cw: explicit, nudity, alcohol use, stupid frat boy!Toji can’t control his cock around you.
You’d always heard that college was full of unexpected adventures—late-night cramming, wild parties, and the occasional hookup. But nothing prepared you to be fresh out of the shower, locked out of your dorm room in nothing but a flimsy towel, with the universe deciding to throw Toji Fushiguro—your insufferable, cocky frat-boy neighbor—right in your face.
You knock hard, hoping your roommate miraculously isn’t at her boyfriend’s. Nothing. The hallway is dead quiet except for muffled bass leaking from somewhere down the block from frat row.
Great. Just great.
You’re weighing the humiliation of marching to the front desk like this when heavy footsteps round the corner from the stairwell.
Of course it’s him.
Toji Fushiguro—6’0” of pure frat-boy arrogance—struts into view wearing low gray sweats that hang dangerously on his hips, a black tank stretched across his chest, black hair still damp and messy from his own shower and a six-pack dangling loosely from his hands.
His eyes light up the second he sees you. From bare legs to towel knot to the death glare you’re already leveling at him. “Well fuck me,” he drawls, stopping way too close. “If this isn’t the best thing I’ve seen all semester.”
You clutch the towel tighter, nails digging into terrycloth. “Fushiguro. Fuck off.”
He doesn’t and instead leans one shoulder against the wall beside your door, effectively blocking half the hallway. “Locked out?”
“Obviously.”
“In that?” His gaze drags down, eyes never leaving your tits that spilled out from the towel. “Bold choice.”
“Spare me the commentary. Just… go get the RA or something. Do something useful for once in your life.”
He pauses and tilts his head like he’s actually considering it. Then he pockets his phone, leaning one shoulder against the wall beside your door again, and crosses his arms. “Hmm…no.” He smiles slowly, “I think I’ll stand right here and watch. Keep you a little company. You look cold. Wouldn’t want you catching a chill in nothing but that sad little towel.”
Your jaw drops for half a second before snapping shut. “Are you fucking serious? You’re just gonna stand there and perv while I freeze? Classy, Toji. Real classy.”
He shrugs, unbothered. “I’m a gentleman. Offering moral support.”
“Moral support,” you repeat, voice rising. “You’re offering to be a pervy freak, you absolute walking red flag. Do you get off on this? On making people miserable?”
“Only the cute ones who hate me,” he fires back, eyes sparkling with amusement. “It’s entertaining. You get all flushed and mean. It’s adorable.”
You scoff, “Adorable? I’m not your entertainment, you overgrown man-child. Go find someone else to bother. I’m sure there’s a line of girls downstairs who’d love to stroke your massive fucking ego.”
“Massive ego, huh?” He raises a brow, clearly delighted. “You’ve been thinking about my size?”
“Shut. Up.” You take a step toward him, finger already pointing. “You’re insufferable. Arrogant. Loud. And you are the WORST dorm neighbor to have.”
“You’re feisty tonight. I like it.”
“Of course you do. You like anything that strokes your ego even a little.”
He’s still grinning, eyes locked on yours, “The RA’s out, by the way. Saw him at the liquor store on my way back. He’s probably buying more beer for the after-party. No need to get all emotional over me.”
Your blood pressure spikes so fast your cheeks flush, “Emotional? You think this is me being emotional? I’ll show you emotional you dick.”
He lifts both hands in mock surrender, still smiling like this is the best night of his life and before he could get a word out you close the distance in one furious step and jab your finger hard into the center of his chest—right over that stupid black tank stretched across muscle.
“You’re unbelievable,” you hiss, pressing harder. “A complete—”
The towel—already precariously knotted—gives one slip! It doesn’t fall all the way, but it loosens enough that the top edge dip low enough to expose more of your breasts than you wanted to. His eyes drop instantly before you yank the towel back up with your free hand, cheeks burning, but you don’t step back. Your finger is still digging into his chest, “Eyes up here, asshole,” you snap as his eyes flick back up.
“Damn, well,” he drawls, “Looks like your only options are to wait here all night—freezing your pretty ass off, hoping some drunk freshman doesn’t stumble by with their phone out—or…” He leans in, “…come back to my dorm with me.”
“The hell I’m not sleeping with you,” you spit, yanking your finger back, “I’m not going back to your dorm. There’s no way in hell I’m having sex with you, Fushiguro. Not tonight. Not ever.”
For a second he just blinks at you before throwing his head back and laughing. “Who said anything about sex?” he asks, voice dripping mock innocence. “Jesus, princess. I was just trying to be a nice neighbor and give you a hoodie. Maybe let you sit on my couch until housing gets their shit together. But damn—” He lets his eyes rake down your body again, “—the way your mind went straight there? I’d say you're the horny one not me.”
Heat floods your cheeks, “You—You absolute piece of shit. Twisting my words. You’re the one who made it sound—”
“Made it sound like what?” He steps closer—close enough your bare toes bump his sneakers. “Like I want you in my room? In my clothes? Maybe on my bed because the couch sucks?” He shrugs one shoulder, casual as anything. “Guilty. But I didn’t say dick about fucking you. That’s all you, sweetheart.”
You want to scream. You want to slap that smug look off his face. You want—You want to not be standing here half-naked, freezing. “I’d rather freeze to death,” you hiss.
“Yeah?” He raises a brow. “Suit yourself then.” He turns and keys into his room before turning around and locking eyes with your breasts and then back up to your face. “C’monn. Last chance.”
You roll your eyes before you follow, towel clutched in a death grip.
“Mi casa,” he says motioning for you to walk in first. “Make yourself comfortable.”
You step inside, immediately scanning and the room isn’t bad per se. The bed is mostly made, an organized-ish desk poster of some only fans girl you didn’t recognize. “Sit. Or stand. Whatever. You’re dripping on my floor.”
“I’m not sitting on your bed in a towel, perv.”
“Fair.” He crosses to his dresser, yanks open the top drawer, and pulls out a black hoodie. He tosses it at you without warning and you catch it one-handed, the other still glued to the towel knot.
You glare. “Turn around.”
He raises both brows and doesn’t move.
“Turn. Around,” you repeat, “And close your eyes. I’m not changing with you staring like a fucking creep.”
Toji snorts. “Princess, I’ve already seen more than most guys get on a third date. Relax.”
“I said turn around.”
He holds your stare before shrugging like it’s no big deal. “Fine. Whatever makes you feel safe.”
He turns his back to you. Broad shoulders, black tank clinging to muscle, gray sweats slung so low you can see the dimples at the base of his spine, fuck that’s hot. He plants his hands on the desk like he’s bracing himself.
“Eyes closed?” you snap.
“Yep.”
“Swear.”
“Swear on my dead goldfish.”
You roll your eyes, “You’re so fucking irritating.”
But it’s not like you have any other options. So you slip on his hoodie quickly, the fabric is warm from sitting in his drawer. You smooth it down self-consciously, hyper-aware of how bare your legs still are. Toji’s still facing away, but his head is angled just enough toward the full-length mirror leaning against the far wall.
He watched the whole thing. Didn’t even pretend not to. Saw your bare ass and tits through the reflection.
Your mouth drops open. “You absolute dog,” you hiss, crossing your arms over your chest even though the hoodie already covers you. “The fuck happened to privacy?”
“I turned around.” He shrugs as he finally pivots to face you. “Didn’t say shit about the mirror. You should know better than to trust a guy like me.”
You stare at him, mouth still agape, god, the sheer audacity of this asshole. You scoff, stepping back until your calves hit the edge of his bed, arms still crossed. “You’re disgusting, Fushiguro. If you think this is turning into some porno plot where I thank you by dropping to my knees, you’re delusional.”
But as your eyes flick down—purely to avoid his smug face—you notice it. “Oh my god,” you say, “Are you seriously hard right now?”
“Mind your business,” he mutters, one hand casually dropping to adjust his sweats—like that’s gonna hide anything. But it only draws more attention, the movement making the bulge twitch noticeably. He clears his throat, trying to play it cool. “It’s a natural reaction. You’re naked. In my room.”
You step closer, arms crossed under your chest, “Natural reaction?” you echo, voice dripping mock sympathy. “Poor baby. Can’t control yourself for five seconds? That’s honestly sad.”
“Keep talkin’ shit,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded now. “It’s only makin’ it worse.”
You glance down and yep. If anything, he’s harder. The head is pressing so insistently against the fabric you can see the exact shape of it.
“Mm. you’re still staring.”
Your eyes snap up from his crotch so fast. “I am not—”
“You are.” He takes one lazy step closer. The bulge shifts with the movement, “Got a real good view of those pretty tits bouncing when you pulled my hoodie on. Couldn’t help it.”
You want to punch and castrate the fucker. “Jesus, Fushiguro, at least pretend to be ashamed,” you snap.
“I’m sorry,” he says, holding his hands up like he’s been caught, “But you're just making it harder. Literally.”
You tilt your head, feigning innocence as you glance down again, then back up to meet his gaze. “Aww, Horny little Toji. Need a cold shower? Or should I call one of your groupies to come handle that for you? Bet they’d love to see their big bad frat boy reduced to whatever this is.”
He smirks, infuriating you more, laughing as he says, “Nah. I think I’ll just sit here and let you keep talking shit. Turns out, your bitchy little attitude is a fuckin’ turn-on. Who knew?”
You shove at his shoulder, but it’s like pushing against a wall. Toji just stands there, smirking down at you, that damn bulge still front and center. Your hand lingers for a second too long on his shoulder before you snatch it back, cheeks heating up despite yourself.
“Hands to yourself, princess,” he drawls teasingly, “Unless you’re offering to help with my… problem.”
You scoff, but your eyes betray you, flicking down again for a split second. God, it’s impossible to ignore and yeah, maybe a little impressive if you were in the mood to admit it. Which you’re not. “Help? Dream on. I’d rather watch you suffer. It’s the least you deserve after that mirror stunt.”
He laughs, stepping even closer until his thighs brush against yours. “Suffer? Nah, this is fun. You’re all worked up, wearing my shit let’s be real—you haven’t asked for pants yet. Kinda makes a guy wonder if you’re enjoying the view too.”
You narrow your eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of backing up. Instead, you plant your hands on your hips, the hoodie riding up higher. “Enjoying? Please. This is pity. You’re like a puppy humping a leg—desperate and embarrassing. Does this happen every time a girl calls you out? No wonder you blast that shitty music at 2 a.m. Gotta rub one out from all the rejection you get.”
Toji’s smirk widens as he reaches out, hooking a finger under the hem of the hoodie and tugs lightly pulling you closer. “Rejection? From you? Sweetheart, you’re the one in my room, half-dressed, poking at me like you can’t keep your hands off. If anyone’s desperate…” He trails off, eyes locking onto yours as his thumb brushes your skin, damn him.
You swat his hand away, “Touch me again and I’ll knee you right where it hurts. Bet that’d solve your little issue real quick.”
“Little?” He barks out a laugh as his hand drops to his sweats again, adjusting shamelessly, the movement making everything… obvious. “Y’know you could just admit you like riling me up. Makes two of us.” You bite your lip to stifle a laugh and and shove him again harder. He finally rocks back a step as you ignore his horny attempts at getting into your panties, “Whatever, perv. Just hand over some sweats before I decide to raid your drawer myself. And try not to cream your pants while you’re at it.”
He scoffs leaning back against his desk his biceps looking deliciously bite-able as he crosses his arms, “Go ahead—raid away. See if you can find somethin’ that fits your prissy ass.”
You yank open the bottom drawer, rifling through a mess of folded clothes. Gym shorts, more tanks, a couple of hoodies… ah, there. A pair of black sweatpants, soft and drawstring-tied, probably way too big but better than prancing around in just his hoodie like some frat-house cliché. You snatch them out, holding them up triumphantly. “These’ll do. And no, I’m not thanking you.” You shimmy into the sweats quick as you can, rolling the waistband a few times to make them fit without dragging on the floor. They’re loose on your hips as you tie the drawstring tight. Your phone buzzes beside you,
Hey girl, sry you got locked out. Staying at Satoru’s place again tonight… and probs tomorrow too lol. His twin’s out of town so we have the place to ourselves iykwim. I’d check w/ the RA! night love u!
You stare at the screen, rereading it like it’ll change. Another night? Tomorrow too? What the actual fuck. That means you’re locked out until… whenever she decides to leave Satoru’s side which won’t be for a good while. The front desk won’t do shit this late—they’ll just tell you to crash with a friend or something. And your “friends” are either at the party downstairs or scattered across campus.
“Bad news?” Toji asks, voice laced with fake concern as he saunters over, peering over your shoulder without a shred of shame. He reads the text in one glance and bursts out laughing, “Oh shit, princess. Looks like you’re stuck. No roomie rescue tonight.”
You toss your phone onto the bed, groaning as you flop back against the mattress. “This is a nightmare. I am not sleeping here. I’d rather crash on the common room couch with the mystery stains.”
He drops down beside you, the bed dipping under his weight, “Common room? With all the drunk idiots stumbling in? Nah, that’s a bad idea. You’d wake up with some freshman’s head in your lap.” He stretches out, propping himself on one elbow to look down at you, “Face it—you’re crashing here. I got a king bed. Plenty of room. I’ll even be a gentleman and stay on my side.”
You prop yourself up too, shooting him a irritated look, “Gentleman? You? The guy who just spied on me changing. Yeah, right. What’s the catch, Fushiguro? You gonna try slipping it in me in the middle of the night?”
“Not unless you ask…But if you end up cuddling me in your sleep, that’s on you. And hey, if you need help warming up…” He reaches out, tucking a damp strand of hair behind your ear “C’mon, princess. I’ll even sleep on the floor if you’re that scared of catchin’ feelings.”
You swat his hand away, “Feelings? Please. I’d catch an STD first.”
His gaze dips to where the sweats hug your hips, then back up. “Just say the word.”
You grab a pillow and smack him with it, “In your dreams, perv. Fine, I’ll stay—but only because I have no choice. Touch me and you’re dead. Got it?”
His legs spread wide trying to adjust his insistent hard on, “Deal.” He grins satisfied. “Now, want a beer? Might help you relax.”
You sigh, flopping back onto the bed. “God, yes. But only if you promise to keep your dick in your pants.”
“No promises,” he says, cracking open the six-pack. “But I’ll try.”
He hands you a cold can, popping the tab for you. You snatch it, taking a long swig to drown out the absurdity of this whole night. Toji cracks his own, chugging half in one go before settling back against the headboard, one arm slung behind his head.
You crawl over, settling against the wall, pulling the covers up over your legs as you take another sip. The sheets smell like him, hints of weed and the cologne he wears. Annoying how it’s not gross. Toji slides in on the other side, the mattress dipping again, his broad frame taking up way too much space even in a king. He kills the overhead light, leaving just the soft glow from a desk lamp.
You fidget, staring at the ceiling, then glancing around the dim room. The OnlyFans poster on the wall. A stack of protein shakes on the shelf. His sneakers kicked off by the door. It’s all so…not what you'd expected from a frat boy, well, except for the poster of the model.
Toji catches you looking, propping his head on one hand. “What?”
You hesitate, cheeks already warming for no reason. “I… kinda like to sleep holding something in my hands. Like… a pillow or…”
“Or a stuffed animal?” he finishes for you. Well great, this is embarrassing, you think to yourself.
Your face ignites. “NO! No, I just—just, ugh, yes, fine! I just have one that my dad gave me. And I always sleep with it and it’s fine, I don’t have to, I just—”
Before you can ramble yourself into a deeper hole, Toji reaches behind his own pillow without a word and pulls out a soft white bunny plush. He tosses it lightly in your direction.
You catch it reflexively, blinking down at it. Your embarrassment fades as you hold it. Compassion sneaks in for this idiot frat boy who’s seen your tits and ass tonight, popped a boner like a teenager, and is now… being kind of sweet? In his own asshole way. Damn it. You glance from the bunny to Toji, you were taken aback by his unexpectedly decent behavior. You hug the bunny to your chest without thinking, fingers sinking into the plush. “Are you sure? You don’t… need it to sleep or—?”
“Nah. That’s not mine.”
You immediately chuck it back at his face. “I don’t want to sleep with something your ex or some girl you fucked in here left behind, you gross—”
He catches it one-handed, laughing “Chill, princess. It’s my baby cousin’s. She left it here when my family came to visit last month. Kid’s obsessed with bunnies. I just forgot to give it back.”
He holds it out again, this time more gently, “Here, take it.”
You stare at it for a beat, then take it back, “Oh. Okay. Thanks.” You pause, squeezing the ears absently. “Do you have a big family?”
Toji takes a long pull from his beer, shrugging one shoulder. “I guess? Three baby cousins—Naoya, Maki n’ Mai, annoying as hell. One uncle who’s a walking headache. The rest of the clan I was born into… I don’t talk to most of ‘em. Haven’t in years.”
You glance at him sideways as you sip your beer, “…That sucks,” you say finally.
He snorts softly. “Yeah. Life’s a bitch.” he says, taking another swig. As you continue to make more observations about him. “Didn’t peg you for the family-visit type. Thought you’d be too busy… I don’t know, bench-pressing or doing sorority girls or whatever frat boys do.” He snorts, setting his empty can on the nightstand. “Bench-pressing? Nah, that’s for show-offs. I save my energy for better things.” His gaze slides to you, lingering on your lips, “Like dealing with bitchy neighbors who end up in my bed.”
You smack his arm with the bunny’s ear, laughing despite yourself. “Shut up. This is temporary.”
“Yeah, sure. Whatever you wanna tell yourself.” he murmurs, but he rolls onto his side, facing away from you, actually giving you privacy this time. Wow, I guess this frat boy isn’t so bad.
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