sum ⋮ ⌗ ┆what's it like being in a situationship with toji (18+)

there’s a few reasons why toji fushiguro is single. 

he’s a man that likes his freedom way too much, coming and going as he pleases without explaining himself to anyone. he keeps his life simple on purpose. he likes his space, his schedule, and the freedom to disappear for a while whenever he feels like it. relationships mean drama he doesn’t have time for, so he stays detached. well that’s the basic reason. 

then there’s his ex-wife and his kid. their marriage crashed and burned years ago, but they still have to co-parent their son. it left enough baggage that toji keeps most people at a distance. he sees himself as a decent enough father even if he knows he fucks up sometimes, showing up for megumi’s games when he can and making sure the kid has what he needs. he thinks he loves in a quite weird way, he doesn’t do big gestures but he does make time when it counts and worries about the boy more than he lets on.

and then there’s you. 

toji thinks you fit in his life perfectly. starting in just one night bleeding into the next until it became routine. he wasn’t the type to stick around in the first place, yet here you are months deep in whatever unlabeled mess you guys are in. you’re younger than him, not by much but enough that he notices it in the way you see things sometimes, the energy you bring that cuts through his usual detachment without trying too hard. he likes that about you, how you dont push for more than what’s there but still manage to make space for yourself in his day.

he found out through you that young people would call this type of relationship casual, the word slipping out one night when you were both tangled up in your sheets and he asked what you thought this was between you. he likes that label better than friends with benefits, which sounds corny and juvenile to him, like some college hookup that doesn't fit the way you two keep circling back to each other. 

casual for him simply means he can let you into his life without promises. it means he can let himself into your apartment on random nights, you go to his place other nights. conversation stays easy, him ranting about work stuff and you sharings bits of your day, but it always shifts quick after a few minutes, his mouth on your neck and his hands pulling you closer until you’re riding him. that's how it is with the both of you. he likes how casual lets mornings with you happen, waking up to you stealing his shirt and making coffee together before he heads out, no questions about when he’ll be back. 

some days he picks you up after work, the weekends where he stays over feel even easier under that label, him fixing small things around your place or just lounging with you in bed, his big frame taking up most of the space while you talk about anything and everything, he even makes the effort to text you during the week now and then. casual makes it simple to keep things separate like that, his like with megumi in one box and this thing with you in another, no overlap unless he wants it.

⊹ ࣪ ˖

“that how you ride?”

toji teases as he leans back against the headboard, hands loose on your hips  while you sink down onto him. you're straddling his lap in the middle on his bed, sheets already kicked to the side. he’s thick and deep inside you, stretching you open.

“shut up,” you mutter, rolling your hips slow, grinding down so heels every inch. “you love it when i take my time. can literally feel how hard you are.”

he groans fingers digging into your ass as you lift up and slide back down. “yeah? keep talking like that and i might start believing you being in charge.” his green eyes drag over your body, watching the way your tits move with every roll of your hips. “fuck–look at you. so wet already, you’ve been thinking about this all day, haven’t you? dirty girl.” 

you brace your hands on his chest and pick up the pace, riding him harder. “..maybe i have. maybe i touched myself earlier thinking about how good you stretch me. you gonna do something about it or just talk shit?” the words make his grip tighten, one hand sliding up to pinch your nipple, rolling  it between his fingers until you moan louder.

“keep riding me just like that and i’ll give you whatever you want,” he says, toji then thrusts up to meet you on the next downstroke making you gasp. “that’s it.. bounce on this dick, baby. show me how bad you need it.” you lean forward so your clit grinds against him, toji’s freehand comes up to grip the back of your neck, pulling you down into a messy kiss, all tongue and teeth while you keep moving on him. 

when you pull back for air he doesn't let you go far, forehead pressed to yours. “s-sooo fucking tight..this pussy sucks me everytime. you feel that? love how deep i am?” you nod, breath shake as you ride him faster, thighs burning but you don’t mind because the pleasure is just so good. “yes—fuck, toji, you’re so deep.. love it–love it so much…. don’t stop.”

“good fucking girl. tell me more, yea? want to hear you beg for it while you’re creaming all over me.” you lean back, hands on his thighs for leverage, riding him with every energy you had left.  your voice wrecks as you keep moaning his name telling him how close you are. “then cum. lemme feel it… soak me baby.”

you keep grinding down on him chasing that edge. “i’m so–i’m so close.” he kept his eyes on you watching as your orgasm hits you, your walls clamping down around him as you cry his name. “toji–! shit shit….oh god–” your nails dig into his shoulders and he groans loud. you lean in close, still riding him with little energy, whispering against his mouth, “cum inside me. fill me up, toji, i want all of it baby.” that pushes him over the edge, he lets out another groan, hips jerking as he starts to cum. “shit–take it. every fucking drop.”

you keep moving your hips in lazy circles, milking him though it while he twitches inside you. toji wonders how you could still do that after all that. right as he’s coming down, he looks up at you pulling a lazy smirk, “spit in my month, baby.”

you don’t hesitate, leaning down and letting a string of spit drop onto his tongue. swallowing it as he pulls you down into another kiss, tongues sliding together. you two stay like that for a long minute, connected and messy, until toji starts cleaning for the both of you. 

⊹ ࣪ ˖

you stay pressed against his chest for a little while longer. toji eventually sighs and shifts under you. 

“shower,” he grumbles. he lifts you off him carefully and stands up, stretching his back. “you comin’?”

you shake your head still too tired, ‘in a minute.”

he quietly heads to the bathroom. toji showers really fast when alone, you doubt he’ll take longer than 10 minutes inside. you pull his discarded shirt and pad into the kitchen for a drink. the doorbell rings just as you set the glass down.

you walk over and open the door without thinking. 

a woman with sharp features and dark hair stands there. she’s dressed like she just came from work–blouse, jeans, purse on her shoulder. her eyes drop straight to your bare legs, toji’s oversized shirt, and the obvious fucked up state of your hair. her mouth presses into a thin line. 

you think you can safely assume who she is.

“so this is what he’s doing now,” she says as she looks you over again, slower this time, judging every detail. “you look young.”

you open your mouth but nothing comes out right away. 

you hear heavy footsteps from behind. toji appears a second later, towel low on his hips, water still running down his chest. 

“cleats?” he asks, guessing what she’s here for. 

“yeah, megumi left them again.” her eyes flick back to you. “didn’t realize you had a guest.”

toji exhales through his nose. “go wait inside,” he tells you. he then steps out and pulls the door almost close behind him.

you don’t go far. as bad as it sounds you wanna hear a bit. to be fair…. they’re obviously going to talk about you? you should hear. you sit on the arm of the couch, close enough to hear through the crack. 

“she one of your regulars?” his ex asks, not even trying to be quiet. “barely looks old enough to be out of college.”

“she’s a friend,” toji says evenly. “and she’s out of college. she helps out sometimes, it’s not a big deal.”

a friend. the word lands like a slap.

it sucks hearing it out loud like that. you don’t even know why it bothers you so much—you keep telling yourself you don’t want to get attached, that this casual thing is perfect because it’s easy and he never makes you feel like you have to ask for more. but it still stings, sitting here in his shirt after he was just inside you, knowing he’s out there drawing that clean line with her. you don’t want to be the girl who catches feelings and ruins it. 

his ex laughs, “right. a friend who answers your door half naked. real classy, toji. try not to let megumi walk in on your ‘friends’ next time. he doesn’t need to see that.” 

“drop it,” toji says, his tone hardening. “i’ll grab the cleats, you can leave.”

“just keep your shit seperate. that’s all i’m saying.”

their voices drop after that. normal co-parent talk about schedules and practices. you stay on the couch, arms wrapped around yourself, trying to ignore the knot in your chest. you swallow it down. a minute later the door opens.

“sorry about her,” toji says as he closes the door, “she’s always been like that.”

you shrug, “it’s whatever, it’s none of my business.”

he watches you for a second, like he’s trying to read you, but you don’t give him anything. he walks over and stops right in front of you. 

“you good?” he asks.

“yeah,” you say softly. you still lean into his touch instead of pulling away. the sting is still there, but you push it back where it belongs. this is what casual means. his life, his kid, his ex—all in their own boxes. you’re in yours. you knew that from the start.

toji nods, seeming satisfied with the answer, and pulls you closer. “c’mere.” his mouth finds yours, slow and comforting like always. you let it happen because with toji fighting wouldn’t change anything.

when dadkuna gets the call that his son’s suspended for fighting at school

the call hits at 3:17 pm. the school number on the cracked screen of your phone. you swipe to answer before it can ring twice.

“hello?"

“mrs. ryomen? we need either you or your husband to come down to the office. your son was involved in a physical altercation. he’s suspended for three days pending further review. he’s waiting here now.”

you press two fingers to the bridge of your nose, already feeling the headache bloom. “wha—okay. we’ll be there in twenty.”

sukuna’s in the garage, hunched over the old harley he’s been rebuilding for months. black tank clinging to his back from the heat, grease streaked across his forearms where his tattoos peek out. he doesn’t look up when you step into the open bay.

“hey kuna?” you softly call, “school called.”

he keeps wiping the carburetor with a shop rag. “what now.”

“he got into a fight and they’re suspending him. we have to go pick him up.”

the rag stops mid-motion. his jaw flexes once, visible even from the side. “he start it?”

“they didn’t say over the phone.”

“figures.” he tosses the rag onto the cluttered workbench. his tools scattered, half-empty beer can sweating beside a crumpled pack of cigarettes. “let’s go.”

the drive is quiet except for the sound of the truck and sukuna's knuckles white on the wheel. you know better than to fill the silence with platitudes. he hates that shit.

ren, your son, is slouched in one of the orange plastic chairs bolted to the wall outside the principal’s door. his split lip already swelling, fresh bruise blooming purple under his left eye, knuckles split and crusted. blood’s dried in a thin line down the front of his gray hoodie. he looks up when the door swings open, meets sukuna’s stare straight on. no ounce of apology in his eyes. just the same stubborn set to his mouth you’ve seen a thousand times in the mirror.

he was looking exactly like sukuna at that age in the old photos you've seen.

not only does he look like his dad, he for sure got his temper too.

"you better have a damn good reason." sukuna stops in the doorway, boots planted. “what the fuck happened.”

“some kid wouldn’t shut up about mom,” ren says, “said shit i wasn’t about to let stand, so i handled it.”

ahhh fortunately for him, that's enough of an excuse to sukuna.

you feel sukuna’s temper rise and you just sigh knowing he’ll most likely tolerate this behavior again. you move first, moving pass them into the principal’s office ready to get this over with so you can have a talk with your son properly.

the principal’s a nervous-looking guy in a polyester suit two sizes too big. he looks ridiculous, you and sukuna once had a good laugh talking about him. he stands when you enter. sukuna follows, shoulders filling the narrow doorway. he doesn’t sit. just crosses his arms and leans against the wall, tattoos catching the harsh overhead light.

he clears his throat twice. “mr. and mrs. ryomen thank you for coming so quickly.”

sukuna stays silent as the principal fidgets with a pen.

“your son initiated the physical contact,” he starts. “the other student sustained a mild concussion. we’re recommending–”

“he said something about my wife,” sukuna interrupts. "that true or what?"

the principal lets out a nervous chuckle. “be that as it may, we maintain a zero-tolerance policy toward violence–”

sukuna’s voice cuts in again, “say that part again. what exactly did the other kid say about her?”

the room goes still, you don’t know whether to feel embarrassed or proud that both your husband and son are standing up for you like this. ren shifts his weight, sneakers squeaking on the linoleum.

“called her a gold digger,” ren says. “said she only married you for the cash and that you’re just some ex-con tattoo artist who knocked her up... that pissed me off."

sukuna’s gaze flicks to you for half a heartbeat. you shake your head the smallest amount—no. he exhales loudly, the frustration in him growing more.

“so my kid put his hands on a loudmouth who was talking shit about his mother,” sukuna says. “and you’re punishing him for it.”

“school policy is clear—”

“your policy’s obviously shit.” sukuna pushes off the wall. “you let these kids talk whatever trash they want all day, but the minute someone actually responds, you clutch your pearls?”

“mr. ryomen, i’m going to have to ask you to—”

you can't stand this.

“me and my husband understand the suspension. we’ll take him home. do we need to sign anything?”

the principal hesitates, then slides the forms across the desk. you sign quick while sukuna keeps staring at the motivational poster on the wall like he’s imagining putting a fist through it.

the parking lot’s baking under the late-afternoon sun, shadows stretch long and jagged from the chain-link fence and the row of staff cars, a couple seagulls wheel overhead, crying once before banking toward the football field. the truck chirps twice when sukuna thumbs the fob, the doors unlock with that familiar pop.

sukuna's ready to hear whatever lecture you have to give this time.

“backseat, ren,” you say flatly.

he doesn’t argue. he ducks his head and slides into the back without a sound. the leather creaks under your guys weight as sukuna fires the engine.

“you don’t get to decide what’s worth fighting over at school,” you start. “i don’t care what he said about me. you don’t put your hands on someone because words hurt your feelings. that’s not how this works.”

ren stares down at the rubber floor mat.

“you’re grounded. two weeks. no phone, no going out, no friends over. you come straight home after school when the suspension’s up. you do your work, you help around the house, and you think about why throwing punches isn’t a solution. clear?”

ren nods once, slow. “yeah.”

“say it.”

he lifts his eyes just enough to meet yours in the rearview. “it’s clear. i’m grounded two weeks. no phone, no nothing.”

you hold his gaze another second, then turn back forward. “good.”

the rest of the drive unspools in thick silence. traffic thins as you leave the school zone, the sun dipping low enough that the dashboard glows faintly orange. you keep your eyes on the road, fingers laced loosely in your lap, while sukuna’s grip on the wheel stays steady but no longer bone-white.

when the truck finally rolls into the driveway, sukuna kills the engine with a twist of the key. the sudden quiet is awkward.

you unbuckle first, turning halfway in your seat. “i’m starting dinner. kuna,” you pause facing your husband, “talk to him.”

sukuna exhales through his nose when you enter the house. he reaches over and twists the key back just enough to kill the accessory power, plunging the cabin into near-darkness except for the faint streetlight spilling through the windshield.

ren’s voice comes out low, a little nervous now that it's just his dad with him, “you mad at me?”

sukuna laughs in response. “mad?” he echoes. “nah, not mad. you did what you had to do.”

"wait really??"

“kid talked shit about your mom,” sukuna continues, “you handled it. part of me gets that—hell, most of me does. but your mother just laid it out plain, she's right, you don’t swing first at school. not because defending family is wrong. because getting caught makes it useless. next time you decide something’s worth handling, make sure no one sees. or better yet, walk away and deal with it where cameras don’t reach and mouths don’t run to teachers.”

ren nods slowly, throat working like he’s swallowing everything he wants to say. “she’s pissed.”

“she’s pissed because she doesn’t want you turning into me at sixteen.” sukuna finally flicks his eyes to the rearview mirror, meeting ren’s gaze head-on. “look just take the grounding, do the time, don’t argue with her. she’ll cool off faster that way.”

ren rubs his jaw, careful around the swelling bruise. “yeah… okay. i get it, thanks dad.”

sukuna pops his door open, the dome light flooding the cab with weak yellow. “come on. go help her with whatever she’s doing in there and ice that face before it swells completely shut.”

ren climbs out first, shoulders hunched a little like the weight of the day is still sitting on them. sukuna follows a second later, pocketing the keys as he exhales once more.

later that night when the house quiets down, ren’s already shut himself in his room, lights off early for once.

you and sukuna are both in bed too.

sukuna’s sprawled face-down on the mattress, shirt gone, the wide map of his back exposed.

he groans low when you climb onto the bed behind him, knees bracketing his hips. your hands settle between his shoulder blades first, thumbs digging slow circles into the knots that live there permanently.

“fuck—right there,” he mutters into the pillow.

massaging him is one of the routines you guys do before sleeping, sukuna claims it completes his day no matter how shitty it went.

you keep the pressure steady, working down the length of his spine. the room smells faintly of his soap and the arnica gel you rubbed into ren’s face earlier.

after a minute you lean forward, hair brushing his shoulder.

“sooo you two talk in the truck?”

“yeah.”

your palms slide up to his traps, kneading deeper. “and???”

“told him he did good putting the kid in his place.” sukuna shifts his head to the side so he can talk properly. “but that he can’t be dumb about it next time. school cameras, witnesses, snitches—whole system’s built to catch the guy who actually swings. told him if he’s gonna handle shit, handle it clean. or don’t handle it at all.”

you pause for half a second, glaring at him. “so you basically told him it’s fine to fight… just don’t get caught.”

he snorts. “i told him reality ain’t the same as the lecture you gave. sweetheart, you want him safe and i want him smart. both can be true.”

your hands start moving again, tracing the ridges of muscle along his ribs. “you’re enabling him.”

“i’m not telling him to start fights.” sukuna turns his head the other way, cheek pressed flat to the pillow so he can see you out of the corner of his eye. “i’m telling him the world doesn’t run on zero-tolerance posters. kid talks about you like that again? someone’s gonna feel it. might as well be someone who knows how to throw properly. i just don’t want him suspended every other week or expelled before he graduates.”

you press your thumbs into the base of his skull, he hisses softly, sounding pleased.

“he looks so much like you in those old pictures now,” you say quieter.

“he’s got your eyes though. softer when he’s not pissed. he’ll figure it out.”

you lean down, lips touching the warm skin behind his ear. “you really not mad at him?”

“nah.” his voice drops lower. “‘m feeling proud. some punk runs his mouth about my wife and my kid lays him out without blinking? that’s blood. that’s mine.” he exhales again. “but i hate seeing his face fucked up. hate even more that he’s gonna carry my reputation around like a target. they already look at him sideways because of me.”

your hands slide down his arms now, working the tension out of his forearms, the same ones that were covered in grease earlier. “he’s not you at sixteen. he’s got us. both of us.”

sukuna turns over suddenly. quick enough that you have to brace on his chest to keep balance. he catches your wrists and tugs you down until you’re half sprawled across him. his eyes flick over your face, looking tired.

“c’mere,” he mutters, already reaching. "didn't i just get lucky?"

his hand slides to the back of your neck, fingers curling into your hair just enough to guide you down. he pulls you in like it’s the most natural thing after a day like this.

the kiss lands soft, lips pressing slow against yours. you taste the faint mint from the gum he was chewing earlier, mixed with whatever’s left of the day on his breath. his other arm loops around your lower back, palm flat and heavy, dragging you closer until there’s no space left.

your chest against his, heartbeat thumping steady under your hand.

he angles his head to deepen the kiss. tongue brushes yours lazily like he’s savoring it, you feel his fingers tighten slightly in your hair before loosening again.

you pull back after a minute, just enough to breathe. noses still touching, foreheads pressed.

he doesn’t open his eyes right away. just stays close, breathing you in.

“better?” you whisper.

“mm yeah.”

his thumb strokes along your jaw then he leans up and kisses you again. it's shorter this time like he’s saying shut up and stay here. lips linger a second longer before he drops his head back to the pillow with a tired exhale.

arms stay wrapped around you, one hand settling low on your back, the other still loosely in your hair.

“stop thinking about it, kay? he’ll be alright,” he says eventually. “yer a great mom and 'm trying not to screw up too. he got time to fuck up and figure it out. more than i ever did.”

sum ⋮ ⌗ ┆what's it like being in a situationship with toji (18+)

there’s a few reasons why toji fushiguro is single. 

he’s a man that likes his freedom way too much, coming and going as he pleases without explaining himself to anyone. he keeps his life simple on purpose. he likes his space, his schedule, and the freedom to disappear for a while whenever he feels like it. relationships mean drama he doesn’t have time for, so he stays detached. well that’s the basic reason. 

then there’s his ex-wife and his kid. their marriage crashed and burned years ago, but they still have to co-parent their son. it left enough baggage that toji keeps most people at a distance. he sees himself as a decent enough father even if he knows he fucks up sometimes, showing up for megumi’s games when he can and making sure the kid has what he needs. he thinks he loves in a quite weird way, he doesn’t do big gestures but he does make time when it counts and worries about the boy more than he lets on.

and then there’s you. 

toji thinks you fit in his life perfectly. starting in just one night bleeding into the next until it became routine. he wasn’t the type to stick around in the first place, yet here you are months deep in whatever unlabeled mess you guys are in. you’re younger than him, not by much but enough that he notices it in the way you see things sometimes, the energy you bring that cuts through his usual detachment without trying too hard. he likes that about you, how you dont push for more than what’s there but still manage to make space for yourself in his day.

he found out through you that young people would call this type of relationship casual, the word slipping out one night when you were both tangled up in your sheets and he asked what you thought this was between you. he likes that label better than friends with benefits, which sounds corny and juvenile to him, like some college hookup that doesn't fit the way you two keep circling back to each other. 

casual for him simply means he can let you into his life without promises. it means he can let himself into your apartment on random nights, you go to his place other nights. conversation stays easy, him ranting about work stuff and you sharings bits of your day, but it always shifts quick after a few minutes, his mouth on your neck and his hands pulling you closer until you’re riding him. that's how it is with the both of you. he likes how casual lets mornings with you happen, waking up to you stealing his shirt and making coffee together before he heads out, no questions about when he’ll be back. 

some days he picks you up after work, the weekends where he stays over feel even easier under that label, him fixing small things around your place or just lounging with you in bed, his big frame taking up most of the space while you talk about anything and everything, he even makes the effort to text you during the week now and then. casual makes it simple to keep things separate like that, his like with megumi in one box and this thing with you in another, no overlap unless he wants it.

⊹ ࣪ ˖

“that how you ride?”

toji teases as he leans back against the headboard, hands loose on your hips  while you sink down onto him. you're straddling his lap in the middle on his bed, sheets already kicked to the side. he’s thick and deep inside you, stretching you open.

“shut up,” you mutter, rolling your hips slow, grinding down so heels every inch. “you love it when i take my time. can literally feel how hard you are.”

he groans fingers digging into your ass as you lift up and slide back down. “yeah? keep talking like that and i might start believing you being in charge.” his green eyes drag over your body, watching the way your tits move with every roll of your hips. “fuck–look at you. so wet already, you’ve been thinking about this all day, haven’t you? dirty girl.” 

you brace your hands on his chest and pick up the pace, riding him harder. “..maybe i have. maybe i touched myself earlier thinking about how good you stretch me. you gonna do something about it or just talk shit?” the words make his grip tighten, one hand sliding up to pinch your nipple, rolling  it between his fingers until you moan louder.

“keep riding me just like that and i’ll give you whatever you want,” he says, toji then thrusts up to meet you on the next downstroke making you gasp. “that’s it.. bounce on this dick, baby. show me how bad you need it.” you lean forward so your clit grinds against him, toji’s freehand comes up to grip the back of your neck, pulling you down into a messy kiss, all tongue and teeth while you keep moving on him. 

when you pull back for air he doesn't let you go far, forehead pressed to yours. “s-sooo fucking tight..this pussy sucks me everytime. you feel that? love how deep i am?” you nod, breath shake as you ride him faster, thighs burning but you don’t mind because the pleasure is just so good. “yes—fuck, toji, you’re so deep.. love it–love it so much…. don’t stop.”

“good fucking girl. tell me more, yea? want to hear you beg for it while you’re creaming all over me.” you lean back, hands on his thighs for leverage, riding him with every energy you had left.  your voice wrecks as you keep moaning his name telling him how close you are. “then cum. lemme feel it… soak me baby.”

you keep grinding down on him chasing that edge. “i’m so–i’m so close.” he kept his eyes on you watching as your orgasm hits you, your walls clamping down around him as you cry his name. “toji–! shit shit….oh god–” your nails dig into his shoulders and he groans loud. you lean in close, still riding him with little energy, whispering against his mouth, “cum inside me. fill me up, toji, i want all of it baby.” that pushes him over the edge, he lets out another groan, hips jerking as he starts to cum. “shit–take it. every fucking drop.”

you keep moving your hips in lazy circles, milking him though it while he twitches inside you. toji wonders how you could still do that after all that. right as he’s coming down, he looks up at you pulling a lazy smirk, “spit in my month, baby.”

you don’t hesitate, leaning down and letting a string of spit drop onto his tongue. swallowing it as he pulls you down into another kiss, tongues sliding together. you two stay like that for a long minute, connected and messy, until toji starts cleaning for the both of you. 

⊹ ࣪ ˖

you stay pressed against his chest for a little while longer. toji eventually sighs and shifts under you. 

“shower,” he grumbles. he lifts you off him carefully and stands up, stretching his back. “you comin’?”

you shake your head still too tired, ‘in a minute.”

he quietly heads to the bathroom. toji showers really fast when alone, you doubt he’ll take longer than 10 minutes inside. you pull his discarded shirt and pad into the kitchen for a drink. the doorbell rings just as you set the glass down.

you walk over and open the door without thinking. 

a woman with sharp features and dark hair stands there. she’s dressed like she just came from work–blouse, jeans, purse on her shoulder. her eyes drop straight to your bare legs, toji’s oversized shirt, and the obvious fucked up state of your hair. her mouth presses into a thin line. 

you think you can safely assume who she is.

“so this is what he’s doing now,” she says as she looks you over again, slower this time, judging every detail. “you look young.”

you open your mouth but nothing comes out right away. 

you hear heavy footsteps from behind. toji appears a second later, towel low on his hips, water still running down his chest. 

“cleats?” he asks, guessing what she’s here for. 

“yeah, megumi left them again.” her eyes flick back to you. “didn’t realize you had a guest.”

toji exhales through his nose. “go wait inside,” he tells you. he then steps out and pulls the door almost close behind him.

you don’t go far. as bad as it sounds you wanna hear a bit. to be fair…. they’re obviously going to talk about you? you should hear. you sit on the arm of the couch, close enough to hear through the crack. 

“she one of your regulars?” his ex asks, not even trying to be quiet. “barely looks old enough to be out of college.”

“she’s a friend,” toji says evenly. “and she’s out of college. she helps out sometimes, it’s not a big deal.”

a friend. the word lands like a slap.

it sucks hearing it out loud like that. you don’t even know why it bothers you so much—you keep telling yourself you don’t want to get attached, that this casual thing is perfect because it’s easy and he never makes you feel like you have to ask for more. but it still stings, sitting here in his shirt after he was just inside you, knowing he’s out there drawing that clean line with her. you don’t want to be the girl who catches feelings and ruins it. 

his ex laughs, “right. a friend who answers your door half naked. real classy, toji. try not to let megumi walk in on your ‘friends’ next time. he doesn’t need to see that.” 

“drop it,” toji says, his tone hardening. “i’ll grab the cleats, you can leave.”

“just keep your shit seperate. that’s all i’m saying.”

their voices drop after that. normal co-parent talk about schedules and practices. you stay on the couch, arms wrapped around yourself, trying to ignore the knot in your chest. you swallow it down. a minute later the door opens.

“sorry about her,” toji says as he closes the door, “she’s always been like that.”

you shrug, “it’s whatever, it’s none of my business.”

he watches you for a second, like he’s trying to read you, but you don’t give him anything. he walks over and stops right in front of you. 

“you good?” he asks.

“yeah,” you say softly. you still lean into his touch instead of pulling away. the sting is still there, but you push it back where it belongs. this is what casual means. his life, his kid, his ex—all in their own boxes. you’re in yours. you knew that from the start.

toji nods, seeming satisfied with the answer, and pulls you closer. “c’mere.” his mouth finds yours, slow and comforting like always. you let it happen because with toji fighting wouldn’t change anything.

sum ⋮ ⌗ ┆what's it like being in a situationship with toji (18+)

there’s a few reasons why toji fushiguro is single. 

he’s a man that likes his freedom way too much, coming and going as he pleases without explaining himself to anyone. he keeps his life simple on purpose. he likes his space, his schedule, and the freedom to disappear for a while whenever he feels like it. relationships mean drama he doesn’t have time for, so he stays detached. well that’s the basic reason. 

then there’s his ex-wife and his kid. their marriage crashed and burned years ago, but they still have to co-parent their son. it left enough baggage that toji keeps most people at a distance. he sees himself as a decent enough father even if he knows he fucks up sometimes, showing up for megumi’s games when he can and making sure the kid has what he needs. he thinks he loves in a quite weird way, he doesn’t do big gestures but he does make time when it counts and worries about the boy more than he lets on.

and then there’s you. 

toji thinks you fit in his life perfectly. starting in just one night bleeding into the next until it became routine. he wasn’t the type to stick around in the first place, yet here you are months deep in whatever unlabeled mess you guys are in. you’re younger than him, not by much but enough that he notices it in the way you see things sometimes, the energy you bring that cuts through his usual detachment without trying too hard. he likes that about you, how you dont push for more than what’s there but still manage to make space for yourself in his day.

he found out through you that young people would call this type of relationship casual, the word slipping out one night when you were both tangled up in your sheets and he asked what you thought this was between you. he likes that label better than friends with benefits, which sounds corny and juvenile to him, like some college hookup that doesn't fit the way you two keep circling back to each other. 

casual for him simply means he can let you into his life without promises. it means he can let himself into your apartment on random nights, you go to his place other nights. conversation stays easy, him ranting about work stuff and you sharings bits of your day, but it always shifts quick after a few minutes, his mouth on your neck and his hands pulling you closer until you’re riding him. that's how it is with the both of you. he likes how casual lets mornings with you happen, waking up to you stealing his shirt and making coffee together before he heads out, no questions about when he’ll be back. 

some days he picks you up after work, the weekends where he stays over feel even easier under that label, him fixing small things around your place or just lounging with you in bed, his big frame taking up most of the space while you talk about anything and everything, he even makes the effort to text you during the week now and then. casual makes it simple to keep things separate like that, his like with megumi in one box and this thing with you in another, no overlap unless he wants it.

⊹ ࣪ ˖

“that how you ride?”

toji teases as he leans back against the headboard, hands loose on your hips  while you sink down onto him. you're straddling his lap in the middle on his bed, sheets already kicked to the side. he’s thick and deep inside you, stretching you open.

“shut up,” you mutter, rolling your hips slow, grinding down so heels every inch. “you love it when i take my time. can literally feel how hard you are.”

he groans fingers digging into your ass as you lift up and slide back down. “yeah? keep talking like that and i might start believing you being in charge.” his green eyes drag over your body, watching the way your tits move with every roll of your hips. “fuck–look at you. so wet already, you’ve been thinking about this all day, haven’t you? dirty girl.” 

you brace your hands on his chest and pick up the pace, riding him harder. “..maybe i have. maybe i touched myself earlier thinking about how good you stretch me. you gonna do something about it or just talk shit?” the words make his grip tighten, one hand sliding up to pinch your nipple, rolling  it between his fingers until you moan louder.

“keep riding me just like that and i’ll give you whatever you want,” he says, toji then thrusts up to meet you on the next downstroke making you gasp. “that’s it.. bounce on this dick, baby. show me how bad you need it.” you lean forward so your clit grinds against him, toji’s freehand comes up to grip the back of your neck, pulling you down into a messy kiss, all tongue and teeth while you keep moving on him. 

when you pull back for air he doesn't let you go far, forehead pressed to yours. “s-sooo fucking tight..this pussy sucks me everytime. you feel that? love how deep i am?” you nod, breath shake as you ride him faster, thighs burning but you don’t mind because the pleasure is just so good. “yes—fuck, toji, you’re so deep.. love it–love it so much…. don’t stop.”

“good fucking girl. tell me more, yea? want to hear you beg for it while you’re creaming all over me.” you lean back, hands on his thighs for leverage, riding him with every energy you had left.  your voice wrecks as you keep moaning his name telling him how close you are. “then cum. lemme feel it… soak me baby.”

you keep grinding down on him chasing that edge. “i’m so–i’m so close.” he kept his eyes on you watching as your orgasm hits you, your walls clamping down around him as you cry his name. “toji–! shit shit….oh god–” your nails dig into his shoulders and he groans loud. you lean in close, still riding him with little energy, whispering against his mouth, “cum inside me. fill me up, toji, i want all of it baby.” that pushes him over the edge, he lets out another groan, hips jerking as he starts to cum. “shit–take it. every fucking drop.”

you keep moving your hips in lazy circles, milking him though it while he twitches inside you. toji wonders how you could still do that after all that. right as he’s coming down, he looks up at you pulling a lazy smirk, “spit in my month, baby.”

you don’t hesitate, leaning down and letting a string of spit drop onto his tongue. swallowing it as he pulls you down into another kiss, tongues sliding together. you two stay like that for a long minute, connected and messy, until toji starts cleaning for the both of you. 

⊹ ࣪ ˖

you stay pressed against his chest for a little while longer. toji eventually sighs and shifts under you. 

“shower,” he grumbles. he lifts you off him carefully and stands up, stretching his back. “you comin’?”

you shake your head still too tired, ‘in a minute.”

he quietly heads to the bathroom. toji showers really fast when alone, you doubt he’ll take longer than 10 minutes inside. you pull his discarded shirt and pad into the kitchen for a drink. the doorbell rings just as you set the glass down.

you walk over and open the door without thinking. 

a woman with sharp features and dark hair stands there. she’s dressed like she just came from work–blouse, jeans, purse on her shoulder. her eyes drop straight to your bare legs, toji’s oversized shirt, and the obvious fucked up state of your hair. her mouth presses into a thin line. 

you think you can safely assume who she is.

“so this is what he’s doing now,” she says as she looks you over again, slower this time, judging every detail. “you look young.”

you open your mouth but nothing comes out right away. 

you hear heavy footsteps from behind. toji appears a second later, towel low on his hips, water still running down his chest. 

“cleats?” he asks, guessing what she’s here for. 

“yeah, megumi left them again.” her eyes flick back to you. “didn’t realize you had a guest.”

toji exhales through his nose. “go wait inside,” he tells you. he then steps out and pulls the door almost close behind him.

you don’t go far. as bad as it sounds you wanna hear a bit. to be fair…. they’re obviously going to talk about you? you should hear. you sit on the arm of the couch, close enough to hear through the crack. 

“she one of your regulars?” his ex asks, not even trying to be quiet. “barely looks old enough to be out of college.”

“she’s a friend,” toji says evenly. “and she’s out of college. she helps out sometimes, it’s not a big deal.”

a friend. the word lands like a slap.

it sucks hearing it out loud like that. you don’t even know why it bothers you so much—you keep telling yourself you don’t want to get attached, that this casual thing is perfect because it’s easy and he never makes you feel like you have to ask for more. but it still stings, sitting here in his shirt after he was just inside you, knowing he’s out there drawing that clean line with her. you don’t want to be the girl who catches feelings and ruins it. 

his ex laughs, “right. a friend who answers your door half naked. real classy, toji. try not to let megumi walk in on your ‘friends’ next time. he doesn’t need to see that.” 

“drop it,” toji says, his tone hardening. “i’ll grab the cleats, you can leave.”

“just keep your shit seperate. that’s all i’m saying.”

their voices drop after that. normal co-parent talk about schedules and practices. you stay on the couch, arms wrapped around yourself, trying to ignore the knot in your chest. you swallow it down. a minute later the door opens.

“sorry about her,” toji says as he closes the door, “she’s always been like that.”

you shrug, “it’s whatever, it’s none of my business.”

he watches you for a second, like he’s trying to read you, but you don’t give him anything. he walks over and stops right in front of you. 

“you good?” he asks.

“yeah,” you say softly. you still lean into his touch instead of pulling away. the sting is still there, but you push it back where it belongs. this is what casual means. his life, his kid, his ex—all in their own boxes. you’re in yours. you knew that from the start.

toji nods, seeming satisfied with the answer, and pulls you closer. “c’mere.” his mouth finds yours, slow and comforting like always. you let it happen because with toji fighting wouldn’t change anything.

“baby…” his voice is wrecked, “baby wake up.”

you don’t stir right away. he swallows, throat dry because it's physically hurting so bad.

“please.” louder this time, cracked. his hand slides under the blanket, finds your hip, squeezes like he’s anchoring himself. “need you so bad it hurts.”

you mumble something sleepy, shifting just enough that your ass presses back against him. he chokes on air.

“fuck—don’t do that,” he hisses, but he’s already canting his hips again, rutting slow and shameless. the friction makes his balls ache worse. “baby… wake up. please. can’t—can’t sleep like this.”

his fingers slip under the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down just enough to bare the cleft of your ass. he groans at the sight even in the dark—soft, warm, perfect. his cock jumps hard in his boxers.

“been leaking for you for hours,” he mutters, voice thick. “dripping all over myself thinking about your pussy. need to be inside you. need it now.”

you finally blink awake, groggy, voice slurred. “cho…? oh okay."

he doesn’t let you finish. his mouth is on your neck, sucking hard enough to bruise while his hand yanks your shorts lower.

“sorry,” he breathes against your skin, not sorry at all. “couldn’t wait. hurts so fucking bad. please—just let me put it in. just the tip. i’ll be good.”

you’re still half asleep but your body knows him—thighs parting on instinct, a sleepy little hum leaving you. that’s all the permission he needs.

he shoves his boxers down just enough, cock springing free—thick, flushed dark, tip shiny and swollen, a fat bead of precum dripping down the shaft. he grips himself, smears the head through your folds, coating himself in you.

“so wet already,” he groans like it’s killing him.

he notches at your entrance, pushes in slow until he’s buried to the hilt. the stretch makes you gasp, makes him shudder hard against your back.

“fuck—tight,” he pants, hips stuttering. “so fucking tight. missed this pussy.”

he doesn’t thrust right away. just stays deep, grinding in slow circles, letting you feel every thick vein, every pulse. his hand slides up under your shirt, cups your tit, thumb brushing your nipple while he mouths at your shoulder.

“gonna fuck you slow,” he whispers, voice shaking. “gonna fill you up. been dreaming about pumping you full all night.”

then he starts moving then lazy, deep rolls of his hips, dragging out every stroke so he can feel your walls flutter around him. wet sounds fill the quiet room, one hand slips between your legs, fingers finding your clit, rubbing messy little circles while he keeps that slow, punishing grind.

“cum on it,” he pleads, voice raw. “need to feel you squeeze me. need it so bad—gonna cum the second you do. been edged all night thinking about breeding you.”

his thrusts get sloppier, harder to control. he’s whining now, desperate sounds against your neck.

“please baby, let me cum inside. want to feel it drip out of you tomorrow.”

you clench around him hard and he breaks. his hips slamming forward in a fast pace, burying himself as deep as he can while he spills. thick, hot ropes painting your insides, so much it leaks out around his cock even while he’s still pulsing.

he doesn’t pull out. just stays seated, cock softening inside you, arms wrapping tight around your waist.

“thank you,” he mumbles, lips brushing your shoulder. “love you. so fucking much.”

"love you too cho." he’s already half-asleep again, still buried deep, cum slowly leaking out around him, warm and sticky between your thighs.

sum ⋮ ⌗ ┆what's it like being in a situationship with toji (18+)

there’s a few reasons why toji fushiguro is single. 

he’s a man that likes his freedom way too much, coming and going as he pleases without explaining himself to anyone. he keeps his life simple on purpose. he likes his space, his schedule, and the freedom to disappear for a while whenever he feels like it. relationships mean drama he doesn’t have time for, so he stays detached. well that’s the basic reason. 

then there’s his ex-wife and his kid. their marriage crashed and burned years ago, but they still have to co-parent their son. it left enough baggage that toji keeps most people at a distance. he sees himself as a decent enough father even if he knows he fucks up sometimes, showing up for megumi’s games when he can and making sure the kid has what he needs. he thinks he loves in a quite weird way, he doesn’t do big gestures but he does make time when it counts and worries about the boy more than he lets on.

and then there’s you. 

toji thinks you fit in his life perfectly. starting in just one night bleeding into the next until it became routine. he wasn’t the type to stick around in the first place, yet here you are months deep in whatever unlabeled mess you guys are in. you’re younger than him, not by much but enough that he notices it in the way you see things sometimes, the energy you bring that cuts through his usual detachment without trying too hard. he likes that about you, how you dont push for more than what’s there but still manage to make space for yourself in his day.

he found out through you that young people would call this type of relationship casual, the word slipping out one night when you were both tangled up in your sheets and he asked what you thought this was between you. he likes that label better than friends with benefits, which sounds corny and juvenile to him, like some college hookup that doesn't fit the way you two keep circling back to each other. 

casual for him simply means he can let you into his life without promises. it means he can let himself into your apartment on random nights, you go to his place other nights. conversation stays easy, him ranting about work stuff and you sharings bits of your day, but it always shifts quick after a few minutes, his mouth on your neck and his hands pulling you closer until you’re riding him. that's how it is with the both of you. he likes how casual lets mornings with you happen, waking up to you stealing his shirt and making coffee together before he heads out, no questions about when he’ll be back. 

some days he picks you up after work, the weekends where he stays over feel even easier under that label, him fixing small things around your place or just lounging with you in bed, his big frame taking up most of the space while you talk about anything and everything, he even makes the effort to text you during the week now and then. casual makes it simple to keep things separate like that, his like with megumi in one box and this thing with you in another, no overlap unless he wants it.

⊹ ࣪ ˖

“that how you ride?”

toji teases as he leans back against the headboard, hands loose on your hips  while you sink down onto him. you're straddling his lap in the middle on his bed, sheets already kicked to the side. he’s thick and deep inside you, stretching you open.

“shut up,” you mutter, rolling your hips slow, grinding down so heels every inch. “you love it when i take my time. can literally feel how hard you are.”

he groans fingers digging into your ass as you lift up and slide back down. “yeah? keep talking like that and i might start believing you being in charge.” his green eyes drag over your body, watching the way your tits move with every roll of your hips. “fuck–look at you. so wet already, you’ve been thinking about this all day, haven’t you? dirty girl.” 

you brace your hands on his chest and pick up the pace, riding him harder. “..maybe i have. maybe i touched myself earlier thinking about how good you stretch me. you gonna do something about it or just talk shit?” the words make his grip tighten, one hand sliding up to pinch your nipple, rolling  it between his fingers until you moan louder.

“keep riding me just like that and i’ll give you whatever you want,” he says, toji then thrusts up to meet you on the next downstroke making you gasp. “that’s it.. bounce on this dick, baby. show me how bad you need it.” you lean forward so your clit grinds against him, toji’s freehand comes up to grip the back of your neck, pulling you down into a messy kiss, all tongue and teeth while you keep moving on him. 

when you pull back for air he doesn't let you go far, forehead pressed to yours. “s-sooo fucking tight..this pussy sucks me everytime. you feel that? love how deep i am?” you nod, breath shake as you ride him faster, thighs burning but you don’t mind because the pleasure is just so good. “yes—fuck, toji, you’re so deep.. love it–love it so much…. don’t stop.”

“good fucking girl. tell me more, yea? want to hear you beg for it while you’re creaming all over me.” you lean back, hands on his thighs for leverage, riding him with every energy you had left.  your voice wrecks as you keep moaning his name telling him how close you are. “then cum. lemme feel it… soak me baby.”

you keep grinding down on him chasing that edge. “i’m so–i’m so close.” he kept his eyes on you watching as your orgasm hits you, your walls clamping down around him as you cry his name. “toji–! shit shit….oh god–” your nails dig into his shoulders and he groans loud. you lean in close, still riding him with little energy, whispering against his mouth, “cum inside me. fill me up, toji, i want all of it baby.” that pushes him over the edge, he lets out another groan, hips jerking as he starts to cum. “shit–take it. every fucking drop.”

you keep moving your hips in lazy circles, milking him though it while he twitches inside you. toji wonders how you could still do that after all that. right as he’s coming down, he looks up at you pulling a lazy smirk, “spit in my month, baby.”

you don’t hesitate, leaning down and letting a string of spit drop onto his tongue. swallowing it as he pulls you down into another kiss, tongues sliding together. you two stay like that for a long minute, connected and messy, until toji starts cleaning for the both of you. 

⊹ ࣪ ˖

you stay pressed against his chest for a little while longer. toji eventually sighs and shifts under you. 

“shower,” he grumbles. he lifts you off him carefully and stands up, stretching his back. “you comin’?”

you shake your head still too tired, ‘in a minute.”

he quietly heads to the bathroom. toji showers really fast when alone, you doubt he’ll take longer than 10 minutes inside. you pull his discarded shirt and pad into the kitchen for a drink. the doorbell rings just as you set the glass down.

you walk over and open the door without thinking. 

a woman with sharp features and dark hair stands there. she’s dressed like she just came from work–blouse, jeans, purse on her shoulder. her eyes drop straight to your bare legs, toji’s oversized shirt, and the obvious fucked up state of your hair. her mouth presses into a thin line. 

you think you can safely assume who she is.

“so this is what he’s doing now,” she says as she looks you over again, slower this time, judging every detail. “you look young.”

you open your mouth but nothing comes out right away. 

you hear heavy footsteps from behind. toji appears a second later, towel low on his hips, water still running down his chest. 

“cleats?” he asks, guessing what she’s here for. 

“yeah, megumi left them again.” her eyes flick back to you. “didn’t realize you had a guest.”

toji exhales through his nose. “go wait inside,” he tells you. he then steps out and pulls the door almost close behind him.

you don’t go far. as bad as it sounds you wanna hear a bit. to be fair…. they’re obviously going to talk about you? you should hear. you sit on the arm of the couch, close enough to hear through the crack. 

“she one of your regulars?” his ex asks, not even trying to be quiet. “barely looks old enough to be out of college.”

“she’s a friend,” toji says evenly. “and she’s out of college. she helps out sometimes, it’s not a big deal.”

a friend. the word lands like a slap.

it sucks hearing it out loud like that. you don’t even know why it bothers you so much—you keep telling yourself you don’t want to get attached, that this casual thing is perfect because it’s easy and he never makes you feel like you have to ask for more. but it still stings, sitting here in his shirt after he was just inside you, knowing he’s out there drawing that clean line with her. you don’t want to be the girl who catches feelings and ruins it. 

his ex laughs, “right. a friend who answers your door half naked. real classy, toji. try not to let megumi walk in on your ‘friends’ next time. he doesn’t need to see that.” 

“drop it,” toji says, his tone hardening. “i’ll grab the cleats, you can leave.”

“just keep your shit seperate. that’s all i’m saying.”

their voices drop after that. normal co-parent talk about schedules and practices. you stay on the couch, arms wrapped around yourself, trying to ignore the knot in your chest. you swallow it down. a minute later the door opens.

“sorry about her,” toji says as he closes the door, “she’s always been like that.”

you shrug, “it’s whatever, it’s none of my business.”

he watches you for a second, like he’s trying to read you, but you don’t give him anything. he walks over and stops right in front of you. 

“you good?” he asks.

“yeah,” you say softly. you still lean into his touch instead of pulling away. the sting is still there, but you push it back where it belongs. this is what casual means. his life, his kid, his ex—all in their own boxes. you’re in yours. you knew that from the start.

toji nods, seeming satisfied with the answer, and pulls you closer. “c’mere.” his mouth finds yours, slow and comforting like always. you let it happen because with toji fighting wouldn’t change anything.