Toji x Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 |

The sight of him dressed in casual garb, hot under his clothes and staring right at her painted a strange picture.

It was both familiar and foreign in that forbidden way good things felt. He looked normal and wanting. Like a page had been stolen from Toji's future, maybe. Like a glance at a life he could've chosen.

He was prudent enough to avert his gaze for a second, still caught in the aftermath of their physical entanglement. But soon enough, his pupils had raised to chase hers again. One of his rare but easy smiles broke her out of her stupor.

She finally felt like speaking, even though picking just one thing to ask was hard. “What comes next?”

“You should be asking who comes next.” Toji grinned, before shaking his head at himself, an awkward half smile taking over the confident grimace. “...That's just a joke.”

Her hands smoothed her robes into place as she sighed, still a bit overexcited but also unimpressed with his dishonest response. He wasn't as sly as he thought. “Be serious.”

He grumbled across from her, arms flexing lightly as he shoved his hands into his pockets lamely. “I dunno. What do you feel like doing?” Toji's eyes shifted through his dark lashes in an unsuccessful show of nonchalance.

After a thoughtful pause, her words came firm and earnest, her bashful stance suddenly gone.

“I'm…curious. About touch. About it with you.”

Toji moved to sit on his sleeping mat, slowly and languidly, as if trying to coax her to follow. He even left a slight space next to him, an offer, a silent cue.

But she only moved when he patted the spot, carefully lowering herself next to his lap. Her head hung low as Toji's faint warmth made the situation all too real in her mind. “Are there consequences to this?”

She knew the answer. Still, what he replied left her oddly calm. Not because it was necessarily reliable, but because she thought it to be true in his mind.

“Yes. But only between us. And good ones.”

It was a surprisingly innocent response. Like consummating whatever it was that dangled in front of them couldn't possibly go wrong. She chuckled to herself.

The clansmen would probably never find out. And besides, it was common for the Zenin men to sleep with the servants they took a liking to. Some of the girls had even been especially picked and groomed to excel in those instances.

But she hadn't, and it left her uncertain. It was not a stretch to say that even though Toji wasn't highly thought of in their little hierarchical world, any servant was still several steps below, the last rung of the ladder. If he decided to chew her out for not doing what he wanted, he would be able to without as much as a passing glance.

Stepping into the intimacy of touching each other willingly could be dangerous. But still, despite it all, she trusted Toji in ways she had no solid explanation for. More than a decade by someone's side can do that to you.

And maybe it was that certainty, that sureness that he could never inflict real physical pain on her body, that caused her to reach for his and move her hand over his thigh. It felt hard and steady, even as it shifted under her palm, just barely.

He grumbled happily, pressing his face against the top of her head, rubbing into her scent. One big arm cradled her frame close, tilting her into his chest with eagerness. Her cheek met the curve of it thanks to the tight squeeze.

Her eyes wandered down his stomach, trying to verify if Toji was still hard. Her breath slowed as she confirmed it. It was even more thrilling and intimidating from up close. Her hand danced over the curve of his knee, then higher.

Toji tilted his head to meet her eye, their noses brushing just barely. “You can touch all you like.”

With his free hand, he covered the back of hers, leading it up unhurriedly. He watched her face just in case, scanning it with hawkish intent.

But no sort of resistance or disgust showed in her open face, instead, a glint in her eye beckoned him to keep going, even before a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth confirmed it.

He pushed her hand into the hardness of his lap, a soft moan cascading out of his parted lips in response to the delicious pressure. A deep satisfaction spread inside of his chest and stomach. The pleasure he had thought of so many times before was now real.

Her eyes travelled between their joined hands and his face, watching him with naked interest. The way he showed her how he probably stroked himself on his own made her whole body tingle. A restless, hungry part of her internally demanded to go under his bottoms, craving his bare skin.

As if hearing her thoughts, he lowered her hand just under the elastic of his waistband, eyes closed under his furrowed brow as she finally brushed against his length. Toji looked down to watch her fine wrist be enveloped by the opening of his sweatpants.

Under the fabric, she moved her hand. He let go of it, allowing her to move on her own. A light squeeze to his base, the ring of her fingers lifting towards the tip…

The girl thumbed over the head, exhaling a whine as the pad met a slight slickness. She longed to exploit every sensitive area, to make him keel over with just her body.

The cool, shifting air of the room collided against their heated skin. It made her skin prickle with a queasy wave of pleasure. “I don't want these in the way,” she rasped out.

Toji's eyes flicked open before the sentence finished. He moved quickly, his gaze heavy as he pushed all of it down in an impatient shove. His dick jumped, crowned by a light dusting of dark hair.

Her eyes fluttered as she acutely felt another jolt of desire swarming between her legs. All of him looked alluring and darkened by the thin paper of the sliding doors, which filtered any light that dared intrude into his space.

That extra shade emboldened every lick of desire, like a pardon for their wrongdoings. She stroked him slowly as they studied each other.

Her voice came hushed in the midst of hot kisses that lead her tongue to his teeth and one of his hands scaling up her ribcage. She panted it. “Am I doing it right?”

“Yes,” he whispered, before pausing. Toji angled his head just right before allowing a dribble of his spit to fall over her hand and the tip of him.

She sucked in a breath, looking at him for confirmation before palming the wet over all of his cock. Toji's hips tilted up into the motion as he groaned softly, head rolling backwards in a snap of his nape. “Ohh, shit…”

She nosed against his neck, kissing his Adam's apple and the dip of his throat as she flicked her wrist swiftly. She had thought of this too. It now felt like practice, an unknowing manner of training to get Toji off.

“It feels good for me too…” She crooned, and in seconds, Toji was mouthing at the seam of her lips again, spurred on by her words. He could feel her desire even without counting on her word. Her soft pants, how she stared and squeezed.

His hand, which had simply stroked her waist, shifted to squeeze one side of her chest. Impatiently, he shook her collar aside, groping her through her bra with insistence.

Her hand fumbled around his cock as Toji thumbed at her hardened nipples, long, teasing swipes. Her eyes fluttered, her frame shuddering forward. “Oh…fuck.”

He grunted out a snickering sound, weakened by the fact that she still was brushing her fingers against the underside of his length. Her breasts fit nicely in his palm, and their sensitivity made her mewl gently.

“So sweet,” he muttered lowly, sucking on her earlobe as he groped her carefully. His hand alternated between flicks and slow brushes against the peaks of her chest. “Let me suck on them.”

It wasn't long before she had shrugged off the top half of her kimono and her bra, exposing her chest to him, face flushed. She internally gave her thanks to the lowering sun, which dipped further into the horizon and dimmed the visibility of her body.

Toji watched with single-minded focus, hands flying to cup both breasts as he mouthed against her cleavage, looking at the woman now under him through his lashes. He took turns sucking each nipple in his mouth, tongue swirling loudly around them as his lids fluttered with pleasure.

He moaned into her chest as she moaned into his hair, pulling on it when he got too carried away sucking or forgot to watch the edge of his teeth. Unknowingly to her, it only heightened his need.

“Careful…let me please you too,” she managed to say as Toji finally slowed down on her chest.

“Yeah? I'm enjoying myself plenty right now,” he smirked, still squeezing and kissing her body unabashedly. “But I couldn't possibly reject your offer.”

He rose to his knees, which framed her body beneath, his hardness throbbing over her half covered stomach. His big hand gave his cock a couple of slow strokes, giving into that bit of relief he was craving. “You could do some sucking yourself, no?”

***

The first tangy taste of him made her moan around the tip, cheeks flaming as he caressed her hair, unclipping the broach he had gifted her to watch the tresses tumble down around her face. Toji sighed slowly, watching her mouth slide around his thickness with a shamelessly affected look. “Jesus…yes, like that. No teeth, okay?…”

His rough, fond murmurs had her slipping a hand down and under her clothes, tracing her wet heat as she sucked Toji off with dedication. Her tongue rubbed against the ridges on his underside, then around the crown between slurps.

It was obscene, point blank. It was exactly what the both of them wanted. The fact that she was touching herself while he was filling her mouth set him on fire. Another musky burst even leaked against her tongue, as if rewarding her obvious arousal.

“Fuck’s sake, girl. You suck me so well.” He pulled back a little and held his dick by the base, guiding it against her lips. Toji bit his lower lip as the girl suckled on the head with enthusiasm, moaning and holding his gaze unrepentantly.

After a particularly delightful slide of her lips, Toji gently guided her head off by the nape with a panicked sigh. “Alright now. Don't make this shorter than it needs to be.”

She grumbled petulantly, still teasing herself with one hand. “Why stop now?”

He watched her hand moving under her parted kimono with thinly veiled interest. “I'm not proposing we stop…just a small change, if you're up for it.”

“Hm?”

“You know…go all the way…” It took all of his restraint to say the words delicately instead of opting for his usually crude way of speaking.

Her eyebrows raised. “Ah. I see.”

His chest pressed against hers as he planted a playful kiss against her pursed mouth. “You thinking about it?”

Toji's hips were already unsubtly rolling into her thigh, and he bit back a smile while looking down at her, heated and hopeful. “Need you…I'll be careful and everything…”

A light laugh busted out of her, her arms around his waist. “Are you sure? I don't have experience.”

“Yeah, I'm sure.”

He said it like something obvious.

It was. It was.

***

His hips languidly pressed into her from behind, her plush rear rippling with each lingering thrust.

The first slide into her had taken a long period of trying and pausing, then repeating the cycle until he accommodated the first few inches. It was as hot as it had been frustrating, her angry face pressed against his crumpled sheets as she cursed him out.

“It's not working!,” she had grunted, hissing as his head pushed against her entrance. She clenched fitfully, making it harder for Toji to concentrate and slide further.

But they were victorious after that initial period of adjustment. Better than good, even.

Toji had chosen to go slowly, rolling his hips lazily as he gripped one of her breasts and kissed her nape insistently. His free hand either squeezed her ass or dipped lower to thumb along her slit.

He took great pleasure in nuzzling her upper back, her neck and hair as he moved unhurriedly. He laughed raggedly. “So nice and tight. You're squeezing me to death…”

Maybe that's why he made no move to speed up, and he instead let her revel on the hot, delicious new stretch between her legs, back arched to achieve just that. His heavy body kept her frozen in that bliss as he stuffed her lovingly with short, deep plunges.

“Mnnff…yes.” She panted when he began to pick up the pace after a long ten minutes of slow movements, slapping his hand away to touch herself as she pleased. “More, Toji,” she commanded breathlessly.

“Bossy, even now,” he chastised, trying and failing to sound disappointed. On top of that, he obeyed, grasping her hips and pushing into them a bit faster, a little harder. It wasn't only her that had grown impatient.

As nice as the leisurely pace felt, they both were itching to get rid of that seemingly bottomless pit of desire.

Their shared sounds rushed out louder at every slap of their hips and every squeeze of her around him. She stroked between her thighs along with Toji's movements, her own hips shifting up and down with haste, causing him to throb and moan and hurry too.

“I'm close,” he croaked out. It all seemed so urgent as he began to shake on top of her, also on the brink of orgasm. She arched her back deeply, face pressed into the covers as she cried out his name.

“Come. Come, Toji. I'm close too,” she whispered, one last brush of her hand against her heat before she was pulsing around him wildly, tighter than ever as she came. It was enough to force her lips open, a gasp turned groan escaping her parted mouth. “Aannm…”

Toji exploded, moaning into his hand as his hips chased the feeling. His thrust went sloppy and uncoordinated as he began to spill inside of her, eyes squeezing shut as he finished loudly against the palm of his hand, a dirty, muffled sound. “Mnnff!”

She gasped, her breathing rattled as she felt him finishing generously, filling her further. Her body kept drawing out the last drops of him as Toji slowed down, causing him to shudder in pleasure. She had gone still under him, except for the way her hands gripped his pillow.

He only pulled out when he became oversensitive in his softened state, dropping next to her with a loud sigh. Toji rubbed a big hand over his damp face, eyes shutting with finality while his chest heaved.

“That was nice,” she chimed half into the futon, completely spent and sated.

His head whipped to the side, drawing energy out of thin air just to reprimand her. “Just nice?”

She yawned noncommittally, then smiled into her arm, enjoying the state of peace that came post orgasming. “I'm not changing your sheets after this, I hope you're aware.”

Toji huffed out amusedly, pawing her firmly into his side, a soft contentment radiating from him. “That's okay. I can sleep with the smell of you just fine.”

Her nose wrinkled a bit. “Of sweat and cum too?”

He couldn't help but let out a hearty laugh, his face lighting up with surprised joy. “Yeah, sure. That too.”

She nuzzled into his neck, not caring about how damp and gross they were at that moment either, enjoying the feeling of his body instead. “Okay. Nasty man.”

Toji planted a soft kiss against the top of her head. “You made me this nasty…” He seemed happy to remind her of the fact. That they both had disheveled the other in a sort of sordid marriage.

“I've made you clean more than enough times before,” she mumbled into his chest, never too tired to argue.

He smirked. “Dont worry, honey. I'll ensure we make up for all those times, then.”

Toji x Servant Reader, part 2.

Part 1 | Part 3 |

A month had passed after that encroachment on their mostly uninvolved bond.

Although Toji wondered if that's all it had been after more than ten years of seeing her daily, of learning those parts of the other that nobody else knew about. The downturned line of her mouth when she was upset and tried to hide it, or how her steady composure would flank when he attempted a subtle compliment or a daring taunt.

The layers of complication and the concealment of anything frank still couldn't prevent some of that core earnestness from emerging time to time.

And something of the sort was happening more and more often after that first unpractical contact.

Her hands would linger more, and his eyes would ask her to stay for longer. He ate all his meals alongside her until his plate was empty, as she would get upset if he wasted food.

His baths were drawn out and careful, and whilst still timed reasonably and practical, they began to take place more often. Even his room seemed to have gotten less gloomy, lit up earlier by her insistent, responsible hands each morning.

Still, Toji Zenin had bad days. Some where he would simply attempt to sleep while the servant girl folded his clothes or slipped away to spend time with the kitchen staff.

He didn't like to think about it, but when she showed interest or any sense of closeness with anyone else, he felt uneasy. A mix of jealousy and envy, really.

That woman had both him and another separate world, which she surfed through without his knowledge. That's where she got the gossip she recounted to him, but never was there a piece about herself.

Had she any real close friendships? Even more than that? Did any of those people know more about her than he did? Toji had nothing like that. Just her and a family that looked down on him.

Rightfully so, he thought, before turning under the covers, a low grumble slithering out of his throat. Sure, some of the younger Zenin men admired his strength, but only in that naive way someone inexperienced could.

All the elders barely acknowledged him. The afterthought of the clan.

Quietly, the sliding door made way for a sliver of light to slice his face. She had come back.

“Miso soup for today, master.” She held the tray over his lap, letting him sit up before resting it across his thighs.

He sighed, shooting her a severe look. “No more master. You know it pisses me off.”

Her expression hardly shifted, but he sensed her incoming ill intent even before her mouth opened. “Hm…Sensei, then? Professor? Your majes-”

Toji cut her off with another noise of protest, rolling his dark eyes.

She huffed in response, rolling up her sleeves before shrugging. A bit of a flush had crawled over her cheeks. Perhaps the steam of the soup. “It's strange calling you just by your name. It feels bareboned.”

“That's pretty insulting.” He said, expression blank, although he didn't really mean it. He was actually enjoying the sight of her uncertainty. It was a nice change from the quiet confidence and easy humility he had to endure everyday.

That speck of vulnerability seemed like an opening. Not that he looked to exploit it immediately, but it was nice to know it existed. No such thing lasted long in the compound. Not without punishment, at least.

He took the bowl in his palms, slurping the soup loudly as he assessed her over the edge of it. With her forearms exposed, his gaze quickly found something to focus on. Something new. A bracelet…?

Toji put the now half empty dish down. He liked miso soup. What he did not like is not knowing stuff about her. Those gaps of knowledge itched at him like little invisible fleas under his clothes.

“What's that?” He pointed at her wrist, not waiting for an answer before his hand dove to tug her arm closer. It was a simple silver chain, of a nice luster and thickness. “You've got yourself a side gig? Another master? Or are those kitchen boys making more money than I supposed?”

She scoffed, slapping his hand away. Or attempting to, as Toji's hand merely squeezed gently in response, as if showing her how little that smack had affected him.

The girl shook her head. “I thought you didn't want me to call you that?”

“Master? Yeah, I don't like it. But it's what I am. So tell me now where you got this.” Toji's face had grown impassive, his eyes holding a subtle intensity that wasn't there before. The soup lay forgotten, cradled on his lap as he stared pointedly.

She let a slow smile, the teasing kind, curl up on her face. “Toji…are you perhaps jealous?”

He almost snorted, the way horses did when upset, with a shake of his head and everything. She really was getting bolder each day, and to his surprise, it caused an easy calm to bloom in him. She had actually just used his name. It garnered a pleased smirk from him. “There we go. I knew you could do it. Not so hard, is it?”

She grumbled to herself, looking down momentarily. He knew how to tease back. And it was an easy task to him, on top of it. Still, her eyes swiped up to meet his frankly. “One of the other clansmen gave me the bracelet as a tip for serving tea in the last ceremony.”

That smug satisfaction Toji had felt lasted until her sentence registered. His eyebrows raised, instead of furrowing, a light show of incredulity and sudden mock disinterest. “You've finally got yourself a boyfriend. About time. Your biological clock is ticking after all, girl.”

The way he said it, ‘girl’, and the mention of biology made her nose curl up in distaste. She let his words marinate inside his head for a beat before replying.

“Do you think I should've rejected the gesture? That would've been a noble last action, no? Before getting my head sliced clean off.”

Toji made an exasperated sound, although internally, a part of him conceded. It would've a dangerous thing to say no to. “...Next time, you tell him you can only receive gifts from me.”

She shifted in place. The stupid possessiveness, so male, so brutish, actually made her feel good, despite knowing better. One small instance in which she fully belonged. Was it ideal that it was Toji who owned that aspect of her? No. But it didn't persuade her chest from lightening. “Fine. I will.”

The man pushed the tray aside carelessly, yanking on her arm again until she was half draped across his chest. He struggled with the clasp, almost going crosseyed before successfully tossing the bracelet off and away into a corner. He grinned at her, victorious in his pettiness.

An unamused glare is what he was met with. Narrowed eyes, a tight line for a mouth. “I liked that bracelet, you know,” she rasped out angrily.

Toji shrugged, letting go of her to place his arms behind his head. “Of course you do. It's the first shiny thing a little mouse like you has seen in her life.”

“No. It's the first nice thing I've owned.” A wistful look crossed her face. ”...One can't just live by watching.” She corrected, pushing off his chest with a strict look.

Toji made a face. He had possibly hit a nerve. “Gee, sorry.”

“I don't forgive you,” was her simple response.

Toji sat up, arching a brow, interest piqued. “Oh? And what should I do to earn your pardon?”

“Get me something nice like that. If you can.”

And that last bit got to Toji hard and fully, his inferiority complex lighting up like Christmas lights at the implication.

“Of course I can.” An immediate response.

“I look forward to it, then.”

***

He fiddled with the small coin purse in his sweatpants, walking into a small market at the edges of the town closest to the compound. It wasn't hard for Toji to slip away whenever he wanted. Nobody would notice out of his numerous clan comrades.

Besides, he hadn't even had any reason to wander off into regular non-sorcerer society lately. It had been a long couple of years since he'd done this. But he had a goal now, a small purpose.

Get the girl something nice.

He had woken up with a certain spark behind his eye that morning, slurping up his breakfast with vigor before notifying her that he'd be out for the evening. Toji smirked to himself. Would she guess what he was doing?

He had kept his sleeping clothes on instead of changing into a stiff yukata, knowing it would draw too much attention. He had gone over his plan carefully, as simple as it was.

Toji hummed to himself as he finally reached the first stalls. Just as he remembered them from his youth.

***

He returned on the sly, slipping through the connected stations of the residential building until he reached his sleeping area.

There, he patiently waited until dinnertime rolled around, drumming his finger against his thigh as his free hand fiddled with the small paper package. It was a light purple, with hand drawn flowers scribbled across the wrapper.

He thought about the effort it must've taken to decorate, only for it to inevitably be ripped apart.

Toji jolted as the shoji panel slid open gently. There she was, holding his dinner tray, eyes flickering with recognition as she found him there. “I didn't know if you'd be back by dinner time…”

He stood, a bright grin crossing his face. His fist almost squeezed the small gift with excitement. “Just took a little while.”

“What did? Where'd you go?” Her eyes were wide with earnest curiosity, and they seemed close to popping out as he extended his palm towards her.

“Here.”

She set the tray aside, moving quickly to take the item. Her fingers picked the paper open without a tear, as she pulled the contents of it out with eagerness.

It was a silver broach, shiny and shaped like thin petals. She turned it around in her hands, the glimmer of it catching her attention and causing her awe. “Woah…” she whispered softly.

Toji's smirk softened, more of a shifting smile. “It's for your hair. Since you always have to wear it up.”

Her hands moved quickly, one of them shoving the lilac paper between her layers of clothing while the other hurriedly undid the twist of her bun, letting it fall down in a swirl of movement. It looked slightly messy and uneven at the ends. But soft. Very soft.

He reached forward, playing with a strand as he tilted his head to the side. He radiated a controlled contentment, a little smug. “This is certainly new…”

She shrunk under his gaze, lowering her eyes, but held her place in front of him. A heat blossomed under the skin of her face, rendering her cheeks rosy.

His thumb grazed the side of her neck as he let his fingers comb through another lock. His dark pupils waltzed across her features with satisfaction. “Not even gonna say thank you? Quiet little thing.”

“I'm not a thing.” She exhaled, trying to seem exasperated instead of embarrassed. A nod. “Thank you, Toji…”

“So I've earned your forgiveness?”

“Hm. Sure.”

“Just sure? You're impossible…” he grumbled.

And she grinned softly, both hands moving behind her head to fasten the clip around the shiny rope of her hair. “I like it. I really do.”

“Yeah? Let me see.”

He manually spun her around, appraisingly humming as he inspected the back of her head.

She stood perfectly still, as if the search was something very serious indeed.

Then his nose sunk into the side of her head, breathing in her scent, and it dawned on her that it was all a big excuse. She shivered, his big hands still on her upper arms. “Oi…”

“Hm? I'm just checking how it looks…” he grinned against her nape, rubbing his nose against the thin tendrils that had escaped her bun.

“With your nose, master?” She replied, her eyes fluttering shut as his breath brushed her nape.

“Yep.” Toji murmured shamelessly, caressing her shoulders lightly. If she wanted to, she could pull away with ease, he reasoned. “Very pretty.”

“Is this massage part of your apology?”

He shrugged. “If you want it to be. I'm open to requests.”

Big mistake.

“Requests? Really?”

***

She stood happily behind him, scissors in hand, clipping away at any stray long locks. The feeling of chopping off his thick hair was so satisfying, that in her enthusiasm, she had gotten very slightly carried away.

Just a little more…

When she circled him to trim his bangs, her hand flicked away rapidly, enjoying the repetitive labor and the search for evenness.

But getting the strands to lay at the same length proved difficult enough, with each chop promising further symmetry.

That's how she ended up with a straight line across Toji's forehead, a good couple of inches over his eyebrows.

Her mouth stretched into a panicked expression. It looked worse than before! Much worse. It was bordering on a bowl cut.

Toji's eyes finally opened, and what greeted him was that strange face she was making. “Um. My forehead feels cold.” He patted a hand over it, grunting out her name as he found that half of what had curtained his face was now gone. “What the hell did you do?!”

She jumped away, scissors still dangling from her thumb. “Oh…well. It's strategic. So you won't have to cut it again for a couple of months.” She stammered, trying to give him a confident look, which to Toji read more like a grimace as she tried to suppress a bark of laughter.

Her hand flew up to cover her mouth as she spluttered into her palm, a muffled, elated sound. “It’s just a bit short…”

Toji groaned, ruffling his own hair in an attempt to remedy the unfortunate haircut. He stood in front of the bath mirror after a couple of hurried strides, his mouth opened in an agonized look.

He knew he was handsome. Big, strong and handsome. But now that component of his few redeeming qualities was being put to the test. “I look fucking stupid.”

She shook her head, still halfway through a laugh. “No, master. Looks proper. Very neat.”

He turned around to glare, his eyes two vengeful slits. “I got you a gift and this is how you repay me…”

A giggle bubbled out of her, her hands grasping her tummy through her sash as she bent at the waist. “I didn't do it on purpose…! I'll requite. I promise!”

Toji grumbled, shaking his head. His anger was now tinged with something fond. “Yes. You certainly will.”

She straightened, laughter fading into a small smile, still a bit amused. “I apologize, master. Just tell me how to remedy this.”

“I'll show you instead.”

Her serene expression didn't change as he lifted her up and held her body against his, their faces inches apart. What's more, she tutted. “Pervert.”

Toji shook her in place as if trying to rock the defiance out of her, his fingers clasping around her waist. “Stop whining. This is your own damn fault for making me look like an idiot.”

The woman sighed, her head bobbing around as he kept thrashing her against his broad chest. “You still look good. It's just a haircut. It doesn't change anything that much.”

“I look good? Do you mean it or are you afraid I'll stick your head in the toilet?”

She knew he wouldn't do something like that. It wasn't the first or last time she would piss Toji off, and he never had inflicted any real damage onto her. The most he had done was tug on her hair when they were young and he was frustrated.

“You look good. I'm being honest,” was her firm reply, not an ounce of playfulness on her tone.

“Good enough to kiss?” Toji ventured seriously, his face just as stony.

Her breath shuddered faintly, and she couldn't help but shift in place, her chest brushing against his. “Master Toji...”

“Answer me, woman. It's the least you could do.” His gaze was piercing and steady, nothing one could squirm their way out of.

She consciously evened her breath before replying. “Yes, master Toji.”

His chest expanded under hers. He felt…pleasure. And relief. Slowly, his face moved closer, eyes darting down to drink in the sight of her mouth unabashedly. “Then do it.” He rasped out gruffly.

Her lips brushed against his with uncertainty, eyes squeezing shut. A life of servitude never really allowed her any time to practice something like kissing. Something she had thought trivial and silly until that moment.

It caused him to chuckle against her mouth. “Am I really that disgusting? Try a little harder. That's the saddest kiss I've ever-”

Her lips pressed against his firmly, allowing them to part and lock warmly. A soft sigh brushed out of her nose at the feeling. It was like a wonderful dessert, foreign and hot, had exploded in her mouth.

Toji groaned, hands moving to grip the underside of her thighs, as he shifted back to allow the tilt of her frame to drape over his, like a blissful, warm veil. Her body shuddered and breathed beautifully, a natural dance he had managed to pull out of her. It made his body hot and his heart stutter.

She was trying with both care and eagerness to deliver a good kiss. In the process, her tongue had slivered against the seam of his mouth, drawing out a simultaneous moan from them both. Her arms had wrapped around his neck at some point, between attempt and attempt, her body arched into his like a sensuous bracket.

It was a long kiss, long enough for Toji's legs to begin burning as he stood with her torso curled around his. Though he only noticed the slight discomfort when they pulled away, breathing a bit messed up, uneven and mingling in the few inches of separation between their faces.

He let her slide down his front, her feet finally resettling on the floor. His hands brushed up her sides to cup her cheeks, feeling their weight and warmth. His mirthful eyes glinted down at her fondly before his mouth was on her skin again, this time on her cheeks, the corner of her mouth, under her jaw…

A breathy sound escaped her as he assaulted the exposed skin over her collar, also meeting the skin under her ear and then back to her cheekbone. It was overwhelming and delicious, pushing her mind into a haze of need. It grew in her lower stomach, like an ache of hot delight.

Her hands brushed up his forearms, squeezing his arms on their way to his broad chest. He hadn't changed into his yukata, which allowed her a feel of his body with only one layer of thin cotton in the way. She moaned through her nose, her lips busy under her own teeth as she lost her remaining composure by the minute.

Toji pushed closer, his breathing equally fucked as he tried getting her closer, even closer than flush. He didn't know if she could feel the strain in the front of his sweatpants through her kimono, but he couldn't manage to follow the train of thought, too overcome by anything but logic.

The question he hadn't gotten to complete in his head was answered soon enough, though, as she pulled back a little to catch her breath. Her downturned eyes were met with the ridge of him, obvious through his pants. Her eyebrows raised up, higher than she thought they could go.

“Oh, wow.” She blurted it out without thought, knowing she wouldn't have been able to come up with something better even if she had had the time to think it through.

“Heh. Well,” he rasped out, a bit unsure himself as he adjusted his hard-on over the fabric.

That quick touch made something darken in her eyes. It wasn't as if he had touched himself for pleasure, but the sight felt filthy nonetheless.

She found she couldn't peel her eyes away. She found she was expecting him to keep going, to stroke that stiffness that made her thighs clench on instinct.

Toji x Servant Reader, part 1.

Part 2 | Part 3

Toji is bored.

Toji Zenin had been bored for a very long time. Years, if his memory, which was as sharp as an old hare, served him right.

He had been staring at the sliding door across his tatami mat for around two hours. The thought of breakfast made him feel as if a slug were traveling up his esophagus, blocking any sort of possible desire for a meal.

Maybe it wasn't two hours. Perhaps only minutes had passed, or days.

What mattered was that since he was too bored to get up and join the rest of the clansmen for each meal, he had lost track of time. Probably two days, at most.

And he had sent his servant away. That's what he thought of as she slid the door open with a firm thwack. Her brow was furrowed already, but the crease in her forehead deepened at the sight of him.

In a matter of minutes, the curtains had been drawn and the windows opened. And so a real day seemed to begin.

“Could you stop it, you hag? I thought I’d told you to wait until I called for you.” He groaned loudly, covering his face with a thick forearm.

“No, master Toji. I think that's not wise at all. It's very much past noon. And the room smells strange.” She buzzed around his place on the floor, picking up the few scattered dirty articles of clothing that littered the rug.

Her face was pinched with a certain expression Toji couldn't make out through the gap between his forehead and his arm. It was a small window he dreaded to open. If he did, she would see his blanched face, the gaunt hollow under his eyes.

“It's bath day, after all,” the young woman chimed casually, collecting everything she didn't approve of into her basket, held over her hip with ease. Then began the sweeping, quick, practiced slides of her broom that gathered mostly dust.

The sight was oddly comforting, although the feeling battled with the annoyance of having his day long nap cut short.

Toji shifted on top of his futon, flopping to lay on his stomach, frowning quietly for once. It hadn't been that long since his last bath. Only the couple of days he had sent her away. Or something like that. He mentally shrugged.

“...Whatever. The water better be hot.”

He usually protested, telling her off and insisting that he wasn't like the rest of the pampered men of the compound, that he'd bathe himself, but on that day, he couldn't find the vigor to do so.

She nodded quietly. The girl had been her servant since their youth, an orphan that was abandoned at the entrance of the Zenin compound. She knew Toji well, how little he mattered to his clan, his lack of cursed energy, his bouts of anger and the following slumps of energy.

“Surely. It must be so we can scrape all the gunk off you. Master.” The title was added after a pregnant pause, almost taunting.

For all his staggering strength and anger, Toji simply sighed dramatically at her insolent comment. He was plenty used to them after all those years. She had stumbled into clan life when she was ten and he was twelve.

She knew when to prod and poke after devoting more than half of her life to serving. Her straightest posture and deepest bows were reserved for the rest of the powerful Zenin men. The treatment Toji received from her could be described as something more…raw.

Just like his back felt as she scrubbed it with eagerness, rendering the scalding water surrounding Toji's nakedness a murky, greyish soup. He almost felt embarrassed. How did he get so dirty in just a couple of days when he barely got up at all lately?

His hair, and most of his face, were covered in shampoo as he tried to speak.

“Are you trying to skin me alive via sponge, woman?” Toji grunted through the scrapes.

“No,” she chimed simply, humming to herself as she massaged the shampoo in between his greasy strands next. Her long nails scraped his dirty scalp in careful scratches.

Toji's eyes fluttered shut. It was strange, all the warmth and contact and the dark behind his eyelids. It made his boredom flicker, like a lit candle withering in a damp room.

Then rinsing came, in careful streams of water over his dark head, rendering him clean and seeing. When the suds washed away, he found himself suddenly back in his place in the world.

Every nap and blink he took seemed much too short for his liking, as if no darkness was black and deep enough for his half-lidded eyes.

But as his eyes refocused, they found her. Even in her roughness, she was gentle with him, as she soaped up his feet and swirled her thumbs between his toes. It tickled a little through the callouses, making him twitch subtly under the water.

"I have to cut these long claws as well, master." Her voice was quiet and subtly fond.

He huffed through his nose, something adjacent to a laugh. The soap she had picked was a new, green scent, which made something in his chest unknot, or maybe it was the fact that she noticed stupid things like his toenails growing too much.

“Yeah, yeah. I'll rip up the sheets otherwise.”

"You're...leaner, master." She said cautiously, not meeting his gaze as she worked the clipper over each toe.

Toji stilled. Her words felt like a flick to the nose. Not really aggressive, but painful nonetheless, in that stinging way that lingers through numbing balms as a slit is being stitched together.

“I guess.” He grunted, watching the little half-moons fly off his toes after every snip.

He hadn't felt hungry lately. It was as simple as that. He didn't care. And nobody should, is what he thought. What good was being sturdy and strong from eating and training if that still wouldn't grant him even a smidge of cursed energy?

It was dumb strength. No missions for him, or a lasting glance in his direction.

So he slept late, and ate too little for his size. Big deal. Big fucking deal.

She looked up at him, a trickle of worry shining through. "Are the meals not to your liking?”

He looked to the side, brow tense as his jaw worked, as if he had to chew up the answer before delivering it.

“It's good. It's fine.”

A stony silence from her, gaze piercing.

"I will start bringing the meals to your room, master. It'll be more practical that way."

Toji didn't miss how she wasn't asking. It was an assertion. He opened his mouth to tell her off, or to yell, even to scoff weakly. But he didn't.

Instead, he nodded, thoughtless.

She washed his hair for too long, soaped him up more carefully than usual...

When the water got lukewarm, she wrapped him tightly in three different towels.

She knew he didn't like being assisted in dressing himself, so after bathing him, she bowed deeply.

"You know to call whenever you nee-”

His hand flew out from between the sweet smelling towels, catching her shoulder, preventing her bow.

His gaze was full of something, something that had gone amiss a long time ago. It had reared its head for that share of a moment.

"...Stay."

A quiet command. Maybe too soft to be one.

She simply nodded, pinned in place by his hand, knowing that she'd stay even if his palm weren't stopping her from leaving.

His thumb moved over her sleeve as he let go of her. He had already turned to paw at his arm with one of the towels, drying one of his arms unenthusiastically before dropping onto the corner of his futon, where she had found him an hour before.

She cleaned and mopped the bathroom, wicking away the dampness and picking up his dirty sleeping clothes.

When she returned to his side, he was still there, sitting.

She tucked away the dirty pajamas inside her basket and knelt near Toji, tucking her hands together. Her eyes were firm on him.

"There's this new servant. He was convinced he had fallen for one of the kitchen staff members until he was informed Hiroshi-san was a male.”

Toji's eyebrows raised, then his mouth twitched up. He wasn't one for gossip, but having someone's full attention made him want to react.

Besides, it was funny, in that human, pathetic way. A male servant falling for another thinking he was a woman.

He didn't know for sure what servant she was referring to, but his guess was one of the young guys in the kitchen, soft-spoken and timid. Toji scoffed.

“Idiot. Couldn't he check before deciding he was head over heels?”

His words were sure, but unburdened by any real disdain.

"In his defense, Hiroshi's hair has grown past his shoulders. And he's usually on the other side of the counter." She argued with a small smile.

Toji glanced at her, really looking, for the first time since she’d knelt by him. That tiny smile of hers was rare. Quiet, but certain.

"Still an idiot," Toji said again, "But... I guess I can see it," he admitted begrudgingly.

Her small smile shed to become something like a conniving smirk instead. Her casual tone was still betrayed by the eager flint in her eyes.

"Ah, do you think Hiroshi-san is pretty as well, master?”

Toji almost spluttered, eyes narrowing hotly at her. His voice lowered into a grunt.

“Pretty? The hell are you asking me here?”

The question ended as an irritated bark, the man's expression scrunched up in irritation. He obviously didn't think the boy was pretty. He barely registered the guy in the first place.

The woman let out a hum, which almost stumbled into a giggle as the sound died.

"Right. My apologies, master.”

Toji sighed through his nose, his tight expression easing into a slightly annoyed one. The aborted laughter had caught him off guard. If she wasn't so tightly laced, it would've been a cute laugh.

“Whatever…” Toji shrugged, replying through his teeth.

"Shall I refresh your tatami while you get dressed, master?” Her tone came softer after her taunt, although he knew she wouldn't accept a no for an answer.

“Sure.”

Toji stood slowly, the towels peeling off his body as he reached for a clean yukata, sliding it on one layer at a time, half concealed by the dressing screen in the corner. He didn't feel the need to hide. She had just bathed him, after all.

He watched her turn the futon over in place, then swing it up and down to dust it.

She gathered the dirty sheets into what little space remained in her basket before draping fresh ones over the mat.

"Much better..." She muttered, sounding content.

Toji emerged clad in fresh clothes, his hair still dripping, smelling of cedar. He watched her fuss over each corner of his sheets and blankets, pulling each layer taut so they would sit straight over the one under it.

No one else would bother doing this. The other servants changed linens biweekly or whenever asked to. But she came every few days to adjust and renew anything she could.

The room looked and smelled better.

"Will you sit, master?" She had procured a towel in a split moment, looking at him expectantly.

There it was again. That unfaltering attention. His eyes flicked between her face and the towel, and he returned to his spot on top of the sheets, slumping in place as he curled a leg under the other. He looked smaller that way, unencumbered by his usual layer of caginess.

The damp ends of his hair still clung slightly to his neck from the bathwater. But they were soon enveloped, along with most of his head, with the soft towel, warm from being pressed against her bosom and smelling faintly of her.

She fingered the cloth into his dark strands, wicking away the heavy drops that had begun to be absorbed by the shoulders of his yukata. It wasn't often that she toweled his hair dry, it occurred to him. But he didn't stop her.

A slow breath purred through his chest as the sweet smell brushed against his nose, his cheeks. A kiss of linen. He opened his eyes, watching the fabric shift white and even in front of his face, and for some reason, it made him smile.

When she retrieved the towel, Toji found himself blinking away the little hot slivers of wet that his eyelids had cradled without his knowledge. Weird.

Their gazes met.

He didn't feel unreadable anymore. In that quiet fragment, he had unknowingly handed her something private. Something his only. And it made him uneasy to think what she would do with it.

He blinked, and felt at the same time the soft-rough texture of the wipe brushing over his eyebrow. She was cleaning his face closely, her own hovering over it as she watched for any spot in need of cleaning.

The cloth dragged against his cheeks, in lingering swipes that carried up to his forehead and then dropped to his chin. The dance ended at the corner of his mouth, where she polished the scar crossing his lip tenderly.

There was no rigidness to her motion, not a trace of her composed rhythm in serving. It didn't really make sense if the purpose was to clean or dry.

She smiled to herself as she retrieved her covered touch, folding the soiled item amongst the rest she had collected. That smile again. A private thing.

Toji stood. It caused her idle actions to halt and her small enthusiasm to fade, her smart eyes dragging up in order to scan their master.

He lumbered closer, his face dark and deathly serious.

Then, he dropped his heavy head onto her shoulder with a weary sigh.

She froze, arms raising and then remaining as still as oak branches. After a few seconds, she spoke. “What shall I do, master?”

Toji huffed, feeling flustered and angry, and in a fit of caprice, he grabbed one of her hands and dropped it on top of his head without a word.

The woman sucked in a breath, then she hummed. Her bare fingers brushed over his nape very gently, tracing the warm skin interrupted by the outgrown black locks. She had no towel to act as a barrier to her touch this time.

With her free hand, she held his back without much pressure, as if fearing Toji would change his mind halfway and slap it away.

But he didn't. What's more, he opted for slumping into her frame, his weight enough to make her stumble back.

Yes, he had lost weight, but not enough to render him suddenly light. She grunted quietly, eyes widening as her feet scrambled for purchase, holding him tighter than before instead of letting him go.

Almond shaped nails raked through Toji's hair, making his breath exit him in the form of a pleased creak. Then fingers massaged his scalp and back in seemingly neverending circles, causing his pupils to twirl behind his eyelids.

His face dug further into the crook of her neck, making the woman stiffen slightly, her breath stuttering before returning to its usual pace.

“Your hair has grown messy, master.” She whispered. So close to his ear, he almost sighed. “I shall cut it soon.”

Mammon X Reader

Your thumb traced the slope of his nose. 

“What? Dirt on my face?” Mammon asked, eyes crossing in an attempt to get a look at what was the reason for your touch. 

“Yeah. You're always filthy.” You smiled, pinching the bridge of it, right below where his sunglasses often sat.

“Ow. Watch it!” He growled weakly, huffing but not pulling away. As if he even could.

You merely tilted your head, smiling crookedly, a turn of your mouth. “No.”

“This is so unfair.” He complained, sounding nasal because of the clamp of your fingers.

It only made your amusement grow. “It isn't. You're just a crybaby.”

As if proving you right, he whined lamely, rocking in place, his arms tightly pressed against his sides. “Noo…You're just a bully…”

“You know, I've never asked you this…” You stepped back, admiring the sight of Mammon hanging from the ceiling, thick rope wrapped around his torso in a strict embrace. “Doesn't your blood go to your head when Lucifer leaves you like this?”

You watched him spin on the spot, just barely, the way a spider dangles from its web, casual by now, used to it. He tried to shrug, but then again, the restraints were snug to his frame. “Eh. I can take it. Demons are built out of more resilient stuff than frail little humans.”

You arched a brow, unimpressed. “Hm. That's funny. Is that why you beg me to help you down every time? Cause I'm so small and meager?”

Your hand gave his hanging form a quick tug, making Mammon twirl uncomfortably like a spinning top. He groaned loudly, squirming further. “Hey! No! Yer just as bad as Lucifer!”

Your mouth spread into a little grin, imagining he was dizzy by now, or at least a bit woozy. The circulatory system of a demon was a mystery to you, but you figured it must be somehow similar to a human’s. “I wouldn't go through all the trouble of doing this to you. But that doesn't mean I don't enjoy this.”

Mammon whined, lip jutting out defeatedly. “You wouldn't even tie me up? You'd just torment me like a cat with a mouse? I'm no mouse!” He protested, eyes narrowed into deep blue slits. But his discontent never felt like anything beyond the complaints of an ill-mannered child. You offered a quick pinch to his cheek.

“Then stop squeaking like one…” You retorted fondly, sitting back near him, brushing some hair away from his face. A soft chuckle left your lips as you were reminded of a movie series from the human world. A trilogy of superhero flicks. “Do you you know who Manspider is, Mammon?”

He looked up (or down?) at you with curiosity. “Mm. That weird guy from the movies that shoots stringy goo like spiders?” You huffed at his description. He made it sound so much lamer than it really was... 

“Sure. If you want to put it that way.” One of your hands slipped into his hair, scratching at his hair. The reaction was immediate, his gaze shutting quickly, face relaxing into a blissful expression. “There's this famous scene, where he's suspended upside down using his powers, and him and the girl he's into have an iconic kissing scene…”

Mammon's eyes flicked open as soon as kisses were mentioned, that previous curiosity now intensified. “Uh, and like…is it steamy?” 

You roll your eyes but there's some concession in them. “Many people consider it steamy, yes.”

It wasn't hard to work out how the gears had started to turn inside Mammon's head. He was always quick to orchestrate situations in his favor, after all. He tried to suppress a little smile. “You could show the Great Mammon…You know. Sharing your human culture, an’ all that…”

You pretended to think about it, brushing a couple of fingers against your chin. Your free hand still toyed with Mammon's surprisingly soft hair. “I don't know…you've been a real pain lately.”

He struggled against the rope, grunting softly. “Let me down and show me!” Mammon insisted willfully.

You only laughed, steadying him with a palm against his chest. “If I were to untie you, I couldn't show you. You gotta be in this position…”

The insolent demon made another disgruntled noise, glaring at you through his white lashes. The path of his pupils quickly making its way towards your mouth. “Well, I don't care. Gimme some, then!”

“Some what?” You played dumb, stroking his cheek, which only calmed his eagerness momentarily. His warm, tan skin tingled under the pads of your fingers.

“Um. You know…kisses. Kissing.” He mumbled, his cheek turned towards your touch, as usual. “Give the Great Mammon some sugar.” He finished lamely, shooting you a toothy grin.

You huffed, shaking your head. He was incorrigible. “Is your blood pressure dropping? Do you need something sweet?”

Teasing him was one of your many daily tasks. A neverending one at that, since he gave you reason to restart it every couple of hours. Each lingering look and declaration of grandeur seemed to renew your desire to knock him down a peg. Or two. Or three.

Still, it was hard not to indulge on the soft spot you tried so hard to hide. Even harder was abstaining from rewarding his good behavior. Like when he admitted some wrong doing or showed sincerity…

He coughed unceremoniously, clearly trying to get your attention again. In that, he succeeded, as your eyes flicked back to the present. “I'd like that kiss you were talking about…” He cleared his throat, gaze adverted. “Please.”

The last word was said so softly that you could've dismissed it as a draft casting a window open, or Beel rummaging through the kitchen. But no. Your eyes had read his lips in time. And your own accommodated a smile in turn.

“Hm? Did you just say please?” Your fingers busied themselves, playing with the rough rope that kept him in place while your eyes coyly met his. Not only coy, they even seemed a little proud.

Mammon whined, already wanting to take the words back. But when he registered the encouragement behind your teasing, he stopped his weak wailing. “Uh. Perhaps. Don't get used to it.”

After talking, he gave an interested look your way, which he tried to conceal as a casual glance, with no success. Your gaze hadn't faltered. “I like it when you're polite like that. It's attractive.”

His eyebrows raised up so high that they got lost under his messy hair. Mammon blinked in surprise, feeling an extra dose of blood blooming under his skin. “Y-yeah?”

“Mhm. It makes you seem so serious and…manly.” You lied, biting back a trifling smile as you thought about how gullible and cute he was. Although the idea of finding him endearing still unsettled you a bit.

“I am! I super, totally am!” He shook in place as he exclaimed and insisted on it loudly, trying to break from his restraints again. His eyes were bright and eager. “I can show you! I'm very polite. The politest of them all!"

“Really, Mammon? If you asked for things nicely, I think you'd get what you want more often.”

He seemed to consider that, those rusty gears hard at work again. “So, if I just say please…”

“Well, it won't always work. Especially if it's about money. But it might work with…other matters.” You chose to keep it vague, just in case he was inclined to immediately run up to his brothers asking for a new loan.

You could already imagine the disapproving stares afterwards if Mammon were to tell them you gave him the idea.

“Will it work on you?” He inquired, quieter than before. In response, you gave him a non-committal hum.

“Maybe.”

“Please…the Manspider kiss. Please show me…” He begged softly, his lip curling down into a small frown. It made you soften, much to your dismay. You poked the corner of his mouth with your index finger.

“So silly. But you are being nice.” Your frame slotted up slightly, aligning your face at the same height as his. Your hands curled around his shoulders, so he wouldn't dangle around. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He rasped out. His head and chest were pounding, probably thanks to his punishment, but Mammon knew deep down the galloping in his chest had really started for other reasons.

You didn't dare drag it out any longer, and in the blink of an eye, his lips were pressed against yours in a soft, languid kiss. Your mouth moved slowly, capturing his own between subtle sighs.

His kiss, on the other hand, was more hurried. It was as if he were fighting some sense of composure just like he had fought against his bound state. He moaned quietly, eyes fluttering as you softly sucked on his lower lip.

When he tried to deepen the kiss further, you pulled away. You were still in the main hall, after all. If Lucifer had strung Mammon up in his own room, there's no telling what might have happened, but the public nature of the kiss had you cutting it short.

Mammon frowned deeply, the most genuine show of discontent until then. He seemed actually upset, perhaps worried he had done something wrong. “Why'd you stop? I asked nice like you said…”

“Someone might see. And you're on time out, remember?” You murmured, sneaking in a quick nuzzle and kiss to his cheek, which caused him to pipe down, nuzzling back as best as he could.

“Mm. Feels nice, though. I wish we could keep going…” He lamented longingly, eyes half-lidded, disposition sweet. “That Manspider definitely knew his stuff.”

“I'm just glad to be of service educating you on human culture.” You chimed aloofly.

“But I have so many doubts left. I need more lessons! I need private ones! And tests, and punishments!” He began, eyes squeezed shut as his tone got louder. So loud, in fact, that he didn't notice a set of steady footsteps approaching down the hallway.

Lucifer's head quirked to the side, his deep voice cutting off Mammon's speech as he settled beside you, standing tall. “Private lessons? Tests?”

His deep red eyes settled on you, pleasantly surprised but also skeptical. “Good job on him. We might be finally inculcating some discipline into that thick skull.”

Mammon's mouth clamped shut, his face blanching. He gave you a long-suffering stare before directing it at his older brother. “Yes. I'm being good right now. Nothing else is going on. It's just that good, human influence running through my veins.”

Lucifer's doubt became palpable as a result of Mammon's suspicious words. That is before he decided to give him some grace, narrowing his eyes at him but ultimately continuing his path towards the library.

Mammon's shoulders mirrored your own, dropping in relief as you were left alone after some scrutinization. “Could've gone worse.” You whispered. 

“I dunno about that. Now Lucifer thinks I'm a goody-two-shoes who wants to stay up all night with his nose buried in some book.” He spat, face pinched in irritation. If his arms had been free to move, you imagined they would've crossed over his chest.

“No. He must've thought I put a curse on you or something.” Your plush mouth brushed against his temple fondly.

He giggled, before trying to disguise the sound with a grumble. “You would do somethin’ like that to poor ol' me…"

“Only when deserved. So, most of the time, yes.” Another kiss to his cheek. A wobbly smile from him.

“I could get used to some forms of punishment…” He said dazedly, soft enough that an untrained ear would miss it.