#toji x y/n

[gojosprettyprincess]

ִ ˖ ࣪⭑ OLDER BF TOJI TOUCHING AND TEASING HIS SHY GF :(

Tw- just Toji being a perv :p (not proofread)

You’re comfortably seated on his lap, and the only thing currently on your mind is to peacefully continue watching the shitty comedy movie you chose about twenty minutes ago since it was movie night and you always looked forward to it but it's getting awfully difficult to even concentrate when his large hands are roaming every curve of your body in existence.

His fingertips gently glide over the supple skin beneath the hem of your tank top, while his other hand is shamelessly groping at the soft flesh of your breasts with unbridled desire like you’re some piece of meat that’s on display for him to grab and touch whenever he feels like it.

He's planting little kisses into the crook of your neck and occasionally mumbling how much he loves you and telling you how sweet you smell and all you can do is slightly arch your back and squirm under his touch because you don’t know what else to do :(

You can feel the heat igniting between your core as your tummy flutters with Toji’s every move. At this point you just want him to pull his thick cock out from his sweatpants and fuck you face down till you're drooling all over his couch but you’re way too shy and flustered to ever admit something like that.

You hated how unbelievably fast he could easily get you all riled up and horny for him and he knew it.

Most of the time Toji is the one to take the lead when it comes to initiating sex unless he's randomly waking up in the middle of the night with his twitching, wet cock nestled all the way inside of you while you’re sitting on top of him because you think it’s less embarrassing when you do it while he’s sleeping.

But now you’re so eager and your cunt is aching to be filled with Toji’s girth. You love it when his cock is stuffing the little gape in your cunt, it makes you feel so full of him but yet you still can’t get enough. You whined softly when you felt him hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pajama shorts— thinking that you’re finally about to get what you’ve been longing for.

But no.

He rested his hand on the curve of your pelvis before slowly tracing a long, tantalizing stripe along the sensitive skin of your neck with his warm, moist tongue and lifting his head to gaze at your flustered face.

“Aww, What’s wrong baby?”, he teased with a taunting smirk when he saw the cute little disappointing pout visible on your face. He was such an expert at getting on your nerves and annoying you with how much he teased you that sometimes, you just wanna punch him in the chest but even that would probably just make him laugh at you even more because of how adorable you look when you’re trying to act tough.

“Toji.. you know what” you murmured softly, your words almost lost in the quiet of the room, as you gently adjusted your position on his lap, moving to sit more comfortably on his big clothed erection that's poking out through the crotch of his sweatpants instead of just his thighs.

He chuckled at your eagerness, his warm breath tickling your ear. “Hmmm I don’t think so baby, why don’t you tell dear old Toji?”. The hand that was squeezing your boobs, now firmly gripping your hips, his calloused fingers digging into your soft skin. “Y’know I'm getting older and dumber as the days go by”.

“I n-need you” you whined softly, feeling vulnerable as you shifted your gaze downward to avoid meeting his piercing green eyes, heart pounding in your chest because you knew his penetrating stare lingered over your shoulders.

“Yeah? You need me? Where do you need me, sweetheart?”. He playfully inquired. You can feel the big pool of slick damping your panties as you feverishly bite your glossy lips. You can feel the throbbing bump of Toji directly under your needy core and you can’t stop thinking about it finally being buried deep inside the deep depths of pussy to the point where his jabby tip is resting at the entrance of your womb, he’s all you want at this point.

“Need you inside of me, Toji” you finally blurted out as rested your head on his strong shoulders in disbelief that you actually said that out loud. Toji couldn’t help but smirk before moving his fingers that were touching your pelvis deeper into your underwear till he could feel the puddle of sticky wetness soaking through the cotton. “Fuck, you’re so wet, didn't know you were such a needy slut like this”.

He rests his middle finger at the entrance of your yearning hole, feeling the tantalizing sensation of more slick trickling out, almost making him want to stuff his face into your delicious pussy and taste you but that’s for another time. “is this where you want me baby?”. He asked before planting a kiss on your earlobe. “In here?” He lightly probes at your dripping hole as you grab onto his meaty forearm.

“Y-yes— Toji”

“You want me to split your pussy open around my dick?” You whimpered at his sudden vulgar bluntness as you eagerly nodded your head like some stupid slut.

“God… you're so dirty, baby” he chuckled in a mocking tone like he was trying to embarrass you as if he's not just as eager to stuff his painfully hard and throbbing dick in your warm hole and feel the creamy mess you'd decorate his shaft with slowly tainting his cock.

[lovekawaas]

setting the pace w your jjk college boyfr! p 2

cw: metions of sex (MDNI); not proofread

ft: k. nanami, s. gojo, t. fushiguro

a/n: find part 1 here! all of these are early relationship messages

k. nanami

s. gojo

t. fushiguro

[konekobby]

These two freak nasty mfs where doing too much lmao

I bet it was obvious as fuck that these two were dtf to everyone involved and no one said anything

Cuz ain’t no way Megumi didn’t know that she was sucking Toji off lmaooo

Megumi is better than me cuz hands would have to be run both of them are getting fucked up lmao

Idk they he be letting come over n do whatever I wouldn’t be shocked if poor Megumi liked her lol

Daddy Likes Crazy Girls

Pairings - Dilf Toji Fushiguro x fem reader

Summary -You're Megumi's best friend, and spend more time at the Fushiguro home than at your dorm room, and since you were a kid you've had it bad for Megumi's dad. He was always cool and fun until you got older, then he started being gruff and rude. Well, that just won't do, because you know you need his attention, and you decide to make his life a living hell, but Toji decides to give that hell right back on you. Who will finally give in!?

CW - age gap- Toji is 39, reader is 20, lowkey hint of somnophilia, rough blow jobs, dirty talk, Toji AND reader ain't shit, using others to make e/o jealous, fingering, cunnilingus, rough sex, dirty talk, highkey daddy kink, spitting, choking, reader and Toji freaks. Megumi and Yuuji are reader's age no NSFW w/them (reader uses Yuuji to piss Toji off but it's SFW) Basically it's nasty, filthy DILF Toji smuttt - WC- 7.5k

Based on Your Best Friend's Dad Toji - The pic on the left is from here (tears on a withered flower) I could not find a source for the Toji image! Reblogs/comments so appreciated if you enjoy!

Toji stiffens… in multiple ways as you saunter out that morning, as he’s throwing back two ibuprofen and sipping on bitter coffee, black, just out he likes it. You’re rubbing your eyes just a bit and yawning, stretching up your arms, tiny crop top stretched tight on your breasts, which bounce as your arms rest, and his goddamn cock twitches. He literally turns away, facing the counter then.

“Morning, Mr. Fushiguro.” You say brightly, sleep still in your voice, and he grumbles a hello, tensing when you walk towards him. “Oh, coffee, can I have some? I’m so beat and I have that test later.”

“Yeah, yeah… go ahead kid.” You glare at his strong back, shirtless and muscled, calling you kid when you were damn near old enough to drink, when you drove and worked and went to college.

You’re no kid.

You gently touch his shoulder, trying to get through to the coffee maker in the little kitchen, feeling him tense, as he narrows his eyes, looking over at you, lips pressing together, that scar just stretched a bit over his lip. You lean forward, breasts in his full view, as you start brewing your own cup, and he damn near rubs his hard cock at the sight of your nipples poking out.

God you annoy him, always over here, sure when you were younger it didn’t bother him, you were Megumi’s friend, a good one at that, and a good kid. And as a teen even, you had your shit together, living without your own parents, you had spent a ton of time here. But when you hit about eighteen or nineteen, and you just… started looking at him like you are now!?

Dilated eyes, lowered lashes, licking your goddamn lip?

When you started wearing less and less, and frequently crashed right on his couch, in various states of undress? When your tits jiggled just so, or you bent over in front of him, shorts riding up a bouncy ass? When you giggled and brushed your fingers against his arm?

You drive Toji fucking insane.

He’s tired of jerking it to his son’s best friend, he’s tired of picturing your thighs spread as he fucks women, you’re… infuriating him, actually. Batting your lashes and shooting little smiles, constantly trying to ruin him. Sure, people thought Toji was a creep, a pervert, a fucking whore, and to some extent, he was those things, but with women his age.

Being almost forty and having a very annoying, sexy and tempting twenty year old was not fucking okay. Sure, it’s one thing to jerk it to you, how could he not, but it’s harder and harder with every passing day not to give in, to play with that pussy he’s seen hints of, to suck on those pretty nipples that seem to always be poking out of something you wear.

Toji can’t stand you.

“Have a rough night, Mr. Fushiguro?” You ask then, and he turns his forest green eyes looking down at you, while you pour a little sugar in the cup, taking one of the spoons from his wooden drawers and then stirring it.

“Huh, no rough night. Slept fine.” Jerked it to the thought of you at midnight, and dammit he enjoys his sleep.

“Got it, you seem a little grumpy though.” You tease, nudging him with your shoulder playfully, just that alone makes him wanna spread you wide on this goddamn counter, picturing how your pretty pussy would be in his face.

“Grumpy, doll?” He asks, you giggle a little, looking up at him, the man you’ve had it bad for since you can remember.

As much as you love Megumi, a huge part of you coming here was for him, Toji, Megumi’s far too sexy father. Sure, Megumi was your age, but you two were just too close, but also, Toji. Rippling abbed, strong muscled, thick fucking Toji. The man whose muscles have muscles, and those lazy green eyes, that straight nose with plump ass lips?

The man who you know takes care of business, shit you’ve seen him on nights kissing down girl’s necks, shooting you a quick look before he’d grab their hair, their waist, like you could vividly picture it being you? The man who you could constantly see his thick, girthy outline in these slutty grey sweats he wears?

You want him.

You always have, but at first it was perhaps admiration, or a childhood crush, but now that you’re almost twenty one, and you’ve had sex, you’ve had experience, you can’t stop thinking that Toji knew what to do. Can’t stop thinking how badly you’d love to see that cock just begging for attention, have it down your throat, have him bend you over this kitchen table.

Your mind gets so sidetracked you forget he’s said anything you you, clearing your throat and shrugging. “A little grumpy to me in general lately.”

Toji scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Excuse me for not bein’ Mr. Fuckin Sunshine all the time, doll.”

Doll.

Imagine him saying ‘doll’ as he pounds your little pussy.

Fuck.

You shift just a bit, his gaze catches it. “Hmm, you’ve just been a little mean to me. I used to come… to you all the time, you know.” You smile just a bit, his lips are parted, then you sigh. “Have a good day, Mr. Fushiguro.”

“Damn brat.” He mutters, running his hand through inky locks.

Since you hate your dorm mate, you always come over there, and Megumi never minds, he just gives you a lazy little smile, sometimes you crash in his room, he’ll even take the floor, or separate you all with a body pillow. He listens to your bullshit, with a little sigh and bored face, but he listens. Megumi has been your good friend, even through breakups and makeups with his best friend, Yuuji.

You’d been on and off with Yuuji for years, as the two of you are probably better off friends, but Yuuji is so damn sweet, and so down bad, you end up back with him again, much to the disdain of Toji. When you’re sitting on Yuuji’s lap, hand running through pastel hair, while Megumi and him game, you feel it, Toji Fushiguro’s glare right at you.

Something excites you so much from it, you get overheated, you get wet from your thoughts, and Yuuji would nervously notice, blushing.

You’re kind of shit for that, for being with Yuuji when the man you want is right there, but he never seems to understand that you’re a woman. No skimpy outfit or flirty looks do a damn thing, to the point you think… it’s all in your head, it has to be, some childish fantasy that you have to let go.

Little do you know, as you’re kissing Yuuji, and that boy’s hand is on your waist, Toji has to go to the damn bathroom, and start stroking his cock. He tries to muffle his moans, while he curses you internally, for making him act like some dumb teen. And your smiles are as if you know.

One night Toji comes home and sees you on the couch, with one of your fucking pretty, perfect titties out, shoved out from your twisted little crop top, just begging him to touch it. He goes over, cock leaking precum, to cover you up, but he bends on a knee instead, brushing your hair back, watching your lips part, tempting him to no goddamn end.

Imagine how they’d feel on his -

He clears his mind, or tries to, deciding to fix your tank top, but his thumb brushes your nipple on accident, eliciting a soft whine from your perfect lips, your areola tightening just from his touch. He pauses, hating himself then, but he has to just bend down, pressing a kiss on that peak, and then your hand instinctively grips his hair, making him freeze, wondering what the fuck he’s doing.

“Toji…” You whisper, his eyes shoot up, but you’re fast asleep, shit you’re dreaming of him, like he’s worth a gorgeous girl like you dreaming of his old ass, but he laps at your nipple, before he can stop himself, hot wet tongue tasting your sweet skin. “Mnh!”

Shit.

He pulls back, but sucks your pretty nipple in his mouth for just a moment, greedily, hand brushing over your body and the thin fleece that’s slung over your hips, feeling your heat even through it 

Fuck, shit, fuck.

He pulls back, exhaling and swiping up the slick from your nipple with his rough thumb, picturing how pretty your tits would look covered in his ropes of cum, before he stops himself, covering you up quickly and rushing to his room. He can’t do shit like that…

Why are you dreaming of him though?

It’s still not okay… right?

Nor is it okay he wanted to touch that heat, lap up your juices, watch your sleepy face construe in pleasure. He can’t, can’t, can’t. So instead he’s stroking his aching cock, which slaps his belly button as it’s released, stroking it with his hand in little twists, imagining it now, the taste of your nipple in his mouth, until he’s spurting cum all from that reddened tip.

He can’t.

*****

Toji becomes meaner, gruffer, ignoring you, trying to fall into every woman he can, all while you come over less and less, thank god. But you can’t stop thinking of him, he’s a constant thought as you play with yourself, having dreams of him that feel too real and you come over one more time, already lit as you call Megumi, and he yawns, letting you in.

“You’re so needy, tch.” He grumbles, you giggle then, kissing his cheek, earning his eye roll.

“You’re the best friend ever.” You kiss his cheek again and he grimaces, taking in your attire.

“You went all slutty looking to that party, hmm? Mad at Yuuji?”

“Gumi!”

“Hot, just slutty. Go put on my clothes or something.” He says, with another yawn, ruffling your hair then.

“All right, I will in a bit, but… one more drink?” He chuckles, gesturing to the fridge.

“There’s beer in there, but I suggest water after.”

“Sure, dad.”

Megumi basically was Toji’s dad, way too mature always. He rolls his green eyes, just a little darker than his father’s, yawning again. “You know where everything is, crazy ass. I’m off to bed.”

“Night, Gumi, thank you!”

“Yeah yeah.” He shuts his door, as you’re just a little tipsy, curious where Toji was… some date, you’re sure. He’s sort of notorious for the women he has, though you’ve never seen the man have an actual serious girl.

You crack open a beer, sighing now, still clad in your- as Megumi dubbed it- slutty black dress, sitting in the kitchen chair as you sip the beer, right when the door opens and shuts. Toji walks in, actually wearing some dress shirt and slacks, different from the thin work out tees and sweats you normally see, and pauses when he sees you in the chair, his lips clamping shut.

“Have fun, Mr. Fushiguro?” You ask now, crossing your legs, allowing him to see your pretty, perfect pussy as he realizes you aren’t wearing shit under that dress. He gulps, mouth opening, before he eyes your peer in your pretty little hand, the kitchen suddenly far too small.

“What?” He manages, and you uncross your legs again, standing and walking closer to him, looking so sexy and pretty he wants to yank you by your goddamn hair, show you just how to get fucked.

He doubts you get fucked good, you’re too bitchy and needy, he can just tell, you need someone to split you in two. You lean against the counter, tilting your head, looking so slutty in this dress, tits out, thighs showing, hugging every curve and line of that banging body.

You’re sent to fuck him up, he’s sure of it, whatever his shitty past was, you’re the punishment.

“Have fun?” You practically purr the words.

“You old enough to drink, brat?” He demands, and you giggle again, touching his chest just a bit, but that alone is setting him the fuck off, as his hands clench and unclench at his sides.

“Old enough for lots of things.” You look right up at him, tummy clenching with how tall he is, how big he is, mind running fucking insane.

“Still a fucking kiddo.” He grumbles, opening the fridge now, taking a beer out of it and gulping it down, struggling not to let in.

Annoying brat that you are.

“So, did you have a date?’

“Yep.”

“Did you get off?”

“The fuck!?” He demands, sputtering as you giggle, buzzed and finally bold enough to spit it out, as you see him scowl, leaning down. “You said what?”

“Did you get off, Mr. Fushiguro?” You repeat again, batting those long lashes, some fake ones you wear that shouldn’t be as hot as they are on you.

“The fuck, brat?” He grabs you by the hair on the back of your neck with one big hand, the pull of it making you soaking wet, dripping down your thighs.

“I could help you, you always gave me such good advice as a kid you know, as a teenager. Even though you’re so mean now to me.” You lean even closer, pouting, he tastes the sweetness mixing with the liquor in your system, shaking his head, teeth clenched together.

“Don’t know what you’re fucking saying, doll. Should shut your brat mouth up.” His words go straight to your pussy, when his finger finds you between your thighs, and he curses, you’re slick and so hot. “Slutty ass didn’t even wear panties with this little outfit huh? Want all those college boys to see?”

“I’m sure they did. But that wasn’t the- question- ngh!” When he swipes a rough finger against your clit, your moan does him in.

“This soaked just talking to me?” He whispers, you barely are able to form a coherent thought or answer.

You trail your fingers down to his cock, gripping it and raising a brow. “Want me to help you Mr. Fushiguro? That girlfriend suck you good enough?”

“Keep fucking talking shit, brat, you’ll regret it.” He whispers hoarsely, only for you to smile up at him.

“Oh, gonna teach me a lesson - daddy?”

“Fucking brat I swear to…” He shoves you down on your bare knees then, right on Toji’s tile floor, and you gasp when you watch him free his cock, gulping as you see just how huge it is, thick and veiny, and you look up at him then. Tall, intimidating, cock right next to your lips, while he grabs your hair. “Got one chance to come to your senses, doll- ah, fuck!”

You lap at him, and soon you find yourself sucking every bit of your best friend’s dad’s cock all the way in your throat, burning as it stretches to try to accommodate him, and he’s so thick and long it’s damn near impossible to take him all. Your nails are pressing against his slacks as you move your head, sucking him so sloppy, drooling all over him.

Toji can’t take how good your mouth feels, how pretty your eyes are as they fill with tears for him, gripping your hair with his fingers and now fucking your face. “Shut you up huh, brat?”

You just whimper, as he puts a leg between your thighs, and you’re rolling your hips against his foot, his shoe pressing on your clit. You’re whining and grinding as he fucks your mouth harder, grunting, precum salty and sweet coating your tongue. You’re soaking his pant leg, clit throbbing in need, while his cock slides so deep you’re choking on him.

“So desperate, huh, gonna grind on my leg like that? Slutty lil’ cunt soaking me? This what you do to me, fuck…” He’s muttering to himself more than anything, as you suck harder, the degrading words only making you wetter. You’re trembling and shaking when he pauses, throbbing. “Shit… you suck that good, got me fuckin mad ya ever sucked anyone.”

He yanks you back just a bit, looking at your reddened lips, plump and coated in your spit, your mouth is parted, gasping for a breath then, he’s pulling you back up now, pressing you against the counter, thigh between yours, you’re rolling your hips and whimpering as he shuts your mouth with his hand. He feels it, you soaking him, dying to taste you now.

“Keep it quiet, shit-”

Suddenly the door opens, and you two immediately part, Toji adjusting his cock and turning back to the fridge, trying to act busy as you cough just a bit, throwing back the beer when Megumi walks out. He yawns now, blinking bleary eyed at the two of you, as Toji tries to stop his precum from leaking out of his tip.

“Can you two keep it down, shit. Hey…” He turns to you now, as you put the beer in the trash. “Come get some pajamas on, you can sleep in my bed if you want.”

“Thank you, Gumi, good idea.” You snatch up pajamas that Megumi brings, a big shirt and a pair of his boxers, heading to the bathroom and resting your head on the door, shaking like crazy as you peel off your dress. Your thighs are a sticky mess, your damn throat hurts from his cock.

Your pussy is aching with need, you splash some cool water on your face, struggling to take several breaths as you eye yourself in the mirror. You lips are swollen from sucking him, eyes dilated and pupils blown the fuck out, your cheeks have taken on this color from how overheated they are. You struggle to compose yourself, wiping up the endless slick from your pussy.

What just happened?

You walk back out, seeing Megumi with a water bottle, smiling lazily at you, and you sigh, taking it and smiling, feeling so guilty. You just sucked his damn father, now you’re gonna act normal somehow? Toji is nowhere to be seen, so you try to just to push it out of your brain, even as you’re gulping down icy water and laying in Megumi’s bed.

“You don’t have to sleep on the floor, Gumi.” You say, he sighs now, climbing up and laying on the other side.

“Don’t take advantage of me, hmm? Look like you got dick on the brain.”

“Excuse me!?” You both burst into laughter, you shove him nearly off the bed as he’s chuckling.

“You and Yuuji need to stop the back and forth, you know he’s like a sad puppy when you all break up.”

“Ugh, I know.” You sigh, covering your face now, wishing you could get this annoying old man out of your head. “Dick on my brain, whatever.”

“Mmhmm. Night night.”

“G’night.” You turn on your side, thinking just what Toji is feeling, was it nothing but some girl with some crush to him?

You all literally say nothing to each other the next morning, and Mr. Fushiguro has went from somewhat quiet to completely shutting you out. His replies are grunts and grumbles, and he doesn’t say a damn word to you. For weeks, you haven’t even caught a glance, to the point you wonder if it was all some drunk ass dream.

Unable to handle it, you quit coming over, for weeks, in a way Toji is thankful he doesn’t have to constantly have a hard cock, constantly masturbate to you- well he does anyway, but- the memory of your throat is something he can’t stop. The memory of you so desperate you were grinding on him like that, how he almost had you right in the kitchen.

He fights all of it, glad you’re not there, trying to go back out, to forget you even exist, feeling so damn awkward as he talks to his kid about you, asking ever so casually where you are. Apparently you have some new boyfriend, and Toji doesn’t like the irrational feelings that brings him, so he’s even more thankful you’re not around.

Thinking of some college loser not even getting your pretty pussy off makes him furious, no one even deserves to touch you really, even him.

As Toji’s on a date, and they’re being seated, a rooftop restaurant this woman wants to go to, he spots you then. You’re giggling, hand over your mouth, as you show some boy something on your phone, and he’s laughing too. A boy your age, that’s how it should be, anyway.

Right?

You notice him then, how can someone not notice Toji, his gaze across your body, lingering against your breasts, pressed up and on display in the little dress you’re wearing. You see his hand go to his date’s thigh, so you lean closer to your date, whispering little nothings in his ear. His cheeks heat up as his own hand touches your thigh.

Like some sick game, you both trade looks, touches with your dates, all while the intensity builds, and surely your date must think he’s got the easiest girl around, he’s doing really nothing and can feel your heat as he touches your thigh. And surely Toji’s date is enjoying every touch and caress, as you watch his fingers trail down her shoulders, picturing them.

It’s suddenly all too much, you murmur a quick apology. “I have to go to the ladies room real quick.”

“No worries love.” He says with a smile, and you quickly go to the bathroom, splashing cool water on your face, on the back of your neck, exhaling and trying to compose yourself.

“Shit…” You grumble, then gasp as the door slams open, his tall imposing figure right in the bathroom, broad shoulders so big he barely fits the damn doorway. “It’s a ladies room, Mr. Fushiguro.”

“Stop looking at me like that.” He whispers, gripping your face tightly, you take a shaky breath, legs trembling as he’s too close, and your eyes flicker to his lips, glossy and full, making you ache to kiss him.

“Look at you like what?” You look at him under lashes, as he remember’s your damn demon mouth on him, and he turns you then, towering over you in the reflection of the mirror, tilting your chin to face it.

“Like that, see yourself? Fucked out face, begging to be filled.” You gasp when one hand is wrapping your throat, the other slipping up your dress, groaning in your ear as he hovers over you, finding your panties soaked.

“Mr. Fushiguro…”

“That lil boy toy gets you off, doll?” He asks softly, rolling his fingers under the waistband of your panties, as his other fingers squeeze your throat with the lightest pressure. Your eyes roll back, and he slips two fingers inside to the knuckle, stretching you so good you’re damn near sobbing. “Asked ya a question?”

“Does y-your girl… get you off? Suck dick like I do?” You ask in response, smiling at his scowl, as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, you hear the squelching wetness echoing in the bathroom, crying out and bucking your hips.

“Tired of that mouth, tired of you fucking with my head. Little demon brat.” He huffs, cock hard and thick against your back, dying to be inside you, feeling your sticky little walls gripping him, you’re damn near sobbing it feels so good, his huge hard body taking you over. “Look at yourself, huh? Pretty lil face, annoying the shit outta me.”

“Y-you annoy m-me.” He chuckles, as he guides your chin back.

“Open those eyes.” You do as he says, whimpering softly, while your cunt is drooling down to his rolled up dress sleeves, you feel every fucking ridge and callous against your walls, making you even wetter, your cheeks so flushed, your eyes so bright as he watches you. “You drive me nuts on purpose, don’t you brat?”

“Y-you don’t even w-want-” He yanks out his fingers, just as you’re about to cum, leaving you weak, as he literally lets you go, and you glare up at him, as he sucks you off his fingers, making your mouth drop open at how sensual it is.

“Goddamn, gotta taste that good!?” You can’t speak, not when he’s tilting your chin up again, leaning close. “Stop fucking with me, got it?”

“You’re such a dick.” He glares, and you glare right back, as he just walks the fuck out. “Ugh!”

Your jaw sets, stomping out a few moments after, seeing Toji acting so casual, hands gripping a stem of a glass of wine, still glistening from you, smirking at you, and you decide it then.

Two can play at his little game.

*****

You are bouncing around in your little damn cheerleading outfit, as you’re on the field, shaking your hips with your stupid fucking pom poms, all while Toji finally decides to come to Megumi’s football games. Megumi himself is curious why he keeps showing up, it’s not that Toji never came to them, it’s just he didn’t… very often. Usually working or something.

Well Toji takes heavy interest, as he’s got a new girl with him every game, you can practically feel his stupid smirk from across the field as he watches you, an arm wrapped around a pretty lady’s shoulders. So you decide, the best course of action is to slap a big good luck kiss right on Yuuji’s lips before the game, to the awws and oohs of the crowd.

It takes everything inside Toji not to grab you by your pig tails, drag you over and beat your bouncy ass. It takes everything not to smack that ass so hard you can’t walk anymore, especially as you turn away from a blushing Yuuji to smile meanly right back at Toji, seeing his glare.

You may or may not also bend over right in front of him, giving him a full view of thin lacy black panties when you should be wearing spandex shorts, making Toji so hard he physically hurts. It’s not your fault you dropped something, though! You smile innocently when you turn around, feigning surprise.

“Mr. Fushiguro, it’s so good to see you here.” You say brightly, smiling to the lady next to him then. “He’s such a good dad.”

Toji just glares as you wave, running back to the field to finish your routine, little do you know Toji has to leave in the middle of the game, so torn the fuck up from seeing you he can’t stand it. He’s again stroking his cock to his son’s bratty little fucking friend, cursing you the entire time, thinking he could make you stop if you saw him with other women.

But you are driving him more insane.

Megumi is out early for practice when you waltz right in later, wearing your pretty little maroon cheer outfit, the irony is it’s a letter fucking T on your pretty tits, as you peek around, noticing him. You both pause, it’s been damn near a month since you sucked him, and weeks since he fingered you, you’ve both kept your distance just enough.

“Shit, Megumi already left? My phone’s dead.” You frown at it now, sighing as Toji slowly walks up to you, shutting the door behind you and locking it with a click. You pause, breaths coming faster and faster as he looms over you, so big and intimidating and fucking sexy. You let out a whimper before you bite your trembling lip, and he cups your face with one hand.

“You’re playing with fire, y’know that brat? Fucking have no clue what you’re in for if you keep it up.” He juts your chin up roughly then, making your head fall back, you tremble then, biting at your lip harder. “Think I’m playing?”

“Think I’m scared of you? Think I’m some innocent kid? I’m not.” He chuckles gruffly, licking that scar, making it glisten as he tilts his head to the side, strong muscles flexing as he presses you further against the door.

“You ain’t done shit like I’d do to you, none of those lil’ boys could make you cum like me, split you in fucking two, fuck you stupid.” You gasp, his words going straight to your pussy, but you struggle to hide it.

“All talk, is what I think, maybe you’re too old to keep up with me.” You raise a brow with a little smile, when Toji grabs you by your throat, it turns into a full fucking grin.

“You psycho little brat, need a whole fuckin’ lesson, don’t ya?” He slams his lips on yours, and once he does, it’s over for both of you.

His tongue his sliding into your mouth, not teasing, no he’s fucking owning it, devouring it, as your hands slip up his chest, gripping his thin white shirt and his free hand slips down, yanking your cheer top down, one of your breasts spilling out. He moans as he pulls back, squeezing your throat harder, pulling you to him.

“Think I haven’t already sucked on these perky lil’ fuckin nipples?” You gasp then, earning his chuckle. “Sleeping in slutty ass tops, tits out.”

“D-did you… do more?” You whisper, hoarse as he’s choking you harder, and he smirks at you.

“No, freaky ass brat, what did you want me to touch you in your sleep?” You nod weakly, as he squeezes your windpipe even harder, until you’re a soaking wet fucking mess. “What’d ya want me to do?”

“Eat me out.” Your whisper ends him, he’s on his knees then, Toji Fushiguro, on his knees, as your heart hammers in your chest, and he shoves up that cheer skirt, licking you over your lacy panties, groaning as your slick hits his mouth, his tongue lapping the soppy mess out. “Ah!”

Your hands grip his inky hair, hiccuping and crying as he continues to lap at you with his hungry tongue, groaning against you, reducing your panties to nothing. “You’re such a little slut, wearing this? Want everyone to see this fucking pussy?”

“W-wanted y-you to…”

“Shit…” Toji takes your hands, putting them on your skirt then. “Hold this the fuck up, now.”

“Yes…”

“Yes what.”

“Yes… daddy- ah!” Toji groans, knowing he’s just a sick fuck for eating through your panties under your goddamn cheer skirt, knowing he’s old enough to be your damn dad almost, but he can’t stop himself now. Once he tastes you it’s fucking done for him, as you hold your skirt up, hooking a thigh over his shoulder and screaming out.

“Good fucking girl. Finally, listening huh?” You can’t function, dying for the barrier of your panties to leave, wriggling as he teases you relentlessly.

“Please!”

“Please what, doll?”

“Take em off, please… fucking please.”

“Hah…” He’s laughing, biting you over your panties, grinning up at the mess you already are. “Ya gonna cum from this? These boys so pathetic?”

“Mnh…” Is all you manage, and he moans, rubbing your damp and sticky fabric, finally peeling it off you, easing your thigh off him and pressing bites down it as he does.

“All sweet now, huh? Not being a slutty fuckin’ brat?”

“I need… need you… T-Toji…” He moans at how sweet you are when he laps you up between your puffy lips, groaning as you soak his mouth, your hands back to those thin inky locks, pulling as he swipes the flat of his tongue up your slit. “Ah! F-fuck!”

“Bad lil mouth, huh?” He smacks your pussy now, making it sting and throb, but you’re only more fucking wet, as he slaps it again, shoving two fingers up your hole and looking at you under sooty lashes, as his cock throbs in his sweats, precum making him sticky as you fall apart over him. “Nothin’ to say?”

“Fuck you… ah!” He smacks your pussy again, harder, wet slap echoing in the house as he stands now, picking you up like you’re nothing, throwing you over his shoulder as you squeak. “Let me down, f-fuck!”

Toji laughs, smacking your bare ass and making you squeak, before tossing you right on his bed, spreading your thighs and nudging right between them, spitting right on your pussy and grinning with white teeth glinting, slipping his two thick fingers through it. “Fuck, look at her, so soaked and I just am getting started.”

You blink in confusion, sure you’ve got experience, but just a few licks was better than anything you’ve felt. “I’m r-ready, though- mnh!”

“I ain’t even close to done with eating this pussy. Tastes so fucking yummy, demon pussy, demon mouth.” You’d laugh if he wasn’t slobbering all over your cunt again, making you quiver and moan, your hands grabbing fistfuls of his messy sheets, your toes curling, still in your fucking cheer sneakers.

“T-Toji, please-”

“You’re gonna get it, brat, until you’re beggin’ me to stop, until you can’t even move, can’t think. That what you've been wanting all this time, huh?” He asks, eyes alight with something dark and carnivorous.

“Y-yes, yes, I want it, I need it, I-ahh!”

You don’t have to ask again, because he’s already descending, stupidly tongue licking and fucking in and out of your soppy little hole, as you scream out at it, so close to cumming you can feel the pressure in your tummy. He can feel it, as he grips your hips, shoving that little pleated skirt up and drinking you, drowning in you, your body just twitching under his hold.

“That’s it, there you go, doll. Cum all over m’fuckin face.” He urges, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, so goddamn intense as he devours your pussy, your  eyes roll into the back of your head as he latches onto your little twitching clit, sucking hard, and your body arches up, your back bowing off the bed, as you shatter.

“Oh fuck, T-Toji m’gonna cum I - ah!” You’re sobbing out the jumble of words, your voice hoarse, your body shaking as he feasts on you, his stubble scraping your sensitive skin. He’s fucking humming on your clit, and you feel the orgasm wrecking you as your hips buck up to his face.

He’s moaning as you orgasm all over his face, juices fucking pouring, the sounds of him slurping them up are goddamn obscene, he’s drunk off you as he sips up every bit he can. His breaths are hot and heavy, and your thighs are clamping down around his head, already overstimulated and whining pathetically, but he’s just too fucking strong, and he’s not stopping.

“Again, doll, can your lil slutty pussy cum again f’me?” You weakly shake your head, and he chuckles up at you. “So cute, and we’re just getting started, don’t tap out now… where’s your school spirit?”

“Oh my god…” You wanna cuss him out, but you’re about to cum again as he shoves two thick fingers in, curling them and pressing that spongy spot in your messy, not sloppy fucking walls. “Too much!” You whine, his chuckle tickling your clit as he spreads your lips, watching it twitch.

“Talked all that shit, then can’t take a lil foreplay?” You’re sweating already, about to cum again, the tension in your body coils tighter and tighter until it snaps, and you’re screaming out his name, Toji. Your hips bucking against his face, your juices squirting out all over his mouth and chin, soaking the bed beneath you, and he’s just swallowing it all down, groaning with every drop.

You collapse back, breathless, sweat slicked, and your heart racing so fast you can feel it in your throat, and Toji sits back a bit,, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, looking at you with a smug grin, your pussy still quivering and pulsing around his thick digits as he is relentless in his fingering.

“Weak and fuckin pathetic, huh?”

“Ngh…” Is all you can manage, gasping as he keeps scissoring his fingers in and out of your cunt.

“That was just the fucking appetizer, doll.” And with that, he pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, his eyes never leaving yours, dilated and reflecting your desire when he leans over you finally.

“T-Toji… I….”

“You sure can’t run that bratty mouth no more, huh? I already fuck you stupid with just fingers?” You just whimper, he makes you pathetic, ripping your top off you now, groaning as he sees your tits right in his face, gripping them in his big hands, sucking right on your nipples, while you’re grinding eagerly, dying for his cock.

“Toji please, more…”

“Think you can handle this cock, doll?” You nod eagerly, and he grins, lifting you like you’re nothing, pausing at your skirt and moaning. “Think we’ll keep it on.”

Toji’s undressing eagerly, despite acting in control, he’s dying to slip inside you, soaking wet and eager, sliding three fingers in just to test you, and you gasp at the stretch, legs shaking while he curls them at the knuckles. “Ngh! Too… much…”

“Doll, need ya nice and ready.” He pulls them out now, shoving them in your mouth, making you soak yourself as he lines the thick tip of his cock against your folds, pressing into your entrance, you scream out at it, pussy clenching just his tip, making him hiss. “Fuck you’re so tight still, shit…”

“Please, fuck me please.”

“Begging so pretty, love you like this - ha- f-fuck!” Toji’s green eyes roll back in his own head as he sinks into your soaking wet pussy, stretching you just perfectly around him, cupping your face as he does. “Look at me, now.”

You struggle to focus your eyes as he fills you, shoving in one stroke so deep your nails dig in his back, nothing but your cheer skirt and sneakers on your body, something about that and your pigtails making Toji feral. He slams his cock deep inside you as your mouth is in a slutty O, whimpering at the burn, the stretch.

“Can’t take a dick like this, huh?” You shake your head weakly, and he wants to chuckle, to smirk, but he’s too pussy drunk now, as he fucks you harder, his bed creaking, headboard slamming on his fucking wall as he leans up. “Look at that… huh baby?”

You weakly look down, seeing your tummy bulge as he slows his movements, and you’re blushing, making Toji murmur how cute his cheerleader is, while he watches it slower and slower, groaning. His tip drags on some spot again, making your nails rake down his arms, leaving marks, and he moans, head falling low, sweat dripping from his brow against your lips.

“That’s it, fucking up your lil body, huh? Too fuckin big for you, ain’t I?” You weakly just nod, he has fucked your brains out, he’s smirking now. “Ready for real dick?”

“For what!? F-fuck!” Toji lifts a leg up now, slamming deep in your pussy, fucking wrecking you then, as you’re cumming all over his cock when he presses fully in, stuffing your little cunt so full you’re sobbing at it.

“There it is, feel her milkin’ me already, huh?” You’re dizzy, blacking out damn near even before he wraps a hand back on your throat. “Been driving me crazy for fucking years, y’know what you were doing, didn’t ya?

You nod weakly, tears in your eyes, gasping as you’re pulsing all around his thick veiny length, struggling as he stuffs you, balls deep. “T-too much, too much!”

“Nah doll, you can take it like a good girl, can’t you?” His words and his strokes fuck you up, you nod eagerly as he moans, fucking into you harder and deeper, before pulling out, watching you shake and laugh. “Hands and knees, doll.”

You eagerly obey, barely able to turn, he has to help you, pressing your head into his soft mattress as he fucks you so hard, the slapping and wet sounds filling his room with your muffled cries. You’re clinging to the sheets until he takes your hands, gripping them behind your back with one hand, delicate wrists squeezed while he pumps into your tight, eager pussy.

“Fuckin feel you, so goddamn perfect, made f’me huh?” You can’t speak, you just whimper, as he groans, yanking your head up by your hair, leaning over. “Asked ya a question doll.”

“M-made f-for you.” You whisper, he chuckles, kissing you sloppy before he lets you go, your head falling again, while he pounds inside your eager pussy, which swallows him in so pretty.

“Know how many times I… stroked it, fuck… know what you’ve done to me!? Think I’ll ever let this pussy go now?” He whispers, insane fucking things, maybe they should scare you, as he pounds you so hard you do feel split in two, but you’re just whining in pleasure as he hisses, your walls pulsing as you’re close again. “So fucking easy, huh?”

You can’t answer, you’re screaming into the sheets while he’s pounding you so hard, wrecking you for anyone, as he rambles - ‘that’s it, feel her’ - ‘no one’s ever fucked you like this, huh’ and ‘this is what you get, talking all that shit, hah- can’t fuckin’ speak now, huh?’

You’re a mess, drooling when he has you cumming again, only for him to flip you back on your back like you are some little doll to him, cupping your face and sucking in a breath for a moment. You have the marks of the bed on your pretty face, tears making your mascara trail, eyes fucked out. You have drool that he swipes, slowing then and huffing.

“Know how goddamn beautiful you are?” He whispers, so intimate and shocking for a moment, your breath catches, as he slows his strokes. “Know how you’re in all my dreams? Pretty, perfect, f-fuck…”

“Toji… y-you think…”

“I know.” You’re sobbing when he kisses you, when you’re clinging to him with numb hands from his brutal grip, and he slows just a bit, the kiss deepening. “God I’ve wanted you so long, doll, shit… like I’m dreaming.”

His words melt you, as you try to cling to any sense of reality anymore. “Oh, Toji…”

“Shh, stop making me sappy and shit, demon ass pussy here.” You breathless giggle, but it turns into a cry as you cling to him, hips rolling, when he’s getting close, and he’s cupping your face, you feel far too fucking much. “Where you want me to cum, doll, because I’m close, pussy gripping too good.”

“In me.”

“In you!?” You nod shyly, and he glares, narrowing green eyes as he tenses over you. “Anyone came in this pussy?” You shake your head nervously, earning his grin. “Perfect, gonna fill you first huh- want it all in you?”

You nod weakly, and he presses your thighs up, folding you in half, girthy cock and mean tip bullying your walls until he’s closer and closer, groaning. “Ngh!” You’re pathetically whining, he laughs.

“Beg for it, all this cum doll, been fucking waiting for this.”

“P-please- ah!” Toji loves how submissive you are despite you having been such a goddamn brat, pleased his cock has fucked your brains good enough you’re begging for it.

“Beg harder, doll.”

“Fucking please!”

“Please what, brat?”

“Daddy please!” Toji’s ended then, pouring hot spurts of cum so deep in your abused little hole, white ropes coating your fluttering walls as he damn near whimpers, falling heavy over you. You’re sobbing it feels so good, muscles throbbing and fluttering around his cock, pushing his cum and yours all down his cock. “Mnh!”

“That’s it, milk me like a good lil slut.” He huffs, easing back and shoving his cock in again, pressing kisses sweeter than his mean strokes down your neck. He exhales, fingers running down your skin as he feels you twitching under him. “Goddamn it, you’re such a brat, y’know? Until you get dick.”

“That w-was the cure.” He snorts now, shaking his head, leaning up with a breath, and cupping your face again, a thin sheen of sweat on your perfect skin, when he hears the door unlock, cursing.

“Shit…” You hastily cover yourself, as Toji struggles to right himself, hiding you under the blankets as Megumi walks in, sighing when he sees his best friend’s cheer top and likely her panties strewn along with his dad’s sweats.

“Really, you two?” He grumbles.

“Nothing happened, kid. Just… she’s…”

“Yeah, whatever.” He crosses his arms, leaning in the doorway as you peek out from under the covers. “We have a game? Get it together.”

He walks out and slams the door as you break into a breathless giggle, hastily getting up, only for Toji to shove you back down. You blink rapidly as he shoves two fingers in your sore pussy, making you hiss. “Toji what the fuck!?”

“Need you dripping me at the game, doll.”

A/N- Toji stuff is just my ABSOLUTE FILTH every fucking time, and I'm not sure I'm sorry about it lol. Reader and Toji both ain't shit, and poor Megumi LMAO. See you in the comments bbs hehe

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[swytdoll]

YOU SO CRAZY. . I THINK I WANNA HAVE YOUR BABY!

toji never wanted kids. the thought of a snotty-nosed, full-grown sperm running around made him cringe. he always saw kids as messy, loud, and a constant source of chaos—like a tornado with a juice box. but now, as your walls grip him like a vice, he can’t help but think, “one can’t hurt, right?”

his large calloused hands grip your soft thighs, watching your plush flesh spill through his fingers, he can barely control himself. continuous deep groans spilling from his throat in pure pleasure, hips snapping into you at an unforgiving pace as he watches his thick length disappear into your warm pussy.

"g'na make you a mommy-fuckin-shit-take it, princess, fuckin take it. gonna pump you full of my kids —make sure you keep it all in and have a fuckin' daycare-god! you feel so fuckin good-so good for me-you wanna have my kids? you want me to knock you up, yeah? gonna cum inside you-gonna make sure it stays in there and makes you round and pretty. fuck, i love you, god, i love you so much, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuucckk—!!

he spills into you, painting your walls white, cum thick and heavy, toji fucking zenin fills you completely. his thrusts hard and deep, ensuring none of his precious seed slips out. you can only sob, the thought of having a child with your husband, of giving him a family, a legacy, is enough to send you into overdrive, you cum, gushing around his cock.

when the two of you are finished, he pulls out and immediately shoves his fingers into you, making sure his cum is kept safe inside your womb. his thick digits pump and swirl in your used hole, and when he removes them, his thumb swipes over your pulsating clit, lips curling into a grin as you squirm under him.

he leans down, kissing you gently, palm flat on your belly.

"i hope the brat is a boy."

[paranoiddreams]

Ch.1 - Spare Tire

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tags/warnings — allusions to death, grief, overall really angsty, assassin!toji, Nobara was adopted by Nanami, Yuji lives with his grandpa and big brother!Sukuna, mamafushiguro is mentioned (not sure if I want to give her a specific name yet), Toji is depressed, Megumi asks a lot of questions, descriptions of murder and killing, one allusion to alcohol consumption, not a lot since this is the first chapter hehe, reader is very confusing and mysterious rn but her side of the story is coming next!

WC — 3.48 k

a/n — oh my god thank you all so so much for all of the support that this series is getting so far!! Chapter one hasn’t even come out yet (until now obviously) and so many people are excited for this series like I am! This chapter is pretty angsty, but we need to hurt before the comfort 🥹 It’s also more of Megumi and Toji but the next chapter will be reader’s POV! I want to make this a story with heavy plot lines, but also with fluff that makes up for the hurt. It’s also a pretty self indulgent series since it’s my first on here lol.

Nobara’s small fingers braid strands of Megumi’s jet-black hair as Yuji spins on the swing wildly next to them. His cherry blossom colored locks are already sticking up from the tiny braids Nobara attempted to put in his hair as well, but gave up after deeming it too short.

“Have you guys ever lost your parents?” Megumi asks as he kicks the rocks below his feet. The chains of the swing holding him up creak as he slowly sways, adding onto the usual ambiance of recess.

“What? Like in the store?” Nobara asks from behind him, still working on his loose braids with her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth.

“Mmm, maybe,” he mumbles, green eyes looking up into the cloudless sky as he thinks. “I didn’t get to ask.”

“Sukuna lost me in the mall once,” Yuji chimes in, his lisp slipping through when he says his brother’s name. “He told me that if I told my grandpa then he’d lose me on purpose next time!”

Nobara clicks her tongue, shaking her head disapprovingly. “You’re both stupid—my daddy always says that I have to stay by his side when we go somewhere because someone bad could try and take me.”

Megumi shakes his head slightly, wincing when Nobara’s fingers pull a strand of his hair roughly. “I was at the car shop with my dad and a woman gave me a quarter for the gumball machine,” he explains, “I got a blue one.”

“You took the quarter?!” She suddenly shrieks, as if he had just stepped on her toes.

“Yes,” he says blankly. “She asked where my dad was, and when I told her about Betty, she said that she lost her dad.” Megumi explains, trying to remember everything the woman said with all of his might.

Yuji’s gaze snaps away from a cloud he was ogling shaped like a duck, back to Megumi. “What?! She lost him?”

“Yeah,” the boy confirms.

A short silence falls over them as Nobara finishes with trying to drain Megumi’s hair, sitting on the third swing.

“Maybe he passed away,” She sighs solemnly. “My daddy’s mom died before he adopted me.”

Yuji gasps softly. “Yeah maybe!”

Megumi shakes his head. “No, I asked her that,” he says.

Nobara pulls one of the practice braids she weaved into his hair, an angry expression on her tiny face.

“Ouch! What was that for?!”

“Why would you ask someone that? How rude!”

Megumi looks down at his old beat up shoes, a wave of embarrassment heating his face. “She said he didn’t,” he mutters.

“Then what happened?”

Nobara and Yuji both look at him in search of an explanation; but Megumi looks as if he’s searching for one as well.

“I don’t know,” he says, “we left before she told me.”

Megumi had spent the rest of the day thinking about the woman and what she could’ve possibly meant. He knew what loss was—the concept of death wasn’t lost on him. But how else could someone lose someone else?

He even asked his dad when they got home, but he was only met with an “I don’t know kid,” before he watched him disappear into the garage to work on the car.

“Maybe you can help her find him,” Yuji’s enthusiastic voice makes Megumi wince slightly.

“Maybe my dad can,” he theorizes, looking up in thought, “he said he finds people sometimes for his job…”

…

Toji’s nail beds are caked with blood and dirt, as well as the material of his sweats.

“Damn it, fuck!” He hisses under his breath. He just washed them, the memory of the journey to the laundromat still present in his mind; Megumi’s stubborn attitude, the long wait, and the stares from concerned mothers and old men.

He’s only snapped out of his temporary agitation when he hears the sound of a blaring train horn in the distance—it’s nearly sunset, which is how he knows that he’s taken way too much time on this job.

As Toji walks to the back of the abandoned building where he parked, he unstraps all of his knives and guns from his body. He opens the passenger door before throwing them inside, right under the loose floorboard. His gaze drifts to the back before closing the door, spotting Megumi’s car seat still strapped into the seat. With a sigh, he slams the passenger door closed and gets into the driver’s side, speeding off before anyone could catch sight of him.

The radio in his car doesn’t work, so the drive home is quiet, as usual. It hasn’t worked for the past 5 years, but Toji’s just never gotten around to replacing it. So he’s gotten used to the silence during morning drives to Megumi’s school, or the ride back from a bloody job worth a few weeks of food on the table.

He was never much of a music guy anyways, and funnily enough, Megumi never was either.

When Toji pulls into the driveway of his house that’s never truly felt like a home, he sighs in relief knowing that Megumi is back from school. But before he opens the front door, he takes a deep breath, ready for a usual evening home. When he does walk in though, it’s just as silent as it was outside.

“Megumi,” Toji calls out, dropping his car keys onto the kitchen table. He spots papers of math equations and grammar practice filled out next to a glass of juice in his usual spot.

“I’m home,” Toji calls out again. He steps into the hallway, the sound of his steel-toed boots echoing loudly against the tile. When he’s only met with silence again, he turns his head to look down the hall towards his son’s bedroom, beams of his yellow night light pouring through his slightly ajar door. He slowly walks over to peek his head in. But all he finds is Megumi fast asleep in his bed, his Spider-Man blanket wrapped around his little body. He’s still wearing his shoes, and his hand is dangling off the end of the mattress, but he looks just as comfortable as ever; like a grown man who’s passed out after a few too many beers. A bit of drool drips from the side of his mouth, onto the pillow under his head. His black hair is a mess around his face.

Toji doesn’t know how he could’ve created something so…small and innocent. He isn’t sure how so much good came from him. But then he catches his son in moments like these, when he’s asleep, or playing outside with his friends, and remembers that beautiful face he’s tried to forget for so long.

Some days, Toji can’t even look at him without seeing her.

…

Megumi wakes up to the sound of his dad’s heavy work boots clomping around in and out of the open garage. He rubs his eyes with his small hand before hopping out of bed and waddling sleepily out of his room.

“Daddy?” He calls out into the empty hall.

Toji peeks around the corner, coming out of the garage. “Get dressed kid,” he says, “we’re going back to the car shop.”

Megumi pulls his hand away from his droopy eyes and looks up at his dad. He looks tired, and if he had to guess, that could only mean he spent the night sitting on the back porch drinking his ‘grown-up juice’.

“Betty’s broken again?” He asks.

“Nah, we just need a spare tire.”

The little boy cocks his head to the side, emerald eyes trained on his father to try and decipher the meaning behind his words.

“Just go get dressed and we can get breakfast after, yeah?”

A rare smile creeps onto Megumi’s face and he nods his head adamantly, his messy locks falling over his eyes. He turns around and speeds down the hall towards his room, his tiny feet pattering against the tile.

Toji warms up the car as he waits for Megumi to get dressed, the garage door wide open. He hears two distant voices across the street, and when he looks up he spots the familiar blonde business man he’s lived in front of for 3 years now. His daughter, Nobara, is tugging on his coat while rambling on about something that Toji can’t make out from where he is.

Nanami’s wife walks out behind them a moment later after locking the front door. She skips over to him and kisses his cheek before picking Nobara up and putting her into the backseat of their car. The little girl’s laughter echoes through the neighborhood, along with the chirps of morning birds singing, and Toji finds himself slightly annoyed.

Does the world have to be so sunny and beautiful while he goes on feeling like he’s stuck? Did the world have to keep spinning after his crumbled right in front of him?

Nanami’s car pulls out of the driveway, the happy family waving at Toji from inside as they drive away down the road. He lets out a low sigh and unlocks his own car, just as the garage door opens.

“I’m ready,” Megumi says when he walks out in a shirt and shorts he put on quickly.

Toji helps him into the back of the car, making sure he’s strapped into his car seat tightly before getting into the driver’s seat himself. He pulls out of the driveway and into the morning sun, immediately putting his visor down to block his rusty green eyes from the rays.

“Daddy, do you remember that lady that was at the car place last time?” Megumi asks as they drive onto the main roads.

Toji’s eyes flicker up to the rear view mirror for a moment to look at his son before the face of the woman his son is referring to pops back up into his mind. He hadn’t given her a thought since that night a few days ago, when Megumi asked him about something the woman told him. But he can barely even remember what that something was since he seldom comes up for air when he drowns himself in work.

“I do,” Toji answers Megumi after a few moments of reminiscing about the woman. He faintly remembers the name y/n attached to the image of her face in his mind. “What about her, kid?”

Megumi looks out the window as he speaks to his father, watching as the traffic lights turn green and red. “I told Nobara and Yuji about how her dad was missing,” he says. “They said that I should ask you to find him for her.”

Toji’s eyes fly back up to the rear view mirror, his scarred lip twitching slightly. “What?”

“I told them that you find people for your job sometimes,” Megumi confirms, “so they said you should find that lady’s dad.”

A soft sigh fills the car, Toji running his fingers through his hair. His face is one of a father’s whose child just asked him what death is. His face carried the same expression when a 4 year old Megumi first asked him what he did for a living to put food on the table and buy his favorite animal crackers.

Toji just didn’t have the heart to tell him what he’s really doing when he’s not home. He doesn’t have it in him to look Megumi in the eyes and tell him that he kills people he only knows the names of for a couple grand.

So, he told him the least monstrous part of his profession.

“I find people.”

It was a meek response compared to the reality of things. He wishes he would have prepared more, maybe before he took the job, just so he had an answer for what he does. And maybe why. But he stopped looking for those answers a long time ago.

“I can’t just find y/n’s dad, it doesn’t work like that,” Toji says after a long pause. He doesn’t even realize the woman’s name slipped from his lips until he hears Megumi softly repeating it to himself in the back.

“Why not?” He asks, expression blank, as if the answer was owed to him.

Toji clears his throat. “Because, it just doesn’t, Megumi. Mr. Shiu gives me my…clients.”

Megumi’s ears perk at the familiar name of his father’s boss. Couldn’t his dad just save the day for once?

“Then can’t you ask Mr. Shiu to talk to her?”

Megumi just wishes that he could say anything but, “My dad finds people,” when it’s his turn to share in class. Because then, when he only manages to get confused looks in return, they ask about his mom. And he’s not sure what to say about her either.

“Can’t, kid. I only know her first name.”

Toji’s not sure why he’s even saying this; even if he did happen to know y/n’s last name he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. Not even mentioning the fact that people who don’t want to be found will not be found.

“Besides,” he adds on as he pulls into the parking lot of the car shop, “she probably doesn’t want to find him.”

Megumi’s confusion only grows.

“Daddy, why? He’s her dad.”

Toji’s hit, yet again, with another question he doesn’t know how to answer without wanting to smoke a cigarette. He turns his head to look over his shoulder at the all too curious seven year old.

“Well, she’s not a kid anymore, so there’s probably a reason she doesn’t know where he is. Some people just don’t talk to their parents after a while,” he explains slowly. “I don’t.”

Megumi’s eyes widen with realization before he looks out of the car window, the sun just starting to fully rise into the sky. His little face scrunches in thought before he looks back at Toji.

“Will I talk to you when I’m older, daddy?”

A moment of silence passes through the car, sending a chill down both of their spines. The answer Megumi is looking for is one Toji is afraid to even consider.

…

The glass door of the car shop swings open, a small bell chiming as Megumi scuttles in with Toji trailing behind him. He goes immediately to the front counter to talk to a bald man with glasses, the owner of the shop, about the spare tire for Betty.

Megumi takes it upon himself to wander away as soon as the words the two men are exchanging turn into a jumble of adult words. He looks immediately for the two rusty gumball machines near the front window; and to his immense surprise, there’s already a figure standing in front of one.

He dashes towards the machines, turning his head up to look at the figure’s face. And just as he suspected, there she is.

“Oh,” it comes out almost as a question, “the gumball police are back.”

“You’re back,” Megumi retorts, pointing a small finger up at her, “y/n.”

She smiles softly, putting a hand in her pocket. “You remembered? Smart kid.”

He smiles ever so slightly, deciding to leave out the fact that his dad is the one who remembered and reminded him in the car during their conversation.

“I told my dad to find your dad,” Megumi says, tilting his head slightly as he looks up at y/n. “He said that there’s probably a reason you don’t know where he is though—because you’re not a kid, or something.”

Y/n lets out a soft laugh, a little taken aback at how much this kid remembers about their encounter just a few days ago.

“Your dad’s right, there is a reason. There’s a lot of them, actually,” she says, not really knowing why she’s explaining this to a kid. Y/n has always been a brutally honest person, but she’s never met anyone bold enough to actually match it; but now, this kid she bribed with a quarter one time knows about one of her tightly sealed secrets.

“Megumi, what did I say about running off—“

Toji, just like their last trip to the car shop, interrupts a conversation between his son and y/n, the woman who ‘can’t find her dad’.

“You again,” he boasts, as if he’d expected this, “y/n.”

“Toji,” she counters, his name falling from her lips with ease. “It is me, again.”

“You come to this shop often? Or should I be worried about you stalking me?”

Megumi looks up at his dad, a little hand tugging on his pants. He wants to ask if his dad really thinks y/n is stalking them, but when he sees his scarred lip curl into a smile, something he hasn’t seen in a while, he has his answer.

“Yeah, I’m stalking an old man and his kid,” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. The same subtle smirk that Toji has on his face settles on her’s as well.

“Old man? I really wouldn’t expect a girl who’s barely an adult to determine if I’m old or not,” Toji says.

Y/n’s smirk turns into a soft smile as she shakes her head. “I can assure you, I am an adult,” she says, looking into Toji’s eyes, “and a woman, not a girl.”

He only raises a brow in response, feeling a burning sensation in his chest as she quickly snaps back at him with the same passive aggressive tone as him. By now, most women would be scoffing and walking away.

“Megumi,” Toji looks down at the now scowling boy; his conversation was yet again interrupted by his dad and he is not happy about it. “Take this,” he says before reaching into his pocket to get a quarter, “and get a gumball while I get the spare tire for Betty and put it in the trunk.”

Megumi looks up at his dad for a moment, before turning to put the quarter into the gumball machine. As he turns the metal knob he hears his dad, and y/n, walk over to the counter of the car shop.

“What a coincidence this is,” Toji says once they’re far enough away from his son, in front of the counter where he was just speaking to the owner; the bald man is still in the back of the shop looking for his tire size. “Makes me think I should ask for your number.”

Y/n mirrors Toji’s stance, huffing out a soft laugh. “Really? What exactly makes you think you need my number?”

“Because,” he says in the same unconvinced tone as her, “I’ve lived here for a while now and I’ve never seen you around.”

He says this with some truth mixed in with his sarcasm; he feels as if he’s met nearly everyone in this small part of town, and never once has he seen this woman. But now he’s run into her again, and in the same place no less. He also knows that if she even has a car, it’s not here; only his, and the owner’s are parked out front.

“But,” he continues, “this is the second time this week we’ve met.”

“Via your son,” y/n adds.

“Yes, the brat,” Toji huffs. “He’s always running off…”

“Well, if you must know,” she sighs after a moment, “I grew up here. I’m back again.”

The man’s eyes run up and down her face, searching for any sign of dishonesty; after being in his profession for as long as he has, he’s adopted the ability to tell when someone is telling the truth, or maybe only half of it. Because humans are predictable. The people around him are all the same, morally weak, copies of one another.

But Toji can tell that y/n is telling the truth—she’s not like the people he’s used to being around, she’s unlike anyone he’s met, which he believes he could bet a lot of money on despite this only being their second conversation.

Although, he can also tell there’s something that she isn’t telling him.

The two are suddenly interrupted when the sound of the owner’s heavy boots interrupt them as he returns from the back of the shop. He lays the spare tire Toji requested onto the counter, a sleazy smirk on his face as he looks between him and y/n.

Toji huffs and stares the grimey man down as he grabs the tire, before turning his head to look at her again.

“Well, y/n,” he says with a softer expression than before. “It was nice to see you—again.”

He then turns around to walk away from her, prepared to call for Megumi, who’s now tapping impatiently on the glass bowl of the gumball machine. But he stops when he hears a soft giggle followed by y/n’s voice:

“Gonna give up on my number that easily?”

Toji turns around with an incredulous smile on his face and feels something inside of him come back to life after being dead and gone what feels like centuries.

♡🏷️: @palmtreepanik0 @nina-from-317 @your-mum3000 @dahwcwb @weeezeerrss @just-lilita @averyjadedemerald @pinkhoneydrop @gina239 @tojisrealwifey @teacuup @cor-asomatum @newcina @deathrye @yoymii @evilari111 @sonakshrs @gradmacoco @edgyficuselastica @yourgirljasmine5 @Ivrndkoo @kaiparkerwifes @evilari111 @sonakshrs @llamatravel @ourfinalisation @aiahmwah @xoxoblueyy @1lastair @lavenderdaydream97 @imnotlurkingherepls @idkccdfnfz @amortsukii-writes @totallygyomeiswife @vehuzzzz @tinytinalifes @youngwizardfox if I forgot anyone I apologize!! Please let me know if you want to be on the permanent tag list in the comments below!

[ayumigotabittoolonely]

HELP WHAT IS THAT?

Synopsis- you brought an abandoned pet In your house but...they have some good reactions definitely good..

VERY UNLOGICAL AND UNSCIENTIFIC

Characters - toji , sukuna, nanami

Others

Inspired by @muchosbesitos

Toji fushiguro

Ryomen sukuna

Nanami kento

[nochepsicodelica]

Suggestive

"Baby, I have to gooo," you whine, groaning irritatedly when the iron hold of Toji's arms doesn't loosen around your waist. "Lance is gonna be pissed if i'm late for another job."

"Mm..." he hums, his lips detaching from the fresh mark he just left on your neck. "We could be leaving together, partnered up and all," he murmurs, gently brushing his lips over the plethora of visible kisses, "but you won't leave that damn agency. Shiu's better at finding jobs that pay you tons to basically shoot at practice dummies."

You sigh. This is the discussion you and Toji have practically every other day. He always waits until you're almost leaving to bring it up, too.

"You know I owe a lot to the guy, Toji. He swooped in when I needed help—when I was on my own and couldn't ground myself. He treated me like I was family—like I was his own kid. I can't just turn my back on him like that."

"I know, ma, and trust me, I get that. I completely understand, where you're coming from. We've got similar stories in that aspect, 'cause I feel like I owe Shiu a lot, too. But what are you gonna do when someone puts a hit on me, and your handler offers you so much money that you can retire as soon as i'm down?"

You bring two fingers and your thumb up, shaping them into a gun, make a cocking sound and press your fingertips to his forehead. "Bang!"

Toji rolls his eyes, but his amused chuckle is what brings a smile to your face. "Yeah? You'd take the job and shoot me dead?" He asks.

"As if you'd get shot down so easily. Nah, someone else can struggle with that," you say, lowering your "gun" with a teasing grin.

"And if it had to be you?" He asks, leaning in to bury his face in the comfort of the crook of your neck, again. "Would you let me get away?"

You hum, enjoying the softness of his returning affection to the skin beneath the collar of your lowered turtleneck. "Yeah, I'd let you get away," you confirm. "I'd probably..." you cut yourself off with a giggle, a sound that has Toji grinning against your skin. "...probably turn around and text you to see what you want for dinner, and see if you're tryna pork later on." Your laugh returns when you feel the puff of air that comes with his chuckle, against your neck.

"You got a dirty mouth, doll," he murmurs, loosening his hold on you and letting his hands wander over your torso. "Fucking love it."

"Hey," you say, your tone a soft warning when he starts tugging at your shirt, trying to untuck it from your cargos. "I have to go, so pump the brakes for now, and we can go at it like rabbits later on—if you still want to. Okay?" You ask, rubbing his chest.

"Fine," Toji grumbles. He fixes the collar of your turtleneck and veils the evidence of his morning affection. "If I want to," he mutters, scoffing as if it's an unbelievable thing to say. "You're good," he says, referring to the tidiness of your outfit.

"Cool, but now I'm curious to know what you would do if Shiu told you to hunt me down."

He hums, a mischievous smirk formed on his scarred lips. He mimics the gun you made with your hand, but instead of pressing his fingertips to your forehead, he puts them beneath your jaw. He makes the same cocking sound and... "Bang!"

It's your turn to roll your eyes and laugh. "Nice. Real nice," you say, amusedly.

"Right?" He says, with a smug grin. He uses the position of his fingers to tilt your head up more and presses a single, slow and savored kiss to your lips, luring giddy giggles from you and a smile onto his face. "Nah, someone else can struggle with that." He retracts his "gun" from your jaw and rests his hand on your thigh.

"Wish we would've met under difference circumstances—you being one of Shiu's new hires if it was destined to be through this field—but I'm not gonna bitch about it when I got to meet you at all." There's a sincerity in his expression, a gleam in his eyes that you see when he's using his heart to communicate.

"Aww, Toji! You're such a sweeeetheart," you coo, your smile beaming as you pinch his cheeks. He groans, but still does absolutely nothing to stop you. "My big, buff, handsome man is such a softie," you say, squealing with joy.

While Toji can act like this is the most ridiculous thing ever—you cooing and peppering kisses all over his face—but that gleam in his eyes has not gone away. So when you sigh and say, "Well, I'm officially late, again. I actually have to go, now." He's miserable and can't do anything about it.

"Call you later?" You say, getting off his lap and fixing your clothes.

"'Course, ma. Did you double check your duffel?"

"Uh-huh. Everything is in there and everything is functional," you assure.

"Sounds good." He doesn't lie back down yet. There's still two more things you need to do and he'll be damned if he doesn't get them from you.

You smile as you lean in to peck his lips, transferring some of your sweet lip balm onto his lips. One.

"Love you. I'll see you later." Two.

"Love you, doll."

As soon as you turn your back, Toji's swiping his tongue over his lips, trying to grasp the remnants of your kiss. Green eyes stick to your figure as you turn around and grab your duffel bag and phone. Phone in your pocket, keys in your pocket, duffel strap crossed over your torso, shoes near the front door—good to go.

"You look hot," Toji calls, after you, his usual smirk already raising his scar.

"Bye, Toji," you say, through a laugh.

[kashverse]

HEY!! just wanted to say i am SO inlove with your writing!! could i request something with toji?? 👀👀 like toji with a wife who LOVES plants, and even have matching tattoos? 💋 mwah i appreciate youu !

toji fushiguro is a lot of things—dangerous, feared, and borderline feral when it comes to money—but absolutely shit in love with you takes the top spot on the list. the kind of love where he’d kill for you (already does), die for you (willingly), and most importantly, water your plants when you’re not home because he knows how much they mean to you. because you? you are a plant gal.

it started as a hobby—something to fill the quiet moments, something that gave back just as much love as you poured into it. but then you got invested. suddenly, you knew which plants thrived indoors, which wouldn’t murder your air quality, which were safe for megumi (and his growing collection of questionable hobbies). and of course, you had an aloe vera. because no household, no matter how chaotic, could survive without an aloe vera.

toji still remembers the first time he really noticed it. you had been standing next to one of your flowering plants, humming softly as you misted its leaves. and he swears—swears—that damn flower bloomed even more just because you were next to it, like you were the fucking sun incarnate. it was the dumbest, most lovesick thought he’s ever had, and it hasn’t left him since.

but on top of all that, there was one other thing that made his chest swell with that ridiculous, head-over-heels, fully-done-for kind of love.

the matching tattoos. a silent, permanent mark of something only the two of you knew.

sometimes, people asked about them—little nosy shits who saw the ink peeking out from his sleeve or traced along your skin when they caught a glimpse. and every time, without fail, both of you would just exchange a look. a knowing, secretive little smile passing between you.

because it was yours.

toji loved that. loved that while the rest of the world only saw what you both allowed them to see, there were things—big, small, etched into your very skin—that belonged only to you and him. and yeah, sure, you didn’t react nearly as intensely as he did when he looked at you, all bright-eyed and head full of flowers and tattoos and love. but toji knew. 

even if you didn’t say it, even if you didn’t make a big show of it like he did, he knew. 

because, at the end of the day, your plants weren’t the only thing that bloomed under your care.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐲

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 2] Lunch

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Story Warnings: Arranged Marriage, Enemies to Lovers, Heavy Angst, Attempted Murder, Murder, Smut, Eventual Fluff and Romance

*I completely forgot that i was cross posting, forgive me!! For all of those that asked, there's no edits! It's the same as AO3!

The interview goes well– at least you think it goes well, and then you wait for the reporter and photographer to go back home. There isn’t much to talk about since your father isn’t exactly the happiest about the man you’re engaged to, and he doesn’t want to let Naobito have a piece of his mind. You say your awkward farewells before leaving the house.

Your father doesn’t shut up once he gets into the car, he rants the whole way home and you tune him out. You just can’t wait to see your daughter. Every now and then you catch a bit of what he’s saying.

“That motherfucker really fucking screwed me over. We had agreed on that other nephew of his not on that piece of shit, good-for-nothing man.” It is around the fifth time your father says those similar words, and your stepmother is annoyed.

“What the fuck did you expect? Your daughter literally has a creature that most men don’t want to deal with! Suck it up!” She raises her voice.

“Who doesn’t want to deal with Misaki? She’s an angel brought from heaven!” Your father claims, the soft spot his heart has for your daughter is very visible. But he will still choose his wife over his granddaughter, the same way he chose his wife over his daughter.

“Angel brought from heaven.” Your stepmother scoffs. She’s grateful that the Zenins will soon take you off her hands. “Naobito informed me that the wedding is set to be in a month or so. The wedding planning has begun.”

“In a month? Did he not think to inform me, considering I am the bride.” You speak up, causing a laugh to come from her. You don’t find the humor in it.

“Inform you? He told me which is more than enough. I told you the news, so it isn’t coming up to you as unexpected.” She replies. You open your mouth to speak but she interrupts you, “This isn’t a marriage that’s made of love. If you fall in love with him, then good for you but at the moment it’s not about that. It’s to clean their image and to get you and your daughter off our hands. The wedding is not going to be to your liking but to theirs.”

“You don’t have to say it like that.” Your father tells her, but you can agree with her on something.

“She’s right. That’s the only reason you’re doing it, or else why are you marrying me off to a complete stranger?” You say.

“Because it’s what’s best for you and Misaki. You saw what happened with Misaki’s father, didn’t you? He left even though you have a daughter together. He claimed he loved you, didn’t he? But you still came back to my door with your daughter because you couldn’t pay the bills.” He begins and you want to interrupt him, but you let him ramble on as you roll your eyes at his every word. “My point is, I think marrying for love is pointless unless you both have money. I’m setting up your daughter to have a successful life, even if it costs your happiness. Love didn’t bring you anything good anyways.”

“I-” You try to think of a way to defend yourself, but it’s not worth it in the end. You mutter it though, “I was just unlucky.”

“As I was saying…” Your stepmother continues talking, “The wedding will be as they envision it. The only thing that will be adjusted to you will be your gown size, which will be in fact next week.”

“How big is this wedding supposed to be? A month isn’t a lot of time to organize a big wedding.” You ask, wondering how many eyes will be on you in a month.

“Really big. Every person imaginable will be there.” She answers. “As to wedding preparations, you don’t have to worry because you’re not doing it. The Zenins have hired people that are more than capable and work fast.”

You just stay quiet and close your eyes. Maybe this is all a dream– More like a nightmare. Maybe when you open your eyes back up you’ll go back to when you were five, when life was good. When you could go running back to your mother and give her a hug and she’d fill your face with kisses until you begged her to stop.

But you open your eyes back up, and the only thing you see is your father’s house, which looks as horrid as ever with the lack of color. You remember once upon a time that the outside was filled with a mix of beautiful colors, now it's colorless. The flowers that your mom once planted are gone; they have been for a long time.

You’re the first to get out of the car, and walk to the front door. You knock since you have no keys. Soon enough the door opens and you see the babysitter that your father hired. She lives in the neighborhood and is roughly sixteen years old.

“Hello, Utahime.” You greet her and she greets you back. “Did she behave?”

“She was a sweetheart.” She answers. You walk into the home, and as the little girl notices she drops her doll and runs to your side.

“Mommy!” She yells as she runs to your side. You kneel down to receive the hug that she so warmly welcomes you with. You kiss her cheek. She’s quick to ask, “How was lunch?”

“It was- good!” You tell her. She’s too young to know or even understand what’s going on. She made a fuss before you left and you assured her that you’d be back soon, that you were only having lunch with friends. “Nothing too interesting, how about you, baby? How did you like your time with Utahime?”

“It was good!” She replies. Your father and stepmother walk through the door and your daughter rushes to greet your father. She receives the same treatment you do from your stepmother, so she rightfully doesn’t like the woman. You get off the ground, and go upstairs to get Utahime’s money.

You quickly go back downstairs with the money and give it to Utahime. She thanks you and gets her stuff. She says her goodbyes before walking out the door.

Once the door closes, your stepmother opens her mouth. She looks down at Misaki. “You’ll be having a dad soon.”

“What?” Your daughter asks, blinking at the very much older woman, very confused. “What does that mean?”

You glare at the woman. Maybe you’re looking more forward to this wedding day than you first thought. You’ll even prepare a speech of all the things you want to tell her.

“Is daddy coming back?” Your daughter questions, hope in her voice which makes you want to break down crying. It hurts to crush her illusion.

“No, Misaki, you’re getting a new daddy.” Your stepmother responds. Your daughter’s hopes are not the same, but she’s not crushed. She doesn’t remember her father that much so she’s not scared of someone replacing him.

“Misaki, do you want to watch a movie with me?” You ask, switching the topic. She nods and walks to your side.

“Wake up, you two.” You hear a not so nice voice that slowly causes you to open your eyes. You look at the woman you despise more than anything in this world, and your day is already ruined. You know it’s not going to be a good day.

You caress your daughter’s cheek since she’s always hard to wake up in the morning. She groans but she eventually opens her eyes. The woman still stands in your room. It’s a rare sight to have her wake you up.

“What?” You ask, wondering what she wants. She never needs anything from you which is why you never spoke. She has people to cook or clean for her since your father is more than blessed to have the money for. Otherwise, you would be the one to be doing those chores. She wouldn’t be with him in the first place if he had no money.

You’re not the same little girl that she could torment so there’s no point in being in your room, more or less speaking with you.

“You have lunch with Toji today. Misaki is coming with, and there’s a couple of hidden paparazzi’s so make sure to look decent.” She informs you. You sigh as you get up from bed. “Be ready in two hours.”

You get up from bed and let the child rest for a couple more minutes while you begin the process of getting yourself ready. You first take a shower, and when you come back out you see your daughter still sleeping.

You wake her up again, and she gets up looking around confused. You want to smile. She’s your literal clone, she just has a couple miniscule features that are like her dad’s.

“We’re going out to lunch, baby.” You inform her. You walk back to the bathroom to fill the bathtub up with water for your daughter. You walk back to the room, and she’s still really tired. She wants to lay back down but you try to get her excited to go out. “We can get ice cream after lunch.”

“Really?” She asks, practically sold. She’s now fully awake and she gets out of the bed. She walks out of the room and into the bathroom. You walk in as well, while she does her business you shut off the faucet that is ruining water.

“Are we going to meet my new daddy?” She asks, which catches you off guard. You’re not sure how to respond.

“I-” You begin, but can’t find the right words. “He’s not your new daddy, honey, but we will be seeing him a lot more, soon.”

“Okay!” She responds as she gets up to wash her hands. You want to chuckle, thinking about how easy that was.

You get to the restaurant, and your father and stepmother decide to sit a couple of tables over. You sigh watching them be led by the hostess to their seat. You don’t get too much time to stare at them, soon enough you’re being led to the table your future husband is sitting at. 

You notice the infant that is sitting in a high chair, right next to his dad. There’s a genuine smile on Toji’s face as he feeds the baby some of the baby food. The baby isn’t too pleased with the food, you notice as his nose scrunches up, and half the food is practically down his chin.

The smile on Toji’s face disappears as he sees you and the little girl that is holding on to your hand. You make your daughter sit down before sitting down next to her. You and Toji exchange looks, his being nastier than yours. But he remembers there’s supposedly people around that are watching.

“This is my daughter, Misaki.” You introduce the little girl who is shy when meeting new people. She warms up easily, but Toji just has an intimidating look.

“Hi!” She surprisingly says, waving at the man. He’s not the kindest, but he has some manners. He reminds himself that your daughter is not you.

“Hi, I’m Toji.” He waves back. Toji then goes back to paying attention to Megumi. He tries to give the baby more food but he just flat out refuses to open his mouth. Toji sighs and puts the food back into the food. He looks back at you two, looking more at your daughter so his dislike towards you doesn’t seem as evident. “This is my son, Megumi.”

“Megumi’s a cute name. One of my baby dolls is named Megumi.” She is quick to inform him. She warmed up fast. He raises his eyebrow and continues the conversation with the child.

"Really? That's nice." Toji says. The waitress comes up to the table and you order your drinks. You watch the baby and can’t help but help but smile at the baby's adorable face.

“He’s so cute.” You comment and Toji hums in agreement. 

Toji taps his fingers on the table, everything a bit too awkward. He just doesn’t understand why he feels this way. Annoyed. You haven’t really done anything, and you seem like a decent enough human being but he feels frustrated and mad when he just so happens to look at you.

He just needed you to refuse that proposal, and make the Zenins clean up Toji’s image some other way. But getting married again so quickly– It is an easy plan, he admits, but he prefers a harder one because he learned that matrimony is a sacred thing.

He doesn’t want to get married again. More or less, with someone he’s not in love with. Since he’s not getting what he wants because of you, the negative feelings take over.

“How old are you?” His eyes are on your daughter. She puts five fingers up, a smile on her face as she tells him verbally.

“Five!” She tells him.

“Are you in school?” He continues questioning, wanting to know more about his future stepdaughter because the wedding is going to happen whether he likes it or not. Unless something happens.

He fights back a smirk as an idea comes to mind. The Zenins can’t throw him in the streets if something were to just happen to you.

“Mommy put me in preschool. I’ll be starting kindergarten soon!” She excitedly responds.

The waitress comes back with your drinks. Misaki and Toji continue to chat while you watch baby Megumi, who took a liking to the spoon. He wasn’t slapping it on the high chair, something your daughter would’ve done at his age, but he inspects it. He puts his little chubby fingers on it.

And as you hear your daughter speak with Toji, and watch as the adorable baby inspects his spoon, you think that things won’t be so bad.

[mononijikayu]

hugs and kisses — fushiguro toji and nanami kento.

After all that you’ve been through before him, he has put you through the edge again. And when something breaks that badly, you can’t always put it back the same way. He knows that. He knows he’s the reason you’re different now, that you love him in a way that doesn’t burn like it used to. So, he swallows the bitterness that rises in his throat.  He doesn’t have the right to it. He doesn’t have the right to let it out. He doesn’t ask for more. He doesn’t have the right to. He doesn’t ask you to stay a little longer. He doesn’t ask if you still mean it when you say I love you. Because the truth is, he’s scared of the answer.He’s scared you wouldn’t be his accomplice anymore.

GENRE: alternate universe - actor/s au!;

WARNING/S: afab! reader, nsfw, r-18, explicit smut, sexual intercourse, making out, scratching, kissing, rough sex, p-i-v sex, creampie, angst, hurt/comfort, pet names (babe, good girl, etc....), age gap (reader is late early 30s, toji and nanami late are in 40s), marriage, long-term relationship, secret relationship, infidelity/cheating, explicit affair, guilt and shame, toxic relationship, drama, jealousy, emotional repression, emotional baggage, depression, grief, regret, longing, alcohol consumption, drunknness, profanity, acting, actors, work mates, depictions of sexual acts, depiction of naked bodies, depiction of depression, depiction of cheating, depiction of grief, depiction of emotional repression, mention of sexual innuendo, mention of sexual intercourse, actor! toji, actor! nanami, actor! reader;

WORD COUNT: 14k words

NOTE: i know i disappeared for a while and i'm sorry for that. i'm just going through the motions of life, as always. i wanted to get this out sooner, but i couldn't and it just, just a mess. but i hope you enjoy it a lot. this is the only angst on the list, so i wanted to get it out. a lot of you wanted toji to suffer and so i made it so. i hope yall enjoy it!!! i love you all <3

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kayu's playlist, side 2500;

prequel - toxic till the end

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THIS IS NOT THE LIFE HE HAD IMAGINED FOR HIM. But after all that happened, it’s all he had. It’s the only one he wants to know. It’s the only life that had you in it. That’s why he was willing to live it with you, to be with you. It pales into comparison to what life you had together before all the mess he made. But all he could think was that it was a better life than being alone. 

Fushiguro Toji feels like he's living a life on eggshells. It’s a feeling he’s never known before, not in the fights he’s been in, not in the kills he’s made. He’s always been the one with the upper hand, the one in control. But now? Now, he feels like he's one wrong move away from losing you for good.

And that terrifies him.

Why wouldn’t it terrify him? You took him back. You love him. You do, you tell him. He could see it. But not the way you used to. That was all too obvious. You knew it as well as he did. But you both shut your mouths. There was nothing to say. There was nothing left to be explained. All the truths were echoed in both of your complacent silence.

Toji feels it in the way your kisses don’t linger as long as they used to, in the way your lips barely ghost over his before pulling away like you’re afraid of staying too long. He feels it in the way your hands only graze his skin in passing. It was never staying, never searching. Never yearning, like it used to. 

There was a time when your fingers used to tangle in his hair, tugging, caressing, holding on like you never wanted to let go. Now, they only brush through briefly, detached, like you’re reminding yourself of something that no longer belongs to you. He feels it in your voice, too. 

In the way you still tell him you love him each and everyday but never with the same tenderness, it wasn’t as sweet anymore. It felt like it was devoid of anything it used to be. All the words fall from your lips so softly, so delicately, like they might shatter in your mouth if you lingered on them for too long.

There was no warmth in your touch either. Each and every moment, your fingers touched his, it felt like the winter had devoid him of spring or even summer. There was only desolation in your love. One that he couldn’t escape. And perhaps that was the one thing that makes him feel like he’s dying.

It’s in the way you walk past him like you’re not sure if you should touch him. In the way you smile, small and tired, as if holding onto the weight of a love that no longer feels like home. It’s in the space between your fingers that never reaches for him anymore. It’s in the moments where silence is louder than anything you could ever say.

Everything about you, about this fragile love—about the us and the them of it all. It feels like a world on the verge of collapse. It was stupid, to let yourself be consumed by a fragile thing with cracks running too deep.

It was a place he dwelled, where goodbyes are felt more often than reassurances. But that was all that remained for Fushiguro Toji. It was all that he’s ever known. It was all he ever wanted to know.

Yet, everything about it sounds like an ending.

And it was bound to happen, stories do end.

Everything does.

And yet he’s frightened when it does.

But he can’t blame you when it does.

Not for any of it.

He can’t blame you for the way you’ve changed, for the way you’ve built walls between you and him, for the way your heart no longer belongs fully in his hands. Because he was a fool. Toji was the one who dropped it first, he knew that. He was the one who shattered the foundation you had built together. 

After all that you’ve been through before him, he has put you through the edge again. And when something breaks that badly, you can’t always put it back the same way. He knows that. He knows he’s the reason you’re different now, that you love him in a way that doesn’t burn like it used to. So, he swallows the bitterness that rises in his throat. 

He doesn’t have the right to it. He doesn’t have the right to let it out. He doesn’t ask for more. He doesn’t have the right to. He doesn’t ask you to stay a little longer. He doesn’t ask if you still mean it when you say I love you. Because the truth is, he’s scared of the answer.He’s scared you wouldn’t be his accomplice anymore.

And the worst part?

You still come home to him.

And for now, the cycle just repeats.

Toji sits at the kitchen table, rolling his empty glass between his fingers, listening to the quiet hum of the fridge. It's the only sound in the apartment—besides the clock, ticking away the hours since you left. His jaw tightens as he glances at his phone. No messages. No missed calls. He knows better than to expect one.

The front door won’t unlock tonight. The sheets won’t smell like you in the morning. Because you’re gone. And he knows exactly where you are.  Still, he tries. He calls. Once. Twice. It rings. Then stops. No answer. Toji exhales sharply, setting the phone down, rubbing a hand down his face.

When his phone buzzes, his heart kicks against his ribs, a stupid, desperate hope clawing its way up his throat. Maybe it’s you. Maybe you’re calling. Maybe you changed your mind and you’re coming home. Maybe, just maybe, there’s still a part of you that aches for him the way he aches for you.

His fingers tremble slightly as he picks up his phone, eyes scanning the screen.

It was just a message. Your message.

"Don’t wait up."

He swallows hard, feeling his breath hitch deep.

"I’ll see you tomorrow, babe. I love you."

I love you.

God, those words cut through him like a blade.

They used to mean something. They used to hold weight, used to feel like a promise—one that soothed the restless parts of him, the ones that never really knew peace until you came along. But now? 

Now they feel like a placeholder. It was the words you say for the words you couldn’t. But he knows what those words were. Love and hate were the same sides of the coin. The word love is like something you say out of habit, out of obligation, out of the lingering memory of what you once felt for him. Because you can’t bear to say the other word.

Fushiguro Toji clenches his teeth, staring at the message until his vision blurs. He wants to throw the damn thing against the wall, wants to smash it into pieces just to silence the echo of your words rattling in his skull.

But what would that solve?

Nothing.

Just like everything else.

Because this is what you are now. 

What the two of you have become.

A love that feels more like an echo of something that once burned bright. It was a flickering candle in a room that was already cold. A connection held together by fragments of a past that neither of you can let go of, even though it’s already slipping through your fingers. You say I love you, but it doesn’t feel like it belongs to him anymore.

And Fushiguro Toji—he’s a fool, because he still clings to it anyway.

Because he knows you’ll be just as big of a fool with him.

At least he prays for that.

When you came back to him and gave him another chance, Toji had told himself he’d take whatever scraps you were willing to give. If this is what it meant to have you, he’d endure it. He told himself that he could handle it all. He wouldn’t do it again. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. But fuck, it’s getting harder.

You didn’t say you wouldn’t hurt him back.

And he didn’t say that he wouldn’t let you do it.

Even then, how could anyone take this?

How could anyone live like this?

Because you’re in love. His heart shouted at him. This is your only chance.

Because you have to. His brain screamed at him. You messed up.

The sound of the door unlocking jerks him out of his thoughts. He hadn't even noticed the time passing. It was already dawn, the sun waiting to rise high in the sky. He looks up as you step inside your home, your once neatly kept hair slightly disheveled, clothes a little too neat for someone who's been out all night.

His stomach twists at the sight of you. He took a breath as he turned to the coffee machine. Pressing a button, the humming tune of its roaring life didn’t bother you. He continues to move on to making a plate for breakfast. He doesn’t ask right away. You don’t explain, you didn’t have to. That’s the unspoken rule at this point, isn’t it?

You sigh as you kick off your shoes, stretching your arms over your head like you didn’t just drive a knife through his chest by walking through that door. "You’re still up?"

Toji leans back in his chair, arms crossed, watching you. "Couldn’t sleep."

A quiet nod. No apology. You don’t owe him one. Not anymore.

"Have you eaten yet?" you ask, already heading toward the fridge, acting like this is normal. Maybe for you, it is.

"Nah, not yet." he mutters. "Wasn’t hungry earlier."

You pause, looking at him for the first time tonight. Really looking at him. "Toji—"

"Did you have fun?" He cuts you off, his voice low, rough. His knuckles tighten around the glass in his hand.

Your expression flickers back at him. Was it guilt? Was it any sort of anger, or was it some truthful annoyance? He can’t fucking tell anymore, he doesn’t really know how to read it all well anymore. But you don’t answer, and that silence is worse than anything you could have said.

He exhales a humorless chuckle, shaking his head as he stands. "Forget it, babe. Sorry."

“It’s alright.” You tell him in response, low and aware. “You were just….” 

You stop yourself from saying anything else. Nothing was going to change what you were already aware of. Toji knew what was going to happen before it happened.  He watched as you sat down on the counter stool, looking at the bareness of his back. 

Silence bristles between the two of you. The only sounds you could hear came from the sizzling skillet, the sausages cooking well against the runny eggs you so liked. The coffee machine hummed gently as the caffeine filled its glass confines.  The sound of the bread popping out of the toaster, golden and fresh. 

Before you could say anything, Toji took out one of the porcelain plates and started to move about the kitchen with precision. Almost immediately, he had plated the sausages and the eggs. He had taken out the bread from the toaster.

The plate faced you almost a few seconds later, the fork and the knife in front of you. You swallowed your words back, away from him. He places the mug of freshly made coffee a few meters away from the plate.

“I’m going to bed.” He whispers back to you. “Go…go eat, okay?”

You wanted to say something, to tell him those words. But none would come out. You nodded. He took a moment, staring at you, before taking a breath. You can tell. He was hesitating if he should place a kiss on your head. 

“Thank you for the meal.” You whispered to him, taking his hand from across the counter. 

“....I wanted to do it.” He whispers back at you, looking at how your hands were nuzzled together in your palm. His free hand lifts it to his lips and he closes his eyes as he kisses it. “You don’t have to thank me.”

Soon enough, he puts your hand down and lets his touch slip away. You felt like all the breath in your lungs disappeared. You watch as he mumbles something incoherent before moving away from the counter and leaving for the bedroom.

You lift your head, trying not to get your eyes wallowing into the tears. You didn’t have the want for tears. You didn’t want to find yourself in the bitterness of the feelings you were trying to quell. You don’t want to. You didn’t need to. You knew what sort of life you both had. You both knew  what sort of love you have. So, you don’t reach for him again, don’t call his name.

But still, ever so truthfully still, both of you know you’ll be in his bed tonight. You’ll curl up beside him, and he’ll let you. Because at the end of the day, no matter where you go, no matter whose arms you find comfort in. You always come home. And for now, that has to be enough.

Toji stares at the ceiling. The morning sun started to peek through the blinds. He wanted to sleep. You were finally home. He was reassured you’ve come back safely. But he couldn’t find his eyes shutting tight. He took a deep breath. He hated when he got like this.

Toji clenches his jaw, pressing a hand over his face. He’s been trying to ignore the ache in his chest, the way it spreads through his ribs like a wound he can’t stitch up. He can’t stop thinking about it. where you’d been, whose hands had been on you, if you had kissed them the way you used to kiss him. If, when you touched them, you closed your eyes and pretended it was him.

No, that was impossible. 

You don’t pretend, not about this.

That’s the difference between you and him.

A bitter laugh catches in his throat before he can stop it.

You come into the bedroom almost two hours later. Toji hears you the moment the door clicks shut, the soft shuffle of your footsteps as you move through the dimly lit space. He doesn't turn his head, doesn't acknowledge you.

Your husband just keeps his eyes trained on the ceiling, his massive body still, his breathing even. He was pretending to be asleep, pretending he doesn’t know where you've been. Pretending that it doesn't crush every fiber of his being.

But he does. He always does. That was what was easier. For the both of you. It was easier when there was a desire to pretend as always. He could feel the faint scent of soap and clean linen drifting toward him as you passed by. You’ve already bathed and cleaned up. Changed into different clothes from the night before.

Good. He thinks to himself. That’s better for me to breathe.

At least he doesn’t have to smell it. The scent of someone else on your skin, on your clothes, in your hair. He didn’t have to deal with the guessing game he’s started to play for you over the years. You’d given him some mercy today. And he appreciated that.

Toji hears you move around, hears the quiet rustle of fabric as you shut the blinds, casting the room into complete darkness. You both didn’t like the sun whatsoever. You preferred this sort of thing. Living in the dark, loving in the dark. That’s just how it was. So, he doesn’t move, doesn’t shift, just listens as the mattress dips under your weight.

And then you’re beside him.

Warm. Close. Familiar.

But it doesn’t feel like home.

Even if he wanted it to be like that.

You sigh softly, settling into him, pressing against his side, your hand resting lightly against his chest. The weight of it is something he used to crave—something that used to steady him, anchor him to a world that had always felt too uncertain. But now, all it does is remind him of what’s missing. What he’s lost.

Still, he doesn’t push you away. He doesn’t have the heart to. He doesn’t want to. Even though the air between you is thick with the things you’ll never say. Even though the warmth of your body does nothing to chase away the cold that’s settled deep in his bones.

Fushiguro Toji clenches his jaw, staring into the darkness. He wants to say something. Anything. Wants to break this silence before it chokes him to death. Instead, you beat him to it.

“You’re still awake.” Your voice is soft, barely above a whisper.

He exhales slowly. “Yeah.”

A pause. Then, “Did you eat last night?”

His massive fingers twitch against the sheets. The question is so painfully normal, so casually mundane, like you hadn’t just spent the last few hours in someone else’s arms, perhaps even in someone’s bed. Like you hadn’t planned to question him. Like you hadn’t just come home to him afterward.

He swallows. “Wasn’t hungry either.”

You shift softly beside him, pressing your forehead lightly against his muscular shoulder. It’s an affectionate gesture, one you used to do all the time—back when things were different. Back when he was still yours. Back when you were still his.

“Don’t do that.” he mutters, his voice barely more than a breath.

You stiffen slightly. “Do what?”

“Act like this is normal.” His voice is rough, raw, strained with the weight of everything he’s been holding back. “Like you weren’t just with someone else.”

A sharp inhale from you. A tense silence. Then, a quiet, measured response. “You knew what this was, Toji. It meant nothing.”

Yeah. He did. He knew that it wasn’t anything.

He’d done it too, so he was well–versed in it.

But knowing doesn’t make it hurt any less.

His fists tighten in the depths of the heavy sheets. He doesn’t know what he wants from you. Doesn’t know what he expects you to say. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. Maybe something that proves this still means something to you.

You shift away from him slightly, putting space between you. He should be grateful for it, but it only makes the ache in his chest worse. He wants to lash out. Wants to say something cruel, something that will cut you the way you’ve unknowingly cut him. Wants to make you feel this, the way he does.

But he doesn’t do anything.

Because he has no right to be angry.

Because he is the one who ruined this first.

He’s the reason you’re like this now. He was the reason your love feels more like an obligation than a choice. He was the reason everything was dark and bitter. He had no one to blame but himself. He knows this. There was no one to blame but him. 

So he forces himself to breathe, forces himself to push down the bitterness, the desperation, the unbearable ache. Like has learned to practice over the years. He knows what to do. He knows what needs to be done. If he didn’t, you both would be alone. And he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to be without you. He doesn’t want to be alone. 

And he knows all too well, you don’t want to leave too.

You don’t want to be alone.

After all, you would never be here, if you did.

Instead, he exhales a shaky breath and mutters. “Forget it.”

You hesitate for a moment; then whisper back to him, “Okay.”

And just like that, the conversation is over. The distance between you feels like an entire world. And Toji…..he doesn’t know if you’ll still be here when he wakes up. And perhaps thinking about it was for the best. But right now, you were here with him. That was all that truly mattered.

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YOU DIDN’T EXPECT THAT IT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN. But the offer comes on a rainy afternoon. The wide expanse of the sky outside is a dull shade of gray, raindrops tapping lightly against the windowpane, as if the universe itself is waiting with bated breath. Your phone buzzes. When you pick up, your agent’s voice spills through the speaker, brimming with excitement.

"You got it, darling. Lovers by the Seine. It's finally happening."

For a moment, you say nothing. The words sink in slowly, like ink bleeding into paper. You had auditioned for the role a long time ago, so long. In fact, you had almost forgotten about it. Projects get shelved all the time, lost to the industry’s fickle tides. But now, it’s finally happening. And as expected, the role is yours.

You were intrigued by the script when you first read it. It was such a good read that you called your agent about it even before it got the funding. Your agent was sceptical about it for a while, but you doubt that to be the case now. It was getting a big production greenlit from the biggest production firms you knew. 

It was an episodic drama-romance set in Paris. A story about love after loss, about grief and reconciliation, about a divorced couple forced to live together again after their child dies. It’s the kind of role that lingers in your bones. The kind that means something. And that’s why you wanted to do it from the beginning.

Your fingers tighten around the phone. "I’ll do it. You already know this."

Your agent laughs. She already knew how much you wanted it. Soon as you both finished talking about the scripts and who the other casts and crew were going to be, you already moved on to contracts and schedules and flights. 

One would expect that these things would feel overwhelming, but they don’t. At least not anymore. You had been so used to it that it just felt so natural to you. So you sit there and you listen, nodding along, feeling the words settle inside you. 

You glance to your side, where your husband Fushiguro Toji sits. He’s sprawled on the couch beside you, his attention half-absorbed by his phone, absently scrolling through his many work emails or messages. He doesn’t look up when you hang up, doesn’t ask what the call was about. So you tell him.

“They offered me a movie with Nanami Kento.”

That gets his attention. His thumb pauses over the screen, his gaze flicking toward you. “Yeah?”

“It’s set in Paris, France.” you continue, shifting slightly to face him. “It’s called Lovers by the Seine.”

There’s something unreadable in his expression—fleeting, gone before you can place it. “What’s it about?”

You swallow. “A couple that gets divorced who moved away from each other… but after their kid dies in Paris, they move in together again to try and figure out everything.”

Toji exhales through his nose, tilting his head back against the couch. “Heavy topics, huh.”

“Yeah, it is.” you murmur.

He exhales slowly, eyes still fixed on the ceiling, as if weighing everything. Still he doesn’t say much after that, only nods, as if he understands something you don’t. As if he already knows what’s coming next.

You hesitate before asking, “Do you want to come with me?”

He hears the question for what it is. An invitation. A chance. For a moment, he wonders if he should say yes. If he should drop everything and follow you to Paris, walk down cobbled streets with you, drink coffee in quiet cafés, pretend like you always do, and perhaps even for the better, even for just a little while—that things are still the way they used to be.

But he knows better.

He doesn’t belong there.

And he doesn’t know if he wants to be there.

So instead of answering, he reaches for his phone once again. You watch as he swipes through his calendar, and hands it to you. His schedule is just as packed as yours. A different city, a different set, a different life. But it was normal, you knew that much. It was the life of actors.

“I’ve got a film in Australia, it’s the wild west one.” he says finally. His voice is even, unreadable. “Starts around the same time.”

You purse your lips into a flat line before nodding, your gaze flickering over the screen as you scan through his schedule.

Your tender fingers ghost over the dates, the neatly blocked-off time slots, the press conferences, the travel plans. It’s packed. Busy. It was just like yours. It was just right. It’s always like this, the life of actors. It was to be expected.

You carefully hand the phone back to him, the weight of it heavier than it should be. Fushiguro Toji takes it without a word, his thumb swiping idly across the glass screen, but he doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t have to.

Because you already know what he won’t say. You know why he won’t move anything around, why he won’t even consider making the time. It’s not because he can’t. It’s because he won’t. Because this is safer. Because distance is the unspoken thing you both cling to, the thing that keeps you from tearing each other apart.

You know this too well. Too intimately. After all, you were two people caught in the same orbit, always passing, never landing in the same place. Maybe you never would. You offered your husband a small smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

“Guess we’ll both be busy.”

Toji nods back at you, his throat dry. “Yeah.”

Silence settles between you. Not uncomfortable, but heavy. It stretches across the space like an old wound, one that has scarred over but never really healed. You shift slightly, resting your head against his shoulder. 

It’s an instinctual movement, one that once would have felt effortless, natural. But now, there’s hesitation, a fleeting moment where you wonder if you should even do it at all. Still, Toji doesn’t move away. He doesn’t let himself pull back. So you let yourself lean into him, just for a moment.

“Paris is nice this time of year, don’t you think?” you murmur, your voice soft, almost wistful.

Toji hums in response. It was low, noncommittal. A sound that neither agrees or disagrees, that sits somewhere in between. You don’t know what you expected from your husband. It  was hard to expect anything, when he doesn’t want to encroach on the life you’ve built outside your gilded cage. 

Maybe a question. Maybe a Yeah, I bet it is. Maybe even something playful, like Guess I’ll never know or You can bring me back something nice. But you get nothing back from him. Just that quiet, indifferent hum.

You swallow, feeling something curl tight in your chest. 

The space between you has never felt wider.

And you don’t know how you’ll repair it back again.

Toji looks at you for a moment when you look away. But he moved away immediately. He doesn’t know what to say. What should be said in a situation like this? He doesn't know anymore. It’s been so long. 

Your husband couldn’t help but shift slightly, carefully adjusting his grip on his phone, blue–green eyes still fixed on the screen as if the conversation doesn't weigh on him the way it does on you.

Then, after a beat, he asks, “What do you want from Australia?”

His voice is steady, unreadable, like he’s asking you something as simple as whether you need anything from the store. Like it’s just another trip, another job, another stretch of time apart that neither of you are willing to acknowledge for what it truly is.

You blink, caught off guard by the question. What do you want from him? You could say something easy, something lighthearted. Bring me back a souvenir. A keychain. A postcard. Something small.

Or you could say the truth.

Bring me back something I can’t name. 

Bring me back a version of us that doesn’t feel like this. 

Bring me back something that tells me you still want to come home to me.

But you don’t.

Instead, you force a small smile, one that he couldn’t read well. “I don’t know. Surprise me.”

Toji exhales softly, finally setting his phone down on the table beside him. He turns his head slightly, just enough to glance at you, searching your expression for something—anything. If he finds it, he doesn’t say.

“Alright, babe.” he murmurs, leaning back again. “I’ll bring you something.”

And just like that, the conversation is over.

Paris. Australia. Two different places, two different lives, two different people who used to be something more. You close your eyes, letting yourself lean into him just a little longer, just until you have to let go. And he just lets you.  At least for a little while, you can pretend. You could pretend that life was beautiful, like it used to be.

══════════════════

IT’S BEEN A LONG TIME SINCE YOU’VE BEEN IN THE CITY OF LOVE. And it was as interesting and vibrant as you remembered it to be. Paris greets you with crisp autumn air and the scent of rain-soaked cobblestones. The city hums with life, life that you had long forgotten. You found yourself enjoying the soft chatter in cafés, the occasional honk of a car, the distant sound of street musicians playing something slow and mournful.

It should feel exciting. It should feel new.

But all you feel is exhaustion.

From the long haul flight, from the weight in your chest you can’t quite shake, from the way your life feels like it’s split between two places, two versions of yourself. One left behind in Tokyo, sitting in silence beside a man who no longer chases after you.

And the other, standing here now, waiting for something unknown.

Your leading man to be exact.

Nanami Kento is already at the hotel when you arrive, standing in the lobby with a cup of coffee in hand, posture effortlessly composed. He spots you before you spot him, offering a nod of acknowledgment as you approach. But you  supposed he was just good at that. He smiled at you, so dashingly.

“Welcome to Paris!” he says back.

Nanami Kento had a voice made for the stage, for the screen, for commanding the attention of a room without ever needing to raise it. It was smooth, even—polished in a way that made everything he said feel measured, deliberate. But beneath that, there was something else, something warmer. Something real.

It wasn’t the refined, distant cadence he used in interviews or the practiced charm he carried on set. No, this was different. This was the version of him that wasn’t performing, that wasn’t reading lines off a page or curating an image. This was the voice he used when the cameras were gone, when the lights dimmed, when he was just Kento and not Nanami Kento, the leading man.

And good god, you were starting to understand why everyone in the industry spoke about him the way they did. Why directors fought to cast him, why crew members always praised how easy he was to work with, why fellow actors swore up and down that he was the best scene partner they’d ever had.

Because it wasn’t just talent. It wasn’t just the way he delivered his lines or the way he carried himself with quiet confidence. It was this. The way he made you feel like he was listening. Really listening.

The way he spoke to you like you were the only person in the room. And the way, somehow, even in the middle of all this mess, when you were drowning in guilt, when the weight of your choices threatened to suffocate you. In a way, he made you feel safe. He just made you feel good. 

You exhale, shoulders easing just slightly. “Thanks. I still feel like I’m moving from the plane.”

He lets out a small chuckle, the corner of his mouth lifting just slightly. “Jet lag is merciless.”

There’s something easy about this, about him. He’s not overly familiar, not intrusive. Just a present. Just there. It strikes you, this immediate sense of comfort. Like slipping into a conversation already halfway through. Like there’s no need for pretense, no need to figure out the right words, the right way to exist.

Nanami gestures toward the café inside the hotel. “Do you want to sit for a while? Or do you need to head up and rest?”

You hesitate for half a second, then shake your head. “No. I could use some coffee.”

And maybe, for the first time in a long time, some company. 

Nanami Kento softly nods back at you, already moving toward a table. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t press. No, he just lets you settle into the moment at your own pace. You appreciated that from him. You needed that swift release from that fast paced life you had long lived.

And as you sit across from him, as the quiet hum of the city moves around you, you realize almost all too suddenly—this might be the first time in a long time that you don’t feel like you’re bracing for something to go wrong. 

“What sort of coffee do you want?” He asks you, turning to the menu.

“Well, something strong.” You whispered in response to him. You smiled. “Surprise me.”

He raises his brow, intrigued. He smiles. “Alright.”

The coffee is rich, slightly bitter, but warm in a way that settles into your bones. You wrap your hands around the cup, letting the heat seep into your fingers as you take a slow sip. Across from you, Nanami Kento sits with that quiet presence of his. It was all too steady, unhurried. Vibrant and cool.

There’s no need for filler conversation, no forced small talk. Just the sound of the world moving around you, in the most tender pace. You could hear the clink of porcelain, the murmur of French drifting from nearby tables, the distant hum of a city that never really stops.

“You don’t look like you’ve rested.” Nanami observes after a moment, his gaze flicking over you with quiet assessment. “You okay?”

You huff a small, tired laugh, setting your cup down. “I haven’t.”

“Because of the flight?”

Because of the flight. 

Because of what you left behind. 

Because of what you didn’t leave behind.

You don’t answer immediately, instead running a thumb along the rim of your cup. “Something like that.”

Nanami doesn’t push. He only nods, taking a slow sip of his own coffee. “Well, we don’t start filming until Thursday. You’ll get some rest. Maybe sight see.”

You laugh. “Well, thank goodness for that. I need the rest.”

“Well, I can see that.” He giggles with you.

There’s something about him that reminds you of an old book, the kind with worn edges and a heavy spine, the kind that you pick up expecting one thing but end up finding something entirely different. Something more. It’s nice, this quiet understanding.

“You auditioned for this role a long time ago, didn’t you?” he asks after a beat. “Before the project was put on hold.”

You nod. “Feels like forever ago.”

“Do you still want it?”

The question catches you off guard. Not because it’s surprising, but because it’s direct in a way most people don’t dare to be. This was the other thing people talked about when Nanami Kento is in the conversation. He was the sort of man who was blunt. He doesn’t beat around the bush. And that struck you. Struck you too hard.

Do you still want it?

Do you still want to be here, telling this story, standing in the middle of Paris for the next few months, living in someone else’s skin while your own life continues unraveling somewhere else? You could lie. You were good at it. You get paid to do it for a living.

But you somehow, you don’t.

You couldn’t do it.

Not when he was looking at you that way.

Like he was comforting you, if you wanted to be honest.

“I think so.” you admit, leaning back in your chair. “I think… I need it.”

Nanami considers your words for a moment, then nods. “Good.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Good?”

He shrugs slightly. “If we’re going to be playing two people who loved each other once, it helps to have something real to pull from.”

You exhale a soft laugh, shaking your head. “That’s a depressing way of looking at it, don’t you think?”

“Realistic.” he corrects. Then, with the faintest ghost of a smirk. “And besides, I think you’ll do fine. You seem like someone who knows how to carry weight. You wouldn’t win your awards if you weren’t.”

The words sit strangely in your chest. Not unwelcome, just… seen.

You look at him, really look at him, and you realize, you’re not the only one who came to Paris carrying something heavy. And maybe, just maybe, this is the kind of comfort you need. Not someone who tells you it will be okay. But someone who understands that it won’t.

Nanami Kento holds your gaze for a moment longer before looking down at his coffee, fingers curling around the cup. He doesn’t ask, doesn’t pry, but there’s an understanding in the silence that lingers between you. It was one that doesn’t demand to be spoken aloud.

You take another sip, the warmth grounding you, then exhale slowly. “What about you?”

He glances up.  “What about me?”

You gesture vaguely toward him. “You don’t strike me as someone who takes on romance dramas lightly. What made you say yes to this one?”

A beat of quiet. Then, without looking at you, he answers. “I thought it was a good story.”

It’s a simple response, one that was all too eager to be measured. But there’s something beneath it, one you couldn’t comprehend. As though it was something needing care for, as if something needed to be withheld. It was to be expected from such a seasoned veteran like him. He was a damn good actor too. 

You tilt your head slightly. “And?”

Nanami exhales through his nose, something resembling amusement flashing across his face. “And…..” he admits softly. “I think I needed to get away.”

You don’t push for more. You don’t need to. Because you understand. Paris isn’t just a job for either of you. It’s an escape, a temporary reprieve, a city to get lost in while the rest of your life stays suspended in the distance.

You tap your fingers against your cup, then nod. “Then I guess we’re in the right place.”

A small smirk tugs at the corner of Nanami’s mouth. “Maybe.”

It’s a strange kind of relief, sitting here with him. Not in the way that fills the empty spaces inside you, but in the way that makes them easier to carry. For the first time since you arrived, you think that maybe—just maybe—Paris won’t be so lonely after all.

══════════════════

EVERYTHING WAS GOING WELL. Almost too well. Filming begins a few days later and each day that passes doing this project, everything just feels like a dream. A dream you hadn’t expected. A dream you didn’t want to wake up from. It was a forbidden dream. And yet it was one well enjoyed. Paris starts to feel like something out of a fantasy long lived. 

It was almost too dreamy, even when it gets hard. Long days spent on set, late nights running lines and yet the city continues to shimmer brightly, humming softly beneath it all. The weight of the script settles into your bones, its grief and longing bleeding into your own. And yet it was still something incredible.

And then there’s Nanami Kento.

Incredibly steady, unwavering acting veteran Nanami Kento, who meets your eyes with his own warm gaze across the room like he sees everything. Nanami Kento who listens when you speak to him, not missing anything. Nanami Kento who doesn’t ask for more than you can give. You work well together. More than well. 

There’s something seamless about it, something unspoken. The way he holds you when the cameras roll, the way his touch lingers just long enough to make it real, the way he watches you like you’re something fragile, something he doesn’t want to break.

You tell yourself it’s just the script. 

You tell yourself that it’s just the way it’s written.

You tell yourself that this is just a job.

But then the cameras stop rolling, and his hand still lingers at the small of your back. He still looks at you with something unreadable in his gaze. And you feel it. This slow, creeping infatuation, curling into your chest, seeping into the spaces you thought were closed off.

Yet, the guilt follows close behind, consuming you whole. Because even here, in Paris, even with Nanami Kento’s steady presence beside you, your mind still drifts elsewhere. And you hated it, as much as you thought it was just right. 

Back to Japan.

To your home.

To Fushiguro Toji.

You think of him when you lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling of your hotel room. You think of the way his voice sounds in the dark, the way his hands used to feel when they reached for you like you were his.

And it eats you alive.

Because you know the truth.

You are falling for Nanami Kento.

It happens slowly at first—small moments that build into something inevitable. Nanami Kento  is steady, constant in a way that feels like gravity, pulling you toward him without force. Something you weren’t used to. Someone you had thought you had long wanted in your life.

You don’t even realize how close you’ve gotten. How could you, when you had been thinking of Toji?

But there was that one night, where you find yourself drowning in the relaxation of the drink. It was that night when the breath of alcohol echoed on your tongue, when you’re sitting in his hotel room, bottle after bottle of wine between you, exhaustion settling in your bones.

You pause, your fingers tightening slightly around the stem of your wine glass as you register his words. There's something in the way he says it. It was almost too soft but it was surely ever so pointed, as if he's looking right through you.

Your lips quirk upward, though there’s no real amusement behind it. “You’re saying I’ve been method acting this whole time?” you tease, taking a slow sip of your drink.

His caramel gaze remains steady, unreadable in the dim light of the hotel suite. He doesn’t answer right away, just watches you with that quiet intensity of his, like he’s weighing his next words carefully.

Finally, he exhales, swirling the wine in his own glass. “I’m saying that you wouldn’t play this role so well if you didn’t already understand it.”

Something tightens in your chest. You should brush it off, make another joke, but instead, you meet his gaze head-on.

“Is that your way of saying I look like a woman mourning a lost love?” you ask, tilting your head slightly, playful, but there’s something vulnerable beneath the surface.

Nanami’s lips twitch, but it’s not quite a smile. “I think, my good girl…..” he says, voice smooth, careful. “That you look like a woman who carries too much.” He takes a slow sip of his wine before adding, “And I think you’re very good at pretending you don’t.”

Your breath catches, because shit.

That was a little too close. A little too honest.

So you do what you do best.

You do all you can to deflect. You lean forward, resting your chin against your palm as you regard him with a slow, teasing smile. “Careful, now mister Nanami Kento. My dearest senpai—” you murmur, voice light but laced with something else, something more dangerous. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirting with me.”

Nanami huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You’d know if I were flirting with you.”

You raise a brow, intrigued now. “Oh? And what would that look like?”

He sets his glass down and leans in just slightly, just enough to make your pulse jump. “It wouldn’t be subtle.” he says smoothly, voice dipping lower, rich and warm like the wine between you. “And you wouldn’t have to ask.”

Your stomach flips, your fingers tightening slightly around your glass. For a moment, neither of you speaks. The air between you shifts, crackling with something neither of your names. Then, because you’re a little drunk. Just as much, you’re exhausted. And most of all, you like the way he’s looking at you, you let yourself smile, slow and knowing.

“Good to know.”

Nanami Kento couldn’t help but smirk. You notice it almost immediately. It was barely there, before he lifted his glass again, his eyes never leaving yours as he took another sip. And you realize, with a slow, creeping certainty….You’re in trouble.

Your breath catches, fingers tightening around your glass. You know what he means. Because grief isn’t foreign to you. Because you are playing a character who loved once, and lost, and somehow found themselves tangled in old feelings all over again. Just like you. You look at him, at the way the dim light catches on his face, at the way he looks at you like he already knows the thoughts in your head. 

“You’re easy to be around.” you say instead, voice quieter than before. It’s not a confession, not entirely, but it’s close.

Nanami exhales a quiet laugh. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

You shake your head. “It’s not.”

It should be, shouldn’t it?

It should be a problem.

You were married.

He reaches across the table, slow, giving you the chance to pull away. Not when his fingers brush against yours, warm and deliberate. And you don’t pull away. You let him touch you. Let his palm press against yours, let his fingers curl gently around your hand.  You let yourself give in.

Because at this moment, just for tonight, you want to stop thinking. 

You want to let go of the guilt clawing at your chest, the ghost of a man who still lingers in your mind. 

You just want to feel something that you hadn’t for a long time.

So when Nanami Kento stands, when he steps closer, when his fingers trail up your arm and settle at your jaw. You couldn’t help it. You just let him. And when he leans in, when his lips brush against yours, you let yourself kiss him back.

Nanami kisses you like he’s memorizing the shape of your mouth, like he’s been waiting for this moment longer than either of you would dare to admit. And you let him. You let yourself sink into it, let yourself need it.

His hands are firm where they cup your jaw, tilting your head just so, deepening the kiss until all you can taste is him. It was that good bitter taste of wine and tender warmth and something steady, something safe. Something that felt like freedom. But there’s hunger there, too, beneath the restraint, beneath the careful control he always carries.

And then, like something inside of him finally snaps, he presses closer, his grip tightening, his body crowding against yours until the chair scrapes against the floor as he pulls you up. Your hands find his shoulders, his chest, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like it’s the only thing tethering you to the moment. 

He moves with purpose, walking you backward until the backs of your thighs hit the edge of the bed. You gasp against his mouth, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t give you the space to think, doesn’t give you room for hesitation.

He just takes and takes, tilting his head and kissing you deeper, hungrier, until your knees give out and you’re falling onto the mattress with him following right after. His weight presses down against you, firm but not overwhelming, and you feel it.

You could feel how much he wants this, how much he’s holding back. You tug at his shirt, your fingers slipping beneath the fabric, running over the warmth of his skin. He exhales sharply at the touch.

You could feel his grip on your waist tightening as he presses against you, his mouth trailing from your lips to your jaw, down to your neck. And god, it feels good. It feels like drowning in something that isn’t grief for once. His teeth graze the sensitive spot beneath your ear, and you shudder, fingers curling into his hair.

“Nanami—” You couldn't help but moan.

He groans against your skin, hands sliding beneath your shirt, thumbs brushing over bare skin, setting fire to every nerve he touches. “Tell me to stop.”

“I….I—”

He murmurs something against your throat, voice rough, ragged with restraint. His eyes hit against your own, full of want and need. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

You should tell him to stop.

You should stop it right here.

It’s the right thing to do.

Instead, you pull him back to your lips and kiss him harder, chasing the feeling, chasing the warmth, chasing the relief he offers. Because right now, in this moment, you don’t want to stop. Nanami Kento doesn’t hesitate this time. And he wouldn’t again.

The moment your lips crash into his again, any remaining restraint shatters between you. His hands roam, mapping out your body like he’s desperate to memorize every inch of you. His touch isn’t frantic, but deliberate, it was all too precise, like he’s savoring you, like he’s taking his time claiming you.

Your back arches as his fingers slip beneath your shirt, palms warm against your bare skin. He tugs at the fabric, wordlessly asking, and you let him pull it over your head, tossing it somewhere neither of you care about. His breath stutters as he takes you in, his eyes darkening with something that sends a shiver down your spine. 

“Beautiful.” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper, but it’s reverent, like he’s seeing you for the first time. “You’re so beautiful.”

Heat pools low in your stomach at the way he looks at you, at the way his hands grip your waist like he doesn’t want to let go. You reach for him, fingers curling into his shirt, and he gets the message, stripping it off without a second thought.

And then he’s on you again, lips trailing down your throat, along your collarbone, lower. His kisses are open-mouthed, hot against your skin, each one leaving a mark that makes your breath hitch. He’s careful but unrelenting, pressing into you, pressing against you.

Not until you feel every inch of him, solid and wanting. Your legs part for him without thinking, and he settles between them like he belongs there. His hips press into yours, a slow, teasing grind that has you gasping against his lips. It’s too much, and yet not enough.

“Nanami, please.” you breathe, nails digging into his back as he rolls his hips against you again, harder this time, letting you feel just how badly he wants you.

He groans heavily at the way you say his name, his strong forehead dropping against yours. His breath is heavy, uneven, and his long fingers tighten on your waist, like he’s holding onto the last thread of his control. 

“Tell me this isn’t a mistake.” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your own. “Tell me that you want me too.”

You should hesitate now, you should have common sense, once again. You should think about Toji, about what this means, about what you’re doing. But right now, with his own  body pressed against yours, with his lips teasing yours, with your body begging for more. You don’t care. You hadn’t cared for a long time.

Your husband knew why this happened.

You knew why you were like this.

And you didn’t want to look back.

He would understand. You tell yourself. This was how we loved each other.

You pull him down, capturing his mouth with yours in a kiss that’s more desperate than anything else. And when you whisper against his lips, your voice is breathless, all too certain. All too eager about wanting to drink the cup of sin once more. 

“It’s not a mistake.” You whispered back at him, ever so hotly. “I want you.”

You could feel his eyes darkened with unadulterated lust as he felt the heat of your body beneath him, his hands roaming over your skin like a man possessed. He doesn’t think he can barely think straight, lost in the intoxicating scent and taste of you.

The kiss could only deepen, his eager tongue tangling with yours in a dance as old as time. He continued on and on until it got to the point of no return. The point you dread and want all at once. You were just lost in it all, this crazy pandemonium of pleasure.

His fingers find the waistband of your pants, tugging at them impatiently. You lift up to help him strip you bare, leaving only silk stockings and lacy underwear between you. Nanami Kento rips those away too, tossing them carelessly aside.

Now fully exposed to his hungry gaze, you know that you’ve been rendered speechless by the raw desire etched on his face. His cock throbs against your thigh through his jeans, all too hard and eager, all too ready to consume you.

You could feel his brown caramel eyes burn with a primal hunger as he takes in your naked form, his gaze roaming over every curve and dip of your body. The intensity of his desire sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire deep within you.

You can feel the heat of his arousal against your thigh, the hard length of him pressing insistently against you. Without a word, Nanami Kento leans in to capture your bruised lips in a searing kiss, his hands roaming over your skin possessively. 

He breaks the kiss only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, his breath warm against your skin. Sweat slowly permeates through the glow of pleasure. The sensation sends a thrill of anticipation through you, making you ache for more of him.

With a low growl, your lover finally sheds his own clothes, his body taut and muscled as he hovers over you. The anticipation is almost unbearable as he positions himself between your parted thighs, he hovers over you, his breath uneven, his body tense with restraint. 

His massive hands, normally so steady, tremble slightly as they trace along your skin, memorizing, worshipping every inch of your body as though it was everything that he ever wanted. Your eyes lock, and something unspoken passes between you. 

There was something raw and aching, something that neither of you dares to name. You didn’t need to. You could feel it. You could feel it so strongly that you found yourself longing for something that was forbidden. Longing for him. His hand cradles your cheek, his thumb tracing slow, reverent circles against your skin.

"Are you sure?" he murmurs, voice rough, his forehead nearly pressed against yours.

You could stop this. You could pull away, pretend this never happened, pretend that your heart isn’t twisting with guilt even as your body burns with want. But the truth is, you need this. You need to be seen. To be held. To be wanted, in the ways that wouldn’t make you miserable. In ways that wouldn’t want you in a gilded cage.

So you answer him the only way you know how—by pulling him down into a brutish kiss that is desperate and consuming, a kiss that drowns out everything else. Nanami Kento groans against your lips, his now naked body pressing against yours, solid and warm. 

His touch is both reverent and possessive, fingers tracing the curves of your body with something close to devotion. It’s all too overwhelming, the way he takes his time, the way he doesn’t just want you. He adores you. And you know it.

He treats you like you are something fragile yet precious, something that deserves to be cherished, even as his need threatens to unravel him. And when he finally moves closer to you, when the last bit of space between you disappears, you both shudder. Because this isn’t just desire, it isn’t just need. It’s something deeper. 

It was something that terrifies you.

Because for the first time in a long time, you feel wanted. 

And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself be loved.

And as he finally enters you, filling you completely with his hardness, a gasp escapes your lips, mingling with his groan of pleasure. The feeling of him moving inside you, the friction and heat, is almost too much to bear. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you steady as he savors the exquisite sensation of your warm, tight pussy enveloping him. 

"Fuck, you feel amazing." he groans, his voice husky with desire. “All too good.”

He starts to move brutishly over and over, eagerly establishing a primal rhythm that has you both gasping with pleasure. His hips snap forward, driving his cock deeper with each thrust. The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin mingle with your moans and cries of ecstasy.

"That's it, take all of me." He growls, increasing his pace. “You’re doing so well, aren’t you? You’re such a good girl.”

His hands roam your body, caressing and squeezing as he pounds into you relentlessly. Drool started to fall through your mouth as you groaned over and over, whispering words you didn’t even understand as you were holding ever so tightly against him, trying to keep yourself high on the pleasure.

You can feel every inch of him sliding in and out, the delicious friction sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. His beautiful face is flushed, his warm caramel eyes burning dark with lust as he watches where your bodies join. Your nails dig deeply into his back as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him even deeper.

"Harder!" you pant, your voice barely recognizable. Tears started to fall from your cheeks. "Fuck me harder, please—oh my god!"

He obliges with a snarl, his hips pistoning furiously, harder than ever before. The hotel bed creaks and shakes beneath you, threatening to collapse under the force of his deep sultry thrusts. You're both lost in a haze of primal passion, driven by the need for release.

Suddenly, your lover pulls out, flipping you onto your stomach. He grabs your hips and lifts them, exposing your glistening folds. "Gonna fill this tight little pussy, so good, hm." he grunts, slamming back into you from behind. “You’re gonna let me, won’t you?”

You couldn’t answer anymore. It just felt too good, you couldn’t focus on anything else, but the pleasure that overwhelms you. It was this new angle, it was just all too consuming. It allows him to reach even deeper, his thick cock hitting that sweet spot inside you with every thrust. Your screams of pleasure fill the room as he fucks you mercilessly, chasing his climax.

"Come for me, good girl." He whispers hotly against your ear. “Do it, come on.”

Your body trembles with anticipation, the pressure building inside you reaching a fever pitch. His words, whispered so commandingly, send you spiraling over the edge. Your orgasm crashes through you like a tidal wave, your inner walls clamping down around his throbbing shaft as you scream his name. 

He continues to pound into you, drawing out your climax until you're a quivering, oversensitive mess. With a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself deep and finds his own release, filling you with his hot seed as he groans loudly. 

You collapse onto the bed, completely spent and satisfied, his weight pressing you into the mattress as he catches his breath.The room is filled with the sounds of your labored breathing and the occasional spasm of pleasure that still rocks through you.  He rolls off of you, pulling you close and kissing you deeply, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin.

"That was incredible, good girl." he murmurs, his voice husky with satisfaction. “You did well.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his words, at the way his voice dips into something rich and languid, like warm honey. His fingers trace slow, absentminded circles on your skin, grounding you in the aftermath, in the heat still lingering between you.

You close your eyes, letting yourself sink into the comfort of his touch, the warmth of his body against yours. It feels good. He feels good. You could feel it in the way his pleasure flows down from your crevices, so dirtily, so roughly. You want to stay in this moment a little longer, wrapped in the quiet intimacy of it. You wanted to stay in this high forever.

But then, reality creeps in.

It always does.

Guilt is a slow, creeping thing. It curls around the edges of your mind, whispering things you don’t want to hear. It reminds you of him. Of home. Of the promises you’ve broken. You swallow against the lump forming in your throat.

You could feel your fingers twitching slightly where they rested against Nanami’s chest. You don’t move away, you dared not to, not yet. Because God, you don’t want to. You don’t want to leave this warmth, this fleeting moment of happiness. And that’s the worst part.

That you’re happy. That for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel wanted. You feel light. And it terrifies you. You were terrified, because you loved your husband too. As horrible as it all had become, how messy it has become. You loved your husband too, you loved Toji. 

And yet you were happy here, in the arms of this man.

This happily married man is right beside you.

He already knew how this game is played.

This game of guilt and pleasure, better than you.

That’s why he didn’t seem to care about it. 

Nanami must feel the shift in you because his hand stills on your skin, his lips brushing against your temple. “You’re thinking too much, aren’t you?” he murmurs, voice soft but knowing.

A dry laugh escapes you, brittle at the edges. “That’s a dangerous thing to say to an actress.”

His chest rumbles with quiet amusement, but he doesn’t press, doesn’t ask the question you know is lingering on his tongue. Instead, he pulls you in closer, his arms a firm band around you, as if he can anchor you here. As if he can keep you from spiraling.

“Stay for the night.” he murmurs against your skin, and it’s not a command, not even a request, it was just a quiet offering. “It’s already too late to go out.”

And God help you, you want to.

You want to stay in this moment, in this bed, in this sliver of happiness you’ve stolen for yourself. But the thing about stolen moments is that they don’t last. So instead of answering, you press a soft kiss to his collarbone, breathing him in, memorizing the way he feels against you.

And for tonight, you let yourself pretend.

══════════════════

IT WAS ROUGH, DEALING WITH ALL OF THIS. But what could he do, when he was here in Australia? What could he even do to make it all stop, when he knows it won’t? That was just how it was. This is the madness he had started. He started his own nightmare.

Fushiguro Toji presses his fingers against his temple, his head pounding with something that isn’t quite anger but isn’t far from it either. The glossy magazine pages crinkle under his grip, the tabloid splayed open on the cheap hotel table, mocking him with its bolded words.

"Sparks Fly on Set— Y/N L/N and Nanami Kento, the upcoming hottest on screen couple!"

"Electric Chemistry Between Y/N L/N and Nanami Kento—More Than Just Acting?"

“Lovers By The Seine Or Lovers Behind the Scenes? Nanami Kento Looks In Love!”

Bullshit, all of it was bullshit.

Toji could feel his jaw flexing as he stared at all the pictures—all the ones of you laughing, your hand lingering just slightly on Nanami Kento’s arm, your body angled toward him like he’s the only person in the damn room. And maybe he is.

He couldn’t help but exhale sharply, running a hand through his hair before rubbing at his weary face, as if that would somehow scrub away the irritation curling in his gut. He tells himself it shouldn’t bother him, that he shouldn’t care. But his body betrays him, his hands tightening into fists at his sides before he forces himself to relax.

He has no right to be mad.

Not one bit of him deserved to be mad.

Not when he was the one who fucked up.

Not when he was the one who had someone else in his bed before. When he was the one who broke the trust, shattered what you had, left you to pick up the pieces. And yet, seeing this, so vibrant and alive. Seeing you smiling like that, looking at Nanami Kento like that, it makes him feel like something inside him is unraveling.

He scoffs to himself, leaning back against the creaky hotel chair. “Tch. Too well, huh?” he mutters, eyes flicking back to the headline.

Because, yeah. You were moving on. Maybe you already had. And really, what did he expect? That you’d sit around, waiting for him? That you’d let him back in just because he regretted it?

He exhales through his nose, tilting his head back against the wall. He should be happy for you. He should be happy for you. You were finding happiness in something else, while living the nightmare he had inflicted on you, a nightmare you will have to live with for the rest of your life. 

But all he feels is miserable, all too miserable in this grief.

All he can think about is how it should’ve been him.

How it used to be only him.

And how, for the first time, he’s starting to wonder if it ever will be again.

All the sudden, he found himself removed from his thoughts by the sound echoing on the glass table. The vibration of his phone on the table snaps him out of his thoughts. Fushiguro Toji’s blue–green eyes flick toward the screen, and for a second, he just stares. He couldn’t help it.

It was your name.

His chest tightens. 

He swallows, jaw working, before finally reaching for it.

“Yeah?” His voice is rougher than he intends, but he doesn’t bother softening it.

There’s a pause on the other end. Then, a quiet inhale. "Hey."

It’s already too late in Paris. He knows because he’s been counting the damn time zones, because he’s been thinking about where you are and who you’re with even when he doesn’t want to. And right now, you’re probably still in his bed.

Toji clenches his teeth, fingers pressing into his thigh. 

He tells himself he won’t ask, like he always does. 

He promised himself he wouldn't go there. 

He promised himself that he won’t make it worse.

“Are you busy, babe?” you ask, voice light, like this is normal.

Like things aren’t crumbling between you. He almost laughs. Busy? Yeah. He’s real fucking busy, sitting in some half–rate hotel in the desert land of Australia, reading about his wife possibly falling in love with another man. But he held it all in. He didn’t let it all come out. You didn’t deserve to hear it. He didn’t have the right to let you hear it. 

“Nah, babe. I’m fine. Just….” he says instead, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m just…. Tired. Long day today.”

“I see.” Another pause. “Me too.”

Toji closes his eyes at that, because of course you are. You’ve been filming all day. You’ve been with him all day. And now, for whatever reason, you’re calling him. A bitter smile tugs at his lips. “Long day for you too, huh?”

You hum softly, the sound a ghost of something familiar. Something from before. “Yeah… just a lot. The shoot was intense today.”

He doesn’t want to ask. 

He shouldn’t ask.

Control yourself. He thinks to himself. Don’t lose it. 

But the words slip out anyway. “Are you still on set?”

Another pause. Too long. Then, too carefully. "No."

Fushiguro Toji’s grip tightens around the phone.

Don’t ask.

Don’t fucking ask.

“Where are you?”

Silence. His throat works. He almost wants to take it back, almost wants to pretend he doesn’t already know. But then you answer, soft, barely audible, like you know there’s no good way to say it. But he doesn’t reproach you. There’s no way he could say it well, without losing himself in bitterness and grief and pain and guilt. Because he knew you would too.

“My hotel.”

And just like that, it’s real. Toji exhales, long and slow, pressing his thumb to the bridge of his nose. He should hang up. He should. Because if he stays on this call any longer, he’ll say something he’ll regret. But then you speak again, quieter this time.

“Toji.”

And fuck, the way you say his name with that amount of feeling. It was the first time in a long time that he’d heard it said that way. It was almost like you miss him, like there’s still something left. All it does is make his chest ache. He forces out a chuckle, low and rough. 

“Why’d you call, babe?”

You don’t answer right away. When you do, your voice is soft. Almost fragile. “I don’t know.”

That’s the worst part.

Because he does.

Fushiguro Toji drags in a slow breath, trying to steady himself, but it doesn’t help. Nothing about this helps. He should hang up. He should tell you to go back to him, to whatever the hell you’ve started with Nanami Kento, because he has no claim over you anymore. 

But he doesn’t. Instead, he stays on the line, listening to the sound of your breathing on the other end. Listening to the silence that no one would have ever done. This silence was the only thing that remains pure between you. And it’s one he held dear.

He pictures you in that hotel room, the one they put you up in for the duration of filming. He wonders what you’re wearing, if your skin is still warm from someone else’s touch. If Nanami’s scent still lingers on you. The thought makes something sharp coil in his chest.

He shouldn’t ask. 

He really shouldn’t ask.

But he does anyway.

“You alone?”

Silence bellows on the other line. Long. Dragging. And that tells him everything he needs to know. His fingers tighten around the phone. He chuckles, but it’s humorless, bitter. He could tell your breath hitches, almost all too painfully.

“You don’t have to lie, you know.”

“I’m not—” you stop yourself, exhaling. “Toji….At least believe me in this.” 

His name again, soft and pleading. He lets his head drop back against the chair, staring up at the ceiling like that’ll stop the way his stomach twists. He wonders if Nanami is still there, if he’s sleeping just a few feet away, if he’s listening. The thought makes Toji’s jaw clench.

He exhales sharply through his nose. “You should get some sleep. It’s late over there.”

Another pause. This time, he hears you shift, like you’re curling up, like you’re trying to disappear into yourself. “I just…” You hesitate. “I don’t know why I called.”

Yeah, well. He does. Because even if you were lying in someone else’s bed, even if you were tangled up in another man’s sheets, you still reached for him. You still wanted him. Your foolish, disgusting husband. And for some sick, selfish reason, that’s enough to keep him from hanging up. 

So instead of that, he swallows down everything else, all the anger, all the jealousy, all the ache that’s settled deep in his ribs and instead, your husband lets out a slow, tired sigh. He nodded against the phone.

“Yeah, I know.” he mutters, voice low. 

The silence between you stretches, thick and suffocating. 

Toji hears you inhale shakily on the other end, and something in his chest tightens.

Then, in a voice so small it nearly breaks him, you say to him. “I think I’m pregnant.”

Toji goes completely still. His fingers go slack around the phone, his breath caught somewhere in his throat. For a second, his mind blanks, his body going cold before heat rushes in all at once. It was all panic, disbelief, something sharp and deep twisting in his gut.

“What?” It comes out rough, barely above a whisper.

“I… I don’t know what…” you say quickly, but your voice is trembling. “But I think—I mean, O just….And I—” You stop, exhaling shakily. “I don’t know, Toji.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his fingers against them like that’ll somehow stop the way they burn. He feels like the air’s been stolen from his lungs, like the ground beneath him has disappeared entirely.

Pregnant.

He swallows thickly. When he speaks again, his voice is strained, raw. “When did you……”

You hesitate. 

Your breath hitches.

He could tell you were unwell.

“I don’t know what to do.” Your voice cracks, just slightly. “I don’t know, Toji.”

That’s what it does. That fragile, helpless waver. A sharp exhale escapes him, his chest rising and falling unevenly. He grips the phone so tightly his knuckles go white, his other hand rubbing over his face. He feels like he’s coming apart, unraveling at the seams.

“I’m gonna be a father, huh?” His voice is hoarse, so quiet he barely recognizes it.

And then, he hears it. 

The soft, broken sound of you crying. 

His stomach drops all too suddenly.

“Yeah.” you whisper.

Fuck. He thinks to himself. 

He has to press his palm against his mouth to keep himself from making a sound, from letting you hear the way his own breath hitches even more. Fushiguro Toji has never been the kind of man who cries. Not when he lost everything before. Not when he ruined what he had with you.

Toji’s breath is ragged, his chest rising and falling too quickly. His grip on the phone is tight, his knuckles paling from the pressure. He feels like his world is tilting, like something irreversible has already happened, something he can’t take back, can’t fight against.

And he doesn’t know how to fucking handle it.

His voice is rough when he asks, “Did you take a test?”

The silence that follows is unbearable.

Then, finally, you spoke.  “I did.”

It’s soft. Barely above a whisper. He hears the way your voice wavers, the way you sound like you don’t want to admit it, like saying it out loud makes it more real. And Fushiguro Toji is gripping onto fraying edges, trying to stop himself from completely unraveling.

Silence stretches between you, suffocating and thick. His mind spins. If you took a test, then that means….this isn’t just some passing worry. This was a permanent thing. This isn’t just something you’re afraid might be happening. 

This is real. This is happening. He exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. The logical part of him, the rational part, tells him to ask. To demand an answer. Is it his? Or is it Nanami’s? Or god knows someone else’s child.

The thought alone makes his stomach twist, makes jealousy burn hot and ugly inside his chest. He wants to know, he needs to know. But then he hears you sniffle even more. And fuck, he doesn’t care about anything else. 

Toji presses his fingers to his temple, screwing his eyes shut. He doesn’t know how to deal with this. He doesn’t know what the hell he’s supposed to do. But he knows one thing—he can’t just sit here.

“I’m coming to Paris.”

The moment the words leave his lips, he hears it. The way your breath hitches, the quiet, choked sob that slips past your lips once again. And fuck, it guts him. He hated it when you were miserable. He hated it when you cried. He hated it even more when you were alone feeling like this, even when he was the cause, even when he wasn’t.

“Toji—”

“I don’t care what I have to move around.” he says, voice low but firm. “I’ll be there.”

Your breath stutters on the other end of the line, a quiet, broken sound that claws at his chest. He can hear you trying to hold it together, trying to suppress the sobs that threaten to spill over, but it’s useless.

“Toji…”

His fingers tighten around the phone, his jaw clenched so hard it aches. He’s never been good at this, at soft words and reassurances, at knowing how to soothe someone else's pain when he can barely handle his own. You’ve always known that. But hearing you like this—he feels it.

He exhales, slow and shaky. “I’ll be there, don’t worry.” he repeats, softer this time. “I’ll go now, okay?”

You inhale sharply, like you’re trying to steady yourself.

But it’s useless, because a second later, a quiet, strangled sob slips out once more.

“I—I don’t know what….” you whisper, voice trembling. “I just, this is overwhelming.”

Toji closes his eyes. Fuck, fuck. He scrubs a hand over his face, trying to swallow down the unbearable weight pressing against his ribs. “Have you seen a doctor yet?” he asks, voice rough.

“No.” you admit, and the guilt in your voice is obvious. “I—Toji, I don’t even know if I—” 

You cut yourself off, like you can’t bring yourself to finish that thought. But he knows what you were going to say. I don’t even know if I can do this.

He exhales sharply. He should be mad. He should be furious. He should be doing something else. Hell, he should demand to know if the baby is his. But all he can focus on is the fact that you’re scared. He doesn’t think about anything else. He wanted you to be okay. And for the first time in a long time, you needed him. You truly did need him.

“Listen to me, babe.” he says, voice low but steady. “You’re not doing this alone, you hear me? I’m going to be by your side, throughout all this, okay?”

You let out another shaky breath, and he knows you’re crying again.

He grips the phone tighter. “I’m going to be there.”

There’s silence, and then. “Okay.” you whisper.

And just like that, the decision is made.

Fushiguro Toji doesn’t know what the hell he’s walking into. Doesn’t know if he’s going to find you in his arms when he gets there, doesn’t know if the baby growing inside you is even his to claim. But none of that matters right now. Right now, you need him.

The line stays open. Neither of you say anything, but neither of you hang up.

Toji listens to your breathing. It was shaky, uneven, but slowing. He imagines you curled up somewhere in your hotel room, probably still tangled in the sheets of a bed that doesn’t belong to him. The thought makes his stomach turn, makes something bitter claw its way up his throat, but he swallows it down.

Not now.

Instead, he grabs his keys with a shaking hand, slipping into his car, his breathing uneven. The weight of everything of you, of this child, of everything he lost and everything he might never get back—it’s crushing him. Still, he forces himself to talk, voice thick with emotion.

“Do you…” His throat feels tight, but he pushes through. “Do you want a boy or a girl?”

You’re quiet for a moment, like you’re caught off guard. Then, barely above a whisper.  “A boy, babe.” you murmur. “A boy that looks like you.”

Something inside Fushiguro Toji breaks. His grip tightens around the steering wheel, his vision blurring with unshed tears. A strangled, sorrowfully choked sound escapes his throat before he can stop it, his chest heaving.

“Shit, shit.” he mutters, pressing his forehead against the wheel, his other hand scrubbing at his face. “Fuck.”

You heard it loud and clear.

He knows you do.

There’s silence for a few moments before you ask, voice soft, fragile. “What about you?”

Toji swallows, blinking hard against the tears that refuse to stop. “I’d rather a girl, babe.” he admits, his voice hoarse. “One that looks like you.”

A breathless little laugh tumbles from your lips, but it’s wet, choked with tears. “What would you name her?” you ask, like this is normal, like you’re two people who haven’t spent the last few years unraveling at the seams.

Toji exhales, his grip on the wheel loosening slightly. “Tsumiki.”

There’s a sharp inhale on the other end of the line. Then, you break. The sob that slips past your lips is quiet but raw, and Toji feels it like a blade straight through his ribs. He didn’t know what to do. 

“Tsumiki, huh.” you repeat, voice trembling. “That’s a good name.”

Toji closes his eyes, lets the sound of your quiet crying fill the space between you. 

And for the first time in a long time, he lets himself cry with you.

The quiet between you is thick, heavy with everything unsaid. Toji keeps the line open as he starts the car, one hand gripping the wheel, the other rubbing at his face, trying to steady himself. But the tears don’t stop.

He doesn’t even remember the last time he cried like this.

Maybe when he lost everything the first time. Maybe when he realized too late what he had destroyed with his own hands.

But this—this is different.

“Toji.” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “Are you driving?”

“Yeah,” he mutters, sniffing. His voice is wrecked, raw. “Heading to the airport.”

You go silent for a second. Then—

“You really meant it, huh?”

He exhales sharply. “I already told you. I don’t care what I have to move around. I’ll be there.”

Another silence stretches between you, but it feels different now. Not as hopeless.

“Are you mad at me?” you ask suddenly, hesitantly.

Toji grips the wheel a little tighter. 

He knows what you’re really asking.

Are you mad that I’m with someone else?

Are you mad that this baby might not be yours?

Are you mad at what I’ve done?

He should be.

But he’s not.

“I don’t have the right to be mad.” he says finally. It’s the truth. He knows that. He knows this mess started with him. “It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

You don’t say anything. But he hears you exhale, slow and shaky, like the weight of his words settles in your chest just as heavily as it does in his. He swallows, staring out at the rain-slicked streets as he drives. 

“Do you—” His throat tightens, and he hates how fucking fragile he sounds. “Do you actually want me there? Or do you just…”

The seconds stretch between you, the weight of everything unspoken hanging in the air. Fushiguro Toji grips the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white, his heartbeat pounding so loudly in his ears that he almost doesn’t hear it when you finally speak.

"Yes." It’s so soft, so fragile, like you’re afraid of what it means. "You’re my husband, after all."

Toji’s breath stutters, his vision blurring again. He shouldn’t feel relief. He shouldn’t. Not after everything. Not after the late nights you spent alone while he was wrapped up in someone else, not after the way he let you slip through his fingers, not after he forced you to find comfort in another man’s arms.

But he does. He presses his foot down harder on the gas, blinking rapidly as his surroundings blur past him. He has to get there. He has to get to you.

“…You still see me that way?” he asks, his voice rough, hesitant.

You let out a shaky breath. “Toji—”

“No, just—” He exhales sharply, gripping the wheel like it’s the only thing tethering him to the ground. “You still think of me as your husband?”

Another pause. “I never stopped.”

A quiet confession. One that sinks into his chest like a knife, twisting so deep it’s almost unbearable. Toji squeezes his eyes shut for just a second. He shouldn’t feel hopeful. He shouldn’t. But he does.

He exhales, trying to steady himself. “I’ll be there soon.”

And this time, you don’t cry.

You just whisper. “Okay.”

[nejiverse]

DIESEL PRANK

gojo, nanami, maki, sukuna, toji

in which you prank them by saying you filled their car with diesel instead of petrol!! established relationship only in nanami and sukuna’s, arranged marriage in sukuna’s

a/n: its been so long since i posted cause ive ran out of ideas :’) req are opened though!

[illubean]

thinking about bodybuilder!toji who bulks during the winter, meaning he gets a cute lil bit of pudge on his tummy 🤭

[moodmagicgirl]

The killer, Toji Fushiguro 🥢

[dxpaa]

You wake up in the middle of the night, all crawling and shaking. You’re hugging yourself trying to get warm. Your gaze rises to the window that is half open, from which a light wind blows directly on your naked body. You were in your panties and would have been covered by a big, thick blanket if it wasn’t by your man’s side who took everything and turned his back on you.

«Holy shit»

You sweared silently to yourself and started waking up Toji, who was sleeping soundly. He lay down and covered himself with your common blanket. You climbed half your body on him and started to lightly shake his shoulder.

«Babe, wake up please. You took all the blankets to yourself»

But he didn’t hear you. His face was frowned upon as usual. He just wrapped the blanket tighter under himself.

«Toji hey, I’m very cold, wake up»

You kept shaking him, but now even more. You decided to pat him on the forehead, but even that didn’t help. You finally decided to give up and just start pulling the blanket on yourself. You pushed and pulled it on yourself, doing your best.

«What the hell are you doing, woman?!»

Toji turned his head to you in a sleepy way and looked at you with skepticism.

«What the hell am I doing?! You took our blanket and opened a fucking window in the middle of the night!»

You stared at him and finally Toji decided to share the blanket with you. You finally took a deep breath and covered yourself, but unfortunately started to snort.

«Shit»

«What?»

«I fucking hate you Toji»

You should have stood up and closed the window. Turns out there’s more than one.

Your boyfriend opened two.

He liked to sleep with the windows open, but you loved the warmth. Because of that you guys often had misunderstandings.

You stood on your legs and reached for the window handle to pull it up and close. Your smooth body is stretched out, leaving your tattoo along the spine.

«How often do I tell you that your new tattoo looks very sexy?»

Toji lay sideways, his head in his hand. He looked at your perfect body. Thin waist, beautiful back, tight buttocks, long legs and thin wrists.

«Um, probably a couple of hours ago when we got back and I started to change clothes and you decided not to hold back and fuck me a few times until I almost passed out?»

You closed the curtains and turned on the batteries to the maximum and were about to go back to bed, but saw that your man was lying unashamed, completely naked and grinning at you.

«What are you trying to say with this, Fushiguro? You have sex ban»

Toji came very close to you, completely shocked, but you ignored him and just sat in bed and closed your eyes to fall asleep again.

«What the fuck, woman?! Why? How long?»

«Until I change my mind»

Toji was going to object, but you stopped him.

«You left me naked without a blanket with an open window and now I’m fucking sick because of you, Toji. I have to get up early tomorrow, so leave me alone»

You turned your back to him and yawned, obviously tired and sleepy, to continue the dialogue with him.

Suddenly you felt the strong hands of your man grasp your waist and begin to gently stroke your stomach. His massive palms were warm compared to your slightly cold body. The way they warmed you, relaxed and lulled you. His other leg was placed on yours, and his head was placed on top of yours.

Toji was very warm and his touch to your body felt like a pleasure. He completely embraced your little body with his big one.

«I’m really sorry doll that I made you shiver from the cold. I must be that piece of fucking shit» He gently kissed you in the hair. «But please, cancel the sex ban. When I see you, I turn into a teenager without a girlfriend that is dreaming of his first time like today»

«Okay… Now shut up and sleep»

You whispered very quietly, half asleep, not even aware of what was said.

Toji did so. He became silent and drew you closer to him, closing his eyes. Under each other’s quiet breath, you both fell asleep.

[lymtw]

Toji and his shy girl cuddle fucking WHO SAID THAT

A/N: EEHEE I heard it too 🤭 Even if the echo took a while to reach me 😔 No, but really, I loved this! It's been a while since i've written out a request 😅 I'm excited to start trying some of these, again :)

Thank you for sending in this request 💙

Toji and His Shy Girl

"Hey, you," Toji says, grinning like a menace at the way your body minimally jolts, like he scared you. "You don't like me or something?"

You turn to look at him, a barely there crease between your brows. "What? I do. What do you mean?"

"I mean, why don't you wanna be with me? You're sitting on your own island over there, while i'm over here... all alone... feeling like chopped liver."

He's cute, you think. Playfully dramatic enough to make you giggle. It's always nice to know he wants you around, too, when you keep your distance to give him that choice.

"I just thought you would want some space, is all," you explain. "This is a pretty long movie, I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"Would sitting with me make you uncomfortable?" Toji asks.

"No," you respond, though the thought of sitting next to him or on him, has your heart rate picking up. Most of the time, Toji wants it to be the latter, and when this happens, it feels like he's peeking at your soul. You feel like every nerve in your body is tingling and like your skeleton is buzzing. You know he can sense your nervousness, most of the time, and yet he doesn't take it easy on you. His patience, his charm, and his irresistible way of trying to seduce you—none of it ever gets easier to withstand without you feeling flustered.

"You're comfortable, I'm comfortable. We're both comfortable, so, come closer, sweetheart." He sees hesitance flash through your features, before you finally give in and start inching closer.

"Come on. Closer, baby," Toji instructs, watching as you continue to inch towards him. "Look at all this space. Get rid of it."

He chuckles at the properness of your folded hands in your lap, when you sit on the edge of the couch cushion, in front of his legs. "You're gonna stop there and keep watching the movie all uncomfortable?"

"It's fine," you say, smiling at him before facing forward, again. You can feel him staring at you as you try to focus on the movie. His hand goes to your thigh, an act that has your heart beating rapidly in your chest, close to being heard in your ears. He tugs at your sweatpants, earning your attention.

"I'll spell it out for you, doll. I want you here, lying right in front of me. Wanna cuddle with you and shit." You return your gaze to the screen and though anybody would think that it's rude, because it seems like you're ignoring him, Toji knows what it means. He knows it's hard for you to hold eye contact with him, sometimes, and that you looking away gives you time to collect your thoughts and prepare what you want to respond with.

"But you won't be able to see the movie," you say, as a last ditch effort to let him enjoy the movie without obstructing his view and invading his personal space.

"We'll make it work. Just come here. Please?" He pats the spot in front of him, directing you to lie right where he wants you.

"Okay," you say, more to yourself than to him. You scoot down a little more, before lying down on your side, on the exact spot he said he was wanted you. In an instant, you're swallowed up by him. He pulls you in so that you're pressed up against him, his leg overlaps yours, and his face goes straight for your neck.

"T-Toji, I know you can't see the movie. I can go back, if you want."

"Mm-mm. Nope. It's all good. Got what I need," he assures, low against your neck, a hand planted on your stomach. "Pretty baby," he murmurs, pressing kisses onto your skin. "You smell so fucking good."

You feel like some sort of soothing toy for him, with the way any time you sit with him, you end up stealing his focus and withstanding the way he mouths at your skin and runs his hands all over you.

"You comfortable? Have enough space?" He asks, kissing your earlobe. You nod in response and he hums, a click of his tongue and a couple pats to your stomach, expressing his disapproval of the nonverbal confirmation. "Say it, baby. Yes or no?"

"Sorry. Yes, i'm comfortable," you confirm, in a manner more to his liking.

"Mm... you're so good to me, doll," Toji praises, adding a kiss to the appreciation.

He understands that sometimes it's difficult for you to say things out loud and you'll dismiss your own discomfort for the sake of not having to verbalize what is bothering you. It's why he's so adamant on hearing you talk, over seeing you nod or shake your head in response to things. He's working on this with you. He's heard 'sorry' so many times, now, and each time, he rejects your apology, deeming it unnecessary, because he knows you're trying.

Things are still for a few moments. You get fully comfortable, lying there on the couch, with Toji spooning you, and manage to refocus on the movie. His hand goes under your shirt, meeting the warmth of your skin. It's a gesture that disturbs the calmness of your heart, as well as your focus on the TV, again.

"This okay?" He asks, caressing your stomach, occasionally pinching it, gently.

"Mhm," you hum, in response, before pretending to pay attention to the movie. You're too distracted by the dragging of his fingertips and the goosebumps he lures onto your skin. You're sure he can feel them, too, because his hand starts wandering higher up your torso, like he wants to get more reactions from you. You shift minimally when his fingers slide beneath the elastic band of your sports bra, grazing the bottom part of your breast.

"Still comfortable?" Toji asks, keeping his hand still until he receives a response from you.

"Yeah... you're okay," you assure, once again, resting your hand on his forearm. Your breath hitches when his fingertips brush against your nipple. Toji grins at the involuntarily squeeze you offered his arm, finding amusement in the way your body reacts to his touch.

Toji chuckles, lowly, at all your sudden fidgeting. "Does that feel good, mama? Want me to keep going?" He asks, planting a kiss on your shoulder. You're not stopping him. If anything, he can feel you gently pushing his arm so that his entire hand goes up your bra. "It's alright. You can tell me," he says, encouraging you to respond.

"It feels good. Please..." Your soft voice halts, a shuddered exhale released through your nose.

"Mhm, give me more. Please, what?" He says, baiting a more elaborate response from you. "Just saying 'please' doesn't tell me what you need, pretty."

"Please... keep touching me." You cringe, internally, the second the words come out. You don't even realize how proud Toji is or get to indulge in the praise he offers, because you're too busy overthinking what you just said.

"That was perfect," Toji murmurs, scattering light kisses onto your neck. His enormous hand stretches your bra, and grabs ahold of your breast. "I'll give you anything you want, sweetheart. Anything. The trick is... you gotta ask for it."

That alone is enough to teach you another lesson on not always being able to get what you want. It's not always so easy for you to ask Toji for things. He's seen you get frustrated, because of this. It happens, even if your frustration is never loud and you don't raise your voice or throw a tantrum. It's quite the opposite. Too many questions to your initial request, results in you shaking your head, as if to say, 'never mind. I'll do it myself'. Having to repeat yourself too many times, gets a similar result. Even in times when he's just asking you to describe something more, you lose patience with yourself and your inability to communicate what you need, efficiently, and essentially give up on explaining it to him, doing it yourself, instead.

It's times like these that really help you out in that aspect. You want something that you can make yourself feel, but receiving it from Toji makes it so much better, because of the element of surprise. You give him access to your entire body and he gives you everything you could ever want in terms of pleasure. You never know where he's going to touch you and what he's going to touch you with.

"You understand?" Toji asks, seeking comprehension from you. A small whimper interrupts the silence of an expected response. "I know. Tell me," he encourages.

Your grip on his arm gets tighter and more of your restrained soft sounds reach his ears as he keeps rolling your stiffened peak between his fingers. You gasp when he shifts his attention to your other breast and writhe in his arms. "Y-Yes—please—yes, Toji. I understand."

"Sensitive thing." He chuckles. "Look at that little arch. Bet you're soaked, already, huh?"

"Oh... god, i'm sorry," you mumble, relaxing your back against him, again. You feel like you could implode with how much attention you're being given. You just want to shrink and hide under the couch, and just watch the rest of the movie from there.

"You're fine, doll. I know the slightest touch does a lot to you," he says, brushing over your nipple, knowing that your reaction will emphasize his point. "You nervous?"

You groan in response to the question and turn your head so that your face is planted in the pillow, earning another deep chuckle from Toji.

"I'm not gonna eat you, mama," he jokes, grinning at the way your body trembles with contained amusement. "I mean... I can't lie and say I haven't thought about it before. You're sweeter than any candy or cookie—even cake. You're sweeter than all of it, but I need you here with me, so I can't... I won't eat you, alright?" His method of getting you to lighten up worked enough to lure giggles from you. "Yeah, there you go. Relax. Just wanna love on you," he murmurs, pressing kisses to your shoulder. "Wanna make you feel good. You want that, gorgeous?"

Throughout your time with Toji, you've learned that he's a very hands on man. He's constantly seeking your warmth and softness, because physical touch is his love language and he'll put in the work to get you to comfortably connect with him that way, too. You find that sometimes when you're lying in his bed, ready for the sleep part of sleeping over, he'll stick his head up your shirt and just fall asleep like that on your chest. It's easy for him to relax when he can hear your heart wildly beating in your chest. Sometimes, randomly, when you're just sitting next to him, he'll pick you up and set you down on him, just to watch you get flustered when he starts talking to you within such a close proximity. He loves the way you scramble to escape his sight, always ending up with your face buried in his neck.

"Aw, don't go all quiet on me, now, pretty. You know better. Say what's on your mind." His hand slides out of your bra and goes back down to your stomach, the roughness of his palm rubbing your soft skin. You don't like making him beg for you. He's patient enough with your nervous tendencies, you know he doesn't deserve it.

"I want you, Toji," you say, softly. It's a huge contrast to the hammering going on in your chest and the annoying rhythm in your ears.

"Yeah? Keep fucking going, baby. How do you want me?"

"Please," you mumble, reverting back to the familiarity of simplicity.

"No, not like that. Give me a little more," Toji clarifies.

"I... I want you to touch me... and make me feel good. Want you to feel good, too."

You feel and hear the rumble of his laugh behind you, a sound that makes your fingertips tingle and your stomach erupt with butterflies all over again.

"You precious angel. You want me to fuck you?"

You don't know how long you can last with your heart beating so fast. It's a miracle that it hasn't exploded, with how it's almost always racing when you're around Toji.

You feel like your face is on fire, but you nod, and offer a soft, yet, clear, "yes, please," giving Toji the consenting words he's been listening closely for.

"Alright, ma. You just focus on the rest of the movie and i'll take care of you, 'kay?"

"Mhm," you hum, in response. You pull on the drawstring of your pajama bottoms and begin pulling them down with one hand. Toji watches with a sly smirk on his face as he feels you shift around, more of your skin coming into view. This is your effort. This is what makes him love you so damn much. You try for him. He knows your heart is probably in shambles, as you kick the article off and wait for what's to come, but you're showing him that you want this, and that means beyond everything to him.

"You're so perfect, my girl," he says, pressing kisses to your ear. "So, so perfect..." he trails off when his fingers meet the wetness of your panties. He was right. You're utterly soaked. His hand dips into your underwear, instantly greeted by your warmth as he keeps digging. Two fingers drag through your slit, back and forth, for just long enough to have you fidgeting as he collects a sample of your sweetness. Once your thighs attempt to shut around his hand, craving more, he pulls it out and admires the glossy coating on his fingers. Without hesitation, he brings the digits into his mouth, a low hum of satisfaction leaving him as he licks them clean. His cock is throbbing in his pants, straining mercilessly against his boxers as he savors the aftertaste of you on his tongue.

"Straight up fucking sugar," Toji murmurs, as he hastily starts pulling down his own pants, ready to get a feel of what he just tasted. There's a breathiness in his voice, urgency that you can't process, because you can barely believe he sounds that way after tasting you. Then you feel it—the monster he packs, pressing against you.

"I'm all hard, just for you, pretty," he murmurs in your ear, as he starts grinding his bulge against your ass. "Feel that?" He groans. "It's all for you. All yours." He plants a kiss on your neck and halts the movement of his hips against you. His hand returns beneath your shirt, a slow drag up your abdomen, towards your chest. His fingers dip beneath the elastic once more and splay over your breast, squeezing. He can feel the stutter in your chest as he feels up the entirety of it. You keep fidgeting against him, and he recognizes this as your way of saying you need more.

"You ready for me?" He asks, still toying with your stiffened, sensitive peaks.

"Ready," you respond, maintaining your voice as steady and clear as possible. You squeeze his hand through your shirt for deeper assurance.

Toji smiles softly at your little gesture and pulls his hand out of your shirt. Just as he did when he was directing his touch towards your chest, he follows the same path down, tracing your curves until his hand makes it way between your legs. He moves the gusset of your underwear aside, an act that has you shaking your foot against the couch cushion.

"Relax, sweet girl," Toji hums, a low chuckle following. He lowers his boxers enough to pull his throbbing, drooling cock out and smears the precum that beads on his tip all over his length. Once it's all covered he guides his tip to the warm, slick ridden space between your legs. After running it through your slit a few times, to hear the squelching sounds and your little whimpers when he catches your clit, he slowly starts sinking into you.

"There, baby," Toji murmurs. His warm palm rubs the softness of your stomach and he scatters wet little kisses on your shoulder and your neck, all while he continues feeding your cunt his inches. "You're so fucking cute," he coos, listening closely to the sound of your little whimpers and gasps. "Fuck..." he groans, once his hips are flush against you. He can feel the way you clench and flutter around his pulsing cock, making the fit even more snug for seconds at a time.

"All good, little lady?" He asks, pinching your goosebump covered stomach.

"Mhm," you hum, a chime of your giggle following.

Toji's hold on you is secure. He has you. Warm and gentle caresses and brushes of his fingers on your skin prove it, along with the way he languidly grinds his hips against you, as if to remind you that you're connected in the most physically intimate way. It's not like you could ignore it, anyway. You feel all of him. His warmth, his strength, his company. It's impossible to ignore Toji.

"This movie's pretty boring, huh?" He asks, not even paying attention to what's going on, like he hasn't been since you crawled into his arms.

"You're not even watching," you reason, smiling at the kisses he presses to your ear.

"Got a reaaally good distraction right in front of me." He buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent. "So warm and pretty and mmm... Can't focus on anything else," he purrs.

"It's okay. You can choose the next... the next one, too..." you gasp at the slow thrusts he offers. With every roll of his hips, his cock slides out just about halfway before sheathing back into the velvety warmth of your walls.

"I don't want to watch TV, anymore. Wanna watch you," he murmurs, monitoring your reactions to his movement. Every twitch, every shift of your legs against his. It's adorable, the way you push your face just a little bit more into the pillow when he tries to get a peek at you.

"Like that, baby?" He murmurs, a deep groan following. "Mhm? Yeah, I know," he says, like he's responding to your moan.

"Toji," you hum out, an unintentional amount of sultriness dripping off his name.

"Fucking- god,you sound so pretty, mama. Let me hear that again. Do it again."

His hips pick up the pace a little, just enough to coax more of those melodic sounds of yours. His hand dips lower, proceeding down the front of your underwear, his thick fingers gliding down towards your slippery clit. It doesn't take much of this electric addition to your pleasure to have you squirming and writhing against him. It's hard not to want to squish his hand between your thighs.

You whimper, a slight arch curving your back. Your clammy, shaky hands grip onto the couch cushion beneath you, your knuckles protruding from the force you put into your hold. You think he's on the brink of devouring you—absorbing you— with how he's holding you like you'll teleport into space if he lets go for a second.

"Say my name," he says, calmly, directly in your ear. "Call for me, sweetheart. Who's touching you? Who's making you feel like this?"

"T-Toji," you obediently pronounce, meekly, yet, to the man's utmost satisfaction.

"Again—fuck, baby—again," he groans, speeding up his fingers on your clit. He knows the motions spiked your pleasure because of how your body tensed up against him.

Sloppy kisses are pressed to your nape, as well as the side of your neck, where you know fully well that he must have left a plethora of marks already. You can hear the consistent sharp breaths he releases through his nose as he begins to desperately roll his hips into you, chasing what's coming up on him ridiculously fast. He's not aggressive—not entirely soft—but there's just enough movement to where you can hear a slight creak in the couch.

"Toji," you croon, softly. "T-Toji, Toji," you repeat, a high pitched whimper ending your little chain of his name.

"Oh, you're so fucking sweet, doll. So fucking sweet..." he mutters, his voice deep enough to make goosebumps spread anew, all over you. He hums at the feeling of your cunt erratically clenching around him. It's a tell tale sign—along with the frequency of your precious little sounds—of how you're right there, about to cum all over his twitching cock.

Toji loves how flustered you get when he has you tell him that you're about to cum, but he also loves the abruptness that comes with you being so overwhelmed by his touch and how he handles you, that for a few seconds you tense up and release all the sounds that bubble up in your chest, caving to the relentless amount of pleasure you feel without a warning.

"You're my pretty girl," Toji says, lowly, grinning when that's all it takes for you to gasp and arch off his front. Your body trembles and your thighs squeeze around his hand when his fingers continue to rub your clit. His tip just continues to prod at the sensitive spot within you, further intensify the sensation coursing through you. You're aware of how your moans have gotten louder and attempt to muffle them with the pillow, but your breathy little cries can be heard, regardless.

They spur on Toji's own release. His hand comes out of your underwear to avoid overstimulating you and glides up your abdomen, aiming towards your chest. He grabs ahold of one of your breasts, his hand smothering the entire thing as he squeezes and kneads it. You can hear his breathing grow heavier, his thrusts more punctuated, and a little faster in pace. The creaking of the couch is more frequent, as are his groans in your ear. His hold on you is tight. With his forearm having brought you back as close as you can be to him, you're locked in. With a few more thrusts, into your dripping wet warmth, he's spilling his load into you, breathy, deep voiced expletives tumbling off his lips as smears your gooey walls with all the warm, creamy substance.

"F-Fuck..." he groans, slowing the roll of his hips to a languid grind. "I got you," he says, chuckling at the gasp you let out from being filled even more. He drags unfocused, wet kisses over your shoulder and stills his hips entirely with a heavy breath. "Got you, mama." He loosens his hold on you, allowing you to breathe and move a little more freely. "Good?"

"Mhm. Good," you assure.

"Good. Gimme a kiss," he requests, smirking at the sound of your tittering. "What? You laughing at me 'cause I want a little smooch?"

"No," you say, through soft, but, more audible giggling.

"You promise?" He says, grinning at the slight tremble of your shoulders as your twinkles of laughter continue. "I'll let it slide, just this once. Now, give me a kiss, baby."

With a smile lingering on your face—the aftermath of your short giggle fit—you lie back a little and crane your neck as much as you comfortably can. Toji leans in the rest of the way and presses his lips to your sweet, lip balm layered ones, brushing them over and over as if he's parched and you're a glass of water. Both of your bodies react to the spark of desire reigniting through the gentle gesture. You can feel him throbbing inside you, while he can feel you clenching around him. His hand pawing at your chest makes butterflies swarm in your stomach and fuels the fluttering going on below.

You hear the dramatic background music of the movie's end credits and break the kiss, facing forward. You realize now that you paid just as much attention as he did—almost none—even when you agreed to keep watching as he touched you.

"Play another boring one," Toji says, behind you, already nipping at your ear, because your attention isn't solely on him anymore.

"But you won't watch it," you say, shuddering at the chill that runs down your spine, when you feel his lips behind your ear.

"That's the point."

[swytdoll]

𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆!𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮𝐼𝒮: toji’s bulking and you’re ovulating! how can you keep your hands to yourself when all you want to do is touch? 𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝐸𝒩𝒯 𝒲𝒜𝑅𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒢: any color can read<3 size difference (toji has a monster cock ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა), blowjob, female oral, choking, pussy slapping, unprotected sex, cream-pie, explicit language, mirror sex, 69, toji fucks you in a headlock ݁𖥔 ݁˖

BULKING!TOJI who always seems to be wearing the sluttiest clothing. muscle tees that grip his meaty arms enticingly, showing off every curve and bulge of his well-defined biceps. his sweats always seem to hang too low on his hips, revealing a dark happy trail that leads down to his waistband. the fabric clinging to his thick thighs.

BULKING!TOJI who religiously carries a protein shaker with him, even on date nights, because he's serious about his bulking diet. he’s got a variety of protein powders, from chocolate to vanilla, and he loves mixing them with different fruits and oats to keep things interesting.

BULKING!TOJI who loves trying out new high-calorie recipes and often ropes you into cooking massive meals with him. you two have fun experimenting in the kitchen, making everything from giant stacks of protein pancakes to hearty chicken and rice dishes, always ensuring they meet his caloric needs. he’s genuinely grateful. often, hugging you from behind while you cook, placing the sloppiest kisses behind your ears, his tattooed arms coiled around your frame. his gratitude is evident in the way he nuzzles into your neck, whispering sweet nothings about how much he appreciates your efforts. “i love you, y’know that. . .right?”

BULKING!TOJI who’s noticeably chubbier, you like it. really like it, often burying yourself into his pudgy side with a satisfied sigh. “i could die like this.”

BULKING!TOJI who despite his intense workouts, always makes time to cuddle and watch movies, using you as his favorite "recovery" time. he loves resting his head on your lap while you binge-watch your favorite series, feeling your fingers run through his hair as he relaxes. “i hate this scene.”

BULKING!TOJI who gets annoyed and sleeps on the couch when you won’t stop playing with his tits. “you’re so damn annoying.”

BULKING!TOJI who you make sure has a secret stash of snacks in his gym bag for when he needs extra calories on the go. protein bars, nuts, and dried fruits are his go-to, and he always has a little something to munch on between sets or during quick breaks.

have a good workout<3 - signed your amazing beautiful girlfriend

BULKING!TOJI who becomes an expert at meal prepping, and his mini fridge is always stocked with containers of chicken, rice, and veggies. each container meticulously measured to ensure he gets the right amount of protein, carbs, and fats, and he takes pride in his perfectly organized fridge.

BULKING!TOJI who likes wearing your crop tops, flexing in front of the mirror. “take it off! you’re stretching my shit toji.” “no.”

BULKING!TOJI who can’t resist squeezing your face in his bicep, laughing as your chubby cheeks push together. “haha!”

BULKING!TOJI who just throws you over his shoulder during arguments. “i’ll put you down when you’re done being a brat.”

BULKINGTOJI! who thinks it’s dumb as you tie a pink ribbon around his wrist, demanding he stay still. he thinks it’s even dumber when you record it, the video boasting one-million likes on tiktok. “they loveeeeee you!”

BULKING!TOJI who’s entire hand covers your face. jeez, your poor cunt, he thinks.

BULKING!TOJI who can’t help but admire the way your swollen sticky lips suckle at his thick cock, pulling him back in greedily. usually, it’d take some time for him to ease into your tiny hole. but, you were ovulating today and after seeing your boyfriend walking around shirtless with nothing but boxers on, you practically jumped his bones.

BULKING!TOJI who presses all his weight onto you as he fucks your soppy pussy, the pressure in your back dull as he prods into that sweet spot from behind. pale veiny hands pull your cheeks apart, spreading you, revealing your puckering hole. a glob of warm spit followed by his thumb lubricating your asshole has you arching your back in anticipation. “papaaaa,” glossy eyes squeeze shut as he gently sinks his thumb into your asshole, pelvis relentlessly slapping into your sore ass. the sight has his dick twitching, “humph, look so pretty with both holes filled.”

BULKING!TOJI who doesn’t care that you’re overstimulated, rocking his dick into your tight velvety walls at a mean pace. you don’t know how many orgasms the man has yanked from you. “i know baby, doing so good. takin’ all of me like a big girl, fuckkkk.” glazed eyes watching the way you glisten on him as he folds you against the wooden headboard, your legs flush to your chest. “tojiiii,” you whine, he could get drunk off the way you whimper his name. “am i deep baby?” he groans, thick cream building on his base. “mhm!”

BULKING!TOJI who has you in the nastiest headlock, one hand wrapped around your throat, the other forcing you to look into the mirror. you’re a mess, disheveled hair, tear-stained cheeks, swollen lips. the man’s so fucking huge he covers your entire body. “unt, unt. eyes open beautiful.” he sends a particularly deep thrust that has you shivering. slick, slick, slick, a repetitive noise that has him grunting deeply into your ear.

BULKING!TOJI who eats your pussy while you suck his dick. it’s a struggle taking him, drool seeping down your chin as you slurp at the veiny masterpiece. it’s also a struggle to concentrate as he eats you out like a starved man, spitting, slapping, fingering. god, you’re gonna cum again. “cummin!”

BULKING!TOJI who watches as his cum trickles out of your pulsing hole, pushing it back inside with a frown. “stay.”