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textmel8r · 3 months

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[ DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( tenth installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro

୨୧˚ cw; sugar mommy! reader , sugar baby! toji , profanity , prostitution , drug and alcohol abuse , smut , allusions to hypersexuality , bisexual! toji

୨୧˚ an; okay there is seriously something wrong with my ability to tag people, certain blog names don’t come up when i search them it’s pissing me offfff SO SORRY if you’re on the tag list and you didn’t get tagged😣

୨୧˚ join my discord server ! we share headcanons, fanfic recs, color roles, and more drooling emoji

Thunderous bangs against his apartment’s front door rouse Toji from comatose. He wakes with a sharp inhale, eyes screwing shut because the sunlight that flooded through the bars of his dusty blinds singed his retinas. There’s a beat of silence, one that makes Toji believe his guest has walked off, and he cuddles back into the sofa with solid intentions of returning to dream state, however those plans go up in flames when more aggressive knocking chimes. The man groans, fingers clawing into the scrappy throw pillow his face is currently buried into.

“Fuck off!” Toji growls. His voice is muffled and crackling with excess exhaustion. He is so not in the mood for company right now.

“Fushiguro cut the shit, I’m not playing with you today.” Ugh, that voice. “Open the damn door, don’t make me bust it down.”

More pounding, and the rusty hinges creak from the pressure of it. Given no other choice, Toji peels himself off his crappy little couch and sits for a moment, dragging a heavy hand down his face. There’s a half empty can of Coke perched on the coffee table, amongst a plethora of other trash, and Toji snags it. It’s lost carbonation, totally flat and lukewarm, but it satiates his thirst good enough.

The knob twists, clinking against the lock impatiently. “Untwist your panties, I’m comin’,” He barks before muttering Jesus Christ under breath. It’s no surprise to see Shiu Kong when he draws open his door, standing erect with his arms crossed in irritation. Toji scowls, “what do you want?”

Shiu knocks shoulders to his when he grants himself entrance, much to Toji’s chagrin. “So you are alive?”

“Still kickin’, yeah.”

Shiu stands in the middle of the living room, flitting over the unkempt scene. It’s a mess, littered with crushed cans and hollowed take-out boxes and dirty laundry. Heavy glass bottles lined the floor near the sofa, some filled halfway with translucent, amberish liquid, some bone dry. “I see you been busy,” the man inquired, sarcastic as all Hell.

Toji sighs. “Yep.”

“You should crack a window or something, man. It reeks like the inside of a flask in here.”

“I’ll do that,” no he won’t, “what do you want?”

Shiu scoffs at his gall, but Toji wants him out of his place as soon as possible. He knows why his handler has come to visit, it’s most likely a work thing. Fuck work. Fuck Shiu for barging in and interrupting his afternoon nap. Fuck his apartment for being embarrassingly filthy.

“You’ve been ducking my calls. I don’t appreciate that.”

“Y’know, most people would take that as a sign to fuck off.”

“I’m not most people, though, am I?” He takes a seat on the couch. Toji doesn’t follow suit, choosing to stay leaned against the wall. “I’m technically your superior.”

“You think that title means jack to me?”

Shiu ignores the attitude; he’s used to taking shit from Toji for the better part of a decade now. “It should.” Silence cuts in, and he leans down to pluck one of the thick bottles off the floor by its neck. Liquor sloshes around in the constraint of glass, and Shiu holds it up to the light and skims the label. “This is cheap shit.”

Yeah, it was stupid cheap. Toji swiped it off the clearance rack at the gas station around the corner from his complex. They started tagging the alcohol, made it more difficult to steal, so he exclusively bought the least expensive liquor he could find. “Don’t gotta be smooth. Don’t gotta be much of anything, s’long as it fucks me up.” He didn’t drink rum on a Thursday at 3:42 pm for the taste.

Shiu hums, looking oddly unnerved. Still holding the bottle, he jerks it up in a slight gesture. “What’s the occasion?” Followed by an awkward chuckle. Toji itches the base of his scalp, pushing down his bed hair.

“Dunno.”

He was just sort of… regressing. Backsliding into the open arms of his beloved vices. Day drinking again, sloshing himself into liquor-induced unconsciousness that puts him to sleep for days. He starts hitting the casinos more frequently, tapping into poker games and betting away money he doesn’t have because the adrenaline of it all is orgasmic. Drugs have weaved themselves back into Toji’s routine as well; he’s been snorting the pricey shit that gets him numb in the face and leaves that nasty taste dripping in the back of his throat. Shit he hasn’t fucked with since his wife’s death.

Well, he supposes he’s always been like this. Clinging onto some sort of substance to distract himself from the pain of being alive in a Zenin’s body, no matter how damaging or problematic it may be. His childhood looms over him, even as a grown man, and it’s so terribly pathetic to still be hung up on shit that happened over two decades ago. But he apologetically is. Toji is a pathetic, woeful piece of shit who is forever haunted by memories.

Distractions. They weren’t always mutilating. Not all of them tore apart his body and soul. Sometimes, they were beautiful.

His tongue twitches in his mouth, aching to curl around a cigarette.

Shiu huffs, setting the bottle back down near his feet. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah,” Toji nods curtly, licking at his dry lips. “I’m straight.”

“Right,” his handler responds slowly, entirely unconvinced. “You’ve been skimping out on your assignments. It’s fucking me over, Fushiguro.”

Toji hasn’t taken up a job in nearly three months. Not since the night he left your place and walked home in the pouring rain. It was funny—he hadn’t thought it was a bluff when you threatened to call the police. No, Toji expected his apartment complex to be swarmed with officers when he returned but… nothing besides crickets. That night was seared into his frontal lobe, every motion engraved and vivid behind his eyes. Still soaked to the bone, he melted into the couch and stared up at his water-damaged ceiling for hours before slumber pulled him into its embrace.

Toji hasn’t slept in his bed since.

“Oh, so that’s why you came to visit. Boss is cuttin’ your pay with me gone.” Toji smiles bitterly, then juts his lower lip out in a mock pout. “Aww, that must be so hard for you, I’m sorry. You can cry about it on the ride home in your fucking Bentley.”

“Hey asshole, this isn’t just a me thing. Your slacking affects both our paychecks.” Shiu rakes a hand through his gelled do, and Toji is acutely aware of the luxury watch glinting on his wrist. “I mean, shit, where have you even been getting your cash from lately? How have you been keepin’ the lights on in this shithole?”

That last question is a mystery to Toji, as well. Truth is, he hasn’t put a penny towards rent since he came back. Eviction was inevitable, he’d ride out the days he had left and then figure out what to do when he received his week’s notice. Only that pink slip of paper never appeared taped to his door. Surely, you weren’t still covering it… Not with the way you and him ended terms so roughly… But what the fuck else could it be? Toji wanted to ask you about it; wanted to use this entire situation as an excuse to contact you, but he couldn’t muster up the courage and resolve. Talking to you again sounded so fucking sweet, but so, so fucking painful.

Toji didn’t answer, and Shiu grimaced at his quietness. On the couch, Shiu shifted uncomfortably, leaning forward to rest his elbows over his thighs. “You’re not,” he struggles for a moment to find the words, squinted eyes drilling holes into Toji’s. “Tell me you ain’t whoring again.”

Sex was Toji’s grimiest form of escapism. He started fucking other people again.

Mostly women, with a few men sprinkled in between. Gender was irrelevant; genitalia didn’t matter much to him in the grand scheme of things, Toji only fucked casually for the sensation of a warm body to hold onto. Vying for satisfaction with a partner, competing for release; it became a damn near nightly procedure at this point. Scouring bars in the dark hours for any willing participant, then fucking one out in the filth of the public restroom. His sweaty back against the stall, or him seated on the lid of a toilet. It was gross, he was gross.

Again, Toji is silent, and it speaks volumes. “God, man.” Shiu holds his face, pinching his brow bone, maneuvering the muscles in his jaw. He doesn’t sound angry or annoyed, just disappointed, and it makes Toji feel unnaturally immature; like he were a child again, getting a scolding from the family’s housekeeper for accidentally knocking the vase at the center of his dining table over and shattering it on the ground. “That’s—you can’t be doing this again.”

“Yeah well I don’t exactly got the resume for a nine to five, now do I?” He was forever tainted by his past. No employer in the country would hire a man with four jail sentences, drug misdemeanors, battery charges, no education, no work experience… the list of Toji’s fuck ups could fill a dictionary front to back.

“You cannot go back to that.” Shiu looks pale in the face. I’m making him sick to his stomach.

“Money is money. Don’t hear you whining when you got me playing assassin for you, but God forbid I suck a coupla’ cocks for cash.” Toji pushes off the wall and stalks towards the tiny kitchenette on the far side of this cramped living space; this conversation is irritating him, he needs something to quell his cotton mouth. “Fix your morals, then we can talk.”

Shiu’s argument was mind numbingly idiotic. Comparing slaughter to sex for money, the absurdity nearly made Toji burst out laughing. Sex never killed anyone.

He’s rooting around in the fridge. It’s practically bare, housing nothing more than a few take out boxes and some lager, but that’s alright. Toji tears a can of beer from the plastic six-pack ring, and when he pops out from the refrigerator, Shiu stands there with his hip against the small counter. “You’re self-destructing.”

The can cracks open. Beer carbonation pops and hisses. “Am I?” Toji sniggers, tossing back a swig. Shiu’s eyes flit to the beverage, nose wrinkling. Toji catches on and nods to the kitchen sink. It’s full of dirty dishes. “Faucet’s fucked. Water’s full of lead. This is the only drink in the house and I’m thirsty, so hop off.”

“You’re self-destructing,” Shiu repeats once more, not matching Toji’s humorous lilt. “I’m serious, Fushiguro. You’re off.”

“What do you want me to say to that besides fuck you?”

It grows quiet again. The air is warm and thick and rife with apprehension; it presses on Toji’s chest like a sleeping cat. “So what?” Finally, Shiu speaks. “That’s it?”

He shakes his head contentedly. “That’s it.”

“You understand this is going to be Hell for me from now on. You’re the best hired gun on my roster, the boss is gonna have my ass if you quit.”

Toji takes a long sip of beer. “You’re tough. You can handle it.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Shiu breathes, but there’s no real malice behind his words. “If you’re really serious about quitting, then fine. Fucking fine, I’ll—” He groans, massaging his temple, “I’ll handle it. But I’m telling you, this is the best it gets for guys like us.”

The best it gets is killing men. Leaving wives widowed, leaving kids fatherless. “Can’t be.” Toji feels nauseous at the thought. “There’s gotta be more.” There has to be. It’s the only affirmation that stops him from knocking back the whole bottle of vicodin in his bathroom medicine cabinet and calling it a night.

“This is how the world works. This is us being punished for being shitty people.”

Toji doesn’t have anything to say to that. He refuses to acknowledge it.

Shiu rubs at his nape, pushing off the counter. “Look, I only dropped by to get on your ass for playing hooky, wasn’t exactly expecting… all of this. But, uh,” despite their expansive acquaintanceship with one another, they never really got a hang of the whole sentimental bit. Shiu tries for a moment, mouth opening and closing a few times as the words die on his tongue, before finally settling on a long exhale through the nostrils. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his slacks, squaring his shoulders. “Just stay safe, would ya?”

Toji salutes lazily. “Aye aye.”

Shiu ducks his head in a wide nod. “Good, good. And uh, you got my number. So use it if you need to.”

Toji can tell that Shiu is trying to dole out formalities in the most unconventional way possible, so he helps him out by chuckling. “Get the fuck outta my house already.” Then, he drains the last few ounces from his can before crushing the aluminum in his fist, tossing the litter carelessly to the floor. He’ll get it later. Or not. Probably not.

“Yeah, okay.”

The hotel room is pitch black, not even the moonlight reaches through the window. Toji stumbles through the door first, dragging another person in by the waist. He kicks it shut with the heel of his boot. A woman—mid 20’s, pretty, about two heads shorter than Toji so he’s forced to crane his neck uncomfortably low when they kiss. Some random he found off an anonymous hookup app he downloaded, a consenting body three miles away for him to use. They coordinated a time and place—midnight at this shitty motel—which brings us to the present.

“Wait—” She struggles to speak in between wet kisses, patting Toji's bicep. “Wh—get the lights.”

He shakes his head. “Leave them off.”

Humidity stickied the air, clinging to his skin alongside sweat. He was coming down from something—some upper he popped hours prior to this—and because of that, a thin tremble rattled in his bones gliding through marrow. It’s so hot. He’s hot everywhere. It almost hurts, the heat.

She doesn’t put up much of an argument and takes his bruteness like a champ. Let’s him hoist her up and jerk her onto the stiff motel mattress, its blankets coughing a plume of dust into the atmosphere when their weights fell upon it. The scratchy comforter reeked of mildew and clawed back at the jagged callouses sitting in the divots of Toji’s weathered fingers when he grabbed handfuls of bedding.

He finds himself drafting comparisons in the moment, as he often did. Comparing his present to a better time; when he wasn’t slutting himself out to strangers for a fix of warmth or money, in this case the former. Your bed—God, no not tonight, he shouldn’t be devoting another night to you—smelled of a sweet concoction; your perfume, your laundry detergent, your shampoo, just you. There was no catching or pulling at his marred hands when he clawed at your bedsheets, no, the satin was gentle on his most rough parts.

“How do you want me?”

Toji blinked in succession, snapping back to cold reality. It was easy to lose himself in his delusions, muddying the lines between his dreamscape and actuality. Maybe the liquor finally seeped into his brain and this was neurosis’s way of knocking at the door. What a hilarious thing to think about. Toji slips a hand beneath her back and maneuvers the smaller body himself.

“Hands and knees.” He doesn’t want to look at her face.

Neither of them had even bothered to undress—this truly lacked all semblance of intimacy. Hands reach behind herself to inch suffocating denim down past the shelf of her ass, Toji thumbs down his own waistband just past the half-mast erection he sported. Everything felt robotic, it was a wonder he could even get hard in such a lifeless domain.

“You brought a con—”

“Yes,” he responds pointedly, eager for the talking to cease. He didn’t care to hear the whispers of a strange woman asking about whether or not he had protection on him. Of course, he had one. It goes quiet again. In the dark, dank air Toji kneels behind a wet, willing hole and yet all he can think of is you when he stroked himself to total hardness.

“Are you kidding me?” You gawked at him, disbelief evident in the obtuse look you gave him. He was splayed out on your kitchen tiles, ducked back beneath the sink, working at the drain pipe with a rubber-gripped wrench. His ass ached from sitting on hard floors for too long, back groaned under the pressure of being bent backwards, neck stiff and knotted thanks to the awkward tilt he was forced to wear, but seeing the awe scribbled on your face made the pain dull. “I had two handymen take a look, neither of them could find the issue. But you just knew exactly what to do.”

He had to laugh at the ridiculousness. “You’ve just got yourself a fucked supply line. Ain’t rocket science, I’ll get you right.” Toji slips out from the cupboard, looking up from the floor through pin straight bangs. Scratching a brow with his thumb nail, “you hired a couple of idiots.”

You retort in a groan, unable to thrum up a defense. “I’m the real idiot, I suppose. You think they were just trying to scam me or what?”

“Probably.” Back under the sink he goes, wedging the wrench around the circumference of the pipe. Toji’s forearm tenses with each crank of the tool, and he doesn’t stop until the bolt is fastened as tight as his strength can manage. “Doesn’t matter. I’m here.”

Though he can’t see your face at the moment, Toji hears your sheepish smile wrapping around each word. “My hero.” The sarcasm was eminent, tongue-in-cheek and you nudged his foot with your own. He kicks you back, heel to your bony ankle. “Hey!” You’re laughing now.

“Don’t get smart.” The drain pipe is secure, and he’s satisfied with his labor. Toji pulls himself to his feet, flicking the stainless steel lever on the sink’s tap with a knuckle. Crystal clear water flows out evenly from the faucet, collecting in a puddle at the basin, swirling down the drain. “Watch, look,” Toji points with his toe to the pipe under the cabinet, and he can’t quell the lofty smirk that tugs at scarred lips when there is no leakage. A successful repair; you look astonished for lack of a better word, and it gives the man a strange swell of pride hanging in his belly.

He did that. He was useful to you in a way he hadn’t been useful to anyone in a long while. He didn’t have to kill, didn’t have to fuck; fixing a leaky kitchen sink seemed beyond good enough for you. Foolish.

“I’m impressed.” You turn to him. “Thank you, Toji.”

You blathered on some more, speaking such things of how generous you planned on being in return. Something about money in exchange for the service, but Toji wasn’t really listening past your declaration of gratitude. It was just straightforward plumbing work of the most basic level, and yet you thanked him like he hung the stars in the sky.

“Sure. It was no problem.” And he smiled back.

That did it. He’s stiff, cock cradled in his fist with nothing less than a bruising grip. The condom was pre-lubricated and slick with odorless oil. Toji went through the practiced motions—hooking the ringed entrance over himself, pinching the tip of the condom, rolling it down to sheath every inch.

“Oh,” she gasped, lurching forward at the feeling of Toji’s head sliding up and down between her legs. Between her folds. She’s wet for him. Hips whined back into his groin with avidity. “Put it in.”

He slaps her with an open palm, connecting with an asscheek. She moans again and reaches back to paw at Toji’s navel with blunt nails. Free from any of that fancy acrylic stuff.

This time around was torturously similar to every other fuck he’s had in recent date. Everything is fast-paced and unforgiving, leaving not much room for anything else. Toji fucks to forget. He fucks to remember, too.

“Y/n,” he groans shamelessly. There’s a muffled reply, but it’s murky and muffled and unable to be understood because Toji had taken the humble liberty of holding his conquest’s face into the flat, fluffless pillow. He doesn’t care for a response, to be corrected or called a piece of shit for being so inconsiderate as to not remember her name. It was Mandy, he wants to say. Maybe Maddy? Who gives a fuck.

“That’s rude, you know.”

Toji pouts theatrically, forcing his bottom lip out in a way that has you playfully rolling your eyes. In his hand, a bundled ball of blanket that he’d stolen from you and hoarded to his side of the sofa. “Aww, I’m sorry.”

You sigh, throwing him a scathing glance. “No, you’re not.”

Movie night, or so you said. Sitting in the lonesome of your quiet penthouse just the two of you, watching some new finance documentary that just dropped on Netflix. It sounded absurdly boring to Toji, but you’d been keen on hyping it up all week long, offering him an invitation to view it together. Really, Toji couldn’t give a shit about a bunch of old guys talking crypto-bullshit for two hours straight—but it’s not like that’s what was really going to happen anyway. Toji had convinced himself this was all a ploy to snake your way into his pants at last. Naturally, he accepted your invitation.

“Just gonna have to sit closer then,” Toji posed gruffly, eyeing down the gap between your bodies on the couch. Sitting at opposite ends like a couple of children who still believed cooties was a prevalent issue. He nods toward you,“come on.”

“You’re terrible.” Despite that, you scoot closer, invading his bubble of personal space and snatching your half of the blanket back. Focused on the Netflix explore page, tongue poked out between two rows of teeth as you enter the title of the documentary into the search bar, you miss the way Toji observes you. Watching. Waiting.

And waiting.

For what? Who knows. Maybe Toji prepares himself for the inevitable moment when you slip a hand beneath the blanket and drift over to his thigh. Ready for that familiar squeeze at his crotch, the same tango so many other curious hands have danced in the past. But he’d let you proceed without any qualms. He’d encourage you.

“You’re bored, huh?” You chuckled halfheartedly midway through the film, pressing pause. Bored didn’t even begin to describe his pure disinterest.

Toji shrugs. “Maybe.” His arm rests on the back ledge of the couch, not quite around you, but so close that it might as well be. He shifts, touches his right thigh to your left one, and tilts his chin down. “Listening to a bunch of rich fucks whine about the stock market doesn’t exactly captivate me.”

Frowning, “that’s only surface level. The audience is supposed to infer—” Fake snoring cuts you off. Toji rolls his eyes shut, hanging his jaw to fake the most obnoxious slumber. His head lolls onto your shoulder. You don’t shy away from the physical contact. “You’re not funny.” He begs to differ, what with the way nasally snorts crack from your sinuses. The shoulder he presses his cheek to stutters with stifled dissipation.

“Stop movin’.” Toji nuzzles closer, facetiously dumping body weight against you if not for anything other than to hear the struggle squeeze at your throat when you wrestle to keep upright. “I’m comfy like this.”

“You’re never this affectionate.”

He’s not usually. But Toji’s hellbent on his premonitions. You want him. Everyone wants him. It’s been months of banter, months of getting spoiled by financial stability. You give him everything. You take nothing. His nose caresses the junction where shoulder and neck meet. Why won’t you just let him fucking give you something? You swallow hard. “Toji.”

“I constantly feel like I owe you. Like I got dues to pay.”

“Do I… make you feel that way?”

“All the fucking time.” It swelters beneath the blanket you share, and sweat starts to collect at the creases behind Toji’s knees. Bathing in the shared body heat, letting the convection hug his hips. He sighs, backtracking. “I know you got good intentions, ‘s what you keep telling me. And I like it, the way you reassure me. It’s… reassuring.” He titters into your neck, blinking slowly.

“Then why do you keep doing this?” A ginger hand graces the rear of his skull, not forcing him closer, but not tugging him away either. It just sits there, scritching as calm as your voice.

“Don’t know.”

This wasn’t the first time Toji succumbed to that shrill, little whisper in his head, the one that told him to spontaneously initiate closeness. It feels like common knowledge by now; to reciprocate in kind to any form of benevolence like a trained dog, because that was the expectation of him. To get on his knees and worship until bruises hammered into his joints and the hinges of his jaw grew sore from overuse. This transaction is familiar. It brings him a twisted sense of comfort, and you ripped it away. For better or for worse, Toji had yet to conclude.

“It’s like muscle memory.” That was the best way to describe it. Toji ached to give you the pleasure that felt long overdue in this affair. To offer some sort of repayment in the only way he knew how. Lips ghost over porcelain flesh—he’s never been so tempted in his life. Sex had always been the most exhausting and emotionally depleting aspect when he dealt with these kinds of unconventional financial relationships, but now as he unfurls his candied tongue and laves a stretch from collar to jawline, Toji has never wanted to be inside of someone more. Deft fingers were quick to pull him back by the scruff.

You studied Toji with unreadable eyes. He stares back, wiping excess saliva from his fatty lower lip with a thumb.

“I don’t want this for us,” you speak up finally, meandering eyes roaming around his facial features. You look at his lips, then his nose, then between his eyes. “Are you listening? I’ll write it on my fucking forehead if that’s what it takes for you to understand.”

“What if I want it?” Toji breathes.

You’re shaking your head. “You don’t.”

Who the fuck are you to decide what he does or doesn’t want? And how fucking dare you be right about it. Because in all this build up—the panting, the heat, the licking—Toji hadn’t so much as twitched down there. It’s like his mind and body were completely detached, separate entities trying to cohesively navigate through an avalanche of generational trauma. Trying and failing miserably. He palms himself to confirm his limp appendage.

“Fuck.” A bucket of ice water dumped over his head, washing away the illusion of lust and leaving behind reality in its wake. What the fuck am I doing? “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Toji doesn’t really understand what you’re apologizing for. You’ve got no need to feel sorry when he was the one who threw himself at you so abruptly. But he doesn’t ask, either. It felt eerily nice to be on the receiving end of an ‘I’m sorry.’

You still hold his nape. The film is long forgotten at this point, set on the backburner, and dimmed with the Are you still watching? notification blanketing the screen.

“Your movie.” Toji cocks his head, beckoning towards the gigantic television pinned to the wall all without tearing his eyes from yours. “Press play.”

This has the beginnings of a coy smirk straining your lips. “I thought it was boring you?”

He shrugs. “It’s not so bad.”

And so you resumed the documentary, if not for anything other than to dissolve the serious tension that palpated in the air. You didn’t force Toji to explain himself, you didn’t hound him for answers about his hypersexuality. You didn’t distance yourself, you didn’t act appalled when his thigh brushed yours again. You didn’t pity him, you didn’t treat him like a child. But you did stroke his neck. You continued to laugh with him. You let him fall asleep on you that night and didn’t wake him ‘till morning.

You let him trust.

His orgasm doesn’t have any anticipation. It crashes down on him all at once, splitting down the notches of his spine and sending bouts of electricity zapping down to his curled toes, still encased in thick, mud soaked boots. She cries below, contorting in the direction of the pleasure, but Toji holds her down while he fills the rubber.

It’s unsatisfying.

“Oh my fuck—” The woman pants on her come down, trembling around him. She clearly enjoyed herself, giggling stupidly into the pillow now sopping with drool and tears. Toji pulls out with little grace, sneering at the viscous mess of bodily fluids slicking up his navel. Proficient fingers work the sticky condom off, tying the end in a balloon knot.

It’s gross.

He folds, dropping onto the bed beside her. Sweat glues bangs to his forehead. His chest rises, then falls, then rises again with exertion. Sleep threatens to rear itself, weighing down his eyelids.

It’s tiring.

The body beside him stirs, rolling on her side. “How was it?”

“Good,” he lies through his teeth for the sake of sparing feelings. She smiles, feeling over his chest.

“It was good for me, too,” she tells him like he asked. “Really good. Oh, also my name’s Maria by the way, not Y/n.” Maria chuckles like it was just a silly mix up.

She drags him into mindless, post-sex banter. Rambling on about workplace drama, about her two pet cats and about her shity landlord. Mindless rattling that falls on Toji’s deaf ears; he’s disassociated, lying face-up on the terribly hard bed, fixated on the grime weighing down his lap. When an opening arises, Toji hauls himself up and claims the shower.

An intense wave of queasiness materializes in the centerpoint of Toji’s stomach when he closes himself in behind the bathroom door. The aftermath always felt this awful—bitter and lonely and degrading. Toji takes a moment to just be, perching on the lid of the toilet with his head in his hands, swallowing down sickness lest he subject Maria to a concert of his disgusting gags if he retches into the bowl.

When Toji stands to fiddle with the shower handle, he becomes hyper aware of the weight in his sweatpants. There’s an awkward sag in the fabric, bunching around the object that sits heavy in his front pocket. His cellphone—he never bothered to remove it. Giving a sniffle to the air, Toji fishes out the device and taps the screen with little interest.

Oh.

He looks away. Looks at the sink, then the wall, then the glass door of the shower cubicle. Then back at his screen. Back at the very real notification that sits there idly, begging to be clicked.

Toji’s heart races at a perilous speed, something lethal for an old man like himself. He can feel the beat rumble his insides, blending everything up like a bloody smoothie.

Yielding, he clicks.

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mtpleasantheating · 8 months

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Trusted Gas Line Installation Near Charleston, SC

With Four Seasons Heating and Air, you can turn your house into a comfortable haven. Excellent Gas Line Installation Near Charleston SC is provided by our knowledgeable staff. Bid farewell to bitterly cold winters and welcome to coziness and warmth. You can rely on us to deliver outstanding service and make sure your house stays warm. Contact us at (843) 345-4095.

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#gas line installation near me #tankless water heaters #charleston plumber #gas log repair near me #gas stove installation near me #hvac mt pleasant

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aquamechanic1 · 2 years

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Importance Of A Propane Line Above-Ground Installation

A propane line above-ground installation becomes necessary when a home or business owner wants to use propane as their main source of energy. Propane is a very efficient and clean burning fuel, which makes it a popular choice for many people. However, propane can be dangerous if it is not used properly. That is why it is important to have a propane line above ground installation when using propane as your main source of energy. Some other reasons why propane line installation may become necessary. In some cases, it may be due to damage from a severe storm or another event. In other cases, it may be necessary to install a new propane line to accommodate a new appliance. Whatever the reason, propane line installation is a job that should be left to the professionals.

Benefits of propane line above ground

There are many benefits to having a propane line above-ground installation. First, it is much safer than having a propane line underground. If there is a leak in the underground propane line, it can be very difficult to find and repair. A propane line above ground is much easier to find and repair if there is a leak.

Another benefit of having a propane line above ground is that it is much less likely to freeze. If the propane line freezes, it can cause a loss of pressure, which can be very dangerous. A propane line above ground is less likely to freeze because it is not underground where the temperature is colder.

Overall, a propane line above-ground installation is much safer and more efficient than an underground propane line.

Want to install it? Then connect with the top propane gas line installation service providers! They can help to install above-the-ground lines by providing the necessary equipment and expertise to ensure that the lines are installed correctly and safely. Propane gas line installation near me can also provide guidance on what type of line is best suited for your needs and how to properly maintain it.

#propane line above ground #propane gas line installation near me

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aquamechanic12 · 23 days

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Advantages of Up-Grading Your Swimming Pool Lighting System in Miami

Next to lending elegance to your pool area, swimming pool lighting is among the most important elements within a pool. Upgrading your pool lighting system with pool lighting replacement in Miami would benefit a pool owner in very many ways—from improved visibility to energy efficiency. Here is an explanation of why you need to upgrade your pool lighting and what transformation you could bring to your outdoor area.

Pool Lighting Replacement In Miami

Enhanced Aesthetics

One of the most immediate advantages of upgrading pool lighting is enhanced aesthetic appeal. From style to color and brightness level, everything in between is allowed by modern pool lighting systems to create the perfect ambiance for your outdoor space. You will have endless options for creating a soft, romantic glow in the waters for your evening swims or having bright or colorful lights during a pool party.

You can turn your pool area into a gorgeous focal point in your backyard with a simple lighting upgrade for your pool. That would let you enjoy the beauty of the outdoors after dark, which is very important to Miami residents who love outdoor living.

Improved Safety

First and foremost, when talking about a swimming pool, one has to consider questions of safety. Proper lighting can help avoid possible misadventures during this activity and ensure everybody sees everything happening clearly in the pool and its surroundings. If older models are replaced, modern pool lighting systems will enable better visibility inside the pool and around it, especially if there is night swimming or if children or some guests are going to use the pool. Pool Lighting Replacement Miami services provides various lighting solutions, which improve safety to avoid accidents and enjoy the pool with a free mind.

Energy Efficiency

Now, the older pool lighting system may be using incandescent or halogen light bulbs that are not too energy-efficient. Either incandescent or halogen light bulbs going up to LED will drastically reduce your energy consumption. Since LED lights use a fraction of the energy that traditional bulbs use and they also tend to last many times longer, you are not only going to be able to save on electricity bills but even on replacement costs.

This can be quite significant over time, especially in the warm climate of Miami and during heavy swimming pool usage. On the other hand, LED lights use less heat, which creates less stress on your pool's electrical system.

Longer Lifespan

Modern pool lighting systems, especially LED, are much more long-lasting than their predecessors from the earlier generations of lighting. An LED light will be rated to provide either 25,000 or even 50,000 hours of illumination, depending on the quality and the usage it gets. This therefore means less time and money spent on maintenance and replacement. Durability and long life are assured with swimming pool light replacement using LED lights, hence uniformity and reliability in the lighting for a long time.

Customization and Control

You will have better control along with an upgraded pool lighting system. Most of the modern-day systems are equipped with remote controls or can be operated through a smartphone application. In that way, you'll be able to adjust brightness, color, and timing easily. You can set any ambiance that would suit your favorite activity there at the pool—for instance, quiet time in the evening or energetic while having a pool party.

Services in pool lighting replacement in Miami can install systems with advanced features such as these, giving ultimate flexibility to a person for managing their pool environment.

Enhanced Mood and Ambiance

Lighting can do so much to enhance the mood of an area. A new pool lighting system guarantees that it gives you an instant invitation for relaxation—a time to settle back after a long, exhausting day at work or entertain friends in just the right kind of light. Color-changing LED lights would serve to add variation and merriment to the lighting of your space at the pool area, making it much more fun for yourself and your company.

A well-lit pool area can be all the difference in taking your social events to the next level, especially in Miami where outdoor gatherings are common.

Increased Property Value

Upgrading the pool lights is one way to enhance your property value further. Prospective buyers are searching for a new home & almost always looking for an outdoor area that has been taken care of & is well up to date. Sprightly light pools become the significant selling points one would make in the competitive real estate market in Miami. The nice lighting fixtures and systems show you have cared for your property by creating time to maintain and upgrade it, which would excite prospective buyers in your home.

Environmental benefits

Another advantage of using energy-efficient LED lighting would consequently include the positive effects on the environment. Essentially, because an LED light requires less power for its functioning and is used for a longer period, less amount of raw materials are used in its production and waste collection. You will contribute less to your carbon footprint through reduced energy usage. Eco-friendly options are often advised by pool lighting replacement Miami; they tend to benefit you as much as they add towards environmental sustainability.

Cost Savings

While upgrading your pool lighting system seems a bit pricey on an upfront basis, it saves much in the long term. As explained above, LED lights use less energy and have a longer life; hence, they reduce electricity bills and maintenance costs. Besides, modern lighting systems are usually more robust and less vulnerable to damage—this decreases the frequency of repairs or replacements. Although perhaps at a slow speed, these savings can offset the initial upgrade costs in due course and thereby reap overall financial benefits.

Swimming Pool Light Replacement

Conclusion

Update your pool lighting system to something a little bit more modern, and many positive changes will come about in Miami. Most importantly, this enhances the aesthetic value of your pool area, making it safer and offering great energy savings while putting less stress on the environment. Control of the light to set up the right ambiance in any given situation is enhanced through the greater customization afforded by modern lighting solutions. Looking to create more functionality with your pool, increase property value, or develop an outdoor space that is beautiful and inviting? Just one of these investments is a pool lighting upgrade. With the right swimming pool light replacement, seeking professional services in Miami for pool lighting replacement can transform your pool area into an enjoyable and stunning space you and your guests will love.

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soufre-de-paris · 1 year

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the gas line was found under a centimeter of spackle, grout, and paint. yay.

today (the "everything will get done last day") began with the empreiteiro telling me he'll do what he can today but not everything will be done. so that's... that's fine.

empreiteiro also said the countertop piece won't be installed bc it needs to be installed in the cabinet which neither exists nor has any hope of existence in the near future

there are three plugs in our entire apartment

so nauseous i am prone in bed bc of course

arquitect has yet to show her coward face

window screen guy is running late

tired

#i'm home

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darecruit · 1 year

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Baby come back! You can blame it all on me!! Miss your writing! Hope all is well with you!

Ha! Your message made my day! Thank you! And I’ve been busy and happily working on the next installment of Daughters. Rachel and Quinn get into a fight on the first day back to school after the New Year. Lots of trouble and hurt and love. Here’s a sneak peek!

A Mother To Both

Summary: Life for Shelby Corcoran is not as smooth and calm as she might have hoped as Quinn’s guardianship goes through and Rachel learns the truth about the other girl’s living arrangements. When the girls get into a fight on the first day back after the new year, Shelby must come to terms with what it means being the mother to both.

Chapter 1: Cold Hard Truth

Shelby Corcoran pulled in at the end of the long line of cars of parents dropping their children off for the first day back to school after the winter holidays, a sense of sadness settling around her. She wasn’t ready for Real LifeTM to start back up again. Things had been so nice during the Christmas break, even with the spanking she’d given Quinn after her 200-mile runaway road trip that kicked off their holiday. That had been the catalyst for the teen to finally let go and let Shelby take care of her completely. Shelby was now Mama to two blonde daughters and that felt right…but she didn’t feel whole. Shelby Corcoran wouldn’t be whole until she could be Mama to one last child—the child she’d been a surrogate for and then walked away from out of fear when she had the chance last April.

“Mama? You gotta pull up—you’re holding up the line,” Quinn’s voice startled Shelby from her thoughts. With a jerk, she stepped on the gas pedal and they lurched forward several feet.

“Sorry, honey!” she gasped as she flung her right arm out to brace Quinn.

“See? I told you. You should’ve let me drive this morning,” Quinn said, an air of superiority in her tone. “Distracted driving is dangerous, and clearly you’re—”

“Okay, brat,” Shelby interrupted the child’s gloating. “Get your butt into that school. Be good! I love you! I’ll see you this afternoon.”

Quinn giggled and leaned over the center console to give a quick, one-armed hug to the woman. Shelby laid a fast peck on her cheek and then nudged her toward the door. “Go on—you’re holding up the line,” she teased.

“Fine, fine,” Quinn sighed, pulling on the door handle and jumping out. The back door opened a second later and Quinn ducked her head in to kiss the mop of blonde curls atop Beth’s head. “See ya later, Bethie,” she told the baby. “Bye, Mama!”

“Bye, honey!” Shelby called as Quinn shut the back door and shouldered her bookbag. She offered one final wave before a horn honked from behind her. “Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled, waving her hand in acknowledgement.

As the black Range Rover pulled out of the drop-off lane to join the throng of cars in the main part of the parking lot, a certain set of angry brown eyes tracked a blonde cheerleader’s route into the main entrance of the school. Determined feet took off in pursuit, staying far enough behind so as to remain undetected as a plan began to take shape.

***

Rachel Berry stalked down the halls of McKinley High mid-morning, grumbling under her breath and going over her prepared speech once more. There were ten minutes remaining in second block and Rachel wanted to plant herself in the small alcove near her and Quinn’s lockers before the whole of the student population was in the halls. And now, she waited. And fumed.

It had been one thing when she thought Quinn was getting close to Shelby for Beth’s benefit. Part of it even made sense—Shelby knew what Quinn was going through, having given up a baby herself. And Rachel wasn’t completely unaware of her birth mother’s feelings and…regrets. It made sense to Rachel that Shelby would want better for Beth, this new little baby she was raising. But Shelby’s frantic phone call to Rachel two days before Christmas, asking if she’d heard from Quinn because Shelby was worried about her—couldn’t find her—spoke of something so much more. And coupled with what the small teen had seen and, more importantly, overheard, this morning…Well—Rachel was pissed!

Shelby had told Rachel that she was all grown up, that they should be grateful for one another from afar. She said she had wanted a baby—a family—and Rachel had her dads. Rachel didn’t need Shelby the way a baby would. Rachel had been hurt by that, and it was only in the last few months that she had begun to come to a tentative understanding. Shelby’d been right when she said she was Rachel’s birth mother but not her mom. Shelby Corcoran was a stranger—a stranger that shared DNA, but a stranger none-the-less. Rachel had two wonderful parents who loved her immensely. She didn’t need Shelby. But…was it so wrong to want her?

She’d been hopeful after receiving a text message on her birthday from the woman letting her know she was thinking of her and hoping her day was everything she wished for and more. Shelby had even gone on to say that she would love to get together for a coffee and get to know Rachel. Rachel had replied back enthusiastically and Shelby promised she would be in touch soon. So when the call came on December 23rd, Rachel had picked up ecstatic, thinking her birth mother was taking that first step. Her hopes had been crushed when it wasn’t about Rachel, but Quinn.

Quinn. Beautiful, smart, perfect Quinn. Quinn who had given Shelby a daughter to raise from the start. Quinn who probably offered Shelby an insight into what Beth could grow to be. Quinn who perhaps reminded Shelby of herself. Quinn was everything that Rachel would never be, and apparently, everything that Shelby valued in a daughter. Why else would the blonde call Shelby ‘Mama’? And why would Shelby let her if she didn’t feel that way too?

Rachel had tried calling Shelby ‘Mom’ all those months ago. It felt foreign on her tongue, and understandably so! She was used to Dad and Daddy. ‘Mom’ could have become natural if given time, but Shelby hadn’t afforded her that. She’d given up and gone away before anything could happen. Yet somehow, Quinn had managed to do what Rachel had only dreamed of. But how? And why—

Before Rachel could spiral further, the source of her ire passed by her hideout. Body vibrating now with adrenaline, the small teen shot out of the alcove and practically dove at the taller blonde. Quinn screamed and Rachel’s momentum knocked them both into the lockers.

“What the fuck, Berry?!” Quinn growled as she was pinned against cold metal, the combination lock digging into the space between her shoulder blades. “What are you doing?” she demanded, trying to force the other girl off her. Rachel was deceptively strong for such a little thing.

“What are you doing?” Rachel spat, throwing her body weight into Quinn and making the blonde wince.

“Trying to live my life, Rachel! Get off me!”

“I saw you with her!”

“Who?!”

“Don’t play dumb, Quinn,” Rachel admonished, pushing Quinn harder against the locker. “Who do you think?”

“What are you—”

“SHELBY!” Rachel bellowed, earning several curious looks from passerby. Whatever shown on her face was enough to get them to scurry away—a first, to be sure.

Meanwhile, Quinn’s eyes bulged and her heart rate skyrocketed. “Rachel—Ow, fuck!” Rachel body-checked her again, this time ramming her pointy little shoulder into Quinn’s chest. The smaller girl then glared up at her with angry, nearly black eyes and Quinn gulped. Her stomach plummeted and she wanted nothing more than to run as far and as fast as she could away from whatever was about to happen.

Quinn was then hit with a barrage of accusations and revelations that, quite frankly, was information overload for the sixteen-year-old. Rachel was coming at her with vicious words, listing all of the times she’d seen Quinn with Shelby. Quinn’s ears were ringing. Everything felt too fast and too loud. Quinn wanted to scream, but she was frozen, unable to make a sound.

Guilt swirled and settled in the pit of her stomach as Rachel continued her angry tirade and Quinn realized that, apart from those very first weeks with Shelby, she hadn’t given any further thought about Rachel, her feelings, or how she’d react when she found out—and she would find out. Shelby and Quinn weren’t hiding anything. The worst of her guilt, however, came from the fact that she didn’t feel guilty about her relationship with Shelby. Shelby Corcoran was the best thing that had ever happened to Quinn in her life and she wasn’t going to give her up without a fight. Rachel, it seemed, was ready for that fight.

“She’s MY mom, Quinn! She may not want me but if I can’t have her, neither can you! Stay AWAY from her!” Rachel roared, her shoulders rising and falling from her heavy breathing.

The venom behind those words were enough to knock the breath from Quinn’s lungs and her stomach knotted so hard that she felt as if Rachel had sucker punched her. The pain was so intense that she honestly wasn’t sure she hadn’t. It was then that her fight or flight kicked in. Finding her voice, Quinn used it to scream out “NO!”, and with a burst of pure adrenaline, she was finally successful in pushing Rachel away from her.

Rachel staggered backwards, trying to regain her footing. When she did, the girl let out a truly inhuman roar and came at Quinn, swinging. Quinn pushed her away, which only infuriated Rachel that much more. They’d attracted a growing audience now, but neither girl paid them any attention.

“STAY AWAY FROM HER!” Rachel screamed.

“NO!” Quinn returned just as heatedly. “I won’t, Rachel!”

Rachel’s face crumpled and tears cascaded down olive-toned cheeks. “Haven’t you hurt me enough over the years? Do you really have to use Shelby to hurt me too?”

Quinn could feel her own tears welling—Rachel’s pain was palpable. Quinn felt for her, she did, but that didn’t mean she was going to give up the only loving mother she ever had, either. “It—It’s not about you, Rachel! I’m sorry you’re hurting, but Shelby’s my—”

“Your what?!” Rachel snarled. “Your Mama? Go play house with someone else’s mother, but leave MINE out of it! You owe me that much!”

Angry and on the defensive, Quinn stepped forward and pushed Rachel hard. “Fuck you, Hobbit! I don’t owe you anything and I’m not going to stay away from Shelby—I live with her! And there’s nothing you can do to change that so just—”

It all happened so quickly. One minute Quinn was screaming at Rachel, advancing on her, pushing her and forcing her backwards; the next, a shockwave of pain overwhelmed the blonde. Her eyes stung and she couldn’t catch her breath—the cold was unbearable. It wasn’t until she was wiping cherry-flavored ice crystals off her face and her vision cleared enough to see that Rachel was standing opposite her holding an empty slushie cup that Quinn even realized what truly transpired.

Rachel Berry had slushied Quinn Fabray.

The crowd around them erupted in noise. It wasn’t long before it drew the attention of the teachers. Then Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray were being marched past the growing throng of students towards the Principal’s Office.

#asks #glee fanfic #Daughters universe #Baby Please Come Home #Sequel #Shelby #Rachel #Quinn #A Mother To Both #Daughters series

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