#i didn't even realize it was hydrogen peroxide that I was smelling.

[sorairoknife]

The weirdest thing that happened to me while reading fsn is that when Leysritt appeared onscreen —not Sella, specifically Leysritt — I'd feel a smell of hydrogen peroxide so strong it would actually make me nauseous, but it would dissapear as soon as her sprite left the screen

[gophergal]

YO- This chapter is complete. Consider it an XMas gift for yall. OH and thanks to @bucketofcowboys for being an amazing beta <3

I’m Not Lonely - Chapter Four

Word count: 3000+| Rating: M |  Michael Myers x OC | M/F

WARNING: Implied Sexual Themes, Implied Gore, Implied Animal Death

The cleanup had been hellish. Michael, to his credit, had dragged the dog carcass outside, hopefully where it wouldn't be found by it's poor owner. After that, he mostly stayed out of Jean's sight as she cleaned the blood from the floor and walls, potentially for his own safety. She grumbled under her breath, scrubbing a bit harder than necessary in her anger. It got the job done. Her bed sheets, however couldn't be saved even with the power of baking soda and hydrogen peroxide. She calmed her fuming mind with the promise that a dark color of dye, probably black, would hide the rust colored stains. That didn't change the fact that she no longer had lovely white sheets, unfortunately. After the cleaning was finished with, she was eager to collapse into her bed, but decided ultimately that a shower would be needed. She dragged herself into the hot water, tension melting out of her muscles.

A sigh left her lips as she slid down to sit on the shower floor, eyes screwed tightly shut as she became lost in thought. She now had all the proof she would need about what, and who, he was. I can't keep doing this. He- he killed the sheriff's daughter. She shivered a bit in spite of the hot water that fell over her body. Gritting her teeth, she scrubbed her skin with the same force she used on the walls. No amount of soap was making her feel clean as she thought about the man. I have to do something, she told herself, even if it kills me. Pulling on a comfortable set of sleep clothes, she left the bathroom. From her vantage point over the stair railing, she could see Michael sitting in the dark, the moonlight that streamed in through the window allowing her to see his hazy form like that of a dream. He was bare faced, looking at a picture frame that he held in his rough hands. She could almost swear that his face bore a saddened expression, though the darkness obscured the finer details of him.

A sudden jolt of energy clawed up her spine as she saw him turn slightly. She retreated to her room; silently pressing the door closed. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Why? She wasn't even sure he'd seen her. Hadn't given him the chance. Why, then, was her body on high alert? She ran a shaky hand through her hair, coming to a realization. She was a mouse in her own home, hunted by a the cat that lay in her living room. It was only a matter of time before the hungry claws of that cat snatched her up. The lock clicked reassuringly when she turned it. Jean breathed a sigh of relief, legs giving weakly under her as she sank down to the floor. Her throat felt like it was constricting, cutting off her breath. She allowed herself a few moments to recompose herself and clear her mind. She crawled into her bed and, despite the anxiety digging into her mind she drifted into the black void of unconsciousness.

Dreams came in flashes. No more than a flicker here and there. Sensations, smells, sounds. Nothing to put a visual to. A hand on her throat, the grip painful and suffocating. The coppery smell of death hanging in the air. Heavy breathing, muffled. She should've been terrified upon waking up. Should've, but wasn't. Instead, she squirmed uncomfortably with the recognition of her arousal and the slick feeling in left between her legs. This vague nightmare had a... certain effect on her. She blamed the circumstances that surrounded her, and Jo's near constant meddling in her non-existent love life putting these filthy ideas in her head.

One cold shower later had Jean padding quietly down the stairs. She scanned the living room for Michael, finding nothing. Instead, he sat in his usual chair at the dining table in the kitchen. He looked at her expectantly, mask somewhat skewed on his face. She nodded to him and continued toward the stove in hopes of getting their breakfast made. She was suddenly jerked back by the wrist, nearly losing her footing as she was whipped back toward the table. One of Michael's broad hands grasped her arm, almost gently. If gentle was a word that could be applied to him, that is. He did nothing, simply looked at her from behind the black pits of the mask's eye-holes. She settled in for the moment, searching his body language for some clue of what to do. At some point, he seemed satisfied, the grip loosening slowly until his rough fingers ghosted over her skin. She shivered. Withdrawing her arm, she continued to her destination, the feeling of his fingertips still present the entire time she cooked.

The events of the previous night replayed behind her eyelids every time she blinked. The viscera of the poor dog who'd been displayed in her living room didn't bother her as much as she thought it should, not as this memory. She also couldn't find the fiery anger she had for Michael the night before. The anger just fizzled where the fuse ended. Just short of the target. She should be mad. She knew that. Instead, her mind drifted to the hand that rested on her arm. On her throat. Strong and wide. Somehow gentle when he wanted it to be. Warmth twisted in her chest as she willed away the thoughts of what else those hands could do on her body. Roaming. Grabbing at her flesh. Teasing. Making her-

“Fuck!” she hissed, cradling the hand that had been burned on the hot pan. The angry red mark mocked her, but did not blister. Good, that was something, at least. A latex covered head tilted at her. Thank fucking god mind readers weren't real. Stupid pent up sex drive. With a plate in front of both of them, she could sit and calm her nerves. She ran a hand through her hair, looking up to see Michael fidgeting a bit. Hands clenching and un-clenching, the joints flexed against the table. Finally seeming to make his choice, he pulled the mask up slightly, only his mouth exposed. A sound caught in Jean's throat as she stared at his sculpted lips, the corners subtly down turned in a Mona Lisa smile. She beat any more inappropriate thoughts back with a stick. Now was not the time.

It was like that for a few more days. The mess went unmentioned. Jean wrestled with her carnal desires. There were more gentle touches, a brush of skin, or simply Michael grabbing her to take a look. Let go when he was satisfied. Michael... did whatever the fuck it was he did of a day. Jean had no idea. Aside from when he was quite literally breathing down her neck, watching her cook, leave for work, or sit while she read, she often lost track of him. Not that she was his keeper, of course. She just thought about him. Constantly, like a hum in the back of her brain. It was distracting. She'd made more mistakes at work than usual. Nothing major, just small things that started to add up. Jo pulled her aside for a break during a slow moment. The door had barely closed when the normally bubbly woman turned to Jean, “Okay, spill.”

“What?”

“Come on, Jean,” she said with a huff, lip pouted in annoyance, “something's on your mind. Your head's in the clouds and I gotta know what's got you like this.”

“Nothing! I'm just tired. You know how that is,” Jean said, cursing her inability to make eye contact with her friend. Jo stood with her arms crossed, an eyebrow raised in an I-know-that's-bullshit stare

“Uh huh.”

“I'm serious.”

“Of course.”

“Jo-o,” Jean dragged the syllable out, eyes pleading. Jo, however, had that usual determined and inquiring look about her. Her stare was sharp and uncomfortable. Jean swore that Jo should become a journalist with her ability to make people talk. She had to have worked in a dungeon in a past life given how torturous her eyes could be. That or Jean was just weak willed. It was probably the later.

“Je-ean,” she mocked.

“Fine. I'm, well, it's just- I'm... frustrated. Confused? Hell if I know,” Jean bit down on the inside of her cheek, comforting herself with the grounding pain.

“Yeah? Go on. Maybe I can help!” Jo's smile was genuine, as was her concerned tone. It probably wouldn't hurt to tell her a little bit.

“There's someone in my life. I haven't known him for very long and we met under some strange circumstances. Even when he's right next to me, I don't know where I stand with him. He's the strong, silent type, y'know?”

“You met someone? And he's part of your life? Aw, c'mon, Jean! You should have let me know earlier!”

“Wait- it's not like that! We're not together. It's a difficult situation. More than you could ever know,” she put up her hands defensively, quickly regretting her wording. Jo pouted at her like a puppy.

“How so? What's so difficult? If you want to fuck him, you should just ask. Or test the waters if you don't want to come off so strong. Just- cast your net and see if you catch anything. No harm in it.”

“Jesus Christ, Jo,” She sputtered, gears in her brain whirring, “that is so not what this is about. I don't want to fuck him. Not that I haven't thought about it... often... That's not my point though! I wouldn't even be considering it if you weren't so interested in my lack of sex life.”

“How is that my fault?!” Jo exclaimed. Jean faltered. She stumbled for words to explain her point, but soon found herself at a loss. Jo's smug look didn't help either. She groaned, frustration growing stronger by the minute.

“Listen, Jean, if you need me, you know where I am. I can help you figure out your relationship problems, but only if you want helped. I can see that's not the case though, so just take it easy, ok? See where things go. Heh, maybe all that frustration can turn spicy,” she said with a giggle, opening the door and stepping through, leaving Jean alone with her thoughts and frustrations.

Michael wasn't home when she got there.. He was off and gone somewhere again, she didn't want to think about what that could mean for anyone else out there. Hands shaking, she hung up her coat. A cup of tea and some rest should calm me down, she assured herself. Her mind wouldn't stop though. She remember that dream and the conversation she had with Jo, then remembered who it had been about. An awful sick feeling began to form in the pit of her stomach. The dog flashed though her mind, its innards a mess on the floor. It morphed into the sheriff's daughter and bile threatened at the back of Jean's throat. Tea no longer held any appeal as she tried to push all the thoughts from her mind. To her dismay, they only continued, eventually bringing her back to the dream she had and the feelings it brought on. She felt like crying now though, but tears refused to fall. A sudden weight found itself in Jean's limbs. She had to sit down; her head was spinning. After plopping herself onto the soft cushions of the couch, she was taken by the darkness of sleep once again.

Michael moved through the shadows as if he were a ghost; silent and ethereal. Even entering the house couldn't break the silence. He made note that his host no longer locked her front door as she once had. Good. That would make his coming and going easier. Looking toward the couch where he often slept, he saw the aforementioned woman. Something about the way she lay there, her pretty face twisted in a gnarly expression, made him feel off in a way he couldn't describe. He drew near and, laying his large hand carefully on her cheek, felt how clammy she was. The usual instructions he would get from the Shape were a dull buzz in the back of his skull and he froze. With a hesitant quiver in his movements, he ghosted the rough pads of his fingertips down her jaw and vulnerable neck. Her face seemed to loosen its tightly wound muscles and she rolled partially onto her back, chest rising and falling heavily a few times. A small sound caught in the back of Michael's throat. His hand itched to move further down, especially to explore the softness of her chest. Instead, his fingers remained feather-light on her pulse point, enjoying the jumping blood beneath her flesh. A sound picked up in his ears, almost drowning out the dull ringing in his head. He stiffened, thinking it was something in the room with him before coming to the realization that it was his own heartbeat, fast and thrumming in his veins. There was a moment when he believed she would wake up, ending the moment early. Though she didn't, he pulled his hand away, then threw a thin blanket loosely over her sleeping form.

Jean felt shame every time she looked at Michael. Ignoring him wasn't much of a choice as the air grew colder and he left less. It was suffocating to be around him at times. The buzzing thoughts caused a heavy fog to settle in her brain. She even struggled to keep up appearances when speaking to Jolene, who had obviously started to catch on that something was very wrong. Jo tried to open that dialogue a couple times during late shifts, but didn't push. It reminded Jean of the time in middle school when her mother had sat her down for a talk about romance, sex, and keeping her legs closed. As much as I have always loved you, Jean, I want something better for you than raising a baby by yourself when you're still little more than a child yourself. Grandpa's talk had been a little less emotional and boiled down to the essentials: find someone you love who respects you, dumplin', if he don't you should have nothing to do with him. She tried to imagine the sort of graphic details Jo would add in, probably a mix of her own personal experience about the men she'd been with and encouragement to do the same. That line of thought was probably a bad choice as she took her break in the back, shivering against the rapidly dropping temperatures of late-November air, though she'd have a good excuse about the flush of her cheeks when she got back inside. She jumped when the back door opened, muscles tense with dread as she expected a frustrated Jo stalking over toward her like a cougar on the prowl. The person at the door cleared his throat.

“Oh, hey Gus. I'll be coming back in a second. Just needed some fresh air,” she said with a wave to the cook. He nodded in response, but chose to stand there in silence, letting heat escape from the kitchen. Finally, he sighed, letting the door close behind him in favor of closing the distance between them, then took a seat on the curb. The way his knees folded up to his chest looked equal parts uncomfortable and hilarious. She would have laughed, but instead the atmosphere made her squirm.

“Not to be presumptuous, but something's going on in your life, isn't it?” he asked, looking across the parking lot blankly.

“When isn't something happening in my life?”

“That doesn't really answer my question. You seem stressed and Jo's acting like a mother hen about it,” he said, voice still soft, yet laced with a don't think you can get out of this conversation, friend determination.

“Yeah, she does that. You know that,” she averted her eyes.

“Yellow isn't your color, Jean.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You're avoiding her and it's more than a bit cowardly. If you won't tell her what the problem, could you at least humor me? I know we're not as close as you and Jo are, but that might be better for getting this off your chest,” he said with a shrug.

“No offense, but why do you care?”

“It's not entirely selfless, I assure you. The tension between you two makes it really hard to find my happy place behind the grill. Kinda hard to think about what happened in the last episode of Battlestar Galactica when you two are dancing around some issue or another,” he said. Jean sighed.

“Fine. I just don't really know what to say about it, if I'm honest. Relationship trouble? We're not really in a relationship and that might be the trouble. I just can't-” her voice broke a bit as she struggled for words. Gus quieted her with a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“I think I get it, at least in part. Jo's too overbearing, I'll be sure to get her off your back for the time being. This sounds like something you need time to resolve on your own,” he said.

“Thanks, Gus.”

“It's no problem. And just know that if this guy hurts you, I'm willing to put him in his place.” Though he was a nice person, she knew he would. Being tall and broad made him the one to kick out patrons by default, after all.

“There's really no need!”

“I know, but I'm willing to fight for you. Jo too, but her husband is a good enough man that I only have to worry about the occasional gross patron,” he smiled.

“Thanks. I really mean that. It's about time to go back in though,” she told him, dusting off her skirt and offering him a hand.

Michael was asleep at the table when she got home. Looking at him, she often wondered how he could breathe comfortably in that awful rubber mask. There was little tension in his shoulders as they rose and fell with his chest. Peaceful. She took the throw blanket she kept on the couch and draped it over him with care before leaving to get ready for bed herself, casting a last look back to him as she flicked the lights off.

[hot-wiings]

The Chapter Contains Enji Todoroki. If this makes you triggered, or uncomfortable don't proceed.

Edited: 5-18-20

#1. I Love How You Patch Me Up. 

You let out a sigh as you dabbed Touya Todoroki's eyebrow with a cotton ball. He hissed as the hydrogen peroxide soaked ball of cotton made contact with his skin, burning him as it cleaned out the cut.

"Sorry."

"Just stings."

Touya watched you from the spot where he sat on the barstool. You pulled your lip between your teeth and he knew you were upset. Upset that you had to make him sit through the extra pain of cleaning out his cuts with ointment and peroxide. 

You weren't just upset, but livid. Livid that his father would hurt him like this. Livid that his mother didn't step up and protect him. Most of all, you were livid that she wouldn't even stay around to clean him up, but rather left him to patch himself up.

Your heart hurt for Touya, it truly did. You knew what it was like to have your father, a respected man, lay a hand against you—that's how you originally met Touya in the first place.

You were both in a local drug store looking for peroxide and medical materials, the same day with the same purpose and reasons. You both happened to reach for the same bottle as if fate intended for you to meet. You ended up helping him patch himself up that day.

You carefully pressed a bandaid over Touya's eyebrow cut before moving onto a new one. Your eyes briefly flashed down to his teal orbs before going back to your task at hand.

"Why'd he get so angry this time?"

"I told my parents I wanted to apply to UA. Enji told me I wasn't cut out to be a hero, I disagreed."

"And your mother? What did she say."

"She didn't say anything... But I know she agrees with him."

Your hand pressed down harder on Touya's cut. Sensing your anger, Touya pulled your hand from his cut cheek to his mouth. Ignoring the pain from his busted lip, he kissed your tense knuckles.

"I hate them so much. I hate how he treats you. I hate how she doesn't stop it. She doesn't even try!"

"Can you really blame her? If she intervened then my busted face would be hers. If he didn't hit me, he would be hitting her."

"That's not how a mother should act. A mother would step in, a mother would protect you. You protect her so much, but she has never done shit for you."

"How would you know? You don't even have a mother." 

His comment deeply bothered you, but you knew that it didn't come out of malice but rather a defense. It didn't make it hurt any less, however, you didn't retaliate with words but actions. 

With a tight smile, you soak a cotton ball in hydrogen peroxide and aggressively press Touya's lip with the substance. He winced, but he couldn't be mad. You would never hurt him on purpose, instead, you took out your anger by cleaning him up, something that you knew would hurt him but something that essentially needed to be done. 

"I'm sorry, that was mean." 

"It was."

"I just hate when you talk bad about her, she's not a bad person. He is, but she's not. She's sweet with Fuyumi and Natsou, it's just cause' I look so much like him. She thinks I'm just like him."

A tear falls down from Touya's pretty teal eyes. It dribbled down his cheek and mixed in with his cuts. You turned your own gaze to the ground, as you couldn't help but let a few of your own fall as well.

"You're not your father Touya." 

"You're right, I'm not my father. That's why it doesn't matter if I let him hurt me, cause' at least I know I'm not enabling a monster like him to hurt my mom."

Touya slips his arms around your waist and pulls you closer between his legs. He used his hand to tilt your chin up making you look him in the eyes as his other hand traced circles into the bare skin of your hip above your jeans.

"I wish we could just get away from them all." 

Touya let his head rest against your chest and he softy murmured into your skin as you ran your fingers through his bright orange locks.  

"One day I'm leaving and I'm not coming back. You'll come with me, right?"

Your lips quirked up into a small smile. You leaned your neck down and kissed the top of Touya's head.

"Of course. After all, you'd be hopeless without your unlicensed doctor."

"I think you meant my pretty, unlicensed doctor." 

Touya could still feel the heat from your kiss on his head, lingering and begging for more. It was then in that moment as you patched up his wounds that he realized how he really felt about you. He really wanted to say those three unspoken words, the words he was so cautious about handing out, but he didn't. Instead, he held his best friend and let her patch up his face. 

#2. I Love How You Won’t Let Me Go. (Even When I Push You Away.)

He knew what he was doing was horrible. He knew what he was doing was going to break your heart. He was doing the worst thing. It would be like stabbing you in the chest and twisting the knife. 

Touya Todoroki knew what he was doing would hurt you, but that didn't stop him from packing his bag with any essential items he would need. He knew it would hurt you, but that didn't stop him from discreetly leaving you a heartfelt goodbye letter in your mailbox before he headed off to school. 

He knew it would hurt you, but that didn't stop him from walking to the nearest bus stop right after school got out. He knew it would hurt you, but he still bought a ticket to the farthest destination anybody would look for him, a ticket he bought a week in advance from his departure date. 

He knew it would hurt, yet he still attempted to go through with it. What he hadn't expected was to see you standing there at the bus stop when he arrived. He hadn't expected to see you, arms crossed with a furious look spread across your face. 

"Were you really going to leave?" 

His eyes flowed from the scorned look of betrayal on your face down to your hand which held the letter he left in your mailbox. It was bunched up in your fist and your knuckles were white from clenching it so hard.

He could see the tears building up at your eyes, and his chest felt heavy with regret. He pulled on the arm straps of his backpack tighter. He was scared of hurting you. He was careful to choose his next words, wary of breaking you even more. 

"How did you even get from school to home to here so fast?" 

"Maybe if you hadn't been avoiding me like the black plague, you would've known that I was absent from school today." 

"Why were you absent? Did your father-"

"Don't. Don't ask about my father. You don't have that right, not after you broke your promise." 

The tears started dribbling down your cheeks and you looked up at the sky to avoid looking at him with your blurry tear-filled orbs. 

"You promised. You promised that you would take me with you. You said we’d escape our parents together… But you were going to leave without me. You weren't even going to give me an actual goodbye."

Your voice sounded quiet and simply broken. The tone you used with him was hurt and lifeless. He wished you would scream, he wished you would yell. Anything would be better than the broken tone you held. Anything would be better than the broken tone he caused. 

"How could I take you with me? I'd just be dragging you down."

Touya took a deep breath and closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself for the words he had to say to you. 

"You wanna know why I got so distant? My mom got put in a mental institute and our last conversation was her telling me I was gonna end up just like Enji. I can't be anywhere near you. I won't let myself treat you like he treats people." 

Touya made the motion to turn as his tears started to leak down his eyes. He started to turn away from you, letting his last words to you serve as a goodbye. You quickly grabbed onto his arm, stopping him and pulling him back. You would not let him go, not like this. 

“I'm not a good person, [Y/N], it's better if I just leave." 

"I will not let you walk away from me, I will not let you walk away from the past seven years. If you can look me in the eyes and truthfully say our friendship has meant nothing, that I have meant nothing to you, then I'll let you walk away." 

“That's not fair. I could never say that to you. I'm not leaving because of you. I'm leaving for you. For fuck's sake! If my own mother, my flesh and blood, couldn't love me then no one can. I'd just drive you insane.”

“That's bullshit! Cause' I love you, and I'll always love you." 

The thing you so belligerently tried to keep from your best friend was out in the open. You felt naked and vulnerable now that the words were out of your mouth.

"You love me?" 

His voice sounded so hesitant and scared of the answer. He looked at you but you were looking at the ground, scared to meet his eyes. You took a deep breath before divulging in the secret you kept so well. 

"You’re the reason I have the strength to wake up every day despite knowing what's in store with my dad. You make it worthwhile every day when I see you in school, you make me feel like I'm actually important. I love you, I've always loved you... And if you still want to leave despite knowing that, then just leave.”

Touya cupped your cheeks in his hands and tilted your face up, forcing you to look up at him. His hands on your cheeks felt warm, you wished for nothing more than to stay like that. 

“You always take time out of your day for me. Whether it's homework, an injury, or just to ask me about my day, you're there. You’ve never once got disgusted by my scars. I think I love you more than I value my own life and that scares me.”

Touya pressed his lips against yours. They felt warm and soft. You could smell his distinct scent of ash from his quirk. Words could not describe the way you loved the way ash smelt on him.   

“But I can't stay with a family who hates me. Come with me doll. Leave your shitty dad and come with me.”  

“Touya, I’d follow you to the ends of the earth if it meant being with you.”

#3. I Love How You Don’t Judge Me.

With a grocery bag in his hand, Touya unlocked the door to the dingy motel room you had been staying in together. It wasn't much, but it wasn't somewhere someone would think to look for the son of the famous hero Endeavor. It wasn't much, but you didn't care as long as he was with you. 

Touya locked the door behind him before walking further into the motel room and dropping the grocery bags at the foot of the bed where you laid reading a book. You looked up from your book and smiled at Touya. 

“Hey there.”

Touya leaned down to your face and pressed his lips against yours, giving you a quick chaste kiss. 

“Hi.” 

"What’d you get at the store?” 

“I got some instant ramen.”

“Same as yesterday, yummy.” 

You picked up the grocery bag and carried it to the tiny microwave that the motel had provided in every room. 

“Instant ramen in a rundown motel room. I'm sorry, I know it's not ideal.” 

You turned your head to the side to look at Touya. A smile played on your lips as you made eye contact with him. 

“I knew what I was signing up for when I came with you, besides, I like instant ramen.”   

You added water to the containers and popped the ramen inside the microwave before pressing on the right buttons to turn it on. Touya came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. He gave you another chaste kiss, this time on the side of your temple. 

“Will you dye my hair?”

“Really? I really like your orange hair.” 

You turned around in Touya's arms and looked him in the eyes to see if he was serious. It was so out of the blue, he had never had any interest in dying his hair before. As you ran your hands through his orange locks it wasn’t hard to guess what was going through his head. He was a spitting image of Enji. 

“I have a job interview tomorrow, but I don't wanna go to it like this. I don't wanna go to it looking like a younger version of him. I want a whole new identity.”

“I really like your orange hair, but I'll love you no matter what hair color you've got.”

You walked over to the second grocery bag Touya had brought home and pulled out the black hair dye. You ripped the box open as Touya took a seat on a wooden chair in front of you. You ripped open the powders and dumped the powdered dye into the liquid chemical bottle before placing a lid on it and shaking it up. 

“Tip your head back.” 

You ran your fingers through his hair and applied the dye thoroughly as you rubbed it in his roots. You made sure not to leave a single inch of orange hair untouched. 

You washed your hands and set a timer on your phone before retrieving your ramen bowls from the microwave and placing one in front of him and taking your place in the chair across from him. 

“Thank you, doll.”

“Of course babe. I just hope it takes to your hair well, orange hair can be unpredictable when dyeing. We might have to go to the store and get another box.” 

Touya sat there with you, happily eating away at the ramen you cooked for him. He wasn't sure how much time had passed when you asked the question he dreaded you asking. 

“What's the job interview for?” 

Touya bit down on his lip as he debated whether or not he should tell you. If he honestly told you what the job was, then you might get mad. On the other hand, he wanted to have an honest relationship with you. 

“It’s for a position in the league of villains.” 

You stared at him speechlessly as the timer went off on your phone. He wasn't sure what to make of your expression. You didn't look mad, or angry, but you didn't look happy or pleased either. Despite being best friends for most of your lives, Touya couldn't identify your expression. Not being able to tell what you were feeling made Touya nervous.  

“You should wash your hair.”

“[Y/N]-”

“Go wash your hair before it falls out!”

He knew you were angry. He thought you were. You had to be. So instead of staying to talk it out, he retreated to the bathroom to wash out the chemicals as you took a seat on the edge of the bed. Each minute that passed felt like years to the both of you. 

After what felt like a millennium, Touya emerged from the bathroom with a now black stained towel in his hand. You took a deep breath before smiling at your lover as he walked closer to you.

“You want to be a villain?” 

“I- I know you're upset and disappointed, but I can't be a hero. I can't be that heroic guy you want and need. You can judge me all you want, but I can't be that.”

“Oh, baby… I would never judge you.” 

You reached up and grabbed Touya by the sides of his head. With your thumbs, you wiped away the tears that had begun making their way down his cheeks and you gently pulled his face down to yours. Touya got on his knees and wrapped his arms around you as you cradle his face on your chest. 

“I’m not upset, or disappointed either. You want a new identity, I understand that. I literally just dyed your hair, I'll even help you pick a new name. I was just shocked to hear you say, villain.” 

“I can't be a hero [Y/N], they're so corrupt. I- I can't be someone like Enji. He was a hero and he was a bastard. I'm sorry if you hate me for this but I can't be someone like that.” 

“Hey, I said I wasn't gonna judge you, and that meant I wouldn't ever hate you either. It just scares me. Hero or villain, it's a risky occupation.”

You run your fingers through Touya's newly black damp hair. It felt nice to him and it did miracles to soothe his tears. There were countless times where he found himself in this exact spot growing up, usually after he and Enji had a fight. 

“It's a risky occupation. But hey, if you get to do something dangerous, then I can too.” 

“[Y/N].”

“If you're joining the villains, then I am too. Who else will bandage up your wounds properly? Somebody's gotta keep you alive.”

Touya pressed his lips against yours. This kiss wasn't a chaste one like earlier, but one of longing and want. It was filled with lust and passion and hunger. 

���Okay, we’ll do it together.” 

#4. I Love How You Reassure me. 

You sat on the closed edge of the toilet in your shared apartment as you stared down at the tiny thin stick in your hands. You were nervous and your whole body was tense as you stared at the stick with anticipation as you waited for the timer on your phone to go off.

Every passing minute felt like decades and with every passing second, the pounding of your heartbeat got faster. The timer beeped and you looked at the stick for the results. Two lines were present signifying positive. 

The tears sprang from your eyes. You weren't sure what the appropriate response should have been but the whole situation left you feeling overwhelmed. What kind of lifestyle would you be bringing a child into? You were a villain now, and although you worked for the league of villains in a more medical aspect, your lover, the father of the baby, held a big role for the league of villains. 

Occupations set aside, you weren't even married, nor did you and Dabi, the name Touya was going by these days, had much knowledge on how to raise a child. Yet the more you thought about how you carried something so precious in your womb brought a soft smile to your face. The more you thought of raising a child with Dabi, you felt better and more secure. 

You heard keys jingling in the apartment doorknob followed by the sound of boots coming in the doorway and you could soon hear Dabi's deep voice resounding throughout the house.

"Sweetheart? I'm home."

You started to panic as you heard him walk closer to the bathroom. Should you hide the test, or just tell it to him straight? There was a slightly unsettling feeling in your stomach that Dabi wouldn't be happy about the predicament, but you had an open and honest relationship with Dabi. 

The door to the bathroom was pushed open and Dabi made his way inside ready to scold you. 

"You're sick, you should be resting in bed." 

Being sick was just an excuse to take a day off from league work to slip away and buy your pregnancy test. To be fair, you were sick earlier due to morning sickness.

"I'm feeling better now, and, I uh, I have something for you." 

You looked at the ground and ran one hand through your hair nervously as you used your other hand to push the pregnancy test into his hand. He took it, not even realizing what it was. Not even realizing how that tiny stick would impact his life. It didn't take him long to realize what it was as he looked down at the pink stick with two red lines.

"This a pregnancy stick."

"Yeah." 

"Two lines. Is that positive?" 

"Well, I wouldn't be giving you a pregnancy test if it was negative, would I?"

Dabi numbly took a seat on the edge of the bathtub across from you. To Dabi, children were not in the life plan, he never even let himself entertain the thought of kids. Sure, you were financially better than when you first left home together, rather than bouncing from dingy motel to motel you lived in a nice apartment, but you were both barely over twenty-one, your career choice was villainy, not to mention you both never had the best example of what a parent should be. 

"It has to be wrong, we've been careful. You- you can't be pregnant."

Your eyes which had been trained on the floor finally looked up and met Dabi's orbs. You knew he might not want your baby, but you hadn't expected him to look so distraught and sick about it. 

"Well I am, and I'm not aborting. This child is a part of you and me, I won't abort them." 

"We can't raise a child." 

"I can raise a child, what you mean is that you don't want to raise a child together." 

"I didn't say I don't want to, I said I can't." 

A tear dribbled down Dabi's cheek. You pulled him off the edge of the bathtub, onto his knees with his head against your chest. His comfort space, the space he would always find himself crying as he grew up. You ran your hand through Dabi's raven dyed hair, your signature move to quell his tears. 

"I know what you're thinkin' and it's not true. You're not gonna be like him, you're not him."

"He's always going to be biologically a part of me. He was a shit dad and a shit husband. I don't wanna be like him."

"Just cause he's your dad, doesn't mean your gonna be like him. You're a good man and you'll be a great dad. You're not gonna hurt me, or this baby. You won't be like Enji." 

Dabi slid his head from your chest to your stomach. A smile made its way across his stapled face as he let himself entertain the domestic thought of having a family with you. 

"If we're having a baby then we might wanna look for a bigger apartment."

#5. I Love Everything You Create. 

Dabi leaned over the sleek black bassinet and peered down. His precious baby lay there sound asleep. She had trademark teal blue eyes like his, but your nose. although she looked very distinctly you, she had red hair from Dabi. Although it was very Todoroki like, he didn't care. He didn't care that it tied him to Enji because it also tied her to himself and you. She was his baby, his pride and joy. She was the greatest gift you could have given him. She was his and yours to cherish and love, he wouldn't give that up for anything.

The baby began to stir and Dabi hesitated as he looked at her. Sometimes she would just fall back to sleep, but today was not one of those days. Her little cries began to start and Dabi swooped her up into his arms. With her head against his shoulder, he carefully swayed her back and forth immediately quelling her cries.

She didn't fall back to sleep but she laid there quietly in his arms. She was just a little over a year old but she was already a daddy's girl.

"You hungry?"

Dabi smiled as he heard Akari's little excited gurgles and giggles. He carried her down to the kitchen and pulled out a container of baby food from the fridge. Before quickly tossing it in the microwave.

Dabi pulled Akari closer to his chest and away from his shoulder so he could move around and do things in the house while securely holding her. Akari, deciding she wants more attention, pulls her hands towards her father's face and yanks on one of his staples.

"Ah."

Dabi swiftly put Akari in her baby high chair before grabbing a towel and wiping his face to get rid of the small blood that came along with the staple.

"Da! Da!"

Dabi weakly smiled in his daughter's direction as to not worry or frighten her. This wasn't the first time she had pulled his staples out, but it didn't hurt any less with each time she did it. Once the bleeding let up Dabi tossed the towel on the counter and picked Akari back up, giving Akari the attention she was trying to get.

"You're daddy's little menace, aren't you? Huh?"

Akari giggled and buried her face in Dabi's neck, it sent a smile onto Dabi's face. She was so perfect and every second he spent with her he couldn't understand why Enji ever treated him and his siblings the way he had. When he held Akari all that came to his mind was how he would do anything to protect her. Her and you. All he could think about was how precious and special you both were to him.

"Why didn't you wake me?"

Dabi turned his head to the side to see you leaning against the doorway. Your head was all over the place due to bed head and you wore Dabi's oversized t-shirt and a pair of jogging pants. You looked completely frumpy but to Dabi, you were nothing less than perfect.

"I wanted to let you sleep in."

"I enjoyed the sleep, but I'd rather have been up with my lovelies."

You walked over to Dabi and Akari. You dipped your head down to hers and kissed her head before leaning up to kiss Dabi, you stopped midway as you saw his cheek. You brought your hand up and creased his cheek.

"Did she pull your staple out again?"

"Yeah. She's got a mean steak, I still think we should have named her Void."

You reached into the cupboard to pull out a bandaid to patch your lover up.

"Void is such a bad name, so was Winslow."

You took the wrapper off the bandaid and pressed it against Dabi's face. He gave you a soft smile as he placed his hand over your hand that was on his cheek.

"I'm glad you married me, you know that right? I know we did it cause' you were pregnant, but I wouldn't change it."

You pressed your lips against Dabi's briefly before pulling away and smiling at him.

"You and Akari are everything to me. I love you, and everything you've given me. I wouldn't change it, and I wouldn't trade it for anything."