#i could speak for years and years about dabi

[edens-pen]

“am i not my brother’s keeper?”

summary | it takes time for dabi to understand you, mostly because he doesn’t know how to ask. he supposes he’ll start with the scar on your back and go from there.

pairing | dabi/touya todoroki x fem!reader

word count | 1,405

warning | very minor/implied angst, minor hurt/comfort, mentions of god/God, reader has an older brother.

a/n | i don’t want to make this too long, so it might end up being a series of drabbles. but honestly, dabi as an older sibling, especially in shoto’s case, affects me so much. he believes he is irredeemable.

but what is the true extent of a sibling's love?

[ 18+ | minors, blank, ageless blogs dni! ]

—

It happens on one of those nights after disgusting, earth-shattering sex. The kind that you need to take a shower after. The kind that makes you strip the sheets before you get in the shower. The kind that makes you wonder if God really does see everything.

That’s when Dabi learns a little more about you. 

So far things have been pretty casual, Dabi comes in and out as he pleases, sometimes disappearing for weeks at a time and then staying the night but leaving promptly in the morning, usually before you wake up. 

You still insist on him wearing a condom despite the fact that you’re on birth control and you’re not having sex with anyone else (after you two become exclusive, he’ll reveal he hadn’t slept with anyone since the first time you two kissed).

It’s casual.

When two are tucked back in the sheets, with a candle burning in the corner of the room, Dabi looks at you.

Or, rather, he’s looking at your back. You’re a shitty sleeper and despite how many times he sleeps over, you still tend to sleep diagonally in a king-sized bed, on your stomach, drooling across the pillow.

That’s when he’s able to take stock of your skin when he’s not peeling the clothes off or shoving your face into the mattress to arch your back a little more.

His fingers run over scarred skin and when he pulls back, he sees a long jagged scar running down your back, and then a set of identical smaller ones, light and scattered over your skin.

“What happened here?” he can’t help but ask, his curiosity making him shed the mysterious and disinterested persona he tries to carry in front of you.

Of course, you’re already half asleep, but you still murmur out, “Where?”

Dabi’s fingers dig into the long scar a little bit harder as his mind runs wild. He needs to know who gave you that scar and he can’t explain why he’s already thinking about the repercussions for the person who did. 

He doesn’t know much about your life before you met him. Sometimes you tell him about work or your friends, but never much about your past. He can’t argue about it because he hasn’t told you anything about his own past.

“Here,” he grunts, indicating the scars that litter your skin. They’re all similar shades which must mean you got them at or around the same time, but the sizes vary so greatly he doesn’t know what could’ve happened to you.

“Oh,” you groan, pulling your face out of the pillow to speak a little clearer.

“Got pushed off the roof,” you say casually.

Dabi jerks back and forcefully rolls you over, making you look into his eyes. Your expression is completely bewildered but Dabi’s is hostile.

He spends an extra second looking at your face before gritting out, ”What?”

It takes you a little too long to respond because you’re taking in his face. You usually never get anything more than cool disinterest, or sometimes mild interest, but he’s never been mad around you. So you’ve never got the chance to see the way his eyes narrow, or feel how his hands heat up unintentionally. Now you have the chance to see the hard set of his jaw and flare of his nostrils.

Dabi repeats himself, calling your attention back to the moment, “What happened?”

“My older brother pushed me off the roof,” you answer, still enthralled with Dabi and his face and the way his anger changes even the tone of his voice. But when your answer doesn’t placate him, you’re quickly realizing you need to diffuse the situation.

Bringing your hands up to cup his cheeks, you blow a prolonged stream of air into his face. It startles him enough to make him pull back and shake his head. It cuts the tension in the room and allows you to switch your position, forcing him onto his back while you lay on his chest.

“What’s wrong?” you whisper, eyebrows wrinkled in question.

The momentary lapse doesn’t completely pull Dabi from his emotions and you don’t know why he’s so incensed.

“Why the fuck would he push you off the roof?” Confusion ripples across your face and it only serves to make Dabi more angry. “Stop fuckin’ looking at me like I’m crazy. Your brother tried to kill you!”

Your hands come up and you lock eyes with Dabi, taking a slow breath in and slow breath out. Dabi’s forced to mimic your actions until you stop to speak to him.

“He wasn’t trying to kill me, Dabi. We were up on the roof, when we weren’t supposed to be, just playing around. He was like 10 and I was 8, and he pushed me by accident,” you explain as he listens. “I think he thought I would fly because of my quirk, instead I landed in my mom’s garden and now she blames us for her hydrangeas never growing in that spot.”

“What’d your parents do to him?” 

His question immediately shocks and you try to understand why he would ask that, but you answer anyway.

“Nothing. I told them that I slipped and fell off the roof, and after I got my stitches, they didn’t ask again.”

Dabi waits for the rest, “Then what?”

“That was it. It was an accident, Dabi. He wasn’t trying to hurt me, we were just being dumb. Aside from bringing it up on my birthdays and when I need a favor from him, we don’t really think of it,” you finish. 

When Dabi doesn’t respond, you repeat, “He wasn’t trying to hurt me, we were just kids. We didn’t know any better.”

Moments of silence pass between you both. Dabi’s looking in your eyes, trying to read your body language, searching for signs that you’re lying. You’re trying to figure out why he’s reacting like this. Most of what you say to Dabi comes up with little to no questioning, he’s never reacted so passionately in front of you.

“You don’t,” Dabi clears his throat, looking at you intensely. “You don’t hate him?”

Immediately, you shake your head. “He’s my big brother, I love him.”

“He pushed you off a roof,” Dabi reiterates like you forgot.

“And I broke his favorite action figure. I cut a chunk out of his hair. I accidentally stole the breath out of his body when I developed my quirk,” you volley back, laughing a little. “He’s my brother, I can’t imagine there’s much I wouldn’t forgive him for.”

At your words, Dabi relaxes a little bit. 

Another beat passes.

“What if he did something worse?” Dabi asks, his voice a whisper in the quiet of your room. The candle in the corner flickers a little bit. 

“You want me to get all philosophical on you?” Your words are a joke, but Dabi doesn’t laugh, and he doesn’t say no.

So, you’re serious when you say, “Simply put, yes, he could do something worse and I would forgive him. I would forgive him, as long as he doesn’t go where I cannot follow. He could kill god and it would be fine with me, as long as he doesn’t kill himself. He’s my brother.”

It’s your repetition of that phrase that does Dabi in. It keeps hammering itself inside him. You say it differently every time. 

An explanation, a curse, a vow.

“Is it like that for everyone?” Dabi implores, and you wish you could open up his head. You want to poke around and find out why he needs to know this information, because that’s how he’s asking you. He speaks like he’s investigating something and your answer could crack open a cold case.

You consider him for a moment. “I guess it depends on the relationship. I don’t know if you have older siblings, but it’s like…I was born knowing him, y’know? I watched him grow up and the entire time, I was powerless. I couldn’t stop my dad from screaming at him or my mom from scolding him, but I could love him and I could forgive him. I could protect him in my silence, in my being there.”

You hope that Dabi finds some peace in your answer. 

“I don’t know how to explain it other than—”

“He’s your brother,” Dabi finishes. “That makes him infallible.”

“No, but it makes all his sins venial.”

—

[leychin]

HAPPY ENDING

t.shigaraki x reader

cw: mentions of past traumas but vague, shigarakis whole backstory, child abuse

No one in the League has had a "normal" childhood. Everyone has a tragic villain origin story, everyone has the moment the snapped. Its an unspoken rule to just never inquire about anyones past.

Shigaraki doesn't follow any rules though, so when he asks you one night while you both take a rare trip to a grocery store to pick up essentials, he asks what made you switch teams. He asks what happened to you, someone he can't imagine hurting him, or anyone from that matter what made you snap.

Shigaraki doesn't let people in, he can't afford it, especially not in his current position. But he feels like he knows you, which is silly because it's only been a year, but in that time he's seen your never ending kindness. You used to feed the stray cats outside the bar before it was destroyed, you used to sew up Toga's clothes and offered to let her lick the blood off your fingers when you pricked yourself. You bring Dabi relaxing teas every Tuesday without fail.

And for weeks you treated Shigaraki like he was your world, you were the only one listening to those long anti hero tangents when he was drunk at the bar, you're the one shuffled up next to him pressed shoulder to shoulder to watch him clear a handheld game, enjoying his warmth when hes done nothing except allow you to stay next to him.

So Shigaraki doesn't expect you to answer, and something inside of him deflates but he isnt sure what. He knows he doesn't have the right to your trust, and your story, so when you don't answer he opts to drop it.

He doesn't expect you to look at him with such a jaded look and tears welling in your eyes at the thiught of whatever happened to you, and hes quickly pulling you deeper into the shadows so that no one could see one of his subordinates friends in such a weak state.

"Its stupid." you dryly laugh in attempts to lighten the mood "I don't have whatever you and Dabi have going on." you try to explain to him, but its not coming out right. He doesn't know what to do, you're sat down in front of him thr way a subject kneels before a God. Shigaraki is no God, at least not yours. He doesn't want to be.

So he crouches down in front of you, and he just stares. He's trying to say take your time, but it never comes out, so he keeps staring at you with crimson eyes. He wants to reach out, to hold you, but it doesn't come out either.

You do tell him though, that its so so stupid but it's just because you weren't wanted. Not in the way Dabi alludes to and the way Toga speaks about her past, but in the way that you were a backup plan and never first. Your entire life was for the convenience of others, your mother spoiled your brother and barely remembered your birthdays, your father insisting it was a 'Father and son' thing.

You told him it wouldn't have been as bad if it wasn't your friends too, never invited unless someone else had to back out, never remembered for a birthday, conveniently left out for secret santa, and having to do prom dress fittings alone because they already did theres together.

Its funny, you laugh to him and Shigaraki continues to stare at you. So you tell him about your prom night, because that was the night you left. You had gotten a date with a boy you harbored a small crush on for a while, and he asked you to go with him so of course you and your naive heart said yes.

You waited for him for a while, thinking he was late, and when he was fourty minutes late you decided to give up, thinking he forgot. Only to go home already in tears to open snapchat and see his story with him dancing with another girl, your only message was from him saying his ex got back with him so he didn't 'have' to go with you anymore.

You cry, not because of the heartbreak but because of the frustration. You have never gotten to be wanted by other people, you've never gotten that feeling of being accepted for just being you the way everyone else does. Thats why you left, because no one wanted you around enough to stay, and at least in the League you can pretend you had a purpose.

You're laughing now, because the butterfly effect is so hilarious you can't do anything but either laugh or cry. If you had just gotten that dance that night you wouldn't be labeled a domestic terrorist. You tell that to Shigaraki thinking it'll lighten the mood, but he stares at you still with that blank face.

"I wasn't wanted either." Is all he says before he stands up and offers you a hand to help you up, and when you carefully take it he yanks you up and pulls you close to his chest.

"I don't know how to dance." he says carefully

"What?"

"You said you wanted someone to dance with you."

That wasn't the moral of the story, you note in your head. But you decide to show him the steps anyway to a basic slowdance, and he eventually gets more comfortable with it and starts to lead you on his own, the only sound now is awkward feet shuffling in the quiet alleyway.

"Im sorry there's no music." You eventually say awkwardly

"Its ok." is all he says

You enjoy this, you realize. You're glad Shigaraki is the one dancing with you and not that boy from those years ago. You rest your head on Shigaraki's chest, you feel him stiffen, but he relaxes into it. This is good.

"My father didn't like me either." Shigaraki quietly says "He hated that me and my sister were born." he pauses, wondering if he should even be telling his story when you just told yours, but opts to anyway. "He hurt us, and I always wondered why he had us if he just hated us."

You look up at him, and he stares back down at you. You wait for him to continue and he does "So when my quirk manifested, I killed him." He chuckles dryly, even if he doesnt remember everything else entirely, he remembers that moment when everything felt so clear, and the itching finally stopped.

He slowly lets go of you now, deciding the dance is done, and you do too. Not sure what to do to break the silence.

"Will you go back now?"

"What?"

"You said that if you had just gotten that dance, you wouldn't be a domestic terrorist. I just danced with you, so will you go?" He asks, and he doesnt realize his heart has made his way to his throat as he asks, he realizes he doesn't want you to go, he wants to do that again and again and again and again.

You realize what hes asking and you cant help but let your mouth curl into a smile, so you carefully intertwine your fingers with his, careful to not brush his pinky with yours.

He jumps at the contact, and stares at your hands together for an uncomfortably long time before looking back at you "What are you doing?" and you shrug before leading the both of you out of the alleyway and into the moonlight.

"Im gonna stay with the people who want me."

Shigaraki's heart lurches in his chest, and he feels so warm inside he thinks hes going to explode. But instead he opts to give a squeeze back "Good. I wouldn't have let you go back anyway."

[kechiwrites]

kerberos

touya, natsuo, and shoto todoroki x f!reader kinktober countdown day four, (foursomes)

synopsis: "...the air is sucked out of the room, and you’re frozen in place as they move above you, forming a beast overhead, one with a sneering maw, frigid hands and a piercing gaze."

wc: 4k

cw: a dabi-less au, but touya is still a lil fucked up, fem + afab!reader, drunk sex, threats of violence/harm, anal play, fingering, dubcon, foursomes, creampie, oral (m + f receiving), praise, pet names (honey, baby), hair pulling, light choking, degradation, finger-sucking, a little bit of powerplay / dom sub undertones, mdni.

author's note: a fic that didn't make it in time for kinktober last year, finally finished. this originally started as a natsuo fic, but the other boys wanted to play too. (everyone is 20+)

 It sounds like someone’s humming, jovially, quietly, when you stir to consciousness, the alcohol in your system thrumming through your veins, loosening your limbs, making it near impossible to guess the hour. The curtains are drawn in the room, the lights low, leaving the room just bright enough to make out the figure above you. Then, the figure seems to split in three.

“I can't believe you got me to do this with you, and I can't believe you dragged Shouto into it too."

A derisive sounding scoff bounces off the walls, and the bed you're lying on sinks with the weight of someone sitting on it. The voice speaking is so familiar. You know you could place it if the world would just stop spinning so quickly.

“C’mon, you saw the way she flirted with us. She’ll love it. I promise.” Another voice stage whispers. A hand brushes your cheek and you follow it, nestling your face into the calloused palm, opening your mouth when a finger presses against your lips, letting the digit settle on your tongue.

“Cute.” The first voice sighs, and it’s too far away to be whoever is touching you, the person who pushes their thumb (you’re sure of it now) deeper into your mouth.

“Good morning sunshine.” Touya Todoroki smiles down at you, all big hands and white teeth and cerulean eyes that meet yours when you finally rouse from half-consciousness. Your face warms in embarrassment, and you draw back, Touya’s thumb withdrawing from your mouth and leaving it woefully, humiliatingly empty.

Your voice is high and tight in your throat when you finally speak, after your eyes have adjusted to the low light of the room. "Ah. Good morning?" You respond, apprehensive and more than a little startled. When you realize exactly who else is in the room with you, the last few hours of the night flood your mind in an instant.

Arriving at the Todoroki Estate for Shouto’s birthday party, drinking a ridiculous amount of tequila with Mina and Momo, grinding against Bakugo until he had to excuse himself to the bathroom, sidling up to Natsuo and Touya in their little “older brother corner”, pressing your hand to each of their abdomens and giggling before prattling on and on about the “family resemblance” and mumbling something about wanting to see if all Todoroki men had “super huge feet”.

You distinctly remember Touya’s knife-sharp smirk when he grabbed you by the chin and murmured to you, “Ask what you really want to ask, honey.”

You also remember whimpering before blacking out right in front of them, crumpling to the floor.

Jesus, that’s embarrassing. Pretty quickly you reason that they must’ve carried you upstairs, and you couldn’t have been out that long, because you can still hear the party raging on downstairs. Your friends are most likely getting drunk in your absence, assured of your safety stashed away.

“I didn’t mean to pass out like that. I just…” You drift off, peeking at the eldest Todoroki through your eyelashes.

“It's fiiiiine." Touya stretches out the word like a seedy car salesman, giving your eyes time to skip from him to Natsuo by his side, to Shouto, who's leaning against the far bedroom wall. "You know Natsuo wanted to keep you all for himself, wanted to lock you up and knock you up.” Touya laughs at his own joke, elbowing Natsuo in the side and receiving a scowl for his troubles.

"But I convinced him it’s only right to share, after all, he wasn't the one who saw you first."

You hear Natsuo mumble something that sounds suspiciously like "neither did you" before he crowds into your vision too. His face up close is a marvel. Steel gray eyes, clear skin and perfect white teeth.

"Is your head alright?" His fingers lightly graze the back of your head and it takes everything within you to not shiver at his proximity.

"Haven't had any complaints." You hiccup your response without missing a beat.

You are definitely still intoxicated.

Natsuo looks concerned while Touya laughs at your expense. Shouto stays blissfully quiet. And though it’s one of your favourite traits of his, it seems it’s short lived. He pushes off the wall and stands at the foot of bed, bringing all three men into your field of vision for the first time.

“Maybe we should wait. At least until we’re sure she doesn’t have a concussion.” the youngest Todoroki looks you over in concern, his face still typically placid.

You sit at attention, head swimming at the sudden shift in your position.

“Wait for what?”

“For us to give you what you asked for.” Touya intones, brows almost reaching his hairline.

Your palms sweat and your heart thumps in your chest, so loud you worry it can be heard over the pounding bass downstairs.

“I don’t wanna wait.” You mumble it so low you can almost convince yourself you didn’t say it. Like the words appeared out of nowhere, spoken by a stupid, reckless, horny spectre.

Four words.

But apparently, that’s all it takes. The air is sucked out of the room, and you’re frozen in place as they move above you, forming a beast overhead, one with a sneering maw, frigid hands and a piercing gaze.

Natsuo is the first to kiss you, and his skin is so cool, you're surprised you can't see your own breath when you pant a sigh against his lips. His kiss is slow and building, constant, consistent pressure that only stops when he pulls back to stare at your dazed expression. Touya is next, shouldering Natsuo out of the way, his hard on is urgent and searing against your stomach when he plasters himself to your front. Touya crushes his mouth against yours, impatient and searching. If Natsuo is a glacier then Touya is a goddamn wildfire, hot and fast and vicious, all teeth and branding tongue.

Your dress was pretty much non-existent to begin with, strappy black fabric and gold buckles. Natsuo and Touya's hands make quick work of the cloth, stripping you down to your underwear, clothing tossed haphazardly to the ground, discarded, unneeded.

"Are you just going to stand there, Shouto? Because if you wanna watch, that's fine. I just figure our girl here needs as much attention as she can get.” Touya calls over his shoulder, pulling your underwear down your legs. He drops the panties at his brother’s feet while Natsuo circles around you, situating himself behind you so you're reclined between his spread legs, your back resting against his chest instead of the headboard. His fingertips graze a trail in-between your shoulder blades, unhooking your bra, clasp by clasp, pressing a barely there kiss into the middle of your back. You smile at the tenderness of the action even as your brain struggles to catch up with what’s happening.

The moment doesn’t escape Touya’s attention.

There’s an indent between his eyebrows, betraying his irritation.

“Y’know,” He simpers, settling on the bed in front of you, leering, “I feel like my handprint would look so good,” The eldest brother places his open palm over one of your hips, “right here, permanently. It’d only hurt for a minute” You choke on your answer, but it’s not really a question to begin with. His palm heats on your skin and you scramble back further into Natsuo’s chest, letting him wrap his arms around you,

“Touya, don’t be an asshole.” Natsuo bites, his tone acidic, “You’re scaring her.”

“Then why don't you take charge for a bit, little brother?” Over your head, Touya meets his brother’s eyes, his challenge clear.

You can feel Natsuo bristle behind you, his hackles rising at Touya's goading.

"Fine. Touya, why don't you shut the fuck up and tongue her tits for a while?”

The corner of Touya’s lips curl up, before he descends on you as ordered, mouth nibbling, sucking and kissing at the skin of your chest. The piercings decorating the shell of his ears glint back the light from the lone illuminated lamp in the room, blinding you momentarily before Natsuo angles your head upwards, covering your mouth with his own.

He traces the seam of your lips with his tongue, groaning when you open up for him, the cool surface of his palm tightening around your throat. Your nipples pebble under Touya’s attention, he uses his teeth more than anything else, biting and scraping and only soothing the pain when you cry out when it gets to be too much.

“Fuck,” and Natsuo’s voice is already so wrung out despite you barely having done anything, “you like when he hurts you?” He whispers, rubbing his thumb over your cheek repeatedly, a perfect contrast to Touya’s canines on your skin. You nod frantically, letting the second oldest sink his teeth into your bottom lip, then soothe the pain with the tip of his tongue.

Shouto crouches at the foot of the bed, watching his brothers touch you with hooded eyes. “I would’ve done this months ago. If you’d just asked me. But you’re greedy aren't you? I wouldn’t have been enough. You wanted them to fuck you too. Didn’t you?” His eyes never stray from your cunt, his voice is pitched low and so, so quiet, it’s almost as if he’s speaking to himself. You stare at Shouto, jaw dropped in shock at the filth pouring from his mouth, and when he finally drags his eyes from your pussy, it takes only a second for him to shove Touya out of the way and kneel between your thighs.

“I-I.” You stumble over your words, the lingering haze of alcohol weighing your tongue down in your mouth, making you clumsy, needy. You give up on speaking coherently, deciding to just shift lower, spread your thighs further, so Shouto can situate himself in between. He places a hand over your thigh, digging his thumb into the underside, crowding so close you can feel the puff of his breaths against your pussy.

“I won’t touch you until you tell me the truth.” He mutters, and you aren’t sure if he’s telling you or reminding himself. Even with Natsuo behind you, away from view, you know they’re all staring at you, you know they’re all waiting.

And it’s mortifying.

You bob your head in the affirmative, hoping it’ll be enough.

“Say it.” Touya urges, his hand on Shouto’s shoulder, finger digging into the fabric of his brother’s shirt.

The words stick in your throat at first, like your tongue is sitting in your mouth wrong, blocking the admission. “I-I wanted all of you.” Touya whistles saucily, Natsuo smiles into the crown of your head, and Shouto sighs, then he gives in.

“What a slut.” There’s so much blood rushing in your ears you almost miss Touya saying it. Instead, you opt to focus on Natsuo sinking his fingers into your mouth, covering your tongue with the rough, cold surface of his digits.

“Our slut.” Shouto corrects immediately and his tone is so insanely earnest you hiccup a laugh, even with your lips stretched around two of Natsuo’s fingers.

Shouto makes good on his promise immediately, his hand sliding between your legs, palm covering your pussy gently before his calloused fingertips move in a silky slide down your wet folds. Your body breaks out in goosebumps, all while Shouto eases two fingers in and out of you, deceptively quiet, letting the room fill with the sounds of you creaming against his hand. Your breath flees as his fingers thrust just inside your slick heat, teasing you with soft friction. You try so hard to stop yourself from holding your breath, periodically remembering how to inhale.

Your thigh is almost uncomfortably warm where Touya’s head lies, cheek pressed to bare skin. He groans happily as he watches his youngest brother’s fingers disappear into the dripping, tight clutch of your cunt.

“Right.” He murmurs, sinking his teeth into the plush flesh below him. “Ours.”

Shouto drops his head to lave at your clit in sweet, probing circles, making your toes curl and your hips twitch. It’s all you can do to not rip his hair from his head when your hands fist in his red and white locks. Natsuo tugs at the tips of your chest, rolling your already hypersensitive nipples between his fingers. It’s mind altering, how badly you want to come from this, your skin is covered in a fine layer of sweat and you jerk and buck against Touya keeping you held down. It feels as though Shouto is doing everything in his power to keep you lingering right on the edge, balancing the rapidly tying knot in your stomach with your desire to have this go on forever.

“As fun as this is to watch, I’m getting a little impatient here.” You watch as Touya palms himself through his jeans, undoing the fly when he realizes he has your attention again.

“We agreed I’d go first.” Natsuo grunts from behind you and Touya's eyes turn flinty in response but his stare never leaves yours, even as he talks down to his brother.

“Well I’m the oldest, dipshit.”

Natsuo continues groping at your chest until you break eye contact with the eldest Todoroki. Your head hangs down, getting an eyeful of Shouto pulling away, licking the taste of you from his lips. You open your mouth, to thank him? To cuss him out for stopping? You just don’t know and ultimately it doesn't even matter because before you can say anything, Natsuo sinks his teeth into the nape of your neck, biting down so hard he almost breaks skin.

“Fine.” He concedes, and Shouto wordlessly pulls away from you, eyes downcast and disappointed, like he can’t bear to part his mouth from your cunt. You bear down around nothing while Touya replaces Shouto, tapping the already hard tip of his dick against the puffy lips of your pussy. You buck your hips, silently begging him to get on with it, hoping to provoke Touya into action.

“Should I hold her open, little brother? I wouldn’t want either of you to miss me breaking her in.” He slides his thumbs up the lips of your entrance, keeping you exposed while Natsuo grinds the hard column of his cock against the small of your back. The shine in the eldest’s eyes is borderline scary, his gaze strips all artifice, any blustering confidence. Under Touya’s stare it’s not just your body that’s naked, it’s your fucking soul.

God, you’re really drunk.

Touya fists the root of his dick, slipping the angry red tip over your clit, once, twice, teasing you until you tilt your hips, wordlessly pleading with him again to push inside you. Finally, Touya concedes, shoving himself deep all at once, letting the girth of his cock spread you open. You cunt drips its contentment all over his pelvis, the sound of your hips colliding with his almost drowning out your fevered, breathless pleas.

He presses both hands to your shoulders, pushing you impossibly closer to Natsuo, making it absurdly difficult for you to squirm away.

The way Touya fucks you takes you by surprise. He’s slow, maliciously so. The heavy weight of his dick carves into you inch by inch, like he wants you to go insane. It isn't until he’s halfway in that you realize Touya has a piercing, several actually, concealed by the angle he’d had from above. What feels like six stainless steel orbs bracket the underside of his cock, three on each side. They’re not massive, thank god, so the sensation is barely perceptible at first, but once he’s finally all the way in, his hips flush with yours, the metal nudges and presses against the spongy spot inside you that makes you see stars. You dig your fingernails into his shoulder and when he smirks at you, you struggle to not bite the motherfucker. It’s clear he takes pride in the overwhelmed and impatient expression on your face, keeping his predatory glare on you while he grinds in deeper, not stopping until your eyes turn skyward.

He barely thrusts in and out, opting instead to pick and prod at your already pathetic mental fortitude by crushing his front to yours, bullying your insides with the head of his cock while you shriek and hum and sob with the overwhelming pleasure he brings you. He presses a flat palm to your abdomen, pushing down hard and greedily rubbing his pelvis against yours; “Fuck, you really are something. Natsu, pull on her tits again, bet she gets so goddamn tight.” Natsuo follows the instruction, tugging mercilessly, coercing you into arching your back. Touya takes advantage and slides his free hand under your ass before you can bring your hips back down again. Two fingers rub boldly at the entrance below your pussy, and you flinch violently when Touya pushes against you. You shake your head, hissing from the beginning aches of a forced intrusion and Natsuo and Shouto bite in unison; “Knock it off!”

Touya, to his credit, merely rolls his eyes and moves his hand lower, rubbing at your perineum in slow purposeful circles that occasionally allow the pad of his fingers to catch the rim of your asshole. You squirm beneath him until he starts fucking into you again, piercings, now warmed by your body heat, brushing what feels like every nerve ending you’ve ever had. Touya watches you bounce on his cock, all while you lay in his brother’s arms, thrashing when the feeling gets to be too much. Your cunt pulses around him, milking an orgasm out of him before he can warn you.

Not that you think he would to begin with.

“Fuck. Fuck. That’s it, squeeze down on me, baby.” He jolts forward, and the sound of his pelvis hitting yours is punctuated by the long drawn out groan of Touya being spent. You kick your leg out in frustration when he pulls out, whining low and watery in your throat at not getting to come again. All Touya does in response is lay a quick open-palm slap at your thigh, wink at you and smile, pleased, you assume, to have gotten a nut off before anyone else.

Mission accomplished you guess.

Shouto shoves his brother aside, and you could cry to God with how happy you are to see him between your thighs again. When the youngest brother seals his mouth around one of your nipples, sucking in long, desperate pulls, it feels almost vindictive. Like he’s punishing you for enjoying yourself, for enjoying how his brothers touch you, fuck you. Occasionally, his tongue flicks against it, pressing the peak against the ridge of his teeth, all while he grazes his rough fingertips against your inner thighs. His cheeks are flushed and he’s panting, honest to god out of breath at the sight of you, pussy puffy and used, hazy eyes heavily lidded, mouth slick and parted around gentle, quiet sighs in the shape of his name. He thumbs at the lips of your cunt, pulling you open, spreading you so he can see everything, watching you clench around nothing, watching you leak Touya’s come onto the bed sheets. “So needy.” he mumbles, and you both hang there, just for a second, while Shouto stares, consumes.

And then...he’s on you.

He isn't as big as Touya, but dear god does he make up for it in enthusiasm. So unlike the teasing, drawn out grinding and half strokes of his older brother, Shouto ruts against you like your pussy is the only thing keeping him alive.

The black t-shirt Shouto wears makes his shoulders seem even broader than before, his frame looms above you, arms heaving up and pushing back the weight of your thighs, until Natsuo helps by holding them up too, until you're very nearly bent in half for them. your toes are curled and bounce with every thrust he completes against you. The slow, thick drip of his brother’s cum leaks from your cunt, where the greedy pace of his thrusts disturbs it, sliding down the plush curve of your ass before dripping down into an obscene puddle below you.

The easy glide is perfect, nudging over and over at the rough spot deep within you. The tip of his cock knocks repeatedly against your insides and the sensation disables any and all coherent thought.

You choke on your spit as he fucks into you, gripping the bedsheets so hard you swear you can hear them tear in protest. Your core protests at the strain but you manage it, keeping your legs steady while they bracket the youngest Todoroki’s ears. Shouto tugs you further down the mattress, forcing you to slide down Natsuo’s front, and when your cheek makes contact with the middle brother’s hard-on, you place wet, open mouth kisses on his fly. Natsuo takes a fistful of your hair and tugs, separating you from his cock, brutally. You keen in pain, but Shouto’s dick distracts you from the worst of it, tunnelling inside you and striking that spongy spot that makes your vision go blinding white. Natsuo fishes his cock out frantically, as though he’s been waiting for your go-ahead, which is...sweet. Rather, it would be if he hadn’t agreed to debase you with his brothers while you were still heavily intoxicated. The younger, white haired brother releases you only when he’s completely free of the confines of his jeans, and smacks the length of his cock against your mouth, rubbing the shaft over your tongue when you present it to him for use. Natsuo is thick, thicker than both his brothers. His dick is mouthwatering, straining and red and threaded with angry looking veins you are desperate to taste. He won’t let you take it all though, will only let you kiss and mouth at it while he jerks himself off. Guides you to suck on his balls and stare into his eyes while Shouto fucks you harder, bringing his thumb to the hood of your clit and rubbing with intention. He must’ve been at his limit, because of the three of you, Natsuo comes first with a pleasured grunt, jerking his hips and covering his hand and the side of your face with his come. And though you know logically that it’s impossible, you had kind of expected his nut to be...cold.

Hands trembling, the middle brother returns his attention to your chest, smearing his spend over your nipples, pinching at them in time with the swipes of Shouto’s thumb.

You finally get to come, waves of it hitting you and dragging you undertow, smacking into your body so hard you give yourself a burgeoning headache from clenching your jaw. Your body spasms, over and over and Shouto fucks you through it all, eventually adding his own seed to the mess between your thighs.

At least you think he did. It’s hard to distinguish what happens around the time you pass out from the fucked up cocktail of exhaustion, intoxication and the sedating power of the best dick you’ve ever had.

When you surface some time later, Touya is gone. “Fucked off somewhere,” Natsuo provides when you ask and...well you aren’t sure if it’s a relief or a disappointment.

Best not to think about it.

Shouto is there though, gliding a warm, damp towel over your heated skin, while Natsuo, who it seems, hasn’t moved from behind you, presses soft kisses to the crown of your head, your cheeks, your throat. He plays with the gold hoop earrings you're still wearing, rubbing your earlobes, and tugging on the jewellery every so often.

“How was it?” Natsuo asks, his voice quiet and soothing, and despite having just woken up, you could see yourself succumbing to its gentle tone and slipping into sleep once again.

“Good,” you respond, murmuring quietly. Shouto finishes cleaning you off, tossing the towel into a nearby hamper. “Really good.”

Natsuo chuckles, and his breath huffs over your ear.

“Good.” He tightens his arms around your middle.

“Good.” Shouto nods, sitting at the foot of the bed.

“Good.” You repeat. 

and so, i make my glorious return to bnha. support city girls who would do anything, including kill, for one night with soft yet firm dom natsuo. reblog what you like.

find the rest of the masterlist here.

[gamergirl-niffler]

Emergency request: having recently relocated to a new residence (while not entirely new, the adjustment feels significant considering my years living abroad), I'm grappling with a sense of sentimentality. Could I request a scenario where Dabi and Bakugo provide comfort to their girlfriend following her move? 🥺 Thank you luv ❤️

OH, SWEETHEART! I am so sorry to hear it! Missing just your home or country can be hard. I hope that soon you will feel better!

I hope the boys will make you feel better!

Dabi & Katsuki with girlfriends who miss their motherlands

Dabi

🔥 Touya understands you. Missing your home can be tough.

🔥 There isn't much Touya can do, even if he would want to.

🔥 When you suddenly get all sad because you miss your home, he is there to hold you and listen.

🔥 He just lets you lay on his chest and rant about everything you miss - places, snacks, food or anything.

🔥 This big, bad villain actually opens up to you a little. Touya shares with you how he misses his home, how nostalgic yet sick he feels when he sees happy families around the city.

🔥 Touya arranges some money for himself and spends it on the snacks that he thinks should be the closest to what you are missing.

🔥 In the end, the two of you get it all under control, finding home in each other. It's not always easy, and each of you feels nostalgic from time to time, but you have one another in the end.

Bakugo

💥 He worked his ass off to help you move from your country to Japan, so he has some hard time understanding why you suddenly look like a sad puppy.

💥 Instead of dancing around the topic, he simply asks you about it.

💥 Once you tell him what's wrong, he is a little surprised, but he understands it.

💥 He doesn't want you to just keep being sad.

💥 So next time you get ready to enjoy dinner or any other meal, he is there cooking a meal from your country. No matter how complicated, weird or new it might be to him. He is making it for you.

💥 If you are sad because you miss some snacks from your home, Katsuki orders them online. Just like that, one day you receive a huge parcel, filled to the brim with sweets, drinks and everything else you missed.

💥 When you tell him about some specific places you miss, Katsuki thinks about similar places in Japan where he can take you to fill up this little hole.

💥 You speak the language he doesn't know? Bakugo is willing to pick it up a little. Speaking your native language should make you feel much better. Just don't laugh at him if he makes a mistake.

💥 He is a busy hero, but even once in a while he takes time off to rest. Bakugo makes sure to have vacation just when you do. Why? Because the two of you have a plane ticket booked, duh!

💥 Katsuki is taking you to your country, where you can show him everything you missed.

💥 Just so you know, this becomes your yearly tradition.

[corpsekiller]

𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 — 𝐝𝐚𝐛𝐢

𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦. dabi x genderneutral!reader

𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲. fluff, mentions of blood and death, pre!dabi dance

𝖲𝖸𝖭𝖮𝖯𝖲𝖨𝖲. dabi finally opens up about his past and much to his surprise, you accept him as he is. even more you give him a choice of who he wants to be when he's with you.

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖧𝖮𝖱'𝖲 𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤. i'm finally getting back into writing after a quite long hiatus and i couldn't be happier that my motivation and my inspiration is returning. i'm still pretty busy with my studies since my exams are coming up in a month or so, but i'll try my best to write whenever i find the time. so enjoy this fic, my loves <33

𝖫𝖤𝖭𝖦𝖳𝖧. 1.363 words

MASTERLIST

"What do you want me to call you?"

The question hits him like a train at full speed, crashes into his ribs, and punches the air out of his lungs until his head spins with the lack of oxygen. His fingers have gone numb around the cigarette he’s holding and although he thought he grew accustomed to the cold after years of living out in the streets, lurking in the shadows of dark alleys most citizens of that shithole avoid at night, his entire body shivers under the thin layer of his torn clothes. And yet, even as the wind lashes around him and seeps through the seams of his sleeves to lick over his scars, he makes a point of pretending he isn’t freezing to the bone.

You, on the other hand, seem to sink further into your sweater, hands buried in the thick material and legs pulled tightly to your chest to keep yourself warm — a pathetic huddle of clothes hunched against an old tree, desperately trying to make yourself as small as possible to press yourself further into the crevices for some sort of shelter. As he watches you from his spot a few feet away, he feels a sharp sting of guilt for bringing you all the way here, away from the liveliness of the city and the hope it holds despite the war that has been raging through the streets.

But he owes you this, he thinks as he shrugs off his coat and closes the distance between you, carefully draping it over your shivering figure. The small smile you give him in return makes his heart ache with an unknown feeling of warmth; he isn’t quite sure how to call it, this sense of comfort that washes over him whenever your eyes meet, but he knows it’s something akin to love. Perhaps that’s why you deserve to know what really happened to him all those years ago, he supposes, a confession of the trust he has in you.

It would've been easy to get rid of you here; he could've burned you to a crisp without a single witness, slashed your throat before your mouth could've opened to release a treacherous scream, or simply broken your neck to watch the light inside your eyes die slowly. No one would've known where you went if there’d be anyone who cared enough about you and your miserable life.

On that count, you’re both very similar.

There was no other place he felt safe enough to talk about his past, though — about the boy he was for his father and killed mercilessly when he learned he’d never be good enough to meet his expectations. It felt fitting to return to his own grave, deep in the woods, where his fire consumed every living thing in a haze of cerulean blue and left a wasteland of solitude between trees shedding thick layers of ash and soot.

He remembers the pain of the flames melting the flesh off his bones, how they swallowed him whole and spat out something far worse than any monster he could ever imagine — a demon in the shape of unbridled rage and hatred, clawing his way out of scorched earth with a new thirst for war in his eyes.

“Y’know, doll,” he finally speaks, crouching down in front of you to pull the heavy leather tighter around your body before he leans forward and gently cups your face, caressing the curve of your jaw with his thumb. Instantly, you nuzzle into the palm of his hand, chasing the warmth of his touch and smiling softly when he breathes out a low chuckle and presses a chaste kiss to the crown of your head.

It’s strange to see how he’s capable of such tenderness when all he’s ever known was violence and anger — these very same hands that have murdered and tortured mercilessly before have grown soft in your presence. Even if he would want to, Dabi doubts he could ever hurt you. It sounds fuckin’ stupid, he notices now that he thinks about it, but you changed him. “I never thought I’d hear someone ask this question.”

And look, he didn’t expect you to stay. It wouldn’t have been a surprise to him if you’d jumped to your feet and made a run for it as soon as he revealed his past, his true identity to you, but instead, you stayed right where you’re sitting, wrapped in his coat that smells faintly like days without a proper shower, like cigarettes, like him.

Instead of leaving him, you stayed and listened patiently to every word that spilled past his lips like blood gushing out of an open wound — watched how the tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he recalled his father’s rage towards him, reached out for his hand to give him some sort of reassurance whenever his voice broke, encouraging him to continue despite the horror that seemed to grow in your eyes with every passing second.

And when he finally stopped talking, when the wound stopped bleeding for the first time in years, you gave him something he never had before: a choice of who he wants to be, regardless of the horrors he committed. and the blood that clings to his hands after so many lives he took just to quench his thirst for revenge.

And that—

That must be love, right?

The realization comes crashing down on him when you gently grab his wrist and pull him away from your cheek, instead lifting it to your lips to brush a kiss over his bruised knuckles as you repeat the question, softer, more careful this time. “So, what do you want me to call you?”

His eyes search yours in fervor. It’s a desperate attempt to find any doubts that you might not accept who he truly is, that this love you have for him was only a figment of his imagination. Maybe he’s just been so scared all this time to open up to you because he was waiting for you to realize he’s just not worth it, that he’s better suited for the edge of a knife driven between his ribs than any kindness, but your gaze holds nothing more than pure adoration for him.

“Touya,” he finally replies, his voice barely above a whisper now. “You can call me Touya, sweetheart.”

“Touya,” you repeat slowly, delicately forming every syllable of his name on the tip of your tongue. His breath hitches in his throat as he listens to you say it again and again, trying to grow accustomed to the unfamiliar ring of his real name — it sounds like a fuckin’ prayer falling from your lips and any resentment he ever felt for his old name seems to simmer down into reluctance.

With every whisper of his name, Dabi shuffles closer to you, until your face are only mere inches apart and he can feel your breath ghost over his parted lips. It’s addicting, to hear you say those two little syllables, and it buzzes through his veins like some sort of drug, like he's getting high on fucking heroin.

He doesn’t think he’s ever been so present in his stupidly frail body, doesn’t think he’s ever felt this fuckin’ alive before until this very moment and when the corners of your mouth curl into a smirk and your tongue darts out to repeat his name once again, he knows you’ve got him wrapped around your finger.

He surges forward and crashes his lips against yours in a bruising kiss that coaxes a whimper out of you and Dabi swears he’s never felt like this before as he flicks his tongue across your bottom lip and hotly licks into your mouth, devouring you with everything you can offer. Your hands sink into his hair. A moan in the shape of his name escapes your throat and his stomach jumps into his chest because this—

This must be love, right? It has to be.

Because he never felt this fucking addicted to the sound of his name before until it fell from your lips.

[sweetbbyshion]

Little Brother

-> Touya Todoroki (Dabi) x Reader (they/them pronouns used)

characters: Touya Todoroki (Dabi), Shoto Todoroki

genre: fluff

summary: touya introduces you to his family and the youngest todoroki grows attached to you

warnings: established relationship (between dabi and the reader), mentions of past trauma, this is set on a alternative setting where quirks aren't a thing and the todorokis are trying to be a better family

I do have more ideas for different parts so let me know if you're interested in this becoming a series of dabi fluff feat his family (in particular shoto)

When you first started dating Touya, meeting his family was the scariest thing you could think of. Touya was honest when he told you he and his family had a rough start but were trying to get on good terms again. He always seemed happy when he was talking about his siblings, telling you silly stories about their childhood or how the weekly phone call with them went.

After a few months of dating, Touya decided to ask you to visit his family for the weekend. You could have lied and said you had exams or even been honest and tell him you weren't sure but the way Touya’s eyes sparkled in hope made you unable to deny his request. His mom seemed sweet and from what Touya told you, she already loved you; his dad you weren't so sure but your boyfriend assured you that he wouldn't be mean or anything; you were almost sure you would get along with Fuyumi; Natsuo was too much like Touya so if you managed to get along with your boyfriend, you are sure you will be able to get along with Natsuo; Shoto, however, was the person who scared you the most. He was only twelve and you know how hard teenage boys can be to deal with. Touya guaranteed that Shoto would like you, that he doesn't even talk much but that made you more nervous. How were you supposed to bond with a twelve year old boy that doesn't speak? More than anything, you wanted Touya’s family’s approval and that meant every single one of them.

The days prior to the big meeting, you kept annoying Touya with multiple questions about Shoto, trying to get an idea of what you could say to start a conversation. Your boyfriend wasn't very useful on the matter, simply brushing you off with “you’ll be ok, stop worrying your pretty head.” You hated him (but not really). So you ignore the urge to choke Touya to death and mentally prepare yourself. If everything goes wrong, you will have to lock yourself in his room until it's time to leave.

Your university isn't that far away from Touya’s house so, as he drives, you start to think that maybe you should have stayed home. It might be too soon to meet his family, you haven't been dating for long. Touya’s hand squeezes your thigh as a sign of reassurance. You try to focus on the music for the rest of the ride. Your heart starts beating faster when Touya parks in front of a house. You leave the car without thinking, set on getting this over with as fast as possible. Your boyfriend goes to the trunk to get both of your small bags for the weekend and starts walking in front of you. He knocks on the door and your breath gets caught in your throat. A boy that looks too much like Touya without his piercings opens the door and instantly hugs your boyfriend. Touya ruffles his hair and steps to the side. “This is my partner.” he introduces, then says your name. Natsuo bows slightly and tells you to get in, expressing how happy he is to meet you. There's a faint smell of food coming from the kitchen and two women that look so much alike come out to say hi. You bow at them but Rei has a warm smile as she hugs you, communicating how much Touya has talked about you, making your tough looking boyfriend blush slightly as he tries to hide his face on his sister’s hair. Fuyumi hugs you next, asking you to drop the formalities as they already consider you family.

“You're trying to steal my partner already and we just arrived.” Touya says in a playful tone.

Rei pats his cheek before pulling him for a hug, squeezing him a bit and saying she missed him. You hear the sweetness in Touya’s voice as he murmurs “I missed you too.”

Fuyumi lets everyone know that dinner is almost ready and that their father will be home soon. From what she said, Shoto was in his room doing homework but she thinks it's an excuse to hide for a little longer since he seemed nervous to meet his big brother’s partner. Your heart warms a bit to the thought that you weren't the only one nervous about this meetup.

You follow Touya to his room to place your bag and take a moment to look around.

“Your room is so… empty.”

“Never really decorated it. Plus, most of my stuff I took with me to the dorm.” you hum in acknowledgment. “I told you they would like you.”

“I still haven't met your dad or your younger brother.”

“I don't give a fuck about what my dad thinks and Shoto will like you.” Touya hugs your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “It’s hard to believe but he's a lot like me. And you managed to make me fall in love with you so I think it will be fine.” you sigh, turning on his embrace to hug him back. “I love you, don't worry too much.”

You whisper that you love him back and hug him a bit tighter. Touya always managed to feel like home and you felt comfortable in his arms.

A soft knock on the door catches your attention and Touya lets you go to open it. A boy with two colored hair stares at the both of you. “Mom said dinner’s ready.”. Touya looks back at you and you bow slightly to the boy, introducing yourself. Shoto simply turns around and leaves the room. Touya is quick to follow him and hooking his arm around Shoto’s neck, ruffling his hair violently while arguing with him to have manners. While you were a bit sad about the way the youngest Todoroki reacted, you didn't blame him and you laughed at your twenty years old boyfriend acting like a baby as they both got scolded by Rei.

Todoroki Enji was already in the living room. He was definitely the scariest person in the room right now. Tall and broad with a dark aura. He was hard to ignore, towering over anyone and everyone. You got goosebumps with the way he glared at you and you were quick to bow respectfully as you introduced yourself yet again. Touya doesn't say much more than a simple “Hey dad.” before Fuyumi is urging everyone to sit down at the table. His dad definitely had an undertone that made the room feel more tense, quieter, the complete opposite of Rei’s calmer, sweeter spirit.

You were already expecting some questions but you didn't think Touya’s dad would be the one to ask you most of them, giving small hums every time you replied. You didn't know if he was judging you or not, the man kept a straight face all the time and his eyes were impossible to read. His voice was audibly softer when he talked to Touya and you wondered if that was his way of trying to be better to his son. Fuyumi is the one telling you a bit more about the family, talking about how she wants to be a teacher and Natsuo is about to start high school. Then she proudly spoke about how smart Shoto is in school, always getting good grades. Apparently, Shoto was the smartest among the siblings, Fuyumi said, which made Touya hold back his pout as he argued that he was doing pretty well in university. “I bet Shoto couldn't get better grades than me!” “He’s only twelve Touya!”.

The dynamic of the family seemed a lot better than how it was during Touya’s childhood but you notice that Shoto doesn't take his eyes away from the food as the conversation keeps going.

“What's your favorite subject?” you ask him, quietly so the attention doesn't go back to him.

“I don't know.” Shoto simply says before asking to leave the table, then getting up to put his dishes inside the washing machine.

Your brows furrow as you watch the boy leave the room. You decide not to bother the young boy for the rest of the night, focusing on helping Rei clean everything before settling down on the couch next to your boyfriend. Touya’s dad announced that he was going to his room and his mom followed soon after, telling her younger kids that they need to go to their beds soon, getting protests from Natsuo. The four of you decide on a movie and you cuddle your boyfriend’s warm body, drifting between being awake and asleep merely twenty minutes into the movie. Fuyumi is the next one to leave the living room, admitting that she's already tired. She ends up dragging Natsuo since he was almost asleep on the couch, leaving you and Dabi alone in the living room.

Dabi plays with your hair as he murmurs in a soft voice “Are you feeling better? Calmer?”. You nod, cuddling closer to him as you take a deep breath, feeling his scent bring you comfort. “I’m sorry Shoto was a bit rude.”

“It's alright. I understand.” you murmur sleepily. “I’m not mad at him or anything, it's not my place. I believe we’ll have more opportunities to talk.”

“Yeah, I’m not letting you go so you'll definitely have more opportunities to talk to him.” he chuckles, pulling you closer. Let's go to bed, baby.” You let yourself get dragged to the room by your boyfriend. Like he usually does, Dabi helps you take off your clothes and change before softly wiping off your makeup while your eyes fight to stay open. He will then change his own clothes quickly to snuggle you in bed. Dabi always makes himself appear scary and people usually say he's intimidating but you have to disagree because, as Dabi hugs your waist and hides his face on your chest, he always looks like a cuddle away from actually purring. Dabi argues that he will have nightmares if he's not being held by you so you spend most nights with him clinging onto you while you play with his hair until he falls asleep. It's only fair that he asks for that now that he's back in his childhood home.

When you wake up on the next day, Saturday, your boyfriend is shaking you awake because his brother already came calling him for breakfast. Breakfast is a lot quieter than last night's dinner. You help Rei clean everything, not missing Shoto asking Touya if he wanted to play a video game with him. Fuyumi is sitting on the floor, books scattered all over the coffee table and Natsuo is almost falling asleep on the couch. Shoto and Touya are sitting side by side, each holding a controller while they choose a character in Mario Kart. Rei announces that she's going to the supermarket, kissing all of her children’s forehead before leaving. Touya pats the place next to him when he sees you and you quickly sit down, striking a conversation with Fuyumi about what she is studying.

“You're shit at this game.” the youngest Todoroki murmurs. Touya gasps dramatically, a hand going on his chest as he looks at his brother. “Shoto! Language!” his brother simply rolls his eyes, snatching the controller away from him.

“Do you want to play with me?” It takes you a few seconds to realize Shoto is talking to you, his arm stretched in your direction. You can't control your smile as you reach for the controller, ignoring the smirk Touya sends your away. Shoto doesn't talk much unless he's replying to a jab his brother sends him. “You're a lot better than Tou.” Touya, like the drama queen he is, immediately jumps to try to tickle his brother, putting his head on a headlock. You're left to pull your boyfriend back, warning him about how Shoto is getting redder by the second because of the uncontrollable laughter. Shoto cleans the tears in his eyes while you're holding your boyfriend in your arms to stop him from jumping back to tickling his brother. With his back turned to you, you make a signal with your head, hoping Shoto understands the message. He's still laughing when he starts tickling Touya and you do your best to keep him in place as he starts screaming apologies.

You smile as you watch the two brothers catching their breaths side to side and you understand why Touya said his younger brother was a lot like him. As they sit next to each other, you can see the similarities in their expressions. Touya scares you by dropping his head on your shoulder, still breathing heavily. “Are you sure you're 20?” you ask, not able to stop your giggles. “Keep laughing and you're next.”

“I won't let you.” Shoto’s voice surprises you. “They're cooler than you so I can't let you attack them.”

After that day, Shoto visibly grew closer to you. It was barely noticeable but he didn't seem as uncomfortable with your presence. You would hear him ask Touya when were you going back during their weekly calls, begging your boyfriend to visit them the next weekend and bring you along. Touya would argue and whine that his little brother was trying to steal you from him but you would just shut him down by flicking his forehead. You certainly started seeing Shoto as a little brother too and couldn't be happier that he liked your company. Even if it made his older brother act like a baby every time you spent time together. You don't even remember a time when you were nervous to meet Touya's family.

[transhawks]

The key to liking canon Hawks is finding all the weird ass crazy shit he does funny. Like if you are a Hawks hater who used to like him and are wondering why people like him again the answer is that if you see him as a crazy man who keeps doing unhinged shit and the heroes don't even blink at it or know how to deal with it, everything becomes comedy. Stuffed Best Jeanist into a duffelbag and literally gave him up to the villains unsure if he'd really live or whether he'd be noumu'd? Yeah, sure. What if Jeanist was just like noumu'd immediately? Well, too bad. Brought Endeavor to Kyushu because he knew he needed a strong hero to fight a noumu and was literally putting the man in danger? Yeah, cool had to happen. Why not use people as bait. Gave Endeavor eugenicist fascist propaganda to communicate messages to the HPSC while acknowledging Enji's fucking dumb and this might backfire (also gave a bunch more people that shit, including impressionable teens). Yeah, it's all good. No way that can cause issues going forward. Left the hospital right after he got barbequed to go finish the job which is cleaning up Jin's body - he could barely talk! Yup. All good. Best Jeanist clearly gave him a ride to his mom's house after he took care of his 'unfinished business'. Speaking of Jin, just randomly deciding to tutor Jin for a month or two in villain ideology like he was helping a classmate pass an exam and no one batted an eyelash. Wow, the number two hero is just here tutoring the villain Twice in how to be a better leader and part of this army? Amazing. And for free?

Like ignoring Dabi - no one mentioned it. Not Toga. Not Compress. Not Spinner. The majority of the PLF saw them hang out repeatedly. Skeptic watched him tutor Twice. No one for a second asked how fucking weird it was that a twenty-three year old hero was teaching a thirty-one year old villain who was on Japan's Most Wanted years before the League even existed lessons. They just saw them playing senpai-and-kouhai and shrugged it off.

No one even mentioning how Keigo went straight for the kill with AFO. I know it's AFO and war, but like the lack of hesitation. "Oh wow, yeah Hawks is going to attempt to kill him straight off." No one cares - and heroes don't kill (unless they're Hawks apparently). On a milder line - straight up admitting to being prejudiced in the manga and saying he wanted a bird intern. In the light novel, asking Tokoyami weird questions about Shouto and breaking into giggles and hiding his face like that's normal behavior about a coworker and his teenage kid. All the weird other shit he does like meowing at Ragdoll.

He's weird!!! He's crazy!!! And its funny!!!! I don't get hoping for some fanon narrative and when you could be seeing this goldmine murderous nutcase that Horikoshi created in the guise of a cheeky funny sad little caged bird of a hero!!! The real Hawks is funnier!!!!

[doumadono]

hii it’s the twice & dabi anon again.

i’m sorry to ask for another emergency request but i’ve been having so much difficulty with my mom over the past year and a half, maybe two. it’s only been getting worse and now she doesn’t even talk to me. i only get updates from my little sisters and— oh my god it’s just horrible. i feel so bad that i had to leave them. but, i just couldn’t stay, you know?

could you maybe write something about twice & dabi comforting their partner/gf about the situation??

you don’t have to write for both!! either or is perfect!!

i just love the comfort you’re willing and able to provide. (even though you don’t have to. it’s truly heartwarming seeing you do this all. i really appreciate what you do.)

i really hope you’re doing well and taking good care of yourself. please be sure to eat properly and drink water!!

A/N: I'm really sorry to hear that you're going through such a difficult time. It's important to prioritize your well-being, and I hope things get better for you soon. Also, thank you so much for your kind words! Your appreciation means a lot. Even though I'm not doing well lately, I'll make sure to take care of myself. Wishing you all the best too! 🌟

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

Twice

Amid the chaos that permeated your mind, Jin Bubaigawara appeared with a boisterous greeting that momentarily broke the heavy silence that surrounded you. "Hey, babe! Twice is here to lift your spirits!" he declared with his characteristic energy, though his eyes held a genuine concern as he noticed the weight on your shoulders.

As you poured out the complexities of your strained relationship with your mom, Twice listened attentively, his empathy shining through. "Dang, that sounds tough. But you know what? You're strong for facing it head-on, I admire that," he remarked, his voice carrying a mix of reassurance and admiration.

He enveloped you in a tight hug, and his voice softened, "You did what you had to do for your own well-being. Don't beat yourself up about it." He pulled back, looking into your eyes. "You're not alone, okay? The League's got your back, and so do I."

Twice pondered, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps you'd like to engage in something? Not sure what exactly. Toga mentioned once that staying busy is beneficial - it keeps your mind from wandering into overthinking territory. And hey, if you ever need a clone to handle some mom-related drama, I got you covered. Double the trouble, double the fun!"

Dabi

The faint glow of Dabi's cigarette illuminated his face as he leaned against the wall, his stoic demeanor unwavering. "Come here, doll," he said, gesturing to the spot next to him.

As you recounted the painful saga of your relationship with your mom, Dabi listened in silence. When you finished, he took a slow drag of his cigarette before speaking. "Family can be a real mess, I know that. Sometimes, you gotta step back to save yourself."

He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Leaving doesn't make you weak, ya know? It takes strength to break away from toxicity, in fact." His voice was low, carrying a raw honesty that resonated with your own emotions.

His long fingers traced soothing patterns on your back as he continued, "You're not alone in this. The past doesn't define you, and you're building a future for yourself, not for them, yeah?"

Dabi's lips curled into a smirk. "We're both well aware of the hell it is to deal with toxic nonsense within our own families. Parents messing up their own kids? That's a special kind of mess."

He lightly tapped your nose. "Take it easy, and find ways to keep that beautiful head of yours focused on other things. Overthinking is just a slow way to kill your own self. Don't let it consume you."

He extinguished the cigarette and looked directly into your eyes. "Just so ya know, if you ever need someone to lean on, I'm here. We're in this together."

[lunagojo]

Various Anime Boys: Being Told "I love you" For the First Time (Part 4!)

Full disclaimer about this part, this is a partial revision of the first part, I decided to go more in depth with the first few guys I did :) I will continue to revise the rest of the boys I did in the first part <3 Please enjoy!

Featured: Satoru Gojo, Dabi / Touya Todoroki, Giyuu Tomioka

Warnings: Dabi being a bit rude

~ Part 1 ~ ~ Part 2 ~ ~ Part 3 ~ ~ Part 5 ~

Satoru Gojo

(love of my life <3)

“Y/NNNNNNNNN. Let’s go do sooommmeeethinnnnngggg. This is boooooring.” Satoru whined, reclining on your couch.

“You’re the one who decided to come over when you knew damn well I’m working on my thesis, Satoru.” You replied, brows furrowed in concentration as you typed away at your desk. The deadline for your paper was fast approaching and you were stressed, to say the least. That much Satoru could tell.

He stretched himself out, long limbs dangling off the sides of the plush sofa. “Why d’you need to do this stuff anyway? All it does is stress you out n’ keep you away from me.”

You had been friends with Satoru for years now, having met him back when you worked at a cake shop. You had commented on how his spending there would finance your whole university tuition, and it had gone from there.

He was handsome, of course. But also funny, endearing, and so unbearably annoying. But he did have a heart of gold, you had to admit, and a very blunt manner of speaking to say the least. He didn’t mince words when it came to people he didn’t like, and that was something that you admired. He spent so much money on you, too; you couldn’t understand why. Satoru insisted that he was merely giving you what you deserved, but some of the gifts had been of the more sentimental and intimate variety, like the custom made locket necklace he had made for you, when you had mentioned your grandmother had one just like it.

Suffice it to say, you had feelings for him, strong ones. But a small part of you had doubts, which would creep up just when you had mustered the strength to tell him. Satoru Gojo was a beautiful, strapping young man, perfect in nearly every way. How could he ever see you as anything more than a friend?

You snorted. “If I don’t get this in I’ll fail and I’ll have to repeat the whole year, and that’ll set me back. I need to make something of myself, Toru.”

He rolled off the couch and strolled over to your desk, placing his hands on your shoulders. “What if you took a break though? Just for tonight? C’mon, I miss you.”

You looked over your shoulder to see glimmering big blue eyes peering at you, a soft pout on Satoru’s lips. “You’re such a child,” You sighed, but relented for now. After all, he was here and he was doing nothing but distracting you. And a break did sound nice. “Fine. What do you wanna do?” You asked, resting back in your desk chair.

“Something fun.”

“Like…?”

“Iunno, let’s go out! Let’s see what’s playing at the theatre or if they got my favourite cake back in stock at the shop!” He pulled you out of your chair, grinning.

“Oh, of course.” You rolled your eyes, but you did enjoy seeing him smile. He was annoying as hell, but you had to admit…it was kinda cute. You stood, going to grab your keys. “Or, we could go stock up on snacks, find some dumb movies, come back here and stay up til 4 AM.” You suggested with a smile. Satoru’s smile widened and he grasped your hand eagerly.

“Yes! You’re a genius, Y/N! Let’s go!” He started to pull you toward the door.

“Hah, I love you, Satoru, you dork.”

He froze in place, looking back at you with huge eyes. “Wha?”

You blinked. “What?”

“You said you love me.”

“I did?” You looked confused.

“Yeah, you did.” He turned and smooshed your cheeks in his palms. “Do you mean it? You’re not just pulling my leg, are you? ‘Cause that would be beyond cruel, Y/N. I have a heart too, y’know!”

You chewed on your lip, heat rising in your face. You did love him. He was an idiot, but you didn’t want him to be anyone else’s idiot. Slowly you nodded, placing a hand over one of his.

His blue eyes softened and he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours. “Tell me again.” He murmured.

“I love you, Satoru Gojo.” You replied in a whisper, your eyes half-lidded but still locked on his.

Without second thought his lips met yours and he kissed you tenderly, his fingers tucking through your hair. You swore you could hear his heart thudding in his chest. When he pulled away, hesitantly, he smiled and grabbed your hand again.

“Dunno if we’re gonna be watching all too much of the movies,” He said with a wiggle of his brows. “But we can still try, I’m a good multitasker.” He looked back at you, his grin widening. “And, in case it wasn’t obvious, Y/N, I love you, too. I always have.”

Dabi / Touya Todoroki

(I love him sm, he deserved so much better... :( )

You were busy doing your university homework when you heard a tap on your window. Yep, it was 3 AM, about that time. Without hesitation you got up and went to the window, sliding it open.

Hazy blue eyes met yours as booted feet landed on the floor. “Thought you were gonna leave me out here to fuckin’ freeze.” Dabi said, grumbling as he maneuvered his way in.

“I came here as soon as I heard you,” You argued back. Never a thank you from Dabi, even though he had been crashing at your place for the past six months. You both had met almost a year ago, when the League of Villains had crossed your path on your way home from work one night. Their leader, some guy with a hand on his face, wanted to kill you in case you were gonna narc on them, but for some reason, a couple of the others in the group had stopped him. Dabi wouldn't stop staring at you that night.

Since then he'd show up at your place every night around 2 or 3 o'clock in the morning. He claimed it was because the cops and heroes would never suspect him to be hiding out in a random civilian's home, but you were somewhat suspicious of the validity of that. After all, he'd said it'd only be for a couple weeks and here you were six months later.

“Is your hot water back on again?” He asked casually, kicking off his boots. “I fuckin’ smell.”

“What kind of trouble did you get up to tonight?” You asked, wrinkling your nose. “You smell like a lawnmower.”

Dabi snorted. “None of your damn business, brat.” His words were harsh but his tone was almost tired. “Is it on again or not?”

You nodded, “Yeah, it's on. Washed the clothes you left the other night, too.”

Once again, not a thank you in sight as he went off to your bathroom, shutting the door behind him. You sighed. What were you doing? Why were you going to all this trouble for someone like him? You could just as easily lock your window and cut him off, but you didn't want to. A part of you felt that he needed someone to help him, be there for him. You could tell it was hard for him to show any sort of emotion other than gruff and bothered…and you could sense he had more pain and heartbreak than most people realized.

You went back to work on your homework, quietly writing away in your notebook. You tried to ignore the sound of the bathroom door opening and Dabi walking down the hallway.

Warm breath fanned across the back of your neck suddenly and you shivered in response.

“Why do you bother with this crap?” Dabi asked, leaning over your shoulder. He smelled like your body wash. You tried to hide the telltale blush growing on your face.

“Counter question. Why are you here, Dabi? It's been six months.”

“You know why, dumbass.”

You turned in your seat. “You're here every night now, you use my shower, sleep on my couch, eat my food, and I don't get any sort of appreciation or even a thank you. I'm harboring a fucking criminal in my apartment and you don't seem to be bothered.”

Dabi raised an eyebrow. “Yknow I could ask the same of you. Why do you keep letting me in, then? Washing my clothes, too, getting me those snacks I told you I like…why do you fuckin seem to care so much?!”

“Because I'm in love with you!” You blurted suddenly, hands balled into fists.

Dabi stood there, stunned. He rubbed the back of his neck. “You really are nuts, then.”

You breathed out a laugh, tears stinging your eyes. Turning back to your work, you tried to focus on your writing again. “Just leave me alone, Dabi.”

“Nah, don't think I will.” A hand slid along your shoulder. “Put that shit away and look at me, for God's sake.”

With a heavy sigh, you did as he said, only to be met with rough lips on yours. A sound of surprise escaped your throat but you melted into the kiss, fingers finding Dabi's damp black hair.

“There's a million places I could hide out,” he said against your mouth. “But I keep coming back here. Something pulls me back every time. I've never felt what love is, brat, but when I think of what it must feel like, I think of you.”

Giyuu Tomioka

(T_T i just wanna hug him and give him the love he deserves)

You had never seen Giyuu smile in the time you had known him. You two were close friends, but time spent with the Water Hashira was quiet and tranquil. You knew it was just the way he was, and didn’t mind it, but you had begun to wonder if he ever smiled at all. In the time that you had known each other, you had formed a deep bond and understanding of one another. It took you a long time to realize that you had feelings for him, but you could never tell him. It would ruin everything you both already had.

You two were returning from a mission one night, battered and exhausted from the fight you had just endured, and were intent on finding some place to sleep for the night. Ubuyashiki’s mansion and the Butterfly Manor were too far away, so it seemed like the only option for you both was to find an inn to rest in for the night, and then you could return properly the next morning.

You both finally found a place to stay for the night, but the owner of the inn charged you two an exorbitant amount of yen to stay. Giyuu huffed and, irritated, paid the man, before leading the way to your room silently. He had been dead silent the whole time you had traveled back, and this time, you were worried. Normally he would ask if you were okay or if you needed anything, but this time he was quiet.

“…Are you serious?” Giyuu asked, to nobody in particular, when he opened the sliding door. Only one futon.

You looked over his shoulder at the room and sighed. You had been looking forward to just going to bed after the hell you two had been through.

Giyuu sighed and ran a callused hand over his face, his blue eyes narrowed.

You glanced at him. “…Giyuu…You take the futon, I can just…figure something else out.”

“No.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, “What?”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the floor after what we just went through. We’ll just have to…sleep together, I suppose.” He looked away quickly, a small blush on his face.

“Sleep together?”

“Not…not like that,” He replied quickly, his face turning from pink to full-blown red. “Just…just sleeping. Beside each other.”

“If you’re okay with that, Giyuu, then I am.” You offered him a small smile, momentarily placing a hand on his arm as you entered the room. He was incredibly tense.

You both bathed first, one at a time, then returned to the room. Giyuu had gone first, and when you came back, he was perched on the futon, his haori and Demon Slayer Corps uniform folded neatly on the floor with his nichirin sword laid atop. He still had his underclothes on, but his torso was bare. You paused, studying his bare back and the various scars that adorned his pale skin. Your heart hurt when you suddenly realized how much Giyuu must have been through. Was that why he was so quiet, and distanced himself from everyone else?

“You’re letting all the cold in,” Giyuu said suddenly, startling you.

“Oh. Right. Sorry…” You quickly shut the sliding door behind you, setting your own clothing down on the floor before crawling under the thick comforter and settling on the futon. It felt heavenly to finally rest your weary, sore muscles.

Giyuu watched you for a moment before following your lead, settling in beside you. His blue eyes scanned your face.

“…What?” You asked, “Did I miss a spot of dirt on my face or something?”

“No,” Giyuu replied, a small tinge of pink rising in his face.

“Giyuu…”

“I’m…going to sleep. Goodnight, Y/N.” He said quietly, starting to roll onto his other side, so he would be facing away from you. You caught him by the arm, however, stopping him.

“…Have you been doing okay, lately? You’re way quieter than usual…I’m getting a bit worried about you.” You told him, your eyes meeting his again.

The Water Hashira sighed, “…I’ve been thinking.”

“About?”

“You.”

“Me?” You looked surprised. “Why?”

“…Because you terrify me.” He replied, and if you hadn’t seen the look on his face you would have thought he was joking.

“…Why?”

“It…doesn’t matter. Let’s just go to sleep, okay.” He sighed, closing his eyes.

Something came over you then. You didn’t know what it was, but you acted without really thinking it through first. Your hands cupped his face and you gently kissed him. It only lasted for a moment, but when you pulled away, Giyuu was looking at you with wide, stunned eyes.

His mouth moved, trying to form words, but nothing came out. “Wha…”He finally gasped out. “Why’d you…”

“…Because I love you, Giyuu. And I didn’t want to say anything because I was worried that it would ruin everything, and I’m sorry if it has, I just couldn’t—” You were cut off by another kiss, one instigated by him this time.

You gazed at him in surprise.

“You terrify me,” Giyuu said, holding your face in his hands. “Because I feel things for you that have been foreign to me for so long. I was…too afraid to say anything.” His lips pulled into a small but genuine smile. The first smile you had ever seen from him.

“I love you, too, Y/N.”

[dira333]

Passing Peonies - Post War Touya Todoroki - Part XIV

When the war ended, Midoriya Izuku had proven one thing: That Villains did not need to be killed to be defeated. That you could make friends from enemies.

Touya Todoroki, formerly known as Dabi, had been one of those taken into the rehabilitation program. After one year of intense physical and psychological therapy, he's got the chance to prove himself. To prove that he can be a part of this world.

Complete fic length: 30.600 words - Masterlist

Warnings: poor mental health and resentment against past actions is mentioned, burn scars etc. as well. There is angst but this is mostly soft Touya coming back to his family...

Part 14 - Finale: (3,3k words)

It’s the same judge as last time, looking down at him with strangely empathic eyes.

“You’ve done well for yourself.” He says. “How do you plan to keep up? How do you see yourself in the next few years?”

Not for the first time Touya’s glad that his case has so much attention on it that it’s handled behind closed doors. 

Behind him sit only his rehabilitation officer and his lawyer, two people he’s always had a professional relationship with. There are no other people here to listen to him speak and it helps him to be as honest as he can be.

Still his voice shakes as he starts to speak.

“I know I’ve done a lot of bad… bad things, in the past. It feels like a different life but to others, it isn’t. It’s still me, who did these things, who gets to live while others don’t and I get-”

He’s running out of breath and the judge, the name tag reads Morisaki, offers him a rare smile.

“Breathe, son. You have nothing to fear in here.”

There are tears pricking his eyes and he doesn’t want to cry, wants to stay strong until the end, but he’s wiping his nose with his hand now, fully aware that that won’t look good in any way.

“I don’t think I deserve it,” he starts anew, “But if I could, I’d want to keep doing what I’m doing. It’s not much, but taking care of plants, caring for something that’s not myself, feels like something that I have to do. Like I was meant to do it as if my quirk was assigned wrong at birth. I know that the business has grown and I’m not mad about that, that more and more people enjoy plants and are learning how to care for them. I like showing others how to care. I wasn’t ready when Mari came but I’d want to try again, to help someone make a change, to help someone find their place in the world.”

“What about your quirks?”

Touya looks down at the table in front of him and thinks of you.

“I’d love to explore my ice quirk. If I really have one, if I could use it without hurting myself. But the fire-” He almost chokes on the word and has to try again. “The fire quirk… I don’t… I know it would be useful, at least if I still was fireproof, in case of a fire. And I’d love to be able to help but I… I don’t want to use it. I have hurt too many people with it and if you have to take it away, I will accept that. Gladly.”

“Your therapist has mentioned the possibility of lasting trauma. You could regret that decision once you’ve overcome it.”

He looks up at the man, into those strange eyes and swallows thickly before he speaks.

“I would not regret it. I’m not allowed to regret it.”

Silence fills the room. No one speaks for a while and there’s only the digital clock hanging on the wall above the judge that reminds Touya that time hasn’t frozen.

“Son,” Judge Morisaki starts and the word pierces his heart, has him bleeding out even before he hears the rest.

“I think you’re doing just fine. I want you to keep doing what you’ve been doing, but I have some restrictions for you, which you must have anticipated. You may not leave Japan. At least for the next five  years. In case of a medical emergency or the like, you’d have to file for an exception, but I have to tell you that there’s not much leeway there. I want you to keep going to therapy and if your therapist thinks you’re ready for it, you will receive training in using your ice quirk. I don’t like taking away quirks and I don’t think you should give yours away freely. And I want to see you again in a year. Just because I like listening to your story.”

Touya looks up at him, at his wrinkly face and freckled hands, and wonders how he’s ever been able to question the good in this world.

It’s still here, hidden in the faces of people around him, lurking in their words and actions, their decisions.

- 

When he steps out of the room, he’s not surprised to have no one waiting for him.

He’d told everyone to stay back, that he did not need anyone there to support him.

It had been his decisions that led him here and it would be his decisions that would lead him away again.

He rounds the corner to the foyer only to recognize the bright red hair and the massive build.

“Dad?” His father looks up from his phone and pockets it, rising to his height.

“Why aren’t you a work?” Touya asks but Enji shrugs.

“I couldn’t stay away. I know you didn’t want anyone to be here, but-”

Touya steps forward and hugs him, face pressed into that broad chest that only recently has started feeling like home.

A part of him feels four years old again, proud that he’s like his dad, a fire quirk user.

A part of him feels six years old again, hurt from training, desperation burning in him. He needs to be better than Allmight. Better than everyone before him.

But there’s his dad, holding him like everything’s going to be okay.

A part of him feels thirteen, ready to kill Touya so Dabi will live, but there are his father’s arms around him, holding him, grounding him, reminding him that he is, after all, himself.

A part of him feels twenty-six years old, a little bit lost and a little bit found, knowing not much but at least that… His father will always be there to catch him.

-

“You’re not coming?” Touya asks when the car stops.

Enji shakes his head with a knowing smile.

“I don’t think you want customers right now.”

“I don’t even know if she wants to see me.”

“I think she will. Just be honest.”

“Yeah.” He sighs and gets out of the car. “Hug Mom from me.”

“I will.” 

He watches the car drive off and turns to look.

-

The flower shop is small, crammed into the space between a coffee shop and a drugstore, a brand new canopy to protect the display outside from the rain. Wooden chairs and tables are lined right outside the big windows, but devoid of plants.

He tries the door, surprised to find it open.

A bell chimes as Touya opens the door and he can’t help but smile at the interior. 

It feels like stepping into a tiny jungle, barely contained by the four walls of the building.

Cut flowers of all colors, sizes, and kinds are creatively dispersed between plants that grow up the walls or droop from the ceilings. There’s Bob Junior, the Pancake Plant. A fresh cutting of his Holiday Cactus is on sale. A Peony Bush that will be planted this week.

The smell is intoxicating and he takes a deep breath and feels himself coming home.

“Hello?” He calls out when he can’t spot the owner. “Anyone home?”

Somewhere in the back, he hears a squeak and the sound of quick steps.

“Touya!” Your smile is there but he can tell that you’re holding yourself back, cautious like a shy bird.

There’s so much he wants to say, so much feeling he wants to portray.

“Did I miss the opening?” He freezes when he hears himself speak, the words not what he had intended to say.

“No.” You shake your head. “I was just getting everything ready.”

“Why’s the door open then?” He asks, realizing he’s clinging to a safer topic.

The light in your eyes shifts. “I told you. The door’s always open for you.”

There’s a moment of silence, just you and him, one breathing out, the other breathing in.

-

“Can we close the door then?” He asks, stumbling over his words, “I don’t… I want to talk to you. Alone. Without a customer coming in.”

“Yeah sure.” You nod stiffly and he turns to lock the door.

“I’m sorry I didn’t help with moving.”

“Rico helped.”

“Yeah but it was supposed to be my job.” There it is again. Or maybe it never left. That tense silence that seems to slip inside his lungs and keep them from expanding, into his stomach that is clenched.

“What did they say?” You ask, voice soft like velvet or flower petals. 

His hand is still clutched around the doorknob.

“I can’t leave the country for the next years. Still have to go to therapy. If my therapist thinks I’m ready I can start retraining my quirk.”

“That’s good, right?”

He turns, looks for your eyes. Holds out his hand.

It hangs there, pale in the dim light, scarred and shaking. For a moment he fears you might not take it but then you’re there, your grasp firm.

Maybe you aimed to shake it, like a business deal, but he folds his hand around yours.

“I love you.” The words don’t stumble from his mouth, they don’t slip. There’s nothing accidental about the way they leave him, not like a confession but something that has always been there. An universal truth.

“I know.” You say.

“And I don’t know how I could possibly deserve you, but I… I want you. All of you. Tiny apartment upstairs and cheese sandwich for dinner. With dirt under our fingernails and leafs everywhere. If you still want me-”

You cut him off in the best possible way, one step forward, your lips pressed against his.

When you move back, it’s only the shortest distance.

Your breath washes over his face, your nose is almost touching his and there’s a fire in your eyes he could never be scared of.

“I don’t deserve you.” He doesn’t really know why he says it again. Maybe he wants you to tell him he does, even if he could never believe it. But that’s not you.

You, who always seems to know what to say. You, who cradles his face in her hands as if he’s a flower in bloom.

“This isn’t a gift exchange,” you tell him softly. “This is love.”

Your breath washes over his face and he’s getting lost in your eyes.

His thumb moves across your cheekbone and your lashes kiss his knuckles as you blink.

Time’s frozen, right here in the flower shop, right here with you so close.

“Kiss me,” your eyes whisper. So he does.

🌺.

Passing Peonies,

on my walk,

I catch my breath.

There is something

so endearing

about the way

they hold themselves

so tightly in a fist.

I don’t think they know 

their loveliness

or perhaps they do.

I wonder, do they fear 

their brief opening?

(Passing Peonies, Cindy Smith)

🌺.

Summer is turning into fall again, the days turning shorter and the nights colder.

Someone left the window cracked during the night and Touya shudders under the cold breeze, drawing further under the blankets, further into you.

You don’t seem too happy about his warmth though, because your knee digs into his back until he groans and slips out from under the covers to close the window.

Your snoring doesn’t stop and he snickers to himself, leans down to place a kiss on the back of your head, and moves toward the bathroom.

He started jogging soon after the flower shop reopened in its original home. It was recommended to him by his therapist and it does clear his head - he just wishes he could convince you to join him.

-

The air is cool around him as he runs, past the coffee shop and through the park. He can see the peony bush you planted back then, now almost ready for his winterly slumber.

About halfway through, his phone rings and he picks up, glad he remembered to take his headphones with him.

“You’re awake already?” He asks when Hawks groans into the phone instead of a greeting.

“More like still awake. I’m running errands for Rumi. Why do pregnant people always have these crazy food cravings?”

“Isn’t that just outward signs of what the baby wants?”

“I hope not. I can’t have a child that wants to eat one specific kind of gummy bears at fivein the morning. I bet she’s going to be asleep anyway when I come back.”

“So why do you buy them then?” He asks, rounding the corner.

Hawks sighs and there’s a forlorn sound to it Touya knows all too well.

“I don’t know. I just love her, I guess. It’s the way she looks when I hand her the food, it just… you know?”

“Yeah. I know.”

“How did the quirk training go yesterday? I meant to ask you right after but we got kind of busy, you know how it is.”

“I’m still afraid of using the wrong quirk even though it looks like I won’t be able to use fire anyway. But I managed to make an ice rose yesterday, so that was cool.”

“Awesome. Did you gift it to the lady?”

“Not yet. Wednesdays are for Toga. Besides, I just fell into bed and was out like a light.”

-

He’s just turned the hot water on when the shower curtain is pulled to the side and you stumble into him, naked and still mostly asleep.

“Mornin’” You mumble and let yourself fall into him, trusting that he’ll catch you.

“Morning.” He kisses your wet forehead. “Slept well?”

“Mhm.” He can feel you going slack in his arms and snickers.

“If you want to sleep longer, you should stay in bed. I can’t have you drowning in here.”

“Bed’s empty.” You mumble, fighting against sleep as he washes your hair. 

You cling to him like every morning, barely awake but too stubborn to stay in bed longer now that he’s up.

He lifts you out of the shower and wraps you in a towel, asks you about last night to keep you from falling asleep as he dries your hair.

“We need to buy more roses.” You tell him. And: “Toga mentioned she’s thinking about getting a cat.”

“What kind of coffee syrup do you want today.” He asks in between. And: “What do you want to eat for breakfast?”

By the time you’re ready to go downstairs, you resemble a human being, or at least the person he’s grown to know.

After six months of waking up to you at least once a week he’s still not gotten over learning, over knowing you. There is no sweeter thing than finding out something new about you.

-

Touya turns the key and enters the flower shop, taking a deep breath to inhale the aroma he’s grown so fond of. This is home, he thinks, where it smells like earth and flowers, like silk ribbons and dirty hands.

He turns on the lights and preps everything for the day ahead before stepping back into the backroom where you’re staring at the coffee dripping into your cup.

“Another coffee?.” He asks and leans forward to kiss you.

“It’s too early.” You groan, sinking back into his chest, and closing your eyes.

“I’ve been telling you to go to bed earlier.”

“Mhm.” You mumble. “I don’t remember.”

“Sure you do.” He kisses the crown of your head. “You can take a nap if you want. I can handle the shop until ten.”

“I might take you up on that offer.” You hum. “Tell me about the day.”

“We’re almost out of pre-made bouquets so I’ll be teaching that today and making a few on the side. That Deku kid usually comes in around eleven to have a chat and buy a dozen pink roses, so we gotta make sure there are still some left by that time. There’s that guy with purple hair that’s friends with him, Brainwash or something like that, who buys catnip every two weeks, he should be in today too.”

“You remember all of their orders?” You ask, pulling the full cup from the coffee machine and handing it to him for the extras. He snorts and pulls away to prepare your coffee while you wait.

“Only the ones who are predictable.” He defends himself. You giggle.

The bell chimes and he calls out. “We’re in the back.”

“You better not be making out.” He hears the voice of their newest employee and rolls his eyes in your direction.

“Be nice Touya,” you say when the door opens and Toga steps through, immediately scrunching her nose at the smell of coffee.

“I brought second breakfast.” She proudly presents a bag of puff pastry. “Can I have a hot chocolate?”

“Make it yourself.” She sticks her tongue out at him and you cluck your tongue.

“Touya’s going to show you how to do Bouquets today.” You tell her and she gleams with pleasure.

“Really?”

“Yeah. But stay off the pink roses. Deku’s coming in and you know how he’s about them.”

“Yeah, yeah. All pink roses are reserved for Ochako, I know. And the Daisies are reserved for Shouto.”

He furrows his brow, even more so when he sees you shush Toga, a finger pressed to your lips.

“What? What are you not telling me?”

“Nothing, baby.” You try to calm him unconvincingly.

“He’s in looooove!” Toga sings instead. “He just doesn’t know it yet. Buys flowers for someone at his agency each weak when you’re not looking.”

“No!” Touya blinks. “Really? Did he say something about them?”

“Touya.” You chide him again but he’s too invested now.

“Well, he said they really like cheese and asked if I knew where to get some. I didn’t know but Boss knew this great restaurant.”

“Oh, I wonder which restaurant you recommended.” He says and you shrug, but don’t bother hiding your smile.

-

The day is long, as it always is. 

Deku and Ochako take Toga out for lunch and Touya’s not mad about having you all for himself even if he has to share your attention with a few random customers coming in. 

“How long did Toga stay last night?” He asks when you’re alone again, handing you a ribbon to tie around his newest bouquet. He’s still struggling with those fuckers.

“I took her home around midnight.”

“She comes over too often. We should get her a kitten.”

“She’s lonely. But it’s not a bad idea. Also…” Your voice drops a little lower as you whisper the next part. “Don’t tell anyone I told you this but I think Rico’s falling for her.”

“He better.” He starts prepping a new Bouquet. “Because she’s definitely interested in him too.”

“Huh. She didn’t tell me that.”

He grins. “Didn’t need to. I just know her like that.”

-

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask when you place your sandwiches on the little table.

“Just admiring the view.” He tells you and you snort, climbing into his lap instead of taking a seat at the table. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey yourself.” He kisses you softly. 

For a moment, time freezes.

There’s only you and him. A million plants to care for, sandwiches and miso soup that are going to get cold. Just life how it’s supposed to be.

In a minute, he’ll show you the ice flower he made yesterday. He might ask you if you’d mind him moving in completely or if you prefer having one night per week for yourself - he knows you don’t. You always complain about missing him.

You might watch a movie on the TV set that Shouto bought you or read that poetry collection about flowers together he found last month. 

But right now, that’s not important. All of that can wait.

Life is good, because he’s with you.

taglist: @misfit-megumi @shoulmate @pixiesavvy @the2ndl @neko-my-cat @chelseaquake @tiredslepz @frozen-phoenix17 @spltbtch @touyasprettydoll @dream-girl-stuff

[satancopilotsmytardis]

*crossing my fingers and muttering. Please don't already be asked, please don't already be asked*

Steampunk?

I'm gonna be honest, I don't know much about steampunk as a genre, I just know it as an aesthetic with a lot of gears and a vaguely Victorian vibe, so I'm doing what I can. Who wants a sort of clockwork Frankenstein story? No one? Too bad, you're getting one anyway.

So Shigaraki was adopted by a man who was particularly skilled at making very life-like clockwork creatures and people, ones that could do nearly any task needed. They may be made out of dead people but shhh, no one has to know about that, it's fine, I promise.

He's started making a name for himself as well, trying to make these creations, but when he gets the latest corpse in to do his work, he cuts a couple of corners. I mean, the body was so badly damaged from the fire that killed it that he assumed he wouldn't need to take out the entire throat to get started. But when the clockwork doll asks him what happened, he knows he fucked up because his father taught him to never let them talk. Take out their voices, get their bodies working, and then when they are all functional, they turn on the last clockwork cog in their mind and it would essentially lobotomize them, making them perfect. But talking to the creatures is a bad idea. They could convince him they're still human.

He tells the clockwork that he died and that he won't remember that, won't remember anything as soon as his work is finished, and being pretty sharp, Dabi connects the dots about the other clockworks. But he... doesn't rage or try to fight back. He just asks if he'll actually make sure that he's useful this time around, make sure that he's worth something since he wasn't while he was alive. Tomura is kind of taken aback at that request but promises him that he will make him perfect, and Dabi sighs and waits to be switched off. Shigaraki does power him down for the night, but he doesn't take out his voice box. He has weeks left of work to do and he... is curious what could make a person think that this is their salvation.

Tomura continues to work on Dabi, given that name because he was burned badly and that's what Tomura had been calling this clockwork before he woke. Dabi thinks that name is just fine and does ask for little things as he's made, not concessions, not a reprieve, he just asks if the porcelain that will be used for his face can be half metal because he saw a clockwork like that once and thought it was pretty. He asks if the wig he eventually gets can be black, if the lights in his eyes, when they are replaced with the final ones, can be blue like they used to be. He understands that when he's finished, he won't really know why he wanted to look like this, he won't want anything but orders ever again. But he's never had much in his life, and if he's marching towards death for a second time, maybe the gentle hands easing his way there will give him these small gifts.

Shigaraki knows he never should have left him able to speak because he finds himself making Dabi's body more and more complicated, more intricate. More panels, finer gears, more, and more, and more life-like, and the process goes from something he can complete in a two-three months, to a project he works on nearly constantly in his free time for over a year. He adores Dabi, he loves him. And the day that he finishes him, he's perfect, the greatest creation he's ever made, and he tells Dabi he's finished. Dabi's confused because he's still present, his mind is intact. Shigaraki tells him he knows, he removed the gears that would have destroyed his mind. He will be able to function for, well at least two centuries before his parts start to wear out. He gives him a small case with some clothes and some money so that he can leave and he goes to ready himself for bed. He fully expects Dabi to have been playing a long con with him and that he will wake to the clockwork's hands around his neck, or to an empty workshop. Instead, he wakes to Dabi climbing into his bed with him asking to see just how life-like all of the parts he made really are.

(bonus) they may spend another year or two developing some additional silicone parts that can be swapped in and out of Dabi's body when he's in the mood for other things

(bonus bonus) Shigaraki teaches Dabi everything he knows about the clockwork necromancy and Dabi practices for nine years before Shigaraki poisons himself and Dabi puts him back together so that they can live together forever.

[babygirldabi]

Runaway

CW: MDNI, 18+ themes, mentions of domestic abuse, being held hostage, f!reader, mentions of avoiding pregnancy, porn without *a ton* of plot, daddy kink, drinking, drunken sex, rough sex, creampie, breeding, Dabi is an asshole but we love him anyway, might turn this into a part 2 if I decide to go anywhere with it, enjoy

You’ve been with the League for approximately five hours. From the first hour that Dabi found you shivering and beaten in the alleyway, and brought you to headquarters to present you to Shigaraki, time has been a blur. You only know that it’s been about three hours from the single analog clock hanging above the cozy little bar.

Cozy. Now that’s a word you never would have associated with Villains. It is, though. The space is poorly lit and badly furnished, but the sweet girl who bounces around on her tiptoes and speaks to Dabi as though he’s a big brother makes the shabby space brighter all on her own. Toga. She’s sitting next to you now, cross legged on the couch, holding your hand and beaming at you from time to time. 

Spinner has barely spoken to you, but the looks he keeps tossing your way are not malicious, only curious. Twice has been arguing, mostly with himself for hours- “I could be nice to her! No I can’t! She might be a friend- She’s probably an undercover Hero! This is an opportunity! THIS IS A SET UP!”

You have been sitting on a worn couch for some time now, shivering not from cold but from anticipation; after Dabi asked you to display your Quirk for Shigaraki, they disappeared into a room upstairs to discuss. You can hear them now, arguing heatedly in muffled bursts. 

Your Quirk. Your lips curl at the thought of it. When you were younger, you thought that someday it would make you the world’s greatest Hero, the next All Might. It didn’t do that for you. What it did do was land you in the 91st Hero slot for a couple years, slowly slipping through the ranks until you landed beyond the 100th mark; it gave you a Pro Hero husband who held your hand in public for the media, but beat you behind closed doors; It caused the Hero Commission to chew you up and spit you out time and time again: why isn’t your Quirk improving? Why aren’t you getting stronger? You’re being lazy. Finally, it cost you the life you had been trained to want. 

It sounds so nice to have a telekinesis Quirk until the pressure is really on you to be amazing with it, as though you aren’t worried that you’re going to crush someone under a car or dismantle an entire building full of civilians every time you’re involved in a chase. 

And what happens next? Your husband will turn on you. He will accuse you of making him look bad every time you fail. He will taunt you and mock you, swearing on everything he loves that you will never outrank him, never be stronger than him. He will become petty and domineering, cutting you off from your family, your friends, your confidence. And eventually, he will decide that you are no longer worth staying with because your career has fizzled and it makes him look weak. He will beat you, and throw you out of your own apartment, beginning a smear campaign with the media before you even have time to pack. 

By the time you leave the apartment, the Hero Commission will have fired and publicly denounced you. Your family will close the door in your face. Your friends will skirt by you in the street while on patrol and pretend they didn’t spend harrowing years at UA with you. To him, to them, to everyone- you are a monster. 

  And so, you will get on a train somewhere, and end up in a strange city several days later, your bruises yellowing, your scabs just starting to heal, nowhere to go, no money to spend, and sleep in an alleyway until you can figure out your next plan. 

You are twenty two years old, and you are already washed up. Even better, you are homeless, you are broke, and you are publicly cancelled for sins that aren’t even yours. You don’t know who your ex paid to beat him up before he went to the journalists that follow you everywhere and claim that you had finally snapped under the pressure; that you had beaten him bloody because you wanted his spot and you were angry that you’d fallen off the Hero lists. You know just from reading snippets of newspapers and magazines from other passengers on the train that he took every bit of abuse he ever dealt you and flipped it, pinning the title of Abuser on you. The media, always desperate for even a crumb of drama, ate the story up and published it country-wide. 

Overnight, you have been demolished to a nobody, a nothing. Meanwhile, he will undoubtedly rise up through the ranks, a Hero to them in more ways than one. 

When Dabi found you asleep in the alley, he knew who you were. He kept it short and simple, asking questions and listening to your answers with an unreadable face. 

You the ex Hero with the telekinesis Quirk?

Yeah.

What’d he do to you?

So, you told him. If the Heroes wouldn’t listen to your story, maybe the Villains were the only shot you had. You left nothing out, and when you were finished, he smiled and asked you one last question.

D’you wanna get even?

Shigaraki didn’t seem as impressed. You had sat on the couch in front of him, with Dabi standing off to the side. Shigaraki gave you a critical once-over, pursed his lips and turned his glare to Dabi.

“Why should I believe someone who, only a couple days ago, was a Pro Hero?” He demanded- of you or Dabi, you’re still not sure. “What is this, Dabi? What were you thinking?”

Dabi had shaken his head and thrown you a smirk. “Show him what you can do.”

Silently, you’d glanced around the room, finding your target. Wordlessly, you lifted a hand and tossed it to the side, a careless gesture that brought a bookshelf, taller and wider than you, flying across the room and smashing to bits against the wall.  

Shigaraki didn’t jump, didn’t react in the slightest except to flick his eyes at the pile of broken wood and then back to you.

“Dabi, let’s go upstairs,” he finally said. “Toga, Twice, stay with her and don’t let her leave.”

“No problem!” Toga had squealed, bouncing over to the couch to plop down next to you. “We can have some girl time!” 

Upstairs, the two villains are in the middle of an argument. Shigaraki is so angry he’s shaking, scratching his neck irritably. “I can’t believe you would risk us like this. Having her here is dangerous- puts us all in danger.”

“Shig, I’m telling you right now- that girl has nothing. She has nobody. She is about as strong as they come, and she’s ready to choose a different side. Why shouldn’t it be ours? It didn’t work with the Bakugou kid, but this is different. She has potential, and she has nobody looking for her. This is a done deal.”

“And what happens if somebody comes looking for her?”

“Then we kill them,” Dabi says immediately. “She can be part of us now. She isn’t interested in being a Hero anymore.”

Shigaraki is silent for a time, weighing the pros and cons. Finally, he turns back to Dabi, who is sprawled across his friend's bed, smoking a cigarette as though he doesn’t have a care in the world. 

“I want a full interrogation. I want to know everything from where she was born to what her favorite fucking color is, do you understand me? She’s your problem now. If your puppy shits in the house, I’m gonna rub your face in it.” He points to the door. “Go.” 

Dabi smirks and gives him a lazy salute before pushing himself off the bed and swaggering for the door. He knows Shig is all talk. Worst comes to worst, you change your mind, he kills you. Shig won’t begrudge him for shit. 

Downstairs, you are still on the couch with Toga. You glance up as Dabi descends the stairs, already tuning out her lively chatter to lock eyes with him, feeling your whole body tense up. 

Dabi reaches the last step and pauses, taking a drag from his cigarette, his eyes still on you. Toga turns and beams. 

“I love her, Dabi! I love y/n!” She squeals. “Can we keep her? I seriously need another girl here!”

Dabi exhales smoke through his nose and smirks at you before turning back to the bubbly blonde. 

“That’s still to be determined, Toga.” His tone with her is gentler than you could’ve imagined coming from someone like him. He continues, without malice, “Y/n and I have to have a little chat, so fuck off for the night, okay?” 

“Okayyyyy.” Toga heaves a sigh, then whirls back to face you and kisses your cheek. 

“I hope you get to stay,” she whispers to you, and then bounces up on her toes and trips across the room to the stairs before you think of a response. Dabi places a gentle hand on her head as she passes him and gives her the briefest of smiles. “Goodnight!” She chirps, and then she is gone, and the room is silent. 

Dabi turns back to you, his face unreadable, before a charming smile spreads over his lips. You don’t trust it. 

“Join me,” he requests, sweeping one hand towards the bar. He doesn’t wait for you to answer as he walks behind the bar and begins inspecting bottles. 

You stand, uncertain, and edge towards a stool as he keeps his back to you. 

“Are you gonna kill me?” You finally ask. Your voice is trembling, and you internally curse yourself for sounding so weak.  

Dabi pretends not to hear you, still holding up bottles and setting them back on the shelf. “What’s your drink?” He tosses over his shoulder. 

You swallow hard. At least, if he is going to kill you, you can go out drunk. “Whiskey. Neat.”

He nods appreciatively. “A hero after my own heart,” he chuckles, but there’s an edge to his voice. Turning, he sets two glasses on the bar and pours a generous amount of the spirit in each glass before pushing one gently towards you. 

“Drink,” he orders, and you obey. Whatever comes next, you’d rather not be sober for, anyway. 

He watches you toss back the drink before setting the glass back down on the bar. “What a good girl,” he muses, barely loud enough for you to hear him. You catch the words anyway.

You jerk your head sharply up to look at him. Blue eyes burn back at you. Wordlessly, he pours you another. 

“To answer your question,” he begins conversationally, as you take a sip of the second whiskey, “no, I’m not planning on killing you. Your Quirk is strong and it would be a damn shame and a fucking waste to let it go. The problem is…” he leans in over the bar,  close enough for you to feel his warm breath on your cheek. “The problem is, we fucking hate Heroes. So if you’re going to be with us, we need to trust that you’re actually going to be with us. Otherwise, yeah.” He takes a sip of his drink, leaning back casually. “We would have to kill you.” 

You swallow hard. “I‘ve already told you why-”

“I need to know everything,” he interrupts. “Shig’s orders. Can’t have us just bringing strays in and expecting them to be on board because we gave them a place to sleep, can we?” 

Being called a stray ruffles your feathers, but you know he’s right. You sigh, finish the whiskey, and hand him the glass, indicating that you’d like another. “Ask what you need to ask.” 

He takes you through your whole life history; your time at UA, the friends you grew up with, how you ended up marrying your husband, how and when exactly things went wrong, the sting of recounting it all substantially lessened since you are incredibly fucking drunk. He listens with a face that is mostly calm, blank, eyes occasionally flicking down to your mouth as you speak. When you stand to stretch, you catch his eyes roaming down your body. 

The whiskey has not only made your tongue loose, but it’s made you cheeky. You see him staring and offer him a half smile. 

“Did you fuck your husband a lot?” He asks abruptly. 

You bite down on a gasp and feel the familiar flush spreading over your collarbone. “Excuse me?”

“Did you fuck your husband a lot?” He repeats, trying to fight back the smirk that’s creeping into his face. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” You demand. 

“It doesn’t, really. I was just curious.” He steps out from behind the bar, approaching you slowly, as though you’re a wounded animal. You watch him approach, any snide remarks you had to bite back with, dying in your throat as you take him in, drunk as you are. Sober, you wouldn’t have admitted he was beautiful. 

Drunk you has no such qualms. 

“I was just curious,” he continues, “because you were married for at least a few years, and you haven’t mentioned any babies. No kids. You don’t usually see that in a Pro-Hero marriage.” 

He stops inches from you; if you were to look up at him right now, you would be tantalizingly close to his lips. You fight to remain steady, focusing instead on the worn patches of his long black coat. 

“I was…trying to avoid that… with him,” you finally mutter, clenching and unclenching your fists as you think back to all the fights that followed the failed pregnancy tests, the birth control that you kept so carefully hidden away. 

His voice is low, soft, like velvet. “Why?”

“I didn’t want him to create miniature versions of himself. They would have been monsters.” 

Dabi’s hand drifts up between the two of you, catching your chin and raising your gaze up to meet his glowing eyes. “All heroes are monsters,” he breathes, and then he kisses you. 

The strangled gasp that leaves your throat is embarrassing; he chuckles into your mouth as your hands reach up and touch his chest, his face, his shoulders, kissing him back with fervor. He kisses you languidly; you are the one fighting for him to kiss harder. 

Some small part of you knows that in the morning, this will be humiliating- the way you threw yourself at a stranger- a Villain- while drunk on whiskey. But the past few days have been so hard, and it’s been a long time since anyone has even looked at you the way Dabi has been for the past hour. You can’t remember the last time you were kissed like this. Dabi’s lips are slow and smooth, brushing his tongue against your lower lip and then biting down gently. You let out a wanton moan that has you blushing again. He laughs. 

“C’mon,” he mutters, pulling away and turning towards a door just off the side of the bar. You grip his hand and stumble after him. 

Dabi leads you into a dark, sparsely decorated room; an unmade bed, dresser, and a bedside table holding a few packs of cigarettes are the only things you take in before he shuts the door and backs you into it, kissing you again, harder this time. 

The only light in the room comes from the curtainless window; the room is lit orange from the streetlights outside. In the dark and shadow, the only thing that matters is Dabi’s lips as they explore your mouth, your neck and your collarbone as he keeps you held fast against the door. You are panting, your heart hammering in your chest so loud you’re convinced he will hear it. He allows your hands to run through his hair as he bites your neck, earning you a soft groan pressed against your throat. 

“So you wouldn’t let your husband fuck a baby into you, but you’re willing to go to bed with a villain?” He chuckles, his hands hot as he runs them along your waist, reaching up to tweak at your nipples, hard through your shirt. You gasp at the contact. 

“My husband would have ruined my children,” you gasp, despite yourself. Dabi shoves one leg between yours, grinding against your clothed cunt, making you moan. 

“Mmm. Well,” Dabi seizes your hips and guides them along his thigh, forcing you to grind yourself against him, panting. “At least you’re not entirely a fucking idiot.” 

Without warning he seizes your waist and lifts you; automatically, you wrap your legs around him and cling as he carries you to the bed. “Lay down,” he commands, and you slither from his arms to the mattress. 

“So obedient.” For a split second he gazes down at you, spread across his mattress, before leaning down to peel your shirt off. You eagerly assist, yanking your pants down your legs and shaking them off your ankles so that you’re in nothing but your plain black panties. Dabi’s eyes glow as he crawls on top of you, ducking his head to kiss and nip at your exposed breasts while one hand glides up your thigh and shoves your panties to the side. You hiss as his fingers graze your cunt, parting the folds to find your clit. 

“So wet already. And all I’ve done is kiss you,” he gloats, increasing the pressure slightly as he rubs slow circles against your clit. “What a good little girl.” So fast you’re not sure how it happens, your panties are ripped in half and on the floor. Sinking beside you on the mattress, Dabi tucks you under one arm while the free one pushes your thighs apart. His fingers graze your cunt, lazily, circling your clit once or twice before he thrusts a finger inside you. You jump at the unexpected contact and moan into his neck and he begins to finger fuck you, slowly at first, then harder, adding a second finger as he feels you relax.

You’re panting, unable to do anything but moan and whimper as he fingers you, whispering filth in your ear. 

“Bet your piece of shit husband never did this for you. Bet he let this pretty little pussy go to waste, huh?” 

Before you can answer, Dabi pulls his fingers out of your cunt and stuffs them into your mouth. “Suck,” he commands, and you oblige. 

Quickly sitting up, Dabi pulls off his long coat, his white shirt and discards them on the floor before undoing his belt. Your eyes widen as he pulls his jeans down and his cock springs free. It’s huge, nearly twice the size of your husbands. You glance between his cock, which he is now pumping in front of you, to his face in obvious panic. 

“Will it fit?” You whisper, both terrified and excited. 

Dabi chuckles, eyes alight with amusement as he crawls back on top of you, his length dragging over your stomach and between your legs as he kisses you softly. 

“So innocent,” he murmurs. “So…pure.” He rubs his cock against your cunt, coating it in your wetness as you take a shaky breath.  He ducks down to kiss your hair, your cheek, your throat. 

“Good little girl,” Dabi croons into your hair. He brushes his lips against the shell of your ear, making you shiver. “What are you doing here?” 

You don’t have time to think up an answer before he slams his way into you. The unexpected fullness makes you cry out, arching your back up so that your body is pressed flush against his. Dabi groans, loudly, and begins to move, setting a punishing rhythm that you buckle under. Dropping into the mattress, you close your eyes and keen, loudly enough that he claps his hand over your mouth. When you open your eyes, he is staring at you, a strange, dangerous smile quirking the edges of his lips up. His bright blue eyes gleam at you, standing out in the darkness of the room. “Hush, baby. Just take it.”

You obey, mentally forcing yourself to stop thinking as he pounds into your cunt, allowing your body to accept and match the rhythm of his hips. 

“F-aahh, fuck,” you babble, your voice muffled against his hand. Feigning concern, he takes his hand away, stops for a moment. “What was that?”

“f-UCKK,” You scream, as he slams his length into you, once, twice, three times. Each time, he pulls out long and slow, pauses, and rams into your cunt to the hilt. The hand that was covering your mouth moves to your throat and takes a vice-like grip there. 

“What a good girl,” he moans, slowing his pounding to move more gently inside you. “So tight for me, so wet for me…”

“Nngh. Shit,” you half-moan, half-hiss as he slides his length inside you again. Dabi’s long fingers squeeze the sides of your throat softly, a threat and a promise all at once. 

“F-feels good,” you whimper, as his hips begin to swivel slowly, his cock churning inside you in a circular motion. He’s deep, deeper than anyone’s ever been before. You didn’t know it could feel this good. There’s a tightening in your lower belly that you don’t recognize, and you look at Dabi with some alarm. 

He grins at you triumphantly; he can feel it, too. Your walls are gradually tightening against his cock, hugging him as he fucks you. 

“Aw, does the baby want to cum?” He cooes, careful to keep his pace, letting the pressure build. “Pretty baby wants to cum for me?”

“I-I-oh, fuck,” you whine, your small hands scrabbling against his arms, reaching for him desperately. “I- I haven’t...ever- ahh-hhh, fuck-”

Dabi’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before the shutters come down, hiding his surprise from you. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve never cum before,” he mutters, barely remembering to keep moving inside you. Your only answer is to whimper, rocking your hips against his, intoxicated by the tightness in your belly. 

“Look at me,” he growls, releasing your throat only to grab your chin, squishing your cheeks under his fingers, forcing your eyes to his. “You’ve never what?”

You’re panting, trying to clear the brain fog enough to answer him. His fingers tighten against your face, a warning, and you shake your head, trying to focus. 

“Not...not with anyone,” you finally find the words. “Only alone.”

He stares at you, his face unreadable. Surely she’s lying. She’s grown. She’s in her 20’s. You gaze at each other, his glowing eyes flicking between both of yours, trying to discern the truth, but all he sees is the desperation and innocence in yours. He has to admit, though- the idea of being the first one to make you cum, to feel you explode around his cock, your first time, makes him even harder than he already was. It feels territorial, almost as if he’s marking you. His cock, still buried in your cunt, twitches in response to these thoughts, making you moan and grind your hips to his, begging. 

“Please, please,” you mewl, grinding against him again.

“Oh, fuck.” He smiles. “This is gonna be fuckin’ fun.”

Dabi begins to fuck you in earnest, a hard, steady pounding into your cunt as he works for his reward. He groans again as you cry out, reaching for him, then leans forward and catches your arms, slamming them down and pinning you to the bed. 

“Take it, baby. Take my cock like a good little bitch,” he rasps into your ear, and grazes his teeth against your neck. It’s almost too much; the pounding, the wetness of your cunt, the way he refuses to let you touch him as he fucks you, as though you are an object. The thought makes the pressure in your belly worse; I belong to him, I’m his property. You’re babbling now, almost hysterical with the loss of control and how good it feels to be used as a cocksleeve. Of their own accord, your legs spread wider underneath him, welcoming the fucking, shaking as they straighten out into the air. 

“Yes, baby, yes,” Dabi groans into your ear, steadily fucking you towards your release. “Cum on my cock, baby. Let go for me.”

That does it- the coil in your belly snaps and unravels and you fall apart around him, shaking and crying out into his shoulder. You don’t know what you’re saying anymore. He doesn’t stop fucking you as you shatter around him, but slows a bit, letting your body adjust as you collapse underneath him, trembling, your cunt fluttering around his cock. 

“Good girl,” he hums in your ear, his breath hot against your neck. “Such a good girl for me. Didn’t that feel good?”

“Yes, Dadd-Dabi,” you sigh, and he finally releases your arms and lets you curl them around his neck.

“You can call me Daddy,” he smirks, then pulls you up with him so that he is sitting up on the bed and you are sitting in his lap, still stretched over his cock. The movement jolts your still-sensitive cunt and you mewl at the adjustment, arms tightening around his neck. 

“Daddy’s not done with you yet, baby,” he whispers. His hands fall to your hips and begin to nudge, guiding you back and forth against his cock. “Ah, good girl,” he whispers ferociously as he forces you to grind. “Move on Daddy’s cock like this for me.”

You obey, moving your hips on your own. He gasps and groans, dropping back to lay down, unfolding his legs and bracing them against the mattress as you ride him. His hands reach up to your breasts, pinching your nipples gently, and then harder as you moan for him. A smile ghosts his lips. “That’s a good little cunt,” he breathes. Encouraged, you move faster, feeling the tightening in your belly. Again? Can I?

Dabi feels you tightening again and pants, suddenly sitting up and pulling you off of him. You whine at the sudden emptiness, the loss of him filling you up. He pays no mind to your complaints. 

“Get on all fours,” He orders, and you quickly comply. Taking hold of your hips, he slams into you from behind, and you scream in earnest this time. 

Leaning forward, Dabi grabs a handful of your hair and tugs, forcing your head back to make eye contact with you. 

“It’s my turn,” he says in a low, dangerous voice. You shiver. “I’m going to fuck you very, very hard. If you need to cum, you can cum. Daddy’s going to breed you now.”

For some reason, and much to your embarrassment, you feel your eyes filling with tears. Perhaps the overstimulation, perhaps the rush of hormones that flooded you after your first orgasm, but whatever the reason, you are suddenly crying. Dabi notices and reaches forward, wiping a tear away from your cheek. “Good little crybaby,” he mutters, and begins to pound you.

Oh, this is so good. You let your head fall back towards the ceiling as your eyes roll back in your skull, mouth open and drooling as Dabi slams into you from behind. You don’t even have the strength to moan, breathing raggedly as he curses and pants from his place in your cunt. One of his hands is still gripping your hair at the roots, and he tugs at you, bringing you slightly back to your senses, making you moan, loudly. 

“Daddy, please,” you sob, pupils dilating as he reaches around to wrap his hand around your throat once more. “‘S too much… I can’t…”

“Shut up. Shut your mouth,” he snarls, curling his other hand around your hip to push you against him. “You’re a toy, nothing else.” The closer he gets to finishing, the harsher he is, you vaguely realize. Almost afraid of what would happen if you tried to stop him now, you shut your mouth and obey, whimpering softly as he continues his relentless pace. Despite your fear, the tightening in your belly increases, threatening to snap at any moment, and Dabi doesn’t miss it. 

“You like when I tell you what to do, huh, cunt?” He growls, his fingers tightening against your throat. “Like being my little fucktoy, don’t you?”

You sob in response, half hoping he’ll take pity on you, half praying he doesn’t. 

“That’s a good little bitch. Cum for Daddy, slut. Give it to me.” 

You implode. 

You’re vaguely aware of your scream, the way you writhe against him, and from some distance away hear him lose himself, too. 

“Oh, fu-fuck, fuck I’m gonna- fuck,” he snarls, seizing your hips with both hands as he pours himself into you. You feel him shaking violently, panting, as he fucks you through his orgasm. Your cunt is overflowing, dripping as he continues to slide in and out of you. Finally, he slows to a stop, whimpering quietly, his breath hot against your spine. When he finally eases out of you, you collapse into the mattress, struggling to catch your breath, head spinning.

As you come down from your high, you realize that he is laying on his back beside you, lighting a cigarette. One hand is tucked behind his head, lazily, as he gazes at the ceiling. His azure eyes flick towards you, a smile ghosting over his face. He waits, saying nothing. 

“That...that was…” You struggle to find words. Intoxicating? Terrifying? The beginning of an addiction?

He smiles absently, turning back to the ceiling, raising the cigarette to his lips. “Thanks for your service,” he says unironically, then sits up suddenly, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, and reaches down for his clothes. You watch in dismay as he begins to dress.

“You’re leaving?”

“I have to talk to Shig. Figure out what we’re gonna do with you.” He stands and heads for the door, his cigarette dangling from his hand loosely.

“Do with me?” You inquire, the familiar feeling of being used creeping up your throat like vomit. He ignores the alarm in your voice and reaches for the doorknob. You swallow hard, give it one last shot.

“Dabi?”

He finally turns to look at you and you see it; the shutters have come down. There is no sign of the former Dabi, the one who held you and praised you only minutes ago, anywhere on his face. His eyes are cold, his face remote. 

“You can sleep here tonight,” he says, gesturing around his room. “Tomorrow we’ll talk.”

You don’t bother to answer. There’s no point.

Dabi slips out the door, shutting it behind him. You curl up on your side, covering yourself with one of the threadbare blankets, ignoring the sting of tears in your eyes, the burn of the lump in your throat. At least it’s a place to stay for the night. Maybe tomorrow, they’ll do you a favor and just kill you.

Outside the room, Dabi steps away from the door and faces the bar. Shigaraki is sitting on one of the rounded bar stools, nursing a glass of something that smells strong. Kurogiri polishes an empty glass, glancing at Dabi, wisely keeping his mouth shut.

Dabi swaggers over and throws himself down on a stool a few feet away. The look Shigaraki gives him makes him smirk. 

“Damn, Shig. What’s that face for?”

“Dabi, I told you to interrogate her, not fuck her.”

Dabi shrugs, unbothered. “You know what whiskey does to me. Anyway, I got her to talk.” 

Shigaraki looks unimpressed. “And?”

“And I got what you needed.” Dabi fills Shig in on the talk you two had less than an hour ago at the bar. 

“But do we know what her convictions are? Do we know she won’t go crawling back to her Hero husband after running away for a couple days? How do we know she’s serious?” Shig demands. 

Dabi considers this, then shrugs. “I don’t think we can get a guarantee.” 

“Goddamn it.” Shig finishes the drink in one large gulp and smacks the glass down against the bar, so hard that it cracks. Kurogiri sighs and reaches for the waste basket underneath the bar.

“We’re gonna have to kill her.”

“I don’t think so, Shig. She’s got a strong Quirk, and nowhere to go. We aren’t there yet.”

“She could run away- tell the Heroes where we are!”

“So we won’t let her leave,” Dabi argues. “I’ll tie her up if I have to.” She’d probably like that, a voice whispers in the back of his head, and his cock twitches in his pants. Fuck.

Shig is quiet for a minute, scratching his neck absentmindedly. “I’ll give you three days,” he finally says. “If she gets away, or tells anyone where we are, I’ll Decay you both myself.”

“Yes, sir,” Dabi drawls nonchalantly, wandering behind the bar to pour himself a drink. Shigaraki glares at him.

“That means you’re in the room with her tonight.”

“Aw, Shig, come on- you know I don’t sleep with them...after I sleep with them.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your stupid rule. Consider this a slumber party until you figure out what we’re gonna do about her.” Shigaraki stands and stomps up to his room. “And I’ll know if you’re sleeping on the couch!” His voice echoes down the stairwell before his door slams. 

Dabi sighs and downs his drink in one gulp. Looks like he’s in for a weird few days. He sets his glass down on the bar, nods to Kurogiri, and heads back to his room. Inside, you are sleeping soundly in the middle of his goddamn bed, leaving no room for anyone but yourself. He leans against the door and watches you for a time. Your eyes are still puffy from crying, tears staining your cheeks. In your sleep, your foot twitches against the mattress. 

Dabi slides down until he’s sitting on the floor, and leans his head back. The window is locked and also squeaky as shit from years of disuse. There’s no way you’ll be able to climb out of it without waking him, and no way you’ll be able to get out the bedroom door if he sleeps leaning against it. Whether or not either of you like it, you’re stuck with each other, at least for the night. He closes his eyes and gives in to sleep, trying not to think about the alarm he felt when Shigaraki said he would have to kill you. He doesn’t ask himself why it scared him; he doesn’t want to know. 

[urarakasdiary]

- THE ETERNAL FOUNTAIN OF LOVE

Plantonic Dabi with his little sister! that suddenly turns yandere? sorry, I can't write anything cute.

First of all, Im so sorry for this long ass hiatus I wanted to get back to writing but I was going through some shit for the past year and a half 🥲 Im gonna try my best to get back to writing from now onwards. Enjoy! <3

Dabi never really liked you ever since his parents brought you home that day. He didn't want to admit it, but he wanted all the attention his dad could give only to himself. The attention was already torn away from him because of Shoto, you coming into the picture would make him invisible in the eyes of his father, which enraged him.

Of course, you were adopted; Rei could not handle another pregnancy. The day you came home, everyone noticed it. Touya's even more unusual behavior. He was staring daggers into your soul, cursing under his breath. He had thought why was he like this to you? Was he jealous? no way. You were just annoying. At least to him.

His father was a busy man, he would not visit the home often. Rei was sent away after the incident, Natsuo would go to school, and so would Fuyumi. That would leave him and you alone. He didn't think he would like spending any time with you alone, but you were actually kind of cute...and sweet? maybe even a breath of fresh air from his wild family? maybe it was because you were adopted, all his siblings tried their best to be kind and gentle with him, often keeping opinions about him to themselves and not pointing out his mistakes in fear of pissing him off. But you? god you ran your mouth so much with no hesitation.

You would be the first person to point out something wrong or mean he did or said. And you did it with no fear of him whatsoever. Growing up, he realized he loved you. You were the only partially sane person in this household.

"I will burn you so bad that even hell's fire will feel better than my flames"

"Touya-nii don't say that! that's mean. You should start taking classes on how to speak to people without making them piss their pants."

You were also the reason why he stayed home that cursed day. (The day he 'died'). You needed help with homework and asked him for help. He had not gone to school, ever. But since it was you who was asking, he learned it from YouTube just to teach you.

When you were in middle school some bullies learned you were adopted, and from then on they started picking and cursing at you. Some days the bullying was mild, somedays they would flush your face in the toilet bowl. You stayed quiet hoping they would change one day or another. But you could only handle so much.

Mental breakdowns were a familiar thing to you now, maybe even a friend who would visit often. Touya had picked up on your odd behavior, he shook it off for some days thinking it was a bad day or shit. But when the 'bad days' seemed more frequent, his worry grew.

He had you explain everything that was going on in detail. How could he have just shaken off your odd behavior? He didn't deserve to be your brother.

Maybe he was obsessive over his sister, but he was just looking after her.

Bullseye. He found them.

"Heard you girls love calling my sister names?"

"3 girls found dead at local playground, burned to death. Investigation launched on the 8th of April, no evidence or traces left behind, police suspect..."

He didn't expect the reaction you were giving from the news. He thought you would be happy, instead, you were crying yourself a river.

"Don't cry [name], come here"

You embraced yourself in the warmth of your brother, unsuspecting of anything.

"I'll always be there for you."

[bighoeforbnha]

I don't know if someone already talked about it, probably did, but there's a certain aspect in the writing of the Todoroki household that I really like, artistry-wise.

TRIGGER WARNING FOR MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC ABUSE

Because I've always liked how the Todoroki kids present different fronts and responses to family trauma and abuse in their household.

Todoroki - seeems to be on the fence. He is angry, he's fed-up, he's there for his mother, but he sees his father tries to do something. He's not ready to just forigve him. Actions speak the loudest and he's waiting for results, but there seems to be some hope for a better tomorrow with his household.

Fuyumi - she was obviously hurt as well. But above everything else, she wants her family to be happy. To be whole and together, learning to heal together and moving together to better days. She's ready to forgive if it means they can finally be closer.

Natsuo - he is full of anger. He thinks their father doesn't deserve forgiveness. He thinks all of that should have never happened and there are some things you can never apologize for, because you shouldn't have done them in the first place, ever. To him, there can be no happiness with the man who hurt them, but he still listens to his siblings in my eyes. But his anger isn't as far gone as ->

Dabi/ Touya - there will be no forgiveness in his eyes. There will be no family, no piece. No apology could amount to the level of satisfaction the demise of his abuser would bring. He seems to be aware the hole in his heart is too deep, his body too burnt. But he doesn't care. Care was anihilated inside of him years ago. But if he's going down to hell, be sure that he's taking you there with him.

From forgiveness to uncertainty, to anger and full-blown disgust to the point of violence. In terms of writing? LOVING IT.

[keiscake]

hawks x gn!reader

fluff/shortfic

a/n ~ i've been listening to this on repeat for the last week, and it inspired a short fic for me to write. i also got the opportunity to test out some photoshopping, with lots of help from my boyfriend. hope you enjoy this short little fic!

you were told that college was a place of love and romance, a place for relationships to bloom and grow. you were a hopeless romantic all your life, so you went into your first year with the expectation that you'd meet someone. though you didn't meet someone, and going into your third year you still hadn't met someone. but you met some great friends.

they were all in couples by the third semester of your first year. todoroki and momo, denki and jirou, deku and uraraka, the list went on. needless to say you were surrounded by couples all the time. but you got used to it eventually, it became the norm after almost two years after all. and after almost two years you finally gave up on the idea of love and romance.

it made you wonder, is loving as good as they say?

you had been counting the day since november. the same november that made you realise that love wasn't meant for you. the same november that dabi had rejected you. it felt like your whole world came crashing down that snowy day. your friends held your hand through it all and reassured you that your time would come, but you decided that you should take it as a sign instead.

you gave a second chance to cupid, but now you were left feeling stupid. your destiny was just not written with a player two. you would just get on with your life as normal. you'd go to class, put your head down in the books, hang out with your friends, what more could you ask for? well, wouldn't it be okay for you to ask the heaven's for one small little thing?

most nights you felt lonely, crying in your room. wishing to find a lover that could hold you. a lover that would embrace you tightly and share the same warmth with you. a lover that would spoil you with kisses and touches. a lover you could build a future with. it was all you wanted. but after that november, you were so skeptical of love.

but maybe you thought that it wasn't the heavens that drifted you away from your destiny with a player two. maybe it was yourself. you could try a little harder instead of relying on fate and cupid. you decided that your destiny was in your hands now. so you built up the courage to speak to him.

he was the closest thing to an angel you had ever seen. golden eyes with a warm and soft gaze, voice soothing and gentle, and crimson red wings. hawks. his name was hawks. he was in the same class as you and spoke to you every now and them. though you never realised how kind he was to you until that day, or how kind he was in general.

hawks started speaking to you outside of class. so you matched his energy by inviting him to hang out with your friends, and it was a hit. he was quickly taken into the group, and you were glad. your friends even teased you about being in a couple with hawks. you didn't detest the idea, just unsure that it was even possible.

but the more hawks stook around the stronger the idea was. he nursed you when you had the flu, panicking to your dorm room with medicine and apologising about not being quick enough. he always made excuses for you if you were late to class or shared his notes if you didn't quite catch everything. it made you realise you were a fool, a fool for love.

and maybe after all that time your hard work paid off. hawks asked you out in november during your third year of college. he took you to the park on a walk so that the two of you could blow off some steam. you walked by the lake that was frozen over, the moon's reflection as clear as day on its icy surface. you admired the view.

whilst you were enticed in the moonlight, hawks wrapped his arms around you and whispered in your ear, "will you be mine y/n?". your face was all hot, despite the ever falling snow. your heart was melting. your hands shaking. your destiny finally falling into place. you were just a hopeless girl seeking for someone to share the feeling with. the feeling of love.

and you found him.

[ghostbeam]

biting down | Dabi/Touya Todoroki

He’s fast as he weaves through the trees, breath hot against your neck as he runs as if he has any need for breathing at all. You feel your shoulders drop in relief, tucking your head into the crook of his neck, the texture of his skin a comfort to you as you think about what could have happened if he hadn’t found you. 

Dabi is a vampire, a real, live (debatable), blood-sucking, sunlight-repulsed, creature of the night.

You think you might be in love with him.

Notes: hiiii so this is my vamp Dabi fic I’ve finally finished!! Enjoy this mess of blood and gore and cheesy corny vampire romance. A big thanks to bun and mari for talking me through this entire thing and giving me the idea for a vamp fic in the first place!! Thanks for reading!! (Title is from biting down by lorde) the playlist for the fic is here if u wanna listen!

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, f!reader, explicit content, some angst, violence, vampires, Dabi picks reader up, detailed descriptions of blood and gore (lots and lots of blood), blood kink, self inflicted harm (reader cuts her palm open), Dabi is a little mean sometimes, biting (he bites ur neck, thighs, chest he drinks ur blood he’s a vampire), pain play (biting to puncture skin, biting and drinking from already open wounds), drinking each other’s blood, fingering, (bloody) oral f!receiving, bloody sex, unprotected sex, marking, bruising, corny vamp dialogue, if u don’t like blood PLEASE do not read this

Words: 5.3k

Blood drips from your palm as you hold it high in the air. The liquid pools in the open wound, streaks of red falling down your arm. 

“Alright!” You call out to the darkness, “I don’t know how else to find you! I don’t even know if this will work, but I have to try!”

You know it’s foolish, especially now that you know that they exist. Years of research, years of books and films and legends and rumors, everything you’d spent your life chasing was real and just out of reach. You don’t know how to let it go. You don’t know how to let him go.

You can’t see much of it in the darkness, but you can feel the blood as it slides down, wet and warm. It dries tacky in the wind and you wonder what it might taste like, if it’s as sweet as it seems to be, as sweet as he makes it sound. Before you can think about touching your tongue to the red, you’re scooped up into arms that aren’t unfamiliar to you.

He’s fast as he weaves through the trees, breath hot against your neck as he runs as if he has any need for breathing at all. You feel your shoulders drop in relief, tucking your head into the crook of his neck, the texture of his skin a comfort to you as you think about what could have happened if he hadn’t found you. 

Dabi is a vampire, a real, live (debatable), blood-sucking, sunlight-repulsed, creature of the night.

You think you might be in love with him.

The two of you are at your place within no time. He drops you from his arms, your feet hitting the ground as he walks through your front door. He doesn’t speak as he makes his way to your bathroom, and you follow him close behind, blood dripping from your wound onto the floor. He picks you up and places you on the counter, and you can see your blood on his neck and the collar of his shirt from where you held onto him. 

He flips open the lid of the first aid kit beside you and fixes you with a harsh glare.

“Are you mad?” You question, even though you know the answer.

“Are you an idiot?” He spits as he runs your hand under warm water, “I’m seriously asking. Why would you do this?”

“I didn’t know how else to find you!” You argue, throwing your free hand into the air. 

“Maybe I didn’t want to be found.” He replies, cleaning your palm with alcohol. 

“Then don’t tell a vampire-obsessed freak that vampires exist.” he presses into your palm with the cloth and you flinch. You pull your hand from his grasp and stare at the blood that remains on your fingers and wrist. Looking up at him, you hold it out to him, “Want some?”

“Very funny.” He says impassively, but you can see how he clenches his jaw at the thought of tasting you. He moves your hand away before wrapping it tightly in gauze. You sit and watch him as he places your supplies back into the first aid kit, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, though you figure that’s more about your blood than anything. He places it back underneath the sink and stands up, but not before taking your hand in his. 

He brings it to his lips, and your breath hitches in your throat as he slides his tongue over the drying blood there. He sucks two of your fingers into his mouth, lapping up all that he can while holding your stare. He pulls them from his lips with a wet pop, swallowing harshly. The two of you are silent for a moment, your hand still clutched in his as you hold your breath. You’re sure he can hear your heart beat rapidly in your chest, but you’re unsure of how to calm down, not when he’s so close, not when he’s looking at you like this. You think he might do something, bite you, kiss you, maybe both, but he drops your hand to your lap and pulls away.

“Clean up.” He tells you, leaving you behind in the bathroom as you stare down at your shaking hand. 

You find him in your bedroom, pulling your comforter halfway down your bed. He looks up at where you stand in the doorway, arms crossed over your stomach as you meet his gaze. He raises an eyebrow at you and nods his head towards your bed, a silent demand for you to get in. 

You take a step forward, standing by the side of your bed and beginning to move before pausing your actions. You look up at him through your lashes and ask, “will you stay?”

“Get in.” He doesn’t hesitate to command, and you let out a long sigh before sliding into your bed. He pulls the covers up to your chin and begins to turn away, but you take his wrist in your hand before he can leave. 

“Dabi.” You plead. He pauses with his back turned to you. His wrist is cold between your fingers and you can’t see the expression on his face. You watch his shoulders tense and then relax as he pulls himself from your grip. Defeated, you fall back into your bed with a sigh, but he doesn’t move. 

“Okay.” He finally speaks. He turns to you, climbing into bed next to you. He lies over your comforter and motions for you to give him room. You relax into your bed, a soft smile on your face as you look up at him. He rolls his eyes and speaks again, “Okay, only to make sure you don’t run off again, you little maniac.” 

He flicks your forehead and turns off the lamp beside your bed. You turn to lay on your side, and Dabi watches as you fall asleep. He doesn’t touch you, no matter how much he wants to, his fingers twitching with want. You’re warm beside him and he watches the way your body moves with each breath you take, all too aware of how alive you are and how dead he is.

You wake up the next morning to an empty bed and a Dabi’s number scrawled in red glitter gel pen on a note that reads: Text me next time. No need for a blood sacrifice.

…

Dabi knows he shouldn’t get involved with you. He knows that humans and vampires are a deadly mixture, whatever is between you cannot end well no matter how he tries to look at it, no matter how much he’s tried to justify it in his mind. 

You’re doomed. 

He knows this. He knows that he’s a monster, that he’s been one for years, that he will always be one. He knows that you are flesh and bone with a beating heart, that you have an entire life ahead of you, that you’d be better off without him. He’s certain of it. 

And Dabi knows that he should not be picking you up from one of your night classes in an effort to spend more time with you.

You spot him across the parking lot, his ivory hair standing out against the darkness. He leans against his car, sunglasses perched on his nose despite the lack of sun. He grins when he sees you, opening the door and helping you inside. His cold hand rests against your thigh for the entirety of the ride as you tell him about your classes. The mundane events of your human life are endlessly interesting to him, even with all his years of experience. 

Dabi lives on a secluded property up at the peak of some mountain you can’t remember the name of. It’s a house far too large for one man to be living in. It’s a crowded place full of books that line shelves and spill out onto the hardwood floors, hanging plants and dead flowers, exposed brick littered with band posters from the ’70s, large panels of glass windows that look out into the expanse of trees below the mountain, the same forest that you live directly on the other side of. 

His heavy boots creak against the worn floors, moving to flip the switch and pull the chords of lamps from various thrift stores and antique shops, filling the place with a dull light to make up for the lack of working bulbs in any of the overhead lighting. 

The kitchen, however, is the one place with a working light, one you forced Dabi to let you put in yourself as he held the ladder for you and snuck peaks up your skirt. You can hear Dabi sorting through records in the next room as you start on making a cup of coffee for yourself, opening the fridge to grab the coffee beans that sit next to the blood bags, the only other thing that occupies the fridge. 

This has become routine for the two of you. Dabi feels guilty about ruining your sleep schedule, letting you drink cup after cup in order to stay up with him, but he’s too selfish to tell you anything. 

You feel rough hands grip your hips from behind as you pour the hot liquid into a handmade ceramic mug you’ve decided is your favorite, and Dabi rests his chin on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you. You relax into his hold, leaning your head against his chest. 

There’s a vase at the edge of the counter, something also handmade and a little lumpy with painted pink roses around the bottom. You’ve never seen it before, which isn’t such a rare occurrence in the crowded home, but there’s something about it that intrigues you, curious enough to ask Dabi where it came from. 

“That’s, uh, an old vase my sister made. I found it in the basement in some old box.” He speaks next to your ear. You pull yourself from his hold and he follows behind you like a magnet, one hand on your hip as you move to pick the vase up.

“It’s pretty.” You tell him, examining it in your hands, “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

He stiffens behind you as he always does when you find yourself asking too many questions about him. “Yeah, I have a couple of brothers too.”

“Really?” You question, turning around to look at him, thrilled at his sudden openness, “What are they like?”

His hand drops from your hip and moves to scratch the back of his neck. With his eyes no longer on you and darting from the ceiling to the vase to wherever else he can place them in order not to face you, you can tell he’s uncomfortable with the topic. It’s the way he always behaves when you peel a layer too far back. 

“They’re, well–look–” He cuts himself off, finally finding your eyes again, “I can’t–”

“You don’t want to tell me.” You speak and he doesn’t say anything. “You shut down every time I try to learn anything about you, and it fucking hurts.”

“That’s not true–”

“It is!” You exclaim, “It is, and you know it. You know everything about me. I don’t know about you, about your past, your friends. Don’t you think it’s weird that this is the first time you’ve mentioned your siblings?”

Dabi watches you as you speak but doesn’t say a word. He can’t. You’re right about all of it. He can’t tell you about his past, about what he’s done. He can’t risk losing you. He can’t risk letting you in.

“I want you. All of you.” You tell him. You wait, for what, you aren’t sure. Some kind of reaction, something that tells you that the past couple of months spent with him haven’t all been so that he can let you walk away. “I just wish you would have told me you don’t feel the same instead of letting me fall for you.”

He wants to tell you that he does feel the same. He probably feels more than you do. Dabi wants nothing more than to close the growing gap between you, to sink his teeth into taught flesh and make you his forever. 

But he can’t do that to you, and he never will. 

That’s why he tries to let you go, tries to watch you walk out the door without worrying about how late it is, how dark it is outside, how he’s already had to save you before.

And Dabi cannot live the rest of eternity knowing that he let you get yourself bitten by someone who isn’t him, that you could belong to someone else, dead or alive. 

So he runs, despite himself. He runs, realizing just how long he stood in his kitchen and contemplated your death, afraid he might be too late. You might already be lost. 

He’s relieved when he spots your figure, illuminated by nothing but moonlight and shivering in the cold. He startles you when he reaches you, enough that you trip over your feet and into the street in surprise, much to Dabi’s dismay. 

His grip is tight on your arm as he jerks you up, his face inches away from yours as he speaks, “What a fucking mess, falling over in the street. The hell do you think you’re doing? Huh?”

He’s trying to be quiet even though there’s most likely no one for miles, no one human anyway. Your eyes flicker between his hand on your arm and his angry gaze.

“Dabi, you’re scaring me.” Your voice is calm as you say it, like you're trying to calm an animal down, like if you’re too loud, he’ll rush forward and bite you like he’s always wanted. Like you’ve always wanted. 

“I’m scaring you? You’re lucky it was me who snuck up on you and not some blood-thirsty monster.” He bristles. He knows you’re scared. He can hear your heart beating out of your chest, a reminder that he no longer has one that works. 

“You are a blood-thirsty monster.” You spit. He doesn’t let it get to him because he knows why you said it. You know about all the nights he’s watched your chest rise and fall, why he presses his ear to your back when he holds you in bed, why his fingers brush over your neck and your wrists. He’s obsessed with your mortality. He envies you.

“Yeah, and look how well that turned out for you.” He retorts, finally letting go of your arm with a small nudge. He turns away from you, running a hand through his hair before fixing his stare on you once more, suddenly very serious. “You can’t just run off in the middle of the night.”

“Why the hell do you even care? You let me leave! You’re the one who watched me run off in the middle of the night!” His shoulders tense as he looks at you, everything he’s held in, all the things he wouldn’t allow himself to say to you, to do to you. It’s all been for nothing. He can’t let you slip away, no matter how much better off he knows you’d be without him. His hands come up to rest on your shoulders, fingers digging into your flesh, and his eyes never leave yours. 

“Are you an idiot? Of course, I care. And I do want you! You remind me of everything I can’t have and everything that was taken from me, but you’re worth it.” His hands shake where they lie on your shoulders, speaking like it pains him to keep it in because it does. He can’t get the words out fast enough. “I’m in love with you, and it hurts. But it hurts more not to have you.”

You stare at him, unsure of if you believe him. You want to believe him, part of you does, but you don’t think you can stand loving a man you barely know. He can see it, the doubt in your eyes, how badly you want to turn away and run, but he’s desperate. 

Dabi falls to his knees in front of you, earning a gasp from your lips that he ignores. He looks up with you, eyes pleading as he speaks, “I’ll beg. I will. I’ve never begged for anything before, and I’ve lived a lot, so you know I’m serious.”

Unsure how to react, you laugh nervously. If he’s not lying, if he really hasn’t begged for anything before, then you’ve brought a monster to his knees, and it makes you feel powerful. It makes you believe he loves you.

“I am. I love you. I want you. Please come home.” Because that’s what it is. Your home. With how much time you spend there, how much of his things have become yours, how much light up the place in more ways than one. It is your home. He begs for you with his hands attached to your thighs and his eyes wide with desperation. You set a hand on the top of his head and roll your eyes. 

Pulling him up to stand, you let your arms fall around his neck, pulling him close enough so that your noses touch. He kisses you and it doesn’t taste like blood. It just tastes like you, you and the fruit you ate for breakfast, the cigarette you snuck before class. You taste like everything he wants and everything he’s not allowed to have. You taste like living.

You pull away from him and whisper, “I love you too, Dabi.”

He pecks your lips once more, “It’s Touya.”

“What?”

“My name.” He tells you. “My real name.”

“Touya.” You say, trying it out. He likes the way your lips move around the word. “I love you, Touya.”

…

Touya kisses you like you might slip away. His lips move against yours hungrily. His hands grip your hips, your thighs, touching you everywhere as if he’s unable to leave a part of you not felt or marked by him. He slips his tongue into your mouth, tasting you like this instead of the way he desperately wishes to. 

Your hands move underneath his white tee shirt, your warm hands against the cold skin of his stomach. He shivers beneath you and you’re flat on your back in an instant, no longer resting on his couch in his lap, but against the floor, his hips pinning your own to the hardness beneath you. He moves from your lips to your neck, nipping and sucking, and returning to your lips to swallow your moans.

He groans when your fingers tangle into his hair, tugging and pulling at the strands the way you know drives him crazy. He groans into your neck, bucking his hips into yours. You gasp, throwing your head back against the floor, baring your neck to the man above you whose lips hover over your pulse point. 

Blood pumps underneath your skin, loud in his ears, and your heart beats in your chest. The feeling, the thrum of the beat, the rush of blood. He can feel it like it’s his, like he lives inside of you.

He could rip your neck open in seconds and drink from you for days before you were drained. He could kill you. You could cease to exist and be nothing but another body he has to bury. 

Or he could make you like him. 

“You can.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and you’re unsure if he even hears you, “If you want. You can bite me.”

You’ve imagined it a hundred times before, what it would be like. You’ve wondered how badly it would hurt, how much you could endure, if it would be worth it. You think it would be. For him, it would be. 

He pauses above you.

You’re giving him permission. You’re telling him he’s allowed, that you want him to. There’s a look in your eyes that almost tells him you need him to. 

A wave of disgust washes over him, furious with himself that he would ever consider turning you into this, into someone who can barely control themselves around the person they claim to love, the person they need to protect.

He’s off of you and across the room in record time, so fast you still have your neck exposed when you hear his voice from where he stands. 

“Don’t.” It’s the last thing he says before leaving you alone in the house. 

…

You don’t move from the couch, not once in the hours that you’re alone. Evening turns into night turns into morning. The faintest blue tint paints the room as morning creeps in. You realize, then, that Touya has to come home soon. The sun is rising. 

The door creaks open like he’s trying to be quiet. He shuts it behind him slowly, afraid to wake you if you’ve fallen asleep, but when he turns around, you’re there on the couch.

Tired eyes find his across the room and guilt eats at him knowing you’ve been up since he left. He doesn’t say a word but moves to sit down on the couch beside you.

“I love you.” You speak after a moment, but you don’t look at him.

“You shouldn’t.”

“But I do. And you love me too.”

“But I shouldn’t.”

“But you do.”

“I do. And that’s why I won’t bite you. I’ll never hurt you.” He can’t. No matter how badly he wants to keep you forever, he can’t turn you into what he is. 

“You’re hurting me now.”

“Why don’t you get it?” He snaps, standing up from the couch. “This is a curse. I’m a fucking monster, and I’m going to be one forever. I won’t do that to you. I can’t. I won’t curse you, too.”

“It’s not a curse to love you.” He looks at you then, your gaze still locked straight in front of you like you’re afraid of his reaction. You look down at your lap, playing with your fingers before you finally find the courage to look up at him. 

He thinks for a long moment. There are so many reasons he shouldn’t, the same reasons he tried and failed to stay away from you. But there’s one question, something that’s plagued him for all of his years as a vampire, something he’s too afraid to ask.

Can Touya really be loved forever?

He thinks the answer doesn’t matter. It’s enough to be loved by you.

He bites you.

It’s nothing like you’d imagined. It’s better. It’s heaven.

His teeth sink into your flesh and your blood fills his mouth, fangs sharp against your throat. He’s not fast enough as he drinks, trying to savor you. It spills out of the sides and down your neck. He’s never tasted anything like you before. 

It stings but you moan, letting your head fall back to give him more room to drink. It takes everything in him to force his lips away from your neck. He could have drained you. Maybe he would have if he didn’t love you, but he does, so he pulls away. Half-lidded eyes look into his, a faint smile crossing your face as you bring your hand to his cheek. You swipe your thumb through the blood on his bottom lip and grin. You’ve stained his lips. 

Touya wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. He brings a hand to the back of your head and guides you to his neck. You place a kiss against his skin before you bite down, drawing blood in the same way he did. He lets out a strangled moan and grips your hair in his hand. The taste of copper fills your mouth and you force yourself to drink. This is all you’ve ever wanted. 

He pulls you away from his neck and kisses you, the mixture of his blood and your blood a mess on your tongues. He pulls away and licks over the wound on your neck. It’s tender to the touch. You whimper as his tongue swipes over it again and again. You arch your back, holding back a moan as he sinks his teeth back into the open wound. 

His hands are rough as he grips your hips, no doubt leaving bruises behind, as he pulls you over his lap, never detaching from your neck as he does. You run your hands up his stomach, reaching his neck and pressing your fingers into his wound. He groans into you, pushing your hips down to grind down against him. 

He releases his teeth from your neck and captures your lips with his. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, tasting the blood that remains as he thumbs the bottom of your shirt. He pulls away only to pull it over your head. His lips find the wound on your neck once more. 

“I’ve never tasted anything like you before.” He speaks against your neck, licking a long strip up your neck, “You’re addicting.”

You pull him away from your neck, your fingers tangled in his hair as you pull, earning a groan from the man below you. You grind your hips down as you suck on the wound on his neck, curious if he feels the same things you do. The blood is sweeter on your tongue than you remember running your tongue over the wound and down his neck to taste the blood that’s dried against his chest. 

“C’mere.” He whispers, kissing you again. He flips you over gently, pushing you against the couch as he hovers over you, “C’mere, baby.”

He kisses from your neck to your shoulders, down the valley of your breasts and your stomach. He nips at your skin, leaving behind pricks of blood and pulling whimpers from your throat. It’s soft, even as he’s hurting you, even as he pierces your skin. He’s so gentle. 

His fingers find the band of your pants, pulling them off with your underwear in one go. He moves his body in between your legs, bloodied hands running up the outside of your thighs as he lowers himself to your sex. He doesn’t look away from you as bites the inside of your thighs, sucking bruises into the flesh and licking the blood from where he punctures the skin.

You tangle your fingers in his hair and let out a shaky breath, “Please.”

“Fuck.” Touya curses at the sound of desperation in your voice. He draws soothing circles in your inner thighs, smearing the blood around, as he looks up at you, “That’s it, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“W-want–” You speak breathily, “want your tongue.”

“Yeah? Want me to taste you?” He asks, bringing two fingers to your clit, moving them in a slow circle. It’s agonizing. You try to move your hips, but Touya holds you down with one arm thrown over your lower stomach. “Patient, baby. I want you to feel good.”

He buries his head between your thighs, swiping his tongue along your entrance. The feeling of his tongue on your clit has you throwing your head back and arching your back, finally giving you some kind of release. A strangled whine escapes your throat, and it only makes Touya work harder. 

You’re a mess of slick and blood, pure heaven on his tongue. He brings two fingers to your entrance, pushing in slowly as he sucks on your clit. He moves them in and out of you, running his tongue agonizingly slow over your swollen bud. 

“Touya!” You moan, trying to move your hips and failing from the grip he has on you. “I’m close.”

“I know, baby, I know. Wanna come for me?” He teases, moving his fingers in and out of you in slow strokes, barely reaching your sweet spot. He pulls his fingers from you and swipes his tongue along your cunt, licking up your juices like he can’t get enough. 

“Gonna cum! Gonna cum, Touya!” You cry, pulling at the inky strands of his hair, now slightly wet with blood from your fingers. “Make me cum!”

His fingers slip back inside of you, moving his mount over you and sucking your clit between his lips. He moves his mouth back and forth, moving his lips and tongue against you as he curls his fingers inside of you. You cum with a loud cry of his name, finally grinding your hips against his face now that he’s no longer holding you down. Touya moans against your cunt, feeling how you twitch at his tongue still moving against you. 

When he pulls away, he licks at the blood from the small punctures in your thighs, creating more as he rises from between them. He stands quickly, slipping out of his now stained white tee shirt and dark jeans before hovering over you again. 

“How do you feel?” He asks you, kissing down your neck, drinking from you like he’s always wanted. 

“Not cursed.” You reply, moving your hips against his as he sucks on your neck. You want more of him, more blood, more flesh. It’s your turn. 

When he pulls away, you pull him down by the back of his neck, sinking your newly sharp teeth into the other side of his neck, the one without the wound you gave him before. He sinks into you as you bite, crying out your name as he begins to move his hips. You drink from him and it’s brand new. 

He kisses you when you release his neck, his hips moving rapidly against yours. He groans into your mouth, the blood moving between your lips, over your tongues, spilling from your mouths and down your necks. You’re both a complete mess of blood and sweat and spit.

Touya’s hands move from your hips up the length of your body. He fucks into you slowly, moving his hands up to lace his fingers with yours, bringing your arms up above your head. He leans down, sucking more marks into your neck and down your chest. You cry out and grind your hips against his, chasing your release as pain bubbles over your skin in the places he’s marked. 

“Please.” You beg as he fucks you deep and slow, “M-more. Want to feel you.”

“Can’t you feel me, angel?” He questions, placing a hand against your lower stomach. He doesn’t speed his movements up at all, forcing you to endure the slow thrusts against your insides. 

“You’re teasing.” You breathe, wriggling in his hold, but he keeps your arms pinned above you. “Playing with your food.”

“I’m savoring you.” He chuckles, leaning down to lick your neck.

“I need you to fuck me.” You plead, trying to grind your hips again. Touya grins above you, kissing you deeply before speeding up his thrusts. You gasp against his lips, and he licks into your mouth, tasting his blood on your tongue. 

His hips slam into yours, squeezing your hands as he looks into your eyes. You’re beautiful. You’re a monster now, and you’re beautiful. You’re his.

He continues to move in and out of you, his length twitching inside of you as he gets closer and closer to the edge. He continues to drill into you, leaning forward to drink from you once more before he cums. You cry out at the feeling of his teeth in your neck, addicted to the feeling of being eaten, consumed. 

“Kiss me.” You pant, feeling the coil tighten within you. “Please, Touya, kiss me.”

He pulls away, blood spilling from his lips as he kisses you. He forces you to drink with his lips against yours. The two of you cum together as you share your blood. His hips begin to slow, riding out both of your orgasms as you swirl your tongue against his. He pulls away, letting go of one of your hands to push your hair from your face. 

“You’re mine.” He speaks, rough and possessive. “Forever.”