#soft touya todoroki

[cascadedkiwi]

Nighttime Tears [Comfortember 2023]

Characters: Touya Todoroki x Black Female OC (Machelle) and their blasian babies Manga/Anime: Boku No Hero Academia/My Hero Academia Genre: Comfort Summary: Touya and his son have different reasons to cry tonight. His wife and daughter are always ready to comfort them. Word Count: 1,104

Prompt 22. Cry

A pressure on his arm woke Touya up, freeing the tears that had gathered on his lashes. He turned to his side, reaching and grabbing on to the warm body next to him.

Machelle's voice was soft in his ear, soothing over his hitching breaths as he tried to calm himself down. “You're ok now, Touya. You're safe.”

He nodded, burying his face in her neck. He held her tighter in an attempt to quell his shaking. He couldn't tell if it was working but the last thing he was willing to do was to let her go, even as she gave a grunt of protest.

“I'm right here, Panda Bear.” She ran a hand through his hair, smiling when he startled at the nickname. When he looked up at her, she kissed his forehead, doubling down. “My Panda Bear.”

He just watched her, breathing deeply. It didn't matter if he was processing the emotions from the dream or the new sobriquet. The trembling faded away. 

She said nothing more, pressing her lips to his snowy locks when he ducked his head back into her collar. She hummed, rubbing circles into his scalp with her finger pads. There was so much that haunted her husband. He had told her so much but she doubted she would ever know everything. Perhaps the light of his being was so bright because he had come from some serious darkness.  She marveled at the man in her arms yet again, praying in her heart that he would be granted full peace one day, and further that she could continue to be the one by his side supporting him through it all. 

Touya released a harsh breath, warm against her skin. 

“You want some water?” She asked in a lower voice, carding her fingers through his hair.

He gave an affirmative hum, sliding down to hold her waist which freed her arm to fetch his water bottle from the nightstand. 

She flicked the straw up before holding it up for him. “Sit up a little, Hun.”

He did bare minimum, refusing to detach from her completely as he sipped. His face quickly pressed into her stomach again.

She could feel the tears soak through her nightdress. She rested her hand on the back of his head, gently flexing her fingers. Her heart pained, but she was happy as well. Of course, she didn't want her husband to hurt but his willingness to cry into her like this was something they had worked on for many years. His tears had been something he fought like a war enemy, even in private. For him to finally and continually accept that it was ok to cry, and to do so in her presence… was a breakthrough. “I love you,” she whispered to him in her language and his, keeping him close with light pressure he made to pull away.

He gripped the fabric tighter. 

When he started to speak, she hummed to encourage him, listening intently and responding from her heart. When he laughed lightly, her heart twirled, and when he nuzzled her playfully, she peppered him with kisses. 

They both looked up at the sound of appliances across the house shutting down. 

Machelle tsked. “The slightest piece of weather and they cut the current off.”

Wind blew rain against their windows as if to prove a point.

Beyond the rainstorm came the cry of their youngest from down the hall.

Touya shifted to lay in her lap as Machelle sat up. “Poor Champ.”

Machelle looked down at him. “Can I go check on him?”

“Give it time, ‘Chelle. Please.”

She blinked at him. “Touya.”

“Trust your ‘Panda Bear,’ as I've been so newly dubbed. If he doesn't calm on his own in a few minutes, we'll both go.” He grinned at her. “I know, Mama Bear. Longest four minutes of your life.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling into her navel.

The baby quieted in two minutes. 

Touya kept his knowing look pressed into her stomach. He waited the remaining two minutes before speaking up. “We're still going, aren't we?”

“Just to make sure. And to peek on Maya.”

Their daughter slept even lighter than her father, but was quick to comfort herself back to sleep. Touya kept his thoughts in his head.

The two crept out of bed, using the moonlight until they got to the bedroom where Touya flicked finger for a little candle. The small blue light took them down the hall until Touya suddenly snuffed it out. 

A wavering light was coming from Champion’s room, illuminating the space just beyond the doorway.

The parents tucked themselves just outside the lit area, peeking inside the room. 

“It's ok, Champy,” came Maya's little voice. “It's not dark with my fire, see? But you hafta stay over there.”

Maya sat in the middle of the floor with her back angled to the door, cupping a small blue flame in her palms. She was situated a good distance from the rocking chair she usually parked in - or anything else for that matter, hyper aware of her hands.

Baby Champion was in his crib, tear-stained cheeks pressed against the cage-like railing. He was reaching between the wooden bars towards the light, tiny fingers curling repeatedly. 

Machelle smiled, leaning back into Touya’s embrace. She knew Maya would set the house on fire running to keep her flames from her little brother - turning it off wasn't a default thought as yet. They would get there. 

Champion’s breath hitched and Touya held her back with a gentle strengthening of his grip. Champion let out a sad whine, hitting the crib railing.

Maya spoke up, glancing at him before quickly refocusing on managing her fire. “Nuh uh, you can't have the two. Either I make light or we hold hands. I can't do the two at the same time.”

Champion whined again and Maya turned to hide the fire from him. He garbled out what they understood as her name in a frustrated tone.

“Ok, then.” The little girl huffed, turning back around.

The baby plopped down on his bottom, sucking on his finger and thumb while watching his sister's blue flame.

Touya's chest jumped with a quiet laugh Machelle felt against her back. He spoke under his breath. “She handles him better than you sometimes.”

“Big sister prowess,” she whispered back. “Comes with the position.”

The chance of the power coming back on within the hour was low. The temptation to join the children in the baby room was strong. They would give it a few more minutes, committing the scene to memory.

[shinig6mis]

transferring to a new university was nerve-wracking. but finding out on day one that there was no dorm room for you? even worse.

apparently, some glitch in the system left your name off the dormitory list. and now, there wasn’t a single open spot on campus. you wanted to cry, but calling your parents and worrying them was the last thing you wanted to do.

so you spent the entire evening scouring for solutions. a faculty member pointed you to a site where students looking for roommates could post listings, and by some miracle, you found one that seemed decent. the description was short but to the point:

walking distance from campus. only one room available. don’t be loud.

it wasn’t exactly the warmest ad, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. you sent a text, got a short reply, and now here you were.

standing outside the apartment door, your arms ached from carrying a heavy box of books and sentimental junk while your suitcase full of clothes sat by your feet. you hesitated for a second before knocking. the moment the door opened, you almost regretted your entire life.

a tall guy with white hair, scarred skin, and heavy-lidded, almost dead-looking eyes stared back at you. his presence was so intimidating that your first instinct was to turn and run back down the hall. but you froze instead, staring up at him like a deer caught in headlights.

“is touya here?” you managed to squeak out, trying your best not to sound completely terrified.

he raised an eyebrow. “speaking. who the hell are you?” his voice was deep and rough, his tone sharp enough to cut.

“i-i’m y/n. your... roommate? i applied here two days ago, we spoke over t—”

“oh. right.” he cut you off, scratching the back of his neck. “didn’t think you’d be here so damn early.”

if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was complaining. but then again, it was 7 a.m. if anything, you must’ve woken him up.

“ya need help with all that?” he asked, gesturing toward the box in your arms.

“uh, yes... please,” you said, relieved and surprised he even offered.

he grabbed the box with one hand like it weighed nothing, and you followed him inside, dragging your suitcase behind you. he set the box on the dining table and kicked the door shut behind him. the place was neat. not spotless, but cleaner than you expected. the furniture was simple, dark-colored, and kind of mismatched, giving the place a weirdly manly vibe.

“bathroom’s down the hall,” touya said lazily, pointing. “kitchen’s over there. don’t leave your shit everywhere. and that’s your room.”

he gestured toward a door at the end of the hall, and you followed him inside. the room was small but tidy. the bed was bare, just a mattress and a pillow, but it was clean. there was a desk and a small closet, too. it doesn’t look like anyone’s ever stayed there.

“anyway,” he muttered, turning to leave. “don’t make too much noise. i don’t like loud people.”

six months later, you’ve realized that living with touya had been an adjustment. at first, there were awkward “hi” and “bye” exchanges, brief encounters in the kitchen as you grabbed a granola bar or nuked leftovers in the microwave. he wasn’t much of a talker, which was fine because you weren’t either. not to him anyway.

but then, slowly, things started to change.

it began with shared dinners. a random night where you’d made too much pasta, shyly offering him some because it felt wrong to eat in front of him while he sat on the couch scrolling through his phone. he’d taken the plate with a gruff “thanks,” but the next night, there was an extra bowl of ramen waiting for you when you got home from class.

from there, it spiraled into routine. dinners became a shared activity, a small tradition where you’d sit across from each other, trading sarcastic comments and the occasional genuine laugh. somewhere in between, touya went from your intimidating, scar-faced roommate to your closest friend. you told him everything now—your classes, your crushes, your petty grievances. he listened, mostly. sometimes, he’d even chime in with advice, though his tone always bordered on teasing.

so when you burst through the door that night, cheeks flushed with excitement, it felt natural to dump the day’s events onto him. touya was already on the couch, two bowls of noodles on the coffee table. his lips quirked into a small smile as he watched you kick off your shoes and drop your bag haphazardly by the door.

“guess what?” you beamed, practically bouncing onto the couch beside him, knees brushing his thigh. “some guy asked me out today!”

his smile faltered, but you didn’t notice. you were too caught up in recounting the story, your voice light and animated as you detailed every little moment.

touya’s grip on his chopsticks tightened. he forced a small chuckle, though it sounded strained.

“can’t believe this actually happened!”

“yeah, well… it’s about time,” he muttered.

but you didn’t hear the sarcasm laced in his words. you were too wrapped up in your own excitement, oblivious to the way his jaw clenched or how his gaze lingered a second too long on your face.

he should’ve been happy for you. he told himself he was. roommates didn’t catch feelings, not ones like this. and yet, every time you smiled at him like that, so sweet and innocent, he felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs.

the days blurred after that. you went on your first date, then your second, then your third. touya tried to convince himself it was fine. this was fine. he was just your roommate. but you started coming home later and later, your absence stretching into the kind of silence that made his skin crawl.

the noodles he made for you—carefully cooked just the way you liked them—sat untouched on the counter, growing cold as the hours ticked by. he’d find himself sitting on the couch, staring at the door, half-hoping and half-dreading the moment you’d walk in, cheeks flushed with the afterglow of another date.

he hated it.

he hated him. the guy you wouldn’t shut up about, the one who’d taken up too much of your time, your attention. it should be him you’re coming straight home to after school.

touya couldn’t stand it anymore.

he barely needed to put in the effort. you were so trusting, so sweet, and all that innocent yapping gave him everything he needed. your schedule, your habits, even the places you liked to study or hang out. all it took was one stop after his own classes ended to track him down: the library.

the guy was just sitting there, headphones in, engrossed in his laptop.

by the time touya was done talking to him, the guy was pale and nodding, muttering weak promises to do as he was told. touya left the library without a backward glance, his mind already on you.

he got home with enough time to spare, pulling out the instant noodles he knew you loved, the ice cream he bought on the way back. he even set the table, everything arranged just the way you liked it. he’d planned it all perfectly, down to the minute.

and then the door creaked open, and there you were.

he already expected it but it still hurt nonetheless when he saw you—eyes red and swollen, your lips trembling as you tried to hold yourself together. the faintest sniffle escaped, your hands clutching the strap of your bag like it was the only thing anchoring you.

“he broke up with me,” you choked out, voice cracking.

and he almost regret what he’s done. almost.

you didn’t have to say more. he crossed the room in an instant, pulling you into his chest. his hoodie smelled like laundry detergent and faintly of cigarettes, and you buried your face into the fabric, tears soaking through.

“it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing as his hand rubbed slow circles on your back. “he’s an idiot. didn’t deserve you anyway.”

his lips brushed the crown of your head, a gesture so soft, so tender, it made your heart ache in a different way.

you melted into him, his arms the safest place you’d ever known. and as he whispered quiet reassurances, a small, satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

this was how it should be. you, in his arms, leaning on him, trusting him. he’d make sure it stayed that way. you were his, even if you didn’t realize it yet.

© 2025 shinig6mis | do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my work.

[moodyvoid]

Touya, in the hospital with his family.

Rei: “Do you want to tell us about your time with the league?”

Fuyumi: “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Natsuo: “It was a part of his journey. Maybe he has something to say about it.”

Touya: “There really isn’t much to say. Shigaraki got me to where I needed to be, Spinner and Toga annoyed me most of the time, Mr. Compress was tolerable, and Twice…”

Touya, thinking about Twice, then thinking about all his memories with the league.

Touya: “… I wasn’t there to make friends.”

Shouto, staring at Touya silently remembering when he also “wasn’t there to make friends”.

[treef-greef]

I wanna dance with somebody

[flamingtouya]

thank you bones!! you did good this week <3

[hokusu]

If it was so simple a thing, then why? Why not sooner?

[harleys1nhawaii]

IGNITE THE HEAT [dabi / todoroki touya x f!reader]

thinking about dabi riling you up and giving you all of him for hours, just to stop and grin at you from above seconds before you can release that knot in your stomach. your cheeks are burning from tears and your aching cunt is clenching around nothing, laying in the wet patch trembling and desperate. his hands grabbing your waist and hips down, grounding you into the soaked matress as his mouth stretches into a grin so wide, the metal staples start leaking blood.

“f-fuck, dabi!” you whimper as your cheeks stain with more of the salty liquid. your voice is strained and too weak, your throat is dry from all the restless vocal show you gave him. “why? why are y’ doing this?” it only fuels his desire. feeling a rush of primal satisfaction, knowing that he was the cause of your pleasure and pain, the reason for your weakened state.

“shh, doll.” he presses his lips against your neck, his voice a low rumble. his tongue darting out to flick against the shell of your ear. “you’re doin’ so well f’ me. so fucking good, doll, letting me break you like this.”

dabi’s touch is gentle, his fingers wiping the tears from your cheeks with a tenderness that seemed almost uncharacteristic of him. “don’t cry now, doll. just a little longer, i promise. you can hold on a little more f’ me, can’t you?” you can’t help but nod in silence, eyes pleading at him through wet lashes and heavy lids.

“that’s a good girl.” he murmurs, voice low and possessive. your hands grip onto the sheets again as your voice breaks, feeling him deep inside your sensitive walls.

despite his soft, comforting words, there was a hint of mischief in his eyes, a sly smirk playing at the corners of his lips. you couldn’t catch it when your body ached with need, your mind a haze of desire and frustration. it was as if he knew something you didn't, as if he was planning to keep playing with you, even after he promised to give you the release you so desperately craved.

the night went on, his hands continued to explore your body, touching, caressing, teasing. but instead of bringing you closer to the edge of release, he kept you balanced on that precarious precipice, never pushing you over the edge. he smugly whispered his “just a little longer”’s, kept telling you how good you were being, how patient you were, how much he loved the sound you made when you were on the edge of release, to never give you the relief of it for another couple of hours.

[kitkat13001]

⋆˚꩜｡. let me sleep, i am tired of my grief . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ and i would like you to love me, . ݁˖ to love me, to love me

there’s a moment, however fleeting, when dabi (the monster) becomes touya todoroki (the man). it happens every so often on long, quiet nights — usually when he steps foot at your door.

he leaves the name, the image, the burning hatred and everything that comes with it, at the door next to his muddy, tattered boots.

it’s a special kind of privilege, to hear his name on your lips like that. a little torturous really, if he thinks on it too long. a little comfort too, knowing that you speak it with love and not the haunting of a ghost long past.

he doesn’t know what string of fate led him here to you. he thinks he’d drive himself mad (moreso, anyway) trying to figure it out, so he doesn’t.

he just lays here, with your head on his lap, staring up at the ceiling while his fingers thread through your hair, careful not to let the staples get tangled in it.

he talks quietly, about god knows what. too many nights he’s spent, yelling and screaming and charring anything in his path. and you were always there in the aftermath, though he can see in your eyes that you wouldn’t have cared if he had burned you too. pick him up, clean the blood from his scars, haul him to bed before collapsing beside him. 

it’s not easy work to take care of someone. he knows this from all the effort you make to take care of him. 

it’s the least he can do on these nights, to let you lay on him as he whispers sweet nothings into the black void of night — things he’d only ever say for you. you ask for nothing, but want for everything. he knows this.

the monster is never truly gone. it’s a part of him, intertwined and woven into his being. without dabi, there is no touya. without touya, there would be no dabi. but the monster sleeps with you in his arms, a deep longing inside to protect you. to care for you in a way he’s never cared for anyone else.

it’s easy to think of dabi as selfish. his one-track-mind, his all-consuming desire for revenge and hard-pressed tendency to burn anything that stands in his way. but that need, that desire to protect the few things he cares about runs deeper than anyone will ever know.

you get a glimpse of him, of touya, when he allows a small smile in the protection of the darkness of your bedroom. barely visible, unannounced, but there. you smile back, hoping he might see it in the darkness, and burrow further into his hold.

it’s late, and sleep is beginning to overtake you again. you fight to keep your eyes open, wanting to cherish this moment just a little longer. his fingers in your hair, the warmth of his skin against yours, the solid feel of his body beside you. it’s what you miss when he inevitably has to leave, and what you crave when he comes crawling back to your doorstep much later.

he sees the droop of your eyelids and huffs out the ghost of a chuckle. his thumb leaves your cheek to brush lightly over your eyelids, astounded by the softness of your lashes as they flutter against his fingertip and the tiny, breathy giggle you give from the contact.

“stop,” you whisper, though he can tell by the radiance of your smile that you don’t actually want him to stop.

“go to sleep,” he replies, heart squeezing almost painfully as he stares down at you in wonder.

“i don’t want to,” you murmur, keening into his touch. “you’ll be gone when i wake up.”

he speaks with his lips on your forehead, cradling your head to his chest like you’re a baby or a precious, fragile jewel. “i won’t. promise. i’ve got time today.”

“just for me?” you tease, and laugh softly when he muffles your speech by pressing you further into him.

“yeah, yeah, don’t be a brat about it. just go to sleep, yeah? see me sooner.”

you wriggle free enough to look at him. your eyes are big and sincere when you reply, “i’ll see you ‘n my dreams, too. always do.”

he scoffs like that’s not one of the most deeply heartfelt things he’s ever heard in his life (and that’s an incredibly short list). he doesn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything really. he just pulls you back in and lays awake until you’re snoring. then, and only then, does he close his eyes.

he doesn’t dream much anymore. when he does, it’s usually a blazing inferno or flashes of other horrible memories. when it’s not that, though, he dreams of you.

₊ ⊹ . dividers by @/bernardsbendystraws

[yerrrrrrrl]

touya attempting to play Mario kart whilst keigo just laughs at him (he's just as bad)

[rissouu]

I lovvved the she's busy smau prank!! Can you do random Dabi texts and maybe Hawks?? They can be anything :))

Thanks if you do! ^^

random texts with dabi!

warnings: suggestive, mentions of sexual content, mentions of smoking, and etc!

author’s note: hi bby, im glad you enjoyed it! sorry it took so dang long, but here’s your request love :) i really need to stop with these text au’s but im already in too deep.. 💔 im obsessed

©rissouu 2024 (don’t steal my shit, if it’s inspo make sure you give credit!)

masterlist

[katsdynam1ght]

is it time to tell you guys abt my dabihawks kids yet. is it time. can it be time.

[cascadedkiwi]

"I love you, Daddy" [Comfortember 2023]

Characters: Touya Todoroki x Black Female OC (Machelle) and their blasian babies (Maya and Champion) Manga/Anime: Boku No Hero Academia/My Hero Academia Genre: Comfort (more fluff, I feel) Summary: Touya's kids tell him they love him. He's still not used to it. Word Count: 359

Prompt: Loved Ones

Touya and Machelle were sitting in bed watching TV, both sitting up against the headboard, legs under the blankets. He looked up at a knock on their open door. In peaked their youngest, bright blue eyes under a full head of bouncing white curls.

“What's up, Champ?”

The little one lingered in the doorway for a moment before clambering up onto their bed, crawling in between the two. He braced on their thighs, leaning up and kissing his dad on his scarred cheek. “I love you,” he said plainly before turning to his mom and kissing her cheek. “And I love you.” 

Champion was climbing and off the bed before Machelle could get out her coo. 

“We love you, too, baby!” She called as he left.

The two parents looked at each other for a moment, Machelle's grin growing wider as she poked her husband's cheek above the stitches.

“You're blushing~” she sang teasingly.

Touya refused to look in her direction. “He's too young to be acting cute to get something… right?”

“Some humans do just express affection for affection’s sake, you know.” Machelle leaned onto his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his. 

They turned their attention back to the TV, although neither was really hearing what was going on anymore.

It was maybe half an hour later. Their daughter didn't even knock, only giving the courtesy of waiting until a commercial break. She walked around to her father's side of the bed first, gracing his other cheek with a kiss. “I love you, Daddy.” She sprinted around to her mother's side, where the woman leaned over for her cheek kiss. Maya gave her a loud one. “Mwah! I love you, Mama.”

“I love you, too, Maya. And Daddy does as well.”

Maya shrugged, glancing at her still-processing father. “I know. He just isn't good at responding if he doesn't say it first. Bye!” She slipped out the door with a wave.

Touya had his fingers on his cheeks, brushing over the ghost of his children's kisses. “They're planning something.”

Machelle gave him a look, taking a mental picture. “They love you.”

“That doesn't mean they're not planning something

[cei1ne]

can you do a short fic of a surprise gift from dabi pleaseeeeeeeeee

—Toya Todoroki - ‘Blue flame, warm heart’

⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅Summary: Your boyfriend who was known to be nonchalant and cold finally proved that he wasn’t just a heartless bastard villain!

✩.･*:Pairing: Toya Todoroki ; GN!reader

｡..✭｡Tags: Cute ; Soft ; Loving ; Unexpected; Teasing ; Tsundere ; TRUE LOVE

:ﾟ･*☽Word-Count: Idk about 2k

ღೋA/N: Yeah so we know Toya isn’t very soft but for you he is so yeah… xx

✼•┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑ ┈•✼

—Toya Todoroki - ‘Blue flame, warm heart’

You weren’t expecting him tonight.

Not that you ever expected Dabi. He wasn’t the kind of person who let anyone predict him. His comings and goings were like ash on the wind — here for a moment, then gone with no explanation, no goodbye, just a lingering smell of smoke and scorched air in your apartment.

And yet… there he was. Standing by your front door like he belonged there, hood pulled over that mess of blackened staples and hair tousled from the wind.

He didn’t knock. He never did. You only knew he was there because the hallway light flickered, then went dark.

“Hey,” he said gruffly, like he hadn’t disappeared for three weeks straight.

You didn’t ask where he’d been. You never did.

“Hey,” you answered instead, stepping aside to let him in.

Dabi brushed past you without a word, that familiar dry heat trailing behind him. He kicked off his boots lazily and shrugged off his jacket, tossing it over the back of your couch. Same as always — like he lived here, like this place was his just as much as yours.

But tonight, something was different.

You could feel it in the way he didn’t immediately flop onto the couch or light a cigarette. He stood awkwardly near the entrance, one hand in his pocket, the other clenched around… something.

You noticed the faint crinkle of wrapping paper.

Your brows lifted. “You… brought something?”

He didn’t meet your gaze. “Don’t make it weird.”

“I haven’t said anything yet.”

“You’re thinking something.”

“I’m breathing.”

Dabi let out a short scoff, but you caught the flicker of unease in his expression. His hand tightened around the little wrapped box — blue paper, slightly wrinkled, corners taped like someone who’d never done it before had struggled through every fold.

He shoved it toward you, not quite looking at you.

“Take it.”

You blinked. “What is it?”

“Just take the damn thing, [Y/N].” His tone was sharp, but there was no real heat behind it. If anything, he sounded… embarrassed.

You gently took the box from his hand. It was light. The paper was warm — probably from him holding it for too long, probably debating whether to actually give it to you.

“Did you… wrap this yourself?”

Dabi grunted. “No. Some twelve-year-old villain intern did it for me. What do you think?”

You laughed, but it was gentle. “I think it’s sweet.”

“Shut up.”

You smiled and unwrapped it carefully, trying not to tear the paper. Dabi watched you with barely veiled tension, like this was a mission more dangerous than any raid he’d ever been on.

Inside was a small black box. Jewelry-sized.

Your breath caught.

“…Can I open it?”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s for you, dumbass. Obviously.”

You opened the lid slowly.

Inside was a delicate silver chain with a small blue flame charm at the center — translucent enamel, impossibly detailed. It shimmered under the apartment light like it had a heartbeat of its own.

You stared at it, then up at him. “Dabi…”

“Don’t get all mushy on me.”

“I’m not. I’m just…” You swallowed. “It’s beautiful. Why?”

His shoulders stiffened. His eyes darted toward the window.

“Saw it in a shop. Reminded me of you. That’s it.”

You gently ran your fingers over the flame charm. “Because I burn things to the ground, or because I’m pretty?”

That finally earned you a grin — lopsided, sharp.

“Both.”

You stood there a moment longer, just holding the necklace between your fingers, unsure what to say next. It wasn’t the kind of gift you expected from someone like Dabi — hell, it wasn’t the kind of gesture you expected from him at all. He was rough around the edges, emotionally evasive, and allergic to anything resembling vulnerability.

And yet… this.

You looked up at him again. “Will you help me put it on?”

His eyes widened just slightly, like you’d caught him off guard. “Uh… yeah. Sure.”

You turned around and held your hair up, heart thumping when you felt his hands brush against the back of your neck. His fingers were rough, heat radiating from his skin like the embers of a dying fire, but he was gentle — almost too careful, like he was scared he might break you.

The clasp clicked into place. His fingers lingered for a second too long.

“Looks good on you,” he muttered.

You turned back to face him, searching his expression.

“You’ve never given me anything like this before.”

Dabi scoffed and flopped onto the couch, eyes already trained on the ceiling. “Yeah, well. Don’t expect it to be a habit. I’m not exactly Mr. Thoughtful.”

“No,” you said, moving to sit beside him, “but you are surprisingly soft when no one’s looking.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Careful.”

You smiled, leaning against his shoulder. “Or what? You’ll set me on fire?”

“Maybe.”

You could feel the tension in his body even now — like he was still unsure whether giving you that gift had been a mistake. His armor was cracking, but he didn’t know what to do with the vulnerability slipping through the cracks.

You stayed quiet for a bit, letting the silence stretch between you. It wasn’t uncomfortable — not with Dabi. It never had to be filled. He was the kind of person who spoke most in what he didn’t say.

Eventually, you nudged his arm. “You okay?”

He gave you a side-eye. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re fidgety.”

“I don’t fidget.”

“You’ve peeled the label off your lighter three times in five minutes.”

Dabi looked down at his hand. The plastic casing was indeed a little torn up.

“…I just don’t do this kind of stuff,” he said quietly. “You know that.”

“I know. That’s why it means something.”

He turned his face toward the window, where the moonlight cast a soft blue hue across the room. The flickering light danced across his scars, highlighting the parts of him he hated most.

You reached over and rested your hand on his knee. “You don’t have to be anything for me. You just have to be here.”

Dabi let out a breath — long, slow, like it was dragging something heavy from his chest.

“You think I don’t want to be better for you?” he said, voice low.

“I think you already are.”

His jaw clenched. “You’re wrong.”

You stayed quiet, fingers gently tracing circles against his leg.

After a long pause, he asked, “You really liked it?”

You tilted your head to meet his eyes. “Dabi, I love it. I love you, even if you never gave me anything ever again.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he reached out suddenly, hand cupping the side of your face with a warmth that startled you. His thumb brushed along your cheek.

“You know I’d burn the whole world for you, right?”

You smiled faintly. “I’d rather you didn’t. But the thought counts.”

He huffed a small laugh. “Shut up.”

You leaned into his touch. “Make me.”

He smirked — a flicker of mischief behind that tired gaze — and pressed a kiss to your forehead. His lips were dry, but the contact was soft..

“Next time,” he said, voice barely above a whisper, “I’ll get you something even better.”

“Dabi,” you said softly, “you don’t have to keep proving anything.”

He leaned back, one arm draping lazily across your shoulders. “I’m not trying to prove anything. I just… I dunno. Wanted to see you smile.”

“You’re dangerously close to being sweet.”

“Say that again and I’ll vanish for another month.”

You chuckled and rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart — fast, but calming. The necklace around your neck felt warm now, like it had absorbed the heat from his hands.

You liked that.

You liked him.

Even if he didn’t always know how to show it.

[cybersvoid]

❥ Big Brother Touya v [Nightmare]

──⇌••⇋──

♡ Pairings: BigBrother!Touya x Reader [Platonic]

Request: I love soft yandere big bro Touya with my entire being- the way you write him is so so good!!! Can I pretty please have some soft yandere big bro Dabi🙏❤? And if you could make it comfort that would be extra lovely ❤❤ [Anon]

Parts : i | ii | iii | iv

ღ Warning | Please do not repost my work anywhere. If you see anyone reposting or copying my work please let me know. Thank you!

──⇌••⇋──

It was late at night, and the soft hum of the house filled the silence. You tossed and turned in your bed, your eyes squeezed shut, trying to escape the terrifying dream that has its grip on you. No matter how fast you tried to run the shadows kept chasing you, dark and cold, creeping closer and closer. You weren't able to put any space between the two of you. Every time you tried to scream, no sound came out, and you started becoming hyper-aware of the sound of your own heart. The creature finally caught up to you, reaching out a dark long hand, just about to grasp you by your shirt when you were ripped from your nightmare.

You awoke with a violent gasp, your heart continuing to beat fiercely in your chest as if you were still being chased. Even though the nightmare was over, fear still crowded your every thought. You threw your blanket over your head, hoping it would shield you from whatever invisible force still felt so close, but it was useless. The howling wind outside only made the room feel colder, amplifying your unease.

You couldn’t stay in this room any longer. Panic welled up in your chest, and without thinking, you scrambled out of bed, your feet taking you toward the door. You knew you couldn’t go to your mom’s room—not wanting to wake up your dad—but you needed someone. You need Touya. Your feet moved almost instinctively toward his room. Each step that took you further from your room and closer to his, made you feel one step safer than before.

The second you were outside his room, you gently raised your fist, softly tapping it against the door. You waited a bit, but there was no answer. As quietly as you could, you twisted the door knob and let yourself in.

“Touya?” you called out in a hushed tone.

At the sound of your voice, Touya immediately shot out of bed, as if he could hear the fear that laced your words. His feet hit the floor with a soft thud before he rushed toward you, his hands immediately finding your shoulders.

“Y/N? What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

You shook your head quickly, trying to find your words, but your breath was still ragged. “It’s not that… I had a bad dream,” you finally managed to whisper, a tear slipping down your cheek.

With your new confession, Touya let out a sigh of relief that you weren't in any immediate danger. But hearing your trembling voice and seeing your eyes filled with fear, he could tell that this nightmare had really shaken you.

“Come here,” he murmured gently, pulling you into his arms. With ease, he guided you over to his bed, your small body still trembling in his grasp. “Don’t worry, Y/N. You’re safe here. I’m not going to let anything hurt you.”

He laid you down beside him, wrapping both of you in the warmth of his blanket. You curled up against him, your body still shivering from the remnants of the nightmare. He could feel the tremors in your small frame, and it broke his heart. He hates when there are things he can’t protect you from. There was no monster he could fight, no villain he could defeat to make this go away.

Hell, he’d burn everything to ash and dust if it meant keeping you safe, but keeping you safe from your dreams was a lot harder to accomplish. All he could do was try to comfort you, but it made him feel so useless.

“Y/N…” Touya’s voice softened as he gently pulled back to look at your face, his fingers brushing the stray tears from your cheek. “Do you want to talk about the dream?”

You shook your head, your small hands clutching his shirt. “No… It was just so scary. I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

Touya nodded in understanding. He didn’t need to know the details to know you needed him. With his hand still gently stroking your back, his voice became a soothing murmur in the quiet of the room.

“You’re safe now, okay? The nightmare is over, and you’re with me,” he said, his voice low and comforting. “No more bad dreams. I’ve got you.”

The weight of your fear began to lift with his gentle voice. “Can I stay here for the night?” you sniffled, voice small but full of trust.

Touya gave you a reassuring smile, “You can stay here forever, Y/N.”

“Forever?” You giggled softly, the idea so silly, yet comforting at the same time. You weren’t entirely awake, but the thought of always being able to stay with him brought a smile to your face.

“Why so surprised?” He questioned with a raised eyebrow, “Don't you wanna stay with your big brother forever?”

You couldn’t help but laugh again. “I can’t do that silly! I’m gonna start kindergarten soon. And then middle school. And Dad…” you let out a small yawn before continuing, “he says I’m going to be a hero when my quirk develops.”

Touya’s chest tightened at the thought of you following the same path he had—hero training, the pressure, the dangerous world outside. He would never let you go through it. No matter what. Even if it meant taking you far away from everything—far away from the nightmares that could hurt you in real life. You’ll be safe. He’ll make sure of it.

“Shh,” he hushed, his voice soft and determined, “You shouldn’t worry about that. Plus, you don’t need a quirk when your big brother is here. I’ll always protect you Y/N.”

The last bit came out more as a whisper when he realized you weren’t even awake to hear it. Your eyes gently shut and your breathing now steady. He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead his hand resting lightly on your back, watching over you as you drifted into a peaceful sleep.

“Always…” Touya whispered, one last time. His words barely audible, before joining you in sleep.

[treef-greef]

take a break

[baby-tini]

Imagine Dabi kidnaps you and he's actually really sweet. Besides the kidnapping, he could be actual boyfriend/husband material. Like he hasn't hurt you physically and it kind of fucks with your head a bit. He provides everything you need to live plus more. And you don't have to worry about surviving anymore. Since you were kidnapped dare you say more relaxed than ever. So, you put up with it and eventually develop Stockholm syndrome fr.

I don't think this was a request BUT I genuinely can't stop thinking about this, I love when he's so soft.

You despised him at first when he took you away, but it got better, Dabi told you it would. He told you that if you behaved that he would take care of you, treat you like a princess. Dabi truly loved you, he just wanted you to understand that and he would do anything to make you understand. It took a little while with punishments here and there but it worked. When he came home, you were there to greet him with open arms. Telling him how much you missed him, kissing him, nuzzling into his chest. Dabi could truly say, that for once in his life he truly felt happy, at peace... like he finally was enough for someone.

It felt.. nice, to be around Dabi, he was comforting in a way. Brushed your hair for you, braided it, let you sit with him on the balcony as he smoked. It was nice to just sit and talk about things with him, smelling the mid-night air as you leaned against his chest. He smelled nice, the smell of cigarettes now becoming a comfort, the sick smell of ash that had you wrinkling your nose now had you clinging to him, shoving your nose into his jacket. Dabi truly became someone of comfort for you, holding you close on cold nights. Kissing your head when the thunder sounded too loud on some nights.

You don't remember falling asleep, but then again, no one does. His side of the bed was warm though, so that had too mean he was home now, throwing the comforter off you go looking for him, and sure enough, he was out on the balcony, smoking. He truly looked ethereal, his eyes relaxed, shining a beautiful cerulean, head thrown back, dyed black hair a little tousled from scarred hands running through it. Dabi truly is a sight to behold.

Opening the sliding door, he looks up at you as you step out, closing it behind you so that bugs don't get it. He wraps an arm around you as you walk towards him, plopping down into his lap as blows the smoke away from you. "How you feeling doll, you sleep good?" There's a nod from you as you bury your face into his chest, inhaling that sweet smell of ash you've come to adore so much. The smell always makes you think of him, an automatic comfort it brings you is a stress-relief.

"How was work," you ask him softly, running your hands through his hair. He inhales through his nose before sighing, "It was fine, tiring, but fine." You can tell, he sounds exhausted, looks exhausted too. You kiss him, running your hands up and down the nape of his neck, he shudders at that, pecking your cheek. His right hand running up and down your back, drawing little patterns every now and again.

"...can I hit it," he glances at you, then looks at the cigarette, the tip burning a bright blue. He hums at you, holding it to your lips as you inhale the smoke. Holding it for a couple seconds, you blow it out away from his face. He pushes some of your hair behind you ear, mouthing at your neck. "You feel better pretty girl, hm?" His voice is always a welcome, low and deep, sounding so apathetically pretty.

"Yeah, thank you," he hums again, kissing at your collar bone as he runs a hand through your hair. He kisses your cheek before giving a couple pats to your ass, "come on, up, I'm tired doll, lets head in."