[K]AMARANTH.

With a leisurely stretch and squeaky yawn you sat up, adjusting the sunglasses perched on your nose. You frowned for a moment, scanning the table beside you for your sunhat before recalling it was already positioned on your head.

“Too many drinks,” you mumbled to yourself.

With a little sway to your step you dragged yourself to your feet, snatching up the dregs of your piña colada as you retreated into the welcoming cooled air of your penthouse. Just as you crossed the threshold, you heard the telltale hum of your husband’s voice, drawing closer to the living area. He was likely just returning from the monthly meetings the company held; this one in particular had lasted just over a week which was quite out of the ordinary. At most, the gatherings took three days, but apparently this time there had been more to discuss. The only reason you were even aware of his delay was through your own endeavours; after your spouse’s impromptu absence during a fundraising event a couple nights prior.

Now however, he emerged from the hallway, stepping into your reception room with a small entourage surrounding him. Your husband entered first, a look of blatant irritation directed towards your tipsy, half dressed demeanour. To his left was Naoya, his younger brother and an individual you held no warm feelings towards. Your brother-in-law was a somewhat despicable character, who made his disdain towards women in general one of his glaring traits. Only when it suited him, however, as he now shamelessly ogled you with a narrowed auburn gaze. On the other side of your husband stood a stark contrast; Toji Fushiguro, his elder cousin.

Toji slightly surpassed your husband in stature, and greatly surpassed him in build. Where your husband was more lean, Toji was filled out a little more, with broad shoulders and a physique that was visible even beneath the plain, baggy shirt he now wore. His eyes were uncut emeralds, glinting in the fractured light from the windows, fixing you with a familiar cold stare.

The man was an enigma. On account of his few and far between appearances, you’d never uttered more than a few words to him in conversation. Toji was unfriendly, in all honesty. A towering beast of a man, whose ego filled the heavy silence warped by his words. Over a few encounters, you slowly observed that he never lowered his chin to converse with you, instead opting to watch you down the slope of his nose. And even so, the man made your thighs ache in wanton need. You tried to ignore it at first, doing everything within you to hold a shred of respect for your sham of a marriage. But the stronger you resisted, the more twisted your desire became; his green eyes haunted you in your dreams, scarred lips flitting through your mind in the quiet moments of your waking hours and growing that seed of sin.  

For all your unhinged obsession, the man couldn’t care less about you. It was as if you were invisible, a plight in his day, and it drove you insane. You craved his attention, restlessly and fruitlessly searching for a crack in his demeanour. The handful of times you exchanged words, his brooding nature and air of indifference widened the chasm between the two of you. Still, you chose not to take it personally. It became apparent with more run ins he was the same with everyone. Even now, he only acknowledged your presence when your husband spoke.

“Wife,” he greeted through gritted teeth. “I thought you would be out.”

It took you a split second to assess the situation, eyes fixing on your husband’s tense shoulders and Naoya’s clenched jaw. Even Toji’s reemergence, as much as it intrigued you, didn’t bode well. Something had happened.

“Yes, yes,” you sighed dramatically, cocking a hip and sipping from the rapidly deteriorating paper straw. “I was supposed to be, but then I heard about your arrival and just had to be here to see you.”

“Well, I’m here,” your husband deadpanned, steely gaze fixed on your hazy eyes and clammy skin. “You’ve seen me, and me and my family members have seen you.”

It didn’t take an idiot to decipher the unpleasant meaning behind his words. You were sure you’d be getting an earful of that later. But still, you couldn’t brush the niggling feeling at your neck. “Why are you in such a rush? It’s been too long since I’ve had the pleasure of being in the company of family.”

You were doing an excellent job at winding your husband up, it seemed. He’d been around you too long to fall victim to the simpering persona you’d adorned for your guests, but the act was never for him.

Naoya clapped his hands together, breaking the rapidly building tension between you and your spouse with an ill-natured grin. “She’s right, brother. Let me at least greet my sister-in-law.”

It was unpleasant, having to endure the feeling of his cool, wandering hands around your waist, but you swallowed the urge to shove him away in the name of mischief. As you peeked over Naoya’s shoulder you glimpsed your spouse growing even more angry, his brow furrowed in displeasure at the sight of you, half naked, in the arms of another man. Even when that man was his own blood.

“Toji,” you smiled warmly after breaking away from Naoya’s clutches. “It’s lovely to see you again,”

The man grunted, barely passing you a second glance. You’d already established that your feminine wiles seemed to have less of an impact on him, but you expected no less – it wasn’t the first time you’d tried your hand at bending the man to your will. Despite that, you felt the prickling feeling of his cold stare on you as you tossed your hair over a shoulder, looking back at your husband. “Something’s happened.”

In truth, you weren’t expecting an answer, and your expectations were duly met.

Your husband scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. “Nothing of your concern. More importantly, would you mind excusing us for a moment?”

You indiscreetly rolled your eyes, making a pointed effort to adjust your bikini top. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you to it.”

Prodding at your husband’s temper brought you a certain satisfaction, but even you understood too well the importance of appearances, and placed a swift kiss on his cheek as you retreated. Another glance over your shoulder had you locking eyes with Toji, who watched you with an indecipherable expression on his face. You smiled coyly before disappearing around the corner.

“Well, that was—”

“Naoya. You touch my wife again and I’ll break your jaw.”

A couple of hours later, you were showered and perfumed, applying the finishing touches to your makeup. After being dismissed by your husband, it became more apparent to you that you had no desire to stay locked away like a child being punished. You’d already called off the gathering with your friends in hopes of gleaning new information, but after that failed a quick phone call arranged something new for the evening.

You were clad in a backless evening gown, hair arranged meticulously and makeup highlighting your best features. A sheer scarf draped across your shoulders, fluttering in the air as you whisked yourself down the stairs. As you expected, your husband and his company were still in the living room, engaged in what looked like a riveting discussion.

The clip clop of your heels announced your arrival before you did, bringing their heated conversation to a halt. Your husband paused mid-sentence, glancing over his shoulder to give you a questioning expression. “Where are you going?” He demanded.

You clenched your jaw. His attitude was getting on your last nerve. “Meeting up with my friends.” You paused. “If that’s okay with you, of course?” The question was sarcastic, sharp enough to inform him of the fact that you were no longer willing to entertain the undercurrent curtness of his tone.

He sighed, momentarily dropping the irritation in his conduct. “Of course I don’t. I’m just… concerned. I don’t think it’s a good decision right now.”

You raised a carved eyebrow quizzically. “Oh? And I was supposed to know that, how? My apparent telepathic abilities?”

Naoya snorted, quickly gaining deep interest in your patterned curtains after a withering glare from your husband. Your spouse stood up, stalking over to you in a few long strides. He approached with a stiffness in his back, gently pulling you over to the side. “Don’t make this difficult for me. I’m just looking out for you,” he hissed under his breath.

“Which I could do perfectly well on my own if you’d just tell me what the hell is going on,” you shot back. “We’ve been over this enough times.”

Despite the ample time you gave him to respond, your husband chose to remain silent, lips pressed in a thin line. He simply stared at you, eyes unblinking in silent defiance.

“Well then,” you huffed, making a beeline to the elevator door. On your way out you cast a look to the sofas, catching Toji’s characteristically blank glare. He was reclined on the seat, arms outstretched and rested on the plush pillows. Long, restless fingers drummed on the fabric, and if your eyes didn’t deceive you, you caught the faintest sight of his scarred lips quirking at the corner; a small smirk at your little performance that irritatingly imitated your earlier gesture.

Ijichi, your driver, was waiting rather anxiously by the car. A small slip of a man, he tended to fret about the most insignificant issues and cause himself unnecessary headaches in the process. Even now, he jumped comically at your quickly approaching silhouette. “Ma’am!”

You nodded with a small smile. “Good evening, Ijichi.”

He greeted you back meekly, hand shooting to the rear door handle with muscle memory. Before opening the door however, he paused momentarily, as if he was engaged in some inner turmoil.

You waited patiently. “Is everything alright?”

Ijichi cleared his throat, releasing the door handle and straightening himself up. “Yes, ma’am. It’s just…”

You cocked your head to the side.

“Your husband, ma’am,” he began hurriedly, taking a beat to compose himself again. “He told me to not… take you anywhere.”

To his credit, the man appeared disgruntled at the word choice. From previous digging, digging being the correct choice of words because Ijichi was very professional, you knew that he also disapproved of your husband’s tyrannical ways. That professionalism prevented him from softening the blow of your husband grounding you, apparently.

“Ah,” you mused. “I see. Well, let me deal with him. I do have an appointment to attend today.”

You felt a little pity towards the man, for being caught between two butting heads. Not enough to cave however, as you stubbornly remained in your spot. “And if you are unable to take me, I’m perfectly capable of getting there myself.”

Ijichi debated with himself a second longer, face grimacing while he debated which choice would land him in the least amount of trouble. “As you wish, ma’am,” he sighed eventually, gently opening the door for you and gesturing to the leather seat. “Please.”

“Thank you.”

The cityscape rolled by as the car approached your destination. Golden streaks from the streetlamps danced over your shoulders, bleeding in with the harsh neons from passing billboards. The upscale restaurant that you’d chosen for the evening was one you typically frequented, a rooftop establishment that attendees would typically have to reserve weeks in advance. Due to your close friendship with the owner, you had the fortune of bypassing the process; a few gilded words in his ear and a table was yours for the evening.

Even then as Ijichi opened the rear door for you to exit, you spotted your dear friend beneath the porte-cochère, smiling to greet the evening’s patrons. You thanked Ijichi with a passing nod, telling him to not wait up for you and promising you’d send him a message when you were ready to retire.

“Mon cheri!” Francois grinned gleefully. “I’ve been waiting for you – and don’t you look as fabulous as ever!”

You returned his embrace, kissing him on the cheek in greeting. “Francois, I keep telling you. I’m a loyal customer now, you don’t have to keep kissing my ass.”

The man chortled at your playful words, glancing behind you briefly. “Just you today?”

You waved him off. “No husband tonight. Me and the girls are having a much needed catch up.”

“Ah, I see,” Francois deftly adjusted the scarf that slipped from your shoulder, using the opportunity to whisper a few words in your ear. “Be careful, cheri. I’m sure you already know, but things are looking a little tense for now. When it rains it pours, as they say.”

It took a split second for you to mask the surprise in your face. Francois had been close to the family for as long as you could remember, and was always willing to keep an ear out for when trouble was brewing. The nature of his profession meant he was always close to your fellow ‘business partners’, but even so he tended to steer clear of anything not surface deep. For him to warn you, it meant that things were truly bad. Regardless, you adorned a pleasant smile and squeezed his arm. “Thank you, darling. But you know me, I’m always careful.”

Your friend nodded, bowing dramatically as he gestured to the entrance. “Then please, enjoy your evening, my dear.”

On the rooftop a waiter guided you to the table, where everyone else was already seated. Utahime was the first to notice your arrival, waving enthusiastically in your direction. By the look of her flushed cheeks the wine had already started flowing, and the waiter dutifully poured you a glass as you sat.

“To think you were the one who invited us, and you’re the last to get here,” Shoko said dryly.

“Beauty takes time, Shoko,” you sighed dramatically. “That, and apparently I’m under house arrest now.”

The brunette swirled her drink, eyebrows raised at your choice of words. “Trouble in paradise?”

You rolled your eyes with a shrug. “Please. When isn’t there? But no, this is something else. And apparently my vagina renders me unworthy of knowing what.”

Mei Mei tittered at your joke, flicking her ponytail over a shoulder. “Don’t they love that one. It’s a good thing Shoko and I managed to escape that hellhole.”

Utahime huffed. “If only I had a choice. My husband doesn’t have the status to even give us an inkling of what’s going on before he’s eventually called away to work.” She turned to you, curiosity flashing in her eyes. “Have you heard anything at all?”

You pressed your lips together grimly, casting your mind back to the conversation you narrowly missed on your way out. “Nothing really. All I heard was ‘police’ before I was shut out.”

Shoko and Mei Mei shared a concerned glance, the former tapping manicured nails restlessly on the table.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know, chick,” Shoko began. “Something’s up for sure. I haven’t been able to catch much of it, but… some of my associates have been talking about the police cracking down on organized crime lately.”

You straightened your back, brows creasing slightly in confusion. “But why is it such a big deal now? This isn’t the first time we’ve heard that.”

Mei Mei hummed in agreement, plucking a cigarette from her gold case and offering one to Shoko. “Normally I’d agree with you. But I’ve heard the same, and something about changes in management. I think they’re serious this time.”

Your blood ran cold. Like you’d already stated, it wouldn’t be the first time news of a similar type had reached your ears. On those occasions, your husband told you intel had informed him in good enough time, and a few changes were enough to clear the family of any serious danger. Of course, those occasions hadn’t been accompanied with delayed meetings and reemergences of old faces. Hell, even Francois had warned you to keep your wits about, but it was unlikely he was referring to the police. Maybe you should’ve asked him for more clarification.

“Everything alright?” Utahime asked gently.

You blinked, realizing you’d gone silent whilst absorbed in your thoughts. “I’m fine. Just, thinking.”

Shoko inhaled from her newly lit cigarette. “Try not to think about it too much. I’m sure it’ll pass over and be dealt with soon enough.”

You weren’t so sure yourself. In fact, the feeling wouldn’t leave you, long after your conversation moved away from business and the four of you became more inebriated. You laughed along with your friends, but the small feeling of irritation from before blossomed into dread, dragging you deep into your thoughts even as you said your goodbyes.

Outside, the nighttime breeze cooled your flushed face, offering you a reprieve from the stuffy summer air. In your intoxicated state, you’d conveniently forgotten your promise to Ijichi, and neglected your agreed text before you were ready to leave. You glanced down at your phone, blinking at the harsh blue light to try and make sense of the notifications scattered across your screen. A few missed calls — from your driver as it happened, that you decided to brush aside for a few minutes. You sent a hurried text to the man to let him know you were safe and ready to go, and that he should meet you at the end of the street. It was only a few blocks away, and you wanted to take the opportunity to enjoy the air now that you had the chance.

Admittedly you wobbled in your heels a bit, but you quickly regained your balance the further you strolled from the hotel. The dazzling lights from the establishment faded as you ambled away, the sounds of the city nightlife providing a jarring ambience to your thoughts. In hindsight, you were taking liberties that you couldn’t really afford, given the current state of affairs. With the means to tucked against your thigh, you knew could protect yourself when the moment arose. But you were still vulnerable; a woman alone in a busy city, and very clearly under the influence.

It was that awareness that flagged a presence over your shoulder.

You straightened up, rapidly blinking away the blurriness in your vision. The presence was clearer now, a second, almost imperceivable set of footsteps. Your heart started hammering in your chest.

The footsteps were heavy, sloppy. By the sounds of it, a man was tailing you. Adrenaline cleared your addled mind and quickened your pace, and you internally cursed yourself for not just staying put when you had the chance. The hotel was now a decent distance behind you, and any attempt at calling for help could’ve landed you in more danger. Your palms grew moist as you flitted through your options, but nothing stuck out to you.

And so, you ran.

Kicking your heels off mid stride, you tore down the street, the soles of your feet ramming against the concrete to try and put distance between you and the stranger. Your heart slammed against your ribs; pure, unadulterated fear seeping into your bones while the footsteps grew closer.

Oh God.

Just before you reached the crossroads, the sound of an engine revving broke through the ringing in your ears. A car horn beeped through the air, and to your relief, a familiar black sedan screeched to a halt in front of you.

Ijichi.

The passenger door swung open and you leapt inside, pulling the door shut with such a force that the car shook. Your driver didn’t bother to check for the whereabouts of your assailant, and he tore off down the street without a second glance.

The otherwise silent car was filled with your heavy breathing as your lungs ripped back oxygen from the air.

“Ma’am? Are you okay?”

You swallowed, the roaring in your ears only then beginning to settle. “I think so.”

“Are you drunk?” Ijichi asked, horrified. “And your shoes!”

You couldn’t help the dry laughter that trickled from your throat. “Trust me, I think my little unplanned hundred metre sprint cleared any alcohol in my blood, Ijichi.” You reached to the side to sling on your seatbelt; the car had started its irritating little beeping. “And I can’t believe you’re asking about the shoes.”

“I—”

“I’m joking, Ijichi. Don’t worry. Someone’s about to have a very fortunate run in with Christian Louboutin,” you sighed.

“I can’t believe you’re making jokes, ma’am,” Ijichi fretted. “Your life was in danger,”

“Don’t I know it.”

“Your husband­—”

“—Is going to stay blissfully unaware of what just happened,” you turned to look at the man. “Isn’t he?”

“Ma’am, I can’t—”

“Isn’t he?”

Ijichi’s knuckles were turning an alarming shade of white as he gripped the steering wheel. His fingers tapped the smooth leather arbitrarily, until you softly patted his shoulder.

“I’m sorry to put you in this position, Ijichi. I know you’re only concerned for my safety,” you reclined in the seat, releasing a long puff of air. “He’s just being unreasonable right now.”

“Is… Is he treating you well?” Your driver asked nervously. “Excuse my prying.”

You shook your head with a small smile. “Don’t apologise, Ijichi. You’re a dear friend to me.” A beat of silence passed. “Probably a better friend to me than most. And yes, he’s treating me well enough, don’t you worry about that.”

Ijichi thought over your words for a moment, and finally relieved the steering from his death grip. “Very well, ma’am. Your secret’s safe with me.”

The rest of the journey was completed in a comfortable silence. Your head rested on the window’s cool glass, and you did your best to not consider what could’ve happened if Ijichi had not arrived when he did.

The house was asleep when you returned, and you couldn’t be more grateful for the solace. Explaining your late arrival and dishevelled state to your husband would’ve only served as more punishment.

Your sore feet padded across the tile in the kitchen, covered in odd-looking grime stains from your recently concluded adventure. You had to beg Ijichi to keep his shoes on, despite his numerous attempts at passing them off to you for your short venture back inside.

It was late, and the only thing that would bring you comfort was a shower, followed with a Netflix marathon. You unceremoniously dumped your purse on the kitchen counter and grabbed a glass from the cupboard, trudging over to the tap to fill it with cold water.

Apparently, your sixth sense had been worn out in your earlier escape, because the sound of a gruff voice from behind you almost made you jump from your skin.

“Fuck happened to your feet?”

You whirled on your heel to find Toji stood behind you, car keys dangling from his fingers. He’d fixed you with an unimpressed grimace.

Your mouth was gaped open like a fish, jaw working to muster up some rubbish excuse to give the man. The scene was comedic, your glass overflowing into the sink as you gawked at him. “Uhhhh, lost my shoes…”

Toji stared at you like you were stupid. “Right.”

“More importantly,” you hurriedly added, eager to change the subject, “Why are you still here?”

The man shrugged, walking around the breakfast counter until he stopped in front of you. “Ask your husband.”

You tried to ignore the childish skip of your heart at his proximity. “Ah. Is… everything okay?”

He paused for a moment, cocking his head to the side to study your weary appearance. “Mhm. Not really.”

You finally came to your senses and closed the tap, tipping your glass out until the water reached an acceptable level. Placing it on the counter between you two, you sighed. “Great. Wonder if any of it is related to the fucker who tried kidnapping me today. I only just about made it out in one piece.”

You don’t know what you were expecting from him, in all honesty. It was no novelty to you that the men of your husband’s family were emotionally constipated, so any tenderness from your cousin-in-law would’ve likely come as more of a shock. But a snort, a shake of the head? Considering your life was in danger, you didn’t expect such callous response and you found yourself quite miffed. “Funny?”

“A little. Y’look fine to me,” Toji spoke gruffly. He gave you a once over. “A little worse for wear, maybe.”

You bristled, and made no effort to conceal a scowl. “And fuck you too.”

Toji’s lips quirked at the side, and he twirled the keys around a finger. “Mhm. Don’t think yer husband would enjoy hearin’ all that, missy.”

You couldn’t help the flush of your cheeks at his crassness, and buried the small flame that ignited in your belly with a scoff. “Whatever. Don’t let the lift crush you on your way out, asshole.”

To your surprise, after you turned your back to him, Toji didn’t move. Maybe it was the remnants of your strange day that encouraged him to stay.

“He’s really not tellin’ you nothin’, huh?”

You shrugged, necking down your glass of water. “No. Unsurprising.”

Your cousin-in-law shuffled, and you peered over your shoulder to see him braced against the countertop. “I don’t concern myself with my cousin’s marriage. But…”

You lifted a brow expectantly.

Toji sighed, scratching his stubbled jaw. “The feds are cracking down, apparently. Some changes in management. Seems the Gojos made some good connections in advance, and they manage to raid one of your warehouses.”

The hair on your neck raised at the revelation. The Gojos had always been a thorn in your family’s side, and a significant amount of recent efforts had been spent deciding what to do about them. You weren’t well versed in the politics of the situation, largely due to your husband’s secrecy, but you knew they hadn’t been much of a threat in the past. Some mutually beneficial agreements had been made, and a fragile peace had been brokered. Until now, apparently.

“Shit. And if they’re with the police now…” you muttered.

“Uh huh. Not good.”

Not good was a big understatement. Things were about to go severely sideways if the issue wasn’t approached carefully.

You exhaled with effort. “Why’d you tell me?”

For the umpteenth time, Toji shrugged. “Looked like you were having a shitty day.” He straightened up from the counter and eyed you narrowly. “Don’t involve me in shit with your husband.”

Whatever mild-natured mood Toji had welcomed vanished into thin air with those words.

“My lips are sealed,” you muttered absent-mindedly. “But… I thought you left all of this?”

Toji looked more than displeased with your question, and a darkness clouded his expression. You’d hit a nerve it seemed, but your curiosity tended to get the better of you. It was true. From what you’d gathered from Naoya, Toji left the family years ago. There’d been a disagreement of some sort, and the elders named him a disgrace to the family name. He’d disappeared mysteriously for a good few years before reappearing again, with a new surname in tow.

His lips twitched in annoyance. “You can never leave this shit behind.”

And with that, he left.

Your brief conversation with Toji was the last you’d heard of him for a couple of months.

Since then, your life had been on a continuous downwards spiral. Your ‘house arrest’, as you’d so conveniently labelled it, had become far less of a joke. Between your husband’s excessive lingering and Ijichi’s newfound flightiness, you were essentially trapped. If you so much even attempted to leave, your own home mind you, one of your husband’s men would block your way out of the building before you got anywhere. You’d started with charms, bartering, begging, and eventual screaming, but your husband wouldn’t budge. In fact, your already strained marriage had reached a new tipping point. Before all the tension with the Gojos, you and your husband were rarely around each other; his constant responsibilities frequently called him away from your home, and it wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to go a week without seeing each other. Now however, he was always around. Either he’d spend a day in the local offices and return in the evening, or he’d host gatherings with other members of the family in the penthouse. Those days were the worst, as he was adamant that you could be nowhere near the discussions, and even your own balcony was off limits.

Despite the proximity, the two of you didn’t speak. He avoided you like the plague, which initially didn’t bother you too much, but when the loneliness hit even a conversation with him would have been a saving grace. Ijichi could provide you no help either. He was busier now, with transporting your husband and the family to wherever they would disappear off to, and was scarcely free to even send you a message. You had a strong feeling your husband had a role in that too, the echoes of a few of his passing, disapproving comments flashing through your mind.

Most nights you had dinner alone, opting out of sitting with the family after Naoya had made one too many comments about your ‘unladylike’ moods. The other men largely ignored you, which made for a miserable experience when you were looking forward to some, albeit rather unpleasant company.

Unfortunately, you weren’t lucky one night. You’d been forced to sit with your guests when your father-in-law had asked about your whereabouts, and were on your fiftieth smile and nod of the evening.

Your husband sat at the head of the table, Naoya opposite you as you tried to find something engaging in your broth.

“And that useless fool Toji has been no help,” one of your husband’s uncles snarled from the other end of the table. “We needed him to deal with a quack informant yesterday, and he didn’t even bother showing up!”

“Ha!” Naoya grinned, ears perking up at the chance to foul mouth his cousin. “I warned you, uncle. He’s too busy with his pay-for-kill to remember where he came from.”

“And you, Masaru? Have you heard from your cousin lately? You’re supposed to be keeping tabs on him.”

To his credit, your husband seemed to veil his temperament as thinly as yourself. “No, uncle. I don’t have time to be chasing after Toji and his whereabouts,” he sighed.

“That boy,” your father-in-law grumbled. “After all we did for him.”

“Hm. Maybe my dear sister-in-law has an idea,” Naoya drawled.

You raised your head sharply at his comment. Naoya reclined in his seat, arms folded as he regarded you with the ghost of a smile. You fought everything within you to keep a mask of indifference on your face. “And what, exactly, would you mean by that, Naoya?”

You’d previously decided to stay out of any conversation that arose during the meal, but your brother-in-law’s direct provocation was hard to ignore. Even your husband had finally looked up from his phone.

Naoya waved his hand flippantly. “Nothing serious. I just always thought the two of you had something you were hiding, that’s all.”

Your heart thundered in your chest, partly furious and partly fearful with whatever rubbish he was offering. You were very aware of the fact that you and Toji had scarcely made conversation, but your guests wouldn’t know what to make of Naoya’s spew.

“My dear? What does he mean by that?” your father-in-law asked gently.

Your nostrils flared in anger. “I’m not sure, actually. I haven’t seen Toji in months.”

You hoped your words would be enough to shut the conversation down, but your brother-in-law continued.

“That, I’m sure of. It’s not as if you’ve had much chance recently.”

Another goad. Your brother-in-law had been around for one of your screaming matches with your husband, and you knew it was only a matter of time before he brought it out of his arsenal.

“From before. It looked like the two of you had a… close relationship.”

It was so silent you could hear a pin drop. A nasty tension had built in the dining room, and even you couldn’t find the gall to break it.

“Naoya…” an uncle warned. “You overstep, son.”

“Yes.” Your husband spoke up now, staring such daggers into his younger brother you wouldn’t be surprised if he dropped dead. “You severely overstep.”

Said younger brother raised in arms in mock surrender. “I’m just saying what I observed. Maybe your wife’s needs aren’t being properly met.”

Whatever happened next occurred so quickly you could barely register it. Your husband swung at his brother, so swift it looked like a blur. The table jerked with the movement, and several plates spilled their contents onto laps and the floor. Voices were raised and protests filled the air, the vast majority of them directed towards Naoya. Even now, his nose dripped crimson onto the marble flooring, and his face was still painted with that shit eating grin.

You trembled in your seat, a whirlwind of emotions brewing at the sudden descent into chaos.

Your husband turned to look at you from where he stood, face screwed in pure rage as he addressed you. “We need to talk.”

At those words your resolve broke, and the dam holding back your anger shattered. “Surely not,” you scoffed, folding your arms and meeting his steely gaze.

“You heard me.”

You stood up, palms slamming against the table and seethed, “Tell me you’re not believing the utter shit this worm is feeding you?!”

“I’m not having this conversation here,” your husband shot back, fury dissolving into an ice cold simmer.

“No! Let’s have it now!” You hissed. “You lock me up in here, forbid me from leaving and I listen out of respect. And this is how I’m repaid?! Masaru, I—”

“Enough!” Your father-in-law roared, cutting off your rant mid sentence.

Silence.

“We are a family. No matter what happens to the business, that is a fact. Naoya, stop acting like a fucking child and pull yourself together before I really make you bleed,” he continued, glaring at him from the other side of the table. “And you, my dear,” he sighed, turning to look at you with a more tender expression. “This is a conversation better had in private.”

You still shook in rage, glare fixed on your husband. But with the interruption from your father-in-law you knew you had no choice, and stormed from the room.

A few moments later your spouse joined you in your bedroom.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

You held your hand up, refusing to listen to whatever apology he had to offer. “I don’t care, Masaru. You think I’ve been unfaithful? After you’ve subjected me to house arrest?!”

He exhaled gently, shutting the door behind him and rubbing his brow. “No, I don’t. And you’re not under house arrest. I’m trying to keep you safe, you know that.”

You huffed incredulously. “I am a grown woman. I have a mind of my own and I can damn well take care of myself whe–” you cut yourself off, and your spouse’s expression grew angry again.

“Oh? Like when Ijichi had to come and save the day?”

Your heart fell at that, remembering how Ijichi promised to not say anything. “He… told you?”

Your husband raised his brows. “Really? No. He didn’t tell me willingly, if that’s what you’re concerned about. I had to question him until he told me where the hell you’d been. This is what I’m talking about!”

You frowned, crossing your arms and demanding, “What did you do to him?”

His mouth curled in disgust. “Nothing. I didn’t touch him, what’s wrong with you? Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

You rolled your eyes, bouncing slightly as you perched on the end of your bed. “You still think I’m cheating on you, and now with Ijichi?”

Your husband raised his hands in exasperation. “I don’t know! You don’t even speak to me anymore, what am I supposed to think?!”

Your gaze was fixed on a far away corner whilst you shook your head. “Don’t be dense. There was never any love between us, Masaru. This was a business arrangement.”

The cold reality of your words fizzled in the air, the truth that had been building for years finally unveiled in the open. Despite any early attempts at building a real relationship, you were right; the marriage between you two had been arranged, dropped on you like a bomb by parents you rarely conversed with anymore. You and your husband had tried, really tried, but your misery had always hung over your relationship like a cloud.

“Right.” Your husband spoke coldly. “Speaking of arrangements, I think I’m sending you away from here.”

“What?!”

“Don’t bother. It’s because of this mess with the Gojos. I don’t want you getting caught in the middle of it, and clearly, it’s tense enough as it is with the family,” he scowled, likely recalling his earlier encounter with his brother. “Maybe then you’ll feel less trapped.”

You knew he wasn’t talking about your confinement.

“Whatever.”

And he left, abandoning you to that whirlwind of thoughts and complete, utter helplessness.

Brrr Brrr. Brrr Brrr.

Toji Fushiguro was pissed, to say the least. His apartment buzzer was so damn loud it could raise the dead, and having it go off mid-fuck was a sure enough way to turn him off as any. He’d slipped out of the woman with an irritated kiss of his teeth, and pulled on a stray pair of joggers as he dragged his feet towards the intercom. Whoever was ringing his bell so incessantly had better have some pretty urgent news if they were so set on disturbing him.

“Who the fuck is it?” He hissed down the mic.

A pause. “I’m great, thanks for asking, Toji,” the dry voice came.

It was his cousin, one of many family members that was set on pulling him into whatever shit they’d landed themselves into this time. Toji had half a mind to cuss the man out and pull the buzzer cord, but the prick would just find a way to climb through his window. With a grunt of displeasure, he buzzed the man in.

A few moments later, Masaru was stood in front of Toji’s door, a look of disgust directed towards the slowly diminishing tent in his pants.

“What. Do you want now?”

His cousin pursed his lips tiredly. “I need a favour.”

“Didn’t think you were here to play dress up, Masaru,” Toji replied satirically, leaning against the doorframe with folded arms. “What is it.”

It excited a small, sick part of him to see his cousin stiffen at his words. Masaru had never really liked Toji, largely due to the big name he had to live up to. He knew it stung that even now, years after he’d left the family business, the elders always chose him as their first port of call in a dire situation.

“I need you to take my wife in for a bit.”

“HA!” At Masaru’s words Toji guffawed, half believing the visit was a prank. “You’re shittin’ me.”

His cousin remained perfectly still, finding the situation positively unfunny. “No. I’m not.”

“And why the hell would I do that?”

“You already know shit’s hit the fan, Toji,” he replied stiffly. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t necessary.”

“And you already know I told you not to involve me in your business, but here you are on my doorstep,” Toji insisted. “How does she feel about this?”

Masaru looked even more affronted by the question. “It doesn’t matter. She’s not safe.”

“Right. Remember your family goin’ on about ‘men protecting their wives’. Last time I checked s’not my ring on her finger.”

“We have an agreement.”

That pissed Toji off. “Don’t bring that shit into this, Masaru. I’ve held up my side of the deal.”

“No,” Masaru hissed, stepping closer. “You’ve done fuck all worth the time and effort it takes to keep them away from you. Especially at a time like this.”

“Careful,” Toji warned quietly, mocking gaze morphing into something colder.

His cousin stared him down for a moment longer, debating something stupid before stepping back again. “Do this for me, and I’ll be in your debt.”

He was exceptionally desperate if he was offering something as brainless as that. Masaru knew very well the kind of man Toji was, and even during his time with the family, owing someone was always a last, desperate result.

Toji debated a little longer, stroking the stubble on his chin thoughtfully before making his mind up. “Fine.”

Masaru’s shoulders dropped, relief flooding his demeanour. “Great. I’ll—.”

“Toji?” A soft voice hummed from over his shoulder. “Everything okay?”

The cousins exchanged a glance, and Masaru rolled his eyes dramatically. “Whatever. Just look at your damn phone please.”

And without so much as a thank you, the man retreated down the hallway.

Babysitting was never one of Toji’s strengths, and the thought of having someone permanently in his space didn’t bode well. When that someone was his cousin’s wife, a woman that he pointedly tried to avoid whenever he could, he knew that his life was going to become considerably difficult for the foreseeable future.

When your husband told you that he was ‘sending you away’, you were initially indignant.

In fact, you traversed through several stages of refusal. The next was disbelief. For someone so set on keeping you within earshot, the switch up made no sense in your head. You were at a loss as to why it was even a consideration. Then again, he’d made a substantial effort to keep you away from any developments with the current situation; you had no inkling of how bad things had gotten. Your final stage was acceptance. Staying in your home had brought you no happiness over the past few weeks, and the idea of getting away from it all became more appealing. If only it had been on your own terms, and you weren’t being passed around like blunt in rotation.

However, when he informed you on your moving day that Toji Fushiguro was to be your host, the gears started turning in your head. This was the same person you had been accused of being in an affair with, after all. The more paranoid part of yourself even considered if this was some convoluted test; far-fetched, but something you wouldn’t put past your husband and his insane family. Upon further consideration however, you realised that he was just out of options.

Even still, you wondered.

Aside from the fact that you’d never been unfaithful in your marriage, it didn’t help matters knowing that you were going to be in such close proximity with the man that tempted you the most. On many occasions you found yourself wondering why your subconscious picked Toji as your vice. It wasn’t on account of an affection that was absent from your marriage – for fuck’s sake, the man looked at you like you were insignificant. But you soon realised, it wasn’t warmth that you craved. It was the promise of something else, something that you’d never been given in your current relationship; promises made by the fleeting bouts of intense, steeled stares. Promises of nights spent bent over different surfaces, screams and moans of pleasure ripped from your throat by ministrations of long, pretty fingers, plush scarred lips and a fullness between your legs. With the deterioration of your relationship, multiple nights had been spent sneaking off to the bathroom, one hand clamped over your mouth as fantasies of your cousin-in-law brought you closer to the edge than your husband’s presence ever had.

It was unravelling you, slowly but surely, and being permanently under the same roof would be your breaking point.

The feelings of your promiscuity came from a deeper, more hidden part of yourself, however. On the surface, you were still furious at your husband for his blatant disrespect, and some of that anger also directed itself towards Toji for even being complacent in the matter.

Your housemaid had packed you two suitcases, and tittered at you for trying to take what she deemed as ‘unnecessary’. Apparently Mr. Fushiguro would be taking you nowhere worthy of multiple purses, though you could’ve gathered that yourself.

Your goodbyes to your husband were nothing ceremonious, and before you knew it you were settled into the passenger seat of his cousin’s car, enroute to wherever it was that he lived.

Toji didn’t bother switching on the radio to fill the silence of his car, and upon further investigation he didn’t appear ecstatic at his new roommate situation either.

“When did he ask you to do this?” you asked, eventually breaking the stiff silence.

Toji grunted. “He turned up with no warning. Wasn’t exactly asked.”

“Sounds familiar,” you huffed. “Sorry. It’s embarrassing, actually. I don’t want to be a burden.”

“S’not your fault,” he responded gruffly.

You hummed absentmindedly, picking at a newly manicured fingernail. “You uh… have any pets?”

Toji turned to look at you then, face screwed to the side in bewilderment. “Why are you asking me that stupid question?”

Ouch.

“God forbid a woman wants to have a conversation, damn,” you grumbled, trying to push away the embarrassment at your failed joke.

“Uh huuuuh,” he replied lazily, scratching his jaw. “You’re a bit odd, aren’t you.”

It wasn’t even intonated as a question. “Thanks.”

“Hm. Guess girls like you don’t have t’worry about being good talkers, anyhow.”

You spun your head back to face him, bristling at his words. “And what’s that supposed to mean? Girls like me?”

Toji shrugged, hazy green eyes focused on the road. “Girls like you. Pretty, rich girls.”

And yes, you were put out by his blanket, misogynistic statement, even wondering if he was joking. But knowing what he was, Toji was being dead serious. Bringing the matter up in the moment wasn’t particularly appealing to you, especially since you had no reason to believe he was any different from the men you already knew. Instead, you chose to provoke him.

“You think I’m pretty.”

At that, Toji glanced across the vehicle, rolling his eyes at your rebuttal. “You keep starin’ at me like that and I’ll leave you on the side of the road.”

Oddly enough, you felt a stab of pleasure in your gut from the harsh nature of his words, and discreetly crossed a thigh over the other. “You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“What?”

“Take me in.”

His answer came a little too quickly for your liking. “Nah, I didn’t.”

You bristled at that. “So why did you?”

He thought over your question for a bit, picking at his jaw with a free hand. “Your husband’s a relentless prick.”

“…And?”

He shrugged. “Just business.”

Not the answer you’d hoped for, and you buried the small feeling of disappointment that reared its head.

You didn’t know what you were expecting Toji’s place to look like, but maybe having an expectation would’ve prepared you.

It was small, and looked to be struggling against the test of time. The sofa had deep depressions in the seats from overuse, and the coffee table housed a small collection of empty beer cans. The painted walls were tinged a strange colour, and the even the carpet was littered with strange looking stains. Rather than messy, there were just items in the strangest of places, the starkest example being a broken lamp right in front of the television.

However, you were mindful of his earlier comment about pretty, rich girls and swallowed any smart remarks you had. At the end of the day, you were an uninvited guest.

“Where am I going to sleep?” you asked aloud, following Toji into his kitchen.

“Didn’t think that far ahead,” he admitted, pulling a beer from the fridge.

You wrinkled your nose at the drink. “It’s two in the afternoon.”

“Don’t lecture me,” he growled, stalking over to the couch. The can hissed after he cracked it open. “Didn’t hear me makin’ any smart comments when you were knockin’ back those cocktails.”

You winced, trailing after him and sitting on the opposite side. You tried not to yelp as the seat almost consumed you. “Anyway…!”

“Couch is a pullout, you can take my room,” he offered, flicking on the television.

The idea of sleeping in his bed, engulfed in his scent almost triggered another spiral. “I don’t want to steal your space,” you replied gingerly.

Toji eyed you from across the couch. “And gettin’ into bed with me sounds better?”

You flushed, choosing to remain silent. If only he knew. You pretended to pay attention to whatever he’d put on the television, but your gaze kept darting to the side, trying to sneak glances of your unexpected roommate. He was reclined in the seat, one arm outstretched on the armrest, the other elbow resting on the back of the sofa. Every now and then, he tipped the can into his mouth, the bubbly liquid leaving remnants on his lips that his tongue darted out to catch. His dark hair had grown out a little, raven wavelets curling around the back of his neck and more strands growing over his eyes, caressing the slant of his cheekbone. It suited him, and you found yourself wondering how soft it would feel between your fingers.

Toji’s broad rounded shoulders stretched out his fitted black tee, the material looked as if it was struggling to hold itself in place, huge biceps cutting against the hems. His posture lifted the fabric so some of the tanned skin around his abdomen was exposed, showing a portion of his Calvin Kleins that sat above his joggers. Despite his apparent beer problem, smooth muscle rippled beneath the surface, the slight bumps in his abs creating dips in the fabric.

Oh God.

He shifted slightly, spreading his legs open a little more, and your eyes narrowed in on the bulge that protruded ever so slightly from the waistband of his grey sweats, you could see it move when he bounced his well-built thigh. Your throat went dry at the size.

He’s soft, and it still looks huge.

“Quit starin’ at me.”

You swallowed. “No one’s staring at you, asshole.”

Toji dragged his attention away from the television for a moment. “I can feel your creepy little eyes on me. Quit it.”

His blunted words made your skin prickle, and you clenched your fists. “I said I wasn’t. Get your head out of your ass, and stop acting like a child.”

Your retort snatched his full attention, and he stared at you with a glint in his eyes. “So you weren’t just lookin’ at my dick?”

You were mortified. At the fact that he’d just caught you red-handed, and that you had nothing to say. Your face ran so hot that you would be completely unsurprised if steam started trickling from your ears.

“You—” the word burst from your lips as you jumped to your feet.

Toji blinked at you expectantly.

With nothing else to say, you made a strange little exasperated noise and fled to his bedroom. To your dissatisfaction, you heard the muffled sound of low chuckling behind you. You slammed the door shut.

Your first night with Toji Fushiguro was otherwise uneventful. After your earlier humiliation, you avoided him like the plague. The efforts lasted a blissful few hours until your stomach rumbled, and you had to venture into the kitchen for food. It was apparent that your cousin-in-law thought you incapable of taking care of yourself; but you’d spent enough time in your own kitchen to know that steak, a half carton of milk and two apples weren’t part of a recipe for anything substantial. Consequentially, the idea of asking him for a trip to the grocery store soured your mood. You instead googled nearby takeout places, and just about managed to co-ordinate with him without too much fuss.

Your sleeping arrangements had already been decided, and not too long after eating you curled up in fresh sheets. The events of the last few weeks: clashing with your husband, Ijichi’s absence, even the stability of the family business momentarily grasped your thoughts. But you’d spent a number of restless nights pondering over those already, and ruminating over the same themes began to exhaust you. Instead, your mind instead drifted to the man a room away, trying to come to terms with the fact that it was his bed you were asleep in. His bed that you rolled around in, and his bed that engulfed you in the scent of fresh detergent and a lingering aftershave.

It was pathetic, that you eventually lulled yourself to sleep with thoughts that twisted into something more titillating. Imaginary hands grasped your thighs, smoothing over the skin with a warm presence. They spread your legs and grabbed handfuls of your flesh, gliding over the dampness of your core as you mumbled softly into the pillows. Hooded eyes flashed in the forefront of your dreams, and hard muscles trapped you in a cage of relentless, searing heat.

The next morning wasn’t the first time you woke up to thighs glistening with arousal. Embarrassingly so, it happened on numerous occasions over the next few weeks. Not every night – some were filled with nightmares, dreams of your husband snatching you from the bed with bloodied hands, or the same man that tailed you months ago emerging from a dark corner of the room. Those nights you woke with a start, a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin and a throat so dry you wondered if you’d been screaming. The more pleasant nights had you rushing to the bathroom to clean yourself off. Or, finish what had abruptly stopped in your dreams.

Sometimes you dragged yourself up at dawn to find Toji already gone, the pullout folded back into the worn couch. Those days would have him out multiple nights at a time, not even bothering to let you know when he’d return. Your life hadn’t changed much in that regard. Hours were spent examining the intricacies of your roommate’s apartment, looking through scattered documents and searching for anything to give you a better idea of who the man was. There were scarcely any photos, but you found one tucked away in a drawer, a faded depiction of a woman smiling over her shoulder. That was as far as the pleasantries extended. Other cupboards had the occasional bullet casing, guns and even a few knives that had you slamming the door shut with a paled expression.

When there was nothing left for you to explore, you experimented with cooking and baking, ordering obscene amounts of groceries to fill your time. You sketched, binged watched television, even tried your hand at poetry; which was a testament to your insanity. You’d always hated them in school.

And all that time, your husband didn’t contact you once. Not a message, a phone call, even a damned letter. It was as if he’d vanished off the face of the planet, or maybe he just preferred assuming you had. Your three main friends were all busy, and none of the rest of the family contacted you. And although you truly hated them, a small part of you hurt. All the women you’d previously met at the various galas and events were a hollow imitation of yourself, some of them falling victim to various substances to fill the void. Even still, in the past you’d tried reaching out to them, an attempt to connect with the other women who suffered at the behest of a world built on their backs. But all your endeavours were for naught; your only solace was your phone, and your continuous failed attempts at various hobbies.

One miserable day, you’d picked up reading in hopes of warding off a particularly harsh mood swing and were halfway through the first chapter when you heard the click of a key in the door.

Toji.

He was just returning from one of his longer absences. Whenever he did so, he’d typically fall into a foul mood, the weight of whatever it was he was paid for sitting heavy on his shoulders. That knowledge prevented you from walking out to greet him, and thankfully, saved you from what would’ve otherwise been a mortifying experience.

You heard another voice, soft and feminine, and all the hairs on your body stood on end. The voice mingled with the low baritone of his own, fading into the living room and out of earshot. You sat cross-legged on the bed for ten minutes, time ticking slowly by as you debated how depraved you really were.

Calling it curiosity would’ve been a show of zero integrity. Nosiness was more fitting, to describe the way you gently turned off the lights and cracked the door open. Every instinct in your body screamed that you were acting immorally, but the more childish part of you argued that you had a right to know who was in ‘your’ space. You snuck out into the hallway, stopping by the entrance to the living room and peering into the darkness. The light from the kitchen cast a warm hue over the sofa, and your chest panged at the sight.

Toji stood shirtless in front of the couch, sweats hung low on his hips. Another figure, the woman you heard in the hallway presumably, was sat before him, one hand splayed on his abs. Her blood red nails dragged slowly across the divots. With bated breath you watched, waiting for something. You weren’t sure what for, or why you cared so much, your own nails carving crescents into your palms. Dismay pooled in your chest at the flash of movement, watery eyes absorbing the way he suddenly gripped her wrist. At the sight of the woman stepping towards him you tore your gaze away, stalking back to your room in silence.

Initially, you were pissed. Angry beyond a sensible level, like you’d experienced a personal betrayal. The rotating ceiling fan above the bed fell victim to your sharp glare, each blink throwing daggers into the dusty blades. You were powerless; no justifiable reason to scream and shout at him. You pictured the way he’d ignore you, calling you insane and reminding you of your own husband. Husband. It was almost laughable, actually, how much of an afterthought your own relationship was. You slowly lifted your left hand, centering your vision on it until the ceiling fan blurred. The weighty diamond housed in the crown of the ring glinted in the silvery moonlight, flashing with each thud of your chest. Irritation that previously prickled your skin burned into guilt around the ring finger of your left hand, and your heart heavied. You were green with envy over the sight of a man who wasn’t your husband fucking another woman. And scarily enough, after the initial revelation faded, you found that guilt fading.

At some point you must’ve fallen asleep, limbs akimbo and hair sprawled around you in a halo. The intense, sudden urge to pee stabbed your bladder, and you pulled yourself up while rubbing an eye. You dragged yourself to the bathroom, vision cloudy from your recently concluded nap. Any previous psychoanalyses of your feelings were dimmed by a foggy mind, and you almost didn’t register the steady beat of water against tile. You stopped yourself just in time. The door was ajar, and you peered in to see Toji’s tall figure in the shower cubicle. Alone – hours later, you suspected he’d finished his business and wanted to clean off.

A flickering started between your legs at the sight of his bare skin, back muscles flexing and relaxing while soap suds sluiced off his body. He was so tall, towering in the small space and appearing as if carved by a Greek god; contours in his flesh danced as muscle rippled. The flickering metamorphosed into dull thumps when he turned, back now to the wall. His chest was endless, smooth and defined, littered with scars that glistened under the overhead light. There was just so much of him. Bulging biceps and mouth wateringly heavy pecs that contrastingly tapered down, past converging traps to a slim waist dusted with a happy trail. Dull thumps grew into an uncomfortable panging at the sight of his dick; he was hung like a horse. A shade darker than the rest of him, it looked around six inches soft. His heavy balls hung low, dusted with short black hair. His tip was a pretty pink shade, round and uncut, and you were sure you drooled a little, tongue picturing the salty musk he’d taste of. All of a sudden it twitched, and you gaze flicked up, horrified to see Toji staring back at you, pink lips quirked at the corner with the faintest of smirks.

At the sight of him reaching down, giving himself two experimental strokes, you fled.

You escaped back to your room, where you locked the door behind you and flicked the lights off. The uncomfortable panging persisted as you shimmied out of your outfit, adorning a loose pyjama set to let your skin breathe. At first you were mortified that you’d been caught, watching him in the shower like some loser, even if it was accidental at the start. Alas, the embarrassment was short lived, soon succumbing to the more appealing image of his body under the streams of water. You squeezed your eyes shut until colourful shapes danced behind your lids, but it did nothing to soothe the throbbing of your core.

Even as you lay beneath the covers an hour later you trembled, the image of his teasing expression haunting you. His jade eyes flashed, a clear enough message in them while he dropped a hand to squeeze his cock. In the entire time you’d been away from your home, you’d not touched yourself in his bed once. Something about it felt too intimate, wrong. But that night you buried your face in the pillow, his fading scent tempted you more than it had done before. Your cunt grew slick, bright pink panties ruined by the arousal that dripped from you. You were burning beneath the covers, but relished in the envelope that it provided you, a shield for the way you tentatively reached a hand down into your panties.

Your imagination blossomed then, painting a pretty picture of the aftermath of your fleeing. Toji continued stroking his length, huffing as it grew to full hardness. He’d smooth the beads of precum that oozed out with his fingers, allowing his grip to slide over his cock easily. You swallowed a whine, desperate from you dragging a finger across your slit. It was filthy, the way copious amounts of cream allowed your finger to slide through with little resistance. Your mind flashed images of him, and you didn’t even have the resolve to drag it out, already feeling the pleasure building in your core.

Your free hand reached beneath your slip to tug at a nipple, and your eyes closed at the pulse it sent up your spine.

“M’fuck…”

It felt good, so good, the slow thrust of your fingers against your walls even though your wrist ached. You pictured Toji above you, imagining your fingers were his length, pounding into you and twisting your soft whines until they grew higher in pitch. The sounds of his grunts filled your mind, low and sinful, one hand gripping your hip, the other holding the headboard. It was wicked, the way you could almost hear the words he’d growl about your unfaithfulness, calling you such mean things as his balls met your ass. You panted, spine arching after your free hand rubbed swift circles into your clit. A final picture with Toji’s cock buried deep inside you, cum spilling around his girth sent you over the edge, and you muffled yourself with a free hand as you came undone.

Your chest rose and fell while you stared at the ceiling, fingers damp with your spend. Dread and helplessness washed over you that night, identical to a few hours prior. The silver band of the ring swiped against your finger, slick with the remnants of your arousal. You were trapped in marriage that seemed to rot with each passing day. Trapped in an apartment so small that there was no escape from the man that had always accelerated that decay, and your chest tore at the irony of your torment; the proximity to source of your sins was a more fitting punishment than any.

The next morning, your mood was black enough to rival coal.

Between your escapades with Toji and your revelation at the end of the night, you had reached the end of your tether. You crawled out of bed at the crack of dawn, brushed your teeth a little harder than normal and retreated to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, only remembering the milk had run out after you put the kettle on.

“Fuck my life,” you grumbled as you slammed the fridge door shut, rubbing a hand down your face.

Footsteps padded on the floor behind you, and you spotted Toji making his way over to the tap. He was on his way to the gym most likely, clad in basketball shorts and a white compression tee that drew out all the dips and troughs of his chest. Memories of the night before flooded your mind, and your cheeks heated at the recollection of him catching you in the middle of being a creep. Accidental or not.

“What’s got yer panties in a twist,” he grumbled, morning voice deepening his drawl. You always found it funny that he never intonated his questions correctly, each sentence always seemed to fall flat.

“I’m losing my mind, that’s what.” you grumbled, pulling yourself up on the counter.

He filled a water bottle at the tap, yawning obnoxiously in the process. “Maybe if y’actually went outside you’d feel better.”

You turned to look at him sharply then, shock evident on your face. “But I thought…”

Toji scratched his abdomen tiredly and shut off the tap. “Huh?”

You shook your head, lips pursed in contemplation. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to leave.”

For the second time, the first more memorable occasion being all those weeks ago in your penthouse, he stared at you, the words ‘this woman is stupid’ practically scribbled on his forehead. You couldn’t help but wiggle in embarrassment.

“Why the hell would anyone stop you?”

It was that one question that made you almost crumple on that counter. To him, an outsider, the idea of keeping you locked away was such a foreign concept that it quite literally didn’t make sense. And you struggled with that internally for a while, furious at the small kernel in your mind that swelled with a dangerously warm feeling. Something so simple; describing it as the ‘bare minimum’ was an overexaggeration in itself. You pocketed the feeling away. “Back at home I…” You paused your sentence abruptly, feeling rather uncomfortable at pouring out your feelings for a man that most likely didn’t care.

But to your surprise, an aggravated look crossed his face. Gone within a split second, but you saw. “Yer a grown woman. And you’ve been in this shit long enough that you know the risks.”

Toji paused, thinking for a moment. “If it’s protection y’worried about, I can help with that.”

You nodded gratefully, pulse thumping at the anticipation of finally getting your life back. It had been long, agonising months of torture, but finally, a glimmer of hope shone over the horizon. You observed Toji mess around with the fridge, moving aside your late night creations in search of his protein shake. In your curiosity, you’d taken a sip from the bottle once, immediately regretting your decision. The things were foul, a nasty amalgamation of clashing favours that the artificial tang of vanilla whey powder did no favours. You couldn’t help the grimace on your face at the sight of him pulling it from a shelf, an ominous sloshing filling the air as he shook the bottle. As your thoughts wandered, you failed to notice your thighs falling open, a flash of pink catching Toji’s attention.

His slow blink rendered you hyperaware of what you were wearing, that tiny slip dress that barely covered your ass, and a bright pink pair of panties that peeked below the hem. You slammed your legs together.

“Hm.” Toji smirked, rubbing a hand over his chest. “Funny.”

“What?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, taking a gulp from his bottle. “So I can’t get a view of your panties, but you can perv on me in the shower?”

You clenched your jaw, praying he couldn’t see the goosebumps that rose on your arms. “I was half asleep. I didn’t know you were in there until I… saw.”

He nodded slowly, lazy eyes dragging across your slip. “Yer welcome. Sounded like you needed it.”

“Huh?”

“Last night.” Another sip. “I heard you.”

Oh. No no no no no.

You cleared your throat, leaning back and bracing yourself against the surface. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He snorted, quirking an eyebrow as he leaned against the counter. “Mmm. Must’ve been the wind.”

The idea of Toji knowing a glimpse of him in the shower was enough to finish you almost sent you into orbit. You knew he was goading a rise out of you, and it was almost working.

“And I’m the victim here.” you retorted sharply. “I heard you.”

His brow creased for a beat, analysing the meaning behind your words. “Dunno what you were hearing, ‘cause I didn’t fuck her. If that’s what yer gettin’ at.”

You swallowed, feeling very silly all of a sudden. “Oh.”

His eyes flashed at your sudden reclusiveness. “That’s what was pissin’ you off?”

You stayed silent, chewing your lip awkwardly.

Toji huffed a laugh, taking a few steps towards you. “There’s no way, a married woman is jealous that other people are fuckin’. Right?”

Silence.

His sudden proximity allowed you to feel the heat rolling off him, warming your skin as you averted your eyes. Your heart thrummed in your chest, and you were all too aware of your hardening nipples, poking through your dress. Toji noticed too, eyebrow quirking in realisation as he cocked his head. The silence stretched out over a handful of seconds, your back tensing.

“M’not jealous.”

A pink tongue darted out to wet Toji’s lips, and he set his bottle on the counter beside you. Long arms reached either side of you, trapping you on the counter. “Look me in the eyes and say that again.”

His voice dropped, softer now that his bright green eyes bore holes in your face. You lifted your chin and met his levelled stare. “I’m not jealous.”

Toji’s scar twitched; he was holding back a grin. A sudden movement caught your eye, and you watched his hand drift towards your thigh. It burned against your skin, long fingers wrapped around muscle to rub small circles into the flesh. Your breath audibly hitched, pulse rising as the small circles rose higher.

“When was the last time he fucked you?”

Your lids fluttered, heart now pounding in your chest. You blinked at him. “H-Huh?”

Toji moved even closer to you, using the hand on your thigh to push your legs apart a little. Your knees brushed against his hips, electricity sparking where you touched. “When was the last time he fucked you?”

“I… I don’t know…” you murmured truthfully.

“Hm,” he hummed thoughtfully, half-lidded eyes fixing you in place. “Maybe that’s why yer busy rubbin’ that pussy in my bed.”

And you made zero effort, none at all, to even try and stop him when he lowered his head to your heaving chest, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. You mewled at the sensation, the warmth of his mouth seeping through the material of your slip and igniting your chest. The scent of Toji’s cedar shampoo wafted into your face, heightening your senses in the moment. Your pussy fluttered, the remnants of your arousal from last night trickling out with a brand new flood. Toji gently nipped you through the fabric, tongue smoothing over your peak when your breath hitched in pain. He was barely touching you, and you already felt more alive then when you’d touched yourself.

“Fuck, Toji…” you moaned breathily, bucking your hips in search for friction. Your damp core met his hardening cock at a delicious angle, and the both of you groaned.

The moment was short-lived however, as the sound of a phone ringing ripped you from the depths of your mind. Toji hissed, pulling away from you reluctantly to retrieve it from his pocket.

“What.”

A man’s voice on the other end; you couldn’t make out the words, and the sound was too tinny for you to glean who it was.

Toji grumbled. “Do we have to do this now?”

He pulled away from you completely, and you frowned at the loss of contact.

“Right.” Toji moved to the space beside you, reclined against the counter top with an arm folded underneath his elbow. “Got about ten minutes.”

He engaged whoever it was on the phone, mind slipping into a professional gear to match the conversation. You watched, growing wetter from just listening to him talk. As He’d already mentioned before, you were no stranger to the inner workings of the business, and thought Toji had already left, his line of work hadn’t strayed too far from before. Despite the fact that whatever job he now spoke about was far from moral, your thighs clenched.

Your patience lasted for all of about two minutes before the cogs in your mind started turning, mischief dropping a couple of seeds in the process. Pushing yourself off the countertop, your socked feet hit the ground with a soft thump. While Toji muttered away, you gently lowered yourself to your knees, looking up at him with soft, hazy eyes. His own expression flashed warning, but you paid him no mind as you placed an open mouthed kiss to the tent in his sweats. His length was hot, throbbing under the pressure you applied, and you moaned softly at the sensation. Your lips ventured over his cock, tongue lolling over his stiffening heat while you looked up at him. Finding his tip through the fabric, you sucked hard, pulling a small hiss from his mouth.

“Yes, I’m listening.” Toji retorted with effort. “Stop dicking around, Masaru.”

At the mention of your husband’s name you froze, looking up at Toji with a drawn expression. Your heart stuttered as a familiar, aching feeling of guilt cleaved your chest. On your knees, another man’s dick was in your hand while your husband was on the phone. You almost stopped, retreating back to your room in shame, until you caught Toji’s eyes. They flashed in a challenge, lips pulling up at the corner cockily. You debated a few beats, then held that stare defiantly to tug his sweats and boxers down in one swipe.

His cock sprung up, softly colliding with his stomach. It was almost just how you saw it the day before, thick and pretty, with a bead of translucent precum oozing from the tip. But now, his shaft was decorated with veins that throbbed under the pressure. It was flushed a pinkish-red colour, the blush most noticeable at the tip that glistened in the light. Most noticeably was the change in his length, much longer now that he was hard. It was obscene, so big that taking it all in would be a struggle. Your mouth watered obscenely, and you used a hand to stroke his length, squeezing slightly to encourage more pre to trickle out. Toji’s voice had been firm up to that point, but he wavered a little at the feeling of you jerking him off.

“Okay. So what d’you need to tell him… fuck.”

He cursed at the feeling of you pressing a thumb to his slit, precum bubbling out of the sides of your finger. Your lip caught underneath your teeth as you grinned coyly at him, opening your mouth to tap him against your tongue.

“No, I just–! Dropped… something,” Toji grunted. “You’ve got five more minutes.”

You used the pause in his words to wrap your lips around his girth, grabbing the meat of his thighs to steady yourself. You swirled your grip around the parts of him you couldn’t reach, smoothing the spit that coated his tip over the entirety of his length. Toji grunted, half in acknowledgement of whatever he was being told, half in response to your tongue that licked more of him down your throat.

“Then… ask him to take the money and fuck off.”

His voice jerked as you deepthroated his entire length, eyes watering from the pressure in your throat. Your nose burned whilst you took a moment to adjust your breathing, chest heaving from lack of oxygen. You fixed your watery gaze on Toji, rubbing your sopping thighs together at the lewdness of the scene. It was a struggle to keep quiet but the thrill of it spurred you on, pushing you to move your head and swallow the sticky pre that painted the back of your throat. A steady shlick shlick shlick filled the kitchen; the salacious noise of you deepthroating him. Your belly roiled in anticipation at the soft groans that Toji uttered.

“No. I’m. Not. Gettin’ involved.” Toji hissed, wrapping a hand around the back of your head as he started thrusting into your mouth. “Only reason I’m even listenin’ is ‘cause I told you I’d… finish the job.”

After a while you gagged, the messy noise prompting you to pull off his length and catch your breath. A thin string of spit hung in the air, connecting your swollen lips to the tip of his cock.

“Don’t worry about what I’m doin’.” He muttered, moving the phone away from his ear. You’d sucked his balls into your mouth, and he took the break in conversation to compose himself. Your tongue danced over his skin, suckling softly against the flesh while your free hand stroked his length.

He grunted. “Your wife’s doin’ great by the way.”

You paused for a moment, that feeling of sickening guilt earlier morphing into disdain. He hadn’t even asked about you. And so, you turned your attention back to Toji’s cock, eager to make him finish while he was on the phone. You moaned softly as he straightened up, fucking your mouth with increased vigour in search of his tipping point. Toji’s hot length pulsed in your mouth, veins thrumming against your tongue and you traced them between thrusts. His hips faltered and rhythm broke, balls hitting your chin with soft thwacks. You whined softly, watching his brow crease in pleasure.

“Mouth’s full right now. She’s eatin’.”

At those words he broke; a load of hot, thick cum painting your tongue and throat. There was so much of it, his balls tightening against your face to spill every last drop in your mouth. So much of it that some eventually splashed up your nose; tickling you and triggering a sneeze, and a small amount dribbled out the side of your mouth. You were a mess, staggering to your feet with tear-stained cheeks and dribbles of his spend decorating your lips. Toji pulled you in by the neck and sucked the corner of your lips slowly, tongue slipping between the seam for a brief moment. Wet stringy smacks filled the air, the obscene sounds of him licking insides of your mouth making your head spiral. Your eyes fluttered shut as he stroked his tongue against yours, a needy whine rising from your throat.

He pulled away eventually, grip still secured around the back of your throat. With irises swallowed whole by enlarged pupils, he grinned as he said, “Nah. It tastes aright, actually.”

When Toji said he’d provide you with protection, you were keenly aware of what he meant.

After all, it wasn’t your first time arming yourself for a cozy day out. But this time, the implications were stronger. A weighty 9mm rested in your hands, the cool metal tingling your fingertips. You found it on your bed the next day, the safety on and a scribble of barely legible handwriting telling you to be careful. The steel stared back at you, igniting a feeling of dread that didn’t quite disappear once you tucked it away in your bag.

The first place you made a beeline for was the bookstore, ambling towards the section that housed the next instalment of a series you’d started. Reading quickly became your next favourite pastime, and provided a pleasant change of pace from your otherwise tightly strung life. In fact you picked it up with such fervour that the days Toji spent away, doing God knows what passed by slightly quicker; your attention snatched away by a perfect form of escapism.

On one of those days, you sat in a new café you’d found, sharing a rapidly diminishing slice of cake with Ijichi, who’d finally contacted you on a random afternoon off.

“And is he treating you well?” he asked smoothly.

The situation was rather amusing for you, actually. It was by your own whim that the two of you were sat together, having sought for a more friendly atmosphere than Toji’s dingy flat. At first, Ijichi had sat straight-backed in his chair, feeling out of place by your ‘unprofessionalism’. Over the last ten minutes however, he’d finally relaxed, looking much more at ease by your chatty demeanour.

“He’s alright,” you shrugged, scooping up some chocolate sauce. “Not very friendly.”

“Ah,” your companion nodded. “Unfortunately that doesn’t surprise me. He almost knocked me down when leaving your home once. It’s like I wasn’t even there!”

“You should’ve slapped him.”

“Ma’am!”

You giggled at Ijichi’s exasperated gasp, waving your hand in the air. “I’m only pulling your leg. Lord knows he wouldn’t take that on the chin.”

A comfortable silence fell, and you mushed a few fudgy crumbs with the back of your spoon. “And how’s my husband doing?”

A cloud fell over Ijichi’s face at the change in topic. “His mood has seen… better days. I’m sure you’re aware of the current situation, so he’s a lot more wound up.”

“I’m not aware actually.”

“Ma’am?”

You gestured feebly in the air. “Of the current situation. I haven’t spoken to him since I left.”

Ijichi appeared confused at that, brow creasing slightly. “At all?”

You shook your head. “I was there once, when he called Toji.” You promptly suppressed the other memories of that day. “He didn’t even ask about me.”

Ijichi bristled, your dear friend looking quite angry on your behalf. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

You chuckled softly. “Don’t be. It makes for a nice change, not having him breathing down my neck.”

Ijichi appeared conflicted for a moment, before sighing and dropping his head. His voice dropped to a lower volume. “Two more locations have fallen.”

You stiffened, throat growing dry.

“The family is preparing for the worst, but with the current high risk of intel leakage, things have gone quite awry,” he continued.

You digested the information, wondering what the hell was going to happen to not only you, but all the other people involved in the mess. With a frown, you turned to Ijichi. “You should leave.”

“I… can’t, ma’am. The job—”

You shook your head firmly, fists balling. “Not when your life is in danger, Ijichi. You being the behind the wheel significantly puts you at risk. I can’t let that happen. I can make arrangements—”

Your words were cut off, a feeling of warmth surrounding your knuckles. Ijichi was smiling at you, a tender expression gracing his features. “Thank you, ma’am. You’re a wonderful friend.” He drew his hand away, speaking more firmly. “But, I can’t. Not yet, at least. I have ears; if things take a turn for the worst, then…” He nodded. “Then I’ll leave.”

You left the warm reunion with a sick feeling in your stomach. Ostensibly, you feared more for Ijichi and the other workers than your own family. Ijichi especially, since as you stated earlier, his position put him at much higher risks of ‘freak attacks’ than anyone else; it wouldn’t be the first time that such things had happened. Despite your warning, the man’s stupid dedication wouldn’t allow him to get the hell out of there while he still had a chance. All you could do was pray, and hope that everything would resolve itself.

A week or so later, your worry for Ijichi began mingling with a small feeling of unease, but for something admittedly a lot more selfish than the wellbeing of your family.

The weight of your infidelity sat heavy on your shoulders.

Your hatred towards your husband was no revelation; that was a long-brewed result of the cold relationship you’d suffered for years. Regardless, the discomfort sat like a stone in your stomach that no amount of cooking and reading could alleviate. At first, you presumed it was because of Naoya’s unfortunate prophecy at the dinner. His malicious words hit hard then, even more so now that you’d practically confirmed his ‘suspicions’ like a puppet. You then wondered it stemmed from that small part of you that remained nineteen, stupidly giddy at the thought of marrying a man who could gift her the world. That younger version hadn’t yet lived through the torment of your current life, and for her, the thought of brushing vows aside for a few moments of pleasure was incomprehensible.

But no, the source of your discomfort wasn’t any sort of regret, for either of those facts.

It was obsession.

Toji hadn’t spoken to you once since that night, aside from the slip of paper you found on your bed.

Naivety led you to think that he felt guilty, for betraying his cousin. That was soon refuted by recollection of his sentiments towards the family, he quite literally couldn’t give less of a fuck if they all dropped dead, save the minor headache it would cause him. It hurt more to realise that he just didn’t care; in his eyes you were just another quick fuck that so conveniently happened to be under his roof. You weren’t expecting a grand show of affection or profession of love, but radio silence? Nothing at all? Your ego couldn’t take it.

So, you did what you knew best and schemed.

A pair of panties forgotten on the bathroom floor.

A bra in his underwear draw.

Your perfume wafting up from the sofa cushions.

The handful of times he was around, you clad yourself in more of those slips, pretending to forget yourself as you bent over to grab something from a cupboard. Over the next few days you continuously left small fragments of yourself all over the apartment, eager to get some sort of reaction out of him.

Payoff came on a day when he returned from a two day excursion, limbs heavy with fatigue.

You had just concluded a deep dive on an online forum, full of people that were looking to get back into work after a long absence. Just curiosity, you told yourself. That life was long behind you, after all.

A heavy clank tore your attention away from the TV, and you turned to watch Toji dump a conspicuous looking bag on the floor.

“Long day?” You asked, shifting your feet away from his designated seat on the couch.

He grunted in response, tilting his head back as he sank into the space.

“There’s blood on your hands.”

It was just a smudge, barely visible in the low light of the room, but you noticed nevertheless. Toji opened one eye, glancing at his bloodied knuckle. “Nosebleed.”

“Uh huuuh,” you drawled, cling your tongue. “First thing you say to me in almost two weeks, and it’s a complete lie.”

At that, he gave you his full attention, green eyes blinking at you sideways. “What are you talking about?”

You exhaled, muting the show and turning to face him head-on. “Are we not gonna talk about it?”

“About what.”

You bristled, patience wearing thin. “For fuck’s sake, Toji. This isn’t a confession booth.”

He crossed his ankles, outstretched limbs almost reaching past the coffee table. “Dunno what you want me to say.”

Your face fell. “Literally anything? I’ve barely seen you once, you’re always disappearing off to fuck knows where and the last time we actually spoke…” You grimaced.

“You’re not my wife. In case you forgot.”

Oh.

Anger gripped you then, so hot that your nerves tingled. “Fuck you.”

He snorted, rubbing his forehead tiredly. “Like I said. What d’you want me to say? I told you to keep me out of yer shitshow of a relationship for a reason. I can’t give you what you want.”

“How do you know what I want?”

The question was sharp. It hung in the air like a bomb waiting to drop. Toji looked at you in that silence, eyes narrowed at your clenched jaw.

“You know fuck all,” you scoffed.

“Yeah?” He chuckled dryly.

“You feel guilty,” you murmured.

Toji shook his head. “Nah. S’not that. Want me to be honest?”

You stayed silent, eyes unblinking as you matched his levelled stare.

“I couldn’t give less of a fuck about yer husband,” he drawled, rubbing his jaw. “But you feel guilty. And nothing I’ll do to you s’gonna help that. I can’t give you shit.”

Your stomach flipped at his words.

“I don’t need you to make me feel better,” you said flatly.

His tongue poked at the inside of his cheek, dark eyes fixed on you.

“You said it yourself,” you cleared your throat, twisting the silver ring around your finger. Its weight bothered you more and more each day. “I can make my own decisions.”

Toji cocked his head to the side, scar twitching. “Then what do you want?”

You stood up. Took a deep breath. Toji’s heavy gaze tracked your every movement as you held out your left hand and slowly slid the silver off your ring finger. Threw it onto the coffee table.

You stared at him. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

The hot water streamed down your back, soothing muscles sore from hours hunched over a screen.

Your words were clear enough. Even so, when the bathroom door pushed open your heart thumped in your chest. Back to the door, you could only hear the soft thump of clothes hitting the floor. You rubbed water out of your eyes, still too nervous to turn when the cubicle door slid open. With the imposing of Toji’s large figure, you were pushed towards the taps, hissing softly as the cold metal pressed into your skin.

“Pass the shower gel.”

You complied, grasping the bottle from the shelf and pushing it into his hand. Heat radiated from his body, searing your skin more noticeably than the scalding temperature of the water. Tanned skin flashed to the right of your vision, and you faltered at the feeling of his broad chest pressing into your back.

“You’re squishing me.” you sniffed.

“Hm.” Toji hummed, “Didn’t notice.”

Warm, calloused hands dragged a lather over your shoulders. They moved slowly, shifting hair aside to rub circles into your neck and upper back.

The massage was pleasant; your constant curved spine during reading sessions hadn’t done you any favours. But the aches and pains ebbed away as he gently applied pressure, and you moaned softly as his fingers meandered over your collar bones, wrists skimming over your chest.

A huffed laugh behind you.

“What?”

“That’s exactly how y’sounded when I walked past yer room the other day,” Toji said, the rumbles from his chest tickling your back.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you quipped, ever so slightly leaning into his touch.

“Yeah?”

You hummed.

Toji’s hands shifted lower, each of them grabbing a handful of your chest. Your skin was sensitive, hot to the touch, and the sudden feeling of him massaging your tits eased a sigh from your throat.

“Somethin’ like that,” he said, voice flat. He kneaded the flesh, thumbs running over your hardening nipples as you tried to keep your noises at bay. “And there was this other noise. Sounded wet.”

You moaned softly, head falling back to rest on his chest. “Toji…”

“Huh. That too,” he mocked, tweaking your nipples between thumb and forefinger. Your hips jerked backwards, another sigh trickling out at the feeling of his dick against your lower back.

“I was thinking… about you,” you mewled.

“Mhm hmm,” he dragged out the syllables, vibrations from his lips prickling your neck as he lowered his face to the crevice.

“F-fucking me,” you whispered, voice low in embarrassment.

Toji sucked a small pinch of your neck into his mouth, tongue smoothing over the soreness as your breath hitched. A groan bubbled from his throat as he slowly thrusted his cock through your ass cheeks, smushed together from how close you stood. “After you were watchin’ me in the shower, hmm?” His palms squeezed your tits again, easing another moan from you as he pulled against your peaks.

You could almost feel the hickeys forming from the pressure he applied to your neck, nipping and nibbling at your skin enough for it to sting. One of the hands cupping your tits glided over your skin, moving down until your mound was nestled against his palm. You hips stuttered, unsure whether to chase his engorged length behind you or the calloused fingers swiping against your wetness.

“Please…” you panted.

He obliged, pushing a finger into your clenching entrance as he licked against a new bruise.

The subtle stretch was delicious, and you pulsed around him. Soft pants filled the air as you relished the sensation of his finger dragging against your walls, another whine escaping when he added a second finger. He was rougher than he’d been earlier, rubbing those gentle circles into your back. One hand still grasped your tit, pinching and pulling, while the other fucked into you, more intensely now. Pleasure bubbled in your core as you bounced against him slightly, gripping for dear life on the taps you’d previously scorned.

“M’fuckkk,” you whimpered. “F-feels good…”

His fingers suddenly disappeared, and the lack of stability made you stagger a little. Just for a second, as he turned you around and pressed you against the cold tile wall. You were out of sorts, bottom lip swollen from your teeth’s assault and chest heaving as you huffed in air. Hazy eyes met Toji’s in the steamy cubicle, your knees almost buckling at the greed that flashed in them. Then, he crashed his lips into yours. One of his hands was planted somewhere above your head, supporting his weight as he devoured you. He bit your lower lip, swiped his tongue against yours and groaned while doing so. Wet smacks filled the air as he gripped your lower jaw, pressing his mouth even harder against you if it was possible. Just before he pulled away, his plush, pink lips suctioned around your tongue, pulling off of it with a wet smack while his fingers slipped back into you.

“So filthy,” he muttered, eyes drinking in the obscene image of your hips bucking to meet his thrusts. “Swallowin’ my fingers up.”

The pleasure bubbling in your core intensified, rushing at you in waves so intense your whines grew more frequent. With every push, the heel of his palm would smack against your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure up through your middle. You glanced down, eyes fixed on his dick that pressed into your thigh. He was so hard, rock solid against you, and as your skin pressed against him he hissed. His swollen tip trailed pearlescent pre over your thigh, the milky white trails drawing dirty patterns over your flesh. And your mouth watered. With a shaking finger you scooped some of it up, staring straight into his eyes as you sucked the mess into your mouth.

Toji grunted at that, and used his thumb to massage circles into your engorged clit. The new pleasure was too much, and you yelped, almost falling to the ground. The hand beside your head scooped you up, bicep pressing against your cheek as you trembled. It was delicious, the feeling of hard muscle pressing against you, and your tongue lolled out to lick at his skin as your orgasm peered over the horizon.

“Fuck.” Toji hissed, cupping the back of your head to shield you from the wall.

“M’gonna cum…” you mewled, nails digging into his skin. “Oh God…!”

You came crashing down, peak smacking into you with such a force that your hearing went out for a bit. It hit you like a truck, whines growing higher and higher in pitch until they were breathless. Toji’s fingers didn’t stop all the way through, now soaked with your arousal that even the shower water couldn’t keep at bay. Each thrust of his fingers prolonged the high, intensifying the pleasure until it gave way to slight discomfort.

As your hearing came back, you wriggled against the wall, clawing back breath. Toji’s fingers slipped from you, and he dragged the sticky mess across your cheek, shoving them in your mouth for you to clean off. Your sensitive core pulsed as he licked along the same stripe, dragging his tongue against your cheek before joining you at the lips. It was a disorientating, a disarray of fingers and lips at your mouth, but you relished in it, licking at sucking at any part of him that reached your tongue. Toji eventually pulled away, grunting at the taste of your arousal that coated his tongue.

“Bed. Now,” was all he said.

It was uncomfortable at first, the feeling of the sheets sticking to your damp skin, but your concerns soon fell away. You were perched on the end of the bed, thighs squeezed together tightly as you gazed up at Toji with lidded eyes. He was stood in front of you, hardened length a couple of inches from your face, and your pussy clenched, hard.

It reminded you of your encounter in the kitchen, tiles digging into your knees as you sucked him off. Your husband had been none the wiser, and although you were conflicted at first, the excitement of your deviance now tickled your skin.

“Get it wet f’me,” he said gruffly, wet hair dripping into his eyes.

You obeyed, leaning forward to swallow down as much of his cock as you could. The intrusion stung initially, and you swallowed down gags from the sheer size. His pre smeared against the back of your tongue as you accommodated more of him, tangy and sharp. His taste was addicting, lulling your mind into a deeper pleasure whilst your spit coated his length.

Toji groaned softly, slowly thrusting his hips into your throat. The hair at his base tickled your nose when you finally took him all in, before he pulled you off sharply. One hand wrapped around the back of your head, holding you at a distance as he used the other to jerk himself off slowly. You whimpered, pussy throbbing at the sight of his fist encircling his entire girth. Up and down, up and down he slid his hand, squeezing slightly at the base. It sounded wet and depraved, your spit allowing him to stroke his cock with little resistance. You were entranced. Beads of pre seeped from his reddened tip, dripping onto his knuckles while he forced you to watch.

“Look at you watchin’,” he chuckled lowly. “Yer mouth’s open.”

Embarrassingly enough, it was.

“Please,” you whispered softly, dragging your eyes away from his cock. “Please, Toji. Need you to fuck me.”

“Really.” He drawled, releasing you and pushing you down on the bed. “Thought so, with all yer panties that have been showin’ up.”

You swallowed, blinking up at him slowly. “Oops.”

He chuckled lowly, hovering over you as you shuffled further up the bed. “Think I found six of them last week. The fuck you been wearin’?”

You giggled coyly at that. “Nothing.”

Toji’s eyes narrowed, and he spread open your legs. His head lowered to your leaking cunt, licking a wide stripe from your entrance all the way to your clit. You squealed, thighs pressing against his palms at the pleasure and overstimulation that spiked through you. You were still sensitive from his earlier assault on your pussy, but the delight of his tongue against your cunt sent you spiralling.

“Toji…!” You mewled.

He cursed, raising his head and moving up your body. “You’re so fucking desparate.”

He sucked at your nipple, nipping with teeth as you felt the tip of his cock swiping through your pussy lips. And the feeling, the feeling was so intense that your hips jumped. Toji growled, other hand immediately snapping up to pin you down. You whined at the restriction, wriggling in his grip as he continued that torturous swiping.

“Stay still.” He grumbled, latching on your other nipple.

You tried your best, you truly did, but you couldn’t help the small jerks of pleasure that took you each time his leaky tip brushed over your clit. You were caught between him and the sheets, pussy tingling and nipples hardening as he continued his brutal assault. Each swipe of his cock smeared your arousals together, making a sticky mess beneath you that clung to the sheets.

“Please…” you whined.

And finally, he obliged. His string of patience snapped at your begging, and he pushed himself into your hole. It hurt a little, alleviated by the earlier prep his fingers gave you, but still. Toji was huge, and you properly came to terms with the fact when inch after inch of his cock pushed past your tight entrance. He tried to move slowly, but his impatience and heavy balls spurred him on, making you wriggle in discomfort. At last he bottomed out, the two of you panting into each other’s mouths at the feeling of his tip nestled against your walls.

Toji pulled his hips back, snapping back into you with such force that your nails flew to his shoulders.

“It’s… so big,” you hiccupped, eyes teary from the fullness.

“You’ve been begging me for so long,” Toji grunted, hips steadying into a rhythm. “And now you’re complanin’?”

You shook your head, moaning softly each time his hips met yours. “Feels good. Y’stretch me out so good.”

“Fuck.”

Toji’s pace increased, the room now filled with the sounds of wet slaps and sighs. Both of you had long since dried off from the shower, but now a thin sheen of sweat covered your skin, clammy where you joined. It was so wet, his dick quickly accumulated a ring of white from your cream, and you moaned wantonly at the sight of it.

“Makin’ such a pretty mess around my cock, baby,” he grunted between thrusts. “So wet f’me.”

You keened, nails dragging across his back for purchase as he hiked your thighs higher. Each time he bottomed out you’d see stars, a couple of tears sliding down your cheeks from the immense pleasure. You were so hot and so was he, sweat amplifying that lewd slapping sound when you connected.

You pulled him down for a kiss and swallowed each other’s noises, tongues swirling against each other in a sloppy embrace. He released your legs for a moment, allowing you to lock your ankles around his waist. You dug them into his back, feeling each thrust twice as your heels knocked against him.

“Fuck, y’so tight.” Toji winced, grunting to reach up and grab the headboard. The new purchase gave rise to a deeper, more intense angle, and he slowed his rhythm to a delicious roll.

“Oh—!” You babbled, nails scratching ribbons down his back. “S-So good.”

“Y’husband can’t fuck you like this, huh?” Toji said, each word emphasised by a snap of his hips. “That’s why you came here begging me for it.”

You nodded weakly, feeling your walls start to grip him tighter. “C-can’t make me cum like you.”

He grinned at you, hooking one leg back over his shoulder as he continued that brutal pace. The bed squeaked incessantly, grating against your ears. Plap plap plap! Your peak had long since been building, bundles of tension growing deep in your belly. Toji’s heavy balls slapped against your ass, and you keened at the thought of him filling you to the brim, drowning your cunt in a heavy load of cum.

“Can’t hold it…” you whimpered, pulling at tendrils of black hair at his nape. The headboard slammed against the wall.

“Shit, give it to me.” Toji hissed, maintaining those deep, forceful thrusts.

A few more smacks, and you snapped, throat hoarse from overuse. Your vision went black as you squeezed your eyes shut, and you clamped down on him hard. Toji groaned, caught in your vice grip as he fucked you through it, brow creased in pleasure. Instead of hitting you like a truck, this orgasm rolled over you in waves, each crash sending a little jerk through your spine as you sobbed.

But he didn’t stop. Toji flipped you to the side, nestling behind you as he fucked you sideways. Your orgasm began to ebb, making way for the white hot flashes of overstimulation as he bullied his way into your pussy.

“T-Toji!” You wept, gripping onto his fingers that gripped your hip.

“One more,” he hissed. “One more f’me, can you do that?”

You sucked your lip into your mouth, eager to please. The new position eased the overstimulation, and you whimpered brokenly. “Y-yeah.”

He groaned, cock fucking up into you with more fervour. “Look at you,” he tittered sarcastically. “Falling apart on my cock while your husband’s at home.”

You whimpered pitifully, tits bouncing.

“Wonder what he’d say if he could see his pretty wife like this,” he teased. “So messy.”

A sharp slap filled the air as he spanked your ass, kneading the flesh and pulling it apart to make more room for himself. “Shit.”

He was close. You could feel it, from his broken rhythm and deeper growls, vibrations alighting your overworked nerves. “Want it inside,” you whispered, panting as he drove into you. “Want you to cum inside me.”

His hips stuttered, and the tiniest whimper met your ears. “Yeah?”

“Y-yeah—!” You moaned, head feeling fuzzy. “Please, fill me up, Toji.”

His arms reached around your body, one hand tweaking a sore nipple while the other sought out your clit. He wound you up tightly, whispering filth into your ears as a stranger, deeper wave crashed over you.

“W-wait fuck, I—!”

Your final orgasm crashed over you, coming from a place so deep you sobbed. Liquid, more clear and thinner seeped from between your legs, soaking the sheets and dripping all over Toji as his peak finally hit him. He shattered then, burying his dick deep inside you as he came undone. Warmth flooded your pussy as his balls released pulse after pulse of his cum. Just like before, there was so much of it. It splashed against your walls, squelching obscenely as he fucked up into you. You could feel dribbles of it against your ass, and the rest of it coated his cock in a thin sheen on white, sticking to the sheets.

The two of you were filthy - the sheets stuck to your bodies; worsening the sensory overload. Your skin was sticky and clammy, but you were so exhausted you could scarcely move. Lingering licks of pleasure licked down your spine, racing against a couple beads of sweat. Toji slowly released his hold around you, softening cock slipping out as he moved you away from the wet spot.

The loss of fullness triggered an aftershock, and you winced at the feeling of his cum dripping down your thighs – more intensely now that nothing held it in. Sweat evaporated off your skin and you shivered at a draft, nestling closer to Toji’s chest.

He stiffened at first, unsure of what to make of your more intimate proximity.

“Relax,” you croaked tiredly. “I’m getting cold.”

A beat passed and he relaxed, gently pulling you closer.

“You’re sticky,” you grumbled.

“You don’t feel great yourself,” his voice rumbled. “And you finished all my hot water.”

You used sharp nails to pinch at his chest, irritated by his lack of reaction. “Coming from the person who trapped me in there.”

“Yeah,” he murmured into your hair, one free hand tangling into loose tresses. “Because you were so desperate to leave.”

One of your hands snaked down to pinch at his balls, but Toji’s fingers intercepted and closed firmly around your wrist. “Try it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his expense, closing your eyes as the room fell into silence. Moonlight trickled in from the window, casting a silvery hue over the room. The dregs of light night traffic echoed outside, distant car horns and wheels against tarmac reaching your ears. Your body ached from overexertion, as you lay there curled up into Toji’s chest. So much so that you wondered if the throbbing between your legs alone might have been enough to ward off sleep, but the rise and fall of Toji’s chest slowed your thoughts and heart rate to a gentle pulse; pulling back slumber’s embrace. In fact, you almost succumbed to it – if not for another sharp shiver down your back.

“Maybe we should move.”

The two of you spent the night on the sofa bed, after the state of the sheets.

You were barely able to walk, and Toji was far too lazy and tired himself to deal with the aftermath, so the relocation made the most sense. Despite the fact that physically, the two of you had been as close as two people could get, there was a certain intimacy with sleeping side by side. Especially given the nature of your relationship. It kept you up for another half hour, long after he’d fallen asleep, until your exhaustion finally lulled you into a slumber.

You woke up only a handful of hours later, eyes fluttering open to see Toji in arguably, his most peaceful state. His lips were open a crack, brow crease free and his long, thick lashes cast shadows on his cheekbones. You lay next to him, face to face, anxious at the flicker of warmth in your chest. It held a harrowing resemblance to the warmth you felt at finding that note in your bed, and at the brief moment he looked pissed at hearing of your confinement.

I can’t give you what you want.

Toji Fushiguro could not be the man that small part of you hoped he would be.

And so, you brushed your feelings aside and ducked your head under the blanket. Your mouth woke him up soon enough, and not so long you sat astride him, breathing heavily as he bounced you on his cock.

Your appetite grew as your heart did, and the two of you were practically locked at the hip over the next few days. In between his disappearances for work you’d find each other, scarcely able to hold yourselves back as you consumed, over and over again. And after that first night, you didn’t sleep by yourself again once. Even on those days Toji came back late, you wandered tiredly over to the sofa bed, pulling the covers over you in search of his proximity. He grumbled and complained initially, but after a couple occurrences you’d wake up to his arm slung around your waist. Oddly enough, you never slept in his actual bed. Maybe it felt dangerous, a crude allegory for whatever your relationship was growing to be. The sofa bed wasn’t permanent; neatly folded away after each night, akin to the sensations of his lips brushing your neck and length stirring against your back.

You knew it was dangerous, the game you were playing. But neither of you spoke of it. You joined him in the mornings for his workouts, laughing contentedly as he did his curls with you dangling from his arms. He tried to help you cook sometimes, barking back at you when you snapped at him for burning the dish. Even as you started a job search, nothing major, just a temporary part time role – he sat down with you, frown etched into his face from your surprisingly outstanding resume. You slapped him for a couple snide comments he made about the fact, actually.

A couple months had passed since then, and you’d just recently returned from a shift at the bookstore. A bowl of pasta warmed your hands as you sat cross-legged in front of the TV, engrossed in your new Netflix show.

Nothing prepared you for the way the front door slammed shut.

“Toji?”

He walked out slowly from the hall, expression drawn with the churning of his thoughts. A hand rested on his hip, and he rubbed his brow slowly. “He’s dead.”

If the bowl of food was still in your hands, you’d have dropped it. Your blood ran cold. “W-What?”

Toji exhaled, regarding you with a stare hardened by years of grisly work. “He’s dead. Car crash.”

You didn’t cry. Didn’t scream or drop, or do anything, really. You just sat there, quiet as a heaviness fell on your shoulders.

“Who was driving?” You asked softly, the image of a certain dark haired man flashing in your mind.

Toji grimaced, shaking his head. “Not sure.”

The silence was almost painful as you sat there, not trusting your legs to support you if you stood.

“They’re figuring out what to do,” Toji added, walking over to you slowly. “You’ve been asked back to the house.”

You looked up at that, sickened at the thought of having to face all of that. “They’re gonna lock me away,” you laughed mirthlessly. “Find me a ‘new husband’.”

You locked eyes with Toji. “I’m not going back.”

He crouched in front of you, that rare tenderness you were more recently accustomed to coming to the forefront. “What d’you wanna do?”

A pause, a swallow. And you clenched your fists, looking at him firmly. “I’m staying here.”

Your heart pounded. “With you.”

tags: @whatdoyouwant42741 @divineblunts @belovedria @anothergojostan @xxbookloversworldxx @fancypeacepersona @athalia-amor

Not even up to five years later, you found yourself wondering why those friends stopped contacting you, despite your many feeble attempts at reconnection. Those same excel spreadsheets you sneered at now glowed faintly behind glasses lenses and closed eyes, burned into your retinas from multiple cursed OLED displays. That faceless, soulless manager who was previously no more than a figment of your imagination now saw you as the shit smeared beneath his shoe; a target for insults and borderline derogatory emails till way past what was an acceptable sign off time. 

Coming home was no reprieve either - travelling to and from work was little more than transporting yourself from one shroud of loneliness to another. These days you found yourself sobbing yourself to sleep, waking up a few hours later with ballooned eyebags and a headache that drove Tylenol to cower in a corner. Only to do it all again the next day.

Life had a funny way of pelting you with lemons.

A substantial splash of sludge-coloured water to your shin ripped you out of your routine self-pity, right as you approached the looming doors of the office.

You cursed, holding your umbrella aloft as you glanced at the time on your shitty work phone.

8:03am.

Settling down into your morning routine was somewhat grounding; albeit monotonous. In the dingy office kitchen, you waited for the sub-par coffee to brew as you pulled up your work inbox.

Four new emails.

────────────────────

Satoru Gojo <[email protected]>

To: <[email protected]>

(No Subject)

---------

just checked the sheet for nxt mnth

the whole est. returns sect. is fudged???? pls fix.

Sent from my iPhone.

────────────────────

The poor syntax did nothing to soothe your frayed nerves. And yes, maybe it was a little petty from you, but considering the multitude of information that flooded your inbox almost every day, the lack of consideration soon became a significant source of irritation. Apparently your boss was completely oblivious to the world of insight a simple email subject would give. You’d learned the hard way to always open an email from him, lest he was informing you of an urgent task that could’ve otherwise been marked as a priority with the system or addressed in aforementioned subject line.

Today was one of those days when opening that email was beneficial.

The coffee mug was the unfortunate victim of your iron grip as you stalked back to your desk, mind running at a thousand miles per minute through all sorts of affirmations.

A small greeting smile presented itself on your face as you passed colleagues, a complete contrast to the whirlwind in your mind. You knew there was nothing wrong with that sheet. Hell, you’d been up till two in the morning ensuring it was perfect before sending it off to him. What had happened? You hurriedly loaded up the page on your laptop, internally pleading for it to be an error on his end.

Luck wasn’t on your side that day. The dreaded Excel ERROR! message blinked at you from several rows in the sheet, despite the fact that it was seemingly faultless mere hours ago.

“Fuck!” you hissed, nails digging into the skin of your palms.

Satoru Gojo, one of your beloved superiors, normally sat directly opposite you. For now, his seat was empty; he was most likely bothering one of his friends in data analytics. Thankfully your real-life interactions with him during the day were fairly limited, largely due to your own diligence but also unspoken workplace etiquette; it seemed to demand the pinging over of emails rather than face-to-face contact. In fact, Satoru was one of the worst out of the lot. You learned very quickly that attempting face-to-face communication with him likely earned you a shrug, accompanied by some unintelligible words about how he couldn’t remember and to just email him. It baffled you initially, but you soon grew unbothered when you realised how much of a stuck up piece of shit he was anyway.

────────────────────

Y/N Y/L/N <[email protected]>

To: Satoru Gojo <[email protected]>

Subject: Returns Column

---------

Morning Satoru,

Apologies, I’ll have them fixed within the hour.

Thanks,

Y/N Y/L/N

────────────────────

A couple of minutes into your work, your laptop pinged again.

────────────────────

Satoru Gojo <[email protected]>

To: <[email protected]>

Subject: Returns Column

---------

pls finish quickly, need 2 send it off to review by 9

ideally shouldve been sent before 5 prev. working day.

Sent from my iPhone.

────────────────────

For someone that appeared so concerned about meeting a deadline, he was very absent from his desk. You gritted your teeth in annoyance. He also seemed to think you slow, of course it was ideal that it should’ve been sent earlier. Despite your melancholy concerning life in general, you always did your best to ensure you didn’t slack in your job. There were some things out of your control however, such as the fact that you received the initial document hours later than the deadline, and it was already riddled with mistakes from the previous department. Said mistakes were probably the cause of current issues.

“Right,” you sighed, tucking your chair in and getting straight to ironing out bugs.

Not even up to five minutes into your work the low battery warning flashed across your screen. You’d forgotten your charger broke last night; the plastic covering had split, causing the wire to bend awkwardly. You’d emailed IT as soon as you noticed, but since then no response had come through. No one else in your team had arrived either, and you were really pushing it to the wire hoping one of them would turn up before your laptop died on you. Eventually the 5% warning pinged up on your screen, leaving you with one option. You stood from your desk reluctantly.

The tone of Satoru’s voice, very low and very unbusy carried through the air as you approached data analytics; he was chatting aimlessly about some video game, one of those stupid computer ones that all the users would insist wasn’t for kids. You’d be damned if you cared.

Your boss’ striking white hair slid into your field of view as you rounded the corner, elbow leisurely propped on a desk divider as he babbled away. Upon reaching his desk you quietly cleared your throat.

No response.

You tried again; same result.

Your eye twitched. “Morning, Satoru.”

Finally, your superior looked over his shoulder, giving you a quick once over before he turned to look at you. “Morning to you too. What do you need me for?”

You’d bet a million on the fact that he definitely heard you the first time, the man just loved to piss you off. Regardless. You couldn’t have too much of an attitude, he was regrettably still your boss and you were approaching him in need of a favour. “Do you have a charger I can borrow quickly? Mine broke and IT hasn’t got back to me yet.”

From the angle you were stood at, you had a perfect view of his icy blue eyes and the way they narrowed at your question. “You put in a ticket?”

No, you didn’t. You’d forgotten about the stupid ticket system they’d implemented. Apparently Kento, one of your colleagues on the team, had complained that all the requests they were garnering were being buried under a large number of other important emails, and they needed a new system. It had been put into place a couple weeks prior, but you still hadn’t gotten adjusted to it yet. In fact, you were surprised that Satoru had even remembered; he’d never even bothered following the old system. Normally, he’d go and pester them until they eventually gave him what he needed.

Apparently your boss put two and two together at your silence, sighing dramatically before standing upright. “Come on, then.”

The man didn’t even bother saying bye to his friend as he walked away, quite literally leaving you in his dust. You hurried after him, burying the urge to make him wait.

Satoru didn’t grant you any pleasantries as he mindlessly handed you the bundled wire on his desk.

“Thanks.” You reached out to grab the damned thing and leave, but he quickly pulled it away before you could take it.

“You break this one and IT’s gonna think we’re eating them over here,” he mocked. “I don’t need them on my case.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, nodding with substantial effort as he extended it back out to you. Again, before you snatched it away he pulled the bundle towards himself. At this point you were embarrassed, cheeks heating as you quickly checked if anyone had noticed the interaction. It was immensely unprofessional.

“Meeting at ten, by the way. And don’t forget that ticket.”

At his words you flipped your palm, instead choosing to wait for him to pass it over.

Satoru waited a beat, lips stretching into a satisfied grin at your cadence. “Great.”

At almost ten you found yourself with a little free time before the dreaded meeting. Your mind wandered a little as you reclined in your seat, closing your eyes and trying to zone out the office ambience around you.

Quite frequently, you found yourself thinking about Satoru Gojo. And not for any pleasant reason either.

Before he’d been promoted to Head of Reporting, the two of you had been on equal footing. The rapport you’d shared was amicable at the least; there wasn’t much for you to converse about outside general office small talk. The problem arose when you’d found out that your previous boss was leaving, for a better job opportunity apparently. Naturally, you had your eyes set on the position. Any bump in pay rise was a godsend in the current economic climate. You and Satoru had both made it to final conversations with the Finance Director before you ultimately didn’t make the cut. It was funny; all those people skills you were supposedly growing from parties and popularity had amounted to nothing. Conversely, one of those “nobodies” you’d have refused to hang around had surmounted you. And you knew, you knew it was childish and petty, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him after that. In your eyes you were better, much more deserving of that role than him. Some remnants of that adolescent inferiority complex had stuck, it seemed.

As far as you knew, he had no business being in that office anyway. For you, the tale was as old as time. You didn’t know where you wanted to end up in life, and were reliant on some fictional man to fund your lifestyle until reality hit you. For him it was different. Mei Mei, another member of your team informed you that Gojo had attended a rather prestigious university and earned himself a physics degree, something that had the potential to launch him into any sector he wanted. To your awareness it was something he’d enjoyed and excelled at, and wanted to pursue further than an undergraduate level degree. For one reason or the other however, he’d ended up here with the likes of you and every other run of the mill accountant. It baffled you, pondering on how someone with such alleged potential and academic aptitude wound up in a glorified copy and paste role. Then again, you didn’t know the man, and clearly your own knowledge of the world had failed you.

After hurriedly collecting your things and heading to the meeting room, you settled into your seat and set up, politely greeting your colleagues with a smile as they entered the room. Satoru was the last to enter.

It you irked you, how tall he was - with legs that seemed to go on for days and a body that balanced everything out. Broad shoulders filled out his crisp button down shirts and tapered into a waist that anyone would envy. His tailored suits highlighted his silhouette perfectly. From titbits of conversations you overheard you came to find out he spent most mornings on runs and evenings swimming, working towards this figure that you so shamelessly ogled at times. He wasn’t “big” by any standard – more so lean, but with a filled out enough figure that it wouldn’t surprise you if he also frequented the gym. If his height and body weren’t enough, his face could rival any of the male models that appeared in magazines or on your Instagram explore page. A defined jawline and full lips, with a perfect nose that pulled everything together. His most striking features were his eyes and hair, a blue and white that drew all attention to him when he entered a room.

You found yourself stealing glances at him as he set up, eyes narrowing in on his long, lithe fingers that occasionally reached up to push his glasses up.

Being blessed aesthetically only did so much for the man unfortunately. He had zero to none social adeptness; unknowingly insulting people in his conversations. Finding out he was previously a physics major also didn’t surprise you, as Satoru was also notorious for his unintentional mansplaining or lecturing, sometimes trapping people in a conversation about new developments of AI or his current coding projects that they unfortunately couldn’t care less about.

Sometimes you wondered if he felt as lonely as you did.

“Is everyone here?” Satoru spoke, pushing loose strands of his messy hair away. “Alright, let’s begin.”

You always found it difficult to not dissociate during progress updates; your division was notorious across the finance world for not being the most thrilling of jobs. Your attention became a little more anchored as Satoru brought the meeting to a close.

“Right. Thanks for all the updates, very needed,” Satoru began, arms crossed as he addressed the room. “But before I let you all go, I’ve got a small favour to ask. As of this morning, I was told that the board wants us to give a formal presentation of last quarter’s findings.”

One of your colleagues frowned. “Uh, why?”

Satoru sighed, reclining in his seat and raking a hand through snow white hair. “Yes, I know. It makes no sense. A waste of time I thought, and very last minute. But apparently they want to implement some new scheme and need a more comprehensive overview of all spendings. It won’t be a solo task, I’ve been roped in too. Any takers?”

Mei Mei pointed one manicured finger in your direction. “Sorry, sweetheart. Think it’s your turn to take on the side project.”

You frowned in indignation, mouth opened with full intentions of defending your corner, but you were cut off.

“Yeahhh,” another team member added. “Think the rest of us have taken on something at this point.”

From your right you could feel Satoru’s icy gaze burning into your skin, and you knew at this point you were delaying the inevitable. Besides, you didn’t want to be labelled as the one bringing “poor sportsmanship” to the group. You sighed defeatedly. “When do they need it by?”

“Need to send it off for review by Friday evening, ready to present the following week. Ideally we can get most of it knocked out tonight.”

It was Thursday, the day of the week usually reserved for you, a glass of wine and Bojack Horseman.  The thought of giving it up for an evening in the office with your superior made you physically ill. You shuffled in your seat. “Alright. As long as this isn’t a way for you to keep me here longer than necessary.”

Satoru’s eye twitched. “Yes. I’m not trying to kidnap you.”

You drummed your fingers on the table with the best fake smile you could muster. “Great! I’m expecting my Friday morning off for this.”

Apart from your boss you were the last to leave. In your haste you all but barraged into a passer-by; taking a narrowly-timed step back before your laptop clattered to the floor.

“Woahhh,” a feminine voice spoke gently. “Almost got me there.”

You looked up to see a woman in front of you, holding a comically deep mug of pitch black coffee. Shoko Ieiri, as your memory served you correctly. One of the only women in the heavily male dominated data science team; you’d seen her chatting to Satoru a few times. Unlike you, she appeared largely unruffled after a conversation with him.

“Oh. Sorry, Shoko,” you apologised with a light smile, hoping to not appear as miffed as you left the meeting room. “Didn’t get much sleep yesterday.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She took a quick glance over your shoulder, her soft pink lips quirking up at the corner as she looked into the room. “Ah. Don’t blame you. Gojo at this time of day? Dark.”

You chuckled in response, bundling your laptop closer to your chest. “Yeah, nothing too serious. Last minute presentation that needs doing apparently.”

She shook her head, rolling half lidded eyes with an emotion that screamed typical. “Satoru mentioned something about that. If it helps, he didn’t seem too enthusiastic about it either. Good luck.”

She gave you one last sympathetic smile before disappearing down the corridor.

Behind you, the door latch was released. Since having another conversation with your boss was not on the agenda for any time soon, you hurried off.

For your lunch breaks you always preferred to step away from the office. The city was populated with countless charming hidden spots, and in your current role you’d had the opportunity to explore some of them. One of your favourites was Ember and Aroma, an independently owned café a few blocks away.

You stepped past the store’s threshold, blanketed by a feeling of warmth; a stark contrast to the harsh autumnal breeze outside. A lo-fi beat played softly in the background, the scent of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. Since you decided to have your lunch break a little later that day, the midday rush was subsiding and you had ample time to choose a snack. A snack; yes, because the prices of some of their other items strayed a little too far from your budget.

“I knew it was you!” A triumphant voice sounded from beside you.

Utahime, you soon registered. She worked in HR, and in your few years of experience you’d only spoken to her a handful of times. She was nice enough; the few times you’d seen her leaving the office Shoko had been beside her.

And speak of the devil, “Shoko kept telling me that it couldn’t have been you. According to her, you spent all your lunch breaks in the mall.” She rolled her eyes. “I told her that was ridiculous.”

“I don’t think I’ve even been to that place once. Where did she get that from?” You raised an eyebrow.

Utahime shrugged, her jet black her falling over a shoulder. “Beats me. I have a sneaking suspicion, though.”

The barista called for the next customer in the background.

Utahime paused to look at you. “Come sit with us for lunch?”

Your kneejerk reaction was to decline, give some bullshit excuse about needing to pick something up, but you shut it down after a moment’s pause. Maybe conversing with some of your colleagues wasn’t such a terrible idea.

“Yeah, of course,” you smiled softly, finally settling on an interesting looking slice of cake.

Utahime grinned. “Great! Let me just order.”

A couple minutes later, you were accompanying her to a table outside. You weren’t able to hide your grimace at the thought of braving the dreary weather. From the looks of it, the rain was about to start again; even the seats were just narrowly protected by the awnings out front.

“I know,” Utahime tittered as you departed from the warm embrace of the small shop. “Shoko just has to have one of those silly little cancer sticks. I keep trying to get her to stop.”

You hid a small smile.

“You chatting shit again about me, Hime?” Shoko asked, an eyebrow raised as she inhaled a puff of air from aforementioned cancer stick.

You settled down in the spare seat, Utahime pushing her friend over to perch on the end of the already occupied space.

“Let’s use our context clues why don’t we?” Utahime taunted. “Anyway, more importantly, you owe our colleague here an apology. Apparently she’s never even been to that mall.”

Shoko turned to look at you with a look of veiled surprise. “Really?”

You shook your head.

“Huh,” she mused, taking another drag from her cigarette. “That’s embarrassing. And the last time I listen to anything Satoru has to say about you. Sorry, chick.”

“Don’t be silly,” you waved her off.  After a second’s consideration, you let your curiosity get the better of you. “What… exactly has he said about me?”

Utahime and Shoko shared a brief look at each other, not discrete in the slightest.

“Oh boy,” The former exhaled, warming her gloved hands with her latte.

Shoko nudged her with an elbow. “She’s being dramatic. It’s nothing objectively bad. It’s just… Satoru. And his way of saying things.”

You raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“Well, for example, that mall rubbish probably came from his idea that you’re one of those girls, you know?” Shoko began reluctantly. “I told him he needed to touch some grass, actually. What kind of idiot categorises people based off of chick flicks?”

You frowned in confusion. “One of those girls…”

“Yeah,” Utahime continued with an eye roll. “Like, the Regina George of our office or something. It made no sense.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out. “Mister Satoru Gojo has watched Mean Girls?”

Shoko snorted. “Apparently so. In fact, I think I watched it with him, y’know. Agessss ago.”

“You’ve known him for a while, then?”

“Unfortunately yes. We went to the same high school and college. Still haven’t been able to get rid of him.”

You thought about it for a second, Shoko and Satoru being friends. From what you gathered about her the match-up seemed a little odd. She gave you the impression that she had a relaxed outlook on life, choosing not to get hung up on the small things. If Mean Girls was the allegory being used, then maybe she would’ve fit in more with the loners than the Mathletes.

You leaned back and crossed your arms. “How do you do it?”

She laughed outwardly at that, eyes crinkling in amusement as she stubbed out her diminished cigarette. “Good question. Not without some level of attachment. Plus, him and our other friend were much closer. Him and Suguru were attached at the hip.”

“Really?” For some reason, this discussion about your boss’ old life piqued your interest. The bitter jabs of the wind didn’t seem as big an annoyance anymore. “Considering he has all these friends, I don’t know why he struggles to be normal with me.”

“Well. From what he’s told us, it seems to be quite mutual.” Utahime began. She then quickly threw her hands up, waving them in the air as some precautionary measure. “Not that that means we share all his opinions.”

Your cheeks warmed at that, though later contemplation of the conversation had you wondering why. It wasn’t as if you went to great lengths to hide your dislike of the man. In fact, the possibility of everyone suspecting you were being a spoiled brat over a promotion became mortifying with further consideration.

“We actually ignore most of what he says, to be honest.” Shoko shrugged. “Not to sound all ominous or whatever, but it feels like there’s some sort of history between you…?”

She trailed off at the end of her words, both her and Utahime fixing you with a comically curious wide-eyed stare.

It took a beat for you to gather what they were insinuating. “Satoru?” You asked, shocked. “Me and… Satoru?”

They were silent, and you promptly burst into a fit of laughter. “No way, would that ever be a possibility. I’m probably more likely to sleep with Mei Mei.”

“Ha!” Utahime exclaimed, slapping the table and pointing a finger at Shoko. “I told you, we weren’t the only ones that noticed. That woman’s weird as fuck.”

“Yes, yes,” Shoko waved her off, keeping those intense brown eyes on you. “Are you sure? It wouldn’t be the first time he’s ended up hating a fling.”

You were midway through a mouthful of cake when your eyes widened. “What? He’s not a virgin?”

Now it was their turn to laugh. Your cheeks warmed again as you realised your words sounded a little naïve.

“Nah, a million times no.” Utahime chuckled. “Crazy right? He’s got a serious history.”

“Yeah, and I’m here to bear witness, too.” Shoko complained, sounding a little miffed. “One too many times I’ve walked in on shit I had no business seeing or hearing.”

“Like… what?” You were surprised at yourself for even caring. All this newfound gossip on your boss was eye-opening, however. Something for you to giggle about the next time he pissed you off.

“Once he had this girl over that he was supposed to be tutoring or something. I was walking past and heard some other guy’s voice down the phone, crazy I could over all that moaning she was doing. Anyway, soon as I figured out what the fuck was going on, I left obviously. But he told me afterwards it was her boyfriend.”

Both you and Utahime let out a little gasp.

“Yeah, I know.” Shoko said grimly. “Apparently he’d called her in the middle of them fucking, and Satoru told her to pick up. For some stupid reason she did. Maybe she thought it’d be some weird porno gateway into a new relationship, I dunno. Anyway, after that, her boyfriend dumped her. She kept coming round too, asking for more ‘lessons’,” Shoko signed the mocking air quotes, “but Satoru told us that he was too busy with his projects to keep her around,” she finished, a look of disdain on her face; most likely from having to relive the story.

“No way…” At that moment in time, you probably looked ridiculous. Jaw gaped wide open, and eyes wide enough to almost pop out of your skull. But the news was revolutionary. Matching up the story with your sour-faced boss was almost impossible, but you didn’t think Shoko would lie to you. Even if she had just exposed her long-term best friend.

“The idea of him… nasty,” Utahime shivered dramatically. Although maybe not that dramatic. The wind had started to pick up again.

“Yeah, I know. Crazy, right?” Shoko muttered. “Now. Maybe we should go inside. I’m freezing my tits off here.”

Utahime was indignant when she heard, grumbling about how she was the reason all three of you were out there braving the weather in the first place. Back inside, conversation flowed freely between the three of you, even as you veered away from discussing your boss. The rest of your lunch break was pleasant as you chatted away; the minutes fleeting by. Consequently, your newfound group were so caught up in idle conversation that you were ten minutes late in returning back to the office.

The afternoon slog was a little better that day, though you found yourself quite distracted. Distracted by the focus of your first conversation with the other women, Satoru Gojo, positioned directly opposite you. You fought the urge to peer through that gap in the desk dividers and catch a glimpse of the man you’d come to know a little better; despite that strange little feeling in your chest you still felt ill disposed towards him. You hoped that come evening time, your eyes would do their job and stay in their place, as you were still to be stuck with him in that damned place after hours.

Hours later you were still fighting an urge, but against something else entirely.

It was a little after 10pm, and the last stragglers on your floor had long since departed. The sounds of heavy traffic seeped in through the floor-to-ceiling windows of your building, and the flickering city lights blanketed the open space with orange hues. It was a great help, actually. At this time, the larger overhead lights were operated by movement sensors, and you and Satoru had long given up the incessant laps around your desk cluster that you’d previously completed to trigger them again. You were now situated in the empty seat beside him, both of your desk lights on high as you grappled with the presentation. Aside from the periodic clicks of your keyboards the space was silent, an eerie cold energy filling the room. It was a little unnerving, actually, so you opted to plug in your airpods to listen to some music.

A song reverberated between your ears, and you softly hummed along in an attempt to battle off sleep. Up until now, your tasks had been simple; gathering past data and filling in the spaces that Satoru marked for you to complete. Annoyingly there was a particular section that was proving especially difficult, as you couldn’t find the necessary files anywhere. You’d searched almost every folder on SharePoint, scouring even the depths of your recycling bin in hopes of pulling the last bits of data that you needed. There were nowhere to be found however, and as the half hour mark rolled around, you gave up.

“I can’t find the data for Week 10,” you grumbled, taking out an airpod and turning to Satoru. The song filtered out from your headphone, continuing softly in the cold silence of your office. “I’ve literally looked everywhere and it’s disappeared.”

He did a strange little movement, keeping his eyes on the screen as he slowly rolled his desk chair over to you. Your focus narrowed in on his long fingers, still typing away as he gradually moved closer. He eventually tore his attention away from the screen as he crossed the threshold to your desk. “Let me see.”

You shifted your weight over to the right, moving over a couple inches as his armrest nudged yours. Satoru leaned over to grab your mouse, and a small gust of his cologne wafted towards your face.

He clicked through your files with the speed and skill of a veteran, pale blue eyes appearing almost white in the cool glare of your monitor screen. Your boss sifted through folders with ease, brow gently furrowing as he traversed through the same directories you’d done ten minutes ago with no luck.

“Have you checked your recycling bin?” He asked, turning to look at you with uncharacteristic weariness in his expression.

You nodded. “Nothing. My guess is the permissions have bugged out.”

Satoru groaned, reclining in his chair and resting his chin on a fist. “Fuck’s sake. I’ll check it out, I probably still have access to it.” He paused. “You want a break?”

“Read my mind.”

Satoru scooted away from you, moving back to his desk and closing his eyes for a moment’s reprise. He looked different at that time, when the day was drawing to a close. Although it wasn’t the first time the two of you had stayed behind later during a busy period, it was the first time you were together alone; with him as your boss. You found yourself watching him, a small feeling of disgust building as you enviously took in the softness of his features.

“I can feel you staring at me.” Satoru deadpanned, eyes still shut.

You rolled your eyes, tearing away your gaze. How did he even notice? “I didn’t know you and Shoko were so close.”

At that, Satoru opened one eye, studying your expression with it. “Yeah. Known her for a while.”

You hummed. “Didn’t expect it. You’re both so… different.”

Satoru snorted. “And I didn’t expect you two to become best friends all of a sudden.”

You bristled at his words, childish irritation brewing at the sarcastic tone. “I never said that. We just got lunch together and it came up.”

“Oh yeah?” Your boss grinned. “What did she have to say about me?”

Your face warmed as flashes of all that moaning and serious history ran through your mind. A cough. “Nothing crazy. Just college life.”

You were surprised at yourself, at the sudden willingness you had to entertain a conversation, especially at this time. It was uncharacteristic of you, but you boiled it down to simple curiosity, especially after said lunchtime conversation.

“Ah,” Satoru murmured. “Yeah, nothing crazy.”

You paused, debating if you were selling out your newly made friend, before you decided that it wasn’t a huge issue. “She told me that you said I’m some Regina George.”

Both of Satoru’s eyes flew open at that. Maybe he wasn’t expecting you to bring it up. “Uh huh.” He sat up in his chair, folding over his arms as he watched you blandly. “You don’t think it’s fitting?”

“Uh no? She’s a bitch? I don’t remember acting like that towards anyone in this office,” you spoke indignantly.

“Really?” Satoru asked drily. “You hate me. For no apparent reason, too.”

And there it was, a sentence that had hung in the air ominously before it was spoken. Satoru’s outright confrontation made you wiggle in your seat uncomfortably. “No I don’t.”

He chuckled at you, finding your discomfort somewhat amusing. “Yeah, and I’m Elvis Presley. Ever since all that stupid office drama about that promotion, you’ve literally looked at me like the shit underneath your shoe. What, because you missed out on a fuckin’ pay rise?”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. He spoke about it as if it was meaningless. That promotion meant a lot to you. Money aside, it was a chance for you; an opportunity for you to prove to yourself that you were more than a stupid young girl that thought she could have everything she wanted handed over to her. “You don’t know anything, Satoru.”

“No.”

He leaned forward, a grin on his face that screamed ingenuity. “No, I think I do. You do hate me. And you hate the fact that someone like me got ahead of you.”

It was a truth that you rarely allowed to leave your subconscious, and here he was, throwing it all at you on a Thursday night.

“What are you talking about?” You hissed, all professionalism flying out of the window. “Acting as if you know fuck all about me.”

“No?” Satoru taunted. “You think everything should be handed to you on a silver platter. Never had to work a day in your life until you wound up here.”

You stood up, a wave of anger washing over you. “Leave me alone, Satoru.”

He met your outburst of emotion with a challenge, standing up with hands in his pockets; just to look down at you. “I’ve heard you complaining to Mei Mei. But you don’t like her either, right? She’s weird, but pathetic enough that you can just rant at her whenever you want and she won’t say anything.”

Your face dropped at that. “You’re… talking so much shit.”

“Come on,” Satoru goaded as he took a step towards you, eyes glinting with malice. “You’re better than her too, aren’t you?”

You took a step back, cheeks warming each time he spoke. “No, I’m not. You’re just making shit up.”

Satoru waited, looking down at you with an expression of such disgust that your stomach was doing flips in anxiety. He’d never been this visibly angry with you, even if it was cloaked beneath a thin veil of saccharine sarcasm. It felt like those ice blue eyes of his were peeling back your layers, exposing each surface of you that you’d never faced yourself.

“Okay then,” he spoke softly. “Fine. So what exactly have I done to you? To warrant this attitude.”

You balled your fists up, suddenly re-finding your ability to speak. “You knew I deserved that position, Satoru. Stop being a dick about it. I put so much effort into proving that it should have been me.”

He shrugged. “And? What’s that got to do with me? Was I supposed to sit back and just give you what you want?”

Your words left you again.

“Exactly,” he scoffed. “Nah, that wouldn’t have been right anyway.”

He took more steps towards you, pushing you back until your thighs were pressed against the edge of the desk and he was far too close. Too close, until with every breath you were inhaling the scent of his lingering cologne, fresh and earthy.

“You needed me to take the position, actually. To show you that life isn’t fair. You don’t always get what you want.”

You held your breath, anger flashing in your eyes as you refused to break the eye contact.

“Shoko said she told you about some girl I was involved with, back in college.” Satoru spoke so lowly, you could hear a pin drop. Even the sound of the relentless traffic outside had faded away into silence.

“Apparently you were so curious about what I got up to,” he grinned. “Hm?”

You mouth opened and closed, eyes finally looking away from his in shame. You’d greatly underestimated her loyalty to her long-time friend, it seemed. Stupid.

“I even forgot about it until she brought it up. You remind me of her, though.”

Your lip curled in disgust. “Don’t compare me to her.”

Satoru laughed. The toes of his dress shoes were now up against your heels. “She talked like you too, telling me every time we met up that she was only there to save her degree. Apparently her parents threatened to pull her from college if she failed the year.”

A beat.

“But then, she had a change of heart. Not sure why. You got any guesses?”

Your heart dropped, so incomprehensibly embarrassed that you couldn’t look at him.

Satoru hummed. “Well. After that, she was so eager to continue with her tuition. Even after her boyfriend caught her. She mellowed out. Maybe that’s what you need.”

Warmth began to grow in your lower stomach, your heart beating rapidly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No?” Satoru murmured, half-lidded eyes focusing on your lips. “Need me to show you?”

The faint thrums of desire licked over your skin, spreading to your core as you looked at him. At first glance he seemed unbothered, waiting for you to find the gall to say anything. But upon closer inspection, his cheeks were dusted with a faint pink hue, eyes shiny with want. Satoru’s hands were still in his pockets, but his face was so close to you that you could see the almost invisible dots of stubble above his lip.

One of his hands reached up to your shirt; he used a finger to hook the dangerously low neckline and pull you closer. You braced yourself, expecting him to pull you into his lips. Instead however, he dragged his finger down with force, popping the buttons of your shirt clean off.

You gasped in indignation, lips pulled in a displeased grimace as you glared up at him.

“What?” He breathed with a smirk. “Expensive? Sorry.”

You were about to snap at him, but your words were abruptly cut off by the feeling of his warm hands against your chest. Your head dipped backwards as he encompassed your flesh, firmly kneading your tits as you sighed softly.

“Hmmm,” Satoru hummed, the pads of his fingers curling underneath the neckline of your bra. You couldn’t help but watch, a steady beat pulsing in your core as he pulled it down and released your breasts.

He groaned softly, lips parted slightly as he stared. You felt out of it, almost as if you were in a trance as he trailed his palms down your waist, feeling the contours of your body before they reached your thighs. He cupped them and lifted you up, situating you on the desk effortlessly.

“Been wanting to do this since the first time you snapped at me.” He murmured, using both hands to brace himself against the desk. Your boss began gently lowering his head to your chest, glasses slipping down his face slightly. When tufts of his snow white hair began tickling your chin, you felt warmth on one of your tits, his tongue dragging against the expanse of your chest. You couldn’t help the sigh that left your throat at the sensation, brows furrowing in pleasure as you closed your eyes.

Satoru licked and sucked at your chest, groaning softly as you panted into his hair. Every now and then there was a sharp twang of pain as he nibbled you, pulling the flesh into his mouth with pressure before soothing the area with his tongue. When you felt that warmth encompass a nipple, you bit your lip to suppress a whimper.

“Pretty tits,” he whispered, bringing up a hand to pinch and pull a your other nipple. You could barely breathe; each time you went to inhale he smoothed a tongue over the peak, pulling it into his mouth and sucking hard.

“Mmmm, Satoru…” you moaned breathily, raising a shaking hand to pull at his hair. To your surprise, at the feeling of your manicured nails against his scalp, he let out a whimper.

You responded eagerly, running your nails across his scalp as he continued to suck at your breast, using his other hand to roll your nipple between a thumb and finger. You couldn’t help pressing your thighs together, growing wetter with his accelerated ministrations.

Satoru suddenly pulled away, his glasses fogged up a little from the heat you were emanating. He pulled them off and threw them to the side absent mindedly, gazing down at you with an expression so full of lust you felt a particularly long release of wetness drool from your cunt.

You pouted in the absence of his touch.

Satoru, in all his loss of sense, still found it in himself to grin at you wolfishly. “That all it takes?”

“Please,” you whimpered, looking up at him through your lashes. “More,”

Your boss fixed you with a stare, expression impossible to decipher as you waited. “Let’s work on those manners, hm? Starting now.”

You slid off the desk, watching him with mild hatred that was ultimately dominated by lust. You turned around, digging your thumbs underneath the waistline of your skirt. With a glance over your shoulder to confirm his gaze was still on you, you bent over and pulled, shimmying your skirt down until it crumpled at your feet. “Please, Satoru. Need you to touch me.”

He sucked in a breath at the sight of your thong beneath your sheer tights, hands reaching out to grab and knead at your ass. “Hm. Sorry, princess.”

You were confused for a beat, until the sound of a ripppp! filled the silence. He’d torn your pantyhose down the middle, pushing your back slightly until you supported your weight on the desk. Over your shoulder, you saw him crouch down to slide of your heels, warm hands wrapping around your ankles as he removed the tights completely.

“Put your heels back on,” he murmured, kneeling down as he pulled you closer from your hips. You obeyed, slipping your shoes back on just in time to feel his nose nudge your entrance.

“Fuck, you smell good.”

That same sensation of his tongue resumed on your pussy, warm tongue dragging up your slit. You almost crumpled at the friction, relishing in the feeling of your thong pulling up against your clit. Satoru seemed to be growing impatient as quite literally made out with your cunt, lips sucking your skin into his mouth and tongue scooping up every drop of arousal that dribbled out. His nose nudged against your entrance as he sucked at your clit, humming contentedly as he ruined you. You were slowly becoming a mess.

“Satoru, umph! Please…!” You whined, pushing your hips back in a search for more friction.

Satoru kept a languid pace, switching between licking you up and down and allowing his tongue to circle your clit. You unravelled more with each passing second, soft whimpers amplifying into moans as he forced you to take it all. He pulled away all of a sudden, using his weight to spin you around and settle you on the desk again. One look at his face sent you reeling; his saliva and your arousal smeared all over his lips and chin in a filthy mix. There was a wild look in his eyes, almost animalistic as he knelt down and dove back in. This time with increased fervour.

You couldn’t help but keen as he devoured you, breath hitching at the feeling of one his fingers circling your entrance.

“So wet f’me,” he grinned, and you shivered as he spat, a nasty mixture of your arousal and his saliva hitting your clit and slowly dribbling down. “Don’t want to stop.”

You squealed as he used his middle and forefinger to rub at your clit, massaging in short, firm little circles as you bucked your hips. “’Toru, please!” You whined.

“I don’t know what you’re asking, princess,” he teased, eyes low as he watched you from below. “Use your words.”

“Oh…” you moaned. “Inside. Wanna feel your fingers inside.”

He obliged.

The ambience of the office was soon filled with the filthy squelching of your cunt as he slipped two fingers in, pumping in and out of you at a delicious pace. You were panting, unable to regulate your breathing as he continued slurping at you. You’d tried to hold it back, but the feeling of your rapidly approaching peak encompassed any logical thought in your brain.

All you could do was feel, the pressure of his fingers digging in your pussy and pressing against that spongey spot in the front. The sensation left you for a moment, and you almost cried at the absence of sensation. But Satoru stood up, using his free hand to wrap around the back of your neck and pull you into a desperate kiss. You whined into his mouth, relishing in the taste of your arousal that seeped into your taste buds. His lips mashed against yours; a desperate attempt from the both of you to consume each other. You pulled at the hair at the base of his neck, trying to ground yourself against the feeling of his long fingers fucking into you. Satoru sucked on your tongue, hard, before pulling away.

“Open your mouth f’me,” he panted.

You obeyed, sticking your tongue out as you waited patiently. He spat into your mouth at the same time that his thumb returned to your clit, massaging those small little circles that brought you teetering to the edge. Your skin seemed to explode into heat as he pulled your orgasm closer and closer.

“’Toru, M’gonna…” you whimpered, leaning back on your arms and nibbling your lip.

“Mmmm, good girl. All over me, make a mess on my fingers.”

The feeling of his other hand coming up to roll at a nipple sent you over the edge, and all but squealed as your orgasm washed over you.

“Oh, God…” you sobbed, hips and shoulders jerking as he continued toying with you. Your nerves felt they were on fire as arousal seeped out of you, flashes of white taking over your vision as your back arched in pleasure. You were sure he laughed at you, watching in amusement as he prolonged your finish. The pleasure soon grew into overstimulation, pangs of discomfort stabbing your clit as he eventually released you.

Satoru was filthy, you concluded. Behind wet lashes and heavy lids, you saw him stare at you, ice blue eyes penetrating your skin as he sucked his dripping fingers into his mouth. You matched his fervour, watching in compliance as his tongue licked every drop of you from his hand.

“This whole time, this is what you needed,” he teased, pouting at you mockingly. “Rolling your eyes and staring down that pretty nose at me, and look at you now. Want me to fuck you?”

You nodded feebly, barely able to register the embarrassment that still pressed at the back of your mind.

He snickered, relishing in  your vulnerable state as he nodded to the floor. “On your back.”

You should’ve felt embarrassed, really, at how you pulled yourself up on shaking legs, almost falling to the ground in the process. Satoru didn’t help you either. He watched carefully as you lowered yourself to the floor, sitting down obediently with your legs crossed to the side. He joined you soon after, kneeling in front of you and dropping his hands to unclasp his belt. From the looks of it, he was huge. His length strained against the fabric, and you could tell from his expression that it was sensitive. You watched like a hawk, eager to please and unable to form a coherent thought as he pulled the strap from the loops. Satoru looked ethereal, almost unreal, in the dim glow of the desk lamps. His soft features were a stark contrast to the debauched way he’d mingled with you.

“So obedient,” he sighed, lips parted in pleasure as he pulled himself free.

It was so pretty, if such a word could be used in the context. He was long, with a slight curve upwards. His tip was flushed pink, gleaming in the soft light from the pre that dripped from his slit. His hair was trimmed short, and your mouth, to your later dismay, watered at the sight.

You pressed your thighs together as he slowly stroked himself in front you, moaning softly as he leaned over you. “Spread your legs for me, princess.”

You did as he asked, ignoring the way the sticky mess between your thighs turned you on more. Satoru was enthralled, watching intently as your lips pulled open. He didn’t provide you any warning as he used a hand to lift one of your legs, holding it against your chest. With his free hand, he scooped some of your wetness, spreading it over his cock and smoothing it over with a palm.

“Look what you’ve done to me,” he whined, rotating his wrist as he gently stroked himself over your throbbing cunt. You were entranced as you watched, pussy fluttering at his pretty grunts each time he pumped his hand. “Fuck, it hurts.”

Oh, Lord.

Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, completely overcome with lust at the filthy way he pleasured himself over you. You moaned brokenly as he tapped his cock over your slit, guiding it to slide through your folds and nudge your clit with each thrust. He was smearing your cum everywhere, dragging cock around your ass and spreading the wetness up your thighs. It was maddening.

“’Toru, just fuck me, I can’t,” you panted, your nerves fraying with his prolonged teasing.

“Hm?” He taunted, finally looking up at you with that devilish gleam in his eye. “What was that?”

“Fuck me, please.” You pleaded.

“Sorry, don’t think I’m hearing you princess,” Satoru continued, releasing himself and resting that hand beside your neck. To your dismay, he continued rubbing himself against you, dick sliding through your lips as he lazily thrusted his hips.

“You want me to beg?” You snapped.

He paused for a moment, a playful expression across his face. “How else am I supposed to know what you have to say?”

“Please, Satoru. Please, fuck me. I need it,” you begged, tears pricking in your eyes from pure frustration.

“Atta girl,” he smirked, reaching down to guide himself into your warmth. “Maybe if you’d asked me this prettily for that promotion I would’ve caved.”

You didn’t have a moment to register what he said, immediately feeling the pressure of his length pushing past your entrance. It hurt, the stretch of your walls as they pulsed, trying to accommodate his size.

“F-Fuck,” he groaned.

You were unable to form any words, nails reaching up under his shirt for any semblance of stability. You keened as he pushed himself in, blinking away the tears as he shushed your small mewls of pain.

“I know, princess,” he tutted, slowing down his movement as his tip breached your walls. “I know, just breathe.”

The softness of his words, talking you through the initial discomfort soothed your nerves, a stark contrast to the brutal teasing he’d just put you through. With each breath you took, he pushed in further and the discomfort became overtaken by a pleasurable fullness. There was so much of him, you found yourself wondering when it would stop. Until it did, and his tip was gently nestled in your walls.

“Good girl,” he murmured, slowly rocking his hips in and out of you. “Fuck. Taking me so deep.”

You mewled in response, clinging onto his shoulders as he fucked into you harder. The sound of skin on skin became louder as Satoru put more force into his thrusts, grunting softly. He settled into a rhythm as you moaned, giving you more each time he pulled out.

“Feels so… so good,” you choked, staring up at him with wide, watery eyes.

“Yeah?” He coaxed, smiling down at you with a strange tenderness. His lowered his face to yours, and you gasped at the feeling of his lips sucking up a tear from your cheek. “You’re crying, princess. Such a good girl for me.”

Satoru started fucking into you harder, setting such a brutal pace that you jerked against the carpeted floor. You sobbed at the feeling, heels scraping across the floor as his skin slapped against yours. You were barely even there anymore, indulging yourself in the feeling of his balls slapping against your ass and the wet smacks that filled the air.

“You like when I talk to you like this, hm?” Satoru murmured, trailing his hand to grip at your hip. “I can feel you clenching around me, fuck.”

It was obscene, the image of you sprawled across the floor, moaning in a broken voice as your boss defiled you in the office. You hair had began to stick to your face and neck with the thin sheen of sweat you were developing, Satoru’s back also clammy as your stiletto nails dragged streaks across it. His pupils were wide in the darkness of the office, lips pink and swollen from kissing you and eating you out. His hair was tousled from your earlier ministrations, framing his pretty face in a sinful haze.

With that hand on the back of your thigh, Satoru pressed you into a meaner mating press, his shirt buttons dragging over your nipples as he drove into you again and again. He sounded as if he was in a trance, grunts and soft groans sending soft breaths over your cheek.

“I c-can’t take it,” you squeaked. “’S too much!”

“Yes you can, pretty,” your boss tittered. “Look at you, making such a mess all over me. You’re gonna stain the floor, you’re so fucking wet.”

You could only cry in response, cunt drooling more at his words and squelching with each intrusion from his length. “Hurts so good.”

“Mmm,” hummed. “I can’t take it,” He mocked, chuckling at your expense.

His mocking words set your skin on fire, back curving as that same pleasure licked at your spine. “You’re s’mean.”

Satoru laughed. “It’s pretty ironic you’re saying that.”

He released your leg, pulling the other one up until they were both bent at the knee. The newfound angle felt all the more intense, his dick hitting places in your cunt that had never felt any sensation before. “I’m the mean one, yet you’re allowed to go around running your pretty little mouth to anyone you want, yeah?”

You choked back a sob. “’M sorry, ‘Toru,” you whined, hands slipping down to grab at his ass. “’M sorry for… ngh! Acting bitchy.”

“I know, princess,” he soothed. “I know. I’m not angry at you, I promise.”

For some reason, his words eased your guilt. You felt drool slipping from your lips, eyes hazy as you watched Satoru above you. His thrusts were so harsh, your walls barely had time to relax as he drove himself deeper and deeper. The spikes of pleasure to your core had increased in frequency and amplitude, a telltale sign of your incoming orgasm

“God, ‘m gonna cum,” you moaned, head lolling to the side as your mins slipped from you.

“Uh uh, not yet. Want you to wait a little longer for me princess, can you do that?” Satoru grunted, hands running all over your hips and ass.

You nodded meekly, tensing your core in an attempt to keep your peak at bay.

“Fuck.” Satoru hissed. “You’re squeezing me so tight, I can’t… ugh.”

He was getting closer too; you could feel his resolve weaning as he lost himself to the vice grip your cunt had around him. The wet slaps of his pelvis meeting your ass had you seeing stars, a pleasure so impossible that you knew no one would ever have you in this state again.

“S-so pretty,” he groaned, leaning down to suck at your tits again.

You squealed. “’Toru, I can’t…!”

“It’s okay, princess, you’ve been so good for me. ‘M gonna fill this cunt up till it’s dripping out of you.”

One of his hands reached down to toy with your clit, massaging shapes into it rhythmically as his hips stuttered.

“Oh s-shit, I’m cummingcummingcumm—!” You squealed, clamping down on him as your orgasm hit you with a weight it never had before. Your toes curled in your heels, one of them snapping as you dug your heels into the ground. Your body felt weightless for a moment, vision abandoning you as you borderline screamed. Tingles encompassed every fibre of your being as you rode the wave, Satoru’s voice a comfort as your mind ripped away from you.

He continued fucking into you, his pace becoming more irregular as he waited for you to come down. “Good girl, you’ve done so well for me.”

As the waves of pleasure subsided a little you came back, too numb to even register the overstimulation that was brewing in your belly.

Satoru leaned down to kiss you, groaning into your mouth as your tongues glided over each other. His hair tickled your forehead, and reached up to give it another harsh tug.

“Fuck, I’m gonna—”

A feeling of warmth flooded your pussy as he gave you a final thrust, hot cum filling in you in never ending waves. The angle he pushed into you nudged him against that sensitive spot near the front of your walls, immediately sending you into another crashing peak. Your back arched, pushing your chest against him as you mewled weakly. Unlike the first time, this finish hit you in slow, deep waves, your walls pulsing around him greedily to claim every last drop that he offered you. It was mind-numbing, leaving you writhing against him as the waves eventually subsided.

Satoru pulled out of you and collapsed beside you, the both of panting to reclaim the air you’d been deprived from.

“Satoru?”

“Hm?”

“Are we still gonna finish that presentation?”

Your boss fixed his clothes before rummaging in a bag below his desk. He handed you a spare hoodie and some joggers, which you received gratefully - considering the current state of your clothes.

“Not sure,” he mused from behind you.

You turned around after dressing yourself, to see him brandishing your snapped heel in one hand, the broken shoe in the other.

“Maybe we should take this as a sign.”

The next morning was hellish.

You didn’t even know if you had the balls to show up in the office after the ordeal that was the night before. Hangxiety wasn’t a foreign concept to you, but “after-sexiety” was an emotion you were trying to grapple with. You found yourself nervously considering if there were any cameras around your desk, but racking of your brain brought you no comfort. You weren’t sure if a newly brewing friendship with Utahime could spare you from that HR catastrophe if you were unlucky. As you motioned through the morning’s activities, you found your mind replaying everything that went down, especially the tiff you and your boss had shared before.

You sighed, spitting out the last of your toothpaste and staring at yourself in the mirror.

Bruises were dotted all over your chest, forming what would be the start of a week-long bittersweet reminder of your poor decisions. It wasn’t that you regretted anything, but the entire experience had forced you to take a new perspective on your previous interactions with your co-workers, especially Satoru.

As you began your commute, you found yourself wondering if it would be too much of a leap to hand in your notice.

Satoru Gojo was no fool. He knew exactly why you hated him.

Matter of fact, Satoru was very well acquainted with the fact that his presence seemed to be more tolerated by you than welcomed. Prior to the events of the night before, he found himself reaching some sort of apathy towards you. He liked to consider himself confrontational when the need arose, but with you, all he saw was a petty, spoilt child that hadn’t grown out of her childish ways.

In truth, Satoru didn’t know how he felt about you. You did occasionally get on his nerves, whenever you made silly mistakes that had him cleaning up after you, or in the small interactions the two of you had that would be unnecessarily charged with irritation. Not to mention how you were so clearly bothered by his ineptitude with correct email formatting. Was such a minor issue that detrimental to your work performance?

But, Satoru would be absolutely lying to himself if he claimed that he would much prefer if you never spoke to him at all. Because despite the fact that he hated, absolutely hated the way you looked down your nose at him, or the way your lip curled at his blunt remarks, an increasingly larger part of him revelled in it. That sick part of him indulged in the few times that you lost some of your professionalism, challenging him and his “authority” when he was really being a dick.

Despite all this, Satoru was very much aware that you were co-workers. Hell, he was arguably in a position of power. You were both technically on the same level, but with his recent project managerial roles he’d gained a bit more sway. Before, the most he could do with you was slip in a sly remark every now and then, but he’d never taken the full step. Not from fear of rejection, either. He knew you. Maybe it was a little conceited, hypocritical of him even, considering what he’d confronted you about the night before. But still. He’d come across the likes of you before, and eventually he managed to make it go away. He just hoped that from now on, he could get on with his life attitude free.

tags: @heeknow @xxbookloversworldxx

You rolled your eyes, holding the intercom button for your headset and mumbling a half arsed apology to the old man.

The mundanity of sticking yellow labels on stale sandwiches wasn’t much of a reprise, but better now than later, trying to juggle the task with managing the till after 5pm.

A static ridden Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter fizzled out from the rattled speakers for the third time that day. You made a mental note to switch the radio station when your manager next stepped out for his smoke break.

Mid-way through peeling off a rogue yellow sticker from your finger a faint cigarette smell entered your bubble. Eyes widening, you hurriedly stood up, expecting to see your pot-bellied manager about to besmirch you for something new. “I’ve just finished up here, I’ll go sort th─”

In that moment, you were thankful that it wasn’t your manager. In hindsight, you wished it was.

It was a customer; a broad-shouldered, muscular, 6’2 mountain of a man who had to have been at least twice your age. With a half present expression on his face, he’d fixed you with a largely irritated stare, green eyes half closed and devoid of any warmth.

“Oh, sorry.” You laughed a little too loudly. “I thought you were my manager, I-”

“Yeah. You mind serving me, missy?” He cocked his toward the counter, scarred lip twitching as he spoke.

Your eyes darted down, finally noticing the myriad of items he was sporting. “Um, yeah, yeah. Of course. Sorry, I was just preoccupied with…”

You wavered off at the end of your sentence, noticing that he hadn’t even registered your words and was already lumbering over to the counter. With a swallow to help alleviate your dry throat, you scurried after him.

The adverts for the radio finally ended, and a fuzzy recreation of Escapism by Raye filled the low ambience of the store. The beeps from the register were uncharacteristically louder than usual as you scanned his items, accompanying the mortified thumping of your heart from your encounter. Occasionally, you would push something across the scanner and his long, impatient fingers brushed against yours. Very unintentionally too you would add. While each touch had you frantically glancing up at him to share in some meaningless exchange of words, he seemed otherwise unaffected or completely oblivious.

“Some Marlboro Golds too.” He grunted, unceremoniously dumping the last pack of minced meat in the bag.

You nodded, turning away to grab a pack off the shelf. “Anything else?”

“Nah.”

“Thirty-two ninety then, please.” You shifted your weight between feet, holding back winces at the pain from being stood for hours. An attempt was certainly made in being discrete while observing the man digging around in his back pocket for a wallet. He had a mop of black hair, crudely cut in a way to clearly just keep it out of his face. It seemed to work for him though, adding to his overall scruffy, rugged appearance. Ogling his figure was a bit more of a challenge with the tattered brown-green jacket he wore, but your eyes honed in on the skin that exposed itself while he reached for his money. Tanned, with the hint of a v-line poking out from his stained jeans. Even when he pulled out a few notes, the money looked like the Monopoly equivalent in his grip, dwarfed by long fingers that could singlehandedly wrap around your arm.

You hurriedly averted your gaze as you noticed him fixing you with deadpan eyes, the ghost of a smirk on his lips as he caught you staring him down.

Rummaging around in the cash drawer for his change relieved some of the stuffy air around your face, and you quickly sent him off with a general thank you and please come again before he sauntered out of the door.

You grimaced, feeling a pathetic wave of embarrassment and self-pity at the god-awful interaction. Looking at the time provided no reprieve either; your eye twitched at the mocking blink of the clock on your screen ─ four hours left till the end of your shift.

Waking up for work at the ass crack of dawn was never easy. Not to mention, you were still supposed to be asleep. It was only last night that your boss had texted you, pleading for you to cover for the other girl that worked with you. Apparently, she had tonsillitis and needed to visit the doctor’s for a prescription. You were initially tempted to rat her out, remembering very clearly how she giggled to you during handover that she was spending the night at some boy’s house the next town over. A small spike of bitterness, pathetic since she was one of the only acquaintances you had. Everyone else had moved on with their lives. Who were you to decline, especially when you quite literally needed the money. You’d reluctantly agreed.

The next morning continued to be a struggle, largely since the shower suddenly decided to run ice cold. You ran out gasping and heaving with temperature shock, beginning to regret your decision. It didn’t help that you were already late. Before the change in plans you were already halfway through smoking a joint and binge watching some garbage on Netflix, a terrible mix for an early start. At least the shower’s frozen onslaught managed to beat the remainders of sleep out of you. The remaining fifteen minutes in your apartment was spent barraging your incompetent landlord with calls in an attempt to get your water working, but to no avail.

Still, all things considered you managed to get into work only ten minutes late, apologising profusely to your less than pleased manager and speeding through opening up in an attempt to compensate.

A couple hours later you were stood mindlessly at the till, scratching away some of the grime with a loose penny when a customer walked in. Your heart seemed to stop for a moment when you recognised the man you served yesterday. He didn’t even notice you, releasing an exaggerated yawn as he disappeared behind the bread stand.

You fixed your posture in anticipation, applied a quick layer of lip gloss and completed a couple smell checks just as he approached. It was unfortunate that the uniform you threw on that morning had been sat in a suspicious pile in your room; your fleece jacket sported an odd-looking stain that you vaguely remember brushing off multiple times already that week.

The man dropped a fifteen carton of eggs on the counter, hardly sparing you a second glance as he reached into his pocket again.

For some unknown reason you felt a spike of confidence that morning, deciding fuck it after you’d already had a considerably shitty start to your day.

“Forget these yesterday?” You asked nervously.

You wanted to slap yourself when the return customer paused for a beat, studying your face. “Huh?”

Well.

In his defence, Toji Fushiguro was far too preoccupied with the scratch cards he saw behind the till. It took him a few seconds before recognition settled in and your face became familiar.

“Oh. Yeah. Woke up and had no breakfast.” He offered, internally hoping you’d just leave him alone. He never enjoyed talking much to service workers, it was all the same rubbish that they spewed in hopes of getting a measly promotion. Some small kernel in the far depths of his mind felt a little bad at your crestfallen expression though, so he decided to entertain you that day.

You beamed, gently putting the eggs in a carrier bag as you chatted. “Well that makes two of us. I didn’t get a chance this morning after my shower decided to give up on me.”

Toji held eye contact with you, doing his best to pretend he remotely gave a shit.

Where were those fucking coins?

You babbled on, rambling about your “deadbeat” landlord that you seemed to hold some disdain for. Your words went in one ear and out the other as he dug around in his pocket; a futile attempt at scrounging up the very change you gave him yesterday. Eventually he gave up.

“Yeah, shitty way to start the day.” He muttered, patting his pockets absentmindedly.

“Forget your wallet?” You asked, round eyes watching him through your lashes. For someone who had just been complaining you appeared a little eager that morning. His ego concluded that you were just enjoying his unintentional lingering too much, a fact that made the cogs start turning in his head.

“Must’ve left it at home.” He paused for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly as he wondered how to approach the situation. “Hate to ask you this kid, but d’ya think you could help me out this time?”

He noticed you shift a little, eyes drifting over to the door to the back of the shop, presumably where your boss was. “I mean, we’re not supposed to, but…”

Toji’s usual blunt tactics needed a little refinement, apparently. “Ah.”

He faintly recalled you mentioned something about your shower. “What if I can do somethin’ for you? I’ll come look at your broke shower.”

Your face lit up. “You’re a plumber?”

He shrugged and grunted unconcernedly, fixing you with a calculating look. “Yeah, somethin’ like that. Used to help out my old man when he was around.”

Your expression changed, and you started picking at your fingers. “Oh. Sorry…”

Toji snorted. “Don’t be daft. Don’t mind helping out if y’need me to.”

You took a final glance over to the back of the shop before sighing defeatedly. “Alright, I’ll cover you.”

Easy win.

“Thanks kid.”

Toji watched thoughtfully as you dug around your purse for loose change, wondering if he could afford to be stupid here.

“Hey. D’ya mind throwing in a couple a’those scratch cards?”

After exchanging numbers with the man - Toji as he informed you, he let you know he’d come over later that evening. You watched his retreating form disappear into the morning fog, nervously chewing the inside of your cheek.

For a somewhat jarring start to the day you felt quite satisfied with yourself, hitting two birds with one stone. Most importantly, your water was getting fixed. You tried not to linger too much on the fact that this man, someone you barely knew and who you had no business getting involved with, was coming to your flat.

In fact, the longer you thought about it the more of a bad decision it became. And no, not because he was near old enough to be your father, not even because the stench of instability hung around him like those Marlboro Golds. It was you, you and your crippling insecurity that made you want to look the other way. For Christ’s sakes, he didn’t even recognise you and it had only been a day. As you rummaged around the till in hopes of looking busy, you couldn’t help asking yourself what you actually thought was going to happen.

You were young, a very average looking girl in a world full of people that he could do whatever with at a wave of his hand. Sure, maybe you had a nice pair of tits, but that didn’t solve the problem. Texting him to not bother would be a split second decision that you knew would ultimately be in your favour.

Later, you were closing up shop when you found your mind still on the matter. Conceivably, you were reading into it too much. It was clear that in his eyes he was just doing you a favour, all because he didn’t have enough money on him to pay for a few eggs apparently. Even as you walked home you fancied that the universe was swaying you. It was freezing outside, trees swaying in the chill breeze and ground crunching beneath your boots.

No one was around that night. The day had been endless, pulling a double shift after a groggy start had you retreating even further into yourself. The walk home reminded you of how lonely you were. Your whole life had been strings of disappointment, you seemed to move through people’s lives like a ghost, not leaving a significant mark despite how badly you wanted to. Maybe this was a chance, something you could turn into a memorable experience.

An hour or so later you were frantically cleaning your living room, cursing yourself for your lack of organisation. You weren’t messy per se, just neglectful. Your jacket was in a crumpled heap on the floor and the side table had an array of your papers, grinder and weed dustings from the night before. The shower you endured had been a quick ordeal in its current state, but you were very aware of the sate of your leg hair and gritted your teeth against the pain.

After the frenzied clean you settled on your sofa, twiddling your thumbs as you blinked down at your phone, your empty chat with Toji staring right back at you.

20:19, the time read.

You wondered if he was already on his way, and if texting him would just piss him off. He didn’t seem too eager at coming to help, but he was the one who offered anyway.

Five minutes later, you gave in to the anticipation.

────────────

New message recipient: toji

---

You: hey, you still coming?

────────────

Toji was mid-piss when his phone buzzed.

He scratched his back lazily while peering over to the bathroom counter, doing his best to ensure his stream remained on target. From the distance he couldn’t make out what the message said, but it was sent over from an unsaved number.

Maybe it’s that prick with my money, he wondered to himself.

A quick shake later, he tucked himself away and grabbed his phone to open the notification.

────────────

Conversation with: 123-456-789      

---

123-456-789: hey, you still coming?

────────────

The message was a bit ominous. He had no clue who was expecting him on a Friday, especially at this time of the night. Toji racked his brain, trying to remember if he saved that woman he fucked last week’s number, but no, he recalls he didn’t. She had a tinny voice that made him wince every time she spoke, never mind how she sounded in bed. Never wanted to see her again. He huffed, adjusting his shorts as he retreated into his kitchen.

Then who was it? He spent a couple more seconds deliberating before concluding that he didn’t care if he was being rude. Clearly this person wasn’t important if he hadn’t even bothered saving the number.

────────────

Conversation with: 123-456-789      

---

123-456-789: hey, you still coming?

You: whos this

────────────

A couple seconds later Toji’s phone pinged again. His thumb swiped against cracks on the screen as he pulled the chat open again.

────────────

Conversation with: 123-456-789      

---

123-456-789: hey, you still coming?

You: whos this

123-456-789: ouch lol

123-456-789: the girl whose shower you so generously offered to fix

────────────

Oh shit. He’d forgotten about that, assuming you’d think he was just trying to sweeten you up. Then again, maybe you asking to exchange phone numbers was a clear enough sign. Toji grumbled, lying back on his cracked leather two-seater and kicking his slides off. The TV blared in the background, a telecoms advert flickering across the screen as he waited for the race results. His attention was divided, intermittently wondering if he could ignore you and hope you just forgot about it. No, it technically wasn’t a favour because he had no business offering you one; he owed you after you covered the cost for his eggs.

“Fuckssake.”

If only he’d remembered the damn eggs the first time.

As immensely unappealing leaving his flat in this weather was, Toji knew he’d better go and follow through. He wasn’t sure if you’d grass him to your manager, and they were just eggs, but he’d had enough aggravating encounters with the man to know that showing his face after not paying would cause another problem he didn’t need. The store was close enough to not want to miss out on the convenience.

────────────

Conversation with: 123-456-789      

---

123-456-789: hey, you still coming?

You: whos this

123-456-789: ouch lol

123-456-789: the girl whose shower you so generously offered to fix

You: ah shit my fault kid

You: yeah course, got caught up in stuff but i’ll be there in 20

────────────

An hour later he rocked up to your address. He almost didn’t change his clothes, but one step out of his front door immediately changed his mind. Even now as he waited for you to let him in he debated turning around and leaving. Just his luck though, a couple seconds later the door swung open and your smaller form appeared in the entranceway.

“Hey,” you smiled breathlessly.

“Hey.” Toji began, half lidded eyes taking you in. Now, few things could catch Toji off guard, but your appearance struck him by surprise. You were clad in the tiniest tank top known to man, the shorts that hung low on your hips following suit. One of your straps was falling off your shoulder, the black bra you wore underneath peeking over the low neckline. It wasn’t doing a great job however, as one of your nipples was half exposed over the cup. “Uh…”

You had been ripped from an impromptu nap when the buzzer for your flat door went off, sucking in a sharp breath as you sat up. Apparently you’d fallen asleep while waiting for your faux plumber to arrive, the hours of standing catching up to you. You rushed to your feet, hurrying over to the intercom to let him in. Toji’s “twenty minutes” had turned into just over an hour; even the hair you so meticulously arranged was now tired. You haphazardly tamed it with your hands as you reached the door, internally praying that you hadn’t drooled all over your chin as you pulled it open.

“Hey.”

Toji greeted you back in a gruff baritone, deep green eyes looking almost black in the darkness. He was clad in the same worn jacket, one hand curled around his toolbox handle. “Uh…”

He almost hesitated for a moment before pointing to your chest. “Your…”

“What…?” You trailed off, looking down at yourself to see your entire left breast almost out on display. “Oh shit…”

The older man’s lip twitched at your mortification, eyes burning into the top of your head as you quickly tucked yourself back in. “I’m already here, missy. Didn’t need to do any more convincin’.”

You couldn’t find the confidence to respond, cheeks burning as you stepped aside to let him in. Your plans to appear casual had manifested a little too literally.

“Let’s see the damage, then.” He continued, brushing past you to enter your flat.

You tried to push your embarrassment to the side as you cleared your throat. “Sorry for the mess. I haven’t had time to clean recently.”

A lie.

“S’aright.”

“Um, the bathroom’s just at the end of the hallway.” You pointed to the ajar door.

“You not hot in here?” He grimaced, setting his tools down to unzip his jacket.

You’d also left the heating on, it seems. A mistake that you normally never made, or could afford at that point in time. “Fucks’ sake. Yeah, a little. Let me turn the heating off. I’ll take your jacket.”

Toji dipped his chin in thanks, passing it off to you and shuffling towards your broken shower. His broad shoulders and impressive height seemed to shrink your flat; lumbering form almost completely taking up the cramped walkway. You couldn’t help but stare as he disappeared into the bathroom, heart thumping at the sight of his briefs above his sweats’ waistband.

You swiftly followed after him after dumping his jacket on your sofa. “Thanks again for helping me out. I really appreciate it.”

“All good.” He responded, kicking his boots off as he squeezed himself into the tight space. With anyone else you’d have made them take their shoes off at the front door, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care that day.

Besides, in your well lit bathroom you finally had a chance to get a better look at him. His arms were truly huge, muscles rippling as he began screwing off the shower head. Even through his black t-shirt, your eyes latched onto the bulges and dips of his back, eyes growing dry from staring.

“Any chance I can swipe a beer off you, kid?” He asked suddenly, turning his head to peer at you over his shoulder.

“Oh, uh… yeah, no problem.” You jumped at the rumble of his voice, mind far too muddled to notice his eyes follow you leave the room.

In the kitchen, you pulled open the fridge to grab a bottle from the six-pack you picked up. Beer wasn’t something you’d ever consider drinking yourself, of course. Just a lingering idea that you’d had on your way home, hospitality for your guest. As you cracked it open you began wondering if Toji already had kids, a thought that arguably should’ve crossed your mind long before. He was a good-looking man, which in itself was an understatement. You’d already found yourself growing wet a few times, just imagining what he’d be like in bed. And not just that either. Even the unplanned nap you’d had was clouded with dreams of him fucking you on multiple surfaces in your apartment.

You pinched your thigh on the way back to the bathroom, trying not to let your mind wander back to that place. As desperate as you were, you didn’t want to fall into one of those fantasies while he was still close. “Here you g- uh…”

When you returned, he was shirtless. The black tee draped over his shoulder as he fiddled with more parts in the shower head. The back you’d been drooling over before was on full display, a tanned expanse of skin and littered with scars. Your gaze keenly followed a single bead of sweat on its journey down his spine, watching it accelerate as it followed the curve all the way down to his sweats. Said sweats he was sporting hung even lower on his hips than before, the slight curve of his butt now above the hem.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, trying to make your presence known. “Hm. Got you that beer.”

Toji turned from what he was doing to look at you, pupils a pinprick under the bathroom light. “Oh. Thanks.”

You held your breath as he approached you, eyes widening at the sight of his chest. His pectorals glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, muscles involuntary tensing as he stepped towards you. The overhead lighting flickered as it cast shadows on his stomach, highlighting the faint definition of his abs. He was so big, stopping only a few inches in front of you as he took the bottle from your grip. Time seemed to come to a halt as those green eyes of his stayed fixed on yours, unmoving and watching you intensely as he necked the damn thing. Stubble flecked his jaw and jugular, Adam’s apple jumping with every gulp he took.

It was all so comical, you thought. From some conscious part of your mind you felt your face burning up as he stared, unblinking.

“Sorry. I got hot.” Toji remarked, handing you the empty bottle.

“No worries!” You squeaked, snatching the bottle from him and hightailing it out of there. For your own sanity you decided to leave him to it. There was no point lingering if your own body was set on disobeying and making you appear a dunce.

You settled on the sofa with a bottle of wine and flicked on Rick and Morty, mentally agreeing with the man.

It really was too hot in there.

A couple hours later Toji emerged from your bathroom, still shirtless. “Your cartridge needed changing. Should be good for now.”

You hopped up from the couch, catching yourself with a little difficulty. Your head was spinning after a little too much alcohol. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

The man waved you off, crouching down to pull his boots back on.

“Let me get you a water? Before you go?” You quipped, tilting your head to the side slightly.

“Yeah, sure.” Toji followed you into the kitchen, leaning back on the counter as you hummed a tune, waiting for the tap to run cold.

“You said you used to help your dad out with this stuff,” you began slowly. “Is that what you do now?”

“Nah. I’m not a plumber,” Toji grunted, pulling out his phone after a vibration. “Just do it for the extra cash.”

“Ah.” Your mind had already gone blank as you tried to think of a way to continue the dry conversation. “I thought you hated me, you know.”

That got his attention, and he looked up with a confused expression. “Huh?”

Your cheeks warmed again. “Because of the shop? You thought I was ignoring you.”

He snorted. “You’re overthinking, kid. I was just in a hurry.”

Yes, you were overthinking. You were also a little drunk, and intended to make good use of your liquid courage. You filled up a glass with the running tap and handed it over to him. “My boss was just mad at me. I think he hates me, y’know.”

Toji was silent, watching you play with your shorts as he guzzled down the water.

“I don’t know why. I pull the most shifts at that shitty place, too,” you added. You couldn’t help but cringe, noticing how it sounded like you hoped to impress him with your apparent good nature. You shrugged. “He’s a dick anyway.”

“Why d’you stay there then?” He muttered.

You laughed lowly. “I have to. There’s not much else in this shithole that pays enough.”

“Well,” he said. “Can’t blame you for that. You’re still young though. You have time to leave.”

You giggled, leaning back against the fridge and crossing your ankles.

“What’s funny?” He asked, eyes narrowing at your coy expression.

“Nothing…” you grinned. “Are you calling yourself old?”

He ignored your question. There was a heavy beat of silence as Toji analysed you, steely eyes judging your composure. “Y’been drinking.”

“Just a little.”

“How old are you anyway? Nineteen?”

“Close. M’twenty.” You paused for a second. “And I’m not drunk either. Just tipsy,”

Toji snorted. “Not even legal yet.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. “Why d’you care? I’m old enough.”

The double entendre of your words hung in the air, and you felt your core start fluttering against your shorts. The way Toji stared at you made you shiver, his dark lashes casting a shadow on his cheekbones. In all honesty, you had no idea what you were doing. You were drunk and horny, barely able to contain yourself in the close company of your kitchen. You felt your nipples stiffen, so much so that they poked through your tank top after you discarded your bra a while ago. It was almost a given that he’d noticed, too. He could probably see your rapidly rising chest, puffed out a little as your arms pressed behind you into the fridge. You rocked on your feet a little, breath quickening.

“Mm.” he hummed, eyes flicking up and down your figure. “Mind if I smoke?”

“No.”

Yes.

Another issue that you discarded in the moment. Even when you smoked, you would retreat to the balcony outside your front door.

However you shook your head this time, bottom lip catching beneath your teeth as you watched him reach for a cigarette from his pocket. The lighter cast a golden hue across his face as he cupped the end of the stick and you watched with dilated pupils as he inhaled the nicotine.

It was silent for a few moments, the ambient humming of your fridge behind you melting in with the hammering of your chest. You waited patiently, the wine giving you courage to keep the eye contact with the older man as long as he did. In that moment, you both know you’d do anything for his approval. You were certain that’s why he kept you waiting, unspoken words carried away with the smoke of his Marboloro Golds. He finally spoke.

“C’mere.”

You obeyed, hands still clasped behind your back as you stepped towards him. Feet silent as they padded across the cold kitchen floor, eyes saying all the words that needed to be said.

“Closer.”

Again, you obeyed. Close enough for his heady scent to add to the wine dizzying you. A deep, masculine scent, accompanied by the fading fragrance of his cologne. From this distance you could see the mole under his eye and the faint crow’s feet he developed over time.

Toji exhaled a puff of grey air above your head, tapping away the ash from his cigarette on the kitchen counter. “You’re a stupid girl, y’know.”

Your heavy lids fluttered at his words and you shrugged. “Shoot me.”

He huffed and extended one hand, resting it on your shoulder and pushing you down with a slight force.

You silently complied, lowering yourself to your knees and opening your mouth slightly. Releasing your hands from behind you, you reached up to rest them on his v-line, gently rubbing his skin as you pressed your mouth against the print in his sweats. He was already half-hard, cock growing in those briefs you’d been eyeing earlier. Your clit brushed against your panties; you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol in your substance or just your neediness, but you felt like your skin was on fire. The few encounters you’d had with other men had never felt as heavy as this.

You dragged your tongue along his clothed length, holding a breath at how big he was. He wasn’t even all the way there yet. With unbreaking eye contact you sucked on his tip through the fabric, thighs pressing at the small sound that rumbled in his throat. You didn’t want to tease him any longer, feeling his patience wearing thin at your ministrations. Gently, you curled your fingers under his waistband, pulling them down just far enough for his dick to spring up. At the sight of it you couldn’t hold back the sound that bubbled from your lips. He was long and thick, slightly darker than the further expanses of his skin. His tip was a dark pink colour, a bead of pre oozing from his slit. His balls hung low, cropped dark hair tickling your knuckles.

You curled one trembling hand around him, giving him a languid stroke as you directed his tip to your tongue. Toji was warm, considerably so in the lingering heat of your flat, and you relished in the salty, musky taste he left behind on your taste buds.

He grunted as you sucked him further into your mouth, increasing pressure for him as you formed a vacuum with your mouth. Drool began slipping from the corners of your mouth as you desperately tried to fit more of him in. One of his hands reached from the counter to wrap around the back of your head, his palm almost covering the entirety of your scalp. It shouldn’t have shocked you when he began pushing, forcing his cock deeper into your throat. He ignored your small gags as he began fucking your throat, and you hope he didn’t notice you throw up a little in your mouth. Thankfully, you managed to swallow it like a champ before making a mess.

It was a little disgusting in all honesty, but you squeezed your eyes shut against the pain and discomfort, desperate to please him. Despite the discomfort, your pussy was leaking in almost a steady stream, creating a little puddle in your panties. You were desperate for friction and shamefully used a free hand to try and discreetly rub your clit.

“Mphf─!” You keened, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes as you caught sight of Toji again. His lower lip was caught between his teeth, slightly pale from how hard he chewed it. A vein thrummed on the side of his neck in pleasure, and his gaze was fixed on the joining of your mouth and his cock. The wet noises with each push of your head filled the air, even louder than his heavy breathing and your shuffles.

You didn’t know how long it went on for, growing wetter with every schlick, schlick, schlick that reached your ears. “Fuck,” he grunted, finally pulling you off so you could catch a breath. You sucked air in, gasping as you watched him through damp lashes. You knew you looked a mess; mascara running, lips swollen from the constant rubbing and drool decorating your chin. You hurriedly pulled your hand from your panties, ashamed of how impatient you were. Not that it had done much either, with the pain of his ministrations and lack of air you could barely focus.

“Take off your top.” He instructed, one hand stroking his reddening cock. You staggered to your feet, face wincing from the pain in your knees, but obliged.

You peeled your tank top off, throwing it off to the side as he pulled you back in. Toji cupped your breast in one hand, tweaking your nipple as he lowered his mouth to the side of your neck. You squeaked in pleasure, the pressure from his lips cutting off some of your circulation and making you light-headed. His leaking tip trailed pre all over your stomach, fist brushing your stomach with every stroke of his cock. It was driving you insane. “Fuck, Toji…”

He grunted in response, pinching your nipple hard.

“Need you t─! F’me.” You panted, reaching around and dragging your nails down his back.

You didn’t need to say it again. He released your neck and pulled away, breathing deeply as his eyes darted up and down your face.

This time, he didn’t bother giving you any instructions. He slunk his arm around your waist and pushed you behind him, slotting himself behind you. You felt one of his hot palms grip the back on your neck, pushing you down onto the counter until your breasts were squashed against your chest. “Just like that, good girl.”

His other hand grabbed your shorts, using a little too much force to rip your shorts and panties down. Your face burned as he sneered at you, “There’s a fucking puddle here, kid. Didn’t know you were this desperate.”

“Sh-shut up,” you half mumbled, half whispered as he chuckled at your embarrassment. “You─ ah!”

He cut you off with his fingers, using two of them to smear your arousal over your pussy lips. Not that he needed to, anyway. It was already spreading all over your ass with his proximity. “Uh huh.”

You couldn’t even find it within yourself to argue, breath snatched away from the feeling of his fingers filling you up. With each stroke of his fingers you considered telling him it had been a while since you’d last been with anyone. Only two of them were already snatching your breath away, pleasure fading in and out between each gasp of air you made. The thought of taking his dick had you admittedly foaming at the mouth, but also left a deposit of fear in your barely present mind.

Toji’s cock pressed against your ass, and you could feel it throbbing with arousal with every thrust of his fingers. He hissed at the feeling of it stroking your ass, momentarily abandoning your core to grab a handful of your behind. “Should boycott that shop f’hiding you under that uniform.”

Your pussy twitched at his words and you loosed a breathy moan.

His touch abandoned you, until you felt the pressure of his tip swiping against your entrance. Shit, he felt bigger than you remembered. “Please…” you garbled, fingers clinging onto the worktop in desperation.

The hand on your neck squeezed a little harder, cutting off some of your oxygen and creating a delicious rush to your head. A beat, and he suddenly pushed himself all the way in. Your eyes widened from the shock, a silent yelp ripping from your throat. The pain was so intense you couldn’t help holding back tears, feeling every twitch as your walls stretched to accommodate him.

Toji gave you all of three seconds to adjust to him before he started slowly thrusting. With each rut of his hips the pain slowly ebbed, making way for raw pleasure. You mewled against the counter, lids cracked open a fraction as you relished in the feeling. “F-fuck…”

The tingling in your clit spread to your belly, and you gnawed your lip. He started moving faster, hips slapping your ass with increasing force until he was fucking into you so hard. The veins decorating his cock stroked your walls and added to the overwhelming pleasure you felt. At his deepest, his tip massaged some far part of your walls that had never been touched before, and you whined helplessly into the table. The scent of sex mixed in with the lingering stench of his cigarette, burying itself so deep in your mind in such a way that you could never forget. Toji’s bear hands both moved to your hips, digging into them with such fervour that you know would leave bruises behind.

“Pussy’s so fucking tight,” he hissed, leaning further over you until you felt his abs press against your back. “Fuck.”

Plap! Plap! Plap! Reverberated around the walls of your kitchen, driving you closer and closer to a point of minimal consciousness. It was almost a mantra in your mind as your voice pitched higher. “Daddy, shit…” You didn’t quite realise what you said until you felt him slow down to a halt. Your position felt too vulnerable. Prickles of embarrassed heat washed over you, pushing you to gather yourself and glance up at him.

Toji looked surprised for a moment; you saw it flash across his face as he observed you. Apologising profusely seemed the worst possible decision but you didn’t know what else to do to fix the situation. It was probably best you didn’t even get a chance to speak. He cupped his hands under your thighs, lifting you up to set you on the counter with such little effort. The myriad of thoughts in your head were cut short by the feeling of him fucking into you harder than before, turning your lapse in security into a rush of pleasure. “Ohhhh…”

“Should’ve known,” he grunted in between thrusts. “Desperate, filthy fuckin’ girl.”

He was being mean, so mean, and the conscious part of you curled in on itself at his words. You felt like you’d messed up, ruined the moment even, but he showed no significant change in his demeanour. It took little effort to choke that small part of you, and you reached up to dig your nails into his back as his skin slapped against yours. The stickiness of your arousal and his pre smeared a nasty mess around where you joined.

Your peak inched closer and closer, and you whimpered at the feeling of your nipples brushing against his chest.

“Breathe, damnnit.”

Embarrassingly enough those words sent you over the edge, and your nails dragged across his shoulders as you squealed. Toji followed not too long after, pulling out and stroking himself to completion with a groan, all over your pussy. Your chest heaved as your orgasm faded and sanity slowly trickled back, a few beads of sweat running down your back. The sight of Toji turning away to grab some kitchen towel for you made you blush, and you mumbled a thank you as you wiped away the mess he left on your skin.

Before you could offer him a bed for the night you spotted him pulling his clothes back on, back turned to you in a way that felt like ice dropping in your stomach. He didn’t even hesitate. Didn’t ask if you wanted anything, showed no intention to have even a curt conversation after essentially fucking your brains out. The idea of still being naked when he turned was nauseating, so you quickly followed suit and dressed yourself. You couldn’t help yourself, croaky voice making you cringe. “You’re not gonna… stay?”

“Sorry kid, I can’t. Got something I need to be up for tomorrow,” he answered soullessly. “I’ll text you though, yeah?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure.” You swallowed in an attempt to fix your dry throat, shooting him a small smile as he nodded your way.

Without another word, he grabbed his jacket from your sofa, picked up his toolbox and walked through the front door, taking all your warmth and essence right with him. The words stupid girl made a reappearance, echoing through your mind like a chant.

The door slamming shut hit you with such a force, almost akin to a slap. The air that rushed in for the brief moment the door was open brought in such a coldness, that lingering darkness that normally hung around you accompanying it. You were alone again. Remnants of cum still dripped from your skin, and a brief glance to the side told you there was a significant puddle of it left on the counter. The silence was so severe it made you tremble. If it wasn’t for the empty glass, beer bottle and cigarette ash scattered across the counter, it was as if no one else had ever been there.

It was no mystery to you that the melancholy you had grown accustomed to was a persistent depression that had hung around for a while. You’d had enough encounters with shitty people for it to feel familiar to you, but this, this was something harsher. Life continued as usual. Brushing teeth, fixing your hair, swiping on some patchy drug store makeup and commuting to work. A different kind of hollowness followed you, though. Everything felt empty, even your very own kitchen felt off. So much so that you avoided going in there as much as possible. You weren’t sure why you felt the way you did, but a few days deliberating over it brought clarity.

For some reason, you’d had hope with Toji. There was no reason to, you knew that much. But still, it was there. In your anticipation for his visit, you’d fancied there were several signs from the universe telling you here, it’s him. This is the one. You’d been stupid. Stupid girl. He didn’t even have a clue how right he was.

It was a joke that you still hadn’t learned your lesson, though.

The first week, you stared at your phone day in and day out, waiting for a call, a text, even the infuriating sign of a typing… bubble that never came.

The second week you grew restless, spiralling into a jumble of new insecurities and lamentations.

The third week had you giving up hope, trying your best to forget it ever happened but failing miserably with each passing day.

By the time a month had come around, you’d texted him again, some feeble joke about how your sink looked like it was on the way out. You half expected him to leave you on delivered, picturing him fucking some other woman that he managed to pull with minimal effort. But he replied, and quite quickly at that. He’d raised your hopes again, only for the second encounter to be a complete imitation of the first. At least you knew the sex was good. You knew close to nothing about him, but each time he came over or you visited you opened up a little more. Weeks and countless escapades later, a strange relationship between you had formed, and he knew more about you than anyone else. Not that he showed much concern. You knew it was only a matter of time before even this “partnership” fizzled out.

Your encounters with Toji had given you something to look forward to and get up for, with each of his absences you were desperate to get the feeling back again. No amount of smoking could numb you enough to bring you down to earth; even self-medicating before work left you with that emptiness. Your dealer showed a little concern, although it was laughably fleeting. You’d mentioned you were having a rough time and he’d tried to pass you a small pouch with white powder, giving you some spiel about how he was growing his market. Apparently, you were lucky to be the first customer he reached out to, but you had no interest in his horse meds and had walked away.

Maybe you were being dramatic about the situation. You’d seen enough signs, and each time you chose to ignore them.

A few months later you were just finishing handover with your colleague, the same one that had lumped you with a double shift all that time ago. You were halfway out the door when you remembered you’d run out of bread, and turned on your heel with a grumble to go and pick some up. The door beeped as you were busy scanning the shelves, and you didn’t think much of it until you heard an agonisingly familiar baritone.

“Just a pack of Marlboro Golds.”

With the way that your heart jumped, someone could assume your interactions were pleasant. A quick peek around the corner had your stomach drop, your nails digging into your palms at the sight of your coworker fluttering her lashes at him. You held no malice in your heart for her; even if she had known what you had going on, you weren’t close enough for her to owe you any loyalty. What did irk you, however, was the sound of a low chuckle from Toji, ever the charmer apparently, and his shameless flirting with her. She wasn’t much older than you and a gorgeous woman at that, but you couldn’t help the feeling of envy that washed over you. All this time had passed and you were still fawning over him like a child experiencing their first crush.

“Have a nice day!”

“I will, kid. Take care of yourself.”

You wanted to throw up. It took him a disgustingly long amount of time to show even a sliver of warmth that he’d just shown her. On one too many occasions he’d made some obnoxious joke about how you’d practically thrown yourself at him. Watching that interaction made you wonder what was so different between you and your coworker. She was always telling you about her escapades with men, how they seemed to fall at her feet with a simple smile. You giggled along with her when she told those stories but now? It wasn’t so funny anymore. Suddenly the idea of going up to that counter made you feel sick, so you rushed out of the store before either of them could notice you were there.

You didn’t even eat bread that much anyway.

Later that evening, you’d almost finished another whole bottle of wine. Whatever rubbish you’d been previously watching had ended, and Netflix had flipped over to some show you had no interest in. More importantly, your phone was blinking at you very enticingly from the armrest of the couch. A very poor decision dangling right in front of you, accelerated by what, a need to prove yourself? Show him you’re better? You swallowed nervously. It didn’t feel as if it get any worse. What harm was one more time?

────────────

Conversation with: toji   

---

toji: come let me in

────────────

The last message mocked you from the chat, gathering dust beneath relentless promotional offers from Domino’s and the like. You twiddled your thumbs, giving it one last thought before deciding you hated yourself apparently.

────────────

Conversation with: toji   

---

toji: come let me in

You: you up?

────────────

There.

You tossed your phone to the side, dragging restless fingers through your hair as you tried to forget about it. Making up countless reasons as to why he wouldn’t even bother responding passed the time until your phone buzzed. With the eagerness of a child at Christmas you grabbed the discarded phone and swiped open the conversation.

────────────

Conversation with: toji   

---

toji: come let me in

You: you up?

toji: need company?

────────────

Your heart skipped a beat.

Toji was surprised to still be hearing from you in all honesty. In fact, after he forgot to message you that first time, he was sure he’d never speak to you again. He’d initially thought your head was screwed on properly, but after you’d slept together several times he came to realise a few of those screws were loose. That daddy kink you had was something mean. You were a nice girl, meant well but had a few chips on your shoulder like so many other women he knew did. At first he almost didn’t respond. Girls like you tended to get attached, and you had, ultimately. It was a crude choice of words but who was he to not make use of that connection? The sex was good. Probably some of the best that he had. Besides, that small kernel in him that entertained your first conversation pitied you a little, maybe even felt some warped kind of affection. He was no saint, he knew you were too fragile, but he paid it no mind. For the time being, he’d still text you back.

────────────

Conversation with: 123-456-789      

---

123-456-789: you up?

You: need company?

────────────

He really should save your number, he thought to himself with a bored scratch to his abdomen, riding his shirt up and sneezing. Fuck, it was dusty in his flat. Toji sniffed. If you still wanted to meet up though, who was he to say no?

The thick summer air was like a furnace, almost suffocating Toji as he waited for you to open the door. He leaned against the adjacent wall lazily, arms crossed in impatience. It was if you liked to make him wait longer each time he visited; if he did the same you’d insist on giving him an earful before mellowing out again. As he waited he scratched his neck, mind wandering as he recalled a time you stayed over. You got off on making him seem a piece of shit with your words, honestly. You’d insisted on him giving you breakfast before he thought of doing anything to you, whatever the fuck that meant. Whenever he was buried inside your cunt you didn’t have anything nearly as smart to say. In fact, that same day you’d argued for about a half hour before he had you bent over his couch and mindlessly babbling his name.  

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

You stepped to the side, finally letting him in and closing the door gently behind you. Normally at this point you'd start rambling about an aggravating customer at work, or start questioning him about his day. This time however, you gave him a once over and sniffed. There was an apparent disdain on your face.

Toji observed you for a moment, squinting as he noticed that you seemed, off. “What’s wrong with you?”

You rolled your eyes, turning on a heel and flouncing into the kitchen.

He followed after you. “You ignoring me now?”

Still, you didn’t respond, grabbing yourself from water from the tap and gulping it down in front of him. You didn’t even offer him some, knowing you had him out there for five minutes, the cheek. Toji felt his eye twitch and you stared him down, slamming your glass down on the counter and continuing your petty silence strike. Getting mad was the reaction you wanted to get out of him however, so he bit his tongue and bristled as he waited.

Eventually, you spoke. “Saw you talking to my coworker today.”

He groaned, speaking through a clenched jaw. “Yes. I went to get my cigs. Sorry I didn’t run that by you first, missy.”

You frowned, crossing your arms over your chest in indignation. “Don’t be a dick, Toji,” you hissed. “Why do you have to flirt with her? When I work there too?”

He sighed. “I wasn’t flirting with her. God forbid a man shows a little friendliness.” He straightened up from your counter, deciding to grab himself a glass of water since you decided to be a shitty host.

“Friendly?” You scoffed. “You wouldn’t know friendly if it slapped you across the fucking face, you prick. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

Apparently today you were set on driving him up the wall, as you snapped, “Hello? I didn’t say you could drink my water.”

He ignored you, giving you the same flat stare you’d released him from only moments ago as he filled a cup. “I can’t be fucked for this right now, princess.”

Maybe he asked for it then. He knew you hated it when he called you that. He only did it when he was pissed, mocking you instead of using it as a term of endearment. Still, it caught him off guard when you stomped over to him, snatching the full glass away from his hand and throwing it in his face.

Toji closed his eyes momentarily, using a free hand to flick the sodden strands of hair out of his face. The feeling of his soaked tank top sticking to his chest cranked his irritation up to the max, and he peeled the shirt away from him as slowly as he could manage. When he opened his eyes again, you'd frozen, trembling in fury. The anger that flashed in your glare was palpable, but within that was a short-lived glint of regret.

Oh, you were pissed.

But now so was he.

Twenty minutes later you hovered above him on your bed, naked form enveloped by a thin sheen of sweat. Your tits glistened in the moonlight that shone through the window, littered with bruises that he left earlier. For a brief moment, a thought fleeted through his head. Something about you looking smaller than you did before. But it passed, swept away as you whimpered softly, writhing as he lowered you onto his cock and mouth slightly open as you sucked in a breath. It was at times like this, when all his sense disappeared that you seemed the most enticing.

“Please,” you begged, nails digging into his chest just the way he liked. “M’sorry for being mean. I need it.”

“Every time,” he growled, revelling in your frustration as he stopped you from moving. “The same shit every time with you. How many times do I have to tell you to quit acting like a brat?”

“M’sorry, m’sorry!” You whined, desperately grinding your hips. “I won’t do it again.”

Toji snorted. “Now you’re just fuckin’ lying.”

He relented anyway, pulling you down at long last and fucking up into you with increased fervour. Your hips slapped into his with each thrust, the wetness that gathered there amplifying the sound. You whimpered softly, mind going into whatever place it did every time he had you like this. Submissive, eager to please and wet.

He flipped you over not long after, gripping your headboard and digging his fingers into your hips. He knew you hated this position, not because it didn’t feel good but because your neighbours always gave you shit for it. Right now, he didn’t care though. You’d pissed him off again and he couldn’t give less of a shit if you wanted to be mad. It’s what got you in this position in the first place.

“No…! Ohhhh─” your words were cut off by a whiny moan, hands clasping his shoulders for any stability as he fucked into you, headboard slamming against the wall. “Daddy wait─”

He grunted, that part of him that loved it withering in pleasure. “You’re a piece of fucking work, y’know that?”

You didn’t even hear him, too busy watching the way he fucked you to respond. “Close, close…”

His breath quickened as he teetered towards his peak, pulling your legs up over his shoulder for a deeper angle. “Does that feel good? D’you even deserve this after all that shit?”

You shook your head no, tears building up in your eyes as the pleasure licked at your spine. You arched up into him with a gasp, eyes clouded as you squealed. “Cummingcummingcumming…!”

He released a small groan as he finished alongside you, burying his cock deep inside your pussy as he spilled into you. “Fuck…”

Something had changed the past few times you’d met up, and the idea of sleeping in your bed wasn’t so aversive to Toji anymore. He lay to the left of you, arm hanging off the side as he snored gently. The digital clock to the side of you read 05:14, hours after the both of you had finished but you still couldn’t sleep. His presence was supposed to being you comfort, and it did, but it would never stop feeling wrong. You couldn’t shake how he’d made you feel, an intense belonging that always seemed overshadowed by dread. You kept wondering when he’d leave you. Admittedly, it was your fault entirely that you were in this predicament in the first place. First time aside, you’d kickstarted this mess of a “relationship” yourself. Toji never promised you anything, and though he denied it you knew he was seeing other women, doing fuck knows what with them. The conversation you overheard today was just the tip of the iceberg. The only thing you could even hold over him was lack of honesty. With everything else, you knew what you were getting into. You were already miserable from the start, the smart decision would’ve been to forget his entire existence, but you willingly latched onto your fleeting encounters.

A sigh passed your lips, and you closed your eyes to finally try and get some rest before a buzz sounded. You checked your phone but the screen remained asleep. Oh.

Did you dare? What good would checking his phone do, considering what you already knew and had seen with your own eyes, multiple times. Alas, that niggling feeling in your mind got the better of you and you slipped from under the covers, tiptoeing around that carpeted spot in the middle of your floor that creaked with pressure. Upon reaching his side of the bed you gently lifted his phone to your face, tapping the screen to bring it to life.

────────────

Notification from: 987-654-321

Got back from the clinic this morning, it’s gone. Fuck you.

────────────

Your heart stopped. You knew, you knew, but still, here you were. You couldn’t help but drop the phone in shock, tears burning your eyes for the nth time as you cupped your mouth helplessly.

Unfortunately, your lack of care had consequences; Toji turned over groggily, scratching his eyes and peering up you with an incredulous expression. “Why are you up…?”

He spotted the phone on the floor, pausing for a second. “Y’checking my phone now?” He didn’t even sound like he cared.

“Whoever you knocked up has got rid of it, by the way.” You choked, sniffing back tears. “In case you even gave a shit.” Being in the same room as him felt suffocating, so you fled to the living room, throwing on a rogue t-shirt on the way.

“Oh, shit. Kid, wait─”

You didn’t wait, ignoring his demands as you made your way to the front door. On your way out you grabbed a loose cigarette and lighter from the side table, throat wobbling as you slammed the door behind you. Tears clouded your vision, catching in your chest you until you couldn’t breathe.

It was still warm outside, considerably so. The sun had begun peeking over the horizon and you weren’t even wearing any panties. The dried remains of your earlier activities flaked away from your thighs but you couldn’t even find it within you to care. A gentle breeze blew across your face, carrying hopeless tears as you inhaled the thick air from your cigarette. And not because you knew it was over, either. Your previous actions had shown you that weren’t capable of completely cutting him out of your life; you needed him. He provided you no comfort, no affection other than handing you a towel or discarded t-shirt after a quick fuck. But without him, you withered away into nothing, weak and aimlessly living your life until it became unbearable. The stench of the rapidly diminishing Marlboro Gold filled the air, worsening your sobs until they were being torn from your belly.

No, you couldn’t get rid of him. From the hollow, miserable life that you’d built yourself, he was the only escape.

tags: @heeknow @athalia-amor @r0es @1sabxl @weremoreghoststhanpeople85

Satoru Gojo, one of your beloved superiors, normally sat directly opposite you. For now, his seat was empty; he was most likely bothering one of his friends in data analytics. Thankfully your real-life interactions with him during the day were fairly limited, largely due to your own diligence but also unspoken workplace etiquette; it seemed to demand the pinging over of emails rather than face-to-face contact. In fact, Satoru was one of the worst out of the lot. You learned very quickly that attempting face-to-face communication with him likely earned you a shrug, accompanied by some unintelligible words about how he couldn’t remember and to just email him. It baffled you initially, but you soon grew unbothered when you realised how much of a stuck up piece of shit he was anyway.

────────────────────

Y/N Y/L/N <[email protected]>

To: Satoru Gojo <[email protected]>

Subject: Returns Column

---------

Morning Satoru,

Apologies, I’ll have them fixed within the hour.

Thanks,

Y/N Y/L/N

────────────────────

A couple of minutes into your work, your laptop pinged again.

────────────────────

Satoru Gojo <[email protected]>

To: <[email protected]>

Subject: Returns Column

---------

pls finish quickly, need 2 send it off to review by 9

ideally shouldve been sent before 5 prev. working day.

Sent from my iPhone.

────────────────────

For someone that appeared so concerned about meeting a deadline, he was very absent from his desk. You gritted your teeth in annoyance. He also seemed to think you slow, of course it was ideal that it should’ve been sent earlier. Despite your melancholy concerning life in general, you always did your best to ensure you didn’t slack in your job. There were some things out of your control however, such as the fact that you received the initial document hours later than the deadline, and it was already riddled with mistakes from the previous department. Said mistakes were probably the cause of current issues.

“Right,” you sighed, tucking your chair in and getting straight to ironing out bugs.

Your eyes darted down, finally noticing the myriad of items he was sporting. “Um, yeah, yeah. Of course. Sorry, I was just preoccupied with…”

You wavered off at the end of your sentence, noticing that he hadn’t even registered your words and was already lumbering over to the counter. With a swallow to help alleviate your dry throat, you scurried after him.

The adverts for the radio finally ended, and a fuzzy recreation of Escapism by Raye filled the low ambience of the store. The beeps from the register were uncharacteristically louder than usual as you scanned his items, accompanying the mortified thumping of your heart from your encounter. Occasionally, you would push something across the scanner and his long, impatient fingers brushed against yours. Very unintentionally too you would add. While each touch had you frantically glancing up at him to share in some meaningless exchange of words, he seemed otherwise unaffected or completely oblivious.

“Some Marlboro Golds too.” He grunted, unceremoniously dumping the last pack of minced meat in the bag.

You nodded, turning away to grab a pack off the shelf. “Anything else?”

“Nah.”

“Thirty-two ninety then, please.” You shifted your weight between feet, holding back winces at the pain from being stood for hours. An attempt was certainly made in being discrete while observing the man digging around in his back pocket for a wallet. He had a mop of black hair, crudely cut in a way to clearly just keep it out of his face. It seemed to work for him though, adding to his overall scruffy, rugged appearance. Ogling his figure was a bit more of a challenge with the tattered brown-green jacket he wore, but your eyes narrowed in on the skin that exposed itself while he reached for his money. Tanned, with the hint of a v-line poking out from his stained jeans. Even when he pulled out a few notes, the money looked like the Monopoly equivalent in his grip, dwarfed by long fingers that could singlehandedly wrap around your arm.

You hurriedly averted your gaze as you noticed him fixing you with deadpan eyes, the ghost of a smirk on his lips as he caught you staring him down.

Rummaging around in the cash drawer for his change relieved some of the stuffy air around your face, and you quickly sent him off with a general thank you and please come again before he sauntered out of the door.

You grimaced, feeling a pathetic wave of embarrassment and self-pity at the god-awful interaction. Looking at the time provided no reprieve either; your eye twitched at the mocking blink of the clock on your screen ─ four hours left till the end of your shift.