Hey everyone, just a heads up—things kind of got a little wild in this chapter, lol!
This was my first attempt at writing anything close to smut, so I hope I didn't disappoint. I'm aiming to improve in the future chapters. Fingers crossed! Also, I just watched the new Dsquared2 show and saw this pink shirt that screamed Toya, so of course, I had to put him in it. Someone please draw him in that shirt!
Enjoy!
Aya's POV
Toya's teeth sank into my leg, sharp and sudden, like a stray dog testing its bite. The shock of it sent a jolt up my spine. I yelped, fumbling the tray in my hands, and watched as gravity took over, sending a cascade of chaos in motion. The mess unfolded in slow motion—Toya, sitting on the carpet, threw himself backward just in time to avoid a direct hit, but not without catching a chestful of Coke. Dark liquid splattered across his white shirt and onto the carpet, staining everything it touched.
Typical.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I snapped, barely able to contain my frustration as he surveyed the mess, his expression almost amused.
"I just wanted you to sit down," he said, his voice dripping with faux innocence. He looked up at me with a wry grin. "Now you've got me all wet, princess."
Katsuki groaned, the slap of his palm meeting his face loud enough to punctuate the disaster. Meanwhile, Deku and Ochaco sprang into action as if we were dealing with something far more pressing than spilled soda. Deku darted off toward the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, "I'll grab a cloth!" as if that would somehow save the evening.
Ochaco knelt, gathering the scattered remnants of the tray. "Are you hurt?"she asked, concerned for Toya, who didn't deserve it in the slightest.
Toya scoffed, barely acknowledging her. "Not a scratch," he muttered, offering me his hand. I hesitated, then grabbed it, pulling him to his feet. His drenched shirt clung to him like a second skin, revealing his toned abs through the soaked fabric. The whole scene was shaping up to be the kind of chaotic mess only a day with Toya could deliver.
Deku returned with the wet cloth, his face set in determination as he dabbed at the sticky mess now embedded in the carpet. The room's atmosphere crackled with the uneasy silence that followed Toya's Coke shower.
"What a disaster. Now your shirt's ruined," I muttered, tugging at the stained fabric stuck to his chest. My annoyance simmered; it was clear this situation was spiraling.
"It's not the end of the world," Toya replied, brushing off my attempt to help. He grabbed my hand, his grip surprisingly firm. I pulled it back, my cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and irritation. Katsuki and Ochaco had caught the moment, but mercifully chose silence over snarky comments.
"Aren't you pissed about the carpet? " Katsuki asked, his tone deceptively casual.
"No, the carpet doesn't bother me," I babbled before I realized what he was getting at. He wasn't worried about the carpet; he was trying to gauge what was going on between me and Toya.
"I was planning to wash the whites tomorrow anyway," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Might as well take care of it now. Hand over your shirt."
"And what am I supposed to wear while you play laundry fairy?" Toya shot back, eyebrow raised. "Don't you dare suggest I wear some dude's castoffs. If you offer, I'll spit fire."
"I don't have spare men's clothes lying around, but you can wear something of mine," I replied, trying to sound calm. "It won't fit perfectly, but I've got a washing machine and a dryer. You'll have your shirt back in two hours."
He sulked, brow furrowed, clearly thinking it over. "Fine," he said eventually, mischief gleaming in his eyes. "But I pick what I wear."
I sighed. "Whatever. Just get this over with."
Ochaco chimed in, "We can try cleaning the carpet while you sort that out." Deku nodded, eager to defuse the brewing tension.
"That would be really nice of you," I replied, gesturing toward the kitchen. "There's a small bucket and detergent under the sink. Help yourselves." I headed to the bedroom, Toya trailing behind.
"And feel free to raid the fridge if you're hungry!" I called back, trying to salvage what was left of my crumbling evening.
"Okay!" came their cheerful chorus, a bright note against the backdrop of my spiraling thoughts.
Toya flopped onto the mattress with the ease of someone completely at home in chaos, his gaze fixed on me, playful but dangerous. "Alright," he drawled, eyes glinting with mischief. "Let's see what you've got in thatslutty little closetof yours."
I shot him a glare. "My closet isn't slutty. You just have the fashion sense of a caveman," I snapped, rolling my eyes as I opened the door. I pulled out a loose black shirt and held it up. "This should fit without being too tight."
Toya didn't even bother giving it a second glance before tossing it aside like yesterday's trash. "Ugly," he declared, smirking. "Show me something else."
I felt my patience wear thin. My fingers itched to throttle him, but instead, I turned back to the closet, yanking out a long tank top I sometimes used as a dress. "This work?" I held it out, but his dramatic sigh was enough to shatter any hope. With a sudden movement, Toya stood, looming over me for a brief, unsettling moment.
Then he pushed me aside with casual arrogance. "Move. You've got no clue what I want." I stumbled back, blinking, equal parts annoyed and surprised at the audacity. He rifled through my clothes like it was his birthright, fingers pulling at hangers and tossing garments aside with blatant disregard.
Finally, his eyes lit up as he pulled out a baby pink shirt adorned with a kitten holding a knife, the words'Cute & Nasty'printed on it.
"Oh, what's this?" Toya's eyes gleamed with mischief, a grin creeping across his face.
I sighed, already knowing where this was headed. "It won't fit. It's way too tight for you."
He ignored me, holding it up like it was some priceless relic. "Cute & Nasty," he read aloud with deliberate slowness, savoring every syllable. "Just like me," he blinked at the shirt, a wicked thrill dancing across his features.
"Toya, you can't wear that," I hissed, leaning in as if sharing state secrets. "They'll laugh at you."
He pressed the shirt to his face, inhaling deeply like some kind of deranged addict. "Don't sniff it!" I shouted, lunging to grab it from him, but he dodged with ease, holding the shirt just out of reach, that damned grin never fading.
"You sleep in this, don't you?" he teased, his tone laced with an infuriating playfulness.
I hesitated, then sighed. "Yeah. Which is exactly why youshouldn'twear it."
His grin widened, wicked. "Then that's exactly why Iwillwear it."
Before I could stop him, Toya darted out of the bedroom, the kitten shirt flapping like some victorious flag. I sighed, trailing after him, but stopping short in the living room. Deku and Ochaco were still scrubbing the carpet with military precision, while Katsuki sat in front of the TV, arms crossed, glaring at the destruction being reported on the news. Images of Tokyo in flames, Nomus rampaging through the streets—it felt like the apocalypse was unfolding right outside our window, while inside, chaos of a different sort reigned.
"Where the hell are you?" Toya's voice echoed from the bathroom, cutting through the tension.
"Just clean up and change already. Then I'll deal with your shirt." I called, stepping closer to the bathroom door and waiting for him to finish. But he had other plans.
"You'll have to help me," he hissed, flinging the door open and yanking me inside before locking it with a quick click. He plopped onto the toilet lid, exhaling dramatically like he'd just escaped a fiery battlefield. "Finally, we're all alone..."
I rolled my eyes. "You have your Shigaraki to thank for this mess, so don't complain," I shot back, kneeling by the washing machine, mentally preparing for whatever absurdity he'd unleash next.
His voice was lazy, like he was on the verge of boredom, but there was an edge beneath it. "How was I supposed to know you'd be stuck at home playing babysitter today?"
I heard the soft rustle of fabric, and suddenly, his shirt tumbled over my head, enveloping me in his scent. It was a complex brew: tobacco, smoke, coke and the acrid tang of burnt flesh, mingling with the faint metallic undertone of blood. But beneath it all, there was something... sweet. Barely noticeable, but undeniably present. It clung to the fabric, lurking like a ghost among the stronger odors, elusive yet oddly comforting.
I tossed his shirt into the laundry basket. "How about you villains just stop screwing around altogether? Then you'd have me all to yourself again,"I teased, throwing the whites into the washing machine. The water churned noisily, filling the small space with its steady hum.
Toya let out a soft sigh behind me, his voice carrying an unexpected weight. "It's not that simple, princess."
I turned, and my breath caught. He sat there, shirtless on the toilet lid, like some tragic yet arrogant figure in a deranged play. It was an image that stuck—his body was more toned than I'd expected, muscles lean but defined, cutting across his chest and abdomen, burned yet oddly appealing.
I huffed, turning away before my thoughts could drift any further into dangerous territory. "Why don't you just wash the sugar off and get dressed already?"
I hated how uneasy he made me. Normally, seeing someone shirtless wouldn't rattle me—after all, I'd worked with colleagues and students at U.A., seen them stripped down by nurses for treatment. I'd had partners, too, so it wasn't as if a naked man was foreign territory. But there was something about Toya. Something that set my nerves on edge, like standing too close to a live wire.
Behind me, I could practically feel his smirk, the weight of his words hanging in the air like smoke.
"I was hoping you'd lick it off my body, considering how much you love sweet things."
A headache bloomed behind my eyes. Of course, he'd say something like that. I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to will away both the throbbing in my head and the growing tension in the room. "Don't tell me you planned all of this."
"Maybe," he replied, his voice taking on that dangerous lilt that always made my pulse quicken. Before I could react, his hand shot out, wrapping around my arm. In a single motion, I was yanked onto his lap, the suddenness of it stealing my breath.
I tried to rise, but his hands gripped my hips, forcing me back down with a firm yet teasing pressure. "Nope, not going anywhere, little one," he whispered against the back of my neck, his breath warm, almost scalding.
A shiver shot down my spine, and I cursed myself for it. Of course, Toya didn't miss it—he never missed anything. His breath ghosted over my skin as his lips curved into a wicked smile.
"Oh? So that's how it is…" he teased, his voice low, the words drawn out just enough to make me flinch again. I could feel the heat rising up my neck, the telltale flush betraying me even further. He didn't need to see my face to know.
He always knew.
The room felt smaller, the air thicker. Each second stretched, my heartbeat loud in my ears, pounding in time with the pulse at my neck. His hands, still resting on my hips, were light enough to be mocking but firm enough to keep me exactly where he wanted.
"Stop it, you're annoying," I muttered, trying to maintain control as I pressed my hand to my ear, blocking him out. But Toya's insolence had reached a new level. His fingers curled around my wrist, pulling my hand away. He leaned closer, his breath like a hot whisper against my skin. "Am I annoying you... or is it annoying you thatthisturns you on?"
A cold chill replaced the heat, crawling up my spine as his words hung in the air. I leaned forward, trying to escape the warmth of his lips ghosting over me. "Don't flatter yourself," I hissed, forcing my voice to remain calm. "I'm just really ticklish." I made another futile attempt to stand, but his hand slid from my hip to my abdomen, holding me firmly in place.
"You're a filthy liar,"he whispered. His hand moved again, this time slowly and deliberately from my stomach to my chest, then further up. His fingers trailed a line up my neck, stopping only when they reached my mouth, pressing down to silence me.
He pushed me back, my body now fully leaning against his. His chest was firm against my back, and the proximity made everything clearer. This creep might' ve wanted a quick thrill—his intentions tainted with lust, but I was almost certain he lacked the nerve to follow through. But if Toya thought he could drag me into one of his little games, I'd gladly all, it's only polite to let him try, right?
Our gazes met, locked in a silent battle of wills."You're so full of lies and deceit, I'd love to snap your neck for it," Toya whispered, his voice a silken thread against my ear. His fingers pressed stronger against my lips, and I responded exactly as he hoped—a wince and a slow push of my tongue between his fingers, licking them with a soft moan.
"Mhm."
The sudden display of submission caused his heart to pound wildly against my back like a trapped animal. His hand slid from my hip to my thigh, his grip rough and commanding.
"Admitting it, are you?" he hissed, his voice laced with smut. "What am I going to do with a naughty little thing like you, huh?"
He tugged at my red tights, a dangerous glint in his eyes."Maybe I should start by tearing these off you."
I placed my hand over his other, guiding it from my lips to my neck. "Better not," I purred, my voice oozing with sin. "Or you'll be even more upset about the piece underneath."
Toya's eyebrows arched, surprise clear in his voice. "You're wearing something underneath?" His other hand moved down, tracing the outline of my chest. "I never would have guessed."
"Why not?" I teased, my fingers brushing against his as it rested on my thigh.
"Because it seems..." The sensation of his breath was intoxicating, almost driving me to the brink of madness. Toya's hand stopped on my breast, his fingers sinking into the plush softness. "... You're not wearing anything underneath,hereeither," His touch was rough, almost brutal, the absence of a bra making my chest more vulnerable to his grasp. I couldn't help but smirk to myself, knowing full well the effect this would have on him.
"Clothes bother me," I moaned , my voice a seductive caress. Toya's grip tightened around my breast, his fingers digging into the thin fabric with a hunger that was almost feral. I could feel his nerves fraying, his lust building beneath me. All I had to do was fan the flames a little more and he'd eventually fall for my ruse.
"What a coincidence," Toya mumbled, his voice thick with desire . "And I want to see you naked." His long tongue traced a slow, deliberate path along the sensitive skin behind my ear. I instinctively lifted my shoulder, trying to escape the tickling sensation. Toya's hand began to wander, sliding down to the hem of my top. He pulled at it, eager to expose more.
But I stopped him. My hand covered his, my nails dug into his flesh.
"Not tonight," I said, turning my head just enough to meet his gaze. His pupils had expanded into huge , black discs, half-hidden beneath heavy eyelids. There was something unsettling about the way he looked at me, like a predator biding its time. My finger, almost instinctively, traced over his lips. The texture was rough — burned and scarred — uneven in a way that should have repelled me. But instead, it drew me in, a strange attraction that tugged at something deep inside.
Or maybe I was just losing my mind.
Toya grinned, his teeth grazing my finger in a playful bite. "You'll have to earn the sight, darling," I whispered, my voice turned into something darkly sweet, matching the dirty smile now curling on my lips. I pulled my finger from his grasp, the tension snapping like a rubber band.
"Is that so?" His voice was husky, dark. "And what do I have to do for it, kitten?" He leaned closer, his breath warm against my face. Our lips hovered so close, almost touching, just a hair's breadth away from crossing that line.
"Behave," I replied, letting my words hang in the air with a slow, deliberate weight. "Beverywell-behaved." I blinked at him, my gaze filled with a false, exaggerated admiration, the kind that dripped from my eyes like venom disguised as honey.
Toya's grin widened, but there was a flicker of something deeper behind it—desire, frustration, maybe both. "You're expecting quite a lot from me then," his eyes remained locked on mine, and for a split second, I could see it; the temptation to shatter this fragile game of control and throw everything into chaos.
Oh, how Toya had underestimated the depths of my cunning...
Toya's hand, sly and calculating, slipped beneath my top, his fingers traced a slow, torturous path across my skin and finally settling on my nipple, where he began to circle lazily.
I gritted my teeth, the urge to slap his hand away almost overwhelming. But I held back, my expression a mask of calm—my duty more important than my own dignity. I had to protect the students, and if that meant allowing this horny scumbag to touch me, then so be it. I had to keep him under my thumb, had to maintain control.
"But don't you want to know...how I taste?" I purred, my voice dripping with false sweetness.
I could see the effect my words had on him. His eyes widened, the unburned half of his face flushing a bright red. His lips quivered, the lust and perversion he harbored shining brightly in his gaze.
Now I had him exactly where I wanted him.
I extended my tongue, taunting Toya with the promise of forbidden fruit. Like a starving beast, he couldn't resist, our tongues entwining in a dance of depravity. His lips pressed against mine, a brutal, hungry kiss that left me tasting the remnants of his desperation.
Beneath my top, his grip grew more aggressive, his fingers digging into my flesh with a roughness that bordered on pain. My breast ached under his ruthless assault, the sensation a bitter counterpoint to the twisted pleasure that coursed through me. His hand on my thigh was also a source of discomfort, the squeeze increasing until I feared the delicate fabric of my tights would give way.
But Toya's moment of ecstasy was not to last.
A loud, insistent knock echoed through the bathroom, a rude interruption to our macabre ballet.
"What's taking so fucking long? I have to take a piss!" Katsuki's voice exploded from behind the door, followed by more relentless knocking.
I broke the kiss, but Toya's desire was insatiable, his lips chasing mine, demanding more. My hand shot up, pressing against his face and gently pushing him back just enough to maintain control. "Give us five minutes, Frankenstein's skin is peeling off," I called back, voice sweetened with a sarcasm Katsuki wouldn't pick up on.
A moment of silence passed on the other side of the door. Then, with all the disgust of someone picturing something truly foul, Katsuki muttered, "Shit!" and I heard his heavy steps retreat toward the living room.
Toya seized the opportunity, his grip sliding up my wrist as he peeled my hand off his face. That dirty, reckless grin of his spread wide, like a wolf who'd just gotten a taste of something forbidden. "You lying bitch," he chuckled, lunging forward to steal another kiss.
I wasn't having it. I pulled away from his lap, standing with deliberate slowness. "Remember what you'll get from me if you behave well," I teased, voice laced with saccharine venom.
"Or have you forgotten already?"
Toya sighed, a sound drenched in reluctant defeat, his grip on my wrist slipping off like a snake shedding its skin.
"Now be a good boy and clean yourself up," I said, snatching a towel from the shelf. Without a glance, I tossed it over his head, treating him like some disobedient pet. "You dry yourself with this one."
"And use this one—," I added, reaching for another towel, wetting it in the sink. The soft drip of water contrasted with the tension humming in the room. I slapped it into his hands. "To get rid of that sticky mess on your skin."
The lock clicked as I unlocked the door, eager to escape the heat that still hovered between us. But Toya moved—silent and fast, like a shadow with a plan. His hand shot out and caught me by the sleeve. I froze, the fabric pulled taut between us, his face still hidden beneath the towel I'd carelessly thrown. Yet somehow, his grasp was perfect. His instincts, honed by something darker than mere reflex, never ceased to unsettle me.
"Wait," he mumbled, his voice low and muffled beneath the towel.
I glanced back, annoyance sharpening my tone. "What now?" My hand hovered over the door handle, my way out so close.
He pulled the towel from his head, dropping it carelessly to the floor. Slow, deliberate steps brought him closer, trapping me against the door. The frustration in his eyes sliced through the air like a blade—this wasn't his usual game. Something raw flickered behind his gaze, a hunger that gnawed at the edges of his sanity. The air between us thickened, his desperation bleeding through the cracks in his usual composure.
"Don't go yet…" His voice was barely audible, trembling with an unfamiliar fragility.
Toya wasn't was begging.A shiver rippled through me. It was unsettling to see him like this, stripped of his bravado. His pupils dilated as if trying to take in every inch of me. I'd seen Toya play all sorts of games—mind games, power plays, the works—but this was different.
His desire wasn't satisfied, not even close.
Had I pushed him too far? Misread the game, let him taste something I should've kept hidden?
My throat tightened. For once, I wasn't sure who held the advantage anymore.
Thanks for checking it out! I'll be back with more!
