#professor touya

[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

[onhiku]

Suggestions from twt

[autumnmobile12]

Just so we’re clear…

...the irony that Ambush Simulation was inspired by a Soul Eater episode where a white haired, patchwork dude with questionable sanity pulls the same stunt on some unsuspecting high schoolers and thought it was the funniest shit ever is not lost on me.

[schlechtenhunde]

"Hi, Dad."

That hurtful hand, poised, and bubbling Motor Oil—

Charred Tinsel curtains the sky and you’re crawling back from

Graveyard dirt underneath the Smiles of nails, frothy soil—

A fucking joke, Hit Me Again, better when I’m numb

Mottled skin flayed away just to Bite the hand that burns—

Started with hurt then followed by Detergent and Faltered acetylcholine

Sugary blood, ichor, sulfur water from the Carsick’s wheel yearns—

I watched that repulsive disappointment glaze upon your eyes, growl to clean

And maybe we watch Those cockroaches sniff your our smoky failure—

Empty heart, winter Nights, look at me, see me, watch me, tell me who’s the real VICTIM

They’re all over our necks, you, me, we, us, don’t you want a kerosene SAVIOR

Ice bath hounds, instinctual panting, and Azure will be your our last Symptom

Fire’s breathing until I’m snowy ash and there to stay

But I guess Hell never ever really bothered me, anyway.

[tangirlisfangirl]

happy december 10th how we feelin 😅😅

[a-lonely-red-feather]

Not-Quite-Dead-Characters

Return as a Antagonist

[arjengelly]

I’m going to use Touya as an example cuz babies’ eye and hair colors can change over time…

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ Good boy. ❞

Touya Todoroki x ftm!reader x Tomura Shigaraki x Taishiro Toyomitsu x ftm!Shota Aizawa x ftm!Keigo Takami | AU, Dabi & Tomura works as a body piercer & tattoo artist. Taishiro and Shota work as college professors | nsfw, smut, p**n with plot | vers. bttm. reader | wc: 8.7K | NOT PROOFREAD

warnings: most likely inaccurate description of getting pierced, D/S dynamics, T4T (Shota Aizawa x r! x Takami Keigo), infinity collar (Keigo Takami), markings, blowjobs, handjobs, anal sex, orgy, minor daddy kink, overstimulation, AFAB terminology (clit referred to as dick though), squirting, Aizawa has had top and bottom surgery, Keigo has had top surgery and bottom growth

masterlist: pt1; pt2; pt3

authors note: this is for @thatone1diot and @kaycesspade! I could not resist writing more for these horny idiots! * song on repeat when writing this: sugar by sleep token & LA FAMA by ROSALiA ft. The Weeknd

Oh fuck.

Taishiro, with those warm honey eyes, catches the apprehension on your face. He lifts a hand, his smile soft and dimples filled with nothing but kindness; "There's really no need for that. The offer is really cool and all but, we're practically strangers, so there's no need for — " Tomura scoffs as he folds his arms across his chest.

"Strangers? You put your dick into our boy, wouldn't think that counts as something strangers do," he snaps out. Dabi is slipping a hand into your back pocket, the other reaching for the back of Tomura's neck.

"Alright, alright. Nobody is a fan of the fivesome. No need to get all macho about it," Dabi said. Taishiro offers an apologetic grin that makes your lips pursed. "It's fine, really," you pull away from your boyfriends — they watch with cocked brows — and stand between the duos. "It wasn't offensive, it was just a lame joke Dabi likes to make." Dabi didn't think his jokes were lame, his frown reflects his thoughts but you elect to ignore it as you turn to face Taishiro and Shota. Out of the club, they're dressed so...handsomely. You suppose they could be wearing nothing but a potato sack and still make you salivate but it was nice to see their personal styles.

Shota was wearing a black turtleneck that was tight in all the right places, his coat hung over his arm and sleeves rolled up to show the dark ink on his cool-toned skin. On the other hand, Taishiro is in white and creams — his button-up crisp with his coat made his skin glow. His hair slicked back showed off those mixed metals decorating his ear lobes and cartilage.

God, he was huge. Not just his tall frame but the softness of his tummy and the way his sleeves seem to struggle to hold onto all of him. Memories of that night flood in and you shouldn't be surprised at your perverted brain doing what it does but there's a sense of shame that comes.

"A - anyways, what brings you two here?" Shota gives a glance over your shoulder, you wonder where he got that facial scar. Your thighs tickle in memory of his beard, before he answers.

"A friend recommended the place." You nodded and motioned for them to go towards the glass counter. Tomura huffs behind you but follows you as well. There were several other tattoos and piercing parlors around here. It was just the area for it. Still, Villain's Hideout was a crowd favorite for its beautiful tattoos along with their masterful piercing techniques.

"You're getting a tattoo?" You wonder, grabbing the store's iPad and peeking at Shota through your lashes. He shakes his head, stroking over the curved cartilage of his ear.

"A piercing. Helix." He wonders why your eyes sparkle. Shota watches the silent exchange between you and Tomura with mild interest.

"...Would you be willing to get pierced by him?" Tomura says after a quick exhale. Shota pinches his brows.

"Is he trained to pierce people?" You nod enthusiastically and it reminds him of the night you were downing tequila shots with ease whilst leaning against the bar with a giant grin; looking oh-so handsome when you glanced back at him with a wink.

He isn't sure if that memory helped his confidence in your ability to stab a needle through him, but he nodded either way.

"I don't see why not, if I die at least you'll know who to sue, Taishiro." The joke manages to wring a chuckle from your lips. It loosens your boyfriends shoulders. You hope it’ll be an indication that things can goo by smoothly between everyone today. There really was no need for any drama — you’ve had your fill with the months leading up to the three of you finally making it official. You’ve earned some peace in this lifetime.

Dabi's usual spot is too much of a squeeze for everyone. So you're in Tomura's; it's more spacious, less private.

"So, are you guys a couple?" Dabi is sitting on the swivel chairs, watching you idly as you and Tomura set and sanitize things up. Taishiro smiles, putting his phone away after he had taken a photo of Shota sat on the chair. "We're colleagues, actually." Dabi scoffs, inching in closer to them before Tomura can wheel him back.

"At like a BDSM club or something? Seem pretty coordinated. Is it an open relationship kinda deal?"

"You're so interested, I'm almost flustered," Shota drawls out. "We're coworkers who fuck each other with no romantic aspects in our relationship."

Shota isn't usually so open about himself and his private life. Although because he ate you out with Taishiro's dick in your cunt, he supposes he should offer your boyfriends some courtesy.

"Hm, fair enough." Dabi says with a shrug. Taishiro finds it befuddling how casually Dabi seemed to ‘approve’ of their status. It was a bit strange, but he seemed like the eclectic type anyways.

Enigmatic? Was that a nicer description?

Tomura hooks the toe-point of his boots to the steel bars of the swivel chair and tugs Dabi back. "You got it, babe?" Tomura murmurs. You nod, humming along as you recount the steps in your head.

"Will Shota be your first?" Taishiro wonders as you turn around. Tomura snickers but a quick elbow from you silences it into a pleased grin. "No, I pierced Dabi's ears before and did Tomura's lip piercing. A few lobe piercings too!"

"He's good, we taught him everything he needs to know," Tomura holds the back of your nape, twisting your head to place a quick kiss on your lips.

"Isn't that right, baby?"

That look is still in his eyes. That possessiveness from the night in the club. His vermillion eyes are hooded with a desire that's entirely out of place. Still — your cheeks warm from the public display and irritation is beginning to show in the twitch of your brows.

"Yeah," you reply, darting your eyes elsewhere which makes Tomura's moisturized — you've made it a habit to do it for him for his sake — lips stretch. Dabi gives you the chair he'd been sitting on and you're unaware of the heavy gazes of the other men in the room.

That night of passion, unfiltered and raw and rough; your bedroom eyes from across the room that made embers of lust roar into a flame. Shota and Taishiro had come to the club to get drunk after a particularly harrowing round of marking their students exam papers. They had no intention of visiting the private rooms above despite the club owner excitedly informing them he had saved one just for them.

"Hizashi, we're only here for the drinks. Not the boys," Taishiro chuckles out, cheeks red and lips sweet from the drinks Hizashi had so graciously poured into his mouth. Straight from the bottle, standing over him while he was sitting on the couch. Shota was chugging the rest of it down after he had tapped the blonde's side for mercy.

"Really?" Hizashi scoffed. "You come to a club called Boy Toys for the drinks? Don't even wanna get your tips wet? You're fucking with me!" Taishiro whines when Hizashi slings an arm around his neck, forcing him to lean down a bit. "Your pretty little blonde pet still busy?" Shota sighs as the last drop trails down his chin, wiping it away with the back of his hand and placing the bottle down.

"When he isn't, we should arrange another play session! The both of you made him so good at eating ass out! My ass still has ghostly sensations!"

See? Absolutely no intention of finding someone to fuck. Until you bumped into him at the bar — tequila shots — and suddenly he just couldn't keep his eyes off of you. Taishiro's interests were obviously piqued because of Shota's and then, well....

You remember what happened next, don't you?

Stumbling into the private room, Shota's talented mouth working you open and Taishiro’s cock splitting you open...

“Ready?” Shota nods and you murmur a thank you as you reach for the alcohol swabs. Wordlessly, Shota brushes his long bangs back and into a ponytail, revealing the streaks of white hairs he has and Dabi blinks as he spots the way your fingers wrinkle the poor swab.

Shota straightens his back and you carefully feel the spot. He wanted it higher, a quick touch to the curve of his ear tells you it’s because of space as you felt the dips of his other piercings. Shota focused his gaze on anything but you; staring at the floor and his lap. Unintentionally catching the sliver of skin the oversized shirt collar shows him.

You’re marked up. That doesn’t surprise him. It’s the amount of marks that do. If it wasn’t the hickeys, it was the traces of what was probably a collar. Shota holds himself back from commenting on it. It wasn’t his place to tell you there were nicer, padded, collars that won’t leave such marks on your skin. Even if he was dying to ask if you have any moisturizer or gel to soothe it.

The coolness of the wet pad cleaning the spot feel numbed out for him. If he could muster anymore attention to anything but the remnants of sex on your body, he'd applaud you for how thoroughly you're sanitizing the area and how steady your fingers are as you mark the spot.

A mirror breaks his train of thought and his wide eyes blink back at himself.

“What do you think?” Shota focuses on the mark, clearing his throat. This was not appropriate. The situation was unusual but his behaviour was entirely inappropriate. Dabi stands behind you, bending at the waist as he regards the placement. The sight of him makes Shota’s interest pique despite his moral protests.

Dabi had offered — No! It was an awful joke! That’s all!

“I like it,” Shota nearly strains out. Seeing your lips curl proudly only fuels his guilt. And lust. “Good job, baby,” Dabi presses a kiss to the side of your temple and his hands squeeze your nape once again.

It must be a comforting touch for you. Twice now it’s done and each time, both Taishiro and Shota note how your eyelids flutter. Threatening to close but being kept open through sheer will and — if your reproachful glare to them is of any indication — slight embarrassment.

Bit too late for that now if they’re being completely honest.

“D’you need me to hold your hand, Shota?” Taishiro teases from his side. Shota snorts, tilting his head as he looks down at Taishiro. “You’ll be the one squeezing my hand until it breaks if I do that. So no.”

“Big guys a scaredy cat?” Tomura is staying in his corner. Content as he watches you prepare the jewellery for Shota from a distance. Dabi is hovering and you’re tempted to elbow him too if it weren’t for the grip he had on your waist.

“Hah, not really,” Taishiro snorts, “Shota’s just teasing. He’s the more edgy one compared to me.” Tomura’s brows raise at that.

“I just like poking fun at him,” Taishiro adds.

At the moment, you're feeling something else poke at your behind. God, the both of them were like animals in heat. There's a pinch of amusement at this but you push it down. Dabi and Tomura laugh along to Taishiro's words — they were little shitheads too. Taishiro was just in nicer packaging.

He was so big. The mere memory of him makes your dick twitch. What did his parents feed him to make his body so perfect?

You chastise yourself in your head. Bad enough your boyfriends already have some weird beef with these DILF's, you cannot be calling them DILF's in your head and lust over them. You were a whore but you weren't an adulterous whore!

You pick up your piercing instruments, tilting your head to switch gears from horny fantasies to a more professional mindset. Dabi's boner can wait.

The gloves are making his thoughts run wild. Feeling you but not all of you, the pressure of your touch and the concentrated scrunch between your brows are making him feel like a teenager.

Was that just the effect you had? Making queer men go stupid after one taste of you?

It's like some sort of supernatural power. A mutation or a quirk, hes's sure of it. Because Shota was not some horny dog that ran after any pretty boy, especially not ones who were already in a relationship. These emotions of rabidness was not meant for someone like him, it was meant for his student not him. He had a goddamn tenure.

Shota tenses as the sharp tip of a hollow needle presses onto his skin. He dares to flick his eyes upwards and he instantly regrets it. You look at him and that memory of the night he met you flashes again.

"Deep breathe in."

He can definitely do that.

His shoulders raise and drop. The needle pierces through with a sharp yet familiar sting. It’s soothing. The rush is minuscule but it’s the exact pinch he needs to rid his filthy thoughts of you. Shota is impressed with how smoothly your motions are. You’ve clearly got the routine down. Hands steady as you slip the hoop through his flesh and gently fix the jewellery. Dabi is still behind you, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed while Tomura is sneaking a video of your process.

You nod, backing away with a proud grin. It’s Dabi’s cue to inspect the product and Tomura holds up a mirror for Shota.

“Looks great,” Dabi’s praise practically makes you bounce off the balls of your feet. Taishiro approaches, so Shota turns his head for him to get a look. It was perfect. The placement was exactly where he wanted it to be and there was no blood spilt —

Why is this making his craving for you heighten?

The payment process that follows is oddly methodical. Taishiro likened it to a mechanical process. The air was so thick with sexual tension despite the inappropriateness of the entire situation. Or perhaps, because of the inappropriate situation. The blonde’s cheeks were red and all that was shared was just heavy gazes, coy questions and teasing.

It ends so abruptly. He kneads at his neck, as if physically feeling the effects of whiplash instead of metaphorically. Shota bids you and your boyfriends, thanking you for the piercing and Taishiro offers a polite nod and grin. The door closes behind them and they both walk in silence for a minute or two.

“...He’d honestly love the three of them,” Taishiro casually mentions. “Didn’t he say he wanted a new piercing?”

Shota and him exchange a look. Taishiro then slips his phone out and begins texting their obedient little pet. They did promise him a good surprise for when he returned from his trip overseas — new playmates sounds perfect. They were already on some thin ice with Tomura, Taishiro thinks. Their pet would be an olive branch, an offer of peace, so to speak.

Toga and Spinner tilt their heads at the closed store. She rattles the front door with a quizzical expression while Spinner is balancing his phone between his ear and shoulder, rummaging his pockets upon pockets of his pants for the keys. Twice was keeping "lookout" behind them while he held the canned drinks they got from the grocery store a train ride away.

"Spinner, are you messing with us?" Toga pouts. Thankfully, the weather was cool and breezy. But it wasn't exactly good for business for them to be loitering in front of their own store. They looked dumb too, Twice whined out at some point.

"We look like losers!" the taller of the three huffs.

"Give me a goddamn second! I know I brought the keys with me, okay?" Spinner hisses out. Toga and Twice watch on, unimpressed.

The rattling of the door makes him shiver. That's what he'd say if you asked. It was your tongue and tongue piercing but telling you that would just make you way too smug about your headgame. Tomura's spot was hidden away by a wooden divider, the dark red colour of it popping out brightly against the cooler tones of the shop. Dabi's spot was a small room with one door tucked in the hallway at the back of the store.

Tomura's spot was a corner. Not a room, no door.

The only thing separating it from the front area was that wooden divider and some big plants whose leaves needed a wipe down.

Fucking in Tomura's spot is always a rush considering how the shops front is basically a fish tank. That, and the CCTV in the corner provides Tomura — and Dabi and you — with grainy, noir-esque, replays.

Tomura knows Spinner doesn't have the keys. He left his fanny pack — or as he calls it, his Utility Belt — behind the glass counter. He thinks that deserves a bit of punishment and ignores his buzzing phone while you're working on his cock. He half-regrets teaching you how to use that damn barbell piercing. It flicks under head, dragging itself up to his slit and Tomura curses as you grin.

"I'll cum all over your face if you keep teasing me," he warns.

"Hm, promise, baby?" you push your lips out, relishing in the salty taste of his precum while he tosses his head back. Dabi watches from the side, sitting on the same spot Shota had been on, while he looked at the stores iPad.

His dick was so hard and begging to be let out from his pants. His usual impatience's was not present in this romp. It couldn't have been from their three dumbass apprentices outside the door. He relishes in peoples — small — sufferings.

You roll your eyes internally at him brooding. Focusing on Tomura as you squeeze his dick just how he likes it. The contrast of your hold, wet, tongue and that cold, smooth, piercing — the swelled tongue and soft food diet you had to go through was worth it. Tomura was close, you could feel the way he's twitching in your mouth and you pull back with just the slightest hint of teeth.

It makes him grunt, gripping the back of your head in warning and you flutter your eyes closed to simply avoid looking at him.

"Fuckin' brat." He wasn't wrong. It wasn't his lose. He liked you like that way.

You take him into your mouth again, humming, and Tomura hates how good it feels. The incessant buzzing is making Dabi's eye twitch and so he crouches next to you to reach into Tomura's pants. You ignore him completely while he answers the call, simply going further down on Tomura.

"Shit — !"

"Yo, Spinner. What's up?" Dabi moves to stand behind you as he boxes you between him and Tomura. He guides Tomura's hand to his crotch, and he stifles the moan in his throat as he feels it jump from underneath the layers.

"Are you guys in the store?" Spinner sounds hopeful.

Dabi almost feels bad for them...

"Nah, we headed out to buy some food. There's no appointments until later today. You want anything to eat?"

Tomura manages to whip his dick out and you felt it tap the back of your head. Pulling away, you wipe the spit away from your lips as you look at Dabi in disbelief.

"What the fuck is your problem?" you mouth at him.

Tomura chuckles, pushing himself off the wall and closing in on you.

"What the fuck's your problem?" you hiss.

He simply gestures to their dicks and you sit back on your calves in disbelief.

"Well, ah, no...we're at the store and I kinda..." Spinner trails off.

"Yeah?" Dabi caresses your ear, trailing his touch down to your chin. That wavering glare on your face...fuck, nothing gets him harder. His cock twitches again and you curse out the both of them as you jerk them both off.

"I left my keys inside the store," Spinner admits with a sigh.

"Seriously?" Dabi laughs when you leave petty kitten licks along his cock.

"Man, I swear I thought I got it on me before I left," He elects to ignore Toga whispering/hissing at him that she told him so to instead strain his ears to hear his bosses response.

"You gotta do better than that," Tomura says. It makes Spinner's shoulders droop; "I know, man. I'll double check before we leave next time."

"Yeah, that's good," Tomura praises as you spit onto his dick, the friction alleviating.

"Yeah, so, where are you guys eating at?"

"What?" Dabi sighs when you bring both of their tips together, kissing them while your hands jerk them both.

"Uh, said you were at eating lunch?"

"Shit, yeah," Tomura groans when you take his dick in again. Dabi clenches his jaw when you cup his balls and squeeze them gently. He wonders for a moment if you did the same with that Taishiro and Shota that night. It tightens his expression into a sour one.

"Huh?" Spinner's voice pulls him away.

"We took Tomura's car. Might take awhile. Why don't you guys chill out at that cafe nearby," Dabi bites out.

"Uh — Oh —"

The line is disconnected.

"'Kay...?"

The air is biting. Despite the layers he has on him. The tropical temperatures had spoiled him and his winter coats were annoyingly heavy as they pressed against his body — his shoulders feeling particularly heavy. Winter was just horrible, really. Other then the hot drinks and using it as an excuse to find a body to curl up with.

There was also the added bonus of covering up and hiding your face too. This time, without the humidity of a facemask during a warm day.

Keigo lets the pros and cons of snow flurry in his mind as his long legs guide him to The Villains Hideout. This side of town had a less intimidating aura when everyone was bundled up. It made him chuckle from behind his neck scarf. These tatted up men and women just looked like emo grandma's — those titanium piercings must be frigid.

He stops in front of the store and spots a few people gathered around a glass coffee table and low couch, the neon words hung above the couch shining a comforting yellow as all of them share a laugh.

Keigo presses on, the door sensor going off and immediately turning heads.

You honestly hadn't expected to get any customers. It wasn't a snow storm, but the streets were somewhat bare. Toga and Twice greet the bundled up man, standing as they held onto their warm mugs of tea/coffee. Dabi and you sat next to each other and instantly noticed the clothes he wore.

They were branded. Expensive. New.

The both of you shared a glance.

Tomura briefly mentioned of Dabi coming from a pretty affluential yet shitty family. You weren't sure if you should feel glad you were right about Dabi having parental issues, but it explained a lot. You leaned into Tomura to flutter your lashes up at him and he deliberately stands to ignore you.

"I didn't make an appointment. I hope that's okay," Spinner's ears twitch. That tone of voice. Where has he heard it before?

"Oh, sure. That's cool. You in here for ink or for piercings?" Toga takes a page out of your book and blinks rapidly. She's been dying to stab someone a million times with her needles. Tomura would tell her to stop saying it like that, but he finds it too amusing to do so.

Keigo approaches the counter after offering everyone else a polite nod. With his back to the waiting area, the four of you — Dabi, Spinner, Twice, and you — shamelessly eye him from top to bottom. When he removes the beanie, Spinner nearly jumps into the air.

"Holy shit," he slams a palm onto Twice's knee. The man flinches, bewildered. You're still squinting, leaning back into Dabi's shoulders as you sip on your drink. "What? Ya' know him?" Dabi is acting like the man isn't a feet away from him. You elbow him to remind him to keep his volume into a whisper.

"That's Takami Keigo. The model."

"Whoah? Really!?" Twice is smacked on his shoulder by Spinner, making him yelp.

Tomura offers Keigo a lipless, pursed, smile at the commotion behind him. "Don't mind 'em. They're fucking dumbasses," Keigo laughs. It's practiced. Something you'd hear from a guest during some late night show.

"Nah, it's alright." Takami Keigo, model. He was easy on the eyes. Strong brows, deep double eyelid crease and a nice curve to his nose. Tomura can see why he's plastered on nearly every mens magazine and interviewed for the womens magazines. He wasn't much a gossip — everyone in the store would disagree — but Tomura is active online.

Takami was private. He had interviews and posted semi-actively on his social media accounts, sure. But outside of what he allowed to be known, he was practically a hermit crab.

"So, piercing?" Toga hides her disappoint as Takami nods. He had nice lobe piercings but nothing too unconventional. Comes with the profession, Tomura supposes. Your body is no longer really yours.

"Is it okay if we discuss this in a more private setting?" Takami was straightforward. Yet, the tone he said it in just makes you loosen up. It's those honey coloured eyes.

Or maybe Tomura was just gay.

Toga and him share a glance but he nods and motions for Takami to the hallway. Dabi cocks a brow as Tomura curls his finger for him to come hither. He cocks his brow again when you're suddenly standing with him.

"What? I just wanna get more experience," you defended.

"D'you have some sort of piercing fetish? You do know it's illegal to make people unknowillingly participate in your kinks, right?" Dabi swings an arm around your shoulders to catch your head between his bicep and chest, smiling at your grunt as he messes with your hair.

It simultaneously irritates you and soothes you.

Curse him and his delicious muscle mass.

Takami is dressed down now. His goose-feathered padded jacket, and branded beanie neatly folded over a chair in the corner. You pause in the doorway. Dabi slips past you and Takami eyes him for a moment then you.

You smile and lean against the doorway, curling one leg over your ankle as your boyfriends prepared the consent form.

"It's pretty straightforward," Tomura says, "honestly though, doing it while it's cold out isn't the best choice."

"Hah, I know, I know," he waves a hand around and tugs at his cashmere scarf, "I meant to do it when it was warmer but I've never gotten around to it. Might as well bite the bullet and just get it over it. No shirtless photoshoots during winter either."

Takami pauses for a moment then ping-pongs his eyes between the three of you once again.

"Actually, uh. Like I said, my friends told me about this place. They mentioned a (Y/N)."

Your name sounded pretty coming from him. It made blood rush to your cheeks and you straightened up considerably.

"Me?"

You're hot. You, and your boyfriends. Keigo can see why Shota and Taishiro told him about you. Though he hasn't exactly understood the whole kink vibe they were talking about. Polyamory wasn't kinky — just a relationship dynamic. He knew his dominants knew that better than anyone, so Keigo just nodded and waited for it to unfold.

He trusted his doms and their choices, but he did appreciate them giving him a chance to scope the scene, so to speak. The three of you were strangers after all, to him and his dominants. Plus, they didn't even know if you'd be down for mingling private parts as a group.

"I heard you're good at what you do," Takami tilts his head, leaning back on his hands on the bench. A husky laugh erupts from the dark-haired man. The iPad is dwarfed as his long fingers as he precariously holds it like a tray over his shoulder, his other hand cupping his elbow.

"He's good, but he isn't ready for a nipple piercing. Not yet."

"But he'll be more than happy to watch."

Ah. There it was. Introduced to him with such a charming smirk. It's entirely wolf-like. You nod eagerly, eyes twinkling as you settle next to Tomura. Instantly, he reaches to wrap an arm around your waist. His usually cold fingers were warm from the hot mug of tea and you relished in it as he 'sneakily' slipped them up your sweater. It was casual PDA, perhaps a bit too much in a closed room, but Keigo didn't mind. He signed the consent form, ignoring the slow drips of fire down south.

Dabi looked over the consent form once it was signed. "Hope you don't mind taking off your shirt in front of people," the jokes makes Takami chuckle. He reaches for the hem of his sweater and pulls up.

It glints in the light, catching your eye instantly. Takami folds his clothes on his lap and sets it aside. It's titanium, looking like a complete circle with no ridges or bumps. There didn't seem to be any sight of a way to unclasp it, other then a thin — barely noticeable — slit. It rests comfortably around his neck, not tight enough to be a choker and instead demurely laying on his collarbone. Tomura instantly recognizes it, while you were intrigued. Dabi sets everything up, knowing one of you would ask.

"Nice collar," Tomura's words make Takami...bashful. His lips curl into an appreciative grin and you're prompted to ask; "What is it for?"

"It's an infinity collar, (Y/N)." Your boyfriend answers, Takami nods in confirmation. Takami strokes the front of it, his wine-red polished nails looking oh-so-pretty.

“It’s different for every dynamic, but my doms and I enjoy the permanent collar aspect. It’s soothing in a sense. Plus, it looks good on me.”

“Anything looks good on you, you’re a model,” you say light-heartedly. His laugh is airy this time, less talk show and more casual. “So, it’s an ownership thing?” Dabi slides over the cart of instruments. “For us, yeah. We’re busy people and it’s just a nice reminder outside of our scenes.” He lands his sights on you and Tomura, contemplating for a brief second.

"You've actually met my doms before. Aizawa and Taishiro."

You cough. A shoulder jerking, curling over, coughing fit kinda cough. Tomura rubs your back, using your surprise as a way to hide his. It’s been a couple of weeks since that encounter. Other than Dabi’s possessive scenes and dissuading Tomura from stalking their socials, you’d almost forgotten all about them.

"They have a thing for pretty boys, don't they?" Dabi’s smooth with his reply. Shitty bastard. You find your composure. Extremely glad that you weren’t gulping down any water at that moment. Jesus, talk about a small world. Your boycunt and asscheeks still ache from your boyfriend's bout of possessive sex.

Takami smirks. Those golden eyes look at you again, swallowing you up.

"Guess they do, but to be fair — you three made quite the impression."

“These two were bizarre, I’m sure Sho — your doms were just being nice.” Nice recovery, Tomura thinks with a small scoff. You were glad to know they didn’t think you and your boyfriends were complete weirdos, finally, you could sleep easier at night.

“Don’t listen to him. (Y/N) is just embarrassed we fucked him in the hallway while your old men were listening in,” Dabi motions for him to sit up straight, placing his hand on Takami's chest.

“Oh, they weren’t just listening,” Takami replies.

You’re dreaming. You’ve had some pretty sexy dreams before, this must be one of those extremely realistic ones. Tomura is going to wake you up with his fingers inside of you while Dabi’s licking at your chest because of how you were moaning at this dream orgy. Yeah, that’s it.

There is no fucking way this just falls onto your lap.

Takami's collar glints, the light catching your eye and you feel envious. That must be nice, that nice weight on the base of your neck as a constant reminder. You could definitely plan an outfit that’d go with it.

“My doms and I, we’ve been humouring the idea of an orgy. They seem very interested in the three of you and I wanted nipple piercings. One stone, six birds.”

Dabi and Tomura don’t even need to land their sights on you to know you’re wide-eyed and expecting. Threesomes were their wheelhouse; orgies? That takes a bit more coordination, trust, discussions, and condoms — Oh god, so many more condoms.

“You don’t have to answer right away,” Takami assures with a wave of his hand. “Just a suggestion. I don’t want you to be trembling while piercing me.”

“They’re still sensitive after your top surgery?” Dabi is pleasantly surprised by his nod. “Not as sensitive as they used to be but I’m grateful the old doctor who did it still had it in him to preserve them.”

His chest was the envy of all men. Firm and filled out, the scars he had nearly all the way gone. Still, you wonder if he’d enjoy the sight of you licking them and telling him how sexy he was.

Tomura squeezes you again. As if he knows the filthy thoughts your brain is conjuring.

Dabi warns Takami about the pinch he’d feel. “You honestly don’t feel the first one at all, the adrenaline helps. The second nipple is going to hurt a bit more, need anything to squeeze, Takami?”

“Call me Keigo, please. I offered all of you to get into an orgy with me, might as well get into the first name basis.”

Keigo calls out your name and Tomura’s. He holds out a hand and you slip yours in while Tomura stands by his legs, placing his hold there. Keigo’s not sure if this will turn into a new fixation but seeing three handsome men stare down at him was making his crotch feel all sorts of things.

Primarily, it’s feeling the urge to be used, but Keigo’s a good boy.

A very good boy.

You, on the other hand, are not. Keigo was a messenger with gold wings and you were raised right, dammit. A guest should not leave with nothing — ignoring the fact he is getting a piercing — and so you lean down and brush the hair away from his face.

His eyes widen as how close your face is. This is familiar. Your first encounter with Dabi flashes through your mind and you smile as you cup his face.

“A distraction great for piercings. Need one?”

“Or two?” Tomura’s hands are resting on his knees now.

Dabi shakes his head as he laughs under his breath. What else did Keigo expect, offering such a scandalous proposition to you? He supposes he deserves this and, really, he should get to know you three to some degree.

Just to test the chemistry.

“I’m not allowed to cum,” he says as Tomura’s hands travel to his thighs. You coo as you tease him with your lips hovering over his. Your grip on his hand loosens and tightens, mimicking his racing heart. His throat is closing up like it always does, but Keigo pushes through to speak.

“But I’m allowed to make three of you cum.”

“Tell us your colours when you need to,” Dabi reminds him as he sanitizes the piercing spot. “That means, no kissing, (Y/N).”

Keigo and you turn to look at Dabi, eyebrows furrowed in despair. He simply stares ahead.

“It isn’t fair that Keigo’s the only one with rules. You’re not allowed to kiss him, Tomura’s not allowed to suck his dick —”

“What the fuck!?”

“And I’m not allowed to participate. I’ll just watch.”

Tomura is aghast. Bewildered. Shocked. Bamboozled.

Him? Shigaraki “I Give The Best Head” Tomura, not allowed to go down on a man’s penis?

He wants to smack Dabi but the man is prepping to pierce and Keigo needs a distraction. Dabi doesn’t need to open his stupid fucking mouth, but Tomura connects their gazes and he knows what that raised brow means.

‘Can’t get someone off with your fingers? Lame.’

Dabi is lucky Tomura is his boyfriend.

Keigo gasps when he undoes his pants, pulling them down to his knees and squeezing the flesh of his thighs. Keigo is smooth, clean-shaven, and so soft. His cunt is warm, his cock big and twitching under the layer of his boxers and Tomura’s mouth salivates.

Dabi simply hums as Tomura cusses him out.

“That’s too bad, Keigo,” you whisper. “Tomura, his mouth is fucking amazing. You’d love it, baby.” Keigo is not even looking at his chest. Torn between your lips or Tomura’s fingers cupping his crotch.

“Fuck, what a big cock,” Tomura can feel it. It was half the length of his thumb. He so badly wants to see Keigo and your cock frotagging together. So badly wants to see it fuck into your boycunt.

The first piercing happens and you press a kiss to Keigo’s forehead while Tomura jerks him off through his boxers.

“O-oh, fuck.”

Taishiro and Shota weren’t joking. He definitely understood their point now. His half-on pants were limiting his ability to widen his legs but Tomura sees it as a non-issue. Simply providing the pretty model with his services while his thighs pin his hands between them.

“Good boy,” you murmur against his forehead. It makes Keigo’s throat close and he whines so sweetly, the sound coming out in a rumbly song that makes your eyes crinkle.

“Good boy.”

It makes Keigo whine again and Dabi fixes the jewellery in place.

“Hey, hey, no need to buck,” Tomura chides, pulling his hand away as he pins his hips down. Keigo freezes, wetting his lips as he stares at yours.

“So needy,” you purr out.

The second piercing goes through and Keigo gasps this time, tightening his hold on your hand and you soothe him with kiss on his cheek this time.

He wants to cum. The thought is shocking to Keigo. He doesn’t go against his doms, never even thinks too really. He relishes in rewards and praise.

But.

He wants to cum.

So fucking badly.

“All done, baby,” Dabi stands and Tomura fixes Keigo’s pants up. You still look down at him, like some devilish saint as you blatantly break the one rule imposed on you.

You kiss him and Keigo wants to cum.

But Keigo’s a good boy.

He takes a moment to calm down, the three of you are good at grounding him with easy-to-answer questions and squeezes to his bicep and featherlight touches to his face. When he gets his bearings, he pulls his phone out.

He wants to cum with you, (Y/N).

He’ll show you just how good he can be.

He pretends not to be excited in the taxi cab home when he realises his number was added into a groupchat with all of you.

Fuck, he needs to cum. This taxi cab is not fast enough. He needs to cum now.

Keigo appears in front of Taishiro’s home and the tall man smiles sweetly at his darling pet's flustered expression, Shota greeting him as Keigo walks in.

“Please, please, please.”

You can barely see past your nose. The blindfold across your eyes makes everything darker and fuzzier. This heightens your other senses. You can hear the shibari ropes creak as you breathe and squirm in the air. His beard tickles your thighs and your legs jerk but they don’t move. Your arms are tied behind your back, wrists bound together in a pretty pattern as Shota’s white rope digs into your chest and thighs. Being suspended in air is frightening, you feel like you’re constantly teetered on the edge.

You had no control. Completely defenceless and open. Hung from the ceiling like fresh meat.

It makes your cunt so wet, Shota’s lapping it up like a starved dog. The entire process of him tying you up has made you sink so deep into subspace it made Tomura fully intrigued. The sight of your body going lax as the ropes applied pressure. The sighs of pleasure you let out despite not being touched in any sexual manner.

Tomura has never been interested in shibari before but if he gets to see you like this again, he might talk to Shota way more often for tips.

Fuck, the white rope against your (S/C) skin made him so hard. The sheen of sweat against your skin, running down the curve of your back and thighs — Keigo gags on his dick and Tomura groans out his appreciation. Taishiro chuckles as he guides Keigo’s head up and down Tomura’s member.

“Easy, doll. Relax your throat,” Taishiro reaches under Keigo’s jaw and Dabi feels particularly empty as he sees the way the big man’s cock chubs up. Taishiro can feel Tomura’s dick in Keigo’s throat and he keeps the blonde boy snuggly against his pelvis, when Keigo begins to choke he carefully pulls his head back. Keigo coughs, lips shining with spit as he sticks his tongue out.

Keigo is quiet, Shota tells them. Though he is a confident man on camera — and off — when it comes to intimate moments, Keigo is quiet. He simply prefers to be, to just get lost in the feelings of pleasure. Taishiro told them Keigo will be a bit shy at first is all, that he’ll warm up soon enough.

Soon is now. He’s whining again, looking at the three men in slight distress. “What is it, doll? What do you need?” Taishiro strokes through his hair and Keigo twists his head to look at you.

Fuck. Look at you.

You’re sucking in a breath, back arching as your toes curl from Shota’s talented mouth. Your fingers are indecisive. One second clutching the air and the next, letting go. You’re tossing your head to the side, mouth open as your chest heaves up and down.

The lights in the room make your skin look good enough to eat. You’re a filthy angel caught in the net of a demon named Shota. He’s kneeled as he tastes you, his hair tied into a bun and so deliciously salt-and-peppery it makes Dabi grab at his dick.

Shota’s beard is soaked and you’re losing your mind in the best way possible. They can tell you’rs about cum. They can see it in the vein that threatens to jump out from your neck and the way you’re trying so hard to form sentences but your tongue is like lead and you’re simply saying; please.

Over and over again.

Taishiro tears his eyes away as Keigo paws at his thighs.

He desperately wants to fuck you. Taishiro stifles a laugh, walking past Keigo to sit between Tomura and Dabi, arching a brow as Dabi casually leans down to stroke his thick dick.

“You know the rules, doll. If you wanna fuck him, you gotta ask his daddies.”

“You? Fuck our baby? Think you can even make him cum? He’s very spoiled ya’ know, he’ll whine and kick and yell if you’re not pleasing him,” Tomura says as he taps his lap. Keigo crawls to him, kissing the skin sweetly as he looks up at Tomura.

“I...I can make him cum,” he says quietly. Taishiro reaches over to ruffle Keigo’s head, scratching under his chin. “Keigo’s a very good boy. Shota and I trained him well.”

Tomura pretends to think about it. Keigo begs between his legs, pumping his cock as he kisses up the sides, splattering precum on his chin when it bumps there but not losing a beat as he kisses Tomura’s cockhead.

Shota pulls away from you when he hears footsteps. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand while you catch your breath. Keigo kneels beside him and Tomura settles behind your suspended self. He laughs wickedly when you jump from his sudden touch to your sides.

“A-asshole,” you shakily hiss out. He kisses your arm as an apology while Shota guides Keigo to your dripping cock.

You can tell the difference between them. While Shota’s technique was intent on making you last long and your orgasms gut-punchingly good. Keigo just wants to cum on his face. You squeak at his hunger.

It’s messy. So fucking messy. Your slick is on his lips, his chin, practically dripping down his neck. He uses his fingers to spread your cunt apart and when he plunges his tongue inside, you moan like a true porn star.

Tomura has a hand on Keigo’s head, reaching from behidn your torso as he guides him. Setting a pace that isn’t going to wear out your poor cunt too quickly, despite how tempting the thought of fucking your oversensitive pussy is — Tomura purposefully pushes Keigo’s face in just to hear his muffled groans and your breath hitching as his tongue deeper slips inside at the risk of Keigo losing his ability to breathe.

“Keigo! Fuh - Fuck, feels — Tuh-tuh much! Ngh!”

Keigo looks concerned for a moment but Tomura just smirks.

“Keep going, doll. He can take it. C’mon, this is what you wanted. Right?” Keigo nods and your entire body shakes as you feel an orgasm rip through you. Keigo moans as you cum all over his face, panting beneath you. His hot breath makes you lift your hips, whimpering at the stimulation despite how light it was.

Tomura slaps your cunt and you squeal.

“Just one more time, baby. Keigo’s hungry for you.”

Shota settles next to Dabi, putting him between Taishiro and himself. Dabi lifs his head away from Taishiro’s dick, jaw aching the tiniest bit before he turns to the sight of Shota’s dick. He kisses Shota, licking away you from his lips and lightly sucking on his tongue before he leans down. He kisses the top scars, enjoying the feeling of his chest hair against his face before he goes further down and takes Shota’s hard dick into his mouth.

The man sighs, threading his fingers through Dabi’s inky black hair. Taishiro and him share a kiss, groaning into it for entirely different reasons though both related to Dabi. Shota can feel him pressing just under his dick, rubbing the spot that makes him bite down on Taishiro’s lips.

“Gonna cum?” Dabi purrs, so smug at Shota’s flushed face. It disappears when Taishiro rearranges himself, pressing his crotch to Dabi’s ass.

“Hey —”

“Relax. I’m not going to fuck you. Just grind against you. You’ve got a great ass...and a hot back tattoo.” Dabi shivers as Taishiro’s large hands run down his back. Every time he breathes, the dragons on his back do too and Taishiro wants to paint it with white.

“Colour?” Taishiro asks.

“Green, baby.”

You’re set down on the bed. The air conditioning in the room making your sweat feel a bit cold and uncomfortable but that’s hard to focus on when you feel Shota spread your thighs again.

Keigo is moaning beside you. Open-mouthed gasps and raspy groans as Tomura fucks his asshole. A rule that was implemented by Keigo’s dominants. His cunt was for them and his ass was for their guests. The blindfold that was still on you made it hard to predict his next move but you feel his cock tap onto your hole and you shakily open your legs further. Shota chuckles, sliding his dick up so you feel it rub against your swollen dick.

“Fuck me, please. Just fuck me already.”

“He doesn’t say please much does he?” Dabi laughs at Shota’s comment. It gets cut off by a groan as Taishiro rims his hole, so Tomura answers for him.

“He’s a fucking brat. But we like him that way. Makes us fucking — “ Keigo yelps at a rough thrust, his strap-on slapping onto his wet stomach — “work for it.”

You feel Keigo reach for your wrist and you clasp your hands together, wishing you could see just how wrecked he was. He sounded like he was being fucked within an inch of his life. You wanted to see, but alas, you were given this blindfold because Dabi once again thought it’d only be fair that both subs got some sort of rule.

“Poor Keigo,” he said during the discussion of rules and limitations.

You wanted to punch him in his perfect face —

“Ahh! Oh- oh fuck!”

Shota is fucking you with his dick. It’s thick, stretching your poor cunt out as you squeeze around it. Though not as long, the way he moves his hips as you baring your neck as you toss your head back.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

Keigo wants to kiss you. He twists his torso and you gasp into his mouth, teeth briefly clacking against the other as you made out.

“You look suh-so pretty,” Keigo whispers. You grip onto his hand.

“I wanna see you, please...ngh! Fuck, please, Keigo.”

There you go again. Tempting good Keigo into breaking rules. He seems distraught by your pleas and Tomura grips his hair. He yowls, asshole stretching as Tomura pushes in deeper.

“Shota, turn him onto his hands and knees. Need to shut our darling (Y/N) up before he corrupts your obedient doll more.”

Dabi has Taishiro pinned to the end of the bed. Fucking up into him as he watches you suck Keigo’s silicone cock. It’s truly a talent you have. Slobbering over dick despite how good someone is fucking into your pussy.

Dabi is so proud of you.

“Dabi, guh-god, those piercings,” Taishiro chokes out. “Feels good, doesn’t it, big guy?” Taishiro nods, clutching onto the already soiled bedsheets.

Keigo is going insane. You’re sucking his dick and you look so fucking good. Licking his tip, kissing the sides and taking it into your mouth. He moans with each action, entranced by how sincere your actions are. He bucks into your mouth despite Tomura not moving and thrusts into your mouth and back into Tomura completely unprompted.

Ah, he wants to see you look up at him. He can feel you moan around his dick as Shota fucks into you and he wants to see your eyes flutter and go cross eyed. Tomura laughs as Keigo wretches his hands away to rip your blindfold off.

Youre disorientated for a minute. Adjusting to the lights as you struggle to breathe through your nose.

Keigo feels shame but vindication. You’re looking up at him and fuck you’re beautiful.

“Bad boy,” Taishiro reprimands.

But Keigo doesn’t care. Because you pull away, tongue stuck out and grinning.

You looked so proud of him.

Keigo cums around Tomura’s dick, you take his cockhead into your mouth and he’s grateful as he imagines himself cumming down your throat.

You’re kissing up Keigo’s chest, stroking his sides as all of you come down. Panting and soft moans echoed through the room as aftershocks of pleasure ran through everyone's nerves.

Shota is the first to get up, but Tomura forbids it as he circles his waist and pulls back down in the mess of sweaty bodies. “Stay,” he whispers and Shota nods as he cradles Tomura’s head to his chest. Taishiro lay on Dabi’s lap, he was itching for a cigarette but he remained on the large bed just watching over everyone for a moment.

“Baby,” he whispers to Taishiro. “I’m gonna get us water, can I do that?” Taishiro appreciates the gentleness Dabi is exhibiting. He lifts his head and Dabi slips out the room to get everyone some refreshments. He places it by the bedside tables, wiping down you and Keigo.

“Want Keigo’s dick in you?” you nod at Dabi’s question, curling your leg across his hips tighter and Keigo turns to kiss your forehead.

Dabi, Shota, Tomura and Taishiro chuckle at the sight. They slowly sit up, chatting quietly whilst wiping themselves down.

“We should definitely do this again,” Dabi says whilst Tomura cleans his back. Shota leans against Taishiro’s soft front, nodding as he strokes Keigo’s back.

“I agree. I’d love to teach your brat manners.”

You huff and simply hide your face in Keigo’s neck. The blonde smiles, simply allowing you too.

“And I’d love corrupting your doll,” you reply smugly.

“So, we’re all in agreement,” Taishiro coos out.

“Fuck yeah, we are, are you kidding me?” Tomura scoffs. “There is no way this is just a one time thing. B’sides, look at those two bottoms, they’re attached already.”

“Hm,” Dabi muses. “It’d be mean to pull them away. Poor Keigo, poor (Y/N).”

Your body is protesting the thought but, fuck, you cannot wait for the next time. Keigo can feel you clench around his cock and he thinks the same as you.

[a-ikuoliver]

the black screen lights up, the strength of the vibration of the notification nudging your phone aside an inch, then another, catching it seconds before it slips to the floor, you breathe a sigh of relief. clutching a hand to your chest, you finally check the flashing text that nearly sent your phone below to it's death, your pupils contracting and dilating at the shift in brightness, zeroing in on the text: 'i have to get this off my chest...' your gaze flicks upward, the sequence of numbers at the top of the screen not one you recognised, not one of the many saved to your contacts 'i love you.' your eyebrows furrow at the centre glancing at the number again, who was this?

hi loves!!! in celebration of hitting a milestone i'm attempting to host a collab focused all around anonymous/secret love confessions! an unknown number confessing over text! a note dropped onto your desk from a pining co-worker, an unmarked letter in your mailbox from a neighbour, the faceless person on the other end of the helpline you call, a fan sliding into your dms, a yandere who thinks this is the perfect moment to confess! whatever strikes your interest! onto the fun stuff:

GUIDELINES:

- this is an 18+ event, blank blogs and minors will be blocked if you interact with this event. - all fandoms/pairings/characters welcome - all genres welcome [including dark content; please tag any triggers] - multiple entries/submissions are okay [eg. multiple bakugou/satoru/etc entries from different people AND/OR if one writer wants to submit multiple different works] - please tag me in your work + link this post + tag your post with #io's confessions collab🩷 - no submission due date [i will eventually close the event itself but it doesn't matter when you submit your work] - you don't need to be following me but i'd appreciate reblogging this post when you enter <3 - there is no minimum or maximum word count - love confessions prompt lists [x] [x] [x] + more general prompts under my #「writing prompts」 tag [not necessary but just here in case <3] - special mention to my love @unearthsaturn for all their help MWAH

STATUS: OPEN (closing date tba) HOW TO ENTER:

send me an ask or message with your character/pairing and i'll add you to the masterlist [below]! have your age in your bio before interacting

MASTERLIST | legend: ♡ sfw | 𖥔 nsfw | ਏਓ dark content

JUJUTSU KAISEN:

title tba [suguru getou x reader] | 𖥔 ਏਓ — @a-ikuoliver tw: stalking + yandere themes description tba

title tba [professor!suguru getou x reader] | ਏਓ — @sharkbait-toji tw: yandere themes description tba

BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA:

BETWEEN THE LINES [sero hanta x reader] | — @unearthsaturn description tba

BETWEEN THE NOTES & HEARTBEATS [bakugou katsuki x reader] | ♡ — @peachsukii — endless nights of studying for exams and listening to music until 3am have paid off as you and bakugo prepare to graduate from college! realizing that his nights spent with you are about to end, he decides the best way to tell you how he feels is through one final playlist.

title tba [todoroki enji x reader] | 𖥔 — @081231 description tba

title tba [midoriya izuku x reader] | 𖥔 ਏਓ — @izuwus tw: yandere themes description tba

title tba [bakugou katsuki x reader] | 𖥔 — @a-ikuoliver description tba

title tba [todoroki touya x reader] | ♡ — @weirdovictor tw: hurt/comfort + heavy topics [self harm + borderline disorder] description tba

all graphics are made by me <3

[dummy-dot-exe]

Professor Ivy from Pokemon by Touya! ★@Touyarokii

[yukimiyaz]

INSUFFERABLE

todoroki touya x gn!reader

includes: dabi is a shameless flirt lol. brief dire mention bc he’s a dumbass. you fall for his antics

notes: he’s so. dumb. i hate him lol

Sometimes you envy the students whose professors’ lock their doors as soon as class starts. 

The ones that provide that immediate punishment for the students who don’t care enough to show up on time, not giving them so much as a minute past the beginning of lecture to slip in. If they’re late they miss, it’s nothing more than a product of their carelessness and they deserve it. 

Sadly, your biology professor is not one of those people. 

Which is fine for your peers who rush in only five, ten, hell—even fifteen minutes late. Their hair wet from just getting out of the shower or clothes wrinkled from having just rolled out of their cramped dorm bed because they forgot to set their alarm. You can understand that; empathize with the plague that is eight a.m. classes. 

Who you absolutely cannot empathize with is the guy who sits next to you. The one who walks in not ten, not twenty, no—thirty minutes late at the very least into lecture, and doesn’t give two shits about not being disruptive. Lets the door slam shut behind him and his scuffed combat boots stomp heavily down the aisle and shuffle with an unneeded amount of noise before plopping down in the chair next to you. 

He’s simply insufferable, truly. With his box dye black hair and chipped fingernail polish and the intricate canvas of tattoos that sweeps from his jaw down his arms and disappears somewhere below the ridge of his perfectly carved collar bones that look absolutely—whatever. He’s annoying. That’s the point here. And today is, of course, no different. 

“Hey, dollface,” Dabi smirks as he sits down, then immediately scrapes his chair over to you. You think today is a new record, a whole forty-one minutes late. You wonder why he even bothered to show up at all. 

You don’t address him, not at first. You merely send over a half assed side glance as a form of acknowledgement. That is, until something glimmering catches your eye. (Something that isn’t the piercings or rings you’ve become accustomed to over the past month). 

“Why do you have that?” You half whisper-half hiss at him, staring down at the object twirling around his fingers. 

“What? ‘S just a lighter.” He flicks it open to show you, as if you couldn’t tell before, then snaps it right back shut. 

You roll your eyes, turn your attention back to your professor. Just fifteen more minutes and you’re out of here and far away from him. “Obviously.” You sigh, bounce your leg subtly. “Don’t light that in here.” 

And you don’t think you should really have to say that, and you don’t know why there’s an unease bubbling in your stomach due to his presence—but you do and it’s there. And it only increases as you catch the smirk slicing deeper across his face out of the corner of your eye. 

“Or what?” Dabi questions, scrapes his chair even closer to you, opens the lighter again. “Whatcha gonna do about it, doll?” 

“Seriously don—“ 

“Oops,” he grins, wide and cheeky as his thumb flicks the lighter on. He’s holding it up, like he doesn’t give a shit whether the professor catches him with it or not. Like he has no worry for the trouble it could cause. 

“What’re you—stop that.” You can’t believe him, seriously, and the audacity he has for disregarding basic rules. “If you get caught with that inside you could get fined.” 

“Pfft, please.” And this time it’s his turn to roll his eyes at you, scoffing under his breath. “You have to be a student here to get fined.” 

You blink at him. Once, twice. “Huh?” 

“What?” He hums, waves his finger over the flame disinterestedly, not even looking to make sure he doesn’t hold it over it too long and burn himself. “I don’t have to worry about stupid ass fines.” 

“Yeah, but—what do you mean you aren’t a student here?” 

Your lecture is long forgotten, your professor’s voice fading out into static as you stare at the man beside you. That uneasiness in your stomach is twisting, stirring around in a way that’s a little uncomfortable. Because sure, you knew the guy was a little odd. But not being a student? Showing up to your classes all the time? Hanging around campus? What if he’s some sort of creep, or stalker, or— 

“Woah there, sweetheart. It’s not what you’re thinking, I'm not some freak or anything. My dad’s the uni president. I get to sit in on whatever classes I want for free. No need to alert the authorities.” 

Oh. 

Your cheeks heat up, a flush rising so fast as well as the want to hide under the table. Silly you, of course he wouldn’t be some creep. I mean, he might be a tad creepy, but that’s not necessarily a crime. 

(He’d be a cute creep, you think. Then mentally tell yourself to shut up). 

“I wasn’t going to do that,” you huff, still looking at him. You aren’t sure why, but his eyes look particularly blue today; more than normal. Maybe it’s because you’re finally allowing yourself to look, a full proper look at your—sort of—peer. “For the record.” 

“Sure,” Dabi chuckles, leans a little closer to you. His fingers mindlessly play with the necklace dangling around your throat. You don’t know why you let him. “So that wasn’t a total how do I discreetly call 911? expression then?” 

“Definitely not,” you dismiss, tapping your pen to your notebook. “It was a man this guy’s so lame he goes to class in his free time expression.” 

Dabi winces, an exaggerated thing that you hate to admit is a little charming. “Ouch, lame? You wound me, dollface. Right in the heart.” 

“You’ll live.” And it’s minute, a little twitch of your lips before you can catch yourself, but it’s there. And Dabi catches it, pointing a finger annoyingly close to your face. 

“Was that a smile, hm? Did I just make my little doll smile?” He teases, prods his finger into your cheek. If you had any idea where it’d been you might lean forward to bite it off. 

“One,” you tut, pinching his digit between two of your own and pulling it away from your face. “I’m not your doll. And two, not a chance. You’re imagining things.” 

“Oh no no, definitely not,” Dabi presses, devilish tilt to his mouth. “That was a smile. Finally falling for me, that it?” 

“Uhm, excuse me—“ 

“Not now,” the man in front of you cuts off the person’s voice from behind, giving them a cold look, “We’re busy, thanks. Anyways, as I was—“ 

“Sorry, it’s just—“ 

“I said we’re busy,” Dabi grits, brows cutting deep as he snaps his head back over his shoulder. “Or did you not hear me?” 

“I did, but—“ 

“What?!” 

“Their jacket’s on fire.” 

Whatever snark Dabi might’ve wanted to push out at your fellow classmate dissolves immediately as the both of you snap your eyes down. And sure enough, right where Dabi has his lighter open—the one you told him not to light—the edge of your jacket has just caught on fire. 

“Oh shit,” Dabi curses, snapping the lighter shut and tugging it back from your jacket as he watches you frantically pat it out with a sleeve covered hand. 

You’re successful—thank god you don’t burst entirely into flames—but the corner of your jacket (your favorite one, mind you) is now very obviously scorched. Your eyes snap up to meet cerulean blue and what little bit of uneasiness left in your stomach turns into a boiling fit of rage. 

Completely disregarding the lecture (that you admittedly weren’t paying attention to anyways) you shove everything into your bag and get up from your seat to leave. You make your way out of the lecture hall absolutely fuming and don’t miss a single beat as you turn on your heel to yell at the man behind you as soon as the door shuts. 

“You’re absolutely unbearable!” You grouse, jabbing your finger into Dabi’s chest. “Seriously! I can't believe you.” 

“Oh c’mon. ‘M sorry! I didn’t mean to, it was just an accident—“ 

“I told you not to light it. But no,” you groan, and you seriously want to rip your hair out, or punch him, or something. “You just had to act like a tough guy. Mr. Too Cool To Be A Student Here. You lit me on fire!” 

“I didn’t mean to! I said I was sorry!” 

“I don’t care! I could’ve been burnt up in a crisp!” 

“But you weren’t!” He defends. “It's not a big deal.” 

“It is to me, this was my favorite jacket. You know, just because you’re hot and have some big shot dad doesn’t mean you can just do whatever you want!” 

“Well obviously, because if I could do whatever I wanted then I'd be doing you!” 

The both of you pause for a moment, catch your breaths through slightly labored pants as you stare at each other. It’s like the gears are turning in both your heads simultaneously, cogs clicking into place and smoke clearing in the workshop. 

“Did you just admit you think I'm hot?” 

“Did you just say you want to do me?” 

A part of you wishes your jacket was still on fire, because at least then you could try to justify that as the reason your cheeks are suddenly burning. You turn your face away from him, adjust the bag slung over your shoulder. You’re thankful you’re the only two in the hallway, or else you’d probably die from embarrassment right now. 

“Well, how ‘bout I make it up to you then?” 

You let your gaze drift back up to meet Dabi’s, staring into tattoo and mascara framed eyes suspiciously. You narrow your vision, tip your head to the side as you watch that shitty (read: thigh clenching) smirk make its way back to his lips. 

“And how do you plan on doing that?” You tense up a little as he takes a step closer to you and digs a pen out of your bag. Then he grips your wrist—gently, despite the firm hold—and scribbles across your palm. 

“I’ll be outside your dorm at eight,” he grins, dropping the pen back into your bag when he’s done. “Wear something hot. ‘N I don’t mean the burnt kind.” 

You shove his shoulder at the remark, glancing down at your palm to see what you’re guessing is his phone number. “Asshole.” 

He simply catches your wrist again, tugs you close enough that he has perfect range to dip down and kiss your cheek. And if you weren’t flushing before you certainly are now, eyes going wide against your will as you watch him let go of you and take backward steps away. He throws you a wink, chuckles when he sees you snap out of it and scoff at him. 

“Insufferable!” You call after him. And you don’t try to hide your smile this time. Don’t try to veil your expressions. 

“Irresistible!” He corrects, sticking his tongue out and making a corny call me gesture with his hand when you flip him off. 

And you wonder if you should wear your scorched jacket tonight simply to spite him. 

[autumnmobile12]

My Hero Academia AU: Ambush Simulation

Aight, storytime:

So awhile back, I was thinking about Episodes 4 & 5 of the anime Soul Eater where the gang is tasked with capturing two villains, the zombie Sid and the guy who resurrected him, Professor Stein.  (There’s also the added stakes that if they fail in this task, they’ll be expelled from school.)  After a somewhat harrowing fight, defeating Sid and losing to Stein, the plot twist is this was never a real fight, Stein and Sid were not villains, and this whole thing was just a test that was orchestrated and sanctioned by the school and definitely skewed more toward hazing than actual education.

And I thought, what if that’s all the Vanguard Action Squad was during the Summer Camp Arc?  Just a test orchestrated by UA that skewed more toward hazing than actual education. (Note:  These are the traditional LoV members, so Muscular, Mustard, and Moonfish are not part of this line-up.) At the very least, that would probably be the meanest ruse Aizawa has pulled. And you can't tell me Principal Nezu wouldn't have been all in for this plan.

"It happened once at the USJ. Despite our precautions, it could happen again. Let's teach them how to prepare...by scaring the absolute shit out of them."

"Ambush Simulation" is playing off my earlier AU comic with Shigaraki being the adopted nephew of All Might and leading a pretty normal life.  The rest of the squad is more or less in the same boat. For context, Touya’s canon divergence is he returned home after the three-year comatose and actually stayed there, but since nothing about that household environment really changed, he’s still an unhinged mess, but that is a whole other kettle of fish best saved for another comic. (Clearly getting a kick out of the prospect of scaring a bunch of kids, including his brother, half to death, though.)  Toga’s home life is rocky at best after ‘the incident,’ but she’s no longer a runaway teen.  Everybody else just kinda fell in with each other.

Their role as a vigilante team was inspired by the series Durarara!, specifically Kadota and his crew for anyone who's familiar. I genuinely forgot the Vigilantes spinoff existed...sigh, it's been awhile and I only recently got back in this fandom. The Vanguard is pretty much living by a 'you're only in trouble if you get caught,' philosophy. (And the nepotism has probably saved all their asses a few times because it doesn't look good for the No. 2 Hero if his eldest son is busted for vigilantism.)

Anyway, there's a few other details that I can't fit in this post, so head over here if you want to read more behind the scenes of making this thing.

[summercreolefanfictioner]

the scent wafts in, her name making him beg on his knees chap 2.3

pairing: dabi / todoroki touya x fem!oc / reader (MODERN AU)

chapter summary: the moment Touya delves into trouble, and it involved a certain woman and watching a romance movie with his new friends

themes: non-explicit nsfw, violence, alcoholism, cigarette smoking, toxic relationships, mental health, co-dependency and other related themes (YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED)

notes: wrting a bit about cheating and the lore of toxic relationships on this chap was a pain; and yes, no Himiko Toga's were harmed in this fic

"How did you know about this, Dabi-kun?" Himiko marveled at the sight from the backseat, curious eyes taking note of the parking lot that plays free romance movies every Saturday at 9 PM. One might think it was all cheesy and serving, but Touya knew it was a ploy for couples who wanted to get it on while the movie plays in the background. Basically, a place where you can legally have car sex, and no one would bat an eye.

"I just knew," Touya muttered, reaching behind the back to get some of the snacks they had bought earlier. Twice was somewhere far from the vehicles taking a cig, something about accidentally setting the place on fire if he took a smoke near engines.

Himiko blustered, "You took one of your exes here, I bet." There was a disgusted sound at the end as she rolled her eyes and folded her arms in her chest.

"If you knew the answer, then why bother asking?" Touya pointed out (it wasn't true; as if he would), arranging his rearview mirror to secretly check on the woman. So far, she was taking everything well. She wasn't looking at her phone like the expected paranoid girlfriend who still dates the same guy who cheats on her 24/7.

Himiko turned to the woman. "Hey, I'm Toga Himiko," she introduced, taking her hand in hers and rubbing her cheeks on it. "You're so pretty, do you know that? Does your boyfriend always tell you that?"

"I... Nice to meet you, T-Toga-chan," she meekly responded. "I'm..." she says her name, "Thank you."

Himiko was delighted at the sound of her name, a gasp following after. "You really are sooooo pretty, Sahara-chan!"

"It's..." Touya corrected, pronouncing her name per syllable. "Her name's not the famous desert, you brat."

Himiko only stuck out her tongue at him, ignoring his mocking tone as she focused again on the woman beside her. "Do you also like romance, Sahara-chan?" Himiko asked and said woman could hear Touya snorting at the foolish nickname. "I like romance. I like them, a lot, lot, LOT!"

"I... well... er—"

Before he could hear more of their girl talk, Touya already stepped out of the car and joined Twice to smoke. The movie was already playing out, the plot was something about a woman who fell in love with a married man and took solace in a place where she would do her penance for being his side piece. After smoking, they both returned to the car and saw both women engrossed in the movie.

"Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh," Himiko muttered excitedly, munching on her snacks as the woman watched quietly beside her. "What would happen to Prof. Kitano? Will he still be with Sawa? Oh no!"

Touya glanced at her briefly, noting how she was so focused on the film, especially on the Noriko character. In the film, Noriko is the professor's wife, and she can't fathom the fact that she is being pointed as the bad guy when her husband and his side piece are seeing each other again. She must've felt the scene so familiar to her like it was taken from a real-life experience. There was hurt in her eyes; fleeting, flying, leaving her all at once before she realized the reality she was in, finding Touya staring at her before quickly looking away.

When the credits rolled, Himiko was crying tears due to the bittersweet ending while the other was just comforting her. Twice and Touya realized two things: the movie was literally about the consequences of infidelity, and the fact that she has never once taken her phone out; not even to check if her boyfriend has called her or what.

"I can't believe you saved up to let that bitch watch a film about cheating," Touya commented.

"But Toga-chan wanted it!" Twice argued.

"Check movie ratings first before saving up, dumbass!"

Touya drove them back to the bar, with Twice and Himiko getting out before saluting Touya with the latter's signature middle finger. She was also about to open the door when he said, "I'll drive you home. Just tell me where it is."

"There's no need for that, umm?"

"Dabi."

"Yes, Dabi-kun. There's no need for that. My boyfriend is still inside. Maybe we could—"

Touya was running out of patience, slamming the door open and getting out of the car, slightly scaring her as he opened the door on her side and dragged her out by force, pulling her arm harshly and trapping her against the wall. It was the same position he saw her boyfriend in, thrusting his dick in and out of the cocktail server as he wrapped her legs around his waist. He was making her feel for herself that same disgust he saw.

He didn't know why she was the best target of his mockery tonight. There was just something about her, and he still couldn't figure it out.

"You knew what he was doing out there." He leaned close, almost whispering in her ear as she looked away, her hands in her chest like she was crossing her heart, and hoped this would not end as bad as it gets. "You knew who he laid his eyes on. Don't tell me he might still be there, you useless woman."

Touya expected her to cry, to hear her sniff and swallow her pride as he made a fool out of her. Women like her like to live in the delusion that their man who cheats so constantly will change their mind; that they will see the light and change their ways. They won't, unfortunately. It's what they get for believing sappy romance shits. It's the price they pay for an illusion that will never be.

But she didn't react the way someone like her would. She didn't budge. She didn't do what he wanted. She was just looking down, contemplating her next move as Touya was not taking his eyes off of hers.

"I know that very well. I... I am just glad you went out of your way to get me out there and tell me that you saw him, Dabi-kun," she mumbled, her heart still on her chest. "I really... really enjoyed today."

The fuck?

She sighed, finally looking up at him shyly as if reminiscing something. "Today was actually the day when we would celebrate my promotion, and I am happy that I went to the movies with you three instead."

Touya huffed, finally letting go of her and stepping away. So does that mean she's so used to it? Or maybe she allows him to play with other women? Wait. No. Nevermind. I shouldn't know the answer.

"My apartment's not far from here," she notified, finally sighing in relief. "I can walk from here. Thank you again, Dabi-kun. Please send my regards to Twice-san and Toga-chan."

She was about to walk away when Touya grabbed her arm. He should pull away slowly, should let her run to where she lives, and never return here.

You idiot.

"I'll still drive you," he murmured, feeling a bit guilty about his earlier behavior. He shouldn't meddle. He shouldn't be involved. He dragged her out there because he was bored, and nothing else. Her love problems are her own. They would never see each other again after this. This was just boredom, and he was hungry for entertainment. Yes, that was it. Nothing else.

"I want to."

Fuck boredom.

"Oh." She smiled softly at his offer. "Okay."

------

She really was just a few minutes walking distance from the bar, walking out of his car and almost bowing respectfully before he followed her and told her he'd walk her to her door. What a gentleman, he was, far from the Dabi who did not give a shit if the woman went home safe or not. He guessed he was weak for women like her. But like what exactly? What was so different about her?

Sure, she was really pretty, wearing his jacket over her tight dress as she tried to walk properly in her stilettos. But was it all it took for him to be like this? He didn't think so. Well, he'll find out anyway.

"Well, this is my unit," she announced then bowed to him. "Thank you again, Dabi-kun. Have a great night!"

And when he went in his car, her scent lingered there. The scent of fresh laundry and morning spring. She might be near the area, but there was no way, she would appear in the bar again.

Until he saw her cardholder in the backseat of his car and realized she was still holding onto his favorite jacket.

ps. Himiko and the woman were watching Hirugao the movie (not safe for minors in Japan ya know)

next chapter

masterlist

[somesprucetrees]

Late submission for #chubbyMHAFall run by @fatfandomevents

A sweet-on-the-outside coffee shop AU featuring Touya, the drop-out son of engineering Professor Todoroki. His intro to engineering courses are almost impossible to pass, but he also doesn’t password protect his g00gle drive. So Touya has no qualms about sharing his dad’s course documents with struggling twinks in exchange for treats and free meals.

It’s been going on for a few years, and all those “study sessions” have started to show. He used to be a slender, lanky little punk. But now he’s a barrel of a man. He’s the overfed version of his disciplined, strict father. Touya knows he’ll get caught eventually, but he wanna sees how far he can get before his dad notices. Of course his dad comments on his weight, but he can’t complain because Touya wasn’t a leathered up emo kid anymore. He dresses well and doesn’t cause trouble in campus like he used to before he dropped out.

Tomura is his newest meal ticket. He’s not the first to stare at him, but he is the first in awhile to be so obvious about it. Maybe Touya can talk him into breakfast too.

[ask-amaryllis-academy]

Splash@Ouma: Hello~ sir! I’ve never been to this academy before, it looks very nice! Can you tell me more about it? And what do you teach here?

"Oh! And to answer your other question! I teach theater~☆Though I...sometimes substitute for Professor Indoloth whenever he- hehe... I better not say~"

Touya grumbles. " 'n before you ask me the same question, I teach graphic design..."

Touya (Prof. Ishibashi) is open for asks!

(Featuring Splash from: @ask-a-bunch-of-mons ! Sorry it took a thousand years haha)

[haleigh-sloth]

This chapter would have been fine if they hadn't thrown in the tidbit about Touya slowly dying, Why did we go through all that for? For him to still die (hopefully not)? Then the Todoroki family will go through the tragedy of losing him again?

He defied the odds in the past. Hopefully, he'll do it again now that he has a reason to live for. I'm hoping for some type of miraculous recovery.

In the best case scenario, Tenko is alive and has a healing quirk that he can use on Touya. I just don't want Touya to die after all of that.

Hopefully Horikoshi is just fucking with all of us once last time before he ends this manga.

Tenko saving his physical condition is one option, though I’m skeptical of that. I feel Tenko helping spinner out is more in the cards since he really underwent some permadamage. Toga just needed blood transfusions lol.

With Touya, his tear ducts are back. It’s been made such an emphasis that he can’t cry. But now he can. Phosphor from Shouto I’m GUESSING (key word here) has healing properties. Especially because the science behind phosphor has a red and white form, and the white form is a flame retardant. I’d link you to the meta by @/Hamliet wrote a while back, who got all of this information from her organic chemistry professor sister, but I’d have to dig for it and I don’t feel like it. She might have the link if you ask her or search for it in her blog.

I think the emphasis on his tears, the fact that he has them after talking to Shouto, the creator of phosphor, shouldn’t be ignored imo.