Oh, doll.

Toji groans as he wakes, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue and a dull throbbing in his head. You finally made your move, hm?

He blinks as his eyes adjust to the darkness. Still in his bedroom—makes sense, you wouldn’t have been able to move him—but his arms are twisted behind him at an angle, bound at the wrists. He gives them a little test tug and almost laughs. God, you’re adorable.

He’s been enjoying this little game; you thought you were subtle with your obsession. Following him, taking photos, keeping journals. He reveled in every shred of your twisted attention. Watching, waiting, hoping for you to get bolder and do exactly what you’ve done now.

What you didn’t realize is how much deeper his own twisted desire was for you. How much he let you get away with, just for the sake of toying with you. Always two steps ahead.

A slight rustle catches his attention in the corner, and his eyes snap to you. You’re perfect, as always. Just like in all of the pictures he took of you. The light of savage victory gleams in your eyes, and he can’t fucking wait to snuff it out. Watch that perfect face twist when you see the truth.

“Mm, took you long enough,” he grunts. A sinister grin pulls at his lips as he sits up. The sound of frayed rope snapping is loud in the quiet room, tearing like ribbons with a simple flex of his arms. “I like your little welcoming party. Just one mistake though, dollface.”

He stands slowly, towering, every inch screaming danger. His body cages yours against the wall, eyes pinning you in place. He tilts his head, leans closer still, and whispers in your ear.

“Your little crush is nothing compared to how badly I need you.”