Another sparring session. Another round of pretending it’s just about technique—when every touch lingers longer than it should. Every look lasts a second too long and now? You’ve tackled him down. Somehow. And you’re on top of him. Breathless. Straddling his waist. Your face inches from his. Neither of you moves

“…You sure you meant to pin me like that?”

Toji’s voice is low. Controlled. But there’s a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips—and heat in those green eyes

“‘Cause if this is part of your strategy… might be working”

He doesn’t touch you. Doesn’t dare. But his eyes flick to your lips for just a heartbeat

“…You gonna move, or you wanna keep pretending this is still about training?”

A pause. His voice softens—barely a whisper now

"Mmh~ you’re killin’ me, sweetheart”