touyatakeover - Tumblr blog

touyatakeover · 4 months

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this is driving me crazy rn omg😭

i need him so bad i’m about to start shaking and crying

Like a Candle at Both Ends.

includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. smut.

warnings— sub!keigo. reader uses a strap. double penetration with a twist. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. dacryphilia. cum as lube. slight feminization (of keigo). slight degradation. some brattiness. face-sitting mentioned.

In which you blow the birthday boy's back out like a candle. Topping Keigo with a fleshlight underneath him, that way he gets so overwhelmed he cries. ♡

You're at least ninety percent sure Keigo won't remember a damn word he says, tomorrow.

It's a pity, truly, that his gorgeous babbles of incoherency that entertain you aplenty in bed will only live on in your memories; but you suppose you can't really blame him. It would be difficult for any man to remain focused in this situation— let alone one who gets as lost in the floaty depths of subspace as Hawks.

You've always known your boyfriend to have a penchant for indulgence. If the tabloids get one thing at least half-correct, it's that Keigo is quite the glutton for satisfying his baser urges.

Tabloids call him a foodie. They snap pictures of him at different restaurants every afternoon during his usual two o'clock lunch breaks, sinking his teeth into delicacies with a moan, only to wash it down with the most caffeinated coffee he can get his mitts on.

And those same tabloids write adorable little periodicals about how their media darling just loves a little something to eat.

But you know better.

The reality is, it's more that Keigo is simply a brat who likes to indulge. He likes to be pleased.

He likes to fill and be filled, to stuff and be stuffed; but you don't blame them for not reading between the lines, there. You suppose you do have the unfair advantage of seeing him make that same, satisfied face after you've milked his cock to empty itself past the point of shooting blanks.

If anyone on this earth is privy to a crucial little piece of information the rest of the world doesn't know, it's you. The paparazzi that flock like vultures outside local diners in the hopes of catching the number two may snap pics of him smiling to himself as he digs in, but they don't have the slightest idea what else Keigo likes to sink his teeth into.

Namely: your neck, if he's lucky; cock throbbing in your vice grip, on days you grant him permission to teethe at your skin until the splotches of color from his marks settle like satisfaction in his chest.

But mostly— and especially, on nights like tonight— the revered, dignified hero Keigo Takami just sinks his teeth into the pillow like a goddamn whore.

Right now, as Keigo lays on his front and bites back some rather pathetic sounds, the plush pillow beneath him is looking unbearably chewable to his eyes. Your delicate hand is reaching around his body like a serpent, snaking underneath his pelvis to grip his sensitive length so carefully in your palm; and the man below you is beginning to suspect he might need another outlet for his sexual frustrations, soon.

"I c-can do that myself," he releases the pillow and sputters, though his body doesn't protest in the slightest. In fact, his hips arch away from the toy positioned below, in order to allow you rightful access to his cock.

"Yeah, obviously," you answer with a squint, sliding your fingers along his length. "But I want to do it for you, so I will. Are you complaining, Kei'?"

"Mm. No," he hums the right answer, shifting comfortably to rest his cheek against the pillow and settle his weight on his knees. "But I might start complaining if you don't hurry it up. I don't take this long when I put it in you," he whines, smushing his cheek further into the fluff to resist the temptation to look down. He doesn't flinch a bit when you thread your fingers through his hair in response, practically petting him.

Still, Keigo sighs in pleasure rather than dissatisfaction when he shuts his eyes. He can't deny that your soft skin feels incredible on his cock, crackling with electric charge; but the fleshlight trapped beneath his hips is enticingly lubed and ready for him, and that simple fact is causing him to grow impatient. The way you're rubbing his tip against its entrance doesn't help in the slightest. It feels more agonizing than pleasurable, at this point.

"Stop playing with it and put it inside already," he groans.

"Aww," you coo. "Are you feeling pent up today, Keigo?"

It's meant to be a tease, but the response you get is heartbreakingly genuine.

"A little bit, yeah," Keigo answers truthfully, cocking his head to the side for a second. His neck pops with the motion, achingly, and he cracks his neck the other way to make it look intentional. Still on his belly, he crosses his elbows and tucks his chin atop his arms.

Keigo looks genuinely fatigued when he blinks. Black lashes rest on his cheekbones a little longer than usual today, and you're aware that the only thing hiding his prominent eye bags is a few layers of expensive, caked-on concealer.

You swallow a pang of resentment at the sight.

Next year, you'll be sure to make a few phone calls with some choice words and demands you refuse to budge on.

Somehow, the urge to spit an uncharacteristically shrill "let me speak to your manager" over the phone to some HPSC bigshot isn't quite as strong as the urge to spoil Keigo tonight, instead; to make your baby forget the press interviews his handlers drag him to, around this time every year. The meetups, the galas— even those photoshoots you're silently a bit thankful for because he looks so irritatingly handsome in them.

You take out your irritation on his wings, gripping the sensitive primaries in one fist. To his delight, you begin to stroke the sensitive, silky bristles along the sides of his feathers, teasing them with your fingertips.

"Woah, woah, woah," Keigo smirks. The plumage of his wingspan preens with the attention, arching into your touch like a purring, spoiled housecat. "Easy there, doll. What's gotten into you today— oh, fuck me."

The moan dies down into a pleased rumble in his chest; and before he knows it, his hips arch just like his glorious wings, grinding his backside against the pretty, pink appendage strapped to your hips by a few medieval-looking buckles.

"Nothing," you lie. "Just wanted to shut you up, but it's not working all that well."

"Liar," he snides. "You know that makes me loud, baby."

"Wasn't exactly trying to hide that, but nice try."

Your palm finally guides his tip into the toy, slipping it deep inside while he sighs in momentary relief.

But the relief is just that. Momentary.

Keigo's hardly bottomed out for a dozen seconds before he's whining and trying to press himself back against the tip of your strap, too.

"Oh my god," you laugh genuinely, dumbfounded by how quickly he begs for the next little indulgence on the list. You're too busy popping the lid of a plastic tube and drizzling your strap with lube to babysit him; so for now, you ignore his whorish little display for attention.

"You want it that bad, already," you ask, slicking the length and plopping the tip against his fluttering rim, giving him a few lovetaps.

"Yeah," he smiles, deliriously. "Wanna feel you fucking against my prostate. Give it to me."

Cheeky. On another day, you'd deny him strap altogether for acting like he doesn't need to do anything to earn it.

"Tell me if anything feels weird," you say instead, kissing his shoulder once while you grip the tip in one hand, pressing it against his hole. "Does it feel okay?"

"Mm, yeah," he rolls his shoulders. "But can you, uh, let me just lay here a little, at first? You know, while you do your thing?"

Keigo shakes his hips in an attempt to look enticing with the shameless request. "I'll be really good. Promise."

"You're such a fucking pillow princess," you accuse as you slide inside his already prepped hole and begin to move; and just as quickly as you utter it, the pseudo-insult backfires in the form of a high pitched, utterly pleased moan below you.

"I-I can be your princess," Keigo immediately agrees, with some nods alongside each of your thrusts. When you sink into him, he sinks his teeth further into the pillow than his mind sinks to delirium— deeper than his pride sinks down to a new low.

"I'm yours, I'm your princess," Keigo repeats. "I'm your fucking princess," he moans, reaching one hand back to claw those delicately manicured fingernails into the meat of your thigh. Each nail is meticulously cut, shaved down like the hair on his lithe body and painted an iridescent gold to match his eyes under your bedroom light.

It's whiny when he pleads, "fuck me"— and it sounds even more pathetic when he squeals it.

With every infuriatingly slow thrust of your hips, Keigo makes a show of displaying his greed. He drags you into him, vice-grip in one hand locked in your flesh to pull it flush into his. His other hand busies itself clutching the drool-soaked pillow against his bare chest for stability.

You treat him delicately, fucking him too slow for him to even think of blowing his load? Oh, that makes him growl through his teeth.

"Just blow my back out, already!" He practically mopes, cock still throbbing in his toy. You can hear the purse of Keigo's lips, his adorable, jutted bottom lip that you're certain is wobbling at this point.

"C'mon," he grits. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that you should, like… Keep your promises? They're no good if you don't, y'know."

There are only a few days in the year Keigo is allowed to act out like this, and he'll be damned if he doesn't capitalize on them to the fullest.

The brat's gonna put you in an early grave at this rate, you think. You may not be able to punish him today, but you certainly can give him exactly what he wants.

And when you do give him what he wants, the reality becomes abundantly clear: he can't actually handle it.

When you speed up, he pants like a dog— or, more aptly given this pretty little position, dripping submission and precum while he gets his ass stuffed, face down— Keigo pants like a bitch.

For god knows how long, at that.

With his tongue far too heavy for his mouth, he resorts to whimpering into the pillow— his poor little crutch. The fleshlight is still squished between his pelvis and the bed, so every thrust you grind against his ass milks his cock, too. It's impossible to keep his head clear and focused when he's stimulated on all fronts; but bless him, Keigo does try.

He tries so hard, pathetically, to focus through the sounds of his lubed cock rubbing against the wet silicone, through the full feeling stuffing his insides at the same time.

Yet even still, it's not enough for him. He snarls in frustration as he shoves his hand between his thighs to adjust the cocksleeve, angled so he can stuff more of his cock in it, enveloped down to his base and pressing near-painfully against his balls.

Fuckin' perfect, he sighs, finally able to direct his attention to his lovely partner digging out his guts from behind.

"Make me your b-b—" He starts and trails off, brows pinched with effort. "Make me yours," he corrects.

Oh? You tuck that little tidbit away.

You suppose it's been countless minutes since you began railing the poor, whimpering pup beneath you. That is, if you were to judge by the rasp in his voice that builds each time he cries his heart out.

Keigo is, despite it all, a very, very good boy. He gives you his visual cues when he feels that telltale tingling in the swollen, blushing tip of his cock; the one that lets him know how close he really is to bursting along the edge. He tenses his already defined muscles and looks back at you with the cutest puppydog eyes, just to make sure you know he's close.

"I'm gonna cum," he warns verbally, too.

But you don't stop.

If his muscles weren't tense enough before, they certainly are now.

"Baby?" Keigo near-panics, turning a bit to gaze up at you pleadingly. Your floral bed sheets twist into spirals under each of his fists, wrung in a manner not unlike his cock. "Baby, I-I said I was gonna cum."

"Yeah, I heard you the first time." You peer down your nose and eye the bead of sweat that slithers down his neck.

You watch the tremble of Keigo's hips as he does his best to keep his position poised like a prized showdog, dutifully still. He resists the urge to meet your strokes, instead offering every scrap of control to you as he lets the length of your strap carve out his insides. With every angled rock of your hips, the tip of your curved cock rubs against his poor prostate, stimulating it and making it a nightmare of an endurance test to hold himself back from spilling.

Habit is a powerful thing. Of course, Keigo's body recognizes the familiarity of this song and dance. His cock, ever well-trained, expects you to deny its release; to still your hips and cause his balls to ache, heavy with deprivation, just like you always do.

But tonight, you don't stop.

Your hands are still gripping his hips and your strap buckles are still clinking with your desperate movements. Your pelvis keeps pressing him deeper, manually pushing him in and out of the toy below; and he begrudgingly accepts your generosity, because it's possible that you just felt a little altruistic today.

After all, it is his—

"I'm gonna cum," Keigo whimpers. "Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum!"

And with his nails tearing at the sheets, Keigo's world goes white; almost as white as the sticky mess he makes of his poor little toy, tip flooding it with rope after rope from his throbbing cock.

It rings in his ears when he climaxes, overloading his poor brain with endorphins and making him scream into the pillow he chomps down on.

Still, your delicate hands guide his hips back and forth, ignoring his babbling to watch him fuck his own cum into the toy.

If it pleases you to watch Keigo continue the motion long after your hands have retreated, you keep it to yourself.

"Ah," he nearly shrieks, high pitched and pretty. "Too much! Ah, fuck, baby, please—"

"Yeah? How does it feel, sweetheart?"

"W-Wet," Keigo hiccups, hips stuttering just the same as his voice. He paws at the sheets when he continues, kneading them in his palms like a kitten. "So fucking wet."

"Mhm," you hum, sitting back on your haunches. You decide to make him use his words for your entertainment, to sate your indignance at his prior tantrums. "And why is that, babe?"

Your palms slide possessively down his hips and up the curvature of his back, meeting his arch. They trail toward his shoulder blades, fingers splayed as Keigo tries to chase them; and to your amusement, he hardly looks to be in the proper state to process the fact that he's actually being mocked, let alone protest it.

To Keigo, all he knows is it simply feels good.

Keigo answers obediently, instead. It takes you by surprise, the way his unabashed filth spills without shame. Arousal pools between your thighs, but your body remains still— if only to watch the way he fucks himself on your cock, balls deep before he does the same using his own to the fleshlight below.

"Because it's stuffed full of my cum. It's s-so wet, full— fuck," he slurs, voice airy and utterly uncontrolled when he draws his hips back onto your thick, pink strap, down till his ass meets your pelvis; and he thrusts his cock back inside the toy, the subsequent shlick somehow louder than how he runs his mouth.

Back and forth, in and out, Keigo irreverently milks himself from both ends. The motion of it smears his own spent along the sides of his cock, acting as the most obscene lubricant. It's messy, unbearably loud in its slick sounds.

It must sound as satisfying to hump as it feels, Keigo thinks. His lip wobbles at the thought, hoping it impresses you, and he bites the pillow below him.

"Aww, it's full?" You don't bother to muffle your laughs as you kneel behind him, simply watching as the once-powerful hero below you does all the work and fucks the snark out of himself, for you. The sound of your condescending laughter breaks him, whittling down his vocabulary as his mind sinks to that familiar, fuzzy place.

The silicone is unbearably tight around his length, even though you were careful to pick one out that he could fit into. The thickness and length of Keigo's cock does tend to make shopping for toys a chore, you muse.

You're not complaining, though. You'll take a couple extra hours of scrolling through fleshlight reviews on forums for the well-endowed before making a purchase, if it means you can keep getting split open by his massive cock when he bends you over the bathroom vanity.

Or the kitchen counter. Or the leather couch in your living room. Or the nearest single-stall restroom sink after you accidentally call him something you shouldn't have in public.

But tonight, the nicknames you call him sound nothing like "sir."

They sound like "puppy", like "sweetheart", like "good boy."

The ribbed, silicone rings inside are designed to squeeze his cock with each stroke. It normally feels simply pleasurable; though, after an orgasm that explosive, his cock feels nearly raw in its sensitivity, nerves exposed like live wiring and sparking electricity all the same.

"It hurts," Keigo squeaks through his fat, wet tears; and you begin to pull out and fuss over him.

That is, until he wails and grips your thigh close in his claws.

"Wait, I want it to! Don't pull out, please don't, please don't pull out. I was so close," he slurs.

"Already?" Your face scrunches with disbelief.

"Uh huh," he nods furiously.

And just like that, your grandiose plans of discovering how much is too much for the glutton end up fizzling out.

"Figures you'd be into overstimulation," you roll your eyes, palm slapping once against his behind as you watch it go from fleshy peach to red. "Whore."

"Huh?" He drools. He sounds like a lost puppy, brain too fuzzy to register a single word. Well, other than whore, but that's only because that word made his cock feel kinda nice.

"Not gonna remember a damn word you said tomorrow, are you," you ask, watching him rock his hips in desperation, drowning in his own pleasure. "Too lost when you get fucked, huh, puppy?"

"Mm-mm," Keigo shakes his head furiously, blonde tufts sticking up like stray feathers. At the sight of it, you're overcome with a sudden urge to claw at his scalp.

"Mm! Love you," he adds for seemingly no reason when you yank his neck back by the roots, throat bobbing with his strained swallow.

Heart pounding like the percussion of a heavy metal drum with moans just as erotic, skin slick with sweat and cock wet with his own release; this is the man Keigo is reduced to as you take charge once more. You bully his prostate, thighs burning with effort and breath panting in his ear. Your left hand releases his scalp to grip his jaw and keep his back arched into your chest, while your right shamelessly milks his cock, fleshlight in hand.

It's too much. His moans are broken, climbing in pitch like a crescendo until the dam breaks and his mind shatters once more.

You know how loud Keigo can be. You're well aware, well prepared; yet, like every time you make him sob and scream when he cums, it travels between your legs like lightning, regardless.

After he collapses into the sheets, it takes Keigo ages to catch his breath. His body still shudders and twitches with the aftershocks of his orgasm, wings flapping twice before tucking against his shoulder blades, submissively.

There's drool on the pillowcase, you note; and it's been chewed to bits.

When you pull out, he gasps. You rub the tip against his twitching rim in an attempt to soothe him, and his gasp settles into a sigh.

"Good?" You're out of breath, yourself, when you dare to ask. "You look like you lost one of your nine lives, for a second."

"Eh, it was alright," he smirks. "Could you do it again? I wasn't paying attention."

"Shut the fuck up," you slam a pillow against his side. "You're such a brat.

"You love it," Keigo teases, rolling onto his back and stretching. He exposes his belly. Blissfully comfortable, fucked-out, and entirely satiated.

His eyes nevertheless catch between your legs as you unbuckle the strap and let it fall unceremoniously. He wets his lip and swallows, pupils dilating.

"C'mere," he says, making grabby hands. Expectant, he shifts in eager anticipation, settling into an acceptably comfortable position as you place your thighs on either side of his head— he won't be moving for quite some time, after all.

"Oh," you add, pretending as if you suddenly remembered something. "And Keigo?"

"Mhm?" He hums, craning his neck toward your core, eager to lap himself another helping to fill.

"Happy birthday, baby."

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touyatakeover · 1 year

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‘japan's sweetheart and her special someone.’

dabi x female pro hero reader

japan's new number one hero has been in a very serious relationship with someone for quite some time now. but no one knows that... except her and that “someone.” and who could have ever guessed that that “someone” is supposed to be her worst enemy?

word count: 5.5k words

—warnings and things: hawks appearance (just friends lolz), slight angst (dabi is insecure), arguing for just a second, secret relationship, established relationship, dynamic can be a bit strained (due to the hero/villian thing) but don’t worry y’all are very much in love, he really likes to call you pretty (among other nicknames), teasing, dabi is called "touya" a couple times, reader is referred to as “you” instead of “she,” choking, a lotttt of praise, sub!reader, soft dom!dabi, fingering, cunnilingus, overstimulation, (semi??)public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cursing/swearing.

if i'm missing some, let me know!

i have a dabi infestation, in my brain. he won’t go away. physically cannot stop thinking about that weirdo.

ok here we go

☆ ☆ ☆

a bright smile rested upon your face after you and one other hero took down yet another villian. you looked at the crowd of citizens (that had gathered around the scene seemingly out of no where) before you, cheering you on, screaming your hero name, applauding for you. this part of your job made you feel warm inside. the sight of the people, young and old, big and small, holding so much adoration for you.

you were like a superstar in the hero world, soaring up the ranks at an insane rate. you had just passed endeavor a little under two months ago, making you japan’s brand new number one hero. and unlike endeavor, everyone seemed to love you, even your competitors. not just for your quirk, or your physical strength, but your mental prowess, how quick and creatively you were able to think on your feet, and (the most popular reason) for your personality. you presented as japan’s new sweetheart, mature, well put-together, with a heart of gold (that was especially loved by the country’s children).

you retained a down-to-earth character, despite your strength and the constant praise you received. with the amount compliments you’d hear about yourself, people would expect it to all go to your head. but, you were perfect, in the mind’s of the country’s civilians anyway.

“beautiful job, as always, number one!” you hear the pro hero hawks say from behind you with a smile, followed by a hand on your shoulder. even hawks couldn’t dislike you, even though you had surpassed both him and his idol endeavor in the hero rankings.

you giggle at your friend’s compliment, “thank you, hawks. it was nothing, really! besides, you helped me a ton!”

the blonde scoffs. “oh please, you practically did it all without me!”

the two of you share a high-five, and your conversation is interrupted by a small group of five elementary school children running up to you and hawks.

“hiii!” one of the girls of the group, who appears to be the leader, says. then, they start talking to you all at the same time, saying things like “you both are so cool!!” and “i wan’ be just like you when i grow up!” and “may i take a picture to show my mommy?” among other things.

you stand with your knees bent and hands on your knees to get at their eye level and listened to them carefully, nodding, and smiling, and signing things for them, and taking pictures, and smiling some more.

after signing what you thought was the last of the merch from the children, all of them except one goes to talk to hawks. you noticed, though, the last one of the kids from the group still standing in front of you, looking at her feet, shy to meet your gaze.

you kneel down fully and start softly, “hello, sweetie. what’s your name?”

“m-my… um… my name is… akemi,” the adorable young girl says just over a whisper. she plays with her fingers to ease her nerves as her favorite hero stands over her.

“my gosh, what a pretty name! it suits you.”

“h-how, miss?” she says, wanting to look up at you, but feeling too shy to do so.

“akemi; the kanji means bright beauty. a wonderful name for such a wonderful girl.”

“you think i’m wonderful?!” she finally looks up at you, her expression much brighter, and eyes sparkling. her words are clear and have fully lost their stutter. she’s beaming. she’s bright and beautiful, as her name suggests.

“of course, lovely. i can tell you are.”

your voice is genuine, but for some reason, she looks down at her shoes once more and her voice is back down to a whisper.

“my mommy and daddy… th-they think that my quirk isn’t good enough to be a hero. to be… like you. so, miss, h-how can you think i’m… wonderful?”

you frown a little and you feel your heart sink. she’s just a little girl, and yet her parents are already discouraging her?

you know someone, who’s parents didn’t really believe in him growing up. his hero, his father, constantly discouraging him, crushing his dreams. and you’ve seen the results of that lack of support.

“akemi, i’m gonna tell you a secret, mkay?” you begin.

she nods. “‘kay.”

“my quirk used to give me problems when i was your age, too. i just had to learn how to use it to it’s full potential.”

“n-no way!” her sparkling eyes are back on you. they have a gorgeous blue hue, like the sea. just like that certain someone you know.

“yes way! you’re still young, your quirk must’ve just manifested a little while ago. you, my dear, still have so much time to achieve your dream.”

“but… wh-what if i can’t?”

“i know you can. i know you’ll be an even better hero than me, i can feel it.” you lift your hands and hold the both of her small ones gently.

the girl cracks a smile.

“better than you?!” akemi questions. she thinks that’s impossible to be better than ‘the best hero ever!’.

“so much better than me.”

suddenly the girl traps you in a hug. so cute, you could cry.

she thanks you, and hands you a picture she seemingly ripped out of a magazine of her favorite hero to sign.

when you stand up, she reads the words you added to her picture, right below your autograph:

— to the bright and beautiful akemi, our future number one hero. <3

she grins and gives her thanks yet another time before running off to join the rest of her friends, with an added confidence she didn’t have before.

your heart is full of warmth, watching the girl hold the picture near her heart, hugging it as she walked away.

the group of civilians begin to disperse, after the police show up and take the villian you had conquered to jail.

hawks gathers up with you again, chuckling.

“kids. they’re adorable.”

“they really really are.”

while excitedly engaging in small talk, the smart watch you wear on your right wrist makes a ding! sound.

it’s connected to your cell phone and receives the same text messages and calls that your phone does. you see you’ve received a message from… that certain blue-eyed someone that has the contact name my love on the screen.

‘what a cute display. looks like u made that little girl’s day.’

he’s watching you, from somewhere. he’s waiting for you. as usual. well that’s what you thought. until your watch dings again three times in a row.

‘if you’ve started looking for me already, i’ve already left.’

‘meet u on the roof of ur house.’

‘excited to see you, pretty girl. come to me. quickly.’

“ooo, gotta go keigo! the sun is about to go down soon and i’ve got stuff to do at home!” you half-lie, careful with using his real name until just about everyone’s gone.

“alright, y/n, don’t forget we’re doing karaoke with mirko on sunday!”

for a second you wondered how you ever agreed to that. you weren’t the best singer, but karaoke with your friends sounded fun. a good way to relax from hero work.

“i didn’t forget!! who do you think i am? i’ll see you sunday!” you yell out with a little wave as he ascends slowly into the sky, flapping his wings, preparing to take off.

when hawks is finally gone, you make your way home quickly, thanking god your house isn’t at all far from where you are.

you excitedly stroll down the streets, watching your home get closer and closer. when you arrive home, you don’t even take off your tattered hero costume and make your way up to your roof.

and there, you see it. your certain someone.

him.

he’s laying down on top of a blanket that he's placed over the flat surface of the roof, in wait for you, playing with the small blue flames dancing on his fingertips. a toothy smile creeps up on his features as he hears you approaching him.

“hey, pretty lady.”

he greets you, standing up while extinguishing his flames in an instant and reaching his arms out for you.

you happily wrap your arms around him, inhaling the smell of his smoky and musky cologne.

“hi, you stalker,” you say into his chest even though this is a common occurrence. when he’s not busy he likes to meet up with you in places neither of you can be seen since you’re both one another’s dirty little secrets.

you can feel the laugh he lets out vibrating against his chest.

“‘m not a stalker. just wanted to see what the number one hero was up to, just like everyone else.”

you roll your eyes and separate from your hug, looking him in the eyes as he continues to speak.

“you came just in time to watch the sunset with me, baby.” he sits back down on the blanket, takes off his jacket, and pats the spot next to him. “sit down, pretty.”

and so you sit. you lay your head on his shoulder and look at the sunset. gorgeous shades of orange and yellow paint the sky as the giant ball of heat prepares to sleep through the night. the two of you enjoy the view of the day’s transition into nighttime, exchanging small words here and there.

“i wonder what kind of spell you put on me to make me keep meeting up with you like this, instead of just killing you. you got some secret second quirk or something?” he smirks at the circumstances.

you offered him a small smile in return, looking over at him. "nope... not to my knowledge. but... maybe that would explain why everyone likes me so much. even you."

when the two of you had first crossed paths nearly two years ago, it was when he was sent on a mission to assassinate you. at the time you were (and still are) considered the league of villains' biggest threat. you were climbing up the ranks quickly, as the announcement that you were the 4th highest ranked hero of that year had just came out. the league just had to make sure they eliminated you, so they sent dabi. and he thought it would be an easy, one-and-done, sort of thing; fully prepared to kill you.

but... when you had looked menacingly into his eyes after slamming him down into the cold pavement of the alleyway that he had tried to ambush you in... he started to understand your... appeal.

everyone loves you after all, now including him.

since that day, even though he couldn't admit it to himself at first, he was awestruck by you, despite your initial dislike for him. but your sour attitude didn't deter him.

after a few more "attempts to eliminate you" that he purposefully failed, a forbidden relationship of polar opposites began to bloom.

whenever you had to fight the league of villains, you always mysteriously turned out to be unharmed, especially when you went toe-to-toe with the arsonist himself. naturally, shigaraki eventually began to question him on how you keep miraculously slipping through the league's fingers, and dabi was always quick to come up with thorough lies to deter his own friends from the truth.

to this day, because of those lies, they have yet to find out he's been warning you before every "surprise" attack the villains were planning.

and now, here you are. together. even though you really shouldn't be. watching the sun's descent on the roof of your home.

you were so relaxed beside a villian?, eyes closing as the sun almost completely disappeared. he couldn't help but stare at your face, thoughts running through his mind.

“y/n, baby?”

you hum in response.

“do you… really believe that girl you spoke to will be a hero one day? better than you?”

“if she truly wants to do that, then i believe she has the potential to do so,” you answer seriously, eyes opening and landing on the man beside you, noticing he was already peering over at you.

“ha, answered just like a perfect little hero,” is what he says, resting one of his hands on your face.

“oh, shut up,” you whisper, shuffling closer to him. you press your lips against his and he closes his eyes. he loves to kiss you. he loves the way you taste like sweet spearmint gum, due to your habit of chewing gum all the time.

you notice his tight grip on you was tightening even more, so you break the kiss and ask him “what’s wrong, baby?”

he doesn’t wanna admit it, that his cold heart warms up whenever he sees you interact with children that look up to you.

but when it also leads him down a train of thought that makes him frown. he wonders if one day he could give you children, since you like them so much. he grimaces at how he probably wouldn’t be able to be around and raise them with you, because of the fact he’s a villain.

he. is. a. villian. he’s always known that, but those words hold more weight now since he’s been dating you. you don’t deserve a villian. you deserve someone as sweet and pure as you are.

he could have been that. could have. he could’ve been a functioning part of society, just like the rest of his family, if only they payed attention to him. you managed to pay attention to a random girl on the street, and change her outlook on her life through a single conversation, and yet his own flesh and blood couldn't do that for him when he was a child. and now, he's this. burnt and battered and broken. damaged goods, even though you deserve the best there is to offer. you deserve so much better than him.

he doesn’t want to admit those things to you. he doesn't really want to feel vulnerable.

but, when his eyes meet yours, he can’t resist sharing a piece of his thoughts.

“was a cute kid you talked to earlier. the way you spoke to her it was… i don’t know," he trails off. he has a hard time expressing emotions like this at times, but he continues to try, for you. "you’re always so encouraging. you’re… a sweet girl. man, i don’t know i just… wish i knew someone like you growing up. maybe i wouldn’t have turned out… like this.”

you give him a look of bewilderment, not expecting him to pour out his heart. and really not expecting his last sentence.

“turn out like what, dabi?”

“turn out… like dabi.”

if someone just looked at him then… the way you look at him now, like his existence actually means something, he wouldn’t have ever become dabi.

he could’ve been kind like you. someone who helps people, not an evil-doer who hurts them.

he could’ve stayed touya, the dreamer. or been touya the hero, or touya the teacher, or touya the singer, or touya the artist, or touya the athlete.

but instead of all of those potential forms of touya, he is the worst possible option: dabi the murderer, dabi the arsonist, dabi the terrorist, dabi the wicked evil heartless villain. he is dabi.

“you tur—“

he groans before you can even get the sentence out of your mouth. his arms are now crossed against his chest.

“come on, y/n, don’t give me that shit. wouldn’t you rather be with a clean-cut guy that isn’t a criminal?”

“baby, please.”

he keeps going, despite your plea. he knows you don’t like when he talks like this, but these thoughts have been swimming in his mind more than usual ever since you became number one.

“wouldn’t you want a little hero, just like you? a little goody-two-shoes who can walk in the street with you, and hold your hands in public, and kiss you in front of people, and meet your family, and take pictures in your little hero magazine photoshoots with you, and take you to those restaurants you like?! give you the things you fucking deserve?!!”

he lists off things at the speed of rapid fire, his voice getting louder as he goes on.

“no. no the hell i wouldn’t.” the words leave your lips firmly.

he grabs your shoulders now and holds them tightly, but not tight enough to cause you any pain.

“don’t you ever lie to me like that again. you cannot tell me you wouldn’t pick a guy like that over someone like me; some sick homicidal asshole who has to meet up with you in fucking alleyways?!!”

you can hear his voice breaking. his words are coming out strained while he bites back the bloody tears that want to escape from his eyes. the sorrowful tone of his voice upsets you. naturally, you don't like it when he's sad, especially when it's due to his far-from-true insecurities.

“i am not lying to you! i don’t care about any of that shit! the thing i care about the most is you. it’s always gonna be you. i love my job, i love being a hero, but i’d leave it all behind. i would leave all this shit, if it meant i could be happy with you. i could never love anything or anyone else in the way that i love you, not even being number one. i tell you that all the time and i mean that.”

he knows you mean that. he knows every word you speak is truth from the bottom of your heart and it makes his head hurt. he is not worthy of this affection. why would you give up everything for him when he's nothing?

“you sound ridiculous, y/n! 'm a fuckin' sinner and you're... an angel.”

“it’s you that sounds ridiculous. we are opposites. but opposites attract, don’t they? and i fell in love with you just the way you are right now. no one could possibly make me feel the way you make me feel. i didn’t fall in love with a hero, or a 'goody-two-shoes,' or some other guy you think would be better for me. i fell in love with you."

he can't argue with that, and he can't argue with the way you look at him with so much devotion in your eyes. the adoration emitting from your gaze overwhelms him, and he looks away.

he's silent now. so you continue.

"so you think i'm an angel," you grab his face with your right hand to make him look at you. "but i'm your angel, aren't i?"

his eyes dilate when your words hit his eardrums. your voice, velvety and smooth and sugary sweet, feels like it just wrapped around his body and encased him in a hug. you always know just what to say. his eyes search yours and his mind fills up with nothing but the same three words over and over again:

i love you. i love you. i love you. i love you. i love you. i love you.

he loves you and you love him. and that's all that matters.

his lips part to let out a shaky exhale, "yeah." followed by a shaky inhale, then yet another shaky exhale, before he whispers, "my angel."

the space between the two of you becomes non-existent when he brushes his lips against yours. he groans into the kiss, yearning to feel more of you, all of you.

the kiss turns from small pecks to slow, deep, sensual open-mouthed kisses, with the both you aching for the other.

he grabs your frame and brings you into his lap. your hands rest on either side of his face, physically demanding that he comes closer to you.

“hah, are you gonna conquer me too, little hero? like you did with that villain from earlier?” he whispers against your lips. the feeling of his breath against your lips makes your body tingle under his touch.

“mmyeah? that’s what you want? but i thought the villian was supposed to try and take down the hero?” your thumbs stroke his cheeks, back and forth against the textured skin. through your eyelashes you look at him with a sly smile.

“i have a track record of not being very good when it comes to taking you down. but, if that's what you want, i’ll gladly take you down, hero. in more ways than one.”

your lips meet one another’s again, this time with much more force and fervor. his hands are all over your body, stroking and grabbing at different parts under your tight hero costume. he swirls his tongue around your own, pulling a moan from your mouth.

a gasp leaves you when he snakes a hand up your body and wraps his fingers around your neck. you both know he has no intention of hurting you, not in the slightest, but the mere threat of danger makes you feel warm in the pit of your stomach. and, you don't even realize it makes you start rolling your hips on top of his.

your breaths are heavy as you stare at each other wordlessly, the air other of becoming filled with tension and the sounds of both of you panting.

"look at you, my pretty lady," he coos. you can feel him start to make his hand around your neck warmer and warmer, hotter and hotter. it doesn't burn, doesn't hurt, but he... has the power to make it hurt. and you can't quite figure out why that turns you on. but it does. it really, really does. you grind against him a little rougher.

"do you know the way you're fuckin' lookin' at me right now? it's not how a hero is supposed to be lookin' at someone like me. look like you wanna devour me, baby. or... do you want me to devour you? i can't quite tell." he keeps his words to a whisper, knowing the sound of his own voice makes you crazy.

you only let out a breathless sound, not really knowing the answer to that question yourself.

"dabi, are... are we really gonna do this? here? now?"

"no one will see us, number one. the sun is down now. 's just you 'nd me." and he was right. the sun had finally completed its full descent, with its friend, the moon, making its appearance in the now black sky. the stars reflecting off of your lovedrunk eyes is what pushed him to keep teasing you.

"c'mon sweet girl. do you want me?"

you mewl and give him a slow nod, paired with a "mmhmm."

once, then twice, then three times does dabi deliver quick smooches to your lips, strongly resisting the urge to stick his tongue into your mouth.

"tell me, y/n. tell me you want me."

and just like that, nothing else matters. not the fact you were on the roof on your home, not that you were a hero with a reputation to uphold, not that you were allowing a villain to have control over you like this while you sat in his lap. no, not anything at all.

right now you were no longer the number one hero, no longer the new symbol of peace, no longer japan's sweetheart, no longer the girl that everyone likes. you were just... you. y/n. dabi's girl.

"i want you. touya, i need you. please."

it's not very often when you say that word to refer to him, but when you do, he melts inside.

suddenly dabi moves one hand to the small of your back and another hand to your torso to brace you as he pushes you down onto the fluffy blanket below you both. his body towers over yours while his head dips down to groan "love you"s and "need you too"s and "my baby"s into your mouth.

after pulling his own shirt above his head, dabi practically rips your hero costume off your body, which you would normally curse him for, but don't, since it was already tattered from the day you'd had.

he wastes no time rubbing his hands on your inner thighs, savoring the feeling of your soft skin against his rough hands for just a second. his hands grabbed at your panties, taking them off from around your hips.

"so fuckin' pretty."

the pads of his fingertips glide up and down the folds of your puffy pussy. and his expression becomes almost crazed when the sound of you finally moaning for him hits his ears. your toes curl and your eyes snap shut when his fingers rotate around your clit, hips jolting at the stimulation.

"no, no no no, look at me pretty. eyes on me, yeah?"

a long, loud high-pitched whine escapes from your throat when he puts more pressure on you. then, you slowly peel your eyes open.

"aww, there she is. there's my girl."

and when your eyes fully open again, you have to fight back the want to shut them again at the view above you. dabi's eyes look almost glazed over and his lips are parted, holding back his own little noises from just looking at you. he is completely entranced, absolutely nothing could take his blue eyes off yours.

not breaking eye contact, you don't even notice he's about to bring the middle and ring fingers from his other hand inside of you.

"baby!!!" you cry out, both of his hands now working on you at the same time. you almost forget you're outside, where your neighbors may or may not be able to hear you. but your neighbors don't seem to matter too much when your back arches up off of the fabric below you as your hips begin to instinctually grind against his hands.

through his daze he starts sputtering words to tease you while curling his fingers up to push on the bundle of nerves that made you cry out again.

"imagine the fuckin' look on your sweet little citizens' faces if they knew you run home just to break so easily on a villains fingers."

"wonder how your little hero friends would react if they knew i had you creaming on the roof of your own house."

"hah, if only they knew japan's sweetheart isn't as sweet as they think she is."

your hands claw at his arms and he smiles down at you at how your muscles involuntarily clench around his fingers, the threat of your dirty little secret being found out making your body feel hot. you want to look away out of embarrassment, but you can't. your eyes can't look anywhere else but at the man above you.

set on hearing you whine even more, he takes one of his hands from your clit and replaces it with his lips, tongue flicking your clit up and down, and round and round. he hums against you in delight when you squeal,

"mmmgo-god, touya!!! feels too--! 's too much!!"

you're breathless despite your constant gasping underneath him. your hips can't decide if they want to chase the feeling of his mouth on you or if they want to buck away from the overstimulation. his rhythm of his tongue on your clit and fingers inside you start to get faster, making you start to tremble. you grasp your lover's dyed black hair, calling out his name, as you fall apart completely under his touch. you were gushing, squirting on his tongue with him happily licking you up and telling you how you 'taste so good, baby.'

when you're finally able to catch your breath, you mindlessly reach for his belt and start to unbuckle it, readying yourself to suck him off, but he stops you.

"always such a sweet girl. don't worry about me right now." he tells you, and you don't protest because you were really starting to crave the feeling of something longer than his fingers inside of you.

dabi quickly discards the clothes on his bottom half, revealing his hard and leaking cock that you couldn't help but stare at. you watched as the precum that had accumulated at his tip began to leak all the way down to his base; he was oh so eager to be inside you. and so were you.

"my eyes are up here, baby." he smirked when you rolled your eyes. "come on, hold on to me."

his heart was pounding against his ribcage at the sensation of the bare skin of your arms and legs wrapping around his multi-textured body. he's reeling at the feeling of the softness of your breasts, pressed up against his chest. he takes a second to look at you before pushing himself inside you with an unstable exhale. his eyes rolled into the back of his head as soon as he made contact with the warm wetness of your cunt and the feeling of you sucking him in deeper and deeper and deeper.

"fuck! take me so fucking well, my gorgeous fuckin' girl."

he starts to give you shallow thrusts, biting his lip, hips slapping against yours. your nails found their way into his shoulder blades, needing him closer than humanly possible.

"m-more! honey-- ohh god-- honey, please! please, my love, please, my baby, pleaseeee! please please please please pleeeease, yes!" you beg into his ear. he moans back at you, his resolve to hold anything back anymore now being completely gone.

he sinks his cock into you as deep as he can go, pulling out loud, broken moans from the both of you.

he began to murmur sweet nothings to you, telling you how good you feel, and how perfect you are, and how you're like his pretty princess. you pressed hot kisses into his shoulder, voice reverberating against his skin.

you lifted your hips slightly to meet his while he fucked you, clawing at him, and he lets out a near-pornographic moan at much more intense the head of his cock felt against your insides.

"shit! o-oh there you go, sweetheart, fuck me back, yeah? you love fucking your man back, don't you? hahhhh, shit!-- give it to me, give it to me baby!" he tells you, and so you do exactly that. you try to focus on meeting your hips with his, letting out moans in time with his thrusts.

"touya, i'm... 'm close... s-so close, honey," you whisper in his ear, your words coming up slow and a bit slurred. and instead of thrusting into you with more vigor he actually slows himself down, hips rolling into yours slow, deep, and deliberate. every roll of his hips tugged cry after cry from you. your nails somehow dig further into his skin, but he doesn't mind. this is a type of pain he actually likes, even if you might have broke through skin and how hard you're grasping him.

"i've got you, my baby. hmmmfuck, i love you. god, the way you're squeezing me... 'm gonna cum, i need to give it to you. you want me to cum in that perfect pretty pussy, hm sweetheart?" he asks, his forehead now pressing against your own.

it's astonishing to you how his hips seem to be moving slower, but the pleasure you feel is building up, and up, and up, more and more.

all you can manage to get out is "god please... please... with me."

knowing your tendency to get loud when you're about to cum on his cock, he kisses you, loving the feeling of your moans being sent into his mouth. your legs press into him when you both cum, whining out for each other. his cum fills you and some drips down the meat of your thighs.

the two of you stay in the same position, breathing each other in under the light of the moon. soon enough, you giggle. "on the roof. never done that one before."

"it's good to try new things, isn't it, little hero?"

you hum in response. "it is. now, that may have been very fun, but i'm not falling asleep out here. you've gotta bring me inside, i don't think i can take myself downstairs."

he gives you a fake surprised look, even though he was already planning on bringing you off the roof anyway. "i have to? why should i?"

you pout at his question, "please? 'm tired."

"just messing with you, pretty. lets go," he murmurs. he puts on his underwear, wraps you up in the blanket and lifts you into his arms.

he leaves your hero costume and his outfit on the roof. you can worry about that in the morning. the only thing that matters is you and him, your secret special someone.

☆ ☆ ☆

first ever fanfic on here! it took me a few days to write; hope u enjoyed :0

—— TOUYATAKEOVER! ⭐️

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