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Rival!Toji

CW: f!reader, sexual content, light degradation, dubious consent, hate sex, rough sex, swearing, implied size kink, light breath play

18+ minors DNI

You were recently hired for a job, some sort of mission.

The kind that came wrapped in vague instructions, sealed with too much money and not enough answers. You were used to the shady ones by now.

You don’t expect anyone else to be in the room when you arrive. The job was supposed to be solo—clean, easy, your target, your reward.

You’re led into the lounge and your eyes immediately narrow.

you see him

Leaning against the cracked wall, arms crossed, a bored expression on his stupid face like he’s been waiting for hours.

“Toji,” you mutter like a curse.

His eyes slide lazily over to you. “Ah it's you." He smirks "Figures they’d send you too, they must be reallydesperate.” He gives you a pout "Did they let you in the front door, or did you sneak through the vents?"

You grit your teeth and crack a fake smile, "What the hell are you doing here?”

“Same thing as you, sweetheart. Getting paid.” he chuckles

Your contact—a jittery little sorcerer with WAY too many rings and too few teeth—laughs nervously between you.

“Now, now. Don’t be like that. You’re both good at what you do. The client wants the job done right, and that means together." He gives a stern look to both of you.

The silence that follows is thick and toxic.

Toji tilts his head, eyes never leaving yours. “Tch. Working with a sorcerer. Guess even I have to slum it sometimes.”

“You’ve got a lot of nerve talking down to me with a bounty the size of yours,” you snap.

He grins “Touché.”

You want to kiss punch him, but you settle for folding your arms and turning to the contact. “Who’s the target?” You give a bored stare

The man swallows. “High-level cursed spirit disguised as a human. Slippery one. Last seen near the western wards, blending in with civilians. Client wants it done quiet. No explosions, no bodies in the street.”

Toji whistles low. “Sounds boring, this is light work." He gives a cocky grin

You ignore him. “When do we start?”

“Now.”

You both turn at once, speaking over each other

“Don’t get in my way.” You scoff

“Try to keep up.” He laughs

The tension between you sparks.

And just like that, you're stuck with him.

The last man you’d ever choose to work with—dangerous, cocky, impossible.

The worst part?

You always struggle keep up.

And he’s going to love every second of it.

The car ride is unbearable.

Toji’s stretched out in the passenger seat like he owns it, one arm slung behind the headrest, legs spread like a pig.

You’d volunteered to drive just to keep your hands busy. Otherwise, one might end up around his neck, not sure in which way.

He hasn’t stopped talking since you pulled out of the lot.

“You know,” he says, plucking a toothpick from his pocket and sliding it between his teeth, “last time I worked with someone like you, they tapped out halfway through. Started crying about 'ethical dilemmas' or some shit.”

You don’t even glance over. “And yet here you are, still running your mouth. That’s impressive, considering how many people want to break your jaw.”

He laughs, “Damn. Forgot how fun you were.”

Ignoring him, you press harder on the gas.

The city lights blur past, glowing neon smeared across the windshield. You’re headed toward the western ward—half-empty, run-down, crawling with spirits too smart to be seen. "The perfect place for this bitch to hide."

Toji finally sits up a little straighter. “You nervous?” he asks, a little too casual. “You always talk this much when you’re scared?”

There it is.

You shoot him a side-eye. “I don’t need to be nervous. I’m not the one with a death wish.”

He grins. “Could’ve fooled me."

You slam the brakes, hard.

Toji lurches forward with a grunt, catching himself against the dash as the car jerks to a stop in front of a crumbling alleyway lit by a flickering streetlamp. "What the fuck asshole."

You glare at him. “We’re here. Get out.” You slam the car door behind you, boots hitting cracked pavement, slick with rain.

He chuckles under his breath, swinging the door open.

Somewhere in this shitty alley, you can feel the target watching. Waiting.

Toji rolls his shoulders, unbothered. “Let's go."

You step out beside him, ignoring the heat prickling under your skin that comes every time you’re close to him.

The cursed energy in the air pulses faintly, almost hidden—this guy isn't a joke. You scan the street. The sky is dark. Neon signs flicker against the pavement.

“Smell that?” he mutters.

You nod. “Cursed bile and ego. Smells like you.”

He huffs a laugh but doesn’t take the bait.

The cursed spirit makes its move. You both feel it—a spike of cursed energy to the left. You pivot just in time to catch a blur darting down the alleyway, limbs distorting as it moves, flesh rippling with unstable energy.

It looks vaguely human—tall, hunched, with too many joints and a face stretched in a permanent grin.

"Creepy" you laugh, already beginning to chase it

Toji’s right beside you—the two of you run through the alley.

The spirit glances back—and laughs.

It turns the corner. You both follow.

Only to get blasted by a sudden wall of mist. You fall onto your back.

Toji’s there in an instant, cleaving through the cursed appendage with a brutal swing. Blood—if you can even call it that—splashes across the wall in black streaks.

The spirit shrieks and darts. You lunge for it but it slips right through a crack in the alley wall, body melting into mist.

Gone.

"I had it." you pant, catching your breath

Toji curses, wiping blood off his blade with the edge of his shirt. The rain starts to fall harder.

You stagger back a step, chest heaving. Water soaks your hair, your clothes, your mood.

Toji’s already shaking out his hair, water sliding off him.

“This is bullshit,” you mutter, swiping rain from your eyes.

Toji snorts. “You’re the one who let it slip through your fingers.”

You whirl on him. “I was chasing it while you were busy swinging like a drunk .”

He raises a brow, calm as ever. “Still breathing, aren’t you?”

You grit your teeth. “Barely.”

A crack of thunder rolls overhead. Water’s pooling in your boots, your jacket’s clinging to your spine, and the nearest shelter is a dingy little hotel across the street with a flickering red VACANCY sign

No way, that hotel's got "I totally won't be murdered here" written all over it.

“Great,” you grumble. “Five-star accommodations.”

Toji follows your gaze, already heading across the street. “What, you scared of some bedbugs?”

You follow him “ The only thing im scared of is sharing a room with you” you roll your eyes.

He doesn’t slow down. “Better get used to disappointment.”

The lobby’s dead. Peeling wallpaper, a desk that’s seen better days, and a clerk who looks up from his manga just long enough to glance at the two of you and grunt.

“One room left,” the clerk says without looking up. “Queen bed.”

You exhale sharply through your nose, already done. "Are you sure there aren't any better rooms?"

He flips the page of his manga, chews his gum louder. “Unless one of you wants to sleep in the alley with the rats. They usually don’t bite.”

Toji steps up, unfazed. “We’ll take it.”

You shoot him a look.

The clerk finally looks up, eyes flicking between the two of you like he’s seen this setup before. “Sure.” He slides the key across the counter with two fingers and a sarcastic grin. “Please do not to break the headboard. It comes out of my paycheck.”

You open your mouth to argue "Excuse me?"

“Thanks” Toji cuts in, slapping cash down on the desk.

You glare at him.

He gives you that annoying look, “What? You want me to sleep in the hallway?”

“I want you to sleep outside.” You deadpan. You snatch the key from his hand with a scowl. “If you snore, I’ll smother you in your sleep.”

He leans in, close enough you feel his breath. “You’ll have to get in bed with me first.”

You shove the door open and stomp inside. The room smells like mildew and depression. There’s a cracked TV, one sad lamp, and a queen-size bed with sheets that are definitely older than both of you and your grandparents.

Toji closes the door behind you with a soft click.

“Home sweet home,” he says.

You’re already peeling off your jacket, still fuming.

You turn to him. “You’re an idiot. That thing got away because you can’t follow orders, we are supposed to work together."

He raises an eyebrow, stripping off his blood-soaked shirt and wringing it out in the sink. “I don’t follow anyones orders.”

“That much is obvious,” you roll your eyes.

He glances over his shoulder, still grinning. “Didn’t hear you complaining when I saved your ass.”

“I don't need your saving.”

He steps closer, wet hair dripping down his neck, muscles tense under the skin. “Keep talking, princess. You’re cute when you’re angry.” He grins

You scoff, but it comes out shaky.

There’s a pause. It hums, sharp and heavy. The silence stretching between you, the only sound is the constant patter of rain against the window.

You're already pissed about the mission. About how it slipped through your fingers. About the fact that Toji’s standing there, looking way too calm for your liking, you’re about ready to twist his neck.

You slam your soaked jacket on the back of the chair with a grunt.

Toji’s chuckle is low, rough, "What is it sweetheart? Get it off your chest."

“I had it—I, had it, until you barged in and—”

“Hold on- don't flatter yourself,” he cuts you off, stepping into your space, a lazy smile on his face. “It was already gone by the time you decided to "chase" it.”

You push back, your ego too big. “Whatever. You’re a waste of time.”

Toji's grin doesn't fade. He steps even closer, the space between you shrinking until you're breathing the same air.

“You sure about that, baby?” His voice condescending. “From where I’m standing, you look pretty desperate to have me around. Don’t want to admit it, though, hm?”

You bite down on your lip to hold back any retort.

He gets closer, leaning down to murmur in your ear. "You don’t need to say anything, brat,” he purrs, his breath warm against your skin. “I can see it all over your face."

You can feel the rush of heat flood your chest. Your body betrays you as you swallow, clenching your jaw. You’re slapping that grin off his face before you can think.

You're expecting him to hit you, but his reaction is the opposite when he grabs your face and his lips brush against your neck. He looks into your eyes.

Before you know it, his lips are on yours.

It’s far from neat—teeth clashing, his hands grabbing you, pulling you closer. The taste of him is like black licorice, cigarettes and wood.

You push him back, but he's already shoving you toward the bed, the weight of his body following, keeping you pinned beneath him.

“You were talkin’ all that shit, princess, where'd the attitude go?" His voice is gravelly, breathless.

You glare at him, the fire in your belly impossible to ignore. You hate him—but the way he puts you in your place makes you ache.

His hands are everywhere—yanking your shirt over your head—pulling your shorts down, it’s all too fast, too sudden, you’re already burning up, your body responding before you can even think.

"Damn.." he mutters, voice low, rough. His hand drags down your waist, fingers firm, unrelenting. "So sexy" Then lower. He doesn’t ease in—slipping his hand inside your panties and feeling your slick cunt.

“You’re so wet baby,” he growls, fingers sliding through the slick mess between your thighs. “You like this, don’t you? Fuckin’ little slut.”

He presses to your pussy, slow, rough and mean

“This what you’ve been hiding?” he hisses against your cheek. “All that mouth just cover for how desperate you are for me hm?" His thumb circles your clit, relentless. “Dripping like this… fuckin’ pathetic.”

You gasp, breath hitching. Your hands claw at his shirt, hips twitching forward. "S-shhut up'"

He grabs your chin, forces your head up. His grip is strong, fingers pressing in the right places, good enough to sting. He stares down at you, eyes dark.

"O-oh fuck…" you moan out, voice thin, trembling.

You whine as he works you open, quick and rough, his touch sending shocks of heat through you. He’s thorough, deep—fingers curling inside, pushing you closer to the edge. You can't catch your breath.

His eyes lock onto yours as he’s pushing himself between your legs, his lips capturing yours in a wet kiss.

“Fuck your gorgeous,” he growls against your mouth, one hand holding you down while the other works to tear away the last of your clothing. “You wanna take it for me babygirl? Doing so so good for me."

you’re already on fire, every inch of you aching for him.

He pulls back just long enough to look you in the eyes, that same cocky smirk playing on his lips as he positions himself over you. Cock hard against your entrance.

“You ready for this sweetheart?” he asks, his voice dropping an octave.

You barely nod

He grins—slow, crooked, a little unhinged. “Yeah?” he breathes, watching your face twist. "Ima need a little more than that babe."

“Please,” you whisper, breath catching. “I need it!" You cry out

He's thrusting inside, hard, rough, making you gasp, your back arching off the bed as he fills you completely.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “I knew you’d be a fast learner.”

You can barely catch your breath as he sets a punishing pace, each thrust leaving you wanting more. His hands grip your hips, controlling the rhythm, his lips trail over your neck, biting, sucking, marking you up.

“Feel that?” he growls, biting down on your shoulder, fingers pressing into your stomach.

“You’re taking me s' good, sweetheart. Fuckin' perfect.”

You gasp, legs tightening around his waist, but he just laughs—low and cruel—and grabs your thighs, spreading them wider.

He pulls out just to slap your pussy, making you jolt with a ragged cry.

“Oh yeah, you like that? Your pretty little cunt’s beggin’ now.” He slides back in, slow enough to make you feel every inch.

You try to respond, but the only sound that comes out is a choked moan, hands fisting the sheets.

“Can’t even talk anymore, hm?” he taunts, voice drenched with satisfaction. “Already ruined you.”

He flips you over—hands strong, sure, greedy.

You barely have time to gasp before your chest is pressed into the mattress and he’s kneeling behind you, one hand spreading your ass, the other guiding his cock back to your dripping cunt.

His hand sneaks between you again, thumb rubbing harsh circles over your clit.

You can feel him stretch you open all over again, slow just to watch you struggle to take it.

“That’s it,” he pants. “Take it. Knew this pussy could handle it.”

You grip the sheets, face smashing into the pillow, back arching as he fucks you, deep and brutal. You choke out a moan and he grins, cock twitching inside you.

“Cmon baby, I wanna feel you lose it. Cream all over my dick.” His voice goes rougher. “Your tight grip makes me fuckin’ crazy.”

You do—helpless against the pace, against the weight of his body, against the way he uses you but won’t let you fall apart alone.

Your walls start pulsing, you cry out and shake under him, that’s when he loses it too—burying himself deep and groaning.

You barely register the weight of him easing off you until the bed dips beside your shoulder. His palm runs down your spine, slow, grounding. He doesn’t say anything—not at first—but his touch is there, heavy and steady, dragging you back to your body like he owns every inch of it.

“Didn’t break you, did I?” he mutters, voice rough with leftover heat and just a little smug.

You shoot him a half-lidded glare over your shoulder, too wrecked to hold it.

He huffs—amused—and rolls you onto your back, pulling you in. Your body melts into his chest without thinking, even as his fingers trail over your thigh, ghosting where you’re still sore and slick.

“Relax.” His voice is quieter now. Still deep. Still heavy. “You took it so good." You can feel his heartbeat against your cheek.

His hand doesn’t stop moving—up your hip, across your waist. “You hungry?” he asks suddenly. “Thirsty?”

You blink. “I’m… fine.”

He grunts. Reaches for something off the nightstand—a water bottle, maybe—and presses it to your lips. You drink without arguing, throat dry as hell.

When he sets it aside, he leans in again. Nose against your temple. Lips brushing your hair.

“You’re mine now,” he says, softer this time. “Don’t care what you say.

You don’t answer. You don’t have to.

And when he pulls the blanket over you, tucks your body against his, sleep finds you both, —tangled together. Wrapped in something that feels an awful lot like peace.

OH MY GOSSSSHHHH guys i was giggling while making this (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) lmk if you guys want more ^-^ holy 3k words🤨😭

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