you wake up with one hell of a headache. a deep, pulsing throb behind your eyes that feels like someone someone wedged a subwoofer in your skull and set it to a steady, torturous bassline. sunlight slants across your face in a cruel slice. there was a frat party. that much you can piece together. too many neon shots. someone funnelling vodka through a plastic sword. you groan, drag a palm down your face, and pray you didn’t do anything catastrophically stupid.

you shift your arm, trying to coax life back into the limb that went numb under your own weight. it bumps into something warm. human warm. a sinking dread coils low in your gut, worsened by the pleasant soreness between your legs. you recall him in disjointed flashes. unnatural hair colour. an uppity, spoiled temperament but those pretty-boy features had half the sorority queuing for a chance at his attention. that gives you an idea. very slowly, you turn your face to see none other than naoya zen’in, sleeping beside you. no fucking way. absolutely not. there is no universe where you voluntarily—

you swallow, preparing to silently climb out of this disaster, when a warm exhale ghosts across the nape of your neck. great. you turn your head the other direction and your soul flatlines.

cajoling your boyfriend proved to be even more onerous than you'd expected. At first you thought a few bribery and teasing would do the trick but would you have thought it'd end up with you caving in completely, like literally, from how hard he was pounding into you?

halloween was just around the corner and you'd been anticipating to bring your boyfriend of three months to your neighbourhood's annual Halloween trick-or-treat event (maybe to show him off and to assure your neighbours that the commotion coming from your home especially at night was no cause for alarm). But Toji Zenin— unsurprisingly stubborn and a spoilsport—was not convinced. Still, you were insistent on going even if you had to drag his dead body there yourself. ( it would serve as a pretty interesting prop )

yet you were sprawled on the sheets hours into the event, the ironed costumes now wrinkled and abandoned at the corner of the room. The milky translucent raincoats rustled and the rubberized plastic axe props you bought from target propped up between the corners of the headboard and the wall. the banging of the headboards against the wall now muffled in great consideration of your next-door neighbours.

your pussy juices were spritzing as he plunged into you. You planted both your palms onto his sweat-glistened chest, a feeble attempt to push him away, in contrast to the way your cunt was pulling him in and clenching around his hard length, welcoming and desperate, siphoning all his essence as he released yet another hot viscous load into you. His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, voice deep and coarse as he whispered, "pathetic, don't you think? Two grown adults going up to strangers' doors," he scoffs. "begging for candy?"

he was dragging this out like the way he was dragging his cock out of your system before he slammed back in again, merciless and unforgiving, hollowing you out like the way those pumpkins displayed right on your porch was carved out the night before. he rolled his hips against your nub once more, slow and teasing, eliciting a piteous mewl from you.

a familiar weight sets onto your lower body. As if it was jostling you, your body jerks and your back arches, crescent-shaped. Dazed and delirious, as you stared up at the ceiling, too helpless and worn out as he continued fucking you through the aftershocks.

Toji doesn't pull out for he was going to continue this for as long as Halloween had not yet passed. He wasn't going to go trick-or-treating alongside a bunch of kids, "posers" he said, unfunny and not the least bit of terror in their costumes. At some point when he said that, you pouted as you glanced at the matching Patrick bateman costumes you'd laid out on the bed but he fucked the brattiness out of you before it even burgeoned in that pretty mind of yours.

love-smitten!toji who gets a migraine just by reading one line of text, let alone read a whole book. He groans in pain as he stares blankly at the ocean of words. Smashing the heel of his hands to his temple, he tries to knock the words back to its place. Stupid dyslexia. Stupid him for getting himself to this predicament after he caught a glimpse of the books you're reading so indulgently. The books ain't cheap y'know.

love-smitten!toji whose ass perk up and start wagging in your face when you agreed to watch his football matches with him. Even though he knows you aren't really paying attention to those matches. He just needs you right and then in his arms, enveloped in your warmth and your scent. That's just how he likes to spend his off-days.

love-smitten!toji who literally purrs and falls asleep—face planted onto your chest and hefty arms wrapped around your waist— while your hands are busy working the shampoo into a rich lather, massaging it into his scalp. "Ma, can you use the cherry-scented shampoo you use all the time? I need to smell like you," he murmurs as he drifts into a slumber.

love-smitten!toji who grasps the bruise-coloured stretch of flesh, squirming and squealing helplessly in his fist as he tries to groom those greasy, wiry tufts of hair on its otherwise bald crown, puff up its face with loose powder before your next date after that day when you screamed in horror at the mere sight of the hideous creature wrapped around his neck. You kept a respectable distance from toji and that for the whole day, which to say the least was agony for toji.

older bf!toji shaking his head when you ask for a sip of his beer, lecturing you on the harmful effects of drinking alcohol, liver cirrhosis, brain damage blah blah blah while he’s full-on chugging down bottles of beers.

older bf!toji who stops you halfway when you’re sinking down onto his cock, worried that he’d be too big for you, the what-ifs roaming freely in his mind if you actually took him whole. What if you split into half? What if he ruptures your cervix when he goes too deep? What if your vagina tears?

older bf!toji who would just play with your clit, hands tucked in your underwear when you’re feeling horny and whiny for him because he’s just too cowardly to fuck you, petrified he’d hurt you.

older bf!toji whom you just trust so much to buy your lingeries, undergarment and feminine products due to his myriad of experience and knowledge. He knows your flow intensity and which pad lengths to buy. He also buys the undergarments with non-toxic fabrics that support your vaginal health. Cuz he knows better than to neglect this pussy that he adores so much.

older bf!toji who is just too old for this shit, he has no more energy to argue and bicker with you so he lets you do whatever the fuck you want with him. Wear matching thongs with you…whatever. Give him a buzz cut…bleh okay. Act as your personal armchair…no problem. Act as your personal loofah??? Say less.

older bf!toji who sits back and let you treat his cock like a fidget toy. Manspreading on the couch as you juggle his balls, fling his cock around however you want, pull on the foreskin and suck on it however you want.

older bf!toji who would grip the back of your head, tugging your hair up as you tried to take on his full length. Glancing down at your watery eyes, slick and swollen lips and the drool dripping down your chin, “nuh uh pretty girl, you know you’ll gag and choke trying to take it whole.”