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Toji SMAU - When love was always there
Chapter 7 - Hit First, Ask Later
Summary: You see him again on your first day of college. Fuck. Toji Zenin has been the bane of your existence since your first day of kindergarten. Over the 15 years you’ve had the “pleasure” of knowing him, he’s made it his personal mission to make your life a living hell. From chopping off your hair in kindergarten to pushing you into a pond on your first day of high school, Toji has done it all. You’d always thought he would choose a college far away from you, but as it has always been, fate came to kick your ass. Hard.
warnings: cursing, sexual language, mentions of bullying
an: do we love it? things certainly are getting interesting….
{chapter 6} ; {next}
taglist: @jinxiewritings
The gym is practically empty when you step inside, save for one familiar figure leaning against the mats. Toji’s already there, gym bag at his feet, wrapped hands resting lazily over his broad chest. He looks up when you walk in, and the flat expression on his face makes it very clear he’s unimpressed.
“You’re late,” he says, his voice dry.
You glance at the clock. “I’m two minutes late.”
“Two minutes too long,” he shoots back, pushing off the mats. “What, couldn’t decide which outfit screams I’m useless the loudest?”
Your jaw drops. “Excuse me?”
Toji grins—a sharp, taunting curve of his lips. “What? I’m just making sure you’re ready for this. Doubt anyone’ll care what you look like when they’re tryna drag you into a van.”
“You are insufferable,” you mutter, dropping your bag onto the floor with a loud thud.
“And you’re two minutes into wasting my time,” he counters, motioning toward the center mat. “Start stretching, princess. I don’t wanna hear you whining when you pull something.”
Gritting your teeth, you sit down to stretch. Toji’s pacing in front of you, all broad strides and sharp glares, like he’s waiting for you to screw up already. “You’re hovering,” you say, annoyed.
“Making sure you don’t keel over mid-warmup.”
You shoot him a glare, but he just smirks and crouches down, watching you. Watching—as if he’s analyzing every movement. It’s both infuriating and unsettling.
“You done pretending you know what you’re doing?” he asks.
You straighten up, brushing your hair from your face. “I’m ready, coach.”
“Good,” Toji says, rising to his full height. “We’ll start with the basics—what to do if someone grabs you.” He steps forward, extending a hand. “I’ll grab your wrist. You try to get free.”
You eye him warily. “And if I can’t?”
“Then congratulations. You’d be kidnapped in five seconds flat.”
“Wow. Very motivating,” you deadpan.
He smirks. “Motivation’s for people who need hand-holding. You’re just here to survive.”
Before you can snap back, Toji grabs your wrist—firm, unyielding, but not enough to hurt. It’s a shock how easily his hand wraps around yours, like your bones could snap with just a flick of his fingers.
“Pull toward the thumb,” he instructs, voice curt. “Not the fingers. Thumb’s the weakest point.”
You yank experimentally, but his grip doesn’t budge. Toji doesn’t look the least bit phased. “You trying or just giving up already?”
“Give me a second!” you snap, tugging harder. You shift your weight and pull back the way he showed you, and to your surprise, his grip gives way.
Toji lets go, tilting his head with something that might be faint approval. “Huh. You’re not completely useless.”
“Oh my god, is that a compliment?”
“Don’t get used to it,” he says flatly, stepping back. “Again.”
You repeat the motion a few more times, each time smoother than the last. Toji keeps his commentary short, but it’s still sharp enough to grate on you.
“Quit overthinking. Your brain’s holding you back more than I am.”
“Don’t pull like you’re scared. You either get free or you don’t.”
“You call that fast? You’d be gone already.”
By the fifth time, you’re sweating and glaring daggers at him. “Do you have to be such a dick about this?”
Toji raises a brow, completely unfazed. “You want me to lie? Pat your head and tell you you’re doing great?”
“You could try not insulting me every five seconds,” you mutter under your breath.
“Where’s the fun in that?” he replies casually, and for the first time, you think you catch something almost playful in his voice.
He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before stepping behind you. “All right. New scenario. Someone grabs you from behind.”
You freeze. “Wait—from behind?”
“Yeah. Like this.”
Before you can react, his arm hooks loosely around your shoulders from behind. It’s not tight—he’s clearly not trying to hurt you—but the closeness throws you off balance. You stiffen, hyper-aware of how warm he feels and how close his voice is when he speaks.
“Relax,” he mutters. “You’re supposed to be learning, not freezing up.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t freeze if you warned me first,” you snap, trying to mask the nervous flutter in your stomach.
Toji huffs a low laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure kidnappers’ll give you a heads-up. Focus. Drop your weight, twist your hips, get out of my grip.”
You try to do what he says, but it’s clumsy—your weight’s off, and you can feel Toji roll his eyes behind you. “You’re not a statue. Move, dammit.”
“I’m trying!”
“Try harder.”
Frustrated, you shift your weight again, twist, and finally pull free, stumbling forward slightly. Toji watches you, arms crossed, expression unreadable. “Took you long enough,” he says, though his tone lacks real bite.
“That’s because you’re built like a damn brick wall,” you mutter, brushing yourself off.
Toji smirks faintly. “And whose fault is that? Yours for being weak, or mine for being me?”
You stare at him, incredulous. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re predictable,” he fires back, turning to grab his water bottle. “Same time next week?”
You blink, surprised that he’s suggesting another session. “You want me to come back?”
Toji looks over his shoulder, a faint smirk on his lips. “You need it.”
“You’re the worst,” you mutter, though you can’t stop the small smile tugging at your mouth.
He shrugs. “Better me than someone who’ll actually hurt you.”
The words linger for a moment, heavier than his usual insults, and you’re not sure what to make of them. But before you can respond, Toji grabs his bag and heads for the door, tossing one last look at you over his shoulder.
“Try not to embarrass yourself next time.”
And just like that, he’s gone, leaving you standing alone on the mat, glaring after him—but this time, your frustration feels different. Because underneath it all, you know he’s right: you will be back next week.
And whether you admit it or not, a small part of you doesn’t mind.
i am unfortunately a sucker for “kissing practice” that escalates to making out with a little too much interest. and escalates. and escalates.
about to “i’ve never done it before, can you teach me?” my way into someone guiding my hips while i bounce on their dick ౨ৎ