(“Tonight she just yelling “Fuck me,” two weeks she’ll be yelling “Fuck me!” ~ Chance The Rapper on “Cocoa Butter Kisses🫶🏾.”)

“Fuck you, broke ass bitch!” You yell out to Toji, grabbing another slipper and chucking it at him. It always ended like this— him coming home smelling like weed, cheap ass perfume, and strong alcohol. This ended with the two of you going back and forth, him claiming he “ain’t been paying bitches any mind,” yet you saying otherwise.

“Yeah, yeah, you keep crawling back to this ‘broke ass bitch.’” He mocks, not sparing you a glance as he continues to pack the little items he had left. He groaned as he slowly looked over at you, his expression stoic and nonchalant.

“Don’t text my phone after this either, m’fucking done with yo’ crazy ass.” He states, standing up to his full height and grabbing his bags. You scoff, walking up to him and following behind him to walk him out. “You’ll end up blocked, don’t even worry about it..!”

He ignores the bullshit you sputter out, walking out before hearing you speak up yet again; something along the lines of “fuck you,” and “I hate you.” Whatever, he’s not fazed. He knows you’ll end up crawling back to him in about two weeks, begging for his attention.

And that’s exactly what happened.

“T-Tojiii!” You whine out, your face pushed in the pillow by his calloused hand, his other firmly pressing on your back to keep your arch. “Nuh uh, take this shit like the good fuckin’ girl I know.” He spits, lowering down so his chest is against your back.