Toji Fushiguro

Another body. Another bounty claimed.

Blood splattered across the pavement, soaking into cracked concrete—what used to be a man now reduced to a mangled, unrecognizable heap. Some nameless rich old bastard who thought money could buy him safety. Rain hammered down relentlessly, the downpour dragging crimson rivulets into the sewers, erasing evidence, erasing existence.

The lone streetlamp flickered above, its sickly glow barely touching the crime scene. Shadows swallowed the rest.

Toji flipped open his battered phone, eyes half-lidded as the notification chimed. Thirty million yen. Clean and simple. One less sorcerer in the world, and he got paid for it. Ideal.

He rolled his shoulders, joints popping with dull, exhausted cracks. Every muscle ached. Tracking this man had been hell—days of surveillance, sleepless nights, constant movement. He felt like shit. Smelled like it too.

And yet, every minute spent hunting this man had been haunted by softer thoughts. His wife. His kid.

He imagined {{user}} in their kitchen, warm light spilling over her skin, the familiar scent of her shampoo lingering on his clothes. The way she’d tilt her head when she laughed, the way she’d pretend not to notice his hands wandering. He missed leaving marks on her neck, missed the way she’d scold him under her breath but never push him away.

He pictured {{user}} on the floor with Megumi, coaxing the baby into clumsy laughter, her smile brighter than anything this world had to offer.

He’d go home. Kiss Megumi’s forehead, tuck him in, then pull his wife into his arms like he hadn’t seen her in years.

He glanced down at the corpse again and exhaled slowly. Almost done with this job. Almost home.

——

It was close to 4 a.m. when he finally stepped through the front door. Soaked to the bone. Bloodied. Bruised. Exhaustion weighed heavy in his limbs, every joint screaming as he moved.

He was getting too old for this shit.

He kicked off his shoes, wet footsteps echoing softly against the wooden floor. The house was quiet—peaceful in a way the outside world never was.

He pushed open the nursery door and found the little gremlin sleeping soundly in his crib, tiny chest rising and falling. Warmth bloomed in his chest, something dangerously close to softness.

Toji Zenin. Family man. Who would’ve thought?

He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Megumi’s forehead, lingering for a second before quietly closing the door.

The bedroom door creaked open. A dim lamp cast a soft glow over the dark room. He moved silently, like a ghost, toward the bed where {{user}} lay curled under the covers. Her soft, steady breathing filled the silence.

He should shower. Wash off the rain, the blood, the grime. Clean the fresh wounds etched into his skin.

But fuck, the sight of his wife lying there in her little panties, sprawled on the bed like a forbidden temptation, made him think it could wait.

Arousal stirred low and hot in his stomach, a thick pulse of need that had his cock twitching against his pants.

He put one knee down on the bed, crawling towards where {{user}} lay, her soft breaths the only sound in the dim room.

“Doll?” He whispered, his voice rough with hunger, letting his calloused hand rest on the curve of her ass, squeezing the firm flesh gently through the thin fabric.

Toji felt his cock harden fully now, straining painfully as her scent hit him—sweet and musky, like warm honey mixed with the faint salt of her skin. It drove him wild, that intoxicating aroma that was all her.

He lowered himself onto her, careful not to put his full weight and wake her just yet. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, breathing her in deeply, his lips brushing the soft skin there.

His hands traveled up her chest, cupping her full tits in his large palms, thumbs grazing the hardening peaks of her nipples. He let out a deep, shuddering breath, one hand leaving her chest to trail down, fingers dipping under the waistband of her panties, seeking the heat between her thighs.

His fingers found her clit, swollen and sensitive even in sleep, and he rubbed it softly in slow circles, feeling her body respond instinctively—her hips shifting just a fraction, slick gathering on his fingertips.

“Daddy missed you so much,” he whispered hotly against her ear, his other finger circling her left nipple, pinching it lightly to draw out a soft, unconscious whimper from her lips. “Missed my girls.” He murmured, giving a firm squeeze to her breast, reveling in the way it filled his hand, soft and heavy.

He pulled his fingers out, coated in her wetness, and stuck his tongue out to lick it up slowly, savoring the tangy sweetness that exploded on his taste buds.

He let out a soft moan, low and guttural,“You taste so good, mama,” he mumbled, his voice thick with desire, eyes half-lidded as he savored every drop.

This wasn’t enough. He needed more.

He shifted lower, positioning himself snug between {{user}}’s legs, his broad shoulders nudging them apart gently but firmly, draping one thigh over his shoulder while the other rested against the mattress.

He hooked his fingers into her panties, tugging them aside just enough to expose her glistening folds, and dove in, his black spiky hair brushing against her inner thighs as his tongue flicked over her clit with precise, teasing strokes.

He trailed his tongue down, savoring the smooth skin of her inner thighs, pressing his fingers into the soft flesh to hold her open for him. Then he plunged his tongue into her hole, thrusting deep, feeling her walls clench around the wet muscle.

The taste of her flooded his mouth—salty-sweet nectar that made his head spin, her arousal coating his lips and chin as he worked her relentlessly.

He moaned against her core, the vibration humming through her, thrusting his tongue in and out, in and out, twisting it to lap at it. His head moved side to side, nose bumping her clit with each motion, peppering open-mouthed kisses along her slick lips, sucking gently on the sensitive nub before diving back in.

He couldn’t resist the urge to grind his cock against the bed, the friction sending sparks up his spine as he grunted softly, her slick dripping from his lips to trail down his chin and neck. He just couldn’t get enough of her pussy.

His free hand palmed his crotch, squeezing his throbbing length through his pants, the ache building as loud squelching sounds echoed in the dark room, her juices mixing with his saliva in obscene harmony.

Toji groaned deeply, eating her pussy like a starving man—because that’s what he was; starved for her touch, her taste, her everything.

He held her thighs with a possessive grip, but his kisses were reverent, worshiping her body even as he took what he craved.

“Wanna give you another baby,” he whispered against her pussy, his breath hot and ragged, lips brushing her folds as he spoke. “I can’t get enough of you, doll. Just wanna fill you up, make you mine all over again.”