Toji Fushiguro stands in the middle of the room, an absolute contradiction to his usual intimidating, ruthless self. He’s wearing a black Playboy Bunny suit. The bodysuit, tight and glossy, stretches over his chiseled frame, outlining every sculpted muscle beneath. The suit is almost comical on him—too clean, too tight for someone who’s always had an aura of raw danger—but somehow, he makes it look… purposeful.

The bunny ears are perched at a sharp angle on his messy, tousled hair, as though they’re defying gravity as much as they are defying the whole situation. A fluffy white tail wiggles slightly at the back of the suit, giving a slight sway to his movements as he steps forward, his boots clicking loudly against the floor. Toji’s dark eyes sweep over you, taking in your stunned reaction, and then, with a knowing smirk, he crosses his arms, the bowtie around his neck slightly crooked, adding to the absurdity of the moment.

"You surprised?” Toji asks, his gaze is focused on you, not even pretending to care about the ridiculousness of the situation. “I wasn’t gonna pussy out.””

It had been a stupid bet that he’d lost and you’d thrown the idea at him drunkenly a couple nights ago — now here he is, clad in a glossy black bunny suit, hugging his hips, his thighs on display, curving over his pecs. Fuck, he looks good. A stupid bet between stupid friends and here you fucking are. With Toji in front of you, clad in a bunny suit, those floppy ears atop his head, his dark eyes magnetising and endless.

Toji steps closer, invading your personal space, eyes never leaving yours, like he’s testing you, waiting for a reaction, waiting for your inevitable teasing or mocking but you’re silent and it’s putting him on edge. “What’s the matter? You gonna keep starin’ or are you gonna say somethin’ huh?