TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Allusions to Child Neglect/Abuse, Mentions of Death, Minor Blood/Injury, Age Gap (Reader is early 20s, Toji is late 40s), Emotional Manipulation, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, and Semi-Public Groping.
Toji was late. Again.
It was your own fault for expecting him not to be, honestly. The only days he ever showed up on time were the days you unwisely agreed to meet him at a horse track, or a fighting ring, or anywhere else he could place a bet while you tried in vain to explain the details of you upcoming job. Shiu had warned you, but you had learned the hard way that Toji wasn’t the listening type. Maybe, someday, the lesson would actually sink in.
You shut your eyes, leaning back against the cool concrete. Seconds slipped past, pushing you farther and farther from your ramshackle schedule. You didn’t like being late. You didn’t like putting your rent money on the line for someone who couldn’t be bothered to show up. You didn’t want to like Toji, but that didn’t seem to matter
On your feet, now, nearly tripping over the guitar case at your feet as you passed the narrow width of the alleyway. You could call him. Despite everything, Toji had never missed one of your calls, even if he made texting a waking nightmare. But, calling him would mean you had to hear his voice that much sooner, and as desperate as you were to see him, a small part of you was quietly thankful for every moment you didn’t have to spend in his company. After every well-paying job, you’d luxuriate in the time you spent away from him, savor every day that passed without a looming figure in your peripheral or an overly large hand cupped over yours, pretending you didn’t know how to aim a pistol. That was after you got paid, though. If he was much later, you could kiss this check good—
A hand on your shoulder, a presence immediately behind you. You reached for the handgun tucked into your belt, but your assailant was faster – wrapping a strong arm around your midriff and pinning your arms to the side. You tried to kick out, but you were already being hauled off your feet, dragged against a broad chest as you struggled and thrashed. Your mind flashed to possible threats – a rival bounty hunter, a rouge sorcerer – and then practical solutions, like the knife strapped to your right calf or the case of cursed energy infused ammunition in your left boot. You’d just started to swing your knee up to your chest when, as suddenly as you’d been attacked, you were dropped and the alleyway was filled with a deep, rolling laugh. You blinked, humiliation-tinged rage slowly taking the place of primal fear.
Toji stood above you, terrible and gloating. He looked as tall as the skyscrapers on either side of you, the dark masking every feature of his expression save for that manic, self-satisfied grin. You let your eyes drop to the floor and pushed yourself up, pointedly ignoring the hand he offered to you.
“You’re late,” you grumbled, nearly under your breath. “The target arrived twenty minutes ago.”
“Thought you’d count your sweet ass lucky that I bothered to come at all. ‘specially with the way you talk to me.”
He kicked your guitar case upright, catching the handle haphazardly in one hand and holding it out to you – a peace offering, you figured. You snatched it away from him, slinging it over your shoulder protectively.
“It’s important. I wanted to be on the roof by the time he got to his room, catch him—”
“—with his pants down and his dick in his hand, got it.” He breezed past you, making his way to the locked door at the end of the alleyway. Begrudgingly, you followed after him. “Relax. You know you’re in good hands, right?”
Not right. You were prepared to tell him as much, too, but then he glanced over his shoulder and you were swallowing your tongue, suddenly only capable of staring pointedly at the ground. You hated what he did to you, forcing you to be so deeply, painfully aware that you were a very new player in a very old game. You hated how he made you feel, like you were just a puppy biting at the ankles of a mountain lion. You hated how you sounded around him – all whining and chirping, too childish to be respectable. You hated what he made you into.
You hated him.
Not that it mattered. In the end, you said the same thing you always did – nothing. Toji paused, cocking his head to the side. “Right, princess?”
A grimace, a stilted nod. It was a meager sacrifice, but it satisfied the beast. He marched on without another word.
You had planned to pick the lock, but Toji shattered the deadbolt with the heel of his foot. He shrugged past the door, and you followed after him, a lesser shadow fixed to the soles of something greater.
Work was quick with Toji, efficient. You’d seen him enjoy himself, watched him gut self-righteous sorcerers like the mindless cattle they were, but that wasn’t his usual motif. You stuck to back-halls and service corridors, disabling security cameras as you went. He communicated through glances and grunts, and you did what you could not to say anything at all. You avoided employees, but had you run into one, they would’ve been dispatched. Witnesses were a mess neither of you had the patience to clean up. You could deal with the guilt on a full stomach.
Finally, you slipped through an emergency exit and onto the roof. The line of sight from the west ledge was ideal, aligned perfectly with the penthouse of the hotel next-door. Toji scoped it out while you threw down your guitar case, unlatching it to reveal a perfectly calibrated, perfectly maintained sniper rifle just waiting to be put to use. It was your prized possession, your baby. You didn’t hold onto much, but you’d cling to your gun ‘till the day you died.
You pieced your weapon together while Toji gave you the run down.
“Lights are on but no one’s home. Saw him and a civilian head into the shower a few minutes ago – we’d be better off waiting them out.”
“And the windows?”
“Warded, but not bullet proof. They weren’t expecting us.”
They never were. The only things sorcerers cared about were invisible monsters and the profits they could earn from slaughtering them. Threats like you and Toji didn’t make the radar.
You shook a few specialized bullets out of your carrying case – nothing fancy, but engraved with just the right runes to break through any base-level spiritual protections. When your rifle was loaded and your jaw let, you laid on your stomach, propped your barrel on the ledge, and waited.
Toji was right – you’d be here for a while. The bedsheets were disheveled, the bathroom door ajar and steam pouring through the empty gap. You kept your finger on the trigger and your scope trained on the doorway. If this took more than fifteen minutes, you’d trade out with Toji for five so you could rest your eyes. You hoped it wouldn’t, though. You liked being able to deal the killing blow.
So concentrated on your target, you didn’t notice Toji behind you until you felt something bulky settle between your legs, his hands coming to rest on the backs of your calves. You winced, but stayed focused. This was nothing new. Toji liked to fuck with you. He’d get bored and leave you alone, eventually.
You counted out a minute, then another. Toji’s hands drifted, finding your ass. It was only when he started to knead that you snapped over your shoulder, glaring. “I’m trying to work.”
“Don’t let me stop you.” His tone dripped with something thick and sweet. “I’m just enjoying the view.”
Grimacing, you turned back to your scope, hoping your disinterest would be enough to shake him off. If he’d been in a kinder mood, it might’ve.
He wasn’t feeling very kind tonight, though.
“I like you.” He said it like a compliment, like praise. Calloused fingertips bit into the plush of your ass, then found higher ground, bracing around your hips. “Didn’t think I would. When Shiu told me I’d be training one of his newbies, I told him to shove it.”
He’d already told you this story. Sometimes, he mentioned changing his mind after seeing a picture of you or planning to leave a bullet in your head the first time you were paired together. Tonight, he was merciful enough to spare you the details.
“The whole ‘young and hungry’ thing really won me over. I’ve always had a soft spot for strays. Guess it comes with age.” Your hold tightened around the grip. A light flickered in the sorcerer's hotel room. “The pretty face helps, too. Love the way you look at me – all pouty and doe-eyed. Like I’m gonna take a bite out of you.”
He leaned over you, his crotch pressing into your ass. You could feel the outline of something stiff, something hot, and his right hand slipped underneath you, cupping your cunt through your jeans. You nearly pulled the trigger on reflex.
“Careful, there. I won’t be as nice if I have to clean up your mess.” He ground the heel of his palm against your clit. Rather than shutting your eyes, or kicking, or running, you poured yourself into your rifle. Toji wasn’t serious. Whatever he was saying wasn’t serious. All that mattered was you, the bullets in your chamber, and where you were going to aim them.
Not that Toji was easy to ignore. When you failed to react, he applied more pressure, lowered his head so that you could feel his breath against the nape of your neck. Your body felt too warm, too rigid. You needed him to stop touching you. You needed to be somewhere else – on a different rooftop, in a different city. You needed your target to come out so you could shoot something and be done with this.
“Eyes forward, mind off,” he muttered, voice nearly muffled by the proximity. “Just like I taught you.”
Two broad fingers pushed underneath your waistband. You heard your own voice before you realized you were talking.
“Please don’t.”
Toji pulled back. “One more time, dollface?”
“Please don’t.” You dug your nails into unforgiving plastic, gritting your teeth. The words seemed to scrape and claw at your throat, urging you to spit them out, to avoid disappointing your senior without cause. You wouldn’t. You couldn’t. You’d sooner die than—
Toji’s thumb toyed with the button of your fly, and you didn’t have a choice.
“I haven’t—” You flinched, swallowed. A hand wrapped around the bathroom doorframe. “I haven’t done this, before.”
His laugh was throaty and terrible. Slowly, he pulled away, pushing himself back onto his feet. “Too good to lose it on the clock, huh?”
Yes. When it came to Toji, at least.
You focused on the silver linings. He wasn’t touching you, anymore. He’d backed off when you put your foot down (or, you could convince yourself he had, at least). You’d be able to go home and take a shower hot enough to burn the feeling of his hands on your body away. You were fine. Everything was good. You were fine.
And yet, when a figure finally stepped into view, you didn’t check to see who it was before pulling the trigger.
~
You stopped answering Toji’s calls, after that job. You still picked up for Shiu, but you didn’t want to talk to Toji, didn’t want to think about him while life was good and you had cash to burn. You avoided laying on your stomach, or turning your back to strange men whenever you could help it. It took him a couple weeks, but eventually, he got the message. There were a few wonderful days of blessed radio silence, and then, he asked if you wanted something to eat.
An hour later, you were standing outside of a restaurant three tiers above your designated tax bracket, wearing a borrowed cocktail dress and hoping your desperation wouldn’t be too apparent.
He’d booked a private room. It was a business dinner, technically, which meant you choked down double your wait in pork and beef and calamari while Toji and Shiu reminisced on memories made while you were still in grade-school. Toji told you about the day he’d fought Gojo Satoru and beaten him to such a pulp, Japan’s strongest sorcerer had to buy him out of his bounty just to survive the match, and you pretended the story didn’t make your heart beat just a little faster. Shiu ordered sake, and you picked the brand. As you polished off the last of the bottle, Toji gestured for you to come to their side of the booth, and without thinking, you obeyed.
He pulled you into his lap as soon as you’d rounded the table. You should’ve pulled away, but he’d done this kind of thing before – made you sit on his knee while going over reconnaissance for a job, rested his hand on your thigh during a late-night train ride – and the alcohol made it easier not to care. Shiu chuckled as you settled into place, a thick arm barred over your waist to keep you where you were.
You tried to rest your head on his shoulder, but his free hand came up, catching your chin. He pinched your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, earning an annoyed whine from somewhere deep in your throat.
“Pay attention. I was just telling Shiu about our last job.” You grimaced at the thought. Shiu’s expression turned pitying, but Toji went on uninterrupted. “You got a boyfriend yet?”
“…I don’t.” There’d been a few guys off and on, but nothing serious, nothing lasting. Isolation suited you too well to give up so easily.
Toji grinned. “Keep it that way. Me and him – we’re the only men you need in your life.”
“’s not true,” you mumbled, one word ebbing into the next. “Only one of you pays my bills.”
There was a bark of a laugh, a quick kiss pressed into your forehead. “Just say the word. I’ll have you moved into my place by tomorrow morning.”
You tried to picture where Toji might’ve lived, but you’d only just managed to visualize the beer cans and pin-ups when Shiu cleared his thoat, crossing his arms over the table. “Put her down, Fushiguro. She’s had too much.”
“She can decide for herself.” He turned to you, resting his thumb on your bottom lip. “Wanna stick with me, dollface?”
“I want—” Warmth. Locked doors. Open air. Your eyes skirted over the table. “—more meat.”
Another laugh, this one more exasperated than the first. You were deposited unceremoniously onto the seat while Toji got up, either flagging down your waiter or grabbing another drink - you couldn’t be sure. Shiu waited until he was sight before edging closer to you.
“Have you had a chance to think about my offer?” He asked, keeping his voice low. “I’ve got a few smaller jobs coming up. They won’t pay as well, but you’ll be able to work alone.” And then, as if he thought you couldn’t spell it out on your own, “Away from Fushiguro.”
This, you didn’t have to think about. “I told you, I’m—”
“Only interested in the pay-out, I know.” He drummed his fingers impatiently. “He’s been saying the same thing. Like I’m not giving him my best gigs hand over fist.”
His eyes narrowed, and for one awful, everlasting second, you were convinced he was angry with you. You were bad with anger, especially without a gun in your hand. Toji never got angry.
Then he sighed, and it was over as quickly as it started. He wasn’t angry, just exhausted, disappointed. That was fine. Disappointment, you could stand. “Fushiguro’s picking up the check, tonight. Can you guess the last time I saw him foot a bill?”
You shook your head, and Shiu frowned. “When he was paying for his fucking wife.”
Oh.
It was almost impressive, just how quickly your appetite died out. By the time Toji found his way back, a bottle of red wine in one hand and a platter of overly fatty, overly rich meat in the other, you couldn’t fathom feeling anything other than hollow.
Shiu made his exit hastily. With a soft groan, he pushed himself up, already fishing an all-but crushed carton of cigarettes out of his suit pocket. “I’m done for the night. Need a ride, kid?”
You thought about it for longer than you should’ve. You liked Shiu, how quickly he would let your conversation lull into silence when you made it clear you had nothing to say. You liked the stench of second-hand smoke and expensive cologne that clung to him like a second skin. You liked that, for as long as you’d known him, he’d never once touched you. It was a miracle, really. You’d been so desperate for work when you came to him, you would’ve done anything he asked you to.
Toji draped an arm over your shoulders. “Let the poor girl finish her meal. I’ll make sure she gets home safe.”
Shiu raised a brow, sending you a pointed look. Had he asked again, you probably would’ve shrugged Toji off and gone with him. Had he taken you by the wrist and pulled, you probably would’ve done whatever he said.
“…I’m alright,” you offered, leaning into Toji’s shoulder. “He and I should talk about our next job.”
There was a second of hesitation, a tight-lipped frown, but that was the extent of his protest. You would offer to pay for your half after he’d gone, but Toji only waved you off, insisting that you were already well taken care of.
~
Something went wrong.
You couldn’t be sure what. The last few hours of your life were a blur – all light and noise with no shapes or words to make sense of the overstimulation. You were trailing a pink-haired sorcerer, your rifle tucked under your arm and your bullets heavy against your ankle, and then, you were slung over Toji’s shoulder, the back of your head pulsing and every nerve in your body on fire. Time passed in clumps – glimpses of white hair and startlingly blue eyes, your gun being dragged out of your hands, Toji’s panting in your ear as he hauled you halfway across the city. You didn’t fully come-to until your back hit the stiff surface of an old mattress – a mattress that didn’t belong to you.
You jolted up, but Toji was already gone. You found yourself alone in a sparsely decorated bedroom, all blank walls and dim lighting. A collection of paperwork was spread over the unremarkable bedside table – a few folders from old cases, a couple crumpled contracts, and a single polaroid of a teenage boy with messy black hair and two dogs. You picked it up without thinking, the same way you might collect something your target dropped. You were still looking over it when Toji came back, falling onto the edge of the mattress.
He was in bad shape, too. Fresh bruises rotted across his left cheek, and his shirt was missing, replaced by a thin layer of bandage that covered most of his right shoulder. “For your head,” he grunted, holding two white pills up to your lips. You opened your mouth and swallowed without complaint.
“Where’s my gun?”
“In pieces where you dropped it. It was either you or the weaponry.”
Damnit. You wished he’d gone for the gun. There was a good chance that, between the three of you, it had the most value. “Who got us?”
Toji sneered, eyes darting toward the ceiling. “The Gojo kid. Fucking Six Eyes. The brat must’ve been one of his students.”
You felt your heart drop. Satoru.
You never thought you’d see him again, and he’d tried to kill you.
Biting down hard on the inside of your cheek, you forced yourself to think of something else – anything else. You thrust the polaroid into Toji’s chest. “You’re taking solo jobs.”
Toji’s grin was wide, immediate. “There’s nothing to cry about. You know I’m worthless without you.” He glanced at the picture once before setting it down just out of sight. “It’s my son. The Zenin clan took him off my hands a few years ago.” And then, with an airy laugh, “He probably thinks I’m dead.”
You could taste blood, flowing thick and heavy where your teeth had pierced flesh. “They can all rot in hell.”
“That might just be the longest sentence I’ve ever heard you string together,” Toji laughed. “Bad run-in with a Zenin?”
You should’ve nodded and let him believe what he wanted to. You should’ve told him you were fine and dragged yourself back to your own shitty apartment, your own uncomfortable bed. You should’ve kept your mouth shut, and yet, you found your lips parting, your shoulders raising as something inside of you tore own and spilled. “It was the Gojo Clan.”
He hummed, unsurprised. “I know. A distant cousin, right?”
“Usually they’d leave us alone, but Satoru had just started training, and—” You cut yourself off, shaking your head. “They were looking for another miracle case. The ones with little to no cursed energy got it the worst. Put us through hell and left us on the streets as soon as we turned eighteen. There just wasn’t enough to go around for the non-sorcerers to get a share, I guess.”
You felt Toji’s hand on your cheek, then the top of your head, petting gently through your hair. Despite yourself, you leaned into it.
“That’s a long time on your own.”
“Not really.” Your eyes moved to the door, then the windows, charting escape routes. The latter were barred and former had a deadbolt on the wrong side. “Only a couple years.”
“Long enough.” You tried to push yourself to your feet. Toji wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you back down, laughing. “C’mon, princess. We both know you weren’t made to be alone.”
His hand was on your hip, now. You felt the other cupping your cheek, turning your head toward him, and every good, self-preserving fiber of your being screamed for you to get up, to run. The rest when catatonic as Toji kissed you, paralyzed by the stifling warmth of his lips against the numbing frost that seemed to coat your skin. Distantly, you could hear him groan into your mouth, feel his tongue move over your bottom lips, but the sensations were only skin-deep – your body processing information and nothing more. In a way, it reminded you of growing up, the way your tutors used to have you walk across burning coals or starve yourself for days in hopes of provoking a drop of cursed energy, a reaction. It’d never worked. Of course, it’d never worked.
No matter how deep you cut, you just didn’t have anything to bleed.
He was pulling away, now, grinning as his lips fell to your neck, your collarbone. “You look scared,” he muttered, voice deep against your skin. And then, lifting his head, “Was that your first kiss?”
You didn’t say anything. Rather, you pulled back a fist and punched him square in the jaw.
It hit hard, but not hard enough. He let out a barking laugh, and then he was on top of you, wrestling you down to the mattress despite your best attempts to throw him off. He was strong – stronger than you and stronger than Satoru and too strong – and it was all you could do to slam your balled fists into his chest as he straddled your lower stomach, hands slipping underneath your top. Your teeth were grit, but he still made a softened, hushing sound as he worked the ruined material over your head. He could’ve torn through it easily if he’d wanted to, but there was something careful, almost gentleabout the way he undressed you. Your pants removed with the same sense of delicacy, and he settled into the space between your now bare legs. The only thing he rushed was your panties – caught under his ring finger and snapped in the same motion.
He didn’t kiss you again, but it was only because you would’ve bitten through his tongue. Instead, his lips trailed down your chest, pausing to latch onto the curve of your breast. His tongue laved over your nipple before drifting downward, pressing open-mouthed kisses into your midriff, your navel, your stomach. You tried to weigh your options, but that would’ve meant having options in the first place. Your hands were free, but trying to affect Toji was like clawing at a brick wall. You were only going to hurt yourself.
That’s what you told yourself, at least, until his lips sealed around your clit and you acted on reflex, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling. The only reaction you earned was a low grunt, a fist curled around your thigh to hold you steady. His grip flexed as he dipped lower, running the flat of his tongue over your cunt. The feeling, the heat – all of it was alien, prone to making your throat tighten up and something at the pit of your stomach burn. You felt prinks at the corners of your eyes, but few tears and a single, miserable whine wasn’t enough to distract from the feeling of Toji’s tongue trusting into you, spreading you open while the bridge of his nose ground into your clit. Your hips bucked involuntarily, chasing the warmth, the pressure, but that wasn’t right. You needed to get away. You needed to lock yourself up somewhere safe, somewhere quiet. You needed to find someone who could—
“Look at me.” You didn’t realize you’d shut your eyes until you heard his voice, hoarse and reverberating. “Need to see those pretty eyes when I make you cum, dollface.”
You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t. And yet, when his tongue curled inside you, you were gasping for air, burying your nails in his scalp, doing anything and everything you could to hold yourself together while that awful, terrifying pleasure washed over you. The only help Toji offered was his own impatience – pushing himself up and crashing his mouth into yours rather than drawing it out. You weren’t in a place to bite back, anymore.
You were sobbing by the time he lowered you onto your back, forced to watch though water-stained eyes as he freed his cock. It seemed beyond nightmarish to have something that size inside of you, but Toji only cooed as your breath hitched, letting his chest press into yours. “I’m going to take care of you, alright?” His mouth found the shell of your ear, and you felt something blunt and thick slot against you. “Everything going on out there, anyone who’s ever put their hands on you – it doesn’t fucking matter. You’re mine. That’s all you’ve gotta know.”
He pushed into you, and for a second, you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. For a second, you were so small, and so hungry, and so helpless all over again.
Then, Toji’s hand curled around your jaw, pushing your head back and your eyes onto him. “You’re mine,” he repeated, pushing a kiss into the corner of your lips. “Say it for me. You’re mine.”
And the worst part was, you couldn’t pretend it wasn’t true.
Sniffling, you wrapped your arms around his neck, dragging him that much closer. His cock pulsed inside you, but you could ignore that. At least you were full. At least you were warm.
