— Toji Fushiguro x f!reader fluff imagine.

— Warnings: Mentions of cleaning up blood. Fluff. Comfort at the end. Slight angst if you squint. Slight sexual tension.

— WC: 1.4k

—

Hearing a knock at your door at two in the morning was most unwelcoming, but not surprising.

You groan, sitting up in your bed for a few more minutes, rubbing your eyes, trying to rake your mind for who in the world could be coming to knock on your door this late.

Your movements are slow as you climb out of the bed, but your pace is soon corrected when you hear another knock on the door, this one heavier than the last.

"Coming, Jesus Christ," you mutter as if the knocker would even hear you. You slip on your slippers and make your way out of your bedroom and into the hallway to open the door, and, when your gaze meets a tall man, looming over you, you furrow your eyebrows the moment you recognize him.

"Toji..." You say his name in a deep breath, hardly believing your eyes.

Toji Fushiguro, the man you've taken into your home ever since the first day you've met him. You remember it clearly, hardly fond of the memory as it's stuck to the back of your mind like a sticky residue left over from peeling away an old sticker. He was found lying in a dark alleyway, attempting to bandage himself up with a piece of torn-up cloth from his shirt over an open bleeding wound, so you helped him out and took him home to fix him up, and now, here he is, for maybe the hundredth time appearing at your doorstep for help.

"Hey."

His greeting is brief, and almost annoyed as he immediately moves to brush past you, inviting himself inside. You huff, hanging your head when you hear him slip his shoes off inside and make his way farther into your apartment, knowing he'd do something like this, simply making your apartment a place of habit.

You close the door behind you once you step back inside and you cross your arms, looking at the tall man who's made his way to the kitchen sink, washing blood off of his arms with your laundry detergent. You cross your arms over one another, making your way into the kitchen, looking at him disapprovingly.

"Really? Can't even ask nicely if you can come inside? Can't even give me a warning that you're coming? No call, or text? You just show up here like you live here. It's two o'clock in the fucking morning, Toji," You chastise him, and you let your arm fly out to direct his attention to the clock on the wall, but he remains unbothered, continuing to scrub the remnants of blood off of his arms, now using your newly bought Scrub Daddy. You narrow your eyes at this and you let out a royal groan, shaking your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose, knowing no matter how much you try, you'll never be able to get rid of this man. "I don't even know why I bother."

You hear the water shut off to the kitchen sink and a deep sigh coming from the man, which makes you look up and remove your fingers from the bridge of your nose. You watch him as he takes a few paper towels and dries himself off before slowly turning to face you as he leans against the counter.

"Sorry," Is all he says—a lazy reply, which is what you get from him every single time. Anger boils inside of you, wanting to shout and rage, you open your mouth to speak but he quickly shuts you up when he speaks again. "You're right. I should've called," he says, his tone sounding more sincere. He finishes drying his arms and he tosses the paper towels into the trash can. Surprised at his sudden sincerity, you shut your mouth. He approaches you, looming over you once again, and his fingers find their way under your chin, tilting up your head to look up at him.

Immediately, the feeling of rage smooths out and mellows into a feeling of calm when he touches you, because just like Toji, you had a habit.

He was your bad habit, whether he knew that or not, you were addicted to letting him touch you, which is why you let him into your home even though you put up a fight every single time.

Green, emerald eyes meet yours, and the scar on his lip quirks when he sees you immediately melt at his touch. He rubs his thick, calloused thumb over your chin which makes your legs weak.

"I was in the area and needed a place to wash up. Assumed ya would be alright with it, yeah?" He says, his tongue dripping in sickeningly, sweet silver, knowing you'd fall like a mouse to his fangs because he knew you secretly loved taking care of him and fixing him.

"Yeah." Your reply is soft, just like he expects, so that scar on his lip turns up even more as his fangs are revealed.

"'Atta girl." He presses a kiss to your forehead, and before you know it, you're turning on your heel, leading Toji away from the kitchen to your bedroom.

You pull a futon from out of your closet and you roll it out onto the floor while Toji stands at the doorway with his arms crossed over one another. You place a pillow onto the mat, throw a duvet over it, and then stand back up to gesture to the prepared sleeping place.

"Ta-da," you exclaim, a bit proudly as you offer him a place to sleep, but the crossed arms and a raised eyebrow on Toji's stature make you want shrink. "What?"

He scoffs, shaking his head. "There's no way I'm sleeping on that." He's distasteful as his face scrunches up. He moves away from the door and goes to stand in front of the futon, placing his hands on his hips as he sizes it up before turning to look at your bed. "Why can't I sleep with you?"

When he suggests that, you feel like a little mouse again, wanting to say yes just so he can sink his teeth into you again, but, you stand your ground, even if you're a bit meeker than you'd like to be.

"B-Because uhm... u-uh... because you don't have a change of clothes. You're dirty, Toji. Can't have you sleeping in my bed. I mean, you came into my home and the first thing you did was wash blood off of your arms!" You remark, now placing your hands on your hips as you try to tell him off, but Toji sighs and rolls his eyes.

He makes a move, bringing his hands away from his hips to grab at the base of his shirt and he pulls it off of him, and then he slips off his pants. You watch with wide eyes, as this was unexpected.

"There, now I'm not in my dirty clothes. Besides," He grunts as he climbs into your bed anyway, despite your words. Not that you're going to argue anyway as you watch his large frame slide underneath the blankets and roll onto his back. He places an arm underneath his head, and a thick thigh sneaks out from under the covers. "It's not like we haven't slept together before."

You want to curse Toji for being right, and you want to curse him for stripping down to his underwear as he climbs into the bed, but, you refrain and instead opt for grumbling under your breath as you climb into bed next to him anyway, but you keep your distance, keeping your back turned toward him.

He chuckles at this, finding your resistance amusing, as he knows within a few mere seconds you'd be all over him after a few touches.

He tests this theory and his hands find the curve of your hip, and he gently touches it, rough fingers slider under your shirt to caress your stomach.

"Don't know why you're so far away."

His theory is confirmed when you feel yourself melting again, and, turning back to your bad habit, you face him and scoot back towards him, propping your head up onto his warm, broad chest, listening to the soft thrum of his heartbeat.

He sighs and relaxes, and gives the top of your head a quick kiss before closing his eyes.

"That's my girl."