accidentcache

[accidentcache]

more 27au lore. not beta read, canon divergent so slightly ooc tomura?? idc. reader has backstory so that's kinda oc-ish. enjoy <3 more 27au lore can be found here!! (highly recommend if this doesn't really click)

the day that tenko meets you, he points out that weird snaggle tooth that sits just off to the side of your canine. he says it so innocently too, like it's a genuine observation. it still burns inside your chest, still makes heat crawl up your neck and nestle at the shell of your ear.

he's wearing gloves. he touches the tips together and his eyes don't meet yours. he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet as you stare at him— the silence feels too heavy for kids your age.

you want to keep swinging, but something tells you to stop.

your mother is nowhere in sight. she either left to grab something down at the corner shop, or she's around the corner doing… whatever she usually does when the two of you come to the park on wednesdays. she's always told you not to ask questions, so you don't. it's not like you can't smell the cigarette smoke lingering on her clothes or how she left the house with a bra and got back into the car at the end of the day without one.

even if you are only ten, there's some things you understand. even if it's not that well, either.

tenko only stands to the side and watches. he watches how your eyes flit over the small crowd of parents, as if desperately seeking out your own— only for you to school the disappointment that inevitably forms.

he doesn't say anything else. either because he doesn't know what to say, or physically can't force himself to do so.

the next time you see him is at the same playground. whether it be some kind of cruel fate or weird opportunity, tenko finds you swinging by yourself once again and this time decides to sit beside you on the next swing over. he doesn't say anything at first.

"did you ever find your mom?"

your hands tighten around the metal chains of the swing. he's scarily perceptive. by now both of you are thirteen, older but only somewhat more mature. there's still childlike gestures that the two of you do, words that don't quite make sense. actions that aren't quite explainable.

the tip of your shoe kicks at the mulch under the swing. by some weird coincidence, you recognize him. crimson eyes and baby teal hair, skin that seems too dry for his hands to handle. even now, he scratches at the back of his neck as he stares ahead. he slouches forward and his feet don't leave the ground as he tries to match your pace swinging.

it's silent. something you're accustomed to.

"sometimes i miss my mom," he murmurs.

your head tilts to look at him. "didn't she bring you here?"

tenko swallows next to you. his hands shake— but you can tell he's hiding just how badly they're trembling. "no. sensei brought me here. he thought it'd cheer me up or something."

"oh."

another stretch of silence begins. you can audibly hear how your heels dig into the mulch and drag in the dirt as you swing lazily, tenko copies the same movements. eventually the two of you sync together, his legs stretch when yours does, bends when yours bend.

"what's your name?" he asks after a moment.

you hesitate. "[y/n]."

tenko nods. he chews on the inside of his lip and his fingers pick at each other. "i'm tenko. supposed to go by tomura now."

something clicks weird in your chest. "so… tenko, or tomura?"

that's when tenko decides to turn his head to actually look at you. your eyes meet and something strange falls into place between the two of you. there's a harshness that's not quite fleshed out in those eyes of his, an anger simmering that doesn't know where to land. but when he looks at you, all you can see is a plea.

"tomura," he says after a moment. he says it like his tongue is weighed down with something. "tomura shigaraki."

your fingers are frozen by the time tomura gets the window unlocked. snow curls around the both of you, dusting your cheeks into a rosy hue and littering tomura's hair with little flakes. you have to turn your head to keep yourself from grinning like an idiot at the sight of him— thankfully he's busying himself with sliding through the open crack of the window.

once he's inside, open palms are spread and waiting to catch you on your descent. you open your mouth to tell him that you're fine and don't need his help, but at that glorious moment; fate decides that you need an extra push and your fingers slip from their grasp on the window sill.

tomura rushes forward to catch you. the soft material of his winter gloves latch onto your coat and he steadies you before you look like an absolute fool.

he's close. closer than he usually is. close enough that you can see the faint blush along his cheeks and how his eyes have seemed to dilate at the new proximity.

and like two flustered teenagers in love, the two of you scatter and pull apart from each other, dusting invisible dirt off your coats.

there's a chill from the window behind you. even though the wind is actively trying to seep into your bones, you still feel frozen— tomura catches on and motions for you to follow him. you have a brief thought of propping the window open for a quick escape if something decides to go sideways— a random block wedged securely in the windowsill eases the thought and you trail after tomura without another word.

the mall is dark, with the minimal security lights that flicker overhead. it's a good thing tomura knows where he's going because you would've jumped out of your skin by the third fluctuation.

tomura stops by the arcade. the main lights are out, but some of the machines that don't need to be plugged in are still glint and whir with music. there's an almost gleeful expression that melts along your lips— one that matches tomura's as the both of you lock your gaze on the one game the two of you have been dying to play here lately.

an old vintage mortal combat machine sits in the back corner. the menu loops every other minute, calling the both of you like a siren in the middle of the ocean.

you lock eyes with tomura for a split second before both of you are bolting towards the machine like your lives depend on it.

you successfully reach the controls first, but it's not like it matters— it's a two player game and tomura was only centimeters behind you. you're rushing to pick the best character while tomura is debating on scooting closer to your side.

honestly, you don't remember who won the majority of those rounds. every time you think back to that night, you only remember the warmth in your cheeks, even though you could see your breath every time you whispered competitive insults as you both mashed buttons. you can only remember the gentle yet firm weight against your side, keeping only half of your body warm.

you only remember the rush of adrenaline that coursed through your body when the two of you suddenly heard the mall security guards combing through the levels, whistling and ultimately calling out to you two once he confirmed that there was indeed intruders. the surge of excitement that ran through your blood as the two of you ran down the hall you came, giggling to yourselves as you outmaneuvered the guard.

the sudden influx of frigid air once the two of you escaped out the window you slipped in through. snow seeps through your gloves and into your jeans, but you could barely feel it. the smile and genuine laughter radiating off of tomura was warm enough to keep you blind to the frost bite until you got back to base.

main m.list

© accidentcache do not repost, translate or alter my work without permission. all rights reserved.

[accidentcache]

happy friday this is a friendly reminder that it’s okay to be horny on main

[accidentcache]

Pussy smacking with dbhwks cause you were mean to them all day

oh my erjkg god wait. the degradation??? hello, mean dabihawks.

the one time dabi's all sweet and praises you. "you doing so well, pretty..." the rough pads of his fingers meet your clit again in a harsh tap and he smirks at the way your body jolts. there's tears running down your cheeks and you're having trouble fighting against the firm grip hawks has you held down in.

dabi's voice drips like honey and tastes like candy when it reaches your tongue. it's evil, evil, evil torture.

above you, hawks is mean. his hand is gripping your jaw every time you squirm and turn away, forcing you back to watch how you gush with every slap and rough touch they deliver.

"look at you," hawks rasps, his voice his rougher; more condescending than dabi's. demanding your attention, intense and commanding. "you're so naughty, you filthy little thing. if i didn't know any better, i'd say you were being an ass on purpose today."

dabi pulls his hand away and his eyes dip upwards to hawks'. hawks doesn't hesitate and his fingers come down on your exposed cunt with such a harsh slap it makes you cry out. both of them smirk at the way you arch and twitch.

"yeah, you definitely were being a bitch on purpose."

© accidentcache do not repost, translate or alter my work without permission. all rights reserved.

[accidentcache]

Deeeee can you write something fluffy with touya? i just broke my own heart by rewatching the eps abt his past, and that 1 season 7 episode where he fights the whole todoroki fam.

WHY DO I DO THESE THINGS TO MYSELF. he just needs a hug :(( and some kisses

ILY MAMA <33 i hope you and baby are doing well!!

i waited until i had something cute to say abt him and none of the feral animalistic shit i usually say <3 content warnings: obviously post reveal, emotional intimacy, touya has emotions oughghha, short and sweet

the bathroom is quiet. in front of you, your boyfriend sits on one of the dining room chairs you dragged in front of the sink, bringing his head just below yours and eye level with the mirror in front of him. he's watching you in the mirror busy yourself with the dye brush and scissors, leaning back into the seat like he's trying to relax-- but he can't.

your eyes have caught his four times now. every single time they dart away-- like you're scared to look at him or something. he can't stop how his fingers drum along the fabric of his jeans, taut around his thigh.

his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. "you gonna keep avoiding it or say something?"

your eyes finally meet his in the mirror and he can visibly see the tick in your jaw. he'd call you out on the attitude but this conversation does need to happen at some point. you lean a forearm onto the back of the chair and tug softly at the ends of his hair. "are we trimming this?"

he eyes himself in the mirror. aside from his usual scarring, the only thing different about his appearance is the stark white hair that's greyed at the ends from years of black dye. and yeah, he's got some minor cuts and scratches, more burns that you've already scolded him about.

he doesn't look that different.

his lip curls a tad. "trim it."

your eyebrow lifts for a second before you shrug and push the dye set to the side.

in all the years you've known him, dabi has never told you why he dyed his hair. it took him a while to even trust you with the secret, but never told you details on why.

you found out a week ago who dabi really was. and for some reason, you still opened the door for him when he arrived at your apartment door. and if you caught his brief expression of surprise when you opened the door, you never acknowledged it. he doesn't know whether he's thankful or worried about that.

once his hair is wet and the scissors are in your hands, dabi finds himself oddly and somewhat relaxed once you get to work. little by little, the grey-ish darkened strands disappear from the mop of hair on his head. he's starting to feel more weird about seeing the hairstyle he hadn't seen since he was sixteen.

"if it's worth anything," your voice is always far too gentle in these moments with him, he thinks. nothing too sweet, but savory and warm. "i think you look good with white hair, touya."

dabi stiffens in front of you. that name is still too raw, still too fresh to be used openly like that. even in the privacy of your own bathroom. even in the intimacy between the two of you. it's weird and raw coming from your mouth. he's not used to it.

your hands pause with the current cut and they drop to the back of the chair. you want to grasp his shoulders, but his body language tells you that you've crossed a blurred line. you chew on the inside of your cheek as your eyes trace his tense features in the reflection. "sorry," is all you can think to say.

when dabi exhales, the breath of air is shaky leaving his lips. his lips press together in a firm line and his hand reaches back to grasp yours, pulling it to rest on his shoulder. you can feel him relax-- albeit not very much, but he still eases up when your thumb caresses his shoulder.

his thumb runs along your knuckles and when his eye meet yours in the mirror, he actually smiles a little. it's one of those cute, genuine smiles that he rarely ever gives you; the one that makes your chest squeeze and flutter like the first time you stumbled into him in that random alleyway years ago.

he doesn't say anything else, but he doesn't need to. he never usually does, his actions speak for him. and with the way he slowly softens over the following few hours, you know he appreciates your comments.

© accidentcache do not repost, translate or alter my work without permission. all rights reserved.

[accidentcache]

Dabert !! Oh no, he can’t hear us - he’s wearing AirPods !!!

[accidentcache]

itachi uchiha.

[accidentcache]

[accidentcache]

we're going back in time to the dawn of quirks to get all for one off the menu

[accidentcache]

your discord pfp and your tumblr pfp are locked in a room together. what happens?

[accidentcache]

Unwanted Visitor

[accidentcache]

UHHHH so like Keigo getting wholeheartedly distracted from his daddy issues on Father's Day because he has a single passing thought about making you a parent and now the baby fever + breeding kink combo are beating his ass

Thoughts?

- magpie anon ✦

Keigo's hell begins over coffee.

Coffee and a mindless, paltry comment.

Keigo has always been chipper in the morning, if not a little understimulated by the rest of the world taking its sweet time catching up to his trademark speed. Like most mornings, your boyfriend is a blur of red and gold, flitting about the kitchen to prepare the perfect breakfast for you two to start off the day.

Pots and dishes click and clatter around you, and you swear you see a dollop of pancake batter go flying as a stray feather does its work mixing the bowl to free Keigo’s hands to cook.

You, on the other hand, are perfectly content sulking by the coffee machine.

You take a sip. Your coffee is dark roast— a little reminiscent of the bags under your eyes, as you force yourself to keep them open long enough for the caffeine to hit your system. If they close for more than a second, you fear they won't open again.

Perhaps letting sleep take you would be preferable. You want nothing more than to crawl back under the quilted covers, to drag your boyfriend back in bed with you for ‘just five more minutes’ and bury yourself in his warmth; but judging by the way he’s bouncing off the walls today, you don’t suppose convincing Keigo is an option.

Breakfast looks practically gourmet as Keigo drizzles strawberry syrup in creative shapes. He arranges fruit slices in the shape of a heart for your plate.

You’re doing your part, though. You dunk sugar in Keigo’s coffee and rub the sleep from your eyes.

“I’m bored,” Keigo suddenly asserts.

“Mm,” you hum, warming your hands against the mug.

“We never do anything this time of year,” Keigo says. 

“Do you want to,” you respond, with a raised brow.

Keigo hums. He gets it. You both do. Still, every year, something unknown itches and claws at the back of his throat.

“Tsukuyomi asked for the day off today,” Keigo continues, almost shyly. He stares into the crackling eggs that are about to char on the frying pan and pokes them with a spatula. “Wanted to spend it with his folks again.”

“Yeah? He deserves it, honestly,” you say. “Good kid. What, are you jealous or something? Want a day off too, huh?”

Keigo shrugs. You almost snort as you make your way to leave the kitchen and set the table. 

As you pass Keigo by, you push his mug into his chest and plant a peck on his cheek.

“If you’re that bored on father’s day,” you yawn. “You could always just knock me up.”

Keigo forgets to flip the eggs. 

He forgets a lot of things, actually. 

You could always just knock me up.

Several of his interns ask Keigo to write letters of recommendation for them at work; and his handler reminds him today is the last day of the week, so he needs to look over the particulars in the database for his agency to be sent to the higher ups. 

Thus, even as he dons the visage of the hero Hawks, Keigo is confined to the torture chamber that is solitary confinement in his office with his thoughts.

He could always just knock you up.

Several chewed pen caps litter the expanse of his mahogany desk, another falling with a thunk to join its brethren among the pen cap graveyard.

I could always just knock them up.

Keigo decides to take the train ride home, opting to give his wings time to recover from a recent fight against a particularly tricky villain. He watches the scenery blaze by in a fog, pensive as the raindrops plop against the window.

He should probably just knock you up.

[accidentcache]

SNAP SNAP. SPARK SPARK. ITS TIME TO LIGHT UP THE DIGGY DIGGY DARK

[accidentcache]

every time you post i jump up and down in glee and joyfulness

every time i get an ask i giggle and kick my feet

[accidentcache]

i will not be swayed into playing date everything. don’t do this to me

[accidentcache]

More Kink Prompts ✨

(an updated version of this list)

mirror sex

thigh riding

dry humping

oral

dirty talk

corruption kink

lingerie

collar

handcuffs

blindfold

overstimulation

dacryphilia

choking

edging

praise

degradation

spanking

biting

hair pulling

phone sex

sextape

voyeurism

temperature play

mutual masturbation

orgasm control

punishment

face sitting

begging

cockwarming

cum play

squirting

breeding

period sex

shower sex

handjob/finger fucking

striptease

use of toys

against the wall

body worship

nipple play

morning sex

marking

possessiveness

size kink

public/semi-public

car sex

threesome

[accidentcache]

Something something suffocating Tomura inbetween your thighs, and he just can't help but claw at your thighs (gloves on ofc), and Hes just whining sooooooooo much, cumming untouched

- 🐾 (Dabi thigh from anon from earlier)

so are we just all in agreement that tomu whines the most and makes the most noise because out of the three he's the likely culprit to nut in his boxers untouched

[accidentcache]

do i lose my mind over touya again or work on another wip? sighs heavily.