#fuyumi todoroki x black reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nohoney · 4 months ago

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touya x drug dealer! reader has been an idea that i’ve been wanting to do for a while. i had thoughts of cute flowing dresses, flutes of champagne, strawberries with brown sugar, and a powdery compact mirror with a credit card lined with white at the edge ♡

Touya hates going to the country club. He hates having to get ready to wear the stupid polo shirt and pressed pants his mother picked out for him. He hates having to take out most of his face jewelry, only leaving his eyebrow piercing as a slight rebellion to irritate his father. It’s all so annoying to him but to be fair—

They all hate going to the country club together.

It’s only an obligation for them to attend as a family. To show up so that Enji’s professional business ties can remain intact if the event is important enough. It’s the only time everyone agrees together as a family. Despite the fact that going to the country club is meant to be a luxurious get away, the Todoroki’s see it as anything but.

With the exception of Shouto who is too young to partake in anything, the rest of the family cope in their own ways to survive an agonizing event that none of them want to attend.

Enji smokes in private with the other men, Rei quietly nurses a glass of white wine as she makes polite conversation with the other wives, Fuyumi and Natsuo discreetly pass a weed pen between one another, and Touya…

Well he’s got his special friend that he knows where to find.

All throughout the club, there’s little signs that lead to a certain someone who exchanges little treats for just the right price. It could be money or it could be secrets or something else entirely, but the exchange given has to be deemed equal in value to what is handed out. There’s bouquets that are found throughout the entire club, all seemingly of the same variations except for one flower that’s meant to point you in a certain direction.

Touya walks through the club, noting the one flower that sticks out in the bouquets as a subtle sign of where to find you.

Following the secret path, it leads him this time to a room with only a single piano in the center and the white curtains drawn over the windows.

It’s a beautiful grand piece of shiny, lacquered black and is maintained regularly in its tuning. No music is being played though, all that’s heard is the tinkling laugh from one of the two people that are sitting on the piano bench. Touya walks with his hands in pockets, leisurely in his step when he approaches you. Next to you is the caddy that often accompanies your father on the golf course, amber eyes lifting to him and giving him a friendly nod.

“Touya, so nice to see you again!” you greet with a warm smile. You’re graceful in the way you stand up from the piano bench, sliding your hand along the caddy’s shoulders as you make your way to Touya. He leans down, used to the customary greeting of kissing each cheek from you. The perfume you wear is new, smelling more like citrus and freesia than the usual florals he’s used to.

Turning back to the caddy, you wave him off. “I’ll meet you later Keigo, okay?”

The feathery blonde haired caddy stands from the piano bench, pressing a kiss to your temple first before making his way out.

“So, what can I do for you today Touya? You wanna be perked up? Or you wanna relax?” You ask him immediately, leaning against the grand piano and clacking your manicured nails against the surface.

“You ever think that maybe I’m just here to see you? And nothing more?” Touya playfully nudged his shoe against your ankle, also noting the clean polish of your pedicure. Strappy white heels are your choice of shoe today to compliment your tea dress.

You’re this vision of a good girl, prim and proper, soft and sweet. All the mannerisms you exude are perfected and practiced, taught firmly from the all girls school that you attended. On the surface, you’re just simply the rich daughter to the man who owns the country club. You’re known to love lounging by the pool or reading under the shady trees by the garden. The older adults love to fawn over you, even trying to set you up with suitors but only if they’re screened through your father first.

Rolling your eyes at him, you flash him a smile that sends the message of ‘yeah right’ before you wave him over.

You lift the piano bench where your current stash resides. It’s organized meticulously of all types of different pills and already measured bags of different powders. Nude colored nails hover over the selection that you know him to always get, but you’re polite enough to ask first for confirmation before plucking the packed substances from their spot.

“The usual?”

Touya pulls money out from his pocket, the same exact amount that he’s paid every single time he’s seen you. “The usual.” he confirms.

You hold two baggies for him, one with two blue pills and the other filled halfway of white powder. Touya takes it from you and waits for you to take out the held out cash.

“Mm, this dress doesn’t have pockets. Can’t take it.” you smile as you shut the piano bench, “I’ll take a kiss though.”

Touya smiles back, pocketing his cash alongside the goodies you’ve given him. “Is that how you’re taking payments today? With kisses?”

He knows you want him, you’ve been wanting him ever since he had fucked you at your father’s birthday party just a few months back. He can still recall the champagne he tasted on your lips, the silky material of your party dress as he pushed it over your hips, the smell of peony and honey spritzed onto your skin when he had bit your shoulder. It was an amazing fuck, one that he thought about going back for, but he liked to see you dangle yourself for him. Beg him with those pretty eyes and try to seduce him with low cut dresses or leave lingering touches that you hoped pull him in.

You shrug your shoulders and play coy, stepping into his personal space to smooth your hands along his shoulders as if you were going in to hug him. “Special just for you, I’ll figure it out with the rest.”

His hand slides along the small of your back to pull you in and close the space. “You are so bad.”

“I happen to be a very good girl, my record shows that.”

“Your records were expunged by your dear daddy.”

“So therefore, I have done nothing wrong.” you giggle, “C’mon, stop teasing me like this. You never want to see me outside of this place. I only see you when you and your family come to the club for an event, and you guys always look so miserable.”

“And that’s why I’m here,” Touya’s hand drops lower, grabbing at your ass and relishing your little gasp, “because you help me get through these aggravating events.”

He teases you, has you chasing after him and keeps him entertained whenever he comes to this ridiculously posh club. You play the polite girl when you’re out among the crowd but he’s always felt your eyes on him whenever the two of you are in the same room together. If you could keep your eyes on him the entire time you would, but sadly you have to get pulled aside from so many people. From your inner circle, to polite introductions to your father’s colleagues, to the ones who want a little something to get them through the night. You carry yourself with grace and good posture, more than any girl that he had ever met.

You’re the classiest little drug dealer he knows.

And like every deal, a transaction has to be completed. So he leans down to kiss you, holding you tightly by your waist to bring you closer to him. You’re so eager for him locking your fingers behind his neck, sighing sweetly that makes him reminisce of that night you had together. The plush of your lips takes him back to that night, back when you smelled more floral and warm, when he had found you lounging alone at the pool and bored from your father’s party.

Surprisingly you pull away from the kiss. “I like you Touya, c’mon we had so much fun together at my daddy’s party. Don’t you wanna have fun again?”

“I never said that I didn’t want to do it again.” Touya points out as he takes a seat on the piano bench, “It’s crossed my mind.”

You pout at him, the gloss from earlier kissed off slightly sticky on his lips instead. Carefully you wipe away the remnants of the gloss from his lips, smudging it on the pads of your fingers. “You’re so mean, you know that? Don’t you know to not make your plug mad?”

“Ah, how can I make it up to you, princess? Please oh please,” Touya wryly plays along with you, “what can I do to get back in your good graces?”

You hold out your hand to him, “Take a walk with me.”

Walking out hand in hand with you, he is led out of the piano room and allows you to take him to wherever it is you have in mind. You pass by one person that you give a subtle signal too, Touya observing how they make their way to the piano room with a key in hand. He wonders how much you’ve paid off certain workers inside the country club to help and protect you.

He admires that about you, not being afraid to exercise your power. Maybe it just comes with being a spoiled brat who can get her record wiped clean when she calls her daddy with crocodile tears. All this wealth at your disposal and the only thing that entertains you is being the unofficial country club girl scout for xannies, oxies, and other treats.

Touya is led to different halls throughout the club, some he recognizes more than others, but not as well as you do. These are your grounds after all. The caddy from before is seen talking to a group of gentlemen, the elders clearly enjoying conversation with him if the boisterous laughter and the friendly pats on his back are anything to go by. Hell, Touya’s father is apart of the group and even he looks to be amused from whatever quip the feathery haired young man doled out.

Keigo must sense your presence nearby as he immediately looks up to see you. You blow an air kiss to him and he pretends to catch it in his fist. Touya can swears that when he looked at you, you mouthed ‘love you’ to him as they passed by.

He doesn’t know much about Keigo, only that he was brought on by you and that he happens to be very charming with many people. Looks wise, he can see why you went for him but Touya hasn’t taken any personal interest to get to know the caddy.

People pass by and give you pleasant greetings, all of which you returned kindly but never paused to have a conversation. There’s excitement running through you as Touya follows behind, wondering where exactly you’re taking him. He can tell by how eager your pace is that gives it away. It’s precious, he enjoys it too much.

You want him that badly.

━━━━✧

Touya’s not sure how he’ll explain to his mother how his pants got so wrinkled, but it’s a thought that gets pushed out of his mind as he smothers you in a kiss. He’s trying to recall his last excuse when his mother questioned how he became so unkept. The answer isn’t quite coming to him; all he can recall is just the adrenaline he had afterwards from fucking you so good. Normally he’s very smooth with his words, lying easily to anyone when it pleases him, but he had gotten pussy drunk off of you and his brain just wasn’t operating the same.

You and that cunt of yours.

He’s almost upset that he’s been denying himself this entire time. There were plenty of nights recalled the sloppy kisses from you, the elegant way you crooked your finger to bring him to you, and when you pulled on the roots of his hair when he had eaten you out. Truthfully he had wanted to chase you just as much when the deed had been done. But as he’s got you on your knees for him, Touya remembers why he decided to not give into you so easily.

“Please Touya? Please, pretty please?”

It’s so sweet when you beg.

He remembers after coming down from the high that arrogant look on your face when he had helped zip your dress back up. That because he had shagged with you then he was surely to come at your beck and call. Instead of giving in, Touya decided that he’d like to see you chase after him. To have you be the one sending text messages or letting late night calls go unanswered, declining private invitations from you to keep you frustrated.

He still has all your voicemails of you breathless and needy, begging softly for him to just want you back.

Your voice is small and pitched, whiny almost as you pathetically tug at his belt as you sink to your knees. You’re practically drooling for it, eyeing his bulge and caressing it gently through the fabric. Christ, he really made you that in love with his cock. “Oh princess, don’t tell me you’ve been pining after me.” He coos over you and tilts your head up to look at him, “All this time?”

“Yes, god yes!” You admit and jut your lower lip in a pout, “I would wait around for you, hoping you’d answer me or even come visit! I’ve always been so nice to you Touya, and you just ignore me!”

It is the spoiled brat in you that’s making you act this way. You’re such a good girl, a nice girl, a pleasant and sweet and pretty girl that there shouldn’t be any reason to give you this awful treatment. That’s how you see it. That you’re the one who blessed Touya with the rare gift of giving him personal access to you so therefore, he should be grateful and be falling at your feet.

Touya has his own pride though.

“Is that darling caddy you’re so fond of not enough for you?”

“I adore Keigo, I love him,” you admit, “but I want you too.”

You want him desperately, slowly crumbling your pride as you beg softly for him. This is what Touya wanted from you. To see you throw a bit of dignity away just for him.

“Yeah? You mean that?” he asks you, using a single finger under your chin to lift your gaze up to him.

“Yes.”

He could probably ask anything of you in this moment if it meant that he’d give himself up to you. Something that you would find worth it for him to finally cure your ache. Admittedly one of his fantasies with you is to use one of your fancy lipsticks to draw the filthiest names on your body and take pictures for evidence. He wants to write slut at your tits, whore written in fat letters on your back, maybe even cumdump on your tummy with an arrow pointing down to your cunt. Touya wonders if that would be too much though.

He wants to demean you so bad, knock you off your high horse and make you look pathetic.

Yet there’s also some desire in him to cherish you too. You are the darling of this club, adored and revered and Touya falls into that crowd too. That it wouldn’t be so bad if you were to wear a dainty necklace with his initial, have you in his car for leisurely joy rides down by the coast, and go on those stupid fancy picnics that you posted on your instagram.

“Need you Touya, need you!” you whine, catching his hand and leaning your cheek into his palm. Aw look at you, trying to look sweet for him, giving him doe eyes and batting your lashes.

There’s some laughter outside, just a small group passing by the room you’ve locked yourselves in for privacy. There’s a little sign that you hung on the door handles: the art gallery is closed. Nearby is a sculpture of a nude woman, crafted by one of the local artists here and was in the club’s newsletter not too long ago. Touya glances to it, finding it beautiful and better in person than in the photo they had taken of it. Art is usually better to see in person anyway-

“Touya!”

You’re not on your knees anymore for him, standing to your feet and smoothing down your dress. Ah, you’re upset now—actually upset at him. “If you don’t want me, then just fucking go. You’ve been playing these games with me and I’m tired!” you huff and try to pick up your heels that you discarded onto the floor when you had locked up the room, “Keep the stuff I gave you, I still won’t charge you for today.”

His hand goes to your wrist and he’s pulling you back to him, wrapping you up in a hug as he hushes you, “Don’t be so upset, it’s not a good look for you.”

“Well I wouldn’t be if you would just look at me!” you almost cry, sinking into his body and making a small noise when he hugs you tighter. “Everyone else wants me, why don’t you? Don’t you want me?”

It surprises him how genuine you’re being. You can’t be this upset, can you?

It makes Touya happy that he can make you this way.

“Never said that I didn’t, princess.” he admits finally, “I like you back, is that all you need to hear?”

He’s given a little nod, feeling your hand press at his bulge again. Your hand caresses his cock through his slacks and you sigh a little, slightly tilting your head up and nosing along his jawline. Touya bites down the smug smile that wants to sprout up on his face—this is how he wanted you, on his terms and not on yours. So now that he’s got you right where he wants you…

“Ow!” you cry out when Touya roughly grabs a handful of your hair right at the root, pulling you just enough to make you look up at him. He holds tightly and coos over your shocked expression, your wide eyes looking up at him with a small sense of betrayal. How could he switch up on you so fast like that? “T-Touya..!”

You pout up at him, your lips tempting him to kiss you.

“You’re not the good girl you make yourself out to be. Like you got everyone wrapped around your little finger, huh?” Touya speaks haughtily, his grip flexing slightly and tugging slightly on the roots of your hair, “Good girls don’t sell drugs out of a piano bench and fuck around with the piss poor caddy that’s so popular around here.”

“Maybe not other girls,” you hiss through your teeth, “but I can.”

You can do whatever you want, it’s how you lived your life. If there are any rules you’ve broken, you’ve always been very good to take care of it yourself mostly. Look at how you flout about, walking around with your pretty heels and waving the help over with darling manicured hands, discreetly handing cash and speaking with the sweetest lilt to get people to do what you please.

Touya snorts, but he does admire you all the same. If he had more drive to do anything, he’d probably be working under you too.

But he hates being inside this stupid country club, which is where you typically are when you’re not traveling or with your own gaggle of friends. This is where you like to work after all, and will be yours to run once your dear daddy passes.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful.” Touya sighs out before leaning down to kiss you. He’s unexpectedly soft considering the tight grip he still has on you, slotting his lips against yours too intimately for someone who also wants to ruin you all the same. It’s a long kiss he gives you, that it even gets the butterflies fluttering inside of his chest.

He pulls back and releases the hold he had on your hair, twirling his finger in a circle to indicate for you to turn around. You present your back to him, getting flashbacks to when Touya had first undressed you. His fingers are cold as he fiddles with the zipper at the back and pulls it down slowly. The dress loosens from your body and you shrug off the thin straps. It falls to the floor in a pool surrounding your feet, and you’re left standing in a little cotton panty that’s lined with lace. Your nipples are perked due to the chill of the room but you don’t bother to cover yourself to retain some modesty.

You’ve been wanting to be like this in front of Touya for the longest time.

You’re given another wordless command, blue eyes briefly glancing down to the hardwood floor. Kicking your dress off to the side, you kneel down in front of Touya once more and watch as he unzips his slacks and pulls his cock through the opening. Your mouth practically waters upon seeing his dick again, so thick and with the prettiest color at the tip you had seen. You’re about to go in when he stops you with a simple little tut.

Glancing up at him, you wonder what he could possibly have to say.

“Don’t get too sloppy, can’t walk out of here with fucking drool stains on my crotch.”

Touya hopes to fuck you in his bed one day, have you squirt on his sheets, and then cum all over your face. But while the two of you are here, the two of you have to be able to come out look presentable. He can’t go as wild as he wants on but he fucking swears that he’s gonna make you fucked out by him one of these days.

You nod in understanding before swallowing his cock into your throat. There’s some dreamy sigh from you as you bob up and down on his cock; you really must have been aching for this. There’s enthusiasm as you swallow all his inches, looking up at Touya and going all doe eyed for him. See how much you wanted him?

He admires your small gags, the way your body lurches when you choke deeply on his cock, but he reminds you again to try to keep your drool from getting on him. Touya wants to fuck your face, he wants to make you cry from fucking your mouth too hard, and even slap your cheek. There’s so much he wants to do but this isn’t the time or place to do any of it.

You’d be pissed off too if he even attempted.

You pull off his cock, a line of drool connecting your lips to his cock still but it gets wiped away quickly by the back of your hand.

Touya grabs your wrist to bring you to your feet, pulling you to the nearest wall to fuck you against. Your hands brace the flat surface, grunting when Touya uses one hand to jut your ass back to him and the other presses your head to the wall. With your back arched, he admires your elegant form under the soft lighting of the art gallery. The lovely still life painting of a bouquet does not compare to how fucking beautiful you are in this moment.

He can’t wait until he can ruin you to tears.

He offers his fingers to your lips, your mouth obediently dropping to lick and spit on them. It tickles a little with the way your tongue drags along his fingers but he doesn’t allow it for long. Touya only needs just enough to finger your hole, even spitting on his own fingers before he does a careful but quick prep after pulling down your panties.

“Oh god… oh fuck…” you mutter, your eyes shutting as relishing in his touch, “Fuck me please!”

“Relax.” Touya is firm in his tone, acting cool and masking the equal desperation that is surging throughout his own body. He wonders if you notice how eager his fingers are to be inside you, biting his lip to force down the wolffish smile on his face when he feels how wet you are. All that teasing before that he had done to you was worth it.

It was worth all of it to lead up to this moment.

His fingers withdraw and he sucks on them, savoring the taste of your slick along his tongue. Touya recalls how he ate you out at your father’s birthday party, driving you wild with his tongue on your clit and the sweet noises you made. It would be nice to do it again.

Your body shudders a little as the head of Touya’s cock nudges against your pussy, a sharp little breath sucked in as the first few inches sink into you. “Fuck!” you quietly curse.

Touya would like to savor this, to take his time and work you up into a sloppy, pretty little mess. To finger your clit until you cry out of frustration and then choke you if you give him an attitude. There’s so many things that he wishes he could do in this moment. But you remind him—

“Please hurry, we can’t be in here for long.”

Because you’ve got people waiting for you. People waiting to eagerly meet you, whether at your piano bench or if you’re needed somewhere else to help maintain your father’s appearance. No matter how much Touya has this vision of what he wants, he knows that he truly can not have you in his own way.

But he’s grateful to get you anyway.

He thrusts in, sinking in smoothly but with a sharp clap of his body meeting yours. Your pussy tightens up on him from the brief shock that is also coupled with a small gasp. His hands grasp your hips tightly and he pounds away at you, noticing how you help with the motion by moving back into him as well. It’s quiet inside the art gallery so all Touya can hear is you and the sound of his skin slapping against yours as he fucks hard into you.

“T-Touya!”

It’s just as sweet as the first time, observing how you occasionally look over your shoulder at him and give him sweet doe eyes again. But this time they’re glazed over, your eyelids dropping as you get lost in the pleasure, relishing in everything that you had been waiting for. Touya wonders how many nights you spent fingering yourself to him, he imagines your embarrassment when he would leave your needy voicemails or nudes in his inbox unanswered, and he dreamt more than a few times of you riding that pretty boy caddy in front of him.

I want to fuck you again.

Those words almost slip out as he reaches a hand to finger your clit. Your knees buckle but you maintain yourself, your own little sounds struggling to be kept in. Touya can feel it already, he can feel you just about ready to snap if the way your cunt is clenching around him is any indicator of anything.

“Please cum, please cum!” you desperately whisper, “Please cum in me!”

I need to fuck you again.

Touya fucks harder to get himself to cum, looking down to see that you’ve creamed all over him. He’s grateful that he pushed his pants down enough so that none of it catches onto his clothes. It’d be nice if you could clean up his cock with your mouth after he cums in you, but you’ve got to come out looking as proper as you can be.

So no hair pulling, no spitting in your mouth, no crying to ruin your makeup, and no marks are to be left.

But if you’re going to beg him to cum in you, you should be able to accommodate a reasonable request.

Touya leans over, feeling his control ready to let go as he’s about ready to burst as he mutters in your ear, “Keep my cum in you, keep me inside you.”

His words have your eyes rolling back, answering him with a jittery nod and a sweet yes hissed into the air. “Yes, fuck yes!”

I am going to fuck you again.

Touya jolts into you one last time, pressing himself so deep that you whine his name. He’s emptying himself into you, spilling cum into that delicious cunt of yours. He chances putting a hand at your throat to choke you, his fingers careful at your windpipe and peering down at you as your orgasm wipes your mind blank and has you going limp that he has to catch you.

And then there’s silence.

He’s holding your body against him, carrying your weight as your mind tries to start back up again. Touya drinks in this moment because he knows he won’t get a repeat of this. He may never get the upper hand again now that he’s given you what you’ve been aching for.

He wants to keep coming back not to just buy off you, but to keep seeing you.

“Good, Touya?” you manage to find your voice and lean back against him, patting your hand against his arms that are still holding you tightly.

“The best.” He answers

You chuckle, nodding your head and still remaining in his hold with his cock in you. He wonders why you haven’t bothered to start making yourself proper—

The door to the art gallery unlocks and it has Touya jolting. All the curse words he knows flash in succession in his mind but you pat your hand against him. “It’s okay, it’s Keigo.”

Sure enough, it is.

The pretty caddy with blond hair is approaching the two of you with two small towels in hand. Had he been waiting outside the entire time?

Touya wonders if every move you’ve made has been calculated. Did you know for sure that he would finally fuck you today after keeping you waiting for so long? And to have your favorite toy waiting on hand to clean you up as well?

He takes the offered towel from Keigo but doesn’t offer a thanks. Touya wipes off the remnants of you off his cock, throwing the towel over his shoulder as he pulls his pants back up. His belt buckle clinks as he makes himself presentable.

“Can we stay and talk for a little Keigo?” you ask leisurely as the caddy places the towel over a wooden bench for you to sit on. You’re smoothing down your hair as you sit down, Keigo kneeling down on one knee to massage your calves. Your dress and heels still lay discarded as you appear to take your time getting ready to leave.

“Just for a little, okay? Hana is looking for you—“ Keigo informs you and laughs a little as you groan at the name. It seems he has the sense to not continue the sentence.

Touya is dressed, his pants not as wrinkled as he hoped they would be. Rei will probably take notice like she did last time but this time, he has enough clarity to give an answer that he knows his mother will not believe but does not have any backbone to question.

He supposes that he should go out there.

He’s got what he wanted anyway.

“See ya princess.”

“I’ll see you out there Touya.” You call to him just as he’s out the door.

Stopping by a restroom first, he puts himself in the privacy of a stall after locking the door. He retrieves the dime bag and admires the scaling of the cocaine inside the plastic. He fishes out a key from his wallet, using the tip of it dip into the bag. He inhales a sizable bump into each nostril, wiping his nose clean before flushing the toilet for the sake of seeming as if he had used the facilities.

He joins Natsuo and Fuyumi, the weed pen offered to him as well but he declines. Just a little further down, Shouto is with two boys that he seems to have made friends with. One of them is blond and huffing his chest while the other has hair the color of an evergreen tree and seems to be the mediator of whatever fuss is going on.

Touya leans back into his seat, just a touch more awake as he tastes the drip at the back of his throat.

━━━━✧

It’s a relief when it’s finally time to leave.

Enji and Rei are side by side, she’s holding onto his arm for balance, teetering slightly to the right but is corrected by her husband as he helps her into the car. Shouto is waving his friends goodbye before going along to Fuyumi’s side. She asks him if she had fun and he answers yes. She is no longer high but Natsuo takes a small hit of the pen one last time to tolerate the car ride.

Touya is about ready to take his place inside the car when he hears his name. He looks back to see you walking towards him and he decides to walk to you so that none of his family eavesdrops.

“Thank you for seeing me today, I really enjoyed your company.” you speak with a bubbly lilt and your smile more pleasant than usual. Of course you’re happy—you and Touya finally fucked again.

“Thanks for having me.” Touya responds a little flatter than he intended to, just trying to keep his family off his tail so that they don’t ask questions.

“Text me later.”

It’s not framed as a hopeful question; you’re telling him to text you.

“I will.”

He means it.

No more ignoring or being coy, not anymore since you got what you wanted and Touya knows that he’s given up the power to you. It was nice to briefly wield it but he knows in the end that you are the one to hold all the cards and have things aligned with how you want them.

Touya avoids his father’s gaze as he gets into the car. He leans back into his seat at the very back of the car, crossing his arms over his chest and feeling the buzz of the coke starting to wind down. He chances looking back and you’ve hung around in your same spot, appearing to see him off.

The windows are tinted and he’s sure that you can’t see him through the glass but you wave anyway, as if knowing that he’s looking at you. He resists waving back.

And as the car starts, someone joins you. Wearing all black and with slightly unkempt white hair, Touya recognizes your foster brother. He’s only seen Tomura around a handful of times—unlike you that leaves a trail to be found, he’s a bit elusive.

The car starts to pull away, Touya watches from his seat as your foster brother leans down to you. One would think that he just leaned down to kiss your cheek but he swears that it was a kiss on the lips. It was hard to tell when enough distance had blurred the interaction.

Not that it matters to him anyway.

Later that night, Touya does as promised and he texts you. All the previous messages in his inbox from you were one sided but now he’ll be expected to reach out to you. Maybe you can meet him at a different place occasionally, take you for a ride in his white mustang or share a sorbet with you in the downtown area.

He knows that he will have to meet you more often at the country club though—it is where you work after all.

Touya hates the country club but he’s only ever gone to have a chance to see you.

#todoroki touya x reader #dabi x reader #dabi smut #tw drugs

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shinsocest · 11 months ago

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No. 001

Notes: first of many reuploads, fave of personal faves ♡ commission for @kailali from once upon a time ♡♡♡

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warnings: stepcest, marking, piercings, creampies, fem reader, reader is lifted, degradation & praise, oral (both), multiple orgasms, hard s*x soft feelings

It had been a long day.

You sigh and let your bag fall to the entry floor as you toe off your shoes. As the only quirkless member of the Todoroki family you never had a shot at hero work, but that never meant you had no interest in the hero industry. You finally made it into your preferred field a few months ago, a new hire at your stepmother’s ex’s agency in their crisis management department. Whenever a hero or sidekick makes a mistake or a villain causes too much damage before they’re apprehended, you’re behind the scenes doing as much as you can to fix the lives of those affected.

All in all… paperwork is a bitch.

An irritated puff expels through your nose as you nearly trip over an extra pair of shoes in the foyer, but your irritation dispels when you lay eyes on a worn pair of charcoal converse. You sigh.

“Touya?” you call out as you pad down the hall.

“Living room.” His voice is tired, a sleep laden rasp in his throat.

You sweep through the open kitchen, drop your keys on the counter, and make your way to the living room. You lean in the doorway when you catch sight of him sprawled out on your couch, half under one of the softer throws your stepmom got you for Christmas a couple years ago. The light from the tv bathes him in a silver sheen, highlighting his jet-black hair and glinting off the triple helix on his ear, the gift you’d gotten him for his last birthday.

Touya shifts a little more upright as you come into his line of sight and reaches for the lamp on the side table. The soft yellow light helps, makes him look warmer. The picturesque tattoos of burning hemlock dancing up his forearms and disappearing under his shirt look more lively, and you can see the smile on his face as he looks at you.

But he still looks tired.

“Long day?”

You scoff and then laugh a little, your shoulders sagging as you slouch over to the couch. He opens the blanket in invitation and you crawl in beside him, sighing as he wraps an arm around you, your head dropping onto his shoulder.

“Yeah,” you mumble softly, sighing again as he kisses the top of your head. You return the kiss with one to the side of his neck, your lips pressing to the inky vines winding down his throat. “You?”

“Yeah,” he mutters. His voice is a comfortable rumble against your back. “Somethin’ like that.”

Touya uses your apartment as a personal hideout, ever since you leased the place. At his age he's expected to be living on his own by now, but Rei has a soft spot for her eldest son and won't push him out of the nest. Since he promised you he wouldn't argue with your father, he ends up at your place more often than not. Your dad is the type to be optimistic, encouraging, and stern, and Touya doesn't have the best track record with nurturing authority types—or authority figures in general really—given how strict Endeavor was when it came to raising his children.

He squints at the screen as if just noticing it was on. "Movie's comin' on. Wanna watch it with me?"

"Sure. I think I wanted to see this one, but let me change first."

A short trip to your room is enough to shed your office clothes and slip into a tank top and sleep shorts before you're back in his arms, wiggling until you're comfortable and he’s grumbling at you to settle the fuck down.

It may seem odd from the outside looking in to be this close, but it's always been this way with your step-siblings. Natuso and Fuyumi were the middle children, working hard on their futures when your parents hit it off, so it made sense that the eldest and youngest were the ones who latched onto you the hardest.

Shoto was polite in the beginning—earnest, really—and before long he was looking to you for approval even after he graduated from Yuuei. Touya saw you as another little sibling to look after, in his own way. From the moment you’d moved in, it felt like he was doing his best to make sure there was a place in their family where you fit. You always got the sense it was because he felt like an outlier himself. You were just happy to be accepted, and you adored them both, all of them of course.

Barely halfway through the movie, Touya shifts and his hand slides around to your stomach to hold you more comfortably. It makes you warm, dangerously so.

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t enjoy how touchy-feely Touya always is, and he always seems to be seeking physical comfort from you. He holds your hand when he walks you to the store, always needs a hug before he leaves, and if he doesn't get a kiss on his cheek before he’s out the door, he will pout at you (aka lots of snark and rolled eyes) until you give in.

“You’re shifting a lot tonight, doll. You good?” Touya hums behind you, sounding distracted and you realize you’d been rubbing yourself back against his—

“Sorry!” you whisper, face flaming.

“Don’t worry about it.” After a minute he mutters under his breath about how warm you are. “Don’t tell me you’re my real sister after all, 's like you're on fire.”

“We can take the blanket off—”

“Nah, ‘m fuckin’ freezing, feels good. My hands are cold, can I?”

“You fucker!” you yelp as he pushes his palms under your shirt, his hands like ice on your skin. His smirk is almost tangible behind you as he reprimands you for squirming when he’s doing his best to battle the sudden chill.

“Keep still, would ya?”

You try to kick his shins but he outmaneuvers you, pinning your legs under his own. He chuckles under his breath as the two of you scuffle for a couple moments, tugging you closer until you give up with an exaggerated huff.

“You good now? You’re missing the movie.”

You grumble as you settle, but your heart still races.

During your half-hearted wrestling attempt it had been easy to miss, but now that you’re relaxed into him again you’re becoming aware of the way Touya is heating up behind you. His palm is nearly searing the skin on your navel now, but you’re too distracted by what’s unmistakably digging into your back at the moment.

You know you’re not supposed to get a flutter of anticipation, but it shudders up your spine anyways. Every now and then his hips rock forward like he can’t help himself, and every time they do, that telltale heat building hot and impatient beneath your skin grows.

His fingers are playing with your waistband like they have so many times before. You’re holding your breath as he dips a little lower than usual and you find yourself wondering, telling yourself you’re not hoping for it…but is this the night he’s finally going to cross the line he’s spent so much time dancing around?

You’ve always known. This dance has been happening for a while. You’ve noticed the way he looks at you, and holds you too close, and you feel guilty knowing just how much you enjoy the attention. He always seems to hold himself back though, neither one of you truly acknowledging the heightening desire that builds in the dark.

Your gasp feels loud when his hand firmly slides into your panties—long fingers toying with the apex of your mound, a breath away from the bundle of nerves that feels like a live current desperate for a trigger—but it’s barely more than a tense inhale.

Touya’s lips are almost on your ear, his breath hot as his words push both of you towards an uncharted precipice.

“This okay?”

You know that this is the moment to turn back. If you say something now, he’ll remove his hand and go back to watching the movie.

Your heart pounds rapidly as you think, but something heated and needy coils tight in you. If you deny him now, would he ever have the courage to come after you again? Displeasure rises bitterly at the thought of him distancing himself from you. You want him. Maybe you’ve always wanted him.

“Mhm,” you manage, breathing just a little too hard to be casual, and you feel his grin against your neck.

“That’s my girl.”

Hot pleasure sparks beneath your skin at his words, but it’s nothing compared to the electric shock as his fingers slip between your embarrassingly wet folds.

“That’s my slut,” Touya groans sharply, his tone low and laced with thinly veiled desire. “Do you know how wet you are? I always knew you were a needy little thing.”

You whine as he parts your folds, tracing over your hole and up to your clit. It’s almost twitching with the desire to be touched, white hot and wanting. “Touya, please.”

“Can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to hear that,” he mumbles, tongue pressing to your neck, kissing and biting at the sensitive skin there as he obliges you. You moan breathily and uncontrolled as he circles the bud delicately, again and again. “You sound so good sayin’ my name like that, doll.”

He’s rocking his hips into you steadily now, grinding against your back.

Heat and frustration is building steadily as your step-sibling continues to play with you, and you realize that he is quite literally playing with you—switching between the way he touches your clit, moving from circling it gently to tapping it, rolling it between his fingers.

Touya knows to be thorough, to find out exactly what you like, to make this unforgettable. He’s listening and paying close attention to the way you react to his every touch. Every now and then slender fingers slide down and he presses a digit or two into your soaked cunt, now dripping obscenely, curling them lazily as he searches for what makes your body sing.

Even with his lazy movements, you can feel something coiling tight inside you. Whatever this is between you, it's been too long coming, your hips jerking as pleasure threatens to undo you. But before you can be taken apart, Touya slips his fingers from your waistband.

You whine at the loss, whipping your head towards him only for him to grasp your chin and pull you closer, his tongue prying your lips apart and delving inside. His fingers are still slick from your juices, gripping your chin tighter as he shifts you under him, supporting his weight on one arm as he kisses you like this is his last chance to.

You don’t have the coherency to tell him it’s not, dizzy with want by the time he pulls back. His sapphire eyes darken when you wrap a leg around his hips to instinctively keep him close, his lips glistening in the flickering light of the tv.

“Tell me you want this.” He stares down at you intently, holding your gaze as he waits for your admission.

There’s no point in denying it anymore. Of course you do.

“I want you.”

Touya grabs at your thigh curled around him and pushes it off, smirking at your pout as he sits back on the couch. “‘S cute, but don’t make that face. Strip all that off, and c’mere.”

You all but scramble as he pats his lap, pulling your shirt over your head and bra following quickly, equal parts pleased and embarrassed when you see the way his gaze is locked on you, trailing down your exposed skin. As you slip the last of your clothing down your legs and step out of it you look at him, confused when he just sits there watching you.

“Aren’t you gonna…” you trail off, eyebrows furrowing.

Touya perks an eyebrow at you. “Didn’t I say c’mere? We were watchin’ a movie, weren’t we?”

His voice is too light, and you know that tone. He’s up to something, but big brother Touya is always up to something. And he always gets his way. So instead of questioning him again, you do what he wants and you settle into his lap, only making a small noise of complaint when he faces you away from him.

He clicks his teeth. “Don’t be a brat now, you were being such a good girl earlier.”

“You’re not being fair,” you mumble, squirming. “Why’m I the only one naked?”

“Cause you’re prettier than me.” He’s teasing and you know it.

Your protest is cut off as he yanks you back against his chest and cups your breasts, slender fingers pulling at your nipples and rolling them.

“Fuck!”

“My cute little whore has such a dirty mouth,” Touya purrs in your ear. “Just sit still. Lemme touch.”

You try, you really do. He kneads at your breasts, smoothes his hands down your body, exploring you languidly. It’s impossible.

“Touya—” you break off with a squeak as he bites your shoulder in reprimand. “Hey!”

Touya laves his tongue over the stinging mark and coos. “Aw did that hurt?”

“A little…”

“Want my cock to make it better?”

You suck in a breath. It comes out of his mouth like a sweet invitation, but there’s just enough insecurity in his cocky tone for you to hear (that only you could hear) that you know he’s uncertain of your answer. His heart is pounding against your back, further betraying his underlying anxiety.

Not one to torture your loved ones, you squirm back on him. “Make it better, Touya. Make me feel better.”

“Say it,” he demands, turning your head to look at him.

Blue eyes glare down at you desperately, searching for any hint that you’re playing him. You’re quick to douse the flames of doubt.

“Fuck me,” you whine. “I want your cock.”

“Shit,” Touya breathes, flopping back against the couch, hiking you further up his lap so he can reach the button of his jeans and pop it open.

You moan at the feeling of something warm and hard sliding between your thighs as he shifts you back into place, before spreading your legs over his own.

"Eyes on the movie, doll," Touya rasps, teasing your slit with the head of his cock. "You wanted to watch it, remember?"

You wanted the chance to see him, the disappointment welling in your chest evaporating as quickly as it appears at the feel of him pushing the head in and out of your soaking heat.

"What about you?" Your last word cuts off in a gasp as he pushes into you fully, his girth spreading you open.

"Was never watchin’ the movie," he breathes, a groan hitching in his throat as the walls of your cunt squeezes him in a vice grip.

It feels different, and not just taboo different.

"Touya, what's that?" You moan as something—several cool to the touch somethings—rub against the front wall of your pussy, making your toes curl as pleasure bolts from nerve to nerve.

“I’ll show you later,” he groans impatiently, his hands fumbling on your hips to hold you still. “J-just, fuck— Lay back, would you?”

You comply, and Touya sinks lower on the couch, his feet on the floor to give him the leverage to fuck into you, each stroke slow and languid. Pleasure courses through your veins, hot and sticky, your eyes pinching closed as you focus on the feel of him.

He’s so long and wonderfully girthy—just enough to feel stretched, the fat head of his cock touching deep every time he sinks into you—but you can’t get over the scrape of those…god, what are those?

You can’t think, your moans splitting the thick air of the living room, legs quivering under his touch as he smooths his palms along your spread thighs. You’re both lost in a loop of exhilaration and long awaited satisfaction, your hips jerking into his every time he sinks in deep and grinds.

His teeth meet your shoulder again, digging into the same grooves he left behind before. Your thoughts are sluggish beyond the haze of pleasure but it feels like he’s marking you, leaving something of himself behind. The thought chases away the sharp sting, winds a sudden coil in your gut, and you suck in a breath as something white flashes behind your eyelids.

“Touya!”

“Yeah, I feel it,” Touya moans behind you—moans, and the sound of it has you clenching around him hard, forcing a choked groan from his lips. “Fuck yeah, doll. Keep squeezin’ my cock like that. Perfect little slut, touch yourself for me.”

With shaky hands you begin to circle your own clit, lightly, the added stimulation threatening to unravel you right now, but you don’t want this to end. Not yet. It feels so good; whines and broken iterations of his name are all you feel capable of.

“Tell me how it feels.” There’s a desperate edge in his voice now, tight with desire and something else, something that sets you alight from head to toe.

“It feels so good! So warm, ‘m gonna—” It’s a borderline sob now, with you feeling as if you’re dangling on the edge of something dangerous. You’re almost scared of the blooming sparks in your belly, but you wretchedly race towards them anyways.

Touya’s thrusts grow a little frenzied, the wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you loud in your ears. He’s panting, his groans ragged, barely holding on himself.

“Tell me you love me.”

His voice is rough, but so impossibly tender—needy. Your mind short circuits at the sound, pleasure igniting in your belly and your hand reaches back to tangle in his hair as you fall apart.

Touya groans, one hand tight on your hip as you spasm around his cock, his other reaching around to replace yours, gently circling your clit to help you ride out your orgasm.

“Touya! I love you, Touya—oh, god!”

Touya stiffens and shudders as pleasure melts the base of his spine, zipping up along it, pressing his forehead to your shoulder as he spills inside you with a low whimper. “F-fuck—”

You both sag into the couch, chests heaving as you wind down from your respective highs. You squirm at the feeling of him softening in you before he grumbles something unintelligible and pulls you down onto your side with him.

His heart races against your back as he pushes a pillow into place—letting you use his arm as one yourself—and you wonder if he can feel the way yours is threatening to beat out of your chest.

He’s still pressed stubbornly close to you, the rough edge of his jeans pressing into the back of your thighs as he tries to stay buried in your pussy for as long as he can, but he still remains silent behind you, his breath hot on your neck.

“I love you, Touya.”

You say it again, softly this time. You want him to hear it when you’re not swimming in pleasure; you want him to hear just how much you mean it.

Touya hums, a low contented sound. “Always knew ya did.”

He sounds like he always does, snarky, but there’s a warmth in his voice that betrays his happiness.

“So what now?”

“Now we finish your damn movie, and then you need a shower. You’re kinda a mess right now,” he purrs devilishly in your ear, making you shiver even as a new bolt of heat strikes down your spine.

“And then?” You moan as he finally slips out of you, cheeks heating at the feel of his cum spilling out between your thighs.

Touya reaches a hand between your legs, lazily sliding his fingers through the mess. “And then I fuck you the way I really wanted to. I need to see the face you make when I make you cum. Hope you know I’m not usually this sweet ‘nd gentle, right? Think you can take it?”

“So you were just being nice to me?” you tease gently, pushing your ass back towards him. “Do you think I’m that delicate?”

“You better not be.”

“Try me.”

A low groan pulls from his throat and Touya bundles you off the couch. You scramble to your feet before you can fall, and turn to look at him.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, sapphire eyes dark and blown, desire etched into the hard lines on his face. His jeans are low on his hips and he tugs his shirt over his head and tosses it onto the couch.

Your eyes trace over the garden of ink on his torso, a swirling mass of flames and flowers that you’ve spent plenty of time admiring in the past. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, used to Touya lounging around the house in the warmer months in nothing but a pair of shorts, but with the darky, needy look in his eyes as he prowls towards you… It’s different now. He’s not stripping to get comfortable.

Anticipation thrills up your spine.

“Shower, now,” Touya rasps, herding you down the hallways towards your room. “And I better not catch you whinin’ cause I ain’t stoppin’ ‘til I’m through with you.”

Sunlight pours through the small gap of your bedroom blinds, but that’s not what wakes you. You’re far too used to it for that. You’re not sure what it is exactly that has you blinking awake.

Maybe it has something to do with the arm wrapped around your waist, or the thigh curled over your own. It could be the mild soreness between your legs, or possibly the stinging sensation of multiple bite marks across your body, courtesy of the perpetrator currently lightly snoring into your shoulder.

You gently turn over, detangling yourself from his limbs as quietly as possible. Touya has always been a somewhat heavy sleeper, so it’s not like it’s hard; but he really isn't a good morning person, so the last thing you want to do is wake him.

He mumbles something and flips onto his stomach, not waking for a moment.

You gaze at him for a moment, eyes soft. His hair is a mess, inky strands sprawled across the section of his face not buried in the pillow. After smoothing the wayward tresses covering his eyes, you sit up slowly, your gaze drawn to the ink twisting up his back. Your fingers trace the lines with quiet reverence.

It really is beautiful; you know it took Touya a long time to get it all done. The hemlock on his forearms drooping and smoking from the surrounding flame turn to vines as they spread out up his biceps, shoulders, and throat. You know on his front the vines swirl throughout a meadow of baby’s breath and gladioli down his collarbone and chest, but on his back they weave around a breathtaking lotus that’s shedding its petals one by one, the ones that fall gathering in a pile at the dip of his spine.

“Ya done starin’?”

You jump as he rolls onto his side to smirk at you, eyes droopy and tired. Touya chuckles at your expression and tugs you to his chest, giving a low groan as he tries to get comfortable again.

“Touya, wait—”

“Just go back to sleep, alright? It’s still fuckin’ early,” he mumbles gruffly, closing his eyes.

But your eyes are wide open, filled with panic. “I said wait, Touya!” you hiss desperately, struggling in his hold to sit back up.

You can feel the heat of mortification storming across your body as you maintain eye contact with the youngest Todoroki, who’s standing silently in the doorway of your bedroom.

His two-tone eyes are unreadable, but you know your younger brother well enough by now to know that the slight pull of his eyebrows means he’s shocked, that the miniscule purse of his lips means he’s upset.

Not that you can blame him. Walking in on your step-sister naked in bed with your older brother is not exactly prime model behavior.

“S-shoto,” you whisper, pitched and panicked. “I, uh…”

Oh, god, there’s no good way to explain this. You’re frozen, too petrified to even shield your body from his hard stare. You’re covered in bites and bruises, hair a mess and you can almost feel your relationship with Shoto shattering to dust when Touya groans dramatically and shoves his face in the pillow.

“Seriously, Shoto, your timing is fuckin’ awful. It’s too goddamn early for this. Try again later.”

Shoto glares at his brother and you can only gape at him as he drops his bag in the doorway and sits on the edge of your bed, right by your side. “You’re too impatient, nii-san. We agreed that we were going to wait.”

“Plans change.” Touya’s words are still muffled into the pillow, resiliently clinging to the notion that sleep is not yet lost. “Snooze ‘nd you lose.”

“Wait, what?”

Shoto doesn’t answer your question, a pout forming on his lips as he traces the teeth marks on your shoulder with a gentle touch. He doesn’t miss the slight wince of your expression; Touya had marked that same spot several times over last night.

“He was so rough with you,” Shoto says softly. “I would have been gentle.”

Touya snorts and raises his head. “Fuck off, I was gentle. …the first time.”

Shoto rolls his eyes. “Kinda hard to believe when she’s covered in teeth marks.”

You’re too busy reeling to take much notice of their bickering.

It’s Shoto; straight-laced, kind, upstanding Shoto. The Todoroki family’s shining star. Why isn’t he telling you how sick this is, and demanding to know what you were thinking crossing the bounds of family in such a forbidden manner?

Shoto notices your rising agitation and murmurs something soothing, trying to catch your attention by cradling your face in his palms. His eyebrows furrow gently at the sight of your quickly welling tears.

“We love you.” He says it simply, like that’s all there is to know.

Touya sits up swiftly since he obviously isn’t going to get to go back to sleep, and croons at you as he kisses the back of your neck, “Want us to prove it, doll?”

Shoto glares at his brother over your shoulder, unimpressed. “You already got to be with her.”

“And I’m gonna have her again. If you want her at all you’re gonna learn how to fuckin’ share, little brother.”

Why didn’t you see it all before?

Shoto has always clung to you. He was almost as desperate for your attention as Touya right from the start. He always insisted you help him study, even when you were certain he knew the material already; he would ask you to cook dinner with him on his nights.

When he graduated he insisted you visit him every weekend so you wouldn’t drift apart; it was him who suggested his father’s agency for your internship, where he debuted as a hero a few years ago. He even wrote your recommendation letter. He would always swing by in the morning with your coffee order, and without fail walked you to your car every night.

His love just wasn’t as obvious, at least not to you. His hugs were quick, like he didn’t want to be touched; his kisses might as well have been ghostlike, like he couldn’t handle being that close. You always thought he was just copying his big brother, but out of obligation, not desire.

“You love me?” You whisper the words looking at Shoto, but the question is for both of them.

"Of course—"

“Don’t be stupid, doll,” Touya mumbles, cutting him off and sucking another bruise into a miraculously unmarked portion of your neck. “‘Course we do.”

Shoto quietly brushes a stray tear from the apple of your cheeks, his lips following soon after. They’re warm, soft against your skin.

He smiles.

“You weren’t around when we were growing up, so it’s not obvious to you how much we’ve changed for the better since you joined our family. I can’t imagine the person I’d be right now if it weren’t for the way I feel about you.”

“Shoto…”

Shoto pulls back, his smile still warming his face, but smaller, calmer. “Especially Touya. I think if it weren’t for you, he would have left us a long time ago. Our father wasn’t…well, you brought him back.”

You stiffen in surprise, and Touya grumbles under his breath, trying to cover his embarrassment with coarseness. “Brat. Don’t go spoutin’ that shit now.”

Shoto makes a low huff of amusement before tugging you out of the eldest’s arms, ignoring Touya’s growl of protest.

“Let me have you to myself for just a minute,” Shoto breathes.

And then he’s kissing you. His touch is so sweet and he’s so warm that you can’t help but melt into him. No part of him is shying away from you now as he pushes himself between your legs, strong arms guiding you back down to the bed.

He’s unyielding as his tongue traces the seam of your lips, a heady desperation fueling him that you can’t help but get swept up in, parting your lips for him with a breathy moan. Shoto hums, his tongue meeting yours tentatively until your fingers curl into the collar of his shirt and tug him closer, and he crumbles. The kiss grows wet, fervent, your head swimming as he refuses to relent, content to taste you even as your legs curl around his waist, spelling your impatience.

“Calm down,” he mumbles against your lips, giving you a small break as he nips gently at your neck, his tongue soothing the bite marks decorating your throat. “There’s no need to rush any of this.”

“I don’t want to wait.” You gasp as his lips move lower, sucking and kissing at your collarbone, down the valley of your breasts, down your navel. Sparks follow the trail he’s making, down to where he stops, his eyes staring in disapproval of more bites scattered across the insides of your thighs.

His eyes are sharp as they look to you then Touya when your head falls back onto your pillows, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Is there no part of her you left untouched?”

Shoto glares at him, but Touya stares back, both smug and aroused.

“Nope.”

“You’re an animal.”

“She liked it.”

“Oh my god, stop talking!” you whine, forearms still covering your face. Excitement and arousal is making your body hot and you’re desperate for Shoto to keep going, but you know they could bicker forever. You’ve seen it plenty of times.

His mismatched eyes soften as they flash back to you, and he leans to pull your arms down. When he’s satisfied you’re watching him he continues, pressing his lips to the juncture where your thighs meet your mound.

Your chest feels tight with anticipation as his fingers grope at your thighs, kneading the plush flesh before sliding around to cup your ass. You moan when he inhales the scent of your growing arousal before his tongue peeks out to part your folds, flattening and dragging up through your slit. As he reaches the bundle of nerves at the top, he retreats, blowing on the nub lightly. Shoto’s head swims at the sound of your whine, so he does it again, desperate to hear you make that sound again.

Shoto’s fingers dig into the swell of your ass as he groans and pulls you closer, his tongue delving into your dripping cunt and lapping at your juices. You’re propped on your forearms, watching him with hazy eyes as he tastes you, your chest heaving at the assault of sensations.

He’s gentler than Touya, but that doesn’t make it any less intense. Your fingers grip the sheets tightly as he slurps at your cunt, his tongue blistering on your slit as he draws it up to flick over your swollen clit. You keen when he seals his lips around it and sucks, the touch hot and wet.

The sloppy sounds of him savoring you make your body ignite, your arousal spilling onto the sheets even though you haven’t cum. You’re desperate to, but Shoto’s movements are slow and deliberate—you can tell he’s nowhere near finished.

Teal and brown eyes are not quite closed but far-seeing, as if he’s lost in something—in you. The sight of it tightens something in you, has your shaking fingers reaching for him until they tangle in the crimson strands of his left side. Shoto’s groan devolves into a whine as you tug him closer, the vibrations of his noises making your eyes roll back. The younger Todoroki doesn’t resist your grasp, he leans into it, his tongue moving deeper, more desperate.

You make a noise of approval, your hips jumping when his fingers slip into you, prodding at your walls until your legs snap closed around his cheeks. He looks drunk cushioned between your thighs, the wet sounds and his moans melding together and making your mind melt.

“Fuckin’ shit,” Touya rasps beside you, on his knees now as his fingers form a tight ring around the head of his cock.

Your head turns to him, moaning when he shuffles towards you and presses the head of his cock against your lips.

“Open up, doll. You’re killin’ me, sound so good like that.”

With a soft whimper, you part your lips and he feeds his cock into your mouth with a relieved sigh. As he pushes deeper you drag your tongue over each metal bar on the underside of his cock, gentle with the balled ends, counting five as they push deeper.

Last night in the shower Touya finally let you have a look, grinning at your wide eyed expression as you carefully brushed your fingers along his Jacob's ladder. He’d hissed under his breath as you nudged the last set, the lorum at the base of his shaft.

“Easy, that one’s new.”

That’s what you’re reaching for now as his fingers thread through your hair, his groans rough as he pulls you deeper onto his cock, your tongue swirling at the furthermost metal beads. You preen as he curses at the wet touch of your tongue ghosting the edge of his balls.

Touya pulls out slowly before thrusting back into your mouth; you’re trying your best not to gag, swallowing rapidly as his head touches the back of your throat.

“That’s a good slut,” Touya hisses, holding your head flush to his pelvis. His cock throbs at the feel of your throat closing around him, his head tossing back. “Pay attention to me.”

You whimper around Touya’s cock as Shoto gives a harsh suck on your clit, uncharacteristic of his attentions so far, and your watery gaze flicks downward to see Shoto leveling a heated stare at his brother again.

Touya takes notice, a lopsided grin spreading across his face as leers back at his little brother. “What, don’t like me calling it like it is? She really is a good little whore for me, you know. You should’ve heard the way she screamed for me last night.”

You moan around his length as one of Touya’s hands closes around your neglected breasts, his fingers pulling at the hardened nubs to hear the desperate sounds you make as he rocks in and out of your mouth.

“You shouldn’t call her that,” Shoto mumbles, his eyes glazed as he watches you writhe under his brother’s touch. His chin and cheeks are smeared with your arousal. The beginning beads of sweat have his hair sticking to his forehead.

Touya shrugs.

“She seems fine with it. Hasn’t complained.” He eases out of your throat and watches you inhale sharply, taking in the much needed oxygen.

“Still.”

The younger one sits up and slides off the bed, a smile tugging at his lips at your whine of protest. Shoto pulls his shirt over his head, ruffling his hair and dropping it to your floor before popping the button of his jeans, hooking his thumbs in the waistband to push them off.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ve only just started,” Shoto breathes, returning to the bed with a new fire in his eyes.

You inhale shakily at the sight of him exposed, the rippling muscle a sharp contrast to Touya’s lean figure. The eldest is healthy, and in no way out of shape, but Shoto’s strict training regimen has his body in peak physical condition.

There’s clean white and pink scars littering his chest from his escapades as a hero, but it does nothing to take away from his beauty. As he steps closer to you, your eyes trail downward to his pelvis where his cock bobs between his legs looking painfully hard, the pretty pink tip drooling. Your eyes widen; it looks heavy, thick, unable to bear its own weight and leaning to the left. At the base is a well-kept patch of hair that matches his split coloration just like the rest of his body hair.

As if sensing your trepidation at his brother’s size, Touya narrows his eyes and rests back on his haunches so you can take a moment to get adjusted. Shoto pulls you to the edge of the bed, spreading your thighs and standing between them as his hungry stare roves over your glistening cunt before snapping up to meet your gaze. He slides his length between your dripping folds and takes in a harsh breath at the feel of you.

His voice is soft, a light tremble to it the only tell of his nerves. “Do you want me to use a—”

“No,” you mumble shyly, fighting the urge to cover your face as his cheeks pinken at your immediate denial. “I wanna feel you, Sho’.”

“Okay,” he returns, sounding dazed. “Okay.”

Shoto drags the thick head of his cock through your juices again, lubricating himself fully before pressing himself against your fluttering hole, completely focused on the way you respond as he eases himself into your warmth.

You moan loudly at the immediate stretch, head thrown back as he slowly enters you. His eyebrows furrow at your tight heat, and he groans lowly in his chest as he coaches himself internally not to just hilt himself in you.

A strangled sound works its way up both your throats as he drags his hips back and pushes in again, trying to work himself deeper.

“Sho,” you gasp, fingers digging into the sheets as he sinks another inch into you, your eyes screwing shut. He’s so thick you don’t understand it. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s overwhelming, fighting the urge to let your eyes roll back into your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” Shoto chokes out, gripping your thighs tightly to ground himself. “So tight, so perfect. Feels like you’re made for me.”

“Holy fuck.” The words come from Touya, and you barely register the slick sound as the eldest slowly works his fist over his cock. Sapphire eyes lock on to where your drooling cunt is struggling to accommodate even two thirds of his younger brother’s cock.

You can feel yourself getting more desperate, wanting to ground yourself to something, but there’s nothing to hold onto.

Touya eyes the way your chest heaves, goosebumps rising on his skin at the hiccuping mewls you keep making. With an amused huff, he drops his cock and shifts closer until he’s sitting at your side. Shoto glares at him as he gets closer gripping your thighs possessively, but the heat falls short, the feeling of your slick walls too much.

“Just keep going,” Touya mutters gruffly, staring down at your trembling figure as opposed to making eye contact with his little brother. “You should be doin’ this yourself, but as much as I like watchin’ her squirm, she likes it when I touch her.”

His slender fingers trace over your mound before his thumb presses into your throbbing clit.

“F-fuck!” you warble out as heat strikes low in your belly, and Shoto echoes you with a groan as your cunt flutters around him as if trying to suck him deeper.

“There’s that dirty mouth,” Touya coos, voice dripping with playful condescension. He rubs slow, soothing circles around your clit, his eyes almost predatory with hunger. “That feel better? Bet you’re soaking now. Want him to just shove it in you, hmm?”

“Y-yes, yes!” you whine, teary eyes flickering from Touya to Shoto, desperate, pleading. “Want more, Shoto, please. Deeper!”

Shoto shakes at the pure need in your tone, his thighs tensing as his cock throbs. “Shit, sweetheart. Are you sure?”

“Please!”

“You heard her.” Touya retracts his hand, sucking the traces of your arousal off his fingers as he retreats further onto the bed.

Shoto barely hears him, adjusting his grip so that he’s holding your hips as he firmly fucks himself deeper. The gape of your lips, the tears clinging to your lashes: that’s all he can see as he’s finally seated in your pussy. It feels like the heat of you is going to melt him. He groans as you wrap your thighs around his waist and leans down to capture your lips.

You’re taking him like it’s nothing now, your tits pressed against his chest as you arch into him, hips bucking into his as he fucks you slow. His kiss is hot, quick, desperate, but he has to fuck you slow or he’s going to lose it. His body tingles with pleasure as your moans spill into his throat, your nails raking down his back as you ground yourself.

Shoto’s mind swims as you mewl his name against his lips over and over. His head feels full of cotton as his thrusts begin to get a little sharper, jostling the bed. His grip on your hips tightens as he pulls you steadily back into each thrust, pupils blowing out at the way your cries get more desperate, your back arching as your walls clamp and spasm around him. There’s a gush of slick coating his pelvis and the tops of his thighs now, but Shoto doesn’t stop; his hands slip under your back, grasping you tightly as he pulls you up off the bed completely.

You sink deeper onto his cock with a high squeal, and Shoto cups your ass to hold you up a little, widening his stance so he can fuck into you steadily. You whimper at the overstimulation, your teeth finding his collarbone as Shoto mumbles breathlessly.

"A little more, sweetheart. Just a little more, you're doing so good."

Touya snorts. "Now who's an animal?"

Shoto whines and turns, sitting back onto the bed and laying back, raising your hips so he can watch his length pumping into you. Your release is shining between your thighs, everywhere really, sticking to his thighs and matting the red and white of his pubic hair.

When your moans cut off, Shoto looks up to see your lips pressed to Touya's. The elder brother has his fingers between your legs again, rubbing on your clit as he curls your fist around his cock, guiding your hand to stroke it with his own.

The tension in Shoto's gut stretches thin when he picks up Touya's low rasp, biting out between the gaps of his rough kisses.

"C'mon doll, squeeze him for me— You want a break, you gotta make him cum. You wanna make him cum, don't'cha?"

"Yeah, wanna feel him cum," you whimper, tearing your lips from Touya's to stare down at Shoto with pleading eyes. "Want your cum Sho', please."

"S-shit, sweetheart."

Shoto half sits up in his aim to reach for you, his finger’s curling around the back of your neck and pulling you back down with him as he licks into your mouth. His other arm wraps around your hips, holding you down onto him as he grinds his cock into you, moaning shamelessly down your throat at the way your walls are milking him.

“Oh fuck, oh shit—” Shoto breaks from your lips with a low cry, clutching you to his chest; white dots his vision as he gives in, his cock jerking as he unravels, several spurts of hot cum shooting deep into your pussy. “Oh god, you feel so good. You did so good.”

A jolt runs up his spine when Shoto realizes your hips are moving, grinding down on his slowly softening cock.

“So close,” you slur into his chest. “‘M so close, Sho’. ‘M right there.”

“Keep going, sweetheart,” Shoto breathes, trying not to moan at the jolt of overstimulation on his spent cock.

It’s sensitive, but it’s bearable, especially when it’s rewarded as your fluttering walls clamp down hard, your thighs quaking around his own. Your whine is loud even as it muffles into his shoulder, your nails digging into his chest as ride out your orgasm with little jerks of your hips. Shoto can barely comprehend the feeling swelling up inside him as you babble about how good his cock feels, how good he’s making you feel; amazement, pride, and no short amount of giddiness sits warm in his chest.

Shoto rubs a soothing palm up and down your back, mumbling sweet nothings as you relax into his chest, only to groan softly as your hips raise enough for his cock to slip out with a wet sound. His head pops up at the feel of something brushing between his legs, only to see Touya standing above you both, his hands on your hips.

Goosebumps rise on Shoto’s skin as he feels Touya’s hand brush over the tops of his thighs as his elder brother angles his cock towards your quivering, spent pussy.

You moan weakly, but don’t shy away from his touch.

“She looks so worn out, poor thing,” Touya coos, his voice filled with a sympathy that doesn’t match the wicked gleam in his eyes. “But this slutty pussy should be able to take more than this. Don't worry, doll. You'll get used to it soon."

#touya x reader #shoto x reader #bnha x reader #bnha smut #touya todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #tw.stepcest #yuli writes

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reidingandwriting · 5 months ago

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wrecked > keigo takami/hawks (mha)

word count: ~3k

pairing: sub!hawks/keigo takami x dom!reader

warnings: SMUT, fem!reader, lots of cursing, use of a sex toy, a few uses of ‘mommy’, hawks has some birdy traits, they’re so in love ugh

keigo regretted the decision to take you partying with him. not for anything you did, of course. you were… infinitely better than anything he could ever imagine having. and god damn did you look perfect tonight.

it was a heroes exclusive night at his and rumi’s favorite club, and due to your job, you were well-known within the hero community and keigo was able to bring you with him. and keigo swore that was one of the todoroki children- fuyumi?- with rumi tonight.

keigo wasn’t big on partying anymore, you and him both now preferring nights in together more than going out. and god help him, keigo could not wait to take you home tonight. you danced with fuyumi, laughing as the more reserved woman started to warm up. you were infectious- everyone seemed to liven up around you. you brought out the best in people. also brought out the worst thoughts in him.

“down, boy. your birdy instincts are kicking in,” rumi teased and keigo shot a glare at his best friend, who merely laughed. he couldn’t help himself. you looked fantastic. rumi had taken you shopping earlier today and he owed her for the rest of his life for that outfit.

your pants looked as if they had been painted on, the leather material hugging your figure perfectly. your top was barely more than a black lacy bra, and keigo’s personal favorite was the gold chain body harness you wore on top. it outlined your torso and keigo’s gaze kept getting caught by the shimmer. you knew it too, because every time you caught him staring, you’d smirk and continue to dance, each movement of your hips more tempting than the last.

fuyumi made her way to the bar a minute later, you having walked off to the bathroom and fuyumi shyly tucked herself into rumi’s side. he didn’t know how new this… relationship? was so he didn’t tease rumi (yet) and he set the glass down that he had been nursing.

“gonna go find my songbird,” keigo said as a way of dismissing himself, and keigo walked towards the dance floor, searching for you. you spotted him and waved excitedly, quickly weaving your way through the crowds and enveloped him in a tight hug.

“birdie! i missed you,” you peppered keigo’s cheek with kisses and started to travel down towards his jaw. “did you miss me?”

keigo’s hands moved from where they rested on your back to your waist, and be squeezed gently. “always miss you. you know that.” you giggled and keigo nuzzled his nose into your hair. “you look beautiful.”

“baby bird,” you whispered and keigo could practically see the shy smile on your face as you pressed a kiss behind his ear, the smile turning into a smirk when he shivered. “you look so handsome, it’s downright sinful.” you ran one hand down keigo’s chest, hand trailing down until it rested on his stomach. keigo’s grip on you tightened, cheeks reddening from the compliment and affection. he had worn a sheer button down today and he had considered staying home with you when he saw your reaction to the shirt for the first time.

you had begun to pull keigo towards the exit and keigo laughed when he noticed your not so subtle plan. “no goodbyes to rumi or fuyumi?”

“trust me, baby boy. i’ve been talking to fuyumi about you all night. i think they’ll get the memo.” your eyes had darkened and keigo calculated the distance in his head.

“would you kill me if i flew us home?” keigo asked and you leveled him with a look.

“if you don’t get us home the fastest way possible, i’ll make you watch as i fuck myself and go straight to bed after.” with that, keigo scooped you into his arms and was up in the air in mere seconds. the minutes it took him to get home felt like ages and the second he landed on his balcony, you were on him. your lips attached to his and keigo expertly made his way inside, feathers opening and closing doors as he kissed you back. you broke the kiss long enough to start taking his shirt off and keigo whined from the loss.

“want you, need you,” keigo whined and you pressed a quick kiss to his lips to satiate him.

“i got you, baby. i’ll take care of you. that what you want?” you asked and keigo nodded. “go ahead and get comfy. tonight? it’s all up to you, kei.”

keigo laid on his back, sending most of his feathers away. “just want you.” your smile warmed his heart and you made quick work of getting on the bed, straddling keigo.

keigo leaned up and you met him halfway, kissing him happily. you let keigo lead the kiss and you parted your lips, letting out a soft sigh as you and keigo explored each other’s mouths. keigo’s hands played with the hem of your top and you parted just enough for him to pull your top off. the cool air hit your chest, your nipples hardening and keigo’s eyes dilated. he looked at you, down at your chest, then back up again and you nodded.

keigo leaned forward and kissed down your neck, revelling in each noise that fell from your lips. one of your hands made itself at home in his hair, the other tracing up and down his back as he made his way down to your chest. he pressed a kiss to each of your breasts before he took one of your nipples into his mouth, and you threw your head back with a soft moan. your grip in his hair tightened, and keigo hummed against you and you whimpered. keigo’s hand caressed your other breast as he lapped at your nipple, sucking and carefully pulling at the nub with his teeth.

“fuck!” your hips rocked down against keigo’s and keigo moaned against you. he switched breasts, now taking the other nipple in his mouth and you rolled your hips against his slowly starting to harden clothed cock. “birdie, shit,” you whined. you moved your hands, starting to fumble with the button of his jeans.

“easy, dove, let me help.” keigo said once he pulled away and you pouted at the loss of his mouth. you unbuttoned his pants and keigo lifted his hips so you could pull them down and drop them somewhere on the ground. keigo helped you pull your own pants off and you kicked them off to the ground.

“will never get over how pretty you are, keigo,” you brought one of your hands to cup keigo’s cheek, the other hand brushing his wing lightly. keigo’s cheeks burned red and you leaned down to kiss him again, keigo’s back meeting the mattress and you slowly ground down against keigo, drawing out moans from the both of you.

keigo couldn’t keep his hands still, going from your chest down to your ass, and he squeezed firmly. “can i take these off?”

“please,” you whined. moments later, you both had been fully stripped and you knelt between keigo’s legs. you ran your hands up and down keigo’s thighs and looked up at him through your lashes. “what do you want first, pretty boy?”

“mouth, please. just need to feel you,” keigo was close to begging and you nodded, kissing down his stomach. each kiss inched closer and closer to where he wanted you and while you were letting him make choices, you still had the control and keigo loved it.

you licked a stripe up the underside of keigo’s cock and he moaned, one hand gripping the sheets and the other gripping your hair. you lapped at keigo’s tip before taking his length into your mouth, and the soft moan you let out caused keigo’s cock to twitch. you looked up at keigo with half lidded eyes and keigo’s grip on your hair tightened.

“fuck, dove, feels so good. so good to me,” keigo babbled as you bobbed your head up and down, nose hitting his pelvis as you took all of him into your mouth. “shit!” keigo’s hips started to buck as your hand cupped his balls, needy whines slipping from his lips as you lightly twisted your hand. keigo’s eyes rolled back in his head and his back arched off the bed. “close, ‘m close,” keigo panted and you picked up your pace, keigo’s hips bucking and his breaths coming faster. “cumming, shit, mommy!” keigo cried out and his cock twitched once, twice more, before he came down your throat. you swallowed before you pulled back and immediately started to run your hands over keigo’s torso, grounding and checking on him.

“did so good, songbird. my good boy, love you so much,” you praised and keigo reached up to pull you closer to him. you huffed out a laugh and pressed a few chaste kisses to his lips. “you up for more?”

“need it, need more. need you,” keigo said and you nodded.

“tell me how you want me, baby bird. want toys or just me?” you repositioned yourself, moving to sit beside keigo, and you lazily started to pump his cock.

“can- can we try something new?” you nodded. keigo rolled over, reaching to the nightstand and opened the drawer. he pulled out a bottle of lube and a new toy you hadn’t seen yet, some type of plug. “i, uh, want to use this while you ride me.”

keigo looked anywhere but your face and you leaned forward, gently lifting his chin so he looked at you. “of course, kei. get comfy for me, ‘kay?” you kissed keigo, short and sweet, before you broke the kiss. you helped keigo prop up some pillows under his hips, your touches gentle and keigo preened under the attention you were giving him.

you always took such good care of him, it was disorienting. he had slowly gotten used to it, but he still couldn’t believe he was treated so gently by you. so kindly. even when he asked you to be rough with him, he could feel how deeply you cared behind your movements. it was that care that let keigo relax in this moment, legs spread and exposed as you knelt between his legs.

keigo briefly tensed as your lube covered finger prodded at his hole, which turned into a soft moan as you pushed in. keigo whined your name and you rubbed at his hip, soothing him. you worked your finger in slowly, whimpers leaving his lips as he adjusted. “another?”

“please,” keigo nodded and you pulled your finger out, shushing him when he whined, and pushed in a second. you moved a bit faster this time, pumping your fingers at a steady pace and as keigo’s moans got needier, you added a third. you stretched your fingers, pumping faster and you smirked when a high keening cry escaped keigo.

“did i hit something, baby?” you taunted, just barely brushing that bundle of nerves again. keigo’s blushed trailed down his cheeks to his neck, and you barely resisted the urge to litter his neck with more hickeys. you reached over and grabbed the plug, pulling out your fingers and quickly replaced them with the plug. you pushed the curved end of the plug in snugly before you studied the base, curiously switching it on to its lowest level.

“fuck!” keigo’s curse was cut off by a moan, cock twitching as the device buzzed inside him.

“now, we can play this one of two ways.” you grasped the handle of the plug, pushing it deeper and taking pleasure in the way keigo’s hips bucked as he gripped the sheets. “we can see how long you can hold out without cumming. or, i can see how many orgasms i can draw out from you. i think i can get at least two more from you.” you pushed and pulled at the plug’s base, and keigo let out a wanton moan as you held the plug firmly against his prostate. “which do you want, baby boy?”

“the s-second,” keigo panted. “just wanna feel you, please, being so good for you. right, mommy? your good boy?”

“the best there is,” you smiled as you crawled over to keigo, straddling him. one of your hands grasped keigo’s cock, the other splayed out across his chest. you lined up his length with your entrance, and you moaned as you sunk down, the pleasure of the stretch outweighing the sting, and you threw your head back. “fuck, baby, fit me so well. made for your cock, all mine, isn’t it?” you trailed your nails down his chest, your spare hand tweaking one of his nipples and the moan that keigo let out was downright pornographic.

“yours, all yours, only you. just for you,” keigo babbled. you rolled your hips, grinding down against keigo’s pelvis as you bottomed out.

“you’ve ruined me, birdie. no one makes me feel as good as you,” keigo’s eyes dilated from your praise, a possessive clicking noise leaving him. “oh, you liked that. liked hearing how i’m all yours, didn’t you?” you bounced on keigo’s cock, moving steadily, grabbing his wrists and pinning them above his head. the angle caused keigo’s cock to brush against your g-spot, and you continued to fuck yourself on keigo’s cock. “fuck, keigo. absolutely wrecked me,” your movements started getting sloppier and keigo desperately bucked his hips up, trying to get more friction. wanting, needing more of you.

“close!” his movements caused the plug to shift deeper and keigo’s feet dig into the mattress, practically humping the pillows under him.

“that’s it, baby. fill me up, make me yours.” keigo lost the rest of his control and he thrusted his hips up wildly, chasing his own orgasm. his instincts were going wild, your voice echoing through his mind. you were his, his his his. keigo pulled you down by the back of your head, latching onto your neck and sharply biting, and your finishing cry filled the room. keigo barely recognized his own moans as his hips began to falter in their movements, his only thought being of marking you, making you his.

keigo came with a flurry of chirps, warbles, and cries, some of his discarded feathers flying around the room as he came down from his high. you dropped your head against keigo’s shoulder, panting as you pressed open mouthed kisses to his neck.

“can i clean you up, mommy?” keigo looked at you with a hazy gaze and you smiled as you brushed some of his hair back.

“clean me up good and i’ll get you off however you want, baby. want me to turn it off?” you rubbed keigo’s hip and he nodded, shifting so you could access it easier and sighed with relief when the buzzing stopped. “good boy,” you cooed, pressing one more kiss to his lips before you rolled over. you propped yourself up against the headboard, slowly letting your legs spread and smirked at the way keigo’s gaze narrowed in on your cunt. “well? get to it, songbird.”

keigo positioned himself between your legs, holding your hips as he leaned in. keigo looked up at you through half lidded eyes, the sight making you clench around the air, and keigo licked a fat stripe, eyes fluttering shut. you cursed as you grasped his hair, your noises only encouraging keigo and his cock started to twitch in interest again.

keigo lapped at your pussy like he wouldn’t rather be anywhere else, and you whimpered as he nuzzled his nose against your clit. you dug your heels into his back, urging him closer and who was keigo to deny you? keigo nudged your legs open further and you swear you saw stars when keigo plunged his tongue in. keigo moaned deeply against you, the vibrations rattling you to your core and you bucked your hips, whining soft “please, birdie” and “god, love your mouth” as you gripped his hair.

keigo was pussydrunk and he lapped at your cunt like a man starved, suckling and flicking his tongue like he was born for it. your moans and whines egged him on, and you cried out his name when his thumb started to rub your clit.

“kei, fuck! keep, keep going. ‘m close,” your words turned breathy and high pitched moans fell from your lips, and keigo picked up the pace, pushing a finger into you and beginning to pump it quickly. your thighs tightened around his face, holding him in place as your hips bucked wildly, grinding against his mouth as you came with a loud cry. keigo eased his finger out once you stilled, pressing kisses to your inner thigh as you slowly released him.

“come ‘ere, pretty bird,” you gently tugged at the golden locks and keigo happily climbed up, cupping your face in his hands as he kissed you. “love you so much.” you whispered against his lips and keigo whined as he pulled back. a fond smile graced his features, and you could practically see the hearts in his eyes. keigo rolled onto his back and pulled you on top of him, and you curled up, content.

“love you more than anything, dove.” keigo ran his hand up and down your back and you leaned into his touch, much like a cat getting petted. “shower?”

“please, you’re so sweaty.” your voice turned teasing and keigo gasped in mock offense.

“you aren’t exactly the picture of cleanliness either.” keigo kissed your temple before he sat up with a wince. “fuck, plug.” keigo shifted to pull the plug out and set it aside. “now, i believe i was promised another orgasm?” keigo stood, you in his arms and you yelped as you clung to him.

“whatever you want, pretty boy.” you laughed as you rested against his chest. “anything for you.”

#fem!reader #hawks x you #hawks x reader #bnha hawks #bnha keigo #keigo takami #keigo x y/n #keigo x reader #sub!hawks #sub!keigo #dom!reader #mha fic #mha smut #hawks smut

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ms0milk · 2 months ago

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𝟏𝟕 | 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐥𝐥 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 & 𝐭𝐰𝐨.)

ー✧ prince!bakugou x royal guard!reader

"He does not grab you by the collar or threaten you with his teeth and when you grasp his hand to steady yourself from an awkward step, he is the boy who makes magic for you in the dark."

slight cw panic sequence. (I) reader agonizes after yesterday's kiss and of course the ball is today. blue mages haunt you, red wing captains stalk you, the wrong prince finds your hiding place (II) bkg will not let you embarrass yourself alone. ballgowns, blue fire, champagne, pearls, a song from home, relief and peruro. dance my love, or die. 7.7k

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Captain Hawks has one job and you’ve made it so much more difficult than necessary. He’s had one job for fifteen years. Red feathers brick out southern wind from the hiding place he’s made above your window and he glares through gusts and goggles to watch you finally return to Prince Touya’s room. You crumple in a pile at the foot of the bed when the door clicks closed. You’re rotting. Sulking. The Alderan dragon everyone’s so worried about, you who his king assigned him to watch– you, the girl with wet eyes and hair full of hay.

You kissed your prince last night. He knows the feeling.

Hawks takes a sip of coffee and grips the barrel of his mug to keep ocean wind from throwing it off the roof. The king is right to worry about you. You have spent one week wandering palace grounds, greenhouses, pantries, walkways and stables and never once guarding your prince. Weird bird, are you the chicken or the egg? Did you stop guarding Katsuki because you’re the spy Enji thinks or because not even the red wing captain could follow you undetected? Because you know better than to keep close to your charge when something is stalking? Hawks winces in a particularly strong breeze. It’s the latter.

Two eyes burn suddenly from your gloom to the parapet fifty meters outside your window where the captain spills his coffee in a rush to stay out of sight. What he wouldn’t give to be warming a bed back in town but instead Hawks rolls his eyes, flat on his wings behind a gable wall. You rise and jerk your curtains closed, glare like black fire.

Princess Fuyumi runs clear through a ten foot portrait propped up in the hallway to be dusted. She’s cold, she’s sick of sending maids to find you and the ball is today. Master Aizawa is securing perimeters somewhere too far away to be helpful, Uraraka’s finalizing guest lists, and Bakugou is getting stitches because he’s good for nothing else. The princess shakes paint flecks from her hair. She rips canvas from her belt and throws the standing frame to the ground.

Kirishima has never dressed for a ball like this before because parties in Aldera usually require armor. What do you do at a Ball if not wrestle? Do Takobans dance Peruro? Sero and Kaminari assure him he doesn’t look silly in white. Todoroki sits outside beside the sea. Deku holds his hand tight to keep him from jumping in.

In the king’s rear guard, Shinsou nurses a broken finger. Enji derives gross entertainment from screaming at soldiers all dressed in blue and it smells like the king came home for this party. The queen cannot be found. Few people think to look for you. No one minds blue fire.

An already tedious afternoon dissolved when a boy crossed your path on turret stairs, your hiding place from prying eyes. You didn’t have the heart to bark when he stumbled through Excuse mes and My Ladys. The quiet wasn’t helping. You could trust Bakugou with his champion for a day but your prince’s hands still danced on your skin the longer you let thoughts linger.

The little footman continued, melting, as you raised your head from between your knees. He carried a box under his arm and waited for your permission to move in the tight stairwell, “From Princess Fuyumi.”

Inside the box under the arm of the boy on the spire stairs was a dress.

You spent last night between pickle barrels in the distillery and hid in the morning where you knew your prince wouldn’t think to find you, curled in the deepest sconce of the north wing watching staff fly past. Today is the ball. It’s why the princess ordered you a dress and it’s why you’re pulling gold lace through your fingers by candlelight. Aizawa’s training pit echos pretty like the sea when it’s empty and the uniform room has a mirror. It’s a dark little annex off the main ring without those Takoban windows Captain Hawks loves so much.

All week, you growl through the effort of fastening garters to a stocking. Another. All week he has followed you and all week you kept his attention off your prince. If Bakugou had just stayed away, if he’d just hated you properly. You lean back to inspect neatly laced boots– Alderan dancing knots– boots so delicate they couldn’t be made for actual dancing. What will he wear tonight? You force a hand through wild braids.

Soldiers can fight armed or barefisted, fire cannons and crossbows, deliver first aid, hunt, guard, salute. You would be the head of your kingdom’s army and so you must know one thousand more important things, like how to string a corset and when to use forks in a line on pretty tables. Silk the color of blood gathers all the heat of your chest and keeps it close. Does the heir of Aldera waltz Takoban? You take the buttons at the ends of your sleeves in your teeth to fasten them closed. What will he look like in their blue costumes dancing with their pretty ladies? Can you remember how to count rhythm in threes? Can you even look at him?

More important than a soldier, court mages, even more important than a champion, you are trained as Head of Royal Guards. You are poison tester, navigator, weaponmaster and seaman, you judge the safety of the room by the shoes of its hosts and you wear fine clothes at fine parties to accompany your masters like a trophy. A prized hunting dog. You will be beautiful for one night and you can no longer avoid your job; assassins love to hide at parties.

“Steady,” you whisper to the gods.

It’s been a few years but you know how to wear these clothes and you know how best to move, and you wince when the sheath of a dagger chills the skin under your ribcage where it hides. You sparkle unsettlingly in the gown and grunt through the effort of untucking stubborn skirts from hilts and scabbards. Wielding a candle to examine yourself more closely in the mirror, you judge the shapes impractical clothes make when they’re meant to fit only you. Pleats of red fall over themselves from your waist to your ankles and in your reflection a bit of fire stirs, because in a cold kingdom this gift was made of love.

You are blood red tonight from neck to heel. Gold tassels align themselves like military badges across your shoulders and the sleeves of the gown bleed to lace at your wrist where two green buttons wink. You can’t help staring. Jeanist’s dragontooth gleams on your breast.

This is an overstuffed week. Hedonistic, anxious like a blood clot heart attack. You are stalked, you are tested and attacked, you’ve pretended not to feel, you did half your best, you snacked instead of training and sat in pleasant company you love, why wouldn’t a ball punctuate this disaster? Something about preparing for war in the dark makes this bearable. Something about fastening a knife to your thigh keeps you from thinking about Bakugou Katsuki and the formalities waiting for you upstairs. Someone is watching you.

A man clears his throat outside the doorway, careful not to stand where you might see him but you are too focused to be caught by surprise. “What do you want?”

“Apologies, Captain.”

At that, air falls loose from your nostrils. Your lips don’t dare part to make a sound. Your self-important posture doesn’t have time to settle before red pleats freeze and the candle cracks like a knuckle in your palm because the horror of this hadn’t occurred to you. That voice will never leave.

“Y/n?” the flame mage murmurs again.

Why would Aldera want you back? Playing princess instead of posting sentinel. Knowing you’re spied upon and letting Bakugou find you, day after day, letting him help you house spiders, letting him spar, letting him smile, letting him sit beside you– you knew what was watching you– something worse than flying captains. It’s why this horrible place remains horrible and the cold like frost can never be shaken off the back of your neck. It’s why the queen hides in stables and why your blood runs black in the instant you understand yourself through your reflection.

Your two shoulders fly through the doorway first so that when the blue mage attacks your legs will be spared enough to carry you upstairs. You can outrun him, you can outrun anyone. You should have paid more attention to ball preparations this month instead of languishing in your prince’s backwards attention. You should have killed yourself to kill him before his body hit the water. Why wouldn’t an assassin slip through the cracks of your distraction? And why wouldn’t it be him? Unkillable.

The candles inside the changing room are doused and shattered so that you are the only possible flammable thing in this dusty arena and you pull the knife from your hip as you soar over the threshold.

It would have flown hard when you released it– might have even killed a ghost– if you hadn’t seized up as the figure came into view. White hair, tall with sunken eyes, only slightly shorter than his father. You right yourself to land on your new dancing boots, and their heels wail two lines through the sand at the edge of the arena.

Prince Natsuo doesn’t have the energy to be surprised by you. He is not fazed by your drawn weapon and doesn’t flinch in the dark, but he remembers your name, “Captain Y/n?”

Like a cat your eyes go wide and your knife clatters to the floor. Half-fresh braids fall over your shoulders in a deep and rigid bow. Your fists bunch the soft material at your hips and you consider dropping to your knees in the silence and dust of the sparring pit so far away from any party he should be attending. Your heart beats to a new fear, “Highness,” you stammer to the ground, “I–”

“Do you dance, Captain?”

You do, and you quirk an eyebrow at the floor. It’s becoming increasingly clear, for how threatening this country is, that its eldest princess actually took all the reason at birth. Swallowed it from the room with her first cry and left kings and countrymen to stumble on their words, for even when you are not threatening him at knifepoint there’s a dread just behind the prince’s every word. Your Alderan senses are dulling in this kingdom. Your ghost never sounded so nervous. “I’m sorry, sir,” you lift only your head from the stiff bow, “I don’t understand.”

Prince Natsuo’s suit is blue trimmed silver. He is white trousers and shining bells, military honors, rope tassels, broad like his father, beautiful like his mother and dressed like a blue glass bottle. He’s never spoken to you and seems to have trouble even looking at you now, like a rabbit the dog runs past in a hunt.

You soften, “May I escort you to the party, sir? You’ve made a wrong turn,” rising fully as the prince gathers his thoughts and keeps well away from you– no. Less away from you and more just to himself. Like pouring a cup just full enough to tease the tension at the rim, Prince Natsuo is bursting with nothing to say.

All week you hid from spies and all week Alderans made it their job to find you, to be near you. Today you hide from just one man and suddenly every person in the cold kingdom knows exactly where you are. Winged captains weather the winds to watch you and squire boys can retrieve you from tall towers. Maids predict which hidden paths you’ll take from the kitchens to ask if you’ll need a bath– intercepting you without issue or sweat. Are you that predictable? Unsubtle? Obvious and lacking, or does horrible Takoba deserve a little more credit? Her skittish prince can track you down to the darkest corner of his castle like it's only natural to hide from festivities instead of attending them.

“Please excuse my being started.”

“It’s your job,” he musters just as you scoop up your blade and tip it back into its sheath amongst skirt folds. “Thank you– for your job.” He’s fidgeting, not murderous, and his voice no longer sounds like a monster. The prince scratches gently at a bauble on his chest as you peer through the dark, “I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry, Bakugou’s heartbroken voice parrots. Don’t cry. He pleads with his hands on your cheeks. You can’t change what you’ve done. Bakugou Katsuki can haunt you til death, but you don’t get to hide from him.

“Your Royal Highness, it would be my pleasure to escort you upstairs.” You square yourself to the blue bottle prince, “Humble Y/n, apprentice to the Captain of Her Alderan Majesty’s Royal Guard. My apologies. You had to come all this way just for a proper introduction.” And extend your hand to him, a polite smile on your lips. To death then. You’ve survived worse than a party.

Natsuo does not take your hand. He pops something off of his chest, drops the something in your hand and straightens his suit jacket, content with or oblivious to the fact that his sister inherited all his good social reason. You eye him first and then study the metal on your palm that glints in dim moonlight– candlelight– and tense as the room’s circle of sconces suddenly blink to life one by one.

Of the fifty candles in the training room ring, the first five from the entrance miraculously catch bright warm fire. Six, then the seventh, one by one around the edge of the room. Natsuo rushes to pat out your panic, “Magic candles.”

“Magic candles,” you repeat, which makes much more sense than a drowned magician. You exist at the edge of complete catastrophe, always prepared to fight that man who was too bored to kill you, but magic candles make sense. When have you ever seen a servant in this cold place spend their time lighting candles?

“And a medal,” Natsuo continues. You follow his line of sight to the object in your hand. It’s silver. It fits right in the cleft of your palm. The inscription around the edge is in a language you don’t know but what is clearly the moon sits in the center. A comet streaks across it and together they make the emblem of the House of Todoroki. “The medal of honor.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“It’s yours.”

“It certainly is not,” you say, the air sort of floating from you instead of being pushed out by your voice. Eleven, twelve candles, a quarter of the room is lit. The badge warms in your fingers but you no longer look at it and extend your hand back to the prince in a gown that already makes you too ridiculous to breathe. He shakes his head and you push your open palm a little farther like a plea.

“I’ve seen you. I heard about…my father’s arrival in your training exercise and I, I didn’t, I don’t think my sister’s champions would have been fast enough to stop him if you hadn’t. You kept my mother from the mad magician and I doubt anyone has thanked you and I, I just– my father wouldn’t allow honors on your gown and mine is more than I deserve.” He straightens his jacket again and continues to struggle with eye contact. Twenty-two, twenty-four, twenty-seven candles come alive in the cold arena and the ring of light reaches the pair of you at the far end. “It’s much less than you’re owed.”

Prince Natsuo bows to you deeply and turns so quickly that arena-sand clouds his feet. He does not accept your escort and he doesn’t turn around. He only strides across the room, thirty-three candles, and out the dark but open doors. It’s easy to imagine him judging his own performance just where you can’t see him; he exudes the nervous energy of someone who cringes when they turn your back to you. You’re smiling before you realize. Fourty.

It’s slightly warmer than you’ve felt all month, in clinging red skirts and candlelight. Aldera is always bustling so Takoba is loney in comparison, but maybe there is comfort where you have never looked before. Comfort in red gowns. Comfort in sweaters beside the sea, comfort in silver soldiers and a training room where you are not their commander. That thought is a shock and you clutch the comet in your hand at the edge of the room. Forty-five.

Aizawa’s training pit warms by candlelight under its glass ceiling. Oppressively tall and so much like drowning, the stars blink down at you from their thrones like dappled moonlight on waves. You fasten the comet pin to your bodice with eyes tilted to the sky. Your first night here the sky was the only one who knew you. You smooth your hands up your hips and rest both palms at your waist where Bakugou held you, bleeding, poisoned, his forehead slipping off your shoulders with sweat and the lurches of the horse. A ten minute ride from the edge of the forest to the city gates, it was only the sky watching such desperation. There was comfort in that, under the threat of death. Comfort in your loss of rank here, in anonymity.

Rescued from a crowd, rescued from punishment, rescued from the sea, from cliffs, from sickness, from solitude. Saved by magic, saved by strength, by yourself and by your prince, over and over again in this wet kingdom.

There is comfort in teaching strangers to fear you and you blink through the memory of your cherrywood halberd soaring through a dinner party. The loss of its weight at your back makes you ache and your ears start to itch as the rest of the night replays itself. Forty-seven. Bakugou pressed close between your legs at the lip of a table. His thumbs smoothing your cheeks over like parchment and his cheeks flashing red at a realization– at everything you now realize he was trying to say, to show you. You’re grateful for the privacy of the stars again so that no one can ask why you smile in an empty room.

Forty-eight. Dying for a person is so much worse than dying for a cause. You thought it might be the end when the blue flammed mage forced his hand around your mouth or when a garden screamed in ashes under his boot. When he– he took you by the shoulder and branded the shape of his palm to your flesh, when your arm was relieved of its socket– everything, all of it came so much easier than the moment your prince stepped forward to face him. Easier than Bakugou collapsing in a burning clearing, easier than counting the decline of his heartbeat through the clothes on your back, easier, so much easier than retching up seawater together on the sand.

Prince Bakugou is agonizing. Forty-nine, he’s upstairs, gilded, waiting for you.

You shake your head like unnecessary thoughts might come loose with the movement. For one night your worry can be in not staring after your charge– not tasting his lips when you wet yours at the edge of the party– and not in hallucinations of murderous mages. A comet and a dragontooth remind you of the weight of a heart. The last candle around the glowing arena beats to life beside the first and it is time for a ball.

You would have smoothed your skirts over the daggers hidden among them. You would have checked your hair again in the mirror and tested the fit of your boots with a few secret skips. You’d have imagined the warmth of Bakugou’s hands and his magic, to ease the ache of watching pretty blue ladies waiting to dance with the barbarous and beautiful prince. You would have attended and served quietly, you would have dreamed of home if the flame in that last pretty candle wasn’t flickering in a clear and lonely shade of blue.

Fifty.

“Find cover!” you hiss at the squire who collapses to the floor rather than get knocked down the stairs in your charge, “Douse the rugs!”

You call over your shoulder and hurdle the staircase railing rather than waste time sprinting to the bottom. If all of your training boiled down to a single skill, if there was only one chance, one thing you could be trusted to do in the blink of an eye it was arming yourself.

A shortsword shines in your fist as you sprint, its wall hooks worse for your wear after being ripped from the armory on your warpath. The scabbard is fastened sloppily to your left hip. Cruel images of half-scorched bodies, croaking victims that need both your hands to carry them to safety, your prince– they necessitate the holster which whips your thigh as you tear through a quiet castle. Quiet, so quiet, too quiet for a ball, idiot, you should have known. Every single light in the castle blinks to life in the very last lilacs of sunset, and every single one of them quivers with blue fire.

Seed-sized wall carvings flow through their forms, animated by your speed. Stone does not creak when you step over it, hardly any servants linger in empty hallways and the thought that one squire boy will be the firefighting force for the whole castle is horror compounded by horror. “Captain Hawks!” You bellow with the last bit of air between strides.

He’s watching you, he didn’t abandon his assignment for a party. You burst from servants’ paths onto the exact blue rugs you knew the stairs would lead to; your Alderan senses might be dulling but this castle is no longer a maze. Takoban cluelessness can take over all it wants. All it needs to do is get you to the ballroom in this stupid fucking dress. One by one, sconces yawn in innocent blues and burn so hot and so quickly that wax weeps to the floor.

A window in the line takes your pommel to its pane as you retch the sword’s hilt through the glass and shout, “Hawks!” louder, between flying shards, into the night, “Fire!”

Candles instead of your dress, a candle instead of your flesh. He could be anywhere, nearby, outside, straddling corpses, you don’t know the rules his magic follows and every step you take without bursting into flames is a second you can’t waste. Your prince will fight to the death, you cannot let him. Your prince will die for his friends, you can’t bear to lose a single one. Send me instead, you beg. Me, wait for me.

You soar down two flights of twisted stairs and lurch at a tight corner before colliding with a laundryman and his blue candlestick. “Run,” you seeth without stopping, vaulting over both the man and portrait strewn across the floor beside him, ripped at the center and trailing flecks of paint. The last turn is towards the right leg of the grand staircase, entryway and ballroom dead in your sights. Red wings don’t appear and so you hook your hips, and your gown with it, over the lip of the banister.

Hardly a breath escapes the closed ballroom doors. Why are there always too few guards here? What ball makes no noise? What kind of monster could kill a room of people without making a sound? There are clicks, you panic as the banister ends and dismount the slide into a sprint. There is the bone chilling image of the blue mage clicking over corpses with the heels of his tall black boots– the body of your prince lying charred and bloodless before he could even let loose a spark.

Your dancing boots make the loudest sound in the entire palace as you run your legs harder, to carry you farther, until finally your hands are flat on the ballroom doors and your biceps scream under orders. The elven silver budges only slightly. There should be footmen outside to let guests in and the anxiety of their absence gives you an unnatural strength, enough to force one gilded door open a crack and slip into the destruction with your weapon raised.

Find him, find him, find Bakugou first, soft sunny hair and pomegranate eyes, the boy who barks laughter, he who wields the magic of old gods, your heart, find your prince, get him home.

Silver foot bolts shriek over marble as you force your way inside. You are a cacophony always. You are blood splattered across the edge of the dancefloor when you burst into the party.

“Highness!” You shout into the blue before realizing the silence of the ballroom doesn’t come from death. One thousand pearls startle immediately at the beast and her raised sword. Gowns of lace, suits of glass, feathers, freckles, masks and tiny shoes, bells, fans, crystal flutes of pink champagne, and not a single person speaking over a hush. Two hundred eyes watch the Alderan dog prepare to fire again into a party.

Balls in Aldera breathe life to the city. Any comfort you felt for Takoba dies with your entrance. Waiters roll between guests with trays of cake and wine, and the winter floral decorations must have cost a fortune for petals to be sewed and draped and weeping from the walls because this certainly was meant to be a ball. Your fingers ache for the weight of your halberd for the first time since you lost it in the sea.

There is no mage when your heckles fall. No mage when your shoulders droop and your sword with it, not when you search the ballroom for your Alderan sun, not a single shock of white hair taunting from the windows. Every candle in every abra, every chandelier, sconce, cup, spike, or lamp, is a melancholy flickering blue above the sea of silent guests.

Your weapon falls slack. You exhale as the swordpoint chips the floor.

The queen sits on her throne beyond leagues of distracted dancers and servers and bards, with her hands folded and her husband beside her tense, hunched, and licked by fire where you startled him out of his seat. The great ballroom window blinks with its audience of stars. Just outside and over the cliffs, the maws of the sea applaud.

You jolt, as do the guests closest to you, at the sound of metal crush but it is only Uraraka in her uniform, catching the tray of a server who panicked at the sight of you. Shinsou’s hair isn’t hard to pick out from his post beside a waitstaff door and he thins his lips instead of speaking. No one speaks. There is no laughter, there is a single violin playing from a fifteen piece band– did you scare the trumpets too?– weeping a waltz for the dancers who crane away from their partners to watch what you might do. Their every gown is white, blue, green– silver like sea foam. Their hair obeys them and folds into smooth shapes at the tops of their heads so that their noble throats can be struck sick by the air of a room above the sea. You are the only foul red thing here.

The flame of worry collapses in your chest along with your heart. Quietly, blue fire watches back without laying a finger on anyone.

Oh.

“Y/n?”

There you are.

The ring of dancers at the center of the room curl around in their timid waltz, revealing new faces from the back of the crowd. Kirishima in a fit white suit, too focused on not crushing his Takoban partner to even realize you’ve arrived and then Mina, full of worry with her hands in Fuyumi’s and both perfectly placed in the seaside painting with their layered dresses of white. She makes to break away from the current, to rescue you, but her prince beats her to it.

The prince of Aldera climbs trees in the summer to reach the best apples. He likes to bathe at night. He is slightly shorter than his mother in her favorite boots and it bothers him, but never enough to say anything. His fingertips sparked when he kissed you.

He is cloaked in red. An abandoned partner jingles angrily as he drifts through the tides and calling your name is the easiest thing in the world, “Y/n.” He glows. You have hidden from this all day, and tonight his war cape arcs sanguine circles around him.

The Sun approaches, he glides to you like picking up a stray is part of this dance. He takes up your swordhand in his, weapon clattering to the polished floor and with a magic-heavy hand at your waist the scabbard belt falls away. Hair pushed straight back and two red earrings dangling, Bakugou rolls his eyes, “It’s a dogshit party,” and a few pieces of hair fall over a stitched gash on his cheek, “but I doubt a swordfight will fix it.”

You don’t understand and you don’t try to speak through volley after volley of embarrassment.

“Won’t,” he rumbles, “won’t let you look crazy alone.” Prince Bakugou Katsuki steadies his palm just behind your waist and draws you onto the dancefloor, hand in hand. He is more than beautiful. Polished boots, white suit and golden embroidery– each button in his vest is flanked by a small Alderan sun. Dragons prowl along the hem. His red cape you thought lost, rocks you with homesick.

“Highness,” he steps to a rhythm in fours, heel toe, toe, toe heel forward into the fold of your dress to guide you back into the stream of dancers. “I didn’t– I–” Your feet barely make the proper shapes to keep up for your Alderan heart is a grease fire not a hearth. Bakugou holds his head high to the side with the posture of a king. His pupils occupy their lowest corners so he never need take his eyes off of you.

You, his war criminal.

“Sir,” you manage and wince when you dare a peek past his shoulders towards onlookers.

He is embers, “I have a surprise.” He does not grab you by the collar or threaten you with his teeth and when you grasp his hand to steady yourself from an awkward step, he is the boy who makes magic for you in the dark. Bakugou Katsuki’s ears are scarlet even as he stares ahead, sweat pearls between your fingers and he sweeps you close, albeit awfully tight, through the steps of a Takoban dance. His face catches light from the candles above and the shadow of his pale lashes sweeps over both cheeks.

A corded thigh slips between yours and back again to the tune of one sad string. The rhythm doubles for four steps and calms again. You could dance the continent around for all the etiquette training you’ve endured but something about the lack of ghosts here, something about your heart beating out of time with the song, about red eyes and a clenched jaw, the hand fingering notches on the small of your back like it might a cello– you are suddenly on the catwalks again with your lips smiling into his, you are holding back tears, you are clicking teeth and stumbled steps and hands cupping cheeks, and your heart bleeds all over the dancefloor. Your voice cracks, “I’m so sorry,” and it is the loudest thing in the room.

“The candles are blue at the queen’s request,” he rumbles, sacrificing posture to watch you properly, to correct you. “That must…I, I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have let them.” Bakugou raises his right shoulder in invitation for your hand to rest there but your fingers lift from his arm as he turns you both, and settle on that small new wound at his cheek. You breathe deeply as your chests slot together, no fight in sight. Your relief almost comes in tears.

Party guests do not stop staring, especially now that the foreign royal has spirited his beast to the dancefloor. At a distance, familiar faces train gazes your way. Little doctor Shuzenji and Aizawa beside her nursing a pink champagne flute, both ribboned in their bests. Uraraka offers you a tight lip at the edge of the dancefloor. Fuyumi boxsteps in line nearby, the lonely violin picks up pace, hand in hand with her youngest brother and attempts to lean in to whisper to you before Bakugou cages them both out with his shoulders.

He clears his throat, “Captain,” the second-loudest thing in the room, “will you dance with me?”

It’s not your best, admittedly, but the thought your four-step is poor enough your partner needs to clarify does lighten the mood, and you nod. Half your focus is sacrificed to keeping calm in such a full room and the other half is completely at his mercy.

“Peruro?” Bakugou raises those flaxen eyebrows, his lips led by yours. The dance peruro. Destructive and certain to give the Takoban King an aneurysm. Something like comfort slips in. Your eyes widen suddenly and your prince with you. What does he see? you wonder. You nod again.

The waltz will reach its climax soon and Bakugou leads you through a perfect Takoban rhythm until the second he dips forward to whisper, through your hair and over the silence of this cursed party, “Mind your ears, dragonne.”

You shudder immediately at the name, hand in hand, chest to his. Something in your perfect center bursts in white flame and you throw your eyes down to your skirts.

“Dance!” Bakugou’s voice cracks like a whip of thunder above the soggy party and he lifts his chin over your head. The vibration of every syllable rumbles from his ribs to yours and his growl is smoke on water, “or die.”

The next second a horn howls one crescendoed note and every hair not squeezed into your silk dress, prickles. You jerk your gaze back up to Bakugou, unsure what expression you might be making, “How?”

But your prince is still grinning wide so you must be too. “Bribed em,” he leans close and as one confused violin trails off, another trumpet joins the fray. Dancers look around distractedly and onlookers whisper, louder, slightly louder, to be heard over the addition of percussion to the building swell of tuning instruments. A pair of cymbals crash like earthquake, a waitress topples over.

Shinsou shakes his head in the corner of the room and rubs his face, fondly entertained. The king is out of his seat again. Suddenly a fifteen piece band is making the sound of home. The band vibrates under an arc of camellias and the small woman seated at the front pulls a flute from her suit jacket. The herding call of her shepherd’s pipe gathers the cacophony and just as quickly as the group disrupted the peace, they hush behind seventeen beautiful whispers of the pipe, clear and bright as stars. It is the quiet start of Mitsuki’s favorite drinking song. Fear of crowds melts from you like bedtime stories.

faire of the fields

the girl who plays for me

dance and i will watch you

dance and i will join,

you who

teaches beasts to love

send us all to war

She draws the final note long and low, violins become fiddles, trumpets repeat the tune, a drummer growls, two pipes build, and the flute cheers back atop a flirty melody of three before the brilliant song erupts. Bakugou clasps your hand tight and throws you from his grip so that you might twirl and glow under his arm but the rules of peruro dictate a little more focus than that.

The closest dancers to you shriek when Mina barrels through them and pulls you out of his hold. She squeals with two gloved hands on your waist, “Miss firelight!” Her dress envelopes yours and the spinning doesn’t stop until you’ve tripped a man at the edge of the dancefloor and very nearly toppled over yourselves.

Over the curve of her shoulder you snort, shocked by your own glee, as Takobans try to adjust their waltz to the Alderan rhythm and inevitably four-step themselves into a fervor. Kirishima towers over your prince and barks with laughter trying to get the man to spin under his arm. Shinsou is no longer brooding at his post. He is hand in hand with Kanminari, flecked all over with petitfour cream, who has led him into the fray.

“Lady Mina!” you bellow and take up her hand in yours. You fasten your waists together and both of you fly into the tide. When was the last time you put the blue mage’s voice away? How long has it been since you last danced Peruro? Singing while stepping, laughing, diving for bystanders and squealing when drunk guests toppled over themselves to be the one to lift you into the air. You steal your partners in peruro, and fight to keep them. It keeps the room from feeling small, from crushing you. When you are thrown whoever catches you gets the next dance and the songs never end.

Euphoria threatens to spill over the fire Katsuki started in your heart. Flame mages are far from your mind under blue candlelight.

The queen does not move, but she might be smiling. Fuyumi yelps when her champion scoops her up from behind and places her on her shoulder. Even the youngest Todoroki and his freckled champion tut about together to the rhythm. You hope no one tries to steal the blue prince; he might not survive it; and make eye contact with Natsuo while you completely butcher Mina’s three step dips. He stands at the base of his parents’ thrones, unmoving, but pink with excitement.

Takobans, even servants, lingering at the edge of the crowd cannot outswim the rip current. They belong to a quietly stubborn nation who will attempt their delicate hop skips even to the bleat of an Alderan horn. Only cowards leave a dancefloor and it is the first respectable tradition you’ve seen here.

In a flash of red across the room, your prince takes up two stiff women in each arm and you almost spit in laughter as they go purple under the instruction of the barbarian prince. The polished floor vibrates. It’s too loud to think, a mix of happiness and screams of indignation as pretty lords and ladies are pulled into the fray by those countrymen only slightly drunker than they.

Peruro is a game and so when Sero Hanta and his cheeks tattooed with lipstick kisses, plucks you from your partner, Mina can hardly complain. The flutist roars her approval and her fiddlers breathe life into the happy song behind her. Trumpets pluck, bleat, and howl complex harmonies that prove you’re Alderan from the sheer intoxication of the sound.

Sero’s long arms wrap behind you and you’re off your feet before you can speak. “Return of the Red Captain!” His grip on your sides is more ticklish than hell and you giggle and squirm as you fall into a dip. His palms hit something hard, the dagger concealed in your gown, “Are you armed?” He chuckles and tugs you up and close, back to chest.

“Me? Never.” You peek over your shoulder, both laughing, and he peels you from him so tight you spin away three times fully and far enough away from him that Kirishima poaches you without difficulty.

His Alderan fire rolls off the warm parts of him in waves of pine smoke and happiness. How many yards of fabric it must have taken for Takoba to stitch his suit– the cost– you can’t imagine. He hoists you onto his shoulder before you can think a moment longer.

Your red pleats swell in the air and settle with your hips on his broad shoulder. The hidden sheath under your bodice taps his ear. “Are you armed?!” He hollers and spins once to make you squeal and grip tight to his hair. Princess Fuyumi covers her mouth to hide laughter and you beam at each other from your shoulder seats, over the sea of Takoban heads. The champion shrugs you into his arms and back onto your feet. The new heels of your dancing boots click like bells every step you take.

Eijirou is a wonderful dancer, and difficult to burgle. He throws his hands above his head and the pair of you clap, kick one leg out and turn, eyes always locked and teeth shining. With your next kick, your hip checks a short man attempting to dance Takoban and knocks him into another pair. Eijirou’s next clap, behind his back, startles a woman so badly she covers her ears and the whole room reeks of home. Drown in it Takoba, dance or die.

Your friends are safe. There’s nothing to fear from shitty parties and you spare a thought for the servants you must have traumatized on your rampage down here. Wers and mers, the window you broke– Kirishima’s hands are at your waist because you are distracted, you are searching, and before you can brace yourself he has thrown you clear into the air.

No matter how much you hate it here, the ballroom is beautiful and Natsuo might be a wonderful king. His decorations shine in the queen’s candlelight. Early winter flowers are strung by the thousands to garnish balustrades and window frames, they erupt from iridescent vases and hang in an arch over the howling band. Bundles of pearls dot every corner and swallow the moonlight. Silver shells and whistles, inlaid cuffs, white wigs, Takoba is most beautiful by moonlight. There’s no sun here. Did you ever think you’d hate him? That you’d miss him? Where is he? Your prince likes plums best because they’re sour and he blows on dandelions when no one’s watching and he works construction with his men when the city needs repair and he hates how dry paper feels on his fingers. The daggers at your hip cool in your descent.

“Red suits you, dragonne!” Bakugou roars and you land square in his arms to the coo of a shepherd's pipe. You blink and his, him, he– he stares. He is terrible at piano and walks with his head down after rain to keep from stepping on worms. He mends his own clothes because his father taught him how to sew. “You,” he attempts to speak, “Captain, you,” but the high of the dance dissolves from him even as the music swells because you stare and bring your fingers to the wound on his cheek.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathe. He does not find his words in the space between your faces. Your prince goes pink. Enough of the room is dancing now that you need to read lips to truly hear anything but he understands your every thought without effort as he lets you down. There’s a hand on your back to keep you close. I’m afraid. It hurts to be so close to you. He presses his forehead to yours.

“Y/n, ’m sorry.” You fight yourself not to fight the closeness. It’s rotten work. Your gown matches his suit perfectly and pressed together you spin in the chaos and climax of a beautiful song.

The prince rolls figure-eights against your forehead with his own. Two much less focused dancers jostle your duet and Bakugou sweeps a foot forward to trip the leader before lifting you over the pile of men and returning to the dance. You glow red in his arms above him, halo of the moon.

A tall man shifts between rushing servants on the catwalks. Your prince beams below you, king of the sun. It's a pretty party. It is perfectly loud. A polearm is readied on a scarred arm in the dark and no one minds blue fire.

The flutist picks up speed, spurred on by the tambourine, and each note from each instrument cuts itself off to make time for the next. Every place you touch one another aches. If it would just stay like this forever, dancing, knowing without speaking, you could kill any enemy. The sky would learn to kneel, if only you could keep the adoration of winespilt eyes.

A series of gasps, a yelp, and Kirishima’s sweet laughter punctuate the thought. Bakugou was meant to wear fine clothes like these. Sparks like fairy lights twinkle where sweat beads on his jaw and you would have given nine lives to kiss him one more time. He will be a good king too. There is a scream.

Your hand on his shoulder bunches the fabric of his cape, and you lurch forward to lock your other hand around his back. Your foot is dead behind his before he can blink and with a surge of momentum from the dance, the last swell of fiddle, a prayer for old gods, luck from the sea and something like love, you knock the prince over your shoulder and onto the ground into the thickest thrall of dancers.

He laughs the whole way down and holds you where he can to keep from knocking your heads together. The sound is molten gold. You would sin to hear it always.

He is still laughing, howling, bursting with joy when he hits the ground and you with him in your perfect dance peruro. He doesn’t notice the whine of dropped instruments or revulsion of the crowd because he cannot look away from you. On his back, on the floor, beneath you, Prince Bakugou lifts his arm to cup your face and freezes in the new and sudden silence.

The impact of the spear shattered a chunk of floor beside your prince’s heart where it landed. Missed, you grin feebly. He’s okay. He is perfect and wide-eyed and beautiful, and the blade of your cherrywood halberd shines with blood from its home through your chest.

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honeesucker · 2 years ago

Text

Haunted by a Shadow

Pairing: Shoto Todoroki x Fem!Reader x Dabi

Word Count: 12,976

Content Warnings: Dead Dove (do not eat)! Kidnapping, Non-Con, Dabi burns reader, Unhinged Brother™ Touya, sexual torture, vaginal and anal penetration / double-penetration (body & objects), drug use (on reader), mentions of blood, use of phone for sexual photos/video, (to be safe) mentions of incest (Dabi calls you ‘basically family’, refers to himself as ‘brother’ and you as ‘little sister’), reader peeing on themself, reader has to ingest a non-edible item, no happy ending.

*Not proofread.

Shoto couldn’t stop glancing over at you as the snowflakes danced down from the darkening sky and landed on your hair, your jacket, your face. He wanted to kiss away the little cold specks but knew better than to be so bold, so quickly. His whole body buzzed with new feelings, never having really thought about romantic connections beyond what he’s observed in others, it was just never something he considered for himself even after graduating from UA where more and more of his friends began to seek out partners.

You, however, caught his attention by literally running into him at Endeavor’s agency. It happened just outside of the cafeteria where a gorgeous courtyard was centered, flowers, trees and shrubbery hiding various benches and picnic tables for staff to take a break from the office out in a natural space away from the harsh lighting and non-stop buzz of agency work. You had been wearing a comfortably loose silken black dress that was cinched in at the waist, and for a moment you glanced down at your phone the exact second Shoto had turned the corner around a column in the courtyard causing you to drop your phone, spill hot coffee between the both of you, and trip in the excitement landing atop the Pro Hero heir. Your eyes had widened as large as the moon, bright and shiny, panicked, Shoto had noted; but he fell for you all the same in that instant, assured you that it was only an accident and that he insisted on taking you out shopping to replace the dress.

That was three weeks ago, and now you were walking home with him to meet his siblings and have dinner. The sun had almost fully set behind the horizon and the gentle fall of snow was all that surrounded you and you walked nearly hand-in-hand with Shoto, your fingers grazing each other little by little as your hands swung closely. He was soon ripped from his thoughts by your hand, warm and soft, clasping his. His cheeks instantly heated up, tips of his ears burning hot beneath his knitted cap as he turned away from you quickly, coughing into his other hand as you swung your hands between the both of you.

“This is so nice, Sho!” You mused aloud, watching with twinkling eyes the snow falling around the neighborhood, the light from the moon and the streetlamps shimmering back as you glanced at him with a huge smile on your face.

Shoto hadn’t explicitly asked you to be his girlfriend yet, though any who watched you two over the past few weeks would definitely say you were already together in all ways but the label. Shoto had a plan to ask you tonight but the way his body buzzed and bounced with anxiety he wasn’t sure he’d have the courage just yet, but he resolved to do his best to end this night with you officially together. He couldn’t wait - he had asked Fuyumi to make whatever she deemed best for dinner though he did mention you didn’t particularly like seafood of any sort. When you both finally turned the corner, still hand-in-hand, you were taken aback by the large, traditional style house you saw.

“Wow,” you breathed out, “Shoto your house is amazing!” Shoto’s chest puffed up with pride that you were praising anything related to him. Though he’d rather not be under the same roof as his father - he was still happy to share space with his brother and sister.

“Thank you,” Shoto finally said, leading you up the stone pathway to his front door. You both took off your shoes, coats and hats while you stepped inside the genkan. Sitting down on a bench briefly to unlace your boots, Shoto opened a small cabinet and produce a new-looking pair of grey slippers for you. You smiled as you thanked him, slipping into the house slippers and following behind him as he led you deeper into his home. Soon enough the smell of delicious food hit your nose, and you couldn’t stop your mouth from instantly salivating. Shoto and you turned a corner that led to an open room with the similarly traditional look of the rest of the house - tatami mats, and shoji doors with a sleek, slate gray interior and minimal decorating; mostly just a couple of family portraits, some flowers in a vase and some old looking traditional art pieces. In the center of the room there was a long chabudai table with cushions for seating, namely, to fit the large family he was a part of, but he had assured you it would only be you and his siblings tonight. Your anxiety had lessened knowing you wouldn’t be subject to Endeavor’s hard gaze, or even more blunt line of questioning. The table was already set with dishes, a couple bottles of sake, as well as glasses, chopsticks and spoons. Shoto had directed you to sit down and get comfortable and he would check in on his sister in the kitchen.

“Wow,” you had whispered out in a long breath, taking in the room around you. You wondered what it was like growing up here for Shoto - though you had an idea of some of what he endured. You swallowed hard, remembering the broadcast made by the estranged Todoroki brother, the eldest - Touya. He had laid out the abuse and neglect he faced at the hands of Endeavor, and while the word of a villain couldn’t always be trusted - Shoto had given you more of a look into his life that made the knot in your throat only grow bigger.

Your brief train of thought was interrupted soon by Shoto reentering the room with a tray of two rice bowls, placing one on each side of the table, followed by some smaller side dishes of various pickled vegetables, katsudon and various tempura vegetables. Soon Fuyumi was fussing over you, getting you a glass of water to start and helping to serve you as Shoto sat down next to you, and soon Shoto’s older brother Natsuo entered as well, following his nose to the table and awaiting food.

The introduction felt easy, eating and drinking (Natsuo opened the sake first and poured the round for everyone) became more and more comfortable as the night progressed and soon you were laughing and leaning on Shoto as he mindlessly picked up tempura vegetables and fed you between you telling stories and listening to Natsuo’s bad jokes. Shoto could see from the corner of his eyes how Fuyumi was watching the two of you, the fondest smile on her face as she gave an almost unnoticeable nod to Shoto. Shoto was on cloud nine, never imagining the night to end up this good, but then again things had always come easy between you two.

Soon enough Natsuo retreated back to his room, Fuyumi insisted the cleaning be left to her and she hurried you and Shoto out of the dining room, and Shoto grew bolder as he took you by the hand and led you outside to go for a walk. He even wrapped you up in his own coat, which you took happily, bringing it up to your face to blow warm air in, and snuggle into the familiar, clean scent you’ve come to love. After walking for a bit, you and Shoto stopped in the center of a beautiful garden lit up by twinkling fairy lights, small like little fireflies as he led you to a bench seated just beneath a Sakura tree, and nearest to an expansive koi pond whose bridge you walked over to reach where you were now seated.

“[Name]...” Shoto’s voice suddenly breaking the silence of the moment shook you out of your thoughts as you glanced over at the man you’ve come to adore. Admiring the way his eyes seemed to always look like they were seeing into you rather than just seeing you on the outside.

“Yes, Sho?” You managed out, tongue heavy with your sudden nerves.

“I’ve wanted to ask you for a while now but,” Shoto started, almost backing out but he resigned himself to this moment, no matter how it turned out. “I wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend, officially, if you want to of course - you can absolutely say n-” Shoto’s rambling was cut off by you. More accurately, your lips silence his rambling as they pressed against his. They were softer than you imagined, cold to the touch in the chilly night air but soon the warmth took over as he deepened the kiss with you. “W-was that a yes or-” You planted another quick, silencing kiss on Shoto and his sweetly oblivious nature as you laughed.

“Yes, Shoto - I would absolutely love to be your girlfriend.” He pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you as he nestled your head beneath his chin. His cheeks were heating up as a furious blush overtook his face, and he bit his lip to keep from screaming out.

You were his. Finally!

Unfortunately for you both, an uninvited guest was overlooking the sweet moment shared between Shoto and you, and it was only going to get worse from there.

Dabi was feeling - well, how was he feeling? This emotion in his chest wasn’t new to him but he couldn’t quite place it. He almost couldn’t remember when he last felt it until it all hit him at once as he watched Shoto kissing you.

Jealousy.

Bearing witness as Shoto stumbled over what must be his first romantic confession, sweetly asking you to be his girlfriend, and you saying yes. He didn’t know why this set off an angry black fire within his body, but it did, and it was burning its way down to his palms where sparks of blue were already starting. Dabi clenched his fists, extinguishing his quirk as quickly as it sparked up. He needed to wait for the perfect moment to strike. Burning you and Shoto up in a quick blaze just wouldn’t give him the satisfaction he was looking for, not even close - but as he waited, watched as you and Shoto shared a goodbye; watched as Shoto insisted on walking you home but you told him you’d be fine and for him to stay... Dabi could swear he was receiving divine karma for his old man’s transgressions, his mind running a mile a minute with the possibilities of what he could do surfacing to his mind as the perfect opportunity he couldn’t have ever anticipated showed up right in front of him in the form of you walking away from his childhood home alone.

Dabi couldn’t help the way his tongue darted out at the sight of you calmly walking down the sidewalk away from him - couldn’t help imagining just how perfect this night was going to be once he got his hands on you.

The walk back to your apartment took about an hour. You had considered taking the bus, but your body was full of too much adrenaline to actually calm down. Heart was fully, and fluttering with the renewed feelings for Shoto, and how sweetly the night with him went - you really couldn’t have asked for anything more.

Well, maybe a better sense of self-preservation.

Dabi couldn’t help but feel amused at your blissful march back to your apartment with no sense of caution, no thought that anyone would be watching you, following you... but he was. He was watching you as you walked the familiar streets of downtown Musutafu. Watched as you passed dark alley after dark alley, so many easy places he could slip in to and snatch you up to drag you back to the building he was currently staying in - and then... and then? Well, his imagination was running wild at all of the possibilities. His chest was still burning with the jealousy of seeing his younger brother - the golden child of his family - being happy and getting to experience things he never had a chance to; even worse he was attempting to live normally even after his streaming confession across all of Japan? Fuck that. He wanted to ruin that for Shoto, so that meant ruining you and all that you symbolized. It wasn’t ten more minutes when you finally jogged up the steps of a nice-looking apartment building, nothing so fancy you had a doorman or real security but definitely not the slums. He watched from further back through the glass front doors as you checked your mail, grabbing a few envelopes from the slot before locking it back up and making your way toward the elevator. That’s when Dabi decided to enter your building, and watched the numbers count up and up until it landed on the twelfth floor. He walked back outside and stood across the street, watching with bated breath as he waited for one of the many dark windows to light up on the twelfth floor. He didn’t have to wait long as he saw the third from the far right light up - easy enough.

You locked the door behind you as you entered your apartment and switched on your lights, setting your keys and purse down and taking off your coat and shoes before slipping into your own house slippers, cheeks burning up at the memory of how Shoto got your own pair at his house now, too. You walked further into your apartment, turning on your electric kettle to make some tea before bed, and leaving it to heat up as you freshened up for the night - shower, nighttime skincare, and comfy sleep clothes - a ratty old All Might tank and soft, cheeky sleep shorts. You heard the alarm beeping that alerted you to your hot water being done, and when you rounded the corner out of your room looking out into your living room and kitchen your blood ran cold as your feet froze to the floor where you stood, one hand gripping the threshold tightly.

Someone was stood in your kitchen, having just pressed the kettle power button. The steam was spilling out of the top as the hissing whistle sound died down, the person still with their back to you but you noticed they were quite tall with a black hood pulled down over their face as they looked over their shoulder at where you stood, watching, waiting.

“W-Who are you,” you questioned quietly before swallowing your nerves and straightening up, “who are you and what are you doing in my apartment? Get the fuck out no-” your voice fell away as the figure turned fully, pulling their hood down with one hand as a wide, horrific smile appeared on the familiar face.

“Awe, c’mon little sister! That isn’t a way to greet your boyfriend's older brother now, is it?” Dabi... or Touya... Dabi stood in your kitchen’s white light. Hood pulled down to reveal the dyed black hair, and terrifying glacial eyes as they took you in, up and down your body until it made you feel sick, when they traveled up to meet your gaze again, smile stretching the scarred skin wide in such an unnatural way.

Ping!

You had promised Shoto that you would text him when you got back to your apartment safely, you had meant to do so when you sat down with your tea after you cleaned up, but that didn’t seem like it was going to happen now. Your fingers itched with the urge to run for your phone - if you could get a call started to Shoto you know he would respond faster than the police could, but with Dabi watching you like a cat with a cornered mouse you weren’t so sure it was the smartest move to make currently.

Ping!

Another text, that confirmed for you that it was Shoto checking in on you - no one else would be texting you this late. Dabi’s smile grew wide as he watched your thoughts race through your head, watched as you instinctively leaned toward the sound of your phone, watched as your fingers gripped and released the threshold still holding you up as your panicked eyes darted around your apartment.

“Now doll, I don’t have all day,” Dabi finally broke the long silence, taking a couple of steps forward that had your hand releasing the doorway and stumbling back against the wall behind you.

“Dabi,” your voice was as threatening as you could make it - which wasn’t much in the face of a notoriously dangerous villain. “Why are you in my apartment?”

“Don’t be like that,” Dabi took two more steps toward you, “no need for formalities, you know my name, don’t you? With the way little Shoto looks at you I’d say we’re on the quick path to being in-laws hm? Call me Touya.” It was at that moment a third text came in, rattling away as your phone vibrated in your purse atop the small table in your entryway. Dabi had turned his attention away from you for a second that gave you enough bravery to bolt for your room. To find and grab anything that could be a weapon, to get your door shut and locked, to jump out your window... anything.

The second your body moved, you scrambled like a rabbit swift and strong as you tried to push your door completely shut but Dabi was right behind you, wedging his boot to stop it from closing completely. When that failed you scrambled to your dresser where various objects were, but none seemed sturdy enough to take him out. It was in one of the moments your hands were scrambling for anything to turn around and hit him across the head with, that he grabbed you, pulling your arms behind your back and slamming you forward onto your bed. You struggled against his grip as he pressed his front almost completely onto you, lowering his weight to pin you down further. “K-Keep struggling,” he ground out, huffing as you continued to wiggle and try to free yourself from him, “it gives me a fucking hard on feeling you struggle like this.”

Everything stopped.

Your struggling, your screaming, all fight drained out of you at that revelation.

“Get the fuck off of me, Dabi,” you growled out, shifting your body to try and wiggle free again. “Shoto is going to come looking for me when I don’t answer his texts!”

“Oh,” Dabi was laughing now, the deep chuckle reverberating against your back. “I’m counting on that.”

You felt a sharp prick into your neck as the world around you blurred and blackened, whatever was in that needle sending you into a syrupy sleep as if your blood and the air you were breathing in thickened to suffocate you.

You woke up in more pain than you’ve ever experienced before in your life. Your head was pounding, your abdomen was in indescribable pain, and it hurt to move your body even an inch. Tears burned your eyes as you tried to open them, blinking away the sleep trying to get your vision to focus.

“Sleeping Beauty is finally awake,” a familiar voice came from the darkness, startling you until a bright, blinding light was turned on. Your eyes shut again at the bright assault. “Sorry for the inhospitality so far, I couldn’t control myself earlier and took some frustration out on you while you slept.” Dabi was looking over at you with a shit-eating grin on his face, mimicking kicks as his heavy boots scuffed the ground and thudded against the wall. You never had any broken bones before, but this surely had to be what a broken rib felt like. “Wish I had pain killers to spare but the few I get my hands on, I need for myself,” Dabi stepped closer to you bound on the floor of a simple-looking room before rearing his right foot back to bring another harsh kick to your stomach; you cried out, fresh tears spilling from your eyes as the burning spread out from the point of impact.

“P-please,” you managed out between choked gasps of air, “please stop, Dabi.”

“Didn’t I already tell you, doll?”

Kick.

“We’re practically family now!”

Kick.

“Call me Touya.”

Kick.

“Tou-Touya please,” you pleaded with the villain again. “Please stop. Tell me what you want, what I can do, I can help yo-” another kick hitting your shoulder this time with a sickening impact.

“What I want,” Dabi mused, his deep voice trailing off as he circled around you like a vulture to a carcass. “What I want is to hurt Endeavor, which can be achieved by hurting Shoto... which is achieved through hurting you. I want to take away everything I never got the chance to have, from him, and keep it for myself,” Dabi was kneeling now, scarred hand reaching down to push some of your hair from your bloodied face, pieces sticking to your skin from where the blood dried. “And you can help me by being a good little slut for your new brother,” Dabi lifted up your limp body from the floor to bring you over to a worn-out mattress, stained with Gods-know-what and a few rusted-looking springs poking out in places as you cried and tried to struggle, as weak as the attempt was with all of your strength zapped.

What was left of your ragged pajamas was removed from your body, skin prickling with goosebumps as the icy air in the room wafted over your exposed skin. Dabi’s hand shot back to your now-exposed chest, gripping and twisting your breasts painfully, forefinger and thumb coming up to grip your nipple and twist, pull, anything he could do to get you to scream again - and scream you did at each cruel ministration. It was when he was cupping the plush flesh of your breasts, scarred hands pushing them up from underneath that a blood-curdling scream as Dabi’s hands heated up to an ultra-hot temperature, branding your flesh with his palmprints. You felt queasy as you heard the sizzle of your skin and smelt the strangely charcoal smell as it burnt. The laughter you heard above you felt amplified as your senses went on high alert. “That was way too fun,” Dabi nearly moaned out, pressing his palms back into where he burnt you as you flinched away from the contact, slipping onto the bed as he straddled your legs, pinning you own further. He leaned in to first take your left nipple in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around the pert bud before biting down with considerable force, causing you to cry out once more; he mimicked his actions on your right nipple before licking and sucking up the column of your throat before he assaulted the area with deep bruised hickeys and some less-than-sexy, more like zombie, bites to the delicate skin.

The pain was making it hard for you to focus on anything else, like the feeling of Dabi shifting above you as he undid his belt, took off his jacket, his t-shirt, removed his jeans, kicked off his shoes and finally slipped out of his boxer briefs where his long, slender cock slapping up against his abdomen as it leaked a pearly bead of pre-cum, the silken, translucent substance slipping down his cockhead as he began to touch himself. He was watching you with predatory eyes, the lazy stoking of his hand up and down his length only serving to harden him more as he ached to be inside of you, and as he lent forward, shoving your legs apart with his own, you cried out as he thrusted forward, and in one swift motion he seated himself fully within your warmth, heavy balls slapping against your ass as the tension from his unprepped entry left your cunt burning, even worse as he spit barely enough to wet his cock down upon where your bodies joined together as he drug his cock out slowly, only for him to slam his hips forward with enough force it jostled you up the bed until your head hit the metal bars of the bedframe.

Dabi began a relentless assault on your pussy as his thrusts became more violent, shaking your whole body with the force as the friction continued to burn. Your body was trying to spare you the pain as it began to lubricate itself with the stimulation, but even in conjunction with Dabi’s spit, and the blood from what definitely felt like a friction tear, it wasn’t nearly enough to save you from it all. Dabi began laughing as his entry into your core was becoming easier, his ruthless thrusts gliding in and out. “Gettin’ all excited for me, huh doll?” Dabi lifted your legs, throwing one over his shoulder and pinning the other one down nearly folding you in half as he chased his own release, hips stuttering as he moaned lowly, whispering a shaky f-fuck under his breath as he pushed his hips forward, spongy cockhead pressing against the deepest point in you with an aching pressure before you felt the hot spurting of him cumming inside of you. You cried harder, hands weakly trying to push him from you but the pain and shock you were in made it hard to really gain an advantage over the man on top of you.

You felt sick to your stomach as you clenched your eyes shut, feeling as Dabi’s cock stayed seated within you before he began to drag it out agonizingly slow, but not before you heard the shutter sound from a camera. Your eyes shot open, wide in horror as you saw Dabi holding a phone pointed down where your bodies were connected, and the sick feeling only increased when you realized it was your phone.

Something was off.

Shoto couldn’t quite settle the uneasy feeling he felt, but when you didn’t text him within an hour, he began to worry so he shot you a quick text.

(Photo description: Fake text message screen, Y/N with a Sakura flower emoji top contact name, Shoto sent four texts which read as follow: “Hey Y/N, just making sure you made it home safely. Thank you for coming over tonight. // Y/N? Is everything okay? // Y/N please answer me, I just want to know you’re okay. // I already called your Mom. I’m coming over.”)

It only took Shoto about fifteen minutes to drive to your apartment, but to be fair he definitely didn’t go the speed limit. He had driven you home a couple of times from work and picked you up for a couple of lunch dates since you had first met so every path to your home was ingrained in him. He parked, and when he began his walk up to the lobby doors he noticed the lights in your apartment were on. Hope and dread wrestled for dominance within him as he tried to think of a reason you didn’t answer his texts.

Did you just forget?

Were you busy with something and he overreacted?

Did you not enjoy tonight as much as it seemed and wanted to distance yourself?

The last one worried Shoto, but he knew how genuine you were, knew that if you didn’t enjoy yourself, it would have been written all over your face. He also knew you would have let him down gently when he asked you to be his girlfriend, sparing his feelings but being honest about yours. It wasn’t like you to lie for someone else’s benefit. Shoto couldn’t stop his body from fidgeting as he waited for the elevator to rise to your floor, pushing the button a couple more times than necessary which made him feel better. When he got to your floor and walked the short distance to your apartment door, he tried to think of something to say to you about his texts if you hadn’t seen them yet. That he was sorry for showing up and bothering you, but he had to know you were okay.

Shoto gave a couple of knocks, but on the third knock your door pushed open a few inches. That set his whole body on high alert because you never left your door unlocked, even when you were just running down the hall to give or get something from your neighbor - he made a joke about it to you once and you said you did it out of habit, afraid the one time you didn’t someone would sneak in. He couldn’t disagree with you there, having a few years under his belt as working hero and a child of Japan’s current number one left him with a clearer understanding of the world and how bad things can happen so suddenly out of nowhere.

He never joked about it with you again, just praised you for your forethought.

Shoto stepped inside to see your purse sitting on your entryway table. Your coat and hat you wore tonight were hung on hooks on the opposite wall as he called your name out into your apartment but was met with complete silence. He saw the shoes you wore tonight knocked over like you either took them off in a hurry or tripped over them on the way back out your apartment. Shoto didn’t take his off as he stepped up further into your apartment and took in the state of things. Your living room wasn’t necessarily messy, but Shoto had gotten to know your habits over the last few weeks with you, knowing that you wouldn’t leave things this way. Your electric kettle was out, a cup with a teabag untouched on the counter; Shoto walked over to press his fingertips to the kettle to notice it was barely above room temperature having sat untouched for too long now.

“[Name]?” Shoto called out again into the silent apartment, only the echo of his voice coming back to him. Shoto walked toward your bathroom where he saw the light on and could smell the fresh scent of your shampoo that he became familiar with. A favorite scent and he loved to press his nose against the crown of your head when you hugged him, pressing a soft kiss there as he memorized the way you smelt and felt against him. Shoto shook his head, shaking the memory out with it as he pushed open the bathroom door. “[Name]? Are you in here?” Shoto couldn’t hear the water running so he didn’t want to run the risk of walking in on you in any state of undress or startle you as he pushed the door completely open.

Things were in the bathroom left like you had just wrapped up a shower, a dampness still hung in the air but no steam remained in the air. Shoto turned and moved to your bedroom, a place he had been only once when you invited him over and you both ended up curled up together as you fell asleep watching a movie. He walked through the threshold of the open door, and the sight is what made his blood run cold. His eyes were trained to pick up on certain things, and this room was screaming signs of a struggle everywhere Shoto’s eyes landed. He saw your house slippers on opposite sides of the room, things were knocked off your dresser and vanity, a couple of noted heavier objects were thrown to the floor, presumably when you tried to use them as a weapon... or they were used against you.

Shoto swallowed the hard lump down in his throat, panic swelling in his chest as he took photos on his phone of the whole apartment as it was, he called your mom and informed her of what he believed to have happened - informed her to call the police but let them know that he would be working on this as well, and to contact his father. Shoto’s fingers swiped a quick couple of times before holding the phone to his ear.

“Shoto,” Endeavor’s deep baritone could be heard on the other end, “is everything alright?” After the recent events, and Endeavor’s new journey into being a less shitty person he was more worried when his children reached out, as they rarely did so before except for Fuyumi.

“Dad,” Shoto was barely conscious of him using that term, but Endeavor shot up where he was seated, already hurrying out of the agency at his son’s use of the term.

Something was wrong.

A message notification pinged on Shoto’s phone; he could hear Endeavor’s voice shouting on the other end as he pulled it away from his ear to see your name pop up on the notifications up top. He hurriedly pulled it up to see a video attachment, and wondered why you would send a video instead of replying to his texts and letting him know you were okay. He opened the attachment and wasn’t sure what he was looking at, at first, and then his breath caught in his throat, feeling like he was drained of all blood as he ran cold at what he was looking at. He could see your face, albeit bloodied and streaked with dirt and tears, you were completely naked, and he could see what looked like bruises or dirt at first, when a hand came into the view of the camera that he recognized. Long, slender fingers of pale porcelain that cut off into necrotic skin, the gleam of the staples an all too telling sight.

Dabi.

Touya-nii.

He recognized the marks on your chest as handprints now, handprints that were burned into your flesh. He watched with wide, horrified eyes as the camera panned down as the hand trailed your body, Shoto watching as you tried feebly to flinch away from the touch. Watched as the shot ended with the sight of a cock buried within you, a pinkish mixture of blood and cum staining your thighs. Shoto could hear your cries, see your body convulse with the sobbing as he heard a familiar voice cut in

“I hope you don’t mind, little brother,” Dabi’s familiar drawl came over the audio as Shoto watched on, sick to his stomach as he saw Dabi’s hips begin to push forward and pull back as his cock slid in and out of you, streaks of red and sticky, translucent slick and white mixing along the length and at the base of his cock as he did so. “I wanted to keep it all in the family, y’know? Our little sister here, she’s a little weak in my opinion, you deserve someone who matches your strength don’t you think?” A slap could be heard as your cracked voice shrilled and broke into more sobbing as Shoto heard another loud smack! and he couldn’t swallow down the bile rising in his throat. He threw his phone down and ran to the bathroom where he threw up in the toilet, his body shaking as he could hear you cry out from the video still playing before he heard a See you soon, little brother before the audio went silent. Shoto spit into the toilet before standing up again, flushing and running cold water into his mouth and splashing even more on his face. He heard the phone ringing from your bed, and was frozen until the melodic chime cut off, only to begin again. He was able to drag his feet across the hallway and looked down at the screen where he saw Endeavor’s photo and ID come on the screen. He forgot he had called his father earlier, before receiving that message, and picked up again.

“Shoto! Tell me what’s wrong,” Endeavor sounded panicked although anyone from the outside wouldn’t be able to tell.

Shoto could.

“Touy-” Shoto stopped himself, “Dabi.”

“Did you run into him, or the League? Tell me where you are!” Shoto could hear a car start up as he was heading in Shoto’s direction. His father had insisted on enabling location tracking for safety and for once he didn’t disagree.

“No,” Shoto managed to get out, choking on the knot of fear lodged in his throat. “I’m at [Name]’s apartment, I’ll text you the address. I have her mom calling the police as well. Dad,” he drew in a ragged breath, clenching his eyes shut as he tried to calm himself and get the visual of your battered body out of his mind. “Dabi took her, and he’s...” Shoto couldn’t hear what else Endeavor said, but it wasn’t long before the police arrived, and Endeavor shortly after. Shoto sent over the initial photos he took of the apartment, and his father and the lead detective watched the video with hard faces, the disgust and discomfort evident in their expressions. Shoto was seated on your bed after the investigators were done collecting any evidence they could find, holding a small puppy plushie he got for you from a claw machine on one of your guys’ lunch dates. Endeavor came in the room, seeing his son in such a sorry state knowing it was his own mistakes that led them to this point, but now wasn’t the time to grieve over his wrongdoings, right now his son needed his support. Endeavor placed a large hand on Shoto’s shoulder, a hopefully reassuring gesture.

“The detectives are looking into tracing her phone right now and trying to gather clues from the room the video was shot in,” Endeavor didn’t know how else to offer comfort to his son, so he only gave him the facts as they are in the moment. “They’re going to be conducting interviews in the building around the time you suspected she should’ve arrived home last night, and they want you to forward any further communication you may receive...” Endeavor’s voice trailed off, watching as Shoto flinched at the idea of receiving anything else from his villainous brother.

“Thanks, Endeavor,” Shoto managed out, and it relieved Endeavor a bit to hear him speak. He wanted to be called Dad again, but that was an issue for another time... perhaps another lifetime.

Shoto remained sat on your bed until the detectives finished up their work, he asked if he would be able to clean up the mess for you and they agreed, the pitiful smile on one of the detectives faces eluding Shoto’s gaze as they all took their supplies with them, and after Endeavor said he would allocate some Pros, sidekicks and other resources to finding you, he left the apartment as well. Shoto began his task of cleaning for you. Fist he gathered all of the things that were out of place and put them back where they belonged, he put away your kettle and teacup, throwing away some trash and wiping down some surfaces to keep his mind off of this whole situation. He felt so helpless, so useless - feeling such foreign emotions left him confused and angry.

Shoto’s phone pinged again, and he froze. He glanced at the screen to see your name previewed in the notification with a photo attachment. This couldn’t keep happening while he sat around and sulked, he had to do everything he could to find you.

Shoto clicked on the notification, and then pressed your contact before putting the phone to his ear. It rang one, twice, three, four times before the phone picked up. Shoto could make out someone breathing before he heard your ear-piercing scream. “Dabi,” Shoto all but growled out only to be met with an amused chuckle on the other end. “I am going to find you, and I am going to kill you. If you lay another finger on her...!” the line went dead, and two more pings were heard from the device in Shoto’s shaking hand.

He opened the attachments to see one photo of your bruised and bloodied face, cheeks squished between Dabi’s thumb and pointer finger in a crushing grip, your eyes were teary and red.

The second photo was a close up of the burns on your chest, soft skin and pebbled nipples in contrast to the marks that littered your skin, bite marks, but the real horror was the blackened, peeling skin blistered and bloodied in the shape of large palm prints in the way they cupped your breasts.

The sight make Shoto’s stomach turn, swallowing down the acid and bile that rose up into his mouth before opening the third attachment and seeing a scarred hand taking up most of the shot, long fingers spreading your pussy lips to capture the perfect moment a blood-pink-tinged glob of cum was seeping out of you.

Shoto wanted to crush his phone in his hands with the fiery rage that filled his whole body, quirk heating up the left side of his body as his rage grew. He couldn’t break the device, however, because it was his only tie to you. He resolved to go back to his place, happy with how he straightened up the mess that was created - he didn’t want you to come back to any reminders of this time, though the mental scars he knew you were already developing would need support to heal. He wanted to bring you back safely, back to him.

Shoto left your apartment, locking the door behind him with the key left on your entryway table by your purse. He resolved to give it back to you when you returned safely to him.

You felt drained. Your body was aching everywhere, burning in the places where Dabi paid closer attention to cause extra harm; the bites, the burns, where his unprepped entry left you feeling torn in half as he rammed himself inside of you, three times now that you recalled. Before he exited the room, nearly leaving the room with you simply restrained to his bed, but stopped at the doorway and turned around, a sick, curious smile on his face as he set the phone in his hand down atop a dresser - your phone.

Your mouth went dry wondering what he was doing with your phone.

Taunting Shoto pretending to be you, or letting him in on it being him behind the screen? Or worse... you thought about the photos and videos he’s taken of you, bile rising in your throat as you imagined Shoto seeing any of it, but your anxious train of thought was interrupted with Dabi’s full attention back on you.

“Can’t just leave you alone while I take care of business, now can I doll?” You tried to watch what he was doing but the pain increased the more you tried to glance and watch him gather some things from around the room. Dabi had undone the bindings keeping you in place on the bed, only to flip you on your stomach and bind your arms behind your back tighter than before, attaching those bindings to a pulley you didn’t know was above his bed as one end of the rope kept you up by your arms and the other... the other you turned your head to watch in abject panic at the sight before you. Dabi was holding a large metal hook, a hook that was thick and curved and at the end where normally a terrifying sharp point would be there was a large, tapered ball. The grin on Dabi’s face was enthralled as he watched you watch him, eyes wide and panicked. Dabi spit on the end of the ball before he pushed your legs apart, spreading your ass cheeks with his hand only to spit there, too, and with one cruel motion he pushed the large ball through the tight ring of resistant muscle as the hook bullied its way into your backside. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, a choked, gargled whimper all that you could manage with your hoarse voice. He attached the other end of the chain attached to your arm bindings to the looped end of the hook, forcing you to balance yourself in a sick stamina game. He wasn’t done, however, as he stroked your cheek with a tenderness he hadn’t yet touched you with, not before wrapping a leather strap around your head attached to a ball gag; only where the typical ball would be to stretch your mouth open there was a large, silicone cock that he shoved into your mouth before you realized what was happening. You gagged and struggled around the intrusion as he secured the clip behind your head and watched as more tears pricked your eyes and the sounds of your choking filled the air. His last parting gift to you was to place a large black box on the bed behind you. You couldn’t bring yourself to turn and see what this contraption was, just listening to the shuffling sounds as Dabi made quick work of whatever it was he was accomplishing behind you until you gagged around the intrusion in your throat in an attempt to force a plea of mercy out of your mouth, with him when you felt a large intrusion breaching your pussy. You heard the click of a button before a whirring, mechanical sound was heard as the object that spread your pussy began to move forward.

The machine began at a slow pace, fucking a horrendously large appendage into your pussy, the speed picking up to a cruel rhythm as you heard the click of a button at least five times. You were crying again, surprised there was any liquid left in your body to give - you couldn’t even be sure you had enough blood in your veins to survive much longer. Every time you tried to shift your body away from the unforgiving onslaught, you were reminded that the front half of you was holding up the back half as the metal ball-hook stuffed in your ass pulled and caused a greater deal of pain.

“Don’t want you getting lonely while I’m gone,” Dabi lent down to kiss your temple before landing a hard smack to your cheek, patting away the sting with a joyful laugh before leaving you alone in the room with nothing but the sounds of your own torture to be heard. You couldn’t fight your body’s natural reactions, however, as th stimulation continued you felt a tight coil in your lower abdomen building up and before long a strong orgasm washed over you and you thrashed and struggled because the machine wasn’t a man - it wouldn’t slow down and be kind to you, it would only fuck you at the same brutal pace through your orgasm and into another, and another before your vision blurred and you may or may not have lost consciousness a time or two, or seven.

You weren’t sure how long Dabi had left you alone in the room being assaulted by his contraptions, all you knew was at some point the machine made a loud clunking sound and the assault stopped, however it stopped on a thrust in and left the large plastic cock lodged in your pussy. Your poor abused pussy that was pulsating and tingling, numb from the countless penetrations and clinging tightly onto the intruding plastic cock almost painfully. You wanted it out of you. You wanted everything fucking out of you! You had long since gotten used to breathing and swallowing around the silicone cock shoved down your throat and found a safe middle ground to balance between your upper body and the hook penetrating your ass. The pull from the hook was becoming more and more painful, but at least if you kept this posture up it wouldn’t cause you anymore undue pain. Suddenly, you couldn’t help the sob that escaped you as a warm liquid ran down your thighs, spraying lewdly around the cock nestled inside of you. You couldn’t remember if this was the first time you had pissed yourself - unsure if you squirted or peed during some of the more extended orgasm periods in the constant assault you went through, frankly the thought being true one way or another didn’t matter - it just disgusted you.

The passage of time became untellable to you, there were no windows to give away the time with natural light, no clocks, no devices, nothing. Dabi had been gone for quite a while, though, that you knew. You found yourself wondering where he had gone, and for how long; looking around to see if there was any way to free you of your binds and protect you as you tried to get out of this room - wherever this was. One of the only things keeping you going instead of giving up was knowing that your mom and Shoto would both be looking for you... if they knew you were missing.

Your emotions ebbed and flowed between hope and anxiety as you tried to reconcile them. Shoto was smart, caring, and attentive; a bit oblivious at times but he wasn’t someone who would let something go.

Something like you telling him you’d text him you were home.

He’s done it before, texted you or called to check in when your approximate time back to your apartment went over, or texting him slipped your mind because something else came up. He always followed up to make sure you were okay - and given the time you’ve been gone he had to know and be looking for you.

He had to know.

Dabi wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave you alone, would he? No, he would definitely leave you alone... but it wasn’t stupidity, it was arrogance. Shoto couldn’t help the incessant bouncing of his leg, couldn’t help the anticipation of seeing if this tip from a member of the public was true. Blue flames were reported just outside of Kiyashi Ward, and some lower villains were reportedly seen lurking around and causing issues. Endeavor and Shoto were on their way to check into report and Shoto couldn’t help but hope to the heavens that it was true.

The train seemed to take forever but it helped that Shoto had other ways of trying to track you down as a way to pass the time better. He refreshed the service map in the hopes a ping from your cellphone would pop up, but so far nothing has shown up. Endeavor watched on as his son focused on the screen in front of him, worry creasing his features as he kept his mouth shut - knowing that nothing could be of comfort, words or otherwise, until Shoto had eyes on you and by the hard-set, murderous looked darkening his face - Dabi’s head on the ground in front of him. As grieved as Endeavor is over the recent revelations of his eldest son he is also hard-pressed to disagree in that regard given Dabi’s numerous crimes. Endeavor’s chest felt heavy, equally guilty for creating this villain, and now this situation that caused pain to his youngest.

Shoto had seen your phone ping on the map earlier, matching up with the time he was sent the additional photos of you, stomach churning at the memory. He swallowed hard, refreshing two more times before slamming his device down against his leg before shoving it back into his pocket. He had notifications on that were attached to an alarm sound if your phone pinged on the map, but he wasn’t one to wait so patiently in a situation like this - he had always counseled his friends on keeping a cool head but he couldn’t even do that himself. Shoto’s gaze was ripped away from the floor of the train to a few miles south of the city where he saw an unmistakable icy blue blaze flash and disappear. Shoto shot up out of his seat, electing to head to the furthest rear car, opening the door as his father called out after him only to hear his name shouted as he jumped off the moving train, landing on a nearby platform with a harsh impact.

“Shoto! That was too reckless, we were almost at the station what were you thin-” Endeavor’s tirade was cut short as Shoto pointed south, and in the distance, Endeavor took note of the same thing his son had seen earlier before his unceremonious jump from the train. “Let’s go,” nothing else needed to be said, Shoto was already running ahead of Endeavor, who was on the phone making a quick call. The heavy thud of the duos footfalls were all that could be heard on the quiet streets, the citizens already warned of a villain in the area and to take shelter. Shoto was thankful for that, not ready to focus on minimizing loss of life, or damage, or worrying over someone trying to stop him or his father for a photo or an autograph not knowing there was an emergency just a few blocks away. He couldn’t afford to stop when you were suffering somewhere, and it was his fault. He loved you so much already, but he is now the sole cause of the torture you’re experiencing now - all because of his fucked up family. How could he ever face you again after this?

“TOOOUUYYA!” Shoto stopped dead at the loud boom of his father’s voice. His eyes scanning around him until he saw a flash of blue and then as the smoke, dust and falling rubble cleared from a building that just took a hit he could see him - see his brother. His blood boiled as his heart sank into his stomach. Shoto could feel the fiery hot burn on his left side, his fingers clenching and unclenching with an ache to punch in his brother’s face until it was unrecognizable.

“Awe, if it isn’t dear ole Dad,” Dabi chuckled, his voice carrying across the distance between them, “and little Shoto tagged along too, hm? I would think you’d be at home touching yourself to the sweet little videos I made for you - [Name]... she has such a tight little-” a roaring blaze of flame shot toward Dabi, causing him to have to jump out of the way last minute, the edges of his coat burning a moment before the wind from his jump snuffed it out.

“Where is she, Dabi!” Shoto was screaming that same sentence over and over, blasting waves of flame and ice toward his elder brother each time he was met with a psychotic laugh, a taunt, or anything that wasn’t your location. Shoto went to turn and face his father, getting ready to shout a plan of attack but saw the Pro was unmoving behind him, hurriedly whisper-shouting into the receiver of his cell and looking up just in time to see Shoto’s fiery disposition as he shouted for assistance.

“Get your head in the fight, Endeavor!” Shoto all but growled out, catching the end of Endeavor’s phone conversation.

“-out of there, now! We’ll handle this!” Endeavor shoved his phone into his pocket, quirk igniting his body as he shot forward into the fight with Shoto - both of them going full-force at the estranged Todoroki son.

A glorious moment of keen-eye clarity had you recalling Dabi leaving your phone on the dresser by the door. Though your vision was blurred you could make out the length of the slim device, the scant hope left in your mind at your phone being turned on, or even charged as you tried to shout out across the room.

Your mind began to wonder at how you could possibly access the device, there was no way for you to try to fruitlessly shout Hey Siri! with the damnable gag in your mouth. A fresh wave of tears pricked at your burning eyes as a sickening thought crossed your mind. The plan forming in your head was bleak at best, but if it worked it would help aide in your rescue - or kill you - either way, an escape. You used your tongue to shift around the silicone cock lodged in your throat, painfully stretching your jaw so you could angle your teeth down, sinking into the pliant material as a chunk of it loosened from the shaft, falling loosely in the space against your cheek. You forced yourself to swallow down the vile plastic, gagging on the resistance it put up. Again, again, and again. Chunk after disgusting chunk until you had taken down enough of the gag to use your tongue to force the rest of it from your mouth, spit and specks of shredded silicone sticking to your chin.

“Hey Siri-” your voice was so hoarse you don’t think your phone’s AI assistant would even catch it if it was on. You swallowed the meager amount of saliva you had collected beneath your tongue, coughing and cleaning the spiderweb feeling in the back of your throat, and swallowing down the knot that was created after your idiotic plan.

Idiotic you thought, but successful.

“Hey Siri!” You managed to force your voice out loud enough, clear enough, that when you heard the soft melodic ding! of your AI assistant lighting up your screen ready for a direction, you wanted to start sobbing all over again. “Call work!”

Ring... ring...

Ring...

“Endeavor Agency, how may I-” you couldn’t waste battery life on niceties.

“P-please,” you managed out loud enough for the receiver to pick up. “Please connect me with Kido!” The secretary sensing the urgency didn’t push for more detail as she managed to connect you through to the phone of one of the sidekicks at Endeavor’s agency you became friends with. You were acquainted with most everyone at the agency, but Shoto introduced you to the Flaming Sidekickers and Kido quickly took to you.

“This is Kido,” the smooth voice came from the other end, you really wanted to just cry at this plan having worked, but there wasn’t time.

“Kido,” you managed out, and it’s all you got out before the hero was shouting away from the receiver that he had you on the phone and you could hear a bunch of screaming all around him.

“[Name]!” Kido’s normally quiet voice booming over the phone and filling up the room with its echoes. “[Name] where the Hell are you? Are you okay? We’ve been trying to reach you for-”

“Kido please,” you pleaded, “I don’t know how much battery this phone has, I’m not even physically holding it. Please. Can you find my location?” Kido reassured you that they had been waiting for your cellphone to be used so they could further triangulate your location, having it turned on only led them to a large expanse of city where you could have been. “Kido, something else...” your voice trailed off as your weight shifted, causing a painful chain reaction with your aching, bound limbs and the anal hook that was still holding your backend up. “Please bring Moe, please only have her come in and find me. Please.” Kido didn’t push that issue further hearing your voice, only agreeing before saying he had your location and they were on their way to you. He promised they would see you soon, they were only a short distance away. You wanted to stay on the phone with them but didn’t want to risk running the battery down in case you needed it for anything, didn’t want to run the risk of Dabi coming back hearing you calling for help.

You didn’t know how much time had passed, didn’t know if you had passed out or simply zoned out of your mind until you heard shuffling outside of the door. Your whole body tensed up with the possibility of it being Dabi returning from wherever the hell he went, before your colleagues could find you.

“[Name]?” The familiar voice of Moe came through the door, you could turn your head just enough to see the door being pushed open, and the sight of the flaming-haired girl stepping through, her eyes widening in horror at seeing your predicament before yelling something behind her and slamming the door. “Hold tight, let me help you out of this...” the normally boisterous girl was quiet and focused, hands steady as she traced over you gently, trying to figure out where to start in helping you down. “I’m going to release your arms first, there might be some pain when your body drops but we’ll get the rest out right now, I promise.” Her touch was gentle as she unhooked the chain holding your bound arms, the top half of your body dropping, causing a tug to the anal hook that had you choking on a cry, before Moe continued to comfort you, stating she was going to be removing both the anal hook and the dildo attached to the machine. The pull-out of the objects was almost as agonizing as when they went in. Your pussy was sore, gaping and pulsing around nothing after so long of having been stuffed to the brim. The soft pop of the anal hook coming out gave you both relief and another round of pain - but it was over... this all was going to be over.

Moe then worked on undoing the bindings that held onto the rest of your body until you were stripped bare. Moe rushed around the room, finding suitable clothes in the form of a black t-shirt and black sweatpants. Dabi’s, no doubt. You weren’t going to complain about being in anything that had anything to do with him, you just wanted to be covered and out of this nightmare.

Moe had called for the others to come in now, and you saw Kido holding a cellphone to his ear, having pulled it away quickly when you heard the booming voice of Endeavor on the other end.

“Get her out of there now! We’ll handle this!” Kido only agreeing quickly before hanging up, looking over at you with relieved eyes. Relief quickly changing to a horrified emotion when his sight darted around the room, at the bindings and sex toys, at the way Moe held you upright with a strength that was supportive but soft enough to not put any undue pressure on you. The way your fingers curled into the clothing you were wearing, holding the fabric away as if you didn’t want it touching you.

“C’mon,” Kido’s voice was a gentle monotone, comforting. “We have an unmarked vehicle waiting to get you to a private rehabilitation center.”

“Shoto-” you tried to speak out but your throat was tight and dry. “I-is Shoto?”

“He’s okay,” Moe spoke as she lifted you up carefully, but had to set you back down as your legs gave way. “He and Endeavor are currently fighting with Dabi on the other side of the city. They will meet up with us when they wrap up his capture.” Kido stepped forward to pick you up bridal style, maneuvering you out of the room carefully to not knock any part of you on a wall, or threshold. The heroes made their way out of the rundown building, carefully putting you into a blacked-out SUV and tore off away from the building.

“We’re getting you back home, the drive won’t be too long but please let us know if you’re in too much pain to continue travelling,” Kido was driving, looking back at you in the rearview mirror as Moe held you in her arms.

“I’ll be okay,” you managed out, before succumbing to an uncomfortable sleep.

Beep.

Beep, beep.

Beep.

Your eyelids felt heavy, impossible to open as your consciousness came back to you. The sticky glue of sleep caked in your lashes with tears as you forced them open, burning from the contact with the bright fluorescent light and sterilized air. The gentle beeping of your heart monitor, and the mechanical humming coming from the I.V. fluid machine on a timed drip were the only sounds aside from a gentle breathing to be heard in your room.

Breathing?

You glanced around the large room until your eyes landed on one of the large guest chairs pushed against the wall near the window where a sleeping Shoto was hunched over, head slipping out of his hands as his body gently jolted with his breathing and the myoclonic jerks of his body.

Fresh tears pricked your eyes as you watched him breathe. He was here, in front of you. He was alive, and he was here with you. If he was here with you... Dabi had to be in jail - right?

Your whole body jumped as the sliding door to your room opened, your attention ripping away from Shoto as a doctor trailed by Endeavor and a nurse came into the room. Endeavor’s imposing form filling up the space, menacing in his size even when he wasn’t trying to be imposing. Shoto finally shot up, eyes scanning the intruders until they shot over to you, wet with tears that spilled over onto his cheeks.

“Miss [last name], glad to see you awake today.” The doctor spoke clinically to you, allowing the nurse to perform a blood pressure check, adjust your I.V. fluids, and assess your body’s physical condition. “You underwent a minor surgery to remove some foreign object from your stomach, we also had one of our in-house quirk users heal the severe internal trauma you suffered, you’ll feel a pretty deep ache, but you should have a full recovery,” the doctor trailed off turning to the nurse behind him as she stepped forward, telling you about mental health counselling they offer here in their facility. You simply nodded, not bothering to look up into anyone's eyes as they droned on and on about your recovery, how you should be totally fine after some bedrest.

You just nodded along to her handing you a release form, watching as she pulled the I.V. needle from your arm. Looking down at the form as your vision blurred in and out until a gentle touch woke you up from your wandering thoughts. You glanced up to see Shoto smiling down at you, the subtle upturn of his lips reassuring you. You signed the release, and the nurse left the room shortly after Endeavor and the doctor had stepped out a few moments earlier.

“[Name]... I’m so-I’m so sorry,” Shoto’s words got caught in his throat, choking on the weight of reality that couldn’t be erased with a simple apology. His trembling hands were attempting to hold yours, but their grip began to slip as his shoulders shook with the sobs wracking his body. Your hands squeezed around his reassuringly as he looked up at you with wide, watery eyes.

“Shoto this isn’t yo-” he cut you off.

“Don’t say this isn’t my fault,” he ground out between clenched teeth, “you were hurt because of your connection to me and my family - it is only my fault. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you before any of it happened, I’m sorry I can’t undo any of it.” Shoto continued to cry, unable to look at you as you tugged on his hands, pulling on his arms until he got the message that you wanted him on the bed with you. He rested on his side as you pulled him into your arms, resting his cheek against your chest as he calmed his breathing to the sound of your heart. Your still-beating heart. He was so grateful you were physically here in front of him now, but it didn’t stop the unending waves of guilt and shame that he couldn’t do anything against his brother, couldn’t do anything to protect you when being with him put you in the sights of so many villains.

“Shoto, wanna go home,” you whispered against his soft hair, words mumbled from your lips pressing against the top of his head. He simply nodded.

“D-did you want to go back to your apartment? Or you can come stay with me... or we can put you up in a new condo in the meantime if you don’t want to do either of those,” Shoto was shooting off a few suggestions, but you just wanted to go back to your familiar bed. As many new, awful memories lived there it was still your place of comfort - for now.

“I’d like to go back to my apartment for now,” you relented, and he looked up into your eyes from his position resting against you, a frown deepening on his face. “I’ll consider moving to a new place with better security soon but for now I just want the comfort of familiarity.”

“I’ve already arranged an extended paid leave from work for you, you can take as little or as much time as you want,” he stood up from the bed, gathering what little he had in the room with him before extending a small bag your way. “I didn’t think you’d want to wear the hospital gown home, so I got something simple.” You peeked in the bag and saw a casual black jersey dress, soft and flowy against your fingertips as you touched the fabric. “I thought you’d want something soft and easy,” his nervous mumbling was endearing as you stood from the bed with his help, gripping onto his forearms as he let you use him to gain strength standing.

“It’s perfect, Sho,” you managed a smile, “I’m gonna get changed, I’ll meet you outside in a couple of minutes?” He nodded and took his stuff, leaving the room with the quiet sliding of the door before a soft click sounded. You pulled out the dress and pulled it over your head, the silken fabric falling to your mid-calf and in the bottom of the bag you noted some all-black slip-on canvas shoes. It was small things like this that made you smile so much - this was similar to the outfit you picked out the first day you met Shoto officially, the day you ran into each other that started this relationship. Being back in these clothes spread a wave of butterflies across your whole body and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.

You gathered the paperwork you were given, opting to leave the clothes you were rescued in - they were his any severing any connection to him seemed like the right thing to do. You didn’t want to wear or own anything that was ever his. You stepped out of the room to see Shoto pacing a little, smiling when he saw you exit and extending his hand for you to take. You gladly did, allowing him to pull you closely into his side as he led you out of the clinic and into a waiting company vehicle. You were thankful for the blacked-out windows of the SUV, finding the brightness of the sun uncomfortable, as well as the sight of anyone’s eyes lingering on you too long. Shoto leaned away from you for a second before pulling out your cellphone from his pocket.

“I cleaned it of everything that you didn’t already have on it,” Shoto’s words hooked into your skin. Nothing you didn’t already have on it? So Dabi did use your phone for something.

“Did Dab-” you couldn’t manage to say his name. “Did he send you... I know he took photos, Sho, did he-” you couldn’t get your thoughts out, afraid of the answer.

“Would knowing the truth help you right now?” He asked, simple.

“Yes,” you answered back, barely a whisper. “I think it would.”

“Yes,” he answered back. “He sent me some taunts over text, as well as photos and videos of you in compromising positions. There are no existing copies of the photos or videos, they were briefly used by the detectives to gather location information from the backend of the photos, but those were confirmed deleted, and they were observed during their investigation to ensure nothing slipped through the cracks,” Shoto was clinical in his answer to you which you appreciated. You didn’t want to be babied at this moment. You just gave a brief nod before leading your body into Shoto, he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer into his side as the car took you both back to your apartment.

Once arrived Shoto followed you up, asking to enter first just in case anything was missed by the detectives as he scanned your apartment for signs anyone but you had been inside, deeming it good enough for you to come further into your apartment. Shoto watches as your eyes moved around the familiar space with uncertainty, he wanted to hold you in his arms and take you back to his home, but he knew that wasn’t what you wanted.

“I can stay on the couch if you like,” Shoto offered, met with your shaking head and sad smile.

“I appreciate it Shoto, so much,” you assured him, leading him back to the door. “Text me when you get home safely yeah? I think I’m going to shower, have some tea and try to get some sleep.” You lent up on your tippy toes to place a soft peck on Shoto’s lips, and he hummed against the kiss, pressing into you for a second longer before you pulled away. “Thank you for fighting for me, Sho, we can talk more tomorrow, okay?” He simply nodded, giving the hand he had clasped around yours a soft squeeze as he left out your door, and down to the waiting car.

You let yourself stand in your entryway for some time after Shoto left. Letting the silence of your apartment settle into your bones before you finally decided to move to your bathroom, stripping the dress from your body as you looked in the mirror. There was a faint healed white scarring in the shape of two large handprints still beneath your bust, the sight made you physically ill.

Something new to get used to.

You fell back into your normal routine, taking your time to pamper yourself in the shower and stepping out into the steam, wrapping yourself in a fresh, fluffy towel before crossing the hallway into your room. You went into a familiar drawer and pulled out an old t-shirt and shorts. Everything was so familiar to you but felt so far away... so foreign. You fell into your bed, pulling up the covers as you drifted off into a dreamless sleep, having forgotten all about your tea or waiting up for Shoto’s text.

Back in the SUV, Shoto was feeling relieved but couldn’t stop the anxious jump of his leg. He wanted to stay with you, wanted to soothe the sharp edges of your experience and talk things over with you. He wanted to be there for you, but he also respected your wishes to be alone and reset in your own space. He finally resigned himself, sitting back in the seat as his body relaxed more. He would ask to see you tomorrow, and you could start from there. Just when he was nearly lost in a daydream his phone began to vibrate, going to pick it up thinking it was you until he saw his dad’s number. Shoto hesitated, almost not picking up before he just pressed answer and put the phone to his ear.

“Endeavor,” Shoto’s voice was a flat monotone as he waited for the reason for the late-night call.

“Shoto there’s an issue,” Endeavor hurried out, “the guards at the holding facility with Touya said he’s no longer there, there was some ectoplasmic sludge left in his wake - the detective thinks it was one of Twice’s clones.” Shoto didn’t hesitate to scream at the driver to take him back to your apartment, his father’s loud voice screaming from the receiver for him as he hung up the call. Shoto wasted no time in trying to call you with no answer. He shot you a text to call him as soon as you got his message and kept trying to call you again.

A harsh banging on your door jolted you from your sleep. You blinked a few times, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you noticed your clock saying it was only about forty minutes from when you first laid down. The banging continued until you got up, shuffling to your front door before peeking through the peephole but seeing no one. An acrid smell assaulted your nostrils and you saw a grey haze that had you worried there was a fire, and someone had just come down the hallways warning everyone. You pulled your door open to find the hallway empty and no obvious signs of a fire, no one was making a fuss and there wasn’t an alarm. It was when you went to shut your door that your blood ran cold - there on your door was a blackened handprint, still steaming and hot to the touch. You slammed your door shut quickly, locking the deadbolt and the knob as you stumbled back from the door. You turned around and ran to your room, hearing the chime of your cellphone before it quickly cut off.

You froze in the doorway, in the dimness of your room there was a brilliant electric blue light - flame - and an unmistakable silhouette with your cellphone to his ear, a familiar voice chilling you to the core as goosebumps spread across your body.

“Sorry little brother,” Dabi couldn’t hide the jovial tone, each word punctuated with a bit of laughter. “Our little sister can’t come to the phone right now.”

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livelaughtouya · 2 years ago

Text

Confession // Touya x Reader

Warnings: Not proof read

Word Count: 1,442

The low hum of instrumental music filled the kitchen as Rei, Fuyumi, and you worked in the kitchen preparing food for the weekly Todoroki family dinner night. You had been attending them since you were ten. Even though you did not bear their last name, you were Fuyumi’s oldest and dearest friend. When the two of you were children you had spent every moment outside of school in their home. Rei looked at you as if you were her own child. Loved you just as much as she loved her own daughter. It only felt right to include you in their family tradition even as you went into adulthood. So here you were helping chop produce as you and Fuyumi caught her mother up on all the drama that went on at the elementary school the two of you worked at.

“Tell her about the hot single dad that keeps begging to take you out,” Fuyumi snickered as she chopped a carrot. You responded with a roll of your eyes before turning back to the sink to wash what she needed to cut.

“I think it might be good for you. You deserve to have some fun,” Rei encouraged with her soft smile. You were about to reply until you heard a voice cut in from the doorway.

“She has enough fun here.”

Todoroki Touya. The boy you had been in love with since the day you stepped foot in the Todoroki mansion as a child. He wasn’t the same bad mouthed, white haired little boy anymore. Now he towered over you, covered in tattoos and piercing with black hair that made his turquoise eyes burn even brighter. The childhood crush carried well on into your teenage years and even now there was no doubt in your brain that you viewed the eldest Todoroki child as the most attractive man you have ever laid your eyes on.

“Oh quit being jealous Touya,” Fuyumi scoffed, waving the sharp knife as she scolded her brother.

“Not jealous. She gets a boyfriend, she isn’t gonna be coming around much anymore,” he replied with a shrug before walking over to kiss his mother on the temple as a greeting.

“Not true. I have spent the last twelve years here. If you think that I would give up tradition for some DILF then you’re an idiot,” you argued. You watched his eyebrow twitch as you used the vulgar term to describe the dad that wanted to take you out. He was quick to turn away from you and his sister before Fuyumi could poke fun at him. He simply muttered something and walked out of the room letting you and the other two women get back to preparing dinner.

—-------

Touya had a scowl on his face as he sat across from you. His sudden sour attitude confused you, but you refused to let it bother you. Instead you listened to Shouto tell you about his friends at school and Natsuo talk about all the girls he has been chasing at his university. You nearly choked on your wine as he started talking about his sex life.

“Oh come on, Y/N! I know you’re not a virgin,” he argued with a chuckle. Before you could have replied, everyone jumped at the sound of Touya’s wine glass shattering in his hands. All eyes turned to him as he stared at the red liquid spreading across the table.

“Touya, are you okay?” Rei’s gentle voice cut through the tension. He slowly raised his eyes to his mother’s before letting his head nod.

“Sorry. Glass must have a crack,” he defended before picking up a napkin to soak up the mess. Once he cleaned it up, he stood to his feet muttering an excuse to go back to his room.

“You should go check on him,” Fuyumi whispered from beside you, nudging her elbow into your side gently. You looked at her with confusion splayed across your face. “Shouto and Natsuo are gonna clean up the table while mom and I wash dishes. That leaves you on Touya duty. Plus he’ll just be mean to everyone, but you and mom,” she explained, trying to convince you to rise to your feet to deal with Touya.

Reluctantly you got up and let your legs lead you up the stairs to Touya’s room. You knocked on the door, hoping that it was hard enough for him to hear over the music he had playing in his room. There was no answer. Slowly you turned the knob, pushing the door open before calling out his name gently. His bed was unmade, but he wasn’t there. Your eyes scanned the room, looking around for any sign of where he went. Once they landed on the closed bathroom door you could see steam billowing out from the gap between it and the floor. You should have known he was in the shower after being coated in wine.

For a moment you debate on knocking on the bathroom door. Your feet move slowly to the closed door. You jump when you see it swing open to expose Touya, standing there in nothing, but a towel hung lowly on his hips. Your eyes drift to his torso, scanning the tattoos that litter it, stopping on one.

“Is that my name?” you blurt out, staring at the red ink that radiated off of his pale skin. His hand was quick to cover it.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” he scoffs, looking at you like you’re crazy. Your hands are quick to reach for his own to pry it off of his ribs. He keeps it clamped down not wanting you to get another glimpse of the permanent marking on his skin.

“If you didn’t know what I was talking about you wouldn’t be putting up this much of a fight,” you grumble as the two of you continue to play tug of war with his body. A gasp left your lips as you felt your feet coming from underneath you as you and Touya fell onto the white tile. Touya let out a groan from under you as you went to quickly get up noticing you had fallen on his naked body. Instead you had strong arms pulling you back down. A smirk was on his face as your eyes moved to his.

“Do you wanna see it?” he asked in a low voice. You nodded slowly as you pushed your hands up so you could straddle him and moved your hand to where he covered the tattoo with his. You gently moved his hand away so you could get a look at his skin.

It was your name in red ink with a small heart beside it. Your fingers traced it tenderly as if too much pressure would make the marks fade.

“Why?” you asked with a voice barely above a whisper.

“Because I love you.” His tone was so casual. It was as if he was telling you the upcoming weather for the next few days. A small smile spread across your face before you looked back to him.

“Tou-”

“I have loved you since you were the snot-nosed little girl with a ponytail that would smack me in the face when you turned around. I have loved you since you were a brace face cry baby. Hell, I even loved you when you told me my Gengar tattoo was the ugliest thing you had ever seen.” The last part of his rant made you snort as you thought back to 16 year old Touya running into Fuyumi’s room to show off the poorly done tattoo on his wrist.

“Is this why you were so pouty about the dad?” you interrogated with an amused tone.

“I wasn’t pouty. I was more annoyed at the thought of you actually giving the time of day to some dude that clearly couldn’t love you the way you deserve.”

“No, you were jealous.” Touya just scoffed, shaking his head making water droplets fling off of his hair. His hands rested on your plush hips as he thought of a come back to redeem himself for being caught. Before he could you leaned down and pressed your soft lips on his. You could feel a smile spread across his face as your lips met and his hands trailed up your back to rest on the nape of your neck. The two of you pulled away slowly and happiness showed in his eyes as you laced your fingers into his.

“I have loved you too, Touya,” you admitted before leaning back down to press kisses onto his damp skin.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #touya x reader #touya todoroki

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emjiroki · 9 months ago

Text

Chapter Four

Prince Shoto Todoroki x Court Lady Reader

“Where is my grandmother’s necklace? I’m not being presented without it,” Fuyumi was nearly frantic as the time for her entrance drew closer and closer. Her cheeks were flushed and you could only hope that she wouldn’t start to sweat.

“Right here my lady,” You confirmed, retrieving the gold and sapphire necklace from her jewelry box that one of the servants had brought downstairs earlier. From the moment you had kissed Shoto goodbye this morning and then went to awaken the princess, the day had been busy, barely even a moment to breathe, the corset of the dress Fuyumi had presented to you this afternoon not making it any easier. The silk material was finer than anything you had ever worn before, the dark blue shining like shades of midnight, a special gift for you from Fuyumi crafted by a seamstress couple in the capital city. To say you had shed a tear or two would be an understatement. You had practically been Fuyumi’s shadow that day, but everything that needed to be done was done and now the grand moment was only at most an hour away.

You saw the relief flood her face, a shaky sigh of relief bringing her shoulders down as you moved behind her to clasp the chain. Fuyumi ran her fingers across the necklace, delicately grazing the gold and jewels with shaking hands. You wanted to bring her some comfort, words of encouragement to seal her walls from crumbling but you couldn’t find a thing to say, instead laying a hand against her shoulder. Her dark eyes looked back at you from the mirror as if she were searching for something in your reflection.

“Do you have everything you need?”.

You nodded stiffly as your heart sank into your stomach. This had been the last thing you wanted to discuss right now, you hadn’t wanted to be reminded of it at all, the impending heartbreak of escaping into the night like a ghoul to try and make a new life for yourself making you sick to your core. But you were staying steady, Fuyumi needed you to be strong for her now, as much as you needed to be strong for yourself as well. A sharp knock at the door stole your reply, stomach instantly sinking as the Queen entered followed by her own two court ladies.

“Guests are still pouring in but the Prince just arrived,” Rei said with a bright smile, looking down at her daughter with a fond smile, “you look absolutely beautiful Fuyumi, this will be a perfect match”. Her dark eyes flicked down to Fuyumi’s bodice before turning to you swiftly.

“Go upstairs and get the brooch I bought for her, why isn’t it in her jewelry box already?”. She waved you away dismissively, the curl of her lip displaying her disgust. You fought any kind of reply away and just left the room, cheeks heating in irritation. You could already hear the string quartet playing softly from the Great Hall and the low murmuring chatter of guests. Could practically feel the energy vibrating through the floors. The rest of the castle was quiet, the only busy place being the kitchen, which you could gratefully avoid, and head to Fuyumi’s room. Candlelight from the wall-mounted lanterns cast rippling shadows along the hallway, the curtains pulled tight to the windows to guard against the starlight and the almost too-cool air of the broaching fall. You were thankful her bedroom door wasn’t locked so you wouldn’t have to worry about getting your dress dirty retrieving the key. The brooch was set aside almost deliberately on the vanity, the soft ivory cameo overlaying a black onyx stone and the silver backing spiraling around the edges like lace. It was truly a beautiful piece but it had been one of many gifts that the King and Queen had given Fuyumi in the last few days, just another thing to appease her she had said with a solemn sigh. You hoped so very much that she would find peace in her new life, that this prince would whisk her away and give her everything she deserved. With the items in hand, you exited the room; nearly jumping from your skin when you came face to face with the King’s guard Captain Keigo, his ochre eyes regarding you suspiciously.

“What are you doing up here? Aren’t you supposed to be downstairs getting the princess ready?” He commented, peering over your shoulder as if looking for something. Or someone.

“The Queen instructed me to retrieve the princess’s brooch,” You said with a furrowed brow, confusion evident in your tone and through your eyes. He relaxed a bit, though keeping his chin high, and fixed you with a hard stare.

“I’ll escort you back, don’t need any detours”

“I’m fully capable of making it back on my own, thank you,” You said respectfully but firmly, you were getting more nervous by the minute.

“I’ve been instructed not to let you out of my sight,” He said cooly, reaching to take your wrist in his hand.

“If you want to keep that hand attached I suggest lowering it and stepping away from her” Shoto’s tone was dark, sending a shot of adrenaline through you when you noticed him over Keigo’s shoulder standing at the top of the stairs.

“I’m doing what the King has told me to do,” Keigo said, looking away from you and allowing you time to move around him and go to where Shoto was.

“And I’m telling you, try anything again and I’ll cut your throat open, Hear me?”. His expression was murderous, the glint in his eyes begging for blood. The blonde seemed to weigh his options, betting on how serious Shoto actually was, and eventually made the smartest decision of not testing him. He made a small sound in the back of his throat, like he was noting something of interest, and walked past both of you to descend the stairs.

“Are you alright?” Shoto asked you, his voice turning soft as he turned his gaze to you, checking carefully for any thread out of place.

“You showed up just in time actually,” You sighed, taking a shaking breath, “I really was just doing what your mother asked”. Demanded was more like it.

“I know, I’ll escort you back,” He said, not making any movements, only tracing you with his eyes as if memorizing every part of this moment, “You are an absolute vision of beauty”. Your cheeks burned as his hand caressed your cheek, drawing you closer with fingers against your jaw.

“Kiss me”. It was the same demand you had made that morning, his voice breathy as if this request was his last line of life. You pressed your lips together before his next inhale, your knees shaking as he gasped and pulled you even closer, still careful to not mess up the dress and your makeup. You wanted more, to clutch him closer, hold him longer, and never turn this moment into memory but you knew time was running thin. Pulling away from him he sighed, an almost dejected but understanding look in his heterochromatic eyes. His right hand was strangely cool, but you held it close anyway for the short time it took you to get back to the hall. Shoto paused a few paces away from the door but you continued forward, taking one last squeeze of his fingers before going back into the room.

You were helping Fuyumi attach the brooch to her dress when Shoto knocked on the door, deliberately taking a few extra minutes to dispel suspicion.

“Good you’re here, how is everything out there?” Rei asked as Shoto shut the door behind him.

He shrugged, “Guests are mingling, the prince’s arrival caused quite a buzz but everything is going as planned”. The Queen clapped her hands excitedly with a wide, pleased smile.

“Excellent, Excellent, everything is going just as we planned” She chirped, turning Fuyumi by her elbow to get a look at the brooch, “Does everyone remember their places?”. How could anyone forget? She had been keeping everything on a precise schedule. You fanned out Fuyumi’s dress, checking once more to make sure the brooch was attached fully. You could hear the quartet begin playing the song you had heard more times than you could count over the last few days and knew the time had come. You could hear the crowd quiet till only the music could be heard floating along the floor.

“Deep breathes your grace,” You said as you stepped up next to Fuyumi, her eyes slightly widened and her hands trembling ever so slightly. She nodded, stealing a shaky breath in through her nose and out through her mouth as the doors opened. The ballroom was filled with a large crowd, Royals and Noble men and women lining the walls and the doorways and around the main floor after they were cleared away to make room for the engagement party. The music hit a soft crescendo as Shoto made his way through the ballroom with this guard Inasa in procession, going up to the throne to stand next to his father as the guard stayed next to the edge of the wide stairs with the others. The Queen and her consorts came out next to lead the Princess's procession as they announced her arrival.

“Now Presenting, Princess Fuyumi Todoroki” King Enji announced to the room, all heads and pairs of eyes on her as you fanned out her dress once again to glide across the floor. The room was dead quiet as the music seemed to absorb the moment, a collective breath being held as if she had the entire room enchanted. But as much as you wanted to focus on her, your eyes were immediately drawn to Shoto. He looked so resplendent, the gold threadwork displaying the coat of arms for the Todoroki family glimmered so brightly against the deep crimson of his cloak, his hair smoothed back despite the discomfort you knew he had about his scar. You had heard the whispers about how “it was such a shame about that scar, marring his handsome face” but you thought it only made him all the more beautiful, strong, and resilient. You bowed politely to the Prince, a handsome man with deep blue hair who thankfully wasn’t much older than Fuyumi if any at all, and squeezed her hand once more before stepping away to take your place on the second step where the Queen had instructed you to stay. Until you felt a soft hand brush your fingertips and pull delicately at the sleeve of your gown. Shoto let go and took your hand then, moving you up to stand beside him next to the King, in front of an entire country's worth of people. You didn’t dare look at the King or Queen, feeling their eyes glowering into the back of your head. You didn’t need to see the confusion, disdain, and shock on their faces. You stood quietly next to Shoto, his hand gripping yours as you watched Fuyumi and the Prince begin their first dance, her dress smoothing like dark midnight across the floor as he spun her with a bright smile etched across their faces. How happy they looked together even after only knowing each other for a few minutes. The sound of Fuyumi’s trilling laugh made your heart feel warm and brought a smile to your face. The audience of captivated Royals erupted in applause as their first dance drew to a close, the music picking up a different tempo and dragging others onto the floor. Shoto continued to hold your hand as he moved in front of you, bowing deeply before bringing your hand to his lips.

“May I have this dance, my lady?” He asked, his eyes full of something so warm it heated your cheeks.

“I would be honored, your grace,” You said with a soft smile, giddy butterflies fluttering in your stomach and up your chest. You would enjoy tonight to the fullest. To hell with the King and Queen tonight, to all the titles and royal bloodlines. Now that everything you could do for Fuyumi was done, maybe it was time to have a bit of a selfish moment of your own.

“Shoto” the King’s voice rumbled behind you, his reprimanding tone evident. You turned to see the Queen’s hand resting on the King’s arm, seemingly trying to keep him in his seat.

“Father” Shoto replied, ice heavy in his voice. The moment was tense, so different from the frolicking atmosphere of the rest of the room. Enji’s eyes were hard as stone as stared down his youngest son, Shoto not withering in the slightest.

“Shoto, Y/n, coming to dance?” Fuyumi’s voice called above the crowd and the music, breaking the tension like glass. Her face showcased her worry and irritation.

“Yes, they are,” Rei commented, squeezing Enji’s arm a little and turning her face to his, “Aren’t they?”. Enji looked at her and seemed to read something in her gaze, settling back against the throne without another word. You didn’t miss the snake-like smile that pulled at the corners of Rei’s lips though, her dark eyes filled with venom. But you turned away, not wanting the night and the moment to be poisoned, tomorrow and the days following would come no matter how you tried to stop it. Maybe letting tonight be what it is was the smartest course of action. Shoto held your hand tightly as he guided you onto the floor, immediately sweeping you into his arms and holding you close.

“I told you I would ask you to dance,” He said, all the joy he was feeling spilling forth from his smile and infecting you easily.

“You always seem to make good on your promises, your grace” You addressed him teasingly, rewarded with an amused snort.

“I always will, my love” He replied, spinning you out with the tempo of the music before curling you back into him, keeping one hand against your waist and the other grasping your left hand. It was like a dream dancing and spinning about the floor with him, all other guests and problems forgotten as you moved as one, feeling as if even your heartbeats had synchronized and the very air in your lungs the same. How badly you wanted to kiss him when he pulled you in close, a matching heat in his gaze when you caught each other staring at the other's lips. The feeling of his hands holding you so tight and close sent heat flowing through your body, barely keeping from stumbling. The quartet was finishing their fourth song when Shoto linked your arm with his and exited the dancefloor, walking with you over to the open balcony to get a breath of fresh air, the night cool and sending goosebumps up your arms despite the sleeves. The wind was blowing lightly through the trees, branches whispering like they were sharing secrets, and clouds rushing across the rising moon.

“Runaway with me tonight,” Shoto remarked, not taking his eyes off the stars twinkling in the dark sky. You opened your mouth to speak but resigned yourself to closing it, knowing it wouldn’t change his mind no matter what you said.

“Just for tonight,” He asserted, turning to you and resting a hand against your cheek, “I want you all to myself tonight”.

#prince shoto todoroki #prince shoto todoroki x court lady reader #royal au #em writes ✍#shoto todoroki #em talks 👄

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