Discover Top Posts Tagged with #toji angst

freak on a leash!

toji's one dirty dog (...literally)

synopsis: after a curse accidentally turns the most feared sorcerer killer into a stray dog, it looks like toji is taking shelter with the first sorry person that takes him in...which happens to be a completely clueless you!

pairing: dog!toji x f!reader

wc: 11.1k

content: mdni, fluff + angst, smut, unprotected piv sex (after he's human again okay lmfao), lots of pining and yearning, toji is literally a dog for a while lol + so pathetic about it, deep in denial of feelings, toji being a dick until he realizes he likes being taken care of, pet care, oblivious reader, nanami cameo, jealous toji, protective toji, okay he's actual just feral, collars and leashes, kissing, fingering, doggy style, pulling out, toji falling in love

a/n: toji art by @to00fu ! this was a commission for the extraordinarily lovely @chewiebee !!

Toji was having the worst fucking week of his life.

He had no interest in fighting curses. Why would he? He wasn’t getting paid to play sorcerer. All he cared about was taking out his current target, hungover as he squinted through bloodshot eyes at the scene of yet another pathetic fight unfolding in front of him.

So how the fuck had putting a bullet in some moron’s head ended in him getting caught off-gaurd by the thing he’d been chasing?

He didn’t know what it was classified as, what it was even supposed to be, but that was the definition of crossfire. Wrong place, wrong time, and now he was a mutt.

Truthfully, Toji had been called that (and worse) a time or two. Treated like a dirty dog with fleas.

He never realized how fucking itchy actually having fleas was.

Maybe this was karma. Retribution for all the awful deeds he'd done and justified over the years.

A pathetic curse had transformed him from a force to be reckoned with to a filthy stray. Trading in scarred skin for shaggy fur, calloused hands for paws, even growing a goddamn tail.

He’d gone a day or two without eating before, sustaining on ramen or whatever else he could scrounge up – but now he knew what starvation was like when he was faced with the realization he’d be eating out of fucking trash cans for the time being. Clumsily swiping at the metal lids or sticking his wet nose up as he sniffed around back alleys for scraps. Getting shooed away from restaurants, ignored by pedestrians, narrowly avoiding nosey people who’d probably take him to some animal shelter while he waited for this stupid curse to wear off.

Except, it didn’t.

Each day, he woke up with his slobbery head resting on his furry limbs.

The second week somehow managed to be worse.

Hunger gnawing at him, desperation and starving twisting together until he felt feral. Shiu was probably pissed off and pacing somewhere, surely thinking Toji was off on some bender instead of bent forward on his haunches, attempting to take a nap outside of some nice office building – the kind with the type of employees who’d toss him leftovers if they saw him sitting there sadly.

There weren’t many things Toji was good at that weren't phsyical.

But knowing what kind of woman would take him in was one of them. It wasn’t just about a pretty face or an expensive purse. It was that little gleam in their eyes, the faint hint of pity that undercut their attraction. Whether or not they had a wedding band, or wore designer brands, if they were searching for salvation in sex with some scumbag or just the thrill of doing someone they shouldn’t, those all came second.

There had to be sympathy, even if it was misplaced – the sort that made them feel like they had to offer him a bed and blankets to bury himself in, hot meals and clean clothes. A place to shower and scrape his life together between contracts.

Toji was trying for a few days – attempting to snag the attention from a do-gooder or divorcee to get himself somewhere to sleep.

He almost gave up. Until you came along.

And in an instant, he had you pegged. Planned out his play as you looked past him. Or, over him.

You were someone he might’ve slept with. Heels clicking as you walked up to the main entrance, pausing to give someone who was playing guitar on the sidewalk some cash between buildings, smiling all pretty before you shrugged your purse over your shoulder and hurried inside.

Sure, he couldn’t pull his usual tricks on you. Slide up to you or slip you his number, call you doll or pretty, until you were giggling and grinning up at him.

But who said he couldn’t find another way to win you over? And win himself somewhere warm to sleep while he was at it? He perked up, an idea brewing in his lemon-sized brain.

He supposed he’d find out pretty soon if you were a dog person.

ᴥ

You heard of the cat distribution service before. Giggled at the idea of the universe hanging you a pet on a silver platter like that. But the green-eyed shaggy beast barking in front of you felt a little more like a cosmic joke.

Did the dog distribution service exist? And if it did, why the hell had it decided you were capable of taking care of this?

All you were attempting to do was go back down the street after a particularly grueling shift, but this…stray was prowling around as if it were waiting for you. Padding back-and-forth on dirty paws, leaving muddy prints on the concrete as you glanced around for an owner you already knew didn’t exist.

He wasn’t wearing a collar – and judging by the fact you could see a couple ribs poking out, you doubted he’d been fed anything outside of scraps for a while.

“Hi, puppy,” you tried to greet him, holding your hand out for him to sniff. Tilting your head to the side while you cringed at the idea this hulking thing could possibly be a puppy. He was too big, dark scraggly fur sticking up, his coat dirty from living on the street for however long he’d been living out here. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d even seen a stray dog around here. Let alone one this large.

Was he someone’s pet they tossed out when he grew past puppy size? One that escaped and scrounged to survive?

He curiously came up, his long tongue sticking out and dragging over your fingers. It was kinda gross, struggling not to cringe outwardly this time before you wiped his slobber off on your pencil skirt. Glancing around as if someone else wearing an ‘I LOVE DOGS’ shirt would waltz up and take him in so you didn't have to.

“I don’t have any food for you,” you apologetically murmured, ignoring the snickering of another one of your coworkers brushing past you and the mutt rubbing his nose against your skirt.

He let out a low ruff, and you couldn’t tell what he was trying to communicate.

Still, you were convinced he would lose interest after a block. Or two. But he was still trailing after you by the time you finally reached your apartment.

“You can’t come in,” you protested at first, frowning at him yipping and pawing at your heels. You bit your lap, looking around to see if anyone else was around before almost immediately caving in and opening the door to the lobby for him. He rubbed his head against your legs, but followed your lead up to the back stairwell, keeping up with you until you reached your front door.

Were you a fool for letting some mangy thing inside your place?

Probably, yeah.

But you told yourself this was a temporary thing. God knows you couldn’t afford the additional pet deposit you’d need to pay to keep him. Or the dog toys and food required to keep an animal this big well-fed. And honestly?

You were too lazy to find the time to walk him every day.

He’d need what? At least an hour? A few miles?

You’d give him a few days, a week maybe. You’d have to take him to a vet too, get him checked out to see if he had a chip or anything. Afterwards, you could look up animal shelters nearby, but if those were full, you could try posting online to see if he was anyone’s missing pet.

A lot of work for…what?

Some stray?

He looked up at you with those dark green eyes, and you noticed a strange scar stretching over his lip, still visible through his fur, all jagged and rough. It was enough to tug on your heartstrings, squeezing it just hard enough that you only sighed as you unlocked your front door, barely beginning to push it open before he was barralling his way in.

Most of the mud on his paws had come off on the walk here at least, only leaving little marks of dirt as he padded into your living room, looking around almost critically. Eyes shifting from your couch to the tv hanging a little lopsided on your wall, quickly locating the adjoining kitchen and heading in the direction of your fridge.

Greedy thing, wasn’t he?

He barked, trying to get your attention.

Surely, if he knew what a fridge was, knew where to go, he had to belong to somebody, right? Maybe you would only have to play dogsitter for a day or two if someone was out there missing him. You’d have to keep an eye out tomorrow for posters on lampposts, fingers crossed that you’d get a reward for being a good samaritan.

You kicked off your heels, following your new friend over to your fridge.

He was pawing at it, practically whining, and another prick of guilt got you. Pierced into your soul, disappointed in yourself for already thinking about how fast you could get rid of him while the poor thing was staring.

“Do you like steak?” You asked, not sure what else you could feed him that you already had on hand. The steak was supposed to be for a date later this week, a guy you had sorta been seeing for the past few weeks.

You offered to cook for him, already got the ingredients, but you supposed you would just have to go to the store for another one – and pick up some actual dog food there too.

The dog was nodding, head moving up-and-down, as it was actually answering, and you giggled a little.

He was kinda cute. In a scraggly way.

Like the type of guy you swore you could fix. On the bright side, you could fix him. Fatten him up with some real food. Get him some proper exercise. Maybe a dog bed for him to stay comfy until you found him a new (or old) home.

“Suppose I should name you for now,” you murmured, getting down on his level. Not quite nose-to-nose, his surprisingly intelligent stare locking onto you.

He barked, and if you could almost believe he was trying to tell you a name when he was making eye contact like this.

But dogs couldn’t talk. And unfortunately for him, you weren’t all that creative. You went with the first (and not very fitting) name your brain came up with as you reached out to pet his scraggly fur.

“What about Fluffy?”

ᴥ

“Good boy.”

How fucking frustrating.

Toji was not a good boy. The number of bounties on his human body could probably vouch for that. Actually, anyone who ever met him would fucking agree that he was about as far as he could get from the definition of good.

He was a bad, bad man. One who would most certainly be much happier out there murdering people than having his paws shoved inside a fucking pet sweater before having a goddamn green collar fastened around his neck, a leash attached.

If he could scowl, he would be right now, regretting every bad decision that led him here.

(Although as much as he hated to admit it, the sweater was kinda comfy.)

“C’mon, Fluffy,” you purred, scratching behind his ear in a way that reflexively had him leaning into your hand, unable to control the canine whimper that came from his throat as you managed to make that infuriating itch that had been bothering him disappear.

Perhaps he picked the wrong woman.

You let him in. Fed him. But it was like you were trying to irritate him, piss him off with your cutesy nickname and condescending baby talk. Completely clueless, convinced you were doing a good deed by taking care of him.

“We’re going on a walk,” you spoke softly, pulling lightly on his leash to get him to follow you.

He barked back, trying to communicate that he didn’t fucking feel like it, that it was far too early in the morning to make him get up, the sun barely up before you were attempting to force him off of your couch.

Wasn’t it bad enough that he was collared and leashed? Contained in the body of a canine?

Toji didn’t know how long he could take it.

Sure, the steak you fed him was great. The warmth of your apartment, the coziness of your couch, that was all fine.

But putting up with you? And this?

He whined, resisting as you exhaled hard, rolling your eyes at him.

“You’re going to be stuck here all day,” you huffed. “Don’t you need to like, piss?”

Toji grimaced, his grumbling only coming out in low barks as he begrudgingly let you lead him to the front door. Your purse was tucked over your shoulder, plastic shopping bags sticking out of it as you plucked your keys free.

He had learned a few things about you over the past fourteen hours.

You were smart, sharp enough to look a little suspicious at his human-ish behavior. He had to do a few circles, sniff around the furniture to shake your stare after he scarfed down the steak and wiped his mouth on one of your hand towels before getting shocked by his own reflection looking back at him in the oven.

Growling a little, disturbed at the thought he made an ugly mutt.

Affectionate too, in an easy way. Rubbing his head and scratching underneath his chin every time you so much as brushed against him.

But you were still a fool.

Just stupid enough to see a stray and let it sleep with you.

Well, adjacent to you.

Shutting him out of your bedroom, leaving him to crash on your couch, curled up in the corner, eyes shutting from exhaustion before he could stop himself. He didn’t mean to doze off – but he couldn’t control it. After so long scrounging for survival, his body refused to stay awake any longer, bones worn, limbs terribly tired as dreams washed over him.

In them, he was human again, but still here.

Staring down at a sleeping dog in front of him, paws hanging off the couch and snoring while he scoffed.

What the fuck was he doing?

How the hell was he supposed to get back to his own body?

There were still things he had to do. Debt to be paid and bets to be made.

His life wasn’t good. Had never really been. But it was still his to live.

Toji flexed his fingers, trying to hold onto the feeling of having them before he found himself snapping back into his dog form – like some rubber band snapping and rebounding him back into the proper place.

He didn’t get the chance to protest.

Why did he expect anything different?

The world wasn’t kind to him. Why would it cut him a break now?

This was as good as it was going to get.

Maybe the universe was telling him to be grateful or some stupid bullshit like that – reminding him that even his strength could be humbled and stolen from him. Reduced down to a dog wearing a sweater, stuck on the leash of a woman who would go on to marry some small-dicked loser and have a picket fence life without half the worries he had.

Who would never know blood and death the way he did. Protected by the sorcerers he was contracted to kill.

“Are you really gonna fight me on this?” You pouted, stomping one of your heels as you gave another small tug at his leash.

He shook his head, and you blinked back surprise again, eyes narrowing before you swallowed hard. Accepted it as a little quirk, or whatever you had to tell yourself before letting it go at that. Leading him back down the hall, down the stairs, taking him back to the sidewalk and the streets he’d been prowling for the past couple weeks.

“See,” you murmured softly. “It’s not that bad.”

Yeah, it was, but he couldn’t argue with you the way he wanted to.

It was cold on his paws, the wind nipping at his nose, and you were barely hiding your shiver under your coat in the early morning air.

You had the decency to turn your back when he did his, uh, business.

The whole thing felt intimate – in a way he despised. How you would bend down to speak quietly to him, how your fingers felt running through his scruff. The way the tips of them would skim over his jaw as your eyes locked onto his.

If he was better, less self-centered, perhaps he’d stop to appreciate the fact you still spoke to him, even when he was only a dog. But you didn’t know he was really a human like you.

Actually, not really like you.

You were supposed to be nothing. You weren’t a sorcerer. Didn’t belong to a clan. There wasn’t even enough money in your purse to really have a place in his normal life.

The paths you were both on should have stayed separate. Never crossing, never intertwining. You were weak.

And you were still the one person who stopped for him.

“Guess I need to get you to a vet tomorrow,” you sighed, standing up straight and looking left back towards your apartment. “I’ll take you out for another walk after work.”

And you did.

The whole day by himself, padding around an empty apartment of a stranger, dozing off on the floor and fighting his animal impulses to find out how chewable your shoes and furniture were, it was kind of lonely.

Toji thought he knew what loneliness was. How it felt to be by himself, to not have anyone to talk to or turn to. But it wasn’t like this. Nowhere to go and nothing to do, nothing but his own morbid thoughts.

He was almost relieved to hear your key turn in the door. Showing up with a big bag of food, arms full with a comfy cushion big enough for him to sleep on and a bag of dog toys, setting up his bed next to your own and patting it softly before you peeled off your clothes to put on pajamas.

He was sleazy, sure.

But this time, he turned around, paws sinking into the soft cushion instead of staring at the bare expanse of your skin when your top came off. Didn’t watch you change or take the easy opportunity to see a pretty girl strip right in front of him.

It didn’t feel right.

He slept on the floor, shoving down the depressingly long day before you were walking over to him. Getting down on your knees, rubbing his back and resting your head on top of his.

“Good night.”

When was the last time someone had actually wished him that?

He was struck by the strange sensation pricking underneath his fur and skin that it felt nice to hear.

Truly, Toji loathed how easy it was to get used to this.

How long did it take?

Not nearly enough for him to find justification.

Even if his days stretched out far longer lately.

When did it happen exactly? How did getting his head scratched go from irritating to intoxicating? When did he start catching his tail wagging waiting for you to get back home? Or listening on the rare occasions where you patted for him to jump up and join you in bed at night? How he couldn’t control his impulses when it came to sniffing and licking your face the next morning?

Looking forward to the way you would sleepily stroke his fur, yawning and snuggling him close.

“Sweet boy,” you murmured, lazily throwing an arm around his torso.

He’d been called a lot of things.

Evil. Broke. Awful.

Never sweet. Never anything carrying an even remotely positive connotation before you unless it was just about his looks.

You took him to the vet, but he saw the way your brows knitted together when they scanned him for a chip and couldn’t find one. They offered to vaccinate him, but all it took was a few barks, whining and resisting for you to quickly decline and take him back home. Grumbling on the way back about needing to put up posters or make found dog posts online, but you didn’t do either.

Just turned the tv on and gestured for him to join you yet again, letting him get up on the couch as you sighed and scrolled through shows, glancing over at him every so often, tilting your head to the side in a way that was almost annoyingly cute.

He wanted to know what you were thinking.

What was going on in your head when you looked at him like that.

But the days ended how they usually did, with you returning back to your own bed, leaving him to his dreams.

Ones where he was human again – where he wasn’t stuck being your pet and eating fucking kibble and taking pisses in the street. Where he would actually be able to hold someone again.

Toji just didn’t realize he had started to think about holding you until the world reminded him that he couldn’t.

Watching you hurry around your apartment after work the next day, shutting him out of your bedroom just to step back out in a ridiculously tiny dress five minutes later. One that clung to your chest, stuck to your skin and rode up your thighs.

“I’m gonna be home late tonight, Fluffy,” you sighed, pulling at the hem of it as you slipped into your heels. You were even wearing more makeup than usual, the gloss on your lips catching the light as they parted apologetically.

He barked, and if he could, he’d tell you not to fucking think about it.

That you should really just stay here with him.

It was absurd. Simply absurd that he was attached to you like that.

He wasn’t supposed to be attached to anyone. To need somebody other than himself. To count on your company like that.

“I know,” you sympathetically sighed, bending down to cup his face.

When you touched him like that, he almost felt human again. Almost felt like you were actually seeing him.

But he was just a fucking dog to you.

ᴥ

“Do you like dogs?”

Your date coughed a little, wine dribbling down down his lips as he cleared his throat and used his napkin to wipe it off.

“Do you have one?” He asked, forcing a smile that made you feel awkward as you took the last bite of the dessert he insisted on ordering.

You postponed your date from before, but he suggested making a dinner reservation at some upscale restaurant that made you feel shy, a little guilty about ordering off the pricey menu when you had originally wanted to cook for him before.

The discomfort only grew at how incompatible you were slowly starting to think you might be.

“I sorta took in a stray,” you shrugged, dropping the fork down on the plate. He nodded along, placing a credit card over the receipt as you tried to judge where the rest of tonight was headed. If you should offer for him to come back to yours.

Honestly, despite the not-so-great date, you were dying to get laid.

To feel the warmth of something that wasn’t furry or inanimate. To be touched and adored, even if it was only for a few moments. Just a night where you were taken care of, treasured.

Although, the barking beast probably snoozing on his bed back home might pose a problem judging by the way your date was shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

He was a coworker, professional enough that you had never thought he was remotely interested in you until he politely declared that he'd like to go on a date with you a month ago, formally admitting his feelings for you had grown through break room chats and meetings.

Nanami was cute. All serious and steady. The sort of guy it would be easy to picture a future with. He definitely did his taxes – probably had his retirement half paid for already, a future mapped in five-year plans.

“Oh?” He asked, with just enough curiosity to help you work up the courage to ask your next question, thick fingers somehow still managing to hold a wine glass delicately.

“You could come meet him?”

How terribly could it go?

Fluffy was a little feral. But he didn’t bark or try to bite the people you passed by when you took him on walks.

So you hadn’t exactly anticipated how territorial he’d act after only living with you for a couple weeks.

Silence greeted you back in your apartment, pushing the door opening and calling out to him. Laughing a little at Nanami’s wry comment about your naming abilities and letting your hands skim over his broad chest, the button-up clinging to it as the sound of paws padding towards you made you turn.

Your dog started growling the second he saw Nanami next to you.

A low sound, from the deepest part of his throat, rolling as you protectively stepped in front of him and scoffed.

“Don’t be like that,” you scolded your pet, sighing and shaking your head with disapproval. “C’mon, Nanami.”

“Kento,” he corrected you, but when you glanced back, his focus was on Fluffy. Amber eyes narrowed, lines forming between his brows as he watched your dog get low to the ground and continue howling with his own disgust.

“We can go back to my bedroom,” you murmured, interlacing your fingers with him and leading him past your pet, keeping yourself between the two of them before you shut the door behind you.

Neither of you even got past taking your shoes off, or even peeling a single article of clothing off, only your purse getting the chance to hit the floor. His hand had just cupped your face, the sharp slope of his nose nudging against yours as he leaned in for a kiss when a loud thump interrupted.

Fluffy was throwing the whole fucking weight of his body against the door, barking and whining at being shut out.

“He’s not usually like this,” you muttered, embarrassment edging in at how much you sounded like one of those dog owners who swore their dogs never bit when they definitely did.

“Maybe next time we could go back to my place,” he lightly said, even when he was actively grimacing and glancing back to where the whole frame was shaking from the force of your dog acting like a dick.

Crack.

Wood splintered. The frame gave out, hinges creaking as a large hole suddenly burst through the center.

You stared at your now utterly destroyed door.

“What the hell?” You hissed, glancing down at your dog on the other side through the dog-shaped crater, wood chips in his fur and scattered on the floor. He was baring his sharp teeth, growling at the man behind you.

“I don't think he likes me very much,” Nanami dryly commented, and you couldn't even protest.

Just blinking at the huge mess you'd have to clean up as you numbly attempted to collect a shred of composure and higher reasoning not to completely lose it at the dog still trying to break into your bedroom to what?

Attack your date?

“Perhaps it would be better if I left,” Nanami muttered, right as Fluffy started barking even louder through the broken and splintered wood.

“You don’t have to-” You weakly protested, but he had made up his mind.

And you had sealed your fate of not getting fucked tonight the second you suggested coming back here.

You had to slip out of the door first, hardly managing to hold Fluffy back by his collar as your date hurried back out. Except, at the last second, he slipped from your grip, bounding across the living room in large strides and half-launching himself off the couch just for his canines to sink into the calf of your blond coworker. Ripping a hole in the tan fabric but thankfully not actually breaking his skin, only stopped by Nanami grabbing him by the collar and prying him off before he could.

“Holy shit, I'm so sorry,” you started frantically apologizing, rushing to grab him and hold him back, rambling that you'd buy him a new pair of pants.

Nanami politely muttered something about seeing you in the office again on Monday, dusting off his now ripped pants with more professionalism than you think you could ever fucking muster as you contemplated finding a new job so you wouldn't have to face a break room conversation apologizing for your dog assaulting his slacks.

The door shut too hard behind him, and you were left alone with your still-growling stray.

“I swear to fucking God, if you try to break the front door, I'll drop you back off where I found you,” you threatened, only letting go of the collar when he stopped. But then he was pacing, making unhappy circles and looking at you like you were the one that had committed some grave sin.

What the fuck were you supposed to do now?

Buy a dog crate? A new door? Try to call around shelters again to see if any of them had suddenly become available to take him?

Despite how pissed you were, how the disappointment and anger felt like it was boiling and bubbling underneath your skin, the thought of dropping him off somewhere and condemning him to being put to sleep or stuck somewhere for months without anyone to take him in kinda scared you.

You didn't want that to happen to him.

Even if part of you hated him right now for this.

Silently fuming when you stomped back into your bedroom, stripping down and huffing to yourself as you yanked pajamas from your dresser. Tossing them on and snatching your purse back up, rummaging through it for your phone to send an obligatory apology text before scanning through your contacts for someone to complain to.

Calling one of your friends as you sat on the edge of your bed, listening to the phone ring and the sound of paw pads pacing in the living room drifted through the gaping hole in your door.

“I thought you were on a date right-”

“My dog tried to fucking bite him,” you groaned into the phone, putting her on speaker before pulling up your browser to start searching for solutions for your current dog problem.

What would a responsible adult do?

You regretted not going along with your first plan, for putting your search for a proper place for him to stay on pause is it because you'd grown a little fond of the feral thing, procrastinating doing all those things you swore you'd take care of after they couldn't find a chip.

“That sucks,” your friend sighed with you, and the sound of a loud thud forced you to push off the bed and venture back into your living room, carefully stepping over the remains of your door as you peered at the lamp he knocked over.

At least Fluffy had the decency to look semi-guilty this time, attempting to nudge it back into place with his nose as you felt some invisible vein throb across your forehead.

You tucked your phone between your ear and your shoulder, squatting down to pick it up and fix it without looking at him.

“You still there?”

“Yeah, he's just making another mess,” you muttered, feeling defeated at the thought this was nothing compared to the other big repair this place would need. Worn by the past few weeks. Maybe you just weren't cut out for pet ownership. “I just wanted to get laid tonight.”

“God, I feel you there,” she giggled back, but your mood felt stuck in the gutter. “What are you gonna do about the dog?”

The dog. Maybe that was how you should start thinking about him instead of your dog.

“I don’t know,” you drawled into the phone as you stepped into your kitchen, elbows on the counter as you watched him prowl back-and-forth in your living room. Hopping up on your couch and slobbering a little on your throw pillow before jumping back down. “Do you think it could be like testosterone making him more aggressive? Or like, his breed or-”

“Does he still have his balls?”

You looked back at him, catching a glimpse of the subjects of your conversation before sighing.

“Yeah,” you exhaled. “You think I should go ahead and get him neutered?”

His ears perked up almost instantly, head snapping towards you.

It was a little funny, like he could somehow understand you, green eyes burning into yours with an expression that almost resembled betrayal.

“I mean, if you take him to the shelter, they'd do it anyway,” she replied, and you shrugged.

“Yeah, that's true,” you mumbled, considering it as your dog sorta stared at you like he was wishing you death for thinking about getting his balls cut off for the crime of preventing you from having some in your mouth tonight.

Well, it wasn't like he could actually understand you.

ᴥ

His balls?

You wanted to fucking neuter him?

What new indignity was this? How fucking cruel was fate for this to be his life?

First, you bring home a goddamn sorcerer. Act like you were going to fuck him, your hands on his chest while you giggled at what that fucking sap said as if it was even remotely funny or interesting. Looking up at him with a glint in your eyes and a smile you never gave Toji. All bright and grateful and giddy.

Disgusting.

The whole thing, really.

Like he'd actually let that stuck-up prick parading around like he was better than everyone get to fuck you. Even as a dog, he could feel his cursed energy. Sense it the same way he did as a human.

And even though that guy had no way to know it was Toji, he still caught the suspicious glances cast towards him, the flare of energy before Nanami or whatever the hell you called him had abruptly stopped after he tried to bite him. Like for a split second, he briefly considered using his technique. Like he thought Toji was a curse.

He supposed he was pretty close.

You were pretty when you were pissed. Pouting at him and grumbling to one of your friends on the phone, whining about wanting to have sex with someone – and it only irritated Toji more.

God, if he could, he'd fuck you hard enough you forgot about Fluffy or Nanami or the hole in your door.

But he couldn't.

And if you had your way, apparently he wouldn't be able to fuck anyone even if he got transformed back into a human if he didn't have his damn balls.

Toji refused to just lay there and take it. If he was anything, he was still a fighter, even in this form.

Listening to you weigh the options, grabbing a trash bag and bending down to pick up all the broken pieces of wood and shove them inside.

Maybe he wouldn't admit it even if he could, but he felt bad watching you clean up, a disturbing concoction of guilt and anger (and jealousy) brewing in the pit of his stomach as he laid his head down on his paws, stuck staring at you biting your lip and griping about what a dick he was, grumbling about all the overtime you’d have to work to cover the cost.

You were both probably better off without each other.

For once, Toji waited for the right moment, for you to be preoccupied tying up the trash bag while you pulled open the front door for him to make another impulsive decision. He ran. Nearly knocking you over, sprinting past you out into the hall and towards the stairs leading down to the lobby, ignoring your cries for him to stop.

He could hear your footsteps, the panic in your voice, the way your breath hitched as you hurried to catch up. And for some stupid reason, it made his heart stall. Made him hesitate, pausing for a few painful seconds before he forced himself to keep going.

Keep moving.

One foot paw in front of the other.

The last step almost tripped him up, but he didn’t stop, skittering across the lobby and almost slamming into someone shaking off an umbrella before he beelined for the closing front door. Toji barely made it through, the concrete cold and freezing on his paws as rain started to pelt his fur.

Of course, it would start to fucking pour when he was leaving you behind. On the bright side, you’d probably wouldn’t search for him when it was raining hard enough it was a struggle to see more than a couple feet in front of him. Racing down the sidewalk and slipping between people passing by, panting as he put distance between himself and a life of being a pet.

A life of being yours.

Telling himself he was scrambling from the possibility of being neutered so he didn’t have to think about what else he was running from. So he could ignore this frustrating tightness in his heart, the way his chest strained with every breath, his lungs constricted as he shut down the image that kept popping up behind his eyes of that irritatingly cute smile of yours.

He was doing you a favor.

You didn’t have the fucking guts to just toss him out like you should’ve done.

The rain was starting to soak him entirely, his attempts to shake it off pointless when two seconds later, more water droplets would be clinging back to his fur as his pace slowed.

He glanced back, trying to judge how far he made it, how much longer he’d have to keep going before he found some alley or discarded box discarded to take shelter in through the storm.

But all he saw was you.

Pajamas sticking to your skin, wisps of your hair clinging to your wet forehead as your voice was drowned out in the downpour. You were shivering, hand trembling as you held it up to shield your face from the rain and scan for him.

The second you saw him, you were running to reach him.

Toji knew he should run too. That this might be his only chance. He could try again with some other woman. Wait and hope and hold out faith that this curse would still wear off and he’d return to normal.

But he stayed.

Let himself be caught.

Why?

He couldn't comprehend it, couldn't understand the concern in your wide eyes either when you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his drenched fur.

“Don’t do that again,” you murmured, breath catching in your throat as you hugged him tighter. “You scared me.”

Maybe he’d lost brain cells.

But he knew that wasn’t it, not when he heard the soft whine of his next bark as he relaxed into you. Licked some of the water off your skin like it would do anything to help. Nuzzled back into you as you laughed even after he ruined your night.

Ruined your date and your door.

You deserved better than him.

Better than a loser like Toji could properly give you even if he was back in his own body.

He wanted to tell you sorry. To apologize for the first time in his miserable life to the only person who’d put any effort into him.

So he allowed you to grab ahold of his collar and lead him home, obediently walking back to your apartment, both of you absolutely drenched by the time you made it back to the lobby. He shook it out more effectively this time, water droplets flung all over the linoleum floor while your clothes dripped in a steady pitter-patter.

“You can keep your balls if you don’t do that again,” you muttered under your breath, too tired to be mad at him anymore. “And if you leave my doors alone.”

He barked, a short yip and a begrudging nod in agreement wishing he could ask you not to see that stupid guy anymore too if you were in the mood for making deals.

The only thing he could do as a dog was try to scare away any of your…suitors.

Especially snotty blond sorcerers.

The walk back up the stairs felt twice as long, the shame slowing him down, he supposed. Condemning himself to a future of being dragged around on the street if it meant sleeping in your room and biting any guy’s dick off that came around and tried to stick it in you.

It was embarrassing to pad around, rubbing against your legs while you grabbed a towel from the bathroom and rubbed him until he was close to dry.

Fuck, you even combed his hair out and brushed his goddamn teeth.

He felt like a creep when he glanced up to catch a glimpse of your midriff when you went to change for the third time tonight, a single strip of your skin as you pulled your soaked shirt off before he turned away. Tail tucked between his legs as he walked back to his bed.

His.

Walking around in a circle before laying down to get comfortable. It wasn’t resignation, not exactly, but as close to contentment that someone like him could get to.

Despite his fuck ups, you were still here. And so was he.

Tomorrow, he’d try to make it up to you. Lick your face and snuggle with you on the couch, on top of your chest with his paws on your collarbones, let you call him Fluffy or whatever the fuck you felt like, as long as you scratched under his chin and looked in his eyes like he meant something more.

Toji was still cold, involuntarily shaking, but there was a strange warmth in his chest. A fuzzy feeling in his chest he was unaccustomed to.

Footsteps approached, and his head instinctively snapped up to see you drying your hair with a towel, dropping it by your feet with a sigh. He could smell you on it even from here – the familiar scent surging that same protectiveness he felt taking over him earlier. He was already getting back up off his hindlegs, searching for forgiveness with your hand stroking his fur.

You leaned down to meet him halfway, and left a soft kiss on the tip of his nose.

Of all the kisses he had before, however hot and hungry they were, none of them compared to that single tender press of your lips. The cute sigh, the small exhale dusting over him, smelling faintly like your mint toothpaste.

And then you were standing up, switching off your light before getting in your bed and pulling back to the covers. It took a second for his eyes to adjust, but honestly, he could see better in the dark than he could when he was a human. You had paused, still staring at his shape before he noted the movement of your hands. Softly patting the spot next to you in your bed, sheets crinkling as you waited for him.

He listened to you.

You threw your arms around him like you did earlier, squeezing softly before mumbling something that he couldn’t fully hear, muffled into the pillow when you turned your face. Either you were calling yourself or him an idiot.

He was an idiot for sticking around. And you were one for letting him.

But this was the bed you both made to sleep in.

You rolled over a little, your cheek exposed – and Toji couldn’t stop himself from moving up to lick it. Drag his tongue over it while you huffed and rubbed the skin to get his saliva off.

“Gross,” you giggled, nudging his nose back down.

You got back up, navigating through the dark back to your bathroom to re-wash your face before you came back to him. Offering one last pat to the top of his head before you rolled away from him.

“Good night, Fluffy.”

ᴥ

There was a man in your bed.

A big, beefy, naked man.

You screamed. Or, well, you were pretty sure you did.

It was a big blur of movement, slipping out from underneath his heavy limbs and smacking him as hard as you could with the closest object – a hardback book by your bed, screaming for Fluffy, cold fear seeping in as the man groaned your name.

You stared, and you realized with horror that he wasn’t totally naked. He was wearing your dog’s collar. It was too tight, the skin bulging a little over the green edges, and he was moaning again, waking up and slipping his fingers underneath it in an attempt to loosen it some before he rubbed the red mark on his forehead where the book connected.

Honestly, if he wasn’t a stranger, an intruder, you would’ve thought he was hot.

The dark hair, the toned chest, the thick ridges and cords of well-toned muscles, looking like he just leaned after a bulk, he was insanely attractive. You just had no choice but to believe he was fucking derranged considering he ended up nude in your bed at nine in the morning.

You called out for Fluffy again, breathing hard, barely able to break your gaze to scan the room for him only to come up empty.

Did you forget to lock your door last night?

Had your dog ran away again, slipped out when this guy snuck in?

No, he wouldn’t. He might just be a mutt, an animal with all the instincts of one, but you felt like you made up. Fluffy wouldn’t leave you.

“My dog could literally rip your throat out,” you threatened anyway, pointing your finger as you pressed your back against the wall, slowly stepping towards your still-demolished door. Where the fuck was he?

If you screamed, would a neighbor call the cops?

“I am your dog,” the man in your bed grunted, sitting up and lifting his leg before pausing, like he wasn’t sure what he was about to do with it. Stopping completely, staring down at his hands in sudden shock, eyes stuck on his calloused palms before he slowly turned them around. Flexing his fingers before closing them into a fist, somehow managing to be more stunned as you inched closer to your exit. “Well, I was.”

Great, so he was fucking crazy too.

Even if it was eerie that he did sorta resemble Fluffy.

The green eyes, that familiar glint in them as they narrowed on your trembling form. The scar that stretched over the corner of his mouth. The way he tilted his head just slightly as his stare dragged over you, like he was trying to see what he could get from you.

“And my name’s Toji,” he gruffly informed you, swinging his long legs off your bed, the blanket barely keeping his crotch covered as you panicked and made a break for it, yanking open the door to slip out while he was still talking. “So you can stop calling me Fluffy, doll.”

Your dog wouldn’t call you doll.

But he wasn’t waiting for you with a wagging tail in the living room either. Not sitting in front of your fridge or by the pantry where you kept his food.

“Where ya’ goin’?” He called out, and you couldn’t get yourself to move.

Staring at your locked front door, everything exactly as you left it the night before.

Your wet shoes. The forgotten trash bag. Your phone on the connected kitchen counter.

This guy, Toji, his footsteps creaked across your floor, following the same rhythm of your dogs, even if it was strange to hear, a little stilted like he was getting used to walking on two feet again.

It didn’t make sense.

He came through your broken door, taking the space by your side as if it was the most natural thing in the world to him.

Watching you, observing you, and you had to force yourself to look up at him so your gaze didn't drift too low.

“I don’t understand,” you blinked, barely comprehending the facts seemingly in front of your face.

Your dog was missing. A stranger with the same eyes, the same jagged scar had taken his place.

“It’s complicated,” he grumbled, growling a little like he was still half-dog.

“You can’t really expect me to believe-” It was so absurd you couldn’t even finish your sentence. Couldn’t say it.

“What? Want me to bark for you?” He sarcastically offered, his voice hoarse, rough. He was rolling his shoulders back, really selling the whole visual, but your brain was still stuck on the sheer absurdity of the situation.

And then he was stepping closer, hovering over you with an intensity that warped your fractured thoughts even more, shattering your common sense with just a casual smirk.

“Woof.”

“You’re not-” You numbly protested, your stare drifting down from those damning eyes to those pretty lips. His huge shoulders, the biceps bulging as one of his hands landed on the wall behind your head.

A treacherous jolt ran through you, straight to the center of your stomach, some intangible thing twisting inside you at his proximity.

“I am,” he insisted again.

You couldn’t even give a real reason for believing him. Explain it in any rational way. But when he was looking at you like this, when his fingers reached out to cup your face. They were rough. The pads slowly dragging over your cheekbone until he was tangled in his hair.

“But you were a dog,” you uselessly said. Breathing harder, throat going dry as you stared at him, trying to find any evidence to argue with. But you didn’t know if you were trying to prove or disprove it.

What you even wanted the truth to be.

“And you let me lick you right here,” he murmured, rubbing his thumb over the spot Fluffy had slobbered on last night.

Your heart skipped.

Stalled or stopped or seized, completely halting as Toji confirmed what you already instinctively felt. Skin or fur, he was familiar.

And you guessed the collar wasn’t a lie.

He reached up to scratch at it again with his free hand, but you didn’t miss how he once again lifted his left foot before remembering it wouldn’t reach anymore.

“I literally picked up your-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, disgust making your nose scrunch up as you smacked his chest.

Once, and then again, all sorts of funny feelings fluttering and fluctuating in your chest as you struggled to sort through all of it.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, but it was obvious he was the kind of guy who never said sorry for anything ever. He hesitated, like he didn’t know what to do or really what to even say. Toji dryly swallowed, clearing his throat before speaking up again, “Sorry.”

Taking his hand from the wall to run his fingers through his short black hair, feeling his scalp, the individual strands, before his massive palm found your waist instead, just above your hip. Seeking reassurance in a subtle squeeze, wrinkling the little shorts you were wearing.

“What are you doing?” You asked, like you didn’t know.

As if you were too stupid to see what was swirling behind his starving stare.

This time though, you didn’t think a steak would satisfy him.

Was this morally wrong?

Inappropriate to share the hunger heating up the air between you when you’d been treating him like a pet for weeks? Seeing him as your dog?

“Don’t play dumb,” he muttered, but that was really because he didn’t want to say it either.

“I’ve taken care of you,” you started, forcing yourself to look away to break the tension. “You know, fed you and-”

“I want to fuck you,” he grumbled, and you flinched.

Froze as his heavy words sank in, instantly replaying them. Blunt, without beating around the bush, making sure couldn’t misunderstand it.

“You say that to all your owners?” You mumbled, eyeing the door. “Or break their doors?”

“I was doing you a favor then,” he argued, tilting your head back towards him. “Besides, you could do better than that guy.”

“Yeah?” You exhaled hard, and his grip tightened. “Like my dog?”

He laughed, but it came out more like a sharp bark.

And then he was suddenly scooping you up, both hands grabbing your ass and abruptly lifting, carrying you back through your bedroom after kicking in the door the rest of the way.

Returning you to your bed, his frame encompassing yours as he climbed on top of you fully. Hooking both your thighs around his thick waist, and you found yourself automatically wrapping your wrists over his neck, entranced by his face.

“How am I supposed to know this isn’t a really weird dream?” You hesitantly asked.

“I don’t fuckin’ know,” he grunted, burying his head into your neck and taking a big whiff. Groaning at the scent alone, grinding his hips down before he even kissed you properly.

“That’s really helpful,” you sarcastically muttered back, but you found yourself scratching his head too, testing how it felt to sift through his hair, pulling it back so you could look at him again.

He whined like your dog did at the separation.

Although, you liked how it sounded better coming from an actual man.

“Toji,” you said his name slowly, unsure of how it sounded on your tongue.

He faltered too, and you watched his jaw lock up before he released it.

“What?” He answered, and you felt a surge of courage.

“Go get your leash.”

Toji’s lips pressed in a thin line, his scar twitched, but he reluctantly got off of you, grumbling under his breath but still obeying. Still being your good pup.

He yanked open the drawer of your dresser, pulling it out and tossing it to you.

“C’mere,” you murmured softly, and he was back on top. But it was you fastening the leash to his collar, attaching it on and tugging him close enough his nose grazed yours.

“Happy?” He snarkily asked, but he didn’t take it off.

“Happier,” you admitted, and you did something as stupid as taking him in to start with.

You kissed him.

Hard enough your teeth almost clashed, his lips opening enough to let you in as he returned it with the same fever. He kissed with enough experience that it sort of annoyed you, imagining some other girl getting to know what it felt like to have his tongue in their mouth once he was actually exploring yours.

Tempted to bite his lip to get some petty revenge, but you didn’t even know for what.

You guessed him fucking up your evening with Nanami made more sense now – added up with the realization he wasn’t just being territorial, but totally, completely, pathetically jealous. Snapping and barring his teeth to stop anyone else from sleeping with you because he wanted to.

What kind of petty creature had you invited into your apartment?

Was it a full moon? Some kind of reverse werewolf that only turned back into a human once a month?

God, you fucking hoped not.

One of his greedy hands snuck under your top, not subtle at all as he groped at your breast, taking advantage of the fact you slept without a bra to squeeze your tit. Toying with it and dragging his fingers over your nipple with a low chuckle, breaking the kiss to murmur next to your mouth that he couldn’t believe he’d been deprived of this for so long.

“You’re feral,” you wryly replied, out-of-breath as his other hand slipped inside your shorts, teasing the band of your panties.

“Can you blame me?” He licked his lips, and you nearly laughed. Alarmed at how charmed you were, how attractive he managed to be even this depraved. “Been fuckin’ dreaming about you.”

“Doing what?” You teased, tilting your head as he breached past your underwear, feeling what was already damp and waiting for him.

Teasing you right back, sliding two intimidatingly long fingers inside you with embarrassingly little resistance. You were already wet. Why wouldn’t you be?

A ridiculously hot man without any clothes had been flirting with you since you woke up this morning.

So what if all the other details were just, uh, strange?

He was staring at you like a piece of meat. Literally? Figuratively? You didn’t know anymore, but your train of thought derailed the second those sturdy digits of his curled. The stretch was delicious, dragging you down into the pit of lust you’d been attempting to claw yourself away from.

Scissoring you open slowly, taking his time to feel you clench down, his eyes narrowing as he lasered in on your open-mouthed reaction. Rushing to swallow up the needy sounds he drew from your mouth, his tongue sloppy and messy, running over the ridges of your teeth. Your knuckles tight around his leash, lost in the pleasure of his fingers splitting your open and making you see stars before he’d even put his dick in you.

Which you could already feel pressing firmly into your soft thigh, persistently throbbing in time with your own pussy squeezing down on his knuckles. Shapes and colors blossomed behind your eyes as he found that one special spot in the back, all spongy and sensitive, basically begging for him to poke and prod at it until you were begging him.

Eyes clamping shut, hips arching off as his rough fingertips pinched at your nipple right as he felt around, treating your body like a treasure map, exploring it with desperation to unearth your deepest secrets. Or maybe, just the darkest parts of you.

What you sounded like when you fell apart. How hard it would be to stitch you back together.

“T-Toji,” you gasped, struggling to hold it all in. To hide your pleasure when your sanity felt so splintered, but he just chuckled.

“What? Not Fluffy?” He grunted, and you gritted your teeth.

“You’re the worst,” you groaned, your other hand scrambling to grip the sheets.

His hair tickled your face, short strands as his mouth made his way south down your throat. Teeth scraping the tendons, doing his best to leave bite marks, canines on your collarbone while his rough voice was etched in your head.

“Yeah,” Toji grunted. “I am.”

You almost rebutted with another snide comment, but he hadn’t finished.

“But I’m your problem.”

Before you could reply, his fingers were pulling back out, still slick and damp as he suddenly flipped you over.

Onto your hands and knees. Shorts and panties shoved down your thighs. Shirt ripped in his rush to strip you down.

Still, you refused to drop his leash.

Holding onto it with an iron grip, even if he groaned, readjusting behind you, the weight of him heavy on your back as his mouth returned to your neck like it belonged there.

His cock swinging and hitting your ass before he readjusted, positioning himself at your entrance, slipping it in-and-out through your folds before edging it in. Making you whine first, throwing a long look over your shoulder at him.

Toji’s scar was taut, almost white as his eyes lazily looked over you. Appreciating every line and curve, the lump in his throat bobbing before he locked eyes with you.

“Well?” You challenged.

His dick was inside you before you could even arch your brow.

It was thicker than you expected, felt much fucking bigger when it was actually dragging across your walls, his tip grinding its way in deeper. Making sure you didn't miss even an inch, burying himself to the hilt as his sweaty chest pressed flat against your back.

Your knees nearly buckled, only supported by his arm snaking around your waist to hold you up.

He pulled back out slowly, if only to remind you of what it felt like to be empty before driving his dick back in one brutal thrust, your moans mixing together as your body reflexively jolted away from him.

Toji clicked his tongue to chide you, all deep and taunting, dragging you right back – determined to keep you stuffed full. “Not goin’ anywhere.”

“Says the guy that ran away,” you reminded him, wiggling your hips just enough he had to feel it too. Thighs squeezing as a guttural grunt escaped him.

“You wanted to cut my balls off,” he scoffed, and just to make a point, his next thrust left you feeling them smacking against you.

“It's not like I did it.”

He fucked you like his masculinity had still been wounded. Nursing it better with sex and sweat, inhaling your scent in between his hungry hickies while he shaped you out around him.

You wrapped the leash around your hand, pulling him closer, arms giving out so your cheek squished against the blankets as he groaned in your ear. Toji was ruthlessly slamming his hips back down, cock splintering you just for his huge hands to hold you together, his forearm still supporting your hips hovering up in the air while his fingers tugged on your hair.

Hadn't you said you wanted to get laid anyway?

Wasn't this probably better than whatever Nanami would've offered? Soft, slow sex was nice sometimes.

But everything about this was heightened, animalistic. Raw.

Every ridge of him etching itself in you, every moan you earned from him memorized as you held his leash.

He might've been the one fucking you, the one imprinting your shape into the mattress below, but the power was yours.

If you asked, you were pretty sure he'd flip you back around and eat you out until your throat was too sore to speak from screaming his name.

“Toji,” you purred his name, deciding you liked it. Liked him too. Even if he was a freeloader.

“Yeah?” He grunted, not even pausing his sloppy strokes, pounding into you as your back arched up higher, hips teasingly shifting and squirming in his hold. His next thrust was even harder actually, the force of it making something underneath you crack.

The bed frame?

You were too drunk on him to care. Fuzzy with the warmth he provided and still aching for it to burn hotter.

“Make me cum.”

You thought you heard his breath hitch, but then the arm that was around you moved, his fingers finding your clit faster than you could blink, rubbing mind blowing patterns around it.

It was impressive, really, on top of irritating that the knowledge it had to be practiced. Not sure if you were fighting a smile or a frown as his damp fingers tantalizingly danced across that sensitive bundle of nerves.

Not delicate, no, you didn't think a beast like him could ever manage that.

But it was desperate, following your command and seeking approval in every swirl and circle he drew.

Pressure building and threatening to crest every time, surging through you like a storm. Matching his intensity, pulling you in with a magnetism you only recognized when it was too late.

You were wrapped around his finger the same way he was wrapped around yours.

And when he made you cum, you didn't think any other orgasm you ever had could measure up. All the tides receding for one massive wave of pleasure, your whine of his name muffled into the comforter as you hid your face. Pulling down on his leash so you could feel as much of him on you as possible, his hips, his muscles, his chest. Craving the contact as you climaxed, sucking in mangled inhales that didn't seem to reach your lungs.

Barely able to lift your head enough to speak, vaguely aware through blurry vision that the whole world was slightly crooked while you started to come down.

“Good boy.”

You didn't think a man had ever pulled out of you so fast – but then he was letting out the lewdest moan you ever heard and something wet was splattering across your back. Warm ropes of cum dripping down your skin while he sounded like some B-tier porn star, all gravelly and gruff, stroking his cock as the last of it leaked out. You watched him over your shoulder, holding your breath at the sight of him like this.

His dark happy trail, the ‘V’ of his hips, how slutty he looked on his knees with nothing but a leash on.

Could you really keep him?

As a boyfriend, of course?

You blinked, and then he was getting up. Cock swinging in the air as he walked to your bathroom, snagging a washcloth from under the sink and running water over it before returning to clean you.

Wiping you down and huffing at where some of his cum had landed on the blankets, making a half-assed attempt at cleaning it up before tossing it on top of the towel you left on the floor last night.

And then he was just casually plopping back down on your bed, propping his head up with pillows and closing his eyes as you sat up.

“Come here,” he muttered, patting the spot next to him like you usually did. Holding his arm out to let you know you had a spot there.

You crawled over to him, tucking yourself against him and staring up at him, still entranced by his features.

He stroked your hair softly, keeping you cradled there. You reached up and unhooked his leash from the collar. Toji scratched at it, beefy fingers pulling at the leather with another low grunt.

“You’re paying me back for the pet deposit,” you huffed, glancing around your room. “And a new bed.”

“Don’t forget about the door,” he grumbled, growling at the memory of the man he almost had to bite last night.

You let yourself laugh, rolling on top of his chest and propping yourself up on your elbows. Squinting at him and sighing, tracing over his nipple to watch him flinch, his dark brows furrowing.

“An actual date too,” you added.

Toji rolled his eyes, but he tugged you up higher, letting out a little sarcastic scoff when you nestled into his neck, his collar pressing against your skin. You’d readjust it for him in a minute, loosen it more, but it was silly to see someone so stocky in it.

Made him feel like he was still yours.

“Whatever my master wants.”

#toji angst

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