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He’s Got Me, I Can’t Break It

chapter one | masterlist | chapter three

Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader | Megumi Fushiguro x f!Reader

Genre: Smut & Angst with horror/thriller elements Notes: Toji is a total weirdo in this series but I relate to the reader bc she is like 🥰 but that's daddy I love him 🥰 Warnings: 18+, dubcon, age gap, alcohol consumption, fingering, pussy job, unprotected sex, manipulation, gaslighting, orgasm denial, blowjob, implied cunnilingus, smoking. Words: 4.9k

Synopsis: You meet a handsome older man while partying in Paris with your best friend. Going home with a man you've just met isn't usually your style, but looking at him is more than enough to dispel any doubts. But maybe you should have listened to your intuition.

The man in your bed didn’t stop you as you tugged the blanket away from him and wrapped it around your body. It didn’t bother him that you retreated to the balcony attached to your room to finish your cigarette in solitude.

You had laughed, sure, but there was nothing funny about this. The whole incident had scared you sober. In fact, it was humiliating. It was mortifying to think you had gone against your better judgement and brought a stranger home to fuck from the club. And it was even worse as you felt your lover’s sperm trickle down your inner thighs as you sat comfortably outside, allowing the chilled Parisian air to consume you.

You feel tears well in your lash lines and your eyes become damp and glossy the more you think about it. It feels like a betrayal that you let him talk you into bed. Or speak you into bed more like, since you hadn’t understood a word of French the entire time. The foreign language and the seductive tonality practically spread your legs for you. You tuck a hair behind your ear and wipe the singular droplet that spills from your eye speedily, refusing to allow yourself to be a damsel in a hopeless situation. You take a drag of your cigarette and begin to feel anger over upset.

He spoke English the entire fucking time.

“Do you want me to go?” he wonders.

You almost jump into space as the shock of his presence rattles through you. The way he knocked casually on the glass window and stood confidently waiting to force your attention to him. He snickered when he saw terror take over your body in multiple forms once he had startled you. It wasn’t his intention, but it was amusing, nonetheless.

“It’s up to you,” you begin, “you paid to stay the night.” you finish, taking a drag of your cigarette and looking out to the twinkling night sky above you.

A smile adorns his handsome features as he huffs a sigh of amusement. He hadn’t bothered to cover or clothe himself, clearly confident in his appearance and nude status. He sits on the seat opposite to you, unfazed by the cold furniture as it bites at his skin. The man slams the pack of cigarettes on the table between you as well as the lighter. He feels better knowing they’re there, it won’t be long until he finishes the one he has already and he’s sure he’ll be desperate for another.

“Are you pissed at me?” he queried. Your eyebrows scrunched as you scoffed at the pathetically woeful sentence.

“Oh, do you want a fucking well done sticker?” you questioned rhetorically. Before he could answer, he allowed you to stub out your cigarette and use your trembling fingers to light another. They’re usually helpful for when you’re stressed; but while he’s nearby you doubt you’ll ever know the feeling of calm again. “Do you know how violated I feel? I feel sick, too, because I bet this isn’t the first time you’ve pulled this shit.”

“No, don’t be like that.” he commands. You look at him with disdain, unable to comprehend how he can possibly think he’s in any position to be giving orders right now. “I don’t give a shit if you believe me princess, but I don’t do one-night stands. ‘m more of the settling down type.” he tells you, following your lead and lighting a new cigarette for himself.

“I don’t care. Don’t want your life fucking story you bastard.” you berate as you puff out a plume of smoke, tapping the ash over the balcony.

He doesn’t speak anymore, the two of you instead sit in silence indulging in your cigarettes. The sound of traffic and thousands of blurred conversations traverse into the atmosphere and into your hearing. It’s hard to lose yourself when there’s so much going on. You’d like to focus on one thing, one simple thing to forget that he’s still here with you. But you can’t. Everything sounds like nothing. But your eyes flit around hoping a sight will distract you rather than a sound. It was beyond your control when your vision landed on him. He’s right there, legs spread wide like he owns the fucking world. If you were sitting bare like he is you’re sure he’d take great pleasure in telling you what a slut you are.

Even soft his cock was a sight to behold. It was so very lewd, too, since neither of you had cleansed your body of the deceitful union you’d shared moments ago. The light from inside your hotel room reflected on his sticky, sinful member and you couldn’t help the way your cunt fluttered as you recalled the way he bullied his cock inside of your walls.

Your eyes shot up to his as he snapped his fingers at you.

“My eyes are up here darlin’. I know it’s pretty but it’s rude t’stare.” he teases.

You snarl and stand to your feet, you’ve had enough, taking yourself indoors to finish your cigarette off alone. And then you’ll sleep soundly, you hope, knowing that when you wake up he’ll likely be gone. This entire ordeal will begin to feel like nothing but a distant memory. A disapproving growl erupts from the depths of your lungs when you see him stub his cigarette out against the glass window and throw the butt over the balcony railing, hurrying indoors to follow you.

“I feel like we got off on the wrong foot.” he tells you, casually, leaning against the door as you burrow underneath the bedsheets. The words go in one ear and out of the other as you find the sentence too idiotic to even process. It’s the understatement of the century, you think. Unable to understand how one man can be so so foolish.

“Just be quiet, I want to sleep.”

“Tell me to go and I will.”

“Fine, go. Go away, please. I’m tired and I’ve had enough and I’m sick of looking at you.”

He stands stoically for a moment as he rationalises what you’ve just told him in his still drunken mind. Instead of heading towards the exit and retrieving his clothes, he gets closer to you. Closer… and closer… and closer.

And then he’s forcing your body into the centre of the bed while he hovers above, caging you beneath him. You try to push him away, but you both know it’s futile. He’s probably the biggest man you’ve ever seen in real life – in more ways than one. Pretty green eyes vibrate as he stares fixedly into yours. They dart to your throat as he can’t help but admire the spit glob slowly slithering down your windpipe. You’re unsure of him, terrified of him. It’s hard to figure out whether he wants you to be scared of him or not.

“I don’t want to go.” he admits. The way your chest rises and falls beneath him doesn’t go unnoticed. He runs the back of his knuckles over your forehead, your cheek and then down to your clavicle. And you wince at that, eyes scrunching tightly as you hope he won’t force himself upon you. “I won’t hurt you.”

“Then get off me.” you phrase the demand as a suggestion, hoping he’ll obey.

“I just want you to listen to me sweetheart, understand me.” he speaks so softly it’s almost a whisper. It was pissing you off, honestly, that everything he said seemed like it had a greater purpose when you knew it was far from the truth. “Tell me that wasn’t the best sex of your life.”

“Excuse me?”

“It was, wasn’t it? The way we fucked, it was the best you’ve ever had.” he speaks assumedly, acting as if he knows exactly what thoughts are swirling around your overwhelmed brain. Your mouth falls open and closes a few times, unable to find a suitable response.

“I—”

“It was the best fuck of my life,” he confesses. You feel like he’s talking so fast your head is spinning. “And you know why it was so good, right? Because it was exciting. The anonymity. It was a rush, you get that. Don’t you?”

“No!” you lie, you understand completely. Because the first thought you had after you finished fucking and laid comfortably in bed by each other’s side was sheer amazement that despite a language barrier you managed to get him into bed. Regardless of the fact you couldn’t understand each other you have never felt so perfectly taken care of and filled.

“I don’t believe you; you know exactly what I’m talking about.” he responds, hissing as he rolls away from you. Freeing your body out from under him and granting you permission to do whatever you want. “Lie to yourself all you want but you’re playing yourself out of a good thing.” he finishes, heading over to his clothes to pick up the discarded material at the entrance. Is he finally readying himself to leave?

“W-Wait.” you mumble. He turns to you, unable to believe that you’re not hastily rushing him out of your room. “You… paid to be here. I suppose you can stay the night.”

You don’t need to tell him twice. His clothes are thrown down onto the ground once again as he ambles towards you. He doesn’t need to rush to your side. Not now, not now that he knows he’s got you. The duvet is pulled up, the sudden gust of wind forces goosebumps to ripple throughout your body. The chill soon subsides when the black-haired stranger gets in beside you, he pulls your body against his once more. You manage to reach over to turn out the light on your beside table, plunging the room into darkness.

The chilling situation you’ve found yourself in doesn’t seem to register in your messed up mind. Although you feel sober you’re still under the influence. Under his influence, too. It’s not even given a second thought as you begin to drift off in his arms after everything he’s done. You should feel foolish, angry, terrified. And yet, you’re allowing yourself to shift into unconsciousness.

That is, until you feel him practically growl in your ear. You’re too hazy minded to be appalled, but the sensation of his naked hips rolling against the fat of your ass isn’t lost on you. The arm that had been wrapped around your torso travels upwards to your breasts, forcing your body even closer to his and giving you no chance of wriggling away.

He manoeuvres his cock so that it can be sandwiched between your folds. You’re too tired to object, but little huffs escape your exhausted lips and he knows what you’re trying to say.

“Just let me,” he moans, “you’ll feel good too.”

He doesn’t insert himself inside of you, he just fucks himself between your slick and sperm covered lips. It can’t be denied that his cock head nudging against your clit doesn’t feel heavenly. And you know as soon as you cum you’ll slide into a comfortable sleep. So, you let him. His free hand slithers to your front, added stimulation to your throbbing clit. He basks in the sounds of your breathy pants as he brings you closer to your peak. He’s moaning, loudly, just as he had a little while ago while he was brought closer and closer to his own pleasure. You spasm on him, the alert that you’ve orgasmed is enough to topple him over the edge of his own. He kisses into the crook of your neck as his cum spurts out of him in heavy, thick bursts.

You feel warm, and disgusting.

And so very tired.

You wake up a measly four hours later. Your head is pounding and you can barely bring yourself to move. The room is spinning and you already know it’s going to be a long, difficult day. You found yourself waking up whilst lying on your back, the man next to you is sleeping on his stomach with one arm over you. His hand settled comfortably on the fat of your breast.

A boisterous, singular snore pulls from the man’s throat before he wakes to the sight of you smiling at him. He smiles before raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

“Were you watching me sleep?” he asks.

“I just woke up too, I swear.” you grin, knowing he was teasing by the soft yet gruff tone he spoke with. You gasp as he pinches and pulls the nipple on the breast his hand had been resting on. He rolls onto his back, rubbing the terrible nights sleep out of his eyes.

“Suppose I should get out of your hair soon, huh?” he questions.

You sigh, knowing he’s right. You’ve had your fun sure, but it’s a one-time thing. Hooking up with strangers in Paris everyday definitely isn’t the plan, and you’re sure Nobara would have something to say about it if it was. You knew you’d miss how incredible the man’s cock made you feel, but you valued your friendship with Nobara more. He leans over to pull another cigarette from his carton and realises it’s surprisingly light.

There’s only two left.

“Want one?”

You debate it, ultimately shaking your head. He’s surprised to see how eager you are to jump out of bed as you grab something from your side table as well as taking the box from him. When he asks what you’re doing, it takes a while for you to respond, but eventually you alert him that you’ve tucked his final cigarette into his jeans for him.

He thinks you look a vision, right now. His beautiful eyes comb over your body as he admires every inch of you. A necessary cough clears his airways as he tries to mask the way his cock jumped at the sight of your thighs. More specifically, the way he could see his kids on your inner thighs with each step you took back towards him.

You couldn’t deny that you were still ravenous. It doesn’t feel like you can possibly have enough of him. One more time, just once more and you’re sure you’ll be able to kick this newly found addiction to the curb.

He settles his cigarette between his lips as you get comfortable on the bed, lowering yourself to be eye level with his semi-hard cock. You feel it spring to life more as you begin sinking your mouth onto him. Your throat becomes his plaything as a heady grunt leaves him, cigarette smoke pouring from his nostrils like a cartoon bull.

Don’t look at him, his eyes warn you. Your ruined eye makeup and glistening eyes looking at him like that is enough to make him erupt. So you mustn’t look at him. But he doesn’t want you to stop. How could he when you look like this? He doesn’t know what he wants. He doesn’t know what he needs. Just you, that’s all he knows. All he wants, needs and desires is you. God, how dare you be like this for him. How fucking dare you be such a good little cock whore for him after what he did. His hips roll gently into your mouth, each thrust closes off access to your airways. You feel him twitch in your mouth, he’s close. His balls are tightening, and his eyes are scrunched so tight. He wants to cum. He needs to cum. But not like this.

“Sit on it, fucking sit on it now.” He orders, yanking you up by your hair and helping you position yourself above his shaft. “Put your pussy on me – fuck – just like that, that’s a good fucking girl f’me.”

He praises you as you sink onto his length. What a pretty girl you are, biting your lip like that for him. Because of him. His thumbs rub soft circles into your thighs. They’re shaking. You’re tired, still, so very very tired. Is it because of him? Has he put you through too much in such a short space of time? Or is it all of the dancing you did last night? Maybe the alcohol didn’t help either. Honestly, it’s all three. He considers it all, and he considers you. Should he stop this? You initiated it, he rationalises, so why would he put a stop to this? You must want him real bad. Just like he wants you.

You start off slow, rising and falling as best you can in your weary state. He appreciates it, but he wants better. He expects better. But not today. He’ll do the work for now, just for you. To remember him by. He gets comfortable, angling his body beneath you so he can fuck up into you properly. He pistons his hips, reaching depths within you that you never knew existed. Your eyes are practically white from the angle he has. And are you really drooling for him? How cute, you are! Even your tongue lolls out as he carries on battering your insides.

“P-Please, fuck, fuck! I’m, ‘m gonna, ‘m so close! Gonna—!”

“Cum, fucking cum on my cock. Gonna stuff your cunt full again, squeeze me baby. Fucking cum.”

He keeps slamming up into you and your heart is beating so heavily you worry it’s going to thud right out of your chest. Your lover is almost hypnotised by the way your breasts bounce while he drills himself into you repeatedly, every inch of you is sheer perfection to him. The telling way you grit your teeth tells him you’re almost there. A couple more thrusts and he’s sure you’ll be crying out for him to fill you to the brim. And he will. He fucking will. He’s gonna… he’s gonna… he’s gonna.

“Are you awake yet, bitch?” Nobara speaks, knocking on the door that connects your rooms together. Your building pleasure has been broken – for both of you. You try to climb off the man beneath you and hide yourself under the covers; but he doesn’t let you. His fingers grip firmly into your hips and you’re sure there will be bruises signing his name on your body once he lets go. He raises a finger to his lips, telling you to shush as he carries on fucking you.

“Y-Yes.” you stutter, doing your best to remain composed. He smirks devilishly beneath you, the excitement you had previously felt begins to rise back up through your body. His tongue sticks out evilly before bringing it back as he hisses through his pleasure.

“Get in here, now. I want to talk to you about last night.”

“Give me a-a minute, I’ll be right—”

“Now!”

He objects, not wanting to let you go. Don’t fucking tease him, he’ll lose his mind if you don’t let him cum right now. But you can’t keep her waiting. You can already hear how furious she sounds. Clambering off of him seems a gargantuan task when his grip can’t seem to bear to let you go.

“Hurry up or I’m coming in.” Nobara threatens.

“I’m naked—!”

“Seen it all before, get in here now.”

What more can you do?

You wriggle free from him, much to his dismay, and walk towards Nobara's room. He sighs and it almost scares you to hear the level of fury rising in his purposeful grunts.

The man you left high and dry hid against the wall as you prepared to open the door, as per your instruction. He grabbed your wrist before you could go and see your friend. A hand laced through your hair, bringing your face to his so your lips could settle against each other’s comfortably. He pulled away, a skinny spit string connecting you to him momentarily.

“What’s your name?” he wonders.

“What’s yours?” you flip back to him.

“Toji, tell me yours.” he demands. You’re both distracted by the sound of Nobara getting increasingly more annoyed in the room next door. You take the opportunity to land your lips against his once more and grab the door handle.

“I have to go, enjoy your cigarette.” you tell him. And with that, you leave him only to be greeted by less than impressed company.

He huffs, utterly defeated and irritated that he missed out on one final orgasm with you. Toji contemplates beating himself off to get rid of his erection, but decides against it. It’s just a little sad, isn’t it? And weird, too. Jacking off in your room while you aren’t here. Although pretending to be French to get you into bed wasn’t any less weird than masturbating in your personal space. It’s clear he has an unusual moral compass.

He decides on a quick shower, washing the whole experience off his body before leaving. Once dressed, he pulls his carton of cigarettes from his pocket. He realises what you were doing over here for so long when he asked about it earlier. Once he opened the top of his cigarettes, he sees girly handwriting on the inside.

It’s your name. And more importantly – your phone number.

“I’m actually being pretty calm right now.” Nobara tells you. Your eyes bulge at that considering she almost tore your head off with her teeth.

“Coulda fooled me.”

“Don’t be a fucking bitch because I’m seriously pissed. You fucked me over so bad last night.” she bites back at your murmured comment.

You listen to her intently as she rakes through her luggage for a dressing gown for you to wear as she tears into you. About how stupid she felt and how uncomfortable you made her feel. How embarrassing it was for her to wait by herself in the club while you got dry fucked on the dance floor. How violating it was to have you both burst into her room while you had your tongues down each other’s throats. And how inconsiderate you were to not only her, but the entire floor of the hotel as you wailed whilst you got fucked stupid by Toji.

You broke down. You didn’t want her sympathy but you made sure to tell her you couldn’t be more apologetic if you tried. You were sorry, and you were just as embarrassed. You’ve made such a stupid fool of yourself and you’re so ashamed. Your life, your mind, it’s all in tatters. Thoughts and feelings are not things you can bring yourself to understand at the moment. And you debate whether you should tell Nobara about last night, about Toji. About what he did. She brought a roll of toilet paper from her bathroom to act as tissue paper and invited you to sit with her under the pearlescent morning sky on the balcony.

“He was lying,” you began whilst wiping your tears with the toilet paper. She raised an eyebrow, urging you to continue. “He was lying about being French. He started speaking English after we had sex.” you admitted. She audibly gasped, unable to believe what she was hearing. She got up, preparing to go and give him a piece of her mind. But you informed her that he’s already gone.

“Bastard. I’ll kill him if I see him again. How fucked up can you be?”

“It was the best sex of my life, Nobara.” you confess.

“Huh?”

“I… Yeah. It was the best I’ve ever had, and he explained it to me… It was the rush of not understanding each other. It made it exciting.” you reiterated the points that Toji had made to you hours earlier in an attempt to explain your embarrassment away. But she wasn’t buying it, her mouth hung open in disapproval, awaiting her turn to speak.

“Do you hear yourself?”

“No I know, but it was really good sex.”

“There’s more to life than sex.”

“No, I don’t think there is for me,” you breathe. It’s like you’re finally accepting you are destined for nothing. You’re just floating. Coasting, even. And maybe now, that’s okay. “I think I… I like him.”

“I’m not doing this,” she tells you as she rises from her seat again. She heads back inside, unable to tolerate this conversation for a second longer. “Just so we’re clear, you understand that he’s manipulated the fuck out of you. Yeah? D’ya get that?”

“You’re making it sound worse than it is—”

“No, I’m not. It’s just that bad.” she carries on. “And if you like him so much. And you get married, and have some kids. Ignore the fact he’s twice your age, if your kids ask how you met you’re going to have to tell them that he gaslit you into bed. How fucking romantic.” she finishes, slamming the balcony door shut behind her and gathering her things. You see through the glass that she gets herself ready and leaves the hotel room.

Leaving you alone to dwell on her words.

You end up going back to your own room eventually, showering and cleansing yourself of your dalliance with Toji. It’s not like you don’t get where Nobara was coming from, you just wish that she gave you more of a chance to speak. What Toji did was fucked, you aren’t entirely stupid. You just can’t ignore that the way he fucked you was otherworldly. But if it comes to him or your best friend, you’re going to choose her every single time. So once you’re clean, you make a vow to yourself to get ready and find her so that you can apologise and hopefully make up. It would be a shame to spend the remainder of your vacation on bad terms with one another.

Just as you pressed the down arrow on the elevator, the doors opened and Nobara was alone inside. She tried to barge passed you, but you grabbed the flesh of her upper arm and begged her to listen to you. She yanked her arm away from you, and carried on walking to her room.

“I’m really not in the mood to talk to you right now.” she told you, and you could understand. But couldn’t she at least hear what you had to say?

“Okay, fine, Nobara. You think I’m an idiot, who doesn’t?” you tell her. She stops her movements from that. Are you really going to keep using your insecurities as an excuse for your shitty behaviour? “I know I’m wrong, and you’re more important to me than anything. So, how about we go for a meal later and try and forget the whole thing? I’d hate to lose you over this, you come first.” you grovel. She swivels to face you and sizes you up. She can see you’re being genuine, but she’s still unsure. She can’t resist, however, when you don your signature smile at her. She nods, accepting your invite.

Another hurdle down.

There’s no hand holding this time as you walk through the lobby together. It’s awkward, actually, being with her after your argument. You’ve told her about a restaurant that you and your father always go to while you’re here. It’s the best food you’ve ever had, you assure her.

She isn’t disappointed, and you suspect it’s the reason for her sudden change in mood. It’s like nothing ever happened. You’re back to laughing and joking. Calling each other names, endearingly, not as actual insults. She does apologise to you too, telling you that maybe she was a little harsh. She just wants what is best for you, that’s all. You feel the same about her, and you promise you understand. If it’ll save your friendship, you have no use for Toji.

But if that’s true… why are you swiping your phone off the dinner table so quickly when a text comes through?

Why are your cheeks filling with blood as you read what the message says?

You don’t care about your friendship, clearly.

Otherwise you wouldn’t have invited Toji to come to your hotel room again later tonight.

You kiss Nobara goodnight when you return to your hotel. She enters her room, full bellied and ready for a good nights rest. You’d feel the same if you hadn’t skimped on eating. You’re deplorable, really, because the minute he texted you there was no doubt in your mind that you were going to invite him over to see you again. You didn’t want to be bloated while he finished what he started with you earlier.

He heeds your warning, making sure to be quiet when he knocks on your door. You let him in, eagerly, not giving him the chance to say hello before you jump him. He slams the door behind himself; you chastise him for immediately forgetting that you told him to be quiet. He grins, biting your lower lip between his teeth and kissing you to shut that pretty little mouth of yours up.

You assume she didn’t hear, maybe she has those ridiculous headphones of hers on.

Toji settles you down onto the bed below, slowly undressing you as he kisses whatever skin on your body becomes exposed as he pulls your clothing off. You can’t help but mewl, you’ve missed him. You’ve missed those pretty, scarred lips that send your mind spiralling.

He gets on his knees, pulling your body to the edge of the bed and hooking your legs over his shoulders. He looks up at you with a dangerous glimmer in his jade green eyes, licking a stripe over your panty clad mound.

“Couldn’t keep me away, could ya?”

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