Toji Fushiguro x Female Reader
This Isn’t How Coffee Dates Go
The morning had started slow with the sunlight cutting through the clouds warming your skin as you sat at a quaint outdoor café nestled on a quiet side street. You were going to dress casually, but Toji had insisted you wear the soft lavender sundress he liked—the one that clung just right and low enough to tease but still left to the imagination.
He had said it was his treat today, his idea to finally take you out on a proper date. It’s been a long while…You’d both been swamped with sorcery work, missions, and that cursed scroll that nearly blew up the last apartment you stayed in. But today? Just coffee. A little peace.
Toji had gone inside to get your drinks, muttering about grabbing that chocolate croissant you always looked at but pretended not to want.
That man knew you too well.
You waited outside, arms crossed, legs curled slightly beneath your chair, wedding ring gleaming in the sun. Everything felt… right.
Too bad it was short-lived.
You were scrolling absently through your phone, the sun warming your bare shoulders as you waited for Toji to return. From the corner of your eye, you noticed them—three men hovering just beyond the patio’s edge. You hoped they’d ignore you, just pass by like any normal group of strangers.
But you were sadly mistaken.
All in their early twenties maybe, loud, cocky, with a swagger that screamed insecurity wrapped in discount cologne. One of them spotted you, nudged the others, and walked up with a sleazy smile.
“Hey there, beautiful,” one purred, leaning against the table like he belonged. “You waiting on someone—or are we lucky today?”
You didn’t even blink. “I’m married.”
He gave your ring a cursory glance and laughed, low and dismissive. “Yeah? I don’t see him here.”
Another leaned closer, eyes shamelessly roaming. “You’re too fine to be sitting all alone. That dress… mm, you were asking for attention.”
You gritted your teeth. The burn in your gut wasn’t from embarrassment—it was rage. You could level them. Bend their knees backward, shatter a jaw or two. But you didn’t. Not in front of civilians. You couldn’t risk such a lovely day by going overboard, even if these bastards were practically begging for it.
“I said,” you said calmly, fingers twitching, “I’m married. You should leave.”
They didn’t. They laughed. One even tried to reach for your hand—
“I suggest you move that hand unless you want to lose it,” came the low, grating growl behind them.
You didn’t even have to look.
Toji had returned, iced coffee in one hand, black cold brew in the other, his muscles stretching beneath his dark shirt. His emerald eyes were shadowed and calm but his mouth was strained, pulled tight in a forced grin that didn’t reach his eyes—he was furious, barely holding it back.
One guy looked back and froze. The second guy dropped his smirk. The third? He took a cautious step back, like he could feel something shift—something primal and dangerous coiling in the air.
The weight in his stare was bone-deep. Menacing in that quiet, I-could-end-you-without-blinking kind of way.
“You creeps deaf?” Toji hissed, his voice low and lethal. “That’s my wife you’re hovering over.”
One of them scoffed, clearly too idiotic to catch on. “Relax, man. We were just talking. It’s not like she was saying no.”
Toji’s smile was slow and cruel, the kind that made your skin crawl if it wasn’t meant for you.
“She did,” he said, voice calm as a blade unsheathing. “You just didn’t listen.”
The guy bristled. “Tch. You’re gonna fight me over a girl?”
Toji stepped forward, just once. One slow, deliberate step. The power behind it was all controlled, but his energy shifted like a predator switching gears.
“Fight you?” he echoed, tilting his head with mock curiosity. “Nah. I don’t waste effort on worms. But you really want to test me over my wife?”
His voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to. Each word sank in like venom, slicing through the cocky persona that held them upright.
“She didn’t want your attention. She said she was married. And you still acted like she was free game.” He leaned closer, eyes dark. “See, that’s not confidence. That’s desperation. And I don’t like desperate men hovering over what’s mine.”
The third guy—who’d taken a step back earlier—finally cracked. “Let’s go, man. He’s… he’s not worth it.”
“You’re right,” Toji replied flatly, still watching them like a bored apex predator. “I’m not.”
That was all it took. They turned fast—one muttering something under his breath, another tripping over the leg of a patio chair, and the last bolting like he’d seen a damn monster looming behind him.
Only after they were gone did Toji move, finally walking to your table and setting the drinks down with a heavy clink. His jaw was still tight, his gaze lingering in the direction they fled.
You didn’t speak right away. Just reached for your cup and exhaled slowly, the tension in your chest easing. You hadn’t needed to act—Toji had handled it without lifting a hand, and that alone was enough to settle the storm beneath your skin. Relief anchored you now.
“Thanks,” you muttered, your voice barely above a breath.
Toji didn’t answer right away. He grabbed the empty chair next to you and dragged it close, the scrape of metal against pavement sharp in the quiet. He sat down with his body angled toward you, knee pressed against yours in a silent, grounding touch. Without a word, he reached out and took your hand, his calloused fingers curling around it firmly.
His thumb traced over your wedding ring—slow, deliberate, possessive. Like he was reminding both of you that it meant something, even if those bastards had ignored it.
“They didn’t even care about the ring,” he said, voice dark and low like distant thunder. “Disrespectful little shits.”
His grip on your hand tightened just slightly, not to hurt—but enough to let you feel it. That quiet fury. That promise: they wouldn’t have gotten any further. The air around him still crackled with residual heat, but beneath it was something steadier—protective, unwavering. He wasn’t angry at you. He was angry for you.
You met his gaze, his eyes still sharp but softer now that they were on you. “I didn’t want to cause a scene,” you murmured, your voice calm, but laced with the tension you hadn’t quite shaken off.
Toji’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smirk as he brushed his thumb once more over your ring. “Good thing I don’t mind causing one.”
Without warning, his hand rose from your thigh and gently tilted your chin toward him, his touch deceptively tender—until his mouth descended, hot and possessive, pressing firmly against the soft skin just beneath your jawline. His lips were warm, but it was the deliberate way his teeth grazed you—followed by a slow, unrelenting suck—that made your breath catch.
Heat bloomed under your skin as his mouth lingered, claiming you in a way that was far from subtle. Your eyes darted around—across the café patio, the nearby tables, the passing strangers. You could feel stares even if they weren’t there. Or maybe they were. That only made the flush racing up your neck burn hotter.
“Toji!” you hissed, voice sharp and breathless.
He didn’t stop. If anything, he smirked against your skin, his tongue flicking over the fresh mark before finally pulling back—slow, almost lazy. “Hmm?” he hummed, the vibration of his voice still echoing in your throat. “Problem, sweetheart?”
“We’re outside! People can see!”
Toji leaned back just enough to look at his work, his hand still resting on your cheek like he was holding something delicate. The hickey he’d left behind was unmistakable—dark, deep, blooming like a bruise kissed into existence. Right where no one could miss it.
His grin widened into something feral, satisfied.
“Good,” he murmured, brushing his thumb along your jaw. “Now no one will believe you’re single after this.”
You were burning, your whole face ablaze, torn between swatting him away and curling closer into his touch. The PDA was bold, reckless, embarrassing—but the way he looked at you? Like you were his whole damn world?
It made your heart race for an entirely different reason.
Cheeks on fire, you tried to hide behind your hand, shooting him a flustered glare as your other hand swatted lightly at his arm. Toji only laughed under his breath, reaching up to trail a knuckle across your lower lip, eyes gleaming with amusement.
“Shit, I missed that look. You’re cute when you’re mad.”
You pouted, sipping your drink in flustered silence. He watched you the whole time, practically vibrating with the urge to touch you more. You knew that look—the way his eyes lingered on your thighs, the curve of your neck, the rise and fall of your chest.
“Toji…” you said cautiously.
He tilted his head. “Yeah?”
“You’re looking at me again.”
“I’ve been looking at you all day, baby.” He leaned closer, voice dipping dark and hungry. “And I’ve been thinking about everything I’m gonna do to you once we get home.”
That was your warning.
Except… you didn’t even make it that far.
Toji waited just long enough for you to finish your drink, watching you with that telltale glint in his eyes—the one that always spelled trouble. The moment you set the empty cup down, he stood abruptly, grabbed your hand, and tugged you up with a quiet, firm, “Come on.”
You barely had time to blink. “Wait, what? Where are we—”
He didn’t answer you. Just kept walking with that purposeful stride, his grip on your hand unwavering. You stumbled a bit to keep up, eyes wide as he turned sharply into a quiet side street—then ducked into a narrow alley between two buildings, hidden from the main road by shadows and a half-cracked maintenance gate.
Before you could ask another question, he stopped, backed you against the cool brick wall, and braced one arm beside your head, the other settling low on your waist. His body caged you in, so close you could feel the heat rolling off him, his breath brushing against your cheek.
“Here?!” you gasped, heart racing, glancing toward the mouth of the alley. “You’re seriously—”
Toji leaned in, his lips grazing the shell of your ear as he murmured, voice all gravel and heat, “Can’t wait.”
Your breath hitched, spine straightening as your palms pressed lightly to his chest. “Toji—people—what if someone—”
He turned your chin with two fingers, forcing your gaze back to his. His eyes were heavy-lidded, dark with intent, and that wicked smirk curled at the edge of his mouth.
“Then be quiet, sweetheart,” he said, low and firm, his tone sending a shiver straight through you.
There was no reasoning with this man. Not when he was like this. Not when his entire focus had narrowed to you and the way your body already trembled with anticipation.
Your breath hitched, caught between shock and desire. Your hands pressed against his chest unsure whether you were trying to push him away or silently begging him to come closer.
“I can’t believe you… we’re in public!” you hissed, cheeks burning hotter than the sun overhead.
Toji didn’t even flinch. He leaned in, lips brushing the corner of your mouth like he had all the time in the world, like the risk of being caught only made it sweeter.
You clenched your thighs involuntarily, heat pooling deep in your core. Your voice came out in a strangled whisper, helplessly breathy. “Then make it quick.”
He let out a low, hungry chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest and against your fingertips. “Good Choice.”
Before you could even catch your breath, his hand was beneath your dress—rough and warm against your skin, sliding along your inner thigh with purpose. The contrast made your entire body jolt.
You gasped, fingers instinctively tightening on his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. The alley spun around you, your senses tunneling down to the feel of him, the heat of him.
“Toji!” you whispered harshly, voice caught between reprimand and need. “You’re insane—”
He grinned against your jaw, the stubble on his cheek scraping just enough to make you shiver.
“And you love it,” he growled, fingers finally brushing over your already aching core. “Don’t lie to me now, sweetheart.”
You hated how right he was. Hated how good it felt. And yet—you wouldn’t stop him for anything.
His lips crashed against yours again—dominant, hungry, claiming you like he’d been starved for this exact moment. He swallowed every soft gasp, every breathy whimper you tried to stifle, his tongue parting your lips to taste the heat you couldn’t hide.
His hand slid beneath your dress without hesitation, fingers hooking your panties and pushing them aside with practiced ease. Fingers sliding between your folds, slow and deliberate. You were soaked, throbbing with need, already too far gone to feel shame.
“Fuck, baby…” he hissed against your mouth, his breath ragged. “You’re dripping. What, that hickey got you this worked up?”
You couldn’t answer. Not when his fingers curled inside you, his thumb pressing gently against your clit in slow, torturous circles that made your thighs shake.
“Toji…” you choked out, hips bucking against his hand, needing more.
He chuckled darkly, voice thick with lust as he pumped his fingers deeper, slower. “Such a good little wife. So fuckin’ ready for me.”
You clung to his shoulders, nails digging into his shirt, your mouth falling open against his neck as heat bloomed beneath your skin. He knew every nerve, every reaction, every breathless moan you’d try to hide. You felt like you were unraveling in his hands.
“Toji—ah—someone might see—” you whispered, panic and pleasure woven together.
He pulled your leg up around his hip, gripping your thigh tight as he pressed you harder against the wall. You barely heard the zip of his jeans over the sound of your beating heart.
“Then let ‘em,” he growled. “Let ‘em fuckin’ see who you belong to.”
Your eyes widened. “Toji, wait…”
But there was no waiting.
With one sharp thrust, he buried himself inside you—deep, thick, hard. The sudden fullness knocked the air from your lungs, your gasp swallowed instantly by his mouth as he kissed you through it, keeping you pinned between his body and the brick.
He didn’t ease you in. He took you. And you let him.
His rhythm was fast, brutal, almost punishing—but your body welcomed every thrust. Your back arched against the wall, dress hiked up around your hips, his hips slamming into yours with a need that bordered on feral. His grip on your ass was possessive, fingers digging in so hard you knew there’d be bruises later. His mouth trailed down your neck, biting and kissing, leaving more marks, staking his claim with every inch of you.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned against your skin. “So fuckin’ tight. You’re made for me… made to take me like this.”
Your moans came out soft, desperate—muffled by the way he kept your lips occupied or pressed you into his shoulder. The stretch, the pressure, the intensity—it all had your body trembling around him. Your walls clamped down, clenching, drawing him deeper.
“Toji… please…” you breathed, voice trembling. You didn’t even know what you were begging for—release, mercy, more.
Maybe all of it.
He growled low, primal. “That’s it, sweetheart. Come for me.”
His pace hit that perfect rhythm, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit with every hard thrust, his free hand gripping your thigh tighter around his waist. You couldn’t hold back anymore—not with the way he was filling you, breaking you open, loving you in the only way Toji knew how: completely, unapologetically, and utterly possessive.
Your climax tore through you—all-consuming. You shook in his arms, your body clenching down around him as he fucked you through every pulsing wave of it. Desperate to stifle your moans, you bit down on his shoulder, muffling the cry that threatened to spill out into the alleyway.
Toji froze for a beat—his jaw flexed, his breath hitching sharply—and when he looked at you, his eyes were dark and blown wide, mouth twitching into a crooked, feral grin.
“Fuck,” he groaned, voice low and wrecked. “You just bit me.”
You whimpered against the skin of his neck, too breathless to speak.
He didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he loved it. The heat in his gaze deepened, and he drove into you even harder, as if your bite had only fueled him further.
“You’re lucky that felt so damn good,” he growled, lips brushing your temple. “Do it again, and I might lose my fuckin’ mind.”
His fingers dug into your thigh as he held you there, gaze locked on your face—your lashes fluttering, your lips bruised from his kisses, your whole body still trembling from the aftermath. The way you bit him, clung to him, moaned his name into his skin pushed him right to the edge.
He shifted his grip, hand sliding to the back of your neck, foreheads nearly touching as his pace grew rougher, deeper, chasing his own release with single-minded hunger.
“Such a good girl,” he growled, voice raw and strained. “Fuck—you feel so damn good.”
With one final, punishing thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and came with a deep, guttural grunt, his hips shuddering against yours. Your name spilled from his lips like a prayer, wrecked and reverent. He ground into you as he emptied himself, thick and warm, his breath ragged in your ear.
The alley was silent but for your shared panting breaths, bodies still pressed tight, your chest rising and falling against his. He stayed there, forehead pressed gently to yours, as if grounding both of you back into reality.
“…Well,” you finally mumbled, voice shaky, your face still flushed. “… there goes our cafe date.”
Toji chuckled, low and smug, brushing a hand through your hair before tucking a few strands behind your ear. His thumb brushed your lower lip with the same tenderness that contradicted everything filthy he’d just done to you.
“Nah,” he said, eyes still dark with satisfaction. “This was way better.”
Then, with all the smugness in the world, he added:
“You’re lucky I let you finish your drink first.”
You smacked his chest, breathless and embarrassed.
“Shut up,” you mumbled, face still flushed, lips kiss-bitten and trembling.
Toji chuckled, then gently eased you down from where he had you pinned, his strong hands steadying your waist before reaching down to adjust the hem of your dress—fingers brushing over your thighs with a little too much fondness to be innocent.
He straightened up and zipped his jeans without a hint of shame, still grinning like the devil. “What? I’m just sayin’—you married a menace, sweetheart.”
Your knees wobbled slightly when you took a step, and without missing a beat, he offered you his arm. You took it, silently grateful, letting him pull you close into his side.
Together, you stepped out of the alley—your hand in his, your heart still racing—as if nothing had happened, except for the mark he’d left on your neck and the undeniable warmth still leaking between your legs.
…
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