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tojisun · 1 year

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i fall to pieces

dilf!toji x college student!fem reader

!! this is a mess of tropes that i’ve always wanted to explore (such as lovingly tending injuries and being in love with your best friend’s dad) - the second one is a major CW; legal age gap (reader is in her early 20s and toji is in his late 40s); mentions of bullying (not between toji and the reader); petnames; no curses au // 2.9k words

: i had fun writing this even though i kinda forgot what the plot is midway; i hope u guys would like it <33; title is from cherry - lana

your knuckles, the ones that aren’t bruised, raps on the door, impatience thrumming in your veins. the ache in your jaw still stings, but you are far too focused on the split skin on your knuckles and how the trickling blood had turned the hems of your cream-coloured long sleeves into a garish sight. your chest heaves at another ragged exhale, your whole body trembling, feeling the burning remnants of exhaustion.

the door opens after your last bout of knocks.

“jesus, what- y/n?”

you startle, not expecting toji to be the one to answer the door.

“what the fuck happened to you?” he asks when you didn’t reply, reaching to wrap around your less injured hand, clasping his thick fingers and warm palm around your wrist to tug you inside the quaint home.

“uh,” you say unintelligibly, following him with unsteady feet as he leads you two to the living room. “is gumi-chan here, fushiguro-san?” is what you said instead, not really knowing where to even begin with unpacking the dumpster fire of a fight that you were in just minutes ago.

he clicks his tongue. “i told you to just call me ‘toji’, kid.” he sits you on the sofa, your body bouncing on the plush cushions in a cartoonish way. “and brat’s with y’r other friend. the loud one with pink hair.”

you hum. “yuuji,” you say even though toji would just forget your friend’s name again.

he grunts. “yeah, that one. a’right, you,” toji points at you. “y’stay here and don’t even think about movin’.” then he disappears, his feet padding quietly on the wooden floors.

only when he’s left do you realize how tense you still are, your shoulders poised as if expecting an attack. you force yourself to let go, feeling your body tremble at the extra effort it needed to exert to unwind your aching body. your eyes slip shut, your brows furrowing as your side throbs in pain again. fuck, you thought, the bitch got me good.

any other day, you would’ve found yourself winning a tussle with no injuries. or, you grumbled to yourself, i wouldn’t even be in the tussle. but they had no right to pick on mai like that.

(“heard you sucked cocks to get here,” fake blondie crooned as she wagged her stick-like finger, tutting like mai was a child.

mai bristled—who wouldn’t?

she’s put countless efforts to get to where she is right now, and for her integrity to be questioned, because what? mai’s too pretty, too confident in herself, for a smart kid? clearly fake blondie hasn't seen enough of your friend group if she’s baffled by how someone could be smart and pretty and confident. even panda was charming, and no one even knows what he looks like underneath that mask he stuffs his head in.

so next thing you knew nobara was throwing a punch, with momo jumping at fake blondie, and of course you had to join in; you weren’t going to let your girls fight on their own. but then one of fake blondie’s friends pulled out a bat out of nowhere and hit you at your side.

you stumbled on your feet, almost tumbling to your knees at the sharp pain. mai’s shrill scream had been enough of a wake-up call before you were reaching at bat girl’s hair and yanking hard, forcing her to crumple before you.

it was a blur after that. then mai was nudging you out of the alley, murmuring her thanks, before you four were parting ways.)

you hear toji walking back in and you peel your eyes open, tracking him as he makes his way back to you. he falls on the floor, almost between your legs, and your breath stutters when you realize the lack of proper distance between you and your best friend’s dad, so you clamp your legs shut and looked away just before toji could lift his head to meet your eyes.

you startle when warm hands clasp with yours, your eyes jumping back to toji.

“easy,” he grunts like your heart isn’t thrumming loud and fast within the cages of your ribs. you swallow the lump lodged in your throat.

“ok-y,” you reply, internally cringing when your voice breaks at the end of a single word. fuck, you’re a mess. you clear your throat, feigning nonchalance even as toji begins uncapping the alcohol. “okay,” you repeat.

he hums, spilling alcohol into the cotton ball before pressing the soaked cotton on your split skin. a hiss makes it past your teeth before you are clamping your lips tightly, trying your best not to jostle your body any more. you didn’t even notice your flinch until you hear toji’s soft shh sounds, his thumb running soothing circles on the part of your skin that isn’t wounded or bruised.

“m’sorry,” you murmur, feeling shy all of a sudden, your lips still pursed at the dull thrum of pain.

“s’fine,” he says. “should’a warned you.” toji pauses, the cotton pinched between thick fingers. he looks at you. “good to go?”

you nod, not trusting your treacherous voice anymore.

toji’s lips quirk up in a small smile. “good girl.”

your mind screeches to a halt, your breath getting stuck in your lungs. it is like the world has stopped orbiting—it hasn’t, not when you can see toji dressing your wounds with gentle hands and even gentler touch—and all that’s left is the echoing words that toji just uttered.

good girl, he said naturally. genuinely.

good girl, he said in a voice that denoted nothing out of the norm, the same way we’d say the sky is blue and the ocean is deep and you are a good girl.

(his good girl.)

good girl, he said like he meant it.

fuck. fuck.

a squeal is building in your throat, your body trembling softly as the emotions seated in your chest began to expand and spill over and–

“ow!” you hiss, unconsciously tugging your hand away from toji’s hold, feeling the bite of stinging alcohol running along your tender skin where scratches and beading blood laid.

toji blinks at you. you blink at him in return, feeling prickles of embarrassment creeping from the base of your neck.

you laugh, something so fake and brittle, feeling so ashamed and awkward. “sorry.”

toji shakes his head, huffing fondly, and his eyes crinkling in such a soft way. “c’mon kid, give y’r hand to me and we can finish patchin’ it up.”

you gingerly give him your hand again, licking your lips, wanting to say something even though words aren’t structuring themselves properly in your head, only to collapse into silence as toji’s hands cradle yours softly once again.

(he’s always been so soft with you.)

he hums, approval dancing in his tone. “y’r doin’ well, kid.”

before you could stop yourself, a wheeze punches itself past your throat. christ, the praises.

toji looks up, concerned.

“just parched,” you say before he could ask, feigning dry coughs to strengthen your obvious lie.

“…i’ll get you somethin’ after this,” toji replies hesitantly. “you still like those ramune, yeah?”

“yeah,” you answer, your voice curling as you smile, watching as toji begins to bandage your hand. your cheeks tingle when toji’s lips tug up at hearing your quiet excitement.

you cough, clearing your throat. “i’m shocked gumi-chan kept a stock here,” you say, after a while, wanting to break the loaded silence. “he said he doesn’t like them anymore.” your nose scrunches in judgement.

toji kept to himself for a moment and you wondered if you said something wrong. shame curls in your stomach, chasing away the previous excitement that had been budding in your chest. an apology sits on your tongue, prickling and heavy, then toji huffs. it’s only then do you notice that the bandages are secured but toji still hasn’t let go of your hand.

“yeah, megumi’s done with ‘em,” he finally says, running soothing circles on your skin again. “i just kept buyin’ a bunch cause i know you like ‘em.”

“oh,” you mutter, feeling so breathless and choked up at the same time.

toji chuckles without humour. “yeah. ‘oh’.”

there’s a certain hesitancy in his next caress, an internal battle flickering from within his eyes, and you feel lost, anxiety and desire mixing in an uneasy tandem, overwhelming your veins to the point of silencing the previous beating you had. then, toji lets go.

your hands twitch, jolting to pull him back, but you catch yourself before your touch can connect. but it’s too late: toji had seen your aborted move.

he looks at you, searching for something in your eyes. a heartbeat passed, and you don’t know what’s gotten into you but you fall into his space, your knees hitting the floor with a loud thud. it’d be another pair of bruises that you’d carry home today but for now, with trembling arms and roaring heart, you let your hope choke you to the point of acting stupidly.

the kiss was chaste, cracked lips just landing on top of scarred ones. the world felt faraway yet scorching at the same time.

you feel toji tense under you and panic explodes in your chest.

stupid. stupid!

you pull back, an apology on the tip of your tongue, but you are stopped by toji’s arms encircling your waist to tug you to his lap. one of toji’s arms snake to your back, his palm coming to rest on the back of your head, before you feel him pulling you back into another kiss. this one is deeper. more heated. more desperate.

good. you think to yourself as your eyes shut close, feeling yourself drowning in toji’s kiss. so good.

you loop your arms around toji’s neck, tugging him closer as if you two aren’t already pressed flushed onto each other, raking your fingers through the straight strands of his hair.

you savour the kiss, the moment, toji’s touch. you know that after this, there will be nothing between you and toji. a shared kiss is easy to forget as time crawls by, after all, nothing good will come out if things between yourselves are made serious. you’re not allowed to hope.

but god, the way you still do.

you hope that toji would make you his, whatever “being his” even means. you hope that he’d whisper confessions, stilted as they always are from toji’s lips, or praises. lots and lots of praises. you hope that when you two pull apart for air, toji would push himself back in your space and kiss you again, just as yearning as you are.

(you hope he loves you just as much.)

then, despite your internal cries of ‘too soon’, toji is pulling himself from the kiss. you let go, sucking in air desperately, filling your lungs with needed air to distract yourself from the searing loneliness that is crushing you already.

you clamber off his lap, not meeting his eyes, only to pause when toji refused to let you go.

“uhm,” you begin, trying your best to ignore the tingling of your lips, when toji refused to budge. “toji-san?”

you startle when he cups your cheeks. “told you it’s just ‘toji’, kid.”

“okay,” you murmur. “toji, what’s, uhm, what’s up?”

he chuckles. “well if you keep rollin’ your hips, then somethin’s gon’ be up, a’right.”

you choke, startling on his lap upon hearing his words, the previous tensed atmosphere shattering into something light and humorous. “what the hell?”

but toji doesn’t regale you a response, instead he caresses the skin under your eye, smiling cheekily. “my pretty girl,” he coos.

your lips part, ready for just as cheeky of a response, when toji’s eyes turn sharp and steely, chasing away the stuttering words on the tip of your tongue.

“you fought them well, didn’t you?” he continues, his voice still in that crooning tone. “you came to me, beautiful in y’r anger.” toji’s voice has turned into measured murmurs. “and i know you must’ve won—you always do, kid.”

you nod, not knowing where the conversation is going.

“but you came to me, bleedin’ and achin’ and it terrified me.” he leans forward and presses a kiss on the corner of your lips. “and it got me thinkin’–” he pauses, going silent.

you shiver, feeling the way his lips are still pressed on your skin, ghosting with their touch—teasing, caressing. the desire keeps growing in the pit of your stomach.

then, toji pulls back, his eyes finding yours as he says, “i don’t think i can handle lettin’ you go anymore, pretendin’ i don’t love you.”

“what.” your voice came out as a gasp, your lips (still tingling from toji’s kiss, you noticed with satisfaction) falling in surprise.

“wait,” you say because you couldn’t fathom a reality where toji said he loves you. “what?”

“c’mon kid, up-up,” he replies instead, carefully pushing you off his lap and urging you to stand before he can clamber to his feet. you follow his command, feeling lightheaded and overwhelmed by everything.

he loves you?

“let’s get you y’r ramune,” he continues, pulling you to the kitchen, like he didn’t just drop a bombshell on you. still, you follow him to the kitchen—you would honestly follow him everywhere—hovering by the fridge, bandaged hand intertwined with toji’s own scarred hand, watching as he rummages past refrigerated produce, before pulling out the peach-flavoured soda. your favourite.

toji lets go of your hand and rips the seal off the nozzle before pushing on the ball. the clink of glass on glass is the only sound in the kitchen as toji turns and hands you the drink.

“thank you,” you say before taking a sip.

toji leans forward and presses a kiss on your forehead. “always.”

your cheeks burn, your veins thrumming with each wild pump of your yearning heart. the affection you have for him is spilling over and even with toji’s disjointed confession, you know it’s your turn to make the move.

so you step on your tiptoes, kissing toji on his jaw, before murmuring, “i’ve loved you since.”

as if that was all that toji had been waiting for, toji doesn’t waste any time before he’s scooping you off the floor and plopping you on the counter, his lips are hot as they met yours for another kiss. he cups your jaw, tilting your head up to deepen the kiss. the ramune slips from your hold but toji catches the soda, plopping it beside you, before turning his now free hands to touch whatever they could of your body. you reciprocate with the same ferocity, tugging at black strands and nipping his bottom lip, trying to convey the want and the love and the heat simmering inside you.

toji growls, deep and satisfied, his voice rumbling between you two. it was loaded with an emotion that easily reflected the storm raging in your chest, silencing the budding uncertainty over toji’s affections for you. you scratch at his back, trying to hold onto him tighter, afraid that this is just another dream.

(you used to count every single one of them, only stopping when one of those dreams left you too raw, feeling like you have been gutted and left to bleed on your bed.

you don’t remember the whole of it, but even with only the fragments you were left with, you know why you ache: flashes of a little kid with toji’s eyes and your nose; flashes of a life beyond flirty conversations and fleeting touches; flashes of vows that lasted a lifetime.

you woke up sobbing in your dorm room, feeling so small, so robbed of what you wish life could be with toji.)

toji pulls back, the whine in your throat cutting off into a moan when his lips latch on your throat, sucking and biting—marking you up because you are his. you arch your back, giving toji more room to stake his claim on you.

lust and love are mixing, leaving you breathless and teary-eyed because god you’ve been waiting for this for so long.

“love you,” you hiccup, trembling when toji’s hands hook under your shirt, tickling your skin with his ghosting touch.

“shh,” toji murmurs, fond and understanding, straightening up to gaze back at you again. “i know, baby. i’ve got you.” he loops your legs around his waist before toji is hoisting you up in his arms and, without staggering, carrying you to his room.

your eyes flutter when he carefully lays you down on his bed, his eyes watching you with reverence.

“let me love you,” he whispers.

you nod, softly. desperately. “please.”

his touch is a gentle scorch, his bigger body easily covering yours. when he thrusts, it is deep and and strong and filling, reaching your most intimate parts with measured strokes and unwavering intensity. when you cry his name, he croons and coos, praises spilling from his scarred lips along with his promises of loving you and caring for you, something that is so sentimental even as he continues to fuck you filthily.

“my sweet girl,” he murmurs on your skin, his lips latched on your collarbone. you almost don’t hear him amidst the consistent slaps of his thighs on your pelvis. “my precious, sweet girl.”

that’s how you cum: toji deep in you, your name slipping past his lips like prayer, and your pleasure consuming your every nerve.

you know things aren’t perfect, not yet anyway, but your mind is a mush, overwhelmed with toji (his scent, his touch, his words), your body is singing with euphoric contentment so you bury the worries deep in the pockets of your chest because for now, you are in the arms of the man you love. and he loves you just as firmly.

#suns.f #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk x reader #suns #i had butterflies writing this omg

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