Toji Fushiguro

It was his lucky fucking day.

Toji was always out somewhere, gambling. Always trying to make quick money. Almost ninety percent of the time, his efforts failed. He almost always lost. “Luck is being a stubborn motherfucker and not shining down on me today.” Toji would always mutter. He wasn’t wrong. Luck was almost never in his favor.

But fuck, today it most definitely was.

He woke up this morning in his messy, cheap apartment; not to the usual sound of his neighbors screaming and threatening to kill each other, but silence. That already put him in a good mood. Until he was walking to work and he found a scratch off on the ground. When he played, he won five hundred dollars.

Holy shit.

“The gods must’ve finally took pity on me,” he grinned as he stared down at the winning ticket. “Finally decided I’m worthy of good things like this.”

That same night, he decided to celebrate, alone. He got dressed in a crisp, black button down shirt with matching dress pants, making himself more presentable. He decided to go to a new jazz bar that had opened up not too long ago.

Toji didn’t really give a shit about jazz, but it seemed like a nice bar, no biggie, right?

“It shouldn’t be that bad,” Toji muttered under his breath before heading inside. The decor was lavish and radiated wealth, with the dim lighting, sultry, jazzy music playing from the live band in the corner, and the expensive designer furniture. The place was way out of his price range. Hey, I deserve a nice overpriced ass whiskey once in a while. Hey thought as he took a seat at the bar, a nicely dressed bartender immediately greeting him.

“Whiskey, no ice.” Toji said, and the bartender nodded and quickly scurried off. When he arrived again with his drink, Toji placed a bill on the table and began to sip. That’s when he saw her.

Toji nearly choked on his drink when he saw the woman, sitting right across the bar. The luck gods had officially chosen him as their favorite for the day. She was the most beautiful woman Toji had ever seen. It wasn’t just her features though, it was her dress.

The woman was wearing a tight fitted, sinful red dress that outlined every single curve that Toji was interested in. It should be criminal for a woman to wear a dress like that, and he couldn’t stop the surge of arousal that shot through him at the idea of removing that dress for her.

Or ripping it off.

Gathering up his courage, he stood, took his whiskey, and strode to the other side of the bar, radiating confidence. He could feel the eyes on him as he walked, of jealous men and yearning women, but he ignored them, his eyes only set on one person.

The freakishly beautiful woman in the red dress.

He slid into the seat next to her, tilting his head to the side and giving her a smirk when she glanced at him. She was even more beautiful up close. “Evening,” he said in a low tone, his voice a deep raspy sound. “Can I buy you a drink?”