#assassin!toji

[tojisprettylittlething]

MR. AND MRS. FUSHIGURO — MASTERLIST

Assassin!Toji Fushiguro x Assassin!Fem!Reader

🔪 Genre: Action, Thriller, Strangers to Enemies to Lovers, Romance, Smut, Angst, Comedy 📖 POV: Second Person 🔥 Warnings: Violence, Blood, Weapons, Explicit Scenes, Mind Games, Betrayal, Gunplay, Knifeplay, Power Struggles- A lot of stuff...

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ACT I: STRANGERS IN THE DARK (Ch. 1-15)

1. Grocery Store Encounters – A normal day. A normal grocery run. Then Toji walks into your life. 2. The Coffee Shop – You see him again. A coincidence? Or something more? 3. The Art of Watching – A game of cat and mouse begins. You’re both hunters, but who’s the prey? 4. Dancing in the Shadows – A mission goes wrong. Or maybe, it goes exactly as planned. 5. A Gun Between Us – The first real fight. Knives, guns, and something even more dangerous—hatred. 6. Midnight Chase – An assignment forces you to confront Toji head-on. The lines blur. 7. Truce or Trap? – You agree to work together—temporarily. But can you really trust him? 8. Locked and Loaded – You teach him your tricks. He teaches you his. 9. Close Calls and Closer Touches – Tension explodes in an unexpected way. 10. Secrets Under Silk Sheets – A moment of weakness. A moment of passion. A moment that changes everything. 11. Trust is a Loaded Gun – He gets too close. You push him away. 12. Another Mission, Another Mistake – You let your guard down. You regret it. 13. The Kiss That Sealed It – He’s not just a job anymore. He’s something worse. 14. The Night We Became Us – One choice, one decision—your lives are no longer separate. 15. A Dead Man’s Love Letter – The past catches up to you both.

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ACT II: HONEYMOON IN HELL (Ch. 16-35)

16. Mr. & Mrs. Fushiguro – You never wanted a husband. Toji never wanted a wife. But here you are. 17. How to Love a Killer – Toji is difficult. You are worse. 18. Marriage Counseling, Assassin Style – Fighting is easier with fists than words. 19. Bulletproof Vows – "For better or worse" hits differently when guns are involved. 20. Wife, Weapon, Widowmaker – You’re balancing marriage and murder—what could go wrong? 21. Beneath the Bloodstains – He sees a side of you no one else ever has. 22. Fighting or Foreplay? – Who said sparring couldn't be intimate? 23. Dinner with a Side of Danger – Date night turns deadly. 24. Sleeping with the Enemy – You dream of him. You dream of his death. 25. Lies Between the Sheets – There are things you haven’t told him. There are things he hasn’t told you. 26. Jealousy is a Sharp Blade – Another assassin flirts with you. Toji doesn’t like it. 27. Couples Therapy at Gunpoint – Trust is hard when you both have knives behind your backs. 28. A Mission Gone Too Far – You risk your life for him. He hates you for it. 29. Death’s Door and Your Name on His Lips – Toji almost loses you. Almost. Again. 30. The First 'I Love You' Was a Whisper in the Dark – Soft moments don't come easy. 31. Betrayal in a Black Dress – Toji finds out your biggest secret. 32. Revenge is a Lover’s Game – You break his heart. He breaks something worse. 33. No Mercy in Matrimony – You were never meant to be soft. Neither was he. 34. Ruin Me, Darling – The fight that nearly ends it all. 35. Back to Blood and Business – The only way forward is through fire.

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ACT III: TILL DEATH DO US PART (Ch. 36-55)

36. Hunted by Our Own – The agency wants you both dead. 37. Hitman Honeymoon – The world thinks you’re on vacation. You’re really on the run. 38. In the Arms of an Assassin – He saves you. You hate it. 39. One More Kill Before Breakfast – Morning routines, married assassin edition. 40. Megumi – The one thing neither of you planned for. 41. The Last Job – One more kill. Then, maybe, peace. 42. Wife of a Wanted Man – Toji makes the headlines. You make a choice. 43. Between a Kiss and a Kill – Love or survival? You can’t have both. 44. Bleeding in His Arms – You fall. He catches you. 45. Escape Plan – If you leave now, you can live. If you stay, you die together. 46. The Funeral of Mr. and Mrs. Fushiguro – You fake your deaths. The world thinks you’re gone. 47. New Identities, Same Hearts – You try to be normal. It doesn’t work. 48. A House with No Weapons – Domestic life is boring. 49. Date Night Disaster – Toji gets jealous again. It’s still hot. 50. Megumi Says His First Word – Fatherhood looks good on him. 51. Killer Instincts Never Die – You promised to stop. You lied. 52. The Hit That Ruined Everything – One mistake. One bullet. One last fight. 53. Toji, Don’t Die on Me – He bleeds for you. 54. We Were Never Meant to be Normal – The truth finally settles. 55. The Final Kill – One last target. One last goodbye.

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ACT IV: THE LEGACY OF TWO MONSTERS (Ch. 56-70)

56. The Next Generation – Megumi starts to notice the truth. 57. Old Habits, Older Scars – You and Toji can’t sit still. 58. Enemies in the Shadows – Someone knows you’re still alive. 59. Back to the Beginning – The past never stays buried. 60. Hunted Again – Running was never the answer. 61. The Love Story of Two Killers – You tell Megumi how it all began. 62. A Family of Assassins? – The question neither of you want to answer. 63. Peace or Power? – The world calls for you again. 64. One More Bullet – Can you ever truly escape? 65. The Final War – Toji vs. the world. 66. Love in the Line of Fire – You always knew how this would end. 67. A Monster’s Goodbye – One of you isn’t making it out alive. 68. A Widow’s Revenge – If Toji dies, you will burn the world. 69. A New Name, A New Life – But can you ever really leave? 70. Mr. and Mrs. Fushiguro: The End – Or maybe, a new beginning.

[serotonins-stuff]

He isn't the type to let you bend over to pick something up in peace.

As soon as he sees your upper body go down, your ass perched perfectly in the air, he can't help but appear behind you all of a sudden. Hand reeled back, and bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

Just when you notice the devious presence behind you, a loud slap echoes from your right cheek and you fall forward from the impact.

The recoil traveled throughout your entire leg, and he couldn't feel more proud of himself in that moment.

"Ow!" You winced, looking back to see a smug look on his face "Did you have to do it that hard?"

"Listen sweetheart" he chuckled, before bending down to place you over his shoulder "If you're gonna wear that around the house you can't expect me not to touch"

"That was not just a touch" you whined, still feeling the harsh sting your behind has been granted with.

"Awww, then let me rub it better yeah?"

GOJO, TOJI, geto, Sukuna, Bakugo, HAWKS, dabi, KARMA, kurroo, Bokuto, Atsumu, HANMA, BAJI, Mikey, RAN, Tengen

[takuma-talkz]

it’s CANON Ino is 21. He was BORN in 2003.

it’s SHOWNin the manga and anime.

do research.

You is striking at the #1 Ino baddie, I KNOW MY MAN!!

first of all, Jujutsu Kaiden takes place in 2018!!!

SO yes, he is 21 but

take away 21 years from 2018 and you get what? 1997

So you do some fucking research you fucking donkey, YOU FUCKED WIT THE WRONG INO BADDIE

[chappellrroan]

jjk fandom being the funniest lil shits once again

[khywae]

Aftermath #MyAssassinBodyguard ♡

[ghxst-bird]

Unpopular opinion:

Toji and Jin should have met and and become besties that raised their sons together.

[mw4n]

Should ¥XX,000,000 Make Fushiguro's Shit Worth It? - taster

༄ synopsis - Being Toji Fushiguro's in-house private solicitor may pay well, but recently you're reconsidering if the pay makes all the stress (read: Toji himself) worth it. At this point, with all the less-than-legal actions Toji commits on the regular, you're practically a certified mob lawyer. 

"Mr. Fushiguro, it's-" you squint at the clock on your nightstand. "-4 in the morning."  "Get here now." The deep growl in his voice makes you scramble out of bed - and something pool in your stomach. "Right away, sir," You chirp. Much more obediently.   "Good girl." He purrs back.  ?!?!? The disconnect tone on your phone plays for a full minute as you sit frozen.

༄ series tags - toji fushiguro x reader; lawyer! reader; no curses; yakuza/organised crime; violence; explicit content; dilf! toji; tags to be added

<< N/A || ch. 1 OUT NOW >>

( う-´)づ︻╦̵̵̿╤── \(˚☐˚”)/

“You know, you really shouldn’t smoke.”

High-heeled shoes clicked against the floor of the rundown bar, a sagging tote filled to the brim with court documents unceremoniously plopping onto the barstool next to Toji Fushiguro’s lone frame. The bartender didn’t even greet you, knowing you weren’t here to drink but just to fetch Toji. 

A hand intercepted the fresh cigarette in Toji’s hand. So fresh, he hadn’t even had the chance to set down the lighter. 

He turned to you, raising a brow. The incredulous look on his face increased by two more points at the sight of the cigarette now in between your lips. You inhaled the nicotine, tugging the cigarette from your parted lips to blow the haze out with a tilted head. The tenseness in your face relaxed as the sensation of the drug entered your system. 

You rarely, if ever, smoked, but the recent events really did call for it. 

“You’re smoking my cigarette.” You had been working with Fushiguro long enough to know when he was actually annoyed, and this was nowhere close.

You rolled your eyes, snuffing the cigarette out on the ashtray next to Toji. “With all the stress you give me, I need it more than you.” A pause. Maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say. “And you shouldn’t smoke anyway, you’re the one with the kid.”

“I could put a kid in you, easy enough.” Toji smirked.

Externally, you looked as unperturbed as ever, ignoring his quip to rifle for his document in your tote. That was what you were here for, afterall. Externally, you were the image of a perfectly professional lawyer. 

Internally, you had just creamed your underwear. 

[ FULL out now ]

[3-aem]

that caption was literally insane (toji wouldn't have tho) also lovely art!! i wish i could eat it! 💞

thank you 💕 i actually made that piece a while ago the fact it has relevance today is more due to coincidence and the iconography of toji bringing a gun to a magic fight

[tojisprettylittlething]

Chapter One: Grocery Store Encounters

Pairing: Assassin!Toji Fushiguro x Assassin!Reader Warnings: Tension, flirtation, secret identities, normalcy hiding dangerous lives.

Masterlist

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chpt. one - chpt. two - chpt. three - chpt. four - chpt. five - chpt. six - chpt. seven - chpt. eight - chpt. nine - chpt. ten - chpt. eleven - chpt. twelve - chpt. thirteen - chpt. fourteen - chpt. fifteen

There were a million ways to meet someone.

A coffee shop. A bar. A party with too much noise and not enough real conversation. A blind date set up by a well-meaning friend who was trying their hardest to get you out of the lonely rut you were in.

But a grocery store?

A grocery store was supposed to be the place where you picked up milk, bread, maybe some eggs—things to get through the week without much thought. A place of mundane tasks, quick decisions, and little surprises.

And yet, that’s where everything changed.

It was late afternoon when you walked in. You hadn’t meant to go shopping, but you were running out of the basics. You needed bread and eggs, some fruit for the week. Nothing big. Nothing that would take more than an hour or so.

But when you walked through those sliding doors, a sense of wrongness hit you—just a soft undercurrent that whispered, You don’t belong here.

You shook it off as you grabbed your basket, focusing on the list in your head. Fruit. Bananas, strawberries, and some avocados. Milk. Bread. That was it.

You turned into the aisle with the frozen foods, the bright white fluorescent lights making the whole section feel colder than it should. There were too many options to choose from—so many different kinds of frozen pizzas. Pepperoni. Hawaiian. Meat lovers.

Your fingers ran over the boxes lazily, not really interested in the food but rather in just getting through the task as quickly as possible.

That’s when you saw him.

He was standing by the frozen pizza section, staring at the shelves like they were the most complicated thing he’d ever encountered. His dark hoodie was pulled over his head, and his broad shoulders seemed to take up more space than the typical person would.

It was almost comical—this huge guy standing in front of a freezer, looking entirely out of place. Like he didn’t belong, just like you.

You blinked at him for a second too long before turning your attention back to the frozen pizzas, pretending not to notice his presence.

But then, out of nowhere, he spoke.

"Hey."

You froze, your hand lingering on a box of mozzarella sticks. Slowly, you turned toward him, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah?"

He was still looking at the pizzas, his voice casual, like this was a normal conversation between two people who had no business talking. "What’s the difference between all these frozen pizzas?" His gaze flickered up to meet yours, and he wore an expression that clearly read, Help me, I don’t understand.

You blinked. "You’re asking me?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, unfazed by your disbelief. "You look like you know what you’re doing." His voice had that lazy confidence—like he was accustomed to being in charge. And there was something in the way he looked at you, that confidence made you feel noticed.

You swallowed the sudden tension that stirred inside of you. You were not getting distracted. This was a grocery store. You didn’t need this.

Still, you played along. "Well, this one’s classic pepperoni, can’t go wrong. This one has stuffed crust, which is... a solid choice. And this one…" You squinted, leaning closer to read the box more carefully. "Honestly, I don’t even know what that is."

He laughed, a low chuckle that almost made you forget that this was just a weird moment between strangers in a grocery store. "Stuffed crust, huh?" He grabbed the box with the stuffed crust, placing it into his cart. "I’ll trust you on that."

You scoffed. "Brave."

He glanced at you, a small, amused smirk curling on his lips. "I trust you. And I don’t trust much, y’know." His eyes lingered on you for a second longer than they should’ve, a deliberate but unspoken acknowledgment of your presence. It made you feel strangely exposed.

You cleared your throat, trying to shake the feeling. You needed to get your shopping done and leave. This wasn’t a movie. No one was going to make a dramatic move and sweep you off your feet with a frozen pizza.

"Well, good luck with that one," you said. "Hope you don’t regret it."

He only smiled and nodded, turning back to the freezer like he’d already moved on. But then, as if pulled by some invisible string, he looked back at you.

And for a moment, the air seemed to thicken.

"You got a favorite?"

You furrowed your brow, raising an eyebrow at him. "A favorite what?"

"Frozen pizza." His voice was casual, but the way he said it made it sound like there was more to the question. Like he was looking for something, an answer he might not get from anyone else.

You tilted your head, considering him carefully. A stranger. A random guy who had no reason to linger in your life.

You were done with people. Done with getting close.

But you still answered. "I like the pepperoni. Classic." You let out a breath, turning back to the shelves, pretending not to notice the slight flutter in your chest. "Why? You need some tips?"

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and inviting. It seemed so natural—like he had done this thousands of times. Like it wasn’t strange for a guy to stand in the frozen food aisle and ask a stranger for advice on frozen pizzas.

"I could use all the tips I can get." He leaned casually against the freezer, watching you with an unreadable look in his eyes. His posture was loose, easygoing, as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

It was disarming.

And familiar.

You shook your head, trying to push the unsettling thought away.

Before you could say anything else, though, he held out his hand.

"Toji," he said.

It was strange how normal it felt—this sudden introduction, this seemingly innocent exchange of names. You had half a mind to ignore him, to walk away before you did something you might regret.

But before you could stop yourself, your fingers were reaching for his hand, and the moment your palm met his, you felt that wrongness again, but in a different way. It wasn’t like danger—it was like something important.

"Y/n," you said, surprised at how steady your voice sounded despite the odd flutter in your chest.

"Nice to meet you, Y/n." His grip was warm. Strong. He didn’t let go right away, his thumb gently brushing across the back of your hand.

You felt a strange pulse of energy pass through you, like something had shifted between you both. You pulled your hand back, forcing a smile.

"Well, nice to meet you, Toji. But I’ve got stuff to do, so…"

"Sure," he said, nodding, "of course." But his voice held that hint of challenge, like he knew you wouldn’t walk away yet.

And for some reason, you didn’t.

You just stood there, facing him, wondering why your heart was racing, and why—

You were starting to feel like maybe normalcy was overrated.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

A/n: I am making a story about toji...i don't think i've seen anyone else do it...if they have...shout out to them

[serotonins-stuff]

He will describe the dirty dream he had about you in detail. With no shame, he'll describe how he felt, what he could smell, feel and see in such explicit detail. He'll tell you about how your soft and sweet pussy rolled sensually against his face. Back and forth, your juices coating his tongue. How the grip he had on your plush thighs was harsh as he pulled your sweetness further into his face.

He couldn't stop talking about the dream, to the point where it created very vivid images in your mind and you couldn't help it.

Soon you made his dream come true and found yourself sitting on his face, moaning and whimpering while he recited the dream under you.

"What happens- ne-next?" You hiccupped, core clenching with every roll of his tongue.

"Then I bent you over" he panted, maneuvering you off his face and coming up behind you. You were on your knees so he took the liberty of pushing your shoulders until you were down on all fours. "And fucked you till you couldn't walk"

GOJO, Toji ,HANMA , Ran, Baji, Kazutora Karma, Bakugo, Kirishima, ATSUMU, Nishinoya, Hinata, Levi, , Reo

[wellnoe]

there are many people who like toji incorrectly but i like him correctly by which i mean he’s super funny and also SO good at causing interesting problems

[nelselfships]

First ship art of Nel and Toji ♡

[waloeders]

tfw ur a curse and the guy you accidentally helped resurrect keeps dodging your attempts to send him back to the grave*

*not included: the person whos body ur borrowing seems to like him and its getting really annoying

does he know about roombas. guys. does toji know what a roomba is. i dont think they existed in 09 😭 i dont think he knows???

okay serious lore. um this is my other jjk s/i eamonn!! he's separate from timeless + cyclical's verse and is heavily an isekai. his name is ryder but hes the vessel of eamonn, a special grade curse with the technique known as "strings" - its pretty vague, not super "brute force" powerful but it has a lot of applications, even more so in the modern day!

so at shibuya, eamonn does accidentally fully resurrect toji while trying to help ryder + friends (hes trying to be besties with them since they share a body, mixed reactions so far) and connects their lives / "fate strings" as he calls them. aka when one gets hurt, so does the other.

however hes really mad about it. and keeps either threatening or out right trying to kill toji, despite knowing this would kill both him + ryder too. nobody said he was the smartest okay! 😭 toji totally knows too hes just being silly with it since he knows itd mean all 3 of them dying its... these guys cant just flirt normally at all. good god.

anyway, somewhere in this mess, choso gets wrapped up in the fate strings but. that's art for another day 👉👈

pose is from croxovergoddess on twt!!

and bonus songs for eamonns (s/i) vibe: above my head by polaris / angel eyes by spiritbox / nowhere to go by bad omens

[callme-mag]

I feel they all have something in common but I can't quite define what it would be.

[whimsicallywiddershins]

[tojisprettylittlething]

Chapter Five: A Gun Between Us (barely)

Pairing: Assassin!Toji Fushiguro x Assassin!Reader

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Fighting, Guns, Knives, Blood, Choking, Sexual Tension, Enemies-to-something-worse, Energy, Power Struggles, Psychological Warfare, Power Struggles, Weak Spot Exploitation

Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

chpt. one - chpt. two - chpt. three - chpt. four - chpt. five - chpt. six - chpt. seven - chpt. eight - chpt. nine - chpt. ten - chpt. eleven - chpt. twelve - chpt. thirteen - chpt. fourteen - chpt. fifteen

You knew he saw you.

You felt it—a shift in the air, a pull against the back of your spine like a thread being tugged too hard.

Toji Fushiguro was watching.

Even as you slipped through the crowd, weaving between glittering dresses and expensive suits, you knew. Even as you dipped into the shadows, disappearing into the night like a ghost, you knew.

And yet, you still weren’t fast enough.

The moment your heels hit the alleyway pavement, you felt it—danger curling around your throat like a noose.

Then—

A hand, rough and fast, snatched you by the wrist.

Your back slammed against the brick wall.

Hard.

Air shot from your lungs, sharp and burning, but you had no time to recover because there he was.

Towering. Dark. Eyes cutting through the night like a blade.

Toji.

His hand was still wrapped around your wrist, pressing it against the brick. His other hand, warm and unforgiving, landed on your throat.

He didn’t squeeze.

Not yet.

But the message was clear.

"You shouldn’t have done that," he murmured, voice low, nearly drowned out by the city hum.

You tilted your chin, barely winded. "Done what?"

His grip tightened—not enough to choke, just enough to warn.

Your lips curled. "What’s wrong, Toji? Didn’t like the show?"

His jaw twitched. "Didn’t like the mess."

You laughed. Even with your back against the wall, even with his palm pressing against your throat, you laughed.

"You didn’t like the mess?" you mocked, voice dripping in amusement. "Now that’s funny. You don’t seem like the type to care about a little blood—even though there wasn't any..."

Toji exhaled sharply through his nose. "Depends on whose hands it’s on."

Something flickered in his gaze, something deep and unreadable.

You ignored it.

"You’re not a cop," you murmured. "And you’re sure as hell not a hero." Your lips barely moved. "So tell me, Toji—why do you care?"

Silence.

A charged, razor-sharp silence.

Then—

He slammed you against the brick again.

Once.

Twice.

As if to make a point.

Your head snapped back, pain sparking through your skull, but you still chuckled, breathless, eyes half-lidded.

"You’re pretty when you’re angry," you whispered.

And that was it.

His grip on your throat flexed, his knuckles white. Your lungs burned, but the fire in your veins roared hotter.

So you moved.

Fast.

Your knee shot up—aiming for his ribs. He dodged, but it was enough for you to shove against his chest, slipping from his grip.

You didn’t run.

You fought.

Toji barely had time to recover before you were on him.

A punch—he blocked.

A kick—he caught.

And then—

You pulled your knife.

The silver glinted under the dim alley lights, deadly and beautiful.

Toji’s smirk widened. "Now we’re talking."

Then he moved.

Faster than you expected.

You slashed—he dodged. You struck—he countered.

A game of speed.

A game of skill.

And god, it was a dance—one neither of you wanted to lose.

Then, suddenly—

His hand wrapped around your wrist again.

A twist.

A pull.

The knife clattered against the pavement.

Before you could react, he had you again—this time, spun around, chest pressed against your back.

His breath was hot against your ear. "You’re good."

You smirked. "I’m better."

Then—

You threw your head back, slamming it into his nose.

Toji grunted—a deep, sharp sound of pain—but his grip didn’t loosen.

So you spun again.

This time, your fist landed clean against his jaw.

His head snapped to the side, but instead of anger—

He laughed.

A dark, knowing laugh.

"You’re crazy," he muttered, running his tongue over his teeth.

You grinned. "And you like it."

Another pause.

Another silence.

But this one—

This one was different.

Because in the middle of a dark alley, with adrenaline in your veins and blood on your hands, you realized something.

The gun between you wasn’t the most dangerous thing here.

It was the way he looked at you.

Like he knew you.

Like he wanted you.

Like maybe—just maybe—he wouldn’t mind losing.

But...

The fight should’ve ended by now.

Any other opponent, any other place, and you would’ve already walked away—victorious, alive, and with no loose ends.

But Toji wasn’t just any opponent.

And he sure as hell wasn’t a loose end.

No, he was a problem. A massive, smug, frustrating problem.

Your breathing was heavier now, not out of exhaustion but out of something worse—agitation. He was quick. Too quick. Strong, experienced, impossible to shake.

But so were you.

That was the problem.

Two immovable forces.

Two people who didn’t know how to back down.

Except—

Toji was about to prove otherwise.

He cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders like this was a fucking warm-up. Blood dripped from his lip where you’d split it, but he just wiped it away with the back of his hand, grinning.

"You getting tired, sweetheart?" he taunted, voice dark and amused.

"Not a chance," you spat.

His smirk widened. "Good."

Then he lunged.

Faster than you expected.

Your body barely reacted in time—ducking, dodging, countering. You threw a punch—he caught your wrist. You twisted—he anticipated it.

The momentum shifted.

Suddenly, he wasn’t just fighting.

He was hunting.

You barely had time to think before he struck.

A brutal, devastating hit—aimed not at your body, not at your strength, but at something much worse.

Your weak spot.

And the bastard knew exactly where it was.

Your ribs.

Old injury. Years ago. A mission gone wrong—one that left a fracture that never quite healed right.

You covered it well. Trained harder, masked the discomfort, made sure no one would ever know.

But Toji?

He knew.

You didn’t know how, you didn’t know when he figured it out—but the moment his fist drove into your side, precise and merciless, you realized something terrible.

Toji had been playing with you.

The pain was immediate. Sharp, sickening, paralyzing. Your vision flickered white for half a second, breath ripping from your lungs in a choked gasp.

And he saw it.

Felt it.

Exploited it.

The next thing you knew, your back hit the pavement. Hard.

Toji was above you before you could react, knee pressing into your side—right where he struck.

You bit back a cry.

But he saw that, too.

A low chuckle left his lips, dark and triumphant. "There it is," he murmured.

You hated him.

You hated him because he wasn’t just stronger—he was smarter. Calculated. Vicious in a way that made you want to claw his throat out.

His face hovered inches from yours, breath fanning over your lips. "Go on," he taunted, voice low. "Get up."

You tried.

God, you tried.

But the pain anchored you down, and Toji just watched—like a cat playing with its prey.

"See, sweetheart," he murmured, pressing down just a little harder—just enough to make your nails dig into the pavement. "You might be good."

His lips brushed the shell of your ear.

"But I’m better."

And you—

You knew it.

For the first time, you knew it.

Because Toji Fushiguro had just done the one thing no one had ever done before.

He made you give up.

You weren’t used to this feeling.

This helpless, breathless, burning rage in your chest.

It was humiliating.

You had fought men twice your size. You had taken down warlords, corrupt officials, rival assassins with reputations that made grown men cower. You had survived gunfire, knife wounds, explosions—things that should’ve killed you.

But here you were.

On your back.

Toji fucking Fushiguro above you.

Your ribs screamed under the weight of his knee, every breath an agony you refused to show.

He knew he had you.

And worse—he was enjoying it.

"Nothing to say now?" His voice was all smug amusement, as if he was waiting for you to crack, to finally admit what he already knew.

That he won.

You clenched your jaw so tightly your teeth ached. Every part of you screamed to keep fighting, to shove him off, to rip his fucking throat out with your bare hands.

But you couldn’t.

Not now.

Not like this.

He had you exactly where he wanted, and you fucking hated him for it.

"You’re quiet," he mused, pressing down just a little more—just enough to make your breath stutter. "That’s not like you, sweetheart."

Your nails dug into the pavement, rage simmering, burning, scorching.

And then—

He moved.

Just like that.

The weight lifted.

The pressure eased.

He was getting up.

Sparing you.

You wanted to lunge for him the moment he stepped back, but your ribs screamed in protest, your body betraying you.

Toji towered over you, green eyes gleaming in the dim light, the ghost of a smirk still playing at his lips.

He had you beat.

And now, he was walking away.

Like it was nothing.

Like you were nothing.

"Next time," he said, voice lazy and amused, "try not to be so predictable."

You swallowed every insult, every curse, every furious, hate-filled word that threatened to spill out.

You refused to give him the satisfaction.

Instead, you stayed there, seething, burning, watching as he turned, hands stuffed in his pockets, sauntering off like this was just another night for him.

Like you weren’t even worth finishing off.

It was worse than defeat.

It was dismissal.

It was indifference.

And you—

You fucking hated him.

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