#lady a

you cant begin to fathom how you got here, with your nails digging into your neighbors well-muscled back, legs trembling in ecstasy as they clench hard around his waist. you knew you’d had a big fight with your fiancé earlier. one that left your blood boiling and your face streaked with thick tears. so, naturally, you’d stormed over to the neighbors house in search of some alcohol and comfort. 

this is what you normally resorted to after a fight that your fiancé refused to apologize for. you’d even gone so far as to memorize the placement of the mosaic tiles in your backyard so you could navigate the dewy grass in the dark with ease.

comforting you was really all toji had planned to do. he’d seen you crossing the stone path in your backyard while doing his dishes, so he’d gone to open one of your favorite wines, which he learned to always kept in his fridge for this specific occasion, and poured a glass for you. when you get to the screen door, he’s already there with a lit joint in one hand and your wine in the other. 

briefly, his eyes scour your half naked body as he pulls a hit off his joint. obviously you were just out of a shower, probably getting ready for bed. nobody walks around in a skimpy pair of underwear and a t-shirt that fucking sheer, right? he can practically see your nipples through the fabric, hard from the cold air outside. 

despite all of this, he quickly redirects his attention and musters up a small smile, holding the glass of wine out to you and blowing his smoke out the corner of his mouth, “need to talk?” he coughs. 

toji always offers so much comfort, so much warmth, unlike the man you’d so blindly agreed to marry, so of course you immediately said yes. he stepped to the side and let you inside his home, following you to where you flopped onto his cushy sofa.  

toji always seems to take your side. mostly because he truly hates to see you so upset, but also because you're almost never in the wrong. your fiance was definetely a piece of shit, but he understood. you wanted his support, not to be told what to do, and he was mostly content with that.

as you cuddle up next to him on his couch, his chest starts to feel tight and his hands get a little clammy. the feelings you rouse from him only seem to frustrate him. had it really been that long? 

the conversation consists of you spilling your guts while toji listens, occasionally nodding his head, humming, or taking a hit from his joint. he lets you have a few pulls too, not being able to deny you when you give him a pathetic pout.

when you’ve finished up your little rant he leans over to place an oversized hand on your thigh, carefully brushing his thumb over the soft skin. 

“i’m sorry sweetheart.” he rasps, squeezing your skin, “you know he doesn’t deserve you.” it’s a simple sentiment, and the only one toji can think of in the moment, but it still makes you feel a little better, “i’ve been tellin' you, you should leave him.” 

your eyes meet his, still a bit bloodshot from your tears and the weed, “i wouldn’t have anywhere to go.” you sniffle, leaning in to rest your cheek on his chest. 

toji hums, shoving away silly notions of you doing your laundry with his instead. he’s even already got you baby sitting megumi. but he’s not gonna beg you to change your mind. toji pulls you closer to him and leans down to place what he tells himself is a strictly platonic kiss on your forehead. 

“alright, time for bed.” he grunts, scooping you up in his big arms and cradling you close to his chest. 

and then, the next thing you know, you’re in his bed helplessly grinding against his thigh like a bitch in heat.

after a few moments of silence, curled up in his comforter, he promised he’d help you feel better, that he’d treat you well, and that if you didn’t like it, if you felt guilty afterwards, you could leave and he wouldn’t bother you again. of course you trusted him, feeling like you had gotten to know him quite well over the past year. 

his large, thick, fingers grab onto the backside of your thighs, a sleazy grin spreading ‘cross his lips and drawing your attention to the rough callouses that run along his palms. they scratch against your soft flesh, a welcome reminder of just how hard he’s been working recently. 

you let your fingers fiddle with the strings on his sweatpants, slowly building up the courage to meekly whisper against his ear, “can i?” 

“‘course sweetheart.” his hands loosen their hold on your thighs and begin gently rubbing over your hips, “you take whatever you need.” 

“thank you.” you hum, taking ahold of the waistband before eagerly tugging the pants down his big legs. his sweatpants are pushed to the floor without a care. instead you focus your attention on the overly prominent tent in his boxers. 

the black fabric is thin, not really feeling like he’s wearing anything at all as you palm his already leaking cock, working him up until his hips are twitching and his lips are pressed thin. the headboard creaks as he sets himself up against his pillows.  

“cmon-“ toji growls, fisting the sheets roughly.

“sorry.” you smile up at him timidly before moving and peeling his underwear down as well. when they’re discarded and all you’re left with is the sight of his painfully hard cock, thick and a bit over average length, you start to feel a bit more cagy. would it even fit? 

nonetheless you raise up on your knees and slip your panties down your legs, kicking them off the edge of the bed. 

tojis eyes are fixed on the ceiling as you move to straddle him, grasping his dick and carefully lining him up, “you’re lucky you’re so goddamn- ah!- cute-“ a heavy breath makes his chest heave as the feeling of your warm gummy walls engulfing his cock fills his mind, “oh- shit that’s good.” he chokes, hands coming up and holding your hips even harder than he’d held your thighs. 

“it- it hurts.” you tell him past gritted teeth, hands settling firmly on his sturdy shoulders. 

“i know, it’ll get better just- just go at your pace you know?” his brows furrow as you sink down a bit more, trying your best to make him fit despite the achy burn in your thighs, “nice and slow.” it's not normally in his nature to be so forgiving. if you weren't so sensitive right now, toji might have a few different ideas in mind, but he can’t help it. he’s grown an overwhelming soft spot for you.  

after a few moments your legs start trembling and you really can’t take it anymore. you haven’t even taken him halfway yet and you’re already crying for him to “please help, s’ too big.” your voice shaky with hurt.  

toji sits up completely, grunting with the effort, and adjusts his hold on your body, “okay.” he prods his thumb against your lips until you stick your tongue out, coating the thick digit with saliva. at the same time he’s gently reassuring you with few soft kisses to your cheek, and rumbling, “loosen up for me sweetheart.”

his fat thumb presses against your clit and you shudder, grasping at his shoulder. noticing that you’re still holding yourself up on wavering legs, his free hand puts pressure on your hip, forcing you down as your soft walls stretch to his size.

once you’re finally seated, he smiles at you, cradling your cheek and brushing his thumb across your skin. the soft touch is surprising to you. for such a large, scary looking man toji sure does know how to be gentle. 

“feels so goood.” you huff, leaning forward to bury your face in his plump chest, nails scratching against his shoulders. he carefully gropes your ass and uses that leverage to pull your hips up, then down till your body is flush his his again. 

“mmm, yeah?” pride floods his chest as he again adjusts his stance, digging his heels into the mattress and carefully beginning to roll his hips upwards, “does he make you feel like this? hm?” 

“n-no!” you splutter, grip tightening on his broad back as the swollen head of his cock bullies against the corner of your cunt. you can't help but throb around his length, salivating at a kind of stretch you've never felt before.  

“what a shame.” his gaze softens and he begins repeatedly kissing your temple, “ngh~ angels like you deserve to feel s-soo good, all the time.” he groans, seeming the most genuine he’s ever been since you’d met him. 

“ah- toji.” your call is muffled by his skin but with the way he’s paying attention to you there’s absolutely no way he could have missed your voice.  

“what’s wrong honey?” 

"m’ gonna cum,” you huff, kissing his collarbone before resting your head against him, “can i please cum, please toji?” 

sweet and pitchy, your voice sounds so sweet in his ears. he immediately knows he can’t say no to you, especially not when you’ve been so sweet to him. 

“go ahead pretty girl.” he grins wickedly, fingers tightening on your hips, “make a mess for me.” 

shivers run up your spine as your abdomen clenches and your toes curl tightly. you collapse against the man in front of you, digging your nails into the back of his biceps as you cum all over his thighs and his previously freshly washed sheets. he could care less about the laundry though as the feeling of your velvety walls clenching sporadically with your orgasm practically overwhelms him. 

one of his hands comes up to pat your back in an attempt to soothe you and stop your crying. “i’ve got you.” he coos, the low grumble soothing you, “i promise, you’re alright baby.” 

“toji!” you squeal, legs tightening around his waist. as he was speaking, his opposite thumb began to circle your clit lazily. his fat thumb presses down cruelly and flicks back and forth. youre body shudders and before you know it you’re cumming again, this time even harder, your head spinning. 

“that’s my girl.” he grunts as your pussy seizes around his length, “oh- that’s- fuck that’s so good. gonna make me cum honey.” 

“please, please, toji.” you begin to beg him, putting the last of your energy into a few small bounces on his twitching dick, “want you to- ngh- want you to fill me up.” 

“are you sure?” his brow cocks up curiously, abs tensing with the effort of keeping himself from finishing.  

“yes, please, please-“ he grips your hair suddenly, pulling you away from his shoulder and tilting your head up slightly so he can mash his lips up against yours. his hips overtake your own, pap, pap, papping, against your ass as toji desperately chases his release.  

toji let’s out a raspy whine, a whine, into your mouth as he thrusts upwards for the last time, his warm cum coating your already sopping pussy. 

you fall, feeling completely spent and exhausted, beside him on the dry part of the sheets. it takes a moment before your vision fully focuses and your head clears. there’s still a dull, throbbing, ache between your thighs but you do your best to ignore it completely. 

you thought you might feel guilty, you thought you might want to cry and run back home and just never speak to the man beside you again. instead, much to your horror, you find yourself even more drawn to him. there's no achy hole in your chest, nothing you feel you could possibly need. as you watch toji roll deodorant on and stretch his arms, you begin to wander if this is how a marriage should feel.  

“can i get you anything?” toji asks, standing up slowly and searching his dresser for a clean pair of boxers. 

“i’m alright.” you tell him hoarsely, staring over the muscles rolling in his back as he sorts through his socks. 

“you need to drink something and i’m sure you want to at least take a bath.” he places one hand on his hip, taking in your response, before beckoning for you to sit up with his fingers, “come on, i’ll wash the sheets real quick too so we’re not sleeping on the dirty ones.” toji walks over to where you’re still laying on the mattress, a genuine smile spread across his cheeks. 

“we?” you cock a brow curiously. the way it so effortlessly slipped past his lips makes your heart thud against your chest. 

“well, unless you want to sleep in your room. or uh, go home.” he scratches the back of his neck, “i told you, you can leave if you feel bad.”

“i don’t feel bad,” you say, taking his hand and fiddling with his fingers, “it's just cute seeing you this worried."

“well, uhm,” tojis brow furrows uncomfortably and his smile falls as he tries to quickly explain himself, “aftercare is important and you’re clearly going through a lot right now.” it’s a flimsy excuse, he knows that, but he can’t bring himself to push you away. you’re the first person he’s felt such a genuine connection to for the longest time. while he might not be sure how  to really handle those feelings, and while that may be really frustrating, he knows being rude to you isn’t the way to go.  

“you’re really sweet toji.” 

“thanks.” he pecks your head and scoops you up off the bed, “c’mon, you’re a mess.” 

—————

“where’s ‘gumi?” your ears perk, listening for the usual sound of him spluttering playfully as he makes his toy cars crash together. there’s nothing though. the house is dead silent. 

“i peeked into his room this morning and he’s still passed out.” toji blows the last cloud of smoke from his lips out the open kitchen window before he pats the small joint out vigorously in his ashtray, “i took him to the zoo yesterday, he must be real tired.” 

“it has to be difficult, raising him all by yourself.” you muse, sipping on your coffee. 

“he’s definitely a brat sometimes, but i suppose i love him.” he turns off the stove with a soft ‘click’ and scoops the last pancake out of the pan. 

“you’re doing a great job,” you assure him, one hand coming to rest gently on his forearm, “he’s a great kid.” 

for the first time in years toji feels a genuine blush spread across his cheeks as he murmurs a soft, “thank you.” in response. it feels like flames are licking at the underside of his face with how powerful it is. he hasn’t had someone compliment him in so long, never mind with such sweet words, ones that actually mean something to him. 

“are you blushing toji?” you grin, leaning up to get a better look at his face, “oh?! it’s a fucking miracle!” 

“oh shut it.” he mutters, using his hand to shove your face away from his, ignoring your offended scoff as you stumble back into the counter. 

“it’s cute!” you splutter, gripping his wrist and moving his hand out of the way, “i think you look handsome when you blush. it’s very fitting.” 

the beginnings of a smile pull at tojis lips. his eyes crinkle and for a moment he looks like a truly happy father. you lean up and kiss the tip of his nose before simply resting your head on his chest and enjoying the warm morning. 

“hi dad-dy” the voice is cut off by a high-pitched yawn. the both of you look over and find little megumi, his black hair all mussed up from his sleep, rubbing his face. 

“morning ‘gumi.” toji greets his son by extending his hand, letting the young boy give him a low-five, “are you hungry?” megumi nods but his eyes, droopy and blue, are fixated solely on you and the lack of space between your cheek and his fathers chest. 

“daddy?” megumi scratches the back of his arm as he turns, makes his way to the table, and hops up in a chair. 

tojis already turned around, working on chopping up a pancake when he replies, “what’s up kiddo?” 

“why is she here?” he points a small, accusing finger at you, “did you have a sleep over again?” your unable to hold back a smile as you take another drink of your coffee. 

“yeah bud. you were already asleep.” toji sets the plate in front of megumi, the pancake all cut up and topped with a pat of butter and drizzled syrup, “here ya go. eat your breakfast and i’ll help you brush your teeth.” he ruffles his sons already messy hair. 

“m'kay.” megumi smiles and leans into his fathers rough touch. 

for a moment you watch them, your chest feeling all fuzzy and warm just from how happy they seem. a warm breeze flows through the kitchen window and rattles the screen door, but your attention is yanked away from the nice morning when your phone vibrates loudly against the granite counter top. knowing what it is, your heart sinks. you pick up your phone, dreading the talk that's coming. 

“don’t answer it.” toji tells you sternly, looking back at you over his shoulder. he softens his tone, following with, “not if you don’t want to.” 

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Pictures perfect memories

Scattered all around the floor

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It’s late when I unlock my apartment door. As soon as I open it, it is the darkness that welcomes me and not you.

At other times, you would have jumped from the couch to greet me, throwing your arms around my neck and kissing me all over my face. And even if I always complained about you being up late for me, I silently loved it.

Sometimes, when I returned at dawn, I found you asleep on the couch with a book open on your chest. Those times, you looked so peaceful sleeping that I didn't like the idea of waking you up.

That isn’t happening tonight, though.

You’re not on the couch. You’re not home.

And the worst part is that you said you are not coming back.

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Reaching for the phone cause

I can't fight it anymore

And I wonder if I ever cross your mind

For me, it happens all the time

---------------

Our love story started pretty close as a romantic movie would do. I bumped into you on my way out of a coffee shop. You were going to go inside but were distracted by your phone. You didn't see me coming out until you were stumbling, and before touching the ground, I secured you with my arms.

I was the one who apologized profusely, even if you were the one who didn't watch your way.

When I finally looked at you, words left me. And to hear your voice telling me not to worry didn't help my cause.

I would have asked for your number if I were bolder.

I didn't and let you go instead.

But luck must have been by my side when we crossed paths again.

The same coffee shop, two weeks later.

I got inside that morning and saw you at the counter waiting for your drink. I recognized you immediately.

Without a second thought, I walked up to you. Before I could say anything, you looked up and recognized me, too. A smile tugged your lips when you saw me.

“Hi,” I greeted you.

At that moment, I realized I had actually spoken to you. Why did I do that? What was I going to talk to you about?

“Hi. Glad you haven’t got a coffee yet,” you quipped. Making me stutter.

“Oh, no, no. I wasn’t thinking of spilling my coffee on you. I mean-” I stumbled over my words.

“Don’t freak out. I was joking,” you hastened to explain. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

“A joke. Yeah. Uh. I knew that,” I said, trying to sound casual.

Why was it so hard to sound casual?

“Yeah. I figured,” you chuckled. “Will you tell me your name this time?”

That day, my fate was sealed.

We exchanged phone numbers, and against the odds, I was the one who called first.

That was followed by text messages and some coffee dates.

We both were pleasantly surprised at how naturally the conversation flowed between us and how much fun we had together. Forgetting our first encounter where I couldn't stop stuttering, as the weeks went by, I relaxed enough to be myself.

I can recall the time I told you I loved you. I was a nervous wreck, and as the words left my mouth, I only wanted to take them back because I couldn't stand the idea of being rejected by you, of losing you.

You were the one who told me not to be afraid of telling the truth because you felt the same way. I can swear it was one of the best days of my life. A passionate kiss sealed our confession as we vowed to be each other forever.

Nothing of that remains now, though. And I know that the one to blame is no one but me.

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It's a quarter after one

I'm all alone, and I need you now

Said I wouldn't call, but I lost all control

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Why did things go down between us? We were perfect for each other. People told me that often, and I believed it, too.

After dating for over a year, I asked you to move in. I was excited to begin a new phase in our relationship, although you were a bit reluctant. Not for lack of love or wanting. You said you were head over heels for me, but you have been cautious about your love life. The last time you had a serious relationship, things ended pretty badly for you. That time, you swore not to go through something like that again, so you were careful about protecting yourself.

I knew that, too. You told me what happened to you a few months after we started dating. I swore I would never hurt you. I loved you, and I would never do anything to harm you.

I’m now sitting on the same couch where we spend so many movie nights. The same where truths were told, dreams were discussed, and we planned a future.

With a drink in my hand, I glance at my phone over the coffee table and feel the urge to hear your voice. I want to grab the device and dial your number even if you told me not to call you again, even if I agreed not to contact you again.

But I miss you, even if every day I tell the world I'm doing better and I will get over it.

The truth is I don't know how to do it without you.

I need you now.

---------------

And I need you now

And I don't know how I can do without

I just need you now

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Never did the silence overwhelm me as much as it does right now. It’s past midnight, and I can only think about what I should have done differently.

Maybe I should have opened up about what was happening before. You always knew I had a hard time expressing my feelings, but with you, that never was an issue. That’s why I can’t figure out why I did differently this time.

You told me I didn’t love you anymore, and that’s farther from the truth. I couldn’t stop loving you even if I tried.

Why did you say that, though?

Because I stop nurturing our love.

Because I took it for granted.

I made you doubt your worth and how important you are to me. I stopped listening. I stopped seeing. You gave me the signals, and I overlooked them.

Yeah, the job seemed more important at the time.

Of course, lives were on the line.

It's funny because none of that matters to me right now.

Missing you is something I never thought it could be a reality. How could I think about that when you were by my side to stay? Even the times I hurt you, you said you were to keep up no matter what. It was an unconditional love until it wasn’t. And I can’t blame you for leaving. It's all my doing, and I deserve to be alone. I deserve it, but I can’t stand it.

---------------

Another shot of whisky

Can't stop looking at the door

Wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before

And I wonder if I ever cross your mind

For me, it happens all the time

---------------

There are times when you think of me. I do think of you every day. When I wake up alone in my bed or when I drink my first coffee in the morning, you are not teasing me by pouring all the sugar from the container.

I think of you when I check my phone, and there are no texts from you. When at night I don’t want to go to bed because you are not with me to let me love you.

I can still hear your footsteps on the hardwood floor of this apartment.

I can recall, like yesterday, the times we danced in this very living room. The time you build a fort with cushions and blankets just because I told you once I loved that as a kid.

The nights when you let us watch foreign films so I could translate you whispering in your ear. The same nights when the movie ended were long forgotten because we were making out just like the first time.

I don’t think I can stop recounting every single memory we shared: the good ones and the bad ones.

Because, of course, I, too, remember the fights, the arguments, the silent treatments. But above all, the talks and our agreement of never going to sleep mad at each other.

---------------

It's a quarter after one

I'm a little drunk, and I need you now

Said I wouldn't call, but I lost all control

---------------

With the alcohol running in my blood now, I can’t stop thinking about if your affections belong to someone else now.

Of course, I can’t be mad or blame you for it.

But my heart aches when I think about it.

I know I lost you the moment I allowed you to walk out that door.

But the damn phone is still there, tempting me, pushing me to call you. Even if I don't know what I could tell you.

Or maybe I do: I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I fucked up. I love you. I miss you. I need you.

Would you believe me this time?

It’s wishful thinking. A naive one?

I don’t think any word I could say right now can do some repair to the pain I caused you. But I could try.

I grab the phone with trembling hands and start typing the first three numbers: 8-6-7...

I can do this so that I will continue: 5-3-0... just one more digit.

But I know you’ll not answer. And if you do, it’s unfair to you for me to do this. I should respect your wishes. It’s the bare minimum I can do.

So I toss the phone again over the coffee table, and the tears run freely this time.

---------------

And I need you now

And I don't know how I can do without

I just need you now

Guess I rather hurt than feel nothing at all

---------------

If anything, I feel jealous of the person who will love you the way you deserve and will call you his.

In the same way I did a time ago.

Maybe I just need to get used to the idea. I lost you, and there is nothing I can do even if I still need you here.

I had the privilege of you letting me love you, and I’ll be grateful for having the chance.

Curling on the couch, I see the damn phone watching me again, defiance me. I’ll not give in this time. I owe you that much.

I was so immersed in my new determination that I could barely register the two knocks on my front door. It’s past one am, so I just assume it must be on a neighbor's door.

But then I hear another two knocks again. It is louder this time and impossible to ignore.

Grumbling, I stood from my spot.

I already know who it is. Derek Morgan has been adamant about pulling me out of my misery in the way he only knows: going out.

I could pretend to be deaf and pretend I didn't hear anything. But I know Derek; he won't settle, and he will use his spare key to get in anyway.

I open the door, ready to scold him for showing up at my door at this time. But words kept stuck in my throat when I confirmed Derek was not the one who was standing at my door.

“Hi. I’m sorry for showing up here without warning. I guess I didn’t think this thoroughly.”

My mouth opens and closes several times with nothing to say. At the lack of words, you continues talking.

“I thought I should call you first. But I wasn’t sure if you would pick it up. But if it’s a bad moment, it’s okay; I can go.”

Does telepathy really exist? I don't know, but I don't want to question it either.

“No, no. It’s okay. Would you like to come in?”

Your face shows something similar to relief. A bit of anxiety, maybe? I’m sure I’m not doing better.

What kind of test is this? I don’t know, but if it is the last chance I’ll get to do things right, God helps me to doesn’t fuck up.

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A/N2: Bonus point if you know where her phone number comes from.

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