#dabi x reader college au

[bnhabadass]

nothing will ever be as good to me as a dabi x reader college au. i’ve reread every dabi college au story i’ve come across probably about a dozen times and that includes my own. i just love lazy burnt out stoner college student dabi so much.

[dabisqueen]

College Touya x fem!Reader

⇢ word count: roughly 11K

⇢ plot: getting into one of the most prestigious universities comes with a (literally) huge surprise

⇢ warnings: 18+, minors DNI, childhood friends to enemies to lovers, lots of dialogue, bantering and bickering, use of alcohol, Keigo is being a spoiled rich brat so he's not getting any ass but Tenko is finally getting his d*** wet and Touya as well, a bit of yelling, some kabedon action, steamy kissing, dry-humping, unprotected consensual sex, multiple orgasms, creampie

⇢ personal note: this was just another AU I was dreaming about. First time writing this kind of trope. Thanks to @/dreamy-collective for being my beta!

***

Moving away from home and starting your first year at a university was a challenging act on its own. So it was given that you were busy trying to adapt to the new college life, learning the campus layout, and establishing a daily routine. In other words– beginning to experience life as a university student.

But not only that. The university you had managed to get into was one of the most prestigious ones in the country and with the priciness of its tuition, you were glad to have landed several scholarships that needed extra effort.

Therefore, starting classes not only meant trying to cope with the pretty busy schedule change but also putting in your highest effort to keep your grades among the best. So you barely spent time socializing with people in the tight-knit community of the college campus. And a week into the semester, you still hadn't made any real friends yet, except for your roommate. 

Still, even though you didn't belong to the social circles on campus and you never cared for gossiping, certain rumors spread so far that even you heard them. About these three guys, all seniors belonging to the privileged elite of the university, stirring quite the fuss– especially the raven-haired and the blond one. 

It was the second week and your roommate and you were approaching the main entrance to your college building, ready to go to classes. But you stopped dead in your tracks, an all too familiar sight ahead of you. For a moment you questioned reality, having not seen him in almost a decade. 

"What's he doing here?" You asked, stunned. 

Of all places in the country you had to meet him here. Life has its shitty ways of fucking with you.

"Who?" Your roommate asked, her gaze following yours to some guys standing across the yard by the wall, smoking.

Staring straight ahead, you would've recognized him anywhere– hands lazily stuffed in the pockets of his dark ripped jeans, the usual bored expression on his face. That all too familiar mop of raven hair with bangs falling over his brows, those broad shoulders—

—and those incredibly piercing blue eyes that just now flicked up to look at you.

Shit, you tried to calm yourself, No need to panic. He won't recognize you after all these years.

But that hope was thrown out the door as quickly as it arose when he aimed a wickedly seductive grin right at you, his strikingly blue eyes continuing to observe you.

Damn, he knows.

"Ok, we gotta go. Now!" You swung around and swiveled around your roommate who struggled to catch up with you. "We're gonna take the back entrance."

"Hey, what was that just now?" She breathlessly asked.

"Nothing." You grumbled, reluctant to get as much distance between you and those mesmerizing blue eyes.

"Oh, don't you dare nothing me!" She took a few wider steps to catch up with you. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"You might be right about that," you muttered under your breath. "Let's go, we'll be late for classes."

***

A sound stirred you from your work assignment late at night. "You're not telling me something."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Looking up, you saw your roommate standing at the door of your bedroom.

She cocked an eyebrow, kicked off the door frame, and walked towards you.

"The raven-haired guy. This morning." She continued, "I saw him looking at you– and then you freaked out."

Oh no.

"It's Touya Todoroki." She stopped in front of you, placing her hands on her canted hips, "The hottest guy on campus, according to what I've heard."

"Don't know what you're talking about." You mumbled, the tips of your ears turning scarlet as you kept yourself busy counting the dust specs on the screen of your notebook.

"C'mon! I know you're hiding something," she sat down next to you, batting her pretty, long lashes at you. "You've got to tell me."

Inhaling deeply, you pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to calm your tired and overworked nerves.

"Alright." You sighed. "But this stays between us ok?"

"Pinkie swear!" She beamed at you, offering her smallest finger and you locked it with yours.

"Touya and his buddies Tenko, and Keigo—we used to be childhood friends. We grew up together living in the same neighborhood." You pulled your hand back and tugged a few loose strands of hair behind your ear. "We also went to the same elementary school."

"Aw, that's so cool!" She giggled, urging you to continue. 

"Yeah, really sweet–" you huffed and looked straight at her. "Did you know he calls me Cheeks?"

"No—but that's adorable!" She smiled.

"You know what it stands for?" Cocking a brow you waited.

She shook her head.

"Buttcheeks." You inhaled deeply before continuing. "In second grade, he pulled my pants down in front of everyone - even the teachers. I was the laughingstock of the entire school for weeks."

"Oh sorry," Your roommate was visibly afflicted. "That's not so adorable."

You continued, picking up a few pieces of lint off your pants. "A year later, my parents and I had to move away to another state. That's when I saw him last."

"Mhhh, maybe he was a jerk back then," she pointed out, "But did you ever think about him having changed?"

"Nope. People like him don't change." You added bitterly. "I need to focus on my studies now, ok?"

"Yeah, sure." She sighed.

And with that, you ended the conversation, your roommate straightening up to return to her room and leaving you to finish your essay.

***

As you were leaving your classroom, you stopped dead in your tracks seeing Touya with Keigo and Tenko, leaning his back against the building wall, observing you, hands buried deep in the pocket of his pants. 

Touya just rocked the hottest-guy-on-campus look. Even though his frame was lean, he was well-toned, his body reeking of masculinity. He was wearing a plain black long-sleeve shirt, tight black pants, biker boots, and rings on his hand as well as piercings in his ear. 

But it wasn't just his physique. His presence alone took up space and dominated like nothing else and you had to take a few moments to catch your breath. A few moments that were over too quickly when he started to strut over into your direction, his eyes strikingly light blue.

You instantly turned to make an escape, but at that same moment a door to a lecture room opened and a crowd of students poured out, crushing your plans to get away.

"Well well well, if it ain't Cheeks," an arm slung around your neck. "Of all places, I've never expected to run into you here."

The subtle scent of expensive cologne surrounded you and his own scent, warm and masculine at the same time. He smelled amazing, and it left a feeling in you that you couldn’t place your finger on.

Shit.

"Fuck off, Touya…" you mumbled, a bit of color rising to your face.

"Why so rude?" He chuckled and leaned in closer. 

A group of students had stopped to watch the two of you talk, chattering behind raised hands.

"What are you doing here?" You tried to get away from him but his embrace was too tight. 

"Could ask you the same." He hummed back with a curious grin on his face.

"I'm enrolled in classes, duh." You remarked, trying to keep your tone flat.

"Heh, I'm a Senior." His free hand came to pinch your cheek.

"Did your dad bribe the University Board to get you in?" You looked sideways at him, shamefully breathless at his close proximity. 

His eyes seemed so captivating—more than they used to when he was a kid.

"Naah— got in here myself." He grinned, icy blue eyes flashing. "Excellent grades."

"Doubt it." You hissed at him.

"You're hurting my feelings, Cheeks." He gave you a light chuckle that you felt way too much in your chest.

Rolling your eyes at him, you finally managed to shrug his arm off as he loosened his hold on you—when you heard another voice closing in. "Hey, Touya, who's that Hottie here?"

It was Keigo, narrower and shorter in build than Touya, with windstrewn ash blond hair swept messily backward. He was blatantly showing off his wealth, wearing luxury label clothes, and sporting a huge Breitling aviator watch on his wrist. 

"Don't you recognize her?" Touya glanced at him over his shoulder.

The blonde looked at you with a slight arch in his eyebrow. Then his golden eyes lit up in surprise. "Shit, it's Cheeks!"

"Damn, it is," Tenko muttered, who just joined the three of you. With the long tangled hair and the simple, black hoodie pulled over his head, he seemed more innocent than the other two, which was a welcoming change. The only thing giving him away was the rather geeky expensive Devon Star Wars watch at his wrist.

His cheeks reddened behind his pale bangs when your eyes met and he muttered a shy, "H-Hi Cheeks…" before averting his gaze, awkwardly scratching his nape with his fingers.

Keigo however, stepped even closer, his golden brown eyes mustering you as he leaned in, flirtatiously. "So—you got a boyfriend?"

"Nice move, but– no." You groaned. "Not interested in one as well."

Just as Keigo was about to say something Tenko interrupted, looking at his watch. "Guys, we need to go now if we wanna get to class in time." 

"Yeah, we're coming." Touya looked at you with an amused glint in his azure eyes before turning to leave.

"See ya, Cheeks." He waved goodbye as they strolled off.

You couldn't help but follow him with your eyes, when suddenly Touya stopped to toss you a look over his shoulder, grinning when he caught you staring, before continuing on his path.

Shit, you felt your cheeks burn. Shit, shit, shit.

Your roommate, who had stood off to the side unbeknownst to you now stepped close, letting out a deep sigh, "Sorry, didn't want to interrupt. But damn, are you lucky."

You bit your lips as you continued to watch him. "Jerk. I hate him."

"Oh, are you sure? You blushed there quite a bit, I'd say." She sheepishly added.

"Thin ice, girl." You pursed your lips at her, "Very thin ice."

She only giggled in response.

"I would give everything to be fucked by that guy." She gazed at where he was walking off with Keigo and Tenko. "C'mon, just look at him!"

You leveled her with a flat look and folded your arms under your chest. She sighed. 

"Girl, he's rich!" She wiggled her hand in his direction, "His dad is fucking loaded!"

"I don't care about all that, you know me" you commented nonchalantly.

"But—I heard he's even going to graduate summa cum laude."  Her eyes became dreamy, "If you land with him, you hit the jackpot."

"Oh, s'that so?" You picked up your bag. "You can have him. I'm not interested"

"You should be. I heard he also fucks like a God."

"Good thing I'm an atheist then." You winked at her and turned to walk away, trying to ignore the wet stickiness in your panties that wasn't there before.

***

The following weeks were absolute torment. Even though Touya was a senior and the paths you crossed were rare, he was constantly around, repeatedly seeking you out in the crowd, his little naughty grins always catching you off guard and making your face heat up. He was smooth, you had to admit, and surprisingly persistent– despite your constant rebuffs.

So it wasn’t long until your name unwantedly became the talk on campus. People were staring at you, muttering behind your back, wondering who that normal girl was that managed to get Touya Todoroki's attention. You weren't used to the looks that everyone was giving you, and felt utterly uncomfortable.

Whenever possible, you avoided large groups of people while on campus. Still, it was unavoidable that some girls' stares always followed you, their whispers behind raised hands a constant backdrop in your head.

It was frustrating, in more ways than one. Because even though you tried to deny it, you started catching yourself having constant thoughts about Touya. And they weren't exactly innocent ones. Whenever you saw him from afar, your chest tightened and your heart thundered a thousand miles a minute. You couldn't shrug off this feeling of wanting to be close to him, to hear his sultry voice, and to run your hands through his raven hair. 

Albeit your own feelings – or rather to deny them – you dedicated yourself to your studies for the next few weeks. So it was no surprise that when midterms came around, your relentless studying paid off, walking out of classes with the highest grades of all.

***

It was late spring and a sudden heat wave had hit your area, making everything unbearably sticky and gross. You opted for a midday walk as some sort of a stress reliever when you heard steps approaching and a familiar voice saying "Hi Cheeks–"

Touya came to a stop right in front of you, dressed in a short sleeve shirt. Intricate black and blue flame tattoos decorated both his arms, complementing his natural looks perfectly. 

After reaching inside the pocket of his jeans, he took a cigarette out of the box he had retrieved, and placed it between his lips. He lit it up, a cloud of smoke billowing up in the air as he exhaled deeply. His smoldering turquoise eyes dragged up your body and stopped at your lips.

"Wanna go eat something, Cheeks?" His gaze continued to linger on your lips.

"Sorry, I think I just lost my appetite." You deadpanned.

"Cmon–" He tilted up his chin, looking at you, smirking.

"Touya, I'm not interested."

"But I'm hungry…" And his eyes flicked back to your lips. 

"Go eat alone then." You mumbled.

Looking up at him, you noticed his rapturous looks, something wicked and flirtatious flickering behind the azure hue of his eyes. Your stomach somersaulted and you knew it was lust in his heavy-lidded eyes when your gazes locked.

"I'm not hungry for food, Cheeks—" his voice was husky, successfully making your spine tingle. 

"Oh for God's sake," you tried to swat his chest but he dodged gracefully, a playful smile on his face, taking another drag of the cigarette he was holding between his fingers.

You couldn't help but stare at his sinfully seductive lips, the way they urged to be kissed—

Okay, let’s not go there, you mentally slapped yourself.

But you were caught already as he observed the way your cheek reddened and cocked his head, eyebrows raised. “Bet you're thinking about me right now, Cheeks.”

"Excuse me?" You lied, the spreading blush reaching your ears, “F-Fuck off Touya!"

You felt like you were seconds away from exploding, with your heart rate blasting through the roof. 

"I think I'm making you nervous." He grinned, 

"God, you're so full of yourself–" you started.

Luckily a high smooth voice interrupted your little bantering. 

"Hey Toto, been looking everywhere for you!" a stunning girl approached.

Touya didn’t even pay a glance as she got close to him, manicured fingers trailing up his arm.

"Missed you, baby" she pouted her plush lips at him, "Why haven't you answered any of my calls?"

Touya sneered, his usual bored expression back on his face, "Should be self-explanatory."

He placed his cigarette between his lips again, sucking in his cheeks, his hooded gaze not leaving yours. 

The girl was stunned by his rude reply but then seemed to brush it off. Moving her face close to his, she purred, “What’s with the attitude, baby?"

"Told you, I have other plans..." Ignoring her completely, his eyes continued to be trained on you as smoke billowed around his face.

Even though he was clearly not interested in that girl, it still left a pinch of bitterness in your heart. You felt disappointed. You'd heard that he had gotten around quite a bit– but seeing the girl just being so much better looking than you made you feel so inferior, so ugly, so—

—you had to get out of here. Now.

"I think you should satisfy your hunger with her," you pointed out and before he could reply, you shouldered your bag and left down the path to the library.

You heard Touya call after you but then the high-pitched voice of the girl interrupted, followed by rough cussing on his behalf before you could get out of earshot.

Serves him right.

***

This irritating, depressing sting of jealousy had been gnawing away at your heart ever since the scene outside with the girl and left you almost sleepless at night. Let's face it, you weren't exactly a virgin anymore either. But your experience had been rather—bleak, to put it nicely. With some random guy. For a whooping ten seconds. Leaving you beyond unsatisfied.

But Touya– he must have been in bed with so many girls, must have gathered so much experience that the thought alone made the bile of jealousy rise in your stomach. And as it was apparent to you, all the girls he had were all pretty and perfect and you couldn't help but feel inferior to them. And you hated yourself for thinking this way.

But that wasn't the only thing keeping your thoughts occupied– no. You couldn't quite shrug off the idea that – even though he served her off, or maybe just because of that – each girl was just a joke for him. As were you.

You had just finished your last lecture for today and, grabbing your iPad from the counter you winced, a stinging pain shooting through the tip of your finger. You pinched it between your thumb and index finger, seeing a splinter stuck in it. You knew you had to wait till later to get it out with tweezers at home.

You sighed as you exited your classroom ready to head outside—when you felt a soft hoodie sleeve slide along your neck as an arm draped around your shoulder, the subtle scent of expensive cologne and cigarette smoke starting to engulf you.

It was familiar, comforting—

—and yet still so unwelcomed.

"There you are, Cheeks, missed ya." Touya's low, sultry voice close to your ear sent instant shivers up your spine. 

Your step faltered and you spun around only for another arm to coil around your waste. Dragging your gaze from his chest up to his face you instantly shrunk beneath the intensity of his stunning blue eyes. Your mouth opened but nothing came out, too struck by how inexcusably handsome he looked up this close.

"That really hurts, huh?" He said with his husky voice, looking down at your finger.

"Let go of me, Touya" you shivered under his touch and tried to shake off his arm.

His eyes never left yours as his hand wrapped around your hurt one, bringing it close to his face. Breathlessly, you watched as he latched his lips around your fingertip and flicked his tongue over the wound before starting to suck.

You inhaled sharply, as a piercing pain shot through your finger, his eyes heavily lidded with lust and desire when you locked gazes.

Shit.

Suddenly, the pain was gone and he released your finger. He stuck out his tongue, the splinter sitting on its tip. He turned his head to spit it away and let go of you, smoothing his hair back. He watched with an amused grin while your cheeks went slowly ablaze.

"D-Don't do that, Touya," you stuttered.

He leaned close, propping himself against the wall next to you. There was that smirk again— the one that made your heart skip a bear. His hand came up to tug a strand of hair behind your ear and his light warm touch had your stomach flutter.

"Don't do what?" He cooed.

"D-Dont touch me." Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. 

Damn.

You hated it. You hated how he made you feel inside, how he made your body react to him. You felt heat rising inside of you again and your resentment towards him increased.

“I'd say you like my touch,” he smirked a bit wider seeing the rosy blush spread on your face. "It's more than obvious."

“You wish,” you retorted, shifting to the side, further away from him.

"And I need to go now, I need to work on my scholarship project." You mumbled as Touya watched on with his lazily lidded eyes.

As you took a step away from him, you felt him hold you back by your arm.

"Wait!" He called out and you stopped, staring straight ahead.

“Listen, Cheeks. I want to apologize,” he sighed, sounding pensive. “You’re busy and here I’ve been, like, keeping you from your work."

Turning around you took him in. He seemed apologetic. And honest.

"I really like spending time with you." He cocked his head, slowly releasing his hold on you. "Why don’t you tell me what the assignment is about so I can make up for distracting you by helping out?"

This was unexpected. His honest expression caught you off guard, and, hesitating for a moment, you told him about your assignment. Not before throwing him a glare–out of mere spite. 

"Well, come to think of it," he mused, "That's a topic I aced last year. I could help out."

Of course, he did, you mentally slapped yourself.

"Ok, here's my offer," his smile became wider. "I'll book a quiet room at the library and help you out."

"Ok, but we only study." You scrunched your nose cutely at him.

"Aw Cheeks, I'm hurt that you think so lowly of me." He chuckled, "Of course, we will only study—promise."

His cerulean eyes were lit up beautifully, bright, with a glint of his usual mischief in them, but also integrity. It brought back memories of when you were kids, of how he used to look at you back then. Full of contentment and—

"Ok," you declared defeat. "Three o'clock. Library. For studying."

He whipped out his phone, asking for your number and typing it down in his contact list.

"Yup, just for studying." Placing his phone in the back pocket of his jeans, he leaned in and pecked your cheek before you could even register his actions. "See ya at three, Cheeks!"

And then he strutted off, hands lazily stuffed in his pockets. As you watched him leave, you noticed the whispers from your classmates as he passed, some eyes even trained on you. It made the heat in your face even more obvious and you quickly turned to walk away.

***

It was half past two and you were sitting at one of the reading tables aligned along the wall in the basement of the library. Touya had texted you that he had successfully booked a room down there. As you were trying to kill time, you were reading in preparation for the meeting. The supportive stone pillars served as dividers in between the tables, yet not as any kind of soundproofing.

At the table adjacent to yours, two girls had been keeping you from studying, irritating you with their endless gossiping. Finally, it sounded like they were gathering their stuff when—

"Have you heard the latest news about Touya?" The first one whispered.

"Spill the beans, bestie!" The other urged.

Oh no, here we go, you thought, clearly annoyed by the fact that every girl seemed to know something about him.

"A girl I know from a party said she slept with him recently." The first one started.

You rolled your eyes. This was the worst conversation to listen to. You tried to focus back on the book, starting to read the first line when—

"You know, she claimed they did it here — in this library."

Oh for Christ's sake, you slammed your hand on the pages. You were close to standing up and leaving. But the desperate urge to want to hear where this was heading took control.

"No way, that's so hot!" The other girl gushed.

"Yeah, can you believe it? She said he invited her for a study session." You heard her shifting in her seat.

You froze, all blood starting to drain from your face.

"What, really?" The other girl's voice was high with excitement. "That's so treacherous. And naughty—"

"He signed up for a quiet room and then they fucked—" there was the sound of fabric rustling as the first one stood up.

You didn't listen any further as all sounds around you started to disappear. The pen you had clutched between your fingers slipped away from your grip, clattering onto the table.

Your heart pounded in your ears and your throat constricted. With your stomach churning and tears starting to form, the world seemed to spin as you slowly rose on your wobbly feet, snatching your belongings.

As you started walking, it felt like gravity had been turned up as every muscle in your body suddenly felt too heavy to move.

God, why did you fall for this…

***

"Please!" 

"No." You scoffed.

"Pretty please?!" Your roommate tried again.

"Still no."

Considering for a second, she continued, "I'll do the dishes for the entire next month."

Contemplating your answers for a second, you exhaled heavily. "Still no." 

She groaned out loud, but then offered with a mischievous smile on her face. "I know secrets about you that I'm not gonna hesitate to spill."

"You wouldn't dare—" You let out a harsh breath, eyes flicking up to meet hers.

"Try me!" She boasted.

You turned your attention back to your studies.

"Ok, dishes and groceries. For a month."

You let out a deep sigh, closing your book with a loud clap. "Fine."

***

So, this is how you ended up at Keigo's birthday bash - organized and hosted by none other than Touya Todoroki. 

You wanted to leave before you had even arrived. Ever since you walked out of that library a week ago, you had successfully avoided Touya and ignored every one of his calls or messages. And now you were here, able to run into him at any minute.

The party had been the talk of campus for quite a while and everyone had taken desperate measures to get their hands on the limited tickets. Even though Tenko teued to convince you to attend, you kept refusing. That was, until your roommate came into your room, fanning her face with two of those most sought-after invitations, courtesy of Tenko, and bribed you into joining her.

The party took place in an opulent suite at the noblest hotel in town, owned by none other than Enji Todoroki, Touya's dad.

Standing against the wall in a corner of the spacious two-story living room area, you took a glimpse around to take in the scene. There was a huge bar and a professional flair bartender currently doing a performance flipping his mixers and bottles, perfectly emphasizing the sleek contemporary furniture.

The entire room was filled with pro lighting effects tailored to the music of a professional DJ playing off to the side. A huge luxury buffet with an assorted arrangement of foods - all masterfully prepared - was placed against the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. It wasn't only a feast for the eye, but also one to spoil the palette.

Your roommate had already excused herself to approach some of the Seniors standing at the bar, leaving you to yourself sipping on your gin & tonic. Sliding your free hand along your dress, you nervously tugged at its hem, trying to pull it down further. Your roommate made you buy it earlier this afternoon and it felt way too short and way too tight for your liking. 

You sighed and stepped towards the well-endowed buffet table when an arm wrapped around your waist from behind and pulled you around.

"Hey, Cheeks!" A voice whispered close to your ear– but it wasn't Touya's. Blond hair tickled your cheek as Keigo dipped his head against the curve of your neck, his warm soft lips grazing your skin.

"Keigo, let me go."

"But you feel so nice." He slurred, a hand starting to wander lower. "And warm."

"Keigo–" You tried to free yourself from his embrace, "Let. Me. Go!"

"Sorry, not happening," holding you with one arm tightly, he quickly chugged a glass filled with whiskey he was holding before placing it carelessly on a catering table nearby.

You tried to push against him but years of being on the Varsity Team had obviously paid off – he didn't budge an inch.

"Lemme kiss you..." He whispered against your neck, tongue dipping out to taste you.

An uncomfortable feeling spread through you, his breath hot against your skin, heavy with the scent of whiskey. 

"Keigo, keep your hands off me–" You kept struggling against his hold as his hand slid down from your waist to your ass. “I swear to God, I’ll punch you."

Just that second you were pried out of Keigo's grip. You lost your footing and stumbled back against a warm body, a strong arm keeping you from falling. Seeing Tenko casually restraining an obviously drunk Keigo, a suspicion arose as to whose arms you were in. As you tilted your head up, a pair of mesmerizing blue eyes glanced down at you, a mischievous glint in them.

Yep. Touya.

"Please don't punch him." Touya chuckled, making sure you had safe footing before releasing you and sending you an apologetic smile. "He's just a bit drunk."

The blond man swayed in Tenko’s embrace, grinning stupidly at you, "Pfff, I'm not drunk! I'm sexy…"

"Well, you better keep restraining me or else I'll punch his pretty face nonetheless…" You growled in return.

"Ha! She said I'm pretty," the Blonde beamed, obviously delighted about your description of him.

"Tenko, please take Keigo over there," Touya nudged his head towards the other side of the room, "I saw a bunch of sorority girls looking for him."

"Yeah Tenko," Keigo's face turned bright and he slurred, "Let's go get some ass!" 

And with that, he raised his fist and stumbled off through the crowd, with Tenko rushing after him but not before rolling his eyes in annoyance.

Trapping your chin between his thumb and index finger, Touya angled your face upward as he raked his eyes over your features. "You're OK there, Cheeks?"

His scent was intoxicating. It numbed your mind and sent heat straight down between your legs. Embarrassingly enough, you noticed how just this subtle gesture of affection had your panties stick wetly to you in an instant.

"Thanks, Touya," you muttered and tried to push past him, trying to get away from him. 

But he was quick to wrap his arm around you, keeping him close to you.

"Nuh-uh, you're staying with me." He grinned, picking up a nearby fresh glass filled with amber liquid from a table. "You keep disappearing on me…"

"Oh, so what—you need me to punch you as well?" You cocked a brow at him.

"Worth the risk." A smugness settled on his face as he took a sip of the amber-colored drink from his glass.

The liquid glistened on his lips and your eyes flicked unconsciously to them before he licked it away. They were the most alluring feature, soft and slightly parted—and again you couldn't help but fantasize how they would feel pressed against yours.

You were quick to avert your gaze again. But an unwanted desire grew in your chest, and you clenched your thighs in an attempt to stop the heat from spreading.

But Touya's mouth quirked suspiciously at the corner, having seen your wandering gaze. 

You took a deep breath to keep your annoyance at bay. "What are you smiling at?"

"Hmmm let me think…" he tipped his head and added with a cheeky expression "You, staring at my lips?"

"No, I wasn't," you braced your hands against his chest in an attempt to free yourself.

Heat bloomed in your cheeks when you felt him, all the firm muscles under his soft shirt, warm and solid, his strong heartbeat pounding against your palm.

Shit.

It stirred something inside you, making you aware of just how attractive he was, how close you were to him, feeling the heat radiating off his body, his sweet breath fanning your face. The blush kept spreading to your ears especially when you noticed something else that was solid as well. And it was pressing against you. 

Just lower.

Your body felt hot all of a sudden and you tried to blame the little alcohol you had consumed so far. But the thought of how his chest would feel, bare underneath your skin, how it would feel to press your lips against it clawed its traitorous way into your brain.

Luckily the train of thought was cut short.

"I'm pretty sure you were staring at my lips," He fought back a grin as he raised an eyebrow. 

Bastard, you cursed inwardly a few times for having been caught red-handed.

"No, I wasn't," you answered, wincing inwardly from sounding so weak.

A pleased sound rumbled deep in his chest. "I think you're lying, Cheeks."

Why is he so infuriating, insufferable and so–

– goddamn attractive.

"Touya, please–" it came out as a mere whisper while you swallowed nervously.

“Please what?” He tilted his head, looking amused. “You don’t have to be shy, you know.”

He was obviously having a blast with your reaction. He has always been like that. One second he was nice and sweet and the next second his blatant cockiness annoyed the hell out of you. 

“I’m not shy.” You tried to defend yourself. "You're just annoying, that's all."

His eyes slowly dropped down to your mouth and you felt it straight in your belly. It took over your senses and clouded any coherent thoughts.

“And you’re pretty." Touya whispered, leaning in further.

“What do you want from me?” You trembled beneath his gaze, suddenly feeling so vulnerable.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Tilting his head to the side, he angled his mouth above yours. “You."

You could feel his warm breath on your lips, the tip of his nose tickling yours. Maybe he did change. Maybe he really was interested in you. So without thinking any further you let your lids flutter shut, parting your lips when–

"Oi Touya!" A guy shouted at him over the noise of the crowd and the music, "Am I interrupting something?"

Your eyes shot open as both turned your heads towards a young man with short auburn hair approaching, wearing a black shirt and white tie.

"'Course you fucking are, dipshit!" Touya growled at him, obviously not happy about the guy's appearance.

The other took you in before asking, wearing a stupid grin on his face. "What happened to the cute blond girl from before? No wait, she was brunette, wasn't she—?"

"Shut it," Touya hissed, loosening his hold on you as he was ready to approach the other man.

Memories of the conversation between the two girls at the library flooded your mind and it churned another feeling inside you— one of betrayal. And suddenly you felt so dumb for thinking that he'd ever change. He would always be the guy who humiliated you and would do it again without thinking. And with that last thought, you dove under Touya's arm to start digging your way through the crowd toward the exit.

There was a loud cuss as your dark-haired admirer picked up the pursuit. But even though he was larger and stronger, you were quite agile, twisting and diving around and under people.

"Cheeks, stop!" Touya called after you.

But you didn't think of it. You almost reached the door when fingers clamped around your wrist and pulled you back.

"Fucking stop running!" Touya glowered at you, his tone aggravated. 

"Let me go!" You dug your fingers under his to try to free yourself from his grip.

"Hell no," he hissed and turned around to drag you up the stairs with him. "We're gonna have a talk."

"I don't want to though." You continued to struggle.

"I don't care, I'm sick of this!" He didn't even look at you as he arrived at the mezzanine floor.

"Touya please, you're hurting me," you whimpered, his grip on your wrist relentless as he kicked open the first door.

Touya shoved you into the room, booting the door shut behind him and you stumbled, catching yourself on the couch. Turning around you visibly paled. Touya stood in the doorframe, you'd never seen such a serious expression on his face. As he started approaching, you backed up, shrinking away under his intense glare.

"Touya, let me go–" Your voice sounded too shaky to be strong.

"No, you're not leaving until we've talked." He answered while approaching.

"You're scaring me—" You stepped further back until your back hit the wall. 

He was taking another stride until his body was directly in front of you, slamming his hands against the wall next to your head, caging you in.

"Touya—" You sniffled, "What's gotten into you?"

The blue of his eyes was dark, pointed sharply at you. 

"You're asking what's gotten into me?" His voice was dangerously low and rumbling. "Should ask you the same! Every time I wanna talk to you, you run away."

You cringed at his harsh words, his mouth pressed to a thin line, its corners angrily twitching.

"I want an explanation" He lifted his hand to slam it against the wall again, giving his words ample support.

"You pulled down my pants!" You yelled at him.

There. You said it. 

His expression turned puzzled, seriously taken aback.

"You're still mad at me for that?" His tone turned more aggravated.

“You ridiculed me!” You glared back at him, feeling your eyes watering up.

"That was ages ago!" He slammed his palm against the wall again. "I was a fucking dumb kid!"

Your bottom lip was trembling when your eyes locked. Frustration and anger clawed their way up your chest and without thinking you blurted out, "And what about the girl you fucked in the silent room? Were you gonna pull the same stunt on me?"

Your entire body was trembling by now, tears sitting heavy at your lash line.

"What the—no! Who told you that bullshit?" By now, he seriously seemed confused.

"It's no bullshit!" You spat back, "Some girls talked about it while I was waiting for you."

"So, that's why you left…" his eyes darkened, "Listen Cheeks, people say a lot of shit about me. If you would've just asked–"

"And what about that blond–" you cleared your throat, trying to suppress a sob, "No, brunette girl earlier on?" 

"Oh for fucks sake!" Touya's anger was palpable by now. "Kai hates me and always makes up shit like this just to get at me."

"I don't believe you." You turned your face sideways to avoid his gaze.

He stared at you in disbelief for a moment, before—

"You don't believe me?" He almost yelled at you. "I've been honest with you the entire time and you have just been so—aaahhh!"

He slammed his palm against the wall again. You flinched at its impact, a single tear freeing itself from your damp eyelashes, making its way down your cheek. Another one quickly followed. You choked on a gasp and noticed you had held your breath. Slowly, you breathed through trembling lips.

A heavy silence settled between you, the only audible sound being his heavy breathing and your silent sobs.

There was a subtle touch to your cheek as a warm hand gently cupped your face, turning it towards him. 

"Look at me," he said, his voice much softer.

You did, your gaze slowly rising to meet Touya's eyes. All anger was gone from his features, another expression instead passing over his face, one that was almost... tender. And affectionate.

His azure eyes took you in, the way you sniffled softly, another tear rolling down your cheek. His thumb brushed the tiny drop of salt water away as he continued gazing at you.

"Never made a girl cry like this before." His voice was low and made your heart pick up a beat, "Except for in my bed underneath me."

You giggled, sniffling, and leaned into his comforting touch. "You're such a dick…"

"I know," he chuckled and shifted forward, subtly eating up the space between you.

You could feel his warm breath fan over your skin. Then his lips ghosted over your cheek, the tip of his tongue dipping out to lick away the salty warmth of a single tear.

"Please forgive me?" He murmured against your skin, moving lower, following the trail of your tears, licking them up, one by one.

It was hard trying to formulate a response with his warm lips on your skin. You tried to say something, tried to push him away but you had forgotten how to speak – how to move.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he breathed and adjusted his direction, going lower, and lower, his tongue flicking out to lick the corner of your mouth.

You sucked in a little breath of surprise and he took the small advantage to move his mouth over yours, dipping his tongue inside.

You let your eyes flutter shut, your entire brain short-circuiting as it hit like a lightning strike. You forgot yourself, forgot everything else except for the tip of his tongue on yours. 

Your mouths started to sensually and slowly work against one another as were your tongues, leaving you lightheaded and knees buckling as you moved your hands up to steady yourself on his hips.

He smelled and tasted like the best thing you've ever tasted, with warm skin, and a hint of smoke. You kept kissing like that, his hand cupping your face, sliding behind your neck, to cup your nape, to angle your face and pull you deeper into the kiss.

You felt his thigh slip between yours, pinning you in place. The unmistakable press of something stiff against your hips caught your attention, making you gasp into his mouth. Goosebumps cascaded up and down your body and you felt each hair stand on end.

With each roll of your tongues, he humped his clothed erection against your core. A small whimper spilled past your mouth and it earned you a quiet hum of approval in response.

You were starting to lose your mind as you continued to intensify the kiss, mouths working against one another. He groaned at the way you ground your hips forward, meeting his in a desperate attempt to feel more of him.

His movements became erratic before he pulled back, panting heavily, eyes dark and hooded with lust.

"Jesus fucking–" his words came out hoarse and breathy.

Then his hands swept along the back of each of your thighs to lift you off the floor and onto his hips.

You squealed his name against his lips as he swung you around and laid you down on the soft sheets of the queen-sized bed in one swift motion, his mouth not once leaving yours.

Fitting himself between your legs, he spread them easily with his body, grinding his pelvis against your clothed heat, making sure you felt just how huge he was and how much he wanted you. 

With each rut, he pressed his throbbing cock directly against your sensitive nub. It had your blood boiling, your core clenching and you canted your hips to meet his, the coil inside of you tightening by the second.

"Touya–" you panted into his mouth, nails digging into his shirt.

It felt better than anything you could've imagined. The pressure in your guts increased, the coil wound tighter and tighter, a white heat starting to blister, and with the next press of his hips against your mound—

“Touya, wait!" you gasped against his mouth, but it was too late.

Your orgasm exploded and had you moan into his mouth, back arching off the soft mattress, pressing your breasts against him.

His movements stalled and he looked at you with a puzzled look on his face.

"Did you just…?" A surprised smirk spread on his face.

You just laid below him, trying to catch your breath, cheeks bright red and lips raw and swollen from the intensive kissing.

"Yes, you did!" His soft chuckle vibrated through you, making you squirm underneath him.

"S-Shut up," you muttered, your hand raising to cover your blushing face.

"I think it's cute." A hand slid into your palm, fingers interlacing with yours as the other rose to brush a piece of hair away from your eyes.

"I'm just sensitive." You tried to explain, your face warming.

"I love that about you," he said, his warm breath fanning against your skin. "No need to apologize."

"You're just messing with me" you murmured, eyelashes fluttering shyly.

"I'd never," you heard him say under his breath.

You both stayed like this for a few more moments, warm bodies pressed against one another. 

Then he asked, tentatively, "So, you want to stop here?"

Carding your fingers through his messy hair you laughed, "You better not--”

He buried his face in your neck and groaned deeply. "God, why do you have to be so perfect—?"

"Trying my hardest," you giggled.

He started nibbling against your pulse, making you writhe underneath him. You could feel him smirking against your skin at your reaction, lips finally brushing yours and you untangled your fingers to pull at his hair. You started kissing, deep and longingly, darting your tongue between his lips to get a better taste of him. He kept kissing you, deep and messy, just pausing to nip at your lips before shoving his tongue in your mouth again.

Without breaking the kiss, you propped yourself up on your elbows. Touya wrapped his arms around you, grabbed the zipper of your dress, and slowly pulled it down to its bottom. Hooking his fingers under your straps, he pulled the dress down over your bare breasts and you helped get your arms out. Leaning back, he gently guided you back onto the mattress. When the dress was at your hips and you lifted them, allowing him to glide it over your butt and off your legs. 

The kiss never broke, eyes closed with lust, until suddenly he straightened up, eagerly taking you in with smoldering turquoise eyes. "Shit, you look more beautiful than I imagined." 

"You imagined—?"

"Oh, you don't know how often I dreamed about you." Tracing his fingers around the curve of your completely exposed breasts, "Ever since I first saw you on campus."

With that he sunk down, latching his warm lips around your erect nipple. You sucked in a breath, a blistering heat shooting right through your body as it ripped a loud moan from your mouth. As he continued, running his tongue over your nipples, alternating between swirls and flicks, you gasped for air. His mouth closed in on one, then the other, sucking and biting lightly, while Touya hummed in approval and continued his ministrations on the other breast. 

When he stopped, you looked up at him. There was so much heat between your legs, and you were dripping wet.

“Can't believe that after all these years I finally have you in bed with me." He breathed out heavily, eyes glazed with lust as he peered at you below him. 

And If it was possible to fuck you with a look, this was it.

You swallowed your breath, heart thrumming loud against your chest. “What are you waiting for then?"

“Atta girl,” he said and hooked his thumb under the hem of your panties, pulling them down and off your legs.

Grabbing your thighs and spreading your legs apart, his breathing became faster, seeing your glistening folds, all that arousal seeping out.

"Cheeks, let's skip the foreplay." His face took on a pained expression as he gulped. "I think I'll bust a nut in my pants if I wait any longer."

Tilting your head, you took in the huge, twitching bulk in his pants, urging to be released. "Y-Yeah, go on, I'm ready."

"Thank God." He growled deep and low, hooking his fingers under his shirt.

Pulling it over his head, he threw it carelessly across the room. When he started unbuttoning his pants, you gasped as you saw a neatly trimmed black happy trail leading up to—

Sitting on his knees he pulled his pants down. 

—his pierced cock. 

Jesus Christ. Figured he was pierced– and went fucking commando.

You realized you were holding your breath when he had his eyes on you, asking with an unexpectedly low voice of his, “Ready?”

You nervously nodded when Touya was settling himself back between your legs.

Grabbing his cock at its base, he positioned it against your shimmering folds, sliding it back and forth over your slick pussy instead of putting it in. Precum mixed with your slick, his gaze transfixed on your face, waiting for approval.

The way you tentatively bit your lips was all he needed.

His cock started pressing hard against your entrance, and after a bit of resistance, the head popped in with a burning stretch.

Simultaneously, the both of you moaned out loud and tried to hold your composure. With gritted teeth, Touya pushed further agonizingly slow, groaning, each piercing slightly resisting before finally slipping in.

You felt split open, so sensitive that you struggled to last as he pushed in further, deeper. When he was finally inserted, you couldn't help but cry out again. It wasn't only the length that was impressive. The thickness and piercings were what got your head spinning. 

“Fuck,” Touya hissed through his teeth, desperation in his voice. His head dropped against your neck, his hand tapping out on the sheets.

"I-I think I need a moment here," he panted against your skin, his stiff cock wildly throbbing inside your pussy, close to painting your insides white with his creamy release.

"Whom are you telling," your breathing was labored, trying your hardest not to cum on the spot. 

"Shit, you're so…" he gulped, "Why are you so fucking tight—?"

"Cause you're huge!" You gasped sharply, clenching even harder down on him.

His breathing was still strained, his face still buried in your neck.

"So, do you need me to distract you?" You wheezed. "Pinch something or maybe—punch you?"

"Don't you dare," he chuckled, playfully biting the skin of your shoulder.

“I would never---” You giggled, close to bursting out into laughter over him.

Noticing the tension inside you slowly subsiding, you placed your warm palm on his back, gently running it up and down his stiff back, hoping he’d finally relax. Feeling the muscles slowly soften under your touch, his nether regions calmed down as well. 

"Ok," he finally breathed, "Ready?" 

You only nodded and he—

Holy shit.

You weren't prepared for this at all. Your hand was clutching onto Touya's shoulder for dear life as he began to slowly pull out. All nerve endings were on fire instantly and one hand darted up to clasp over your mouth. 

It felt amazing, his piercings adding just the right friction, his girth to the heavenly pressure. Touya grunted as he stopped, only the cockhead still buried inside your wet warm walls.

Then without a warning, he leaned his weight onto you, sinking his entire length into your pussy again, all the way to the base. He started a hard and deep pace, knocking the breath out of you.

“Touya—” you hit your head against the headboard from how urgently he thrusted forward.

“Cheeks,” he uttered between heavy breaths as he continued to slide his cock in and out of you. “How the fuck do you feel so good?"

"Y-You tell me—" You moaned.

Placing his hands on your hips and wrapping his fingers under your back he suddenly sat on his knees, lifting your butt off the mattress. Forcefully, he pulled you off the pillows and towards him, onto him, and slung your legs over his shoulders. 

Oh! was the last coherent word that your brain came up with before he started fucking you in earnest now.

Fisting your trembling fingers into the bed sheets, you bit your lower lip at the feeling of the steady push and pull, making you gasp and clench around him harder.

Touya muttered feverishly, “Fuck, you’re so wet,” under his breath, dropping his head out of pleasure. "You're dripping down my balls–"

He leaned closer to you, knees at your arms, chest pressing against your breasts as he kissed your lips while continuing to move his hips. His mouth was warm and wet and eager against your own and you clutched your hands around his nape for stability.

You slowly started losing your composure, struggling to hold back your orgasm. Still, you begged for more, more– and he delivered, thrusting into you deep and raw, faster and much more forceful than before, stimulating that special spot in you, brutal and quick.

And you couldn’t help but sob at how good it felt. Never in your life had you experienced anything like this. He hit all the right places, his piercings adding perfectly to the friction. You felt the coil inside you so close to bursting again.

Oh my god, you were gonna cum again.

You honestly never thought that sex could bring this much pleasure, with it feeling raw and amazing at the same time. Your orgasm hit you like a tsunami, squelching sounds mixed with your incoherent sobbing and his low groans, while Touya's heated gaze drank up the lewd expression on your face as you came.

“Wanna fill you up with –fuck– my fucking cum, Cheeks.” He emphasized each word with a hard thrust, making you moan even harder around his length.

You could barely speak at that point, couldn’t even find the energy to move so he slid his hand between your legs, talented fingers starting to rub your clit. 

His mouth found yours again and he kissed you– hungry and sloppy– muttering under his breath, "Do you want me to fill you up? Do you want my cum inside of you?"

"Oh god, yes." You whimpered breathlessly into his mouth.

He started to give you deeper, harder strokes now. You were close to crying, with it all being too much. Your vision became blurry from all the tears in your eyes and your body trembled, legs shook as his thrusts prolonged the orgasm and unearthed another one right behind it.

It made your eyes roll back and toes curl, losing all control as you felt the tingly feeling begin to unwind in your abdomen. You were a mess below him by then, pleading for him to go faster, harder, voice wracked with sobs of ecstasy.

The pleasure coiled, tighter and tighter. You couldn't hold back anymore, with him sliding in and out of you at this insane speed, his cock pounding into your G-spot with every thrust forward, working you both towards your shared high.

Your cries and the wet, squelching sounds of your messy unity echoed off the walls. You didn't care if people at the party downstairs could hear, too lost in each other's pleasure to think about anything else.

“I–,” he slurred, completely out of control. “I’m gonna cum.”

And then Touya’s head dropped against your shoulder, hot breath coming out in rough pants from the exertion. His eyes rolled back and he shuddered — pounding deep into you, erratic and needy. 

The sight of him being so close to bliss, the feeling of him slamming his dick into you— you couldn't handle it, and it had you falling over the edge again. The tension burst, another intense wave of pleasure racking your body as you gushed around his length. It felt like you shattered into a million pieces and then he pulled you back together again.

With his rhythm becoming sloppy and one last thrust, he came deep inside of you. sharing this moment of all-encompassing pleasure with you. 

You felt Touya toppling on top of you almost immediately, chest rising and falling fast as he tried to pump back some air into his lungs.

“Holy—,” he said, breathing heavily at the juncture of your neck.

"Yeah—" you wheezed, trying to get your heart from racing in your chest.

You both stayed like that, drunk on the endorphins rushing through your system. His hair gently brushed over your skin, his soft lips alternating between nibbling and kissing your skin while you ran your hands across his back.

He eventually got soft inside of you and then slipped out, each piercing slowly popping out. Your combined release gushed out, dripping warm and creamy down your ass and onto the sheets below.

Bit by bit, the muffled sounds of the party came back, filling the room. 

"Sooo—" He glanced at you from under his dark bangs. "Are we good now?"

"Touya…."You scolded, shuddering under the feeling of his warm lips against your neck.

"I love how you say my name." He was nosing your skin, "'Getting hard again."

"Imbecile" - you groaned when you felt his soft cock starting to twitch against your dripping folds again.

He chuckled at that response, rubbing his slender nose into your pulse.

"But since you asked so nicely— I'll think about it," raising your arms you weaved your fingers into his hair, earning you an appreciative hum.

"You're so mean, Cheeks" he cooed, continuing to cover your skin with little kisses.

"Just paying you back for years of torture," your lips curled into a soft, satisfied smile before you turned your head to meet his lips for another passionate kiss.

***

The constant talk of the professor made for a monotonous backdrop. You sighed, looking at the digital clock on your tablet. Still a few more minutes to go before class was over and you could enjoy the rest of the day off.

You paid little to no mind to the professor's words, thinking about the weekend and all that happened. After you spent the night with Touya, you both woke before anyone else. He offered to drive you home, but not without buying you your favorite coffee on the way there. After a goodbye kiss at the door, he drove off. 

To your surprise, your roommate had spent the night with Tenko and apparently would stay at his place. It was a turn you'd never anticipated but were pretty happy about. And– it left you alone in your apartment, having enough time to ponder the endless possibilities of what that night with Touya meant for you, with it occupying your mind more than you anticipated. Because even though you knew he was probably busy with getting the cleanup organized, it still ate away at you that he didn't even call once.

So needless to say, doubts were nagging at you. You weren’t sure what this meant, what his intentions were. There were a million other girls in the world he could have chosen. So many hotter ones, prettier ones. So, were you just a phase, just another girl in the line of all the others he's had?

The pain in your chest rose as you kept thinking about this. And you finally concluded that he had to have teased you, that you were just another trophy on his wall of girls he fucked.

You hated this. You hated feeling like this, these thoughts making the turmoil inside you grow. You covered your face with your palms, feeling your eyes turn hot and your lower lip starting to tremble. 

Luckily, you were ripped from your thoughts by the shuffle of the people in the room and realized that the lecture was over. You took a moment to steady your pulsating heart, sighed, and stuffed your belongings into your bag, standing up and shouldering it. 

As you headed towards the door of the lecture room and stepped outside, you only took a few steps before someone was by your side, slinging an arm around your shoulders, and pulling you close.

Looking up with wide eyes, you saw Touya, effortlessly handsome as always, grinning at you, "Hey, Cheeks, missed ya."

You didn't know what to say, noticing how people stopped in their tracks to stare at the both of you, whispers starting behind raised hands.

"W-What are you doing here, Touya?" Your cheeks blushed as the wetness of your lashes reminded you of your recent doubts.

"I'm here to see my girl." He circled one arm around your waist, rasping, "I'm sorry, but my dad kept me busy yesterday so I couldn't talk much."

"Oh," you replied as his hand slipped behind your nape, pulling you closer.

"I'm gonna make it up to you, ok?" He leaned his forehead against yours, his perfect turquoise eyes glancing right into yours. "Let's spend the rest of the day together."

You only nodded, brain empty, just filled with his scent, his warmth, his low seductive voice in your ears. It made a certain heat rise inside of you again and you clenched your thighs, secretly cursing him for having such an effect on you. 

Then Touya dipped his head down to press his warm lips against yours, not caring about the increasing number of onlookers. All thoughts left your brain when the wet tip of his tongue flicked across your lips, demanding entrance. His hand moved to your cheek to tilt your head so he could kiss you even deeper. With the rasp of his warm tongue against yours, you tangled your fingers in his hair, making him moan into your open mouth. His kiss, his touch, had your stomach in knots within seconds.

When you both pulled away for a brief moment to breathe, he groaned "God, I missed this." 

He tugged you back towards him, his tongue plunging into your mouth. You felt hot all over, your skin tingling in anticipation, as your desire for him built inside of you. He shuddered slightly when you worked your hand under his shirt, not thinking about anything but wanting to touch him, feel him.

Being in his arms again, feeling him so close, felt heavenly. 

You shivered, wetness pooling in your pants again, “Touya—”

"Bro, what the fuck?" An all too familiar voice interrupted over the whispers of the surrounding onlookers. "You kissing in public?"

Touya groaned and broke the kiss, straightening up. "Got a problem with that, dumbass?"

"Maybe," Keigo approached, raking his manicured hand through his blond hair.

Coming to a stop in front of you, Keigo hooked his thumbs into his expensive Gucci jeans as he took both of you in. "So Cheeks, can I have a kiss as well—?"

"No, you fucking can't." He hissed, his arms circling protectively around your figure. "Don't even think about touching her."

"Touya, I'm sure he didn't mean it like that." You tried to intervene.

Touya looked straight ahead at Keigo. "Oh yes, he did."

"Yep Birdie, I would love to have a taste of you…" Keigo winked at you.

You blink twice, taking a moment to process his words.

“Piss off, Keigo." Touya hissed.

But the blond man wasn't phased at all by the threat.

"Why not?” Keigo smirked, ruffling his hair. “Are you, like dating or what? Cause, you never date---”

You froze and averted your eyes, afraid of his answer because you still weren't sure what this meant to him.

“Of course we are,” Touya said, unfazed, drawing you closer to him.

"W-We are?" Your stomach somersaulted, heart rising to your throat at his words.

"Sure Cheeks, what else did you think?" Seeing you with disbelief in your eyes he rolled his eyes at you. "That this was just a one-night stand? You disappoint me—"

"Her reaction doesn't surprise me at all." Keigo's teasing smirk split into a full-blown grin, "Never took you for a relationship type of guy."  

Touya’s head spun around to face his friend.

"Me on the other hand," Keigo mused, grinning suspiciously at you, "I am all for a serious relationship, just saying."

"Shut it, Keigo," Touya growled upon his words, visibly irritated. "She's mine."

Looking at Keigo you noticed the corners of his mouth wobbling suspiciously, as his eyes flicked to yours before focusing back on Touya.

Oh. Ohhh—

You found yourself holding back your giggles, watching the scene now unravel in front of you from a different perspective.

"Well, ok," Keigo wiggled his eyebrows at you, "My offer's still up though."

Touya growled deep and threatening. "Keigo, I'm warning you—"

The blonde shrugged at the threat before continuing with a big mischievous grin. "So, was he any good? Cause I'm much better—"

"You motherfuckin–" Keigo barely dodged Touya's fist and spun around to run off cackling, only for your boyfriend to take after him.

"I'm also much bigger than him!" You heard Keigo yell, followed by Touya's angry howl.

You couldn't help but burst out laughing looking after them running down the hall like two little children. Needless to say, this was the best start to college for you after all.

[mika-writes-fanfics]

Make it up to you

Professor!Touya x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: You're assigned to be the teaching assistant for the new, attractive instructor at your university. His name? Professor Touya. Ever the good student, you hope to maintain a professional relationship with him and stay in good standing, but when he publicly embarrasses you in front of the entire class, all that is thrown out the window. 

Warnings/tags: Colleg AU, quirkless AU, older Touya (coded to be in his 30s), female reader, student/teacher's assistant reader, professor/student relationship, dumbification, fingering, creampie, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (female), public sex, usage of sir, public embarrassment, lots of dirty talking, messy sex 

Author's note: Huge shoutout to @dabisqueen and @history-be-written for being my beta readers and giving me good suggestions. I appreciate you guys sm!!! This fic truly wouldn't have turned out the way it did without you two. 

Word Count: 7.9K

“So,” Your friend turns to you, asking you in piqued interest, “Who’d the department put you with? You know who you’ll be an assistant for yet?”

“Yeah, I was told I’ve been placed with ‘Professor Touya Todoroki’,” you answer. The name is completely unfamiliar to you, though, you’re hoping she has at least heard of him before.

It’s your turn to ask her a question, and you choose to say, “Have you ever had him?”

Much to your dismay, she shakes her head no.

“Nope, never had him,” she replies. You frown slightly at her answer. Turning to  your friend’s roommate, you hope  to find that she has had some sort of interaction with him. 

“What about you? Have you had him before?” You question her. Just like your friend, she shakes her head, much to your disappointment. 

“I haven’t,” shesays. “I don’t even think anyone else has talked about him before either. I’ve never heard his name in my life.”

Damn. 

You were wanting to hear your peers' experience with your soon to be ‘boss’ of sorts, so that you could prepare yourself, but it seems you’re shit out of luck. You’ll just have to go in blind.  

“You know, they hired a new professor this semester. It might just be him,” your friend points out. She smiles at you mischievously before adding, “And rumor has it, he’s hot as fuck.” 

“Ooooh, how lucky. I’m jealous,” your friend’s roommate giggles. You scoff at the reaction. 

“No reason to be. He’s my professor, ‘s not like I can, you know, do anything with him,” you counter. 

You check your phone, seeing that the time to meet the new professor has come. “I gotta head over to his office before his lecture starts. I’ll catch you around.”

“See you later then. Have fun~” your friend farewells in a singsong voice. 

You chuckle at her antics and make your way over to the department building and to his office. When you get there, you stop to peer through the window on his office door, trying to see if he’s inside. Luckily, he’s there, looking down at a paper in his hand, unaware of your presence. 

You notice right away he doesn’t look like the rest of the university staff. He looks quite a bit younger than the rest of the aging faculty. Though, he was still a couple years your senior, in his early thirties at least. What makes him really stand out to you, apart from his piercing cyan eyes and dark, shaggy hair, is the way he dressed. He’s wearing tight black jeans, a form-fitting white button up, an expensive wristwatch, and black Converse. You can’t help but admire his intense, blue eyes as he studies the sheet of paper in his hand, too focused to notice your staring. Your eyes travel the expanse of his face, taking in his features. 

You remember your friend’s words, her little comment echoing in your brain. ‘Rumor has it, he’s hot as fuck,’ you’re reminded. For once, it seems her gossip is true. Even you can’t deny it; Professor Todoroki is very attractive. 

But you won’t act on your feelings, you can’t. You’re supposed to be his assistant after all! And so, with that thought in your mind, you snap yourself out of your daze. You take a deep breath, steeling your nerves and suppressing your desires, before knocking on the door.

He looks up from his papers and glances at you through the window in the door, before beckoning you inside his office. You swing open the door and take a few tentative steps into the room. He quickly looks you up and down, just for a split second, only for his eyes to settle back on your face and look at you expectantly. You hate how his overt glance at your body flusters you and makes you feel hot all over. 

“Excuse me, are you Professor Todoroki?” You ask with a soft voice. 

“Yep, that’d be me. Although, you can just call me Professor Touya. I don’t use my father’s last name,” he explains. His deep, smoky voice worsens your nervousness. The way his voice drawls has butterflies swarming in your stomach. He tosses the papers he was reading off to the side and approaches you, smirking down at you. “But what can I do for you, sweetheart?”

The pet name is something you’re surprised to hear coming from your professor. It borders dangerously on unprofessional, and yet, you find yourself letting it slide. Hearing him say something like that to you sends a wave of heat between your legs. 

Keeping your cool around him is not going to be easy, especially if he keeps calling you that. 

You start by introducing yourself and telling him your name before continuing. “I’m sure the department informed you already, but I’ll be your TA for this next semester,” you start. “I look forward to working with you.”

He hums in response. 

“So you’re my little assistant? Gonna help me with all the long hours grading, hm?” He asks. 

“Yes sir,” you answer. There’s a darker expression that flashes on his face, but it passes just as quickly as it appeared. He narrows his eyes slightly and lazily leans against his desk, supporting his weight using his forearms. Underneath the fabric of his button-up, you can see the muscles of his arms flexing. 

Oh god. 

He’s fucking ripped too. 

“You know, the other faculty told me about you,” he mentions. You can’t help but quirk up at the comment, feeling curious. What did the other teachers say about you? 

“Nothing bad, I hope,” you joke. 

“They all said you were a good student. Never a rule breaker, always professional. Top of your class too, I heard,” he starts. It fills you with a sense of pride and accomplishment, to hear your hard work has gotten you some recognition. You’re practically preening at the praise. And yet, it feels like there’s something else he wants to add. He straightens up and leans off of his desk. The space between you closes as he stands dangerously close to you. 

“But there’s one thing I think they got wrong,” he counters.

You tense up as your mind reels. His voice lowers and he adds, “I’m willing to bet you’re not as good as they say you are.” 

Your brow twitches in annoyance at his bold claim. Just who does he think he is? 

You clench your jaw, biting down the urge to snap back. He’s your superior. You can’t just yell at him and let him have it, not this early in the semester at least. Thus, you settle for tense questioning. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” he insinuates and takes a step back. The distance between the two of you gives you space to breathe, space to fume. “We’ll meet an hour before class to go over the lesson plan. I give a lot of tests over the semester, so come by every afternoon to help with grading.” 

Oh great. 

You’ll be spending most of your week nights with this hot asshole. 

“Understood?” He asks. His cobalt eyes bore into yours as he looks at you expectantly, waiting for your response. 

“Yes sir,” you answer flatly. Despite your lack of enthusiasm, he seems to grin at your agreement. 

“Hm, sir. That’s not something I’m used to hearing from my students,” he teases. There’s a darker look in his eyes that disappears as quickly as you notice it. “Your underclassmen tend to be more… casual around me.”

“And does that bother you?” You ask, suddenly feeling a bit awkward at your apparent odd choice of words. 

“No,” he says, quickly denying it. His voice seems to drop an octave, and he adds, “I prefer it, actually.”

There seems to be something off about the situation, something greater lying behind the surface of his words, but you can’t seem to figure out what greater meaning lies underneath something as simple as an honorific to him. 

The tension is broken after he clears his throat and leans off of the desk upon looking at the clock. “But enough of that,” he starts. “Our first lecture is scheduled to start soon. Let’s start talking about the lesson plan.” 

If there’s one thing you've learned about Professor Touya over the course of the next few weeks, it’s that he’s both fun to talk to yet incredibly strict. He has a penchant for teasing you and the two of you often banter with one another, but despite the growing bond forming between the two of you, he still insists on you calling him sir. 

You suppose he still wants to maintain at least a bit of an aura of professionalism between the two of you. And so, despite how awkward it feels, you continue to address him as such, unaware of the little quirk in his smirk that always follows. 

In speaking with him and sitting in during his lectures, you find yourself being intrinsically drawn to him like a moth to a flame. You reason it’s because you admire his remarkable intelligence, amongst other enigmatic qualities.

He’s driven. Witty. Mysterious. Captivating, even.

With how much he has going for him, it’s no mystery why the university hired him; he’s easily one of the brightest minds in his field, and an engaging professor as well. You could learn from him. 

Yeah. 

That’s all it is. 

You just want to learn from him, is all. 

That’s why you’re gravitating to him.

You don't want to think about him outside of class.

You don’t want to think about the way his attractive smirk gives you butterflies.

You don’t want to think about kissing those soft lips of his as you stare at him speaking.

And you definitely don’t want to think about his fingers descending down your body and touching your aching core. 

You try to avoid thinking about those less than pure daydreams you have about him, both out of self respect for yourself, considering the insulting implication he threw at you during your first meeting, and out of aversion to entertaining lewd ideas about your professor. However, despite this conscious decision, your subconscious has other plans. You find yourself often stealing glances his way, admiring his attractive features, much to your own dismay.

Today is another instance of your subconscious betraying you, and your eyes are now fixated on him, taking in the frustrated scrunch in his brow and tensed shoulders. He abruptly stops setting up the presentation on the computer and walks over towards the windows in the classroom. In an attempt to get respite from the rising heat in the room, he cracks open all the windows. 

“You’d think with the high tuition they’d have enough money to fix this damn AC already,” Professor Touya scoffs. The building’s lack of cool air is a well-known problem, which is why you wore such a thin, short dress today in the first place. It was too damn hot to show up to class wearing much else.

He sighs in annoyance as he unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt and rolls up the sleeves, revealing something that has your breath hitch in your throat.  They start from his wrists and travel up his arms. Shades of purple and blue accent his black ink work, the hues of blue matching his mysterious, cerulean-colored eyes.  From what you’re able to discern, his tattoos go even farther than just his forearms. You wonder just how many he has, and where. The curiosity makes your mind entertain some less than pure ideas, picturing his bare skin and imagining just what kind of ink work he hides underneath his clothes. You try to reign in these fantasies of yours, but you’re too busy drooling over him.

Too busy to even notice that he’s caught you staring. 

He smirks to himself upon seeing you ogling him. His hunch was right, there was something more between the two of you; an unspoken, mutual sexual tension. Though, you seem to be fighting your apparent attraction to him, he could see it in the way you quickly caught yourself and looked away, avoiding looking at him much more at all. He’s hoping he can change that. Maybe he can make you see there’s no shame in it. He’d be more than happy to indulge your naughty fantasies. 

He lazily glances at the clock, seeing how the scheduled lecture will start shortly. It’s then that he remembers something. He leans closer to you and taps the desk, startling you and flustering you with his sudden closeness, and requests, “Hey, I had some handouts for today’s class printed out upstairs. Will you go pick them up for me?”

“Yes sir, I can do that,” you agree. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says. And with that, you leave the class and head to the printing room. Shortly after you leave, a couple students trickle into the room, all belonging to the same close-knit clique of fraternity members. They each take their usual seats and continue to talk amongst themselves freely. Their conversation is painfully loud. He can hear them all the way from the front of the classroom, even though they sit far in the back. 

“Aw man, that hot TA isn’t here today,” one of the frat boys bemoans. “She’s usually around before class.”

“Fucking bummer,” another complains. “Was hoping to get her number.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t mind getting a piece of that,” the other agrees. “She’s a total fucking nerd but I bet she’d be a decent fuck.” They all loudly laugh at that comment and continue making their comments about you. 

He knows their type, and just how it would end for you should you associate with them. Besides the fact that they’re all idiots and that alone would be enough to disappoint you, you would be wasted on them. Those frat boys wouldn’t know what to do with a girl like you. They wouldn’t know how to make you cum. They wouldn’t make you completely dumb with pleasure. There’s just something special about getting a normally smart girl to completely fall apart for him, to give a girl so much pleasure that everything else melts away. And truthfully, he wants to take you there. He wants to see just what it would take to fuck you stupid. He has to know, just how much pleasure does it take to turn your brain to mush.

His desire for you is why these frat boys irk him so much. They casually talk about seducing you into their bed like you’re an easy lay. But the fun that comes with you is the cat and mouse game, the deliberation in your brain between suppressing your attraction towards him and wanting to cave into your own desires. Your little errand couldn’t have come at a better time. He’s glad you’re not here to give them an opportunity to make a move on you, but he can’t keep sending you away before class starts to spare you the misfortune of these idiots making a pass at you. 

No.

He needs to send a little message to the competition. 

And lucky for him, he’s got just the idea. 

More students start filing in as he makes his plans. He has everything thought out, and all that is left is the final piece: you. But shortly before Professor Touya starts the lecture, you make it inside the classroom, papers in hand. You attempt to start passing out the handouts, when he stops you in your tracks. He takes the stack of sheets from your hands and haphazardly tosses them aside.

“I thought they needed that for today?” You ask, thrown off by the apparent change in plans. 

“Nah, we’ll just have them copy the diagram themselves for today. I saw some research that suggested it helps more with memorization. You’ve seen their test grades, the students need all the help they can get,” he lies. You can’t help but genuinely chuckle at his light jab at his own students. As much as you think it’s a waste to discard the handouts– if Professor Touya believes it’ll help the students, you won’t argue with him. 

“Alright, whatever you say, sir,” you laugh. The lecture starts as it normally does and follows the previously discussed lesson plan, until it comes time to show the students the diagram. He turns to you mid-lecture, about to ask you for some sort of assistance. 

“You’ve got better art skills than me. Draw this diagram. Top of page ninety,” Professor Todoroki instructs. He slides over his copy of the textbook, pages turned to a rather complicated figure. It’s far too much information to draw from memory. 

“Sure thing,” you answer. You pick up a marker and uncap it, before holding the textbook in the crook of your arm. You’re about to start copying the figure near the bottom of the board when he interrupts you. 

“Ah, I’m going to write more notes there in a minute. Why don’t you put it over here instead?” He points far up the whiteboard to some blank space tucked in the upper corner. Your stomach sinks at seeing where he wants you to place the diagram. You’re regretting wearing such a short dress today. But still, short dress or not, you have to do this. Maybe… Maybe you can manage it, without flashing the entire class? 

Without much of a choice, you study the diagram, balancing the heavy textbook in one hand while you reach up the whiteboard with a dry-erase marker in hand. You start to stand up on the tips of your toes and you try to aim for a slightly closer area of blank space, all the while your mind is preoccupied with the hem of your skirt. You’re dangerously close to accidentally erasing all of his previous notes, something you’re not too keen on doing given his strictness. 

“Having trouble?” Professor Touya teases, with an amused grin on his face. 

“No, ‘m fine,” you lie. Not that you would admit it to him, but it’s more than just a bit awkward to both hold onto the book and stand up high to draw the figure. 

“Here, let me,” he insists. He comes up behind you, his crotch just barely brushing against your ass. Your breath gets caught in your throat at your body involuntarily stiffens. You internally cringe at how something so simple as a passing touch makes your body feel hot. 

He plucks the textbook from your hands, allowing you a bit more freedom of motion to stand up higher and draw with precision. He sidles up next to you and holds the book open for you. Still, even with his help, it’s still hard to draw exactly where he wants you to. Your dress already feels rather high on your legs as is, you’re sure disaster would happen should you stand up higher. 

“Come on, you’re almost there, just stand up a little more,” he encourages and goads. You almost jolt when you feel a warm hand touch your waist, egging you on to push the envelope just a little further. Not wanting to disobey him, you do as he says, though the regret is instant. The skirt of your dress hikes over your hips and reveals the curve of your ass. A sharp, hushed silence sweeps over the room. Your ears feel like they’re burning and tears are welling up in your eyes at the sheer humiliation you feel in this moment. You draw the figure anyways, albeit carelessly and sloppily. 

You just want this to be over. 

But since your back is turned to the class, you’re completely unaware of the silent exchange happening between Professor Touya and the frat boys in the back row. While you are doing as he asked, ever his obedient assistant, he’s busy glowering at his competition. 

The message is clear. 

You are off limits. 

When the diagram is finally drawn, you straighten back out and place your feet flat on the ground. You should be a bit relieved when your dress finally covers your body once more, but you’re unable to feel that respite. The damage is done, and you’re now left to simmer in your own embarrassment. 

“Is that all you needed from me, sir?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper and thick with emotion. There’s a lump in your throat forming as you fight back the urge to cry. 

“Yeah, that’s all, sweetheart,” he answers, in a manner that’s almost a subtle attempt at soothing you. You let out a shaky, uneven breath. 

“Okay,” you say through a tense sigh. Your voice cracks when you speak once more, “I-I’ll be in your office to… get started on grading.”

You dismiss yourself and nearly rush out of the classroom, all too eager to distance yourself from the source of your shame. Once you’re in the safety of the hallways, you freely let the tears flow down your face. You’re at least thankful the halls are somewhat sparse, meaning that few are able to see you fall apart like this. The last thing you can handle emotionally is someone asking you what happened or if you were okay. Talking about it would just make the humiliation much more real.  

When you finally reach Professor Touya’s office, you close the blinds on his door behind you and prop yourself up against the desk with your hands. You try to recollect yourself, to no avail. Your shame just eats away at you. But at least with his office so far out of the way of all other classes and the blinds drawn down, no one can see you fall apart like this. You can stew in your emotions somewhat privately, at least until Professor Touya gets back. 

Professor Touya.

You want to sneer at the thought of him. The more you think about what happened during the lecture, the more you can’t help but assume he wanted to embarrass you on purpose, like the asshole he is. He enjoys toying with you too much, but this time, he really went too far. You think you’ve been much too cordial with him. When he gets back, you swear you’ll give him a piece of your mind. Fuck professionalism, that was thrown out the window when he forced your hand and caught a peek up your dress. 

Speak of the devil, or rather, think of the devil, and he appears. More time than you thought must have passed while you were smoldering in your feelings, as Professor Touya leisurely strolls into his office, now apparently finished with the lecture. You wipe your tears on the back of your hand, trying to make yourself look a little less weak in front of him and steeling your nerves to tell him off. 

“So what the hell was that about, huh? Why do you get off on being an absolute dick to me? I know you did that shit on purpose,” you accuse. He makes his way over to you and stands in front of you, partially caging you against the desk. The close proximity to him makes you feel hot with what you assume is indignation.

Yeah, that’s what this feeling is.

You despise him.

He doesn’t say anything, instead choosing to let you vent out your frustrations, taking the spite you hurl at him. You’re very much angry at him, filled with so much frustration that your voice is unsteady as you yell, “You’re such a fucking ass. And for what! I did nothing to you, I’ve been nothing but helpful and polite. What could possibly make you want to humiliate me like that? What have I done to make you hate me like this?”

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t hate you,” he soothes. His voice sounds much more husky when he adds, “Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Well I still think you’re an asshole for that little stunt you pulled, even if it wasn’t because you hated me,” you counter, speaking in between breaks in your voice. There’s still tears breaking past your lash line as a consequence of feeling so heated. Your emotions are only further worsened by the confusion you feel. If it wasn’t a malicious attempt to knock you down, why would he do such a thing to you? 

“I know, I know,” he agrees. “How about I make it up to you then?”

“How could you possibly make it up to me?” You question as your voice cracks under the weight of your emotions. You move to wipe your face when he beats you to the punch, brushing away the tears falling down your cheek with his thumb. His hand stays on your face and he tilts your chin to him, angling your face closer to his.  

“Well, I could start by making you feel good, give you something else to think about,” he insinuates. Your breath gets caught in your throat at his implication. “I know you feel it too, this tension between us. I’d love to indulge your fantasies about me, if you’d let me.”

You part your lips, searching for the right words and the strength to reject him, but with his face hovering tantalizingly close to yours, lips mere inches away, you realize you don’t have it in you. 

Fuck. 

You want him so bad. 

“P-please,” you whisper. He has a shit eating grin on his face at your meek and embarrassed begging. 

“What was that? You’ll need to speak up, sweetheart, I can’t hear you,” he teases. You swallow the lump in your throat, and lock eyes with him. 

“Please, make me feel good,” you say again, this time with a little more conviction. 

“Atta girl,” he praises. And with your agreeance, he closes the distance between the two of you and slots his mouth against yours. A gasp escapes you at the feeling of his lips working against your own. Your yearning and daydreaming didn’t prepare you for the intensity of this, for the pure wanting behind every movement of his lips. 

The kiss becomes more and more heated as he presses his body further against yours, leaving little space between the two of you. His tongue dips out from his mouth and runs along the seam of your lips and you part slightly, allowing him the space to slip the wet muscle inside. You find yourself shuddering at the contact and gripping onto the fabric of his button up as a way to tether yourself in this moment. It’s almost a bit embarrassing just how much you’re melting into his touch from something as simple as kissing. Your body is eating it up regardless, sending waves of warmth throughout your entire being and pooling between your legs. 

“Can I touch you?” He asks, after parting from the kiss, his breath fanning over your lips. Although you’ve been dreaming about this moment, and you desperately want to feel his touch all over you, your mind can’t help but chime in; you shouldn’t. 

You really shouldn’t. 

But with his hardening cock pressing up against your stomach and professionalism now abandoned, you throw caution to the wind and give in. You give him a nod and allow his hands to roam over your body. It’s almost dizzying to feel his touch, especially when his hands palm your chest and grope your ass, squeezing the plush flesh in his hands. He dives back in to press his lips up against yours in an intense, crushing kiss once more. You whimper against him, flustered at the feeling of his hot touch over your clothes. You’re becoming drunk on lust just from touches alone. 

Your arousal is heightened as the hands at your ass trail to the front, reaching your hips, before snaking up your dress. His fingers press against your clothed mound. He smirks into the kiss upon feeling the wetness already clinging against the fabric. 

You whine at the loss of friction when his fingers pull back, but the absence of his touch is short-lived. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties and tugs the clothing down your thighs. You part your legs to allow him to completely rid you of them, leaving your cunt now bare before him. You’re glad the blinds on his door are drawn, preventing anyone else from seeing the debauched sight of your panties on the floor in front of your professor. 

The pads of his fingers teasingly trace up your inner thighs, slowly inching bit by bit up your legs and making his way to your aching core. You let out an involuntary gasp when he finally grazes your pussy, his touch now no longer separated by a layer of clothing. 

His fingers run up and down your folds, spreading your juices over yourself and teasingly avoiding sinking into your eager hole. You squirm and jolt every time the tips of his fingers brush against your clit. His warm touch on your engorged bundle of nerves sends jolts of pleasure up your spine. The embarrassment and shame melts away into pure, unadulterated desire with every drag of his fingers over your slit, leaving you wetter and wetter. Your slick coats his fingers as he grazes over your hole. He looks down to see his skin glistening with your wetness, causing him to suck in a breath at the sight. 

Realizing he’s teasing himself by waiting any longer, he decides to give you what you’ve been wanting. Two fingers finally dip inside of your heat, slowly at first. You let out a breathy moan as his digits sink into you. When they bottom out inside of you, you want to squirm at how full you feel with just his fingers alone. They’re the perfect combination of long and thick, stretching out your cunt with ease. 

A sharp inhale escapes you when he slowly pulls out, almost entirely, before pumping back inside of you. He sets an agonizingly slow pace at first as he watches your every reaction, studying what movements and angles have you panting for him. Ever observant, he effortlessly finds your most sensitive spots and hones in on them before quickening his pace. 

Your legs tremble and shake with every harsh thrust of his fingers, bringing you closer and closer to cumming with little effort on his part. He knows just how to curl them up, just how to press the ball of his hand against your clit, just how to get you panting for him. The relentless pumping of his fingers in and out of your hole sends floods of wetness to your core, coating his fingers with your slick. Moans loudly tumble out of your mouth when he slips another into your heat. Though as much as he’s enjoying hearing your slutty moans, he seems distracted. 

He puts his palm over your mouth and leans into your ear. “Shhh, someone’s coming,” he hushes. “Might wanna quiet down unless you want your classmates to barge in and see your pussy full with my fingers.”

You don’t have to see him to know he’s smirking at the comment, feeding off of your apparent embarrassment. The sounds of footsteps and talking nears closer and closer to the door. Knowing your classmates are nearing the door while your legs are obscenely spread for your professor and stuffed full of his thick fingers makes you feel hot with humiliation and overwhelmed with panic, but the pleasure Touya gives you is too much to give up. And so, you bite back your moans in an attempt to stay completely silent. Your body tenses with the risk of getting caught, causing you to clench down even tighter around his fingers. But even though you’re desperately fighting back the urge to whine and wail for him, with very obvious strain, the bastard keeps pumping in and out of you. You just hope the sound of wet squelching isn’t audible through the door.

“I can’t see in, the blinds are closed. Is he not here today?” A student asks, her question partially muffled through Touya’s office door. 

“No, he’s here. My roommate just left his class a while ago,” another student replies. The door knob jiggles as she tries to open the door. You hold your breath, expecting it to swing open and to be caught in the act. 

Only, it never happens. 

The knob refuses to yield to the student’s attempts. She mutters out of frustration, “Damn, must be in a meeting right now. His office is locked.” 

“Huh, I guess we’ll come back tomorrow,” the other classmate shrugs.

You sigh in relief, letting some of the tension dissipate. So long as you’re quiet, you can make it through this without anyone knowing what went on in his office. Still, even that is proving to be a challenge with the way his fingers continue to slam in and out of your pussy. Your knuckles turn white as you grip onto the desk like it’s your lifeline, pouring all your urge to moan into tensing your hands. His half-lidded, cobalt eyes stay trained on your face, seemingly searching for something, while a lazy and smug expression plasters his own face. 

A change in the angle of his fingers sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body and a stifled squeal wrangles past your lips. He snickers at your failed attempts at staying quiet. You instantly feel yourself sweating, either from the anxiety or from quickly racing towards your peak, you’re unable to discern. Hopefully the students didn’t pick up on it.

Much to your horror, one of the students speaks, “Wait, did you hear that?”

“No? What’d you hear?” The other asks in confusion. You cringe, worrying that their curiosity will lead to your social downfall. If they know someone is in there, they’ll demand you answer them. Should that happen, you’re sure Professor Touya will make you answer the door. Not only that, but with the way he’s eating up your embarrassment, you worry he’d make you answer their questions, all the while he still fingers you out of view.

“It was like… a squeak or something,” she explains. 

“Might have been a mouse, this building is super old ya’ know,” the other offers. 

The suspicious student laughs and says in disgust, “Ew, let’s just get the hell out of here. Lab starts in 5 minutes anyways.”

You can’t seem to hear the sound of their footsteps leaving over the sound of your heartbeat in your ears and the wet noises of your cunt gushing around his fingers. Evidently, Touya hears. “They’re gone, sweetheart,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. The feeling of his breath against your ear has you shuddering in response. His hand retracts from your face, no longer muffling your sounds. “Since we’re alone again, why don’t you let me hear those loud, slutty sounds of yours, yeah?” 

He starts to mouth your neck, intermixing his kisses with rougher bites against the delicate skin of your throat, leaving behind blooms of teeth marks and hickeys in his wake. It’s almost as if he wants everyone on campus to talk, like he wants your classmates to know you slept with him; the marks all over your neck damning evidence of your hookup. The sensation of his lips all over you  and the curving of his fingers against that bundle of nerves inside you has you keening for him, whines now freely escaping your mouth. 

“A-ah, feels so good,” you moan with a drawn out voice. He thrusts his fingers in and out of you in earnest, spurred on by your sweet sounds echoing in his office. You let out a choked noise upon feeling him speed up, and your walls clench down on his fingers, sucking them further into your heat. He can tell you’re quickly nearing your peak with the way your pussy flutters around him, contracting wildly.  

He pulls away from your neck and mutters against your skin, his breath fanning over the sensitive flesh, “Yeah, my fingers fucking your cunt feel that good? Gonna come on fingers then?”

The sound of his deep voice spewing such filthy words pushes you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes into you like a harsh wave, stealing your breath away at the impact. You loudly moan as your cunt contracts around his fingers, all the while he continues to pump in and out of you, working you through your release. True to his orders, you gush around him, and your slick freely leaks from your sensitive hole. He finally relents and pulls out of you when you squirm from the overstimulation, attempting to wriggle away from the excessive pleasure. A pleased smirk paints his face upon seeing his fingers glisten with your wetness in the light. The sight gives him an idea, one that goes straight to his cock just at the thought.

“Open up,” he commands. The fingers wet with your juices hover over your lips, waiting for you to follow his demands. You shyly part your lips, allowing his fingers to slip into you. The tang of your own slick touches your tongue and you hold eye contact with him as your mouth closes around his fingers. 

The feeling of your tongue swirling around his digits and the sight of your lips closing around him has his mind racing. He can’t help but think of how your mouth would feel on his cock and how filthy you would look on your knees for him, pretty face nestled against his pelvis and teary doe eyes looking up at him. But he’ll save that for another time.

He needs more than just your mouth right now. 

Once his fingers are sufficiently cleaned off by your tongue, he pulls them out. He surges forward and kisses you, sliding his tongue past your lips. The taste of you still lingers in your mouth. He lewdly moans into the kiss, feeling that much hornier upon sampling your taste. 

“Shit,” he curses against your lips after pulling back. “You taste so good.” He dives back in, passionately kissing you once more and tangling his tongue with yours. “Fuck, sweetheart. I’d bend you over this desk and devour this cunt, but I’m just dying to be inside you.”

“I need it, I want it too. Please, take me,” you beg. Never once did you anticipate you’d be begging for your professor to fuck you in earnest. Never once did you think you’d see the smirk on his face at your lewd pleading. And you certainly didn’t believe you’d ever feel his hands slide under your dress and lift it over you, unclasping your bra along with it, leaving you bare before him. 

He pulls back from you and starts to unbuckle his belt. The sound of the metal clinking in the room makes your ears burn at the lewdness and your pussy clench in anticipation. He frees himself from the confines of his dark jeans, leaving you salivating at the sight of him. 

You want to drool upon seeing how he’s quite thick and long, with prominent veins running along his shaft. You’re then pushed down flush against the top of his desk, splayed over a mess of papers, and he hooks one of your legs over his shoulders. Your breath hitches when he positions his cock in between your folds with his other hand and runs the head up and down your slit, collecting the slick dripping from you and lubing his cock. 

He locks eyes with you as he finally pushes the tip in, relishing in your expression as he slowly slips in, inch by inch. Meanwhile, your full attention is focused on the way his thickness stretches you out and how the veins on his shaft drag against your walls as he sinks into you. You feel a bit breathless when he finally bottoms out and his tip kisses your cervix. 

He starts to pull his hips back until his cock nearly slips out, before pushing back into you and filling you up once more. You feel completely stuffed. True to his words, you can’t think about anything else, the embarrassment you felt frowning more and more distant in your mind and being replaced by sheer, mind numbing pleasure. 

But when he really starts rutting in and out of you? 

Your brain is filled with cotton. He can tell by the way your eyes glaze over and soft moans sound from your parted, panting lips that he’s slowly fucking you stupid. It fills him with a bit of pride to see you being reduced to a brainless, horny mess for him, and the realization goes straight to his cock. 

“T-touya,” you stammer and moan upon feeling his thrusts increase in tempo. You never called him by his first name before, but now that he’s inside of you, it was reasonable for you to believe the two of you are well past formalities. 

“It’s still sir to you,” he growls, correcting your slip up. He punctuates his statement with a hard and deep thrust, making you sharply gasp. His stern voice draws a shudder out of you and you find yourself clenching down on him. 

“‘M sorry, s-sir,” you apologize. You can feel his cock throb in your walls at the honorific. Even through your lust clouded mind, you put the pieces together. 

Oh.

That’s why he liked you calling him sir. 

“Yeah, that’s better,” he breathes. “Like the sound of that out of your mouth more than my name. Keep it up, sweetheart.”

Spurred on by your words, he hooks your other leg over his shoulder, slightly raising you off of the desk and angling his thrusts to hit even deeper inside of you. You grip onto the edges of the table as he fucks into you harder. 

He’s canting into you so deeply and sharply that the desk shakes with every harsh clap of his hips against your thighs. Papers scatter onto the floor, picture frames fall flat on the table top, pens spill out of their holders and clatter onto the ground, all the while he chases one goal: to make you a stupid, incoherent mess from his cock. 

His pace quickens and you bite down on your knuckle in an attempt to muffle your whines and moans, not wanting to fill the entire wing of the building with the sounds of sex. You feel the pleasure rapidly building as he hammers into you, pressing up against that sponges bundle of nerves along your walls. It’s easy to tell he is feeling the same, as more and more deep moans and curses tumble from his lips while he ruts into you. The sound of his voice moaning out for you combined with the angle of his cock pushes you to the verge of orgasming. 

“Hah, fuck. ‘M close. Wanna cum, sir. Please make me cum,” you desperately beg. He throbs at your dumbified state and from the word sir coming out of your mouth. 

Shit, he’s getting close too. 

“Yeah? You gonna make a mess all over these papers then?” He asks, amid pants. He becomes drunk at just the thought of you cumming and dripping all over his cock. It sends a shock wave of pleasure straight between his legs and he rambles on, “Think you can squirt f’me too?” His hips brutally snap into yours, giving you the friction you need to finally be pushed over the edge. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, fuck!” You chant, slurring each of your words in drunken pleasure. You finally fall apart with a silent scream, and just as he was hoping, you gush around him.

“That’s it, cream all over my fucking cock, sweetheart,” he encourages. Strings of your slick cling to his cock and snap with every clap of his pelvis against your skin. He continues to thrust in and out of you, recklessly chasing his own release as you lay below him, now teetering on the edge of overstimulation. 

Your pussy clamping down on him and your walls fluttering finally pushes him over. His hips stutter and he cums with a deep groan, painting your insides white. 

He stills, momentarily keeping his cock nestled in your walls, as he lowers your legs back down against the desk. Slowly, he pulls out of you, glancing down between your legs to see your combined releases leaking out of your hole. He watches, eyes transfixed, as his seed slowly starts seeping out of you and pooling on the sheets below. 

The two of you really did a number on his desk, and his entire office, for that matter. You lay there on the table, dazed and panting, attempting to catch your breath and come back down from your high. He can’t help but smugly chuckle at your dumbified state, before he tucks himself back into his pants. 

“What a mess you’ve made,” he teases. He walks off and heads to the door, about to leave, when he turns over his shoulder and adds, “Make sure to clean up after yourself.” 

You steal a glimpse at the wrecked state of the desk, partially horrified at the wetness pooling between your legs and onto the assignments and handouts. You stare at the wet spots on the sheets of paper. 

Fuck. 

Maybe it’ll dry off. 

You hope so, at least. 

Your face burns when you walk into his classroom the next day. You make eye contact with him as you go to stand near the computer, bringing up the PowerPoint for the lecture. The situation is more than just awkward. 

How do you proceed from here? 

You’re not even sure what to say to him, if you’re supposed to greet him as usual. Your mouth feels dry from nervousness, and you take a drink from your water bottle. A student then walks up to Professor Touya, thankfully taking the heat off of you to speak to him. 

“Professor Touya?” The student starts, preparing to ask him some sort of question. 

“Yes, what is it?” He answers. 

“Did you spill something on my papers?” The student confronts. You choke on your drink as he presents his graded assignment that looks to be partially sullied by water damage, only you and Professor Touya both know- that is definitely not water. 

“Hm, good question. I’m not sure, my TA graded most of these,” he deflects, feigning ignorance. He thinks for a moment, before snapping his fingers and saying, “You know what? Why don’t you ask her? She might know what happened.” 

To your horror, the student takes his suggestion, turning to you and interrogating, “What is this? Is this milk?” 

“Haha, yeah. Milk. It’s just milk,” you force out. You wish you could crawl into a hole and disappear at this moment from the sheer amount of embarrassment you feel. You awkwardly apologize, “Um, sorry about that.” 

“I mean, it’s okay I guess. Accidents happen,” the student shrugs.  

“Alright, if that’s all, we have to set up for today’s lecture. If you’ll excuse us,” Professor Touya intervenes. The student then walks off to take his seat as other students start trickling in. With the student now out of earshot, you confront him. 

“I hate you so much right now,” you say. “That was so embarrassing!” He chuckles at your situation, evidently very entertained by your dismay.

But as much as this circumstance embarrasses you, you can’t help but want more of last night, ruined papers be damned. Feeling bold, you ask, “Make it up to me?”

He gives you a cocky smirk, thrilled to know you want to be fucked dumb yet again. “Sure thing, sweetheart,” he agrees. “I’ll be waiting in my office whenever you want me.”

Tags: @the-milk-anon , @mirayasimpinghard

[stardust-sprinkler]

“Bad boy who’s always good to his girl—”

Is very much how I view Touya in like a College!AU.

* Like he either despises or is apathetic to almost everything. 99.9% of people aren’t worth his time, existing power structures are corrupt and can suck his d!ck, society as a whole is the fucking worst.

* But to you? Devoted. Unashamedly. Just fully ready to flip someone the bird and walk away mid-sentence just because you finally showed up to the party.

* And like who’s gonna be stupid enough to make fun of how head over heels he is for you? Of Todoroki Touya?? Do they have a death wish??

* And we all know Touya has definitely started fights over you—he’s stepping back into the dorm lobby after a smoke break and some dude’s making you uncomfortable while you’re trying to fucking study… Our man is throwing punches first and asking questions second. Must’ve been a freshman, because pretty much everyone on campus knows who you belong to. 🤷🏼

* Touya definitely has your name somewhere in his sprawling tattoos and never fucking dreamed of getting a second helmet for his motorcycle until he met you.

* When he did meet you at a party, he knew within the hour that you were gonna be his. Never before in his life has he had trouble making up his mind, wasn’t gonna start now. Before you left with your friends, he’d told you to be ready for him to pick you up tomorrow night.

* Now, you’ve been dating for a while and he has no qualms about doting on you in public. He’s still stoic and expressionless as hell, but he’ll run his hand through your hair while you’re sitting at the coffee bar or press a soft kiss to your temple when you’re posted up in a corner of the library.

* Someone who had a bone to pick with him was stupid enough to crack a joke about how whipped he must be to act like this just for some pūssy… Touya came back 10 minutes later, courteously using his white shirt to wipe his bloody knuckles clean so he could go back to tracing patterns on your skin with the hand slung over your shoulder.

* As for a stunt that mysteriously never got pinned on anyone— There was one time, you were freaking out about an exam with a huge class % that you somehow forgot to study for. Well, it seems odd that the sprinkler system went off for the whole building for no discernible reason… You never asked him about it, just wrapped your arms around his waist that evening and whispered a quiet “Thank you” into his chest. His response was a noncommittal grunt and a tight squeeze before he pulled you into his room and locked the door for the night.

* He’s always painted his nails blue or black, but now he lets you choose the color and do it for him, while he’s just leaning over the cafeteria table and flipping through a text book.

* At some point, you have a few more drinks than usual at a party and when he wraps his arms around your waist from behind, you try to push him away, saying, “I already have a boyfriend, asshole—” before realizing it’s him and it’s the first time you ever hear him laugh laugh. Fast forward to when you’re back at your dorm, he’s going down on you for a whole hour. You thought that, after one o, he was gonna be done—but when you pushed him back a little to change positions, he swatted your hand away and growled that he wasn’t done eating yet. You’d just been such a good girl for him, knowing who you belonged to. You deserved a reward, of course.

* This man’s always touching you in some capacity—holding your hand, slinging his arm around your waist or over your shoulders, pulling you into his lap every chance he gets.

* You have a surplus of little gifts he gets you just because—knows you like crystals so he’ll just procure one from his pocket once in a while on a day when you’re really stressed. Not that you’ve ever asked him for one, or for the snacks he brings over when you’re finally done with your midterms. Even specialty items. Say you’re into something like dragons or (ironically) certain anime characters. Well, occasionally you’ll find tiny figurines or charm bracelets with them on it, just mysteriously left in your room. Eventually you have little collections and the corner of his lip twitches upward watching you fawn over each new gift (and then over him next).

* Any gallery installation or stage performance or capstone project or thesis defense— This man is sitting silently in the rows, wearing the proudest (albeit very small) smile the whole time.

* In turn, being someone who didn’t get enough attention/affection at home—when you get him something for no reason, or pull him tight to your side during movie night, or card your fingers through his hair with his head on your lap, or embarrassingly whoop and holler just because he got some kind of good news… You can see this man just melt for you. No one else would catch it, but his eyes soften and he huffs out a small sigh that even you can barely hear.

* Even worse, when he’s sure you’re too busy furiously thumbing through a stack of books for a research paper or too wrapped up scouring your annotated essay for errors to notice… he just basks in you. Looks at you like you’ve hung the moon and the stars in the sky. So, you’re always caught off guard when he suddenly swings you over to straddle his lap and buries his face in your neck and stays there. You’re laughing and squirming, trying to get back to—something really important, babe—but he won’t let up and you inevitably have to just let him press languid kisses (and leave a hickey or two) along your collarbone until he’s satisfied. And THEN you can go back to what you were doing. (You make sure never to tell him it helps calm and refocus you. Lose your ability to fake complain about it? Not a chance.)

* He loves it when you play with his earrings or necklaces or rings when you’re curled up on the couch, just chatting. Makes his chest tight for some reason. Feels good. As for you, you love feeling his snakebites and tongue piercing when you kiss him—your brain short-circuits for a second everytime.

* Long story long, the resident bad boy on campus is smitten with you… And the rest of the world can go fuck itself.

(I have so many more College!Touya hcs—lemme know if y’all want some!)

[princesssmars]

more of college rockstars kei and touya. nsfw content included <3

spring break with college rockstar's keigo and touya. its been a few weeks since you all started dating and its just so easy since you were all great friends before. its literally like spending everyday with the two people who get you and do everything in their power to make you happy.

the sex is just an added bonus and god are they horny often. you nearly got kicked out of the campus library when touya was feeling neglected while you were studying and instead of voicing his problem went underneath the table and ate your pussy like he was starving >:/

but other than that its been great! they are incredible boyfriends, treating you like their princess and they are at your beck and call. want some takeout from your favorite place? keigo's ordered all 3 of your favorite dishes. want to go to a campus party but need to study? thankfully touya is ridiculously smart and will tutor you at the speed of light and will escort you to the party himself <3

things are also looking up for their careers, their duo getting way more local gigs and more attention from neighboring counties. and you already know when you have a free night they will take you to a gig and let you listen from backstage. keigo is a sap so yes he will dedicate a song to you. yes touya agrees but tells him to stop being corny. yes after the gig they will be so high on euphoria and adrenaline they'll take you into the dressing room fuck your brains out then take you out for burgers after :D.

after a few weeks of this great streak they get asked to perform for a rock festival in a big city, it lasting most of spring break. you obviously tell them to do it, this being a great step in their career. although you are a bit bummed you'll be missing out and will be seperated during your week of no class.

they obviously look at you like you're crazy and just tell you to pack your things.

the whole way there you're excited, seeming to be even more so than them. the festival organizer was incredibly generous and paid for your first class tickets and hotel room, and you def make the most of it when all three of you order fancy airline snacks. (you might have also, with a crazy amount of stretching, become members of the mile high club but thats neither here nor there.)

the first two days are spent checking out the festival's beginnings, meeting new musicians and people, and touring around the city. they definitely take you out to karaoke bars and every other party you wanna tag along to. but if you wanna stay in the hotel room and just watch rented movies and eat snacks one of them will definitely stay with you. probably kei he's a sucker for wrapping up in fluffy robe and getting cuddly.

the day of their performance is nothing short of amazing. their singing is loud and angry and beautiful and its one of the most exhilarating experiences of your life. throughout it they look at you with the biggest smiles and send you a wink, your heart pounding and you cant help but giggle. when its all over and they've greeted fans and talked about future opportunities they barely manage to drag you back to the hotel before ravishing you.

the next day is calm. you all sleep in late, you and keigo waking up giggly because touya is in between the two of you which he rarely does and hes slightly snoring and drooling and he looks adorable.

after a lazy bit of getting dressed and freshened up you all head to a nice little place for a good breakfast and spend the rest of the day doing some shopping and exploring and laughing and just enjoying being with these two.

[itsshizyne]

Nice Hoodie.

—————

A Tomura Shigaraki x Reader oneshot.

You and Tomura are in a secret relationship. You catch him at his usual spot after an Econ lecture and decide to keep him company.

Tomura shigaraki x fem!reader collage/ University AU Oneshot

No warnings, just fluff. However, there may be small indications of sexual activity.

You saw Tomura sitting down on one of the empty, isolated benches with a small, half eaten croissant in his left hand, and his grey portable computer situated on his lap. It was one of the things he did whenever he was free from any of his lectures or just when he wanted to be alone for the day.

His long, white strands of hair with a tint of blue covering majority of his face resting against the black plastic frame of his glasses. His v neck sweater over his white shirt which covered his small scars he obtained from itching his neck too much whenever he was stressed about an upcoming tests he waited until only the night before to cram for, which he usually ended up getting roughly ninety percent or more on each and every time.

It was one of the things you loved about your boyfriend Tomura. How he just sat there, peacefully. like he didn’t have a single worry in the world.

You on the other hand, couldn’t get a rest. You were so determined to get a first class in economics that you overwhelmed yourself with stress.

Constantly revising, flicking through old notes from previous classes weeks you had an upcoming test with Tomura laughing from the other side of his dormitory, trying to get you to calm down for a moment and just relax beside him.

You both got in on expensive scholarships. However your attitudes were the complete opposites…

You and Tomura have been together for almost a year now. It was his idea to keep the relationship on the low to save the drama from both of your separate friend groups, however there were a few people that knew. Such as his close friend Spinner, and your close friend Himiko, who both accidentally caught you guys in the middle of make out session on multiple occasions.

The rest of them had a small idea that both of you were at least sleeping with each other. But had no sort of concrete evidence to actually prove their claims.

You always snuck out of group society meetings or cheer practice to meet up with Shigaraki, and he’d always ditch his friend group or miss lectures that he didn’t think were worth his time for both of you to have a little quickie in your dorm room, or simply just to hold each other quietly while watching one of his favourite series, Breaking Bad on his mini television while Spinner was out.

Overall your secret relationship was great. Although you’d have to hold your tongue whenever one of the girls on your cheer team would talk about how cute and introverted he was, or Tomura would have to keep a straight face whenever one of his friends would talk about how they’d do anything to have you in their beds.

It was funny for him sometimes, watching guys constantly try to hit on you while you gave them the cold shoulder or told them to fuck off, knowing he had the honours of putting his head between your thighs and you getting on your knees for him every Friday after a long week of boring, stressful Chemistry and Computer Programming lectures.

You loved him, and he loved you. Despite his struggles to express that in ways other than little compliments under his breath and intimacy. But you always managed to show your strong feelings of affection, even in places where he sometimes didn’t want you to.

“Hey stranger.” You smiled before you took a seat beside Shigaraki, playing with the strings of his black hoodie you took from him last week before he walked you back to your dorm at twelve o’clock at night in the cold. After a few minutes, his eyes were off the screen of his computer and onto you.

A small side smirk appeared on his face as he saw you wearing his hoodie over your white shirt, along with the black skirt you brought when he took you out during a shopping spree for a date. It was one of the things he occasionally did for you to express his love and care for you.

He knew you had done this on purpose, you loved to do small things like these in order to get his attention, knowing he didn’t have the balls to touch you in a public place. “What’s up beautiful?”

“Nothing much, I just came from one of my economics lectures and saw you up here alone. I thought you’d might like some company.” You replied before you slumped down into the old wooden bench.

“Mhm, I could tell by that large ass folder you have in your arms right now.” He softly chuckled, pointing at the purple folder filled with notes you took from the past year of lectures. He closed his computer and set it aside before snatching the folder out of your fingers and placing it in his.

He began to flick through your notes and shook his head. “You take this way too seriously y/n. I keep telling you to relax, you’re gonna end up working yourself out.”

You rolled your eyes and snatched back your folder from his arms. He laughed as you began to reorder the notes from A-Z. “Says the guy that doesn’t do revision until the night before and still scrapes ninety percent.”

“What can I say? I’m just a lazy natural genius.” He boasted and pointed at himself with a large grin. You flipped him off and flicked him hard against his cheek, earning a small hiss before he playfully barged you.

“Fuck you Tomura. Econ is harder than you think, I bet you didn’t even understand the notes you just saw.” You pouted your bottom lip and pulled the strings of your hoodie so your face was covered.

“You’re right. I didn’t get a single bit of that shit in your folder, but I’m pretty sure programming is harder.” He picked up his computer and showed you the new programme he was currently working on. After a few seconds, your eyes began to hurt at the amount of numbers and gibberish on his screen.

You deeply sighed and moved your head away from the computer screen. “Yeah, I’m glad I didn’t decide to go into computer programming. After that small side class I did, it put me off for life.”

He smiled and put his computer back into his brown bag. “Well at least you got to meet me, that was one pro of the introductory class right?”

“Oh please, it made my experience even worse. You wouldn’t stop taking the piss out of me for getting the programming wrong.” During your first few months at your university, you decided to take a look at more potential side hobbies you could take during your time here.

One of those things was the computer programming introductory course, Tomura was one of the second year voluntary assistants for the teacher, he later told you that he did it for his favourite professor and a bit of easy money.

The first thing that attracted you to him was his intelligence, you couldn’t understand a single thing the teacher was talking about but Tomura explained everything to you in less than a few minutes along with some guidance on the programming.

After that you started to see him around campus quite often. He’d always say hi to you whenever you were in the library looking over books, and sometimes even offered or keep you company whenever you were alone studying during your free periods.

After a few months, It went from a few small subtle greetings, to little conversations about each other’s lives and your studies, to him asking you out on a date to the movie as friends, to you both making out with each other in the back of his car or whenever there was an opportunity.

“Oh shut up, you know you loved it.” He put a hand over the side of the bench and you leaned into his chest, resting your eyes as Tomura watched you in great confusion.

“You sure you wanna do that here? What if someone sees us?”

You sighed and glanced up at his low, soft crimson eyes. “I really don’t give a fuck, it’s been a while since we’ve spent time with each other in public like this.”

He shrugged at your response and finally gave in, resting his head against yours as he peacefully stared up into the clouds. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to spend time with you for the last couple of weeks y/n. I’ve just been really busy with those stupid classes.”

You ran your little fingers through his hair before you gently kissed his neck. “It’s okay Tomura, I haven’t exactly been free to hang out either. I’m even planning on leaving the cheer team.”

“Why? I love how sexy you look in that little skirt while you jump and shake those pom-poms.” He shamelessly teased, squeezing one of your thighs with a wide grin on his face.

You scoffed before running your hand across his chest. “Don’t worry too much, it’ll only be for a little while, just until I get all of these tests out of the way. I’ll probably be back on the team before the next game.” He hummed and began to shut his eyes.

He lived for small moments like these, nothing but the two of you embracing one another in each other’s arms. Listening to nothing but the sweet sounds of the birds chirping and small gust’s of wind.

After a few minutes of silence between the two of you, Shigaraki checked his watch before sighing in annoyance. His next lecture was in less than five minutes, he removed his hand from your thigh and began to pack up his things. “I’ve gotta go, more lectures and shit. Are we still on for Friday though?”

“It’s okay, I should start making my way to my dorm before getting set up for cheerleading practice. And I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You stood up from the bench and flattened out your skirt before picking up your rucksack and hooking it over your shoulder.

“Good, cause I’ve missed you.” Your boyfriend told you, wrapping the croissant up in a small paper bag and slipping it in one of his pockets.

“Did you miss me? Or did you miss rearranging my guts?” You grinned as you picked up your large, heavy folder.

Tomura hugged you one last time and gave you a quick kiss. “Both.” He whispered in your ear, followed by another kiss to your cheek. He released you from his grip, slinging his bag over his shoulder and smiling as you made your way down the hill.

As you began to walk away from the hill and back towards the east of campus, you heard Shigaraki call out to you from the top.

“By the way. Nice hoodie!”

“Thanks, you’re not getting it back by the way!” You blew him a kiss before he could say anything to protest against your decision and skipped in the direction of your dormitory.

He rolled his eyes walked in the opposite direction towards the computer programming lecture hall.

University and exam life was incredibly stressful, but at least you had each other to take your minds off of all of it.

Even if it was in secret.

[kleem-o]

I want to create a college au where dabi is just touya but he’s a fuckboy 😩

In this au they still have their quirks, but Touya didn’t get burned alive and he still lives with the Todoroki family. Enji here is trying to be a good man but everyone still hates him

Anyway, Touya thinks he can get all the girls and he honestly doesn’t care that much about them that is until he meets you reader 😌

Reader is a famous art student with a powrful quirk “manipulate” she can basically manipulate anything, from emotions to atoms all that shit

They met and Touya being the fuckboy he is, they slept together. Touya thought that reader would be just one of the girls he uses, you know the girls that fawns all over him. But thats not the case

Reader is a badass 💅 Kind of like Makima from chainsawman minus the grooming minors part.

Anw Touya is shocked at reader’s behavior, so he always initiates conversations with them to the point they get close

Basically Touya falls for reader and his friends Twice and Shiggy (they’re not villains here) makes fun of him and teases him all the time 🤭

After some time reader and Touya get together and Touya is so CLINGY that Twice and Shiggy can’t believe thats their friend clinging on reader 🫢

Anw Touya always stays at reader’s apartment since he doesn’t like being home. Touya also told reader about his past and all that so reader and Touya has a deeper understanding of each other.

UgHhh I really want to write a fic like this about how they met and their first night together when they still weren’t a couple 😩🫣

[layenacreates]

Like Crazy

You breathed in the air of a new day in your new home. Sunlight beamed down through your window on to the floor, highlighting the messiness of the days before.

You had just moved into your new apartment a week before school started and it showed. Boxes littered the floor, each filled with items expressing your personality. You would have taken better care to organize but come on. Who has the time?

Time.

Scrambling through your sheets, you grabbed your phone to check the time.

8:07 am

Not bad.

Grumbling to yourself, you left the warm embrace of your bed and began your shuffle towards the bathroom. The rose gold covered walls patiently watched your movements. If they had a voice, they probably tell you to move faster. You need to get started on breakfast before your new roommate decided to get agitated with you again.

As you did your business, you recalled your first meeting with him.

Walking through the door of your new house, you placed your box filled with pictures of your friends and family down on the counter. The space was nicely furnished with blue couches and an expensive looking TV to the right. The coffee table seemed like a perfect place to rest your feet after a long day of standing and taking orders, as you would soon start your job at the coffee shop right off campus.

Smiling to yourself, your gaze quickly moved to the kitchen right behind the living room. Decorated with different appliances, you noticed that no matter what you wanted to cook, you would be set. It felt like a dream to be able to live in such a beautiful apartment and have all your expense paid for. Well, except for food.

That was the agreement you had entered with the owner of this apartment. Rent and utilities would be covered so long as you took care of the cleaning and cooking. Of course when you heard about this your mind instantly went to, “what psycho would agree to that?”

Turns out, you were that psycho. Only days before your college orientation did you realize you never had applied to housing at your new school. Unfortunately that meant that you had to find off-campus housing, which conveniently, was already booked up for the new school year.

Desperate, you searched the college’s reddit page and found the listing for the new apartment that you currently resided in. Was it risky? Maybe. Was it your only option? Yes.

You quickly exchanged numbers with the mysterious owner and had only contacted each other through text. He was direct and didn’t enjoy small talk from what you could tell. Since your first (and very warm) introduction message was received with what you interpreted as a cold shoulder.

“Hi! My name is y/n! I am new to the university and I am so happy that I was able to find your offer before anyone else. It’s nice to meet you and I have read through the contract and I agree to sign. Please let me know if there is anything else I need to fill out or help with!”

See? Warm. Welcoming. Respectful!

What did you get in return?

“Name’s Dabi. When can you move in?”

Okay, so not the welcoming party you were expecting but at least you have a name? From there you understood that he wasn't a very talkative person and stuck to important information. You adjusted yourself to this type of texting and even felt reassured at one point.

Sure he sounded cold but that didn’t mean serial killer cold, right?

Grabbing a towel from your hanger, you quickly ushered yourself into the shower and turned it on. Another plus was that the water allows came out warm so you didn’t need to wait for it.

Allowing the water to soak your body, your mind drifted back to your first meeting.

“Hello.”

Spinning on your heel, you came face to face to a tall, blue-eyed man. Dabi

You instantly recognized him. But how could you? You only texted the owner. Never saw a picture or heard his voice.

So, how did you suddenly know he was standing before you?

“I-hello!”

Your voice was too high, even for you. You internally cringed and tried again.

“Hi, I presume your Dabi,” you questioned. You realized that just because you felt safe and sure it was him, didn’t mean it was true.

A small hum was your only indication that you had guessed right.

You watched as his eyes raked over your form slowly, taking you in from your feet upwards. You watched him watch you. Desperately. Okay. Maybe. Just maybe a bit awkwardly.

It was painstakingly hard to wait until he reached your face. His blue-eyes found yours eventually but they held a slight spark in them that you couldn’t discern. Maybe your eyes were playing tricks on your but you thought you saw the corners of his lips lift, ever so slightly.

A hard knock on your door, snapped you to the present moment.

“You almost done in there, I’m starving!”

Your roommate, quite the gentlemen, reminded you of your obligations. The only reason he seemed to agree to let you stay here is because you didn’t annoy him. The same could not be said of himself on days like this.

His dad must have texted him, you mused. Over the course of the week you had stayed with Dabi, you learned quite a few things about his character.

Rule 1: Don’t ask about his family, especially his parents.

You reminisced your first meeting again as your turn offed the shower and reached for your towel.

A loud buzz from Dabi’s pocket made you snap your eyes back to his. Dabi reached towards his back pocket with a sigh. He seemed agitated which only grew into anger as his eyes glazed over the screen and the contact.

Dabi grumbled something with the only word you could figure out was “dad” and “always”.

You the ever so eager individual trying to make a good impression tried a tactic. That backfired. Epically.

“Parents,” you half-smiled, “am I right?” You shrugged to show your indifference and tried to match his annoyance.

Dabi side-eyed you as his only response. His aura seemed to grow angrier and angrier as you stood there. You could tell he was trying to maintain his composure but his demeanor was that of a house fire, only growing stronger and scarier as time passed by.

Luckily, you caught on quick and decided to give him some space.

“I’m going to put away some clothes,” you glanced towards your exit. Since his door was covered in black with blue flames covering the bottom, you assumed the door that was left bare was yours.

You stole a quick look to Dabi as your turned away. His posture was slightly less rigid but he eyes were still set ablaze. Silently burning a hole through his phone. Or maybe the person on the other end.

Squaring your shoulders, you willed your body to walk towards your room to begin the task you had placed on yourself. “It was nice meeting you,” you quietly uttered. The slam of your door was then heard as your entered the room and looked on your new space that you would inhabit.

The same space your crossed as your pranced around your room in nothing but a towel. Your first matter of business would have been to dress cute and do your makeup but with Mr. Piercings Galore out there, you settled with a simple blue crop top with some leggings to make breakfast.

Quickly brushing your hair, you glanced at your alarm clock to read the time.

8:29 am

Okay, not bad.

You still had an hour and a half until your first class. Stats. Not the worse subject, but from what your read up on the professor you didn’t want to be late.

Turning the doorknob, you entered into the share living space and made your way across to the fridge.

While walking, Dabi eyed you as you walked by. “Coffee.” The only things he seemed to slip passed his mouth were demands.

“Going,” you replied.

Rule #2: Dabi needs his coffee in the morning or he will be a menace. Well, more than he already is.

“That’s what your wearing,” Dabi stated plainly. Translation: That’s not your usual style. What’s up?

At least that’s how you imagine Dabi communicates. His words, although blunt, had an underlying message to them.

“You said you were hungry,” you replied, grabbing the milk and eggs,”it was the fastest thing I could grab.” Setting the ingredients from the fridge on top of the counter. You reached for the k-cups and placed one in the machine. Making sure you had enough water in the reservoir, you turned it on and then placed a Dabi’s favorite coffee mug underneath the machine.

You knew better than to try to start a conversation with Dabi before his morning coffee, so you stayed silent, allowing the coffee machine to whirl to life and fill the silence in the apartment.

While the machine poured coffee into his mug, you made your way to the cupboards and found the materials to get started. First, you added butter to a pan and let that heat up. Meanwhile, you prepped Dabi’s coffee, two spoons of sugar and a large amount of milk. Unlike his attitude, he liked his coffee sweet.

Setting in front of him his cup with a, “here you go”, you turned back around to add in the eggs into the pan. Both of you would take your eggs fried.

Your hands then went to work untangling the tie from the bag of bread and pulled out four pieces. You added each to the toaster and put the heat on medium.

Returning to your eggs, you made sure they were just right before flipping them and moving on to the finishing touches. You reached into the fridge once again and pulled out some strawberries and blueberries. Taking care to wash each piece, you then pulled out two plates and set an equal amount of each fruit on each.

When the timer rang on the toaster, you made your way over and deposited two pieces of bread on each of the plate. Then, with the spatula, you added one egg to each plate and then constructed a sandwich for each of you.

Yes, it was simple. But simple was good. Dabi liked simple and it was fast too. Picking up each plate, you turned around after making sure to turn off the stove, and placed a plate down in front of Dabi.

“Enjoy.” You sat at the far end of the table, allowing Dabi his space. “Alexa, play Morning Mix.”

Over the time you had spent with Dabi, you had found what kind of songs were to his liking. Of course, it was heavy metal but funnily enough, you found that he also enjoyed a variety of other music.

The sound of Park Jimin’s voice echoed throughout the space as “Like Crazy” began to play.

Bobbing your head to the music, you ate in silence apart from the music.

It was peaceful.

You know, I know.

You heard each sip Dabi took.

I’d rather be lost in the lights

The birds singing outside.

Lost in the lights

The warm breeze from the window.

I’m outta my mind

It all felt so domestic and serene.

Can you help me numb the pain?

Of course that’s when it all went to shit.

“So you got a boyfriend?”

Whipping your head to the adonis of a man that sat before you. You eyed him carefully before you responded. What kind of question is that?

Dabi seemed unamused, waiting for a response. He certainly doesn’t look teasing.

But that didn’t let you lower your guard down. “No,” you hastily responded, “I don’t.”

Side-eyeing the clock on the stove, you noticed that it had started to creep towards nine. Pushing down the ball in your throat, you forced the next words out of your mouth. “It’s almost nine, I have to go.”

Finishing the last of your meal, you dropped your plate into the sink and scrambled back into your room. Shutting the door to make sure you had some privacy, you let out a quick gush of air.

The memories started to come back to your mind in flashes.

Laughing. Kissing. Holding hands. Hugging. Smilin-

No.

That is as far as you let yourself remember.

Taking in a breathe. Letting it out. That is what you focused on. You needed to start your day and get ready. You had probably less than an hour left for class and you still needed to do so much.

Pulling yourself together, you walked towards your closet and began shuffling for the perfect first day outfit. A simple white spagetti strap shirt with a white cardigan over some blue jeans. Dressing yourself, you noticed that you still needed accessories so you grabbed some butterfly earrings and a white headband to complete your look. You moved on to makeup next and added a light layer of foundation and then went through the rest of your makeup rountine swiftly.

Before you knew it, it was nine-thirty.

I have to go.

Reaching for your planner and journal from your desk, you dumped all your materials inside your bag and made a run for your shoes.

I don’t even know the building that I am supposed to go to.

Luckily, you were right off campus, and right across from the bars too.

Making sure had everything, you took a quick look at yourself in the mirror (snapping a picture later for insta) and twisted the doornob to the living room.

Dabi had left. Thankfully, he had put his dishes in the sink.

Weirdly enough, you felt a pang of sadness from the lack of his presence. You wanted to at least tell him goodbye and wish him good luck.

Shrugging to yourself you made your way to the door and to the start of your new life at your new college.

Chapter 2

[shiveringrodent]

Sketch of college au Touya todoroki!

Yeah he always looks tired

[the-masked-ram]

Blurred Lines- Chapter Three

CW: NSFW, College AU, Roommate AU, Dom/Sub Undertones, Gambling, Friends with Benefits, Enemies to friends, Hate sex, Impact play, Mild Breath play, Drugs, Alcohol, afab! reader

See more content like this with months of early access, all original content, and artwork on my patreon

---

Chapter Three: The Sandwich is a Lie

Classes had been kicking your ass if you were honest. As someone who majored in environmental studies, who eventually wanted to help work to change the world for the better, your classes were many and exhausting. Add your work to that, and now taking care of Touya’s housework and food, and you were running on very little sleep.

The thing was, what you thought would be easy when it came to keeping the flat clean, was just another front Touya put on. If he had been left to his own devices, the apartment would never had been that clean to begin with. He had apparently been paying for a maid service.

No, the usual amount of filth, dirty laundry, junk lying around, and just general grossness, was astronomical. It’s like he didn’t know how to pick up after himself or didn’t care to. More likely the second. The meal planning at least was normal and stuck right to the rules and expectations.

However, because of your lack of sleep, you’d forgotten about the whole confusion and worry of who Touya really was, not just his name since you were positive you’d heard it before, but also why he was so secretive. You were running yourself ragged, and in the process sleeping far deeper and longer than you usually did when you actually managed to catch a few hours. Your alarm was not working as well anymore and often you either missed it or swiped it to turn off instead of snooze.

Thankfully the day you truly overslept, so much so that minutes turned into hours, was a day you didn’t have class- thank you flu season- and didn’t have work. So, you didn’t wake from paranoia plaguing your dreams, no… instead you were awoken by your incredibly rude, asshole of a roommate banging open your door and sitting on you.

Touya expected you to follow the rules, but he tended to take liberties with them a lot of the time. It’s a wonder how he hadn’t walked in on you naked yet.

You flailed awake, only to realize that your squirming body was pinned down by an annoyingly heavy weight, so you rolled, and he fell up against the wall on the other side of your body.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing, Touya?” you snarled, voice still gravelly with sleep but clearly conveying your irritation.

“Me? I was just worried about my wonderful roommate, obviously. I mean usually she’s up at the crack of dawn and today she’s almost slept in ‘til noon,” his blue eyes glittered mirthfully.

You rubbed a hand across your eyes as you checked you phone, he was right it was almost twelve. Damn, you’d wasted so much time. But you body wasn’t aching like before. You were surprised he hadn’t come in earlier.

“Did you just wake up too? And realize there wasn’t any coffee or something?” you groaned as you sat up, the shirt that you’d worn to bed twisting and exposing your cleavage.

“Naw, I’ve been up for hours now,” he said, eyes narrowing and sliding across your skin so obviously that you couldn’t ignore it even in your sleepy state.

“Touya… Can you go wait for me outside my bedroom?” you asked patiently.

He hummed, but moved off the bed, probably in the most inconvenient way. He rolled over you, taking care to brush about every inch of his body over yours that he could without it seeming too obvious. Though honestly, he didn’t succeed in staying incognito. Sometimes he was such a jerk, he had to know how he affected you. You felt your heart ramp up eagerly, and you sighed, flopping back against the pillow until you heard the door click shut.

“Asshole,” you groaned as you covered you face with your arm.

Your life with Touya had become very strange. He now openly flirted with you, not just eye fucking you. It was becoming harder and harder to keep your cool around him as he continued to up the ante. You couldn’t deny that, though you had very little time to yourself, you had far more money than you’d had in ages, and you were actually saving a small amount every week. Also, you were eating actual food.

You definitely felt grateful he’d let you sleep in. It would be rather normal for your roommate to wake you up when he’d awoken and then you’d be even more sleep deprived. You wondered if he’d noticed how exhausted you’d been lately. Snorting in amusement you stood and slipped on a pair of sleep shorts. Even if he did, Touya wouldn’t let you sleep if he wanted you awake, it wasn’t his style.

You yawned, rubbing a knuckle across your eyes as you stumbled from your room. You half expected Touya to be waiting for you, maybe waiting to scare the shit out you. But he wasn’t, so you wandered into the bathroom to do your daily care routine and make yourself look mildly presentable for the day.

Touya was sprawled out on the couch texting aggressively on his phone. He glanced up when you walked in, and once again you could feel the prickling heat of his teal eyes wander over your legs. You suppressed a shiver, refusing to let him have the satisfaction of affecting you.

“Ah, I’m sorry I wasn’t up to make you a breakfast or lunch or anything,” you murmured sheepishly.

“There’s food leftover if ya want it?” he slurred lazily, rolling over to prop his chin on the arm of the sofa.

“Wha-?” you said and when you stepped into the kitchen you saw not just food left over but a plate carefully wrapped that held a simple meal.

It wasn’t anything special, just a sandwich with some fruit on the side. But it didn’t stop the warmth from unfurling in your chest, it didn’t stop you from biting your lip and breathing deeply to stop the sudden rush of overwhelming tears. You were exhausted, emotions threatening to break the dam, and here Touya was being… considerate? It wasn’t fair.

“Thank you,” you breathed, feeling like someone had punched you in the gut.

“It’s just a fuckin’ sandwich,” he mumbled, and you didn’t look over because you could hear the embarrassment in his voice.

“I know,” you whispered.

It was just a sandwich, but that single act of kindness meant he had noticed, and that he was a decent enough of a human being to want to ease your burden for a moment. To make that soothing rush of serotonin take over so that the rest of the week would go easier.

You grinned as you sat down and revered the sandwich as if it were a steak. While you slowly went about enjoying your first meal of the day, Touya joined you at the kitchen island. He stared at you for several minutes and for those several minutes you were able to ignore him, until he cleared his throat and you sighed.

“Yes, Touya?” you asked around the mouthful of bread and fillings.

“I have a party this weekend,” he responded.

Your chewing slowed as you sifted through your fogged memories, you knew there was something specific you should remember about this word. Party… There was something you didn’t like that was part of your--.

“You mean on the day I have off?” your eyes narrowed, subtle irritation tightening your muscles.

“Yeah, think so,” he murmured as if he didn’t have your schedule written out on his phone.

“So, what… was this sandwich some form of apology? Or some way to get me to comply with your stupid rule for the parties?” you aggressively took another bite.

“If you wanna see it that way, sure,” Touya shrugged, already turning back to his phone with narrowed eyes.

He was typing away on the screen before you even had a chance to snap back at him, instead choosing to finish off the food that had brought you such joy earlier. Even now though, you couldn’t deny the simple meal had tasted far better than it should have. Maybe you had been running yourself thinner than even you were aware.

Spending the night in your room, finishing up homework, watching a show, or reading a book might not be so bad. Perhaps Touya was giving you a blessing in disguise. Forcing your overworked mind and body to relax. Yet, you still felt a petty anger directed toward your roommate as you went back to your room to get dressed.

 

---

It was during coffee that day, with you good friends Mina and Tsuyu, gossiping and laughing away, that you learned once again the Todoroki name. Where you learned just who you were staying with. Suddenly, everything seemed to flip on its head, and you felt your hands clench on the cardboard cup you held, and it crushed under your fingers. What had you gotten yourself into?

-Taglist-

@arvandus

[ramenaddicted]

MHA college AU Reader x Various characters, WIP.

Secrets.

Hidey ho! just post a little snippet of a new fic I'm working on, it's gonna be under the cut, because it's explicit language.

Dabi is in hell, but is he really if you're drunkenly talking his ear off while he’s frantically trying to keep his cool?

He is lazily lounging on his couch in his current predicament while trying to hide his ever-growing erection. Why? Because you are sitting too close to him while talking to him about your first trip to a fetish dungeon.

“I’m telling you Dabi.” you slurred while trying to tug him closer. “One moment I’m at the bar, next thing you know some dude is asking if he can cum in my socks.”

It’s astonishing really, You and Dabi are acquaintances at best, your link is Himiko Toga. The blonde introduced you two to each other at lunch and from then on your interactions have been mostly at school. This party was just an escape for him, until you sauntered over to him with a red plastic cup with a mysterious concoction inside.

You slowly settled against him, like a cat seeking out the warmth from their owner, and rested your head against him.

“Daaabiii~” you sang.

“Hey, there y/n, what’s up?” Dabi asked eyeing you warily, you looked up at him in wonder, in your mind there's something you've always wanted to ask him

[andypantsx3]

DEAD RECKONING : TODOROKI TOUYA x READER

SUMMARY: A makeup artist at a haunted maze, all you want to do is make it to the end of the season with a little extra cash in your pocket and no murder convictions on your record. Scare actor Todoroki Touya makes that last part a challenge. (7.8k) CONTENT & WARNINGS: no quirks au, halloween, enemies to lovers, fem + afab reader, slight scumbag touya, haunted maze workers, smut, semi-public sex, smoking, heavy swearing, touya likes having his hair pulled + girls who are a little mean to him, sort of good girl vs bad boy vibes, 18+ minors please dni NOTES: Happy Halloween from me!! This fic is part of the Willow's Haunted House collab. Dedicated to cat-slippered and ofmermaidstories, for workshopping what eventually became this fic with me about a thousand years ago. I’m sorry I turned Bakugou into Dabi. And I’m sorry for dedicating the now Dabi fic to you. But not sorry enough to not have done it. Love you. :)

If there was one thing you hated about Halloween, it was Todoroki Touya.

Shockingly, this was not a commonly-held sentiment, which was the only reason there even was a recurrence of Todoroki Touya darkening your Halloween seasons in the first place.

For the last three years, you’d spent your fall semester working as a makeup artist at the Musutafu haunted maze alongside a slew of other college and local kids looking to make a little extra cash. The hours were fairly flexible, and the wage covered your textbooks, with a little left over to keep you in the occasional coffee between lectures.

But your wages did not nearly cover the amount of psychic damage you had been dealt, managing Todoroki Touya’s obnoxious, sarcastic, chain-smoking ass day after day for seasons on end.

On lucky days, someone else was on Touya duty. But on unlucky ones, you found him sprawling in the plastic makeup chair opposite you, those intense blue eyes tracking you with no small amount of pleasure, like he was this afternoon.

You stopped in the doorway, a curse slipping out of you. You’d been hoping that you’d get lucky today, as the day was otherwise an excellent one. You’d invited a group of friends to do the maze with you after you got off shift, and you had been looking forward to it all week.

But it figured Touya could never let you have too good of a time.

“Missed you too, sweetheart,” he drawled over the noise of displeasure that escaped you. He was at least already dressed in costume, so he wouldn’t go smearing his makeup as he pulled it on, a tumble of stitches and frayed edges that had once been a dark-blue duster, but now just mostly gaped open to show the hard planes of his chest.

“I’m so sure,” you told him, averting your eyes from his pecs. You sighed, resigning yourself to his presence, and made your way in, dumping your bag on the staff room couch.

“This is a very hostile work environment you’re creating,” Touya rasped, his grin sharp. Years of chain-smoking outside the maze had left his voice even lower and raspier than when you’d first met him three years ago.

“Don’t worry, it can always get more hostile,” you told him, affecting your own sweet grin as you moved over to the vanity, digging through all the makeup and prosthetics for the ones he’d need.

Touya himself was severely scarred, which was likely why he’d applied to work at the haunted maze in the first place. You’d never asked him about his scars, but you’d heard enough gossip from the other maze workers to know that they were the product of a childhood accident, involving the burning down of his father’s—the then-and-current mayor’s—house.

He’d accentuated them with a shit load of facial piercings, and was sort of off-putting to look at the first time you caught a glimpse of him. The issue was that, once your eyes made sense of what they were seeing, he was infuriatingly handsome.

You’d heard he’d initially been unleashed on the maze with no makeup or prosthetics, and within the first evening was causing line backups, with all the parties of teen girls who were taking a little too much time lingering around his section of the maze.

So now he was subjected to prosthetics to make him uglier, a fact that he seemed to absolutely relish.

You dug out the monster prosthetic pack that gave him jutting forehead ridges. “Let’s make the outside reflect the inside, shall we,” you told him as you flapped the rubbery pieces at him, smirking your own little smirk.

Touya’s answering grin was wicked, and he relaxed back in his seat, sprawling his legs out wide in that infuriating way men had. “Think my outside is too pretty then, huh?” he asked, sapphire eyes flickering over you.

Your face went hot in a weird combination of anger and embarrassment. “I try not to think of your outside,” you told him pertly, making sure to slap the forehead piece onto him hard enough to make a splat noise.

His mouth twitched again but he let you go to work, gluing the pieces down against his face, careful not to press them to the seams of any of his scars. He was tall enough even lounging in his seat that you only had to lean over a little to focus clearly on his face, all long legs and rangy muscle.

This close, he always smelled like cigarette smoke, with an undercurrent of something rich and dark, like cinnamon or chocolate. You could never put your finger on it, but you were not about to go sniffing him at any length to figure it out, even if it was annoyingly appealing.

He’d probably love that, and would absolutely never let you live it down.

Touya’s eyes tracked you closely as you worked, but otherwise his expression was still, and you thought not for the first time that it really was too bad he was so obnoxious. He was actually quite handsome, with a soft, sensuous mouth, a blade-straight nose, and vivid blue eyes that all but glowed like the embers of a crackling fire when he was provoking you.

It was a shame he wasted all his beauty being the most annoying man on earth.

You’d heard from the other maze workers that he was relatively well-known around the area, having spent his teen years doing petty criminal shit to destabilize his father’s reelection campaigns, netting himself several jail stays and a record a mile long. He’d settled somewhat since he’d gotten a job at a piercing parlor downtown and several side gigs like the maze, but people weren’t fully convinced he’d abandoned his old ways, and he still clearly relished any opportunity to discomfort and destabilize anyone who got on his bad side.

Apparently including you.

“Don’t hurt yourself thinking too hard, sweetheart,” Touya said, those cerulean eyes blinking up at you.

You realized you’d paused over him, midway through blending his prosthetic forehead in, and another annoying little smirk rode his mouth.

You took care to roll your eyes at him, gesturing at him with your brush. “I know several places I can stick this if you’re not careful.”

Touya’s smirk melted into an unholy grin. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he rasped, eyes glittering up at you.

You went back to work on him with a little more force than necessary, blending hard enough that you saw his broad shoulders shift in an effort to keep his neck braced. “I doubt any time with you could be classed as good,” you said pertly, giving a final few brushes before stepping back, satisfied with your work.

The forehead made him look unhinged as he offered another smirk, leaning forward. “True—the feedback I usually get is ‘incredible’, ‘mind-blowing’, ‘earth-shattering’, ‘toe-curling’, ‘scream-inducing’—”

“Oh I’ll scream if you keep talking,” you said hotly, even as your cheeks warmed. Even with the stupid fucking forehead he was annoyingly handsome. You needed him a thousand million miles away from you before you herniated something, jumping back and forth between annoyance and attraction.

Maybe it was time to stop signing up to work here.

“Now get out of my room, I have other people waiting,” you commanded, thankful when you heard the scuff of a boot at the door confirming another maze worker waiting.

Touya didn’t look at all chastened, but he unfolded himself from the chair in an unfurling of broad shoulders and long legs. He leaned in close as he passed, voice dipping low. “See you later, sweetheart,” he said, a smile curling his mouth.

Annoyingly, his proximity crossed a bunch of the wires in your brain, and you fumbled before managing, “Not if we’re both lucky.”

“Stop, I’ll blush,” he drawled, another unholy grin splitting his cheeks before he saluted two fingers at you and ducked out of the room. The scent of smoke and cinnamon followed him, and you let out a sigh of relief, the air and your brain clearer now that he was gone.

No sooner were you free of him, however, than another problem was immediately introduced.

“So…he actually talks to you?” The other maze worker’s head poked through the door, her eyes resting on you intently. You recognized her as a local highschooler who’d just joined this season, who usually ended up getting in early enough to get her makeup done by the other artist.

You blinked. “I…unfortunately?” you answered, confused.

She stepped into the room, and you reflexively gestured her over to the chair that Touya had just abandoned.

She hummed as she took her seat, eyeing you curiously. “Wow. How’d you get him to do that? He doesn’t really talk to any of us,” she informed you.

You could feel your eyebrows lift towards your hairline. “He…doesn’t…?”

She shook her head, her pretty golden ringlets swaying with the motion. “He’ll chainsmoke with Tomura and he sometimes talks to Himiko. But the other girls—they say he just laughs and walks away if they try to chat with him.”

Well. That sounded rude enough to be true to form, you thought. But when Touya was in your makeup chair you couldn’t get him to shut the hell up. You shifted, uncomfortable with the idea that Touya had any special soft spot for you. Maybe, like a cat, he could sense who didn’t much like him and decided to latch on out of spite.

“You might be a little young for him,” you decided, going over to the vanity and digging out the prosthetics she’d need—a witch chin and a raised gorey slash that would open along one cheekbone.

“No—it’s all the other girls too. And most of the guys,” she told you. “He must like you.”

A laugh escaped you, and you turned back to her with the prosthetics in hand, a few new brushes and a white, cakey paint palette shoved beneath your elbow.

“I don’t think he likes anyone,” you told her, setting everything down and applying the tacky glue to the underside of her chin prosthetic. “I think he just likes to inflict himself on people he knows it will annoy. You could act disinterested in talking to him and he’d probably come flitting right over.” The image of Touya suffering at the hands of a league of flirty high school girls pleased you—better they suck up his time and energy than you.

“I don’t know,” the girl said uncertainly. “Maybe he likes you.” But she was forced to leave it at that once you started applying her chin, making it difficult for her to speak.

You certainly didn’t think that was the case.

But the seeds of doubt had already been sown, a question that you thought would probably haunt your evening now that it had been formed. Just why did Touya talk to you if he was so standoffish with other people? And what did it mean that he made such a point of it?

You knew for sure it wasn’t because he liked you, his obnoxious manner said that well enough. But why did you get treatment that was significant enough that even the other maze workers would comment on it?

And, perhaps even more concerningly, why did the thought agitate you so much?

You decided to try your best not to think about it, and have a good time with your friends once they got there, putting Touya out of your mind. You returned to doing the girl’s makeup with vigor, suddenly as eager to get her out of your chair as you had been Touya.

She was finished in record time and she thanked you, carefully not to smile too widely lest she dislodge the prosthetics. You took in the next person waiting as she left, slowly working your way through the line of people as the hour drew ever closer to the maze’s evening opening time.

Eventually you finished up and collected your things, making your way out front to find your friends already waiting for you. They’d clearly dressed with the intent to go out after—something you hadn’t considered—their dresses short and slinky and their makeup smoky. You’d have liked to have joined, but you were still in the sweater and leggings you’d come straight from lectures in.

Maybe you would have time to go home and change after the maze.

You were scooped up into several hugs, breathing in the sweet scents of various perfumes, and informed that you absolutely did have to go home and get changed after so you could come out and get “Hallowasted!” too.

“Okay if I’m not busy peeing my pants, which monsters are the ones you did?” your roommate asked, dancing around to warm herself in the cool fall air. “I wanna see ‘em.”

You named several of your creations, conveniently leaving off Touya. You knew that if your friends took too close a look at him and figured out what he looked like under the cakey makeup and forehead prosthetic, they’d never leave the maze. You knew he sat somewhere around the end of the set up, in an alcove that had been decorated to look like an abandoned village with burned out cabins, a mess of bones dotting the ground at the side of the walkway.

You were also hoping you could pass unnoticed in the group of your friends, as there was no doubt in your mind that Touya would take special care to annoy you in particular. So you did not want your group to linger long enough for your friends to scope him out.

You would know it was him under the makeup you’d done yourself, but being cornered somewhere in the dark with the soundtrack of screams echoing in your ears would not exactly have you feeling your boldest.

Your group had dinner at the food trucks parked out front, chatting and laughing and waiting for the crowds to die down, each indulging in one drink for bravery before joining the line. Eventually you ended up at the front of the queue, late in the evening, your friends crowding in behind you, whispering nervously.

“You first,” your roommate hissed when you looked back at them questioningly. “You work here, you have to do the honors.”

You sighed, accepting your fate, making a mental note to subtly shift to the back of the pack as you made it further into the maze.

Then you were being greeted by Shigaraki Tomura, whose makeup you’d done last. He’d been given layers of prosthetic peeling skin and a scar at his mouth, and he was decorated with a layer of disembodied hands gripping him all over. He shredded your tickets, looking unenthused.

“Remember that inside the maze, none of the monsters can touch you,” he recited dully. “You are not permitted to touch them in return; do not hit, kick, push, bite, slap, lick, scratch, or otherwise assault the actors. Don’t tamper with the props, do not leave items behind. Be respectful of other guests and do not linger too long in the rooms. If you need to leave for any reason, every room or alcove has clearly-lit exits marked in red.”

His eyes briefly met yours as he waved you through, and you thought you saw a pale brow go up.

But then you were being shoved forward by your friends, several hands clinging to your arms and the back of your shirt, and you stepped forward into the dark of the hall.

The maze truly was a labyrinth—it started indoors in a pitch black room, with fake body bags hanging from the ceiling. Toga Himiko, a highschooler whose makeup you usually did, stalked you around the edges of the room, dressed in a torn school uniform with fangs peeking out of her widely grinning mouth, and a dripping knife clutched eagerly in her fingers.

Once you made it past her, the maze spilled outdoors, into a tangle of hedges and artificially-constructed set, steering you in twisting loops around the property.

You were pleased with how terrifying all the actors looked, even having done most of their prosthetics yourself, and found your heart racing as you took every new corner, found yourself freezing up and stumbling back whenever someone jumped out at you, suppressing a shriek.

Your friends participated with gusto, shrieking and ducking away from the monsters, holding you like a human shield between them and the maze workers. You would have been insulted if it hadn’t been so funny.

You made it through most of the maze with little trouble, passing through a haunted swamp, a graveyard with mummies twisting and screaming in their bindings, grasping for you. You stumbled past a man wielding a chainsaw and a set of clowns waving axes, making it through in record time thanks to the push of your frantic friends behind you.

It was only on the last leg of the maze that you finally ran into Touya.

You peered around the corner, recognizing the set up instantly. The burned out houses flickered with blue flame, lighting up the set in an eerie, unsettling sapphire light. The fake bones on the ground sat in piles of ash, glowing stark white in the light. You couldn’t spot Touya anywhere, and you slowly crept forward, trying to shepherd your friends in front of you.

You even almost thought you had been successful, until a rasping voice drawled behind you, “Hello sweetheart.”

And then your roommate screamed, bolting forward, knocking into you and sending you stumbling over a pile of the fake bones. You landed hard on your ass in the patchy grass, the wind punching out of you.

“Oh fuck—” you heard one of your friends say as she too was steamrolled, and you watched the group of them trip over one another in their desperation to get through the alcove, dissolving into chaos in a matter of seconds.

You quickly tried to get to your feet to follow, but a hiss forced its way through your teeth when you tried your ankle, a wave of sharp pain washing over you.

Oh fuck. Not good.

The tread of a boot in the grass next to you made you jump, and your head whipped up to catch sight of Touya crouching over you.

“You good down there?” he asked. His eyes glinted in the dark of the maze, and the blue light cast shadows over his features, twisting them in the dim. Your heartbeat picked up, even as your brain recognized him for who he was.

You cringed, embarrassed that you’d had to hurt yourself in his part of the maze specifically. It figured.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, trying to climb to your feet again. Your ankle twinged in protest, and Touya must have caught the flash of pain on your face because then his hand was under your elbow, supporting you as you rose in an unexpected show of courtesy.

Although he broke the illusion immediately when he opened his mouth again.

“Yeah you look real fine,” he said, quirking an eyebrow. With the prosthetic forehead it made him look sort of demented.

“Well I’ll be fine,” you insisted, even as those blue eyes flickered over you assessingly. His fingers tightened a little on your arm before he bent down, tapping his other hand on your leg.

“Which leg, sweetheart?” he asked. “And where?”

It took you a minute to catch up to what he was asking, confused at seeing him on his haunches before you. A scream went up in the background, some terrified maze goer, and a little shiver went down your spine.

“Uh, the left ankle,” you supplied, startling when Touya’s fingers slid underneath the cuff of your legging over the aforementioned ankle, rolling it up gently. You blinked, surprised at the careful touch.

“Can’t see too well in the dark,” he announced. “But it looks like you ripped it open on something.” He peered back up at you. “Think it’s sprained?”

You shook your head. “Probably just rolled. It hurts but not like go-to-the-hospital level,” you said. “Just give me a minute, I’ll be good.”

Touya considered you for a moment, then got to his feet, moving closer. That scent of smoke and cinnamon drifted over to you, and he bent his head to look into your face.

“Much as you’re the most terrifying thing in this maze, I don’t think people are gonna wanna see you here,” he told you, a smirk cutting into his mouth. “Would ruin the experience. So we’re gonna have to get you out of here.”

You scowled up at him, crossing your arms over your chest. Well no thanks for the concern, then. “I’m going, I’m going, keep your shirt on,” you told him, preemptively gritting your teeth before readying yourself to take another step.

But before you could, one of Touya’s hands was suddenly sliding under your knees, his other slipping behind your shoulder. In the next second the burning buildings were swinging wildly in front of your eyes, and then you were being hefted up into Touya’s arms. You let out a startled yelp, your own hands shooting out to grab his jacket, giving him a wild-eyed look.

“Touya—!” you garbled out, as a smile pulled at his expression.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he told you, looking a little too smug about the situation he’d just put you in. He strode towards the exit, kicking the door open with a heavy boot, carrying you down the hall and back into the building. He was hard with wiry muscle underneath you, and so deliciously warm against you. Your ears went hot with every sure, easy step he took, like carrying you was little effort for him.

Thankfully it was barely a minute before you reached the staff room, where Touya laid you out gently on the couch, much more carefully than you might have expected from him.

Your cheeks and your nose burned, flaming even hotter when he squatted down in front of you and took your ankle in his hand again.

His dark eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he took note of your injury. In the light you could definitely see that you’d caught your ankle bone on one of the fake bones you’d tripped over, as there was a long gash up the side of it, but nothing else looked bruised or otherwise concerning. You thought you’d probably be fine in a couple hours, just a roll.

It was definitely nothing Touya had needed to princess carry you through the staff halls for!

“Don’t move,” Touya told you, and you watched, bewildered, as he stepped away, stalking over to the other side of the room where the staff lockers were. He dug out a shabby backpack, pulling something out of it, and then returned to your side, spreading out his haul on the couch next to you.

You noted a little tube of rubbing alcohol, an antiseptic cream and a bandage, as well as an ice pack. One of your eyebrows went up.

“You rob a hospital or something?” you asked reflexively, heart fluttering a little bit weirdly when Touya’s eyes flickered back up to yours. His eyelashes were long and thick, startlingly pretty.

“Nah,” he said, his gaze cutting suddenly away from yours. “Usually keep shit on hand for my burns.”

Your stomach flipped, and you realized how rude your question had been. Embarrassment welled up in a hard lump in your throat. Well shit. “Oh—fuck. Of course. I’m sorry, Touya.”

A pinch to your leg had you yelping, and his handsome face was serious when he stared back up at you, his eyes practically glowing with intensity. “I don’t need your sympathy.”

You rolled your eyes, rubbing the skin he’d pinched absentmindedly. “It wasn’t sympathy, asshole,” you said. “It was an apology for being thoughtless. Although if that’s how you’re gonna be then I take it back, geez. As if you need sympathy when every girl in this maze—” you froze, clamping your mouth shut when you realized what you’d been about to say. “Uhhhh.”

Touya’s eyes slowly slid down your face, flickering over you as another fucking obnoxious smirk started to twitch at the side of his mouth. “When every girl in this maze what?” he asked, pleasure turning his tone a little silky.

You rolled your eyes, leaning forward to grab the rubbing alcohol off of the couch so you didn’t have to look at him. “When every girl in this maze would like for you to shut up and stop asking questions,” you said, unscrewing the top with a deliberate focus.

Calloused fingers came up to yank the tube out of your grip, however, and Touya leaned in, his grin sharp and white.

“Lemme do it, sweetheart. Return the favor for my prosthetic,” he said. You winced, remembering how forcefully you’d applied his forehead earlier. As you braced yourself, however, his fingers brushed gently over your skin.

You suppressed a shiver at the feeling of him wiping off the blood with the rubbing alcohol, then going over it with the antibiotic cream, smearing it delicately, your nose going hot again. He took his time, careful to cover every inch, kneeling on the ground in front of you with your ankle clutched in one large hand. His duster fanned out behind him, dragging on the ground as he bent over you, but he didn’t seem to care, too absorbed in his task.

When he was done he carefully applied the bandage too, and you looked on, mystified, as he cracked the ice pack with long, strangely elegant fingers, and pressed it over your ankle bone as well.

His eyes flicked back to yours when you let out a short hiss, feeling the zing of the ice all the way in your teeth. Some of his expression looked squashed, given the obstruction of his prosthetic, but you thought he looked maybe just a little bit concerned, before he realized you were just being a baby. You were suddenly overcome with the urge to rip off his prosthetic so you could see his expression in full, and had to pin your arm to your side to stop yourself.

“This was—unexpected,” you admitted, watching him closely. “You’re…a surprisingly good nurse, Touya. Thank you.”

His answering smile was nothing short of wicked. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

You fumbled with the antiseptic and sniffed pointedly, just to have something to complain about. “Well. Your bedside manner could use some work.”

Touya leaned in, his smile suddenly going dark. “Oh, angel, now that’s not what I’ve been told—”

Your palm shot out to cover his mouth, horror overriding your normal brain function. Touya just laughed into the skin of your hand, however, shockingly boyish and sweet-sounding.

You pressed harder, hissing at him to shut the hell up, until you registered the feeling of dry, raised skin under your fingers. You jumped, realizing you were pressing down on his scars.

“Shit, did I hurt you—?” you asked, yanking your hand back, only for Touya to catch your wrist. He blinked, looking surprised that he had.

“No it’s—you didn’t—” he said. His fingers shifted over yours and his eyes darted over your hand in something like shock. “They get dry and pull but they don’t—it wasn’t that.” He sounded annoyed, but not that you’d touched him. That you’d pulled away from touching him.

Somehow, that settled you. Before you understood what exactly was possessing you, you reached back in, satisfied when Touya let you. The pads of your fingers met the edge of a scar again, feeling along the seam. You carefully traced over it the way Touya’s had just traced the cut on your ankle.

Touya’s eyelashes fluttered, and he let out a slow breath. “You don’t need to touch ‘em, sweetheart,” he said finally.

He said it as lightly as he’d said all his earlier nonsense, but he’d been giving you shit for long enough that you recognized there was something deliberate about the ease of his tone this time. This wasn’t his usual, natural timbre.

“Does it bother you?” you asked.

It seemed to take him a minute to decide.

“...No,” he answered, those cerulean eyes catching on yours again. You felt like you could feel your heartbeat in your own fingers, and your skin prickled with something—annoyingly not annoyance.

“Well then shut up,” you told him. “Or I’ll pinch you right on the seam.”

Touya laughed, a slow rolling sound. “Promises promises,” he said, but he seemed more relaxed.

You felt along the contours of his face, mystified by what the hell you thought you were even doing, until you reached the edge of the prosthetic you’d applied. It only took a second for you to give in to the impulse you’d had earlier and start peeling it from his skin, slow and deliberate.

You reached down and helped yourself to the rubbing alcohol, applying it around the prosthetic, letting it dissolve the adhesive before pulling gently. Shockingly, Touya let you do it. He just sat there, watching you with an intensity you’d never experienced before, hardly blinking.

You kept careful track of the prosthetic, unable to look him in the eye, focusing on rubbing off the makeup you’d used to blend it in for good measure. You tried not to examine the weirdly satisfied feeling that settled in your stomach when his natural face was visible to you again.

It was probably just his looks. He really was so handsome for such a grating personality.

You set the prosthetic aside, lost on where to go from here. Touya probably thought you were so fucking weird for just like, rubbing his face like he was some kind of cat. He certainly looked like he had no idea what to do now, which was such a departure from his usually snotty self-assurance that it threw you for an even bigger loop.

“Always thought you’d be a little rougher with me, sweetheart,” Touya finally managed, flashing you a smirk. It looked a little smaller than usual though, like he was drawing it up like a shield, but your hackles raised instantly, like always.

You always, always responded to him.

“Trust me, that can be arranged,” you promised darkly, trying to crack your knuckles. Only one of them crackled obligingly, however, and Touya blinked, before laughing again.

“Yeah?” he asked, leaning in closer. Cigarette smoke and cinnamon clouded your senses, fogging up your brain. “Gonna fuck me up nice and good, sweetheart?”

You dredged around for something snarky to say, but words were suddenly failing you as those infuriatingly pretty features drew closer. Seriously could a makeup artist not catch a break around here?

“Uhhh,” was all you managed, your brain bluescreening, as Touya huffed a laugh, exhaling over your mouth.

“Shut up,” you finally spat out, catching a fistful of that black hair. Touya groaned, however, looking like he liked that of all things, and a red hot flash of something jolted through you.

There was a pause, then, a tiny sliver of a moment where it seemed like one of you might pull back—move away and snipe at one another from a safer distance.

Things somehow seemed to be spiraling out of control, in a way you hadn’t expected, after just one kind gesture from him. You didn’t really understand how you’d suddenly found yourself with him leaning over you, your hand pulling at his hair, but if you had any good sense you’d have pulled away immediately and told him something extra mean, just for good measure.

Except then Touya opened his mouth and escalated things, as usual.

“Make me,” he said, the most absolutely heinous line of all time. You yanked his hair harder, deeply disgusted that he’d try that on you.

And then, like a thread had snapped, you leaned forward and crushed your mouth to his.

Touya reacted like a lightning strike. He surged up over you, weighing you down into the staff room couch. He tasted like spearmint muddled under bitter smoke, and he was broader than he looked under that duster, heavy with lean muscle. You could feel every kilo of it press you down into the cushions as Touya licked hot and filthy into your mouth.

His tongue curled around yours, wet and teasing, and he exhaled on a groan like he’d never tasted anything better. It sent little sparks of electricity jittering up your spine, especially as he shifted between your thighs, that trim waist slotting between them perfectly.

“Fuck, angel,” he said, his tone somewhere between sweet and nasty. “Wanted me this whole time, huh?”

You yanked harder on his hair, telling him to shut up, but the swelling of something hard against your thigh told you he only liked that more. “You are so nasty,” you told him, and you could feel his mouth curl into a wicked grin against the side of your face, before he leaned in and bit the shell of your ear, grinding the evidence of his interest even harder into your thigh.

“I can show you nasty, sweetheart,” he promised, his tone going silky-soft again. A calloused hand slid up into your shirt brazenly, long fingers teasing the underside of your bra. When you didn’t immediately try to yank him out of there he wiggled in further, until his fingers met your nipples, and he got even harder against your leg.

He pinched carefully, moving back to kiss you again so that the sound that escaped you was muffled into his mouth. He kissed you harder as your nipples tightened, pebbling in his fingers, something far too satisfied filling the air around you. His hips canted up, grinding himself into you again, this time a little closer to your core.

Your own hips shifted, moving to increase the friction, trying to shift him closer to your center. His fingers and tongue teased you, each flick of his tongue mirroring the caress of a finger, the soft pinch of his index and thumb.

You couldn’t have controlled yourself if you wanted, too focused on the sensations he was drawing from you, the desperate need to get closer to him though you were already pressed together from mouth to shin. You realized you’d been pulling at his coat when he finally withdrew from your shirt and let you yank it down his arms, exposing a patchwork of scars over dense, mouth-wateringly well-defined muscle.

You inhaled sharply, and Touya paused for a minute—until he seemed to realize that you were fixated on the shape of his arm, rather than the purple bruise of scar tissue. The quickening of his grin in the corner of your vision told you that you’d pleased him.

“You like that, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice obnoxiously sweet. “Want to see the rest of me, angel?”

You ripped your eyes off of his arm to glare at him, which only made his grin wider. The fluorescent lights behind him limned his hair in a pale light, blinding you when he moved his head—and all of a sudden you recalled where you were and what you were doing.

“Here? No! Touya, anyone could walk in!” you said, trying to scramble out from beneath him.

Touya caught you around the thigh, hauling you back underneath him. You noticed he was careful to angle your leg up so you didn’t catch your ankle against the arm of the couch.

“This is far from the worst thing I’ve done in a public place,” he said, laying himself back out over you.

You pushed at his shoulder though, casting a worried glance back at the door. “I am not trying to get fired,” you hissed, even as you shivered with the delicious heat of him over you.

Touya sighed through his nose, and then heaved himself off the couch. You watched him seize the plastic makeup chair and haul it over to the door, stuffing it under the knob at an angle so that it held the lock in place. Then he turned around and prowled right back to you with predatory intent. Your stomach fluttered.

“Better, angel?” he asked, tone soft.

You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of nodding, but he seemed to know what you wanted anyway, leaning back in to kiss you fiercely.

You melted into the feeling of his mouth over yours, kissing him back just as passionately. You hated how good he was at that, hated how pretty he was under all those scars and piercings, hated how his obnoxious personality wasn’t even a factor in what you wanted to do with him right now.

Touya groaned again when you pulled at a fistful of his dark hair, and then you were dragging him down to the couch and climbing into his lap. Touya seized your left leg as you did, pointedly guiding your ankle away from the edge of the seat, and it only inflamed your desire for him.

“Like you a whole lot better like this,” he said into your mouth, as calloused fingers slid into your leggings.

Your reply was cut off by a moan as he traced his index finger lightly over the center of your panties, before pressing down firmly over your clit. A thousand little points of electricity lit up under your skin, and you shifted into his hand unthinkingly.

A smile formed against your lips, and it was only Touya’s hand making its way into your panties that suppressed the annoyed buzz that started in the back of your brain.

“You kick up such a fuss, sweetheart, but look at what you really think of me,” Touya purred as his fingers slid up into your incriminatingly wet folds. “All this for me, angel?”

You wanted to bite him for his cheek but you feared breaking the skin of his scars, so you settled for giving him a pointed look. He just laughed, his smile smug.

“I’ll show you what I’ve really thought of you too, sweetheart,” he promised, taking hold of your leg again to slide your leggings and panties down. He settled you back over the hard line in his pants, grabbing your hips and pulling you firmly down over it, grinning.

“Love when you’re a spitfire little fucking brat. I’ve imagined taking you right over the vanity every single day for the last three years, sweetheart. Taking you against the lockers and then right here over the couch. Fucking you so hard that you scream and everyone comes running in to see you squirming and crying and begging on my cock, and you want it so much that you don’t even care—”

He laughed when he felt you clench up in his lap, working to unbuckle his belt and free himself, immediately angling you over him. “You want that too, sweetheart? Want to see if I can make you scream so loud that people come to see what’s wrong?”

“My god you never shut up,” you told him, pointedly avoiding the question. In lieu of an answer, you shifted, guiding him to your center and sinking down onto him instead. You watched with satisfaction as he threw his head back and hissed at the feeling of you slipping down around him.

“Fffffffffffuck,” he said to the ceiling, a hand tightening in your sweater. You had to agree, gritting your teeth with the delicious slide of him inside of you, hot and thick and full and perfect. You leaned in, putting your mouth over the scar tissue on his neck, smirking when he exhaled shakily again.

“I think,” Touya huffed. “I should have put you over my lap three fucking years ago.”

You thought back to your first glimpse of him, flicking ash at you as he chainsmoked outside the maze entrance, and thought you would have probably gouged his eyes out if he had tried. Honestly he’d barely scraped together enough good will with his little ankle treatment as it was.

But maybe this is what that girl had been talking about, when she said Touya didn’t talk to anyone besides you. Had he really been more into you than he’d let on, these three years? Is that why he’d been at your throat this entire time?

The thought was lost when Touya’s hips lifted into yours, grinding himself into you just right, and your head fell back with a shivery moan. Touya’s mouth found the skin of your throat and sucked as he bucked up into you, picking up into a faster pace. You rocked back and forth over his lap, guided by Touya’s grip on your hips, relishing in the feel of him inside of you.

His fingers slid back down, brushing over your clit, and you bit down a yelp as he dragged his thumb over it firmly.

“That’s it,” he said, biting down softly on your neck. “Let me hear you, sweetheart.”

You pressed a hand over your mouth instead as he slid in and out of you, those clever fingers working you deftly. He pinched softly, then swirled the pad of his thumb firmly over your clit again, groaning and pounding up into you. “I wanna hear you, sweetheart. Always want to hear your mean little mouth.”

“Touya—shut up—” you panted as he moved you how he wanted, played you like an instrument. Between his fingers and the hard press of him inside you, you felt like you couldn’t escape the pleasure, the feeling mounting within you. No matter how you moved your hips, his fingers were there to meet you, rubbing maddening circles, teasing you mercilessly, and he filled you so good that it felt like he was pressing against that spot from the inside too.

You writhed with the feel of him, as he steadily covered your neck and shoulders with marks of his attention. You couldn’t help but moan, much much louder than you would have liked, and Touya leaned back to look at you again, looking pleased.

“That’s it, yeah,” he said, another grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Louder for me, sweetheart. Want you to come for me.”

You huffed, unable to do anything but squirm in his lap, chasing the feeling closer, ever closer to the edge. You weren’t going to let his infuriating attitude ruin this for you, not when you were so close—

Without input from your brain, your hand reached out to grab a fistful of Touya’s hair again and his hips stuttered, slamming up into you with more force than he had previously. He looked a little shocked, and then a little dazed, and the grip he had on the side of your hip tightened almost to the point of bruising as he forced you down onto him harder, gasping.

“Fuck, yeah, sweetheart—fuck yes,” he rasped.

His fingers rubbed you harder, and his hips slapped up into you frantically. The uptick in intensity had your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head, and you bit your palm to keep the sounds in.

Touya ground into you with a renewed fervor, and it was only another matter of seconds before something inside of you was being wrenched loose. You lost the grip on your control, every nerve ending in your body lighting up and coming alive, singing with pleasure. You seized up, crying, “Oh my god, Touya!” and then you were cumming hard, harder than you ever had, Touya’s talented fingers still working you, his cock still fucking you mercilessly.

Touya swore, spitting out your name like a curse, and then again in almost reverent tones, before he too was following you right off the edge. He slammed you down on him once, twice, and then he was cumming too—shivering against you as he held you tight against him.

The silence of the room around you was ringing, once you managed to return to yourself. Touya was a long, hot, hard wall of muscle between your thighs, his hair mussed and a patch of makeup you’d missed smearing into the hair at his temple. His cheeks were flush with effort over the seam of his scars, and he looked, irritatingly, even more beautiful than he usually did.

Like he could sense what you were thinking, the corner of his mouth rose as those cerulean eyes searched over you, blinking like a pleased cat.

“Fuck, sweetheart. I knew I liked you mean,” he said, his raspy tone rougher than normal.

“And I don’t like you at all,” you sniffed, though you knew the protest was pointless when he was quite literally softening inside of you. You let go of his hair, remembering yourself.

“Aww angel don’t be like that,” he drawled, his grin widening. He leaned in, pressing a slow kiss over your mouth. “I can make it up to you—all three years, if you’ll let me.”

You knew he felt your involuntary shiver, pressed up against you like he was. And that was definitely answer enough for him, as his smile went more handsome and boyish than you’d ever seen it. You hated that you liked it.

“I’ll clean up and clock out,” Touya told you, gingerly helping you off of him and back into your leggings, his eyes fixating a little too closely on your legs as you did so. “You tell your friends you’re gonna go home and rest that ankle. And I’ll pick you up out front, angel.”

You flushed, embarrassed that you’d completely forgotten that you were at work, and you’d intended to go out bar hopping after. But you figured you could be forgiven just this one time.

“Fine,” you said, though your insides were feeling a little fluttery at the thought of leaving with Touya. “But I expect penitence or there’s going to be a reckoning.” You supposed you were owed, for all these years of suffering.

Touya looked down at you from under his lashes, dark and beautiful and still as infuriating as ever. “I’ll give you my best, sweetheart. Over and over until you can’t even walk,” he promised, “Gotta keep you off that ankle, after all.”

You flushed again, yanking your sweater down over your leggings, and fled out the door. Touya’s laughter floated after you, sounding pleased.

You sped up your pace, your ears burning.

And if you were actually rushing not to get away from him, but to return to him sooner? Well, then, nobody needed to know that but you.

[xxsabitoxx]

xxSabitoxx Imagines/Drabbles Masterlist

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Updated Aug.12th 2023

Awkward Encounter | Gyutaro x AFAB Reader | FLUFF/SUGGESTIVE 

Play Fight | Shinobu x AFAB Reader | SUGGESTIVE 

Shit Talker | Sanemi x GN Reader | SMUT

Sanemi Falls In Love For The First Time | Sanemi x GN Reader | FLUFF

Rengoku Falls In Love For The First Time | Rengoku x GN Reader | FLUFF

Plush | Rengoku x Tengen x Wives x Reader | FLUFF/SMUT

Take it and Shut Up | Megumi x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Stay Still | Sukuna x AFAB Reader | SMUT 

Attention Please! | Tengen x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Caught in the Rain | Tengen x AFAB Reader | SMUT 

Earn It | Shinobu x AFAB Reader | SMUT

First | Nobara x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Just For You | Inumaki x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Seven Minutes in Heaven | Giyu x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Seven Minutes in Heaven | Itadori x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Referring to Them as a “friend”| Giyu, Rengoku, Sanemi | NO SET GENRE 

Dating Okkotsu Yuta | Yuta x GN Reader | FLUFF/SMUT

JJK and Your Habit of being Topless | JJK Characters x AFAB Reader | NO SET GENRE 

Dating Rengoku (Modern AU) | Rengoku x GN Reader | FLUFF/SMUT/ANGST

Mornings with Sanemi | Sanemi x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Singer Shinobu | Singer Shinobu x AFAB Shy Reader | FLUFF/SMUT

Bathing with Giyu | Giyu x GN Reader | NO SET GENRE 

Gojo & Geto Fighting for your Attention | Gojo & Geto x GN Reader | NO SET GENRE 

Childhood Friends | Megumi x AFAB Reader | FLUFF

Winning His Heart | Akaza x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Dramatic Megumi | Megumi x AFAB Reader | FLUFF 

His Favorite | Douma & Reader | NO SET GENRE 

Irresistible | Akaza x AFAB Reader | SMUT 

His Personal Assistant | Hawks x AFAB Reader | NO SET GENRE

First Love | Kakyoin x AFAB Reader | FLUFF

No Escaping | Sukuna x AFAB Reader | SMUT

A Guiding Hand | Rengoku x NB Reader | SMUT

Tempest | Sanemi x AFAB Demon Reader | MILD DEAD DOVE /SMUT

Cravings | Sanemi x AFAB Pregnant Reader | FLUFF

The Fourth Wife | Tengen & Wives x AFAB Reader | NO SET GENRE

Mornings with Makio | Makio x AFAB Reader | NO SET GENRE

Mornings with Hinatsuru | Hina x AFAB Reader | NO SET GENRE

Mornings with Suma | Suma x AFAB Reader | NO SET GENRE

Smile | Megumi x AFAB Reader | SMUT

I Hate Him | Sanemi x AFAB Reader | FLUFF

Uzui Gang & Public Tension | Tengen x Wives x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Tengen & His Husband | Tengen x AMAB Reader | FLUFF/SUGGESTIVE

Reward | Muzan x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Loosen Up | Sanemi x Giyu x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Team Bucciarati & Walking in on you Changing | Bucci Gang x AFAB Reader | NO SET GENRE

College Roommates Shinobu | Shinobu x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Easy | Douma x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Cut | Aki x AFAB Reader | NO SET GENRE

Needy | Geto x AFAB Reader | SMUT

I Want a Baby | Tengen x AFAB Reader | FLUFF/SMUT

Experience | Kishibe x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Promise Me | Giyu x GN Reader | ANGST

Being Sanemi’s Tsugoku | Sanemi x AFAB Reader | NO SET GENRE

Sanemi at the Butterfly Estate  | Sanemi x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Secret Relationship | Sanemi x AFAB Reader | FLUFF

Sanemi being Vocal | Sanemi x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Exploring with Sanemi | Sanemi x AFAB Reader | CRACK/FLUFF

Dating Dabi | Dabi x AFAB Reader | NO SET GENRE

Sanemi and his Newborn | Sanemi x AFAB Reader | NO SET GENRE

Urogi’s Sensitive Wings | Urogi x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Personal Heater | Rengoku x AFAB Reader | NO SET GENRE

Sensitive Aizetzu | Aizetsu x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Rengoku’s Nurse | Rengoku x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Twenty One | Rengoku x GN Reader | FLUFF/ANGST

Tengen and your Panties | Tengen x AFAB Reader | SUGGESTIVE 

Kyojuro and his Newborn | Rengoku x AFAB Reader | FLUFF

Drunk Giyu | Giyu x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Drunk Tengen | Tengen x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Drunk Kyojuro | Rengoku x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Pissing off Sanemi | Sanemi x AFAB Reader | SUGGESTIVE 

Recoil | Haganezuka x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Meeting the Rengoku Family | Rengoku x GN Reader | FLUFF

Stalker Giyu | Giyu x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Pride Month Imagines | Tengen | Shinobu | Rengoku & Giyu

Pull Out | Rengoku x AFAB Reader | SMUT w/concerning themes 

Lecture | Rengoku x AFAB Kocho Sister Reader | SUGGESTIVE/CRACK

Keeping Secrets | Giyu x AFAB Wife Reader | FLUFF

Never Mine | Geto x GN Reader | SMUT?/ANGST

Pheromone Perfume | Sanemi x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Guard Dogs | Satoru + Suguru x GN Reader | NO SET GENRE

Competition 15k special | Sanemi x Giyu x AFAB Reader | SMUT

Karoke 15k special | Satoru x Suguru x AFAB Reader | SMUT

[stardust-sprinkler]

“Bad Boy Who’s Always Good to His Girl~” Part 2

Dating College!Touya

Here’s some tooth-rottingly sweet Touya x reader. Enjoy!

• When he tells you he’s gonna start going by Dabi—says he’s cutting his family off—he doesn’t expect you to say more than the “Okay, babe” that you offer up. You knew enough to get why he was severing ties. He actually loves that you’ve never pried or pressed him for any information about his family that he didn’t disclose of his own volition.

• But the fact that you’re typically more vocal in your support inexplicably makes his chest hurt a little this time. A tiny voice inside him seems to be seeking some validation in his decision, some confirmation that it’s gonna be okay—because the only person that matters is going to be staying. He silences it, shoves it deep down further until he can’t hear it anymore.

• But when you meet up after his last class the very next day, you show him something that makes him stand there in shock. You pull up your sleeve to show off a new tattoo; you’ve already got his new name on your inner wrist, central to a faux bracelet. “Skipped some classes today, it couldn’t wait, I was too excited.” He quickly pulls you into a hug that presses your head against his chest, but not before you catch a split-second glimpse of wetness in his eyes. It’s the most emotional you’ve ever seen him, but you’ll never comment on it.

• With the amount that you two fuck (which is constantly), it’s not like you’ve never had slow sex… But when you’re in bed together that night, he seems to take his time on every part of you, unhurried in his worship. And his lips are feather soft when he kisses the wrap covering the inside of your wrist. This time, it’s you blinking away tears. He doesn’t comment on it either. Not beyond quiet whispers of your name.

• He’s sure that you make up for all the bad luck in his life.

Bonus: The first time you help him dye his hair, you’re sorely tempted to secretly swap the black box color to like a vibrant purple or green—it would just show up so easily on his naturally white hair.

He catches you eyeing the other colors, then sighs and grabs a few. The surprised, delighted sound that comes from you makes it impossible for him to stamp down an exasperated smile.

Idiot.

Follow for more College!Dabi hcs, asks are open 📖

[ectologia]

BEAUTIFUL IS BORING

TOMURA SHIGARAKI, TŌYA TODOROKI (DABI), KEIGO TAKAMI X FEMALE READER

CONTENT ♱ COLLEGE AU, QUIRKLESS AU, PROFANITY, MISOGYNY, DRUGS, SEXUAL ASSAULT (DABI ON TOMURA), BULLYING, PUBLIC MASTURBATION, MALE MASTURBATION

THIS IS AN UNFINISHED PROJECT, AND PROBABLY WILL NEVER BE FINISHED but here it is anyway ;p

“Can I sit here?”

“I dunno’ can you?”

You draw back at his harsh tone and grating voice. He glares at you with the hint of a smile playing on his chapped lips. He was a peculiar looking fellow. His skin was pale enough to appear almost translucent like moonstone, while his hair sat a muted blue of kinked wave’s across his forehead and partly down his neck just reaching his shoulders, it would be easy to mistake him as albino if it weren’t for his leaden brows and eyelashes. His attire, bland, a black hoodie dusted in lint and white hair, his jeans sported the same but with ominous white stains sat flaking on the denim fibres.

You recollect yourself. “That’s my seat.” You gesture to the chair bowed beneath his tattered sneakers.

“You think?” He places his feet back on the ground with a simper, allowing you to settle down.

You catch how he scoffs at your colourfull stationery, murmuring something about “Women.”

“Why the fuck are you so close?” He hisses, scooting his chair to the left. You turn to him with your mouth agape, preparing to challenge his accusation with a remark of your own before the abrupt slam of a door has you both snapping your heads up to the front.

“Late again, Mr. Todoroki” Your teacher emits a long, audible breath as he pinches the bridge of his nose, turning to his computer.

“Traffic was bad.” He snickers feigning an apologetic pout as he greets a blond man sat at the front, grasping his fist in a tight hug and clapping him on the back while they laugh obnoxiously.

His hair, although dishevelled, glossed in a velvety palette of stygian, the thick locks dancing like silk ribbons against the light as he bounces. His skin is decorated in swirls of black, the tantalising illustrations streaming from his jaw, down to his neck and across his arms, sleeving him in a coat of ink. The contrast of the man’s overcast appearance pales in comparison to the bewitching cerulean of his eyes, placed amongst his pierced metal features.

You find yourself gazing at the man for an exceedingly long while as he saunters to his desk, slumping down into his chair with spread knees.

Shigaraki glowers at your shameless ogling, muttering complaints.

You ignore his mumbling, instead turning to him with a keen interest. “Who is he?”

He groans at your curiosity, turning back to face the front without responding.

“Hey, who is he?” You persist, leaning over the desk to garner his attention. From this angle, you’re able to behold every inch of his features. You notice the swathes of scarlet and flaking skin along the path of his neck and surprisingly angular jaw.

He glances to the side at your hovering form. From this angle, he notices just how your plush tits spill over the rim of the desk as you curl over it, the pliant flesh moulding and squashing as you stir.

His tongue writhes in his mouth, licking over his teeth before speaking. “Dabi.” He has to refrain from visibly recoiling, not only from how you beam at the information, but at the contemptibly stomach-churning taste of his name.

You turn back to the man in questionon, brilliant half-lidded sapphires hypnotising you. He licks his lips, the metal ball of his piercing clinking as he sends an intoxicating smirk your way. You watch as he leans over to his flaxen companion, the two conversing as their eyes flicker in your direction.

“Who’s the blond?” You ask, your eyes locked on the two.

“Keigo.”

The curt answer satisfies you. You take one last look before holding up your pen, a playful smile hidden beneath your hand. Shigaraki sees this, livid at your display before speaking once again. “I’de stay away from him, if I were you.” He trails of by the last few words.

“Who?”

“Both of ‘em.”

He takes his pen back up, turning away after his ominous declaration.

“Why?” You push, intrigued by his distinct contempt towards the two men.

He doesn’t answer. Collecting his belongings, he chucks his books haphazardly into his shoddy backpack before tossing it over his shoulder. “Just stay away from them.” He leaves you bewildered as you watch him filter through the crowded exit of the classroom, the group of students parting through the middle for him as if he were a disease ridden mongrel, his static waves flouncing against his face as he shoulders past the cluster of frowning pupils.

A cold sweat accumulates on the small of Tomura’s back. Travelling down across his taint and underneath his heavy ballsack as he pumps himself feverishly — stimulation his tip with his thumb and two forefingers, massaging the swollen glands as he humps the air. The subtle, wet fap of his cock echoes within the stall he had chosen to lock himself in. Chucking his head back, intoxicated by the pleasure. He braces himself, planting his feet on the tiled floor of the bathroom as his hips speed up, stuffing his chubby dick into his palm, fisting the overstimulated appendage to climax. “Oh shit, shit, shit, shit, shit..” He was entranced, spell-bound by you. The image of your glossy doe-eyes curtained by your long black lashes set on him, how you leant over the desk — how your fat tits practically spilled over onto his paper as you spoke to him, how you smiled at Dabi. He wanted it all to himself.

If it wasn’t clear, Tomura was not exactly popular, let alone with the ladies. You were the first ever female in his life time at this shit-hole of a school to actually give him the time of day, and not just to glare and snicker at his appearance and disturbed demeanour. He wanted more. He wanted you, dangerously.

He pleads to nobody, the hem of his hoodie clamped between his teeth while his jeans are shimmied to his mid thigh. Normally when he’d choose to masturbate in public he’d only ever expose himself as much as necessary, pulling his hardened cock out from the slit of his zipper to pump himself.

He couldn’t risk blowing his load all over the place, but then again..

“Come on, come on. Cum. Cum.” He chants to himself in a frenzy as though he was motivating the arrival of his orgasm, one harsh stroke after another.

“Yo! Tomura!”

The harsh crash of a fist swinging against the flimsy door startles Tomura, the abrupt spike of adrenaline causing ropes of milky white shooting from his puckered slit across his lap, squirting onto the floor. He grasps onto the side of the toilet seat, hitting it for relief as he twitches in a disturbed state of orgasmic euphoria. Squeezing his eyes shut as he grinds his teeth into the cloth of his hoodie.

“Stop jerking off your little pencil maggot and get out here.” Tomura flinches at the husky voice of the man stood outside, no doubt with his vexing accomplice.

He quickly tucks his softening member into his boxers, zipping his jeans up over the pudgy bulge of his cock and balls while he clumsily slips and slides in his own semen, the rubber sole of his sneakers squeaking in the slippery mess.

“Tomur—aaaa.. come out, come out.” Keigo sing songs, joining Dabi in his endeavour to beat the bathroom door down before Tomura has a chance to open it.

“Fuck, just a wait a second you pricks, I’m coming!” Tomura growls, cringing at the milky sheen coating his fingers as he mops the floor clean with the cheap, school grade toilet paper hung from the wall.

Dabi and Keigo halt in their ministrations, turning to each other with equally foul grins as they chuckle to themselves at his miscommunication.

“Yeah, I bet you are.” Dabi sniggers.

Tomura groans, roughly swinging the bathroom door open, missing Keigo by an inch as he jumps back, curling his brows. He shoulders past the two, his nose wrinkled in discomfort after having his orgasm ruined. He makes no effort to acknowledge either of them as he looms over the sink, scrubbing at his hands beneath the tepid stream of water. His eyes flicker up to meet Dabi’s fiendish stare, flinching as he sees a tattooed hand raise from his side.

“So..”

“You got the stuff?”

A heavy arm slings itself around Tomura’s boney shoulders, jostling his frail body side to side. Keigo stalks nearer to the scene with an equally hedonistic smirk plastered across his handsome face.

“Yeah, yeah. Just gimme’ a second, fuck.” Dabi is shrugged off as Tomura rummages through the adjacent slot of his backpack, carefully pulling out a miniature zip-lock bag stuffed with a snowy white dust.

“Holy shit.” The plastic is swiped out of Tomura’s pinched fingers instantly. Keigo raises it in the air, squinting at the powder through the rays of artificial white light.

While Dabi leaves Keigo to his drug-addicted, junkie shenanigans, he saunters closer to Tomura’s hunched form, staring at him through slitted eyes.

Tomura shifts under his scrutinising gaze. “What?”

“Who’s your new girlfriend then, Shiggy?”

“What?”

He sounds like a broken record.

Dabi chuckles, popping the joints in his fingers. “Don’t play dumb with me, Shigs.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, I don’t even know the bitch.”

Keigo appears on the scene like clock work, weaselling himself in next to Dabi, still clutching the non licet packet in his fist. “Woah, Tomura finally got a girlfriend?” He claps him on the back, a little to roughly for his liking as he’s almost sent forward on his feet. “Congrats man! I always knew it’d happen one day.” Keigo grins. “Now you can stop fuckin’ your fist ev—”

“She’s not my fucking girlfriend!” A set of crooked fingers raise to claw at his slender neck.

“Ah, we’re just messing with ya’ Shigs.” Dabi exhales. “But she’s pretty cute, no? Nice tits.”

Tomura grumbles and huffs under his breath, slowly sinking into the cotton of his hoodie. “I don’t care..”

“Sure ya’ do.” Keigo hovers in-front of him like a pesky fly while Dabi shadows him from behind, hooking to thick forearms underneath his.

“Bet’cha dicks all hard just thinking about it.” The two howl with boyish laughter as a tattooed hand comes down to squeeze Tomura’s bulge, jiggling the sizeable package in his palm.

Tomura thrashes in his hold. “Fuck off!”

The moment Dabi retracts, he’s cupping his crotch defensively. “Prick.”

By time Tomura’s managed to cool himself down from the direct assault, both men are slinking out of the bathroom with a curt flick of Dabi’s wrist.

“See ya, Shigs.”

Dabi stops in his tracks, allowing Keigo to glide past. “And don’t go talkin’ to any bitches without my permission, yeah?”

The way his figure slumps into the seat with a zealous glide has you perking.

“How come you’re so hap—”

The mismatch of red to yellow has you frowning.

“Hey, there.” Keigo props an elbow onto the desk, and with that, a chin in his palm, sleazing a lop-sided smile.

“Oh. It’s you.” You twirl and twist your pen in between your fingers.

His tongue darts out to wet the rosy, plumpness of his lips. “Disappointed?” Golden eyes squint at you from the creases of his seemingly never-ending grin.

“No, I—”

He shifts closer with a chuckle. “Excited?”

The corners of your mouth quirk up into a curt smile at his incessancy. “I’m not supposed to talk to you.”

He cocks his head like a raptor.

“According to who?”

The way you drift, scanning your surroundings as you attempt to think up a valid answer has his brows slanting.

“Come on, I ain’t gonna’ bite ya.” He leans forward, spidering a hand across the spine of your chair. “Unless you’re into that kinda’ thing.”

Warmth prickles the surface of your cheeks at his bold innuendo and proximity.

You can’t help but admit it makes you feel hot under the collar, being practically cornered and squished and squeezed between the ridge of your desk and Keigo’s pumped, muscular arms snaking around your back.

You’re unaccustomed to the scent of heavy sandalwood and spice. You’ve been sat next to Tomura in this god-forsaken class room for so long. You forgot what it’s like to be in the space, in the company, of a real man. A handsome man, a good-looking, charming, athletic, lady’s kind of man.

You trace his sharp features, where an exotic, smooth tropical caramel replaces rough, pale milky-white skin. Where sunset streaks of thick, flaxen copper and wheat replace threaded, creeping white tresses of silver locks. And slitted, rusted golds of pooling honey over-shadow deep, blood-red crimson rubies.

He’s handsome, that’s a given. He probably has women of all ages fawning, falling, tripping all over him. Begging to be taken out on a date just to be seen with him, or at the very least, to suck on his cock, for that teensy bit of stardom.

But he’s definitely not him.

“Get out of my seat.”

Two sets of eyes snap up to address the raspy croak. Shifting to meet Tomura’s stoic gaze.

“Oh, hey there Shiggy.” Keigo’s still smiling with those pearly white teeth, even making a point to slouch back even further into Tomura’s chair. “How’ve you been? I was just talk to your g—”

“I don’t care. Move.”

Keigo’s expression is unwavering, despite the sudden gloom that creeps behind his eerie grin like a dark storm-cloud.

“Now.”

Keigo unravels his crossed legs and leaps from his position within two beats, tutting.

“Sure thing, buddy.” A lazy hand rests atop the frail bones of Tomura’s shoulder, gripping and digging into the delicate surface. His petalled lips move to whisper into Tomura’s ear with a hushed growl. “Was just keeping it warm for ya.”

Tomura rolls the balled joint, shaking Keigo’s clawed hand off of him before collapsing into the chair with an incoherent grumble

“Hi, Tomura.”

“What?”

You click your tongue at his shifty antics, opting to turn back to the front.

“Why were you talking to him?”

“I wasn’t, he came ov—”

He scoffs, not even sparing you a second glance. “I told you to stay away from him.”

“Yeah, but I—”

“Just don’t talk to him. Or Dabi, they’re bad.”

“Bad, how?”

“They’ll hurt you.”

“And how do you know?”

The way his boney fingers tangle themselves into the cotton of his hood has you frowning “I just do.”

You find it best to just leave it there, as is. “How come come you’re late?” The way you cock your head has him feeling queasy.

“None of your fuckin’ business.” He grunts, adjusting the pudge of his crotch before folding his arms against his stomach and sinking down into his seat, the length of his spread legs completely encompassing the space beneath the desk.

You’re addled by how large he really is in comparison. Were is thighs always that thick, or had his pants just shrunk? He never takes his hoodies off so you’re in the dark about what kind of big, bulging muscles he could have under there. All it takes is a quick glance to your right to notice those veiny bear paws gripping his pen for dear life. His fingers are lithe and crooked, like they’d been broken again and again, whereas his knuckles were bruised all the same. A wall puncher perhaps? You already knew he had a bit of a temper.

UNFINISHED.

[theloveinc]

if i didn't care (more than words can say) - a dabi / touya todoroki x reader fanfiction—NO QUIRK!college-ish!AU

wc: 7.3k — my longest to date :')

sum: a beautiful but notorious shadow keeps following you home. over the course of some weeks, you eventually get to know him.

a/n: more than anything, this is really just a huge ode to my hatred of graduate school, though since the start of writing this, i admit it has gotten a lot better—hence there being a mixture of characters and ocs included. i don't think i was able to nail this exactly the way i envisioned, in clarity and thematically (and it's wordy as all hell)... but i am still delighted by this concept. i hope it tickles you, as well!

a MAJOR thank you to my beloved @weird-dere-writes for beta-ing this! twyla is a a real one whom i adore like the shining sun.

warning: lighthearted in spirit but DARK CONTENT! features stalking, physical assault and mentions of sexual assault, miscommunication, suicidal ideation, talk of death, gore + general sense of unhappiness/unease. gender neutral but some of the pet names include: pretty, sweetheart, lollipop, cookie, hon, baby + etc., also I think you might have a purse?, HAPPY END!

(read on ao3 - coming soon!)

title credit goes to the ink spots.

enjoy!

The sun has just barely set by the time you leave your final class of the day. Fog seeps from over the distant hills that surround your city, subway tracks murmur from underneath the thick concrete, and car high beams yellow in the fading light of the sun and slate blue sky. 

Your classmates—those who have all left the lecture hall before you to give each other rides home—laugh, their voices echoing throughout the campus plaza as they disperse; the last students of the night to begin their trek home, down the hill that is your campus, and far, far away from you. 

You don’t mind. 

…or you tell yourself, at least. 

Your walk home is pleasant enough, not so close that it doesn’t feel like a trip worth making, not so far that it feels like you’re a freshman again, tearing out of class just to run to catch the bus in time. It’s the perfect temperature where walking is comfortable, and if timing allows, you’ll get to enjoy the sunset as you go. Maybe today you’ll see the funny looking tuxedo cat that stares at you sometimes from the ground floor apartment window of one of your neighbors; you only recently found out that they have a little tortoiseshell, too. 

Besides, while it’s not as though you enjoy your time alone any more than you enjoy anything else in life, home has become a sort of sanctuary, the trip to-and-from, a ritual, from school and the tension that sears your nerves on a daily basis. You still can’t help but wonder why it is that you’re only ever regarded by other students with hateful looks or by plain being ignored, sitting in the front corner of every classroom, freezing from both the weather's cooling breeze and the fact everyone just happened to ice you out by sitting in the back. 

It's no surprise that nor can you ignore it, either.

For as much as you try, which is almost as often as you open your eyes in the morning, you simply haven’t succeeded. Hence why, with the cold air nipping at your cheeks and your fingers numbing from a chill you know will only get worse the longer you stay outside… you suppose you should finally start heading back, too.  

-

You notice them first when you stop to adjust a faulty earbud. 

A figure behind you that stops. Waits. Lingers. More than a block away, under the newly darkened sky and opaque clouds. A street light illuminates their body as they appear to dawdle; awkwardly hovering about a pole, staring at something you don’t see on the ground, trotting a couple steps, and then looking up at the sky.

You glance at them, the way one glances, with one hand pressed to your ear, the other gripping the strap of your bag tightly as you turn your head ever so slightly to look out of the corner of your eye and pray the movement isn’t noticed. 

The figure, of course, freezes–like it’s not obvious, like it’s possible you won’t pick up on the sudden shift from dance to pause, autonomous to marionette, breath to stone. You can’t make out much about them aside from their long, dark clothing as their face is hidden by dark glasses and a hood, but when your stomach knots with something sour, nerves that twist and scream, you know nothing good will come from standing around and waiting to find out anything more. 

You let your eyes shift back to the paved street in front of you slowly, as if you just found yourself caught up in the frustration of skippy music. Then, you start walking again, hoping it was all just some coincidence, illusion, pretending that if you were to look back, the figure would have since simply turned the corner and left you behind, like most people almost always seem to do. 

But you look again. Peek, from the corner of your eye, briefly, like you normally would when no one is there and you just want to make sure… but this time, someone is, and by the time you really catch sight of them (closer now, like they were walking fast, jogging maybe, red light, green light), you don’t want to draw any more attention to yourself and turn back before you can make things any worse. 

Your heart beats. Your breath shudders. You flex your fingers where they’re held, stiff with terror, wondering: is this really happening? What should I do? Am I crazy? 

It’s five more blocks until your house. Three stop signs, then two traffic lights. One liquor store, and an empty cafe that has already closed for the day, filled with stacked chairs and little mice you sometimes catch scuttling by the edge of the curb. You live by a school, but since it’s already dark, there will maybe be a total of four cars that pass you by. Maybe. Then there’s a trek up a short hill before you finally reach your street. 

You wonder, not once slowing your step, if this is something you need to be worried about, if you’re really being stalked like you’ve always been warned of before, if anyone would even care if you didn’t show up to class tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that… and then, despite the whisper of your unconscious telling you not to be so self-involved, no one wants you, anyway, you increase your step. You want to look back, confirm what you think is happening, face a fight you don’t think is fair but haven’t yet decided whether or not you want to win.

But you don’t, thinking you can almost hear their footsteps now, though maybe you’re just confusing them for the wild thump, thump, thump of your heart and the catches of your breath. And when you check back, they’re half a block away but feel closer than ever, eyes on you and hands halfway around your throat though they’re still hidden deep in their pockets. 

You feel a little like hurling, a bit more like giving up and letting them have you (though you’ve only ever written a suicide note, never a will)... but the creature of fear in you ends up prevailing, throwing it’s tentacles up through your gullet into your brain and dragging you into the depths… just as you say a prayer for the first, or any, god willing to listen. 

And then you start running.

Heft your bag over your shoulder, suck in an icy breath and charge forward into the night, past the three stop signs and through the red of each stop light that blares at you, really the only thing that seems to acknowledge you as you refuse to waste any time looking back. 

Self preservation is one hell of a drug, you only manage to briefly think in between gulps of air, your cheeks stinging with the breeze and your feet beginning to grate and blister against the friction of shoes that aren’t meant for running. You figure at this point you’re more likely to trip and crack your skull open on the pavement than be caught and dragged away by some freak with a violent agenda. Would that really be so bad? 

But your answer quickly arrives in the form of making it home and climbing the stairs so fast you manage to forget the thought entirely, along with most of the rest of the world aside from the few people you come up with (and proceed to scratch out) when determining who, if there's anyone, you can call for help.

It's inside, silent and alone in the dark, you try to process what just occurred for so long that eventually your roommate comes home from their shift at the bar. It’s only at their surprise from seeing you still awake (ghostlike, on the couch) that you realize hours have passed in the span of what felt like only seconds, minutes, the metronome of a few steps home–and that you hadn’t actually processed anything at all. 

You go to bed that night, not having eaten but not hungry, still feeling the phantom sensations of your bounding footsteps on hard concrete, cold sweat sliding down the slant of your neck, and the feeling of a man just inches from your putting his hands on your back. 

-

The next day during lecture, you are awoken from a hazy daydream by a notification on your phone.

Campus Creeper Found Passed Out in Uni Plaza. 

You blink, exhausted after an adrenaline crash made worse by your night of haunted sleep, eventual overheating, and your roommate taking a shower at four am. You were happy to even drag yourself out of bed this morning and make coffee just tolerable enough not to spit out all over your kitchen floors. 

Local man, you read after clicking, deemed the “campus creeper,” was found passed out on the Student Union steps early this morning. Identified by a member of student patrol at Mustafu University, the man’s name has yet to be released to the public as it appeared he was suffering from a number of wounds, mostly external. 

Despite condition, students have taken to social media to express their relief, as the man has reportedly been following students—

You stop reading, having hardly even processed the words, really, as you try to shake off the fog that keeps you from really understanding what the words are telling you. 

A tightness settles in your stomach, heavy and painful with a nausea you can’t shake, a question you don’t yet realize: is this the same person, same man, who scared you half to death last night by trailing you all the way home? It’s unclear from the article, the timing, the picture with his blurred out features… and the fact that he must've been dragged all the way back up to school because he was found nowhere near your home. 

While you assume you’ll be more excited once the new sinks in and the nerves turn to consolation (and the person to your left stops chattering into the ear of the person sat behind you), you can’t help but shoot to your feet and run to the closest bathroom in a panic, trying not to hyperventilate looking at yourself in the mirror in between splashing water on your face. 

-

The day has once again fallen into night. Your bag is heavy with the weight of books and pens and your schedule notepad that has all your plans for the rest of the week and even the month beyond that. Today, however, the clouds don’t creep and instead, you see stars, maybe only a handful or so, one airplane too, as the sun descends in a tender calm and the windchill greets your cheeks once more. 

You walk, out of class and down the ancient steps of the building, start descending the hill down to the first busy intersection of streetlights where the president of your school was once hit by a car. 

It’s not three blocks into the way home, however, that a shadow appears once more. Distantly, though you’re sure it’s calculated enough so as not to ring as intentional no matter how much you know it is, and can feel it in your bones. 

You thought he had been caught. The creeper. 

You hadn’t realized you were so relieved by the thought. It slipped your mind, the celebration over as quick as it started under the weight of all your schoolwork and the dirty looks your classmates sent you after you came back from dry heaving into the bathroom sink. Maybe it was a different guy they caught, you wonder, then kick yourself for being so naive as to think that maybe you’d been spared. 

Of course not, you think. It’s never that easy, is it? 

Panic once again bubbles up in your throat, anxiety pooling in your stomach like something hot melting through stone, and tears start to sting at the center of your eyes. You do your best to ward away the urge to collapse, instead trying to focus on the fact that everything was fine yesterday and tonight’s just another dream you’ll wake up from again tomorrow…though by now you know it’s not. 

It is easier, this time, however, to begin to run, to bounce on your feet with a purpose you hope isn’t any more transparent than your fear. You’re happy that today you managed to pack light, skipped filling up your water bottle, and happened to put on your sneakers instead of your slip-ons, as if you didn’t spend half of your entire morning trying to convince yourself that potentially saving your own life was a good thing.

By the time you make it to the door, chest heaving with a wheezing heat as your hand shakes the key into the padlock, when you turn back to look one final time before ducking inside, still gasping for air, the shadow is no longer behind you. 

-

The creeper is getting braver, you notice. 

It has been weeks since the shadow appeared and the following began. One week of that same distant trailing which had you sprinting like some sort of track star, two weeks of running only the last block home, locking every single bolt on your door (then unlocking when it was time to let your roommate in), and three in total of squinting behind you in stinted moments and wondering what you see. 

You think his hair is white. 

Now though, tonight, he stays not a block or two behind you but rather, less than fifty feet. You can make him out—see now the faded black of his jeans and the red of his chuck taylors, dirty. He’s young-ish, you think, more noticeable than before, and skinnier–though maybe your eyesight has just gotten worse, or the memories have faded in trying to spare you from another trauma, maybe even from awakening any of the first ones.  

You wonder how he was able to speed up, where he was waiting for you, where he came from that first night, the second, and now. And you wonder why you’ve stopped running as fast, even if you’ve been trying to leave campus earlier and earlier as if that will keep you any safer from walking home at night. 

(You had remained after class one night to ask your professor a question you no longer remember, and a wispy haired girl sneered at you so badly you ended up weeping on your way out the door. Not only did it kill your urge to ever stay longer on campus than you needed to, it also caused a wane to your desire to even arrive home at all). 

-

One day, the creeper catches up. 

Reaches, like he’d be able to touch you, smiles, like his canines are sharp enough to chew through you…hopefully in one bite if he was even able to swallow that much. Maybe he is. 

But you swat back when he does. Hoist your bag in close. Glare over your shoulder. Then speed up, and your lungs tighten into stone almost immediately when he speaks.  

“Hey—” 

“Get the fuck,” you screech, turning back just enough to say the words despite not knowing if you’d even be brave enough to let them out, to get away unscathed, “away from me!”

The shadow, however, instead of shrinking into disparagement like you so hoped… laughs, skipping towards you, laces flying, smiling wide. 

“Aw, c’mon,” he jeers, to which you wince as you try to stomp away from his pull. That is, in between your attempts at keeping your eyes on him so that he doesn’t pull anything else fast, or deadly. 

“I swear to fucking god. I will call the cops.” 

Another laugh, his footsteps now lighter, his voice switching to something airy and cool.

“Don’t be like that, pretty.” 

You barely look, but you see a flash of red as he kicks out his foot, the curl of a grin pulling one side of his lips lopsided as he lazily trots to match your hurried pace. 

You want to start running, to disappear, dissolve—anything to stop things from developing further into a conversation and your possible demise—but he catches up to you again before you can even try to skirt away in any direction other than forward. 

“You noticed quicker than I thought you would,” he almost hums, the words exposing the soft, pink tissue of his gums. “‘didn’t think you would.” 

There is a question in his statement, though his voice doesn’t lilt and only his eyebrows give it away, quirking, stretching, falling, the piercing on his left one along with it, when you slow down (hardly, still breathing rough and nervous, not wanting to look) but don’t respond. 

“Most people…” he shakes his head, “eh.”  

“What?” you stop your stride, more out of surprise than want, and stare at him despite how distinctly you avoid catching his eyes. “Like people don’t know when they’re being followed?” 

“Nah,” he says, his mouth remaining open after, humorously, like you’re supposed to get the joke, think it’s cool, that he’s a zombie, maybe. Something. “Like I thought you wouldn’t care.”

You cross your arms, blink at the ground in trying to hide what is most likely a stupid looking pout in your failing attempt to get hot and angry. You shouldn’t even be speaking. “I care when creepy people follow me.” 

He laughs again, raspy and free. “It’s been weeks.” 

You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of looking at him, but you look at him anyway. Truly focus on the mop of messy white and black streaked hair atop his head, the stained, canvas jacket with extra pockets and copper zippers, and his smile; the delicate, creased skin of his jaw that fades smoothly up his cheeks and down his neck. He isn’t bare of a good amount of piercings, either: he’s got all sorts metal in his ears, nose, and dimples, as far as you can tell by simply looking at him

He’s not really all that creepy-looking after all. To your surprise (and slight disgust), in fact, you find he’s somewhat… handsome.  

You swallow. 

“It’s been three.”

“Hm, baby?” 

You tense, the claws returning, this time aiming for your heart, shredding it open, every insecurity lighting aflame when he smiles that smile again. 

“Three weeks. That’s how long you’ve been stalking me,” you say.

There’s a pause, a shift, something you don’t catch and can hardly read. Then, he rolls his eyes, shoving his white knuckled fingers into the pockets of his coat. He doesn’t move otherwise, doesn’t even look angry, or as though he’s going to take any steps backwards or forward, and not like he’s going to lunge at you as if you’re prey and there’s an animal in him that he’s already promised food.

You feel otherwise, though he shakes his head with a ‘tsk. “I’d say stalking is a little harsh.” 

You’re not sure why you object, “But–” 

“I don’t stare into your window,” he taunts, “don’t have your number, don’t send you stupid love poems every night and every morning that say,‘I love you, be mine!’” He pretends to sing-song, 

You can feel the irony, hear the chuckle but turn anyway to resume your walk into the night. Briskly. Refusing to look back and acknowledge the stranger you’re not sure wants to kill you.  

“I don’t throw rocks at your window,” he continues to call after you, “or approach you in cafes and pretend you’re crazy when you scream.”   

“Then leave me alone,” you shout, hoping the wind carries it far enough behind you to reach him, though you shiver still. 

You don’t see it, but he shrugs. And surprisingly stays where he’s put, watching you try not to look like you’re peeking at him before nearly tripping on your own feet. You’re not sure if it’s a relief.

It’s the first night since first learning of him that you’ve walked home alone. 

-

Later, you learn the creep has two names. 

It’s been five weeks now, just after winter’s turn, the clouds not so big anymore but often dense with the slightest bit of rain you enjoy only when you wake up in the middle of the night too scared to go back to sleep.

The creeper, the shadow, your stalker, basically lives behind you now, grinning whenever you glance, dancing whenever you glare; it’s like he soaks up your, any kind of, attention like a bonfire being doused with gasoline. You’re still scared, unknowing of what he wants, but now that you’ve spoken, there’s somewhat of a static that’s settled, too; it’s tense and awkward, but the horror of it all is stagnant in build, in wait for the spark to light and set your whole world ablaze.

Though he finds you again, two red lights in, halfway to your house. 

“Hey,” he says, following with your name. 

You immediately shudder, jerking away from him in surprise as if there’s anything else you could do, but he just laughs that laugh of his, undisturbed he’s now talking to your back. 

“Where’d you learn that?” you snap, but you can practically hear his grin when he responds. 

“Got classmates, don’t you?” 

Most of your classmates ignore you half the time, the other half just roll their eyes. Most of your classmates laugh whenever you speak, the ones who don’t have made you cry in front of your professors. 

“They wouldn’t piss on me if I was on fire.” 

“I would,” he says, pausing as if he’s some sort of pensive, then giving you a look that assures you he’s up to no good,  “and they gave me your name. Ibara, Setsuna, Yui–I could go on, you know?”

You’re surprised. You’re disgusted. At him, at them, and you gape, the only thing you can think to do under a circumstance that implies no one has any regard for your safety and yet, hardly leaves you surprised. “I think I’d rather just die.” 

“That’s not true,” the creeper laughs, seeming oddly sure of the answer. You’re too nonplussed to decide if he’s right. 

“I hate you,” you try instead. 

“You don’t even know me.” 

And it’s no nice to meet you, but the words slip out before you can stop them. 

“So, what’s your name then?” 

He hesitates, sucking on the piercing on his bottom lip before letting it pop back out in a sneer that shows pointed teeth. You’re not sure if he’s meaning to come off as upset or pensive, bitter or just plain rude. 

“Dabi.” 

The words fall off his lips, snappy and hot, like you’re lighting the burner on an old stove, or flicking a match against a matchbox for the first time and getting surprised when it sparks.

You pause, peeking over your shoulder. “‘gonna cremate me once you kill me?” 

This time, he doesn’t laugh. “Maybe,” he says, then when you don’t react, “no.” 

Your foot taps the ground when you look forward again. “You should really think about changing it, then.” 

There’s a pause, a shift in clothes and in breath despite the pace at which you walk. You feel nervous, awkward the way one does when someone catches you with bad hair, or wearing the last clean clothes in the house on laundry day. You’re not sure why you care so much about a man who clearly does not care about you. Or does… in the same way a farmer fattens up a chicken for slaughter. 

“Call me Touya, then,” he says, his eyes dark. “That’s what my ma calls me.” 

“Touya,” you repeat, sounding the word out on your tongue soft and slow. Lamp. Arrow. A name from his mother. Your lips wrap around it, caress the warmth of the dip, the bend, the aim… and his face breaks into that knowing, wolfish grin. 

“Yeah, sweetheart?” 

You freeze, one foot freezing in the air, and he bursts into a rasp of laughter so loud your eyebrows immediately shoot up and almost off your head entirely. You go in to shush him like you would as if you were accused of something embarrassing, your expression morphing into a deep frown, and his own lightening with humor but still twisting with something hidden, something you really hope is not satisfaction. His lopsided smile falls just the slightest when he sees you readjust your bag and start, almost, stomping away. 

He lets you find distance, of course, he’s always been a shadow not a stable fly, but Touya once again resumes his lazy trailing, joyously humming now, the sound echoing in your ears much longer than it probably should as he falls into a careful step behind you just as he always does… until you eventually make it home. 

-

At six weeks in, he finally drops you off at your house. 

Normally Touya stops his trail about a block or two before you make it, today, however, by the time you’re on the stone steps leading up to your front door, he’s a mere ten feet from your side like a chivalrous date making sure you get home safe (or like someone intending to grab your hands when you’re opening the door and rush in after you, as if to mount you right there on the floor). Your knees wobble on the first step when he speaks, though he remains standing politely next to the fire hydrant by the curb, playing with an unlit cigarette in between his fingers. 

“Got any roommates?” 

You stop, keys dangling from your fingers as you refuse to turn back and look. 

“Yeah,” you say, staring at the chopped firewood on your porch as you let the silence sprawl. You would’ve said the same even if you didn’t. 

“Good. Smart cookie.” 

Your stomach twists. Your face burns. He bounces on his heels. You can’t move. 

“That bakery down the street,” he begins again, nodding his head when you peek at him, barely. “It got food?” 

You squint, your stiff hands cold and tight, his in his pockets. 

“Um.” 

He waits. 

“It’s got mice.” 

Then he bursts into laughter, quickly quieting to suck his teeth and kick a foot forward like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how. There’s a part of you that knows you need to stop indulging this man, for your own safety and sanity, but there’s another part that also doesn’t flip when you think of the possibility of dying. Instead of going inside, you kick your own feet out and ignore your trepidation. 

“Why?”

“Wanna get dinner?”

He grins, and you hate the thought as soon as it arises, but it’s lovely; he has the smile lines of someone who has lived a happy life, and he looks so pretty you almost want to cry. 

(Today he’s dressed in dark, stained jeans and dirty boots. His hair is still a white and black mess and his smile is boyish and toothy. It sends a current up your spine that makes you jerk when you turn back to face your front door.)

“Piss off.” 

You shove your key in the lock to ignore the way he responds with a chuckle as his farewell, goofily waving when you manage to get the stupid thing to turn and yourself inside (which you notice only when you turn to slam the door closed and the curtain ripples). 

But later, when you spare one more glance, the way one glances, out of the window of your living room as if to merely check the weather, Touya is smoking his cigarette on the street corner. 

-

Campus Creep Caught Hanging Around. 

Busted, but this time, not blue! The attacker who was dubbed the “campus creeper” by Mustafu University students was spotted once more about a mile away from the local school. A local cafe owner claims he saw the man being followed by another of a similar size, but is  unsure if the two men are of a related circumstance or other. 

He reports that the neighborhood has been in good spirits lately, so this comes as a shock. As we continue to find out more, the public will be updated—

-

Today your shadow is waiting for you at the end of the block. You spot him from out of the third story window of your classroom, feet sticking halfway off the curb and a lit cigarette between his lips that curls pretty, silver smoke into the golden blue light of the nighttime air. 

“Hey, need a ride home?” one of your classmates asks beside you, the one that has your same name, shocking you out of your stupor as they tap the fingers of one hand against your table and swing their car keys around in the other. 

You can barely tear your gaze away from the window to look at them; their flushed face, their short curls, tight and bouncing, and their awkward, half-assed attempt at generosity. You wonder if this is some kind of exercise they were told to practice in therapy. 

“I heard about the campus stalker,” they continue without prompt. “Shihai and Kinoko are coming too, but you can squeeze in the middle, if you want.”

Their smile looks almost pitying. 

“Uh,” you blink, a little stupefied, a little shy. “It’s alright, but thanks.” 

They raise their eyebrows. “Isn’t your neighborhood a ways down by that cafe?”

“Yeah,” you nod, pausing to flick your eyes upward, “But I, uh...my friend is gonna walk me.”

You point toward the window, where your shadow, Dabi, Touya, whoever, has stopped smoking and is now bent over (teasing, most likely, with a gray-tinted shoelace) one of the mouser cats owned by the keepers of the small temple that sits snug at the back of your school.

You’re not exactly sure when he morphed into your friend. You don’t even think he has yet… but the words feel natural, eager, and easier than sliding onto leather seats in between two people who have never once looked your way with a nice expression and probably never will. 

“Oh good!” same-name laughs, tipping their head back in a way that almost seems exaggerated. “I was scared someone might try to nab you. Not anymore, though.”  

You’re not quite sure if they’re joking, but you try to smile and nod along anyway.

-

By the time he catches up to you that night, he’s half out of breath.

“There you are,” he says, grinning that stupid, wolf-like grin. “‘thought maybe you’d left out the back. Would’ve had to run to catch you.” 

You frown, readjusting the weight of your bag on your shoulder like always, distracted as you multitask trying to make sure your water bottle hasn’t leaked as you run through a list of things to remember as well as double check that you haven’t forgotten anything inside.

 “The north wing is halfway around campus,” you purposely avoid mentioning you took the long way to skip the corner where Touya usually stands. Instead of his face, you stare at the ground instead, by now resigned to the torture of waiting for your end… even if you’re secretly a tad disappointed he hadn’t brought the cat with him. 

“So?” Touya doesn’t look perturbed when you finally face him, almost as if he was waiting for you, “’woulda caught up eventually.” 

You make a note to add that to your list of things to remember, raising your eyebrows. 

“Why?” you ask, and then before he can tease, “Why bother, I mean?” and you can tell he must think you’re joking by the way he doesn’t answer, instead responding by flattening his face–his eyes sinking back into the cozy crevices where they rest and the skin of his chin tightening with exasperation as dry as tinder.

You try not to be too perturbed by it, instead of pressing him for answers, simply turning to set back off as if that will stop the eye roll he’ll give you behind your back and change his mind about following you home. But, as always, or at least, as of more recently, Touya waits a mere five steps before starting right along behind you like the shadow his is. 

-

“What do you want from me, Touya?” 

You ask the question one day, finally, two and a half months in. Classes aren’t over yet, but the end of winter semester is fast approaching. The words seem to scratch at your throat, their destination apparent even if you find they’re hard to spit out and burn on their way out. 

“What?” he asks, falling into a perky step beside you. He’s been that close everyday for the last two weeks now. And now, pressed up against you, near hopping like you’ve been friends for years, he doesn’t back away from the inquiry. 

You’re tired. Sick of waiting. Sad that you let this whole thing last so long when you’ve been quite aware of your impending doom (not that you ever told anyone, not even your roommate) and have done little to try and stop it.

“You wanna kill me or something? Take me home so you can fuck me then run me over?” 

Touya’s footsteps slow, and he halts (for the first time ever of his own volition) a little ways behind you. He’s not as tall as you initially thought him to be back when he kept his distance, but you’ve also since learned that his eyes are the prettiest cyan you’ve ever seen, and his scarred skin is soft and pink. Silver piercings adorn his cheeks like dimples, scars cutting the two different textures right in half. 

“No,” he says, then half heartedly and calm, “you know I’ve done enough of that, already.” 

You glance at him, pulling your head back in a half-horrified glare. But instead of the only half-serious expression you’re so used to seeing on him, however, you find a shit-eating smirk on his face that tells you he’d laugh if he weren’t so obviously trying to yank your chain by not doing so at all. 

Still serious, he jumps at you though, eyes opening wide, hands outstretched and twitching like a monster in a cartoon out to grab you, and you hop back like he’s on fire. No sooner does his face fall that he glances at you as if waiting for some kind of reaction, positive review, happy Halloween (even though it’s ages before Halloween). 

When you stay silent, the hands on your chest not falling, your expression still one of terror but to him quite bitter, he rolls his eyes so far up that only the white are showing. 

“I’m joking,” he says, his baby ocean blues coming back down to settle right on you. “Obviously.” 

You pause, standing still, trying to breathe, comprehend the, the, the predator that has been following you so closely for what you finally conclude has been months now. 

All those torturous moments, since that first night of running, all amounted to something even he won’t name. A silent end, for someone as lonely and pathetic as you; it’d almost be fitting, except for the fact that there’s no specific reason for it to be you. You’re a nobody, friendless and unhappy, waiting for the day you finally graduate and can leave this shitty city behind. It’s not like it ever kept you safe. 

“Then what?” you ask.

You feel resigned, defeated, undermined… yet he looks at you dumbly, as if you’re supposed to know something you clearly do not, and while you’d normally be embarrassed, you find you’re too worn down to care. Touya raises his brows sharply, the bruised-looking (but delicate) bags under his eyes shifting slightly with the tension of an annoyed frown as his voice strains to mock you. “What do you mean, ‘then what?’” 

Your face goes slack, and you think you’d try to hit him if you knew that wouldn’t end up with you on the ground or sobbing alone at home. “Seriously, Touya? We both know you’re stalking me.” 

He laughs dryly, one of the few times you’ve seen him so serious (the last time when he pointed out something dead on the pavement you had to stop him from trying to pray for. ‘I don’t even go to temple,’ he had said at the time, sounding so offended that you decided to drop the subject altogether and just let him go for the little dead bird he said he wanted to give to a friend). “I’m not.” 

“You are. I know you are. You…” 

“I can assure you, hon, if I were stalking you, you’d already be roadkill,” he twists one of his earrings, making a show of staring at the painted nails of his other hand, dark purple, before tsk-ing at you, sassy. “Not like you run from me, anyway.”’

You feel your stomach turn in embarrassment, in shame. You know he’s partly right, but you’re not about to admit that to the man who started it in the first place, who chased you home that whole first month, who, despite the familiarity you share now, still takes pleasure in your pain. 

“Because, because no matter what I do, you won't quit chasing me. I’ve been running from you. ‘Cos you won’t leave. Me. Alone.” 

Touya rolls his eyes, then sighs like you’re being a hassle. “If you really didn’t want me here I woulda left. I’m not stupid.”

“But I don’t want you here. I never did. You show up out of, of, fucking nowhere, acting like you know me—”

“I’m keeping you safe, lollipop,” he interrupts, though the words hardly register.

“Safe? As if it’s my fault you can’t leave me alone?”

You think of all the nights that had you near paralyzed with terror, from that first day onward, of rubbing your feet raw in your shoes, of wishing someone would come save you, of puzzling why you never ended up dead, to now. You never once thought, realized–

“Not your fault. His. The neighbor stalker.” 

You can barely respond, your arms shaking at your sides, eyes watering with distress. 

“But you, you’re…” 

He smacks his lips with a yawn. 

“Yeah, I beat him black and blue, maybe. But only cuz he was trailing you, I wouldn’t…” he shoves one hand in the pocket of his coat, waves the other dramatically in the air, “go after someone unless—” 

“Touya?” you question, your throat rough, your swallows heavy and thick with a syrupy confusion. 

“They did something real bad, like messed with a—“

“Dabi.”

He finally looks at you, the sheen in his eyes, for once, solemn, as if he harbors a genuine concern for your safety all brought on by your confusion. 

“What?” 

It’s a question he asks a lot, but this time, he seems to mean it. 

“Dabi,” you repeat, “you mean… you’re not the campus creep? The one on the news?” 

He gawks at you suddenly. The silence stretching, the night suddenly looming, the breeze even seeming to laugh. His disinterested expression begins to fade into a blank, unreadable nothingness… and then he howls. Hoots. Yells. His smile returning then, wide, blazing, hot. 

He laughs like you’ve never seen anyone laugh before, guffawing joyously and jollily, slapping his hands against the ripped holes of his jeans as his chest heaves underneath today’s thin, white tee. 

It’s almost contagious. Almost. 

“And here I thought we were bonding.”

You prickle like a cat, digging your toes into the tips of your worn out shoes. “Stop it. I’m being serious.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” he manages in between snickers, “you thought I was the creeper this whole time?” 

“You’re not?”

“That guy?” Touya straightens up to wipe his eyes, and you finally notice the crow’s feet that crinkle around his eyes, “Hell no. You think I do this for fun? Wear fuckin’ ugly hats and shit to terrorize pretty students at the school my ass of a little brother attends?” 

You say nothing. He starts laughing again, clapping his hands and keeling over. Even in jest, his voice still has that soft, raspy charm as he hoots at the ground. 

“Dabi. Touya. Whoever you are,” you plead, the first time ever you think you’ve voluntarily gotten closer to him, grabbing the rough shoulder of his jacket and tugging. He stumbles, maybe more on purpose than because of your grip, closing the distance between you such that his chest is pressed against yours and his hands are on your hips. “Tell me the truth. What’s going on?” 

He snorts, the only difference in sound now that it’s muffled by the closeness of your lips, but responds slowly nonetheless.  

“I beat the snot,” he emphasizes, exposing teeth, “out of your stalker. And you didn’t even know he wasn’t me.” 

“But…” you say, hesitating against him, your hands slipping from the stiff collar of his jacket to the front of his chest, confused. His eyes are as cold as ice but set you on fire when you meet his gaze.  “You didn’t have to. I mean, I woulda been fine, right?” 

He doesn’t look entirely convinced. “You tell me, when you’re the one still trying to walk your stupid ass home alone at night.”  

You flush, cheeks heating the skin all the way down to your neck. Touya seems to have clocked you far better than you ever knew it yourself–that he was never the enemy, that you were trapped in a self pity so deep only he could drag you out of it before choking, that dying, being tortured, being stalked, was far from the punishment you needed to get that kind of smoke out of both your lungs and your head. 

And, if anything, that you were lucky to have him.  

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t care.” Touya steps back only to purposely step gently on your toes. When you glare at him, hand still stretched  out to link the two of you together somehow, he only grins. “Buy me dinner to make up for it. Or kiss me sometime. With tongue. Either’s fine, cookie.” 

-

It’s been six months. Summer is just about to begin, your roommate has already left on vacation, and the closer you get to the end of the season, the more you feel your worries begin to melt off of you like layers upon layers of frost on an icy window of a warm cabin. 

The shadow still walks you home, but he no longer trails behind you, and you no longer call him a creep. You call him Touya–now your lamp, now your arrow–and sometimes Dabi (that is, when you feel like he’s not listening). 

Though the sun now sets a whole hour later than it did during winter, excusing as much of a need for Touya’s presence in your routine, you have now welcomed him into it,  (even if you spent the first couple months of your real relationship trying to make up for your initial confusion at his presence with bowls of soap and burnt bread from the cafe near your house.)

It is a Thursday when a wispy-haired classmate comes up to you on the steps that lead away from campus. She’s the one you knew vaguely from elementary school in your distant home town, and who made herself reacquainted by sneering at you once for eating a candy bar in class; she bared fangs at you like she herself had never been hungry, and then ignored you every time you saw her after (even during assigned group work, when you realized she wasn’t even that intelligent). 

But, now, you know, Touya can sneer, too, and sneer for you in ways that light a fire in the hearth of your existence… and he does so, sharply, arrogantly, when she approaches underneath the fading light of the sun and slate blue sky. She looks almost scared, even more so of his smile, big, wide and scary—that is, until you interrupt the moment by calling out to her from behind his back. 

“You ever heard about the campus creeper?” you ask, to which she nods anxiously, big, wet tears welling in her eyes as she hobbles right over to your side, Touya already barking into the warming night air as he begins to walk you both home.