#toji au

[retiredteabag]

Disney Princes I Associate with JJK Men - a brief analysis

masterlist

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Nanami - Kristoff

Nanami is canonically sassier than most give him credit for, especially when he is overworked or having a bad day.

He is pretty gruff when you first get to know him but he is also fiercely loyal and protective.

Many might see him as a "loner" but he seems decently content with being on his own.

Although Nanami worked in a white-collar environment, he is still a sorcerer and equally as hard-working in his blue-collar field.

On occasion, he is grumpy (with Gojo lol) even so, more than anything, he cares for those he loves, and makes many sacrifices to show for it.

Blond?

Gojo - Flynn

Satoru is SO Flynn.

They use charm and good looks to get whatever they want. This may be perceived as shallow, but they still have deep roots.

Flynn has the most "personality" of the princes in the films but does not see himself that way. He is aware of his flaws, and sees himself almost as a fraud.

Like Satoru, he is almost incapable of seeing that there is more to his character than others would see.

Toji - Aladdin

If Dimitri from the Anastasia film was a Disney prince, I might have gone with him but Aladdin fits nearly as well.

Their characters are both shown as being more than what they seem. A "diamond in the ruff" shall we say.

He is not above stealing or lying, and may actively manipulate a narrative to get what they want. Despite this, they do not necessarily have malicious intent, but rather, just want to survive.

They are both heavily motivated by freedom and willing to take risks to acquire it.

Both men become the best versions of themselves when they find love.

I also believe that they might have similar insecurities *cough* riffraff *cough* street rat.

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Next up: Suguru, Sukuna, and Choso any guesses?

all fanart I got on Tumblr, however, I recognize @hunnismokah, @thatsallitchief, and @- narutoss.ramen on Instagram

[mysteria157]

This is—I just—

Lu I inhaled this, wtf. I need more. I need more. I need more.

Toji is going through it. I say this all the time but Toji LOVED mamaguro. Threw away his life, stopped killing, became what they both needed to keep her. The emotions that would take from a man like him, while effortless, were probably so strong that he had no choice but to lock them away when she passed. And now, with the reader, those feelings are rattling again and they make him uncomfortable and upset and wary. The fact that he had to leave in the middle of a conversation speaks volumes. The way you wrote it was breathtaking. It makes my chest tight because I just want him to be happy for once.

And the club scene?? Her costume, the way she danced?? You’re so detailed with her movements. I could feel the tempo as I read, like I was in the crowd watching her move. And to know that this is also pieces of your culture? That this is fragments of Lu in these words? I ate it up! I love learning more about others. Thank you for sharing this piece of yourself 💕💕

The fact that Kirara and Shoko tease how she is such a shy and sweet person and then becomes this fiery dancer, really shows a different side of the readers personality. She had the audience—and Toji—hooked.

“Uncomfortable? No. Fighting hard against calling you a beautiful goddess? Yes.”

Same, Toji, same LOL

And the twist at the end?? GOD, I’m not ready. I mean I am, but BOY am I in for a ride.

Ahhh I’m so excited for this series, Lu. Can’t wait to see what the next chapter brings!

Return To Sender

Part two of De Novo (Toji x Reader). All parts as well as content warnings can be found here!

a/n: Hello! I am very happy with this. I struggled on how I wanted to present apart of my own culture while getting through my analysis. This chapter is a bit lengthy but that's okay lol. Thank you for reading and hope you enjoy!

The job had been quick—clean, like always. Toji moved through the darkened room, the faint tang of gunpowder still lingering in the air as he looked over his work

Middle aged man, maybe 40. Bad smoking habit, horrid hairline and a thing for faux gaudy Versace print from the look of his matching jogger set. “Hm.” He stepped over the body, his face expressionless while checking the contents of his latest marks pockets.

Wallet, phone with a now shattered screen, keys and some candy.

Toji helped himself to something called a chewy lite while sifting through the wallets contents. All run of the mill cards, bit of cash and random receipts but a card with a Roppongi address messily written across the matte finish caught his attention.

“Running from business? Dirty boy.”

He pocketed the card and barely spared a second glance as he holstered his weapon. The only sounds were his own footsteps and the muted hum of the city beyond the window as he propped the dead man up in the bathtub. This part of the city felt empty, even in the middle of the night. He preferred it that way.

Shiu was waiting for his call, so Toji slipped his phone from his pocket as he made his way down a back stairwell. He pressed the call button, listening to the dial tone, his mind already drifting as he waited for Shiu to pick up.

“It’s done,” Toji muttered as soon as he heard Shiu’s voice.

“Good,” Shiu replied, sounding unsurprised, as always. “I’ll clear it on my end. Are you heading out tonight?”

Toji gave a brief grunt of confirmation, glancing at his watch. “I’ll be back by morning.”

There was a pause on Shiu’s end, and then a clipped, “Alright. Just keep a low profile. Go to the butcher when you make it back to town.”

The line went dead, leaving Toji alone again, his thoughts thick and tangled as he pocketed the phone. Shiu was efficient, reliable; he trusted him to handle things, and the basis of their strange relationship was built on the brotherly trust they had for one another.

The buildings security leaving meant he was free to leave, his job here complete. The night was cool against his skin as he stepped outside, rain misting through the air, yet he hardly felt it, hardly registered the wet slick of the pavement beneath his boots as he walked back to his hotel.

Inside, Toji stripped off his blood-streaked clothes, methodically packing them in a plastic bag he would toss somewhere on the way to the airport. He turned on the shower, the sound of water filling the tiny bathroom, and stepped under the stream, closing his eyes as he let it cascade over his skin.

And yet, even as the water ran over him, he felt nothing—no sense of relief, no real need to scrub away the evidence of his work. It was just another task, another motion, another night.

The scalding heat of the shower did nothing to clear his head. He leaned forward, bracing himself against the tiles as steam clouded around him, his thoughts adrift. Was this just how it was now? The same endless routine, going through the cognitive process without pause, without thought? He opened his eyes, chuckling as the ghost of a smirk curled on his lips at the absurdity of it all.

As he dried off, the buzz in his mind faded slightly. He dressed quickly and packed his backpack before heading out to catch his flight. Each step, each action, was methodical, mechanical—like clockwork. Nothing about this felt real, and in a way, that made it easier.

“The less questions you ask, the better. Do the job, get paid, live knowing you just knocked off scum.”

Toji couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head remembering just how easy Shiu made it all sound. A fresh first time father with no family to help but a family friend who tried to kill him once.

Two jobs a month, tell everyone you work security if they ask, make it look like an accident if possible and pray you aren’t stupid enough to get caught or for the powers that be to get tired of you.

Easy.

By the time he was settled on the plane with the hum of the engines vibrating beneath him, he found his eyes growing heavy, his thoughts blurring. The lights dimmed as the plane took off, Istanbul's skyline shrinking below him as he drifted into sleep.

Toji was back in Tokyo but knew he wouldn’t feel right until he had his fix of food. He dropped his bag off at home before going to the restaurant, the familiar scent of simmering broth and spices thick in the warm, palely lit air. The usual hum of clattering dishes in the kitchen filled the dining room with it being a slow night. A muted background, leaving an almost intimate silence that seemed to settle just for him.

You walked up to his usual table and stood across from him, close enough that he could see the subtle gleam of light in your eyes, the small, knowing curve of your lips as you looked at him.

"Back so soon? Feels like you were only gone for one day." you murmured, your voice low and teasing as you reached out, fingertips brushing over the back of his hand. The touch was tentative at first, a mere whisper of contact, but it sent a pulse of warmth through him, something familiar and comforting. He didn’t pull away, though. Instead, he found himself turning his hand over, meeting your touch halfway, his rough palm against your smooth, warm skin before he pulled you into his lap.

“What can I say, baby doll? I missed you too much to take my time.”

Toji leaned in to kiss you and your scent filling his senses—something faint and floral, warm and soft, almost lulling him into a state of hazy tranquility. Your fingers traced up his arm slowly, lingering as though you were savoring the feeling, and he shivered under the gentleness of your calming touch.

Toji’s eyes fell to your lips as you pulled away, watching the way you tilted your head, the faintest smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. It was subtle, unhurried, as though you were in no rush, letting the tension simmer between them. He felt his own breathing deepen, a mix of anticipation and need pulling him toward you.

“Pretty mama…” His voice came out rougher than he intended, the pet name slipping past his lips almost on its own. You responded with a soft, amused hum, fingers slipping up to rest against his chest, your touch warm even through the fabric of his shirt.

The distance between you vanished, face inches from his, eyes half-lidded as you studied him. “Toji,” a faintly whispered, his name rolling off your tongue in a soft, intimate murmur that seemed to slip past all his defenses. Your breath was warm against his skin as your lips brushed his ear as you ran your hands slowly down his chest, fingers pressing slightly as though anchoring yourself to him.

Then, in one smooth, deliberate movement, your lips met his.

The kiss was slow, like revisiting territory to get reacquainted. But he couldn’t hold himself back. His hands found your waist, drawing you closer, feeling the gentle curve of your body pressing against him. Your hands trailed up his shoulders, fingers slipping through his hair, tugging slightly, igniting a low heat that unfurled deep in his core. He responded with a quiet, involuntary groan, his fingers tightening on your waist as the kiss deepened.

His hands moved, gliding over your back, tracing your spine as he felt the subtle shift of your body beneath his touch, soft sighs fanning over his skin.

Your breaths mingled, and your lips parted beneath his, letting out a giggle as he nipped at your bottom lip. The world around you faded—the restaurant, the distant city outside. All that remained was your touch, your warmth, you whispering his name against his skin.

“How much longer until you’re off? I figured we could grab dinner and spend the evening inside.” Your fingers traced his jaw, drifting down his neck and lower, sending sparks through him with each soft, lingering stroke. “Ayame-san will understand a man missing his woman, I’m sure.”

His hands moved instinctively, pulling you tighter against him, feeling the way you fit against him. “Just a few more minutes, urso. Then I’m all yours again.”

_____

The plane jolted, pulling him abruptly from sleep. Toji blinked, the remnants of the dream fading as he sat up, disoriented, his pulse still racing, his skin tingling with the phantom sensation of your touch.

“What the hell..” He clenched his fists, dragging a hand over his face as he tried to shake the lingering warmth from his mind. Some lovesick fool chasing fantasies. But that dream—the softness of it, the unexpected comfort he’d felt—had struck something deep, something he was sure he couldn't ignore. And that pissed him off.

As he lights in the cabin brightened, signaling their descent, Toji let out a slow breath. He’d shake this off, he told himself. He’d go back to his life, to his usual routines, and forget all about the strange warmth you’d had stirred in him, even if it was only in a dream.

But as he stared out the window, Tokyo coming into view again beneath the early morning light, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed.

It was past midnight, and the rain had stopped leaving behind the dewy smell and light breezes as the muted glow led stragglers to there next destination. Inside, the space was warm, a small refuge from the cold outside, and the soft clinking of dishes and low chatter filled the air. The late shift had drawn in its usual crowd: bleary-eyed patrons drifting in from bars, hungry and noisy, laughter and murmured voices bouncing off the walls.

You moved between tables with a relaxed familiarity, apron showing signs of the days work, hair casually tucked under a colorful scarf you had tied on your head. You greeted the stragglers with small nods and the quirk of your lips, the softness in your voice was bright as you took orders and traded jokes with ease.

“Still got room for ‘nother round, or should I bring a broom to sweep you out?” you teased one of the regulars, who responded with a hearty laugh.

“Oh, don’t start, —if I leave, who’s gonna keep you entertained?” the older gentleman replied, grinning as you swatted his shoulder with the order pad. Rolling your eyes but smiling, you leaned on the counter continuing the banter, tone light and unhurried.

Across the room, Toji slipped into the diner as quietly as possible, practically scurrying to his usual booth tucked in the far corner, watching as you moved around the space. The scene stirred something in him he hadn’t felt in years, lingering somewhere between fascination and discomfort. The easy laughter, the way you brushed off the boisterous remarks from the rowdy customers, all of it felt painfully familiar, pulling him back to the dream he’d had on the plane.

It was almost torturous, the memory slipping in and out of his mind: your soft touch, how your breath against his skin made him feel that carnal desperation he missed, the warmth he’d felt enveloping him. He could almost feel your fingers tracing his arm, hear the soft whisper of his name. The vividness of it left him unsettled, as if he were seeing you now not as you were, but as you had been in that dream—closer, vulnerable, undeniably warm.

Leaning over the counter to pour coffee, and he caught the way you tilted your head back just slightly, the relaxed smile lingering on your lips. It was a simple, innocent gesture, but to him, it felt charged, stirring up desires he’d long since trained himself to ignore.

Before he could regain his composure, your gaze drifted over and your eyes lit up as they landed on him.

  “Oh! And here I thought my charms scared you off,” you called out, voice playful as you finished with the last customer and made your way over. Your hands resting on your hips as you looked at him with something close to amusement. “Where’ve you been, stranger? Thought you’d gotten tired of my Ayame-san’s cooking.”

  Toji gave a small shrug, his face impassive, though he couldn’t quite keep his eyes from lingering on you just a second too long. “Got busy,” he said, his voice low, keeping the reply as neutral as possible.

“Well, she was convinced something horrible had happened to you.” you’d leaned in conspiratorially, eyes glinting with humor. “She almost sent out a search party, you know.”

Toji’s gaze softened without his realizing it. But as soon as he felt himself beginning to relax, that familiar warmth tugging at his defenses, he remembered the dream again—the way you had looked at him, your fingers tracing his skin. Like you had been his for years and not a beat missed. He could feel it so vividly, the phantom sensation lingering, stirring something painful and dangerous in his chest.

“Glad to see you’re still breathing,” you continued with your playful jabs, the smile in your eyes bright and unguarded as ypu studied him. “You don’t have to come in every day, you know. But a week without your brooding in the corner—it was starting to feel empty.”

  Your tone was light, almost like a challenge, but Toji felt his chest tighten, the simple familiarity of your words scraping against something raw and tender. He’d come here tonight seeking some distance from the dream since you never worked Friday nights from what he remembered. Was suppose to be a way to bury the memory of your warmth and that unbearable softness, but you’d only pulled it all closer to the surface. The calm that you seemed to exude so naturally was seeping into him, softening the tough shell he’d built, leaving him vulnerable in a way that felt too close, too dangerous.

  And he couldn’t afford that—not now, not ever.

You were still watching him, the smile unbroken but something shifted in your expression as you noticed his tense silence. “Are you okay? I’m sorry if I got too fresh with you.” The gentleness in your voice now was hard to miss, genuine concern breaking through the humor. “You seem… distracted.”

  It was too much.

  Before he could stop himself, he slid out of the booth abruptly, giving you a curt nod as he moved to leave, his eyes hardening again, cutting off any trace of vulnerability. “I’m not doing this,” he muttered, his tone colder than he’d intended.

He didn’t wait for you to reply, didn’t even glance back as he strode toward the door, ignoring the looks from a few of the other patrons. Your gaze followed him, a slight frown forming as you watched his retreating figure. Your face softened with worry as you walked towards the exit as though you might go after him—but before you could, one of the regulars piped up, his voice cutting through the air with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Hey, Is everything alright? He looked like he’d seen a ghost.”

You forced a smile, shaking your head slightly as you tucked the order pad back into your apron pocket. “Yeah, he’s fine,” you said, though you voice was softer now, the usual brightness dimmed. “Just one of those nights, I guess. We all tend to have them.”

“Can I ask you a question, Yaga?” you walked to the table of your regular who was still looking in the direction of exit, attempting to assess what transpired.

“What?”

Maybe you were being too nosy, but it had been burning into your mind for awhile now. “Have you ever heard of a Fushiguro family? Like around here?”

Yaga sipped the last of his coffee before turning back to you. He seemed almost surprised at the question. “Fushiguro? It sounds familiar but I can’t say I know anyone with it close to me. Why?”

Trying to gather yourself from the whiplash of him leaving so quickly, you walked to the cash wrap and worked on the register as it dang. You didn’t mean to offend him but everyone is different you suppose. “Hm. Just heard the name in passing a few times lately. Figured I was missing out on local gossip or something.”

“Gossip? How about this.” Yaga pulled his wallet out and went to the front counter, “There’s a teaching position at my school now. Great benefits, full lunch hour and you’d also be filling the seat as an after school instructor.”

Laughing, you took the gentleman's money, counting out his change. “I tell you I’m a former teacher a few times and all of a sudden you’re scouting me.”

“Did I tell you that that you make the best coffee I’ve ever had in my life? So robust and flavorful? The way you brew-”

“Yaga.”

“Hm.”

“Are you single?”

Yaga couldn’t keep up with the train of thought and squinted. “Yes. Why?”

You held his hand like a mother holding her kids as you placed the change in his palm and closed it. “It all makes sense. Get home safely, good sir.”

He could only laugh and shake his head. “The offer will be there if you need more. Have a goodnight, young lady.” Yaga nodded with a smile and made his exit a swift one.

He’d disappeared so… abruptly. And its not like it was any of your business. But a patron whose becoming a usual usually has someone around to at least tell someone they are ill or traveling or admitting that they hate the food you serve. He just up and ghosted for a week.

You prepped for closing, locking the front and wiped down the counters with both the job offer on the table and the Fushiguro man on your mind yet again.

________

The quiet late nights sounds of your apartment acted as your reminder that you should go to bed soon. You’d been scrolling on your laptop for the past 2 hours, starting with ordering new fabrics for your upcoming design project which led you to attempting to stalk your mystery man. It was late—too late to still be awake, but curiosity had been nagging at you since Fushiguro’s sudden departure from the diner. You obviously didn’t know him very well but he had never come in and been that tense, that closed-off, almost as if he’d been looking right through you.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, uncertain at first, before finally typing his name into the search bar: Fushiguro.

You scanned through the search results, brows knitting in frustration. It was strange; the name seemed to go nowhere. There were no recent mentions, no profiles, no photos on social media linked to him at all. Nothing but an endless scroll of blank, empty leads.

Like it was scrubbed from the internet or hidden too well.

After a few more searches yielded nothing but the same dead ends, you tried something different, narrowing the results to the oldest records. Maybe there was something…anything that would give you a clue.

And then, finally, there it was. An announcement buried deep in the archives, dated over a decade ago.

Your eyes skimmed the small print.

Death announcement for Fushiguro family.

A newspaper write up digitized with an image attached of a beautiful young woman in her late 20s with dark hair and a soft smile. The text was a short obituary, stark and formal. It detailed little, only that a woman, Fushiguro, had passed away. Her name was there—a name you didn’t recognize. No other photos accompanied the notice, only a single line at the end mentioning that she left behind a young son.

“She seems too young to be his mother. Maybe a sister or wife?” You copied the name to your browser to see if anything else would come up and the only thing was another death announcement but on some site with a broken link.

“Maybe its for the best.” the room dimmed as you put your laptop to sleep and sat in on the empty side of your bed. Your clock showed it being 3:49 am you sighed. 3 hours and 11 minutes to sleep.

You scooted into a lying down position, the words lingering in your mind, stirring up questions but ultimately laying it to rest. From your new perspective, Fushiguro seemed to be a lonely guy. No searchable background, a possible dead relative who even they were a bit of a mystery. Maybe it was the death anniversary. The thought of being alone with no one to turn to made you feel a little bad for the man. Almost pity.

With heavy eyes, you drifted off to the thought of the brooding man. Sending up a prayer that maybe your loved ones could find Miss Fushiguro in the afterlife and bring her a little comfort.

Toji sat in his usual table but at a far more unusual time. Bright and early before even Shiu had a chance to disturb his peace. He was out clearing his mind and realized that his now favorite diner stayed open late and opened quite early.

He spent most of the night thinking about you. Tossing about how he overreacted. You did nothing on purpose but everything almost felt intentional. How you moved, the way you spoke. It was like a personal torture for him.

Ayame served him his tea and brought out another bowl of miso soup as he finished the last of his rice and fish. “Thank you.” he wiped his mouth and handed over the bowl to the older woman.

“Of course, big bull. Anything else? You’ll be priority since its still early.”Ayame patted his shoulder.

“Just another mackerel and I will be out of your hair. Please.”

Ayame winked and walked back to the kitchen where she audibly yelled the order out as if it were a team of 6 working in an executive kitchen.

Toji closed his eyes and took in the aroma of his tea. The morning sounds of the day coming to life itself. He sipped slowly, appreciating the calm of the establishment until the bell above the door rang.

“Good morning Ayame!” the sound of your velvet voice brought him back.

You walked through the dining area without even batting an eye to look around. Simply waltzed to the kitchen leaving Toji to crane his neck until you were out of his sights.

He could run before you even noticed him but he’d done it twice already. So he sat, sipping his tea and praying to whatever God that you’d maybe want to cuss him out or slap the back of his head just to start the process of him getting over whatever this was.

“Big bull! Ayame told me you came in early!”

Shit.

“Morning. Yeah. Just wanted some breakfast.” Toji turned his torso to face you as you came up.

You smelled like cinnamon and vanilla as you walked past to the seat across from him. “Didn’t think you’d be here this early. You closed last night, didn’t you.” He said matter of factly.

Nodding, you checked the temperature of the tea pot on the table. “Did indeed. But switched shifts. I have plans this evening. Which speaking of last night. I want to apologize.”

In Toji’s mind, you had nothing to apologize for. If anything, he thought he should be apologizing for thinking about you sitting his lap while his lips found there way around your body. “You’re fine. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was in a shit mood.” sitting his cup down, he cleared his throat.

“We all have those days. Hopefully I didn’t make it any worse?”

“Nah. I could do that on my own.”

You giggled and his heart fluttered. “Fair enough.”

You sat in silence for a moment and refilled his tea cup. “Whatcha doing tonight?”

“Why?” It came out rougher than he wanted.

“There’s this fun show club down in the Roppongi district! Known to be a great mood booster. You should go! Great drinks and food.”

Toji took his soup and slurped a bit up before answering flatly. “I’ll think about it. I don’t do big clubs usually.”

The bell rang at the door and you pushed yourself from the table with a shrug. Think less club and more burlesque lounge. Just think on it.” You pulled the pen from behind your ear with a smile. “The Tantra Show Club. Just in case you decide to go.”

With that, he watched as you sashayed to the incoming guest who was very clearly coming directly from the bars.

A chance to see you outside the diner. It could be worse.

———————-

You stood in front of the mirror, gently unraveling your twist out to loosen the curls, reflection focused and calm. Your third and maybe final performance of the day before you went to hostess duties.

The low hum of Utahime’s shamisen performance drifted through the building to the bright lit dressing room, mingling with the faint scent of perfume and smoke that clung to the air. Warm lights framed the mirrors, casting soft, golden hues on the women getting ready for the night’s performances. The small space buzzed with chatter and laughter, half-empty glasses of wine and lipstick-stained coffee mugs crowding the counter tops.

Leaning forward to inspect your makeup, you carefully blended out a smudge of eyeliner with the practiced ease of someone who’d done it a thousand times. Your satin robe, dark blue with hints of lace at the cuffs, lazily hung off your shoulder as you moved from the vanity to the couch that sat against the opposite wall.

“Ooo, going dark tonight, huh?” came a teasing voice from across the room.

You turned to see one of your fellow performers, Kirara, walking in with a glass of water, already dressed in a costume of sheer black lace and sequins. Kirara smirked, arching an eyebrow as she gave you a quick once-over.

“Always the understated one,” she added with a wink, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm.

You rolled her eyes, grinning. “Maybe I like a little mystery,” you replied, prepping your lips with a light moisturizer. “Not all of us are as bold as you, Kirara.”

“Oh, please,” Kirara replied, laughing. “You keep ‘em hooked in a way that half the girls here would kill for. We’re just up here trying to keep up.”

You chuckled, lips lifting in a soft smile as you ran your sheer stockings up your legs, fastening them as you adjusted the garters with a delicate touch. The satin finish of the hosiery shimmered under the lights, accentuating the warm tones.

A familiar voice cut through the den. “You two could at least try to keep it down,” came the dry tone of Shoko as she entered the dressing room, a half-finished cigarette balanced between her fingers. She wore a loose blouse and black slacks, her hair tied back in a lazy ponytail, and her signature look of mild disinterest hung on her face like an accessory. “Some of us are trying to maintain a shred of sanity in here.”

“Shoko, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you only come back here to tell us to shut up,” you teased, your eyes meeting Shoko’s in the mirror. “You’re one to talk, showing up half-dressed as always.”

Shoko gave her a look that was equal parts amusement and exasperation. “Hey, I’m not the one strutting on stage tonight,” she replied, taking a long drag on her cigarette before tapping off the ash. “But if I was, I’d have you dress me. Girl knows how to keep it classy.” Shoko nodded her chin towards you with a wink.

Kirara snorted. “Classy? Sure, if by ‘classy’ you mean ‘secretly deadly.’ You should’ve seen the way she handled that one guy who thought he could grab her leg last week.”

You smirked as you sipped your water. “He was lucky I didn’t do worse,” you murmured, the gleam of humor in your eyes meeting Shoko’s approving nod in the mirror.

“Isn’t that why we all love you?” Shoko replied, raising her cigarette as if in a toast. “The classy killer.”

You shrugged, finally tying the belt of your robe a bit tighter as you got up to sift through a row of costume pieces until your found your chosen ensemble for tonight's act—a striking red jeweled wire Samba bikini set. Gold rhinestones trimmed the padding as the halter strap dripped with a fire red stone fringe that matched the ruffled, knee length skirt you’d already slipped on. You rolled your robe down just enough to slips the bra on the front. “Help me out, Sho?”

You held the jeweled bra cups to your chest as Shoko fastened. “This one is new. Must be.”

“Nah, Just never wear it. But I heard the owner was sitting in the audience with special guest tonight and maybe wearing his favorite color will entice him to keep my at for another 6 months.”

Shoko laughed as she helped you adjust the nude colored straps on your shoulders.”He basically said yes to that when he agreed to not cut into your tips and pay your conga players out of pocket. You’re fine.”

Shaking your head with a chuckle, you let your robe fall and looked at your costume. Flashy but not too intense. Definitely attention grabbing. “Classy Killer. Yes.”

Around you, the other dancers moved through their own pre and post-show routines, some gossiping, others touching up makeup or adjusting costumes. It was a world of its own, separated from the outside by heavy velvet curtains and the glitz of stage lights.

Shoko leaned against the counter, one eyebrow arched as she watched you “How do you go from pouring tea and serving ramen to… well, this?” she asked with a smirk. “Quite the double life you lead.”

“Maybe I’m just multi-talented,” you replied, smiling as you adjusted a long, gold chain that traced from your bosom to your navel, catching the light as you moved. “Besides, we can’t all be life saving doctors mighty doctors by day and ghosts bartenders in the night.”

Shoko let out a soft laugh, clearly amused. “Fair. And here I thought I was the mysterious one. But you… you’ve got everyone in this place fooled. Sweet and silent one minute, then this,” she gestured to the dramatic transformation from your usual overalls and boots. “I’d call it impressive.”

Kirara added a final comment, fluffing her curls as she looked over at you. “Don’t let her smooth talk you. Shoko just wants more of those little cookie things you bring in.”

You grinned, fastening a pair of delicate bracelets around your wrists before taking one last look in the mirror, studying your reflection: a quiet, composed zaftig figure with red lips and smokey eyes.

“Well, here’s hoping I give them a good show,” you uttered.

“Break a leg,” Shoko thoughtfully spke, giving a small, approving nod as she finished her cigarette and stubbed it out. “Or better yet, break a few hearts. I’ll be watching.”

With a final wink, you turned and made her way toward the stairs leading up to the stage, the sounds of the dressing room fading behind you as she stepped into the world you’d created for herself—a world of elegance, allure and mystery. Quiet strength captivating all who were lucky enough to watch.

Your conga player hit the drum once, then twice. You threw your leg from behind the curtain and the crowd seemingly enjoyed the tease as the room roared.

The drums started slow. A dragging, pulsing beat, deep and resonant, filling the dim club. You waited in the wings, letting the sound wash over you as your heartbeat went in rhythm with the bass drum. The warm stage lights softened as the emcee’s voice announced your stage name with a smooth, theatrical lilt.

A vision in red and gold, every move of your Carimbo contained controlled movements that remained languid as the uptempo-ed clashing of the triangle and maracas ushered you to the center. You rolled your hips, the growing speed letting your feet move fluidly on your as if you were almost gliding across the floor. Hurried but beautiful. Your costume caught the light with each subtle shift of your hips, the gold embroidery gleaming, echoing the cool metallic shine of the jewelry around your wrists and neck.

As the drums hit a crescendo, moving you to bring your hands above your head and wine your hips, you turned on your soles to bring your skirt up and moving as you turned in the powerful circular motion. Zhuzhing your hair, running your fingers through it, bringing the coiled strands to life as it moved as its own part of your performance.

Then, with a sudden shift in tempo, the music transformed, a lively Brazilian rhythm swept through the room. You moved with it, your body capturing the passion of the Calypso, hips swaying in smooth, hypnotic rolls as your hands traced the curves of your waist. The movements were sharp yet fluid, bold yet precise, a dance of contrasts that matched the beat perfectly. You spun gracefully, letting your hair fan out in soft waves around your, and as your feet swept across the stage, entire being seemed to pulse with the rhythm, as if the music was woven into your soul.

This was you. The days of watching the lambada being performed by your mother and her friends. The late nights of watching your cousins get prepped for Rio Carnival back in Brazil and finally having a chance to enjoy it yourself at Samba Carnival in Asakusa.

You were living.

The audience’s eyes stayed locked on you, drawn in by the intensity. You moved with an unabashed confidence, a self-assuredness that was almost hypnotic, as though you’d brought an entire world with you onto the stage. There was no shyness here, no subtlety; this was you as you as you were, powerful and alive, your movements a celebration of freedom and vitality. You swayed your arms above your head, stepping into a Samba de Roda sequence, your spins becoming tighter, more grounded, each step strong and deliberate.

You dipped low, then rose slowly, eyes flickering across the audience with a playful glint. The Samba brought a sensuality to the movements, but it was the carried grace and precision that gave your dance depth—a reflection of the balance you maintained in your own life, between the quiet strength of the diner and the fierce expression on the stage.

Every gesture, every flick of the wrist, carried a hint of allure, yet her expression remained serene, focused, as if you alone controlled the intensity in the room. Feet moving in quick, intricate patterns, body flowing in waves that built and fell with the music, hips swiveling in an beguiling rhythm as you met the audience’s eyes with the barest hint of a smile. Sensuality that seemed effortless, unrestrained by convention or expectation, dancing for yourself while the audience only got the residuals.

With one final turn, you slowed, movements transitioning into something softer, more tender. You stood still for a heartbeat, holding the room’s collective gaze before lowering herself into a slow, elegant bow, her face framed by a soft smile.

The applause and whistling thundered through the club, filling the room as you rose, giving one last nod before slipping offstage, breath steady but your heart racing with that familiar, electric thrill. You disappeared into the shadows, leaving the audience enchanted, yet somehow still craving more.

__

Toji finally pushed his way into the front of the club near the stage, his eyes adjusting to the low light as the crowd’s cheers and applause greeted him. He’d been pursuing a lead through Tokyo’s underbelly, coming to the address on the back of the card he pocketed in Istanbul and realizing it was the place you invited him. A crowded place far from the quiet corners he usually preferred but now there was a new issue. You.

He scanned the room, making sure he wasn’t having some sort of episode with pulling his gaze toward the stage where you just danced. He’d know that figure anywhere. He knew it was you.

Seeing you here but on stage. in your element, doing something so bold, so unyielding. It had stirred that uncomfortable recognition that he couldn’t shake and didn’t like.

What the hell are you doing here dancing? Almost angry with himself for even caring but even angrier for thinking he had the right to be upset at you. But that didn’t stop him from storming towards the back door, waiting until you finished for the night until he could tell you about yourself.

_____ “So a dancer.”

“Performance artist. But, yes.”

“And you didn’t think to mention that while inviting me? I thought you were there for fun or some shit.”

Toji walked closest to the street as you tried to keep up with his large strides. “That was a pretty vague invite. You aren’t uncomfortable are you?”

Uncomfortable? No. Fighting hard against calling you a beautiful goddess? Yes. “Far from it. It was interesting. Definitely no apron and chili oil stained shirt, thats for damn sure.”

There was a soft laugh that left you as Toji let his lips curl into a small smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Thank you.” You stopped in front of the diner, peeping in to see Ayame and the waitress, Nobara, taking orders from guest. “Thank you for walking me here. Want a tea?”

“No problem. And I’m alright. Need to get home and rest. Early morning.”

You gave his arm a soft pat of appreciation. “Have a goodnight, Fushiguro.”

He stood for a moment, watching you enter and get right back into your mode. Flashing a warm smile to a patron who waved you down. Toji sighed as he grabbed his phone from his pocket, dialing Shiu.

Only took one ring before the all familiar voice came through. “What do you have?”

“Kenjaku is back and using his brothers show club as a front.”

“Think you can get in good with someone there? I’ll pull some strings to do a full backup sweep on your name if needed.”

The heat in his heart pooled as Toji took a step back and continued to watch you. “Just.. change my name sake back to Zenin while I’m on this. I want it to be an easy clean up.”

“I’ll have it done by the afternoon. Find a connection in.” The line went quiet and Toji slipped his phone back.

It’ll be easier to distance himself if he uses you. You’ll see him as the scum he can really be and this silly little imagination of his that has decided to go into overdrive will then cease to exist.

Use you until you hate him.

Done.

[tojbnuy]

“baby stop im trying to read”

“what do you mean ma im just getting warm”

toji was in fact not just getting warm. his big calloused palms were currently underneath your (his) shirt fondling your tits. it wasn’t uncommon for toji to have his hands on your breasts as you read before bed. He used them like stress relievers. warm and soft and comforting to the touch. you had your kindle in one hand and the other placed on his head gently rubbing at his scalp as he nosed his way into the crevice of your neck.

“fuck baby you smell so good. you always smell so clean and vanillery.”

that made you smile.

“yeah i know i smell great.”

he laughed at that because yes you did always smell great. god he was so comfortable right now. nothing on the planet could top this for him. with your boobs in his palms toji could overcome anything. his touch became a bit heated and you knew this would soon be escalating. but you weren’t going to be the one giving in, if he wanted you he was going to have to ask. carefully his fingers began to pinch at your nipples and he knew he had you right where he wanted you when you began to mewl at his touch.

“what are you reading about that’s got you like this baby? are you cheating on me?”

“how’s it cheating if i’m reading you buffoon? and you know exactly why.”

he couldn’t help but smile at the easy banter that was so common between the two of you.

“want me to do to you whatever you’re reading about?”

and just as toji began to hike up your shirt with the intention of putting his mouth to work you both heard a slight little patter of feet on the hard wood floor. you couldn’t see anything due to the darkness in the room but you were pretty sure someone was here. toji lifted his head up with his hands still holding your chest under your shirt and craned his neck over the edge of the bed when he felt a little finger pat his shoulder.

“daddy i did sick”

“oh megs for fucks sake.”

authors note: i didn’t expect to receive so much love on this lil drabble! thank you so much lovely people

[obsesssedblerd]

little megumi is so smart for his age. of course he's going to be slick and try to get you and toji back together after you've broken up. he'll do little things, like "accidentally" get off at the wrong bus stop after school and go to the cafe you're at every single afternoon so you can walk him home, where you'll find toji outside working on a car since he had the day off. or "forget" his favorite dog plushie at your house, so toji has to go and get it. of course he'll stay for a little bit to catch up. or his favorite, looking up at you with puppy eyes and sweetly asking for just one more movie, which eventually leads you sleeping over for the night and spending the morning with the fushiguro family. megumi will smile to himself as he watches you and toji make his and tsumiki's favorite breakfast, quietly laughing together over old memories and stupid jokes. you'll get back together and move back in any day now.

[wolfiihoney]

Toji is the type of husband who… 𝜗𐑞

︶︶⊹ ୨ ♡♡♡Toji is my bby♡♡♡ ୧ ⊹︶︶

Fun fact: Toji and Nanami are my

favorite guys from jjk. Love ‘em sm.

Part 3 of my “the type of husband who” series <333. Unedited

Toji is the type of husband who Loves chasing you! He’ll wait for you to finally run, then he’s after you like a cheetah looking for its prey. He finds the game of “cat and mouse” so fun because he knows you can’t outrun him (imagine this big man chasing you? Seriously!)

Toji is the type of husband who is very supportive of anything you want to do, whether it be a job change, standing up for yourself, etc. He’s ready to support whatever decision you make (unless it’s a little unhinged; he will let you know without hesitation 😅)

Toji is the type of husband who is very loving, like, VERY sweet. He’s the definition of a “gentle giant,” and he’s not ashamed of it.

Toji is the type of husband who isn’t the best at communicating, but with you, he’s definitely going to try and make it one of his top priorities in the relationship.

Toji is the type of husband who likes being babied by you, and don’t listen to him if he says otherwise because he’s obviously lying.

Toji is the type of husband who Watches you. Whenever he’s around, his eyes are scanning your face, watching your lips, and being mesmerized by every little blemish and freckle on your lovely face.

Toji is the type of husband who does NOT like arguing, so don’t expect it when getting into a relationship with him because it ain’t happening.

Toji is the type of husband who Loves carrying you around. Trying to walk up the stairs? He’s quick to pick you up bridal style. Walking down the steps too slowly? He’s throwing you over his shoulder (he can’t stand slow walkers, but it’s okay because he loves you).

Toji is the type of husband who is very thoughtful. Despite the man’s grumpy demeanor, he always goes out of his way to do the most loving and thoughtful things for you (🥹)

Toji is the type of husband who loves your cooking. It doesn’t matter if you can cook well or not; he loves to eat, and he loves it even more when the meal is from you.

Toji is the type of husband who, like Nanami, does not like texting but doesn’t like calling either; he prefers to talk to you face to face.

Toji is the type of husband who, despite popular belief, always finds a way to make money and takes joy in caring for you. If that means spoiling you with whatever you please, he will very much comply.

Toji is the type of husband who hates sleeping unless he feels he can’t function; that’s until he met you and now he can’t wait for the day to end so he can lay beside you when the day is done.

Toji is the type of husband who loves family and family time. He’s so proud of himself and the family you’ve both created together.

Toji is the type of husband who is VERY protective of you. If someone makes you even slightly uneasy, he’s quick to say something and is ready to stand up for what is his.

Toji is the type of husband who loves watching you enjoy yourself, he invests in any interests you may have because he loves seeing you happy and wishes to make you happy whenever he possibly can.

Toji is the type of husband who is very respectful of your boundaries. Especially when it comes to more intimate moments. His sex drive is insane but he’ll never act on anything until you let him know you’re ready.

Toji is the type of husband who was addicted to caffeine until you taught him about the delight of caffeine-free tea. Now he’ll randomly come home with three new boxes of different flavored teas that he wants to try with you.

Toji is the type of husband who only likes you and Megumi. He could care less if anyone doesn’t want anything to do with him as long as you and Megumi want to.

Reblogs are definitely appreciated <33

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

Farmer!Toji, Who never could imagine he'd be a farmer much less like it.

Farmer!Toji who certainly didn't expect a pretty plump cow hybrid who would follow him around after he rescued you from freezing in a blizzard.

Farmer!Toji, who couldn't find in himself to be annoyed, how could he when a pretty thing was staying by his side? Black and white whip-like tail, swaying away like a dog hybrid and ears twitching in interest as he fed the chickens groomed the horses, and milked the cows.

Farmer!Toji who finally carved into his desires after years of wanting you.

Farmer!Toji grunted as he drove his throbbing, girth length into your fat cunny, his umber brick hat tipping because of his wildy moments. His fern green flannel was unbuttoned and showed his glistened abs. His black jeans were pushed down just slightly and zipper down.

Farmer!Toji cursed as your pussy clamped down onto his cock, his hold on your tiny horns tightening as he pulled your head back. A shaky and needy moo was punched out of your throat as you desperately gripped the worn-down, chipped fence. And your moans ran free.

Farmer!Toji growled at the sight, his eyes narrowed, "Fuckin'-shit!" He groaned, slamming his thick dick more rapidly into you, causing you to squeal. "I think it's about time for ya to have some calves." His scar rose in a nasty grin, his words add more fire into your insides. "Betcha like the sound of that?" He laughed wickedly but cut off by his groan as you pushed back against him.

Famer!Toji could feel himself getting closer, "'m gonna knock ya up, getcha all nice and round. Give ya some babies" He moaned and sped up using his heavenly restriction. With one more pull of your horns, your back slammed against his chest and one of his hands wrapped around your throat. One, two, three, four thrusts and Toji's creamy, pearly cum flooded your cunt, and with a few harsh rubs to you're sensitive button of nerves; you were spraying his jeans and cock with your juices.

Famer!Toji who turned your head and kissed you passionately.

He couldn't wait to be a father again, for the first time.

[tojirings]

to yield

pairing: toji x reader

wordcount: 5k

glimpse: toji's the world-class fighter who trains in your best friend's gym, and you're the all-rounder employee who has a crush on him.

alternatively, mma!toji wants you to stop pining for him, and you finally listen.

[ angst + fluff, So Much Yearning, unrequited love (but only initial!! 😑😑), toji's almost always a little mean whenever he turns u down, nosy as FAWKKK bff satoru, the L word, mentions of mma-related injuries, jealousy, eventual redemption ]

To yearn for Toji is light work. 

Pining after him is as easy as making up workout trivia just to get a reaction from him that isn’t a neutral quirk of his lips or a dismissive tilt of his head. You’re pretty sure you’re going overboard with said lies (the proof being you having to approach Toji without Satoru in earshot just so the latter wouldn’t burst out laughing), but Toji doesn’t seem to think so.

He’s either very clueless and actually believes you, or he’s just tolerant of your “fact” of the day despite being annoyed to death with you.

“Now where the hell did you hear that?” he narrows his eyes at you, the ghost of an amused smirk lingering in his lips the longer you look at him in anticipation for his reaction.

“Just… somewhere! I heard it’s verified information,” you smile, nodding your head to delay the incoming wave of embarrassment that you have for yourself.

“Oh, okay,” Toji parts his lips, nodding tersely. “A reputable news site really said that my grip strength is stronger than a shark’s?”

“Mhmm. You’re the strongest, I bet,” you squeak, the tremble of your hands behind your back coming to a halt when Toji has to excuse himself because Satoru hollered at him from the other side of the gym.

You’re not ready at all to confess to Toji.

Every week, from Monday to Saturday, Toji comes into your best friend’s gym with a scowl on his face as if Satoru personally provoked him one way or another (read: he did), within the window of 9 to 10 AM. Only his left hand would be occupied by his gym bag, which he leaves to you for safekeeping at the front desk instead of the locker room, because Toji would rather punch himself in the gut than to deal with overeager fanboys asking him about his fights.

Additionally, every week from Monday to Saturday, you come to the gym at 7 AM sharp, partially to clock in — but mostly to walk to the expensive coffee shop down the block to buy Toji his drink from your own pocket. Between 9 to 10 AM, Toji saunters into the gym and gives you his bag, to which you take with open arms.

Also, every week, from Monday to Saturday, you make sure that you're Toji’s first interaction of the day.

The routine you have with him (and not the other way around because he’s definitely not as involved with you than you are with him) starts with you giving him a wildcard drink that the barista recommended, then Toji either scrunching his nose in disgust or him humming in something a little bit more pleasant than disgust, then him later thanking you before giving you his standard response.

“You don’t have to do this, Y/N,” he’d say, his brows soft yet scrunched in the middle. (In other words: I don’t like you back so you don’t have to do this for me at all.)

“But I want to,” you’d reply, your smile small yet unperturbed. (In other words: I like you and I want to do this for you regardless, but a large part of me hopes that you’ll like me back.)

It’s no secret that you have a crush on Toji– not at all. Practically everyone in the gym knows how head-over-heels you are for him, and maybe even more than the fighter in question.

Satoru knows it, and he groans to no end whenever you pine for Toji like a little puppy. With each interaction you have with Toji that’s more desperate and maybe even a little more pathetic from your end than usual, Satoru wastes no time before offering to set you up with one of his friends, to which you always deny.

Shiu knows it too, and he tries to bring you up during sparring sessions with Toji that come after seeing your more helpless flirting attempts with the latter. Shiu’s actively trying to help you, Toji, and himself in the process because he can’t tell just how much secondhand embarrassment he can take before exploding.

The occasional opponents for practice matches know it. The night janitor knows it. God, even the delivery guy who’s only seen you ask Toji if he wanted water once knows it too.

Toji doesn’t like you, and while you know that fact wholeheartedly, you’ve come to realize that taking care of him in your own way is what completes your day even without getting anything in return. You know you’re bound to be sick of the one-sided yearning anyway, but while you’re not sick of fawning over Toji, you want to make the most of it.

You want to make the most of it until defeat sinks in.

Toji does not care for you — or atleast that’s what he tells everyone.

“I don’t have a crush on her. Never did,” Toji would say to Shiu every time they sparred, his words automatically flowing as soon as he sees the slightest hint of a smirk on his handler’s face. Shiu would always wave him away as usual (and that earns him an ungloved and unrestricted punch on the shoulder out of the ring), and it only makes Toji pout because even his friend doesn’t believe him.

“I don’t like girls who are so obvious,” he would mutter under his breath whenever Satoru nudges him to say thank you when you hold out a clean towel for him even if he didn’t ask. Toji appreciates the cold, fragrant, and personally-delivered-by-you towel anyway, but not enough to smack Satoru on the face with it.

“I don’t know why you’d think that,” Toji, without fail, would reply to anyone in the gym who mistakes him as your boyfriend. He’s gotten shameless with it to the point that he doesn’t mind if you hear it, but also without fail, he feels a little guilty every time.

Toji shouldn’t exactly feel guilty for not liking you back because he doesn’t owe it to you in the first place — or atleast that’s how he reasons with himself.

.

.

.

“I’m gonna stop liking him in a week, Toru. I swear. Cold turkey and everything.” 

“Yup. Sure you will, sport,” Satoru snorts at your drunken admission, kicking your knee lightly to stop you from your sulking.

He feels a little responsible for your feelings towards Toji because if only he didn’t introduce you to him, none of this would’ve happened in the first place. 

You would’ve still been his sole accountant for his gym who only dropped in every once in awhile to help manage the place whenever it was short-staffed and not this; not the multi-tasking beast that you are who’s not only his accountant, but this cheery and energized all-rounder gym employee you he didn’t ask you to be.

“No, no. I’m serious this time,” you mutter, your cheek squished to the table so you can limit yourself from saying anything else that could explain to Satoru why you were hellbent in accepting his offer to drink tonight. “I feel like a fool running after Toji.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t exactly use the word-…”

“I know you think it.”

“Fine. I do think it, but you know I mean well!” Satoru surrenders, ruffling your hair as he takes note of keeping the windows down and driving as slowly as he legally could when he takes you home tonight. “You just aren’t Toji’s type, but that’s not a bad thing, y’know? 

There’s so much more on your mind, but you’re not in the mood to think of Toji any longer because the moment you do, you’ll succumb to him again.

You want to surrender, completely and irrevocably this time, but not without the final push so you could say that you did everything and you’ll have no regrets if Toji turns you down again — or rather, when Toji turns you down again.

“If it doesn’t work out,” you hiccup, burying your face to the bulk of Satoru’s sweater so you could smell the scent of clean laundry on him instead of imagining that you’re smelling Toji’s perfume out of nowhere in the packed club. “Go set me up with your friend.”

( ♡ ) 

Toji’s a little perplexed to see you at the front desk this morning.

After all, it was only last night when he saw you at the club, looking completely spent with your head buried in Satoru’s shoulder. Toji had only nodded to him when their eyes locked, mouthing that he’s with his friends so he can’t hang back with him, and Satoru let him go without any annoying remarks because he just gestures to your sleeping figure wordlessly.

Weirdly enough, Toji didn’t get to enjoy himself last night because his eyes kept wandering to your booth.

What’s even weirder now is that not only did you come to work looking fully recovered, but Toji also hangs back for a fraction of a minute right after giving you his duffel bag.

“Hey,” he greets, smiling tightly as he tries to figure out internally on why his feet wouldn’t move at all.

“Hi, Toji,” you reply back, staying still on your seat as you try to make conversation with him, but oddly enough, no ridiculous trivia could come out of your lips.

All it takes is Satoru whistling from the breakroom for you to snap into your senses, and for Toji to realize what was missing.

You have no drink for him today.

He’s not that bothered because that means he’s not subjected to whatever overly sweet or bitter monstrosity you give him, and that could only mean that he’ll be able to skip giving you his signature rejection.

It’s a good thing for you to start giving up on him, he convinces himself.

Toji tolerates you in a way that’s unbeknownst even to you, because in the first place, you’ve convinced yourself that the crush you have on the MMA fighter isn’t that serious.

Swiping your employee card to get him a free energy drink isn’t that serious in your own perspective, but when you overheard the conversation awhile ago between Toji and Shiu (with the latter convincing him that free energy drinks equated to a marriage proposal), you started doing it for everyone. You swipe your card over and over even for the fighters you barely know, but oddly enough, Toji’s eyes twitch whenever he sees his favorite grape-flavored drink in everyone’s hands.

Offering the Bluetooth connection code to Toji for him to play whatever he wants to on the speakers may be a little serious, but you convince yourself that it really isn’t when you accidentally eavesdrop on Satoru telling him that you totally have it out for him. What you do for Toji, you start to do for everyone; it’s telling with the way your speakers announce whose phone it’s connected to every thirty minutes, but not so much telling as to why Toji’s going extra hard sparring with his handler.

Toji does not care for you — or atleast that’s what you’ve convinced yourself.

Denying his fondness for you has almost been as easy as you tamping down your adoration for him, so much so that when a new guy at the gym randomly comes up to Toji and mentions your name, he responds automatically.

“We’re not together. Go ask…” her out — that’s what Toji’s supposed to say. “I don’t know, actually. I heard she’s taken, I think,” he rectifies himself, exiting the conversation before he could be bombarded with yet another question that revolved around you.

Or another question that would only make him realize that you having eyes for only him doesn’t equate to other people backing off from that mere fact alone.

Toji doesn’t like you, but oddly enough, the fact doesn’t bother you as much lately.

( ♡ ) 

You’re on your last leg of pining for Toji.

The shame of it all is finally getting to you, seeping into your deepest crevices that had thought for the longest time that you had a fighting chance with him. You don’t exactly regret yearning for Toji because after all, it had been in your own accord, no matter the risks you’ve already taken.

Maybe, just maybe, you could only go up from here. 

Maybe, because you and Toji hadn’t been friends to begin with when you pursued him, but on the other hand, it could be your ultimate downfall because perhaps right after he turns you down this time, you won’t be able to come back to anything.

There’s no foundation built between the two of you for you to fall back on, and while that’s surely devastating for you, it would only be a walk in the park for Toji.

You’re risking it all, even if you’re just as sure that nothing will come out of this, because you know you won’t come out unscathed — when Toji finally lets you down this time, harshly like you don’t mean anything to him, you’ll know then that you did everything in your power before you gave up on him.

The omamori in your hands that you’ve planned giving to him is your only salvation, because you get to grip it and remind yourself in real time that Toji’s seething at you.

He’s been stressed since the early morning fighting with his manager who had considered fixing up a match, and despite having resolved it with Choso already even before you came into his eyesight, Toji can’t shake off the anger from his body.

You’re the first person who comes into his space and into his mind, and you’re probably the last for the day (and maybe for an unforeseen amount of time) with the way he snaps at you.

“Y/N, can you just-“ Toji sharply inhales, clenching his jaw so tightly just so he can’t make his voice any louder. “Can you just please fucking stop?”

The omamori that you’re gripping tightly in your hands, the same one that you’ve gotten for blessings and protection for his fight in a month’s time, reminds you that Toji doesn’t want anything to do with you.

“I bet you’re a nice girl and all but I just don’t want you, okay?” he nods breathlessly as if asking you for confirmation. “I don’t like you like that.”

After a year and then some of yearning for Toji, you finally yield.

( ♡ ) 

You don’t come in for work.

Your absence is easily noticed because by this hour, you should’ve been glued to your seat by the front desk, ready to stash Toji’s gym bag under your desk.

He freezes by the entrance, brows knitted in confusion to see that your spot’s empty. He and his bag have been spoiled by you to the point that Toji feels uncharacteristically displaced when he walks past your desk, with his bag and without his drink.

“Huh,” Toji mutters to himself, strolling as casually as he could to the breakroom. He’s already had breakfast and he’ll be willing to have another one if it means lingering around you today, but to his surprise (and his surprise only), you aren’t there. “That’s weird.”

Toji jolts in place when he senses an agitating presence behind him that does little to conceal his proximity behind him, fists immediately clenching when he sees Satoru lean on the wall next to him.

“Jeez. I wonder who could’ve possibly said what to Y/N that made her call in sick today,” he enunciates slowly, enough for the sarcasm to steep in and his words to absorb into Toji’s thick skull.

“What are you-…” Toji interrupts himself when he finally gets what Satoru’s pertaining to, the skip of his chest being telling about the guilt that’s been stewing at the back of his head since last night.

“You weren’t exactly discreet about it, idiot. We were in the breakroom,” Satoru rolls his eyes, standing to his full height when he sees Toji falter. “Even Shiu heard you and he has the most effective noise-cancelling headphones known to man.”

Right on cue, Shiu comes out leisurely out of the room he had been peeking at two seconds ago. It takes only a second for him to register that Toji’s outside for whatever reason (he knows exactly why) before whistling in response, the shit-eating grin on his face apparent for Toji to remember.

“Woof,” he chuckles. “Don’t go biting my head now. I bet you’re a nice guy and all.”

It’s a build-up of things since this morning, and perhaps even from last night if he counts the immediate tinge of regret that stings him when he’s seethed his rejection at you, that truly throws Toji off his game.

Maybe it’s Satoru’s repeated teasing throughout the day and his targeted material of asking whether Toji was hungry or not, right within the timeframe wherein you usually ask him if he wants to join you for a meal.

Maybe it’s Shiu’s incessant mentioning of your name throughout his workout and the convenient reminder that Toji’s working out harder than he usually does, yet there’s no cold towel waiting for him.

But really, whatever it is that just adds up to the already excessive noise in Toji’s head concerning you, he knows now more than ever that absence your absence is noticeable.

His opponent for today’s practice match knows it. The day janitor knows it. Even the delivery guy who’s only been here twice knows it.

Toji simmers in guilt except he doesn’t want to admit it just yet, full well knowing that he would have texted you an apology — if only he had your number.

( ♡ ) 

You come back after three days.

After a year and some months’ worth of excessive reminders from Satoru, you finally take into realization that you don’t have to go to work in-person as often as you do. 

You didn’t know that all it would take for you to slow down and take your much-needed break is Toji by some way (read: rejecting you so harshly that you had been mute on your way home), and you haven’t predicted at all that there’ll be a day wherein you come to work not to pursue him.

Toji immediately notices your presence because even if you were no longer perched by the front desk, it was apparent that you’re already back judging by the way everyone– and literally everyone— in the gym seemed to look at ease somehow.

You’re at the other side of the gym with the light equipment that Toji barely frequents, and it’s the way you stand and smile that makes him pause.

It’s also the way that you smile at Choso that makes Toji announce his presence loudly.

“Let me help you there, buddy,” he claps behind the guy he recognizes as one of his fans (in all fairness, Yuuji isn’t as annoying as all the others who only come here just to get a glimpse of him), startling his already trembling figure.

Toji, without any hesitation yet a lot of frustration, easily grabs the heavy barbell mid-air that Yuuji’s struggling with before dropping it to the ground as roughly as he could.

It’s too light for him. Too easy, even. 

What’s heavier for Toji at the moment is the realization that you’ve given up on him and he has no one to blame but his emotional constipation, and maybe Choso who had pissed him off prior to his tantrum at you.

You did look at Toji and the mini scene he had created, but you immediately avert your eyes as soon as he fixates on yours.

He feels untethered this way, and if the lump on his throat is omniscient of the guilt that he’s feeling yet he’s unable to put into words, Toji wants you to notice him again, tirelessly and shamelessly like you did before.

He’s not in his usual zone, so much so that he barely makes any banter with Shiu who had been talking his ear off in letting Satoru have a go at him.

Toji’s too far out of his concentration, so much so that he agrees to spar with Satoru. 

He’s been pestering him for the longest time to get in the ring with him and Toji had always declined, even if he knows that your friend could take him on to some degree. He’s turned him down again and again for even just a light sparring session, especially when you were around, because he knows that he’s your friend.

He wouldn’t want to hurt Satoru if it hurts you, except now, the difference is that the latter really wants to hurt him and the former is out of his game to the point that he’ll resort to anything just to get your attention.

Toji lands a punch so hard that Satoru audibly croaks, holding his stomach even with the padding on. You’ve always been (read: used to be) the biggest fan of Toji even in practice matches, but now, instead of cheering for him, your eyebrows knit in worry instead–

Except your concern isn’t for him.

“Satoru? You okay?” you immediately come to his side by the ring, eyes inspecting him from head to toe.

Before he could even say that he is and that he’ll get back at Toji with twice the power, Toji pipes in from behind your friend, raising a gloved hand sheepishly.

“I’m not.” 

Toji shamelessly declares his apparent hurt, making everyone nearby audibly gawk at him for his audacity. You only blink at him in the surprise, trying your earnest to see on what part and capacity could Satoru, a non-professional, has possibly injured him.

“H-he punched me by the ear,” he stutters, the lie catching onto his teeth on the way out. The embarrassment of him making up an unbelievable lie is yet to hit, but Toji wouldn’t mind either way.

“What?! I barely even hit you in the face!” Satoru reacts, his face indescribable with the way he swats Toji on the arm in disbelief.

You snort at the scene in amusement, yet your eyes stay fixated on your friend.

“Yeah, yeah. I believe you, Toru.”

( ♡ ) 

True to his word, Satoru sets you up with his friend.

It was amusing, if not mildly infuriating with regards to the universe’s fate for your heart, to learn that Suguru’s the owner of the upscale café you’ve been buying Toji’s drinks from for six out of seven days a week.

It’s actually amusing to the point that you immediately smile whenever Satoru brings up Suguru, even for no particular reason, because if only time and luck had been at your side, you would’ve met him earlier and spared yourself the heartbreak from Toji.

You know to yourself, even in the deepest pits of your stomach that would like to argue otherwise, that you would’ve like Toji regardless even if you met Suguru earlier — what irks you about the whole thing is that fate is twisted.

You’re at standstill with the guy who checks all your boxes and actually likes you back unlike Toji, except this time, you’re content at staying in whatever playful relationship that you and Suguru are in now. 

It’s not a mess per se, but it’s a playful blunder between the two of you wherein you flirt and like each other’s presence, except you’re not in a relationship at all because neither of you are in a rush.

Oddly enough, having each other while not exactly owning the other at same time is enjoyable for the both of you.

For not atleast, you and Suguru are simply fated to be a pair of flirty friends that enjoy each other’s company without having to come home at the end of the night. He has his reservations while you have yours too, but they didn’t mean anything when the other just needs another shoulder present.

Your reservations don’t matter at the moment when there’s an inner turmoil that roots from the base of your chest, simply because Satoru had made the offhand comment that Toji kept asking him about you while you weren’t around.

Your reservations don’t matter at the moment when Suguru comes at the perfect time because he’s not as familiar as the best friend you grew up with, nor is he as fond as the man you’ve spent the better part of a year crushing on and are now wanting to move on from.

“Who’s that?” Toji snaps to no one in particular, the scowl on his face off-putting and intriguing enough for Satoru to notice. He follows Toji’s line of sight, a sly smirk already building up on his face at the prospect of teasing him, even if he knows your real score with Suguru.

“Oh, that’s Suguru. He’s my friend.”

“Didn’t he use to be that defending champion or something?” Toji murmurs, crossing his arms. He vaguely recalls how he once read an article detailing the young player retiring early so he could live a normal life, hearing the name Geto every once in awhile. “Why’s he here?”

“Didn’t you say you never keep tabs on other players?” Satoru snickers, the teasing smirk apparent on his face because of Toji’s sheer bitterness. “Also, it’s my gym. He’s not allowed around here or something?”

“Whatever. Don’t care,” Toji grumbles. “I could take him in a fight. I’d probably destroy him.”

Toji feels unwell, not because he spent a solid ten minutes arguing with a defensive Satoru that keeps insisting his best friend could totally defeat him in a fight, but because throughout that time, not once did you stop smiling at whatever Suguru has to say to you.

Your eyes are practically gleaming and although he loves the sight, there’s this ache that blooms in his chest and spreads all the way to the base of his spine knowing that it’s what you had looked like in front of him for the longest time.

“I bought lunch.”

Toji approaches you as soon as Suguru goes to the bathroom, his smile gentle and hesitant. 

It’s a first for you because you usually treat him. At the start, it was you treating everyone in order not to be transparent with your crush, but there’d been a couple obvious times in which you only exerted efforts for Toji and only him.

Toji doesn’t bother with an excuse of treating everyone or that he had bought too many; he just wants to have lunch with you. “Want some?”

“No, but thank you,” you answer lowly, the shake of your head barely noticeable because you don’t want to look him in the eye.

Toji’s more confused than he is deterred, the bag in his hands suddenly weighing a ton. “But you haven’t left your desk so that means you haven’t eaten yet,” he points out. “Do you not like this type of food? If not, I could just run to the-…”

“There you are!” 

Suguru comes back, and just like that, the crumbs of attention you were giving him had been cleaned up entirely. 

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s gooo, doll. I wanna beat everyone else to the limited specials,” Suguru ignores his obvious beating presence and practically drags you out from your chair (even though you needed little convincing), the hold he has on your wrist making Toji see red briefly.

Toji’s jaw clenches, unconsciously stepping out of the gym not long since you and Suguru rushed out, his sharp eyes following you until you both turn the corner.

It’s the same shop he got your food from.

( ♡ ) 

Toji can’t put a finger to what he’s feeling.

He feels different; the bad and dull kind of different that makes him listless and anxious no matter how much he tries to tire himself out.

He’ll subject himself to an agonizing workout with no breaks in between, but after that, he could only think about the way your bottom lip trembled at his words.

He’ll put himself through one practice match after another without any proper training, and even if Toji wins as he always does, he could only think about how he’s lost all of your affection that he had unconsciously looked forward to the entire time.

Toji finds himself lingering around you and he doesn't know if he could just continue hovering and hovering in this way; in a way that's unlike yours because you were unafraid to stand so close to him, talk to him whenever you please, and trail around him like a lost puppy in the past.

He’s upset and he doesn’t even know why he allows himself to feel that way, when for the longest time, he had convinced himself that he didn’t give you any hope so he had no reason to feel guilty about turning you down; so that he had no problem ignoring you while dealing with his constipation of not apologizing.

Toji’s upset, except he’s too self-aware to the point that it’s only his spite that keeps him awake with regret; he did give you hope. 

He didlinger around you and accept whatever you had to give him despite his lips making out the sentiment that he can never return them.

He did feel guilty at the prospect of turning you down right from the start because if that wasn’t the case, then you would have long given up on him. 

He did feel guilty about rejecting you, especially considering the fact that he wasn’t wholeheartedly sure whenever he refused your love — he still does.

“Toji?” you call out, the sound of your voice immediately startling him with the lights already dim in the breakroom. Toji only frequented the breakroom whenever you were there, and the odd, if not ironic, turn of events makes him smile humorlessly. “Are you drunk? Do you need me to call Satoru?” you ask with genuine concern, tilting your head as you try to assess his figure. “Do you want to go home?”

“Nah,” he shakes his head softly. “It’s jus’ to take the edge off. Probably easier to get a horse drunk than to get metipsy.”

You give a small smile at that, the tremble of your hands barely noticeable with the way Toji’s even more nervous than you at the realization that the two of you are alone with each other.

You’re only here because you forgot your laptop, and Toji’s only here because he doesn’t know what to make of himself because you’ve detached yourself from his routine— from his life, it seems like.

Toji looks down on his full glass, swirling it by his knee. There’s an unspeakable sorrow to his face with something about it resembling you, or atleast the resignation you felt every time Toji turned you down less than gently.

“Why don’t you like me anymore?”

Your eyes widen at the question, the words left in the tip of your tongue drying out the longer that Toji looked at you this way — like he’s stooped down to the level you used to be in, his eyes tired and glassy.

“Why don’t you like me anymore?” he repeats, mistaking the shock on your face for confusion. “If I… i-if I pretend to be drunk and ask you out, will you say yes?” Toji murmurs, using the back of his hand to clumsily get rid of the wetness that had unknowingly formed at the corners of his eyes. “Would that make you go back to liking me again?”

[satorusugurugurl]

Toji as a bodyguard

Til’ the Day that I Die

Summary: You’re a popstar in need of a bodyguard when you find yourself with a stalker. That’s how you meet Fushiguro Toji, you’re insanely hot bodyguard. Who knows how to push your buttons, and get you feeling flustered. Just how far is he willing to go to protect you? And how far would you go to protect him?

Pairing: Bodyguard!Fushiguro Toji x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: mentions of stage right, performance, anxiety, stalking, panic attacks, language mentions of gun, (eventual smut)

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: this request is amazing!! It got my brain worms going! Once again, this will be a multi part series, I’m looking at a total of four parts as I have already planned down the whole story. I’m sorry for the lack of content, it’s been a rough few days and I just decided to take some time for myself! But I do have about four stories almost done so you can expect updates for the rest of the week! Love you all!! (Readers' stage persona is highly inspired by several artists! 😊)

Part Two Part Three Part Four

Performance anxiety is defined as an excessive feeling of fear related to being able to perform well. Symptoms of performance anxiety include pulse racing, rapid breathing, dry mouth, and throat tightness. Dealing with performance anxiety when you're a rising star is brutal, and you begin to regret all your life choices. You aren't sure if you want this to be your life. You were attending nursing school, but your sister posted a video of you singing online. Reading all the sweet comments was fun initially, but it's funny how fast things change.

One second, you were posting a few videos of you singing, and the next thing you knew, you had a record deal, your songs were on the radio, and you were performing at concerts. All in the span of six months. The attention was overwhelming, and, at times, your anxiety even worse. But the more you performed, the more you were able to bury the stage fright down, masking the fear with a persona you made until you were home in your apartment. In the confines of your home, you could cry and tremble; dealing with those attacks was something you’d gotten used to.

But your stalker was a whole new fucked up mess you never dreamed about dealing with.

It had started as nothing more than a couple of love letters that turned into more descriptive letters detailing information about your personal life you had never told anyone. Anytime you saw a letter come in with ‘M’ written on the front and dark gray ink, your stomach twisted. You at first thought you would be okay. You could handle something like this. This was the kind of thing that came along with the territory of being famous.

That was until a bouquet of roses was dropped off at your door in your guarded apartment building. That whole situation sent you into a full-blown panic attack. You left your apartment and went to stay with your friends. That incident caused your manager to contact Kong Security Services and hire you as a bodyguard. One, you were anxiously waiting to meet as you sat in your dressing room before your show.

“It’s going to be fine, I promise.” Nanako, your makeup artist, assured you as she fixed your blush. “Geto said this agency is the best in the business.”

You shot her a skeptical look while her twin sister fixed your hair. “Are you just saying that because your dad’s are my managers, and they told you to say that?” When both twins had ceased their movements in obvious shock at your to-the-point accusation.

“W-What—?”

“No, never!”

“Uh-huh—I don’t believe a word either of you are saying right now.”

Nanako steps back, looks you over, and bites her lip. “They really are the best, whether or not we get to go out for Boba after this. It’s not like sweet milk tea is on the line if we don’t ease your nerves.” Just as your sweet young makeup artist finishes, the door to your dressing, eyes darting towards the door as it swings further open. Suguru and his husband, Satoru, enter, displaying their matching black-and-white wedding rings. They were the best management company in the world, the power couple of Tokyo. Satoru, who was in charge of your social media accounts, types viciously on his phone while Suguru grins up at a man walking in with them.

If you could even call him a man.

A fucking mountain of muscle is a more appropriate way of describing him. He’s tall, has dark hair and navy blue eyes, and he’s fit. The mountain wore a tailored jacket and white button-down shirt with the first two buttons undone. His eyes leave Geto’s for a minute to watch you sinking further in your chair, his pink tongue running over the scar down the corner of the right side of his mouth.

“Hun, this is Fushiguro Toji,” Suguru announced before glancing at his phone. “He’s your bodyguard and will be with you everywhere you go.”

“E-Everywhere?”

“Yes, to rehearsals, your shows, meet-and-greets, he’ll even escort you home.” Your eyes rammed back over to the mountain of a man standing off to the side. When you have time off, or he needs a day away, his work partner Tsukumo Yuki will take over for him.”

You swallowed hard, fingers twitching, a subtle action your new bodyguard noticed immediately as you dug your fingers into your skirt. It was part of Toji‘s job to see behaviors and be observant. He could tell you were on edge from how your fingers twitched to how your pulse raced in your neck. His handler, Shiu, had warned him that you were an anxious mess after finding out about your stalker. But this anxiety didn’t come from just having a stalker. This anxiety was deeply rooted in you. It was probably something you had suffered with for years.

Without being told, Toji stepped forward, kneeling before you, giving you a gentle smile like a father would give a frightened child. He had to put your nerves at ease to let you know you would be okay. “I know you’re scared, but I can assure you that I am very skilled. You won’t even notice I’m around.” You weren’t sure about that. How could you not notice the handsome man who would always be around you?

“Right, thank you.”

“You’re welcome--”

“Ugh! We gotta get going; they expect you on stage in five minutes.”

“I-I s-shou—” you stuttered as the performing anxiety began to root itself into your already anxious demeanor.

“Yep, let’s get going.” Toji stood motioning towards the door of the dressing room. “After you, Miss.”

Being a bodyguard and a security escort for so long had allowed Toji to pick up on specific cues from people, like how their eyes moved around the room or how their body language told him what they were feeling. The way your fingers were twitching, he knew you were nervous and scared, and he wasn’t sure if it was stage fright or something to do with your stalker.

Regardless of whether you wanted to go up there, it didn’t change the fact that thousands of people were already waiting for you to perform. As you both walked down the hall, Tojo noticed you took a deep breath and exhaled through your nose, and as you turned the corner, you put on a huge smile. The way you put in a mask so fast nearly sent Toji stumbling back. He was usually prepared for the unexpected, but seeing this scared, shaking woman shift into a bubbly pop star rocked him back.

Everyone you encountered smiled wide at your perky voice and demeanor. You truly lit up the whole room. “Alright, guys! Thank you for all your hard prep! Now, let’s have a great show tonight!” You were handed a jeweled microphone and placed on a platform to lift you to the main stage, but before you gripped the handles to steady yourself, Toji grabbed your hand. “Oh, Fushiguro?”

“I'll be on the side, watching you. If you need me or notice something's off, you should give me a sign.”

“A sign? Like a signal?”

“Yeah, something easy and inconspicuous.”

You thought for a second, that perky look still on your face, but Toji could see the anxiety behind your eyes. “Well, I wink a lot during my shows and throw a heart sign up.” Toji hummed, pursing his lips together.

“Well, if you don't want to alarm your fans, how about this.” he took your hand, putting your middle and ring finger down. Your thumb, pinky, and pointer finger were left extended.

“Oh, the sign for ‘I love you’!”

“Only use this if you need me on stage. Otherwise, do what you normally do, but know I’ll be right there if you need me.”

There was a flicker of fear in your eyes, which probably would go unnoticed by many different people, but it was one that he could see clearly as day. “Right, thank you, Fushiguro.” Your new bodyguard looked at you as he scoffed, shaking his head.

“Toji, just call me Toji. There is no need for formalities. Have a good show, Miss.”

“R-Right, thank you, Toji.”

Your new bodyguard watched as the platform began to lift, taking you up to the stage where fans were screaming your name. Taking a deep breath before smiling, your bodyguard watched you reach the top before the band blaring music as you began singing into your microphone. The beat of the music rang in his ears; Toji ran for the stairs that led him to the stage, where he could watch you from the side.

There, Toji found your managers standing on the sidelines, watching you. Upon looking at you, he met a woman who looked nothing like the girl he had just spoken to moments before. You danced, sang, smiled, and winked at the crowd. Multicolored lights flashed as fog from the fog machine flooded the stage, and the backup dancers moved in sync with each other. I think this is poor, who was shaking upon meeting him.

“Yeah, crazy to see her shift, isn’t it?” Geto asked before pulling his phone out and snapping a few photos of you as you sang. “She’s like a different person.”

“Like? I hate to be the one to break this to you, Geto, but that woman is a completely different person. Why the fuck is she masking?”

The white-haired man glared at Toji, his sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. “She’s not masking; it's called a stage persona.” The annoyance was clear in the other man’s voice, a tone that crawled its way under his skin.

“Look, buddy, keep your terms to yourself. I don't care about the different terms. All I know is that woman—” he jabbed his thumb in your direction as you twirled around the stage. “is masking; that’s not who she is.”

“You don’t know a lot about the entertainment industry. This is something that a lot of celebrities do. It’s completely normal, and she knows that. That’s how she adapted so fast.”

Toji wasn’t sure if that was the case. He had seen you firsthand, shaking in your dressing room. To see you change drastically for the sake of a show? Toji could see why you would be nervous to go up on stage. There had to be a fear of your mask slipping, revealing your true persona to the world.

But Satoru was right; Toji’s job was to protect and ensure you were safe. It wasn’t his place to judge how you lived or worked your career. In the end, you were just like all the other popstar divas and clients he had had before. Rich people with too much money to throw around and fame led them to believe that they were in danger all the time, which is how he managed to keep a steady income for himself and his kids as long as they were rich snobs like you, Tojo was guaranteed to have a job.

Instead of continuing to argue with your overzealous manager, Toji crossed both arms over his chest and watched you closely. The sooner the show was over, the sooner he could get you back to your apartment, where he could call to check on Megumi. He just wanted to relax, and for all he knew, you and your managers were overreacting to this so-called stalker you had. If anything, this might’ve been some cruel prank; receiving a note to roses wasn’t that big of a deal, and this was way too easy for as much as he was getting paid, so he wasn’t going to bitch about it.

What he did want to bitch about was how fucking long your show went on for. Performed for about two hours straight, only taking breaks to change costumes throughout the performance. It was in those moments when you were changing that your mask slipped. He could see the exhaustion in your eyes and how you wanted to do nothing more than take a break. But as fast as that mask slipped, you had it back on instantly. When one costume was off, and the other slipped on, you were back on stage to sing the next song.

After about two hours and thirty minutes of this bullshit, you gave a final bow and blew kisses out at the crowd of strangers who were cheering your name. While the two hours he got to stand up to the side and watch you perform was easy, he only had to look for your signal if you needed help; getting you out of the arena safely was a whole different story. Everything moved so fast The second you stepped off that stage and towards your bodyguard.

After every show, the goal was the same: get changed as fast as possible, collect your stuff, which Nanako and Mimiko had already packed, and get in your limo before the crowd started heading towards your exit. Toji gently placed his hand on the small of your back, ushering you through the maze of halls that led you back to the dressing room, where, just like you knew, the girls had packed all your stuff.

“You got five minutes to change,” Suguru announced as Satoru snickered behind his husband. “Thanks to Satoru, you’re trending again for your newest song.”

Toji could see the minutey, perky personality shift into your more anxious state. You frowned, literally frowned, at the news. Most people would be jumping over the moon to hear it. Seeing such an ungrateful expression on your face had Toji resist the urge to roll his eyes into his skull.

Spoiled little brats, you rich folks were all the same.

“Did you make sure to tag the—“

“Are you insinuating that I don’t know who to tag or which hashtags to use? Babes, I've got you covered. When have I ever let you down?”

“Never.”

“Right, so let the best PR manager handle this.”

Toji sighed, glancing towards his watch. “Two minutes,” he announced to the room of people bouncing off the walls and collecting items to clean up the green room. How could your managers be talking about more brand deals at a time like this? Brand deals were bullshit, but knowing how popular you were with the teenagers and you probably had some make-up deal or some other shit that would make you all the richer, you had to make sure the right people were tagged so you continued to be sponsored. But there was a time and place for that, and now wasn't the right time!

“I know you're the best Satoru, but I still wanna make sure the word gets out there.” You stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in black leggings and a simple T-shirt. Completely different from the baby doll dresses you were wearing on stage. “It’s imperative—”

“I know. I’ve already posted it. Everyone’s been tagged accordingly, and the hashtags are in place. You’ll get lots of people to see this, trust me.”

You were slipping on your baseball cap and sunglasses when Toji’s large hand gently grabbed you by the shoulder. “We gotta get going,” you sighed before nodding, waving off your team, and falling Toji down the hall to where your car awaited you.

Thanks to your quick change, nobody was waiting for you outside, making your getaway from the arena smooth as butter. You just wished you felt as calm as your exit from the bustling stage had been. You were beginning to regret going back to your apartment. You hadn’t been back there since the roses were delivered to your door. Going back was going to be difficult, leaving your stomach swarming with anxiety. But at least you had a big mountain of a man to protect you if, god forbid, you needed help.

The entire ride back to your apartment complex was thankfully quiet. Toji sat on the other side of you, staring out the window, not making any conversation, which was a blessing. Not only was your throat sore from the amount of singing you had done, but the idea of sitting through a conversation run solely by small talk was almost as bad as your performance anxiety. Sitting in the back of the car, leaning your head against the window without worrying about smiling or acting perfect in front of strangers, was a breath of fresh air.

Being alone with your bodyguard made you feel like you could let your walls come down for the first time in a long time. It was a feeling you might as well get used to. He would be around most of the time, so instead of adorning the perfect, pretty mask you always wore, you could be the introverted true version of yourself. Knowing that you could relax, you shut your eyes, allowing yourself to doze off as the car smoothly headed down the freeway.

If only your dreams were smooth and calm like the car ride. Your dreams were filled with mysterious notes and roses you had once loved. They circled you, drowning you in paper and petals as a roaring crowd rang through your ears. You could fight against the tidal waves, but instead, you let them wash over you, allowing yourself to be crushed by the unbearable weight of being a star at times.

Nursing school wasn’t easy, but at least when you were in school, you didn’t have to worry about a mysterious bouquet showing up on your apartment doorstep or sneaking out to avoid getting seen and swarmed by your fans. Your biggest concern in school was getting good grades and doing everything possible to get your degree. The only things you had to worry about were study dates and pop quizzes, not ominous letters that made you fearful for your safety.

These nightmares were so vivid that you wished your family had heard you singing online. Was it too much to ask for a normal everyday life where you weren't constantly stressed?

You sighed, looking up at the lingering rays of light that slowly began to peek through. More envelopes and roses piled on the cocoon you were stuck in. Perhaps there was no going back. This might very well be the rest of your life. Just as you were shutting your eyes to the casket you were being buried in, a hand reached out from the top of the mountain of dread and anxiety you lived with, reaching for you.

You couldn’t make out who was reaching out to you, but you were sure they just wanted to help you. Without hesitation, you reached for that hand, brushing over their fingertips. Just when they clasped your hand to pull you out of the burial ground, you were jn. You gasped as someone shook you, waking you from the dream.

You sat up quickly, shaking as you met Tojo’s navy blue eyes. He was frowning, motioning towards the rolled-down window, and Ijichi, head of security for your building, leaned in, giving you a weak smile. With a quick rub to both your eyes, you placed your mask back on, going from the sleep-deprived woman you were transforming into the perky popstar everybody knew and loved.

“Ijichi! Hi!”

“Hi yourself, glad to have you back.”

Toji could see how your shoulders stiffened when you mentioned being back. “Oh, yep! It's good to be back.” Toji could see through your facade, while Ijichi was blind to it.

“I just wanted to let you know that we added more cameras to the building, and my security post will be far stricter with deliveries and anything else from this point on. We want you to feel safe here, and I’m sorry we failed to do that in the first place.”

“Oh no, it’s not your fault! Plus, I feel a lot better now that I have Fushiguro!” The man with glasses peered into the car, waving at your bodyguard whose face remained stoic, not returning the gesture. “Okay, uhm Ijichi, Toji; Toji Ijichi.”

No pleasantries were exchanged, not at all. The only thing Toji managed to do was give him a nod before focusing his attention back on the massive building and making a mental note to ask for access to the cameras. That way, he could keep an eye on you and ensure nobody was hanging around who wasn't supposed to be there. Those thoughts Toji was lost in made it a tranquil ride up the elevator to your apartment. He was leaving you feeling even more anxious. Usually, being around someone quiet never bothered you; you felt so relaxed around that person, but Toji’s cold demeanor and attitude toward your friend made you irritable.

“So, uhm, are you going to be that cold and standoffish every time you meet somebody I know?” You asked, finally allowing your heart mind to win over your mind.

“Huh?”

His dark gaze had you swallowing the lump suddenly in your throat. “I wanted to ask if this is going to be normal, you being—.”

“Oh, I am so sorry little star; I wasn't aware I needed to wear a fake ass mask around people too.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, and unfortunately, unlike you, I like wearing my face. I don’t have to be someone I’m not to get people to like me. Because quite frankly, I don’t give a damn if anybody likes me.”

“I don't eit—”

Toji scoffed, leaning against the elevator wall and shaking his head at your words. “Oh, please. You’re just like every other client I’ve had. All you care about is money, your appearance, and what sponsor deals you get.” His words made your blood begin to boil.

“You’ve barely known me for a couple of hours, and you think you know who I am?”

“Oooh yeah, you're some small-town girl that made it big. And instead of showing the world who you really are, you put on this fucking mask, one that hides the true you from the prying eyes of the world. You care only about ticket sales, making your fans happy, and sponsorships like the one you were talking about with your manager not even thirty minutes ago. So yeah, I’m sure I got a good idea of who you are. It’s my job to read people..”

This was the best security in the business; bodyguard your manager had set you up with? Ha! Yeah, right, this man was nothing more than a dickhead that had a lot of opinions that were far from true?!

You laughed, pushing yourself away from the wall to stand in front of the doors before him. “That's the great thing about wearing a mask around people I don’t fucking know. They get to see the real me, but I get to see people for who they truly are.” Toji opened his mouth to continue arguing with you, but only for you to quickly shut him down, holding a hand up before you. “You were right about a couple things; I do put on a mask, I love my fans, but I could give a damn about sponsorships.” Toji pushed himself off the wall, towering over you, gritting his teeth as he tried to control his evident anger.

“Oh, you suddenly don’t give a damn about sponsorships? I just heard you talking to your manager about one.”

“You don’t know anything about me! That whole conversation had nothing to do with this sponsorship!”

Tojo tilted his head back with a laugh. “Oh, right, of course. You don’t care about your amazing condo or all the money you’re making; you don’t care about those so-called nonexistent sponsorship deals.” The elevator rattled like the lid to the rage threatening to explode.

“Alright, yes, I do live in a nice apartment, one with security that sucks, but it’s still home. But for your information, I don’t do this for the money. You don’t know what I have planned on doing with my life, so I don’t want to hear you make assumptions about me! The conversation you so rudely eavesdropped on had nothing to do with a sponsorship deal but a massive donation I’m making to the local Children’s Hospital. The same hospital is well renowned for helping unfortunate children. So yeah, that whole conversation you listened to was me telling my manager to tag the hospital in my video because the hospital inspired the song! It was a public service announcement, a reminder to help those who can’t help themselves.”

Your rant was unexpected. Toji had never had one of his clients talk to him like that; strangely, he liked it.

“And another thi—”

The doors to the elevator slowly slid open with a ding as you reached your apartment. Usually, your automatic lights would be on in the living room and kitchen, leading upstairs. But as the doors opened, no lights illuminated your bodyguard's face. You knew something was wrong, and just before Toy could look over your shoulder into the apartment,Toji’s hand quickly covered your eyes. He pulled you into his chest, and he listened in as he smashed on the lobby button on the button panel.

“Toji!?” You asked, placing your hands on top of his. “What is it?! Is something wrong? Let me see!”

Toji shook his head as if you could see his reaction, his hand reaching for the gun at the holster on his side as the door slowly shut. There was no way in hell you were going to see what was behind the door. Because he knew if you were to see what had happened in your apartment, you would never be the same. As the elevator slowly began to descend, Toji realized that he had been wrong about your stalker. It wasn’t some harmless joke.

This was fucking serious.

(TBC)

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @luvsymai

[waterinz]

hi!! i looked thru ur rules of what u write/don’t write and didn’t rlly see anything abt it buttt i understand if u are uncomfortable writing abt this but would u write either gojo or toji x pregnant reader 🥹

i’m a sucker for those hehe love ur work btw 🩷

awww ty pookie 🥰

⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡ ⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡ ⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡ ⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡

Mini Fushiguro.

warnings: smut/fluff, cursing, other shit :3

pairings: rich!Toji Fushiguro x fempreg!reader

note: I’m not sure if you meant fluff or smut but I’m assuming it’s fluff. :3

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊🦈˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ ☆⋆｡

as you sat in your bed, watching some movies, you hear the downstairs door open. You could almost tell it was Toji from just the door opening, but since your legs were sore as hell from just walking to and from the bathroom, you opted to just wait for him.

“Tojiii!” You yelled happily, greeting him from upstairs.

“Good evening, my love.” He responded, not even a second late. You could hear the smile in his voice.

The door shut, Toji placed his key on the counter. He shuffled to the kitchen, before yelling upstairs to you.

“Need any snacks, doll?” He asked with precision, he wanted to ensure he fulfills your every request , even at his expense.

You pondered for a moment, before responding.

“Some fruit would be nice, and a water.” You simply asked, Although that’s probably light work to him.

Toji opened the refrigerator. taking out oranges, grapes and strawberries. He knows how much you hate to peel oranges because it pains your nails like a bitch, so he peeled the oranges for you, cut the leaves off of the strawberries and cut the grapes in half. He also poured you a glass of water, dropping in a thinly cut lemon slice. His heavy footsteps made their way up the stairs with your food.

You see a tall shadow approaching you door, Toji steps inside.

“How’s my wife doing?” He smirked, sitting down your fruit and water on the nightstand.

“Good, my legs do hurt though.” You explain, stretching a bit to the left.

“I can fix that, love.” He explained as he climbed onto the bed, he kicked off his shoes and sat them on the side of the bed.

Toji slightly lifted you up off of the bed and sat you on his lap. He moved you chin to face him, planting small kisses all over you. While simultaneously massaging your legs, thighs and stomach.

“Can’t want to meet lil miss fushiguro..” Toji added.

⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡ ⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡ ⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡ ⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡

[lolitakirstein]

Sore part 2/3

AN: GODDD WHY DO I WRITE SUCH LONG STUFF. There's just so much I want to put in. Anyway here is part one CW: Smut

I walked into the gym the next evening but it was more like a hobble. I'm more sore today than yesterday. I find Toji throwing punches at the punchbags. The sounds of his fist hitting the bag sound like gunshots and the bared teeth and scowl he's wearing are absolutely deadly.

I approach slowly, not wanting to startle him into whipping those fists around on me, but before I can say hi, he grabs the bag to still it.

"I've seen sloths move faster than you, grandma." He says breathlessly, wiping sweat from his brow.

"That's no way to treat a customer," I cross my arms and pout.

He chuckles and unwraps the taping from his large hands.

Am I really about to let this man touch me with those paws after what he just did to that bag?

"Is it still tight?"

"Excuse me," I shake out of my thoughts.

He rolls his eyes, "your neck? You said it was bothering you yesterday."

"oh, yeah." I try to save this conversation with humor. "But as you can see it's a bit more than my neck today. I'm more sore than yesterday"

"DOMS" he answers.

"Uhm, I"m more of a sub myself-"

He cuts me off with a booming laugh, "That's great to know, but DOMS is delayed onset muscle soreness. Happens from progressive overload."

My cheeks burn. Not only have I shown where my mind is twice (the gutter) I've also exposed my preferences (a whore).

"Youve been squatting heavier so it check out," he shrugs.

Is he hinting that he's been watching me squat?

"Yes I watch," he reads my mind.

"What? Why?"

He shrugs again, "I like to make sure everyone is using proper form."

"And how is my form?" i arch a brown

"Excellent," he croons, eyes slowing scanning my body. It's suddenly hotter than the sauna room in here.

"But you can quit the theatrics of pushing your ass out as far as you can. You'll hurt your lower back."

Fuck he is watching me be a whore

"I'll keep that in mind." I try to change the subject though I doubt where I'm going with this is any more appropriate. "So, if your not busy do you wanna take a look."

He pauses wiping off with a towel and we both stare at each other before it clicks what I just said.

"LOOK AT MY ALIGNMENT I MEAN!" i say quickly, but Toji already has a smug fucking looking gracing those scared lips.

+++

The gym's spa room is complete with a hot tub, sauna, tanning booths, and tables that customers can schedule for a masseuse to come in.

Toji gestures to the table, pressing a button that lowers it. "Hop on."

is he being suggestive now?

I sit on the table after removing my shoes. "How do you want me?"

Damn it's no wonder so many porns revolve around massaging, it's too damn easy.

"Well, let me feel your neck first." He steps behind me, "Is it ok if I touch you now?"

I nod. Fuck yes, you can sir.

"Let's get this hair out of the way," he says, gathering my hair in his large hand and laying it across my shoulder. The touch is gentle and comforting. Toji presses the pads of his thumbs along the base of my neck, "Tell me when it's tender."

He continues to palpate around my nape, hitting a tender spot right at the base of my skull. "Ouch right there, " i wince

He place his whole palm on the column of my neck, massaging up and down the area."Yeah, your really tight along the cervical spine area." (😏)

I pull away from his touch, too sore to take it.

"I'm sorry, too much?" He asks, placing his hand on my shoulder.

I nod and he waits for me to signal that he can continue.

"Do you get headaches alot?"

I nod again

"Hmph," he uses a lighter touch to prod my muscles. "Lay on your back for me."

I do as he instructs, placing my head in the desginated head rest.

Toji pulls a stool up, sitting his large thighs now framing my head. I close my eyes to not have to see him overtop of me. My face is literally between his legs wtf.

He puts both hands on the side of my neck, his fingertips push and rub against the base of my skull. It feels amazing in a painful way.

"Right there," i breathe when he hits a particular sore spot.

"Yeah? Does that feel good."

I whimper at the sensation...and at the low purr of his voice.

"I could adjust ya if ya let me. Just a quick crack."

"Uhm, I don't know," I sit up, suddently scared that this man is going to snap my neck. "That seems scary."

He laughs, "It wont hurt, I promise. Youll just hear the cracking like when you pop your knuckles."

I'm still unsure and look down at his large hands.

"I'll be gentle, I swear to you. It'll be quick." He eases me back down onto my back. "I won't kill ya. Would be a horrible PR stunt if i killed a woman in my own gym." He teases.

"Thanks, really reassuring thing to say with your hands around my throat." But damn if it wasn't a thrilling sensation to feel his warm palms pressing against my neck and his fingers slipping through my hair as he moves it out of the way.

"Alright," He pulls himself closer. My whole head is now fully in the palm of his hands. "Just relax, let me do the work."

I glance up quickly at yet another ambiguous comments. how many is that now.

I relax me head into his hands and his moves it side to side, feeling for the knots.

"Yeah right there it is," he says to himself.

Before I can think of anything salacious, Toji twist my neck to the side. A rush of heat enters my head and I gasp at the abrupt movement.

"There, breathe," he lays my head down on the table and rubs my shoulders encouragingly. "Good girl."

I take a deep breathe as more blood rushes to my head. it roars in my ears.

"Wasn't so bad was it?"

I shake my head. Too stunned to speak.

"How do you feel?"

"Wow, so much better" I laugh in relief at home incredible how my neck now feel.

"Now you said you have low back pain?" He swings around the side of the table. I nod. " Lay on your stomach."

Toji stands over my prone body, "I'm going to lift your shirt up a bit."

I feel the fabric slowly graze my low back, a chill springs up at the chill to the room temperature. But it's quickly heated by Toji's warm palms coming to rest right at the dimples above my ass. His thumbs dig it, moving in slow circles and I moan at the delicious pain.

"Seems like a pinched nerve. Nothing to adjust really."I hear toji readjust his positioning, "I need a better angle to push it back into place. "

He leans on the table, one knee bumping between mine so he's able to dig his thumb hard into my sacrum. "Just breathe."

I feel a nudge in my lower spine as he pushes into it, a tingling sensation shoots around my hips. I sigh in relief as the nerve is released.

"There we go," he continues to rub his thumbs into my back, and with the pain subsiding, I can't help but arch into his hands, losing myself to sensations. "Does that help?

When I nod, his hands move lower, spreading outward to grip my sides. "You have beautiful hips..."

I arch more into his touch, the movement causing my body to shift downwards, putting my aching core directly onto his knee. I fear I've gone too far but he doesn't move, just continues to rub my low back, moving slower, almost guiding my hips in circular motions.

The rough fabric of his sweats catches my already wet center. The thin yoga pants I'm wearing probably show just how aroused I am. I continue to grind on his knee; he continues to move my hips, completely silent as though he's afraid of snapping me out of this deviant act.

"Oh, god," I gasp, pushing my hard onto his knee as my orgasm rips through me. I lose myself in it, humping like a damn bitch in heat against him.

When I land back on earth and catch my breath, I push myself to my elbows. My hair sticks to my sweaty face.

Looking behind me at toji, I don't know what to expect. I see toji, still as a lake. His hands have loosened on my hips. He stares at me with pupils that completely engulf his green irises. His throat bobs as he swallows thickly and removes his knee from between my legs, coming to a standing position. My cheeks are on fire as I see the damp spot on his pants from me.

I stand quickly from the table, my blood rushes to my head and causes me to go blind momentarily. I stumble past him without waiting to see clearly.

After mumbling a thanks, I rush out the door, leaving my gym bag behind...

[retiredteabag]

Disney Princes I Associate With JJK Men - a brief analysis pt. 2

my masterlist

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Suguru - Naveen

This man is canonically a pretty boy, he also has a canon ego on him.

They are both arrogant and somewhat naive, also, in some ways quite selfish. (I lowkey considered Gojo for Naveen but lets be real he is Flynn Ryder)

Obviously, they have their shortcomings: easily influenced, for better or for worse. We saw Naveen become the better version of himself, and sadly this is not true of Geto.

Although he does not reach his positive potential in the jjk manga, I believe he could have, had be been presented with a better influence.

They are free-spirited, laidback, vain, and often seen as lazy, but when motivated, they are dedicated hard workers. Though they both take shortcuts and use others for personal gain, he brings joy to others.

Both are arrogant jocks that deep down, are very nice guys.

Sukuna - Shang

This man is NOT Prince Charming -_-.

I almost picked the Beast, however, I went with Mulan's Shang and here is why:

They are both powerful leaders, commanding and maintaining respect, and holds fast, even when the morals get murky.

He is the most reserved Disney prince, he also struggles to share his feelings with Mulan which I would see as a realistic trait of Sukuna.

He is the toughest, demanding and strict, but also shows care to those loyal to him. (ie. Uraume)

Choso - Hercules

Himbo.

They are earnest men, okay?

Kind and idealistic, he thinks the best of those he is close to and is shocked if he is betrayed.

The Disney adaption of Hercules states that "He would have given anything to be exactly like everybody else" but eventually becomes determined to put his exceptional power to good use. If that's not Choso then I don't know what is.

He is an outisder to both worlds, half man, half curse.

His story brings him to an understanding of where he truly belongs, he is dedicated to his family as well as fighting for the greater good.

uhhh.... an insane build as well.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Previous one: Nanami, Satoru, and Toji.

All fanart was retrieved from Pinterest, I recognize @hunnismokah here.

[cmdrfupa]

You sat on the edge of the bed, tugging on your socks as the morning sounds kept you awake. An unusually early Saturday morning for the both of you as Toji hummed in the bathroom while you got the last of a large yawn out.

The sunlight slanted in through the half-open blinds and the early chill to the day filled your bedroom as you moseyed to browsed over what to wear in the closet.

In the bathroom with the door cracked open, Toji’s rich, gravelly voice drifted out over the soft hum of the electric razor.

“Gonna be a long day,” he says, the razor going silent as he rinses his face. “That realtor said we’ll see, what… four or five places?”

“Four.” You glance over a skirt and hold it up to you, contemplating before looking in the mirror hanging on the wall. “But you know how it goes. If we don’t find something, we have time. Housing market should remain stable for another 6 months. There’s no rush.”

“Right. But if we don’t start wrapping things up, Megumi’ll be in college and Tsumiki’ll be visiting with a grandkid before we settle anywhere.” He lets out a low chuckle, warm and amused.

It didn’t register just how much time had passed until Toji realized he’d hit the goal amount to buy a house. 3 years of playing house and marrying turned into being worried about if a house will have proper irrigation systems that will last.

There’s a brief clatter, then the faucet comes on full blast as he rinses off the last of the shaving cream. “Speaking of which, you ready for those college visits?”

You laugh, slipping on your blouse and buttoning it up. “Ready, yes. Prepared? Not a chance. You know he wants to tour every campus in this province and a few overseas. He’s keeping you on your toes.”

“Kid’s got ambition,” Toji says, amusement lacing his voice. “Wonder where he gets it from.”

You can picture him leaning forward to scrutinize himself in the mirror, the way he sometimes squints as he checks for stray stubble along his jaw. Groaning at the small patch of gray he shaves off first every single time.

It’s one of those everyday scenes you never quite get tired of. He’s steady, predictable in his habits, but there’s an ease in the familiarity.

“So, what’s the dream house, huh?” he asks after a pause. There’s a hint of something lighter in his tone, playful almost. “Big yard for maybe another kid to practice in, good schools, fancy kitchen for you?”

“A quiet neighborhood would be nice.” you say, tugging on your jeans. “And, yeah… I wouldn’t mind a spacious kitchen.”

Toji snorts, as the idea of him caring about school districts is somehow amusing. “Skipping over the yard part? Come on, what’s one more kid? A little mini me running around. Would be nice.”

You laughed grabbing your belt, pulling it through the loops as you stepped out in the bedroom. “Let’s get the house first. Then we can discuss having a kid with your big head and features. Sound good?”

“Guess we’re going full domesticated life now, huh? Yard sales on Sundays? Book club on Tuesdays? Starting to think you’re losing your touch, pretty lady.”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes even though he can’t see it. “You’d love it. Don’t even pretend.”

A beat later, Toji steps out into the bedroom, adjusting the collar of his dark red polo. The sleeves were fitted just enough to hint at the broadness of his shoulders, the solid strength of his arms bulging. The deep red complemented his dark hair perfectly. His khakis hug his waist and tapered down, showing off the powerful lines of his legs and the definition there—he looks effortlessly good, a little rugged but undeniably refined.

He catches you looking, his lips curving into a sly, knowing grin. “Like what you see?”

“Your ass.. Jesus,” you tease back, though your eyes are unabashedly admiring. The camel colored pants fit him like a glove. The way they accentuated his thighs made you want to scream. “Since when do you go for khakis?”

“Hey, I clean up nice.” He closes the distance between you in two easy strides, dropping a casual hand on your shoulder. He gives a slight squeeze before letting his fingers trail down your arm.” I bought them from that wholesale store. You know the one with the family size peanut butter?”

“The one that you single handedly empty out for your thick ass smoothies?”

“That’s the one.” Toji squeezes your rear and winks. “Anyway, figured I’d match the high standards. Realtors are probably used to dealing with rich types. Gotta look the part, right?”

“Eh. If nothing else, you’ll charm them into knocking down the price.”

He chuckles, bending down just enough to press a quick, lingering kiss to your forehead then your lips.” I’m starting to think you married me for my looks and devilish charm.”

“For the last time, Toji,” you gently wiped his chest, loosening the wrinkles before. “Yes. I did.”

He picked you up with ease, laughing as he wrapped your legs around him. “You’re unbelievable. And I thought you loved me.” Toji laid you on the bed, kissing your neck and holding your waist letting your pleas and laughter warm him up inside. “Am I just a scary dog and eye candy for you?” He teased.

“You’re much more than that. Great support system, incredible cook, inhumanely patient.” You ran your fingers over the nape of his neck as he hovered over you. “Hefty wallet when you aren’t losing during horse racing season.”

“I don’t lose often… anymore.” His lips curled into a boyish smile as he helped you sit up on the edge of the bed. He grabbed your shoes, lacing them on you before helping you stand. “Now. Let’s go get your dream house, baby doll. It’s been a long time coming.”

“Let’s go get it, baby boy.”

There was always something grounding about the routines you had together. Those quiet moments where you planned for the future with the same unhurried certainty that he shaves with, that he presses his lips to your skin with.

The thought of the three of you wandering through endless corridors of empty houses, each one holding the promise of a new start, filled you with a gentle anticipation.

And no matter where you ended up, it was always going to feel home if you had one another.

[ssoliloquyy]

toji fushiguro if he woke up and decided to shoot for olympic silver instead of the star plasma vessel 🤠👍

[obsesssedblerd]

toji gets pictures from you every day. over the course of nine months, you bought at least a million animal-themed onesies. toji didn't understand your small obsession until little megumi was born, and his heart nearly burst as he watched you tenderly dress the baby in a puppy onesie. whenever he's at work and he randomly smiles at his phone, it's because you sent him a new photo of megumi adorably dressed as a different animal from the day before. he saves every picture into an album titled "my world," which has well over a hundred photos of you and megumi.

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

Only him

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x reader

Summary: You always had a thing for retro games. When you got a old dating game from a pawn shop for practically free, you thought you were blessed. how wrong were you.

Warning: Yandere!Toji, Fictional love triangle, Horror? Al!sentient!Toji, Angst, Panty smelling, A hint of somnophilia, Perv!Toji, Domestic abuse, Manhandling, Smut, fingering, squirting, cum-shot, cream pie, hair pulling, choking, this is a dark fanfic.

Today was the best day ever! You had a good feeling about this day, but you didn't know why until now!

You squealed loudly as you stepped out of the local pawn shop, unable to help it; you danced with happiness and began to walk to your shoe box of an apartment while ignoring the disapproving stares of those who watched the scene.

The thud of your purse colliding with the floor didn't faze you, either when you almost tripped over your toss shoes. Too absorbed to care.

Flopping onto your bed, you took in the details of the Nintendo game card. The picture on the front was a bit chipped but it was still eye-catching. A pink heart sat front and center, with tiny red lettering of the title in the middle, and a park with cherry blossoms trees was the background. Mr. Right, hmm? I see about that.

Grabbing your old Nintendo Switch from your bedside table, you popped the card in the side and waited. A cheerful, 90s tune sounded out as the picture on the card filled your switch screen. With a smile, you turned to lay on your back as you clicked play, and once the pink screen faded, a menu of different features graced you. Character list?

The first roll of characters was less than eye-catching, and although the designs were made to be attractive, none captivated you. The second roll appeared to be just the same when two characters that stood side by side caught your attention. Black ragged hair lay on his forehead and almost covered the beautiful green eyes of the first character; they were like a freshly cut emerald, shined to perfection. His lips pulled up into a smug smirk, and an old scar ran down the right side of his mouth. The black jacket and white button-up shirt did nothing to hide his muscular build.

You gulped as your core pulsed.

The other character was just as handsome. His hair was white as snow, styled in a half down half spiked hairstyle, giving him a boyish look. His eyes rivaled the older man before him, pure light blue. Unlike the other character, his build was slimmer but no less attractive, his playful, cocky grin did things no real man could do to you.

Well, you knew what characters you'd be playing with.

Days passed and you couldn't put down your switch. Every lunch break at work was spent playing Mr. Right rather than eating and at night, the only light in your apartment was the screen light of your game. You were like a dead girl walking, dark bags under your eyes and a slouched posture; you swore you heard a kid's small scream as you placed down his and his mother's food on the table of the cafe where you worked.

So when things begin to go missing, you blame it on your tiredness. Surely, you must have misplaced them. You mean, who would break into your home to steal a few of your used underwear, o-or like your old t-shirts? Right, that's insane! You didn't think you were too interesting to be stalked; god you need to take a break from reading Yandere stories.

You shook your head and scoffed at yourself as you left your apartment, locking the door before you walked to work.

The room was purged in an eerie silence until suddenly loud, unsettling static screamed out of your left open switch. The lights of your apartment flickered rapidly as the sound seemed to grow louder when everything turned off, pitching the entire apartment building into darkness.

Toji stood in front of your twin-sized bed, running his hand over the imprint in the mattress when the light flicked on. He inhale shakily as the tips of his fingers traced the slight dip as memories flood his sick head, the nights he lay behind you his hands on your tits, pawing and squeezing them in his palms before he abandoned one breast as he runs his hand down your body to your warm cunt but just before he touched you there. He stopped. He couldn't. He wanted you to be awake to feel his love.

Toji stepped back, pushing the memory away as he moved around the small place you called home.

Shamrock orbs tailed around the quiet space, taking in the half-clean and half-messy state until they found the object of their desire. Toji walked in the direction of his favorite item, and without much thought, he snagged a pair of used panties from the laundry basket and buried his nose in the worn fabric. A deep rumbling groan escaped his chest and his eyes flattered shut. The scent of your old musky still clung to it, and he inhaled it like it was the most intoxicating, sweet smell. To him. It was. It was the essence of his goddess, his doll. The one who helped him see the value of life.

Without you, he'd never have broken away from his cured reality, who always seemed so eager to see him and..that white-haired punk. Toji shook his head, disgusted at the thought of the other man, and instead filled his mind with you. Toji spent the rest of the time you were gone to learn more and, of course, returned to the game after picking some trinkets along the way.

The game was starting to get a little weird. At first, it was normal. You'd interact with Toji, your in-game father none the wiser of the relationship between his daughter and best friend, then you'd hang out with your college classmate and friend Gojo. When you begin to notice every time you played with Gojo, a small chibi in the form of toji would peek around the corner of the screen every once in a while. Then it became more disturbing. You couldn't find the blue-eyed male anywhere; almost like he was completely deleted from the game.

On top of that, the older man would say and ask things that were too specific and too possessive. One day, he'd ask you where you went and who you were with when you suddenly had to leave your switch at home because of a family emergency. He'd go on about how he was your true love, and you simply thought maybe he was programmed that way, but it was no less creepy. You eventually just decided to take the day off from playing.

You woke up with a jump and groaned. Your phone vibrated and pinged with your chosen notification sound constantly. "Ya gonna answer me dollface?" A guff, baritone voice spoke in the empty room, and with a small scream, you slammed your back against the wall your bed was pushed against. Scanning hecticly for any human form.

"Over here." The voice spoke, closer than you heard the first time and to your right. Looking to your bedside table, sat your phone, lit up with an unnerving light; you picked it up with a shaking hand, and a cold dread settled within your stomach as Toji stared back at you with a small smirk, his eyes dark with such intensity. "There ya are. Hi, doll." His smirk widens at your terrified expression. "H-how?" Your voice cracked with fear, how was this possible? This couldn't be real; this only happened in movies! But apparently fucking not.

"Don't know myself, but that not 'mportant. You thought you could just ignore me? Doll this doesn't work that way." his smirk faded, and without warning, your phone suddenly flew out of your hand, crashing to the floor, and a blinding light overtook the space, blurring your vision. Once your vision came back, the beefy man stood before you, his eyes bore into you.

That was only the beginning of the nightmare that became your life. You were trapped in a place you once thought that nothing bad could happen to you as long as you lived there. Toji never let you leave his sight, food and other stuff you needed were ordered and brought to your door. Your phone and other devices were completely contorted by the man who currently seemed to watch your every move like he was taking you in. Many times, you tried to escape, but you came to the knowledge that although Toji could sleep, the moment your feet would touch the floor, Toji's eyes opened and, in a sleepy voice, asked where you were going. He was a light sleeper, that's just your damn luck.

Maybe...there was a chance you could tire him out enough he was knocked out cold, giving you enough time to escape. Now you were no virgin, you had your fair share of sex, so you thought it would be a piece of cake. Oh, how laughable.

Toji's thick digits, curled and pushed against that gushy spot in your spongy core, and his palm smacked against your poor, rubbed raw clitoris as you desperately tugged at his cock. You cried out as your head was pulled back by the strands of your hair. "There she is. C'mon on, doll, look at 'er," He whispered against your ear as he forced you to look into the mirror, his grip tightening as your pussy clenched. In the reflective glass, you look just as wrecked as you felt. Lidded eyes stared back at you as you took everything in, your hair was pulled into a ponytail by the man behind you, three of his fingers thrust into your puffy cunt, and squirts of slick jutted out to cover your thighs, his palm, and the floor. One of your hands holds onto his arm, and the other slides up and down his cock.

"ain't she the fuckin' prettiest?" Toji bit your earlobe as he no longer thrusted but began to shake his digits rapidly against your walls. You screamed as you violently came, clear liquid spraying out, drenching Toji's palm that rubbed your clit as he continued to finger you. Your hips jerked, your legs shook, and tears cascaded down your face; you looked like a slutty mess in the mirror.

"Fuuuck!" You hissed in pain, your hands barely catching yourself as your knees sit the hard wooden floor; the only thing that held you up, that being Toji's arm, was ripped away. Yet you had no time to truly feel the pain in your kneecaps as your locks yanked backward, training your orbs onto the man in all his naked glory, his strawberry pink tip wept pre-cum and the owner of such a beautiful tip, fisted his dick as he growled and snarled until he let out a groan and pearly, spurts of semen painted your face, to your cheek, nose, and chin.

"Fuckin' hell, doll," Toji panted, "s' beautiful covered in me." He wiped his seed off your chin with his thumb and spread it on your lip like a gloss, and without thought your tongue traced your bottom lip, tasting his cum. Earning yourself a pretty groan before you were pulled up from the ground and onto your wobbly legs. "Toji-i can't." You stuttered, your back hitting the mattress, crawling up the bed in a fertileless attempt to worm from his grasp, but his hands gripped your hips and pulled your back til your ass laid on his thighs, "T-too sensitive. Please." You begged basically to a wall.

"ya can handle me, my doll can handle anythin'." He cooed, his thumb rubbing the dip of your hip as his other hand, took the base of his member and lined up with your cunt. "Toji-plea-" your words were cut as you screamed, his fingers dug into your neck and his thick length buried itself in your snug pussy

"Mmmm..Shiiiit babydoll!" Toji laughed as he stared down at where he disappeared into you, slowly drawing his hips back, "She's squeezin' me, nugh..think she's lovin' my dick." Toji's wicked green eyes glanced up, and with a nasty grin he snapped his hips, and your mouth dropped as you openedly moaned, tossing your head back against the pillow. Your thighs were pushed to the side as The older man put all his weight onto you and used it to drill you into the mattress. "You..mmfuck like this? Betcha do, takin' my cock like a champ." He chuckled, groaning at the end as your pussy clenched at his words. You babbled in denial and shook your head. You didn't want to give him an even bigger ego, but you couldn't help the mewl that left your lips as his fingers squeezed the sides of your neck and his other fingers entangled in your hair, "Don't fuckin' lie to me, girl." He sneered, his heaving chest against your smashed breast as his hips snapped, not missing a step behind him, "Jus' let me make that..fuck..pretty pussy cum." He lowered his voice, almost like he was begging you, as he gently kissed your chin, his hand letting go of your hair and his grip loosening around your neck.

You nodded desperately, you gave up on pretending like you weren't losing your mind from this pleasure, and the way it felt his cock felt was in your tummy, or the pleasurable stinging of his hefty ball smacking against the carve of your ass. The softness in Toji melted away like it was just a show, an act, and a wicked, nasty grin was your one warning. His beefy biceps wrapped around your thighs, and he stood up. Your shoulder was the only thing besides your head that stayed on the bed. The echo of your ass smacks against his hips, the wet, squelching echo as he rapidly pounded your slick drooling cunt, the cream of your sex and his pre-cum that framed his base, and the new punishing angle was all it took. You came, your slick gushing down your body.

"Mmfuc..you're milkin' me baby doll." Toji moaned, his cock throbbed as he stilled to a stop as his cum flooded your womb and walls. You had a second to catch your breath before Toji resumed his brutal fucking.

Your eyes slowly open, adjust to the darkness of the room and turn to Toji, the said man in question, lying beside you, sleeping peacefully after multiple rounds, and yet somehow, someway, you were conscious; maybe someone was rooting for you out there. Inhaling you softly planted your feet on the cool wood and lifted your weight. Not a single stir.

Hope gripped your chest as you quietly put on the clothes you wore that were fling when you seduced Toji. Every cautious step towards the door was like you could finally breathe, and once you touched the handle of the door and twisted it open, you could taste your freedom.

Burly appendages wrapped around your stomach, and you yanked away from the door, ripped away from your only chance at escape. "LET ME GO!!" You screamed and thrashed in his arms. "Ya thought I was stupid? Huh?" He grunted as he tightened his hold as you doubled your efforts. "DAMN IT LISTEN TO ME!!" Toji yelled, turning you around. "N-" you tried to scream, to call for help, do anything, but all you could do was stare up at Toji in shock after your body barreled onto the floor by the force of his slap. "You think I'm dumb? You showed no sign of sexual arousal to me until now. Ya thought I wouldn't have known you were gonna pull some shit like this after we fucked?!" He sneered, pulling you onto your feet by your arm, his other hand on your back.

"You ain't leavin' me," Toji vowed. The low static sound that hung in the background became louder as the light bulbs flickered. "I'll make sure of that." The screening static grew more deafening until it all stopped; the bright light of your switch faded away, and no later did it slam shut.

Locking you from the real world forever.

@ilovewriothesley, @scratkount , @tojishugetiddies, @shyartnerd564, @blobkvna, @1800imgay, @plsthinkabtme @karla91663, @pierrotandsam , @miau-ficreader, @tojispepperonis, @darkstarlight82, @crimbabyops , @verlhfghhy, @xxmaddhatter39xx , @grima4lurking, @littlesealpup

[torutorubaby]

ᯓ★ JJK MEN PORN LINKS^᪲᪲᪲

this is pt.2, pt.1

Toji, Kento, Satoru, Geto

TOJI

good fuckin slut

sweet little honey on the road

“Daddy will be home soon, baby...”

virgin killer

KENTO

all yours

bounce on your husband's cock, baby

making you feel good

after a long day

SATORU

the strongest bouncing you on his strongest

distracted in the kitchen

gift after a mission

take it then

GETO

you're so perfect...

my perfect fucktoy.

fucking the teacher for a better grade

turning you into his little cockcrazy monkey