#touyas cupboard

[katsukistofu]

ikea meatballs before marriage?

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ touya todoroki x fem reader. fluff. cursing. slightly suggestive. ⭑ your fiancé and you get a little too into playing house when you’re supposed to be furniture shopping for your new apartment.

“you’re home early.” touya smirks. an apron you’re ninety-nine percent sure he stole from the aisle showcasing the ovens with ‘i cook as good as i look’ printed on it is tied around his waist.

“i’m home!” you say cheerfully, playing along with him. 

you take a moment to study “your” kitchen and droop in disappointment. 

it was a bit too dim for your liking, the lighting.

there’s no way you could read the recipe books rei had gifted you without touya having to stand there and hold a flashlight while you did.

but the deep forest green accented cabinets, reaching all the way to the ceiling, were beautiful.

perfect for storing fuyumi’s leftover snacks that her students gifted her yesterday.

she had complained to you over the phone about how there was no space at home since all the cupboards were full of soba noodles, courtesy of your fiancé and little brother-in-law.

touya nervously watches, until he sees as you visibly brighten up, and he lets a little huff out, half in pride, half in relief. 

he knew his pick couldn’t be that bad.

then you spot the fake plant hanging from overhead, and grimace as you see a cluster of even more potted plants under it near the toaster. 

cute in theory, but definitely a fire hazard.

touya notices the little way your eyebrows furrow with doubt, and casually leans against the edge of the sink to distract you from making any more keen observations. 

you giggle at the way he almost knocks off the price tag on it in the process, too busy staring at you to bother noticing. 

“how was work?” your favorite fire hazard asks, reaching out a hand to gently brush a stray lash you didn’t notice from your cheek. 

your face always feels hotter than usual when touya pulls away, even after all this time.

“ugh, so exhausting,” you fan yourself a bit, let out an exaggerated sigh. “the printer blew up and got toner all over my clothes, can you believe it?”

“aw.” there’s a playful sparkle in his eyes as touya innocently frowns in sugary sweet sympathy. “want me to run a bath for you later?”

you can feel your cheeks start to burn. you just took one with him yesterday!

but of course you find yourself stuttering out, “oh, um sure.” 

the memory of his fingers softly massaging your scalp as he helped you wash your hair. the gentlest of touches on your skin as he lathered you in suds, pressing a kiss to your forehead between rinses flood back to you. 

you remember trying to wash his hair one time, but he quickly stopped you by trapping you in his lap, insisting that he wanted to do yours first. like he does during every bath he runs for you when you stay over at the todoroki house.

and he would take just as good care of you, your heart knows, in your cozy new apartment that was waiting for you back in shizuoka too. 

not too far from home, so that everyone could still visit, but not too close either, so the both of you had your own space.

touya grins as a shy expression suddenly crosses over your face, knowing exactly what you’re thinking about. 

with amusement, he watches as you reach over to set your purse on the white marble counter. 

a pair of strong hands claim their usual spot on your waist, holding you in place, and then you’re pulled away until your back bumps against a familiar, firm chest.

“uh-uh, mrs. todoroki.” he murmurs softly in your ear. “i just cleaned that for you before you got home.”

your breath catches. mrs. todoroki?  

“my bad,” is all you can manage to squeak out.

his nose tickles your cheek in response and you giggle at the feeling of his piercings, cold and soothing against your warm skin.

“so. what do you want for dinner today?” touya says, leaning over you to open the fridge. he scans its empty contents with a face so serious that you have to bite back a laugh. 

“what do we have?”

“stale air—i mean,” touya coughs. “uh, salad.”

“that’s it? just salad?” you point an accusatory finger at him, and he snorts at the way you force your eyebrows to scrunch together to make an angry face. so cute.

“oh, you think this is funny? take that apron off right now, you big phony.” 

“yes ma’am.” he laughs airily, reaching behind him to undo the tie when his hands stop. 

touya turns to you with a pout. “can you do it for me? my fingers hurt from cooking and cleaning all day.”

he makes it so hard to stay mad at him, even as a joke. 

you bite your lip to suppress the fond grin growing on your face, but it's too late, touya’s already seen it and he knows you’ll give into him soon enough.

“aw, my poor husband all alone in the house, cooking air and salad. it must’ve been so hard for you.”

he pouts even more. “it really was.”

the giggle you’ve been holding back finally spills from your mouth. he was ridiculous, and you loved him for it. “okay you big baby, i’ll untie it for you.” you move to stand behind him, hands reaching for the back of his waist to untie the neat bow he did for himself earlier.

“i think you mean your big strong husband.” touya leans his weight back into you. 

not enough to hurt you or make you fall, but just enough to give you a hard time undoing the knot of his apron. 

“sewing machine was acting up like crazy today, had to teach it some manners.”

“i’m sure you did.” you fight back another laugh, which turns into a whine as his broad back leans into your face even more. 

“touya stop it! do you want this apron off of you or not?”

you can practically hear him smirk from in front of you.

“i’m okay with anything as long as it keeps your hands on me.”

you step away from him and he lets out a ‘oof!’ as his back thuds against the hard floor of the ikea showroom, taking down a fake plant with him.

touya is donning a new apron when the two of you find yourselves outside of another kitchen showroom. 

“‘relax, i’ll feed you bitches.’ it read in bold. 

you giggle hysterically as he stands there, hands on his hips and looking way too proud of his find, as you snap a pic to send to the groupchat with his siblings.

i’d rather eat poison, natsuo texts back. 

his message is hearted by fuyumi and shoto a few moments later. 

a miffed touya reaches over your shoulder to steal your phone, which you easily let go of and surrender like usual with a laugh.

 his chin rests on your head, your back pressed to his chest as he perches his upper arms on your shoulders to text back. 

after he hits send with a satisfied smirk, the both of you walk onto the set.

the kitchen this time was one with a less colorful theme, yet you hear a sharp intake of breath from touya and you feel your own breath catch in your throat.

the tall windows and generous lighting more than made up for it. 

framed paintings of cranes were hung on the slate gray wall behind the dining table, and the refrigerator was much, much larger than the one you saw touya open before.

familiar indigo petals catch your eye. there was a beautiful painting of rindou flowers next to the window in the kitchen, and you can’t help but stare.

“mom would love those.” touya murmurs from beside you. your fingers lace through his as you smile softly in agreement. 

“she would.”

still in the second showroom, touya’s rummaging inside the cabinets while you study the spice rack. 

imagine all the goodies you could fit in there, from sesame seeds to shichimi togarashi.

you drool thinking about all the miso soups and sweet potatoes you could put them on when he suddenly turns to you.

“i’ve been working on my cocktails while you were at work, by the way.” touya grins, handing you an empty, plastic wine glass from where you’re perched on the granite countertop. “wanna try?”

you raise it to your lips and take a delicate sip of nothing. 

“oh yum! what’d you put in it?”

“kale juice.” he snickers behind his hand. “your favorite.”

you make a disgusted face. “well that’d explain the kick to it.”

“right? i really, really think fuyumi and natsuo would like it.”

“touya todoroki, don’t you dare.”

“hey.” he raises both hands in innocence. “a little kale never hurt anyone.”

“you say that but you hate kale.”

“a little kale never hurt anyone unless it’s me.”

you roll your eyes and wrap your arms around his neck. touya’s hands smoothly guide your legs to hug his waist, bringing you closer to him from where you’re sitting on the counter. he stays standing, towering over you. 

“can’t believe i’m marrying a hypocrite.” your voice is muffled against his shoulder, and he laughs.

suddenly, you gasp and point at the sink. “touya!”

his eyes widen at your raised voice, instinctively looking behind him for bugs to kill because that’s the only time your tone would sound that alarmed.

touya hugs you closer to him protectively. 

you can’t help but melt as his arms wrap even tighter around you, his serious turquoise eyes still scanning around the kitchen for any threats to you.

no bugs. 

no tacky “live, laugh, love”-esque sayings framed on the wall.

which he knows is your biggest interior design pet peeve after binging an insane amount of those house flipping shows with you.

“...what is it?” touya finally asks after a moment of hesitation. 

you giggle at the ticklish feeling of the cold silver of his lip piercing brushing against your forehead as he speaks.

“the dishes aren’t in alphabetical order!”

touya breathes a sigh of relief, then laughs into your neck. 

he pulls away to roll his eyes at you. “you nearly gave me a fucking heart attack!”

“what, why?” you laugh, fluttering your lashes at him. so utterly adorable, that he resists the urge to bite you.

touya fights back a blush and averts his eyes from your face, remembering his protective actions. they had been purely instinctive. he reaches up to cover his face with one hand.

“touuu!” you can’t help but laugh harder, reaching up to pry his fingers away from his face. “come on, look at me!”

touya shyly slides his gaze back to you, and lets you take his hand away from his face. 

you lace your fingers through his and lean in to give him a sweet kiss on the lips, which only makes him blush even harder. the chill of the ikea air conditioning did nothing to help.

his eyes trail in the direction of the spice rack you were dreamily looking at earlier.

“why is this crooked?” he frowns, reaching behind you to straighten it.

“pfft is it bothering you?” you take a glance at it. looked okay enough to you.

“yeah it is.” touya’s hands are on the shelf, trying to readjust it into the right position when suddenly—

snap!

the both of your eyes widen at the sound. 

the shelf was upright and more centered than before. 

except now it had a clean split down the middle of it.

of course, touya chooses to focus on the most important part.

“well at least it looks better now.”

and all he can think about as you laugh into his shoulder is that he can’t wait to stand hip to hip with you in your actual kitchen. 

sunshine peeking through the curtains as the two of you make soups, bake each other’s favorite pastries, and indulge in your random middle of the night cravings.

from now until forever.

after lunch in the restaurant, touya adds ikea meatballs to his list of favorite foods. 

you’re pretty sure that’s only because you fed them to him. 

because while you adore him to pieces, he is an unbelievably picky eater, much to fuyumi’s chagrin. 

luckily, he’ll eat anything as long as you’re the one giving it to him.

your sister-in-law thanks you for her lack of headaches when she makes dinner.

in the third kitchen showroom of today, you squint out the window behind the sink.

“i don’t know if i like it.”

“don’t know if you like what?” touya’s still washing his hand in the imaginary water under the faucet that’s clearly never going to start running. his silly self has been there for the past five minutes, at least. 

you hold back a laugh at how meticulous he is about it.

“the view.” 

he looks up and snorts at the wistful gaze you throw out the obviously fake window. 

it had a picture of city scenery taped on the wall outside of it, and the circular shape of a familiar building catches his eye. he recognizes it.

the meguro sky garden in tokyo.

the first place he ever took you out on a date to.

with a fond twitch of his lips, he remembers the way he almost tripped over his feet under the cherry blossom trees when you had suddenly pecked him on the cheek. all those years ago.

touya turns the faucet off, and comes up behind you to lean his head on your shoulder as he wraps his arms around your waist. his eyes soften as you nuzzle against his chin. 

he knows that you know he can’t feel any sensations there anymore. 

but god, does touya love that you still touch him in the places where he can’t feel. 

the way you litter soft kisses under his eyes, stroke his forearms as you guide them to your waist. like they’re still a part of him, like he’s not broken.

like he’s always been whole to you, never any less. 

“but sweetheart,” touya muses. “think about how close it's close to the best schools.”

your face heats up as you realize what he’s talking about. like you haven’t thought about it a million times before.

a kid. with him.

his and your kid.

as if the universe read your mind, a very chubby baby being pushed in a cart passes by the opposite side of the window, covering the picture of tokyo’s scenery.

and it stares at touya and you with the judgiest look you’ve ever seen in your life.

the two of you glance sideways at each other and burst out laughing. 

“nevermind,” you giggle, feeling small and safe tucked in his strong arms. “maybe the view isn’t so bad.”

looking softly down at you, the beautiful color of your eyes meets his, and his heartbeat quickens.

touya can’t help but agree.

a familiar weight softly rests on your shoulder when you groggily open your eyes, and your fiancé is close to follow as he stirs beside you.

you flip around to face him from where he was spooning you, giggling at the little trail of drool coming from the corner of his mouth as you watch his eyes flutter open.

you feel your breath catch in your throat as you gaze upon him.

his hair is starlight in the morning.

touya, still half-asleep, snuggles against you, completely drunk on your warmth. the soft feeling of your skin against his. 

he doesn’t even try to resist it.

the little giddy smile that tugs at his lips whenever the cool feeling silver of your sapphire embedded ring sparkles under the sunlight pooling through the curtains of your shared bedroom as he laces his fingers through yours.

his own ring softly clinking against the one he gave you.

after moving into the privacy of the apartment, with no prying eyes or nosy siblings randomly bursting into his room, touya loves to sleep with his lips just barely grazing your neck.

whenever you wake up from a  nightmare, he’s already kissing the nape of it, the protective hand he has on your hip smoothing circles into your bare skin.

when he wakes from his, you’re already quietly cradling him in your arms, running your hands through his midnight black hair. 

you really have no idea how hard you make it for him to get up.

but the idea of seeing you happily smile because of him is what gives him the final push to wriggle out of your embrace, and the adorable little pout you give him  almost breaks his heart.

“where you going, tou?”

he grins cheekily, placing a finger on his lips. “it’s a secret.”

there's a grumble from you in response and he smooths the crinkle between your furrowed brows with a gentle kiss.

“i’'ll be back soon, i promise.”

“you better or i’m eating your last pocky.”

he laughs at your threat, as if he wouldn’t give it up to you the moment you asked.

at the sight of your eyes already starting to droop, touya presses another kiss to your forehead. “go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

“no.” you pout as his socks pad against the floor when he leaves the room with another laugh. 

huddled up in your floral patterned blankets, you drink in the faint scent of sweet cologne that lingers on them. 

it still smells like him. warm like him, too.

there’s an old photo of touya framed on your nightstand. you love to look at when you fold his and your clothes. 

rei had slipped it out of the family album for you to keep the moment she saw how much you liked it. 

it’s the one where he’s holding a baby shoto like a football in his arms. there’s an easy grin on his face.

you look at it for a little longer, letting a sleepy, content smile spread across your lips. 

until five more minutes pass, and you’re starting to feel impatient.

“shoto!” you call out the doorway in the direction of the guest room you set up for him the day before he came to visit. “what’s your brother doing?”

“cooking.” comes shoto’s soft voice floating down the hallway.

and that’s all it takes for you to get up and rush to the kitchen at lightning speed.

thankfully, the fire alarm hasn’t gone off yet by the time you get there. 

you find touya slicing peaches on the counter, in front of the painting of rindou flowers. there’s a plate of neatly assorted fruit next to him, and your eyes widen as you admire the rose-shaped strawberries. how’d he do that?

“hey.” touya’s eyes narrow playfully when he notices you, putting down the knife. “you’re supposed to be in bed.”

you place your hands on your hips. 

“and you’re supposed to not be burning our new apartment down.” 

throwing a cautious glance at the unmanned pancakes sizzling in the pan beside you, you add on. “with your little brother in it.”

he breathes a laugh and saunters over where you’re standing by the fridge, cornering you to the counter. 

your fiancé grins at your stammers when he leans closer. he can practically feel the heat from your cheeks from here, and touya thinks the tiny house plant overhead grows an inch taller from the sheer warmth you’re radiating.

“stove’s off, sweetheart. they’re not gonna burn.”

“o-oh.” you sigh in relief.

“you worry too much.” touya murmurs softly as holds you in place by the waist to hold up a spoonful of blueberries he forgot to add to the batter. 

your lips reluctantly part to let him feed you, and his heart skips a beat at the hint of a smile on your face.

“mmph!”

suddenly, touya’s lips are on yours and you taste the sweet tartness of the peach he must’ve had before you came over. 

the cold piercing of his tongue teases your mouth and he corners you even further against the cool marble of the counter to make out, just as you hear a pot start to boil and your eyes snap open. 

you’re breathless as you muster all your willpower and break away from him.

“touya, the pot!” 

“oops.” he glances at it, still caging you against the counter with his arms. 

“forgot about that.”

“found your necklace that fell behind the bed last week.” touya says later after breakfast. you’re both sitting on cushions fuyumi and natsuo gifted you at the coffee table in front of the tv, watching ponyo as sunlight seeps into the living room.

it swings it back and forth on his finger and your eyes widen in relief.

“i was looking everywhere for that to wear to shoto’s class party!” 

“i know.” he grins, and you sigh as he presses a soft kiss to your neck. of course he did. 

touya reaches around your neck to securely clasp the back of the necklace’s chain, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“i think i deserve a little reward.”

you giggle, he was so cute.

“thanks touya.” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and he pouts.

“not there.” 

“where then?” you smooth your hands against his bedhead and he almost whines when this time, you press a kiss to his forehead. “here?” 

always such a tease, and he adores you for it. 

touya looks like a desperate puppy as he huffs, nudging your nose with his. 

like you didn’t spoil him with kisses yesterday when he fixed the washing machine that was acting up.

you’re still not totally sure how he did it, but that was probably because you zoned out while he was explaining it to you. 

too busy watching the way his forearms flexed as he fixed the pipes behind it and when he’d take whatever wrench or screwdriver he asked you to hand him from the toolbox.

finally, finally your lips find his and you kiss him, soft and sweet.

a cool breeze blows through the open window, and the both of you breathe it in, smelling dewdrops on grass from the rain last night and hints of sunshine. 

touya smiles against your mouth, arms pulling you into his lap so he can taste you better.

you’re stuck with him. 

from now until forever.

“or maybe home is just two arms wrapped around you when you’re at your worst.”

— danagray

[doereams]

there's something about touya being in a relationship with you that makes me a little sad. for the first time since he's been living wherever he could, he has a place to stay without conditions. without having to plan where to stay next. his guard is always up no matter what, but it doesn't have to be.

he has someone that cares about him, that loves him, and they've opened their home up to him; he doesn't know what to do with it all. it's off-putting. it's alien. it's uncharted territory and he's unmoored. he doesn't like that.

so he bares his teeth a little and runs, because that's how he's survived for this long alone, it's instinctual, just as much as his detachment is a safety net. he runs yet he'll show up to your door in the dead of night. he needs to leave first until running becomes walking away. until it becomes begrudgingly staying. it's not as if he'd let on the fact that his knuckles would turn white with how hard he wants hold onto this one, tangible thing he has now, so the song and dance of indifference has to go on.

but he'll see the food in the cupboards that you've bought for him specifically because he's mentioned in passing that one time. you've given him a key to your apartment despite the fact he's made it known he won't stay, and he'll keep reminding you he won't, but he'll pocket the key. there's medical supplies in the bathroom. while you have expectations, you don't push or prod. you love him regardless of his absence. you love him.

he'll scoff and wave it all away as if it means little. he doesn't need these things from you, yet his heart is thumping in his chest and he disappears into the bathroom to take a breather for god knows how long.

once he stays, i do feel like it'll bring him to his knees for a little bit. it would hit him hard.

[g0kotta]

Hunger

Dabi never got over the hungry feeling scratching inside of his body - itching to get out. Flowing in his blood. Seeping out of his pores. The anger - the obsession. You had to be his. (aka Dabi’s childhood best friend becomes a hero and he realises that his feelings never left).

Yandere-ish? Dabi x reader (no gender specified). This is like 600-700 words, so it’s just an idea I had. Might turn it into a longer fic later? This also might not be too realistic since I dropped mha a long time ago

(y/h/n) - your hero name

The bar is empty. The untouched whiskey glasses that sat on top of the cupboards - covered in a thick layer of dust. It’s quiet and the loudest noise in the room is coming from a clock which stayed hung in the corner of the leagues hideout. Shigaraki had left a while ago, probably to run away from the real problems for a few hours and play a few sessions of the game he was overly obsessed with. The others (which were seen on more rare occasions in the bar - unless it had to do something with the meetings) were gone at this hours.

The people that spent most time there, were Dabi and Shigaraki themselves (with the exception of Kurogiri, as he served as the bartender of this lonely bar).

Dabi lets out a sigh as he tilts his head backwards, the staples digging into his skin and he clenches his jaw. An uncomfortable feeling which he was more than used to after all these years. One of the few clean glasses was snug in his palm, no longer cold as the ice had melted a while ago. He slowly lifts it up to his lips and as the the chipped rim touches his bottom lip, he downs whatever mixture of melted ice and shitty cheap whiskey runs down his throat. He grimaces a bit, but shakes off the feeling of disgust. It was better than it had been before. At least now he has where to stay - a roof over his head. And now there’s other people around him too. He’s no longer alone. He sneers in his mind. He’s no longer alone. He needs to be alone. He doesn’t need the help of others to finally get revenge on the man he had to call a father. He tips his head to the front and puts the glass down, rougher than intended. It slams onto the table, filling the room with a loud bang for a second. The same hand reaches for the remote next to it and clicks on the first button it touches. He needs to fill the silence before it drives him completely mad.

But what he doesn’t expect to see is a familiar face. But it’s not a face that causes an unpleasant feeling to seep into his bones. No. It’s quite the opposite. His lips twitch as a small smirk forms on his face, his eyebrows raise in amusement. Finally. Something interesting.

“A new pro-hero is climbing up the ranks. In just a few months, the incredible (y/h/n) has reached the top five.” A woman with dark curly hair, smiles and pictures are displayed on the screen. Your pictures. “The people have been head over heels for the new young hero! The new generation of youth-“ she continues talking, but Dabi blocks out her voice.

You became a hero. You had chosen to continue the path that the both of you had to walk through. You continued the dream that Dabi had buried years ago, with Touya. His finger starts tapping the wooden bar top as a low, rumbling chuckle slips past his lips. He leans forward and rests his face on his palm. A small spark sets off in the inside of his body. A desire.. No. A need. Dabi needs to have you. You’re the only one that can bring some familiarity back into his life that has been longing, without even realising it. The sound of a chair scraping the floor echoes in the room and Dabi slowly walks out of the building of the hideout, the TV still playing in the background. He realises that he never got over the hungry feeling scratching inside of his body - itching to get out. Flowing in his blood. Seeping out of his pores. The anger - the obsession. You had to be his. One way or another, you’ll be laying in his arms soon enough.

He’ll make sure of it.

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: And Be Immortal [Yandere Dabi x Reader]

Title: And Be Immortal [Yandere Dabi x Reader]

Synopsis: "I think I'm being haunted," you say. "By the ghost of my dead best friend."

For Horrorfest request:

Dabi with the movie Candyman?

Word Count: 1084

notes: yandere, implied kidnapping

“I think I’m being haunted.” 

The words come out so fast that you’re not entirely sure that your friend heard them at first, until she gives you a look that is a mixture of pity, confusion  and--maybe you’re imagining it--curiosity. 

“By my best friend’s ghost,” you continue, when she doesn’t say anything. You stumble a bit over the words, realizing how crazy it sounds, how out-there. Especially to your friend who has never given so much as an inkling that she believes in anything remotely supernatural. 

“He died when we were younger--there was a fire, and…” 

You shake your head, unwilling to go further. 

Your friend reaches out, touches your arm. When you look up, she’s got the softest, kindest expression on her face. A smile, subtle and warm, with a twitch of knowing anxiety behind it.

“I know something that might help.”

--

You wake up, breath hitching, sweat covering the back of your head, making your hair and pillowcase damp and uncomfortably warm. 

--

“All you have to do is say their name in the mirror three times,” your friend told you. “And they will appear to you.” She paused. “You could try to get closure. Or at least know that you’re not crazy.” She laughed a little, but the sound didn’t match her expression. 

It was your turn to look confused--and curious.

“My neighbor had a problem with a ghost,” she clarified. You stared, and she bit her lip. “And… so did I, once.”

You frowned. She had never mentioned it, not even once. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Your friend shrugged.

“You probably wouldn’t have believed me back then.”

You said nothing, because she was probably right on that count. You didn’t really believe in ghosts yourself until a few weeks ago. 

That was when it all started--the haunting. 

Items missing from your apartment, treasured things. Your old stuffed bear. A photo of you and Touya as children, and that hurt the most, because it was the only one you still had. 

Your mother had misplaced your photo album before you moved out, but this one, the one you kept in a frame on your bookshelf, had been spared. Admittedly, the photo frame had gotten dusty, but so had other things from your childhood.

And now it was gone. Who would take it? Not some petty thief. Nothing valuable was missing. Just your personal treasures, and trinkets.

And then there were the noises. Footsteps in the night. The sound of a cupboard opening and shutting in the morning, before you got out of bed; sometimes they were left open, and your fingers twitched while you shut them.

And… you swear, you swear this is true, you began to get the distinct feeling that you were being watched. During the night, and then during the day. While you tried to sleep. While you showered. While you ate what simple meals you threw together, unable to focus much on cooking or shopping as time went on.

If what your friend told you is true, maybe you can get some closure. 

Maybe you can ask Touya to stop haunting you. 

Maybe you can tell him you’re sorry.

--

This isn’t going to work. It can’t work. It’s stupid. It’s crazy. You’re crazy.

You take a breath, then another. You’re just anxious. You’re just… frayed.

Nothing will happen, probably, and you’ll realize that this has all just been some walking fever dream, the end-result of too much stress from university and your job and all the villain attacks in the area. Your mind has clearly retreated to the last time you felt understood, safe, comfortable; aching for the hole left by the loss of your best friend, a hole that could never be filled no matter how much dirt you tried to shovel into it.

Your fingers fumble with the matches in the darkness of the bathroom. You were tempted to leave the door open, but your friend was clear on that count: it needs to be as dark as possible when you complete the ritual. 

There’s the telltale sound of the match strike, the faint scent of sulfur. And then the match is lit and you quickly hold it down towards the tea candles you set up on the bathroom counter. When they’re lit, the bathroom is less dim, but no less frightening. If anything, the flickering candlelight bouncing off the walls gives the room (and your reflection) a strangeness that makes your chest tighten.  

Just… do it. Do it and get it over with, and if nothing happens, then you can call a therapist to work through your clearly ongoing grief and stress issues. But if it does work, then maybe… maybe.

You exhale, closing your lips a little, and look straight into the mirror. 

“Touya… Touya… Touya.”

A moment, then another. Then another. 

But the reflection in the mirror doesn’t change. There is no rippling, no blurring, no appearance of the ghost of your dead friend. Nothing at all, except your own tired face and the flickering yellow-orange light of candles. 

A low ache blooms in your chest. What were you expecting? That his ghost would show up in the mirror and forgive you for not being there for him, forgive you for letting his picture get dusty, forgive you for living the life he never did? 

You scoff at yourself, at the ember-lit reflection in the mirror.

And then the bathroom door behind you creaks open, and every nerve in your body stands on edge.

The reflection in the mirror does change, then. Not replacing yours but showing a figure standing behind you. Not just a figure--

Touya is standing behind you.

Only his hair is black and he is burnt and it’s Touya, Touya, Touya burnt from the fire and here to drag you to hell or drive you crazy or something incomprehensible in between.  

You turn, slowly, aware of his reflection in the mirror, aware of the way adrenaline has taken away your ability to feel your body.

“Touya,” you say, voice hoarse. I’m sorry, how are you, why are you here, why have you been haunting me--all these words stick to the roof of your mouth.

The specter grips your wrists with all-too-warm hands, and oh, oh, this is not a specter but flesh and blood before you, something twisted and wrong but wholly alive.

“Not anymore,” he breathes out, and he smells of sulfur and ash. 

The candles behind you all snuff into darkness at the same time. 

[flamingtouya]

𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 —

pairing: dabi + afab!reader

word count: 4471

cw: nsfw, smoking, alcohol, fingering, unprotected sex, pining, lots of flirting, dabi being a lovesick mess

summary: dabi doesn't know love. doesn't know tenderness. he doesn't dare seek it out, always denying himself the one thing he's afraid he won't be able to get enough of once he's had a taste. but you - oh, you - you're too intriguing to not get a little too close.

Silence is its own form of violence. 

Silence has a way of consuming Todoroki Touya’s heart and swallowing him whole. Silence, to him, is as loud as the infinite rage burning at the core of his heart, the one that hollows out the space between his ribs and leaves him bare. Even though he died years ago, silence is the one thing that eats away at his soul and spits it back up, exposing him to the rawness, the viciousness of his untamed emotions. It renders him unguarded. Naked. So utterly, laughably vulnerable. 

It only makes sense that Dabi likes to avoid silence. 

His skin prickles with anticipation and his palms light up, wicked euphoria pulling on every muscle in his body and making his heart pound up in his ears. “Y'know, I was in a good mood just now,” he snarls. "Piss off while you still can.”

The villain in front of him flexes his quirk, four muscular arms stretching wide enough to block the way out of the dead-end alley. Dabi tilts his head to the side at the pathetic intimidation attempt. Something about this particular group of lowlifes is rubbing him the wrong way - their obnoxious cockiness, sheer confidence in their numbers, the taunting stares, as if to say 'Pity, you got lost on our turf'. He's not quite sure. Doesn't know, doesn’t care. They want blood. He’ll give it to them. One of the men shouts a vile insult in his direction, but the venom dies in his throat the moment Dabi flashes his most deranged grin, all teeth and manic ecstasy. “Then die.”

Blue flames engulf the alley in an instant. Vicious and bloodthirsty, as though they're being driven by a murderous rage of their own, feeding on the meal that was gifted to them. Adrenaline explodes in Dabi’s stomach; His back muscles ache, staples tugging on the scarred flesh, limbs screaming in agony - it’s pure exhilaration. The men's gargling screams cease within seconds, bright heat retreating just as fast as it had appeared. One body hits the ground. Then another. And another. The gang leader's charred corpse drops mere inches from Dabi's feet. Dabi steps forward, making it a point to bury his boot in the spot where the villain's face used to be. 

"Stepped in shit."

He puts his hands in his pockets and walks away, as he'd done so often before. To any sane person, the sight of the bodies left behind would be as vomit-inducing as the accompanying stench of burnt flesh. But Dabi has gotten so terribly used to it, his nose doesn’t even itch. 

By the time he comes down from his high, the smoke begins to dissolve into the night sky and silence comes crashing down around him once again.

_________________________________________

Your figure is draped across the couch, face hidden behind the cover of a dusty novel. The room is quiet, save for the occasional turning of a page and the rhythmic tapping of your fingers against the book’s spine. Some of the cigarette cinder falls beside the tray and you flick it again, this time deliberately letting it fall onto the wanted poster below and watching as the ash slowly eats a hole into the crumpled paper.

Dabi barges in without so much as kicking his boots off. Before you can even properly take in how dishevelled he looks he’s made his way past you, not sparing you a glance, perhaps not even fully realising you're there. You don’t say anything, just furrow your eyebrows and stare at the fresh burn on the back of his neck as he rummages through the cupboard behind the bar.

It's too shallow to leave a scar. Probably. If it heals right. If he lets it heal right. He won't, though, won't even use the ointment that Toga had gotten him from the pharmacy, purchased with her own money (that she had stolen, but it's the thought that counts). Even Tomura called him stupid when he refused. Which Dabi definitely was when it came to self-preservation. Or lack thereof. So there sits the new patch of fresh red on his neck, waiting to dry out and join the sea of scars on his shoulders.

It takes you more effort to tear your eyes away than you’d like to admit. Suddenly, the small crinkle on the corner of page 106 is very interesting.

Dabi finally gets his fingers on some cheap Whiskey and raises the bottle to his lips without bothering to pour a glass. A waste, really. He gulps down three, four mouthfuls, seemingly unbothered by the streaks of liquid that seep through his teeth and trickle down onto his collarbone. Satisfied when his throat is burning with the same intensity as the scorched skin under his shirt, Dabi slams the bottle on the counter. He blinks six, seven times before the wooden texture under his fingers begins to blur. Soon enough he’s cooled down, the annoying buzzing in his head replaced by a soothing numbness. 

But the quiet around you is eating him alive. Still waters run deep, and Dabi wants to keep things shallow wherever he can. So he does something he’s never done before - something he thinks he’ll end up cursing himself for. 

He acknowledges your presence. 

"You read?" 

You glance up from the page, giving him a suspicious once-over before diving back into the safety of your book. "You speak?" 

Neither of you say anything for days afterward. 

____________________________

It’s you who breaks the silence next. 

“You’re filthy,” you comment when he returns at the crack of dawn. And you reek of burns. You don’t expect any kind of response. But Dabi is a man of many surprises, even as generous as to look your way when he retorts, “you’re nosy.” 

He’s clutching his elbow with one hand and opening the bar cupboard with the other. Glancing at the trail his boots leave on the floor, you wrinkle your nose and decide to push your luck. 

“Do you have to get blood on the carpet?” 

“Shut up.” 

“It’s disgusting enough as it is.” 

He lets you interpret his lack of a response as agreement, or maybe you’ve seen him like this often enough to know how loud his head is buzzing already.

By the next time he makes it back later than he should, the bottle of Whiskey is waiting for him on the counter. 

____________________________

He doesn’t notice. Not at first. How this is turning into a game of cat-and-mouse. You and Dabi dance around each other like fire would around gasoline, and it’s starting to irritate him. He finds himself removing his boots before plopping into the couch seat across from yours. Always irritated when you brush him off. Always amused that he can’t seem to get a rise out of you. 

“You’re smoking hot tonight, sweet cheeks.” He grins. “Spare me a cigarette?” 

You look up from whatever meaningless video is playing on your phone. He’s done this a few times before, calling you ‘sweetheart’ and ‘princess’ in that mocking tone of his. You don’t mind, because talking to Dabi is like talking to an NPC most of the time anyways and it at least shows he considers you someone worth name-calling. Instead of meeting his face, your eyes fall on the half-empty Whiskey he’s gripping a little too tightly. He frowns.

“If you hand me that bottle.” 

Dabi rolls his eyes. As if he’s ever going to consider such a trade. Maybe some part of him actually is. He doesn’t allow himself to think about it, lest he’s forced to admit that the alcohol does indeed taste bad. “Fuck you.” He sways the bottle in your direction. “But I’m down to share. Feeling generous tonight.” 

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “Don’t want to. Haven’t had alcohol in a while.”

“A shame. You should try it. Makes you give less of a fuck,” he says, and for a moment you’re taken aback by the honesty. That’s the thing about Dabi; All you ever get is fleeting glimpses of sincerity, a split second where his persona slips and he’s forced to feel something. You don’t acknowledge it out loud, taking the pieces as they come and even if some don’t fit quite right, you never pry. Dabi appreciates it, you think. As far as his appreciation goes, anyways. The man before you is a riddle that doesn’t want to be solved.

He’s back to himself in a heartbeat and you realise he’s looking at you, expecting an answer.

“But then I’d ignore you completely,” you nod in his direction. “And you wouldn’t have any fun trying to annoy me.”

He ponders for a moment and takes another swig. A hint of a triumphant smile tugs at the corners of your lips and you allow it to show when he’s not looking. 

____________________________

It creeps up on him, how aggravatingly familiar your presence is becoming. He hates the word, hates the implications of it. You’re not family. He’d like to think you’re far more annoying, if that’s even possible. 

So when he returns particularly early one night and you’re not in your usual spot on the couch, he’s… puzzled. There’s no book, no ashtray, no charger on the floor. No trace of you having been here tonight. In one of the drawers lie several burner phones - he fetches one and punches your number in. The exposed skin on his wrist protests at the friction.

> the fuck you at?

He’s about to go on a scavenging hunt behind the bar when the phone buzzes. 

> out

"No shit," Dabi scoffs. He debates whether or not he should leave it at that. His fingers make the decision for him, typing out a response before his head has fully caught up. 

> shit answer. try again

He wants to toss the phone away but his eyes are glued to the message that pops up immediately.

> watasecho bridge

Dabi frowns at your choice of a quiet spot. He's got an approximate idea of where you are. A few minutes later he's navigating through a narrow passage that leads to the platform below the railway bridge, where most of the lamps are either broken or have been smashed to bits. It's no less eerie than he remembers. Watasecho is where people go looking for trouble, after all.

He’d know. He's cremated a man here. 

Dabi sucks in his breath and turns the corner. Something whirls by him, coming dangerously close to slicing his ear and hitting concrete behind him with a graceless ‘clink’. 

His eyebrows go up in surprise but his posture remains relaxed, shoulders slouched, one hand in the pocket of his jacket and the other coming up to check for blood. "You missed." 

"If I wanted to impale your neck, I would've."

"I know, sweet cheeks. But unfortunately for you, I'm as un-impaled as ever." 

You huff at the snark in his tone. "Don't make me reconsider." 

“So mean. Even though I just got here.” Dabi takes his spot beside you, resting his elbows on the railing. The only lights around were the lamps from the highway below, illuminating your face in a way that made his stomach feel a little too light for his liking.

You shrug. “Figured you wouldn’t bother.”

"Please, I'm a bother. You should know," he says. Of all people, you should know. And you do.

You press the cigarette butt against the railing and stick another in your mouth.

“How so? Indulge me.” 

“If you give me that pack,” he mocks. It’s your turn to scoff, though you can’t deny that there’s a visible hint of a smile there, too. You pretend to contemplate for a moment. “No,” you muse. “I don’t think I will.” You hold the lighter close and flick it. Nothing happens. Try again. Nothing. 

The piece of shit is empty. 

You let out a frustrated groan and Dabi snatches it from you, inspecting the cheap plastic before giving it a good flick down the highway. It barely misses an oncoming truck. “Looks like you’re in a pinch.”

You tilt your head to look at him, cigarette still in mouth. “Can you be not annoying for like, two minutes?” 

“It has nothin’ to do with whether I can, and everythin’ to do with whether I want to. And the answer to that,” he says, “is ‘No’.” You pout. Sure enough, Dabi does nothing to hide his amused smirk. “Say ‘please’ and I might help you out.”

The implication isn’t lost on you. Warmth pools in your stomach and you raise an eyebrow at him, playing with the cigarette between your lips, fumbling through your pockets in hopes that another lighter would magically appear. You huff when it doesn’t. “I’d rather go through withdrawal.”

Dabi exhales deliberately, making a point of dropping his shoulders. “Such a piece of work.” 

He takes the cigarette from your lips and puts it to his, pinching the end between his thumb and index finger. The stick lights up briefly. You begrudgingly mutter your thanks and reach for it but Dabi leans away from you, not breaking your gaze. Shoulders wide and shiteating grin plastered on his face, he chuckles as he takes the first drag. The staples at the corners of his mouth tug on the purplish skin when he exhales, visibly amused when the smoke blows in your direction. 

You roll your eyes and groan, though your voice is softer than you’re used to when you speak; "You're a chronic nuisance and nobody loves you." 

"Sweetheart, I'm well aware." 

You finger another cigarette from the pack and hold it out to him expectantly. To your surprise, he complies. The flame he conjures dances around the tip of his finger. Up close like this, it’s… warm. 

It’s not supposed to be. Dabi isn't supposed to be warm or comforting or any of those things. He’s vicious, cold-blooded. Ruthless and vengeful. His sins are written over his body from the cheekbones to the shoulders, wrapped around his torso and hips, and most recently, his hands. The burns that used to hug his wrists so tenderly are beginning to crawl toward his knuckles. He’s not supposed to feel like warmth. Vicious. Cold-blooded. He’s a despicable person, inside and out.

Beyond despicable. That’s why you hate him, you think. 

That's why you… what?

You’re smacked out of your trance when his hand drops to his side. Thankfully his attention seems to be on the highway below. It’s not very busy, but it’s something to focus on. Slowly, you bring the cigarette to your lips and inhale. Your body welcomes the tobacco's bitterness as it creeps into your lungs and manages to dissolve some of the tension between your shoulders. 

Dabi burns through half of his cigarette in under a minute. His chest rises and falls rhythmically, shoulders dropped when he tilts his head back, eyes closed. Nothing to keep the silence at bay. He invites it in, soaks it up and lets it burn for a little bit before his body forces him to exhale again. 

It strikes you then that he’s… beautiful. His jaw is sharp and the slight curve of his nose all the softer. You wouldn't call him pretty. Handsome, maybe, despite his scars and jarred edges. Definitely attractive. Even the wind seems to think so as it caresses his hair in a way that makes your heart sting with envy. For some reason, Dabi looks small. Unguarded, with his throat exposed like that. 

"There a reason you keep eyefucking me?" 

The tranquillity around him vanishes in an instant, replaced by that familiar, snarky arrogance. Dabi's eyes open and flicker to your figure. You hold your breath. “There a reason you keep burning yourself up like that?”

He seems to consider your words as he takes one last drag. “Maybe I just like to chase death around the block,” he says, voice laced with endearing sarcasm. “Keeps things interesting.”

“Then I’ll just have to guess why you decided to humour me tonight.” 

"Because I hate you," he lies. 

Huh. 

You giggle, and the giggle bubbling up turns into laughter. Dabi’s heart skips a beat. You don’t see how his mouth opens and closes, don’t see how he almost, almost smiles, relishing in the moment - the crinkles in the corner of your eye when you laugh, the lovely sound of your joy - what the fuck did he say again?

It’s kind of amusing, frankly. “I really don’t think that you do,” you say, evidently confident even though your heart is racing.

So is his, but he doesn’t let it show, tries to bury it before the pounding in his chest escapes. Dabi raises an eyebrow. “That your second quirk?”

"More of a natural gift, actually.” You have his undivided attention, the intensity of his gaze boring right through you as you speak. “Can’t really help it. I just know when people lie." 

Dabi freezes. The cigarette butt between his fingers crumbles to ash in an instant. 

"You are not who you say you are, Dabi." 

How far should you go? 

"What you’re hiding is none of my business.” 

This far. 

“But you are not here for Stain's cause, and you really don't like Whiskey - I don't get why you force yourself to pretend you do.” 

Just a little bit further. 

“But it seems you do believe that nobody loves you." 

Maybe too far. 

Maybe it doesn’t matter. 

Not with him.

Dabi hasn’t moved, hasn’t made any attempt to murder you either, so you push it. You bring your palm up to his face, stopping mere inches from his scarred jawline. 

"And you do not hate me."

"I do." 

Maybe he should just ignite you on the spot. If he burns hot enough, there won’t be a corpse left to be found. He mentally shuffles through a multitude of scenarios in which he convinces Shigaraki that they were better off without you. 

For some stupid fucking reason, he comes up blank.

Your hand withdraws from him, coming to rest at your side. He flinches at the sudden loss. Fucking flinches, like you’ve scorched him with the mere implication of your touch. 

Something in your chest is trying to get out. For a second there you might burst. Hell, if that means he can finally see that you care, really care, you might as well. Some things aren’t meant to be said out loud and if Dabi is still capable of softness, you’re hoping he feels it too, the thing that passes between the two of you. Your heart aches for him in ways that shouldn’t be possible and yet here you are, standing before the man that’s lost count of how many lives he’s taken. Longing for him to need you the way you need him to.

"I can't get rid of that emptiness in you." 

"You're right," he says, and it’s much easier when he knows you see right through his lies. "You can't." 

“I don’t think anybody can.” 

Something in the back of his mind cries out. He’s turned the happy smile on your face into a sad one - one that wants to wipe off your face, not violently, not with harsh words, but tenderly. His eyes flicker to your cheek, your neck, your lips. 

It’s silent.

“But I can kiss you.”

Oh.

Yeah. Dabi thinks he would like that.

His lips meet yours, not even giving you a chance to think or breathe, and before you fully realise that it’s really happening you're kissing him back, all lips and tongue and teeth and a slight whimper escapes you. Mercifully, he doesn't stop to comment, but there's a hint of smugness when he slips his tongue into your mouth. His hands find your hips and he guides you backwards until your back is against the concrete. He has you completely, pressing you into the wall and holding you like he's afraid you're going to disappear any moment.

Your head feels fuzzy, eyes prickling and cheeks hot. His lips leave yours and find your jawline instead, teeth grazing. You roll your hips forward and brush over the bulge that’s forming in his crotch. There's a hint of a throaty moan and you can't help but laugh at him for it. 

“Shut up,” he muttered against the crook of your neck, teeth and tongue sucking and nibbling on the already tender skin. 

"Make me."

He firmly grips your chin with two fingers. It’s ridiculous, how he has you submit to him so easily, sending shivers of excitement down your spine and making you weak in the knees. With all the mental strength you can muster, you smile up at him triumphantly. “You didn’t drink.” 

“Had a reason not to.”

“And why is that?” 

Dabi bites down on your throat, too soft to draw blood but hard enough to make you freeze. 

He pushes the fabric aside and presses a finger against your wet entrance, and you could swear his voice drops an octave. “Keep runnin’ that mouth of yours and find out.” 

Fuck. 

Your eager cunt swallows his finger to the knuckle and he doesn't bother to add another, enjoying how you whimper at him teasing your softness and pressing against your cervix, just barely, enough to make you want more. 

There are slight alterations to his rhythm and you trust each and every one of them as he searches for the pace that makes you squirm the way he wants you to. You lose track of your moans when he finds it, slow and deep enough to reach pleasure inside you that you didn’t know you had. He coaxes moan after moan out of you, growing harder with every grind of your thigh against his crotch. 

“Stop being such a goddamn tease and just fuck me already.” 

“This is all you’re gettin’ for being such a goddamn brat.”

“Oh, shut- ah- up. You love it.”

“I hate it,” he corrects. 

“You- fuck,” you gasp, fingers digging into his shoulders for support. 

He laughs - it’s a low and husky laugh, one that makes your breath hitch and your pussy clench around his digit. His movements are slow but firm as he begins to pump his finger in and out of you at a steady pace, curling ever so slightly when it brushes against your sweet spot. It’s cute, he thinks, how weak you are for him. 

Dabi has the audacity to lock eyes with you as the inevitable smirk makes its way onto his face. He has no business looking this smug with his erection pressed up against your thigh, but here he is. Hungry for your touch, starved for the sensation of being buried inside of you as though he’s always known how badly he needs it. Whatever he’s going to say is lost when your lips crash into his again and it’s him who lets a moan slip.

“I hate you,” he growls. 

“Such a sweet-talker.” You lazily drag your tongue up his cheek and place a kiss on his temple. There’s the way he gasps just a little too audibly to go unnoticed, the way his fingers dig into your flesh too tightly.

"From the first time I saw you, I've hated your guts." 

You hum, rolling your hips against his and feeling him pulsate. Dabi hisses when you squeeze your thighs, pulling and pushing him with every deliberate motion. Nails digging further into your thigh as he lets out a raspy moan. The sensation drives both of you crazy, the knot in your stomach suddenly feeling very hot and tight. 

"I ah- I hate you in ways you can't- fuck- imagine." 

His forehead is pressed against your shoulder, teeth lightly grazing your neck. You finally have him where you want him, almost daring to protest when he pulls his finger out of you but you unbuckle his belt instead, pulling down the hem of his underwear to reveal his full length. 

Your eyes widen at the sight. “Holy shit, you’re big.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be able to take it,” Dabi says with what little restraint he can muster. “Take it for me? Please?” 

And how could you deny him such a sweet request?

He lifts you up and props you onto the concrete. It’s not cold at all, you realise, and when his hot palm caresses the curve of your ass, it’s clear why. You pull him closer by the hips and he slides into you. Not wholly at first, as if to test your limit. You reassure him that it’s fine, you can take it, and god does he fill you up nicely when he bottoms out. It’s like his cock was always meant to be buried inside you. 

“Fuck,” he curses, “Fuck- fuck. Fuck-”

It’s unlike any meaningless fuck he’s ever had. The grip your pussy has around him is the most heavenly sensation Dabi’s ever felt, something so divine it’s making him want to whisper prayers into your skin.

“‘S okay,” you whisper instead, “I got you.” Even though he’s the one holding you close like his life depends on it. Your fingers slip under his shirt and around his torso, pulling him forward to trap him in another heated kiss.

One can only deny the truth for so long before it begins to eat them alive. You've crawled into his heart and made your home there. He tried to claw you out, but you ignite a feeling in him that he's desperately failed to put out. Touya was one to feed the flames - always had been. 

So when you reach your high he holds you close, picking up the pace at which he ruts into you once you’re pushed over the edge. Stars cloud your vision and you’re letting yourself fall backwards because you know he’s there to catch you, his grip around your back firm despite how hard his thighs are shaking when he spills into you. His thrusts are short but deep. Your fingernails scratch along his shoulder and he fucking loses it when you bite down on his neck and moan his name. Some of him is leaking and running down your thigh already but he fucks it back into you, coming undone with the sweetest, most honey-coated moan you’re ever heard. 

Dabi’s eyes meet yours, pleasure and ecstasy written all over them as you both bask in the afterglow. You brush your thumb across his cheek to wipe away the bloody drop that runs down from his right eye, gently inspecting if any of the staples had come undone. 

Dabi puts his hand over yours, guiding it to his lips where he places a kiss on your knuckles before letting go. You rest your forehead against his shoulder and allow yourself to breathe in the dewy blue of the night. 

♡

Some of us only know love as pain. Every positive emotion is intertwined with an incurable, deep-rooted sadness. I believe that Dabi would express his love in a way that people who’ve been traumatically sabotaged from forming any good relationships would; denying himself the good parts and ultimately being overwhelmed when they become too strong to ignore. 

If you enjoyed this, consider reblogging or giving me some love in the replies or on AO3 <3

[http-tokki]

~ dabi x reader ~ tags/cw: mha spoilers,canonverse, blood, slight gore maybe, domesticity, dabi dyeing his hair ~ wc: 430

-So it wasn't created out of the love he has for himself but out of necessity and how irritating it is to clean infected wounds (trips to the dr and antibiotics and the itching and bleeding, its too much for that poor boy to already deal with ) ((I also think that he doesn't enjoy pain he isn't in control off. like with the piercings and staples, maybe I'm really letting my mental health show with this one but with piercings he can decide that he wants to feel that sharp sting or when he changes his staples anywayyyy))

-so this boy showers A LOT and cleans his scars regularly. no matter how exhausted he is, he sits in the bathroom and cleans and restaples wounds applying ointment and topical creams, he has a skincare routine.

-his bathroom cupboards look like first aid kits. Antisepctics of all variety, creams, bandaids and bandages, stitches, gauze everything you could think of, it was in his bathroom.

-however one of the downsides of bathing so often, is that his hair fades very very quickly. No matter how many different brands he uses, the black pigment does not want to stick to his hair (even tho you have pointed out that showering in hot water so often is the reason why its fading but Touya doesn't like the cold water and doesn't like not feeling clean) so here you were, squatting down in front of the black hair dye, an array of boxes and packets littering the ground at your feet as you compared wash times and online reviews.

"Babe, why can't you just have your white hair?" you look up at Touya, his looming frame seeming much smaller as he peered at a contained of manic panic, trying to decipher the ingredients.

He doesn't look up from the plastic as he answers "because I want to look scary" placing it back on the shelf, his fingers brush over red dye. "white hair isn't scary but black hair, that screams menace to society"

"Shiggy's got white hair and he's arguably the biggest menace to society I've ever met"

Touya snorts. "Shiggy's...Shiggy. It works on him, I'd just- ohh this one!" changing the subject away from white hair, he picks up a box that has PERMANENT GREY COVERAGE in big yellow letters. "This is the one, I can feel it" he turns to you and extends a hand. Accepting the gesture, he pulls you to your feet giving you a quick kiss on your forehead before turning away muttering something about going to pay and meet you outside.

[aromanticannibal]

todoroki siblings with a tiktok account make a video where they make a drink without knowing what the others put in and all the way through they're all incredibly suspicious and being like i am going to be safe because touya is going to do something insane. fuyumi puts orange juice and natsuo puts fanta or something and then shouto pops up, gets on a stool and presents his wonderful bottle of jack daniels he found in daddy's cupboards and empties half of it. and then touya arrives and puts Milk in the drink.

[ofmermaidstories]

From your posts so far I feel like you have such a wide variety of understanding complex characters. How do you think you would tackle writing for Todoroki Touya, and have you ever considered any storyline for him? What kind of civilian reader do you think you’d craft for him if so?

beyond a post-canon bonnie and clyde AU, i’ve never really seriously considered a fic for dabbers. 🧐 he’s a fun character in canon, but to me that’s because he’s a walking tragedy—his hatred and desperation for his father. his resentment of his perfect baby brother. the way both of those things blindside him to his other brother, his sister, their mum. i don’t see him as like, the fun flirty bad boy that i think was a given read of him, earlier in BNHA—i think what he eventually goes through will profoundly change him, if he lives. it’ll take hard work for him to get to a place where he can be like, happy with the family that’s reaching out to him—his father, his mother, his siblings…. his perfect baby brother.

for a post-canon dabbers fic, i’d probably strike at the in-between time between him physically and mentally healing—like, his injuries have been treated, he’s gotten physical therapy. maybe he has a prosthetic arm like his arm, or a cane to help him walk but he can do things, he can physically be apart of the world again—but he still bubbles with his resentment. touya’s a massive fazacon in canon and everyone who disagrees with me can argue with a wall LMAOOO i’m right about this forever, but like, for a x reader fic i think that means competition for his attention on a very base level, you know? like, how do you bond with and romance a guy that’s constantly sour about how his father ruined his life??? to me that means you benefit best from having a Reader-insert who either has their own baggage, or is nihilistic enough to laugh his off LOL. and i think if you’re going to make them both like, kinda unrepentant assholes, you’re almost obligated to give them a happy ending??? or rather—that’s how i would write it. like with the dabi/bonnie & reader/clyde idea, i would set it up so that they both think they’re gonna die at the end of it, that the reader (lowercase) thinks they’re gonna die, that endeavour and rei and the todo siblings (minus Shouto) think they’re gonna die—and then at the end they don’t. one of them—maybe dabi himself, because i think we owe him that chance—tries to pull a stunt that like, lets Reader live, say. maybe he meets up with his perfect baby brother at some stage during the Crime Spree and it’s Shouto who’s like, I can help you. I can help both of you, please let me, and at first Dabi’s furious (how fucking dare this useless squirt of endeavour’s hot fucking snot talk to him like a hero) but then. you know. he gets attached like a chump, or whatever. maybe he sees more of himself in you than he wanted to, or maybe being outside of the careful, clinical surveillance he was under before means he has to confront like—what the point of it all is, you know? he failed in killing his father, his baby brother, himself. he got patched together and now endeavour’s grovelling like a worm for forgiveness Touya doesn’t want to give him, almost (it’s not atonement or forgiveness he wants—he wants the family he should’ve had, the power he should’ve had from birth, perfect and whole). and it’s like—the choice is either go out in a blaze of glory or…. i don’t think he’d even let himself imagine it, LOL. you and him and your fucked up issues like linen in the cupboards of some cute little house with a tidy fence around it? bullshit. pathetic.

(but you patch each other up. and the way you laugh when someone eats shit trying to run during one of your robberies makes him think of his days with the League of Villains—the way everyone was so unrepentative in what they were after, the hurt they wanted to inflict. And yet Toga’s out there somewhere, getting rehabilitated back into society and last Touya heard Spinner was working with heteromorph discrimination programs after a rough recovery—and you could still make it, he thinks in disdain. He’s on his last, last chance but you—you could still have that tiny home, somewhere. The linen cupboards that hold more than the issues that sent you to the same centre he was languishing in. You could still have a future, and later that night when you’re asleep he walks away from the car you’ve traded (stolen) the van in for—and calls his perfect baby brother, who answers the phone silently, waiting.

“You wanna help?” Touya asks, dry. “Then help, Hero.”)

[nohoney]

sweetness I hope you’ve had a wonderful week mwah mwah! I was thinking about that one drabble that you wrote of us!dabi and us!keigo continuously cheating on us!yn and I was wondering if we could please get a bit of an angst drabble (I have departed from the smut/fluff train and I am now boarding the angst one)

hi darling! i hope you’ve been well and taking care of yourself! i’ve pretty much wrapped up that little cheating drabble timeline but i definitely will not deny you us series angst (´ ω `♡)

warnings: angsty-ish, touya carries reader briefly, like a sort of make up but also not?

Right now, all three of you are in a department store looking at dinnerware.

“Does it really matter what kind I get? We just need something to eat on." Touya sighs as his eyes gloss over the different styles, sizes, and shapes of plates that are presented on a shelf. Getting something new didn't necessitate that he needed to get anything fancy or flashy. All plates are there for the same purpose; to just put food on it and then eat off of.

Keigo looks over a set of five blue plates and compares it to a set of six that are in the color black. "You know that we're replacing more than just things to eat off of. What about the bowls and the cups too?" he points out.

"God, who cares?" Touya huffs out and he gestures vaguely to the entire shelf, "Let's just buy whatever we need to replace and get going. I do not care what they look like. It's not like it will be expensive for me anyway."

You stand off to the side and keep to yourself. The boys just talk only to each other while you are simply just there with them. They are not exactly ignoring you but you're not apart of the conversation either. In fact they wouldn't be here talking of dinner plates and fruit bowls if it weren't for you.

They wouldn't be here if it weren't for the tantrum you threw yesterday.

It's embarrassing when your anger gets the best of you and you become destructive. You can't even remember what had made you upset again just like many other fights before. Just another meaningless argument with your blue eyed boyfriend where he said that you were being dramatic again. He had angrily cursed and decided to step out.

When he had returned probably no more than ten minutes later, he came back to you having emptied out the cupboard of all the dinnerware. Broken ceramic pieces were shattered on the floor. Barely anything survived your rampage.

You stood on the opposite side of the kitchen, the only clear space with no broken pieces and chips of ceramic was only where you stood. With all the little sharp bits and pieces lay before you, the only option to be able to get out would have been to crawl up onto the countertop.

Touya had pulled on his boots only to be able to step over all the broken ceramic to retrieve you, putting you over his shoulder and carrying you off to the bedroom where you were essentially put on timeout.

While you cried into a pillow, he swept up everything into a trash bag and cleaned up after the mess you made. Even in your attempt to apologize, Touya didn't want to hear you speak and he went to bed with his back to you.

So now here you are, simply watching as Keigo tries to put thought into selecting dinnerware and Touya not wanting to put in any whatsoever. Your eyes drift over to the opposite end of shelves where where there are sets of mugs as well as individual ones as well. A white mug with pink clouds painted on it catches your attention. There's other designs and sizes with flowers or cats or some cheesy quote in funky lettering that are there for sale too.

"Stoneware would be good, yeah?" Keigo's voice break away your attention and you look back to see him holding a set in his arms. "It even comes with the bowls and mugs. Isn't that great?"

Touya doesn't have a comment and you just mumble a quiet 'yeah'.

The three of you move out the aisle to head to the checkout. You remain silent waiting in the long line and looking again at the rows set up along the checkout line for any last minute purchases. Again you happen upon the same mug that you saw in the aisle and your gaze lingers on it.

Before you can even react, Touya's reaching for the exact mug you're staring at it and holds it in his hand. "Quit staring at it like that, I'm gonna buy it." he states without looking at you and just keeps his gaze forward. You try to tell him it's fine and that you didn't really want it but Keigo's foot nudges against yours.

You stay silent and guess that maybe this might be Touya's way of also trying to move on from your tantrum.

The white mug with pink clouds sits on the countertop as you unbox the dinnerware set. It's heavier than you'd expected it to be and Keigo had chosen a pleasing color palette. Four plates, four bowls, and four mugs to replace the set he had before in the cupboard. You push aside the box so that it's out of your way, unknowing that it actually pushes and tips the white mug over the edge of the countertop. From the corner of your eye, you barely catch a glance as it falls and don't react quick enough to even attempt to catch it.

It smashes into little shards and big bits.

"Baby? You okay?" Keigo looked up from the book he was reading and comes to your side. He gives you a consoling little 'oh' when he looks at the mess by your feet. "It's okay, I'll clean it up."

You're sitting on the kitchen countertop as Touya emerges from the shower with a towel around his neck. He's drying his hair and he asks if he actually heard something break or if he was just imagining it. Keigo sweeps the broken mug into a dustpan and makes sure to sweep the broom in the little corners that stray pieces may have fallen to. It's disappointing that he had gone out of his way to buy it for you only for it to break the same day.

Touya offers no words though, just waiting patiently until Keigo finishes cleaning the mess and the dustpan is emptied into the garbage.

"'M sorry Touya." you tell him as he helps you off the countertop. He only offers the small gesture of rubbing your back and doesn't say anything.

It feels a little cruel almost that the gift he had given you to try to move on ended up being broken by your own actions. So you have to figure that this is karma for what you had done. You walk out of the kitchen only to step on something sharp. "Ow!"

"Aw man, must have missed one! C'mere dove, let me see and make sure it's not too bad."

Now it felt like a punishment.

[tomuratime]

this is not your grave

chapter two

There is a kitchen, a living room, a few bedrooms. A bathroom now mostly covered in black, smelly chemicals, Spinner grumbles to himself as he digs through a cupboard in the search of anything resembling cleaning supplies, and comes up short.

Compared to the suites they stayed in with the PLA, the house might as well have been a dumpster. Compared to some of their hideouts before that, though, it’s not too bad.

And soon, Dabi will be here.

Touya, he corrects himself. It’s Touya now.

[haikyuuwaifu]

3

Double Take: Dhruv

MASTERLIST

Warnings: Swearing, Attempted Slander, Veiled Jealousy

Boy, you got me hooked onto something Who could say that they saw us coming? Tell me Do you feel the love? Spend a summer or a lifetime with me Let me take you to the place of your dreams Tell me Do you feel the love?

Standing in the line at the cafe, Shinsou’s attention was focused on his phone. He and Touya were in the middle of a meme war and the other man refused to back down. Katsuki was tired of the both of them and swore he was going to find a better boyfriend and an even better best friend. Taking a step forward, Shinsou was greeted with a blinding smile from Denki’s barista friend Kyouka. “Black coffee as usual?” She hummed, eyeing the man. Shinsou had just finished his workout, and was picking up coffee and pastries upon his return home. “I come here too much don’t I?” he joked, stuffing his phone into his gym bag. “I’ll also take a Caramel Iced coffee and some of the pastries in the case.” He mumbled, pulling out his wallet. “On the house!” Jirou mumbled, her cheeks tinted pink. Shinsou blinked owlishly, pulling out a 20 and placing it in the cup. “Thanks.” He smiled, causing Kyouka to blush profusely. Once Shinsou’s drinks were ready, he nodded toward Kyouka before leaving. She was disappointed to see that he hadn’t noticed her number written on the side of his cup. 

Minutes later found Shinsou making his way into his apartment, setting the keys on the hook and placing his purchases on the counter. “Smells good Toshi.” Y/n grunted, her eyes blinking sleepily. “Got you a pick me up princess.” He stated, reaching into a cupboard to grab plates. Y/n took a tentative sip of his coffee and winced, looking down at the cup. “Oooo someone got some digits!” She teased, giving him a playful nudge. Shinsou only rolled his eyes, setting the pastries in front of her seat. “S’not like that. She’s a friend of Denki’s. I don’t really know her that well.” Y/n only nodded, reaching over to grab her actual drink. Taking a sip she hummed, doing a little wiggle. “Thanks Tosh.” She cooed, snuggling into his arm. “Yeah yeah.” He grumbled, taking a bite of her pastry. “I’m gonna shower. Finish up and get ready, I’ll take you shopping.” He supplied, grinning as he watched Y/n stumble out of her chair. He laughed, when he watched her trip down the hall.

Shinsou took a sip from his water bottle, the sun beating down as he took in his surroundings. The campus was doing some collective competition involving a huge majority of the student body. When Katsuki had found out he’d naturally built up his team of winners, Shinsou being his top prospect. Scanning the area, his eyes fell on his best friend and his roommate. Y/n had black paint across her face and her game face on as she and Katsuki discussed logistics. “Just ask my best friend out so I can stop seeing all the pining.” Touya grunted, rubbing a hand over his face. “You look festive.” Shinsou teased, as he took in Touya’s outfit. The man was wearing shorts and a jersey Shinsou recognized as Katsuki’s. “Gotta support my babe.” He quipped, shaking his pom poms. Shinsou was going to say something else, when Kaminari whacked him on the back. “Jirou gave you her number a week ago Hito! Why haven’t you called?” The blonde shouted, tugging his friend close. “I forgot about it and threw the cup out when I finished the drink.” Hitoshi mumbled distracted. Denki followed his buddies eye line and scoffed. “She’s just fucking playing you man. Be fucking for real right now.” Shinsou only rolled his eyes, giving Denki a shove. Touya wanted to say something, but a woman’s voice interrupted them. “Hitoshi!” Kyouka hummed, making her way into the group. Shinsou gave her a small smile, his eyes flitting back across the field. Kyouka’s eyes followed his, and she frowned. “That’s Y/n right? Your roommate?” “Just his roommate, practically his sister.” Denki shouted, patting Shinsou’s back enthusiastically. Kyouka’s eyes lit up a that, but before anyone could shut things down, a whistle cut through the yard. “Quit fucking around and get over here” Bakugo barked. Kyouka tried to reach out, but Shinsou was already gone. 

Later that evening Y/n was in the bathroom waiting for Mina and Uraraka. Readjusting her chest area and taking in her appearance she nodded, pleased with the result. Next to Y/n, Jirou stepped up to the mirror to reapply her lipstick. Looking over, she eyed the other woman before speaking. “You’re Y/n right? Denki’s friend?” Kyouka began, looking in the mirror as she applied her darker shade. Y/n made a face, smiling thinly. “I wouldn’t count Denki as a friend, but we know each other.” She hummed, as Uraraka stepped out of the stall. “Your roommate is Hito then?” Jirou asked in an attempt of uninterest. “That’s right.” Jirou gave Y/n a onceover, before making a face. “Hm. You don’t seem worth the trouble.” She sniffed, stuffing her lipstick tube back into her purse. Uraraka’s eyes widened as Mina slammed her stall door open. “What the fuck did you just say?” Mina hissed, eyes narrowed. Jirou only stood up, giving the other woman a shrug. “I’m just calling it like I see it. Denks is right. She’s not worth much.” She supplied giving Y/n another glare. Y/n paid her no mind, clicking away at her phone. Stuffing her phone back into her pocket she gave Kyouka a sweet smile. “Enjoy the rest of the party babe.” She declared making her way toward the door. Kyouka followed the girls out, ready to go find Shinsou. What she wasn’t expecting was to see Shinsou standing outside. “Hey!” She smiled, taking a step toward him. “Hey.” Shinsou grunted distractedly sliding his jacket off his shoulders. Turning slightly, he dropped it onto Y/n’s shoulders as he reached into her pocket to grab her phone. “Touya’s got the car ready and Bakugo’s by the door.” He mumbled right into Y/n’s ear. Y/n nodded, turning to give Jirou a friendly wave. “See you around Kyouka.” Y/n cooed, winking as she walked away. Shinsou looked over, giving the woman a friendly wave. “We’re gonna call it an early night. Can you let Denks know if you see him?”  Shinsou asked. All Kyouka could do was nod dumbly, watching as he walked away. 

Prev/Next

[ao3feed-hawks]

Breaking and Entering is a Family Gene

Breaking and entering is a family gene by FrogSpawn

Izuku's face was stern and serious in a way that he was usually never. It had Aizawa's hair on end, and he jolted up in an instant.

"Dad." Izuku began, before pausing and taking a deep breath in. "I need your help."

Protective rage was beginning to swell inside of him. Izuku never asked for help unless he was stuck on top of the kitchen cupboards. What had happened, who did he have to kill? Aizawa swallowed and nodded. "Of course, anything. What do you need?"

"I need you to make out on Keigo's sofa."

or Hawks messes up, and Aizawa feels parental pride

Words: 968, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 17 of the weird and the wonderful find their way to Shouta Aizawa

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Dabi | Todoroki Touya, Takami Keigo | Hawks, Midoriya Izuku, Shinsou Hitoshi, Nedzu

Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Dabi | Todoroki Touya/Takami Keigo | Hawks, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Midoriya Izuku, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Shinsou Hitoshi, Midoriya Izuku & Shinsou Hitoshi, Midoriya Izuku & Nedzu

Additional Tags: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead-centric, Crack Treated Seriously, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead Adopts Shinsou Hitoshi, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead Adopts Midoriya Izuku, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead is So Done, Established Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Tired Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Parental Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead | Dadzawa, Ghost Yamada Hisashi, Baking, Family Feels, catnapping, Midoriya Izuku Has a Quirk, Midoriya Izuku is a Little Shit, Nedzu Training Midoriya Izuku, Chaotic Midoriya Izuku, Chaotic Nedzu, Chaotic Shinsou Hitoshi, Dabi | Todoroki Touya is So Done, Dabi | Todoroki Touya is Not a Villain

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47766457

[maskycakes]

Omg I just read your zenitsu reader fic and I LOVED IT SO MUCH! i was thinking if you can do one of the reader being like Mitsuri with Itadori, Megumi and Gojo! No pressure! ( ^ω^ )

a/n : ahhh thank you lovely anon!!!❤️🥺 my iPad kept deleting gojo part grrr this is like the fourth time I’ve rewritten it

proofread? : halfway yup

❤️itadori, megumi and gojo with a mitsuri-like! reader.❤️

YUUJI ITADORI.

you two become best friends in no time!

your laugh is contagious to him. if he catches you trying to hide your snigger, he’ll bust out in laughter

he’s so glad he’s not the only one in the group who loves hugs! both of you have little victory hugs or high fives to celebrate even the littlest of things.

you two gossip all the time, as well. like...that cursed spirit was just so dang UGLY...

at the beginning of your friendship, he’ll notice you start blushing around others and staring at them, and complimenting them a lot.

he doesn’t really know how to feel about that. his first thoughts are..so, do you have a crush on everyone, or do they all remind you of someone??

you’ll need to explain to him that no, you don’t crush on everyone, you just appreciate them all so much!

quick! take a picture of his face of relief!!

loves your compliments. compliment him more, please.

also loves talking to you about anything and everything and nothing!

“do you think anyone’s fallen in love with a cursed spirit before..?....have you?”

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO.

will find you...strange, at first.

wait...are you blushing at him?

to be honest, he doesn’t mind your presence

itadori may have to get him to talk to you for the first week of your growing friendship, though.

but after he’s grown accustomed to you, he’ll be just fine with being with you.

at some point, he’ll ask you why you’re so smitten over everyone, in a similar manner to how itadori would.

like yuuji, just tell him your reasons, or explain the best you can.

it’d be best if you got used to that strange expression he gives you on a regularly basis.

drAG HIM OUT OF HIS DORM PLEASE

you two have a shared playlist<3

“that cursed technique is so-....y/n, you’re staring again.”

SATORU GOJO.

loves teasing you whenever he sees a little blush dusted over your cheeks

he hardly ever gets jealous, so he doesn’t really care if you act like a schoolgirl with a crush toward others.

you feel like he can read your mind?? cus like how does he tease you whenever you’re swooning over him mentally?

he’ll “show off” for you when you’re watching him fight

he may even wink at you if he has his mask off.

buys you pair of his hookup glasses (whether you beg or not) so you two can match!

often buys little souvenirs whenever he goes out and about that reminds himself of you, for you or himself. they’ll usually be light and pastel in colour because those shades remind him of your bubbly personality

tank tops. that’s it that’s the hc

i feel like you’d have different tastes in music, but also the same tastes? like you’d both like romantic music

slow dances with you lots !! (platonic included)

“what’re you thinking about, y/n? lemme guess…..me.”

stay hydrated my lovely tomites!

[shadowed-dancer]

I like the implication that Touya could just go into his old house and walk around. Like he goes to the training room and his old bedroom. He starts talking to his shrine and NO ONE NOTICES

You think he ever went there just to grab food? Fuyumi just trying to get breakfast and she’s like “dammit, I could have sworn I picked up more fruit than this.”

Natsuo after a shower like “hey, sis, did you throw out my shampoo? I can’t find it.”

Touya literally just writing off his family “but they do have nice stuff though” *grabs half the snacks in the cupboard*

[gaysimpsstuff]

Addidentally Injuring Their S/o

Part Two Here

YT Video Here (thanks @vanillaicedlatte-yt)

Genre: a n g s t

Type: Drabble/ Headcannons

Summary: in the heat of an arguement, after a battle, etc., they activate their quirk and Y/n somewhat permanently.

Warnings: gore, blood, fighting/ cursing, crying, burns, toxic relationships, 290 spoilers, endeavor

Other: This was meant to come out yesterday, but shitty mental health got in the way, so yeet. Also, I’m sorry these get worse and worse as they progress, that’s usually how things go for me. This was also inspired by a Tik Tok that I can’t find where Shigaraki accidentally dusts y/n who’s trying to comfort him. It was a Cosplay, if anyone can find it please let me know so I can link it and credit the creator.

Characters: Shigaraki, Dabi, Bakugou, Todoroki

Angst Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy (let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist)

Tomura Shigaraki

It had started as a great day, a perfect day even. Everyone was listening to him, the league was getting news coverage, people were afraid.

Everything was too perfect.

Something was going to go wrong, he was sure of it.

He hated the way everyone was laughing and joking together, Toga helping Magne do her nails, Spinner playing video games with Twice backstage, and you were chatting with Dabi and Compress about the league’s next moves.

Kuroguri was off doing something or other, and he’d mentioned another ‘follower of All For One.’

But something felt off.

And of course you would notice him.

You were hiding at an abandoned theatre, and he was sitting on the edge of the stage, staring out at the empty audience.

You were with Dabi and Compress in the wings, and glanced away from them towards your boyfriend.

He seemed stressed, scratching at his neck vigorously. You sighed, standing up and heading over to him, sitting beside him.

You placed your hand on top of his spare hand, offering him a soft smile.’

“Hey, baby~” you cooed. “How’s my boyfriend doing?”

He grumbled, yanking his hand away from you. Your theory was correct, he was stressed about something.

He didn’t want to talk to anyone, especially not you. You always tried to comfort him and convince him everything was ‘okay’ even when it wasn’t.

“Go away.” He growled. “I’m trying to think.”

“Thinking about what?” You asked, scooching closer to him.

“None of your fucking business!” He snapped at you, and you flinched away from him.

“Tomura, I was just trying to help-“ you frowned at him. He could be immature and bratty at times he’s, but he usually made sure not to get that way with you.

“I don’t give a shit! I don’t need your damn help!” He stood up, marching over to the wings to head backstage. You followed suit.

Compress and Dabi quickly rushed off the stage when they saw Shigaraki heading towards them. Dabi stopped for a moment next to you, looking at you.

“Good luck with him.” He said, jerking his head towards Shigaraki. You shrugged at him.

Shigaraki overheard Dabi’s notion, anger and distress intensifying. Good luck? Good luck?! What the hell was wrong with him?

Dabi and Compres joined Toga and Magne in the red velvet chairs, Compress requesting that he gets his nails done in orange and black when she finished with Magne’s.

Shigaraki pushed aside the large heavy curtains blocking his way backstage, finding Spinner and Twice huddled near a small TV, an old PvP game loading onscreen

They both looked over their shoulders, staring up at their boss. You quickly darted backstage, crouching next to the ‘gamer boiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis’ as they had nicknamed themselves.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered to them. “He’s in a bit of a mood. I’ll take care of it, okay?”

Did he hear you correctly?

A mood?

You’ll ‘take care of it?’

Of it?

What.

The.

Fuck.

“Say that again, to my fuckung face!” Shigaraki screamed at you. “Tell me I’m just ‘iN a MoOd’ again!!”

You turned to him, eyes wide and scared.

“I’m sorry, Tomura, I didn’t mean it like that- I just didn’t want our friends to worry!”

“They aren’t our fucking friends! They just work for us- they work for me!” He corrected himself.

You stood up, flicking your wrist to motion for Twice and Spinner to leave. They quickly turned off their game and rushed away.

“You might not consider them our friends, but they’re certainly my friends. And I won’t let you scare my friends.” You stood your ground, taking a step towards him.

He scoffed, turning around and marching back onstage. You sighed, following after him, again.

“Please, Tomura talk to me. I’m your partner I want to help you!” You exclaimed. “You’re worrying me, please!”

“Well I don’t want to fucking talk!” He shouted, “and I don’t have to!”

“Please, Tenko!”

“THAT’S NOT MY NAME!”

Red.

He saw red.

His hand flew away from him before he could stop himself, a target missile. It’s destination? Your face.

You lifted your hands instinctively, and he grabbed your wrist, fingers curling around your skin.

In that moment, all he felt was relief. Thank fucking god you’d lifted your arms. It was the one thing that has saved you from him.

You screamed, pain shooting up through you from your arm. Your skin peeled, falling away in tiny fragments of dust.

The dust fell around his fingers, your hand and wrist were completely gone now.

You felt someone pull you backwards, and you saw a glint of silver as Toga quickly severed your arm, blood spilling onto the floor of the stage where the pile of dust that used to be your arm lay.

You fell to your knees, screaming, reaching up and clutching at your elbow- the point of separation- desperately, trying to will your arm back into existence.

“TOMURA!” You shrieked, tears falling down your cheeks. “TOMURA! FIX IT!!”

It was hopeless, you knew there was no way for him to un-dust you. You fell forward, forehead pressed against the floor.

Shigaraki took a step back, glancing at his hand. There were a few speckles of dust resting on his palm. His breath quickened, eyes widening as he cupped his other hand over his mouth.

He stared down at you, Blood staining your shirt as you screamed and cried.

It must have hurt.

He remembered the promise he’d made after you’d started dating, when he’d protected you from some assholes trying to mug you.

“I promise you, I’m going to protect you. Nothing, no one, will lay a hand on you ever again.”

It was a promised meant against anyone who posed a threat to you.

He never meant to become a threat himself.

Touya Todoroki/ Dabi

Some days were always going to be better than others, that’s simply how it works when you’re recovering from trauma.

Today was one of the bad days.

He’d woken up with a thick, heavy, dark feeling in his chest.

He wasn’t even comforted by the warmth your body produced next to him.

Most days he’d roll over and wrap his arm around your body, pulling you close to his body to cuddle you.

This morning however, Dabi rolled away from you and climbed out of bed. You looked over your shoulder at him, confused and slightly hurt. Did you do something to make him upset last night?

You followed after your angsty boyfriend, walking out of the bedroom and down the hall into the kitchen.

He crashed at your apartment a lot, being a villain it was hard to get his own home. You didn’t know where he stayed when he wasn’t at your place.

He grabbed a box of cereal out of the cupboards, pouring himself a bowl. You pulled the milk out of the fridge, handing it to him with a smile.

He scrunched up his nose at your kindness, snatching the carton from your hand and angrily pulling the cap off.

You sighed, nervously pouring yourself a bowl as Dabi started to eat. He didn’t even bother to sit at the table.

“Hey, babe? You okay? You seem kind of... off today.”

Your boyfriend glanced down at you, cerulean eyes seemingly staring right through you.

“M’fine.” He grunted. Your frown tightened.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t believe that.” You shook your head at him.

Dabi glared down at you in annoyance. His scowl deepening. You took a step back, concerned and scared.

“Dabi, please talk to me.” You pleaded with him.

“Uzéndayo.” He grumbled angrily. “Fuck off.”

“Please, you’ll hurt my feelings.” You scoffed sarcastically. “You can talk to me, y’know.”

“Don’t fuckin need to. Leave me alone.”

“Dabi, this is my place. I’m not leaving you alone.”

“Then I’ll leave!” He snapped, brushing past you and leaving his cereal on the counter to sog.

He snatched his jacket off the back of the couch, shrugging it onto his shoulders.

“Seriously, Dabi! What the hell’s going on! Did I do something wrong?”

It pissed him off further to hear you blame yourself. You always thought it was your fault, but it never was.

“Oh shut the fuck up for once! Quit thinking it’s all about you! It’s not always about you!”

“Dabi just fucking talk to me! I’m not letting you leave until you tell me what’s wrong!”

You stepped in front of the door, flinging your arms open to block ilhis exit. He looked you in the eyes, seething.

“Nothing happened!” He shouted “Sometimes I’m just angry for no reason! Get out of my way and I’ll take my anger out on some rando and not on you. Then I’ll come back and we can pretend this never happened.”

“Dabi I won’t let you just kill some innocent person because you’re upset! Just sit with me and we can talk it out and-“

“That’s always your solution! Quit being a wimpy pacifist and move!”

“I’m not a pacifist, I just don’t think you should kill without reason!”

“Well I have a fucking reason!”

“And what’s that?”

“I want to!”

“That’s not a reason!”

“Just get out of my fucking way or I’ll make you!”

“Dabi, just talk to me!”

It was the last thing you said before he grabbed your arm and pulled your body forward to meet his. Your chest pressed against his, his face right in front of yours.

It’d be hot if you weren’t so scared.

“Listen here you little shit,” he growled, low and angry “I’m stronger than you in every fucking way.”

“Dabi?”

“I could kill you in an instant if I so desired.”

“Dabi-“

“Incinerate your filthy annoying ass any day I want, so be fucking grateful for once and watch your damn mouth!”

“Dabi!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LISTEN! I am superior to you in every way, you should be grateful I even share oxygen with you!”

“DABI YOU’RE HURTING ME!”

“I DON’T CARE IF IT HURTS, LISTEN TO ME YOU DIRTY MOTHERFUCKER!” He screamed in your face, eyes wild with unchecked rage.

Tears flowed down your face as you sobbed, indescribable pain was shooting up through your arms.

Dabi’s eyes finally drifted downwards, and he froze, mouth falling slack.

Smoke was billowing off his hands, and his knuckles were white with how hard he was gripping you.

He snapped his hands away from you, curling them into his body as his eyes widened. He took a few steps back.

There were black scorch marks on your body in the shape of his hands. They looked real bad.

“Get out.” You whispered, so soft he couldn’t hear.

“W-what?”

“GET OUT!” You screamed, pointing at the door despite the intense pain in your arms. “GET OUT OR I’M CALLING THE POLICE!”

“B-baby I’m sorry!” He shouted “I didn’t mean to, I promise!”

“I DON’T GIVE A SHIT! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOME BEFORE I TURN YOU IN!”

Dabi stumbled past you, quickly rushing out of your apartment and shutting the door behind him.

His back was pressed against the wood as he slid down, covering his face as he listened to your sobs on the other side, hearing your footsteps fade into the bathroom, probably to run cold water on your skin.

For a moment, all the could think about was the cereal on the counter, getting soggy.

“Fuck.” He muttered, eyes burning as they tried to produce tears without his tear ducts.

“I’m so fucking sorry.”

Shoto Todoroki

Shit wrong emo scar boy with daddy issues, fire powers, and an evil older sibling with blue fire

There we go

It was a shitty day. 

Well, most days were shitty days, but today was shittier than usual. 

A home visit, Endeavor trying to act like he was ‘upset about everything that happened,’ and pretending he was the victim in the situation.

It would be enough to set anyone on edge, especially Shouto. 

So it wasn’t much of a surprise when he returned to the dorms with a deep frown on his face.

Even when Midoriya, Iida, and Uraraka tried to talk to him, he still seemed angry the whole time. There was really only one thing that should be able to cheer him up. Let’s hope you do your job well.

“Knock knock~ Shouto it’s me!” you stood on the outside of Shouto’s dorm. You knew Shouto must be stressed, so you’d gotten him some brownies from the sweets cupboard, Sato’s locks were easy to pick.

“I don’t want to fucking talk.” his response was blunt, clearly annoyed that you’d bothered his brooding. “Go away.”

You sighed, he could act like such a child sometimes!

“Shouto, I just want to cheer you up! Let me in, babe.” a moment later, he swung the door open, am annoyed glare on his face. You smiled sweetly at him, handing him the plate of brownies. His hands remained in his pockets, glancing down at the brownies then back up at you.

“Um... can I come in?” you asked quietly. He shrugged, stepping aside to let you in. You stepped past him, sitting on the edge of the platform bed, setting the brownies on the nightstand. 

Shouto closed the door behind him, turning to face you.

“Do... do you want to talk about it?” Shouto huffed, shaking his head and looking away from you.

“Do I look like I want to talk?” he snapped. You flinched, his tone was harsh.

“Shouto I just want to help, you don’t need to be rude.”

“I don’t give a shit if I’m being ‘rude.’“ He growled, arms crossed. 

His eyes stared coldly at you. Yeah, he was definetly upset.

“That’s okay, we can chat about something else. Oh, Sato probably needs to change the lock on the sweets cupboard, I kinda broke it getting you these brownies!” you looked up at him, smile faltering as he looked down his nose at you. “Are... are you mad at me?”

“Wow, you just noticed that.” he rolled his eyes. “I told you to go away but you didn’t.”

“I-I’m sorry, I was just really worried about you. You’re my boyfriend and I love you, I don’t like seeing you upset.”

“Then maybe you should try fucking listening to me for once. If I don’t want to talk, then you can’t make me talk.” You nodded, apologizing again.

“Oh my god shut the fuck up!” he shouted. “You’re always talking, always apologizing, you’re getting on my fucking nerves!”

“Okay!” you stood up quickly, lifting your hands defensively. “I’ll just leave!”

You brushed past him on your way to the door, hesitating on the handle. You glanced over your shoulder at him.

“Would you fucking stop with the pity?” you looked at the ground, not saying anything.

You heard the slap before you felt it.

The sting shot through your face, and you could hear Shouto shouting at you, but it was muffled. You didn’t know what he was saying. 

You lifted your hand to your cheek, hissing in pain. He didn’t just slap you,

He used his fire.

You choked on your words, turning to look at your boyfriend with tear-filled eyes.

Shouto was looking at you with a look of sheer horror on his face.

“I’m sorry...” you whimpered. “I’m going-” you slipped out the door, ignoring Shouto’s shout for you to turn back and talk to him

That it was an accident.

That he didn’t mean it.

That didn’t matter.

Katsuki Bakugou/ Dynamight

Fuck Icy-Hot. 

Fuck. Him.

He said he’d gotten stronger since the Summer Camp, but he hadn’t at all.

He was still loosing to Todoroki, and no matter how hard he was working, he still kept loosing to him.

His hand was buried in his hair, tugging harshly every so often as he listened to you ramble about something that happened during your work study.

Even you were getting ahead of him, his own partner was getting stronger than him. He’d promised he’d protect you, but that would be useless if you kept improving faster than him.

“Then afterwords, FatGum took me, Kirishima, and Amajiki to this resturaunt, and the owner turned out to be a huge fan of FatGum, she gave us free desert! Oh my gosh the cake was so good!” you exclaimed, laughing a little.

Bakugou grumbled under his breath a little, keeping his eyes away from your estatic face. 

“Great.” you glanced back to your boyfriend from where you sat at your desk, eyebrows furroring. Usually, Katsuki would give you one of those proud smirks all like ‘that’s my partner,’ but today he seemed upset.

“You alright, Katsuki? Was your provisional licence class stressful today?” you asked sympathetically, moving your hand towards him to comfort him. 

He yanked his hand away from you, shooting you a pissed off look.

“Fuck no.” he growled. “Even if it was, I can handle it. I don’t need your damn help.” you rested your hand on your lap.

“I know, Katsuki. My boyfriend’s so strong!” you smiled brightly at him. Usually complimenting him would make him feel better, but today it seemed to only piss him off more.

“Shut up.” he hunched over, curling into himself more. He pulled one leg up to his chest, holding it under his knee. 

“Uh.. are you sure you’re okay?” you asked, cocking your head to the side gently.

“I’m fucking fine!” He snapped, keeping his eyes anywhere but on you. “I don’t need your pity!”

“Pity? Katsuki I’m not pitying you, I’m worried for you. You’re my boyfriend and I want you to be happy so-”

“Didn’t I say to shut up?” he stood up, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Don’t give me your worry, fight me instead!”

“Why the hell would I fight you, Katsuki? I already know you’re stronger than me!”

“Fucking how? You got that new work study you’re constantntly talking about! How haven’t you gotten stronger than me?”

“Is that what this is about? I’ve only been at my work study for a few days, how in the world could I have leaped leagues in that amount of time to reach your level?”

“Then why even join that stupid work study if you’re not getting stronger?”

“I am getting stronger, just not fast enough to be at your level that quickly!” you explained. “Sorry?”

“Ugh just shut the fuck up!” he shouted, storming out of your dorm and down the hall to the common room. There were a only a few people in there,

Yao-Momo and Jirou in the kitchen, Kirishima and Kaminari on the couches, and Sero was leaning over the back of the couch. They all looked up when Bakugou stormed in with you on his tail.

“Katsuki, you’re confusing me! What’s going on? How can I help? Is it something I did?” 

“Just leave me alone, okay? Go away!” he shouted over his shoulder. Kaminari, Kirishima, Sero, Jirou, and Yaoyorazu all snapped their heads towards you and Bakugou.

“Katsuki, please! You’re scaring me!” you glanced over at your friends, Jirou and Yao-Momo glancing between each other and muttering. 

“Yo, Kachan, the hell’s going on between you and Y/n?” Kaminari asked, standing up. Sero hissed at him to sit down if he wanted to keep his head.

“I’m sorry, Kaminari, Bakugou’s upset and I don’t know why-”

“Don’t know why? Quit it with the lies! I hate liars!”

“I-I’m not lying! I really don’t know!” you reached forward, latching your hand onto his wrist. “Please just talk to me!”

“BULLSHIT!” he snapped his hand away from yours. “You’re a fucking liar!”

“Bakubro, calm down!” Kirishima stood up, briskly walking over to the two of you. 

“STAY OUT OF THIS!” Bakugou slammed his palm against Kirishima’s face, setting off a small explosion.

“KIRISHIMA!” You ran to his side as the smoke cleared, finding his face hardened.

“I’m okay, I’m okay!” he assured you. He offered you a small smile, suddenly, he yelped and ducked, avoiding another hit from Bakugou.

“LET GO OF THEM!” he shouted, and his hand sparked twice before setting off again. This time right next to your face.

You hit the ground first, then felt stinging pain across your face and shoulder.

You didn’t even hear your own screaming because of the fact that he blew up your ears.

You didn’t register Kirishima picking you up, or Bakugou staring after you in fear, or the others in the room scolding Bakugou or worrying about you.

All you knew in that moment was pain.

Pure, white hot, agonizing pain.

[fuwushiguro]

The Pinks and Blues, The Yellow Hues

Day Twenty-Seven: Cucking | 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Dabi x f!reader x Hawks Genre: Smut Notes: Dabi is mean but he doesn't like it when he gets a taste of his own medicine 🤧 Warnings: 18+, dubcon/noncon, vaginal sex, manipulation, voyeurism, cheating, fingering, handjob (a lil DabiHawks action), alcohol, drugging, bondage, cucking, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, daddy kink, creampies, overstimulation, virginity loss. Words: 3.9k

Whose idea was it to take a trip to your parent’s holiday home in Bali again? You like to think it was you; it’s better than thinking you were manipulated into it by your boyfriend. Touya isn’t a bad guy, he just knows what he wants. Always. He wanted you, he got you. He wanted your virginity, he got it. He wanted this trip, and here you are. You flew out before him. You wanted time to set up and get organised. You got balloons and rose petals to try and make the place a little romantic. It was your first vacation together, after all. But it was less than desirable news when Touya called you a few days after you landed. The day before his flight. He’s bringing a plus one.

He should have asked before inviting his best friend Keigo along.

All hostility towards your boyfriend is dropped when you see him. This is the longest you’ve been apart since you began dating. He sees you bounding towards him, he drops his luggage to the ground and picks you up in his welcoming arms. It’s easy to blame the scorching weather, but you flush hot when he asked if you missed him. He missed you. You’re his favourite girl, why wouldn’t he miss you?

He sets you down so he can introduce you to Keigo. You’ve heard of Keigo, sure, but this was the first time you were meeting him. High school best friends, apparently. You met Touya at a gig in the big city. And you found out later you were attending the same university.

Keigo seems sweet. A warm smile and honey eyes you could easily get lost in.

He expresses his surprise that Touya managed to secure himself a beauty such as yourself. Touya thwacks him jovially with the back of his hand before picking up his luggage again.

He wants to see inside. He wants to see the bedroom.

You take them both inside. Of course you’ll show Touya where you’ll be sleeping for the next two weeks, but did he really think you weren’t going to give them both a tour of the whole place?

The look in his eye was obvious. He’d had a long flight. And did you hear him? He missed you. He really fucking missed you, y’know? Yeah sure. He missed talking to you in person, he missed your scent, he missed your warm embrace. But he missed you. Your body. He doesn’t really care about the house right now. He needs to see your form wrapped around him, the way he’s moulded you to fit him perfectly, and he wants to look at your pretty face while he ruins you. You’ll let him, right? He’s sure you’ve missed him, too.

“Babe, bedroom.” he commands, already walking in the direction of the room you explained would be yours. You don’t follow, however.

“No, Touya, you’re not my only guest. Have some manners.” you respond. You lightly graze Keigo’s shoulder before showing him the rest of the house. Touya feels like a fucking idiot right now. Since when have you ever been able to turn him down? It’s almost like having some time apart from him has granted you the ability to wriggle out from under his thumb, if only a little. But Christ, this shouldn’t be happening.

Why did he bring Keigo again?

He managed to stave off his temptations after your initial rejection. Fortunately, the rest of the evening was very enjoyable. You’d stocked up on plenty of alcohol, although you opted not to drink too much. That was the general consensus in the room. Two or three beers each, nothing crazy.

Neither of the boys could believe it when you appeared from the cupboard with a pile of board games in hand. They aren’t usually Keigo’s thing, but you assure him there’s nothing better than a few drinks and some board games. Well, monopoly definitely would have been more enjoyable if Touya didn’t flip the board in a rage when he hit bankruptcy. Yourself and Keigo were laughing so hard your stomachs hurt. Touya laughed too, maybe it was a little over the top.

“I’m actually crying, that was so funny Touya.” you announce. They both look at you to confirm the tears streaming down your face. You did your best to wipe them away with your fingers, but they wouldn’t stop coming.

“Here,” Keigo speaks. He picks a packet of tissues from the inside of his pocket. Touya kisses his teeth, of course golden boy is prepared. What kind of a grown man carries tissues around with him, anyway?

“Ignore him,” you respond taking a tissue from Keigo’s hand. “thank you Kei, I appreciate it.”

“Oh… He’s Kei now, huh?” Touya teases, jostling his elbow lightly into your side.

The cute nickname makes Keigo blush ever so slightly. It isn’t picked up by you nor Touya. It’s sweet, a few people call him Kei, Touya isn’t one of them. To Touya he’s just Keigo. Occasionally he’s ‘bird bitch’ – an endearing insult upon his high school nickname: Hawks.

Tensions are high as you pull out a deck of cards. The boys want to play poker, how trite. You tell them so, too. They clearly just want to prove what real men they are. You don’t know how to play, and you’re not letting them play without you when you don’t know the rules. So, they sigh when you tell them the options are snap or go fish. It’s nice to see them actually have a smile on each of their faces as you all enjoy a game of go fish together. It’s relaxing but still fun. Snap, however, is another matter. Tensions are high and you’re all anxious. Mistaken snaps are laughed at and then you all almost blow the roof off with your yells when you see two cards that match.

You congratulate Keigo on his win, and then announce that you’re tired.

Touya jumps to his feet. There’s only one thing on his mind, finally – you. He’s practically growling in your ear. “C’mon baby, bed.” he whispers, not quietly enough for it to go amiss by Keigo. Why did Touya invite him here? He didn’t come all of the way to Bali to listen to you guys fuck for two weeks. He huffs, and retires to his own bedroom.

But Touya misunderstood, massively. You had zero intention of fucking him. Didn’t he hear you? You’re tired. As you lay on your side in the darkness of the room, Touya spoons you. He really is desperate. It’s more than that, he’s aching for you.

“Baby… please.” he begs, “I’ll do all the work. Just… let me finger you at least.”

Poor, poor Touya. He really needs it bad, huh? You suspect it’s a carefully thought-out plan in his mind. If he fingers you, you’ll get horny, and you’ll want his cock. That’s how it always goes down. But tonight, you’re determined to stay strong. You don’t want his cock. But you won’t turn away an offer of his perfect fingers playing so nicely with your pussy.

You’ve always been a quiet moaner, it doesn’t bother Touya. It just makes it extra special when he coaxes a louder one out of you. He’s seated a little upright with your back against his chest. One of his hand slips under your wife-beater vest to touch your nipples. He rolls them carefully between his callused fingers. His other hand, his dominant hand, is teasing your folds. An embarrassing moan falls from your lips when you witness him suck two fingers into his mouth, wetting them before they make contact with your clit.

Even at your quietest, it doesn’t go unheard by Keigo. He lies awake with the sounds of your sweet huffs ringing through his ears. Touya is mumbling something, but it’s barely audible.

Touya is furious when he makes you cum and you still don’t want to fuck him. You roll over and fall right the fuck asleep. He supposes his own fist will have to do. Keigo has heard enough. Hearing you moan isn’t the worst thing in the world, but the last thing he wants to do is listen to his best friend cum all over himself. Keigo jumps out of bed and heads towards the kitchen, a nice drink of water before bed will clear his mind, he hopes.

He stands facing the sink with a glass in hand, he’s taking his time. His idea didn’t work, all he could think about was you. Keigo startles as he hears the door to your bedroom open, regaining composure when he hears his friends heavy feet slapping against the tiled flooring. He makes no effort to close the bathroom door quietly after himself, isn’t he concerned about waking you up? Of course he isn’t, he knows you’re a heavy sleeper.

Keigo assumed he’d go right back to bed after he’d cleaned himself up.

He thought wrong.

“Oh, you’ve had the same idea as me, huh?” Touya speaks, trying to remember which cupboard the glasses live in.

“I guess so,” Keigo answers without turning around, “nearest to the fridge, idiot.”

Touya snickers before retrieving a glass. It isn’t lost on him that he only knows that because he actually paid attention to you when you gave your tour; while Touya couldn’t focus at all with thoughts of fucking you senseless running through his head. He approaches Keigo, eager for access to the sink.

“Can I—?” Touya asked, wanting him to move away. It was uncomfortable, for whatever reason Keigo was still refusing to face his friend. Touya filled his glass and shrugged his shoulders. Whatever was going on, his curiosity would have to wait until he’d quenched his thirst. Keigo cringed at the audible sounds of Touya swallowing his water. The liquid spilled from the corners of his mouth and ran down his chin. He voiced an overdramatic ‘ah’ as he drained every drop from his glass. He slammed it down on the counter top, wiping away any traces from his mouth with the back of his hand. “Somethin’ wrong?”

“No.”

“Then why won’t you look at me?” Touya wonders. “Oh… you heard us, huh?”

“N-No, I—”

“She’s quiet. And you still heard. Hm. Did you like it? Get off on my girlfriend cumming around my fingers?” Touya pestered. His usual lilt in his tone making it all the more irritating. He’s such a bastard, Keigo wonders why he’s friends with him sometimes.

“Shut up, I’d never—”

“That’s why you aren’t facing me, you’re ashamed right?” he continues. “Fucking face me!” Touya speaks raising his voice. He shoves Keigo’s shoulder enough to make him look at him. Finally, he sees what the problem is. He sees why Keigo was so reluctant to turn to him. How humiliating. How… interesting. “Aw, your cocks all hard for my girlfriend.”

Keigo is red in the face and hot to the touch. Why’d you have to be so cute, huh? So nice and sweet to him too. He feels like a creep. A gross, weird letch. But how could he not get hard when he thinks you’re so pretty and perfect? He pushes Touya to leave, entirely over the conversation and desperate to return to bed and forget the whole thing.

Wind is knocked out from under him as Touya pushes him, pinning Keigo against the nearest wall. He tries to yell, to argue. But soon Touya is pulling down both Keigo’s boxers and his own sweatpants, freeing their hardened lengths. Before Keigo can argue, Touya’s hand is wrapped firmly around his shaft, pumping away and revealing just how wet he got over the sound of his fingers in his girlfriends cunt.

“T-Touya,” Keigo mutters. “Fuck, f-fuck you. What are you—?”

“Pretend it’s her,” Touya commands, showing no signs of stopping as he jerks off his blonde friend. “your cock is so wet f’me… Just pretend my hand is her sweet little cunt.”

Keigo shudders at the thought. But he can’t bring himself to push away Touya. His eyes are closed. He’s imagining, he’s imagining you. Your lovely, melodic voice as you speak so kindly to him. Your charming laugh. Your breathy moans.

He doesn’t know how to handle himself when Touya smashes his lips against his own. It’s a fierce entanglement as he establishes dominance over his pathetic, weak friend. Touya’s body is pressed close to his, humping him gently as he continues tugging on his cock. He sucks and bites hickeys into his neck as he continues working him. The sensations are exhilarating.

“You’re still a virgin, right?” Touya questions. Keigo nods, shamefully. “You’d love her tasty pussy, it’s tight. You’d think she’s still a virgin, too.”

“O-Ohh – fuck – Touya, please.”

“Please what?” he wonders, hand rubbing over Keigo’s fat cock head. His pre leaking and dribbling in the palm of his hand, “Please, keep telling you about my girls little snatch? Hm?”

Keigo can’t stop himself from humping into Touya’s palm. It’s the most action he’s gotten in his entire life. He’s helpless to the touch. His eyes remain firmly closed as he tries to lose focus on the thought that it’s your hand instead of his. What the fuck is wrong with Touya? He knew he was an asshole, but he didn’t think he was so low as to cheat. He didn’t even know he had a thing for men. Or is this just a sick power trip for him?

“What is it about her? Hm? What makes your cock hard for my girlfriend?” Touya asks, picking up the pace with his hand as his own rutting length against Keigo becomes harder.

“Fuck, u-um,” Keigo groans. It’s broken speech as he tries to gather his spiralling thoughts. His head is thrown back and he licks his lips. Chest heaving as he tries to recall what exactly it was that made him feel like this. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows in tandem with his thoughts. “She’s j-just, just nice, Touya. Really nice.”

“I know baby, she’s my fucking girlfriend after all.” he speaks, twisting his wrist to add more friction to his pulls along Keigo’s shaft. He was grabbing onto anything to steel himself, finding it increasingly difficult to hold back. “Gonna cum? Huh, Kei? Pound her f’me. Fill her little cunt up.”

“J-Jesus, Touya—”

“She’s so close, fill her up. Let her milk this cock.” Touya begins stroking himself for the second time that evening, fully hard and ready to cum right along with his friend. Keigo’s hips are bucking wildly against his hand. “That’s it baby, good boy.” Touya taunts. Keigo knows he’s picking on him, trying to make him feel small and pathetic under his touch and the weight of his words. But fuck, it fucking works.

Keigo’s cum jets out of him. It’s almost outrageous, coating both his own and Touya’s abs. Touya’s hand is completely covered, the tacky sounds of him continuing to masturbate him through his high makes Keigo cringe. He feels disgusting when he feels warmth at his pelvic bone. Touya’s cum dribbles out of him and onto Keigo. The blonde’s chest is heaving, unable to believe his first orgasm with another person was due to his best friend. Touya’s recovery time is almost immediate, though a little out of breath, he makes quick work of cleaning his friends white cream from his abs and his fingers.

“Messy boy, such a big big mess Keigo. Aren’t you embarrassed? You just sprayed yourself.”

Touya pats his shoulder and turns a corner, heading back to lay by your side. It’s the type of pat you give a friend after a pep talk. Keigo supposes that’s kind of what this was. Just a little less talking than expected.

How is he going to look you in the eye tomorrow?

He doesn’t. He avoids you as best he can, in fact, Touya as well. He lounges outside on the sunbeds topping up his tan. He isn’t seen without an alcoholic beverage by his side all day.

This goes on for numerous days. You start to worry if you did something wrong – you didn’t, of course, Touya assures you of that. Apparently the ‘bird bitch’ loves to go in little sulks from time to time.

He’s assures you he’ll come out of it eventually.

You hope he’s right.

And he is.

Keigo randomly comes out of his funk, expressing he’s eager to make cocktails for everyone tonight. He’s known at his own university for making the best drinks, allegedly. Touya gives him credit, too. He makes a mean long island iced tea. And tonight, you do decide to get drunk.

You’re only here a limited time after all, right?

It seems Touya got more than he bargained for with his own cocktail. What was the reason a handsome man such as Keigo had never been able to fuck someone? Because he’s a socially awkward creep who loves drugs. He loves them so much, he brought some along for the trip. Touya, despite appearances, has never touched a drug in his life. He thinks it’s a fools game and wants no part of it.

So, it hits him hard.

Perfect for Keigo, he wants revenge. And he wants you, for real this time.

Touya comes around, tied to a chair with zip ties. Each of his legs is connected to a leg of the chair, and his arms are bound behind his back. He can’t be seeing what he thinks he is, can he? Everything is too blurry. But it comes more focused. Yes, he is seeing exactly what he thought. Keigo balls deep in his girlfriends hole.

“T-Touya-“ you whimper.

“Oh, finally awake huh?” Keigo says, Touya fights against his ties to no avail, “Made her pussy sound so good, wanted a test run for myself.” Keigo tells him.

“Get away from her. I’ll fucking kill you, bastard!” Touya bites. Keigo hisses.

He forces your knees closer to your chest as he fucks harder into you. You’re a little louder than normal. Touya’s panicking now, is it because he’s better than him? That can’t be. He’s a fucking virgin, after all. Your head rolls to the side, and then it becomes clear to him. It’s because you’re crying. Fuck. You’re crying. He wants to rip Keigo’s throat out. But he’s helpless against the ties.

He’s been fucking you for a little while already. It’s obvious he’s been watching too much porn, you instantly deduce that he has little experience or knowledge. He plunged inside of your gummy walls with one thrust, and rutted into you slowly. You weren’t sure if he was trying to get you used to his size or if he was trying not to cum on the spot.

“You better fucking get off her and let me go, she’s mine!”

“She’s mine now, Touya.”

He couldn’t stand to see this. And he couldn’t stand how helpless he felt. All he could do was see your sweet face knot as his friend put all of his weight behind each thrust and his fat cock head pounded against your cervix. It felt good, of course, but it wasn’t Touya.

He hates himself. He hates how he feels, he’s never felt so disgusted with himself. But with a soft laugh, Keigo grabs your jaw in one hand and forces you to face your boyfriend.

“I think he likes seeing you get fucked sweetheart, his cocks hard.”

“I’ll kill you for this.”

The threat falls on deaf ears as Keigo continues his assault on your body. He had no idea pussy could feel so good. And Touya was right, you were fucking tight around him. Just like he said – you could be mistaken for a virgin.

He wasn’t sure of himself or confident in his actions, but he lowered his head and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth. Keigo thought it’s something he should do, rather than it be something he wanted to do. You were staring at Touya, the way his cock was twitching at the sight in his sweats. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to be mad or not. He can’t help it, and he can’t help you. And still, you feel so betrayed.

Keigo forces you to look him in the eyes again. Grabbing your face and turning you to face him, his forehead rests on yours. Panting breaths dust over your features.

“Look at me, not him. I’m the one fucking you. I’m the one making your pussy feel good.”

Touya was doing all he could to fight against his restraints. He knew it was hopeless. He knew he couldn’t help you. All he could do was sit and watch the show.

It amused him how quickly Keigo came, and you had made no indication that you were going to cum along with him. But even with his dick softening, he didn’t care. He didn’t want to be done with you. He didn’t want to let go of the warmth your pussy brought. A feeling of belonging.

Touya could feel his balls tightening. No way. No fucking way is he gonna cum hands free. He is though, he can feel it building up. He’s fucking aching and the way you’re crying and doing your best to take his friends length is getting to him. He’s sweating, he can feel it drip from his hairline and down by his ears.

“Keigo fucking untie me!” Touya orders, a begging tone behind his usually calm and collected speech. You’re both facing him now. You can see the way he’s writhing around and desperate for his release. Keigo smirks. “Please!”

“Tell daddy how good my cock feels sweetheart, how big I am.” Keigo demands.

“’m so full, daddy. So full of his cock, so big f’me.” you tell him.

You’re biting your lips and rutting your hips against his. This time you think you will cum with Keigo. You can’t help it either. You cum softly, breathing sweetly in Keigo’s ear. He forces you to kiss him. This is love, isn’t it? It’s got to be. He isn’t long after you, filling you for a second time with his love. Your body is spent. For such a quick lay you sure feel fucked out.

He pulls out and flips you onto your stomach. Keigo forces you to bend one of your knees and moves it up by your side like a common sleeping position. He just wants to split your pretty pussy lips open so that Touya can see what he did. His watery cum gushes out of your clenching hole, missing the feeling of being full of his erection.

It’s enough to make Touya cum against his will. It all remains securely in his sweats since he was unable to lower them himself. Keigo stands to his feet, freeing his friends cock to see for himself. Damn, it’s almost impressive. Thick creamy white release is webbing in his sweatpants and completely coating his drained cock. Should his ego be so swollen for making Touya cum without touching himself? Was he that good at fucking you?

“Messy boy, such a big big mess Touya,” Keigo jeers, throwing Touya’s words right back at him.

“Fuck you.”

“Aw… Are you embarrassed? You sprayed all over yourself.”

© 2021 fuwushiguro

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