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"Second-Hand Smoke" Hitman! Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader PART 4
Summary: In this new installment of Second-Hand Smoke, our beloved reader and Toji have been in their situationship for a few months, but things are getting a little bit too comfortable. What happens when their feelings start to turn real? When they have to confront themselves.
Notes: THIS IS THE SPICY ONE!!! Please let me know if you like it :)
Warnings: Sex, Oral sex, fingering, swearing, fist fighting, drinking, smoking, swearing.
“You ready to get out of here, doll?” Toji asked you, his elbows rested against Suguru’s bar just a few inches from yours as he leaned in closely to be heard over the lively atmosphere of the room.
“I think I’m going to do a little bit of dancing, if that’s okay with you?” You didn’t need to ask permission, but you didn’t want him to feel like he was obligated to wait on you if he was ready to leave.
“Go for it, I’ll watch you from here,” he smiled, taking a swig of his beer; how many he’d had so far, you’d lost count, but Mai was staying at Toji’s tonight and it was your turn to drive, so you were glad he was letting loose a little.
It was a Saturday night, the bar was busy, the music turned up and the dance floor was bustling with people. You’d been unable to convince Toji to two-step with you since your first date, but this was the first time you’d been out since then that you hadn’t had Satoru or another of your friends to dance with, so you waited on the edge of the dance floor for someone to come up and ask you, or for a line dance to come on that you knew the steps to.
It was generally accepted and, in your experience, the expectation that complete strangers could dance together and then break off to their separate friend groups afterwards without incident, but there was an unspoken rule that a guy didn’t ask a girl to dance if she was clearly with someone else (in your case, Toji) so you tried to make yourself look as available as possible in terms of dancing, but no one else seemed to be without a partner at the moment.
It had been just over two months since you’d learned the truth about Toji, and the pair of you seemed to be getting along great, not including his disinterest in being your two-step partner. You were spending a lot of time together when you were able, between your work schedule and Toji’s it could be hard, but you made it work, often meeting for lunch while Megumi was at school, or having late night cigarettes and beers outside Toji’s apartment.
On nights like these, a rare weekend that both of you weren’t working, you would hire one of the twins to stay over with Megumi so that you and Toji could go out to eat, then gamble or drink, usually ending the night tangled up together at your place.
According to Toji, this situationship could definitely not be called dating, though. Sometimes you wondered if he only kept you around as something to entertain him, but those thoughts were fleeting and undeserved; as much as he tried to act like he didn’t enjoy your presence, you could tell that it was a front. He, unprompted, had taken to calling you “babe,” in addition to all the other nicknames he used, and he had told you, without provocation, that he wasn’t sleeping with anyone besides you, which was a sentiment you shared.
Sex with Toji was unreal, without a doubt in a completely new tier than you’d had before. He summed it up to practice, admitting openly that he had always been a little bit of a whore, both before he met his wife, and after she’d died, but you had learned during your time together that he would do just about anything for money if he deemed the action worthy of the price, so, despite his denial, you weren’t 100 percent convinced he hadn’t sold his body before. Not that it mattered to you, it was just an inside joke the pair of you bantered about, and even he couldn’t deny that he was skilled enough in bed for it to be a genuine question.
Thinking about it was making your mouth water, but a familiar tune over the speakers broke your concentration, and you rushed onto the dance floor for Boot Scootin’ Boogie, a line dance that was a little fast and sometimes complicated for beginners but one of your favorites to do, the steps involving turns, kicks, and stomps that were a lot of fun when you could get them right.
You danced through the song, catching a glimpse of Toji standing at the bar, watching you, as promised, with a grin.
As the line dance ended, another song began, a high energy one that had everyone scrambling to find their dance parter. You were starting to make your way back to the bar, dodging quick moving two-steppers and drunk people when you felt a tap on your shoulder.
“Hey! You want to dance with me?” A tall, skinny guy, maybe a few years younger than you, with a pearl snap shirt and a black cowboy hat on, asked.
You grinned and took his hand. He pulled you onto the dance floor with a force, your right hands clasped together and his left, rather than resting politely on your back, snaked across your body to hold you firmly in place as he danced around emphatically, though without much skill. It wasn’t uncommon to get stuck with a dance partner like this one, where they took their role as the lead too seriously and ended up nearly dragging you around the floor, but it wasn’t the end of the world, because at the end of the song you could always leave or change partners.
Except, when this song ended, you tried to step away, breathless from the speed of the dancing, but this guy didn’t seem to notice, and when the next song started up you were getting rag-dolled around the room again.
“Hey, bud, after this song I’m leaving, okay?” You nearly yelled, the music was so loud you could barely hear yourself and the guy seemed tipsy enough that you weren’t sure if he’d heard and was ignoring you, or if he just hadn’t noticed.
You wanted to kick this guy, but it wasn’t that big of a deal, so you decided that you’d try to wait him out, rather than risk getting banned for being a disturbance. He wasn’t hurting you, and he wasn’t feeling up on you or anything, it was just annoying that he danced so roughly, and that you couldn't leave.
You glanced back over at Toji, who seemed to have picked up on your discomfort and was trying to decide what to do about it. You flashed him a pleading look before your partner spun you around dizzyingly again.
Toji was big and scary, so he tended to be cautious when intervening for you, not wanting to completely ruin your chances at finding someone to dance with when Satoru was otherwise occupied, but he did make it known when you were uncomfortable that anyone who looked at you wrong would have him to answer to, which usually squashed any overzealous advances from guys who had pushed your buttons.
The song was nearing its end. You glanced over at the bar where Toji had been standing, and you spotted him heading towards you with an intensity that made you worry for the safety of this man.
“Hey! I’ve gotta go!” You did shout this time, the last verse of the song coming to an end as you attempted to push yourself out of his grip, if only to keep things from escalating.
“Why-y, yuze got s-somewhere to be?” He slurred, stumbling slightly with the force of your push, his grip loosening barely enough for you to step backwards,
Your back hit something hard and you jumped, spinning around to see Toji, his jaw set in a way you recognized meant he was mad.
“Hey, punk, you think you can just put your hands on my girl?”
Oh shit, he’s pissed.
“Woah! Back up, muscles, he’s drunk,” You threw a hand up to Toji’s chest, you had no chance at actually keeping him back, but you hoped that it would make him realize he was overreacting; he wasn’t drunk, but he was buzzed enough to be easily agitated and you weren’t about to let him break this idiot’s jaw.
His eyes cut to yours, and you had almost convinced him to turn around and leave it alone when a drunken voice broke through the music.
“Your ‘girl’ was real-ly quick to put her hands on me,” Your bad dance partner called, “Maybe she needs a leash on her.”
You scowled, opening your mouth to deny it but you were interrupted.
“What, you wanna fight? I’ll step outside right now,” Toji was already pushing you out of the way and walking towards the pipsqueak.
“Toji, he’s like half your size, come on!” You hissed, trying to snag his arm as he passed, but he waved you off.
“Yeah, let’s go. Outside,” apparently this guy had a death wish.
“Oh my god,” you groaned, “Don’t kill him, I beg.”
Toji waved you off again, turning and stalking out to the parking lot, one hand pulling out his cigarettes as he went. That did not instill you with confidence.
You stopped by the bar before following them out, “Suguru, please don’t ban me, some drunkard picked a fight with Toji and now they’re going outside,” you said to your long-time friend.
His eyebrows raised with surprise, and he looked towards the front doors with curiosity, “Who, that toothpick that was dancing with you? Does he want to die?”
You shrugged, tossing some cash onto the table to close your tab. “You know where to find me if that doesn’t cover it. I’m going to go supervise.”
“Yeah, looks like they’re already drawing a crowd, you should probably get out there,” he said with a grimace, “I don’t have to ban you as long as the fight stays outside.”
“Awesome, thanks,” you said, relieved. “Later!” You called to him, rushing out of the bar.
The height of the summer had passed, the early stages of autumn creeping into your home state, and the air was brisk as you walked outside. Suguru had been correct, a crowd of roughly ten people was forming a semi-circle around Toji and the guy whose name you hadn’t even learned.
You pushed your way into the circle; your arms crossed with disappointment.
“Toji, go easy on him, please. I don’t have money to bail you out of jail,” you called to him.
In response, Toji locked eyes with you and lit a cigarette, then tucked the pack and his zippo into his pocket.
He let the cigarette dangle from his mouth as he put his fists up and turned to face his opponent. A few people in the crowd let out “ooh’s.”
You put your head in your hands to cover the embarrassed flush that was creeping from your ears to your cheeks.
You heard another cheer as, you assumed, the drunk guy put his own hands up.
“Let’s go, Kyle!” A pair of guys hollered from the opposite side of the circle, causing you to look up just in time to see Toji’s smile widen as he jumped out of the way of one of Kyle’s sloppy punches.
Toji wound up a punch aimed right at Kyle’s gut, he was moving slower than you knew he could, but you weren’t sure if that was because of the alcohol, or because he was trying to give Kyle a fighting chance.
Kyle twisted out of the way just in time, trying to swing towards Toji as he came in close. You sucked in a breath, even you could see that Kyle was off balance.
Toji didn’t flinch, the punch Kyle had aimed for his face missing by mere centimeters, and, just like that, Toji had won.
His fist exploded through the air, a horrible wet thwack sounding through the night as his knuckles made contact with Kyle’s cheek.
Kyle flew backwards with the momentum, landing flat on his back on the asphalt. He didn’t move to get up. The crowd cheered.
Your heart flew to your throat; you prayed he wouldn’t need to go to the hospital. Or worse.
Kyle’s friends rushed over to him, calling his name. After a couple of seconds of agonized waiting Kyle threw a weak thumbs-up into the air.
You blew out a breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding; now that you knew Kyle wasn’t dead or mangled, all your concern turned into rage. You turned around to glare at Toji.
He was smirking, snuffing his cigarette out with his shoe as he watched Kyle’s friends help him up and carry him away. You stormed over to him, blocking his view, his smile falling as he noticed your mood.
“Let’s get in the car, tough guy, we’re having a talk.”
He rolled his eyes but obeyed, not waiting for you as he trudged off to your car. You followed him, trying to let the coolness of the night calm some of your fury, but your car wasn’t parked very far, so it didn’t last long.
The pair of you climbed in and you started the engine, sitting in silence for a moment as Toji got settled. He stared straight ahead as he waited for you to speak.
“What the fuck was that about?” You demanded.
He shrugged, “He was all over you, doll. I didn’t like it.”
“I guessed that much! A little bit of an overreaction, maybe?” You seethed, clenching your fists to keep from strangling him.
He rolled his eyes, leaning his head back on the headrest. “The guy lived; I don’t get what you’re so upset about.”
“Toji, am I your girlfriend or not?”
His head jerked to you then, his green eyes flashing with alarm. “I am not sober enough for this conversation,” he said calmly.
“Fine, we can continue it later, but I’m serious. You can’t go around picking fights over me and being possessive if all we’re doing is sleeping together.”
“That is all we’re doing,” he growled. “You know that.”
“No, you’re not going to say that to me right now,” you huffed, buckling your seatbelt and beginning the drive, “We’ll talk about it at home, Toji.”
“Fine.”
The whole ride to the apartment was silent, but you could tell he was sobering up a little as the time passed. Once inside, you made grilled cheese sandwiches and ate them in silence, too.
You started a pot of coffee, then trekked to the bedroom to change clothes, Toji following you in. He had stashed a few outfits at your place, and even though you were upset, you weren’t mad enough to kick him out while you changed.
Neither of you spoke, as if in competition for who could stay quiet the longest, but you had started to feel calmer since walking through the door, and you prayed that he was still feeling as level-headed as he had been in the car.
You finished getting your comfy clothes on shortly after Toji did, and you followed him into the kitchen. Your heart softened when you saw him standing there, pouring two mugs of coffee, his face looking uncharacteristically apologetic.
He offered you a cup and you took it, the warmth spreading into your hands immediately, further relaxing your temper.
“Feeling better?” Toji asked softly. He’d washed the blood from his knuckles, you noticed.
“Yeah, I am. I’m sorry I yelled at you, I was just…” you tried to identify the feeling, “frustrated,” you decided.
He nodded; he considered. Then, slowly, and with much difficulty, he ground out, “That much, I can tell. I don’t understand why you’re frustrated.”
“Well, I didn’t think the situation needed to escalate that far. I tried to stop you, and you didn’t listen, which upsets me,” you explained.
“But you asked for my help. I saw you with those big doe eyes, flagging me down. I’m not an idiot.”
“I never said you were. I did ask for your help getting away from that guy; I didn’t ask you to fight him in the parking lot.”
“No, he asked for that. I couldn’t let him talk about you that way.”
You chewed your lip. This was exactly what you were getting at when you started this conversation, but you didn’t know how to word it without upsetting him.
“Why?” You asked simply, deciding that maybe you could lead him into the thought.
He snorted, “Because he called you a slut right to my face. Goddamn disrespectful.”
“And? Am I not?”
“What the fuck kind of question is that? Of course not.”
“Toji, I am sexually involved with a guy that’s not my boyfriend. That’s kind of textbook slut,” you pointed out.
“Get real, princess,” he drawled, “You and I both know you aren’t fucking anyone else.”
“So? What’s stopping me from doing that?” You weren’t sure if this was the right line of questioning, but you were already in this deep.
“Nothing. If you want to fuck other people, do it.”
“That wouldn’t hurt your feelings?” You deadpanned, not believing it for a second.
“Nope.”
“Okay, I’m going to download tinder and go hook up with someone,” you raised an eyebrow in challenge.
“Fine. Have fun,” he said, his expression perfectly guarded. He saw right through your bluff.
You narrowed your eyes, “Toji, you just knocked a guy out cold for insulting me in your vicinity, and you’re trying to tell me you wouldn’t be furious if I fucked another guy?”
He narrowed his eyes right back, “Yes. The difference is that I was defending you from someone you didn’t like, not keeping you all to myself.”
“That’s not what you said in the car. You fought him for you, and I know it, whether you do or not.”
He opened his mouth and then closed it, as if wanting to say something and then choosing against it. He thought for a second.
“What I said in the car didn’t mean anything. I only told you what I thought would make you feel better,” but it was too late, the hesitation told you everything you needed to know.
“You suck at lying to me, Toji. Why do you insist on pushing me away?”
“I don’t suck at lying, you suck at listening. It’s the truth.” His voice was cold. You searched his eyes for a hint as to what was going through his head, but they were flat, like he was blocking himself off from feeling.
“I don’t believe you,” the words came out quieter than you intended, just barely loud enough to be heard.
He took a deep breath in, then blew it out slowly. His arms were flexed, taut as a bowstring, his hands nearly shaking with the tension.
“I just can’t do it, doll,” he said, pain dripping from the words.
You blinked. “Can’t do what?”
“I’m not a good person,” he said, looking down at the floor and then back up at you.
“So?” You failed to see the point.
“So, you don’t want me. At least, not really. You’re young, and young people make bad choices. I can’t let you get caught up on a bad choice like me.”
You faltered for a moment, “Toji, don’t you dare bring age into this. You don’t know the first thing about what I want.”
He glared, the look cutting straight to your heart, “I do. When we started this thing, I told you that you weren’t allowed to fall in love with me, and I meant it.”
You groaned with frustration, “I’m not saying that I love you, I just want you to realize that you deserve it! You are allowed to be loved!”
It was his turn to blink at you. His eyes were wide with shock, and you knew it wasn’t because you’d raised your voice.
“You don’t have to block me out because you think that you’re a bad guy who does bad things and that you aren’t redeemable, because that isn’t true! You may not think you can be forgiven, but, in my eyes, you already are, at least in any way that matters. Your son loves you. Maki and Mai love you. And me? I’m not sure if what we have could be called that, and frankly, ‘love’ scares me too, but you could give me a chance, Toji,” you begged.
He shook his head, as if to clear it. “No. After everything I’ve been through, I can’t do it to you, or myself. I can’t let you be sucked into the black hole that is me. I’d be cursing you, and I’m the one who gets stuck dealing with the aftermath.”
You brought your hands to his face, your thumb brushing gently across the scar on the corner of his mouth, “I know you’re scared. You have every right to be, but you’re not a curse,” you said softly, “To me, you’re a blessing.”
He stilled, his expression shifting into something unreadable. “I never told you that.”
You cocked your head to the side, “Told me what?”
“Megumi means blessing,” he breathed, reaching his hands up to hold your wrists, then closed his eyes. “I picked it because that’s what she called him before he was born.”
He was caught in some unspoken memory. It was a rare occurrence, one that you didn’t ever mind, but every now and then he would be transported back to her, something simple like a joke he used to tell, or a meal she used to make.
Sometimes the memories hurt and he wouldn’t speak for a while, letting you hold him until he felt like himself again, but other times she brought him comfort when his feelings got too big to handle alone, so you stayed quiet until he was ready to speak.
He sighed, letting go of you and running a nervous hand through his hair.
“If I agree to be your boyfriend, you can’t be mad at me when I suck at doing boyfriend shit.”
You laughed, a spark of hope entering your heart, “And what do you define as ‘boyfriend shit?’”
“Like, meeting your family and being nice to you all the time. I’m not good at it.”
You laughed again, louder this time, pulling him into a hug. You breathed in his familiar scent, that cedar and citrus smell surrounding you as his arms encircled you, and you squeezed his midsection.
“Toji, you’re already nice to me, and I think my family will like you. I’ve never brought a guy home, so I think that they’d be overjoyed that I have a boyfriend at all,” you said, tipping your head up to look at his face.
“Ha, I seriously doubt that. I’m not exactly the kind of guy that parents like.”
“Whatever, I’m sure they’ll love you. Besides, you have a while before I ask you to meet them,” you reassured him, “Anyway,” you continued, drawing his eye, “Mark the date in your calendar so you don’t forget.”
He blinked, “Don’t forget what?”
“Our anniversary,” you grinned.
“You are diabolical,” he laughed, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to your lips.
“That’s a big word, who taught you that?” You teased.
“Shut up, smartass, or I’ll take it back.”
“No, you won’t. You’re stuck with me now,” you smiled.
“Seems like it,” he chuckled, sweeping you off your feet and carrying you, as if you were weightless, off to the bedroom, your coffees sitting forgotten on the countertop.
Your back hit the mattress, and you felt, for lack of a better term, ravenous for him. Toji seemed to be sharing the sentiment, his mouth pressing yours in a bruising kiss, hot with need; his hand slipped up your shirt and engulfed your breast, squeezing gently.
His body weight pressed down on you deliciously. One rough palm massaged your chest, the other hand propped him up, just barely, to keep from completely crushing you.
Pleasure started to build in your abdomen, and you whimpered into him softly, slipping your tongue between his lips and dragging it across the roof of his mouth hungrily. You hooked his waistband with your fingers and tugged. He chuckled against you, breaking your kiss to pull his shirt and yours off one-by-one before moving to do the same for pants.
He admired your body with a lazy grin in the low light of the room, your curtains were slightly ajar, letting in the moonlight and its subtle silver hues, highlighting the lines of muscle that decorated his body.
He brought his face close to yours, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered to you, “I am dying to get my mouth on that pretty pussy of yours, babe.”
You flushed, a wave of arousal making your head spin, you pressed a sloppy kiss to his lips before answering: “God, Toji, please do it,” you whispered.
He smirked, leaning back and settling between your legs. You braced your thighs on his broad shoulders, and he placed a searing kiss on the inside of your leg. He slid his hands from your hips towards your knees, gently spreading you open for him.
He glanced up, his green eyes full of lust, before he set his tongue on you. Immediate heat rushed through you, a moan escaping your lips as his tongue worked your clit with expert precision.
Your legs squirmed of their own accord as you tried to press yourself into him, but he held them still with an iron grip, closing his mouth around you and sucking with the perfect intensity. You shuddered with pleasure, your fingers reaching for his hair and sinking into it, pulling gently on his scalp.
He loved to have his hair pulled; he’d never told you as much out loud, but each time you did, including now, his body reacted to the touch. He groaned softly and tried to subtly pull away, so that the tension created by your fingers increased to deepen the pull.
His soft mouth continued with its ministrations, sucking and licking with enthusiasm. With each movement of his tongue your core heated by a few degrees, your back arching to give him the angle you craved.
Toji pressed his tongue flat across your entrance, slowly dragging upwards until just the tip of it was tapping gently on your clit. You whimpered, clenching your fists tighter in his hair, begging for more.
He drew slow languid circles around your sensitive cluster of nerves, the contact sending surges of electricity through your body as he toyed with you. He let his hands move to the backs of your legs, his strong thumbs pressing pleasurably into the soft skin of your inner thigh.
“Quit teasing me,” you pleaded, “just let me cum on your mouth.”
He stayed silent, letting his tongue do the talking for him. He pressed it against your clit, hard enough for you to see stars. You squeezed your eyes shut as he sucked and tapped with fervor, breathy moans escaping your mouth as your body was wracked with pleasure, white hot and quick, like lightning.
You shuddered violently with your climax, your breath coming in tiny gasps as your whole body tingled with the force of your release. You laid still as the aftershock wore off, your fingers falling from Toji’s hair as he moved to sit up.
He was smiling when his face came into your view again, his chin shiny with your slick and his own saliva.
“How can you expect me to believe you’ve never been paid to do that?” You asked breathily, weakly maneuvering your legs off his shoulders.
He laughed, sliding up next to you, his fingers already making their way back towards your dripping cunt.
“Are you offering? My fee might be a little steep for you,” he chuckled before pressing a kiss to your neck.
You felt the stirrings of another round beginning to bloom in your lower regions as you leaned into his kiss, letting his hand trail down to your waiting pussy.
“I don’t get a girlfriend discount?” You objected, the words getting cut short by two of his fingers entering your folds.
He smirked, “Sure, girlfriends get oral for free. You’re paying for the rest, though, I got a kid to feed.”
He let his thumb trail gently over your clit, letting it recover from your recent orgasm, but two fingers hovered just outside your entrance.
“Oh, just can it and fuck me already,” you said with a roll of your eyes.
He nodded, pushing those two fingers into you slowly, his eyes glazing over with heat.
“You’re so wet, doll,” he murmured as he thrusted gently, his thumb still playing with your clit.
You squeaked in response, your hands grabbing fistfuls of blankets as you tried desperately to keep from closing your legs, arching your back once again to get the stretch you were looking for.
You glanced over to him, taking in the view of his fully erect cock. He was dripping with precum, and if you weren’t having so much fun getting fucked by his fingers, you would’ve offered to blow him, he looked so good. He was big, the biggest you’d ever laid eyes on, but his dick was also pretty in a way, long and thick and rounded, fairly straight and, unlike the rest of him, untouched by scars. The view was making you wetter by the second.
After a few more pumps of his fingers, your body felt like putty in his hands. He pulled them out, your cunt squeezing around nothing as he did so. You glared at him, frustrated that he’d stopped.
“C’mon, doll, let me fuck you right,” he said huskily into your ear, “Flip over for me.”
“Condom,” you pointed to the nightstand drawer beside the bed.
He rolled his eyes, but conceded, reaching over and pulling one out of the drawer. You flipped onto your stomach and reached a hand under yourself, keeping yourself stimulated as you heard the crinkling of the wrapper being opened, and then a soft tink as it was tossed onto the floor.
“One day, you’ll beg me to fuck you raw and I’m not going to do it,” he murmured as he settled himself over you, guiding his cock to be perfectly aligned with your entrance.
“You’re full of shit, I know you wouldn’t pass up that chan-,” you were interrupted by him thrusting himself into you, all the way to the hilt.
You gasped, spots appearing in your vision as you adjusted to his large size.
“Fuck,” he breathed, his hands finding your hips and resting there.
Your walls fluttered around him, and he grunted as he slowly pulled himself out, nearly to the tip.
You tilted your hips up towards him, your fingers pressing your clit as he pounded himself inside again, the shift of your body affording him the perfect angle to drive you closer with each thrust of his hips.
You moaned with ecstasy as he adjusted his position to hover over you, his chest mere inches from your back, one hand sliding up your body and slipping between you and the mattress to squeeze your breast.
He sunk his teeth into the side of your neck and then brushed the spot with his tongue, beginning a steady pace. You whimpered softly, pleasure building with each movement as he pumped into you, your fingers stroking your clit in perfect time as you pushed your own hips into his, deepening the contact.
He continued that way for a few minutes before he began to pick up the pace, his breathing getting heavier as his thrusts got more erratic. You cried out, tears pricking in your eyes as you neared your edge for a second time, mind-numbing heat shooting through you.
You reached your orgasm with shattering force, equal to the first, a slew of curses and meaningless nonsense falling from your lips as Toji thrusted three powerful strokes into you with a sigh as he finished along with you, his cock twitching with the release. He rode out the aftershocks of your climax, letting you return to the present before pulling out.
Toji left the room to clean himself up, bringing a towel back with him and tossing it to you as he plopped down onto the bed.
You thanked him, wiping yourself down and wriggling underneath your comforter, snuggling into the blankets.
Toji adjusted himself to be under the covers, but he didn’t lay down, instead picking up his phone and scrolling on it for a minute.
You weren’t feeling particularly sleepy either, so you propped your head on his bicep and watched him scroll through Facebook, one of the only social media apps he frequented, though he never posted anything.
Nothing interesting seemed to populate on his timeline so he clicked the phone off and stared into the dimly lit room, seemingly lost in thought.
“What’re you thinking about?” You pried.
“I’m thinking that we should bring your tv in here,” he said.
“That’s it?”
He shrugged, jostling your head with the movement, “Yeah, I mean, you barely spend time in the living room anyway.”
“If you’ll set it up, I can make us popcorn, and we can put a movie on?”
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “We should sleep, babygirl. It’s late.”
“Come on, I’m not even tired and you’re superhuman, what’s another two hours? We have nowhere to be tomorrow.”
He chuckled, but you seemed to have convinced him.
He stood up and found his discarded pants on the floor, putting them on and disappearing from the room.
You followed suit, and in a few short minutes, your tv was on top of the dresser in your room and you had a bowl of fresh popcorn ready to go.
“What kind of movie are you in the mood for, muscles?”
“I don’t really watch movies, why don’t you pick?” He tossed a few pieces of popcorn in his mouth.
“I just don’t feel like deciding. What’s your favorite movie, then?” You prodded.
“I don’t know, Gladiator?” He suggested, “I like that one.”
“Hmm, I’ve never seen it. I’ll put it on,” you grinned, navigating to your preferred streaming service and, miraculously, it was available.
The movie was interesting and very well made, standing up to the test of time. It was a little bit of a “guy’s” movie, but you could see why Toji liked it, though you doubted it held much deeper meaning for him. It was somewhat funny, you could see a lot of parallels to Maximus and Toji, but, again, whether or not Toji related to him for any of those reasons or if he was merely a fan of the setting and the intensity of the movie and its violence, you couldn’t be sure.
“Can I ask a question?” You asked as the credits rolled across your screen.
He turned to look at you with a nod.
“When you’re at work, do you ever get scared?”
“Scared? No,” confidence oozed from the words, as if he thought the idea was ridiculous.
“If somebody is pointing a gun right at you, you’re not even a little afraid?” You couldn’t understand it.
“No, not really. There’s a lot that goes into it: the person, the gun, the distance, and the positioning. Also, if I have a weapon, that changes things too.”
“Huh. I don’t buy it,” you challenged.
“I’m not a pussy,” he smirked.
“Alright, tough guy, hypothetically, you wake up in a tiny room with one door, and some random person is between you and it, with a gun aimed right at you. Also, you’re tied to a chair. You’re not scared? Or at least nervous?”
“This is a very detailed hypothetical,” he laughed, though he brought a finger to his chin in thought, “but no, I’m not. I’d just be pissed off that I’m about to get shot again.”
“Oh, you’d be mad about dying?”
He chuckled, but there was no humor in it. He brought a hand up to ruffle your hair, “You’re cute. I could get out of that room, doll. No dying required.”
“Like, without a doubt?”
“Without a doubt.” He grinned, “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m tough,” and he flexed his biceps for emphasis.
You snorted, “Yeah, yeah, the real Baba Yaga, I know.”
He rolled his eyes. “You ready for bed, now? If we’re staying up all night, I need a cigarette,” he said.
“I’m pretty sleepy,” you said with a timely yawn.
You settled down into your pillows, pulling on Toji’s arm futilely. “Cuddle me, or I’ll die,” you ordered. “You’re dramatic,” he grumbled, but he laid down beside you, anyway, tucking your body tightly against his own.
I don’t know what it is about Vegeta but he always comes to me in pieces like this. Sharp edges first, something intense, something that almost feels like it might consume you if you let it and maybe that’s the point hehe there’s always that moment with him where everything is too much, and then suddenly, it isn’t because he’s holding you through it. Anyway lol let me know what you guys think!!
omg! i was stalking your page (respectfully) and i saw you also write for death note. NOW imagine light and L getting high together hehe
Okay this is amazing I’m gonna add this to my list of fic to write and I’ll tag you when I get to it lmao but I apologize that it will probably be a while 😅
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"Second-Hand Smoke" Hitman! Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader PART 3
Summary: Toji and our avid reader are not on speaking terms, but they can't stop thinking about one another. When Toji's babysitter can't make it, he has to call you to help out. Is it a bad idea? Probably. Does that stop him? No. Keep reading to find out what happens next!
Notes: I am working on the next chapter as this is being posted! Thanks everyone for reading so far and please give me a comment or a like to let me know if you're enjoying this!
TW: swearing and smoking, mentions of violence, use of weapons (non-violently) , descriptions of weapons (blades/firearms)
Toji leaned against a pillar in a crumbling parking garage, lighting a cigarette and taking a long, long drag. It was just past midnight, and this was his first cigarette since he’d woken up, which was approximately twenty hours ago. He listened to the sounds of distant police sirens and speeding cars piercing through the stagnant summer air as he waited for his handler to show himself and assign him another, hopefully more challenging, job.
The hit he’d just completed had been far too easy; he’d been in and out without incident and had barely gotten to flex his muscles. The bastard he’d killed had been asleep, and his security was far from airtight; even the cleanup went smoothly. It had been a breeze, which wasn’t exactly what Toji had had in mind for the evening. He was raring for a fight, his skin feeling too tight on his body and his blood feeling too hot in his veins.
He had tried and tried, but he could not get you out of his head. You were driving him crazy and he couldn’t make sense of it. It was starting to make him mad.
He had gone home that night and taken an ice-cold shower, which had only barely helped his erection go down, and his subsequent jerk-off session had been wildly unsatisfying. He couldn’t stop feeling the effects of your touch all over his body, even after all this time. When he closed his eyes, he felt the ghost of your gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth, right over top of that damned scar that told most sane people to stay the fuck away, and he could smell the sweet vanilla of whatever elixir you were wearing as if you were still lying naked underneath him.
Toji never got hung up on bitches. He also never felt guilty about leading them on, but you were fucking with his head and making him think about doing stupid shit like apologizing. He had barely been sleeping since he’d last seen you, so maybe that was why he was so messed up. He’d taken several jobs that were premium and completed them all in just a couple weeks, hoping for anything that might help him burn off some steam in less sexual ways, but they’d all gone, unusually, according to plan, which, while great for making money, was not so good for alleviating stress.
In truth, getting cock-blocked by a “what are we” talk had majorly pissed him off, and he had, admittedly, not been the nicest guy to be around for the past couple of weeks as a result.
He’d been almost tempted to hire someone, but he wasn’t quite ready to stoop that low. Worst-case scenario, he wasn’t lacking in the confidence to pick up a chick at a bar that was sorry enough to take him home for a night of mindless release.
“Why the long face, old friend?” Shiu interjected on his scowling, sauntering over from his fancy car that looked very out of place in this dilapidated garage.
Toji knew that Shiu didn’t really care; he was just being obnoxious because he had guessed exactly what he was thinking about without Toji having to tell him, and he was the kind of guy who reveled in both being right and other people’s suffering.
“Fuck off,” Toji said, flipping him the bird.
Shiu laughed, “Still feeling a little high-strung?”
“Nope, I’m right as rain. What do you have for me?” Toji breathed in another puff of his cigarette.
“Oh, just payment for your last job and details on a new one, if you want to hear it,” Shiu said, passing the simple black briefcase that he carried over to Toji, who rested it on the ground near his foot.
Toji considered this for a moment. He could go home and finally get a good night’s rest before he had to take Megumi to school, or he could take this job and pad his pockets before going to try and gamble himself into feeling normal again.
“Spill,” he ordered, choosing the latter and finishing his cigarette, putting it out against the concrete wall, then flicking it in Shiu’s direction.
“Damn, you are in a mood today!” Shiu exclaimed, dodging the cigarette butt clumsily before settling back in his place across from Toji, “The job is standard fare, customer wants discretion, target is a livestock guy and property owner, yada yada, his wife found out he’s cheating and wants the kids, so she’s due to collect on his life insurance policy instead of alimony. There has to be a body, she doesn’t want a search party, waiting game, legal fiasco. If you can make it look like an accident, she’ll throw in an extra 20 percent on top.”
“I’ll take it. Deadline?”
“She wants it handled sooner rather than later; deadline is tomorrow night. Don’t give me that look, she paid the rush fee! Said he’s actually going to be passing through here on his way to an auction, but only for a short time, so it’s up to you if you want to take that chance.”
“I’ll see what I’m working with and keep you in the loop. File in the case?”
“Yeah, but I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something if you’ve got a minute.”
Toji leveled his gaze at Shiu, eyes narrowed. “Go for it,” he said. The words sounded like a threat, even to himself.
Shiu lit his own cigarette and inhaled before answering. He blew out a puff of smoke and sighed.
“Toji, I think you should take a break.”
“What? Is that a joke?” He asked, half laughing.
“No, I’m serious. You’ve been working nonstop for weeks now. You should go home, spend time with your kid, give your nieces a night off or two, maybe get some real sleep. I see those bags under your eyes. This ain’t good for you.”
“You, of all people, are telling me that? After you were on my ass to get back in for all that time?” Toji clenched his fist at his side.
“You were depressed then, I think you’re depressed now. You’ve gotta stop eventually, or you’re gonna get hurt. I’ve seen it happen before, time and time again.”
“Not to someone as good as me, though, right?” Toji smirked.
“That’s not fair, you and I both know there’s nobody out there as good as you, but-”
“Then stop fucking worrying about me. I’m fine,” he interrupted sharply.
Shiu clicked his tongue and leaned against the wall. “When your kid winds up an orphan, I’ll be sure to piss on your grave when I say I told you so.”
Toji resisted the urge to sucker punch Shiu with extreme difficulty. He had to be dreaming if he thought Toji was actually in any danger, and what, depressed? No fucking way. He needed an old-fashioned brawl or a decent fuck, and that was that.
“Thanks for the advice, Shiu,” his voice oozed with sarcasm as he picked up the briefcase and stalked off towards his car.
“Anytime, Fushiguro! You’re lucky I don’t charge you for this stuff,” Shiu called to him.
Toji just flashed the middle finger again.
He made it nearly back to his apartment and had smoked another cigarette before his phone started ringing. He picked it up, read the caller ID, and then slid to answer.
“Hey, kiddo. I’m almost home, but I can’t stay long. Got your payment for the week.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so, Unc.”
He flexed his jaw, “I am having a shit day, and I am very much not in the mood for your sass, Maki.”
“I know. That’s why I’m done covering for your ass. Mai and I have to leave for a school trip tomorrow, and we can’t stay to watch Megumi. Who, I should mention, has not seen you in days.”
“I don’t have anyone else, and I have to work tonight and tomorrow; can’t you just tell them you’re sick?” He ignored the statement about Megumi. The kid barely tolerated him anyway; he was sure a few more days wouldn’t kill him.
“No, we’re both only one absence away from being truant because of you, and attendance on this trip is part of our grade. Find someone else or watch your own damn kid.”
“Maki-” he was cut off by the line disconnecting as she hung up.
“Fuck,” he swore, wracking his brain for anyone he trusted to stay alone with his only son.
He realized, stomach sinking, that he really didn’t have any friends. He had plenty of connections in the business of information, killing, and politics, but not many people he could count on in moments like these, outside of family.
He felt a sharp pang of grief, like a scab reopening in his chest, as he thought it. The force of it took his breath away.
He missed his wife.
For him, the mourning never really ended, but often faded into the background. Whether he was working or sleeping around, he knew that she was okay with it; she’d said on her deathbed that she knew him and what he’d been like before her, she just wanted him to be “well,” in whatever way he could muster. She had been specific with her wording, like she’d secretly known when she died that “happy” would be a much more difficult achievement for Toji. However, when the grieving resurfaced, Toji always found himself surprised; the raw sting of it was just as fresh as the day she’d died, minus the shock and the horror of it all. What would she say to him right now?
Toji shook his head, clearing it. He didn’t want to get sucked into picturing her; it would lead to nowhere good.
As he pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex and passed by the laundry room, a flash of another memory appeared to him: you in your tiny shorts with a laundry basket balanced on your hip.
I love kids. I’ve wanted them myself since I was a little girl, you’d said, a little sheepish, but honest in a way that he wasn’t used to.
He considered it, deciding that ultimately he had no other choice. He hadn’t wanted this; he generally refrained from letting anyone meet Megumi. He didn’t like messing with the kids' routine, and he didn’t want him to feel like Toji was trying to replace his mother. Megumi was young enough that Toji worried that introducing an impermanent female figure to his life would give him issues as an adult, and, as an adult with issues, he would like to prevent it if he could.
He sighed, hoping that you hadn’t already blocked him, but he felt like calling was safer than knocking on your door.
It took him a moment to find your number in his phone, but he eventually did and pressed the “call now” button with no hesitation. He felt oddly anxious as he listened to it ring, but pushed the feeling down, trying to think of what to say if you did miraculously answer.
Another half ring, then silence. He held his breath as he waited for you to speak.
“If the first words out of your mouth aren’t ‘I’m sorry, doll,’ then I am hanging up this call and blocking your number,” you snapped.
He rolled his eyes, “I’m sorry, princess, but I’m not begging for you to take me back. I’m calling to ask for a favor.”
“Watch it, mister,” you warned, and he knew you weren’t joking. “A favor?”
“Yes, a favor. I need someone to watch Megumi for tonight and tomorrow. My nieces are going on a school trip they can’t miss, and I’ve got to go to a job site out of town. You’re the only other person I could call.”
“What’s in it for me if I accept?” You asked.
“I guess I’ll owe you one? Or I can pay,” he said.
“No need! I’ll take you up on the favor!”
He regretted his choice of words instantly, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers, “Why does that sound like a threat?”
You laughed deviously, “You don’t want to know.”
“So, you’ll do it?”
“Yep! You’re lucky; I already had someone cover my shift tomorrow. When do I start?”
“If you want to catch a ride with me, I’m just pulling into the parking lot. I can be at your apartment in a minute.”
“Sure, I’ll pack an overnight bag and be right down.”
“See you soon, doll.”
Beep, beep, beep. The call disconnected.
He drove to your unit, parked the car, and lit up yet another cigarette while he waited for you to emerge.
He watched as your front door opened and you stepped out into the nighttime stillness, a tote bag slung over your shoulder. You were wearing a T-shirt that the sleeves had been cut off of, leaving the arm holes gaping open from your shoulder all the way down your ribs, visibly revealing that you were not wearing a bra.
He tried to distract himself from thinking too hard about it by alphabetically naming every gun he owned as you skipped down the stairs.
You clambered into the car, a satisfied smirk on your face as you dropped your bag onto the floorboard and closed the door. He felt a fierce headache coming on.
“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” he scoffed, white knuckling the steering wheel.
Your smile faltered, “What? Is something wrong?”
“You can’t wear that in front of my eight-year-old.”
“Is he awake this late?” You asked, sounding genuinely concerned, “Also, what’s wrong with my outfit?”
“No, at least he shouldn’t be, but he could wake up; he’s a light sleeper. Sorry, doll, but your tits are practically falling out of that shirt, which is not exactly appropriate. Also, unrelated but still important, I haven’t been home yet, so my very perceptive niece is probably going to ask if we’re fucking or not, just warning you.”
Your eyes softened, just barely, and you nodded. “I packed a hoodie I can put on before we go inside, and the answer to that question is easy: we’re not. At least, not unless there’s something you have to say to me.”
You waited in the charged silence as he thought about how best to answer.
He sighed, taking a chance and going with it, “Look, I’m sorry for leading you on. That was a dick move, I know. I also know that you’re pissed at me, which I deserve.”
“And?” You nodded, waiting for him to continue.
Fuck it.
“Look, I like you, doll. If you’ll have me, I’d like to at least try to be friends.”
“Okay, and by ‘like’ me, do you mean, like, in a more than sexual kind of way or… I’m just trying to make sure I know what I’m agreeing to because one of us,” you glared, “is not known for clear communication.”
He winced, “I guess I deserve that, too. I mean that I like you in a sexual way and as a human being.”
“Toji, I need to know if you’re asking to be fuck-buddies or not.” You said flatly.
“I’m not trying to be a complete tool, but if you’re interested in that, I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Just don’t go falling in love with me or anything, and we’re kosher.”
You thought about this for longer than Toji had imagined you would, your fingers drumming a nervous beat on your leg.
“Fine, we can be friends with benefits if that’s what you want, but I’m calling in part one of my favor for watching Megumi right now.”
“Part one?” He asked, skeptical.
“Don’t worry about it, part two is easy.”
He shrugged. How bad could it be? “Whatever you want, doll.”
“Tomorrow night, when you get back from work,” you paused, as if for effect.
“After I get back?” He prodded.
“I get to stay with you. Your house, if your nieces are busy, or mine, I don’t care, but we are sharing a bed whether you like it or not,” you finished with a sly smile.
He raised an eyebrow. Had you been feeling as pent up as him, or did you have another meaning in mind? Your face made him question your wording, which seemed off to imply sex, but also, you literally said “share a bed,” so maybe he was overthinking it. This “part two” business was making him worry.
“Alright, I can make that happen, but you'd better be able to be quiet if we’re at my house. I’m not exposing my kid to shit like that.”
Your grin turned devilish, “We’ll see how it goes. Now, get us to your place already, I’m dying to see what your house is like.”
“You are so weird,” he said, shaking his head and beginning the short drive across the complex.
Having this talk with you had done a number on him, and he felt like he was about to explode. His earlier discomfort was back, multiplied tenfold.
He prayed to whatever god was listening that he didn’t pop a boner in front of Maki. The only thing that had protected him the last time he’d seen you was that she had fallen asleep on the couch and saved himself the humiliation and saved her the trauma.
His muscles were itching for something to do. Maybe he would go to the gym after this job was done and get in a few reps.
Toji parked the car, again trying to force his mind to wander away from the idea that you were sitting just a few feet away from him with nothing but a T-shirt and shorts on.
“Alright, before we go in, I’m gonna lay a few ground rules.”
You fished your hoodie from your bag and slipped it over your head before nodding. The jacket was a thin, grey thing that bore no distinctive marks or brands, but it looked comfortable.
“Megumi goes to bed at 8:30, school starts at 7:45, and ends at 4:15. If you get him there by 7:15, he’ll eat breakfast at school, but if you’re too late, he needs to eat here. He eats whatever you make, and he doesn’t see you smoke; I don’t like him breathing that shit. Also, there’s a room at the end of the hall that no one but me is allowed in, got it?”
“Sir, yes, sir.” You saluted.
“I’m dead serious.” He said, trying to sound like he meant it.
“Okay, okay, I won’t go into your secret sex dungeon, you don’t have to get all scary about it.”
He rolled his eyes, “Alright, let’s get this over with,” and he stalked out of the car, collecting his briefcase from the backseat.
He watched as your eyes tracked it with uncanny precision, the gears in your head turning and turning. He chose to ignore it, walking up to his front door and letting himself in.
“It’s me, I brought your replacement,” he said into the quiet house, not daring to raise his voice, for Megumi’s sake.
“Hey, Unc,” Maki replied from, he thought, the living room.
He rolled his eyes, though he knew she couldn’t see him.
You crept up next to him, unsure what to do with yourself, but there was humor in your eyes as you overheard her and closed the front door behind you.
“I’ll give you a tour,” he offered, and you nodded, following his lead as he walked through the archway to the right of him.
“This is the living room, as you can see, and this is my beloved niece, Maki,” he said with mock sweetness.
“Yo,” Maki said, “Is this your new sugar mama?” She asked, not looking up from her phone as she sprawled out on the couch. She had the TV on, but muted. Her dark hair was in its usual ponytail, and she still wore her school uniform, which was odd, considering the time.
“No, this is my neighbor, she’s going to watch Megumi for me. Also, stop calling me ‘Unc.’ I know I’m actually your uncle, but I also know you brats use that like ‘old,’ and I’m really not,” he said.
She laughed at that, standing up and examining you with her sharp eyes. “You slept with him, yet?” Maki asked you.
“Nope.”
She nodded, apparently finding that to be a satisfactory answer. “I like her,” she said to Toji before turning back to you, “If anything happens to my cousin while I’m gone, I’ll cut you.”
“I promise I’ll keep him safe. Enjoy your school trip, Maki,” you said, smiling kindly at her.
Maki nodded to you, “I left some dinner in the fridge, and I made sure to tell Megumi that I would be gone and someone else was going to take care of him for the next couple of days. I already packed him a lunchbox for tomorrow, and his water bottle is drying on the counter. I can give you my number in case you have questions.”
You nodded gratefully, and the pair of you swapped info. Maki wrapped Toji in a quick hug and disappeared out the door.
“You two seem close,” you said softly.
“Yeah, they’re good kids. Her and her sister, both,” he trailed off, before remembering that he was supposed to be showing you around.
He directed you out of the living room through the door you came in, showing you the kitchen and dining room, then quietly pointing out the doors in the hall.
“The first door on the left is the bathroom, then Megumi’s room is in the middle. The door at the end is the office that’s off limits, and mine is the one on the right. You’re welcome to sleep on the couch if you want to, but my bed is open if you’d rather that,” he said.
“Okay, I’ll probably take you up on that. You headed out soon?”
“Yeah, I’ve gotta get going. I should be back tomorrow; it could be early or late, I don’t really know. I’ll text you.”
You nodded and said your goodbyes. He collected what he needed from his room and office, careful to keep you from peeking in, then grabbed the file Shiu had provided him and headed out to his car to review it and formulate his plan.
This was shaping up to be a tough gig, he realized with satisfaction.
This is going to be fun, he smirked, throwing the car in gear and calling Shiu to update him.
You sat at the edge of the breakfast bar in the kitchen, having just finished snooping around the small apartment. It was a different layout than yours, with two more bedrooms and an additional bathroom in the master suite, but it was sparsely decorated, excluding the scrawled Crayon drawings that presumably belonged to Megumi, hanging on the fridge.
You had looked for a family photo or a school picture just out of curiosity and come up with nothing, even in Toji’s room, which was clean, though cramped. He had a king-sized bed that dwarfed the room, but you supposed a guy with a stature like Toji’s needed a large bed in order to sleep comfortably. His closet was full of plain black T-shirts, though there were a handful way in the back that had some kind of wording on them, most notably one that simply read “DILF,” which made you laugh.
You had taken a peek into his dresser and nightstand drawers and found exactly nothing of intrigue, though you noted that there was a small stash of condoms that were size XL. You filed that information away for later. His bathroom was clean, smelling faintly like that cologne he wore, his razor and aftershave left haphazardly on the counter.
Throughout the home, there was a distinct lack of anything related to construction, you noted. It didn’t add up; there were no work gloves, boots, or even a hard hat. You seriously doubted that he had all of that in the trunk of his car, the interior was clean of that kind of debris, and there was no way he could come off the jobsite and drive that beater home without there being any dust. You also weren’t blind; you'd noticed him carrying that briefcase into the “office” and leaving with a file.
Also, he looked completely exhausted. Based on the circles under his eyes, you imagined he hadn’t slept since last night, or possibly earlier than that, but you couldn’t figure out why.
You were getting into that room, you decided. Whatever clue you were missing had to be in there.
There was also the conversation you had with him in the car to unpack. He’d said he “liked you.” He also said, in not unclear terms, that he wasn’t interested in a real relationship right now, which seemed like conflicting ideas, because if you sleep with a person you “like,” things are bound to get complicated.
You weren’t sure what had made you agree, if you were honest with yourself. You’d never had a friend with benefits before, and you weren’t sure if it was going to involve seeing each other outside of booty calls or if the “friends” part of that statement was merely transactional. Maybe you were naïve, but if you did get to hang out with him, that sounded an awful lot like being his girlfriend without putting the label on, and you weren’t sure how you felt about that. You just knew that you liked spending time with him, and you craved physical intimacy in a way that you hadn’t in a long time, which could have also explained some of your eagerness, you supposed.
Tiny footsteps creeping up the hallway interrupted your musings, and you looked up in time to see a little head of wild black hair peeking out from behind the wall.
“You’re not my dad,” he said simply, as if this were an everyday occurrence.
“That’s right, I’m not,” you said apologetically, “But your dad did ask me to stay here and look after you until he gets back from his trip tomorrow.”
Megumi’s eyes narrowed, scrutinizing you with suspicion. He looked so incredibly like Toji in that moment that you almost laughed out loud, but you held it in so as not to embarrass the boy.
“Prove it,” he said, seriously. “Tell me his name. First and last.”
“Toji Fushiguro, and you’re Megumi Fushiguro.”
“Hmm,” he nodded, deeming that to be enough questions to trust you.
“What’s got you awake so late, buddy?” You asked, checking the clock. It was nearly 1:30 a.m.
“I had a bad dream. There was a big dog coming to eat me.”
“That does sound pretty scary,” you nodded. “Do you need me to tuck you back in?”
He looked to the floor before looking back up at you, his eyes watery with tears, and nodded.
You walked over and scooped him into a hug; he was carrying a soft blue blanket and a little white stuffed rabbit. He held them both tightly to his chest, even as you carried him back into his room, which, unlike the rest of the home, was decorated with posters and stickers for monster trucks, dinosaurs, and transformers. He had a toy box in the corner of the room that overflowed with toys, and a small desk that was surprisingly neat, with colored pencils, crayons, and markers all in their boxes lying near a pile of blank paper that you assumed he used for his drawings.
You set him down on the bed and sat beside him. He adjusted all the covers to his liking and stared back at you, his eyes wide and curious.
“I’ll see you in the morning to get you ready for school, okay? If you need me before then, I’ll be in your dad’s room. Don’t be afraid to come get me.”
He nodded, and you patted his shoulder. “Alright, goodnight, buddy.”
“Wait,” he said, reaching out and grabbing your sleeve.
“Yeah? What’s up?”
“How do you know my dad?” He asked.
“I’m your neighbor, we met in the laundry room a while back.”
“Are you friends?”
You thought about it for a second before replying, “I’d say so, yes.”
He considered this briefly, lying down on his pillow, his eyebrows furrowing at the new information.
“Okay. I was just checking. I didn’t know he had friends.”
You chuckled, “Yeah, your dad can be a little intense, sometimes. He doesn’t scare me, though.”
“Me neither,” he looked around as if to make sure you were alone, and then gestured for you to lean in. You did, and he whispered in your ear, “He likes to act really tough, but he’s actually nice. He doesn't know that I know that.”
You giggled, whispering back, “I know that, too. Let’s keep it our secret, okay? But no other secrets are allowed, got it?”
He nodded, grinning widely, “Okay, you got it. Our secret,” he said, and you watched as his eyelids started to droop.
“Get some sleep, kiddo. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He nodded, and you stood up and slipped out the door as quietly as you could.
You brushed your teeth and tucked yourself into Toji’s bed. It seemed massive compared to your queen-size, but you could tell which side Toji slept on, because there was a divot in the mattress that you kept getting sucked into. The sheets smelled like Toji, and you tried to keep yourself from wondering how long it had been since they’d been washed, but there wasn’t anything visibly or texturally gross, so you let it slide for now.
His pillows were cheap, and you wished you had brought one of your fancy feather pillows; you were already wide awake, and being uncomfortable was just going to keep you up later, which sucked because you had to be up early to take Megumi to school.
You adjusted your alarms and lay awake, staring at the ceiling, when your phone buzzed against the nightstand.
| Suguru G.: Why is your location showing that you’re in a different apartment building :D
| You: Because I’m babysitting
| Suguru G.: HAH be so fr
| Suguru G.: wait are u serious
| Suguru G.: is it that asshole you brought to the bar
| You: … maybe
Your phone started to ring, and you answered it quickly.
“Heads up, Satoru is here, and you’re on speaker. What the hell are you thinking? I thought you were done with that guy?”
“Hey, Satoruuu,” you said, smiling into the phone as you ignored Suguru’s very valid point.
“Hiii! If it isn’t my boyfriend's best friend! You’re stressing him out, you know, you’ve really gotta start making better choices.” His saccharine sweetness contrasting with Suguru’s bluntness in an almost comical way.
“If your boyfriend wasn’t all up in my grill, he’d have less to worry about!”
“It’s okay, when he’s stressed, he gets needy so-” you heard rustling and muffled laughs as you assumed Suguru covered Satoru’s mouth to keep him from saying whatever he’d been about to.
“I do not!”
You heard a distant “Lies!” In Satoru’s voice, before Suguru addressed you again.
“Sorry about him, you know how he gets.”
“You guys are cute, don’t worry about it. Anyway, I was done with Toji, but he apologized and he begged me to watch his kid since his usual couldn’t and then we, uh… decided to be friends!” You cringed; you hadn’t realized how desperate it sounded until you said it out loud,
“‘Friends,’ huh?” You could hear his eyebrow raising with skepticism, “So, what, are you going to fuck him?”
You sighed, “You know me too well. We decided on ‘friends with benefits’ for now. I don’t know exactly what that means to him, but I guess I’ll find out.”
“Honey, that means he’s using you as a babysitter and for your pussy, and you’re letting him! The feminists are screaming and crying, right now.”
“The feminists can eat my ass,” you said dismissively, “I don’t know why, I just have a feeling that he likes me more than he’s letting on. His wife died, you know, he’s probably got trauma.”
“Yeah, and you found that out by stalking him on the internet. Clearly, you have very open and honest communication,” Suguru deadpanned.
“Hey, stalking on the internet is completely normal and justified,” you said, “Ain’t that right, Satoru?”
“Whoa, how’d my name get dragged into this? I’ve never stalked,” Satoru said coyly.
“Don’t lie, you totally stalked Suguru before you went on a date,” you teased.
“Okay, I did,” he admitted.
“What? I didn’t know that! How did she know that?” Suguru exclaimed.
“Don’t worry, I only saw all those embarrassing high school photos of you with your emo hair,” Satoru giggled.
“Okay, at least I wasn’t built like a string bean in high school.”
“Ouch! Too far, we’ve gone too far!”
You smiled wistfully to yourself as you listened to their banter. You wanted that for yourself, someone to gab and joke around with, someone to share history and space with. You weren’t sure if Toji was that person, but you couldn’t deny that a small part of you wanted him to be.
“Hello-o-o, are you still there?” Suguru’s voice called to you from the other end of the phone.
“Yeah, I’m here. Just getting sleepy, is all.”
“Okay, we can let you go to bed. I just want you to be careful. I know your heart; I can tell you like this guy. I just don’t want you to end up hurt because he doesn't like you back, or in the same way. Just look out for the signs and pay attention to what they’re telling you.”
“You got it, Suguru. Goodnight, fellas.”
“Goodnight!” The pair of them called, and you hung up the phone.
Your heart felt lighter for having talked to them, but your thoughts were running wild, wondering if you’d made a mistake to be here, or a mistake agreeing to this whole arrangement. You wondered what was behind that office door, and what secrets Toji was keeping. As your tumultuous thoughts turned and turned, you somehow managed to fall asleep.
The morning came too soon for both you and Megumi. The kid was wiped out from his excursion the night before; apparently, he’d had just as much trouble staying asleep as you.
You brewed a small pot of coffee for yourself and helped Megumi get ready for school, first attempting to control his wild hair, without much luck, then gathering his backpack and lunchbox and filling his water bottle. He moved about groggily, yawning and rubbing his eyes as he munched on a Pop-Tart.
“You didn’t sleep well?” You asked, sipping coffee from a mug that read “World’s Okayest Dad.”
He shook his head. “Can I skip school today? I’m too tired to learn.”
“I’m sorry, buddy, your dad probably wouldn’t like that. Maybe your friends at school will be able to help you wake up.”
He considered this, “My best friend is usually really awake in the morning, so that could work.”
“Maybe your friend can share some energy with you,” you suggested with a grin.
Megumi scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. “That’s impossible. People can’t do that,” he chided, his face looking uncannily like Toji as he cut a glance to you.
“Oh, my bad,” you raised your hands in mock surrender, “I didn’t know you were the fun police,” you joked.
He blinked, then tipped his head, as though understanding your joke, but not laughing.
“You’re weird,” he said flatly.
You laughed at that. “Funnily enough, your dad said that, too. Now, we’ve gotta get you to school, so finish up your breakfast.”
Turns out, the kiddo did have a car seat, it just didn’t stay in the car in case of this exact scenario, so you had to walk with it across the parking lot to your building in order to get to your car. It wasn’t heavy, so you managed to carry it on your own, but you still apologized to Megumi for making him walk, though he didn’t seem to mind. He looked like he was enjoying the early morning exercise, the little jaunt waking him up a tad.
He got in the car and buckled himself in easily. Megumi also knew exactly how to get to his school, and he directed you there without trouble.
Independent kid, you thought to yourself as you watched him enter the building, his stride unbothered and confident. He walked through the front door without looking back at you.
Once you returned to the apartment, you finished your coffee and decided to try your luck with the office door.
Unfortunately, it didn’t swing wide open, but you hadn’t expected it to. You ran your fingers over the tops of the doorframes, searching for keys, and you found one, but it didn’t fit the keyhole for the office door, so you put it back where you found it.
You went to your overnight bag and searched for a handful of bobby pins in your makeup bag. You’d seen them used to pick locks before, in movies and TV shows, anyway. How hard could it be?
You were beginning to wonder at the moral implications of breaking into Toji’s private property as you fiddled with the lock when you felt it give way beneath your fingers. You pushed away your guilt and your doubts as you took a deep breath in and opened the door.
At first, the room looked shockingly normal. There was an armoire with the doors open that had what you thought was…
A shrine, you realized, and you felt sick to your stomach. This was a mistake, after all. You shouldn’t be here.
A photo of Toji’s late wife, it couldn’t be anyone else, Megumi looked like her, too, you noticed sadly. The picture was surrounded by dried flowers and little candies, offerings, sitting prettily in the center of the single shelf, an incense bowl right next to it, unlit.
You turned to go, your heart squeezing with the emotion of it all, when you noticed the black box on the other side of the room.
The box was hulking, taking up nearly the whole wall in width, and it stood nearly as tall as you. There was a keypad located near the handle, but the door was just slightly ajar.
You walked over and nudged it gingerly with the heel of your hand, gasping as you got a peek inside.
You were staring right into an honest-to-God arsenal. There were too many guns and knives, even a few swords, for you to begin to count.
You backed away slowly, your breath getting caught in your throat as you reached for the door handle behind you.
“Why’d you have to go and do that, doll?” A rumbling voice broke the silence.
Suddenly, the room felt very small, and you felt very weak. Your heart dropped to your stomach, and the blood drained from your face as you turned to face him.
His body filled the doorway, and you realized with abject horror that the right side of him was spattered with blood, his sleepless eyes meeting yours, and they reminded you of a shark’s. Dead, unfeeling, predatory eyes.
Everything clicked for you in that split second, and you started to laugh. Hysterical, uncontrollable, crazed laughter that Toji ignored.
“I can’t believe I thought you were a sex worker,” you wheezed, “contract killer makes way more sense.”
He paused for a moment, clearly, that wasn't what he'd thought you were going to say.
“Baby, I barely got the pants off of you, and you thought I was a whore?” He asked, incredulous. He still hadn’t moved from the doorway.
You sucked in a wild breath. You were pretty sure you were hyperventilating and about to pass out, but you pushed through. “It’s not crazy to believe! You work nights, doing something illegal, and your body is in incredible shape! Also, those few minutes we had have been on repeat in my head for the past two weeks, but that’s beside the point. I didn’t think you earned much money because you live in this shithole, so I excluded anything…” You swallowed a hiccup, the last of your laughter fading away, “Anything violent. But that explains the blood, I guess.”
“The blood?” His face scrunched with confusion, and you chuckled a little as you remembered that, just a while ago, Megumi had made that exact face.
“When we first met, I got blood on my hand from somewhere. I assumed it was mine, but I couldn’t find a cut anywhere on me. It was from you, or your phone, rather.”
“Hmm,” he nodded. “So, you figured it out. What now?”
That stopped you short. “What, I get to pick?”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to kill you, doll. I only kill for money. Honest.”
You blew out a relieved breath, but you weren’t sure if you believed him.
“O-okay, so I’m free to leave?”
“If that’s what you want. I’d appreciate it if you told me whether you’re going to the cops or not, so I can get my kid and skip town, but if you’re not doing that, then nothing has to change.”
“Can you let me out of this room?”
He sighed, stepping inside, leaving the door open behind him. He pulled up his pant leg and removed two knives from a sheath he had there, stashing them in the armory, as well as a pistol from his waistband. He pulled off his shirt, revealing a harness-like contraption that had, unsurprisingly, more knives and another gun in their respective slots. He unbuckled the whole harness and tossed it into the bottom of the box, then closed the door, letting the lock fall into place.
You watched him, mesmerized, as he looked back up at you. Some life was returning to his eyes, but they weren’t yet back to normal.
“I’m going to take a shower now. Stay, or don’t.”
“Who did you kill?” You blurted.
His lips pressed together, forming a thin line. “I don’t think you really want to know the answer to that question.”
“Were they a bad person?”
“He cheated on his wife,” he said with a shrug.
You swallowed hard, barely squeaking out the words as you asked, “How many people?”
He blinked, surprised. “In total?”
“Duh.”
“I haven’t kept track. It’s a lot, though. Not everyone I’ve killed was bad, and sometimes the wrong people get caught in the wrong place at the wrong time,” his eyes flashed with that flat, dead expression for a moment.
“Women? Kids?”
His jaw clenched, and he nodded, but he stood there, shirtless and dotted with someone else’s blood, as you scrutinized him.
“This is… a lot to process,” you choked out.
He nodded again, otherwise unmoving.
“Go take your shower, Toji. I need to think.”
He let out a breath you hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He turned to the shrine, briefly staring at the photo that rested there, then he breezed through the door and into his bedroom.
You walked outside as if in a dream. You sat down on the concrete and smoked a cigarette.
What the fuck do I do?
You curled your knees to your chest and rested your head on them, trying to form a coherent thought aside from “what the fuck.”
You couldn’t rationalize this. You couldn’t believe you were considering this. You should have sprinted out the door the moment he let you. You should be thanking the Lord above that he let you live at all. You should be calling the cops right now, so they could put you in witness protection.
You knew that you wouldn’t do that, though. As insane as it was, as insane as you were, Toji was a good dad. Megumi was a good kid. You couldn’t bear to be the reason they were separated, and you had no doubt that Toji would raze the earth for Megumi, and you didn’t want that blood on your hands.
All his closed-off behavior made sense now. His fear of emotional attachment, his deflections, all of it. He clearly loved his wife. Had she known about his job and still decided to have a life with him? Had she gotten somehow caught in the crossfire? You realized you didn’t know how she’d died. Did it matter?
Were you in danger from forces other than Toji?
The questions just kept going, and going, and going. Only one person would be able to answer them, you decided, and you stood up and headed back inside.
The shower was still running when you walked in, so you strode to the living room and waited on the couch.
You weren’t sure how much time passed before you finally heard the water shut off, and a few moments later, Toji appeared in the doorway. He had a towel draped over his bare shoulders, but he wore a pair of baggy black sweatpants that were clearly well-loved, holey in places, and frayed at the hem.
He blinked with surprise when he saw you. “You stayed,” he said stiffly.
“I did. I have questions for you, but, frankly, you look like you could sleep for a thousand years and still wake up tired.”
“Thanks,” he said with a roll of his eyes, “I honestly couldn't tell you the last time I slept longer than a couple of hours.”
You stood from the couch, and he stiffened as you approached him. You pulled the towel off his shoulders and dropped it on the ground.
“I was using that,” he said, his tone betraying his annoyance.
“I want to look at you,” you ordered.
He straightened his posture as you inspected his skin, looking for the spot that your hands had felt when you’d last touched him.
“Was this a bullet wound?” You asked softly, your fingers itching to brush over the raised red scar on his ribs, but you refrained. It was one of many scars, though it was the only one that was so circular; the rest appeared to be stabs or slices, thin lines drawn all over his skin in different directions, some barely visible, others more so.
He glanced down absentmindedly. “Yeah, I was twenty-something and stupid, and I let myself get shot. Not a very good story, unfortunately.”
You nodded, looking back up at his face, “Alright, old man, let’s get you into bed.”
“I’m not old,” he grumbled, reaching to the floor to pick up the discarded towel and then heading off into his bedroom.
You followed him, suddenly feeling exhausted yourself. You closed the bedroom door behind you as you entered.
He padded into the bathroom, and you tossed your hoodie onto the floor, leaving your sleeveless T-shirt, and slipped under the covers of Toji’s bed.
He hung up the towel on a hook and turned to the bed, spotting you.
“What are you doing in there, doll?” He sighed.
“This is part of my favor, remember? I’m gonna nap with you. Don’t worry, I set an alarm, so I’ll be up in time to pick up Megumi if you’re still asleep.”
He nodded, practically falling into bed, lying face down on top of all the covers.
“I thought your favor would involve sex,” he murmured, his words barely understandable through the pillow he spoke into.
“Yeah, yeah, when you’re not a zombie anymore, we can talk about that, but you need to sleep. Now, get under the covers properly, you’re heavy as fuck.”
He chuckled, but obliged, finagling his body underneath the blankets. He shifted onto his back, and then his side, trying to get comfortable.
“What’s wrong?” You asked sleepily.
“Pants,” he grumbled.
“You can take them off, Toji, as long as you’re in boxers, I don’t care.”
“Thank god.” He said, and in seconds his sweats were on the ground.
He seemed immediately calmer, rolling once more to face you, and in minutes his breathing was heavy and slow.
You watched him sleep for a minute, your own eyelids getting heavier by the moment. You closed your eyes and drifted off into sleep.
You awoke a few hours later, dying of thirst. Somehow, in your sleep, you’d managed to become the little spoon to Toji’s big, his arm lying heavily across your waist, his forehead pressed gently against the back of your neck. Your back was sticky with sweat, his bare skin reaching furnace levels of heat as you tried to peel yourself away from him.
As you moved away, his grip on you tightened, and he pulled you back. You chuckled, pushing harder to escape, but he simply squeezed you tighter, essentially trapping you against him.
You sighed; you hadn’t wanted to wake him up yet. He’d barely slept for a few hours, but you needed water and to cool off.
“Toji,” you said, trying to shake him.
“Hmm?” He hummed groggily.
“I need you to let go of me, please,” you said gently.
“Don’t wanna,” he said.
“I’m melting, Toji,” you groaned, pushing against his arms with all the strength you could muster.
He laughed, releasing you after a couple of seconds of your floundering. He sat up and stretched, a satisfied yawn escaping his lips.
“How long did we sleep for?” He asked, looking around for his phone.
“It was probably nine when you got here, maybe 9:30 when we laid down? It’s just past two now.”
“Okay, I’m up. You hungry?”
“Toji, you should go back to sleep. Your body needs to catch up,” you said.
“Nah, my body needs a sandwich,” he argued, but he didn’t get up.
You sat in awkward silence as neither of you moved.
“You don’t expect me to actually make you a sandwich, right?” You asked, crossing your arms.
“No, but I think you would appreciate it if you left the bed first.”
“I would appreciate it if I got up first,” you repeated, not understanding his point.
He gave you a withering look, waiting for it to click.
You jolted, realization hitting like a bolt of lightning. “No! You’re not-” you were too mortified to continue.
“I am, so, skedaddle, I’ll be out in a minute.”
You nodded and hopped out of bed and skipped into the kitchen. Your face was hot with embarrassment, not at the fact that he was hard, but at the fact that you’d been so dense to not realize what he’d meant. You were really selling yourself as sexually competent.
You made yourself a tall glass of ice water and drank deeply, cooling your face and satiating your nap-induced dehydration. Once satisfied with that, you rooted around in the cabinets for bread and started assembling two sandwiches. Toji emerged from the room, wearing a fresh shirt and the same sweats as before, notably, with no visible bulge. He did have a huge shit-eating grin on his face, though.
“Look at you, getting all domestic and shit,” he teased, “All I had to do was pop a boner.”
“Yeah, don’t get used to it,” you said with a roll of your eyes, “I promise I’m not a complete idiot, I just wasn’t thinking. You want chips?”
“I know you’re not. Chips are good.” He braced his elbows against the breakfast bar, leaning forward with intrigue, and, though your back was to him, you knew his eyes were fixed on you.
You placed the top pieces of bread on both sandwiches and dumped some chips onto the plates, feeling slightly self-conscious as you did so. You took a moment to put the ingredients away before picking up the dishes and turning to face Toji.
You slid a plate over to him. He watched. The small kitchen felt extremely quiet; was it warm in here? You cleared your throat nervously.
“You need something to drink?” You asked, not sure what else to say.
He pulled out the barstool he stood next to and sat down, crossing his arms, still just looking at you.
“You’re allowed to breathe, you know,” he said, and you realized you were holding in a breath.
You blew it out slowly and leaned against the counter behind you, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to break whatever spell his eyes had you under. “I’m sorry, Toji, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
He picked up a chip and crunched it loudly, and you jumped, opening your eyes and glaring at him.
He sighed, as if you’d confirmed something he’d suspected. “Doll, are you scared of me?”
“What? No, at least, I don’t think so.” Your knee-jerk reaction was “of course not,” but you honestly hadn’t given yourself a real moment to consider this. You had asked yourself whether he was safe, but his being dangerous and you knowing it didn’t necessarily make you scared.
“It would make more sense if you were,” he pointed out, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite, “thanks for this, by the way,” he said through the mouthful.
“Don’t mention it,” you said, biting your lip. “I don’t think I’m scared of you, so much as I’m scared of what you can do, I guess?”
He cocked his head to the side, “Sorry, doll, I don’t get it,” he said, waiting for you to elaborate.
You took a bite of your own sandwich, trying to put your feelings into words as you chewed.
“Okay, it’s kind of like this, right? Imagine a police dog. The kind that attacks people and shit.”
He snorted, “Alright, a police dog.”
“In this scenario, I guess I’d be the police dog trainer or handler, whatever you call it, so let’s go with that. Now, as the owner of this dog, I am acutely aware that it is trained to, and does, bite people when it needs to, or is told to.”
“I am still not following,” he said, though he looked apologetic about it, at least.
“Look,” you said, exasperated, “I know this dog is dangerous, but I also know that it won’t do those things unless I tell it to, and, outside of work, the dog is normal. Maybe I like this dog, I let it sleep in my room, and play tug of war with it, and I teach it fun tricks, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know and respect that it is a tool, that it is also capable of doing things that scare me, whether or not I am the target of those things.”
He finished off his lunch with a massive bite, chewing thoughtfully as he analyzed this analogy.
“Okay,” he swallowed, “So, you’re not afraid of me, but you’re afraid that I could kill you if I wanted to?”
“That about sums it up,” you nodded, eating the rest of your sandwich in silence as he pondered.
“Well, if it makes you feel better, a lot of people could kill you if they wanted,” he said, breaking the silence.
You had just taken the final bite of your chips and nearly choked, “What?” You sputtered.
“I’m just saying that in the time you’ve known me, one person has come way closer to killing you than me. I’m not trying to make you paranoid, but anybody could kill you. The likelihood is very low, but not impossible.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t help at all, so thanks for that.”
He stood and picked up his plate, walking past you to place it in the dishwasher. He reached over to take yours, his arm brushing yours as he did. Your skin prickled with the contact, and he straightened, leaning against the counter a respectful distance away.
“I already told you that I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his gaze flitting over your face.
“I know, and I believe you. I don’t know why I believe you, but I do.”
“Maybe because it’s true?” He shrugged.
“Toji, I have… a lot of questions for you,” you said, not wanting to lose your nerve.
His expression turned guarded, “And what happens if you don’t like the answers?”
“I won’t turn you in if that’s what you’re asking. I looked you up on the internet before we went on our date, and I didn’t find anything criminal, so I imagine you’re good enough at your job to handle any evidence linking you to a crime. I bring that up because, although I doubt the cops could pin anything on you, I don’t want to see you and Megumi separated.
I can’t say that I agree with your career choice, and if I ever did get a whiff that you were going to try to make Megumi follow in your footsteps, we would have issues, but I think you’re a good dad, and he loves you.”
“I have no intention of ever ‘making’ Megumi do anything, especially not related to my job. If he ever picks up a gun, it’ll be because he asked me to teach him to shoot, and not because he has any intention to use it on anything aside from a target,” he said, his voice hard, “but, okay. Go ahead and ask your questions.”
“You know, I just realized that this was actually going to be Part Two of my favor,” you said with a laugh.
“What, quizzing me?”
“I was going to make you tell me what you do for a living,” you said, gesturing for him to follow you to the living room.
He did so, chuckling as he went, “Well, I wouldn’t have told you outright, but if you had guessed it, I wouldn't have denied it.”
“Good to know,” you said, plopping down on the couch and curling up into the cushions, “My first question is a heavy one, so, sorry in advance.”
“I’d rather do the tough ones first, so go for it,” he said, taking his own seat across from you.
You inhaled and exhaled, rallying your confidence. “How did your wife die?”
He froze; he clearly had not been expecting that. “Well, I didn’t kill her if that’s what you want to know. She had complications after delivering Megumi, and she just couldn’t pull through.” his tone was even, but his eyes betrayed the grief he felt when talking about her.
“I didn’t think you killed her, Toji,” you said softly, hating how hurt he looked, “Did she know? About the killing?”
His eyes had a faraway look in them as he replied, “She knew everything about me, some things I told her, and some things she just knew. Where do you think Megumi gets his brains from?”
“He is pretty sharp, I’ll admit. I’m sorry I brought it up; I just wanted to make sure that it wasn’t… related. I want to know that I’m safe from other people who might not like you so much.”
His eyes focused back to the present, “No, you’re safe with me. If someone knows I did something, it’s because they paid me to do it, and, usually, the way it works is they go through my handler to hire me, so they don’t know my name or face or anything about me. I don’t like to brag, but I’m considered the best in the business right now, so the chances of someone both wanting and being able to kill me as a way to tie up loose ends is also very unlikely.”
You blanched, digesting that information. “There’s more of you? And ‘best?’ Out of how many?”
He shot you a pitying look, “I don’t know the exact number, but I’ve worked jobs where at least three or four of us had to come together, and they all have their own contacts. I imagine it’s probably less than a hundred in the entire country, but I don’t have a way to confirm, and no, I’m not exaggerating when I say ‘best.’ I don’t miss,” he said, his eyes glinting with the promise.
“Huh,” you acknowledged with a shiver. “How much do you make doing this?”
“Depends on the job, but minimum for me is about 50k. The highest payout I’ve ever gotten was around a million? The exact number escapes me,” he said.
You looked around at the small apartment he resided in, incredulous. “Where do you keep it all? Surely not in a bank?”
“Yeah, no, I have an account for paying bills and stuff, plus a good amount of cash stashed in different places, but, uh… remember when I told you I like to gamble?”
“Toji, you can’t be serious,” you gawked.
“It’s not safe to keep it all, and buying houses or cars with cash draws attention. We get on just fine without fancy stuff. If I need to buy something big, I handle it, but otherwise,” he shrugged. “If I ever win on one of those horse races, I’m quitting, though.”
“You’re unbelievable,” you laughed, another question popping into your head, “earlier, you mentioned a handler. Is he like, your boss?”
It was Toji’s turn to laugh, “No, Shiu isn’t my boss. He’s the guy the clients reach out to, and he watches out for me in his own way. He facilitates my payouts; customers pay him via wire, check, or whatever, and he gets me the cash. He benefits from the whole arrangement because he gets a percentage of my fee for serving as the liaison, and I cover any charges he incurs for vetting customers with my paycheck. Shiu only gets paid if I get paid, so we have a vested interest in making sure that happens.”
“I see,” you said. “Have you ever killed someone without a payout?”
“Like, have I ever killed someone who wasn’t a target?”
“Yeah, I guess that’s what you would call them, huh. This is all feeling very John Wick.”
He snorted, “Yeah, except I’m the Baba Yaga, now. To answer your question, I have, and I hate to say it, but it comes with the job. Security guards and paramilitary, usually, but every now and then, some poor sap walks into something they shouldn’t have.”
“Hmm… do you like your job?”
“You want the honest answer, or the one that will help you sleep at night, princess?” He replied.
“Tell me the truth, please. That’s all I’m after.”
He adjusted his sitting position on the couch, pulling his legs up and sitting crisscross applesauce, then rotating to face you.
His expression was serious as he spoke, his eyes fixed on yours, “I do. The fact that I kill people, that sucks, but the action of doing it, I don’t have problems with. I like fighting – with guns, blades, even my fists. If I end up covered in blood, I probably had fun.”
You chewed your lip, glancing at his scarred knuckles. He was merely a foot away from you, admitting that he enjoyed killing living, breathing, human beings, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to be scared.
“What do you mean, killing ‘people’ sucks?”
“I mean that they all have their own lives, and families, and friends, people who love them. They have aspirations and dreams, and I don’t like that part of it, snuffing those little lights out. I don’t hate people; I just have a job to do.”
“An empathetic killer,” you murmured, “I really know how to pick ‘em.”
“Yep, that’s all you, doll.”
“How did you get into this line of work, anyway?”
“Why, you trying to get in?” He quipped, but you knew it to be a deflection.
You raised an eyebrow at him, and he dipped his head in concession.
“My dad. My whole family, actually, works in the business. They’re kind of like the mafia, the way they have all their eggs dispersed into different criminal baskets, and a lot of people working for them.
My dad was the second of three brothers, all vying for grandpa’s attention as the head of the family. They were all pretty equally successful, so my uncles and my dad believed that the old geezer would pick the son with the most successful children as his replacement.
My brother was favored over me, getting the training to be a business guy, negotiating, leveraging, making deals and trades, formal stuff. I wasn’t really good at the whole school thing, and my tutors kept telling Dad that I was useless, so he decided to teach me to be their guard dog instead.
I got the shit beat out of me more times than I can count. This scar,” he gestured to his face, indicating the one on his lip, “came from one of those times. And then, over the years, I got better at not getting beaten up. They used me when it benefited them and ignored me when it didn’t. When I got a little bigger and my grandfather died, things got worse. My father believed that his brother had been chosen over him because I wasn’t smart enough to be like my brother.
I got older, I bulked up, I left them. I met Megumi’s mom, I took her last name, I was out. We had a few good years, I worked on cars and she did clerical work, she got pregnant, had Megumi, and then she died. Her family didn’t like me much, and I had to fight them in court to keep my seven-week-old, which my paycheck at the auto-shop couldn’t contend with, so, to keep us afloat, I got back in, and now we’re here.”
Your head was spinning with all the details. “Holy shit, Toji, how are you not in a straitjacket right now?”
His expression was flat when he answered, “I probably would be if anyone could get me into one,” he admitted, then added, “Don’t pity me, please, I know I’ve had a shitty life, but I don’t need you to feel sorry for me. It won’t make it better.”
“I can’t help it, you’re just so tragic,” you teased, pitching your voice for extra drama.
“Don’t fucking start with that,” he laughed, “What else you got, sweetheart?”
You thought about it for a moment, “What is your favorite weapon?”
He looked at you like you had sprouted a unicorn horn, “What fucking planet are you from that lets you be so okay with all this?”
“I’m a Virgo? Just answer the question, dickhead,” you scoffed.
“Really? I’m a Capricorn,” he grinned, but seemed to think for a moment before deciding, “My favorite weapon is probably a glaive, but I never get to use one. They’re almost impossible to conceal, which is a big thing for me. I don’t know how much you know or care about guns, but my favorite practical weapon would have to be a Glock. Very versatile, powerful little thing.”
“Yeah, I know zilch about guns, sorry. Do you own a glaive?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Would you show it to me? Only if you want, of course.”
“Am I dreaming?” He pinched himself on the arm, “Did you take drugs while I was asleep? Are you real? I can’t comprehend how normal you’re being about this.”
You shrugged. “I can’t explain it either, but I promise I’m real, and I didn’t take anything. So, are you gonna show me whatever the hell a glaive is?”
He smirked and hopped off the couch, disappearing out of the room. You heard him moving things around for a minute or two before his footsteps headed back in your direction. He stood in the doorway with a long black case; one hand gripped on the handle.
“Let me show you outside, there’s barely room in here,” he said, grinning.
“Is that okay? You can just do that?”
“I’m not going to kill anyone with it, doll. It’s not been used outside of training, so to anyone else, I’ll just look like a ren fair nerd with martial arts training.”
You still didn’t look convinced.
He rolled his eyes. “If it makes you feel better, I will leave the guard on the blade.”
You considered this, then hopped up after him, “Okay!”
You followed him outside into the late summer afternoon, squinting against the brightness, as he walked around the building into a community courtyard where most tenants walked their dogs.
He set the case down on the ground and flipped the latches, opening it with a reverence you hadn’t seen him exude before.
The weapon was essentially a long stick with a sword on the end, but even your untrained eye could see that the craftsmanship of this particular glaive was exceptional. The wood appeared to be very high quality, stained and polished beautifully in a deep red color; the blade itself was, as promised, tucked behind a black leather guard that snapped together with shiny brass buttons.
Toji picked up the weapon and walked several feet back, testing the weight of it with a few half spins.
“So, what’s the practical application of this thing?” You asked. Looking at it, it seemed too cumbersome to be useful, but what did you know?
“These are battlefield weapons, useful for taking out multiple enemies at once and piercing through armor. Back in ancient times, they were also used to knock riders off of horses,” he explained, “You ready?”
You nodded, though you didn’t know what you were agreeing to.
He smirked, and his whole body went still for a moment. You were surprised when he started to maneuver the blade, spinning it hand over hand in front of him, over his head, and behind.
You watched as a calm fell over him, the movement of his body and the weapon becoming one unstoppable thing as he practiced a few thrusts and swipes. You watched his muscles flex beneath his shirt as he moved, and you were mesmerized by him, the same way you were fascinated when you watched Suguru mix drinks at the bar. Toji was completely in his element, the glaive a reflection of the years of effort he had put into training.
You understood in that moment how easily he could kill you, and you realized that it didn’t matter. If he wanted to kill you, he would have done it already, and the same gut feeling that told you he wasn’t lying about any of this told you that he wouldn’t ever hurt you. Physically, at least, you weren’t sure about emotionally.
A final strike into the air and Toji froze again, holding the blade in the air. His breathing was a little faster than normal but, other than that, he didn’t seem winded at all.
The calm that had taken hold of him melted away as his posture returned to normal, and he lowered the glaive. He glanced back at you, exhilarated, but with mild concern in his eyes as he strolled back to you, the glaive resting on his shoulder.
“You scared yet?”
You shook your head, “I think I must have been dropped on my head as a baby because that was incredible.”
He laughed, shaking his head as he put the polearm back into its case and closed it up.
“That is the only thing you’ve said today that makes sense,” he said. “Smoke?” he offered, pulling his pack and lighter from his pocket.
“If I can have one of yours, mine are inside,” you replied.
“I don’t mind sharing,” he said, picking up the case and walking alongside you to the front of the building.
The pair of you sat on the curb outside Toji’s apartment, smoking in silence for a time. His phone started to buzz, and he groaned, answering it with a look at you that said, “Shoot me.”
You covered your giggle with your hand as he lifted the phone to his ear.
“What do you want?”
A male voice came through the speaker, but you couldn’t make out what he said.
Toji blew out a puff of smoke as he listened, nodding thoughtfully.
“Shiu, I’ve gotta pick up my kid from school in, like, thirty minutes, I can’t meet you now. I decided that I’m taking you up on your advice after I collect, though.”
So, this was Shiu, Toji’s handler, you noted. There was more talking that you couldn’t hear. A pause.
“That’s her,” your ears perked up. “Yeah, she figured it out.” Talking about you, you gathered?
“WHAT?” The voice exclaimed, devolving into cackling just loud enough for you to hear before returning to normal volume, though he sounded more excited than before.
“Yeah, yeah, shut up. No, I-” Toji rolled his eyes, “You are insufferable.”
He turned to you, moving the phone away from his mouth, but still within talking distance, “He said that he won’t pay me if I don’t let him talk to you.”
You blinked, “O-okay, hello?” You said, taking the phone and putting it to your ear.
“Don’t put me on speaker! I need you to hear this without Toji interrupting.”
“Nice to meet you, too, Shiu.” Toji watched with suspicious eyes, finishing his cigarette and waiting.
“Ah, so he mentioned me, huh? Well, he hasn’t told me anything, but I am a dealer of information, so I know things, and I think that Toji is,” he lowered his voice, “ ’Down bad,’ if I might borrow the youthful slang.”
“Okay, why are you telling me this?” Though you did get immense satisfaction from hearing it.
“Because he’s been grumpy as hell since the last time you two hung out, so I wanted to tell you, especially now that you’re in the know, that he’s a big softie at heart. He acts tough and all, but he really is sensitive. I think a girlfriend would be great for him, so, just know that if he pisses you off, I will be in your corner, not his.”
“What, you’re just looking out for me?”
“And for me. I can’t have him getting himself killed because he’s depressed. But also, for you.”
“Huh. Good to know, Shiu. I’ll be sure to remember this conversation,” you said, passing the phone back to Toji.
“Asshole,” Toji said into the speaker before hanging up.
You chuckled, “He didn’t seem so bad.”
“You would say that; you’ve never met the guy,” he grunted, “anyway, you coming with me to get the brat or no?”
“I’d love to, Toji, if that’s not an intrusion.”
“Not at all. Is your offer still open for those movie tickets? He hasn’t been to the theater in a while.”
You beamed, “I’d also love that. There are a few good family-friendly ones playing now, I’d just have to check the schedule for showtimes.”
He nodded, standing up from the curb and offering you a hand.
and make sure your comments are kind!!! “I love this so much!” and “this is amazing! I’m so excited for what happens next” are more likely to get your favorite fics updated than “when will we get the next chapter?”
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"Second-Hand Smoke" Hitman! Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader PART 2
Summary: Where will the rest of the night take you and Toji? Keep reading to find out ;)
Notes: This is the big one - the spicy chapter! Reader discretion is advised - there is also gun violence, so please be aware of that and read at your own risk.
I forgot to get a word count, but I think this is roughly 5-6k?
Warnings: MORE Smoking, depiction of guns, gun violence, mentions of homelessness, implied use of drugs, nipple sucking, dry humping
You decided that Newport’s tasted better than they smelled but you still preferred a Marlboro in terms of menthols, as Toji navigated to a nearby 7-11.
“Did you at least have a little fun dancing?” You asked, flicking the last of your cigarette out and turning in your seat to face him.
“No, but I didn’t mind watching you,” he said with a lazy grin that betrayed more than a little bit of his intention.
You hadn’t decided if you wanted to sleep with him or not – part of you was afraid that he’d ghost you afterwards or think you a slut, but another part of you would like to know if either of those were true so you could stop wasting your time. You knew it was taboo, but you felt like this date had gone exceedingly well, if he was dtf then you were not the kind of girl to turn him down just out of propriety.
“I’ll make a dancer of you yet, Toji,” you said, and he chuckled.
Neither of you said anything for a moment, the road and the radio the only sound as Toji turned into the gas station and drove up next to a pump. He put the car in park and cut the engine, the two of you sitting in charged silence, the absence of noise very loud in your ears.
“How late do you have your sitter for?” You asked carefully.
His lips twitched, “I paid her for five hours, but she’s my niece, I could ask her to stay overnight if you want. The kid wouldn’t mind; I think he likes her more than me.”
You bit your lip, “would you be interested in that?”
He smirked, “Hell yeah, I’ll give her a call and let her know. You need anything from inside?”
“Can I get a Dr. Pepper?”
He nodded and jogged inside. You unbuckled your seatbelt and leaned back in your seat as you watched him until he was out of sight. After a few seconds you pulled out your phone, scrolling Instagram for memes, when a text notification appeared and you smiled to yourself as you tapped to reply to it.
| Toji F: u eat candy?
| You: Swedish fish!
| Toji F: lol ok, wax eater
| You: What can I say, I love red 40
You took the moment to send him your Spotify playlist, simply titled “Cuntry Music” along with the message “While I’m thinking about it.” He reacted with a thumbs-up.
You were still smiling to yourself when you heard a tap, tap, tap on the window. You made the mistake of looking up, locking eyes with an undoubtedly homeless looking man. He had stringy, uncut, greasy hair and he wore a green T-shirt smeared with brown stains and peppered with holes. His jeans were in equally bad shape, and he was shifting from foot to foot nervously, a sheen of sweat dripping from his pale forehead. Your brain was screaming “unsafe, unsafe, unsafe!”
Ice went shooting through your veins as you fumbled for the lock button on the car, not caring how rude that was. You glanced at the store, but Toji was still out of sight. You managed to press the switch with a satisfying thunk as the locks fell into place and your heartbeat slowed a tiny bit, feeling marginally safer.
The creepy guy tapped on the window again, “hey, can I please just have a dollar? I really need a dollar, just one! It’s so hot out, man, I need a drink,” he croaked, his voice muffled through the window, scratchy and whiny.
“Look, man, I don’t have a dollar, okay? I can’t help you,” you said, trying very hard to keep your voice steady.
“C’mooon, you’ve gotta have something! I’m just asking for one dollar!” He shouted, he brought his hands up to his hair and started pulling the locks with frightening obsession, his agitation rising visibly. You looked at the door again, willing Toji to appear.
“I’m sorry, I don’t have anything! Back the fuck up, dude,” you said, your pulse pounding in your ears, you felt like throwing up, you could hardly breathe as panic threatened to overwhelm you.
“You’re sorry? Oh, you’re sorry?! Broke ass bitch, doesn’t have a dollar to spare? I’ll give you something to be sorry about, cunt!” His hands dove for his pants, and you realized with abject horror that he had pulled a tiny revolver from his waistband, black gunmetal glinting menacingly in the glaring fluorescence of the gas station.
With unsteady arms he leveled the little gun at you, hands shaking as his thumb rested on the hammer, ready to pull it back. You were frozen, paralyzed with fear, you couldn’t even open your mouth to beg for your life.
“Why’d you make me do this? He told me you wouldn’t make me do this,” the man whined, swaying slightly.
You could only whimper in response, your jaw locked shut. He pressed the barrel of the gun against the glass of the window.
The man clicked the hammer back, painfully slow, and with a jolt of determination you found that your muscles were responding to you again, adrenaline coursing through your veins.
I’m not going to die like this, you thought, not daring to look away from him as you formulated your plan. You knew you would have only seconds before he fired, and you were not going to wait for that to happen.
In one motion, you raised your arms in front of your face, using your legs to propel you sideways, throwing your body over the center console and into the driver's seat, laying your shoulder on the horn, which blared out into the quiet night. You prayed that the sound wouldn’t be ignored.
Your assailant jumped at the sudden noise, the gun firing into the air, and you shrieked, one of the lights above you shattering, glass spilling down onto the roof of the car.
In a blur that moved inhumanly fast, A massive man appeared in your view, swinging his fist directly into the cheekbone of the man, who crumpled to the ground on impact.
Toji, you breathed a sigh of relief that quickly turned into a body wracking sob.
You couldn’t see exactly what happened next as the man was on the ground which wasn’t visible through the car window, but you knew it was violent, as you could hear the grunts of the man on the ground. You watched as Toji stood up straight, coming back into your view. He had managed to take control of the revolver; he opened the cylinder and let all the rounds fall to the ground with practiced precision. He tossed the gun into the trash can behind him. His posture was relaxed, his face betraying no fear.
He picked the man up by his throat, lifting him into the air with one hand. The man squirmed, fighting against Toji uselessly, his hands scrabbling at Toji’s to no avail. Toji said something into the man’s ear that made him stop struggling and start trembling, nodding furiously, his face turning red due to lack of oxygen.
Toji tossed your attacker back to the ground like he was a sack of potatoes, “Now get out of my sight before I fucking kill you,” he spat.
The man clambered to his feet and sprinted away into the night.
Toji rushed over to your side of the car, opening the car door and scooping you into his arms. He held you there as you shook, your whole body melting into his as tears streamed from your eyes. You choked on your sobs, your fingers finding purchase and clenching around his shirt.
“Hey! Babygirl, you’re okay,” Toji murmured, holding you to him tightly.
You burrowed your face into his chest as you cried, willing your body to calm down as you began to shake violently.
“You’re okay,” he repeated softly, rocking you gently and patting your head.
You weren’t sure how many minutes passed before you felt okay enough to talk.
“Toji?” You croaked, looking up at him. His eyebrows were furrowed with concern, his dark eyes focused on your face.
“Yeah?”
“I feel like throwing up,” you groaned, stomach roiling and flipping aggressively.
Your vision tilted as he rotated you slightly so that your puke landed on the ground and not on him. Bile burned in your mouth as you spewed the meager contents of your stomach onto the asphalt.
“Do you want me to call you an ambulance?” He asked, rubbing soothing circles on your back.
You shook your head, “you think I can afford that? No thanks.”
“How about the cops?”
“Fuck the cops,” you snorted, wiping spittle from your mouth.
“That’s my girl,” he chuckled. “Are you done puking? Do you need some water?”
“I’m done. Stop mothering me,” you tried to wave him off, but he ignored you, shifting you back into a sitting position on his lap as he leaned against the side of the car.
“I’ve got a question,” you murmured.
“Shoot,” he said, glancing down at you.
“Are your eyes green or hazel?” You asked, unable to think about anything else as you stared into them.
“Doll, you’re in shock and you’re asking me about my eye color?”
“Just tell me, dammit,” you whispered with a shudder.
“They’re green. I can show you my driver’s license if you want confirmation,” he conceded.
“No, that’s okay. I thought so,” you murmured.
He nodded running his fingers soothingly through your hair. A few more minutes passed and you took a deep, shaky breath in.
“I think I’m okay now,” you said, testing your resolve as you tried to sit up, but Toji held you back.
“Let me put you in the car, please. Don’t try to walk.”
“Okay. Only because you said ‘please’ though,” you said with a weak smile.
He stood up and carried you to the passenger side of the car, managing to set you down and buckle you in with no fuss.
“I’m sorry sweetheart, but you’ve gotta let go of me,” he said softly, his large hands swallowing yours up as he gingerly pried your fingers from his shirt.
You loosened your grip reluctantly, “sorry, I’ve never been in shock before.”
“Yeah, pretty shitty, huh? I’ve still gotta fuel up, baby. I’ll be just on the other side of the car; it’ll only take a second.”
“I’ll be okay, I’m a big girl,” you said, but you felt the blood drain from your face as you agreed.
He didn’t look convinced, but he closed the car door softly and walked around. He set the pump to fill, then sat in the driver’s seat until it was done, eyes flitting over you with concern. When the pump stopped fueling he finished the transaction quickly and returned to his seat, starting the car and beginning the short drive back to your apartment complex.
“I’m sorry about your shirt,” you said. His black tee was smeared with your make-up, your powder foundation and glitter from your highlighter and eyeshadow had left a distinctly face-shaped stain on his chest.
“It’ll wash out,” he said, rolling his eyes, “you should be sorry about your face.”
“Oh, I’ll make sure to put on more setting spray from now on so that the next time someone pulls a gun on me my face will stay perfectly painted.”
He stiffened, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel, his lips forming a tight line, broken only by the scar that struck across his lips. You wondered briefly how it came to be there but pushed the thought from your mind. You were tired of violence for the night.
“It never should’ve happened,” he growled, eyes dark and dangerous.
“It’s not your fault, Toji. You couldn’t have known that weirdo was gonna be there, much less that he was gonna target me.”
He grunted in response then jolted, as if he’d suddenly realized something he’d forgotten.
“I just remembered, here you go.” He grabbed something from the floorboard and tossed it to you.
It was a bag from the convenience store containing a bag of Swedish Fish and a bottled Dr. Pepper, alongside a stack of four scratch off tickets.
Your heart swelled and you beamed at him, “oh my god, I could kiss you right now,” you breathed, ripping into the candy and eating a handful with childlike delight, “can I scratch one of these tickets?”
“Go for it, hopefully you’re luckier than me. Do two of ‘em,” he replied, supplying a quarter from some compartment or pocket and pressing it into your hand.
Electricity shot through you as your fingers brushed his. You decided in that moment that you were not going to let a pesky attempted armed robbery ruin your night.
Your scratch-off’s won exactly no money, and you pouted about it until you arrived at your apartment and Toji scratched his tickets as well.
“I don’t know why I waste my time on these damned things,” he said with a sigh, dropping the losing cards into the floorboards.
You shrugged and reached across the car to grab his wrist before he could open the car door. He turned to look at you expectantly.
“Toji.” You said plainly, though your heart was racing again.
“Yes?” He responded quizzically.
“Are you staying over with me tonight?"
“If you want me to, I will, doll, but I need you to think with your head: are you sure that’s what you want?”
You swallowed hard, considering, then nodded at him.
“Okay, then I’ll stay. Let me get your door,” he said, pulling away from you to meet you on your side of the car.
He led you to your front door, where you fumbled with your keys before managing to push the door open. The comforting living room greeted you like a soft blanket and a warm hug.
“I think I’m going to rip a few cigs and then take a shower,” you said. It would be your second wash today, but you felt disgusting after the events of the evening.
“Do you need my help?” Toji asked as he closed and locked the front door behind him. He was grinning as though making a joke, but the rest of his expression was serious in a way that you knew he would help if you asked. You weren’t sure if that was reassuring or not at this moment.
“I’ll manage. If you wanted to run to your place and get clothes for the night, I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay alone for a short time.”
He nodded, “Alright. Do you want me to wait outside with you?”
You thought about it for a moment, ultimately deciding that you could smoke a cigarette without his supervision.
“Nah, I’ll be alright. Go get yourself some comfy clothes, Toji.”
“Okay. Text me if you need anything,” he said, and he slipped out the door quickly and quietly.
You stepped out onto your balcony and sucked down two cigarettes in a row, feeling more like yourself before heading off to take a scalding shower.
You glanced into the mirror as the water heated up. Your mascara had smeared down your eyes, which were puffy and swollen from crying, and your cheeks were red and blotchy.
God, I look a mess, you sighed, snagging a makeup wipe and swiping it across your face.
You stepped into the steaming shower and exfoliated your entire body with force, the rough sponge stinging your skin as you scraped, trying to distract from the crushing weight of how closely you’d come to death.
Once your flesh was rubbed raw, you stood under the water and let it rush over you for a few minutes before shutting it off and toweling dry.
You had just finished applying your skin care routine when you heard your front door open.
“It’s me, don’t freak out,” Toji called from the living room.
You rushed to slather your legs with lotion before yelling back to him, “I’m coming out! Don’t look at me, I only have a towel on.”
“No promises,” he said, but you were certain that he wasn’t looking, though you didn’t know why you trusted him so much.
You scampered into your bedroom and put on your comfiest pajamas, letting your hair down from its bun.
“I’m decent, you can look now,” you chirped, walking down the hallway and stopping short when you saw Toji.
He was lounging on your couch, which you hadn’t ever considered to be small before but the way he dwarfed it made you reconsider, and watching something on his phone with the volume turned up in the most “dad” sort of way you could’ve imagined. He wore yet another plain black T-shirt, grey sweatpants, and socks with sandals.
“You dare disgrace my household with your damn socks and slides right now?”
“I see you’re feeling better, smartass,” he chuckled, clicking the phone off and setting it on your coffee table.
“This is the first time I’ve seen you actually look like a dad,” you said, plopping down next to him.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m old,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
“Do you have an Instagram? I want to know what kind of memes you like,” you asked, genuinely curious.
“No, but I’ve got a TikTok,” he said.
“No way! You’ve gotta add me,” you demanded, pulling your own phone out.
“I hardly ever use it, my nieces send me stuff sometimes, but that’s about it,” he sighed, picking his phone back up and navigating to the app.
His username consisted of a bunch of random letters and numbers, and he had no personal information tied to it, which explained why it hadn’t come up in your earlier Google search.
“What’s your 'For You' page look like, Toji?”
“You’re not going to like it,” he warned, humor glittering in his eyes.
“Why’s that?”
“It’s mostly sports and horse racing, but there’s a good chance some busty chick will pop up if I scroll a while,” he smirked, his scar flexing with the movement.
“Ugh, you’re gross,” you laughed, smacking his arm lightly, “my TikTok is pretty much all funny animals and food, but I get a good number of memes.”
“I’m a simple man,” he said, leaning back into the couch cushions, stretching his arm above his head, and letting it settle across your shoulders.
You couldn’t stifle your laugh, and he side-eyed you.
“What?” He asked, grinning.
“I can’t believe you just stretched and cuddled me.”
“I’ll stop if you want me to,” he said, raising an eyebrow at you.
You snuggled yourself into him, breathing in the scent of his cologne, “I think this is alright.”
He squeezed you lightly, resting his head on the back of the couch and closing his eyes.
“Hey, don’t fall asleep, I’ve got something to tell you,” you said, though your own eyelids were starting to get heavy.
He cracked one green eye open and met your gaze.
“I never said thanks. After… everything,” you said softly.
“No need, doll. All I did was punch a guy.”
“Not true. You also disarmed him and made him go away. Then you helped me when I was petrified. I think you deserve a thank you. If not for that, at least for the candy and soda.”
“Well, you’re welcome, I guess. You handled yourself really well out there, though. That was quick thinking.”
You scoffed, “I almost pissed my pants.”
“But you didn’t,” he said flatly.
“Yeah, yeah, you risked your life for mine, and somehow I’m the impressive one,” you quipped.
“Psh, I was never in any danger. Guy was focused on you and tweaking so hard he never saw me coming.”
“So humble,” you said.
“What time is it?” Toji asked, changing the subject.
“Just past three a.m.,” you supplied.
“You working tomorrow?”
“I’m off, first time in a while. I’m supposed to go run errands and be responsible, but I think I’m just going to stay home and be a lazy bitch. You?”
“I’m not working either, but I’ve gotta take the brat to school in the morning.”
“Hmm,” you hummed thoughtfully, “I hate to be blunt, Toji, but I want to make sure we’re on the same page about something.”
He lifted his head from the cushions of the couch, a self-satisfied smile quirking his lips.
You met his eyes. “Are we fucking tonight or what?”
He laughed, a big, hearty laugh that surprised you with its richness, and cocked his head towards you, those green eyes sparkling with an almost predatory glint.
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to,” he shrugged.
You didn’t wait for further confirmation, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth, right over his scar.
Heat rushed through your core as he slid his hands to your hips and grasped firmly, his large hands pressing into you as he pulled you closer to him. He turned his head to catch your lips in a true kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before his tongue slid between them, dragging along the roof of your mouth with languid ease.
Your body was on fire, and you were desperate to start ripping clothes off, but you also didn’t want to come off like a horny teen who couldn’t indulge in a little foreplay.
Maybe I was right about him being a sex worker, you mused, a really good one.
It could’ve been a side effect of almost meeting an untimely death not even an hour earlier, but you’d never had a guy turn you on this much, this fast, much less on a first date.
You tilted your head back, breaking the kiss but exposing your neck, an invitation. He obliged, trailing kisses down your jaw and then to your throat, his hot breath tickling your skin. He slid one hand from your waist up your body to your shoulder, gently pushing you down until you were horizontal atop the cushions.
“Toji,” you gasped as he straddled you and leaned down, sinking his teeth into your neck, just below your ear and near your pulse point.
“Hmm,” he replied, his fingers drawing lazy shapes on your shoulder.
“You wanna move to the bedroom? You barely fit on this couch,” you whispered into his ear.
“Show me the way, doll,” he said, standing smoothly and helping you up.
You led him down the hall and into your room, his hands never leaving your body. You hadn’t left any lights on, and your curtains were blacked out, so the room was pitch black, save for the slim light spilling in from the hall when you walked in.
You turned towards Toji, finding the hem of his shirt with your hands as he closed the door behind you, plunging you into total darkness. You tugged it up, Toji complying with your demand and pulling the shirt the rest of the way off, the scent of his cologne hitting your nose, subtler and more mellow now than it had been when you’d first greeted him at your front door.
“Fuck,” you breathed, your hands tracing the hard edges of his muscles, starting low and working your way up, heat rolling off of him in waves.
Your fingers caught on what you thought could’ve been a mole or a birthmark on his otherwise smooth skin, nestled between his ribs, about the size of a nickel in diameter. You ran your fingers over it, identifying a sort of ridge – the skin was soft, but texturally different than the rest of him. Maybe a scar?
His hand came up to meet yours, calmly moving you away from the spot and towards the center of his muscular chest. You complied, letting your pointer finger trace little hearts on his collarbone.
You used your other hand to slip your shirt off and toss it onto the floor.
His mouth claimed yours again, and he pushed you softly towards the bed, letting his hands drop yours and land hot and needy on your breasts.
The back of your legs struck the mattress. You slid onto the bed, Toji chasing your mouth with his until he was on top of you again, his callused thumbs rubbing over your nipples with delicious friction.
You leaned back into the pillows, letting him explore the contours of your chest as you brought your hands to his back, arching your back to brush against his cock through your pants.
He pressed himself against you, his hips weighing heavily on yours as he broke away from your lips and brushed his teeth against your nearly overworked nipple, a small squeak emitting from your throat involuntarily.
“Sorry, doll, you just smell like a goddamn cookie,” he murmured against your skin, his rumbling voice vibrating against you, “I just wanna take a bite of you.”
You let out a small laugh as a fresh wave of arousal went barreling through you. You slid your hands up to his hair, a few more of those textured marks on his skin snagging your attention as you did so, but not enough for you to comment about it. You let your fingers weave through his soft hair, pulling gently on his scalp.
He sucked in a breath and almost imperceptibly pulled his head away from your hands, strengthening your pull against his hair with a very quiet, very low groan. He swiped his tongue against your nipple before taking the soft bud into his mouth, applying suction that had you thrusting your hips into his again, devouring the contact of your clit against his erection, even through the several layers of clothes that separated you.
He played with your nipple in his mouth, swirling it around with his tongue as he let one hand trail down to your waistband, tantalizingly slow, his fingers leaving a trail of sparks behind them.
“Pants,” you gasped, not wanting to take your fingers from his hair.
“Someone’s needy,” he chuckled, giving your nipple a brief respite, but, with a deftness that only further solidified your sex work theory, he hooked your elastic waistband with two fingers and expertly pulled your pants down to below your knees, realizing with extreme satisfaction that you hadn’t put on any underwear.
“Don’t tell me you did that for me,” he said, his thumb drawing a line up your thigh, then brushing the sensitive skin over your hip bone.
“I hardly ever wear underwear to bed, so, no, you’re not special,” you said breathlessly.
“I’m not special? Does that mean that every guy you bring home has you quivering before his dick is even out?” he said, his eyes bright with the challenge.
“No,” you admitted, “in fact, I might go out on a limb and say that this is the wettest I’ve ever been,” you had intended the words to sound witty, but they came out husky and needy, his lips quirking with satisfaction.
“That’s because you’re easy,” he said, his smirk widening.
“You’re an ass,” you huffed, smiling despite yourself.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said dismissively, slowly sliding his fingers closer to your entrance.
“Wait,” you said, sudden anxiety building in your chest.
He froze, his eyebrows raising in confusion, “What, you changed your mind?”
“No,” you said, hesitating briefly, “I’m afraid you’ll think less of me,” you admitted.
He snorted, “For what? I’m not judging you for this, if that’s what you mean,” he gestured to your naked body beneath him. “We’re consenting adults. I don’t care that this is our first date. I’ve had more one-night stands than you probably care to know about, and I don’t think less of any of those girls. We’re just people. We have needs.”
That stopped you short, “Is that what this is? A one-night stand?”
He groaned, rolling off of you and flopping onto the bed next to you, “Fuck did you have to go and ask that for?”
“Toji, don’t do that. I’m serious,” you said, frustration leaking into your tone.
“What, you thought we were going to spend the rest of our lives together?” He drawled, which felt about as good as a gunshot to the chest would have.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Am I so crazy to think that we had a good time, and we clearly have chemistry, so we might want to hang out again? If I recall, you already invited me on another date, unless that was just you trying to get in my pants,” you huffed, pointedly pulling yours back up over your hips.
“The fuck is wrong with me?” He scoffed, “You got held at gunpoint barely more than an hour ago, and now we’re here. I’m pretty sure this is your way of dealing with that, nothing more. Any 'chemistry' we have is because you survived a near-death experience. It’s not my fault you had to go and attach feelings to it all.”
“Who said anything about feelings?”
“Do you really want me to answer that question?”
“You really are an ass, you know that?”
“You want me to leave, I’m gone,” he said, his tone flat.
“If I ask you to go, will I ever hear from you again?” You asked quietly.
He shrugged, “Maybe. Probably not.” You weren’t sure what you expected his reaction to be, but it certainly wasn’t that.
“… and if I ask you to stay?”
He turned on his side to face you, even though you couldn’t really see him in the darkness of the room. There was a pause before he replied, the air between you heavy with tension.
“Doll, I don’t want to get your hopes up,” he said softly, gently, the way he’d treated you all night, though it sounded pained.
You felt tears prick in your eyes unexpectedly at the admission.
“Well,” you choked out, “I’m glad we had this talk, then. Thanks for wasting my time, Toji. Have a nice life,” you pushed him, hard.
He barely moved, “Come on, don’t do that,” he brought his thumb to your cheek to wipe your tears away, “you had to know this was coming; you’re smarter than this,” he said. You smacked his hand away.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” you spat. “The messed-up part is that I didn’t know. Apparently, I’m not as smart as you think I am. Get out.”
You felt the bed shift with his weight as he did, then heard him search the floor for his discarded shirt and put it back on.
He stopped at the door for a second, hesitating before he opened it.
“It’s not your fault, doll. I’ve… I’m working through some shit.”
“I don’t want to hear it, Toji,” you barked, “please, just go,” you added, tossing a pillow at him,
You heard a soft thud, followed shortly by another. You hoped that meant you had hit him, not the wall.
He silently slipped out of the room. You didn’t watch him go, but you heard the front door open and close only seconds later.
What the fuck? Your head was spinning – literally, what had just happened?
You had thought things were going well, apart from the whole gas station thing. Could it be that you were just reacting to nearly dying? You tried to dissect all your feelings about it and concluded that no, you weren’t merely being destructive as a reaction to the trauma, but you had decidedly come to like Toji. You weren’t crazy enough to call it anything like love, you barely knew the guy, but you found him attractive and funny, in the same sardonic kind of way that you were, anyway. He was just fun, you realized. You liked sharing your interests with him and learning about his. If that wasn’t the start of something romantic, then what the hell was?
You grumbled with frustration, climbing under your covers and burying your head under a pillow, falling into a fitful sleep.
"Second-Hand Smoke" Hitman! Toji Fushiguro X Fem Reader PART 1
Summary: You’re just a regular girl from Texas living in a crappy apartment where your only respite from inconsiderate neighbors who have no respect for personal property is your nicotine addiction. One hot summer night, you meet a mysterious stranger who both intrigues and sort of frightens you, but for some reason, you just can’t stay away.
City boy Toji Fushiguro is a lot of things: a single dad, a widower, a gym buff, but most importantly, he is a highly trained hit man. He swore that he’d never go back to killing when he married his wife, but after she passed away he had to start doing jobs again to support his family; when you came along he wasn’t sure if you were crazy or just plain stupid – danger followed him everywhere, yet you were seemingly unfazed, in fact, enthusiastic to throw yourself into his life and imminent doom.
Notes: I’m sorry for the shameless Texas plug. I’m writing this while in the middle of moving all the way to Washington state for my husband’s job, and I have been feeling homesick for my home state. Hopefully it’s not overly distracting from the fic – I tried to keep it as real as I could, but who can resist Toji in western wear? Please let me know what you think, it’s my first JJK work so far!
8k words
Warnings: There is like. A lot of smoking in this. Packs of cigarettes consumed. Drinking, swearing, suggestive themes.
Humidity tickled your skin, hot summer air weighing heavily on you despite it being the middle of the night. You lived too close to the city for there to be many stars in the sky, the light pollution blotting them all out, but you could hear the incessant humming of cicadas faintly, even at this late hour. Sweat dripped down your back, your thin tank top and shorts barely keeping you cool at all.
Man, I just showered, too, you thought, grimacing.
You leaned against the side of your apartment building’s communal laundry room, looking out at the barely illuminated parking lot, smoking your second-to-last cigarette, and scrolling on your phone without really looking at it, hoping that the nicotine would calm your nerves. You didn’t like waiting outside; admittedly, you didn’t live in the nicest part of town, and being a girl all alone in the middle of the night didn’t sit well with you, but you were frustrated that the single working dryer at this complex was being domineered by someone with no manners.
The whole reason for waiting in the first place was to catch the asshole that kept taking your laundry out of the dryer before it was done. It seemed ridiculous, your job kept you out past midnight, so you often did your laundry in the wee hours of the morning before the sun was up, and yet, when you came back down the stairs to check on them, your clothes were always piled on top of one of the several broken dryers, while some dickhead that couldn’t wait twenty measly minutes threw his stuff in early. Your clothes were damp and sometimes smelly as a result of sitting in a crumpled pile while still wet, and you were tired of it, so you were waiting them out this time. At least, attempting to, you were exhausted from work and the heat, your feet were killing you, and you just wanted to fall into bed, but your last straw would be coming back after a nap and your clothes being wet for the umpteenth time.
You would’ve waited inside where there was seating, but the laundry room wasn’t air conditioned, and while the machines were going it was even more stifling inside than outside. Besides, you weren’t one to waste an opportunity to smoke outside a public building, like God intended.
Time passed with the urgency of a slug, the sounds of passing cars, distant sirens, and your neighbors having a late-night argument on their balcony floating to your ears as you waited. You finished your cigarette and considered lighting the last one right away, but you had a decent amount of self-control and exercised restraint. You sighed, leaning your head back and closing your eyes.
Your mind wandered to other chores you needed to complete, dishes, oil change for your truck, a grocery list, how long has it been since you vacuumed the rug?
You rubbed your temples. Damn, I really need a day off, you thought.
“Hey, can I bum a cig off you?” You nearly jumped out of your skin as a male voice broke through the quiet that surrounded you.
A tall, broad-shouldered man had approached you, he was carrying a laundry basket, but you still hadn’t heard him approach.
“Holy shit, dude, you scared me! Let me have a puff and I’ll share, it’s my last one,” you said, pulling the pack out and passing him your final cig and holding out your lighter.
He smirked, taking it and leaning forward as it dangled from his lips, “thanks, doll,” he said, his voice low and rich.
His drawl drew your attention, and you blinked as you lit his cigarette for him and realized that this guy was exactly your type: edgy, older, a certain rough-around-the-edges kind of handsome. He looked to be about 30, with shaggy black hair that hung just to his brows, striking eyes that you would have placed as green, but they could’ve been hazel, and a scar that ran vertically across the corner of his mouth. He wore a black T-shirt, black basketball shorts that went below his knees, and black slip-on vans. Also, notably, he was fucking shredded, you could tell by the way his shirt clung to him, and his arms rippled with corded muscles.
He took a big drag and held it for a second before exhaling, “damn, that’s good stuff,” he sighed, smoke curling in the air as he did so, “what brand are these?”
He passed the cigarette back to you, and you realized that you probably ought to keep your wits about you. After all, this man is a stranger, a beefy one, at that.
You put your mental guard up as you took the cigarette from him and breathed in your own cloud of cancer flavored air. “They’re Marlboro’s, Special Select. I like ‘em,” you said, breathing the smoke out through your nose and passing it back to him.
“Huh, never would’ve guessed. You waiting on your laundry?” He asked, innocently enough.
“Isn’t that kinda obvious?” You said with a sly grin.
He shrugged, taking another long drag, “fuck if I know, I’m just makin’ conversation.”
“I’ve only got a few minutes left on the dryer; it’s just so fucking hot in there I had to come outside. You do your laundry this late all the time?”
He shrugged again, “occasionally. My work keeps me up late sometimes and it can get, uh, well, messy, I guess.”
Your eyes narrowed in the stranger’s direction, could he be the one responsible for your wet clothes?
“Yeah, my work keeps me up late too. Anytime I’ve gotta do laundry I’m here at night.”
His next pull on the cigarette burnt it nearly to the filter, and he tapped the ashes off and smushed the butt into the ground with his shoe.
His jaw ticked as though he had something to say, but stopped himself, and you could see the doubt in his eyes. You ignored it, refusing to fill the silence.
“Thanks for the cigarette, sweetheart. I needed that. Name’s Toji,” he held out a hand for you to shake. You did.
“Nice to meet you, neighbor.”
He waved two fingers in a half-hearted salute, picking up his laundry basket and ducking into the building to start the washing machine.
You followed him into the sweltering room, noting with satisfaction that your clothes had made it through their drying cycle without incident. You piled everything into your basket and started to walk out the door but stopped next to Toji.
You weren’t sure what made you do it, but you opened your mouth and asked anyway, “would you like to trade numbers?”
He looked at you, smirking, but his eyes had some unreadable emotion reflected in them.
“Doll, I’m flattered, but you might be a bit young for me,” and he did look flattered, if not a little apologetic.
You scoffed, “I’m 24, if that makes any difference.”
He snorted, “you’re older than I thought, I’ll give you that, but I’m 36 with a kid. I promise, you don’t want anything to do with me,” his tone had turned hard, leaving no room for argument.
“Suit yourself,” you said with a shrug, you were a grown up, you could handle rejection just fine, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to make a bad decision and leave the door open for him to come back to you.
“I live in unit 311 if you change your mind.” You stepped towards the door to leave.
“Wait,” he said, sounding as if it was against his better judgement.
You turned expectantly.
“Girls usually run for the hills at the mention of my kid, are you seriously still interested?”
“I love kids. I’ve wanted them myself since I was a little girl.” You cringed internally, who the fuck says things like that when they’re asking someone for their number? Even though it’s true, you knew that sentence would haunt your nightmares for a while.
“Huh,” he said simply. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He tapped around for a moment and turned the device towards you, the contacts app pulled up for you to fill in.
You did so quickly and handed the phone back, making sure you hit the save button.
He slipped the cell back into his pocket and continued piling his clothes into the washer.
“Have a good night, Toji,” you called to him as you slipped out into the night.
He just grunted in response.
You trekked across the parking lot to your building and up the stairs to your unit, your familiar apartment greeting you with a blast of air conditioning that felt absolutely heavenly against your flushed skin.
You plopped the laundry basket on your couch and sat down next to it, when you noticed a smear of something sticky on your palm.
You inspected the substance curiously, it was brownish colored and slightly viscous, maybe some kind of grease?
You walked to your kitchen and rinsed your hands under the faucet, watching as the liquid almost entirely washed away. You dried your hands and realized with shock as the towel came away that it was not, in fact, grease.
Blood? You wondered where on Earth you might have gotten actual blood on your hands and could not think of any logical time it may have happened. You were pretty sure you weren’t injured anywhere, but where could it have come from?
Could it have come from Toji’s phone? No, you probably just nicked yourself on the dryer somehow or maybe you’d gotten some kind of bug bite and not realized you’d scratched it bloody until now. You pushed the mystery from your mind. No point pondering something you’d probably never know the answer to.
You spent the extra time to fold your clothes before tucking yourself into bed. As you laid down to sleep, you heard your phone buzz.
You flipped the screen over; you had received a notification that simply read:
| Unknown Number: Toji Fushiguro
A smile cracked across your face as you drifted into sleep.
You weren’t sure what it was, but something in your gut told you to Google your new acquaintance. It was something you commonly did, if only to find good pictures to show your friends, but your butt had been saved more times than you could count from a simple internet search: news articles and public police records were your best friends when it came to dating strangers.
You discovered that your neighbor was either an extremely private person, or he had to be using a false name. He had no social media accounts that you could find, which was unusual but not altogether impossible you supposed, but his name did come up on People Search.
You clicked the link and paid five dollars to view his documents. You found a marriage license, he had been married several years ago, and you learned from it that he had changed his last name to hers instead of the other way around. How romantic was that?
You noticed that there was no divorce decree and clicked on his wife’s name. It didn’t take but a few seconds to find her death certificate. She had passed away just a few years into their marriage.
A widower, and a single dad at that? Man, this guy is tough.
The only other documents were pertaining to the custody of his kid, and you knew those would be highly redacted (because they always are) so you ignored them and closed the tab.
Well, at least he’s not a criminal, you thought. In fact, his criminal record was completely clean, not even a speeding ticket as far as you could tell, which certainly seemed like a good sign.
You still waited a few days before you decided to text him back. You were busy at work and figured you didn’t want to look desperate or crazy, and you liked to keep the boys guessing when it came to your level of interest, just to make things fun.
You doubted that he was the one switching your laundry around though, based on the time he showed up the other night and his answer about when he used the laundry room.
| You: Hey, you free tonight?
| Toji F: workin
| You: Drinks?
| Toji F: what about “working” makes you think I’d be free for drinks?
| You: … After work?
| Toji F: I’ll text my sitter and lyk. Gtg
A few hours later Toji texted you a simple thumbs-up emoji and you sent him the name of a local bar that stayed open late. He offered to pick you up and you agreed, excited.
You tidied up your apartment and took a long, luxurious shower, making sure to shave everything to your liking (just in case!), then got dressed to go out. You were bringing him to a western bar, one of your favorites, so you dressed yourself in your bootcut jeans and a halter top, boots and some simple jewelry. You curled your hair and did your make-up, realizing that you could hardly remember the last time you went out, much less on a date.
You were nervous, waiting impatiently for him to appear. You had restocked your cigarette supply and were tempted to light one up but figured you ought to wait. Maybe Toji would have some and you could get a return on your initial investment.
You chewed on your lip as you waited on the couch, that anxious feeling that always accompanied first dates sneaking up on you, churning in your gut uncomfortably. You scrolled on your phone without really looking at it for a few minutes.
Knock, knock, knock.
You took a deep, steadying breath and walked across the room to peer out the peep hole. Toji stood on the other side, leaning casually against the wall across from your door, he wore jeans and another plain black t-shirt, but he appeared clean and washed, his face freshly shaven.
You snatched up your wallet and opened the door to greet him. He smiled as your eyes met and he pushed off the wall with surprising grace, a whoosh of his scent wafting towards you. The cologne he had on was intoxicating, musk and cedar, with a hint of citrus. Overall, it was a little woodsy but still sharp and aromatic.
“Hi, dollface. You look good,” he gave you a dramatic up-down, smirking.
“Hey, thanks muscles,” you said, flushing, and a little breathless.
He snorted, “‘muscles?’ Where did that come from?” He held out his elbow for you to take, which you did, and he led you to his car.
“You’ve called me ‘doll,’ ‘dollface,’ and ‘sweetheart,’ I had to find a nickname for you, and you’ve clearly been hitting the gym. It only seemed fair.”
“Ah, so it’s a compliment?”
“Sure, it is. However, I am not about to compliment this shit box you just walked us to,” you joked. He had deposited you on the passenger side of a 90’s navy blue sedan. The clear coat was peeling in places, some rust peeling through, dents and dings all over the place. There was some sun damage, but the defects were mostly cosmetic if you were honest.
“Shut the fuck up, it’s not a shit box. It’s a Corolla.” His tone was light, and you breathed a micro sigh of relief that he shared your sort of mean-spirited humor.
“How do you even fit in there, big guy?” You giggled.
“It’s surprisingly roomy,” he grinned, hopping into the driver’s seat and starting the engine.
You climbed into the car as he was adjusting the volume on the radio. It was set to a rock/alternative station that was currently playing Linkin Park.
You nodded your head along to the music and directed him to the bar. For a guy with a kid, his car really didn’t show it. You would’ve expected it to have at least a car seat or debris from snacks, or maybe some kid’s jacket or shoes, or schoolwork or something, but the interior of the car was mostly clean. It smelled strongly of menthol cigarettes, and there were a few errant burn marks along the headliner, and you noticed that stuffed into the door pockets and littered on the floor were a shit-ton of, presumably, losing lottery tickets. You filed that information away for later.
“How old is your kid?” You asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of your voice.
He gave you a sidelong glance, “He’s eight. Why?”
You shrugged, “I was just curious. May I ask his name?”
“His name is Megumi.”
“Megumi,” you repeated softly. “That’s a nice name. Thank you for telling me.”
“You’re welcome, but you don’t have to feign interest just yet, we’re not even past our first date.”
“I’m not feigning interest; I genuinely want to know! Besides, I don’t know one parent that doesn’t like to talk about their kid, I thought it would be an easy topic.”
“I’ll talk about him more once we get to know each other,” he said tersely.
“That’s fine with me,” you said raising your hands in surrender.
The two of you didn’t talk much for the rest of the drive, but you did find yourself singing along to the radio, which wrestled a chuckle out of Toji, lightening the mood significantly.
You had a friend that worked as a bartender, and you were pretty sure he was working tonight. It was also a weekday, so you were hoping it wouldn’t be too crowded so you and Toji could actually get to have some real conversation without having to yell over the music and chatter of a rowdy bar.
Toji pulled into a parking spot, the familiar wooden exterior of the bar bringing a smile to your face. You got out of the car and pulled out your smokes.
“Care for a cancer stick?” You asked, grinning.
He nodded and pulled a silver zippo and a pack of Newport’s out of his pocket, following you to the designated smoking area outside the bar.
You lit your own cigarette and inhaled deeply, Toji mirroring your movements, the mingling scents of smoke and his cologne filling the air.
“Menthols, huh? You asked, just trying to fill the silence.
“Yep,” he said, taking a drag, “I was supposed to be quitting this year, but you know how that goes. I’m not always able to take smoke breaks at work so you’d think that would help but it doesn’t.”
“Yeah, quitting is tough, but if I couldn’t smoke at work I’d probably kill somebody. What job do you have that doesn’t let you smoke?”
“Construction,” he said, smoke obscuring his face for a brief moment as he exhaled.
You narrowed your eyes at him. His answer had come easily to him, but it almost sounded practiced – hollow. He was very still, his free hand tucked in his pocket, the air between you charged with electricity as he met your gaze, his dark eyes devoid of emotion, but he didn’t look away.
“And you aren’t able to smoke as a construction worker?” You asked skeptically.
“Some job sites don’t allow open flame for safety bullshit. Smoking counts.” He said matter-of-factly.
“They do construction at night?”
“I work for the city; we do highways and repair guardrails and shit. Roads are less busy at night.”
“Huh,” you said simply, taking the last drag off your cigarette and smushing it into the ashtray provided by the bar.
You couldn't figure out why he would lie. What did he gain from it? He had to be getting income from somewhere, but clearly not enough to be living somewhere nicer than the shitty apartments you did, so if he was lying, what would he be covering up? He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who cared what other people thought about him, but even if he did and he was covering something up, what was it? And why would he choose construction as the cover up? It just didn’t make sense. Maybe he was a male stripper or an escort, that sort of made sense. He had the looks for it, certainly, you admitted.
Toji interrupted your thoughts by clearing his throat. At some point he had finished smoking and walked to the door which he was holding open for you. You scampered over, thanking him as you went past.
Walking into the bar, noting with satisfaction that there was only one table full of patrons, you locked eyes with the bartender and beamed at him.
“Suguru!” You rushed over, claiming a seat in the middle of the bar, with your back facing the empty dance floor.
“Ah, long time no see, my friend! You drinking tonight?” he asked, smiling back at you as he polished a whiskey glass with a rag. He wore his typical uniform, black dress shirt and slacks, his long black hair pulled up into a man bun, exposing the black earrings he wore in both lobes.
“Sure, I’ll have a gin and tonic, please. Just open me a tab, if you don’t mind,” you said, just as Toji pulled a barstool closer to yours and took his seat.
“Alright, and who’s this? A new friend?” Suguru asked, raising an eyebrow at you as he assembled your drink with the ease of someone who did it for a living. You knew it wasn’t a difficult drink to make, only two ingredients and a garnish sometimes, but you still loved to watch, his familiarity with the space and the steps always sort of mesmerized you.
“Yep! This is Toji! What’re you drinking, muscles?”
“Well drinks are on special for five bucks tonight, and domestic beers are four dollars for a draft,” Suguru provided, sliding your drink towards you.
You took a sip, relishing in the refreshing sharpness of the gin and the subtle buzz of alcohol entering your system.
“I’ll take a Blue Moon on draft,” Toji said after surveying the taps.
Suguru nodded, already grabbing a glass and filling it, “would you like an orange slice?”
“No. And don’t let her put that on her tab either, I’ll buy my own drinks.”
“You got it,” Suguru said, sliding the beer to him and stepping over to the POS to ring in the beverages.
Toji watched him for a few moments before turning to you.
“You come here a lot?” He asked, sipping his beer.
“I haven’t been in a while, but yeah, I would say I frequent the place. Suguru and I went to high school together, and before he worked here we worked together at my job, so we go way back,” you said, indicating your friend, unsure if Toji had caught his name.
“I see. Speaking of, where do you work, by the way?”
“Oh, I’m a manager at the movie theater. I get off so late because we have to stay until the last movie lets out for the night.”
“Ah. You get free movie tickets?” He asked, leaning one elbow on the bar and taking another swig of his beer.
“Yep, sure do. I also get discounted concessions so hit me up if you ever want to see a movie,” you said, grinning and taking a sip of your own drink.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Toji said.
You sat there without speaking for a few minutes, country music pouring out of the speakers in the bar, and you were singing along to the words again when Toji’s laugh startled you out of the zone you’d gotten yourself into.
“What’s so funny?” You asked, cheeks heating a bit, though you were sure you knew what he was about to say.
“God, you’re terrible,” he said, trying and failing to stifle more giggles.
You smacked his shoulder playfully, though you knew you were terrible, “ugh! Rude!”
“Admittedly, I might be partially biased, because I have a strong hatred for country music,” he said with a shrug.
“Aw, you live in Texas and you hate country music? What’s wrong with you?”
“All country songs are about drinking, break-ups, sex, or some combination of those things. It’s a fact.”
“That’s so untrue,” you laughed, “some of the greatest love songs of all time are country songs! Besides what’s wrong with drinking and sex?”
“I would argue that to you hicks, sex and love are the same thing. Believe it or not, I actually enjoy both drinking and sex, the problem is that somehow they all manage to sound sad while singing about it.”
“That’s total bull and you know it, Toji,” you scoffed, “sex and love are not mutually exclusive, even to country bumpkins like me, and not all country songs are sad! I’ll show you,” you said, flagging down Suguru.
Toji’s head tilted to the side, a devilish grin on his face. “Show me which part?”
You stuck your tongue out at him, your earlier flush returning as Suguru sidled up to the pair of you.
“Sugu, can I get on the aux?”
He looked around the bar, eyeing the table of guys that was sitting a way away from you, off to the side of the dance floor.
“I’ve got to vet it first since I’ve got other customers, but send me your playlist and I’ll play it,” he said, leaning against the bar and waiting patiently.
“Awesome! Thank you!” You quickly went about sending the playlist to him, along with a few songs in particular that you thought might help prove your point.
Suguru opened the message and shot you a look. You raised an eyebrow at him. He leaned closer to you to whisper in your ear.
“Girl, are you nuts?”
You blinked at him, “what?”
“You haven’t come to see me in weeks and now you show up at my bar asking me to play corny love songs for some guy I’ve never seen or heard of who looks at least ten years older than you? I’m genuinely concerned about you and your well-being,” he hissed, keeping his voice low, glancing over at a completely unbothered but not oblivious Toji.
“Sugu, I’m trying to show him that country music is about more than just break-ups, drinking, and sex. No romantic feelings for him. Yet.”
He narrowed his eyes at you. “I mean, he’s kinda right, but let it be known that I’m sketched out by him.”
“Okay, duly noted. I’ll show the both of you country music is more than meets the ear.”
Toji couldn’t decide if you were insane or just dumb. A 6’2” stranger comes up to you in the middle of the night asking for a cig, and your answer isn’t “fuck off, I’ll cut you,” it’s “hell yeah, I’ll split it with you!” Not to mention the age difference.
You’d practically met him with blood still on his hands; the laundry basket he’d lugged across the parking lot was literally all work clothes, and he’d just come from a job that wasn’t an easy clean up. He would have to try to teach you some survival skills if this was going to go anywhere.
I must be a masochist, he thought. He knew in his heart that there was no way this would end well for the two of you. He also knew that you suspected he wasn’t being honest about something, which was bound to cause problems later, and what twenty-something wants to get involved with a guy with a kid? Much less a guy who kills people for a living.
He had to admit that you looked pretty damn good, though. Maybe that was why he hadn’t turned you down when you asked for his number and then to go out for drinks. A few nights ago, you were in tiny shorts and a tank top that left just the right amount to imagination; he’d be remiss to say that you weren’t attractive, and he was an opportunistic creature.
You were whispering with the bartender while Toji sipped his beer, but when you’d walked out of your apartment earlier and he’d laid eyes on your cute southern outfit, he had felt a stirring in his gut that couldn’t be denied.
He doubted that he’d score tonight, but he wasn’t above fucking on a first date. It was convenient that he and you lived at the same apartment complex, and that Maki had been available to stay over with Megumi just in case.
Everything about this situation was convenient, and that’s why he was letting it happen, doomed or not. At least, that’s what Toji was telling himself when you spun around in your chair as some twangy guitar started playing over the speakers.
“I’m going to teach you how to two-step,” you said, a devilish gleam in your eye.
He snorted, “I think not. You’d have to drag me off this barstool or at least let me get a few more beers in before I even considered dancing.”
You pouted, “Toji, two-stepping is easy breezy. Also, nobody cares if you suck.”
“Sorry, doll,” he said, finishing off his drink and nodding to the bartender, Suguru, he thought he’d heard you say, for another one.
You sat there, sipping your gin with furrowed brows, thinking.
“Rock, paper, scissors.” You said suddenly, eyes bright with new determination. Your hands were already in position, your fist curled and resting on your opposite palm.
Toji laughed, “absolutely not. You’d have to beat me in an arm wrestle before I got out there.”
Your eyes lit up at this, and you hopped out of your seat and strode across the room to the table full of guys on the other side of the bar.
“Oh, you’ve done it now,” the bartender said with a smirk.
Toji shrugged, but he hadn’t taken his eyes off you as you spoke with the table.
“This girl is something else,” he said with a sigh as something you said set the whole group of guys laughing, and they began to get up from the table and walk over.
“She really is,” Suguru said with a knowing glance before he turned to the approaching men.
There were four of them, all in what Toji generally referred to as “cowboy” attire. Pearl snap shirts and jeans, all wearing boots, two of them had on obnoxious belt buckles. Toji sized them up, noting that he was physically larger than each, though they were all within a few inches of him in terms of height. He knew from experience that lean guys could be strong as hell, so he wasn’t about to underestimate any of them, especially if they did work on a farm or ranch, or even in the oil fields. Those jobs were good at building muscle that wasn’t flashy.
“Toji, meet my new friends! They’re gonna arm wrestle in my stead, so I hope you’re ready to dance with me.” You said, grinning.
“You’re proud of yourself, huh?” Toji said to you, turning his head and cracking the joints in his neck.
You stuck your tongue out at him again.
“No arm wrestling on my bar, go find a table somewhere. Also don’t break anything, or I’m cutting everyone off and closing the bar early,” Suguru said sternly.
A chorus of “yessir” echoed through the small crowd. Toji stood and stretched, flexing his muscles a bit to warm them up but mostly for show as he locked eyes with you, a grin oozing with confidence on his face.
“Alright, let’s get this over with,” he said gesturing to a nearby table.
The first challenger approached, reaching out a hand towards Toji to shake. He did so, nodding and they took their seats on opposite sides of the table.
“I don’t know what she promised you if you win, but I’m not getting on that dancefloor so hopefully you don’t have your heart set on it,” Toji said.
“Well, she drives a hard bargain,” he said with a strong southern accent and a smirk, “but I’m just a fan of good old-fashioned competition. I’m Dave, by the way.”
“Alright then, best of luck to you, Dave.”
The two men braced elbows on the table and locked their hands into an iron grip. Toji looked over at you, waiting for some sort of “go” signal.
“Okay, boys! I don’t want any cheating, please put your left hands on the table. I’ll call the winner after the back of someone’s hand hits the table. Makes sense?”
They nodded and placed their non-wrestling hands on the table.
“Go!”
BAM!
The speed that Toji won was shocking even to him; he worried for a split second that he’d broken the poor guy’s arm, but a moment passed and Dave started to laugh, quickly followed by the raucous howling of everyone else.
“Wait, wait, wait, I wasn’t ready!” He gasped between laughs, his hand still pinned to the table.
Toji clicked his tongue, releasing Dave and going in for a sportsmanlike handshake, “sorry, that’s just the way it goes, bud.”
But that seemed to only make Dave and the others laugh harder, you even had tears in your eyes as he looked over at you, confusion bubbling in his chest.
“What the hell is going on?”
“Toji,” you said, barely breathing through the giggles, “I didn’t call a winner before you let go.”
“So?”
“So, that means you concede, and I get to teach you how to dance,” you said, finally getting a good breath in, and smiling wickedly up at him.
“You brat, did you put them up to this?” He asked, incredulous.
“I did! Unfortunately, I promised them all shots, so you at least have a little more time before I torture you.”
“I call dibs on one of those,” he grumbled, stalking back to the bar.
Holy hell, she is sharp, he thought, a headache starting to form behind his eyes.
“Goddammit,” he muttered, leaning against the bar and downing the entire beer that he’d left behind earlier.
Suguru gave him a sorry glance as he poured six shots of whiskey and stacked them on the edge of the bar.
“You want another Blue Moon?” He asked, brows etched with concern.
Toji nodded and in seconds he had a fresh drink. He was quickly joined by the party of four that had somehow managed to get one over on him, and you, who sidled up next to him and put your hand on his shoulder.
“Toji, I’m sorry we tricked you.”
“Whatever. I should’ve seen right through that,” he said, frustrated with himself. He turned to look you in the eyes, “I underestimated you, smartass.”
“I guess I probably won’t get away with anything like that again, huh?” You asked, picking up one of the shots.
Toji picked up his own shot and grinned. “I wouldn’t bet on it if I were you.”
The six of you clinked your shot glasses together, tapped them to the bar, and gulped them down. Dave and company returned to their table, taking their jovial chatter with them.
Toji braced himself for whatever humiliation he was certain to face on the dance floor as you finished off your gin and tonic and ordered a glass of water.
“I don’t know why you’re so averse to dancing; I have this theory that you’re secretly agile as hell and I think that’s pretty conducive to being decent at it. You’re also a workout guy, so I bet it’s hard to knock you off balance.”
“What makes you think I’m agile?” He wondered, studying you. Maybe he really had underestimated you.
You shrugged, “I don’t know, you’re a big guy but you move around really quiet.”
“Shitty childhood explains that,” he said with his own half-hearted shrug. “I’m not some kind of secret ballerina.”
“Damn it, I would’ve liked to see that,” you grinned.
“Hate to disappoint,” he replied, taking a big gulp of beer. He was desperate to be a little more buzzed before he made a fool of himself for the mere chance of getting a piece of ass.
He clocked a moment too late that the music had been paused for a moment longer than normal between songs as Suguru flashed a big thumbs up in your direction. You smiled widely and grabbed Toji’s hand, and he allowed himself to be pulled to the dance floor, leaving his drink behind regretfully.
“Okay, so we kind of hold hands, like this,” you clasped his right hand and pulled it out to the side of your bodies, not letting go, “and I hold your shoulder, and you hold my back with your other hand.” You gripped his shoulder with your left hand, and he followed suit, resting his hand on your upper back.
He nodded, feeling a little flushed about the ears; he wasn’t a god-fearing man, but he prayed you didn’t notice, or at least that you attributed it to the alcohol.
“Now, the guy leads, but since I’m teaching you you’re going to follow my lead. I’ll still do the steps the way I’m supposed to, you’ve just gotta pay attention. It’s really easy, basically walking.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this right now,” he said under his breath as some country song started up from the speakers.
“Okay, so the steps always start with your left foot, my right – quick, quick, slow, slow,” you demonstrated, and he did his best to follow along.
A few verses of the song went along as he learned the steps, thankfully minimally stepping on your feet. It became easier as he went through the motions a few times, and he realized he was equating this in his mind to combat patterns. Steps and speed in certain directions, he had done this before, just while holding a deadly implement instead of a girl’s hand.
“You’re getting it! Ready to spin me?” You exclaimed, your eyes bright with joy.
“Sure, doll,” he said, smiling back at you.
“Okay, just lift your right hand and let your left fall down as you’re stepping backwards, and I’ll do the rest.”
He did so, unintentionally lining the spin up with the chorus of the song:
“’Cuz you’re the one I want, you’re the one I need, baby,
If I was a king, you would be my queen
You’re the rock in my roll
You’re good for my soul, it’s true
I’m head over boots for you-”
You were beaming as you stepped back and spun, your hair flowing behind you as you did so, and he noticed that you were singing again, off key and with a ridiculously exaggerated southern drawl. He found himself smiling too.
As quickly as it began, your spin was over and one hand slotted back into his, the other finding it’s home on his shoulder. He brought his own up to your back again, your sweet perfume filling his nostrils as you drew closer, not missing a beat with the steps to the music.
“Hey, who sings this song?” He asked, mischief coating his voice.
“It’s “Head Over Boots” by Jon Pardi,” you supplied, seemingly proud that he would show interest.
“Let’s keep it that way, huh?” He smirked, nearly missing a step as you swatted at his shoulder.
“You ass! This song isn’t about sex, break-ups, or drinking though, so what do you say about that, Mr. Cynic?”
“I say that although it’s not mainly about sex, it’s implied so it counts,” he said, just as the song switched to another.
“You’re so full of it, Toji. I bet you’d make a great country singer,” you said, rolling your eyes.
“Oh, and you’re the authority for good singing?” He snorted.
“Oh my god, let me live! I know I suck, but I’m having fun! I think you’d be good because you have a rich sultry voice. I can picture you in a sexy western outfit singing Josh Turner covers.”
He raised an eyebrow, “So you like my smoker voice?”
“That’s an insult to all smoker voices, but yes, I do. Your homework is to learn a country song so you can sing it for me. I’ll send you my playlist.”
“You’ve already performed a miracle getting me on this dance floor, you’re pushing your luck if you expect me to sing.”
“It’ll be fun, I have a karaoke machine at home!”
“Nope. Not happening. You’ve gotta indulge one of my interests before I do another of yours,” he said.
“Ooh, that sounds exciting, what interest is that?”
He thought for a moment and decided. “I’m going to take you to the horse races.”
“Thank god, I thought for sure you were going to say the gym,” you breathed a sigh of relief, “that’s unexpected.”
“I thought it would be more fun than watching me lose at the casino,” he shrugged.
“You like to gamble?”
“It’s a passion of mine. Not very good at it though, if I’m honest,” he said, realizing that they had danced themselves back to the bar. He gestured with his head towards it, and you released him and glided over, looking like you had just won the Powerball.
“You didn’t do half bad! I was expecting a lot worse,” Suguru said by way of greeting, he was back to polishing glasses.
“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or not, so thanks,” Toji said before downing the last of his beer with a grimace, it had warmed slightly while they’d been dancing.
“Can you close me out? I’m done for the night,” Toji said, reaching into his wallet and sliding some cash over to Suguru, “you can keep the change.”
Suguru nodded and turned to you, “you still drinking or should I close you out too?”
“Yeah, we ought to be heading out soon. Here you go, Sugu.” You passed him some cash and turned to Toji.
“You good to drive home?”
“Yep.”
“Sweet,” you turned back to your friend and waved goodbye, “I’ll see you soon! Text me sometime!”
“Later,” he said, waving back.
You made it to the car without incident, but once the engine fired up, the telltale “ding” of the gas light rang through the little space.
“Shit, do you mind if we stop at a gas station?” Toji asked, pulling two cigarettes from his pocket, placing both in his mouth and lighting them, then passing you one.
You took it with a roll of your eyes, “I don’t mind going with you, and you didn’t have to bribe me.”
He grinned around the cig, throwing the car in reverse and backing out of the parking space, “it’s not a bribe, I owed you one. It’ll be a quick stop.”
As hot as unprotected sex is I think it's even hotter and more fun to drag them to buy condoms in the middle of the night to the nearest pharmacy or shop, I swear it's like a little side quest
Hello my friend! I just came across your account so I wanted to say that I love your stories and everything! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) I also wanted to know if you are doing any stories requests or anything? (｡· v ·｡) ✨💋🍑🏵️🌴🦋🦄🪻💕🌺🪷💮✨
Hello! Thank you so so much for the love! I have a lot of free time at this moment so I’d be able to try my hand at a request!
I can do fluff or nsfw to your tastes for pretty much any 18+ character from these fandoms, only reason I’d decline is based off of familiarity:
Dragon Ball Z
Jujutsu Kaisen
One Piece
Supernatural
Marvel/DC Comics/Movies
My Hero Academia
ACOTAR
Dungeon Meshi/Delicious in Dungeon
Death Note
JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure
I’m definitely forgetting some so if you don’t see your request on this list shoot your shot and I’ll let you know if I’m able to do it!
I will not do:
Hetalia
Homestuck
Harry Potter
-OR-
Rape/Non-Con
Underage or “aged up”
I reserve the right to decline a request for any reason, as my work is much improved by my own personal interest and I want to make sure that my readers receive the best possible product I can offer.
I also would love to hear your ideas for AU’s, certain events you want to see, and the general vibe of the work you’re looking for!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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I am just finishing up moving 1700 miles across the country, I’m currently job hunting and I don’t go back to school until the end of February so I have tons of time to get some writing done!
I know I’ve mainly done DBZ content so far but I’m writing a JJK Toji x Reader for those who are fans of JJK, and I’m working on part three of my Saiyan Reader x Vegeta series.
I don’t really have a timeline for the release of these works but I just thought I’d let everyone know. I’m kinda thinking about making a master list post soon but idk if I have enough going on for that yet so we’ll see.
If there’s anyone out there who likes my stuff I’d love to try my hand at doing some requests, I’m into a lot of fandoms and feel like that could be a fun challenge for me. I’ll put a list out for which fandoms I’m interested in writing for if anyone wants that.
Thanks everyone for all the support here on Tumblr and if you haven’t already found me on AO3 I am under the username TubularTotally.
Every like, kudos, comment, and reblog means the absolute world to me, as I’ve always been self conscious about my work and I love hearing from people who have read my content and enjoyed it, but I also appreciate any feedback you can give me to improve. Thanks again for being here.
"After Midnight" PART 2 Vegeta X Saiyan! Fem Reader Cont.
Tumblr wouldnt let me post this all in one go, sorry for the split. thx for reading! You can also check it out on AO3 under my @ TubularTotally.
THANKS!!
The brand was cheap, but you hadn’t ever smoked before, so it didn’t make much of a difference to you. You presumed that all cigarettes tasted something like dirt, but the flavor was trivial; it was the nicotine high that you were after.
You sat down in one of the chairs, Vegeta in the other, legs crossed, and he gingerly extended a hand towards you, a request. You lit another cig and passed it to him.
You could see why people used to think smoking was cool; the soft red glow of the cherry in the low light of the storm, the smoke curling around his face as he exhaled, and even the delicate positioning of his fingers was strangely attractive.
There was no ashtray to be seen, so you just flicked your ashes into the air until the cigarette was finished. You smushed the butt into the wet pavement and set it on the little table beside you.
Vegeta copied the motion a few moments later, and you sat in uneasy silence for several minutes before he spoke.
“I couldn’t answer your question earlier,” he said.
You pondered this momentarily, then asked quietly, “Why not?”
He clenched his jaw and gulped down a good portion of his scotch, glaring at the wall. “I don’t know. I’ve had time to think about it now, though.”
You gestured for him to continue, sipping your drink and fighting a gag.
He took a deep breath before speaking.
“I am not the man I was when I arrived on Earth. There was a time in my life, not long ago, that I undoubtedly would have killed you for behaving as you have… did. What has changed, I know not, but I do know that you, probably rightly, believed it to be your only option. I know that you are not a disgrace. I know that I don’t hate you, and I won’t allow your pride as a Saiyan to be tarnished by a nonsensical fight such as this one. I shouldn’t have pushed so hard. I- seeing you like that… I never want to experience that again. As you said, we are both new to being together. I want to stay that way if you’ll let me.”
You turned to face him fully and swallowed hard; your heart felt like a hummingbird beating its wings against your ribcage.
“You mean you still want to be my boyfriend?” You asked weakly.
He rolled his eyes, “I hate that word, you know, but yes. Partners, as we were before.”
You beamed at him, but the smile quickly disappeared as a low whistle cut through the air, you and Vegeta spinning towards the house to face the cause of the sound.
“Wow! I thought it would take a lot longer for you two to work this out. Great teamwork, guys!”
Your body sensed the familiar energy before your eyes settled on an obnoxiously bright orange outfit. He stood just in front of the door as if he’d been there all along.
“Kakarot, how nice of you to join us,” Vegeta said, voice oozing with sarcasm, “next time you decide to drop us on your breeding planet, you could at least do us the courtesy of cleaning up!”
Goku flushed, a hand absentmindedly running through his hair as he chuckled nervously, “yeah, sorry about that. It’s not like I had any warning! I was working with what time I had before you woke up! Was it really that bad?”
“Yes,” you said in unison with Vegeta; the stench had been overwhelming; every surface in the house felt contaminated. Even the scent of Goku now was mildly disturbing to you; it was like the phantom of his arousal was lurking just beyond the reach of your olfactory nerve.
“Damn, sorry about that, heh. Well at least you had the chance to get back at me, am I right?” He said, raising an eyebrow at Vegeta.
Vegeta crossed his arms and stared at Goku, venom in his eyes.
“No, Kakarot, we’re decent people who wash our sheets,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Oh, so you did fuck! Nice,” Goku said with a smirk. If not for the surprise in his voice, you would’ve thought he was teasing. “That’s kinda why I’ve been afraid to come back until now. I didn’t want to interrupt anything accidentally,” he said.
It was Vegeta’s turn to smirk, “We fucked on the first night here, Kakarot. How’s that for your expectations?”
“Vegeta!” You hissed, slapping his arm in protest. Apparently, he wasn’t bashful at all when competing with Goku was involved. Unsurprisingly, it was the opposite for you; you would have preferred that Goku’s loudmouthed self know as little as possible about your sex life.
Goku cocked his head to look at you, barely containing his laugh, “what happened to ‘as if I’d ever sleep with him,’ huh?”
“That’s exactly what I said,” Vegeta cackled.
“Oh, fuck you guys,” you retorted, though your cheeks were burning.
“No, just him, I’m married,” Goku grinned, and Vegeta laughed with him.
Before you could think of something clever to respond with, an electronic beep had everyone’s ears perking up.
“Lunch is ready if you’re hungry for it. Then you can take us home?”
“C’mon, you know I’m always hungry and a man of my word! You two managed not to kill each other, and it seems like you won’t be trying to in the future, so I’ll bring you both home. Now you and I can tell all our friends that Vegeta got himself a girlfriend,” he said with a wink at you, stepping into the house with almost preternatural grace. He was far too familiar with this place.
“Yeah, I’m sure Bulma will be absolutely thrilled, and we’re asking Krillin to officiate our wedding,” you deadpanned, passing a giggling Goku and crossing to the kitchen.
“Oh, fuck you,” Vegeta retorted, sitting at the bar, sipping his scotch with a glare. Krillin was still wary about Vegeta sometimes. Rightfully so, as Vegeta had nearly killed him once.
“Not right now, sweetheart,” you fluttered your eyelashes at him and made three heaping bowls of rice, setting them in front of each Saiyan and ignoring Vegeta’s glare as you all dug in.
“Wow, I didn’t know you could cook!” Goku said before inhaling his portion with delight.
“I’ve been practicing! My only meals on the spaceship were a sort of nutritious jelly and powdered potatoes so trying new things has become a passion of mine!”
“Oh, gross! That sounds so boring!” Goku exclaimed.
“You’re so well adjusted I forget that you spent your whole life in a ship,” Vegeta noted between bites.
“What did you even do in there?” Kakarot’s eyes were bright with curiosity.
“Well, thanks, I think. I don’t really think about it much anymore. My life is on Earth now, but besides basic push-ups, sit-ups, and running on my treadmill, I had a lot of books! I had romance, adventure, a few mystery novels, and some different textbooks – I probably read each one over twenty times. If I got really bored, I’d peruse the ship logs or I’d pretend that the computer was my friend. I would talk to it about pretty much anything, and it would answer my questions. Not really any toys that I can think of, but I did have a blanket that I kept,” you said, heart squeezing at the memory of your blanket. You missed it, you realized. It was back on Earth.
“Wow, I guess you had no choice but to start training with only reading to keep you busy. I probably would’ve done something stupid and broken the ship, then ended up on some nowhere planet,” said Goku, picking up his bowl and reaching over the counter to put it in the sink.
Vegeta scowled at Goku’s poor manners and turned back to you.
“I didn’t know that they made single-person escape pods with verbal command computers and exercise equipment,” he said, quirking an eyebrow.
“Oh, I didn’t live in a pod, Vegeta. I didn’t know how to land the cubby ship I lived in, so I used the escape pod to land on Earth since its protocols were preprogrammed. Neither ship could maintain light speed, if that’s your next question.”
“Hmm,” he hummed, passing his own bowl to Kakarot who reached across the bar again to put it in the sink.
You finished your meal quickly and washed up the dishes; Goku helped you dry this time, surprisingly breaking no dishes. While you worked Vegeta went and put the sheets in the dryer.
You headed to the bedroom to gather your things and tidy. You were not going to leave this place a mess for Chi-Chi to clean up, you’d never hear the end of it. A few moments later Vegeta appeared, closing the door behind him.
You raised your eyebrow at him as he approached you. You opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off with a searing kiss. You squeaked with surprise, melting into his touch. You wrapped your tail around his calf tightly, his fingers found your hair and tangled themselves in, pulling pleasurably against your scalp.
You let yourself revel in him for a moment – you had thought earlier that he would never let you kiss him again. You had believed entirely that he would want nothing to do with you, that his mercy in letting you live would be the ultimate punishment.
You pressed your hand to his chest and tried to separate yourself from him, but he didn’t want to set you free, pushing you against the wall instead, his fingers tightening in your hair as he held you. His tongue swept across the roof of your mouth, and you fought to keep quiet, your hands gripping his shirt. Finally, he broke away, panting slightly, a string of saliva connecting you to him.
“Don’t ever do something as idiotic as that again,” he spat, releasing you and wiping his mouth.
You laughed, a little breathless, “oh? Is that all?”
He scowled, still leaning in close but his hands were off you, “I realized I neglected to mention how stupid that was. Never again. I won’t be partnered with a weakling.”
“I wouldn’t let you if you tried,” you said with a smirk.
“Of course not. You’re sure you don’t want to stay here a while longer?” He blushed.
“Here in this room or here on this planet? And why?” You asked, genuinely confused.
“This room. I can tell Kakarot to fuck off.”
You chuckled, reaching out and taking his hand.
“Vegeta, as tempting as that sounds, I know you’re avoiding something.”
He sighed, tracing his thumb across your knuckles as his eyes slowly drifted, pausing briefly at your lips before floating back up to meet your gaze.
Your mouth watered as you stared into the depths of his dark eyes, awaiting his response.
He leaned in closely to you again, his breath tickling your ear as he spoke, “I am less than thrilled to go back to regular life. Though the image of you in my own bed is certainly tempting, I quite enjoy having you whenever and wherever I please.”
You shivered, heat flooding your body as you pictured him needy and demanding back on Earth, his hands groping hungrily and his teeth leaving claiming marks all over you. The vision faded as quickly as it began as you heard Goku shuffling outside the door and remembered that you were not alone.
“I’m sure we’ll manage back on Earth,” you pointed out, a bit breathless.
“Undoubtedly,” he said with a smirk, pulling himself away from you and stalking out of the room.
You took a moment to collect yourself and followed suit, hoping Goku wouldn’t notice your shift in scent as you picked up your stray clothes and carried them to the laundry room.
“Ready to leave, lovebirds? Got everything?” Goku asked, grinning as you exited the little utility closet that housed the laundry machines.
“I know I am,” you said, sidling up next to Goku and putting a hand on his shoulder. The only things that you needed to take back to Earth were the clothes you had on and your phone, which was tucked away in your pockets.
Vegeta reluctantly stepped on the other side of the taller Saiyan, putting his hand on Goku’s shoulder, eyebrows knitted together with annoyance.
“Where are you transporting us to, Kakarot?” You asked, curious.
“My house? I’m using Gohan’s energy so wherever he is.”
You nodded, satisfied.
“Here we go!” Goku said, pressing two fingers to his forehead.
In an instant you were in Gohan’s room, the child sitting at his desk studying as you appeared.
“Hi, dad!” He cheered, not looking up from his books.
“Hey, kiddo! Why don’t you go play outside for a bit, okay?”
“You got it!” The little boy said, waving as you followed Goku to the front of the house.
“Thanks again for the snack, you two! I’ll stop by to train sometime!” He said, opening the front door and practically shoving you out.
Vegeta smirked as the door shut behind you. “Someone is a little antsy, it seems,” he chuckled.
“You think so?” You looked back to the house you’d just left and watched as Gohan’s window opened and he crawled out, running into the forest with childish glee.
Vegeta was eyeing you, waiting for his words to click with you. You thought for a moment and giggled. “Oh no, I bet he’s been dealing with that since he showed up to get us, huh? We should probably clear out,” you sighed.
“Nothing like visiting your sex den to make you horny,” he agreed, “do you want to get your things before we go?” Vegeta asked, lifting into the air and heading towards the small house you resided in on Goku’s property.
You followed behind him, desperately trying to remember the state your home had been in before you left. You were fairly certain that it was a disaster.
“Sure, but I should probably ask where you’re taking me?” You asked as your feet touched down in front of your tiny cottage.
“My house, I thought. Unless you disagree?” He raised an eyebrow at you, landing and leaning against the outer wall.
“I don’t disagree; I love sleepovers. Give me a minute, I’ll be right out,” you stepped inside the door trying to shut it behind you without letting him see the chaos that was your house, but he must’ve sensed your apprehension because he stuck his hand out and stopped the door from closing.
“You aren’t going to invite me in?” He asked with a smirk.
“I wasn’t really expecting company, don’t take it personally,” you retorted, trying a second time to close the door.
He pushed against it again and chuckled as he stepped into the doorway, “I’m coming in whether you want to let me or not.”
“No,” you groaned, using as much strength as you dared, “Vegeta, I’m serious.”
“I’ll try to keep that in mind,” he said simply, pushing the door open easily, crossing the threshold and taking in the space.
The room was illuminated by a large window on the right wall. The home was set up sort of like a tiny home, the main room housing a kitchen and living room with the bedroom lofted above them, while the bathroom had its own door off the kitchen wall.
The state of the place was best described as a war zone, dishes and cookbooks exploded onto every available space, spatters of whatever meal you had made stuck onto the kitchen countertops, cabinets, and walls. The living room wasn’t much better, dirty clothes strewn about and used dishes stacked in piles wherever they could fit. It smelled rotten, and you were sure the trash can was full.
You put your head in your hands, refusing to look at Vegeta as he looked around, any amusement that had been on his face was gone.
“How did it get like this?” He asked, genuine concern in his voice.
“I swear it wasn’t usually this bad – I had plans to clean it! I just didn’t know I was going to get stuck on another planet for a month before I left,” you said without looking up.
“It’s no wonder you like sleepovers,” he commented.
You cringed deeper into your hands before you heard the water start running. Your head shot up to see him in front of the sink, wetting a sponge.
“What do you think you’re doing, Vegeta?” You squeaked.
“What does it look like,” he grumbled, glaring.
“You don’t have to do that. I can clean up after myself.”
“Obviously not,” he snickered, “just shut up and open a window. It reeks in here.”
Your feet stayed planted to the ground, staring at him.
He turned to face you, scowling.
“What?” He asked.
“This is weird, Vegeta. What is going on? Why are you helping me?”
He scoffed, exasperated, “I just want to, woman! Is that not allowed?”
“No! I don’t understand why you want to!” You nearly shrieked.
“Because! I am- I- it’s like I’m under a goddamn spell!” He shouted back.
You paused, any rebuttal dying in your throat as you waited for him to explain.
“Ever since that first day I saw you, when we locked eyes, it’s been… magnetic. I woke up every morning wanting to see you, as much as I denied myself and pretended I didn’t. Since Kakarot stuck us on that cursed beach planet, it’s multiplied tenfold: my instincts have been screaming at me to… to have you. I want to talk to you, and fight with you… Hell, I want to hold you, and protect you, and my god I want to kiss you. All the time. More than anything else, I want you. I am better with you; I… need you..”
You stared at him, mouth hanging open in shock, speechless.
His face had turned a dazzling shade of scarlet from across his nose to the tips of his ears as he looked into your eyes. His jaw worked as he seemed to be arguing with himself over something internally.
You strode over to him and made up his mind for him, pressing your lips to his and closing your eyes as you sunk your fingers into his hair. His arms wrapped around you, holding you firmly to him.
Your mouths broke apart after a short time, but you stayed close to him, pressing your forehead to his. His breath tickled your face as you rested there. You were amazed at how far the pair of you had come since you had tried to confront him in the gym those weeks ago.
“I need you too, Vegeta,” you murmured.
He breathed a sigh of relief, his arms tightening their grip around you for a second before releasing you.
“Thank you,” he said, leaning back onto the kitchen counter.
“Of course,” you smiled, “though if you’re serious I won’t turn down free help,” you added, a hint of mischief in your voice.
“’Free’ is pushing it. I will collect payment in some way,” he replied, turning around to the sink once again with his own devious smile.
“Ah, always with the ulterior motives,” you said, bumping your hip into his as you reached into a drawer to get a rag.
“It’s how I was raised,” he smirked as he turned the faucet back on and began to wash the dishes.
The pair of you managed to return the cabin to proper order in a relatively short amount of time, splitting tasks easily as you had done in the beach house. The dishes were all cleaned and dry, floors swept, all surfaces wiped clear of debris, the trash taken out, the only remaining issue being a huge pile of untended laundry that sat in the corner of your room.
The cabin didn’t come equipped with a washer or dryer, so you usually used Chi-Chi’s when it was available, but that wasn’t an option right now, as you were not interested in barging into whatever Goku had kicked you out of the house for.
“Just bring your clothes to my place, I have laundry machines,” Vegeta called up to you from his spot on the freshly vacuumed couch.
You groaned, “It’s just such a chore to lug laundry there and back when I’ll be able to use the ones here tomorrow. I’ll just bring the stuff I’m going to wear and wash that.”
He snorted, “as if you’re actually going to come back here. I know you won’t sleep in an empty bed.”
“Um, presumptuous much? FYI, you snore. Also, I happen to likesleeping in my own bed,” you retorted, rifling through your pile for a specific outfit that you had in mind.
“If either of us snores it is most definitely you, but if you insist on keeping your things here, I won’t stop you.”
“Aww, but that means you want me to move in, huh? You could’ve just said so,” you teased, finally locating the desired articles of clothing and tossing them onto your bed.
Vegeta fumbled with his words, “I- you- that’s not what I said!”
You stuffed a few outfits and your childhood blanket into your bag, giggling.
“It’s what you meant, though. I’ll think about it, how about that?”
“Fine. Whatever you decide, I don’t care,” he huffed, but you could see the faint blush on his cheeks as you flew down to the ground floor.
You rolled your eyes at him and slipped into the bathroom to gather a few toiletries for your sleepover. You were starting to get excited; Vegeta had seen where you lived, it was your turn to see where he lived. You honestly weren’t sure what to expect, but hopefully it wasn’t completely spotless – you’d probably melt into the floor.
“Okay, I think I have everything. Ready to go?” You asked, propping yourself against the back of the couch.
“I was going to ask you before we leave, what is this machine?” He walked across the room and crouched in front of your stereo system, inspecting it with intrigue.
“How long have you been on Earth, again? It’s a CD player and a radio. These are speakers,” you joined him on the ground and pointed to each piece of equipment in turn.
He chuckled, “long enough. They’re for music, then?”
“Yeah, check out my collection!” You rotated to the CD tower you had beside your entertainment center.
For the short amount of time you had been on the planet, you had managed to build a large stockpile of music, many different artists, genres, even decades. You would buy CDs for one song and discover that the whole album was worth listening to, and then you’d collect every album from that artist, and it just grew from there.
You opened the glass door, and he peered inside to see your hoard.
“It’s quite the assortment. Do you have a favorite?”
“It’s so hard to choose – probably this one,” you slid out the case, examining the familiar cover.
“Can we listen to it later?”
“Of course!” You said with a smile, surprised at his enthusiasm but unwilling to question it.
He nodded and stood, extending a hand to pull you up from the floor. You took it and let him help you up, then shut the little cupboard.
“Let’s go, I’m dying to see what your house looks like.”
“Fine. Keep up, then.”
The flight to his house was boring but surprisingly scenic. You passed rolling hills and the winding river that flowed near Goku’s mountain home before the scenery shifted to a more urban type, roads and small cozy towns, the city skyline appearing over the edge of the horizon. You recalled that Bulma had told you he had a place near the city, though he had never mentioned it to you. Thinking about it, you couldn’t imagine why he would’ve chosen the city, he hated crowds and people, and it wasn’t particularly close to anyone else, but maybe that was the allure of it.
A quiet part of you worried that he had chosen a place he would hate on purpose; he had just been dumped for the first time and was dealing with general feelings of inadequacy, and you were almost certain that whatever money he had needed to secure the residence had come from Bulma, which for the proud Prince was just additional insult.
A few miles outside the city he suddenly banked, cutting through the air towards the ground. You followed him with curiosity; he landed on the balcony of a two-story home.
You were surprised at the suburban nature of the neighborhood – if you could call it that. The homes were separated by large swaths of lightly wooded land, his house being further away from the rest and farthest from the city. It stood at the top of a hill, a winding driveway, unassuming grey stucco exterior with dark accents, an enclosed backyard with…
“Is that a hot tub?” You squealed.
“Yes, it came with the house. I keep it maintained as part of my training regimen. It is rather helpful for stiffness.”
“Vegeta, we’re hot tubbing later,” you told him, leaving no room for argument.
He smirked, “fine.”
You grinned back at him, turning to the set of French doors that led inside, “okay, that’s settled. So, are you going to give me the tour or not?”
He nodded, pulling the door open for you and gesturing to the interior. A cool blast of air conditioning breezed through your hair as you crossed the threshold.
“Oh, gods, Vegeta, what the fuck?”
He chuckled darkly, stepping in and closing the door behind you.
The door led to his bedroom; his bedroom that was spotless. He’d been gone for a month and there was barely even dust on anything.
“Dude, your sheets are tucked! You have a fucking air freshener!”
He was grinning deviously even though you had called him “dude,” he despised nicknames.
“Are you going to survive going through the rest of the house?”
“No,” you groaned, burying your head in your hands, “I knew you were a neat freak; I had just hoped to catch you on an off week.”
He put his hand on your shoulder and kissed your cheek.
“I don’t have off weeks,” he whispered into your ear, his wicked smile sending a shiver down your spine.
He showed you the rest of his impeccable home, it was barrenly decorated, the furniture could be described as mainly utilitarian, but brutalist inspired in earthy tones, mostly grays of varying shades and some accenting browns and greens.
There were several unused bedrooms on both floors, the only room that seemed to receive any amount of regular use was Vegeta’s. Everything appeared to be new, the downstairs area even smelled new, his scent was barely present, as if he had only passed through, or it had been a long while since he spent any time there.
“Have you ever even used your kitchen?” You asked, admiring the pristine appliances and sparkling granite.
“No,” he didn’t elaborate.
You rolled your eyes and flicked the side of his head with your tail, “if I do move in, I will make sure you become at least somewhat self-sufficient. What have you been eating if you don’t cook?”
He waved your tail away and glared, “I’d go into the wilds and roast some beast over a fire, or I ate at Capsule Corp if I was using the gravity room. I am not helpless, you know.”
You blinked. “Oh,” was all you could say in response, “so, what do you want to do with the rest of our day?” You added.
He considered this for a moment, and you walked into the living room and plopped on the couch. You wanted to sit and answer all of the missed text messages you had received while on vacation, if you could call it that.
Vegeta followed you to the couch and sat beside you, still thinking. He absentmindedly caressed the soft fur of your tail, sitting close enough that his thigh brushed your own. This was probably the closest thing to a real cuddle you could get out of him. He was averse to the concept unless you were tangled up in bed together.
You turned yourself into the corner of the couch and rested your legs in Vegeta’s lap as you checked your messages. Bulma had blown up your phone while you were away. Goku had not told her what he had done; she and Chi-Chi both had had to find out from Goku where yourself and Vegeta were only after Bulma threatened to call the cops. Needless to say, neither woman was pleased to hear about it for their own reasons.
“Vegeta, is it okay if I call Bulma really quick? If not it’s no problem, it can wait.”
His eyes cut over to yours, trepidation hiding in his gaze.
“You’re going to tell her about us?” He said carefully.
“Well, not unless you don’t want me to, but I think we should. She will find out eventually. Kakarot has a big mouth, and I’d rather that she hears it from us than him. He probably won’t consider how the news might make her feel, or he’ll assume she already knows, which is also bad for us.”
“All this ‘we” and ‘us,’ do you expect me to talk to her?” He asked.
“No, I don’t expect you to, but we’re partners, like you said, meaning it’s our news to share,” you pointed out.
He still looked skeptical.
“Look, she’s my best friend and you’re my boyfriend, so I’d like the two of you to at least be cordial.”
“I am not good at ‘cordial.’ I can do tolerable, at best.”
“Hey, I’ll take that. ‘Tolerable’ is workable,” you said cheekily.
“Go ahead and call her then,” he grumbled.
“You’ll be alright?”
He rolled his eyes at you, “I will be fine, woman. She’s an ex-lover, not some world-ending threat.”
You grinned at him. He sunk further into the couch as you pulled up Bulma’s contact and pressed “call.”
The phone rang for about one second before she picked up, her voice ringing clearly through the quiet room.
“Holy shit, you’re finally home?”
“Yep! Goku just picked us up a couple of hours ago – have you got a minute to talk?”
“Well, duh! I’m clearing up my evening schedule for you, we’re definitely going out for drinks tonight so you can spill all the deets. It’s not every day you get to talk shit about your ex with somebody who was forced to live with him for a month. Meet me at our usual spot around 6:30?”
You cringed, locking eyes with Vegeta before replying. If he was hurt, he hid it well, the only emotion you could pick up from him was annoyance. You tried to make your expression questioning, asking for permission. He nodded once, the muscles in his jaw twitching.
“Uh, sure, Bulma! Before you go though, can I ask you something?” You braced yourself for however she would react.
“Of course, what’s up?”
“Well,” you paused for a split second, an idea sparking in your mind, “Can Vegeta come along?” You blurted.
“What?” Both Vegeta and Bulma exclaimed, in sync.
“Well, I wanted to tell you in person, but he and I are actually official now? If you want this to just be a girl’s night, I am totally cool with that, I just thought I’d ask,” you grinned deviously at Vegeta, who was scowling viciously.
“Oh! Congratulations, you two! Now, I would normally be mad that you didn’t ask me first, but seeing as you were on another planet with no cell service, I’m going to give you a pass this time. Does he actually want to come?”
“Well, I told him that since you’re my best friend he has to at least try to get along with you, if that’s alright.”
She laughed heartily before replying, “Well, tell him that I’m happy for you two and I don’t have any hard feelings. He’s welcome to come too, but now that you’re bringing a date then that means I’ve got to find someone to bring! I’ve gotta go, I’ll see you later. Congratulations, again!”
“Bye-eee!” The call ended with a beep.
“I do not seem to recall agreeing to that,” Vegeta said, voice low and dangerous.
You rolled your eyes at his theatrics. “The idea just came to me, I’m sorry! Besides, it’ll be fun! We can get drinks and greasy, delicious bar food, I’ll gossip while you brood, and then, when we get home, we can skinny dip in your hot tub and see where the rest of the night takes us.”
He pretended to consider that. You knew from the look on his face that he had already decided that the reward was worth the suffering, but his pride wouldn’t let him admit that he had been won over so easily.
“Fine, I will go,” he conceded.
“Yes!” You cheered, pumping a fist into the air.
“But” he interrupted your celebration, smirking, “With one condition.”
“Oh? What might that be?”
“Ask her to bring the dragon radar. I have an idea.” He said with a sly grin.
You cocked your head to one side. You did not trust that at all.
“That is not quite what I thought you were going to say, but I can do that.” You swirled your tail around his hand as you spoke, his fingers entwining with it.
He grinned and returned to the depths of the couch, closing his eyes. Weariness began to weigh heavy on your eyelids and a nap was starting to feel like the logical next move. You curled yourself into Vegeta’s side, his body heat comforting you as you drifted into a comfortable snooze.
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