beats heavily.

"Hey princess," Toji's voice, low and gravelly, rolls through the phone. A smile instantaneously forms on your face, it's been a while since you had spoken to Toji on the phone. His ass was always getting thrown into ad seg for one reason or another.

"Hi baby," your voice is soft and sweet, and Toji feels his heart swelling as he finally hears your voice in what feels like forever. No matter how hardened life makes him, hearing your voice always makes him melt.

“Damn, it’s good to hear you,” he mutters, his tone a little softer now. "They threw my ass in the hole cause some fuckface wanted to try and take the box of Honeybuns from the package you sent me last week."

"Of course they did," you reply with a light laugh, shaking your head. "You can't go a month without stirring up trouble, can you?"

"It's not my fault," Toji defends, the familiar cockiness in his voice making your stomach flutter. "You send me the good shit, princess. You think I'm gonna let some punk get his hands on my Honeybuns?"

You bite your lip to suppress a giggle, imagining him in his element, standing tall and intimidating, defending your care package like his life depended on it. "Well, at least now I know how much you appreciate my efforts."

"Appreciate?" Toji scoffs playfully. "Baby, I worship the ground you walk on for those packages. You should see these guys. They're practically drooling over the stuff you send me. It’s like I’m a king in here."

"Aweee babyyyy," you coo, biting your lip as your cheeks heat up. Toji always knew just what to say to make you feel giddy like a young girl in love for the first time. "Just for that I'll send you something extra special next week."

Toji lets out a low chuckle, the sound deep and raspy, sending a warm shiver down your spine. "You’re too good to me, princess. You’ve got me spoiled," he says, and though his tone is teasing, there’s a genuine softness beneath his words.

"Someone’s gotta take care of you," you reply, your voice playful but full of affection. "You’re lucky I love you enough to deal with all this drama."

"Lucky doesn’t even cover it," Toji mutters, his voice dropping an octave. "I don’t deserve you, but I’m not letting you go. Ever."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the weight of his sincerity making your chest tighten. "You don’t have to," you whisper. "I’m not going anywhere, Toji."

"Good," he says firmly, the possessiveness in his tone sending a rush of heat through you. "Cause when I get out of here, you’re mine. Completely. No one else gets a second of your time."

"You already have me," you say softly, the vulnerability in your voice making him pause.

"I know," he murmurs after a moment, his tone unusually tender. "And that’s the only thing keeping me sane in this place. Knowing I’ve got you waiting for me on the other side."

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them away, refusing to let the sadness take over. "I’ll always be here, baby. No matter how long it takes."

"Enough about me though," he tries to change the subject, hearing the vulnerability in your voice. He hates knowing you're missing him like that, especially when he can't do anything about it. "How’s my pretty girl?” he asks, his voice dropping to that lower, huskier tone that always makes your stomach flutter.

“I’m okay,” you reply, leaning back against the couch as you let yourself sink into his voice. “But I’d be better if you were here.”

A low chuckle rumbles through the phone. “Trust me, princess, I’d do anything to be there with you right now.” Toji looks around his surroundings, the dreary cement walls and identical cell doors that go on and on. He leans against the divider that separates all the phones, metal phone wire feeling cool against his arm. It's late at night, most of the prisoners already in their cells asleep. Toji was lucky enough to know someone on the inside, getting the privilege to have late night calls with you, getting as much privacy as he could get. A single guard supervises him haphazardly.

The thought of him—of his rough hands on your skin, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered all the things he wanted to do to you—makes heat pool low in your belly. The distance between you feels unbearable, but his voice keeps you grounded, tethered to the connection you share.

“What are you wearing?” he asks suddenly, his tone playful but suggestive.

“Toji,” you laugh, your cheeks flushing. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m serious,” he replies, his voice darkening with desire. “I need a little something to keep me going while I’m stuck in here.”

You glance down at your oversized t-shirt, wearing nothing but that and some panties. biting your lip as a grin creeps onto your face. “Nothing special,” you tease. “Just your t-shirt, the one I stole from you.”

"Just my shirt? Nothing else?" He clears his throat with a grunt, looking around to make sure nobody else could hear. Although let's face it, he wouldn't care regardless.

"Mmm that and some panties of course. Like I always wear to bed," you respond, playing with the hem of your shirt mindlessly. The shirt itself wafted of Toji's musky scent, piney with a dash of smoke and a hint of jasmine.

"What panties?" Toji tries to imagine you, all pretty and barefaced, ready for bed in one of his shirts that swallow your frame. No bra, the outline of your nipples showing through the soft fabric. The bottom of your ass poking out from under his shirt.

"The frilly lacy baby pink pair you got me from Victoria's Secret," pulling up your shirt just enough to see the panties you wear, Toji being oh so familiar with the pair. "You know, the ones I wore when we went to that fancy Brazilian steak house, and you made me keep them on as you fucked me in the bathroom?"

He groans softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Damn, you know what that does to me, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” you reply, your voice light but filled with heat. Toji started this little game, but you could play it better.

"Fuck I miss you princess," his voice is gravelly, needy as he bites his lip.

"I miss you too baby," your lip curls into a sweet smile, words sounding like sugar.

"No, like I really miss you," Toji looks down at the scratchy sweatpants he's forced to wear, seeing the bulge he now adorns getting bigger and bigger as he paints an image of your pretty self.

"Oh?"

"Wanna help me out ma?" The raspiness of his sultry voice has you weak in the knees and you could almost perfectly picture the wolfish grin he was wearing.

"Toji I don't know..." Feeling bashful, your teeth tug at your lip as you contemplate. Sure you've mailed him pretty pictures with way to much cleavage, some in revealing outfits and "bathing suits", but never have you ever had phone sex with him while he's been locked up.

"C'mon mama, I really need you right now. Miss you so much. Miss your gorgeous face. Miss your cute smile. That pretty pussy of yours." At this point he was rock hard, erection now prominent even in those baggy sweatpants.

"Aren't you in public right now, love?" Raising an eyebrow, you try to imagine Toji as he's in a corner of the public area, standing next to one of the phones that's stuck to the wall.

"Relax princess, it's already past curfew. I got special phone privileges courtesy of Shiu. Pays to know people inside," he clicks his tongue proudly, his smirk almost audible.

"Mmm okay, if you say so baby," sinking down more into the couch, obliging with a tint of pink on your cheeks.

"That's my girl." There's a slight pause, then a rustling sound as Toji leans closer to the phone. "Now, put the phone on speaker so I can hear every little thing, okay princess?"

"Okay, Toji." Turning on speakerphone, you set the phone on the arm of the couch right next to where your head rests. So, what do you want me to do first, baby?" you ask, your voice tinged with playfulness and a hint of arousal.

Toji's chuckle is low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. "Well, for starters... tell me exactly what you're wearing."

You bite your lip, glancing down at yourself before responding, "Like I said earlier, just your old shirt and that pair of baby pink lace panties. Nothing else."

His mind was so foggy with lust and need that he had forgot he asked you that, causing that hard predicament that sits in his pants. "Oh, right. That pretty pink pair that I like to slide to the side and fuck you in."

Your breathing hitches, the heat pooling in your core at his words. Toji’s voice, low and laden with want, is enough to make your body respond instantly. You shift slightly, your thighs squeezing together as the familiar ache begins to build.

“You remember everything, don’t you?” you tease, though your voice comes out softer than you intended.

“How could I forget?” he rasps, his tone sending a delicious shiver down your spine. “You looked so fucking good in them. Still do, I bet. Are they wet yet, princess?” Toji reels his memories, thinking of your legs spread open, showing that cute little damp patch of arousal that would soak through the frilly material.

Your cheeks flush crimson, his bluntness never failing to catch you off guard. “Maybe,” you admit shyly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs approvingly. “Touch yourself for me, baby. I wanna hear those sweet little sounds you make when you think of me.” A hand goes into his sweats, palming himself through his boxers. It didn't bother him in the slightest that anyone could see. His perfect girl was on the line, moaning and mewling just for him and he wanted—no needed—to get off to you.

“Toji,” you breathe out, the warmth spreading through your chest and settling low in your belly. You hesitate for just a moment before letting your hand slip beneath the hem of your shirt, your fingertips brushing against the lace of your panties. “I miss you,” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly.

“Fuck, I miss you too,” he groans, the sound of his restraint evident in his tone. “Keep going, princess. Tell me what you’re doing.”

Your hand slips beneath the lace, your fingers dipping into the slick heat between your thighs. “I’m... I’m touching myself,” you confess, your voice trembling with a mixture of embarrassment and desire.

“Good girl,” Toji growls, his words like a low purr that rumbles through the receiver. “You know how much I love hearing you, baby. Don’t hold back. Let me hear those pretty little moans.”

Your free hand clutches at the couch cushion as your fingers begin to move in slow, deliberate circles. The sound of Toji’s breathing, heavy and uneven, fills your ear and fuels the fire building inside you. Closing your eyes, you imagine it's him hovering over you, fingers teasing your clit just how he always does.

“Toji,” you whimper, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

“That’s it, princess,” he encourages, his voice thick with need. “Keep saying my name. Let me know how good it feels.”

You close your eyes, letting his voice guide you as your movements grow more insistent. “I wish you were here; my fingers can't do what yours do,” you whisper, your words shaky as the pleasure builds. “I need you so bad, Toji.”

“Fuck, baby, you’re killing me,” he groans, the sound of rustling fabric on his end letting you know he’s just as affected as you are. “I’d do anything to have you under me right now. To feel how tight you’d squeeze me when I’m deep inside you.” His hand finally snakes its way inside his boxers, his calloused finger soothing his aching red tip. Palm wrapped around the top, squeezing it in imitation of your tight walls.

"That's all I can think about, Toji," soft, needy whimpers leave your throat, "Having my legs on your shoulders as you break me off. Hitting that one spot deep inside me that always gets me creaming on your cock." Flashbacks of Toji's large hands holding you down, fucking into you as he forces you to watch, that frothy white ring around the base of his dick forming as juice splatter from his impact.

"Yeah, princess?" Toji groans, his voice dipping even lower, roughened by his own need. "You always know how to rile me up, don’t you? Keep talking, tell me exactly how you'd want me to fuck you."

You bite your lip, the weight of his words sending a fresh wave of heat through your core. "I’d want it slow at first," your fingers circle your clit agonizingly slow. Almost torturous like Toji does. "You’d tease me," you murmur, your voice catching as your fingers dip lower. "Make me beg for it, wouldn’t you? Make me tell you how much I need it, need you."

"Fuck," Toji growls, his breathing heavy in your ear. His hand strokes himself in sync with your words, his rough palm sliding over his length as he imagines you beneath him, squirming, needy, desperate. "I’d make you wait, baby. You know I love hearing you beg for me, hearing that pretty little voice say my name."

A shaky whimper escapes your lips, the sound almost too loud in the stillness of your living room. "I’d be so wet for you," you whisper, voice trembling as your fingers circle faster, dipping between your folds to gather more of your slickness. "You wouldn’t even have to ask, Toji. I’d be ready for you the second you touched me."

"Shit," he groans, gripping himself tighter as he pictures it. "You’d be dripping down your thighs, wouldn’t you? Making a fucking mess of yourself while you wait for me to fill you up."

"Yes," you gasp, your back arching against the couch as your body reacts to his words. Your free hand clutches at the fabric of his shirt, grounding yourself in his scent, his voice, the memory of his touch. "I need you so bad, Toji. I need to feel you stretching me out, filling me up until I can't take it anymore."

"Dip those pretty little fingers of yours inside your pussy, princess. Imagine it's me curling them and hitting that soft spot in ya," he grunts, trying to imagine the feeling of your tiny hole enveloping his large fingers.

You let out a soft moan, obeying his request, slipping two fingers into your warmth. The wet sound fills the quiet of the room, mixing with his heavy breathing on the line.

“I... I’m doing it, Toji,” you manage between hitched breaths. “It’s not the same... I can’t stretch myself like you do.”

“Fucking hell,” he growls, his hand pumping faster now, imagining the way your body clings to him when he’s buried inside you. “Tell me how it feels, princess. I need to hear everything.”

Your cheeks flush, the embarrassment drowned out by the heat curling in your belly. “It feels... good, but not enough. I can’t reach as deep as you, baby. I need you here. I need your fingers, your cock... all of you.”

“Shit, keep talking like that, and I’m gonna cum before you do,” he groans, his voice thick with frustration and longing. His strokes become erratic, the image of you—the sounds you're making—driving him closer to the edge. “I’d have you spread out under me right now, pretty legs shaking while I fuck you open. You’d take me so well, wouldn’t you?”

“Uh huh~,” you whimper, arching into your touch, fingers moving faster as you imagine him over you, his broad shoulders, the weight of his body pressing you down. “I’d take you so good... like I always do. I’d make such a mess for you.”

“You’d be dripping all over my cock, wouldn’t you? So tight, so perfect for me,” he rasps, his voice hitching slightly as his own hand works faster. You can hear the faint rustle of fabric, the wet sound of his strokes, and it sends a thrill through you, knowing he’s as close to the edge as you are.

“Toji, I’m so close,” you whine, your voice trembling with the mounting pleasure.

“Good girl,” he groans, his tone commanding but filled with adoration. “Let it go, princess. Cum for me. I wanna hear those pretty sounds when you fall apart for me.”

His words push you over the edge, a broken cry escaping your lips as your body tenses and then releases, waves of pleasure crashing through you. Toji’s name spills from your mouth in a litany, each moan sweeter than the last.

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice a low growl as he follows you over the edge, his own release ripping through him. You can hear his breaths, heavy and uneven, as he murmurs your name like a prayer.

For a moment, the two of you are silent, the only sounds the soft hum of the line and your shared breaths as you come down from the high.

“I needed that,” Toji finally mutters, his voice lighter now, the teasing edge creeping back in. "Been so pent up, jerking off to those pretty pictures you mail me like I'm a horny teenager."

You laugh softly, trying to imagine a sexually frustrated Toji hunched over your selfies trying to get himself off. “You’re insatiable, Toji.”

“For you? Always,” he replies, the warmth in his voice making your chest tighten with affection. "I miss being able to bend you over and fuck you wherever and whenever I want."

"Mmmm, I miss that too, baby," you hum, walking to the sink to wash your arousal-stained fingers. "Miss having my man with me all the time. Gets so lonely without my lover."

"I fucking love you, you know that?" Toji murmurs after a beat, his voice softer now, filled with an almost boyish sincerity.

A smile tugs at your lips, your heart swelling at his words. "I love you too, Toji," you reply, your voice tender.

The automated voice interrupts the moment, announcing that the call will end in one minute. Your chest tightens at the reminder, and you clutch the phone, wishing you could hold onto him just a little longer.

“You better be ready for me when I get out,” he says, his tone turning serious, almost possessive. “I’m not wasting a single second. First thing I’m doing is coming straight to you, and you’re not leaving my bed for days.”

"I'll be counting down the days, baby," a honeyed mewl leaves your lips, feeling light and airy still from your orgasm. "Until then... Behave yourself Toji Fushiguro."

He chuckles, the sound low and rich, and you can practically hear the grin in his voice. "No promises, princess," he teases. "But I’ll try. For you. Now before it hangs up, kiss me through the phone, baby."

Your heart squeezes at his request, the playful yet sincere edge in his voice making your chest ache with longing. Pressing the phone closer to your lips, you whisper, "Mwah," letting it carry all the tenderness you can muster.

A low hum of approval comes through the line. "Mmm, that’s what I like to hear," he drawls, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "I’ll be dreaming about that one, princess."

The automated voice chimes in again, colder this time, signaling the end of the call in mere seconds. "I love you," you blurt out, the words rushing out like a lifeline.

"I love you more," he says firmly, the weight of his promise grounding you. "Be good for me, princess. I’ll be home before you know it."

The line clicks dead before you can respond, the abrupt silence leaving an ache in its wake. You lower the phone slowly, staring at the screen as if willing it to light up again with his name. His words replay in your head. You could hold it down for him, he'll be home before you know it.

[animamii]

lockedup!Toji loves his Honeybuns

The phone rang just as you were settling onto the couch, a mug of tea in your hands and a show playing faintly in the background. You glanced at the caller ID, already knowing who it was. With a small smile, you picked up, bracing yourself for whatever Toji had cooked up this time. After accepting the call, hearing that way too long trill, you finally get to speak.

"Hello?" you greeted, feigning nonchalance. Although every phone call from Toji has you giggling and kicking your feet, let's be reallll.

"Hey, princess," Toji's deep voice rumbled through the line, warm and familiar despite the scratchy sound of the prison phone. "Whatcha doin’?"

You rolled your eyes, though the grin tugging at your lips betrayed your fondness. "Just relaxing. What about you? Playing king of the yard or something?"

Toji chuckled lowly. "Nah, nah. Somethin’ like that, though. Listen, baby girl, I gotta ask you for somethin’ real important."

You tilted your head, immediately curious. "Important, huh? What is it this time? A file baked into a cake? Need me to smuggle something in my mouth then tongue kiss it into yours?"

"Close," he quipped. "But nah, just a few more honeybuns."

"Honeybuns?" You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you. "Are you serious? Didn’t I just send you a whole box last week?"

"Yeah, and they’re gone," Toji said, completely unapologetic. "Ate most of 'em the minute they cleared it and gave it to me. Besides, those things are gold in here."

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the couch. "Gold? What, are you trading them for favors or something?"

"Don’t worry ‘bout that," he replied, his tone light but teasing. "Just know your man’s gotta keep his stash stocked. You wouldn’t wanna see me suffer without my sugar fix, would you?"

"You're unbelievable," you teased, shaking your head even though he couldn’t see it. "But fine. I’ll send more. Anything else while I’m at it? Chips? Cookies? A five-course meal?"

"Nah, just the honeybuns," Toji said, and you could practically hear the grin in his voice. "You’re the best, princess. Knew I could count on you."

"Yeah, yeah," you said with mock exasperation. "You’re lucky I like you so much."

"Damn right, I’m lucky," he replied smoothly. "I’ll make it up to you when I get out, I swear. Dinner, a movie—whatever you want. Just me and you, baby."

Your heart softened at his words, a small smile creeping onto your face. "I’m holding you to that, Toji. No excuses."

"Deal," he said without hesitation. "But for now, just keep those honeybuns comin’, alright? They’re the only thing sweeter than you in here."

You rolled your eyes again, though your cheeks warmed at the cheesy line. "Alright, alright. I’ll send them out tomorrow. But you owe me, big time."

"I always owe you, princess," he said, his tone softening. "You’re the reason I get through this mess."

Your chest tightened at the sincerity in his voice. No matter how much trouble he got into, no matter how ridiculous his requests, you couldn’t help but love him for moments like this.

"Stay out of trouble, okay?" you said gently.

"Can’t make any promises," he replied with a chuckle. "But I’ll try. Love you, baby girl."

"Love you too, Toji. I’ll talk to you soon."

As the call ended, you found yourself smiling down at your phone, already mentally adding honeybuns to your shopping list. For all his tough exterior and troublemaking ways, Toji had a soft spot that only you got to see.

Later that evening, as you wandered the aisles of the grocery store, you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself, remembering his unapologetic confession about devouring the last box. You grabbed not one but two boxes of honeybuns this time, thinking about how his face would light up—well, as much as it could under the circumstances—when he got them.

The cashier gave you a curious look as they scanned your purchases. "Big fan of honeybuns?" they asked with a smile.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Not me. Someone special."

And special he was, even if he had a knack for driving you crazy with his antics. As you packed up your bags and headed home, you realized that, despite the distance and the challenges, you’d do just about anything to keep Toji smiling—even if it meant being his personal honeybun supplier.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆

I'm literally addicted to locked up Toji rn what can I say I love a hot felon ughhh

[animamii]

lockedup!Toji and his girlfriend that's sweeter than a Honey Bun 💞

𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕪𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥. | 𝕞𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕓𝕠𝕒𝕣𝕕. | 𝕥𝕠𝕛𝕚 + 𝕤𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕔𝕠𝕕𝕖𝕕.

𝕵𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖞 𝕾𝖜𝖎𝖗𝖑 ୨ৎ 𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖎𝖈𝖘

Kiss Me Thru The Phone ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ smut

The one that started it all; toji calls his sweetheart and things get a lil sticky

Fuck Yo Man! ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ fluff

"boy come on!", you sure are a gift from God in that moment.

one of many lockedup!Toji + reader first meet origin stories. inspired by Fuck Yo Man by King Von.

Angels Get Their [Chicken] Wings ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ fluff

what is such a pretty girl like you doing in an ugly place like this?

another first meet origin story. lockedup!Toji x sweetheart!reader

𝕬𝖕𝖕𝖑𝖊 𝕮𝖎𝖓𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖔𝖓 ୨ৎ 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖙 𝖓' 𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖙 𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖇𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖘

HoneyBunz ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ fluff

Toji needs something for his sweettooth

Love Letterz ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ fluff

You sure are sweet for sending Toji letters 💌

First Calls ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ fluff

Toji doesn't use his first phone call for anyone but you

Break It In ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ suggestive

Toji calls you after months of going MIA

His Ol' Lady ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ fluff

Toji loves his ol' lady, her pretty pictures and lovely letters

His Harley ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ fluff

Mini drabble about Toji's lil Harley Quinn

Headcanons ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪

I

𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖞 𝕮𝖚𝖗𝖑 ୨ৎ 𝕷𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘𝖚𝖈𝖍

Un ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ fluff

pairs with this drabble

[animamii]

thinking about lockedup!Toji and a Harley Quinn type reader. They match each other's crazy real badd. She's just so pretty and girly but god damn is she fucking psycho. She's just so fucking in love with Toji she wants to be his mini me. Wants to do everything he does. When she sees Toji toting his 10 MM Smith & Wesson, she wants one too, but in pink of course. Every time he'd come home after a job, or from a little robbery stint, she'd always look at him with wide, adoring eyes as he'd drop the stacks of cash in front of her. She'd take a rubber band off one of the stacks, and just fling it up into the air giggling as it all rains down on her. Toji can't help but smile at her, how cute she looks. He might even ask her to dance for him as he throws the cash at her, only hundred dollar bills of course, cause that's what his baby is worth. Big money only. She wants to be included in his little life of crime so bad, wants to be his little Bonnie to his Clyde.

[animamii]

Fuck Yo Man! | Toji Fushiguro

"see imma killer, but i got feelins',

i catch you widdem i jus might kill him"

the origin story of lockedup!Toji and y/n; inspired by Fuck Yo Man by King Von

✧:･ﾟ( ̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:̲̅]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅ ) ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ( ̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:̲̅]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅ ) ･ﾟ✧✧:･ﾟ( ̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:̲̅]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅ ) ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ( ̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:̲̅]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅ ) ･ﾟ✧

Toji's jaw was clenched tight, eyes narrowed as he eyed down some target he didn't give two shits about. It was just another job and he desperately needed money. Rent was definitely due. From a distance Toji watched the guy, some scruffy looking fella with dirty blonde hair, enter the liquor store. He knew how this game was played—watch, wait, strike. The moment presented itself when they slipped up, moving careless like they forgot they were at war. He could see the guy through the windows, walking through the aisles and grabbing a soda before he heads to the counter near the entrance. It was now or never.

Toji, dressed in a black hoodie over his usual fitted black tee, sauntered with that usual sag in his step, gun clutched inside the band of his sweats. His eyes dart back and forth as he pulls up his hood, cautious for any witnesses or passersby. At this time of day, the streets were empty. The bell above the liquor store’s door jingled softly as Toji stepped inside, shoulders squared, gaze sharp. Dim fluorescent lighting made the store look hazy, with the stale scent of cheap booze and cigarette smoke filling the air. The cashier, a younger guy with tired eyes, barely looked up from his phone.

The blonde guy was at the counter now, pulling crumpled bills from his pocket. Toji had done this a thousand times before; fast, clean, no loose ends. His grip tightened around the handle of his piece, still tucked into his waistband. He took one step closer—then everything went to hell.

The guy turned at the last second, eyes widening in recognition, and Toji knew—he knew. Before Toji could even pull the trigger, the blonde swung first. The soda bottle in his hand shattered against Toji’s temple, sending shards of glass and sticky liquid dripping down his face.

Toji barely flinched.

With a grunt, he grabbed the guy by his collar and slammed him into the counter. The cashier yelled, diving under the register as Toji yanked his gun free and pressed it against the guy’s ribs at an angle.

"Stupid move," Toji muttered, more annoyed than in pain.

The guy’s breath hitched, his hands trembling and eyes blown wide with fear. Toji had done enough jobs to know when someone was about to beg. But he had no patience for it.

He pulled the trigger; the muffled pop of the silencer was the only sound before the blonde crumpled to the floor. The moment stretched, heavy, thick with something unspoken. Then... Sirens.

"Shit."

Toji turned on his heel, feet already moving before his brain fully caught up. He burst out of the liquor store and onto the street, his heart slamming against his chest. The flashing red and blue glow of patrol cars lit up in the distance, their engines roaring closer. His rushed jog had now turned into a full sprint, breaking his neck to look back every few seconds to see just how close the cops were to being on his ass.

"God, forgive me. I know I'm wrong, but please, get my ass out of this situation..." Was all he could think.

His breath came in short, sharp bursts, forehead damp with sweat as he ducked into an alleyway, vaulting over a trash bin. The sirens wailed louder. His legs burned. He knew this part—run until you can’t, then run some more. But even Toji knew he couldn’t outrun the entire city. Jumping over a metal fence with practiced ease, he went back to his rushed jog. Chest heavily rising and falling with each pant of a breath, he tried to find somewhere to duck off to.

That’s when he saw her.

A girl. Standing just outside a rusted apartment door, watching him with something eerily calm in her eyes. For a split second, neither of them moved. Then she did the unthinkable. She lifted a hand. Beckoned.

"Boy, come on."

Toji hesitated. Just for a moment. Then he was moving, slipping past her and into the dimly lit apartment. She shut the door behind him, sealing him away from the chaotic mess that he had created outside. He was breathing heavily, dripping with sweat and his mind racing as he looked at the floor. When he looked up, she was staring him down, arms crossed. She looked at him in silence, studying his face for a second.

"Do you still got your pole?"

Toji glanced at the gun in his grip, then back at her. A slow, amused half smile curled on his lips.

"You already know."

The apartment was small, warm white lighting coming from one of those tall lamps that are always stationed in a corner. The faint scent of something floral lingered in the air—maybe perfume, maybe detergent. It didn’t matter. Toji wasn’t focused on that. He was focused on her. The girl stood a few feet away, arms crossed with her head tilted slightly as she looked him over. Her expression was unreadable, but she wasn’t panicking. No fear in her eyes. That alone was enough to make Toji wary.

"You gonna keep standing there bleeding on my floor, or you gonna sit your ass down?"

Toji exhaled, finally registering the sharp sting on his temple where the bottle had cracked against him. He reached up, fingers coming away sticky with half-dried blood and soda. Half of his face was covered in blood, mixing with the sweat that made his hair cling to his forehead.

"Mmcht," he muttered, finally pushing himself off the wall and walking further into the room, gun still loosely gripped in his hand. She didn’t flinch, just nodded toward the couch.

"First aid kit’s under the sink," she said casually, as if she hadn’t just pulled a total stranger off the street and let him into her home.

Toji dropped onto the couch with a grunt, the adrenaline slowly wearing off, leaving behind exhaustion and the faint buzz of leftover tension. He let his head fall back against the cushions, chest still rising and falling from the chase.

"You do this often?" he finally asked, cracking an eye open to look at her. That's when he finally took in every detail. She adorned a cut wife beater tank top, snug against her body. Toji noticed she wasn't wearing a bra either, her nipples softly protruding through the textured white fabric. He also noticed how snug the printed boxer shorts she wore were, showing off the cute shape of her booty. A gold anklet was wrapped around her left foot, and she was barefoot.

"Do what?" she replied, grabbing the kit from under the sink.

"Pick up bloody strangers off the street."

She snorted. "Only the interesting ones."

Toji huffed a quiet laugh, watching as she sat down on the coffee table in front of him, popping open the first aid kit. He could have done it himself—he wasn’t new to patching up wounds—but he let her take over, watching her carefully as she dabbed at the cut on his forehead with an alcohol pad. It immediately stung, Toji hissing and instinctively jerking back.

"Oh, don’t be a baby," she muttered, gripping his chin and forcing him still.

Bold. He liked that.

"You don’t even know what I did out there," he said, watching her through half-lidded eyes. Toji started to soak even more details about her, the way her hair fell. The feeling of her acrylic nails as they propped his chin up to look at her. The way her lips were slightly parted as she focused on cleaning up his wound. The little things.

She didn’t stop, didn’t even hesitate. "Don’t need to."

That made him pause. His whole life, people only did things for him out of fear, out of money, out of necessity. But she? She had nothing to gain. No reason to help him. And yet, here she was. Quite honestly Toji was confused, she must've had a few screws loose to have let a bleeding man who was running from the cops into her home.

"You crazy or somethin’?"

She smiled, a soft puff of air leaving her lips, "Maybe."

Silence settled between them as she continued cleaning him up, her fingers brushing against his skin, surprisingly gentle despite the sharpness in her gaze. Toji wasn’t used to softness. Not in the life he lived, not in the world he knew. And yet, here he was—sitting on a stranger’s couch, letting her clean him up like it was just another Tuesday. His body finally started to relax, the weight of the day's events sinking into his bones. The adrenaline had done its job, but now, it was slipping away, leaving behind something heavier. The warmth of the apartment felt foreign against his skin, too safe, too still.

"You got a name?" he asked, his voice rough and low.

She didn’t look up from her work, just nodding and carefully placing a bandage over the gash on his forehead. "I do."

Toji smirked at that, tilting his head slightly. "You gonna tell me?"

She finally met his gaze, lips curving just a little. "What do you need my name for, mystery man? You ain't plannin’ on stickin’ around, are you?"

Toji chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. She had a point. He didn’t even know why he was still here. He should’ve been plotting his next move, figuring out how to lay low for the next few days. And yet…

"I'd like to know the name of the person who saved my ass," he said simply. She seemed to consider that, eyes scanning his face as if deciding whether or not he was worth the answer.

"Y/N."

Toji let the name roll around in his head for a second. It suited her.

"Toji," he offered in return, looking directly into her eyes as if this were a regular meet cute. He started to think back to when he was running, praying to God. In his twisted head he started to think, this is an angel sent from God himself.

"Well, Toji, you should wash your hands of any residue or whatever then get some rest. I’d say you’re safe for now, but who knows how long that’ll last." Getting up from the coffee table, she goes to throw away the soiled cotton pads.

Toji snorts, "You always this welcoming?"

"Only when fate drops a half-dead man at my doorstep," she smiles, washing her hands in the kitchen sink, "Bathroom is down that hall to the left."

Nodding, Toji finally gets up from the couch, his body now aching from the lack of adrenaline and strain from every fucking thing. Turning on the bathroom light, he takes in his surroundings. Girly face washes and makeup. Loose hair ties and bobby pins. A gold nameplate of yours written in cursive font. Cute. His large, calloused hand pumps the foam soap, peach bellini. He continues to look around your bathroom as he lathers his hands.

That's when he starts to notice... little things. Things that didn’t quite add up.

Toji had been in plenty of women’s places before, enough to know the usual setup—perfume on the counter, a few hair products, maybe a scented candle or two. But this? This was different. The towel on the rack was damp, like it had just been used. The toothbrush in the holder wasn’t alone—there was another one. Slightly worn down, like it had been used regularly. His eyes flicked to the razor in the shower, the one next to the pink one. A man’s razor.

His jaw tightened. She lived with someone.

Toji stared at himself in the mirror, water still running, hands resting on the edges of the sink. His reflection looked like hell—hair all disheveled, bruises forming on his cheek bone where the bottle had hit him, exhaustion settling in his eyes. But his mind wasn’t on himself anymore. It was on her.

Why the hell had she helped him? Was she just reckless, or was there something more? With a slow exhale, he turned off the faucet and grabbed a towel, drying his hands. He didn’t like walking into a situation blind. He especially didn’t like walking into someone else’s mess.

Stepping out of the bathroom, he caught sight of her in the kitchen, tying her hair up as she rummaged through the fridge. The overhead light cast a warm glow on her skin, and for a split second, she looked… normal. Like this was just another night in her home.

But Toji knew better.

"You live alone?" His voice came out casual, too casual.

Glancing at him over her shoulder, the faintest smirk tugs at her lips. "Why? You worried?"

Toji didn’t answer. Just leaned against the doorway, arms crossed.

She pulled out a bottle of water, unscrewing the cap before taking a slow sip. Her eyes stayed on him the entire time, like she knew exactly what he’d been thinking about in that bathroom.

"Nah," she finally said, licking a drop of water off her lip. "I don’t."

Toji’s grip on his forearm tightened.

"You expecting them back tonight?" His voice was level, but it lingered with an underlying cautiousness and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on.

She tilted her head, watching him. Measuring. "No," she said after a beat, placing the bottle on the counter. "Not tonight." Toji studied her, the way she held herself, the way she wasn’t scrambling to explain or reassure. She wasn’t afraid. Not of him. Not of whatever situation she had going on.

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of Toji’s lips, something dark and amused settling in his gaze. "You always this reckless, or just gotta thing for strays?"

Leaning against the counter, she crossed her arms over her chest, still unfazed. "Maybe I just like a little chaos."

Toji huffed out a quiet chuckle, running a hand through his sweat damped hair. Yeah, she was crazy. Or stupid. Maybe both. But there was something about her, something that kept him from walking right out that door. His fingers absentmindedly traced over the grip of his gun before slipping it back into his waistband. Eyes flickering to her again, watching the way she swayed slightly on her feet, relaxed. Comfortable.

Like she wasn’t standing in front of a killer. Like she wasn’t fully aware of what she’d just let into her home.

"You should be more careful," he muttered, rolling his shoulders as he stepped closer, his presence taking up more space in the tiny kitchen.

She didn’t move, didn’t shrink away. Just held his gaze with that same, unreadable expression. "You gonna be the one to teach me a lesson?"

Toji’s smirk widened, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest. "I don’t think you’d survive that, sweetheart."

Something flashed in her eyes—challenge, maybe amusement. "You’d be surprised what I can handle."

Toji wasn’t sure if it was the exhaustion settling into his bones, some leftover adrenaline still thrumming through his veins, or just the sheer absurdity of the situation. But he found himself shaking his head with a smirk, exhaling a slow breath.

y/n moved with ease, walking past him to grab something from a drawer. Toji took the opportunity to let his eyes trail over her again, memorizing little things he hadn’t noticed before. The way her stack of gold necklaces caught the dim light, the curve of her waist, the slow, deliberate way she moved—like she had nothing to fear. Like she knew exactly who she was letting into her space.

The apartment was small, but cozy in a way that felt lived in. Not just a space, but a home. It was a foreign concept to Toji, who was used to cheap motels, dingy safe houses, and places he never intended to stay in for long. But this place—it smelled like vanilla and a hint of tobacco, had blankets thrown haphazardly over the couch, a mug half-filled with cold tea on the counter. It had warmth. A thing he didn’t deserve yet found himself sinking into.

"You wanna tell me why you were out there bleeding all over the damn sidewalk?" she asked, not looking up as she pulled out a joint and a pack of cigarettes. Flicking open the carton's top, she sticks it out to offer him one.

Toji tilted his head, amused as his fingers fish for a cigarette out of the box. "You really wanna know, or you just making conversation?"

She popped the joint between her lips, using one hand to bring a pink patterned clipper lighter up to the tip to light it. The cherry of the joint started to glow a faint red as she inhaled slowly, eyes half-lidded as she studied him through the curl of smoke.

"You don’t gotta tell me," she said, finally exhaling, "but I figure if you’re hiding out here, I should at least know if I gotta start packing a bag."

Toji gave her a lopsided grin, shaking his head. "Ain’t got nothing to do with you, sweetheart. Just a job gone messy."

Her gaze flickered to the gun still tucked at his waist, her expression once again unreadable. "Messy how?"

Toji took his time lighting his cigarette, taking a slow drag before answering. "Client wanted someone gone. I made sure they were gone." He exhaled the smoke, watching her reaction. "Problem is, someone else was watching. Cops got there quicker than expected."

She simply hummed like he’d just told her the weather. "Unlucky."

Toji huffed a laugh, smoke coming out of his nose. "Yeah, somethin’ like that."

Silence settled between them, thick but not uncomfortable. Toji leaned back against the couch, letting the weight of the day press into his bones. His temple still throbbed from the broken bottle, but the bleeding had stopped. God the things he'd do for a perc right now.

"You ain’t scared?" he finally asked, wondering how a tiny girl like her could be so nonchalant with a six-foot-two criminal sitting in her living room.

She met his gaze, something slow and knowing in her eyes. "Of you?" She let the question hang for a moment before shaking her head. "Nah."

Toji exhaled another cloud of smoke, deep blue eyes watching her closely. "Why’s that?"

She tapped the joint's ashes into her heart shaped ashtray that sat on top of the coffee table, leaning forward in the seat perpendicular to the couch, elbow resting on her thigh. "Cause if you wanted to kill me, you’d have done it already."

Toji chuckled lowly, licking his lips. "You sure about that?"

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. "Yeah," she said simply.

He stared at her for a long moment, taking another slow drag of his cigarette. She was right, of course. If he had planned to kill her, he wouldn’t have wasted time talking. Wouldn’t have let her patch him up. But there was something about her.

Knocking him out of his thoughts, the wailing of sirens blares through the air. Bright white lights flashing through the curtains of the front windows. Both of them look towards the front door, silent. Guess it was the kind of situation that called for an all-night search.

"Well, looks like you're stuck here for the night."

Toji let out a slow exhale, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he glanced toward the window. The red and blue lights cut through the thin curtains, casting eerie shadows across the walls. He should’ve felt trapped, on edge. But instead, he found himself oddly calm.

"Shit luck," he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair before taking another drag of his cigarette.

She didn’t look the least bit concerned as she took another slow pull from her joint, watching him through half-lidded eyes. "Yeah, well," she exhaled a stream of smoke, "guess that means you’ll be getting real comfortable."

Toji chuckled under his breath. "Seriously though, you got a few screws loose or just got a soft spot for trouble?"

The corner of her lip quirked up as she leaned back into the chair, joint snug between her two long acrylic nails. "Wouldn’t call it soft. Just got good instincts."

Toji hummed, tilting his head. "That so?" His cigarette sat tucked between his pink lips, and she could see the sharpness in his canines as he spoke.

"Mmhmm." She tapped her ashes into the ashtray again, her gaze steady. "And my instincts tell me you’re not as reckless as you act."

That caught Toji’s attention. His smirk faltered just slightly, eyes narrowing as he studied her. Most people assumed he was all brawn, no thought behind his actions. But her? She saw something else.

"That what you think?" he mused.

She nodded. "You wouldn't have made it this far otherwise."

Toji let her words sit between them, a strange mix of amusement and curiosity stirring in his gut. She wasn’t wrong. He’d survived this long because he was careful, calculated—even when things went south. But what did that mean for right now? He should’ve been looking for an exit, planning his next move. But instead, he was still here. In her space. Letting the sirens wail outside without so much as a flinch.

She stubbed out what was left of her joint and stood, stretching her arms over her head before giving him a lazy glance. "Couch pulls out into a bed," she said. "Sheets are in the closet. I’d offer you my bed, but I don’t know you like that."

Toji let out a low chuckle. "Yeah? And yet, you let me in your house."

She shrugged, turning toward the hallway. "Like I said—good instincts."

Toji watched her disappear into the dimly lit hall, the scent of smoke and vanilla lingering in the air behind her. He exhaled, leaning his head back against the couch.

Yeah. He was stuck here for the night. And maybe… he didn’t mind.

✧:･ﾟ( ̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:̲̅]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅ ) ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ( ̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:̲̅]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅ ) ･ﾟ✧✧:･ﾟ( ̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:̲̅]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅ ) ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ( ̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:̲̅]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅ ) ･ﾟ✧

omgeezyyyy I had so many different ways I wanted lockedup!Toji and y/n to meet I can't choose!! But I fckin love this song and I'm a sucker for sampling a song for a fic. I miiight write other versions of y/n meeting Toji but I just hadz to write this!!

alsoooo I wanna make this a multipart this is just part oneeee

tags ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ @psoycy @yourname-exee