#touya oneshots

[katsukistofu]

ikea meatballs before marriage?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he knew his pick couldn’t be that bad.

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

cute in theory, but definitely a fire hazard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

your breath catches. mrs. todoroki?  

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

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

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

“what do we have?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he pouts even more. “it really was.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

i’d rather eat poison, natsuo texts back. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“she would.”

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

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

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

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

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

“oh yum! what’d you put in it?”

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

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

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

“touya todoroki, don’t you dare.”

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

“you say that but you hate kale.”

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

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

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

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

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

touya hugs you closer to him protectively. 

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

no bugs. 

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

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

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

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

“the dishes aren’t in alphabetical order!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

snap!

the both of your eyes widen at the sound. 

the shelf was upright and more centered than before. 

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

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

“well at least it looks better now.”

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

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

from now until forever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i don’t know if i like it.”

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

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

“the view.” 

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

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

the meguro sky garden in tokyo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

a kid. with him.

his and your kid.

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

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

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

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

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

touya can’t help but agree.

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

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

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

his hair is starlight in the morning.

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

he doesn’t even try to resist it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“where you going, tou?”

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

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

“i’'ll be back soon, i promise.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you place your hands on your hips. 

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

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

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

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

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

“o-oh.” you sigh in relief.

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

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

“mmph!”

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

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

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

“touya, the pot!” 

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

“forgot about that.”

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

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

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

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

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

“i think i deserve a little reward.”

you giggle, he was so cute.

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

“not there.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you’re stuck with him. 

from now until forever.

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

— danagray

[b3ach-bunn7]

IS IT CASUAL NOW?

You and Touya have been hooking up. But recently, it feels like something more, and it all comes it head in his bedroom

A fanfic based off my current fav song, causal by chappel roan !

—————————————————————————-

The consistent hum of the fan aimed at your face does nothing to ease the heat prickling your skin and the sick feeling bubbling in your stomach.

You’ve just gotten out of the shower and you should be cool, but August sun pours in from all corners of the room, despite the closed windows. Not your room, though. Touya’s room. The evidence is everywhere, from the t-shirts littered on the floor to the abandoned bass guitar leaning against his messy desk. His walls are empty apart from one pin board, adorned with post-it notes and movie stubs and pictures of his friends, one of you and him in the middle.

You’re in his bed now. Have been since you’d stepped out of his bathroom and quickly changed. The sheets are rumpled from earlier and you sigh. Your skin smells like Touya. His shampoo and his shower gel you’ve smelt on him too many times to count. Smelt on him as he spread you out across his bed and kissed down your torso.

You wish you could say that he was a doting boyfriend that had offered you a shower after a passionate night together. Instead, you can hear him bustling around his kitchen most likely getting himself food and you none.

You didn’t even know what to call him. A friend? A boyfriend? A lover? All you knew was that the second he messaged you to come over you did so running. And could you be blamed? Youd been friends with Touya for three years and you’d liked him for two. How could you not? That dusty white hair that was always perfectly unkept, the piercings, the motorbike. So yes, when he’d approached you one day, the two of you drunk of a bottle of his fathers vodka, you complied, practically jumped into his lap. You were as prepared as anyone else when he told you it would be casual, no attachments.

But that’s not what it felt like.

He did too much. Too much to label this as friends with benefits and nothing else. He introduced you to his family, for gods sake. Well, introduced was a strong word to use.

You’d be in his bed, only wearing one of his shirts and nothing more. He had been pacing around the room, complaining about some argument he’d had with his dad when someone had knocked frantically on his door. You both froze. Touya had assured you he was home alone, and after the sounds you’d been making not long ago, you were really hoping that was true.

You got up quickly, practically diving across the room to grab your trousers from the floor.

“Touya, you said we were home alone!”

“We are!” He whispered furiously. He dug through one of his dressers and pulled out a bra.ome of your favourites, to be more precise. Before you could comment he waved at you to put it on.

“No, we are clearly not.” You stand up and he curses under his breath.

“Who is it?” He calls out.

“It’s me! Open the door.” The voice is small and young and you grin.

You’d heard of Touya’s siblings, obviously. You’d even seen Fuyumi once or twice around school. But you’d never actually met them, especially little Shoto. Touya knew how much you loved kids and did all he could to keep you two apart.

“Piss off.” Touya says. You tut, shoving his arm and get up to open the door.

“Mum says you can’t say that word to me anymore. She says that-“ Shoto’s words are cut off as soon as he sees you. His eyebrows furrow, his little fist raised to knock on the door stuffed in his pocket. He peers up at you, one eye blue and the other brown, and squints.

“Who are you?”

You tell him your name and crouch down in front of him. “It’s nice to meet you. You’ve got very cool eyes.”

“Thanks. My mum and dad gave them to me.”

You laugh slightly. Shoto looks behind you and scowls at Touya.

“Mum says you have to come help with the shopping and also you aren’t allowed girls in your room.” His voice is traced with the lilt of an annoying younger sibling, but you can’t help but find him adorable.

“Shut up, you brat. Don’t tell me what to do.” Touya brushes past and flicks Shoto on the head. He grabs your hand and tugs you to your feet.

“Come on. You’re gonna have to meet my mum.”

Before you can protest he’s dragging you down the stairs, the pattering of tiny feet following behind you. When you enter the kitchen, Touya drops your hand. Fuyumi’s washing a bowl of fruit at the sink, Touya’s other brother (Natsuo, you think) is filling up the fridge, and the woman you assume to be his mother is chopping onions. She’s beautiful. That’s the first thing you notice. She looks young to have four kids, and she smiles warmly at you when she notices your presence in the kitchen. You’re not necessarily shy, but the eyes of Touya’s family planted on you is almost enough to have you hide behind him. But of course, he’s no help. He just reaches for a bag of groceries and waves at you.

“This is Y/N. Y/N, this is Natsou, Fuyumi and my mother.” He doesn’t look away from where he’s filling up a cupboard with cans of soemthing

You smile. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

“It’s lovely to meet you too! Nice to finally put a face to the name I hear all the time.” His mother smiles. You glance at Touya who is actively avoiding eye contact.

“He talks about me?”

“Oh, all the time. If anything, we can’t get him to shut-“

“Mum.”

“Sorry, sorry!” She holds up a hand in surrender but she sends you a wink.

“What are you guys doing home so early, anyways?” Touya asks.

“Dunno, we finished up early. What, we interrupting something?” Natsou grins and Touya smacks the back of his head. “Ow. Your girlfriend won’t like you anymore if you’re mean to me, you know.”

“Fuck off, you freak.”

“Language, Touya.” His mum sighs.

You ignore the warm feeling in your chest at Touya not denying the girlfriend allegations. You grab a bag from the floor and join Touya. His mother protests and tries to grab it from you.

“No, please, it’s fine, Mrs Todoroki.”

“Honey, you’re in my house, of course it’s not okay. And please, call me Rei.” She grabs the bag out of your hand and dumps it in a reluctant Touya’s.

“You go sit inside, I’ll send Touya to you soon.”

You oblige after much more argument. The living room is small. You remember Touya telling you this house was all his mum could afford after the divorce. But it didn’t matter, because despite the size it felt like a home. Trophies from Natsou’s sport events, pictures of the family at Christmas. It was cozy, all blue hues and pillows on every seat. You sat back but you weren’t alone for long. Shoto walked in, carrying two lollipops in his hands. He clambers onto the couch next to you and holds one out.

“For you.”

“Why thank you, Shoto, that’s very kind.” You take it out his hand, unwrap it quickly and pop it in your mouth. You watch him struggle with his for a moment before you offer to open it for him. You do so quickly and he nods his thanks. When he does speak again, it’s around the sweet that’s already staining his tongue blue.

“Are you Touya’s girlfriend?” You shake your head no.

“Good. You’re way too pretty for him.”

You snort a laugh. “You know, I agree. And I think you’re way too cute to be his little brother.”

Shoto nods. He kicks his feet up and down.

“Cool socks.” You point. They’re adorned with a little spiderman and he wriggles his feet at your comment.

“I know. I love spiderman.”

“I love spiderman too!”

Shoto nearly smiles then. The boy is quite monotone, you realise, but he perks up at the mention of the superhero. “He’s so cool. I wanna be a hero when I’m older. Like him.”

“I say you do it. Going to have to have big strong muscles to do that.” You point out.

Shoto almost rolls his eyes. “I already have big strong muscles. Look.” He brandishes his skinny arms and you gasp.

“Wow! How do you lift your arms up with this gun show?” You tickle under his arm and he giggles.

“Cause I’m a hero, duh.” He does roll his eyes this time you grin. You have an idea then. Something that always made your own little sister crack a smile.

“Well, can you fly?”

Shoto looks at you like you’re stupid. “Of course not.”

You pretend to think for a second. You tap your chin with your finger and you stand up slowly. You reach your hands forward and move your fingers.

“You sure?” You drag out the syllables of your words.

“Very.”

You suddenly reach forward and pick him up. He squeals as you spin him around, and drop him back on the couch.

“Liar, you can fly!”

He laughs, finally, and throws his arms in the air. “Again!”

You do the same thing and he squeals again, arms coming to grab your shoulders. You’re both laughing, slightly breathless, when you notice Touya standing at the door. He has a look on his face you can’t quite decipher, but it feels so fond you have to avert your gaze.

You’d stayed for dinner that day, much to the excitement of Shoto, who couldn’t seem to leave your side. You felt comfortable with his family and despite Touya’s silence throughout the meal, you enjoyed yourself.

You wonder where his family is now. It’s just you and Touya in the house, and he’s still doing whatever downstairs.

Your phone buzzes and you reach over the bed to grab it from its place on the bedside table. It’s your friends. They’re all out apparently, and asking where you are. One of them jokes that she ‘hopes you’re not with Touya again’. You’re sure they’re all laughing. You’re so happy at least somebody is enjoying all of this.

It’s not that they don’t like Touya. They’ve met him a couple times, at parties and when you’re sitting together in school. They think he’s funny and they definitely think he’s hot. The whole school does. Who can resist the bad boy with hair over his eyes and a tongue piercing? What they don’t like about Touya is how he treats you.

They’ve heard the rumours. Most people have, that you and him are hooking up. Which you guess is true. There’s nothing wrong with that. What your friends are more worried about is how he treats you like his girlfriend one day and an acquaintance at best the next. The more harsh friends of yours call you a loser for putting up with it. You thought that was a bit much before but you feel like a loser now.

You run a hand across your neck. More hickeys you’ll have to cover before school. Touya loves marking you, something he mumbled into your skin one day. You did the same to him once and he was off with you for a bit. The next time you saw him he told you that ‘we’re not together’ and that it sent mixed signals. To who? That’s what you wanted to ask. But it’s casual so you nodded and agreed, and your shirt was off in the next breath.

You wish that it was easier. That you didn’t feel as much as you did, in particular towards him. Maybe it would’ve been easier then. If it was all just sexual then yes, maybe you could end it. Block his number and tell him to stop talking to you.

But you can’t.

You think you might love him. If not now, then soon, if things keep going the way they are. Because Touya has never treated it like it was casual, like you weren’t together. There’s no way with how he kisses you. So softly. How on some days, when he shows up to your house in the middle of the night because he can’t sleep, he holds you like you’re the only thing stopping him from drowning. How, in the backseat of his car, he told you about his father, explained away each scar littered across his body. There was no way that, all from a boy everybody knew had no attachments, meant nothing.

He’d never admit it though. You knew this. You’d spent the past month rolling it around your head, and you knew that’s why you had to end it. Whatever the hell this was.

Your thoughts are cut off as the door to his bedroom swings open. Touya walks in with two packets of crisps and a can of coke. He throws one at you and you let it fall in front of you.

“Food is fuel. Eat up.” He says, cracking the can open with his teeth.

You shake your head. “I’m not hungry.”

He falls on the bed next to you. You scoot backwards and he’s laying on his stomach, and takes a swig of his drink. He’s only wearing boxers and you actively avert your eyes from him. You instead focus your gaze on your hands that fiddle in your lap.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He makes a noise.

Touya sits up slightly and moves towards you. His forearms rest either side of your legs and he kisses your neck, licks over the marks he’d left not long ago, before reaching your lips. And you allow yourself to forget for a moment as he kisses you. He reaches a hand up to cup your face, teeth nipping your bottom lip. And it’s then, with how tenderly his fingers stroke your cheek, you remember. You remember your friends calling you a loser, the way he dropped your hand when his family saw him holding it.

You push him back and get up. You shake your head as he furrows his brows.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t do this anymore.” You just say it. The words spit out your mouth like you can’t hold them in any longer. Touya sits up now, and his face is changing from confused to angry bit by bit.

“What do you mean?”

“This! The fucking, and- and the kissing and the sleeping together, everything! I can’t do this anymore!” You yell. You walk further away from his bed like it’ll make this any easier. You’re not sure when this progressed to something angry, but you can’t help yourself.

Touya stands. He grabs a pair of sweatpants and you look away as he changes, like you haven’t seen every part of him, physical and not.

“And what has made you come to this sudden realisation? Everything has been fine.” He snaps.

“For you. Touya, you drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”

Touya scoffs. “The fuck did I do?”

You laugh then, but it’s void of any mirth. You push your hair back with one hand, overstimulated and so angry.

“You tell me it’s casual. That we are casual, and then you do all this shit! I mean- your mother invited me to your holiday house, for fucks sake! And your siblings. I mean, Fuyumi calls me all the time and I don’t mind, I love her. All of your siblings, but. You can’t act like it doesn’t mean anything! That we’re that close!”

Touya shakes his head. He’s lost all looks of confusion and you might say he looks bored. It only fuels your anger even more.

“And- the way you kiss me. The way you hold me after we fuck, I-“

“It doesn’t mean anything.” He snaps.

“Don’t do that! Don’t lie to my face!” You yell.

“I’m not lying! I told you. I told you from the start that this meant nothing. It’s not my problem you’re acting crazy.” He shakes his head.

You think you might cry. You feel the prickle of tears line the inside of your eyes and you blink furiously. You’re not sure if it’s anger or sadness but either way you won’t give him the privilege of seeing it.

“No. You don’t get to act all cool about this. You were eating me out in the passenger seat of your shitty car, and I’m the crazy one?”

You pace around the room. You can’t even look at him. At the look on his face. You think you might hit him if you do.

“Look, I tried. Okay? I tried to be the chill girl, and I tried to give you your space, but I can’t! I’m not the chill girl, I’m so pent up about this. You know how badly all my friends cuss me out because of you? Because of the way you treat me?”

He walks towards you then. He’s standing in front of you and you’re forced to look up at his looming height. You can smell the same shower gel on him that’s on you, and you step back, ignoring the tightening of your chest.

“You don’t get to fucking act like I’m the problem here. You’ve had every opportunity to leave, don’t act like I’m the only one responsible.” He spits, finger pointing at your face. You shove his hand out of your way.

“Oh yeah? And when Kai asked me out, how did you react? Because last I checked he stood me up on my date because somebody had told him I was taken. You had nothing to do with that?”

Touya stutters then, and you think you’ve finally got him. Had finally found the thing that’ll make him realise he likes you too. That you could be together. For real.

“Yeah, I told him to back off. I don’t shit where I eat.”

You freeze then. “What's that supposed to mean?”

Touya pauses for a second. Something crosses over his face, and then he settles. Like he’s decided on something. The hard set of his shoulders and the way his eyes bore into yours.

“Kai is a friend. You are somebody I fuck. I don’t need the two of you mixing.”

The tears in your eyes blur your vision. You know he’s trying to hurt you. You know he’s doing this to push you away because he’s too scared to commit. But god, it’s working. Confirms every little thing that eats at you every time Touya turns you away, all the things your friends had warned you about.

“You’re bitter about that. That’s fine. I don’t really care. I warned you. I told you what to expect from me, and like an idiot, you wanted more. I told you this was all casual and you didn’t listen. That’s not my problem. And if you want to end things that’s fine.”

Part of you thought he might fight. Might try to fight for you if you tried to end it. You’d stayed up night after night, fooling yourself that Touya cared. Even if he couldn’t show it. Past it all you thought you meant something to him. People were dramatic. Your friends were dramatic. He showed that he liked you back in his own way. But you look at him now, the look in his eyes, and you don’t think he could care any less about you.

“You fucked me in the bathroom while your family ate dinner downstairs and you wonder why I’m bitter about this?” You inch closer, jabbing your finger in his chest.

“You showed me everything, everything about yourself and you just expect me to think it’s casual? Are you fucking serious, Touya?”

You shake your head and the tears do fall. You wipe aggressively at your cheeks and you watch his cold demeanour falter as he watches them drip down your face. Touya’s hand twitches like he’s going to reach forward but he decides against it. Just steps back and looks away instead.

“God, they were right. I hate that I let this drag on so long. And you- you don’t even care.” You sniff, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.

Touya says nothing. He sits back down on his bed. Reaches into the table next to his bed and grabs his cigarettes. You face scrunched up, the way you know it does when you’re about to really cry, and you turn away.

“Go to hell, Todoroki.”

You know that stings. You hope it does, as you grab the rest of your stuff. He doesn’t call out as you walk out his room. Doesn’t try to stop you as you slam his front door shut.

You’re finally reminded of the prickly heat as you’re walking down the sidewalk. Only this time, there’s no fan to cool down the sweat on your skin, washing away the last scent of Touya you think you’ll ever come across.

—————————————————————————-

hope you enjoyed! if you’d like a part two where I force Touya to admit that he actually is in love with y/n plz let me know 🩷

[leahrintarou]

can u pls do text messages on how different mha boys would react if you got sick after they told you countless of times to dress properly for the cold weather? 😭

✩₊˚.⋆ TOLD YOU SO - touya todoroki, takami keigo, katsuki bakugou, & izuku midoriya

CW: characters included are izuku midoriya, touya todoroki (dabi), katsuki bakugou, and takami keigo (hawks). swearing, intended lowercase, reader has a small cold.

Author's Note: i saw this request and had to write it immediately! it's so cute :') i hope you enjoy. if you'd like, send in a request of a scenario(s) and character(s).

likes, reblogs, and comments are well appreciated! <3

got a request? send it in and i'll write it :D

Taglist: @nemoo888 @delicatexmoonchild @flowerpjimin @tedcruzumakii @sugacor3 @selysixn @mitsuyas-version @matchaismylove @cyberrthegreat @ivydoesit23 @riririntaro @ilovechickfilasauce @sincerelyzee @daydreamteardrop @greenmanshoe @scatteredskittless @seastarchive @tired-jaz

[everyoneisalittlesadalittlehorny]

You sit there, alone in the last row, or in the first row. Always alone. Hunched over. Vacant stare. People don’t even try to make polite conversation with you anymore. They just avoid you.

He sees you, sitting there. He has always seen you with your friends or giggling away with random people. To see you like this, was new for everyone..jarring for him.

He likes this new class. He’s a popular kid for once in his life. Who knew the coolest kid in university is always the nerd? High time! He thought to himself. You on the other hand, went from popular and happy to a shell of a person in a matter of weeks. It’s not like he didn’t try! He did. He would, every day if you let him. But you just brushed off his questions with ‘I’m okay. I just need to be alone for a bit.’

You- you woke up and did whatever you absolutely had to do and nothing more. You were skipping meals, sleeping whenever you could, your assignments were shit but it was all you could manage right now. You barely even registered the days passing. Your best friend, your only friend thought you were a burden. When asked why he wasn’t dating he said ‘i can’t, not while I still have her in my life’

You were so clingy and high maintenance that he couldn’t even be dating people. Being the sweetheart he is, he put his dating life on hold for you. You knew you weren’t meant to hear it and that he’ll never say it to your face- primarily because you’ll react poorly- so you spared him the trouble and distanced yourself from him.

You see him occasionally-everyday but you only register things occasionally. He’s happy. He’s popular now. They recognise his intelligence and your classmates and professors love him. He’s got many friends now, many women crushing on him, many people looking to hang out with him. He’s fine. He’s more than fine-he’s thriving…without you. You intend to keep it that way.

He keeps tabs on you.

Is she eating? He invites everyone to share his lunch, some of the older classmates force some food in you.

She skipped class again today. He asks a mutual friend to pass on his notes to you (but you don’t know that they are his notes)

What? She’s sitting where?! Alone? He finds an excuse to turn up nearby and keep an eye on you.

His friends know he’s into you and tease him about it all the time. He’s told them that you are not into him. They asked him, multiple times, to move on, to date other people and live a little. He can’t bring himself to do that.

No, I can’t. Not while she’s in my life.

He didn’t have to spell it out for them. He’s in love with you and he can’t move on. He does not want to. He’d love you forever if you let him.

[lilacgaby]

✽(5) WARNINGS LEFT BY "LILACGABY"

you were well versed in scary movie knowledge, or so you thought. but as you accepted your friend's invite to a lodge rumored to be favored by the supernatural, you'd only have yourself to blame. as notes appeared in everything around you, warning you of what's to come.

director's note: ahh this is my first october themed series!! something's might change aroundd but i promise to do my best as always (•̀ᴗ•́)و, happy almost spooky month!

ft: katsuki bakugo, toji fushiguro, satoru gojo, touya todoroki, ryomen sukuna, and (?)

cw: horror, dark romance, and violence.

october 2nd.

paring: parkranger(?)gojo x reader.

you were seperated from your group and discover an abandoned cabin out in the forest. ignoring the blood and signs of struggle as you felt hypnotized by the flashing lights leading you further. you place a tape into the tv, and a woman's screaming is all you hear. "don't trust the blinded man!" is all she managed before the tape cut off abruptly, and the friendly park ranger walked in behind you.

october 9th.

pairing: vampire!toji x reader

after that experience you needed someone to trust. you ran through the forest back to your group's cabin. a knock on your door took your attention, but there was a sticky note hung on top of the vision panel. "don't welcome in anyone, ever." was written in crimson.. was that fake blood? oh well, you're sure it was nothing as you welcomed in the handsome man in front of you.

october 16th.

pairing: demon!dabi x reader.

you'd lost everything. you escaped by the skin of your teeth, but the forest was endless and you weren't prepared. as your car finally slowed down to a lack of fuel, a note flew in through the window. "don't accept any deals, they're too good to be true!" was written in the same red as earlier, except this one had drops splattered over the note. a man knocked on your window and offered, for a cheap price, to fix all your problems.

october 21st.

pairing: gegenee!sukuna x reader.

you were sure the world you've entered now wasn't yours anymore. you swore the trees grew taller with every limped step you took. a note, mockingly free as it flew down to you, the crimson text gone and now black as it read, "if you see the six-limbed man, run for your life." but it was too late, for he saw you first.

october 30th.

pairing: doppleganger!bakugo x reader.

your escapes hadn't been futile in the end, you'd finally made it back to your loving boyfriend katsuki. scratched onto the side of the street you were walking with him in hand, was written 'don't trust even those closest to you." your face scrunched up in confusion, but you didn't get time to ponder it as your boyfriend, who'd been oddly cheerful today, opened the door for you with.. raspberry colored eyes.

october 31st.

pairing: mastermind!(?) x reader.

who could you trust anymore? who was doing this to you? as you followed the trail of notes, a bloodied trail leading you up a hill as you were suddenly put face to face with the mastermind.

[heartkaji]

★ TARANTULA GIRL !

(n) — dabi only likes girls who are more bite than bark note : written for @seneon, everyone’s fave goth gf <3

touya swears she sips souls for dinner.

he’s not sure how he came to that conclusion but the signs are glaring : her knuckles are white as ghosts as they bend around wine stem & bruise like wet graveyards. she drinks blood like it’s grape juice—it stains her lips a barberry hue & now touya’s walking towards her without even realizing it.

“fancy seeing you here.”

“you again.”

cherry-blood dribbles down her chin but she makes no effort to wipe it away. she presses the glass to her lips for yet another sip. “haven’t you harassed me enough this week ?”

“this is only the fourth time i’ve come talk to you.”

“it’s only tuesday, dabi.”

touya swallows the blood creeping up his throat & watches you swallow yours. your adam’s apple bobs as you take yet another sip, ( dabi wonders how you aren’t drunk yet, he knows this is far from your first glass ) plum coke kisses staining the rim. it’s been two minutes or three since he took a seat beside you & you haven’t even bothered to turn to look at him & fuck you’re so annoying.

but you’re so fucking pretty.

& so fucking bitchy too. dabi doesn’t test the waters. he knows they’ll swallow him whole through sore jaw & shark teeth but he might as well dive in anyways. he pokes at your knee, earning him a side eye before brushing a thumb over the berry-bruised skin. you don’t rip out his throat & eat it so he takes that as a good sign. he shifts his seat a little closer to yours.

“i’ll bite you.”

“no you won’t.”

he knows you won’t because he rubs at your knee & you let him touch you like a good girl. he draws silly shapes on your flesh—a rose, a bubble, a gun—& you let it all happen, you always do. you’re looking at him from the corner of your eyes like you want to split his teeth & bruise his chin but you’re pliant under his touch & pretend it doesn’t rot you. you’re a brat & a bitch but when it comes to dabi you can’t help but role play as something more sugary. sweeter. he bites back a grin.

“you’re awfully obedient today.”

“don’t test my limits.”

he chuckles, lazy fingers dragging deeper between your thighs. you set your wine glass on the counter & dabi takes it up in his own, taking a sip of the contents. you eye him before relaxing in your seat, his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs. his hold tightens as he sets the cup at the counter. “wanna ditch?”

“isn’t this tomura’s party ?”

“he’ll understand,” he hums, offering a hand. you take it like it’s instinct & dabi pulls you to your feet, palm resting at the small of your back. for the first time tonight you’re looking dabi straight in the eyes (other times it was through them) so dabi can’t ignore the tug in his throat. your eyes are glossed & heavy & maybe it’s the alcohol but he swears your cheeks are flushed too. he can almost hear heavy breaths leaving semi-parted lips. he’s staring so you blink, “hello ?”

“hello, beautiful.”

it’s cheesy & corny & it makes you want to throw up but all that’s in your stomach is butterflies. dabi’s grip is tight as ever as he guides you through drunken bodies & wasted youths. his legs are long so it’s hard to keep up & you reach for his arm instead. you wrap your arms around his bicep & dabi prays for angels to kill him now.

“are your feet sore ? you can take off your heels in the car.”

you shake your head. “no need for that. you wont be seeing my feet that easily, touya.”

“ah, you caught me there.”

you smile a bit & you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen but your lips quickly tighten into their usual bored expression. you scan the night as dabi leads you once again & stops you at his s63 coupe. the color seems to melt into midnight darkness.

“haven’t been in this thing in ages.”

“haven’t fucked you here in ages, too”

“touya.”

dabi laughs and it’s a boyish chuckle, never ceasing even when you slap his arm to. your cheeks are drenched a poppy red but you tell yourself it’s the alcohol & fasten your seat belt. dabi has one hand trailing up your thigh & you try to swallow the butterflies flapping up your throat. he grabs at your palms & rubs circles on your knuckles & now the flapping in your throat is akin to clawing. you pull your hand away.

dabi furrows a brow, eyes never leaving the road. “now you wanna be a brat ? and you were being so good f’me too.”

“i’m literally gonna get out right now.”

dabi suppresses a smile. “you look pretty tonight.”

“you can do better than that.”

“that dress makes you look extra fuckable.”

“alright, that’s enough.”

dabi is laughing again but your heart rings in your ears. you and dabi aren’t friends with benefits. hell, you aren’t even friends. so why do you sit in the passenger’s seat of his car, his palm on your thigh as he parks in the middle of nowhere ?

“where are we ?”

“come sit.”

“touya.”

“please.”

it’s a whiny whimper & you’d be the devil to resist him when he looks at you so longingly, so lovingly it makes your teeth rot & heart ache. you unfasten your seat belt & climb into his lap while dabi guides you by your thighs. his scars are as ragged as ever.

“missed you,” he coos.

the bass of his voice tugs at your heart. his fingers move hair out of your face before tracing your jaw / chin / everywhere. dabi’s touch is butterfly wings flapping against rose petals. you close your eyes & it’s easy to forget he’s even there.

“let me kiss you.”

“isn’t it too early for that ?”

“isn’t it too early for that ?” he mocks, pulling you in by the chin. your lips taste like mulled peach & they’re colored dimmauve & your gloss is sticky and fuck it’s been forever since he’s had you like this & heaven knows how you drive him insane.

he squeezes your hips & you let out a whine & your strangled voice is the prettiest thing he’s ever heard. his palms trace lines down your backless dress, sparks stinging through rosebud fingertips. you whine a little more & it drives dabi on edge. he wishes you’d whine his name instead.

you grip at his shoulder & dabi lets you go for air. spit dribbles down your chin & your bottom lip is swollen but hell if you aren’t the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. you’re glossy eyes & rose tipped nose & peach jam cheeks that swell with matte blush. he wipes at your mouth & cradles your chin.

“have i ever told you i could kiss you all day ?”

you nod your head & kiss him again with teeth that bite like tarantulas.

© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload

[inkykeiji]

But also the thought of big brother Touya noticing you usually steal his shoes to run outside, and he loves it. But this one time he catches you and you hadn’t even realised that you’ve snatched Natsuo’s— but Touya noticed…

JOOOOOO this ask sent me into a fucking fit and i wrote an embarrassing amount about it i am so sorry (but also thank you for such a brilliant idea it had me reeling for days ily ily ily)

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, stepcest, noncon, touya is Awful, unrealistic amounts of cum, one (1) mention of implied underage, minimal prep, slight dacryphilia, fem!reader, implied physical abuse, rough sex words: 2.4k

You don’t notice—and, truth be told, you wouldn’t have noticed, had Touya not made such a big fucking deal out of it. 

But, as always, that just isn’t his style. 

A heavy, dirty palm claps over your mouth the moment you re-enter the mudroom, smothering the scream of surprise punched from your chest as another strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you back against a broad chest. 

“Shut up,” your eldest brother growls in your ear, though amusement tinges the edges of his words, demand spit through a grin. 

Using his bodyweight, he manhandles you toward the steadily humming washing machine, spinning you around to face him just before he traps you against it, vibrating edge digging into your back.

“Jesus, Touya!” you heave out, a palm held flat over your heart in an attempt to calm it. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Y’know, I really can’t believe you’d do this to me,” he laments, an exaggerated pout molding his scarred lips. “I thought I was your favourite brother.” 

“What?” your lashes flutter in quick succession, forehead warping with confusion. “You are? You know you are, you always have been—”

“That so? Who’s shoes are on your feet right now?” 

Looking down, your gaze lands on Natsuo’s tattered white sneakers—a stark contrast to Touya’s worn-in combat boots, or Touya’s fraying, battered Vans—and realization smooths your brow. 

Oh no. 

Head snapping up quickly, an explanation begins to bubble in your throat, stalled by the sudden ice in your veins, your heart plummeting through your ribcage. 

“O-Oh! Uh, I-I’m sorry—I just grabbed them—I wasn’t paying attention—”

“So you’ll just slip your feet in anyone’s shoes?” 

The innuendo infusing his snarky tone doesn’t go unnoticed and your eyes narrow, face puckered up with something sour.

“Of course not,” you spit, chin tilting up a little. 

A hum of incredulity vibrates in his throat, head quirked. “Doesn’t seem that way.” 

Your features flatten, fixing your big brother with an unimpressed look, though your heart is still in your stomach, pounding away irregularly. 

You’re sure he can feel it, throbbing in your gut, his hips pressing further into your own, demanding an answer.

“Touya, they’re shoes. They mean nothing. It was an innocent mistake—”

“Prove it.”

“Prove what?” you frown, voice beginning to strain beneath desperation. “It was an accident, meaning that it was unintended, not deliberate, like—”

“Prove to me that I’m your favourite brother.”

A pang sears through your chest, features falling as if he had just physically struck you, appalled that he would even insinuate such a thing, as if he could ever not be your favourite, and your response comes out harsher than you intend, scathing your tongue. 

“I prove that to you every fucking night.” 

Sapphire flares, engulfing pinprick pupils, the hinges of his jaw flexing with a slow, controlled exhale. It wafts across your face, chills skittering after it as dread unfurls, thick and sticky, in the pit of your stomach, engulfing your heart in a tarry, suffocating embrace. 

“Y’know, that mouth of yours is real filthy,” he begins, eyes lidded with a practiced indifference, not enough to hide the flames glimmering in his irises.

Of course your mouth is; it’s routinely glazed by your eldest brother’s tongue, your teeth lacquered in thick spit stained with spice and ash—irrevocably soiled, ruined, forever his.

A response blazes on your tarnished tongue—something you try to keep locked away behind two rows of ivory, something you try to snuff out, muscle pressed hard against the roof of you mouth—but it’s too hot, it’s too strong, melting past your teeth to ooze from your lips, venom and syrup.

“Oh, yeah? What’re you gonna do about it?”

You expect a backhand for such a rude response, face preemptively wincing as the phantom of sharp knuckles and metal rings caresses your cheek, but he just smirks, eyes lazily sweeping to the sink crammed between the machines, zeroing in on a thick bar of soap. 

“Oh, I’ve got some ideas.” 

You’re too slow, too weak, too stupid to escape it—or, rather, he’s too fast, too tough, too smart to allow such a mistake, a fluid flash of ivory and crystal as he leans forward, palm already clasping around the bar when you try to wriggle from below his body, his free hand catching your jaw and yanking you to back toward him, hard enough to give you whiplash. 

Pain sears down your spine, a yelp splintering in your throat, body gone pliant beneath your big brother’s touch. 

“Open.” 

Head shaking, your jaw clenches under callused fingertips in defiance, molars grinding together.

“I said, open,” he growls, expertly squeezing the hinges, mouth popping open easily without your permission.

You should’ve known he’d do that, a trick he learned when you were teenagers, a trick he’s been exploiting ever since. 

The bar shoves past your teeth, scraping against the edges, thick curls of soap collecting in the divots of your cheeks. 

A bitterness explodes on your tongue, flattened to the underside of the bar, and your features scrunch up in distaste, nose wrinkling, eyes shut tight.

“Keep it in there,” he says, thumb pressing it in a little further, huffing out a chuckle at your responding gag. “If you spit it out before I cum, I’ll tie it to your goddamn mouth and fuck you again, y’hear me?” 

Azure eyes search your face, slow and calm as they wait for you to nod your understanding. Then he’s smirking, something smug and arrogant curdling the corners of his lips, and he’s spinning you around, grip rough and harsh as he pins you between the machine and his body, and he’s kicking at your inner ankles, toes forcing your legs further apart, knees slipping between your own, keeping them pried open. 

“You know,” he’s saying conversationally, hands unhurried as they creep up your dress, the hem beginning to bunch around his wrists. “I’ve always found it so cute when you act as if you don’t want this.” 

Fingers crawl between your spread thighs, muscles tensing around his as if they’d like to snap shut, his own strong legs urging yours wider. 

Two digits find your hole, drenched and desperate, rubbing circles into it through the lace of your panties—massaging, tips just barely dipping inside, snorting out something sick and cruel as your empty cunt pulses and flutters, a poor attempt to suck them in further.

He plays with you for a breath, gathering the fabric between his forefinger and a thumb, peeling the sticky material from where it was clinging to your folds. 

Holding it taut, he lets your shame build, flushing hot through your blood, pinpricks sprouting across your skin, Touya waiting for that telltale whimper before finally allowing it to slap back wetly, another little snicker dripping from his lips. 

Callused pads find your clit, puffy and yearning and jumping beneath his touch. He brushes against it—a crude apology of sorts—then clamps down on the swollen nub, something high and pitchy cracking in your throat.

“It’s always so hot,” he speaks over your cry, grip strengthening, “when you act as if this doesn’t turn you own just as much as it turns me on.”

Jerking forward, his hips grind into your ass, hard cock pressed tightly to supple flesh. His jaw latches over your shoulder, chin digging into your collarbone and keeping you in place.

“So don’t stop, ‘kay?”

Your head nods; automatic, instinctual, unable to resist even if you wanted to.

Because yeah, sure, he’s fucking sick, but you’re just as bad, ailed with the same illness, contracted from the same diseased household, the both of you growing, festering, in the same putrified environment—nurtured there, poisoned there, by each other, for each other. 

And so, you obey, you perform, body thrashing against his own, palms planted on the top of the washer pushing back hard, his cock twitching in response. 

Yeah, yeah, keep fighting him. 

The sound that rattles in his chest is dark, dangerous, lips spread into a wide grin. One of his hands curls around the back of your neck, grip hard enough to stutter the blood in your jugulars, before he slams your head down against the machine, skull bouncing a little with the impact. 

The force nearly sends the soap skittering from your mouth, eyes widening as you manage to catch it with your teeth, drawing it back in. His palm skims down your spine, splayed flat on the small of your back, pinioning you in place.

His cock breaches you suddenly, one sharp, swift thrust to bury him to the hilt, head jammed tight against your cervix. It fucking stings, delicate skin splitting as your hole stretches, strains, struggles to swallow him whole, desperate to succeed, to submit. 

You choke on a gasp, the soap wedged in your mouth making it difficult to inhale, and Touya laughs, cruelness curling on his tongue. 

His other hand wraps around your waist, fingertips snapping tiny capillaries beneath their touch, using the leverage to pull you back as his hips hammer forward, each drive of his cock jostling your entire body, the edge of the machine jabbing your tummy.

It’s ruthless right from the start, just as it always is with Touya, cock pounding into you hard and fast and deep, the sharp slap of his pelvis against your ass rivalling the steady rumble of the machines. 

The soap is already starting to slip again, melting in the heat of your mouth, eroded by the saliva drooling in thick strings from the corners, and you whine, teeth sinking further into the softening bar, a feeble attempt to hold it in place. 

Even now, you’re still so eager to please him. 

But it’s hard to hone your concentration on the slick bar between your lips when Touya’s consistently ramming against that swollen patch of flesh buried deep within you, cockhead rolling over that spot in quick little motions, in time with the piston of his hips. 

Sparks of pleasure quiver down your legs, each thrust sending another bout flooding through your veins, a dense, hot heat beginning to furl in the pit of your stomach. 

It feels so good, muffled moans seeping past the seam of your stretched lips, fingers curling around the corners of the washing machine, nails scraping metal as you try to anchor yourself, weakly pushing back against your big brother, begging for more. 

It’s a shame your big brother knows your body so well.

“Don’t you dare,” he pants out, purposefully angling his hips so he stops brushing up against that spot, his next thrust missing it completely. “Bad little sisters don’t get to cum on their big brother’s cock, don’t you know?” 

The denial burns your eyes, a stringy, contorted wail of his name wavering around the soap as a thick shield of tears blurs your vision, nose twitching with a sniffle. 

“Yeah, yeah, cry about it, baby,” he mocks, the edges of his letters gone wispy, sounding more like a plead than a demand. “It’s your own fault; if you weren’t such a disrespectful little brat then maybe niichan would’ve let you cum.” 

You hate being told no by anyone, but you hate being told no by Touya the most.

It hurts, chest aching with rebuff, but your body does as he asks anyway, incapable of disobeying a direct order from its owner, tears spilling past your lashes to pool in little puddles on the metal.

You try to say please, to beg so prettily, with glittering lashes beaded with tears and sweet little niichan’s hiccuping your ribs, but the wiggling of your tongue causes the soap to slip again, a sweet yelp of concern trembling in your throat as your teeth dig in deeper, jaw tensing, cheeks hollowing around the bar in an attempt to suck it further into your mouth.

The agony doesn’t last long, though, your combined obedience and weeping and the grumbling vibrations from the machine enough have Touya cumming quickly. 

You should’ve known that would happen, too, Touya now a seasoned pro in the art of the quickie, a feat achieved through years of practice, in family game closets and your personal shower and the backseat of his car. 

Two more pumps before his cock is throbbing almost violently, his hips stammering to a stop, flexors pressed flush to your ass as he fills you to the brim with hot, thick cum. 

The moment he’s got nothing else to give, finished stuffing your cunt full of his rotten seed, he’s pulling out despite your whines of protest, knees hitting tile as his hands curl around your thighs, nails dimpling plush flesh, carving crescents of angry purple as he wrenches them further apart. 

Dollops of cream cascade down your inner legs, his thumbs sure to move out of their way as they lazily roll past, unobstructed. 

“Don’t move,” he breathes, voice infused with a sick sort of awe as his head tilts, spine curving uncomfortably while he follows them down your calves, watching as they trickle right into Natsuo’s shoes. 

“Fuck,” he nearly whines, nose nuzzling into the back of your knee, lips dragging across your skin as he speaks again. “D’y’think you can squeeze some more out f’me?” 

Yes, niichan, of course, niichan, anything for you, niichan. 

Empty hole contracting around nothing and muscles in your gut tensing, you manage to wring more of the sticky substance from your body, sending another torrent of cum flowing down your legs in silky streams to soak into, to stain, Natsuo’s soles. 

A praise sticks in Touya’s throat, garbled and heavy, his tongue smoothing along the residual streaks gleaming on your skin, sopping up the remnants of his pleasure, painting over them with a thick salve of saliva. 

“There,” he’s murmuring when he gets to his feet again, nose trailing along the curve of your neck with a single deep inhale, lips planting a chaste kiss to your earlobe. “That should be enough to remind you to never make such a careless mistake ever again, right?” 

Your head turns, nose bumping against his own, wet eyes blinking twice. Waiting. 

Something sinister smears across your big brother’s lips, crystal eyes shimmering as they watch his fingers dislodge the bar from your mouth, clumps of soap clinging to the edges of your teeth. 

“Yes, niichan,” you say immediately, voice wrecked and raw, the confirmation grating on your throat.

A thumb rubs along your front teeth, smudging the soap in a crude caress, his gaze mollifying slightly. 

“That’s my good little sister.” 

[tonyboneysblog]

Hey!! I saw your touya fic and OMGG its so cute 😭 could you write more about being childhood friends with touya? I also couldn’t check your request rules page, it said post not found so sorry if this goes against any of your rules!!

broken arm one shot!

parings: Touya Todoroki x reader

wordcount: 1.3k

notes: I was actually so excited to make this request- ANNON I COULD KISS YOU.

warnings: none!

summary: you got a broke arm everyone wants to sign! but Touya just wants his doodles on it.

At this point in your life, you felt as if you’d experienced all the pain you ever could.

until you older brother decided to push you off your trampoline.

And yeah- maybe your body also decided to fall in a way that broke your arm- but it’s all your brother’s fault!

your mom told him not to be rough, and he was.

he got grounded for as long as you had to be in a cast.

Now the cast specifically could’ve been your favorite part of the whole ordeal- you got to pick out the color.

you chose your favorite of course.

Your mother even drove you to your favorite food place! Maybe this will repay the incoming trauma you’ll have of trampolines.

The first person to sign your cast was your older brother, it’s just said “sorry sis.” and you weren’t in the mood to accept the apology so you scratched it out with the black sharpie your mom lended you.

The second person who signed your cast was the first one you saw when you walked into school.

school kids love singing casts, even if they didn’t know the person.

and you in-fact, did not know half the people who signed your cast.

Then when you finally made your way to your first class with a grin, you got to see your best friend’s reaction.

Touya Todoroki.

You watch his face twist into absolute horror and your smile falters slightly.

Touya taps his fingers against the wooden desk quickly whilst stumbling over his words, “W-what.. how?!”

“Elder bro broke my arm, no biggie.” You shrug- grin returning.

Touya’s mouth stays in an “o” shape as you talk, you really didn’t expect him to be so…upset?

it was only a broken arm.

You sit next to him, he tenses slightly like he always does.

“No biggie? Your arm is broken?!” He says breathlessly.

“psh-it’s barely broken!”

It’s snapped like a fragile stick when your brother pushed you.

Touya smacks his face into his palms with an annoyed groan.

You giggle loudly at Touya’s distress, truly it’s just a broken arm- no biggie.

Touya rises from his hands, looking down at the cast that’s almost filled to the brim with names.

“Where’s the pen?” He questions quietly.

You hum softly after handing the share to him, thought there’s not really enough room for Touya to write anything.

Touya grabs your forearm gently, turning it slowly trying to find the perfect spot to write something.

but there wasn’t enough room.

Touya puffs his cheeks slightly as his brows furrows, “I can’t write anything.”

You remove you arm from Touya’s grasp, seeing if you could find a spot yourself yet you were still unable to.

You sigh softly, “Sorry Touya…”

Touya crossed his arms and huffs, “it’s fine.”

“You can write your name of the next one?”

Touya pokes your bicep, “you’re not breaking your arm again.”

You in turn flick Touya forehead, “I’m not planning on it- the doctor said we’ll have to change it out at some point.”

Touya rubs the spot you flicked softly, his face stuck in a scowl.

“Don’t let anyone write on it before I do then.”

You snicker softly, reaching into your bag with your free hand to grab all of your school supplies.

“Fine-“ you mumble, “I promise, Touya.”

For a moment, you swear you could see Touya’s ears maybe go a little pink.

Could be the pain medicine though…

About a week after that conversation, your cast was requested to be replaced.

It got severely itchy and it felt soft in places- not supposed to be like that.

So your mom called to get it replaced.

The day the did actually get a new cast was on Saturday, a day where you usually don’t see Touya because he’s too concerned with his training.

One time he told you not to even bother calling because he won’t be around to answer the phone.

But you had a promise to fulfill! You don’t care Touya’s training.

Training does him no good anyways, just gives him new burns.

Your hand shakes slightly as you ring the Todorokis home phone.

Of course it rings, and rings…and rings some more.

Maybe you should’ve listened to Touya? Well he has like twenty siblings so at least one of them would answer.

except for baby shoto of course.

But, Mrs. Todoroki comes in clutch anyways! Answering the phone with her soft, sing song voice.

“Hello, This is Rei Todoroki.” She says quietly, almost like a whisper.

Your voice wavers as you speak, “u-uhm is Touya there, perchance?”

Rei stays quiet for a moment until finally speaking again, “he’s home, why?”

“Oh- this is Y/N! I-I wanted him to sign my cast.”

Rei hums, it sounds…excited! Rei must be excited it’s little old you!

“Ah I see, I’ll tell him you’re on your way.” You can practically hear the smile in her voice.

You out on your shoes as fast as you can, which isn’t fast because you only have one working hand.

Then you bike hour way down towards the Todorokis house.

It was a sixteen minute bike but it would be worth it, you’ll keep your promise to Touya no matter what.

And when you finally arrive you knock on the door to see the second oldest, Fuyumi.

You can see the surprise in her eyes when she opens the door to you, “Y/N!- wait I thought you didn’t come on Saturdays?”

You shrug your shoulders and scoot your way through the door.

You hear your feet pat the ground softly as your quickly make your way through the house, looking for that soft tuft of white hair.

Only to find it sitting down in his room.

You wave your hand, “surprise!”

Touya stares at you for a moment before speaking, “mom already told me you were coming.”

“Just pretend.” You groan softly, your small little jazz hands deflating.

Touya drums his fingers softly onto his desk, “why are you here again?”

You pout softly, “Why’re you so mean? I can make Natsuo sign my cast first yknow..”

Touya’s eyebrows raise slightly, “cast?”

“I got a new cast”

Touya extends his hand, reaching for your forearm before you pull away.

“Your design better be so fricking awesome.” Your brows furrowed.

There’s no way you waited a week just to see Touya draw some stupid sun with sunglasses.

“Sit down then.” Touya says sternly.

You sit down onto the soft pillow near the table, waiting patiently for Touya to join.

Touya joins you shortly after, grabbing your forearm and placing the sharpie onto it.

At first he draws a small cat, seems to be just a practice because he continues to draw on your cast.

You can see his tongue poke through his lips in concentration.

When you first hopped on your bike you expected to be at the Todorokis for maybe five minutes at most.

Touyas quite serious about training.

But here you are an hour later, letting Touya draw and doodle all over your cast.

And when he’s done, it covers the entire cast.

How are you supposed to let the cool kids sign your fast now?!

You see Touya puff out his chest slightly, a proud look on his face.

“You like it?” You voice slightly monotone but his face brimming with joy.

Your original cast had all of the popular kids names on it, even the high schools who hung around the school signed it.

It was like a losers trophy- proof that kids actually liked you!

In your heart it’s worth millions of dollars.

Yet, when you look down at Touya simple little doodles.

You can’t help but feel your heart swell.

The original may be worth millions- but Touya’s…

His was priceless in your eyes.

You smile, “It’s perfect, Touya.”

[cagesofgold]

BOWS - Touya Todoroki / Dabi x Reader

Touya’s never had to buy a gift before. He has vivid memories of linking flower stems together, pinching their petals at the ends with his fingers and placing them on Fuyumi’s head. Or that time he found a stray football discarded against a lamp post and brought it home beneath his shoulder for Natsuo. He had given a gift before, as he knew it.

But is that what you knew it to be?

The whiskey glass in his hand seemed to never end, the bottom tilted to one side with lashings of ice beginning to melt. Brown lurid liquid sloshing with every jolt of his hand, subconsciously anxious and consciously angered.

Touya thought he knew you pretty well. He knew that you hated mornings, and relished hot showers. He knew that your smile lit up every room you’d ever walked into and you hated cutlery against plates. He knew he could find you most often behind the bar, tucked away in the corner observing Kurogiri as he whisked around the shelves lined with liquor - your nose within a book, the pages water damaged and crinkled. He knew you loved to laugh, and hated those who took that from you. He knew you found it hysterical when Twice would perform his All Might impression, and rejoiced when Spinner would bring in fresh pork cutlet for dinner.

He knew that you loved the stars and the moon. And every celestial being within that sky, untouched by the brutalities of humanity, and holding the secrets we would always sought. You loved pointing out funky shaped clouds and insisting they looked like cats, when to Touya they just looked like blobs. You loved when he would bring you in snacks from his avid disappearances from the base, showing you were still at the front of his mind.

He knew your eyebrows would crinkle nervously when his hands would dust over yours, never wincing from their ragged appearance, but wincing from his touch. He knew you loved to dance, arms wrapped around his neck and fingers drumming along his nape to the rhythm - telling him to “Loosen up”, he never did. You never stopped telling him.

He knew that your lips were soft. He knew that they had no right to touch his, wrapped in wholehearted good meshing with the bearer of sin. He knew he shouldn’t come near you, but everyone knew that you had poisoned him from the minute you walked in that day. A shy grin tugged at your lips, intelligent and calculated words silencing dubious conceptions - and a white bow flailing behind you.

He loved those bows. You had one in every color. Some crimped, some satin, some cotton. Some with butterflies and some with strawberries. Some with small blue flames you had painted yourself and excitedly thrust into his face one day, a classical book still shoved under your arm and hair wild from the morning air.

They were apart of you as much as they were him. He was always finding little bows everywhere you went, like a trail, follow the bow, there goes Y/N.

He would never forget when he found you on the ground outside. A puddle of coalescing liquids, some crimson, some grey - seeping into your jeans as you held something crushed in your hands. Your favorite bow, doused in deep red stains - mauve accents polluting the pink stitched hem.

He knew you were upset, soul as crushed as that little piece of fabric. And as the days went by and your hair was absent of their astoundingly large presence for their size, he felt a pit of unease settle in his stomach.

The ice in the whiskey glass had melted, and Touya’s hood was pulled over his head as he transcended the steps to the front door of the bar, tugging it open with force and tearing down the streets. Each step he grew faster, careful to keep his face downcast in order to maintain his identity - to hide his scars you would always kiss. He dug his hands into his pockets, the hands you would always caress and wash, sweet whispers that he didn’t deserve, didn’t deserve for a fucking second, reassuring him that he was loved.

That you…

“Do you want that wrapped?” The cashier smacked her gum uninterestedly, bright blue eyeshadow on her waterline contrasting her dark eyes.

He nodded, keeping his voice wrapped away in the confinements of his true self that only you were allowed to see. He had some nerve, acting as if that was some kind of gift. You really had rewired his deprecating tendencies.

Cash slid across the table and the paper handles were clutched by burnt fingers, black boots sidling across squeaky linoleum floors - and a ten minute walk back to the hideout.

The moon hung low, and the stars peeked out from the blanket of black which hugged the sky. He wondered if you were looking at them, hanging out your window in that way he always hated, your laugh cutting straight through him as you glanced over your shoulder at him, that smile that went all the way up to your eyes. That smile which told him everything he begged to know his entire life. He never valued it before, and selfishly, the only reason he values it now is to make sure that smile never leaves. It stays to bless everyone who has the courtesy to see it.

His fist met your door, three raps and a slap. The order you made up whilst wrapped in a cloud of giggles, he swore to never do it. You thought differently. The door slowly creaked open, and he was met with a flood of emotions all crashing into him at once. Your eyes were deep set, rings of purple hanging below those vibrant colors he loved so much - except they’d flattened into something unrecognizable - and an instantaneous anger rose through him. Not directed at you, god, never at you.

Before his name could escape you he placed the box in your hands. Your palms were flat against the decorative box, a sweet pink fabric adorned with white ribbon. Lace lining each edge. You cocked an eyebrow, confusion clouding your eyes before he just simply tapped it with his pointer finger, shuffling around where he stood - one foot tapping against the floor.

Your gaze dropped downwards, opening the box slowly, careful and mindful of the wrapping. He found this incredibly endearing. And when you saw what was inside, saw it laying there, unspoken words between both of you laced within every stitch - He knew.

Touya thought he knew you pretty well.

He knew you loved him, and by god did he love you.

[emotionalsupportemoboys]

SOMETHING TO LIVE FOR

Just an idea I wanted to get out of my head. A quick Dabi x F!Reader where he gets the (mostly) happy ending that he deserves, god damn it. I may expand on this at some point, we’ll see. Contains vague spoilers for chapter 390.

1.2k words

You’re watching the coverage and you see the moment when Touya’s badly charred body hits the ground. You were supposed to stay away, to remain in the flanks supporting the fight, but you book it to his location; Endeavor and all the others be damned.

The Todoroki family looks on in stunned silence as you drop to your knees beside him, crying his name and begging him not to die. He can’t see you, but he can hear you, and he croaks a single, pained word, “…Doll…”

Your heart shatters.

He was your world and you were watching it slowly slipping away.

You plead for him to hang on while searching for a place to lay your hands. Even in his fractured state of mind, he knows what you’re doing and he’s afraid that you might take a lethal toll on your body by using your quirk to heal him. It probably wouldn’t even be enough to save him, you were bitterly aware of that, but it wasn’t going to stop you.

“Don’t.”

“I have to try, Touya! I love you! I love you so much! Please don’t leave me!”

He knew this. You’d told him countless times before, but even so, he’s grateful that these are the last words he ever hears. Knowing that he was truly loved tempered the pain of failing to accomplish his goal. He just wished that he could stay to love you longer, to give you the normal life that you deserved.

You pour every ounce of yourself into keeping him alive and the chaos around you eventually fades to black.

. . .

It feels like everything is over in an instant.

His eyes flutter open and he briefly experiences the same sights and sounds from the battlefield before realizing that he was somewhere else; in a brightly lit, sterile room. He didn’t recognize this place, but you were sitting beside his hospital bed, fast asleep while upright in a folding chair.

He’s so relieved to see you that bloody tears well in his eyes before spilling over onto his cheeks. You looked different, healthy, and no longer war-torn. How much time had passed?

He’s not entirely sure what he’s expecting to see when he looks down at his hands, but the fact that he has both is startling enough. It takes some effort for him to move his tired body. He touches his face and finds smooth skin where scars and staples had once been. Was he dreaming? Was he dead?

He quickly decides that he didn’t mind either option, so long as he got to stay with you. He watches you sleep for what feels like an eternity before finally reaching over to take your hand.

You were solid. Real. Warm. Familiar.

“Doll?”

You wake to the sound of his hoarse voice and, for a second, you’re half convinced you must be hallucinating.

“Touya?” Your heart leaps inside your chest. You’d been praying for this moment for so long, having fantasized about it so many times that it almost didn’t seem real.

You throw yourself at him, pulling him into a fierce hug, which he reciprocates as best he can.

“Don’t cry, Doll,” he says softly while rubbing your back.

“You’re one to talk,” you sniffle, having noticed the crimson tears on his face. “Fuck, I love you so much, I’m so glad you’re awake.” You start sobbing in spite of yourself, “I missed you.”

He clears his throat, getting choked up as he squeezes you tighter, “I love you, too. More than anything.”

You enjoy each other’s company for a while, holding each other in comfortable silence, just as you always had. This man was your best friend, your lover, your fucking soul mate. You could have sat with him in silence until the end of time and it would have been more than enough just knowing that he was still breathing.

“How long was I out?” He asks quietly, expecting you to say a few weeks, or maybe a couple months.

You pull back to look at him wearing a sad smile, “Three years.”

“What!?” He blinks at you in shock.

You nod while squeezing his hand, “Just like Sekoto Peak.”

He probably shouldn’t have been surprised, it made sense considering his previous experience, though he was in much better shape this time around. His body looked damn near brand new, but he did still have some scarring on his torso, which would forever serve as a reminder of the pain and suffering he’d endured.

Over the course of the next few days, you explain how you’d found the best healers who’d survived the war to work on him. You also gently break the news about the villains losing and Endeavor still being alive, though he’d long since retired after issuing an apology to him and their family. You assure him that his efforts hadn’t been completely in vain, as society had made some changes for the better over the last three years, and the PLF was still working underground.

He takes his time processing all of this information, not quite sure how to feel. You help him through it, rarely leaving his side.

. . .

One week later, you walk into his room and sit on the bed to take his hand. He’d been doing well. You could see him slowly starting to envision a future for himself for the first time in years and you believed it was time to press forward.

“Touya, there’s someone very special who I want you to meet.”

He looks at you curiously, and with a bit of apprehension.

You smile fondly, “I think you’ll like him. He’s a lot like you.”

He narrows his eyes, but agrees to this meeting.

You step out and return a few minutes later carrying a small boy on your hip.

Touya knows as soon as he sees him.

His heart stops, his blood runs cold, and his stomach lurches. He tells himself that it couldn’t be possible, but there was no denying what was right in front of him, and the timeline added up.

“Mama!” The toddler says sweetly, beaming while tugging on the front of your shirt. He had a mop of white hair and big, beautiful blue eyes, just like his father.

He was the most precious and yet utterly terrifying little thing that Touya had ever encountered in his life. He stares at him in awe while fighting back tears.

You move to sit in the chair beside the bed and the boy suddenly takes notice of Touya. It’s rather endearing how the two gawk at each other.

“Touya, this is Seiko,” you say softly while ruffling his messy hair.

The look of pure love and devotion on your face as you gaze at your son—his son—makes his heart swell. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he struggles to keep his emotions in check.

“The Sweepy Man,” Seiko says while pointing at Touya. “Mama, he ‘wake.”

“Yes, baby. He was asleep for a long time, but he’s finally awake. Do you wanna say hi?”

Suddenly shy, Seiko hides his face against your neck before mustering the courage to peek at the so-called Sleepy Man, whom he’d been visiting every day since birth. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Touya’s voice cracks as a single crimson tear escapes from the corner of his eye, yet he finds himself smiling. “Hi, Seiko. I’m…I’m your dad.”

[seneon]

hello :3 for the "kiss me until my lips fall off" fanfic, can i request that you make a whole oneshot on the zipping dress part? no. 4 of the post. make it fluff and suggestive hehe. take your time and ty in advance!!

SILKY RIBBONS ──── touya todoroki × fem! reader.

about. he's the man you will always find to zip and tie every of your dresses. quirkless! au. very romantic. wc of 700+

notes. for @rueclfer ♡ this is liek one of my fav requests to write ever. apart of kiss me until my lips fall off.

no matter how formal or informal the occasion, you always wear dresses without fail. especially the silken backless ones with hundreds of strings and ribbons to tie.

with those endless loops that needed to be tied behind you, of course your fingers alone aren't enough for the knots. so you will always find one man and one man alone to lend a helping hand.

today was no different than the other times. there's a party hosted by your friends that you must attend. you're all dolled up beautifully, and as usual, you couldn't do everything by yourself.

you came into the living room where your boyfriend touya is sunken in the soft couch, endlessly scrolling through his phone. his eyes left the screen upon hearing your door knob twist and you walked out.

touya could feel the corner of his lips turning into a tiny smirk at the sight of you in your new black dress that serves as a gift for you from touya himself. he knew you fancied dresses of these kind, and he simply felt the need to get you more and more of them just to see them embrace you.

the instagram reel he was watching kept playing softly in the background as he admired you from head to toe. touya is lying if he tells you his gaze wasn't exactly just the gaze of admiration. it had a hint of leering in them. his turquoise eyes just couldn't leave you in that pretty dress he has gotten for you.

“need help with the ribbons, baby?” the man finally turned his phone off, lightly tossing it aside before he properly sits on the couch as you hummed in response and turned your back to him.

“this dress is so pretty,” you said as you felt his hands resting on your hips, pulling you closer so you now stand between his legs.

“i knew you'd love it. i have immaculate taste, it seems,” his fingers moved to take hold of the ribbons on each side.

touya already knows how all these ribbons, strings and zips work from the amount of times he has to help you with your finishing touches for each different night.

“touya, you know i love every dress you buy for me, right?”

“mhm.”

“why are they all expensive and backless?”

your question elicited a chuckle from your boyfriend before he tightens the first ribbon of your dress. his fingers wrapped around the second ribbon, playing with it a little bit to feel the luxury that drips along the black silk.

“can’t ever go wrong with spoiling my pretty girl, can i?” he ceases the ribbon grazes before lining them out neatly. his fingers are full of perfected skills as usual— working so swiftly to tie the straps that ran across your back into perfect ribbons.

“besides… you look absolutely gorgeous in backless dresses. it's a shame you don't wear them only for me.”

as he uttered those words out, you felt touya pressing his lips on your bare back just below the second ribbon which he already finished tying. his palms held your hip in place before he continued to pepper kisses onto your lower back where the last round of straps hang loose, ready to be tied.

“touya, you're gonna make me late,” you whispered softly, delving in the way his lips were so gentle yet they mean so much more than he portrays.

your words put a pause to his kissing as he pulled away with a sigh, his breath fanned over the skin of your back.

“just wanna appreciate you in this…” touya murmured under his breath and finally decided to tie the last ribbon before his hands spun you around to face him.

“all done baby,” his arms moved to wrap your hips, his eyes gazing right into your own. “you’re so fucking pretty..”

a smile surfaced across your lips as you looked down at him who held onto you like a child. your fingers moved to cup touya's cheeks, thumb immediately moving to caress them in cloud-like touch.

“thank you, my love.”

in response to that, the man simply kissed your stomach, standing up to capture your lips in a kiss. however, he knew you already did your makeup, so he did not indulge in the kiss as much as he wanted to, for touya knew he wouldn't stop the moment he started.

“i’ll pick you up once you're done partying, yeah? have fun there. and.. i’ll be the one who undresses you tonight since i’m the one who got you this dress.”

every ribbons has to come undone, including your own ribbon that touya just simply knows how to untie.

© SENEON 2024 ♱ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[b3ach-bunn7]

IS IT CASUAL NOW? PT 2

The aftermath of you finally ending things with Touya.

—————————————————————————-

It’s hot. So hot that it’s all Touya can think about.

Touya sighs. He can lie so easily, but unfortunately never to himself. He’s not wearing a shirt, just the thinnest pair of shorts he owns. The rickety fan he’d stolen from his dad’s place is pissing him off more than it’s cooling him down. The Todoroki’s all ran hot, Touya the worst. It was a curse passed down from his father and Touya just loved how alike the two of them were. In the winter he wore a hoodie at best, and in the summer he melted. It’s why he found himself in your bedroom on the night/ he couldn’t sleep. You were so cool, your bedroom so still. It’s the only reason he did it. It was nothing to do with you.

Lying again. Touya wishes he could just erase you from his brain sometimes. Cut out the last two years of his life, forget all of it. Because that’s when it started. Not when he met you, but when he started feeling. It’s why he proposed the whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing. Too scared to own up to anything but separate enough he’d do anything to get the chance to touch you. He thinks forgetting might be easier than admitting he has feelings for you. But you’ve embedded yourself in everything. He thinks if he slips far enough in his duvet he’ll smell you, that sweet perfume that drives him crazy. There’s a sock too girly and pink to be his on the floor. Pictures of you he hasn’t hung up but burn holes in the bottom of his closet. And Shoto’s incessant nagging to see you again.

It’s been two weeks and three days since he’s last seen you. Touya doesn’t think he’s gotten a good nights sleep since. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the bags under his eyes and the ache of his bones, Shoto is determined to remind him every second of every day. Asking where she is, why isn’t she coming over anymore, how did he ruin it. It’s beyond him how a six year old can read the room so well but that’s besides the point.

You were good with Shoto, though. He remembers the first time you’d met him. He’d walked in on you throwing him in the air and the brat was laughing. He barely did that with him, let alone with a stranger he’d never met. And it stirred something in him. Like maybe one day he could have that with you. A little kid that looks like him, or has that same smile as you. So bright he can’t even look at you for too long.

Touya sits up abruptly. Maybe a cold shower will help. He saunters to the bathroom and raps on the door.

“Occupied!” Fuyumi’s voice rings out. He hears the rush of water and he curses under his breath.

“Hurry up.”

“Shut up, I haven’t even started yet.”

Fuyumi took ages in the shower. All girls did and he had no idea why. You took forever. He could hear you singing sometimes. You didn’t sound the best but you were enjoying yourself. At least when you were taking ages he could join you. That’s when Touya found you the most attractive. Water running down your back, hair slicked back. He loved it the most when you used his shampoo, when you smelt like him. He could close his eyes and pretend for a moment you were somewhere else, just the two of you. That you were together.

He can’t help it. Touya can try to distract himself but it all ends up with you.

Your face. Tears rolling down them, ones he put there. He wanted to comfort you. Tell you that he didn’t think you were just somebody he fucked. It killed a little part of him to say that to you because he could see how much it hurt you. Physically see something inside you change and the tears that had been welling in your eyes finally falling. The way you’d stormed out. The fact you’d removed him from everything, every social media, even Spotify. His message pinging back the one time he tried to text you. The fact you’d called him Todoroki.

The issue is, Touya is cursed. It’s right there in his last name. Todoroki. You knew, of course. You knew all about his father. He’d sat you down once in the back of his car. Each of you with your backs against the window, a pack of gummy bears split open in front of you. And he showed you. Showed you each scar that his father had left at his hands. And then after that, Touya had told you everything. About his mother. About how he treated her. How he hit her, yelled at her. Made her cry like he’d made you cry.

That’s the harsh reality Touya has to face.Because unfortunately for him, he’d spent most of his life with his father. Thirteen long years with him, more than enough time to pick up all those horrible traits the man harboured. Touya was always the most like him. Short temper, quick to argue. And he’d read about it, too. Poured over psychology books and articles when the worries got too bad. Your childhood is where your character was built apparently, where your habits were learnt. Where you’re moulded into the person you’ll grow up to be, all based on the way your parents raised you. And it didn’t take a genius to realise his hadn’t been that good.

And if all that he’d seen was true, then Touya couldn’t do that to you. Couldn’t be his father. You were so perfect. You were way too good for him, for all the shit he’d bring you. You didn’t deserve to put up with that. And he knew you wouldn’t listen if he told you that so he had to get rid of you the only way he knew how.

But god, did he indulge in it. In you. Touya didn’t think you’d notice, that it was that obvious. How he couldn’t help but kiss you so tenderly. How he’d hold you any chance he got, had acted bothered when you got along so well with his family. Touya wasn't strong enough not to enjoy you while he had you.

He decides to go downstairs. The house feels stagnant. The windows are open and the curtains his mother had fashioned out of old clothes fluttered in the little wind that blew in from outside. The house was so much smaller than their old one but Touya felt like he could breathe here. It was crazy how much different life was without his father. How free they felt, the weight on his family’s shoulders gone.

His mothers in the kitchen. She’s making bread, he thinks, judging by the flour dusted all over the kitchen. They’re allowed to leave messes like this now. Touya opens the fridge, eyes closing at the cold air that blasts in his face. He grabs a coke. The can cools his palms and he’s half tempted to use it as an ice pack.

“Touya, come help me for a second.” His mother says. He glances over at her. Her hands are white with flour and she points to the bag of it beside her.

“Pour some for me.” Touya sighs, slightly, but listens. He turns to leave once she’s done but she stops him.

“Stay for a bit. Keep your mother company.” She pouts. Touya sighs. This time loudly. He sits down regardless. He takes another drink and the coke tastes like you, the two of you arguing, and he leaves it to the side.

“How have you been, Touya?”

“Fine.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Her voice isn’t stern but it has that mother tone to it that Touya, even at eighteen, can’t compete with.

“What do you want me to say?” He snaps. She doesn’t answer. Just point/ again.

“More flour please.” Touya pours more. He puts the bag down with a little more force than necessary.

“I’m your mum, Touya. I know when you’re not okay. And I’ve also noticed much less of Y/N around the house.”

Touya shakes his head. “This- it’s nothing to do with her.”

“So there is something wrong?” His mother is smiling slightly, proud of herself.

“Wow. So intuitive, mum.”

She sighs. She dusts off her hands on her apron. As annoying as she’s being, Touya can’t help but love it. It was rare she spoke much when his father was around and he finally feels like he’s learning who she is now that he’s gone.

“You two break up?”

“We were never together.”

His mother perks an eyebrow. “Really? In my day, two people hooking up were considered together.”

“Ew- Mum!” He wrinkles his nose. “Don’t- that’s disgusting.”

“I’m not stupid, you know.”

“Well, it’s over. We- She ended things.”

She furrows her brows. “Well that’s not right.”

“What do you mean?”

His mum hums. “Well. She loves you. Why would she end things if she loves you?”

Touya’s eyes are fixed on the table. He shakes his head. “No. She doesn’t love me.”

“She does.”

“Well, she shouldn’t!” He stands up. Runs a hand through his hair and it feels like yours, and he pulls it back like he’s burnt.

His mother is calm. Just watching him. “And why not?”

“Because- because. You know why, mum.” His voice sounds so weak. So pathetic. If only his father could see him now.

“I don’t. Tell me.”

“I-I can’t do it to her, mum. It’s not fair on her.” Touya says.

“But why?”

“Because why if I’m like him?”

His voice cracks, splinters his words in half. His mum looks at him then, like she might cry. There’s something in her face he can’t decipher but it’s out there. He’s said it, the thing that keeps him up at night, that eats at him.

“Honey, you’re not like him.”

“But what if I am?” So pathetic. He feels the prickle of tears and he hates how easily he cries, always has, ever since he was a kid.

“We don’t know. I’ve never been in a relationship, not a real one. What if- what if I was with her and I hurt her. Like he hurt you. I can’t do that to her, mum.”

She storms forward then. Her hands, still floury, grasp his shoulders. Touya should protest but he doesn’t, not when her touch grounds him. It always has.

“You listen to me, you are not your father.”

“What if I am? I’m the most like him, we all know it.”

She shakes her head. “No, honey, you’re not. I spent 15 years with that man. And you are nothing like him. You’re kind and you care for me and your siblings. For the people you love. He never did. And your anger, it’s superficial. You’d never hurt anyone. I know you wouldn’t.”

Touya doesn’t say anything. Just listens.

“Don’t let him ruin your life. I should’ve left sooner, for you. For all of your siblings.”

“Don’t blame yourself, mum.”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s no longer here, honey. Don’t let him ruin your life even when he’s not in it.”

Touya breathes in shakily. Wipes at his face furiously. “Okay.”

She rubs his shoulder. Smiles, something bittersweet. “Good boy. Now go talk to Y/N.”

Touya nods. “Okay.”

“And put a shirt on before you go.” He watches his mum's eyes linger on the scars across his body. She turns away and so does he.

“I will.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

—————

You hate romcoms. Such stupid awful movies, you think.

Your friends had been over earlier in the day but you wanted to be alone. You’re trying to distract yourself by watching your favourite movies, eating shitty snacks. The issue is, all your favourite movies are about love. Perfect, sappy romances that end with kiss and sex in someone’s bedroom. You hate it. It’s doing nothing but reminding you of him.

Scum. Awful. Horrible. You hope that maybe if you call him enough names in your head you’ll get over him. Or maybe if you eat enough chocolate. At least Noah Centineo looks good in this movie. His peak, you like to think.

A knock at the door stirs you out of your thoughts. You were going to ignore it, but the knocking gets more frantic, and you swear, pushing through the pile of tissues you were sitting in.

“Alright, I’m coming.”

You don't bother cleaning yourself up. You couldn’t care less who’s on the other side of the door.

“You can chill out, okay, the door is not going any-“

Touya. Touya is standing at your door. While you look like absolute shit. But you don’t care. You shouldn’t care. Touya looks worse. His hair is all tussled and you know he’s been messing with it. He always does when he’s bothered by something. His eyes are a little red and you think he may have been crying.

“Fuck off.” You go to slam the door in his face but he puts an arm out.

“Please, wait. Can we talk?”

“Sorry, I’m not in the mood to fuck you. And that’s all I’m for, right?” You smile viciously, and push against the door. He won’t let it go though.

“Y/N, I was wrong. Just let me explain, and-“

“Explain what?” You fling the door open and he falls back slightly.

“Explain what, Touya? It’s been two weeks, and now you want to explain?”

He swallows. “I should’ve come sooner.”

“Yeah, you should’ve.”

“I was wrong. About everything.” He pleads, inching closer to the door.

You breathe heavily. You rub your eyes furiously and start walking away.

“Come on then.” You snap.

Touya obeys. He walks in quickly before you can change your mind. You sit down on the couch and he sits next to you. It’s silent for a moment. You don’t look at him. You can’t because you know if you do, you’ll forgive him in a second.

“You home alone?” He asks.

You pick at your cuticles. A bad habit you can’t crack. “Yes.”

You think Touya nods. You don’t want to look and check. You pull too hard and one of them starts bleeding.

“Don’t do that.” He says softly, pushing your hands apart. His skin is warm and you pull your hands into your lap. You shake your head.

“What do you want?”

“I love you.”

Touya speaks the words quickly. Like you did before, like he’s going to explode if he doesn’t get them out. You do look at him then, and he’s already looking at you. Eyes wide, so blue and searching you think he might be looking into your soul.

“You- You what?” Your voice almost comes out in a whisper.

“I love you. I always did. You were right, you’re not just somebody I fuck. I-i didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.” His voice cracks.

“Then- Why did you say all that stuff then? Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

The two of you turn, move closer to cover. You don’t even notice, not until his knees are touching yours and that cologne he always uses, woodsy and cool, tingles your senses.

“I was scared. I am scared. I’ve never done this before, Y/N.” He looks down for a second. Looks back up at you.

“I was scared that. That I'd be like my father. End up as cruel as he was. I couldn’t put you through that.”

And it makes sense then. Slowly you piece it all together. Why he sent you such mixed signals. Why he was so distant with you and yet so close, always one step from taking things too far.

“Oh, Touya.” You grab his hand, and it’s warm. It always is.

“I know it’s stupid. But I watched him torment my mother for 13 years. And. What if I was like him? I couldn’t deal with it. It drove me crazy. Every time I got close to you, I’d freak out and I’d pull back.”

You squeeze his hand and he grabs it with both of his, squeezing back.

“I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t mean what I said, none of it. I swear.”

You breathe shakily. “You didn’t?”

“Of course I didn’t. I love you. That I mean.”

You stare at him. Part of you whispers that you shouldn’t trust him. A small part of you that’s still angry he let you wallow for two long weeks with no effort, no contact. But the rest of you. The rest of you is looking at Touya. Who has tears threatening to fall if he blinks just once more, who’s hands are shaking in your own. Touya, who told you everything, had cut himself open and shown you every part of himself he’d hidden from the world. And despite how angry you are, were, you can’t deny that.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me straight away. I understand, I said some really shitty things to you. But fuck, please. Give me a chance to fix this.” He whispers.

Before you can even think you press your lips to his. His hand, soft and calculated, reaches up to cup your cheek and it spurs you into action. You practically fall on him, one hand grabbing his shirt and the other carding through his hair. Oh, and it’s as soft as you remember, white curls tangling in your fingers as you sigh into his mouth. You're straddling his lap now and his back presses against your couch. Touya makes a noise, then, something desperate. He breaks apart and the two of you are breathless. He stares at you for a second before his lips are kissing your jaw, down your neck. He sucks a mark on the spot between your neck and your shoulder and you shiver.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I missed you so much.” He whispers into your skin.

You laugh slightly, and pull him away. “Easy, Touya. I don’t forgive you that much.”

He looks hopeful, despite the blatant rejection of his advances. “So you forgive me?”

You hum, fingers tracing over his skin. “Yeah. I do. Just because I miss Shoto, though.”

He snorts. Places a kiss on your forehead, your cheek. “Good. The little brat won’t shut up asking about you.”

“Really?”

“Don’t look so excited. I saw you first.”

You giggle, falling besides him. You lean into his arm, one leg tangling with his. It’s so simple, so easy to fall into the same routine. You think you should maybe be madder, but you can’t. Not at Touya. You think of the faces of your friends from earlier today and you wince.

“Look, I forgave you pretty easy, but you’re gonna have to put some in work with my friends. You can’t just kiss their anger away.” You raise an eyebrow and he tilts his head.

“You sure?”

“Don’t push it.”

—————————————————————————

guys I physically can’t have angst without a happy ending sorry not sorry 🙈 also plz leave me requests I’m aching to write but I have no idea what!!

[dabisbratz]

ᥫ᭡ — PUSH IT FOR THE PLEASURE

dabi | touya todoroki x male reader (drabble)

w.c: 0.4k

WARNING: impact play, face-slapping, boot-humping, degradation, dirty talk, slight choking, daddy kink (title used 1 time), slight objectification

a/n: not my most confident work.. but it’s kinda hard to put all my scrambled thoughts abt this into words):<

Dabi loves boys like you, mindbroken and dumb enough to grind against his boot with shameless, pathetic excuses you call hip rolls. He loves the area of skin where thigh meets hip, the swell of your thighs pooling there with every to and fro movement, smearing your juices across the leather of his stolen platforms. He likes the obvious dynamic between the two of you, your pretty body naked and vulnerable as he remains clothed, holding onto your neck with warm palms and fingers.

Dabi loves watching your lips part, shiny and swollen from sucking his dick, like they’re meant to, small huffs of air floating around until it’s indistinguishable, mixed with the wet squelch from between your thighs. Always so smart, quick to correct him when you can, even if you both know you’re wrong. His lips split into a sick grin, staples pulling at his milky skin until it hurts, all sharp teeth and predatory gazes. You’ve always looked better like this, teary eyed and bruised.

“Do something for me, sugar. Show Daddy his favorite hole. Hold it open for me.”

Dabi loves making you hook your fingers into your mouth, fingertips pressed into the silky, smooth surface of the insides of your cheeks. He makes you pull your mouth open, tongue ejected and glistening with your drool as he stares down your throat, cooing when you blink up at him for approval.

“Maybe I should just finger your mouth. Just as wet and messy as your hole, isn’t it? Think it’ll squeeze around me too?”

Dabi loves ignoring you, opting for a harsh tap against your warm cheek. He holds you still, save for your hips, keeps your head steady so you don’t get whiplash. He starts off gentle, a large thumb caressing your cheekbone until it’s pulled away, just to return with a loud smack! and a resounding burn. You look pretty like this, his pretty boy, bracing for impact just a few seconds too late. He chuckles at your gasps, voice raspy and hushed as he rubs the attacked area.

“Aw, does it hurt? Yeah? Then why're you grinding harder?”

Dabi loves pushing you around, grabbing you by the hair to reposition your face against his bulge, pressing your face impossibly close to the protrusion, suffocating you until all you can breathe in is him. His staples catch strays of your hair, but you don’t mind, his hand reaching up to pat your head in approval. The feeling of your face, damp with tears, pressed against his clothed dick as you whine has him reeling, puffs of smoke slipping through his teeth as he sharply exhales.

“Can take—”

“Hush, boy. I know what you can take.”

[cryoutloxd]

A little Gift ,,

Giving a gift to Touya because it's his birthday :3 cw: mdni, Oral (m receiving), gn reader. reader is hinted to be a virgin. smoking. sub/dom dynamics? slight degradation: dabi calls reader a slut so yeah. nsfw under the cut!! lower case intended. sorry for typos, not proofread ;(

birthdays... it wasn't really something he believed in, or well.. wanted to be celebrated. at least for himself, he knows you like these little moments of happiness that some celebrations and holidays bring. but him personally? nah, before you he hardly memorized the dates.

but he's goddamn happy that you're here to celebrate his birthday with him.

—

"oh fuck.. you knew how to do this stuff?" his voice is raspy, more than usual as he blows smoke into the air. his eyes are closed and his head's thrown back from the amount of pleasure your mouth is bringing him. your lips are wrapped around his cock so deliciously that he's starting to wonder if you practiced with that dildo he bought for you.

while you can only hum around his thickness, you bat your eyelashes, then closing your eyes and taking his cock in as deep as you could. "s-shiiittt..~ good doll, doing so good.. trained you well, huh?" he chuckles, wrapping his fingers around the roots of your hair, pulling on it to make you choke on his dick. the noises you're making is just sooo amusing to him, he never knew you were capable of such things. "look at you, choking on my dick like a little slut.. ahh fffu-uck..~ just like that."

seeing your face ruined with your own spit and tears makes him lose his mind, wanting nothing more than to bend you over in bed and take you until both your bodies were sore and pained.

his grip on your hair tightens, his thighs shaking slightly as his other hand covers your cheeks, taking your face in his hand like a fleshlight and fucking into your throat as if his life depends on it. he groans, a deep one at that as he throws his head back again, holding you still as his cum shoots down your throat without a warning. "oh fuck! take it.. take it all ahh fffuck..!"

he pants, yanking you back by your hair and staring at your fucked up face. he laughs, stroking your cheeks as a mixture of his cum and your spit dribbles down from the corner of your lips. "shit.. that was hot." he smiles as you congratulate him for his birthday one more time, pulling you up to kiss your forehead. "a happy birthday indeed... thanks doll"

"now, face down, ass up.. i wanna see what else you can do."

thanks for reading <3 likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated!

[lilacgaby]

CAN I REQUEST A TOUYA FIC IN WHICH HE'S RLY RLY INSECURE AND THEN FINALLY HE CRIES ONE DAY (he has damaged tear glands, remember) AND BLEEDS HIS EYES OUT WHILE CONFESSING THAT HE LIKES US AND HE ACTS LIKE HE HATES US SO THAT WE CAN BE WITH SOMEONE BETTER.

title: better 4 u

pairing: reversecomfort!touya x reader

summary: touya didn't deserve you, he knew there was someone out there better for you.

note: touya makes me so sad :(( like why was he doomed from childhood

as he stared at his scarred face in the mirror, eyeing the roses and chocolates he'd picked out for you, he felt disgusted. he didn't even know how you stood to exist near him, he hated the sight of himself as he passed by puddles, hated the burning on his skin in the rain, even sun would cause him discomfort.

how could you love him if he could barely love himself?

he threw the roses and gift for you on the ground, gripping his head in anger. the sudden noise made you rush to his room and knock on the door.

at the lack of an answer, you still walked in, confused at the items on the ground. "..touya? you okay?"

as he looked at you, he felt small again. he felt judged and he hated it. "go away." he grunted, not looking over at you.

he felt the tears start to accumulate in his eyes, curse his sensitive nature. but you didn't leave, you never seemed to, you walked closer to him and held his hand. his scarred hand stained with blood that would never wash off.

"what's wrong?" how dare you? how dare you make him burst into tears, the blood staining his face and dripping onto the floor as he resisted the urge to start wailing.

his body wracked with sobs as you hugged him close to you. why did you even bother? he was a broken mess.

you led him to sit on his bed, you beside him soothing him, you hadn't said a word yet, waiting for him to speak first. and if he didn't? you wouldn't push it. you never did.

"did something happen?" you asked, rubbing his arm and dabbing at his tears softly.

he shook his head, not trusting his voice right now.

"is it about someone?" he nodded.

"is it about.. me?" his breath hitched and you knew you were right. you brought him closer to you, confused on how you'd upset him.

"yes." he finally said under his breath. "why.. why do you even help me? why are you even with me right now? you could so much better."

you tilted his head up to yours and planted a peck on his lips. "touya, you are the best for me. i love you, not anyone else. don't think that about yourself."

he sniffled, and suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him.

he didn't feel worthy of your love, but he'd accept it anyway.

"were those flowers on the ground meant for me?"

"...yes."

he knew you loved him in the way you still took care of those wilted flowers and accepted the chocolates that hadn't been on the ground.

he knew you loved him as you held him to sleep and soothed the burning in his skin,

but you set his soul aflame, and he'd love you for that.

[sweetheartsaku]

(BHNA) REAL MAN.

𝜗𝜚 TOUYA TODOROKI: 𝓑LOOD SAGE.

a/n: [fem!reader] touya meet not-so-cute 🤍 for @seneon the only touyalvr ever and @katsukistofu's fav fire hazard 😔✊!!

a cold wisp floods the concrete path, tickling your ankles through your thick boots. deafening music mixes with distant police sirens and train blares, loud synthesisers muffle between agape windows and violent yet causal chatter. bustling, late-night city life pulsates through your ears.

you aloofly roam past unique, ominous quirks with boomboxes and strobe lights, knives and blades as if it’s purely a walk in the park. instead of cute dogs they were rabid, probably radioactive creatures. instead of lush trees, there were blinding neon lights. there was probably cursed chemicals concocted in the air too, but if it didn’t kill you, who cares? did everyone just come to forget how easy villain life can be, if you just— made it look easy?

the concrete beneath you is damp, puddles of water in every dent and crease of the ground, water trickling off stall roofs and rain runs down your cheek. the cold winter breeze makes it difficult for a nearby crook to light his cigarette, causing him to throw it on the ground, mercilessly crushing the warm cigarette butt with his heel.

you watch as the rando does his work, slowly proceeding to walk along. you find yourself a couple buildings away from the man, looking up at the flickering, slanted sign that read: “SIX TO MIDNIGHT.” the light on all the vowels faded out.

“watch it, doll.”

you turn around and your eyes meet a pair of vibrant turquoise ones. —what’d he just call me?

the mysterious ravenette chuckles before he sees your fists slightly clench, but facial expression remain the same.

“woah. touched a nerve there.” to then gently shoving you out of the doorway, palms heating up; leaving ash on your shoulder before slipping through. you lose him in the crowd within the classy bar, the scent of alcohol with strong cologne filling your senses and gag reflex at the tip of your tongue.

get the money, get out.

your client is one of the most successful and most popular in the area, but at what cost? payment pickup at the worst, most crowed bar, only available at the peak number of drinkers and villains, at the smack-bang very centre of the bar. being one of the best assassins had its perks, and this definitely wasn't one of them.

can’t believe i beat ass just for a little gain in a pig's den.

you never felt the need to grab a beverage while your inside though. you just feel the need to get in and out as fast as possible every time, so how could this time be any different?

his turquoise eyes haven’t left you. that's what.

his piercing yet agile gaze remains on your figure. he didn’t stand out in height, nor costume. but what slightly piqued your interest was his burnt flesh stuck together with staples and oh don’t forget his undeniably enchanting, teal eyes.

you decide to ignore it, but why can't you bring yourself to take the last step out the door? the money is in your hand, the bar’s atmosphere is still lingering with alcohol, and your first impression didn't seem close to a fairytale.

was this that stupid gut feeling of danger heroes have when their sixth sense ignites? oh please, forgive me for thinking it's a fleeting romance.

a dim purple light shades an area in a nearby corner, instantly attracting your on-edge figure. naturally pivoting to the nearest empty seat, the unsettling feeling seeps in as you manspread, taking as much space as you could crossing your legs. your gloved arms reclined on the backrest behind you, sighing as this funny feeling echoes through your head. the leg beneath the one you crossed it over begins to bounce by habit. you brush loose droplets of rain off your shoulder. your mind runs to places. your hands tightly grip th-

"our first encounter was pretty abrupt, huh, doll? slow dance it out on the floor?"

you quickly react to the same mysterious man who once had his eyes glued on you, now in front of you. you cockily smirk before retorting,

"no one ever taught you to be a real man, huh, handsome?"

he chuckles as he extends his hand, brushing the end of his coat as it drifts behind him. your gloved hand that once tightly gripped the backboard of the seat instinctually clasps his. he promptly pulls you up, finding yourself with one hand on his shoulder and the other lightly laced with his. his other hand finds its respectable spot on your waist, fingers sprawled against your plush side.

"what should i call you, hm?" she stares at his lips before her glare moves up to his eyes.

their bodies were so close and nearing to pressing each other. this was not a good rep for a prestigious assassin like you. the proximity clicks your senses back on finer than before, his sage cologne fusing with the scent of blood and smoke.

"touya. you?"

"pretty name, touya. couldn't keep your eyes off me before?"

"you're a peculiar one, aren't you?" he snickers.

"interesting. not peculiar." you correct.

you continue. "gonna answer my question?"

his grin cocks up as he watches your smirk form with stitched eyebrows. your hand slowly moves from his shoulder to behind his neck, fingers brushing the hairs on his nape. your grip on his intertwined hands become tighter.

"getting eager, are we?"

locked eyes, tight proximity and brash yet romantic words have got to be one of the worst combinations known to man right now. a rosy blush warmly spreads across your face, (hopefully) hardly visible under the dim cold lights.

would you hold it down and take it if I gave you a chance?

he feels every inch of you, from the hand slightly grazing the back of his neck to the soft skin underneath thick material of your gear. heat arises from every place, the warm, tender tension stirring within both of you.

need the reassurance, baby,

not a silly romance.