HELLO EVERYONE I AM STILL VERY MUCH ON A HIATUS!! butttt I’ll very hesitantly be here trying to answer inboxes, do some drabbles, etc. Please take this very crappy and sloppy fic as an apology for being gone hehe rip
TW: noncon, bullying, abuse of power, language, manipulating, groping
Pairing: Yandere hawks x f reader
“Hey, kid. Can you pick up my eraser? Your bigass noggin made it bounce too far off.”
Kid. As if they were your elders.
You exhale through your nostrils and ignore them, opting to focus on your professor’s lesson rather than the two neanderthals who have taken a liking to tormenting you during class.
Actually...maybe torment is too harsh of a word, teasing is more like it.
At least, that’s what Professor Takami said when you had begged him to move your seat after you endured almost a week of their torment teasing.
What’s the harm in some guys having a little school crush? He had said chuckling while wiping the board from his lesson’s notes.
You were forced to bite your tongue from another impending plea for mercy when you heard a cough, and turning to face the door, you saw them both leering at you.
An inky head of spikes that reminded you of every stereotypical campus bad-boy, and an equally lanky yet more brittle build next to Dabi, blueish grey hair that hung around his eyes so you could never actually see the emotions crossing his face.
One might think that Dabi was the mastermind behind all the pencil snaps and eraser missiles from his blatant disregard of the school harassment policy, but the way he always leaned forward to hear the words murmuring out of Tomura’s mouth told you he wasn’t nearly as cunning by himself.
Even if he was a sheep, he was a pretty fucking adamant sheep.
“Cut it out,” you finally snap and turn to whisper-shout at the two numbskulls, throwing them your fiercest glare as a spit-ball clings to your hair.
But for all your bark, they know that there’s no bite as they whoop and coo at your bravado.
“Damn, kitty’s got claws, huh? S’alright sweetheart, you’re lucky I know how to tame a pussy,” Dabi leans his head against his tattooed arm, licking his lips while you grimace in disgust.
Tomura says nothing, but the drool wetting the side of his lips tells you all you need to know.
Your classmates are enamoured, of course, by the two. They constantly turn a blind eye to your bothered state and choose to instead flutter their lashes at Dabi while the others hesitantly give Tomura a weak smile.
It doesn’t stop you from shooting a hand up after the tattooed bastard unsubtly palms himself while making direct eye contact with you.
The classroom goes quiet.
“Yes, L/N?” He blinks his honey-colored eyes at you in mild surprise. He didn’t think the mechanical makings of the Trojan horse was a lively enough topic to gain attention from his students.
“Dabi and Tomura-”
“That’s Mr. Todoroki and Mr. Shigaraki to you-”
“-distracting me from my work, sir. I can’t even hear you from back here, they keep throwing spitballs and erasers at me.”
He turns to the two at the back. “Is that true, Mr. Todoroki? Are you distracting my students from their education?”
Mr. Todoroki kicks his legs up on the desk in front of him and crosses his arms behind his head leisurely. “Well sir, in my defense your oh-so-studious student here wouldn’t be so distracted if their phone wasn’t out for the entirety of the period. She could also start with taking more notes instead of zoning out and staring at the window for 30 minutes.”
Your face flushes as the whole class snickers. Leave it up to the scarred prick to turn it on you. You were almost impressed that he had even noticed the glowing screen peeking out from under the fortress of books you made on your table, a seemingly believable guise to your texting.
Guess you can’t cheat a born cheater.
“Miss L/N, if you’re having trouble concentrating in my class then I’d advise you to take less time in being a social butterfly and invest your hours in signing up for more after-school tutoring. I’m always happy to lend a hand to a failing student, as I’m sure you already know.”
You scowl and lean further down in your seat, shame coloring your face as your peers titter around you.
You don’t need to turn around to see the shit-eating grins on both of their faces as Professor Takami continues the lesson
“I don’t even know why you chose them, they’re hardly qualified as teacher’s assistants if they’re only a year or two older than I am. Are they even a year older than me?” You exit out of the laptop’s presentation and frown at your professor, who merely laughs and flips through his next class’s textbook.
“Well, if that’s the rabbithole we’re going down, then if they’re not old enough then I definitely deserve to be under fire as well, right?” He slyly grins at you and you can’t stop from biting your lip and giggling lightly.
It’s true he was young, the youngest professor there was on campus, actually, but it didn’t matter because he wasn’t one of them. He didn’t slide you notes describing how well your jeans fit the shape of your ass, or trip you over your binders when you would sit down. Even though they were hand-picked by Takami himself, they acted like they were high-schoolers instead of at least attempting to be as mature as his own college students.
“Maybe if they got their PHD like you did then I’d put it into consideration that they’ve got enough prerequisites for babysitting a class that they can’t even follow.”
He stands up and stretches with a soft grunt, and you catch yourself staring at the clear expanse of his chiseled stomach as his shirt rides up.
“Look, let’s just say I’ve known them for a long time so I know how they work. They might be rowdy, sure, but all in all they help me out when I need ‘em.” He scrunches his eyebrows at you and you roll your eyes in retaliation, still not convinced of their innocence.
“How did you even meet them? You don’t strike me as the type of guy to hang out with degenerates like them.” He starts walking around his desk and leans down behind you, one arm next to yours on the table and the other on your chair. You start feeling a little hot under the collar as he peers over your shoulder to see your homework on the screen.
“Watch it, they’re still your TA’s. I knew them in high school, we messed around here and there, got into some trouble, picked up some chicks, y’know the usual adolescent dude stuff. You’re missing the dates...and what’s with this cursive girly font? I thought you were trying to prove how much more mature you were than my assistants?” He teases, and you pout before quickly typing in the information in your tab.
“Hey, I thought it was cute, okay. And if you’re trying to prove how young you and them are then I’d suggest letting your students use some more lively features in their homework,” you snap back coyly.
Takami laughs behind you, the sound gliding through the air and embedding itself in your spine, sending a shiver up your vertebrae. His lighthearted voice never failed to draw you in and leave you wanting more.
“Man, you’re in a feisty mood today, huh? Maybe Mr. Todoroki actually did a number on you.”
“Yeah, exactly! Which is why I want to be moved up to the front, closer to you-”
“-Let's check your grades first, shall we?”
He smells of Old Spice and cinnamon as his head hovers next to you, locks of silky blond hair brushing against yours as your slightly shaking fingers type away on the keyboard.
You both wince when a big fat C pops up on the screen.
“I guess Mr. Todoroki was right about a number of things after all. Maybe you should also stop going on your phone and pay more attention in class. Oh, and come more frequently after school as well, I can give you more in-depth lessons like today’s.”
“Move,” Dabi’s wide shoulder slams into you as you reach for the sign-in clipboard, the impact sending you backwards into other grumbling students.
Who, as usual, glower at your clumsiness and giddily wave at their favorite TA.
You hiss and rub your arm. “Asshole.”
Tomura steps in from the shadow of the dark hallway, his vermillion gaze already trained on you as he enters the classroom. You shift uncomfortably as you scribble your name on the sheet and make haste towards your seat...where they already are like always, sitting next to and behind you.
You feign a groan and shoot your professor a helpless look, but he merely puts his palms up and shrugs.
Looks like you’re left for the dogs, again.
Takami claps his hands, gathering the attention of all his students as he starts the lesson.
“Alright guys, as you all know we have finals coming up for the end of the semester. So to prepare you all, I’ve set up different stations around the room, kinda like a puzzle you have to solve for each answer. You have the entirety of the period to work on this review, and if you need any help don’t hesitate to ask Mr. Todoroki or Mr. Shigaraki.
Mr. Todoroki and Mr. Shigaraki are currently swapping pornos of ‘schoolgirl gets railed by principle’ and ‘helpless intern works for her raise’ with each other, so no thank you very much, you think you will actually hesitate to ask for help.
But the big flashing C from yesterday comes into mind, and you cringe at the memory of Takami’s disappointed tone.
Nevertheless, you decide to at least try to attempt one station by yourself, so like the rest of your peers, you drag yourself out of your seat and go to the closest empty corner by your desk.
You look up at the laminated paper on the wall, breaking down the contents of the question.
Rome...Pantheon...or was it Parthenon? Fuck.
You turn your head to your teacher’s desk, but at that same moment he stands up and brushes his jacket off. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom for a minute, I’ll be back in a few. Mr. Todoroki and Shigaraki are in charge while I’m gone, so no funny business.”
You don’t even get a chance to open your mouth when the door slams shut behind him.
Fuck. Double fuck.
Finally, after a minute of chewing the tension from your lips off, you decide to swallow your pride and just ask.
You take a deep breath and pivot on your heel back towards your desk. It’s fairly quiet as you make the treacherous walk back to your seat of doom, but the general buzz of students talking doesn’t drown out the high pitched moaning coming from their phones. It's almost disgusting how no one else hears it, or they just don’t care.
You cautiously raise the clipboard with your work in it to your eyes, just to confirm your question, when an obnoxiously loud whimper comes from Tomura’s phone. You raise your head and your stomach lurches.
He’s rubbing a hand over the bulge protruding from his wrinkled khakis, his mouth is agape and his lids are lowered as he looks at whatever monstrosity is happening on his screen.
Nope. Grades be damned, you’re not going to them for help. Not when he’s fucking rubbing himself off in front of everyone to see.
But before you can spin back around and scurry off into your corner, you see Dabi’s head turn towards you.
The second you turn your back the sound of two chairs scraping across the linoleum floor cuts through the murmuring of student’s chatter, and a heavy hand claps itself on your shoulder.
“-You needed help. Didn’t she look like she needed help, Tomura?”
“-Yeah, the little brown-noser needed us-”
“-I said no, I was just coming back for a pencil-”
“-Oh trust me, I know an empty head when I see one. Besides, you already have a pen in your hand sweetheart, why don’t you show us how we can help you? I’ve got a couple of ways in mind-”
They propel you towards the corner you were previously in, and you can’t help but wonder if they were watching you struggle earlier as if they knew where you came from. They stand a little behind and at the sides of you, effectively cornering you completely against the white brick wall.
“God-get off of me-!” You try to raise your voice but Shigaraki kicks the back of your knees and sends you face first against the laminated paper, successfully cutting off your protest.
You can feel a sharp sting in your nose, and then consecutively in your hair as a scarred hand fists itself through your locks.
“Now let's see here…’this the problem you couldn’t solve? Wow, you must be even stupider than I gave you credit for.” “Lemme go, ‘don’t need your help anymore.”
“Oh no, on the contrary I think you need more education than anyone else here. So tell me, was it the Pantheon or the Parthenon that belonged to Rome?” Another pair of hands pulls your hips back and down, situating yourself on a hard surface. You twist your head a little to the side, and to your horror you realize that Shigaraki has seated you on Dabi’s knee.
Calling for help is futile, you have a bad feeling that with the position you were in currently in, any wrong move would render you fucked.
So you decide to answer.
“Uh, I think Pantheon?”
Shigaraki presses down on your shoulders as Dabi hikes his knee further up into your crotch, and you let out a muffled gasp. The friction of his jeans rubs so deliciously against your clothed clit that it’s impossible to contain your whimpers.
They relish in your distress.
“Shit, Tomura, she’s actually liking it. No wonder she’s practically failing, ‘bet she loves the extra attention after school.”
“How’d you know I was-”
But you’re cut off yet again when he bounces his leg in a steady rhythm, and you’re jostled along the expanse of his limbs, head bobbing and mouth agape.
Tomura squishes your cheek and yanks your head back at an angle where you can read the black letters on the paper.
“Read, you dumb bitch. What does the paper say?”
You squint your eyes to make out the too-close words.
“‘Says it was built in the time of Augustus.” “Okay, so? Where did Augustus rule?” At this, the leg beneath you grinds up against you and you can actually feel your wetness sliding up and down against your slit, throbbing with unwanted need.
“Fuck,” you moan, your tongue flopping out after a particularly hard bounce. “Please let go of me, I can’t focus when you’re against me like this!”
“Well technically you can’t focus either way, which is exactly why you’re close to failing. Now answer my question, where did Augustus rule?”
A hand gropes at your bouncing tits, feeling the underside of your bra.
You take a wild guess. “Rome?” Please, please let it be right.
The bouncing stops.
“Good. So if Augustus ruled in Rome, then what landmark is in Rome?”
Your clit buzzes with ache from the sudden dismissal of attention.
“The Pantheon.” “Fucking finally,” Tomura sneers at you and squeezes your chest before letting go and yanking your head back away from the wall. Dabi stands to his fullest height and lets you fall off his leg unceremoniously to the ground.
They saunter back to their seats without another glance at you and resume their pornos, the moans from the screen sounding like mockings of your own not even a couple seconds ago. It takes a couple minutes for you to catch your breath and force your body to ignore the random spikes of forgotten pleasure lingering in your pussy from earlier ministrations.
You unsteadily rise to your feet and look around the room. It seems that more than half of your peers have already moved on to the second and third questions, leaving you behind in the dust.
Fuck this shit. I’m not about to be harassed every time I have a question right now.
Maybe Takami has an answer sheet at his desk?
Risking a glance behind you, you ensure that both men are engrossed in their schoolgirl-gets-fucked-hard videos much like you, actually before quietly creeping up towards the professor’s desk.
It just so happens that at that same moment you reach the desk, he comes in, door swinging wide and a bright smile on his face.
“Everything good? Yo, Todoroki, you holdin’ up the fort good?” He’s met with a thumbs up from Dabi and merely a grunt from Shigaraki, the two of them still invested at the scene playing out on their phones.
Takami looks around, assessing everyone before his eyes land on you, strolling over with a grin on his face.
“What’s up Y/N? Need some help on something?”
You’re about to answer, but you hesitate for a fraction of a second when you hear a schoolgirl’s moan coming from the phone in his pocket.
“You know, you’re probably one of my favorite students if I’m being honest,” he tells you one day as you organize the textbooks on the back shelf.
“Yeah? Why is that?” You try to sound careless and chill, but you can’t ignore the way your heart speeds up or the blush on your face.
“Because,” his voice is right next to your ears, and you jump at his proximity. “You don’t take anyone’s bullshit. You see them for who they are, and you treat them as such.” He takes the book from your hand and places it in its correct slot.
Your eyes meet his, and his eyes travel to your lips as they part in surprise. He leans even closer, and you can smell the mint on his cool breath as his nose almost touches yours. His hair flops over and shields the sides of your face as you look up at him with big doe-eyes.
Just as you close your eyes and start to purse your lips, he pulls back and produces another textbook in his hands. You blink in surprise as he studies the pages, the little frown on his face hiding the sultry look he was giving you moments ago.
“‘Gotta tell Aizawa to update these books, they’re like a century old,” he chuckles and turns around back to his desk.
Shaking the whiplash from your glazed over mind, you follow him back to his desk as well. “Yeah, I’d have to agree. I think I’ve done a pretty good job in figuring out people’s personalities.”
You stand in front of his desk and rock on your heels. “For example, I can tell Nishiya acts like he never knows the answers when you ask him questions, but he’s actually really smart. He only stays quiet because he doesn’t want people coming up to him and asking for the answers.”
“Okay, now I’m interested. Go on, I gotta hear more of this.”
“Alright, let me see...oh yeah, I can tell Dabi and Tomura act like they’re the shit but it’s probably a cover up for the lack of attention they received at home or some childhood trauma they have. They’re liars and cheaters too, it makes them want to project and show out-”
But when he raises his eyebrows in a warning glance, you sheepishly hold your palms up in defense. “Kidding. But like you said, I get people.”
Takami situates himself in his large seat and interlaces his fingers together. He places his head on his hands and cocks his head at you. “Really now? What about me then?”
You pretend to think for a minute, twisting your smile up and tapping one finger against your chin. “Hmm...I’d say you’re a really shitty teacher and you need to give more extra credit-”
“-Woah, what? C’mon, that’s not fair-”
“-but honestly, you’re a wild card.”
He leans back and twirls a pen through his fingers. “Is that so?”
“Yeah. For all the times you mess around, you still genuinely wanna help people, or your students for that matter. It’s like you have the heart of a hero.” He smiles demurely at you, but you teasingly pop his bubble before he can goad. “Which is funny, because for such a gallant hero, you sure like to hang with dim-witted scholastic villains that come in the forms of shitty TA’s.”
“Alright, that’s it, I’m failing you.” He rises out of his seat and you shriek with glee before bounding towards the door.
“Not like I was gonna pass anyways!”
“Oh shut up, if you make it up to me I'll let you off with a B.”
“Spoken like a true hero, I see-ack! No fair, you can’t jump over desks, you’re too old for that!”
But before he can catch you and double over with laughter, you whip your head around and face him, beaming with banter.
“Oh, and Takami? For the record-”
“Keigo. Call me Keigo.”
“Keigo, for the record, you’re my favorite teacher too.”
There’s three weeks left until the end of the semester, and like he said, you’re already up to a borderline B, the highest its been in this stupid class.
You would pat yourself on the back if it didn’t have a hand clapped over it, vile words seething against your neck.
“So, how’d you get him to do it? ‘You suck him off yet?”
“She had to have, how the fuck did she pass this? She can barely remember three dates, much less the review for the entire fucking essay.”
But regardless of their brutality, Dabi and Shigaraki’s rage doesn’t hold a candle to the fiery pride in your heart.
It took days, practically a whole week of in-school and after school sessions to boost your grade up for this major assignment. With the help of Professor Takami-or, Keigo, as he likes being called now, you were completely ready for this prompt. It was due to all the hard work and extra hours you put in that a bolded ‘A’ was circled by your name, a little smiley face next to it a direct indication of your teacher’s approval.
“Did it taste salty?”
“I bet it was less than 5 inches.”
You roll your ears and scrunch your nose. Some friends they were to your professor, all right.
“Sorry I’m actually tolerable, unlike you idiots. And for your information, I earned this grade fair and square, as hard as it is for you to believe. Not everyone cuts corners, shocker.”
Shigaraki leans forward, teeth gritted and eyes bloodshot as he speaks. “You little cunt. You think you can talk to us like that ‘cause you got one decent grade? Fuck, I wish he’d just put you in your place already.”
Dabi cackles as you look at him suspiciously. “What are you talking about?”
But before Shigaraki can answer, the ravenette shakes his head and catches his breath. “Forget it, Tomura. Just let her have her moment for now. Oh, and a little word of advice-if you wanna keep those grades up, I’d suggest continuing to wear more v-necks.”
You glance between them. “No wait, what do you mean-”
Keigo’s voice interrupts before you can press further.
“Alright, ladies and gents’, only three weeks left ‘till the end of the semester grades are due. If there’s any questions or concerns you have, let me know via email or tutoring sessions. The reviews are posted up on the classroom board, so just make sure you’re spending your time wisely.”
The bell rings, and you all get up to head for the door. Except you, of course, who makes a beeline straight for your professor.
He sees you waving your paper like a victory banner and beams at you. “Ayyy, L/N! ‘Knew you could do it, ‘guess I’m a better teacher than you said I was, huh?” He playfully nudges your shoulder and you nod excitedly.
“You were right! Damn, I guess after school hours helped a lot. The prompt was exactly what the review covered.”
You both walk towards the door, chattering away at next week’s grades and assignments. He holds the door open for you like a true gentleman as you walk outside.
“Thank you Keigo,” you say softly only for his ears. “I really needed this.”
“Anything for you, Y/N. I’m always here if you need me.” His golden eyes gleam with fondness as his hand travels lower down your back to gently usher you out. Your spine buzzes with an epiphany, and you face him before you can will your body to stop.
And in a moment of sheer vulnerability and graciousness, you lean forward and brush your lips against his. You drop your jacket and use both hands to wind around his neck lightly and bring his head towards you.
The rest of the class has left, TA’s included. The hallway is empty and silent, save for the quiet sound of you tasting his plush lips.
He tastes divine. Something along the lines of faint peaches, and his jacket smells like old spice. You unconsciously moan a little when you turn your head and feel his scruff graze the sides of your mouth.
But something isn't right. Why isn’t he kissing you back?
Your eyes are squeezed shut, but when you peek them open your heart jumps. He’s looking at you like you’re crazy, wide eyed and frozen. His lips don't move, and his hand is stuck on the doorknob.
You pull away, fast.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I did that, I-fuck!” You look at him, horrified when you realize what you just did, and he blinks a couple of times before shaking his head slightly and hesitantly bringing his palms up to placate you.
“Hey, it’s okay, it-wait, hold on!”
But you’re already bolting down the hallway, bag banging against your hip as you blindly make your way out the campus door. Your waterline stings with tears of humiliation, your palms sweat profusely with traces of regret seeping out of you.
Why did I do that? Fuck, we were getting closer too!
You don’t stop running away from the shame and embarrassment until you fly through your dorm room and flop onto your bed, screaming into your pillow to let it all out.
And when you lift your head and tearily catch a glimpse of your bag, you simply shove your head back down into the plush covers when you realize you forgot your jacket at the door of his room.
It was a good idea to go at night, after all the students were tucked in their beds or off to weekend bars. No one was out on the sidewalks to question why you were heading back to the supposed-to-be closed campus doors, and no one was around to make you question your safety.
You hoped he wasn’t in, either.
Sneaking around the side of the school, you slip through the janitor doors with ease and navigate your way through the pitch-dark closet until your hand gropes around and finds the cold doorknob.
Luckily, it gives way. You jimmy the rusted brass until the door cracks open, and you peek your head left and right before deeming the hallway completely isolated. You stealthily weave in between hallways and classrooms before you get to the dreaded door.
But he’s not there. At least, no one else is in that hallway. The lights are dim, and when you glance at the bottom of the door, you sigh in relief-your jacket is still there lumped together from when you dropped it...from…
You shake your head clear. No sense in losing your nerve now.
You walk over and bend down to pick your jacket up, when you freeze.
Voices. Male voices, two or three of them speaking from inside Professor Takami’s room.
Why is he still here so late?
“Holy fuck, Uehara was annoying today. She couldn’t shut up about when Project 4 was due, when I was gonna finish grading her lab, blah blah blah. ‘Had half a mind to ask her, how ‘bout I finish motorboarding your tits sweetheart, then we can discuss extra credit. Keigo, hand me some of that.”
You grimace at the monologue. There’s no doubt what kind of a scumbag would say that about his students, only Dabi would have the nerve to say shit like that outright.
But pure curiosity keeps you in place as you findyoruself leaning your ear against the door. You’ve never actually seen-or rather, heard in this instance- the trio interact outside of classroom walls. And even if this technically was still their classroom, this would be the first time you’d witness how they let their guards down with each other.
Dabi’s ranting is cut off from Tomura’s raspy cackling. “Yeah, anytime she bends over to ask me a question I don’t even hide it. It’s her fault for wearing crop tops, who in their right mind would actually listen to the bullshit she's one when we could stare at her tits instead? ‘Gimme a line, you’ve had three already-'' there's a hard scraping sound and a loud sniff.
Your eyes widen at that. Were they-?
“Oh, and speaking of tits, how’s Y/N and you doing? Any luck yet?”
Your body jolts at the recognition of your name in their conversation.
“Oh, I didn’t tell you guys yet? She came onto me after class today,” And there’s a condescendingly smug undertone to his words that makes your heart jump and sink simultaneously. Why was he airing your dirty laundry to these assholes? You would’ve hoped he’d at least try to save your name in front of others. And why did he sound so confident?
“No fucking way-”
“-You’re lying out of your ass-”
“-I think you’ve had too many lines, man-”
“Swear to god she did. It was after everyone left and she was singing my praises for bumping her grade up when she did it. She totally bought the surprised act too, but I have to say I was kind of taken aback. I mean, I didn’t think she’d fall for it so soon.”
Dabi snorts. “She’s got some nerve thinkin’ she passed that essay when she’s got the brains of every other bimbo bitch at this school.”
“Wait, that grade was you? I knew she didn’t do it herself. But you haven’t hit it yet, have you?”
There's a rustling of paper and a yelp as if someone thwacked the other with it before Keigo answers.
“No, I haven’t. Aika and Chiyo were wayyyy easier to buy into-yeah, you know them from 7th period. Now those are nice girls with a fun little cat-and-mouse game shit going on. But honestly, I think I should reward her for caving in so easily, I mean that’s a feat by itself to be that stupid-”
You think you’re about to throw up. It’s time to go, you’ve heard enough.
But when you lean down to take your jacket, your hand knocks against the door by mistake.
You freeze. The voices on the other side of the door stop.
“Is someone there?” The voice is so loud and so close to the door that your brain goes haywire and can't even place whose face it belongs to. You think of nothing but to run, run as fast and as far away as you did in the afternoon, when Keigo was someone you liked, someone you trusted.
As fast as you run around the corner, the handle still turns, and two men catch a glimpse of the jacket flying away that was purposefully kept outside.
“What’re you so quiet for, huh?”
“So, Y/N, what’d you do this weekend? Party with all your friends? Go some places you shouldn’t have gone to?
“Nah, actually, it's good she heard. M’sure Keigo wanted her to know any day now. How does it feel knowing you’re not special?”d
They’re baiting you, you know they are. If you ask them what they’re talking about then they’ll tell you the whole truth, which you frankly don’t want to know. Your heart’s already broken enough as it is.
But if you admit you already heard them, then who knows how viscous they’ll be anyways?
So you opt to keep your silence, no matter how tight the pressure against your sealed lips is, and no matter how painfully your heart thuds and how pricking your tears become.
You think about the other names mentioned in Keigo’s rendezvous while Tomura and Dabi leer at you from either side of your desk and spit venom. Was he sweet talking to them and giving them the same smiles that he did for you? Were you really not special at all?
Did you even mean anything to him?
It’s hard to think so. When he walks in the classroom you duck your head down and avoid eye contact. He claps his hands and starts the lesson like usual, but every time his hands meet you can’t help but flinch. Every grin he throws at girls who answer his question looks so fake now, every praise and laugh sounds so shrill and nauseating to you.
Then, he tries to get you to talk.
“So, uh, Y/N!” He claps his hands once more and you jerk at the sound. He ambles towards you and shifts to simultaneously point to the presentation. “Can you tell me the answer?” He leans down and smiles his signature smile in your face, carefully observing your expression.
You keep your eyes lowered and barely contain a glower. “Dunno,” is your curt answer.
Keigo laughs jovially and the rest of the class titters along with him even though they don’t know what he’s laughing at.
They’re sheep. All of them are. He’s got them wrapped around his finger, and you were once like that too.
It hurts to know how easily you fell for him.
“Aww, come on now kid, you’re telling me you don’t remember last week’s review? You even stayed with me after school to go over it!” A toned arm grasps the edge of your desk as he tilts his head charmingly.
If you looked up, you’d see the strain between his eyebrows and the way his grin drops and twitches in panic.
“Yeah, I guess it must be a feat to be that stupid of me, right?”
The class quiets down at that.
To anyone else it sounds like another kid trying to one-up their teacher to look cool, but Keigo knows better.
When he hears his words thrown back at him from last night so openly he physically winces. It sounds so much worse in a public setting without any censorship in it.
Keigo throws a quick glance at his friends who give him raised eyebrows at your boldness. They didn’t expect you to be so blunt about it.
“You know that's not true Y/N, you’re a very smart girl.” He chuckles nervously and takes a quick peek around the room, adjusting his sweltering collar. Everyone is looking at him, silent and waiting for his move.
But he can do nothing except listen in increasing discomfort as you scoff and grit out, “Not according to you I’m not. In fact, I’d say I’m just as stupid as the girls in seventh pe-”
“Okay, we’re gonna move on now! Let’s not get off topic now, ‘kay?’ He gives his students a look that says ‘yeah, dunno what the hell she’s talking about’, springs up from his leaning stance and takes long strides to the front of the room to continue the lesson, his back burning from the dozens of curious glares trained on his sweating self.
Why the fuck did he even try to get you to open up in the first place? He should’ve just kept his mouth shut if he had a feeling something was off.
Despite his smooth cover up, Tomura and Dabi stay surprisingly quiet the rest of the lesson, opting not to rile your turbulent mind any further.
You simply sit there stewing in your own rage and heartbreak with every passing word from his smooth lips.
Lips that felt so fucking good against yours for a second.
Lips that revealed cutting words that will last for a lifetime.
Eventually 45 minutes pass and the bell rings, yanking you out of your musing.
The rest of the students crowd their way to the door, and it just so happens that you’re one of the last students at the back of the class to leave.
Which Keigo takes as the perfect opportunity to talk to you.
“Hey, Y/n!” He says softly and jogs up to you from his desk, his face red and hand wringing, that weird little nervous smile on his face evident.
“Are you okay? You seemed kinda snappy earlier-”
“You were wrong, y’know.”
“Oh yeah? How’s that?” He amuses you yet his smile wavers, the pinch in his eyebrows deepening as he takes in your sarcastic expression, your glossy eyes.
“You don’t really wanna help people for the sake of it. You might do some charity here and there, but you’ve got ulterior motives that outweigh the good you do. You don’t have the heart of a hero, in fact, I doubt you have a heart at all.”
Keigo is acutely aware of the two TA’s not too far away, lingering by the window. Whether they’re watching the scene or not, he can’t tell, but he’s glad none of the students are witnessing this.
His mouth opens and closes, but no words come out.
“Y/N...what you might’ve heard isn’t tr-”
“No, don’t fucking tell me what I heard or not, I know exactly what you said. I was even more off than I thought- you’re even worse than Dabi and Shigaraki. You disgust me, Professor Takami.”
And with that, you shoulder him out of the way and storm to the door, ignoring Dumb and Dumber’s ooh’s.
Keigo is left standing dumbfounded, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. No one has ever insulted him like this before.
Him? Hated? Keigo Takami? One of the campuses most revered and loved figures? He’s practically the school’s mascot for fuck’s sake, he’s always had his way here, people love him and throw themselves at him as they should-
“Oh, and one more thing Professor.”
You’re at the door. The word is a mockery in your mouth and leaves in the air as a curse in his ears.
“The next time you want to discuss your sexual affairs with numerous other unlucky students, I’d suggest talking in a faculty lounge instead of a public room. It might just cost you your job.
The door bangs shut behind you, his resolve solidifying in sync with the click of the lock.
He’s relentless, but so are you.
Both have your own ways of countering each other, and some days you laugh about how well you two might have turned out had he not revealed to be a completely different person than you thought he was.
The first couple of days after your confrontation, you switch to a virtual class that uses his pre recordings instead of an in-person lab like you had previously.
In retaliation, he drops a few numbers on your grade, and you’re back to a borderline C.
The next week, you submit the rest of the extra credit papers he gave to you before you found him out.
He voids them and sends you an email, requesting your actual being in the class to ‘better understand the lesson, seeing as how evident it is that a virtual class doesn’t suit you.”
You file a complaint to the principal, but unbeknownst to you, a scarred hand curls itself around the letter and sends it up in smoke. The owner of said appendage leans back on his dad’s throne and sends an informative message to a certain blond professor.
Your grade drops from a borderline C to a solid F now, and it’s gotten to a point where even if you completed all the assignments you still wouldn’t be able to pass the class without a little bump...which calls for an in-person meeting with your teacher, standard protocol.
The red letter on the screen seems to jeer at you as you stare mind-numbingly at it. All your hard work, all your pride and effort has gone down the drain in just a few days before the end of the semester.
Is it worth retaking the class if you don’t speak to him?
There’s still a chance you’ll get him again if you repeat the course.
And so, with a heavy hand and an even heavier heart, your fingers click away at your keyboard as you draft a curt yet civil email to your professor, asking if you could have a face-to-face meeting discussing your options to boost your grade enough to at least pass the semester.
His response comes back not even two minutes later, as if he’s been waiting for your white flag.
You wear a boring t-shirt and jeans on your walk to the faculty lounge to emphasize your disregard for his opinions on your body, your stride haughty and full of spite.
Keigo’s email didn’t specify where to meet, just a curt “We can discuss your grades after school like usual. You seem to do better at that time anyways.”
It’s like a slap to your face. The memories that he’s so adamant on remembering out of past fondness makes your heart crack like a fragile egg, but rather than collapsing into a runny mess, your insides rev up and march straight to his classroom, ready for war.
You barely take a deep breath and a pause before entering his classroom, head held up high...but for no one to see.
“Professor?” You ask coolly to an empty room, swiveling your head this way and that before grimacing. It would’ve done you some good to ask for details on where he wants to meet, but in your defense you had a pretty damn good reason as to not communicate with him unnecessarily.
Turning around and out of the class, you peek your head around the hall and wings of the building and see no one.
It’s quite empty save for a few voices echoing eerily in adjacent areas where you can’t see, and a shiver passes through you.
Maybe I should just go back home. I’ll take summer classes or something.
But the second after you begin to doubt yourself you shake your head clear of the hesitation. You can’t let him think you’re uncomfortable, you can’t let him know his words affected you. He should be the one apologizing on bended knee for the things he said about you and the way he completely duped you.
And so you trek on around the dimly lit building, following the flickering fluorescent lights above you eventually to the faculty lounge.
Ironically it's the only door that has the best lighting around it, and even if he’s not there you know it’s got to be the safest area to simply regroup yourself.
You turn the handle and enter the room. It’s a fairly spacious area, with couches in the middle of the room and a mini bar at the back corner.
In front of you is your professor, his back turned to you as he types away at his desk.
You’re not as surprised to see him as you think you should be, and it helps your nerves that you have a second before he hears you and turns around. You walk a little bit further towards him and stop when you’re a couple feet away. His computer screen flashes with messages popping up on it, and you divert your attention back to him before taking another step forwards.
But before you can clear your throat and make your presence known he ruffles a hand through his hair and speaks.
“Finally showed up, huh? I’m so honored.”
His usually playful voice is laced with sarcasm, just like on the night he revealed his true colors with his friends.
The memory makes your throat catch and you quickly cough it off before responding. “Yeah, I wanna know why you’ve been purposely docking points from my assignments even though I’ve been doing them exactly the way you showed me, Professor.”
Keigo finally turns around and stands to his fullest height, stretching his arms over his head and causing the black tee he’s clad in to ride up his stomach a bit and expose his happy trail and perfectly chiseled v-line.
You’re proud of yourself for not risking a glance down like you used to. Instead, you keep your eyes trained on his sneering expression.
“Oh, so now you want my help after ignoring me for weeks? Yeah, you were pretty spot on earlier, it’s a pretty big fucking feat for you to be this stupid.”
You lose your composure at his venom. He’s never spoken to you like that before, and the foreign leer that pulls up at his lips and the dark gleam in his eye scares you.
“W-what the hell? You can’t talk to me like that you jackass-” you sputter before he cuts you off and starts advancing towards you with hysterical laughter.
“You still think you’re calling the shots around here honey? It's amazing how every time you open your mouth you seem to lose an equal amount of brain cells in correlation to how much you talk. Doesn’t it ever get tiring being such a dumb cunt?”
Keigo’s words hold such jeering contempt to them that each insult pierces your heart that you thought held no more room for him. Your feet automatically stagger back blindly as his figure looms closer and closer to you, backing you up into the couches unbeknownst to you.
“What the fuck are you doing? Get the hell away from me you freak, I just wanted to talk about my grades-you’re the one who’s got some nerve acting like you’re the victim here!”
He slaps you so hard you see stars.
Your body falls back onto the couch behind you as your head rolls to the side, but before you can crash his other hand shoots out and grabs the top of your head, painfully holding you up by the strands of your hair.
“You ungrateful bitch,” He seethes, shaking your heavy head in his grip and sending your hair flying. ”This is the thanks I get for hauling your dead weight to the finish line? I would’ve given you the highest grades in the class, hell, I would’ve given you a kickass recommendation to literally any field you’d wanna slut yourself out to if only you minded your own goddamn business.”
He throws you back onto the couch and punches you, hard, into your stomach.
You wheeze and your eyes roll back into your head as you curl into yourself, shielding your aching body from his multitude of kicks and slaps to your exposed appendages.
Blows rain down on your head, your legs, your ass, your chest, your arms and face as you fail tremendously to protect as many areas as you can from his rapid touch, but the man is too fast for his own good.
-a kick to your ass-
-”done this from the start”-
-three punches to the ribs-
“-when Dabi and Tomura told me I was being too easy on you.”
He stops for a moment to catch his breath, flicking his head back to clear the loose hair around his head. Your hair covers your face too, but there's more blood sticking to the strands that cause your eyesight to be clouded rather than anything else.
Your lips sting as your tongue runs over the bloody mess, but you whisper it out anyways, if nothing but to blindly spite him.
“You’re fucking crazy. You’re going to jail, you sick motherfucker.”
Keigo throws a leg over both of yours and straddles himself above you on the couch where you lay. He cocks his head at you and switches his manic expression to one of faux kindness.
“Oh yeah? And how’s that?”
No part of your bruised body hurts as much as your heart does when he throws his past kindness in your face like that.
You stay silent, tears from pain meshing with tears of heartache and sliding down your bloody face as he scoffs over your body.
“Since you can’t seem to answer, lemme make this easy for you sweetheart.”
He leans down and lets his eyes glide over your mangled face and broken body, relishing in his greatest accomplishment yet.
“You won’t tell. Not because you don’t have the strength to-which, mind you, is pretty plausible too-but because I won’t let you.”
Even through the clouded mist in your eyes you can see him grinning like a little boy, the beginning of his laughter sounding like nails on a chalkboard to you.
“I’ve done this dozens if not hundreds of times, you stupid slut. You think you’re special? You’re not shit. Not in my class, not in my life, not in this fucking university. You’re nothing, and the only reason I’m giving you this special attention is ‘cause you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Dabi probably got too cocky and wanted some fun, that’s why the bastard put your jacket right outside my room.”
As you’re left panting wide-eyed, Keigo wastes no time in unceremoniously ripping your shirt off quite literally, yanking your pants and panties down along with tearing your bra off.
It all happens so fast that you dont even think to shield your body again using bruised and bloodied hands. It would also help to see him, but it’s hard to when hot blood is pouring down and pooling in your eye, adding insult to painful injury.
He sees this too, and laughs.
“Hey,” he breathlessly chuckles as he begins straddling you. He lightly slaps your cheek twice and gestures to his hand. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
You try to curse at him, but all that comes up is gurgling bile.
“Yeah yeah, that’s what I thought.” Keigo mutters as he begins fondling you, each large and smooth hand plucking your nipples and lifting them away from your body, testing the weight of them individually in each palm.
You try whining and shifting your body away but he simply drops lower onto your pelvis, almost crushing you. His imprint is clearly felt through his cargo pants which terrifies you.
Golden locks flop onto your neck as his head descends and gleaming white teeth open, akin to a shark’s mouth about to swallow its prey whole. He grants you no mercy as you’re left writhing beneath him as he devours your poor throat.
“Stop this Keigo,” you try to lift an arm out from under him to try and push him off but he absentmindedly pins your wrist above your head.
“I get it, okay? I get it, I swear I won’t tell, just please get off of m-”
“So glad that my star slut finally gets it. You’re not gonna tell. But there’s one more lesson I have yet to teach you.”
All you can do is watch in horror as he makes direct eye contact with you and starts unbuckling his pants.
“How to fulfill your real purpose, and take cock like you were meant to as a submissive little bitch.”