#ultimate fine shyttt

[eraserbread]

so, you fucking hate toji fushiguro.

its everything about him, his values don't align with yours, he's cruel, talks to you like you're nothing, and only calls and texts on his time.

oh, he's away on a job? you won't hear from him in days. he surely doesn't have the decency to drop off money or food to megumi and tsumiki before he leaves. he always shrugs it off, saying: "it's not my job to take care of the brats."

so, why, if you hate him so much, can you never, ever say no?

if you can't stand his selfish nature, why is he standing in your living room, back turned to you, hands pressed to his hips?

you drop the paper grocery bag in your hand, it shatters the quiet environment. toji's head turns over his shoulder.

"just got back from feeding your children, don't mind me." you bite, tone laced with exhaustion and annoyance.

all he can do is chuckle -- laugh right in your face. "c'mon. don't be mean t'me,"

"i hate you, toji. i hate that you always come back.” you fling your purse and keys onto the floor, feet grinding into the wood as you approach him.

he’s looking at you now. can’t hide that smirk on his face when the ritual begins again. “yeah? hate me harder next time. then, the kids won’t have anyone to give a damn about them when i’m gone.”

“take off your clothes.” you growl into his lips, kissing him like a parched desert cat. he was so fucking terrible and cruel, but your body craves him. you dream about him. the sexual chemistry is staggering. it’s why you love his megumi like your own — god knows he deserves it, too.

“but, mama i’m hungry too. you got a mind to share?”

“just - shut up and take them off.”

he’s actually obedient, taking the tie of his pants and pulling it loose. he never wears underwear, so the heavy, brazen sight of his cock, already half hard for you, is normal.

this venomous exchange is normal.

he fucks you while you’re spewing hatred towards him, bent over in the kitchen with your dress hiked at the waist. he has your face buried in the cool countertop with a hand to your throat. it’s hard to breathe, but you never want him to stop.

you want to feel his body inside yours, scrambling your insides to mush all the time. it’s a feeling you can’t live without — fiend over and beg for. toji’s just happy to get his dick wet and loves the way you curse at him.

“right there — yeah. arch your back like a fucking slut, mama. god, you drive me crazy.” his thick hand slaps down on your ass, parting your cheeks so he can see the way his cock enters you so passionately. he’s puppeteering you like this, his words the only string you need to bend and bow to his every desire.

you curse him when you cum, creaming hotly around him until there’s no more fight in your bones. the after- sex guilt hits like a ton of bricks even when he’s fucking you like a toy. now, his only mission is getting himself off.

but, he still wants you present.

“the fuck ‘r you thinking about?” he growls, lifting your head with a fistful of hair. his muscles flex as he tugs you up, twisting his fist to get a better grip.

“cause no one’s gonna fuck you like i can.”