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flaneur001 · 3 months ago

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Lost and Found

A/N- This is my entry for the Valentine's Day event by the sweet @unintentionalseductress for the lovely @ravenclaw-jojo (And coincidentally my very first event <3 ) Pairing- Toji Fushiguro x F!Reader Tags- JJK Office AU, Office romance, Mutual pining, Angst with comfort, Slowest of slow burns, Smut, Eventual Smut (p in v sex, Argument that turns into a heated makeout, cunnilingus, lots of teasing, a little edging, sex in front of a mirror) Word count- 12.7k

The strange bit about love is, it’s a dramatic being. A flashy, attention-seeking exhibitionist, really. It doesn’t cower, when it sizzles through the briefest of a heated glance you share across a room, thinking no one noticed.

And surely, it doesn’t hide, when its remnants spill through the tears. Leaving dredges of exhausted, lingering feelings that just won't go away. They take root in your very self and cloy your insides.

This selfish thing stays venomous to the end, preening as it shatters your pride, while it walks in its glory for all to see.

For him to see.

You licked your lips, as the salt stung your wounded heart, leaving an acrid burn in its wake. Never in the time you knew him, did you ever imagine that you’d end up like this. Drenched, in the middle of the street, fists clenched at your side in a stubborn, pathetic last show of resilience.

The rain was pelting in a blur of icy water. Your sweater clung uncomfortably to your form, the water seeping through the material of your undershirt, leaving a chill to linger on your skin.

Yet, it was the frigid empty look in his eyes that made you shiver.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The weather forecast had predicted a cold albeit sunny morning, followed by a pink mellow day. Hence, You had dressed for the occasion. Subtly trying to coordinate outfits with him. You had felt confident, beautiful even, when you left your shared apartment together.

Today was meant to be special, perfect.

Memorable

So why then…

Why weren’t you surprised when he scrolled disinterestedly on his phone, as you fret over the several samples of cake lined before you?

You had kept telling yourself, over and over, that he’d come around. That it’s nothing. That you've just hit a plateau in your relationship.

Everyone goes through this right?

That it’s all in your mind, and that once you marry, things will change. You both will have something new to look forward to. To celebrate. To experience that feeling of being in love again.

A chance to revive a relationship that had concerningly declined into a dull, meaningless chore. An act. Something that you had perfected so well, that going through the motions had become second nature to you.

It was almost as if you had conditioned yourself to fill in the space left behind by him, to finish the unsaid sentences, and gotten used to feeling lonely even with him right next to you.

Learned to love him as he was. Just so he would stay.

And He did. In incomplete phases. Somedays you got all of him, A bright luminescent gaze full of love, others there’d be a crescent of a smile gifted to you, peeking through the parting smoke of cloud-misted eyes.

It was enough to sustain you through the moonless nights.

When your only other company was the glare of your phone screen, and some sappy Romantic drama that you lived through vicariously, while he dozed off peacefully without a care in the world.

What people don't realize is that learned habits are the nicer distant cousins of addictions. Not particularly harmful, but their symbiotic hold on our minds is impossible for the weak to break away from.

And you weren't struggling. Weren’t trying at all.

You didn't have many vices, but if complacency was a sin, yours was an irredeemable soul.

It was partly the reason why you had let it drag on for so long. Adult relationships were meant to be straightforward and realistic.

So what if you didn't feel that zap of butterflies in his presence, that you had only ever read about? It didn't matter if your skin never tingled whenever he touched you, made love to you.

It all boiled down to a sense of companionship, and stability. He was there, right next to you.

And that was enough. Enough to survive a lifetime.

Or so you thought.

You stood there, hapless, bewildered at the words spilling out of him.

“It was too much for me, I was suffocated”

You resisted the urge to scoff at his insensitivity, at the sheer audacity of this man.

Suffocated?

You should be saying that when you were the one pulling the weight of this ridiculously one-sided relationship.

“Your expectations kept mounting and I felt…I felt…trapped” He ground, surprisingly firm. With no ounce of gentleness to soften the blow. As if he believed every word he said.

And just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did. He drove the point home, shattering your ten-year-long relationship into a rubble of insignificance.

“You’re just so needy. I’m sorry. But I can’t do this anymore” He apologized, profusely, while being the least bit apologetic.

All those years and he couldn’t even bother to fake sincerity for you.

A loud venomous laughter escaped you, spilling out in a hysteric fury. You slid the engagement ring off your finger and flung it at his feet. Tears, rain, and the rage-filled clouds thundered, punctuating this moment that you’d probably never forget.

A million feelings wrestled up your chest, fighting to hurtle out, and all you could manage was a whisper.

A sigh of twisted relief.

“Thank you”

And unlike him, it was genuine. It was freeing. It came from a place of weird vulnerability that still saw the man and wished that he would take it all back.

That he would gather you into his arms, and say it was all a cruel joke. And then you’d go back inside and finish your cake tasting like nothing happened.

But he picked the ring from the puddle at his feet and turned around. Walking away with a wordless goodbye, like a perfect stranger on a rainy day.

And you stood there. Confused and stranded amidst your own emotions.

Love is a strange being indeed. A stupid vagabond.

For all its bravado, it still yearns. Seeking a place that it could call home.

***

The first week, it still hadn’t sunk in. You adhered to your morning routine just the way you did when you shared this apartment with him. Coffee for two. Two sets of toasts. One crispy golden, and the other a tad burnt, just the way he liked.

You cleaned every nook and laundered the clothes he had left behind. Ironed his work clothes, and restocked his favorite snacks. Didn’t watch the show you had on your wishlist for ages, because he insisted that he wanted to watch it together.

You winced as the dish slipped from your hands and shattered near your feet. In your absentminded daze, you didn’t even notice the cut left behind until it bled. Licking the wound on your finger, you swept the remaining pieces and emptied them into the trash. Another plate lost from your set.

Another broken promise brushed under the rug.

It was the second week, when the doorbell rang like a wake-up call, bringing an envelope with your share of the deposit that he had received after canceling the booking for the wedding venue.

And when the third week arrived like a grim reaper, standing outside your door in his likeness, a box in his hand, an empty suitcase, ready to collect his belongings and the soul of your dead relationship, that’s when you finally accepted it.

It was over...

So like the norm stated in the big book of breakups and galore, you donned your shoddiest pajamas, grabbed a tub of cheap ice cream, put on the angstiest of movies to drown your sorrows with, and swore not to shower, bathing in the stank of your gloom, for the rest of your eternal self imposed solitude.

“What’s the purpose of existing…” you trailed off sagely, propping your feet on the wall and laying on your back. Your eyes tracked the swirls of chipped plaster on your ceiling, imagining various images like your personal impromptu Rorschach blots.

A small sigh paired with a sharp click of tongue sounded on the other side of the speaker, and you instantly knew that you were about to get an earful.

“Shut.Up” A soft voice intoned, its edges roughened by the traces of habitual smoking. You could hear the squelch of something gooey, the sharp cuts of curious slices like incisions made on stretchy stale meat, and imagined the worst.

“Shoko, please tell me you’re not doing what I think you’re doing.” A groan escaped you, picturing your friend’s morbid amused grin.

“Don’t ask questions you can’t stand the answers to. And be grateful I’m being your personal shrink, instead of sending you to a legitimate one” She tsked, but there was no venom in her voice. Only the playful tinges that masked her actual concern.

“Look, I have said it before and I will say it again, He.Was.Not.The.Person.For.You”

She continued and you hummed along, now hugging the pillow to your chest which smelt faintly of his cologne.

Sensing the trudging reluctance in your voice, Shoko sighed, a long sigh this time.

You heard her as she put away the scalpel with a clank, removed her sodden rubber gloves with wet snap-snaps, and dragged a metal chair across the room to sit, to give you her undivided attention.

“Remember when I lived in my old apartment building?” Shoko murmured, and the sudden change in topic made you frown a little but you nodded, as if she could see you.

“Uh-huh, I do. You hated it there”

“Exactly. Because the unit had mold infestation, there was a dumpster placed right under my window, so the air was always stale and funky, my roof leaked, and to top it all off—“

“The meowing.” You finished for her, giggling at the memory of her at your door in the middle of the night, sleep-crazed and whiny, asking you to let her stay over.

“Yes. The constant shrill meowing of the next-door neighbor’s cat. He had adopted the stray right around the time I moved in. ‘Hope’, he had named her. Things weren’t bad then, she was a sweet little thing, clinging to his side day and night.” Shoko recalled, puffing out a short breath.

You closed your eyes, strangely calm as her voice rippled in waves around you. Lulling your various intrusive thoughts to sleep.

“It was when the guy moved out suddenly one night, leaving her behind while she slept outside his door, that it began. Her cries echoed through the lobby when he didn’t return. She scratched at the foot of his door, and crouched low to peek under it, wishing to catch a glimpse of him inside.

She loved him. Maddeningly so. To the point where she neglected food and water given to her by other residents. ‘Hope’, begged, bargained, and denied the truth, for days, weeks, and even a month. Right outside the closed door, engaging in some conversation that only she could hear,” Shoko paused, letting you imagine the small creature, on its futile vigil.

“And then?” You asked, half afraid of the answer.

“And then she died. Waiting for him.” She finished bluntly. Grimly. Meaningfully, as if trying to drive across a point.

“So, babe, always remember, ‘Naive hope is futile when spent knocking outside deserted doors’. When someone leaves, they have already left the moment they made the decision in their mind. Not when they put it to action.”

Her words ricocheted through your mind and settled somewhere deep inside, lingering long after she had hung up.

‘Naive hope is futile if spent knocking outside deserted doors’

Your eyes traced over the words of the email sitting on your laptop screen. It was an invitation from Zenin Corp. Your workplace was celebrating its 10th anniversary, by conducting a company-wide team-building event, somewhere on an exotic island just outside the country. Funded entirely by the CEO.

A week-long trip away from your worries. A perfect excuse to slack off and restart. And to think you were about to bail on this event. You rolled your shoulders and sat up straight, perching the laptop on your knees as you typed away.

Closing the laptop, you smiled. The first time in weeks, as you left the swampy hold of your bed and bounded towards your closet. Pulling out a suitcase, you piled in your best outfits, ready for a breeze of change. Ready, to live again.

***

Many mightier than you have fallen under the red-bottomed heel of fate.

You were nothing but a fly stuck on its windshield, as it monster-trucked all over your joke of a life, while you were forced into a reluctant front-row seat to this car crash of an experience.

If nature had decided to turn your life into a sitcom, you desperately wished to rewind and roll back to the moment last week. When you had hit the ”send” button on the email and agreed to come on this trip.

Things were good in the morning when you had arrived with your coworkers at this palatial, swanky hotel situated atop a hill—overlooking the sea, and the tropical landscape of this “nouveau hotspot for vacationing” as dubbed by the influencers online.

It was straight out of a luxury magazine. Somewhere only the crème de la crème of high society had access to. And you had felt weirdly out of place.

Nonetheless, you had decided to enjoy this little treat offered to you on a “complimentary” platter. Like hungry hawks, your coworkers descended upon the buffet, sharing excited conversations, and catching up on gossip after the lull of holidays.

It was all good. Too good in fact.

And that’s how we come to the current situation.

He was here. He was not supposed to be here.

Why the hell was he here, anyway?

The hall fell quiet, as Toji Zenin made his entrance. A crisp black shirt with the top three buttons undone, and sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Navy blue fitted slacks, and black dress shoes. To top it all off, his signature lazy smile, and that mysteriously eye-catching scar on his lips, completed the effortlessly confident aura that he exuded whenever he entered a room. Grabbing the attention and holding it captive, in his dark emerald shrewd gaze.

The CEO of Zenin Corp. In flesh. In his Six feet something, annoyingly imposing glory.

All the air was sucked out of your lungs as he casually sidled up to the General manager, grabbed a flute of champagne, and worked the room, conversing, greeting newer employees who hadn’t met him yet, and reacquainting himself with the older ones.

When it was your turn, you found yourself hastily reaching for a flute of Rosé nearby, hiding your expression behind the rim. You could feel him saunter towards you, lithely, like a panther out for a stroll, and pause. Head tilted to the side, that damn smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and those eyes. Roaming over your form slowly, sharply. Like the blade of a dagger tracing along your spine.

You sucked in a breath and cleared your throat, meeting his eyes in a show of feigned confidence.

He could tell, going by the mirth swirling in his gaze.

“Mr. Zenin”

He offered his hand, bending a little to level his gaze with yours.

“Too formal.” He corrected

You accepted his hand, biting your lip at the way it enveloped yours, in a warm comforting grip.

“Mr. Toji” You mumbled. A waver of doubt seeping into your voice.

He smiled wider, leaning in closer as he replied, with a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Too awkward”

“Toji…?” You enunciated the syllables feebly. With a question lingering in the air. One that was a coy inquiry about the current murky dynamic of theirs. He was correct in a way. Their history was too complicated to be insulted with forced formalities. Their professionalism belied a certain rapport they shared.

But where did they stand now after all this time?

He caught onto the question and answered, with an equally coy, mysterious grin lighting up his features,

“Toji. Say it again, a tad more firmly.”

“Toji.” You tipped your chin at him, and he broke into a silent chuckle, gifting you with a flash of his pointy canines, and a boyish charm that left some questionable swoops in your belly.

Satisfied with the interaction, he leaned back, letting go of your hand—but not entirely. His fingers lingered, his thumb finding the spot where your engagement ring should’ve been, tracing the lighter skin, in a quiet hidden caress of acknowledgment.

He bowed his head courteously and broke away, continuing his rounds, unaware of the way your skin burned. As if his touch had scalded and marked you. You picked up another flute, this time subtly pressing your ring finger against the cool glass, to relieve this sensation.

You could feel several eyes on you, watching with barely hidden amusement—relishing the reunion of their favorite power couple.

Your head ducked under their scrutiny, and a flush flared up your neck. His blatant familiarity bled through his actions like a wound he never let heal, scratching over the tender area anew, each time he shot her a look across the room.

She downed the drink and another, hoping to calm her frayed nerves.

This was indeed going to be a long week.

***

Something notable about being born middle class is the way you learn to walk with your feet pressed firmly to the ground.

No matter how much the blue allure of the sky beckons, you never dare dream of flight. You live with your head down, with your wings clipped, and grow up with an instilled acceptance. That your life will look similar to a lot of your peers.

You’ll study, work, study some more. Find a suitable companion, secure a steady job, marry, and live out the rest of your days in quiet predictability. A foretold story with a cliché ending.

And you did your best to stick to the plan—you grew up responsibly, studied diligently, and landed a sweet spot at Zenin Corp fresh out of college. It was a prestigious company. A conglomerate passed down from generation to generation.

Now the only thing left to do, was to slowly crawl up the corporate ladder, and save up enough to marry your longtime boyfriend.

But fate being its notorious self, threw an unexpected variable your way, blurring the preset path you were destined to follow.

Your own version of the yellow brick road.

An unforeseen, unfortunate variable called Toji Zenin.

The young disinterested heir, forcibly made to bear the weight of responsibilities, behaved like a stubborn mule. And you being your unlucky self, were set with the daunting task to assist him.

Beginning a series of events that’ll alter your life forever.

Although reluctant to admit it, Toji possessed that impeccable business prowess of the ones that came before him. He was shrewd, lethal, and unforgiving while dealing with company matters, carrying the Zenin name like a flawless burden.

His stature bore him a set of wings, allowing him to reach beyond the skies and peek at the heavens. Yet Toji preferred the mediocre simplicity. And that reflected heavily in the way he interacted with you.

He was keen, curious, and sometimes lazy, making him appear weirdly human in your eyes.

He wasn’t Toji Zenin when he was with you. He was simply Toji.

The man who could slay people with his razor-sharp negotiation skills was the same man who fumbled and flailed when it came to honing his foresight. He was brash—so incredibly impulsive—that stock trading became a task that fell directly under your supervision.

Together under your control, the company expanded by leaps and bounds. Zenin Corp experienced a success much greater than it had ever seen.

But that wasn’t all. He nudged you, poked and prodded sneakily, pushing you bit by bit outside those firm lines you had set for yourself.

You refused to dream. He fabricated them on a whim and dragged you along. Opening your tightly sealed eyes, to a world of possibilities. A vibrant colorful kaleidoscopic dream.

His world.

And somewhere along the way, you had borrowed the forbidden wings, unfurled them, and took flight. Taking a bite out of desire.

“How many times is that this week? Don’t you have any sympathy for me?” Toji leaned at the door jamb of your office and regarded you with an exaggerated frown on his lips.

“Mr. Zenin—“

“—Toji” He corrected

“Toji,” You smiled amused at his petulant behavior, “I have no say in your family matters. I’m only here to manage your schedule. And right now your schedule says that you have a blind date in thirty minutes”

“No say in my matters? Do you want me to call you out on your bullshit? Because I will. The old man is so taken with you. He respects your decisions. More than mine”

He walked in, and pulled out a chair opposite you, slumping down on it with his legs spread apart.

Oh, how you hoped that he didn’t see the flutter of a grin that threatened to break free. These days there was something abysmally wrong with you.

If not, then why were you suddenly enjoying this power given so readily to you?

Lately, your conversations with your boss ran freer. Crossing that subtle line of professionalism into something more.

Some days you would bring an extra lunch under the guise of making him eat healthier. Others you’d work overtime, bathed under the dim lights, a backdrop of cityscape shining under a canopy of stars outside the floor-to-ceiling windows in Toji’s grand office, and enjoyed an odd cup of coffee, with nothing but the rustle of documents to fill the companionable silence.

A secret solace and a stolen moment, made for a guilt-ridden cherished memory.

You knew you had a boyfriend—though he had been blowing off dates for ages. You knew that whatever this feeling was, it was nothing more than a fleeting distraction, a mere side effect of prolonged proximity.

But it didn't stop your heart from beating a mile a minute, whenever he tugged at that line you had drawn and pulled. Playing with it as he pleased.

“But, you’re forgetting something crucial.” He leaned forward with a smirk, effortlessly stealing the mug from your grasp and taking a long, shameless sip of your freshly brewed coffee.

You licked your lips, unconsciously tracking the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

“Something crucial…like what?” You replied, mentally kicking yourself at the way your voice came out raspy and low—as if you were parched.

Thirsty

“The fact,” he intoned, pausing for effect, “that I’m married”

“Since when?” you asked, raising a skeptical brow.

“Ha! You’re divorcing me already…my dear work wife?” he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

So he had heard. The office was rife with rumors— whispers of speculations. Everyone seemed strangely captivated by the idea that Toji and you made a fabulous pair. The business scene was already acquainted with your combined prowess. Now, the only question that remained was—wouldn’t you be even better as an actual couple?

And so, the rumor mill churned.

…and churned, until it had reached him.

You shook your head, doing your best to ignore the pleased, almost flirtatious look he was giving you.

“Don’t joke around. You still have a blind date to attend, and I—“ Your excuse to brush him off died on your tongue when he raised a hand, cutting you off.

“—And you’re going to accompany me on a very urgent business meeting. Pronto”

His plans were all but ruined, with a single call from his grandfather. With much hemming and hawing, Toji begrudgingly changed into the emergency set of suits he kept in his office and trudged along to his nth blind date this week.

As for you, you packed your belongings and shot a quick message to your boyfriend to check-in. After months of rescheduling, you had finally managed to plan a movie date tonight.

You were excited. Eagerly looking forward to spending some quality time with your partner, hoping it would help erase this strange feeling you’d been experiencing around Toji lately.

You: Hey babe! Are we still on for that movie tonight? <3

Babe: Ohh, was that today?

Babe: I’ve unexpectedly run into some work. Overtime again. Raincheck?

You stared at the screen, disbelief creeping in. Especially when—just a moment ago—you had checked his social media.

He was out. With his friends.

Just who did he think he was, lying to your face like that?

A twinge of inexplicable sadness bubbled up your throat, threatening to spill over as tears. Swallowing hard, you swiftly locked your office, stepped into the elevator, and rushed down to the basement parking lot.

It was dark and deserted. Most of the employees had already left. You unlocked your car, ducked inside, and rested your head against the steering wheel as your quiet sniffles turned into wracking sobs.

Why did you always have to be the one to initiate things? Didn’t he care? At all?

It was in the late hours, with nothing but silence as your companion, that you felt the most like yourself—real, flawed, messy, and so unbearably lonely.

You were exhausted from giving him yet another chance. Five years. Five years of waiting, of understanding, of making excuses on his behalf.

When would he finally understand that you were a person too? That you had feelings?

Just then a tap on your window jolted you out of your crying session. You hastily reached for some tissues, dabbing at your face as you turned to look at the person who wouldn’t let you be miserable in peace.

Your eyes widened and an embarrassed flush crept up your neck when your eyes met Toji’s emerald ones.

He simply raised a brow and silently gestured for you to unlock the door. You did, and he climbed into the passenger seat—wordlessly handing you his handkerchief before reaching for the stereo to put on some mellow music.

And somehow, that small gesture undid you.

The tears spilled over, harder this time. Louder, messier, and uglier than you had ever cried before.

He didn’t ask what had made you like this. He didn’t press for answers or offer empty words of comfort.

Instead, he leaned over the console, gathering you into his warm, muscular embrace.

He smelled of pine, soft petrichor, and something unmistakably Toji. A scent that wrapped around you as he traced slow, soothing circles on your back. You mumbled incoherent complaints. Words you wouldn’t remember later, but ones he listened to anyway.

A moment passed and he pulled back.

Just enough to look at you—just enough to swipe his thumbs over your cheeks, catching the tears on the plush of them. His gaze, usually sharp and unreadable, softened as he studied you.

Amidst the sniffles and hiccuped breaths, your eyes flickered, from the warmth of his gaze to the curve of his lips. That greed, that longing, that quiet hunger that had been simmering in the pit of your stomach surged forward, untamed.

And before you could stop yourself, you leaned in ever so slightly.

A beat of silence. A strange impasse, where both your breaths mingled, curiously teetering on the edge of something neither of you could take back.

You recognized the look in his eyes. Yearning. Hunger. A deep, insatiable desire that mirrored your own.

The seconds stretched, thick with quiet contemplation, until at last…he leaned in.

His lips brushed against yours in a kiss so soft, so barely there, that it made you choke out a whimper. Such delicate treatment from a man twice your size sent your heart into a tizzy.

But before you could kiss him back, your phone rang shrilly, shattering the moment, and making you both jolt apart.

Toji cleared his throat, looking away, while you stared at your screen in haunted disbelief.

It was your boyfriend.

A cold, sinking feeling settled in your stomach.

You had a fucking boyfriend.

And you had just cheated on him.

The clock had struck twelve.

And it was time for Cinderella to head home. To leave behind her Prince Charming and pretend the fairy-tale kiss had never happened.

What happened the morning after was something neither of you could have predicted.

Toji had been prepared to clear the air. To finally address what had been simmering between you for so long.

What he hadn’t expected, however, was the gaggle of employees gathered around you, taking turns to gawk at the offensive rock now sitting on your finger.

Seems there was a first time for everything. And today, it was Toji’s turn to experience heartbreak.

Weeks passed. You quietly resigned from your position as his assistant, moving to the R&D department without a word.

Not long after, the company was left reeling from Toji’s sudden decision to relocate to their overseas branch.

His excuse was at least better than yours.

It would be a lie to say you didn’t miss him.

After all, he had given you a taste of a foolish dream and a rebellious flight.

And you had been happy being his Icarus. Melting under the warm weight of his presence, even as you fell.

***

The current situation called for drastic measures.

In lieu of the beautiful sunny weather conditions, the employees had all but postponed the team-building event, turning it into an impromptu beach outing. A day full of sunbathing, frolicking, and volleyball in the sandy stretches of this slice of heaven on earth.

Unbeknownst to them, You were experiencing your own personal nightmare, as you stepped out on the balcony of your suite, watching your coworkers enjoy the lick of salty ocean breeze, while you stood there—rethinking all your life choices.

The screeching of kids running amok with sand in their hair, and the hustle-bustle of surfers and swimmers in their vibrant swim gear, sent a nauseating shiver down your spine.

Nope, absolutely not.

The waves whirled forward kissing the shore, making your stomach churn along with them, and it was then that you decided.

You were getting out of this. By any means necessary.

And as luck would have it, the perfect excuse landed right in your lap.

During breakfast, the hotel staff announced a blind date event. Guests would draw a ticket with a number, and whoever had the matching number would be paired together for a “cute” hiking date along the scenic woodland trails surrounding the resort.

It was the perfect escape plan.

Not only would you get to avoid the beach-loving festive fiends, but you’d also successfully dodge any further interaction with Toji. Two birds, one stone.

And who knows? Maybe, just maybe, if things went well, you’d actually have something to look forward to for the rest of the week.

It started off well.

You had dressed the part—leggings, a fitted tank top, and a lightweight jacket in case the trail got chilly. Your hair was tied back, your backpack slung over one shoulder, and for once, you had approached the day with genuine optimism.

But it was premature.

Somewhere between what should have been an easy right turn and the realization that the trees all looked the same, it dawned upon you.

You were lost.

You bit the inside of your cheek as panic crawled up your spine languidly, and glanced at your phone. Zero signal. Of course. No location services, no messages, no SOS. Just your surmounting bad decisions and the steadily creeping dread that this might be the dumbest way to go out.

“Brilliant,” you muttered under your breath, shoving your phone back into your pocket.

You tried retracing your steps, sticking close to where the canopy wasn’t too thick, where the sun still managed to filter through, in golden, dappled patches.

But then, because fate was a notorious sadist, you miscalculated a step.

A loose rock, a moment of imbalance, and the next thing you knew. Pain.

Sharp, piercing, sudden pain that left your mouth agape in a soundless scream—jolted up your ankle.

You sucked in a breath, stumbling forward until you caught yourself against the rough bark of a tree, heart thumping frantically against your ribs.

Just fucking perfect.

You squeezed your eyes shut, exhaling slowly through your nose, trying to will the ache away. Trying to wrack your brain to come up with an idea. Any idea, Why the hell wasn't your mind working?!

Maybe if you just—

A rustle.

A presence.

It wasn’t loud. Just the quiet shift of movement. Your shoulders straightened your senses on high alert, catching the faintest of sounds, feeling the almost imperceptible weight of someone watching.

You turned your head sharply, and your stomach dropped.

There, leaning against a tree, arms crossed, expression unreadable was Toji.

Your pulse stuttered, a weird sense of calm encased you, when his eyes held yours.

The dappled sunlight barely reached him, but even in the shade, he was impossible to miss. Broad shoulders draped in a fitted black compression shirt, sleeves snug around his forearms, veins peeking beneath the taut skin. Dark slacks hung low on his hips, a contrast against the sturdy boots planted effortlessly against the uneven terrain.

His hair—messy, unruly in a way that somehow suited him—shifted slightly with the breeze, and when his head tilted just a fraction, the motion caught the faint scar curving against his lip. His eyes, deep, sharp, impossibly green, trailed over you.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just watched. Taking in every single inch of your body. The way you were gripping the bark, the way you were trying and failing, not to put weight on your injured foot.

Then, slowly, deliberately, he pushed off the tree and made his way toward you.

“Lost?” His voice was as smooth as ever, but there was something else beneath it. Something sharper. An almost angry pointed jab.

You straightened, as if that would somehow lessen the indignity of this situation. With feigned bravado, you shot back, mulish, “No. I just—”

His gaze flickered to your foot. Then back up, unimpressed.

“Right,” he scoffed, not bothering to hide the skepticism in his tone.

You scowled, bristling at his calm, impassive demeanor. “What the hell are you even doing here?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he crouched in front of you, his large hands wrapping around your calf. The touch was firm, steady.

You jolted, instinctively trying to pull back. “Toji—”

“Hold still,” he hissed through gritted teeth, ignoring your half-hearted protest as he pressed his fingers carefully over your ankle, studying the injury.

You swallowed, heat curling up your spine at the sheer casualness of it all. The way he handled you without hesitation as if you were something fragile, something that required care.

His touch was soft, his fingers were cold, yet it left something searing in its wake.

A beat of silence stretched between you.

His fingers slowed. His thumb brushed over the sensitive skin near your Achilles, a quiet, absentminded gesture. Then he finally spoke, in a low measured tone.

“You’re always running off without thinking, aren’t you?”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. And a subtle nod at your shared past. A silent acknowledgement of the unmentionable incident.

He wanted you to know that he remembered.

So did you. As clear as yesterday.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly before standing, offering you his hand.

You eyed it. Then him. Desperately clinging onto your last bit of pride.

“I can walk,” you ground, forcing your voice to be steady.

He didn’t respond. Just waited. The guarded expression was back, save for the barest tilt of his head.

You hesitated.

A beat passed. A quiet staring match ensued. While your eyes read foolish resilience, his countered with a solid challenge. One that brooked no argument.

Finding yourself at a stalemate, you begrudgingly placed your hand in his.

His fingers curled around yours in a firm grip.

You half expected a cocky smirk or a teasing remark, but there was none.

And somehow, that made it worse.

The walk was sluggish. His hand remained around yours, firm but not forceful, a comforting touch that placated your frantically beating heart.

Your boots crunched softly against the earth, the only sounds filling the silence were the distant babble of a creek, the rhythmic drone of cicadas, and the occasional rustle of leaves.

Sunlight filtered through the canopy in flickering patches, casting shifting patterns on the forest floor.

His pace was perfect. He didn’t rush you, matching your steps with smaller measured strides.

For a while, neither of you spoke.

Then, finally…

“…What are you really doing here?” You murmured, breaking the quiet that had settled between you.

Toji didn’t answer right away. His grip on your hand tightened briefly as if contemplating how much he should let you know, before he exhaled.

“Tracking chip,” he said matter-of-factly.

You blinked, unsure if you heard him correctly, “What?”

He didn’t look at you, gaze still fixed ahead.

“The card you got for the blind date,” he clarified, tone soft, unhurried. “Had a tracking chip in it. For safety reasons.”

You frowned. And he sensed an argument coming so he raised his free hand, cutting you off before you spoke—

“It’s a precaution,” he continued. “So the hotel staff can locate anyone if they wander too far off the trails.”

Your brows furrowed, somehow you weren’t satisfied with his answer. Something didn’t add up.

“…So the hotel personally sent you to come find me?” You asked sharply. Pointedly.

No response.

Then, a slow, almost cocky smirk spread across his lips.

“No,” he admitted, finally glancing at you, amusement flickering behind dark green eyes. “I saw the alert and got there first.”

Your breath hitched.

Of course, he had.

This meddling, conniving, little—

You knew you would’ve eaten those words anyday. You did need his help. But you couldn't bring yourself to look past your petty grudges.

“You know, your expressions are so loud, I can almost hear them” He chuckled, bringing up a free hand to brush that strand of vibrant green away from your face.

You scoffed, yanking your hand back. “So what, you’ve taken up stalking now?”

You changed the topic, not wanting to get caught into his soft words and that beautiful beckoning gaze.

And it worked. The moment shattered.

Toji exhaled sharply, jaw ticking. “It’s called being prepared. Something you clearly weren’t.”

You bristled. “I would’ve been fine.”

He raised a sardonic brow, “You twisted your ankle on a fucking pebble.”

Your head snapped up, regaling him with a glare that could’ve burned a hole through him. “I was getting to my blind date just fine before you showed up.”

At that, his expression shifted. A flicker of irritation flashed across his features, he was unmistakably irked, but it was gone so quickly, that you wondered if you had imagined it.

“Right,” he scoffed, voice edged with a bite to it. “Because you’re so eager to throw yourself at some random idiot in hiking boots?”

Your arms flew up in exasperation. “Why do you even care?”

“I don’t,” he denied, a tad too quickly.

You narrowed your eyes. “Really? Because you’re acting pretty nosy for someone who doesn’t care.”

He paused. You knew you had done it now. Pushed him too far. Just when you were about to take back what you said—

Suddenly…out of nowhere…

“You’re such a goddamn escapist.” He whispered, low with venom coloring his voice.

And the words hit their intended mark. Direct. A low blow.

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he said, flat and steady. “You run the second shit gets too real.”

A disbelieving laugh bubbled up your throat. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

“You left,” he interjected. Unshaken. “You always leave.”

And somewhere deep inside you knew he was referring to that night in your car. When he had swallowed his pride, and silently held onto you. Desperately, almost begging with the way he had held your wrist. But you turned a blind eye to it all.

Even still, you opened your mouth, wanting to win this round with something equally hurtful—

Heat surged up your throat, an argument forming, but before you could fire back, his arms were suddenly around you.

Your stomach lurched as he lifted you with zero effort, one arm under your knees, the other bracing your back, pressing you against him.

“Toji—what the hell—”

“Shut. Up,” he growled, adjusting his grip as if you weighed nothing.

“For once in your life, stop fucking fighting”

You glared, oddly chastised, hands braced against his chest as you struggled in his iron grip. “Put me down.”

“No.”

You squirmed, but his hold didn’t budge. Somehow it felt tighter than before.

It was futile to argue at this point, so you gave up.

You wouldn't admit it, but you were weirdly comfortable, being held like this. His corded arms felt like a shield, cocooning you into his embrace.

The rhythmic sound of his boots crunching against the uneven terrain. The low whistles of air, sneaking past tiny gaps between rocks, and through the holes in the hollowed tree barks, made for a soothing backdrop. The creek nearby got louder, its wet slosh making you lament your sprained ankle.

If only you hadn’t been lost. You would have probably enjoyed your hike with that blind date. Stopped for a picnic near the creek. Exchanged conversations that made you bond over discovered common interests.

You let your eyes close, picturing that moment. But then…

You saw him. His unruly raven hair, moving with the gentle blow of the wind. His dark emerald eyes, as green and viridescent as the canopy of trees hanging overhead. His face, somehow even more beautiful with that scar at the corner of his mouth. And your heart missed several beats, with this sudden epiphany.

You opened your eyes and blinked at him. Taking him in fully, as he continued his walk. His peaceful expression was marred by a frown, a stern set of his jaw, as several thoughts swirled behind his head.

All this time, and it was always him.

Toji Zenin.

The reason behind your sorrows. The reason behind your smiles.

The contemplative hike came to an end, and it was then that you noticed that Toji hadn’t brought you back to the hotel. Instead, he strode up the worn concrete steps of a handsome Cabin. Something straight out of a fairy tale.

It was nestled comfortably between the trees. Its exterior was all warm wooden panels, a sloping roof, and a wraparound porch that overlooked the forest.

It was isolated in a quiet charm—dangerously inviting.

Your heart fluttered, and an anxious inquiry stuttered out of your lips.

“…This isn’t the hotel.”

Toji didn’t even glance back. He let out an exhausted sigh instead.

“Before you add kidnapping to my list of crimes, let me clarify—This is my personal Cabin. It was much nearer to the spot where I had found you. Going to the hotel would be a whole hike down, and it wasn’t possible with that ankle of yours. Tonight we’ll rest here. Tomorrow morning, I’ll call my driver, and the resort’s medical staff to look at your injury, and then we’ll leave. Any questions?” He drawled in a deadpan voice.

“No.” You paused, letting it swirl inside your mouth, kissing your teeth in an awkward stubbornness, but then with a resigned sigh, feebly added, “Thank you”

He nodded then unlocked the door with an electric tap of his keycard.

***

The water ran over your skin in hot, steady streams, pooling at your feet before swirling down the drain.

In your effort to escape the surmounting awkwardness, you had excused yourself, to hide. To bide your time, and calm your nerves.

You pressed your forehead against the cool tile and exhaled slowly.

Your ankle still ached, a dull throb pulsing beneath the warmth of the shower. But that wasn’t the real problem, was it?

No, the real problem was everything else.

You were supposed to be at the resort, on a mindless, easy blind date—exchanging pleasantries, indulging in meaningless conversation, giving yourself a distraction.

Instead, here you were.

In a forced proximity with the one man you wanted to avoid.

In a cabin, in the middle of practically nowhere, stranded with your boss of all people.

The boss that made you feel things you shouldn’t.

You squeezed your eyes shut, dragging a hand down your face.

There was no escaping him now.

Not here. Not like this.

With a deep breath, you turned the water off and braced yourself.

You stepped out, wincing as your weight shifted onto your bad ankle. Gritting your teeth through it, you limped towards the mirror, swiping a hand over the fogged glass.

Your reflection stared back. Tired and beat

You needed to get a grip.

You inhaled and exhaled. Another breath, another lingering moment, and then steeling yourself, you stepped out of the bathroom.

The first thing that your eyes caught was the white bathrobe that lay neatly folded on the bed.

You stared at it.

Touched it, almost hesitantly, fingers grazing the soft fabric before you picked it up and slipped it on, tying the sash securely around your waist.

It was Warm. Freshly laundered. A weirdly thoughtful gesture from a man who liked to pretend he didn’t care.

You could smell him on it, all pine and petrichor.

Shaking your head, you shoved that thought aside, padding towards the living room.

In your hurry to escape earlier, you hadn't let yourself savor the luxurious yet warm, welcoming interior of Toji’s cabin.

It was modest but beautiful. Wooden interiors, high ceilings. The furniture was functional, but lived-in. The couch was a deep-toned leather, a low coffee table cluttered with books, and the faint remnants of a fire still smoldered in the hearth.

But then you noticed, with a surprised start—

There was no light.

Instead, the room was bathed in the flickering glow of pine-scented candles, their flames swaying with the breeze that sneaked in through the drafts in the windows.

And Toji.

Standing by the window, lighting another one.

He had changed.

He looked impeccable, in his simple black t-shirt and loose grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips.

His hair was still wet from the shower, droplets of water rolling down his nape only to disappear somewhere in his shirt. His broad shoulders cast long shadows.

His sharp profile was illuminated by the wavering candlelight.

There was a certain allure about the sight of him—calm, steady, domestic—that made your stomach coil.

He glanced up, meeting your gaze, and you stared back, enraptured. The rain danced across the window, sliding down in swirls of beautiful tendrils colored golden by the flicker of candles inside.

Unable to take any more of this stare down, you decided to break the silence.

“You look like a cult leader,” you blurted, a pathetic attempt at easing this weird tension.

Toji blinked, then exhaled through his nose, snorting, almost amused as he replied, “You’re welcome.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Where’s the power?”

“Storm knocked it out,” he said, placing the lighter down. “Won’t be back till morning.”

You nodded, soaking in the information. Wouldn’t be the first time you had spent the whole night with Toji Zenin.

But then, that was when you and him had a strictly business relationship. And now, you didn’t know where you stood. And that left a certain stain of doubt, a splatter of something more, onto this pristine white pretext of a situation. You had no reason to be with him here, alone.

Yet you were. And the worst part was, he didn’t seem to mind. The proximity was welcome on his part.

Outside, the wind whistled through the trees, the rain was persistent now, tapping against the windows in slow, rhythmic beats. The storm wrapped around the cabin, folding it into its embrace, secluding it further from the world.

You pulled your robe tighter, shifting your weight as you felt the room close in on you.

Toji ran a hand through his damp hair, his gaze raked over you, too lingering to call it casual.

“This is weird,” you muttered.

He smirked. “A little.”

Another long pause. The room was surrounded by a weird vacuum of pregnant silence.

You looked everywhere but him.

While, Toji’s gaze dropped to your feet, catching you subtly shifting your weight from one to the other, he observed the way you kept adjusting your stance to avoid putting pressure on your bad ankle.

A sigh escaped him and he rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Sit.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Your leg,” he said, already turning toward the kitchen. “I’ll wrap it before it swells any worse.”

You hesitated. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

You bristled. “Toji, seriously—”

But he was already grabbing a first aid kit from the cabinet, moving with that same quiet decisiveness that left no room for argument. When he turned back to you, his expression was determined and you knew you’d lost this battle before it even began.

With a reluctant sigh, you lowered yourself onto the couch.

The cushions sank beneath you as he crouched at your feet, effortlessly settling into a position that should have been uncomfortable. But, it wasn’t. Not for him.

Before you could think to stop him, his hands were on you.

Warm, big, and calloused.

His fingers skimmed over your calf, adjusting the angle of your leg. Your robe shifted with the motion, parting slightly to reveal the plush curve of your thigh.

And You saw the moment he noticed.

The slight shift in his eyes.The way his throat worked. The way his fingers tightened just a smidge, before he tore his gaze away, mouth pressing into a firm line.

Neither of you chose to acknowledge it.

Instead, he focused on his task, pulling out a roll of bandages and beginning to wrap your ankle with practiced ease. His touch was firm but careful. Not gentle, but thorough.

To dissipate the tension, you grasped for conversation��any conversation.

“How’d you even learn to do this?”

Toji smirked slightly, not looking up. “You think I made it through life without getting knocked around?”

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “No, but I figured you’d just walk it off and call it a day. You don’t seem the type”

“Sometimes.” He tugged the wrap snug around your ankle, securing it in place. “But I had to learn at some point. Can’t always rely on someone else to patch me up.”

Something about the way he said it, lingered.

You swallowed, shifting against the cushions. “Well… thanks.”

Toji nodded, gaze flicking up. His eyes were on you, probing, searching. As if he was debating whether he should do something.

And you got your answer when he braced his arms on either side you—

“You ran,” he murmured, point blank.

Your heart stuttered at his proximity. The bluntness of his question makes you lose several beats, trying to formulate some response, only to come up blank.

“You ran that night,” he repeated, voice strangely calm, controlled, but his eyes told a different story. “After I kissed you in the car.” This time, his tone held an almost accusatory note to it.

You inhaled sharply, and looked away. This was long coming. You should’ve known that he would want a clarification someday.

And he had decided that it was going to be now. When you had no way to escape. To run like you always do.

“You don’t have to answer,” he went on, turning back to your ankle. “I already know why.”

Something in the way he said that, made your chest tighten. He deserved to know. He had all the right to ask you this.

But like the coward you are, instead of giving him the truth, instead of admitting that your world had tilted, unraveled, and collapsed in that moment—

You lied.

“It didn’t mean anything,” you said, forcing the words past your lips. “I didn’t feel the same way.”

Toji’s hands stilled, and you felt like a jerk because going by the myriad of expressions flitting across his face, that hurt him.

It had to have hurt.

He didn’t say anything immediately. Instead, he settled with a blank look. His walls were up, higher than ever.

He knew you inside out, but he didn’t call you out on the blatant lie you’d just fed him.

Instead, he let it settle, like a chasm stretching between you both.

He tilted his head ever so slightly. Dark emerald eyes studying, dissecting, contemplating,

Until he spoke.

“That so?”

Your stomach churned at the mild challenge and determination you saw reflected in his eyes.

You should’ve known he wouldn’t let this go.

“Toji,” you muttered, shifting guiltily under his scrutiny, but he wasn’t done.

“If you didn’t feel the same,” he pressed, “then why the fuck did you show up the next day wearing his ring?”

That… that caught you off guard.

He knew.

Of course, he did.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. To sell your lie as much as you could “It wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it like?” he challenged, one brow arching in open skepticism.

A muscle in your jaw twitched. This wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have. Not now. Not ever.

But Toji was like a predator who had smelled blood in the water.

He leaned forward, forearms resting on his thighs, dangerously close, leveling you with a domineering look. “We both know things weren’t fucking perfect with him, or else I wouldn’t have found you crying alone in your car that night.”

“So tell me,” he said, voice taunting, unrelenting, “why’d you suddenly go running back? Just what miraculous change occurred overnight that you decided to marry that man hours after you had let me kiss you?”

Your fingers curled into the robe, resisting the urge to flinch.

You should walk away. Should end this now.

But instead, you exhaled sharply, eyes flicking down to your lap.

“He didn’t blow me off that night.”

Toji didn’t react, but you could feel the shift in the air.

“He was out,” you continued, voice feebler now, almost ashamed, “Ring shopping.”

Your words somehow widened that invisible chasm.

“He proposed the second I got home,” you admitted, a bitter smile curling at your lips. “And I said yes.”

Toji’s jaw clenched. “Because you wanted to?” He stressed.

Your stomach twisted, heart jumping up your throat.

“No,” you sighed. “Because I felt guilty.”

That did something to him.

His expression darkened. You expected him to be angry, but the look he gave you was something far worse.

It was understanding.

“So that’s it, huh?” he whispered, sitting back, raking a hand through his already messy hair. “You felt bad, so you figured you’d just settle. After All your life is some sort of a bargaining chip meant to be thrown away, because you felt like you had to compensate him somehow. Right?”

You hated how easily he cut you open and picked you apart.

Hated that he was right.

You exhaled sharply, frustration lacing your tone. “Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

And then he laughed, low, victorious. He seized the opening he was waiting for, ever since he had seen you in the hotel that day.

His gaze flickered to your hands, then back up. He traced your empty ring finger, touching the lighter skin there, where the ring should’ve been.

“Then tell me,” he smiled, almost amused now, almost cruel.

“If you were so sure about him, why the fuck is there no ring on your finger? What did that sacrifice leave you with…You should’ve been married by now, shouldn’t you?”

Your breath caught, and tears of embarrassment sprung to your eyes, but you held them back.

You should’ve seen that coming.

You looked away, exhaling slowly. “Because we broke up.”

For the first time all night, Toji actually looked surprised.

He had half expected something like, ‘We’re on a break’ but not this.

“For good?”

“For good.”

His gaze was stormy. His expression—a kaleidoscope of feelings. Things had finally fallen into place now. He had gotten the missing pieces to the puzzle. But there was something that still left him with dissatisfaction.

This wasn’t enough for him.

You could sense it.

Before he could say something else, you cut in, babbling at this point, to fill the uneasy silence.

“And that’s why I wanted to go on a blind date today.”

His jaw ticked at that. He was much more open now. You could see his feelings reel on his face like a movie.

You hadn’t missed the irritation that surged off of him in waves.

It was your turn to interrogate now. And you leapt at the opportunity.

“Why do you even care? You left too. And you have been perfectly fine living oceans away”

He didn’t answer right away. You didn’t get the response you had so anticipated. No explanation, no half-assed excuse

Just a steady unwavering gaze, locked onto you.

And then all at once, he moved. So fast that you barely had the time to react.

A sharp inhale, his hand cupping your jaw, tilting your face up. And before you could speak, before you could even think—

He kissed you.

His lips caught yours with a searing force. It unraveled something in you that you weren’t ready to face.

A muffled squeak caught in your throat, your hands flew to his nape, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer.

But when Toji tilted his head, deepening the kiss—something in you cracked.

A sigh slipped from your lips, soft, surrendering, inevitable.

Because this was always inevitable, wasn’t it?

You opened your mouth slightly, and Toji groaned, tongue slipping in, tasting, exploring, taking greedily something that was always his. Like he was rewarding himself, the delayed gratification of someone who had waited for far too long.

His fingers dug into your waist, possessive, sure, and in between heated kisses, between stolen breaths, he whispered, nipping at your lower lip.

“Do you still not feel anything?”

You should have told him the truth. Should have admitted that the way he touched you, the way he consumed you, made something inside you collapse, burn, and dissolve at the same time.

Instead, you kissed him back harder, deeper, needier, like he was an oasis in the middle of a desert. Like you had been parched for a taste.

“No, I don’t.”

Toji chuckled darkly against your lips, teeth grazing, teasing. Enjoying this game of push and pull.

“Liar,” he murmured.

You barely had time to react before he took charge. You could feel that your words had goaded him into a challenge that he took all too seriously.

A large, calloused hand slipped down your jaw, pausing at your neck. He squeezed, just a little, just enough to make you shiver in anticipation. Then his hand journeyed down, downwards beneath the robe, moving it aside to expose your sensitive skin. His eager exploration slowed, choosing to let his fingertips map the uncharted territory with extreme leisure. He teased with light touches.

To your collarbone, the swell of your breasts, while he devoured you with his gaze. You could see that it was taking him every ounce of control to not hurry this along and just take what he wanted. Needed. Craved.

Rather, his other hand splayed against your back, pressing you flush against him, making sure you felt just how much he wanted you.

You gasped, feeling the rigid planes of his muscles against your plushness, feeling his throbbing erection brush against your stomach.

Your sharp inhale was cut off by his lips capturing yours again, swallowing the sound with a groan.

His hands moved slowly, deliberately, teasingly, dragging a myriad of sensations over your skin. He played you like an instrument. Palming, and cupping your breasts, thumb running over the pebbled nipples, pulling and pinching softly.

Your mind felt fuzzy, your thoughts slipping through your fingers like sand as he pressed fervent kisses along your jaw, down the column of your throat, sucking, biting, leaving open-mouthed wet and warm kisses, murmuring against your skin—

“Still nothing?”

You shivered in response, as his mouth descended to your collarbones and the valley between your breasts. He swirled his tongue around one pebbled peak, tasting and biting at your flesh, while he played with the other, kneading and squeezing until you were a puddle under his touch. All pliant and mewling.

He smirked against your breast, now lavishing the other with attention, pleased with your reactions, with the sounds he was drawing out of you. And you soon felt yourself develop a second heartbeat between your legs.

Without warning, his arms slid around you, lifting you effortlessly.

A startled gasp left your lips as he carried you through the dimly lit cabin, past flickering candlelight and storm-swept windows.

The air was thick, the silence broken by the sound of your fervent kisses. Your lips meeting each other in an almost frenzied need.

You barely had time to think before your back met the sheets, and Toji hovered over you, eyes dark, lips curling.

“You gonna keep lying to me? To yourself? Because I have the whole night to prove otherwise” he husked, voice deep, teasing, and full of promise.

“So…” he drawled, ducking down to bite at your earlobe, before soothing it with a flick of his tongue, “What’s it gonna be? Yes or No?”

When your only reply was a stubborn show of silence, he chuckled.

“I see” his gaze sparkled with excitement, resembling a predator preparing for a hunt “So that’s how it’s gonna be”

The surrealness of the situation wasn’t lost on you. You couldn’t believe that this was happening. That You were in Toji’s bed, half-naked, covered in the marks left behind by him.

Your chest heaved, and you pressed your thighs together to relieve the unabashed need.

Yes, you needed this man. Carnally. Biblically. Sinfully.

Lust in rivulets of undulated heat traversed through your body. He hadn’t removed your robe completely, yet you felt naked under his eyes.

Those emerald eyes. Storm-laden and destructive.

Strange how you saw your damnation and salvation married in them.

“One last chance to back out” his tone was business-like, a stark contrast to his earlier teasing remarks, as his finger looped around the belt of your robe.

“Because when I accept a challenge…” he grinned wolfishly, when you rewarded him with a nod of consent, “I play to win”

He paused, letting out a breath, before finally pulling. A soft tug and there was no going back.

You were completely exposed to him, in your wet and wanton glory.

He pulled the robe gently, from underneath you and tossed it away, never taking his gaze off of you. As if he half expected you to disappear.

“You’re beautiful” he whispered, caressing every inch of you with his lascivious eyes.

You were sure when you started, that this was going to be a one-night thing.

A night when you pilfer from the treasures of desires you kept sealed away, safe out of your own reach.

But when he lowered himself, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead— it was then that you felt the first tremors of fear. The whispers of doubt at your foolish impulsive decision. What the hell are you even doing?

This was a bad bad idea. You can’t move on after this. This was Toji Zenin, how could you ever forget him, after you let yourself experience what it feels like to be his. A single night wouldn’t be enough, a single night would wreck you and fuck—

Your hands flew to his hair, fingers threading through the locks as he found your neck again, nuzzling, nipping, moving down with urgent intent.

He trailed open-mouthed kisses, on your collarbone, the swell of your breasts, your stomach, then his hands grabbed the plush of your thighs, squeezing, gently nudging them open, as he made his descent.

He dawdled, leaving a teasing bite at your hip bone, then puffing out a breath, he paused, eyes melting into yours as he pushed your legs apart further. Looking at you from in between them.

His emerald eyes almost burned, like a forest fire, and he captured yours with their smokey, wispy, tendrils. Binding your gaze into a hypnotic pull.

You swore you saw a ghost of a smile linger on his lips when he yanked you forward, dragging your hips to the edge of the bed, but it disappeared when he ducked his head down and licked a long languid stripe.

From your aching clit, to your beckoning heat, and back up, teasing, tasting, sucking as if his life depended on it.

He set a torturous rhythm, his fingers dug into the curves, dimples, and divets of your thighs, prying them open and wider, as he hungrily feasted on your juices.

“Hah fuck you taste so damn good” he murmured, in between sloppy kisses to your cunt, greedily delving in between your folds, like it was his last meal.

You had long lost any sense of shame, your hips had a mind of their own, bucking in time with the firm strokes of his tongue, chasing that sweet pleasure that he was so readily giving you.

“Oh my god…Toji…yessss” you cried out, in delicious agony.

“You like that baby? Like the way I make you feel?” He mumbled, the sound muffling against your sex, he lost himself in between your legs, eyes closed, as he worshipped at your altar.

Clarity was so far away, hidden behind a wave of lust-addled haze. The words almost tipped over your tongue, at his sly questioning, but then, you bit your palm, holding back any foolish confessions that would be difficult to take back, focusing instead on chasing your pleasure selfishly.

“What did I ask?” He hummed, the vibrations making your hips jerk and your eyes roll back, “I need you to say it, darling. Do you like the way I make you feel?”

“Shit…Toji…mnnnhh” you bit your lip, in a feeble attempt to deflect, but he was having none of it.

You were too far gone, yet he was still very much in control. He moved his hand up your body, cupping your jaw, making your gaze meet his, as he caught your clit with other, pinching and sucking you into overstimulation.

He drove you close to that sweet release, dangled it before you like bait, only to snatch it away.

You whined, a desperate plea slipping out of you pathetically, “pleasepleasepleaseplease”

“Please what?” He smirked, still moving his palm on your cunt in painfully slow circles, “let you come?” He taunted, flashing you his canines in a smug, shit-eating grin. He had you right where he wanted you.

“Use your words,” he stressed, voice all saccharine sweet, as if he wasn’t actively edging you into madness, “Tell me how I make you feel, and I’ll let you come”

“Toji please” you plead, “I’ll be good, please—“ you whined and begged, moving your hips against the slow motion of his hands, desperate to get some much-needed friction.

“Uh uh uh, that is not the right answer I’m afraid.” Yet his gaze softened, and he folded, “But I’m not a monster” He chuckled, as you squealed in surprise and grateful relief, hips rising off the bed, when he went down on you again.

Just when you thought you’d die of deprivation, he inserted two long fingers in you, pumping them in and out expertly, pulling an earth-shattering orgasm with that ‘come-hither-motion’, while he held you close to his mouth, tasting, licking every last drop of your release like his own personal nectar.

You caught your breath, your throat hoarse from all the noises you let out. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Toji lift his shirt. He was standing before his floor-length mirror.

You always knew he was muscular under those compressed shirts that left little to the imagination. But seeing the actual thing? The broad shoulders, the chiseled abs, the tan corded lines of pure muscle—rippling before you, as he removed his shirt, his back muscles flexing in the process, and you felt your pussy clench around nothing, with a shameless need.

This man was lethal for your heart.

Feeling your eyes on him, he smirked. Catching your gaze in the reflection of the mirror, daring you to look. He pulled at his drawstrings and pushed his sweatpants to his thighs, then his boxers, freeing his throbbing cock from its confines.

He was already leaking pre-cum, the wet noises of his palm fisting at his length, made you open your legs and match him—with a hand slipping between your folds.

You gathered the slick pooling there from your recent orgasm and slipped two digits in, groaning, moaning, imagining his huge cock filling you to the brim.

This was unbelievably hot. His reverent gaze on you, and his insistent palm moving up and down his erection, fucking his fist to the chants of your name.

“Yes baby, just like that” he praised, his eyes never leaving yours, as he bit his lip, looking at your reflection with a deep-seated appreciation.

While the more explicit expressions overtook the moment, for Toji it was something that he cherished beyond words.

He was hot and bothered, he was needy, he lusted like a fiend for you, yet he wished to make love to you. To reach the deepest parts of you, and to make you his. Mark you forever, so that no one would dare take what was his.

So when you both reached your peaks, crying out each other’s name in soft cries of pleasure, he removed his sweatpants entirely and bounded towards the bed. Without wasting another second, he pulled you into a wet, messy, sloppy kiss.

His hands moved under your thighs, cupping your ass, corded arms supporting your weight, as he carried you to stand before the mirror. Facing it. Looking at all your flaws and foibles up close while he hugged from behind, skin against feverish skin. His hands never left your body, touching, teasing, pinching, and squeezing. His face lodged in the crook of your neck, making blooms of hickeys that would last for days.

“Look at me” he whispered, a hand splaying at your stomach, the other wrapping around your waist.

And to be honest? You simply couldn’t look away even if you tried.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

You were done lying, done pretending that you didn’t want this man.

“Then hold on tight”

Your fingers found purchase on his biceps, holding for dear life, as his hands slid to the back of your knees, lifting you, and bringing your legs to your chest.

A wild blush rose up your neck when you saw your reflection. You were exposed, utterly so. And entirely in his hands. This required so much trust on your part, and somehow, it came naturally.

You trusted Toji. Because he was Toji.

He was your rock. Someone who always found you.

Someone you could rely on, someone that you Lo—Ohhhhh

No warning whatsoever, as his huge cock lined with your cunt, entering it in one go.

A groan of pleasure reverberated through Toji, and he bit at your neck, slowly thrusting into your warm tight heat.

This was madness. It was not supposed to feel this good.

Yet here you were, mouth agape, tears streaming down your eyes, stuffed to the hilt, getting fucked in front of a mirror.

You watched his cock slide out halfway before he rammed it back in, setting a brutal pace. The room echoed with the obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh. His hot breaths on your neck, his lips nipping at the shell of your ear.

“See what you do to me?” He husked, voice a heady rumble, “I can’t help it, you’re fucking perfect”

The rain had cleared into a light drizzle, making the first spots of stars appear like tiny specks in the inky sky.

They bore witness to this passionate embrace shared by you and him.

Two souls, getting acquainted in the most primal of ways, intertwined. Lost into each other, not quite aware, of how they loved more than lovers.

***

Warm morning sun, notoriously peeped at the bare tangle of limbs, nestled into an intimate embrace.

Remnants of last night lingered as mementos on your skin, unfurled like sakura in bloom.

Remembering the past years, when he woke up to the blare of an alarm, and the cold empty spot next to him, Toji murmured a secret prayer, grateful to whichever God had blessed him.

For he did feel blessed. Immensely.

He sat up in bed, bracing himself on an elbow, as he took you in. Your soft cheeks, he thought, that he would never tire of touching. And never admit, to having thought about biting into the apples of them, on many a slow afternoon.

Your brown hair was like a waterfall that cascaded under his fingers. He secretly loved the green streak in your hair—it made him remind of his own eyes.

Your plump lips.

He was jealous…Of the rouge that sat upon them preening.

No matter how much Toji tried to hide, to bury himself in his work, to avoid you, Fate had been weirdly persistent with the way it always tried to bring him back to you.

His first and the last heartbreak.

Slipping out the sheets, Toji grabbed a pen and a sticky note. If he was going to do this, he would do this correctly.

***

The morning melted into afternoon, its poignant warmth settled across the room with a lazy stretch.

Your eyes opened, bones heavy with a sated bliss. There was an ache in your muscles. A mark left behind by him on your body. Another solid print onto the pages of your memory.

You rose, finally leaving the comforting embrace of the bed, half expecting to see him mill about.

Putting on some slippers and a fresh robe again, you made a tour of the house, eyes keenly searching for that familiar mess of black hair.

But the cabin was empty. Populated by dust motes, and the lingering scent of pine candles, that lay in puddles of melted wax over various pieces of furniture, across the living room.

You fought off the disappointment bubbling up your throat; reminding yourself that he wasn’t your boyfriend. That one night didn’t translate to something more.

Just when you were about to leave the living room, your gaze landed on the dining table.

There was a covered tray of food, and a sticky note on top.

To my work wife, By now, I know you’ve already imagined the worst. It’s okay, I understand. I would have too if I woke up alone after last night—after what we shared. Sweetheart, I may look like a jerk, but I don’t hit and run. I know you, and that’s why I wanted you to have this day to yourself. To sit back, relax, and really think about what you want. Because I want you. Not just for a night. For every single night henceforth, until the day I die. Tucked by my side, safe and sound—just like this morning. So that I don’t have to find excuses like blind dates just to steal mere hours with you. If your answer is yes, you’ll find plane tickets in the drawer of my nightstand. If you want. If you’ll have me, that is. Yours, Toji P.S. Please heat up the lunch—I made your favorite. P.P.S. I’ve scheduled an appointment for your ankle. The doctor will be here in the evening. My place is at your disposal. Enjoy the rest of the work trip, and don’t miss me too much. P.P.P.S. AND NO MORE BLIND DATES.

You tried—and failed—to stifle the stupid grin that spread across your face when you found the plane tickets to Japan in his drawer, booked under the name Mrs. Zenin.

But that wasn’t all.

Inside lay a token, identical to the one you had received from the hotel staff for the blind date event—bearing the exact same number as yours.

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