Ive A New Reason To Smile Today, Smile!

DES says . . . most ive wrote in weeks, omfg. ANYWHOO, i present to you: “can he pay my bills?” ft. bakugou, iida, izuku, todoroki, kirishima & denki.

© vampdes . do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

this is art

MR. TOKYO BEAT HOTTEST HERO : SHOUTO x READER

SUMMARY: Shouto finds out he’s hot. He swiftly uses this knowledge against you. CONTENT & WARNINGS: pro hero au, established relationship, afab reader (no pronouns used), shouto's general obliviousness, todoroki shouto is a little shit, fluff, aged-up characters, smut, nipple play, vaginal sex, emotional sex, 18+ minors please dni! (3.8k)

Pro Hero Shouto Voted Tokyo Beat’s Hottest Hero of the Year

It’s been almost six years since Todoroki Shouto swept onto the scene as pro hero Shouto, melting almost as many villains as he has hearts. Currently standing at number four in the hero rankings, he’s armed with a formidable ice-and-fire combination quirk nearly as devastating as his smile.

Shouto’s heartthrob status has created such a sensation that he’s papered the pages of our magazine hundreds of times since his UA days. Now he’s taking home the coveted Hottest Hero crown… [read more]

It was a frosty night in early December when Shouto returned from patrol, looking uncharacteristically ruffled.

To an outside observer, his expression probably looked as bland as ever. But years into your relationship, you knew how to read your boyfriend’s microexpressions—the tiniest furrowing of his brows, the softest downward hitch of that perfect, plush mouth. He looked troubled—more troubled than you’d seen him in a while.

You turned off the heat on the stove, abandoning the dinner you’d been preparing, and rushed over to him as he shed his boots at the door. He’d apparently already changed out of his hero uniform at the agency, dressed instead in the high-collared gray coat that always made him look like he’d wandered out of the pages of a J. Crew catalog. He shrugged his coat off in tandem with his backpack, the tiny frown still carving his lips.

“Shouto—what’s wrong? Are you alright?” you asked, immediately taking his face in your hands.

Shouto blinked down at you, twin points of blue and silver fixing on your face. To your satisfaction, his expression seemed to soften, a tiny smile pulling at the corner of his mouth instead, and he murmured your name in greeting, his tone low and soft.

“Did something bad happen on patrol?” you asked. “You look troubled.”

Two warm, big hands came up to encompass your own, his thumbs smoothing over the backs of your fingers. You let him pull your hands away from his face to hold in his own, and he pressed a kiss to the knuckles of one, his mouth sweet and hot on your skin.

You flushed. Despite the years you’d been together, you had never been able to establish any sort of immunity to Shouto. If anything, the crush you’d had on him before you’d gotten together had only grown more out of control the longer you were exposed to him—-you still got butterflies whenever he looked at you with a fraction more intensity than normal.

“Hello, love,” he said, his mouth lingering over your skin.

Your stomach swooped, and your face got hot. Damn him.

“Hi Sho,” you backtracked. “I’m happy you’re home. But seriously, did something happen?”

Shouto’s fingers tightened around yours, and a little wrinkle appeared between his brows. “Not on patrol. Something else… unexpected happened.”

You watched him, waiting for him to elaborate.

His eyes roved over you, as if searching for the appropriate words on your face, until he seemed to find the right question. “Am I… do people consider me handsome?”

There was a moment of stunned silence before an incredulous laugh burst out of you.

The most beautiful man on earth, the internet’s steadfast boyfriend—the literal stuff of wet dreams, lurid fantasies, and thousands of covert sessions with a vibrator—was asking if he was considered handsome.

You knew Shouto had never been interested in his own beauty, blinking at compliments as if unsure how to receive them, generally oblivious to anyone hitting on him as though he thought people were that friendly to everyone, never spending any significant time in front of the mirror unless it was to stare at you next to him in the reflection, undoing your hair or washing your face or brushing your teeth.

But to be so unaware of his own looks that he was asking you?

“Shouto, you know you’re handsome,” you said. “I tell you all the time.”

The wrinkle between Shouto’s brows deepened. “You think so because you love me. But—I meant… do other people who do not love me think so?”

Your eyebrows shot to your hairline, floored by this line of questioning. “Shouto—every single person on earth thinks you are like the hottest man alive. Are you for real?”

Shouto blinked, those gray and blue eyes growing a fraction wider. “They do?”

You nodded, surprise coloring your tone. “Yeah—you didn’t know? Sero calls you ‘pretty boy’ to tease you like all the time. You get hit on every time you leave the house. You have twitter accounts dedicated to you.”

A tiny pout crept onto Shouto’s mouth, and his eyelashes fluttered. “I thought he said it as a joke. And I thought those accounts were fans of my work. And I thought… you only thought so because you love me.”

You laughed. Shouto’s good looks were as serious as a heart attack. So serious they might just induce one, in fact. And you did love him, and would love him no matter what he looked like—his inside was just as beautiful as his outside, and would always make him attractive to you. He was so kind, so thoughtful, and so inherently bone-deep good in so many ways that made your heart swell just looking at him.

Truly he was love-you-even-if-you-were-a-worm material. But this was no laughing matter.

“What’s brought this question on now?” you asked.

Shouto blinked again, looking slightly startled, then turned to his backpack. He produced a glossy magazine with a sticky note stuck to it, covered in his manager’s handwriting that read: check out page 43 >:). Just over the sticky note, two very familiar heterochromatic eyes peered out intensely from the magazine’s cover.

You peeled away the note to see your boyfriend’s face in full—his expression handsome and solemn. The shot must have been taken sometime post-rescue as he had smudges of ash all along his high cheekbones, and his hair was windswept, and a little piecey, like he’d just finished using phosphor. A headline next to his ear proclaimed, Todoroki Shouto: Tokyo Beat’s Hottest Hero Alive!

You looked back up at Shouto to find both of his ears red, though his expression was determinedly blank-faced. A grin yanked at your mouth.

“Well someone who works there has eyeballs,” you said, laughing. “Congratulations, Shouto!”

The scarlet at the tips of Shouto’s ears deepened. “I do not… I did not expect…”

Your smile grew larger, fondness blooming in your chest. He was so good you wanted to bite him. Of course he never expected anything like this—his concerns were tied to his heroics—had he saved enough people, was he living up to the hero he wanted to be? Even when he’d finally broken the top five earlier last month, he was only pleased to be so recognized because he wanted many people to be reassured by him, not out of any sense of competitiveness with his fellow heroes.

He would never think of anything like this—he was so fucking good.

“I always thought—my scar,” Shouto said, touching his face.

Your heart squeezed and you wormed your fingers under his, placing your hand over the scar in question.

“Your scar is a part of your face and a part of your identity. But to be real with you, it only makes you look more interesting, Sho.” Your own ears heated. “To be completely honest it’s—well it’s one thing that makes you look human. You kind of look, um, unnaturally handsome otherwise, like some kind of vampire or angel or something. When I say things like you’re too handsome to be allowed I actually mean it, you know.”

Shouto paused, those heterochromatic eyes flickering back down to yours. A scarlet eyebrow quirked slightly. “Then you also think that I am handsome,” he said, though it was phrased more like a revelation to him than a question.

“Did you think I was lying?” you asked hotly.

Shouto shook his head minutely. “No—but I did not realize. You found me handsome before you loved me?”

You laughed. “I had eyeballs before I loved you, so yeah. And I wouldn’t be so effusive all the time if I didn’t mean it. You think when I tell you stuff like that that I’m just playing it up?”

Shouto’s expression went suddenly blank, like a marker board suddenly erased of nefarious plans. Instantly, your hackles raised, the smile falling off your mouth, your senses suddenly screaming danger. Shouto might be the most trustworthy, reassuring, and beautiful pro hero of all time, but beneath the surface lurked a youngest child and a major little shit. His expression only ever changed like this when he was about to get up to something.

“Then you think I am so handsome you cannot think,” Shouto said.

The magazine suddenly crackled in your fingers as you clutched it between you. “What.”

Shouto moved a step closer, gaze sharpening. “When you said I was so handsome you cannot think. You meant it.”

A sound like a nervous cow escaped you as you backed up a few steps. “Did I say that?”

A tiny smile pulled at Shouto’s mouth again, a cross between something sincerely pleased and sincerely shit-eating.

“When you said I am so handsome that sometimes your brain goes static,” he said, his tone dropping low, prowling closer. “You meant it.”

You flushed hot. Hearing your words repeated back to you like that was so embarrassing.

You flailed when your back hit the wall, and Shouto stretched out an arm, blocking you in. You couldn’t help the way your eyes flicked to his bicep for a split second, admiring the way it flexed slightly under the sleeve of his shirt as he pressed his hand to the wall, the way the kitchen light shadowed it lovingly.

Shouto’s ears were even redder when you looked back at him, but his gaze was hungrier. He’d definitely noticed your inspection, and his newfound realization about your level of appreciation was clearly both pleasing but embarrassing.

“You said your brain does not work right when I am close,” Shouto said, his face looming near. “Am I doing it right?”

He was doing it right—terribly, horribly, awfully right. Your breath caught in your lungs, lights in your brain winking out one by one as that soft, perfect mouth hovered just over yours. Shouto was so warm this close, and you could feel all the fibers in your body straining towards him like plants unfurling under the sun.

You rallied yourself one last time, throwing your hands up, defeated. “I live with a literal Greek sculpture of a boyfriend, am I not supposed to admire the artwork?”

Shouto didn’t respond. Instead, you saw the smile on his lips widen a fraction, just before his mouth captured yours.

In the space of a heartbeat he’d pressed himself against you, trapping you against the wall just as your knees went to pudding. You could feel every part of him against you and you couldn’t think, all your thoughts slipping away, dissolving like sugar in water. Shouto’s hands came up to support your waist, pinning you against the wall as he kissed you so sweetly and so very thoroughly.

“Is this it, love?” he asked when he pulled back, something both smug and wondering in his tone. “Am I doing it right?”

You scraped the bottom of your mind for any fragments of human language with which to respond. “You always do it right, you little shit.”

Shouto’s mouth quirked in a smile again, and he leaned in to press it to the side of your throat, lips moving softly. You shivered in his hands and felt the way his smile widened on your skin.

You could practically feel delight pouring off of him, this discovery of his new power—a power he’d always had but never understood in full.

It figured Shouto’s beauty would only interest him insofar as he could deploy it against you.

But that was Shouto. Everything he had was something he used in service to others.

Shouto’s mouth mapped a hot trail down your throat, and you clung to his shoulders as his lips dipped under the collar of your shirt and sucked, softly but insistently. One of his hands left its place at your hip to slide up your stomach and beneath the fabric of your shirt, cupping the side of your breast.

He wasn’t touching anything, but the feeling of his hand, warm and strong and so very large that it spanned over your chest and ribcage, sucked all the oxygen right out of the air. You bit back a noise as Shouto left another mark beneath your collar, his long eyelashes fluttering against the skin of your throat as he let out his own soft groan.

“I thought you were beautiful, too, before I loved you,” Shouto said as his fingers traced the outline of your bra, just barely skimming the skin underneath.

Your ears went hot, the way they always did when Shouto got sincere in place of dirty talk. It was even hotter than the filthiest thing he could have said to you, because you knew he meant every single word of it.

“But now I love you, you are even more beautiful to me,” he said. “Is it the same for you?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but cut off on a moan as Shouto’s fingers finally found their way beneath your bra, his thumb swiping over your nipple. Your head thunked back against the wall when he did it again, pinching gently as his other hand covered your other breast, mirroring the action.

Heat streaked through your veins, pooling in your core. You bit your lip as Shouto played with you, feeling those heterochromatic eyes hot on your face.

“Answer me, love,” he commanded gently.

You peeked open an eye, realizing you’d squeezed them shut, shuddering as Shouto’s thumbs swiped over your nipples again, the touch perfect and maddening. Shouto was watching you intently, as he always did, but there was an extra dimension of interest, as if he truly did not know, truly wanted to know what you would say.

“Yes,” you told him, your tone hitching higher as he gently rolled your nipples in his long, pretty fingers. “Yes I—oh!—only find you more incredibly handsome every day—ah! Shouto!”

Shouto looked pleased, leaning forward to layer a kiss over your mouth as he played with your nipples. You squirmed under his hands, panting into his mouth, the touches already overwhelming. After years together, he knew exactly how to work you.

A strong thigh slid in between your own as Shouto pressed himself closer to you. You kissed him fiercely, huffing tiny embarrassing noises into his mouth, grinding against his thigh.

“Fuck, love,” Shouto groaned as he grew hard against your hip. You felt like you were floating, thoughts distant, the only present idea the feeling of Shouto’s strong body over yours. He was all over you but you wanted more, wanted to climb inside him and make your home there, wanted him to press inside of you and fill you and claim you and keep you—

“Shouto, bed—please, please—” you managed, before Shouto was hefting you in his arms obligingly.

He dumped you on the bed with a little less finesse than usual, following you down hungrily, weighing you into the sheets.

He made short work of your clothes, and you were bare to him in what felt like seconds. Shouto’s mouth immediately sought your breast again, closing over your nipple as his fingers dipped inside of you. You writhed with the heat of him over you, the heat of his mouth on you, the gentle press of him inside of you.

His thumb brushed over your clit as his tongue did something mind-bending over your nipple, and a moan escaped you, high and shivery. Shouto’s huff across the skin of your chest told you that it had pleased him, and he sucked a little more firmly, a little more insistently.

“Shouto, Shouto, Shouto—” you babbled mindlessly, hands sliding all over him. You wanted to touch him but you couldn’t reach him in return, so you settled for sliding your fingers into his hair, clinging as he made stars fizzle under your skin.

“Shouto—I’m going to come—you have to stop if you want to—ah!” you squeaked, as Shouto rubbed you more purposefully, moving over your clit in the way he knew you liked. His fingers moved inside you unrelentingly as he licked and sucked you slowly, the contrast between his mouth and his fingers too much for you.

Your pleasure rolled over you like a wave, rushing through your veins, pooling in all your limbs. You seized up under Shouto, but his weight held you down, his mouth and fingers working you through it.

You were still whining with sensitivity when he worked his own clothes off and slid into you, filling you up with the familiar shape of him. Your whine trailed into another moan, the feeling of him so utterly perfect inside of you.

“I don’t need anyone to think I am handsome but you, love,” Shouto said, canting his hips up so that he slid in and out of you. “All I want is you.”

You shifted, wrapping your legs around his back, pulling him deeper inside of you. “I know—Shouto, you’re beautiful inside and out. I love everything about you. Your face, your voice, your kindness, your goodness,” you paused as he filled you again, grinning up at him. “Your di—”

A powerful thrust had you choking off into a squeak, and you clutched his bicep as Shouto smiled down at you, his own grin charming and mischievous. You thought he was especially handsome just like this—panting, flushed, grinning, glorious—the way no one else got to see him but you. Mr. Tokyo Beat Hottest Hero he may be, but people still would never know how truly beautiful he could be, grinning down over you.

That was all yours.

Shouto wormed an arm between your back and the mattress, catching your waist and pulling you into him. The new angle had him brushing against your clit as he slipped in and out of you, and your eyes nearly rolled back in your head when you caught sight of where you were joined together, Shouto’s abs flexing tightly as he moved back and forth within you.

Sounds of pleasure slipped out of you, and Shouto caught them in his mouth. You kissed him back, clinging to his shoulders, pulling him closer. You reveled in the feeling of his hot skin on yours, shivering in delight with the contrast of his heat and the cool room around you.

Shouto’s hips worked into you, chasing both of your pleasure, his strokes fluid and sure. Those long fingers slid down your body again to press ever-so-slightly over your clit, and you bucked into his hand, delirious with the feeling of him pressing against you from both the inside and out. With the heavy weight of him over you it was like he was all around you, all over you, in your mouth, in your sex, overwhelming you.

You writhed against him, babbling a string of nonsense when he let your mouth free. Praise about how beautiful he was, about how good he was, about how good he felt, about how much you loved him.

Shouto breathed his own praise into your ear, his mouth closing around the lobe. He told you how beautiful you were, how much he loved you, how even if everyone liked the way he looked it was “all for you, love—everything is for you.”

His fingers slid in soft circles around your clit as he ground into you, kissing his way up your throat. You panted into the dim of your bedroom, little stars sparking in the corner of your vision. It felt like someone had lit a sparkler beneath your skin, a thousand tiny points of fizzing, burning friction, and Shouto was touching every single one of them.

“Cum for me, love,” Shouto commanded, his tone soft and low, kissing the underside of your jaw.

You couldn’t speak, could only nod, nearly there. His fingers kept toying with you, expert and unrelenting, and in another few seconds the wave of your pleasure was mounting again. It swept over you like a tidal wave, smashing through you, sweeping through every limb, every nerve ending.

You cried out Shouto’s name, clenching around him, and then he was abandoning your clit to pull you up into him, grinding hard. His pace grew faster, more frantic, and he panted into your throat, until he was following you off the edge, pouring himself into you, filling you up from the inside.

You shivered and shook against him until finally the wave of your pleasure crested. Shouto relaxed over you as your limbs went slack too. He pressed a kiss to your mouth, slow and languid.

“Definitely Tokyo’s hottest hero,” you said muzzily, your words a little slurred. “The world’s hottest hero, even.”

Shouto huffed a tiny laugh. “I only need to be your hottest hero,” he told you, his heterochromatic eyes pinning you earnestly.

You smiled up at him, running a hand absently through his scarlet and white mop of hair, the silky strands slipping through your fingers.

“You always have been. Before I loved you, but especially now that I love you this much,” you told him.

Shouto smiled, then, a pleased, half-moon grin, so beautiful and so clever that it knocked the wind right back out of you again. You leaned up to kiss him again, soaking in his private beauty, pleased that you out of everyone got to have him like this. And you would make him feel it again—you wanted to show him again how much he meant to you.

He was Tokyo Beat’s Hottest Hero—but he was your most beautiful, beloved, cherished hero. And that was a thousand times better. So you’d show him a thousand times over.

You rolled over him, delighting in the slight widening of those beautiful eyes, the tiniest quirk of interest on that perfect mouth.

You’d show him—starting right now.

DABI LOOKS GOOD WITH PINK

WE HAVE BEEN BLESSED

Batteries

I personally prefer car guys over bike guys but bike guys r still so hot😩

ROARING ENGINES — streetracer!dabi x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: Your boyfriend, a streetracing!Dabi, invites you to take a ride with him, which ends in an annoyingly teasing makeout session.

WARNINGS: unsafe driving, needy dabi (<3), slightly suggestive, reader is able to fit in dabi’s lap with ease— i apologize for the lack of plus-sized inclusivity; however, i couldn’t pass up this request!! i am a minor. do NOT interact if you are a stricly mdni account.

W/C: 1.7k

A/N: oh. my days. i love this so bad. I LOVE THIS SO BAD!!!! this was an amazing experience. one of the scenes in this fic was inspired by this scene in fast n furious. UGH. love. anywho, requested by @sepptember , proofread by @ikn9wyou!! follow auggie and alani. they have wonderful ideas.

Your boyfriend wasn’t one for showing off— he was reserved. Didn’t care for most people’s opinions. Unless he was on the road. When Dabi’s speeding down the highway, he wants everyone to hear. Especially you.

You were sitting on your apartment couch, the blue light from the TV shining on your face. You weren’t really even watching the show that was on, moreso doom scrolling through various apps— opening and closing them as though they were a fridge and you were hoping more food would magically appear.

Unfortunately, nothing caught your eye.

You let out a loud sigh, changing positions so you were laying down now. That’s when you heard it.

An engine revved from outside of your apartment complex, loud enough to make you wince at the sound. Then, you got a text.

Butterflies formed in your stomach— an often occurrence when it came to Dabi. Despite him literally being your boyfriend, he never failed to make your stomach do cartwheels any time you even thought about being around him. Your thumbs hovered over your phone, thinking about what to say.

Within seconds, the man hearted your message, as if he was waiting on the chat for you to respond. Your heart fluttered as you shot up from your spot on the couch, rushing to your bedroom to find something to wear.

After an eternity of searching and creating a mess of clothes on your floor, you had found the perfect outfit. You grabbed your phone and left your apartment, locking the door on your way out.

The elevator ride down to the first floor felt 50 years longer than normal— which was both good and bad; good because you got time to calm your stupid nerves, and bad because you didn’t want to wait to see your boyfriend any longer. As soon as you heard the “ding!”, indicating that the elevator had reached the bottom floor, you practically charged out of the building, looking for Dabi’s car.

There it was, the navy blue Camaro ZL1– bass bumping and engine roaring. That was definitely him. You hurried to the passenger door. Dabi rolled down his tinted windows. His cyan eyes seemingly glowed in the streetlight and you swore you were being seduced.

“Gonna get in?” His slightly raspy voice broke the silence.

You carefully opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. Dabi looked at you, awaiting something. You gave him a slightly confused look, likely muddied by the darkness of the night.

“Well? Where’s my kiss, huh?” He asked you, a hint of impatience sewn into his tone. You giggled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He huffed, apparently not satisfied.

“What was that about?” You asked him.

“Nothin’.” The white haired man brushed it off and tossed you his phone. “You’re on aux.” He told you, you put on one of your favorite playlists— one that consisted of erotic songs. When you pressed the shuffle button, Poison by Brent Faiyaz began playing.

As the song began, Dabi shifted gears from neutral to drive and carefully pulled away from the cramped street.

His caution didn’t last long, though. As soon as he was out of the packed road, he sped up. His engine revved loudly as he did so and he moved his hand from the stick shift to the knob of the radio. He turned the knob to the right, making the music louder. After adjusting it to his liking, he rested his free hand on your thigh. His other was controlling the wheel, though his attention wasn’t fully on it. He was occupied with you. He watched as you hung your head slightly out of the open window, wind blowing your hair out of your face and giving him a perfect view of your features.

How can a singular human being be so flawless?

The man was enamored by you. In his eyes, you were a spectacle. A trophy that he, somehow, had won. And goddamn, was he proud of his trophy.

You looked to see him staring right back at you, making butterflies erupt yet again. In order to hide your fluster, you snapped your fingers at him.

“Eyes back on the road, Dabi.” He hummed in response and looked forward. You faced towards the window again, feeling the cool air on your cheeks. Dabi sped up as the song ended and the next one played. Slow Dancing in the Dark by Joji.

As the engine of his car became white noise, you asked Dabi where you were going.

“Dunno,” He said nonchalantly. “Just driving.” You couldn’t help but smile at Dabi’s voice. You’d play it on repeat if you could.

You began singing along to the radio, making Dabi chuckle. He joined in quietly, unintentionally harmonizing with you.

“Can’t you see? I don’t want to slow dance,” The two of you sang. “In the dark.”

The song continued and you two made conversation, talking about your days and how the two of you missed each other.

“Sorry ‘m so busy, babe.” He apologized. “A lot’s going on with the League right now.” You accepted his apology, because truthfully, that didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was here, with you, in this moment.

The conversation carried on for another 20 minutes, and by now, you were out of the city. Flat, dark farmland stretched out as far as the eye could see. You looked up at the sky from your window— without the light pollution, everything was darker, causing the stars to shine brighter. You stared in awe for a moment at the gorgeous things, mesmerized.

Dabi, finally out of city limits, sped up to 160. You could feel your stomach drop as he sped up. You rolled your window up and said, “Dabi, slow down.” The man smirked.

“Why, ya scared?” He sped up to 180 in a matter of seconds.

“Yes, I am!” You retorted. He pouted mockingly.

“Awh, poor thing.” 185. You smack his arm lightly, making him laugh once more. He finally slowed down. Then, he patted his lap, confusing you slightly. “Well? C’mon.”

“Yeah, right.” You rolled your eyes at him. “While you’re driving?”

“What??” He asks, trying to sound innocent. “I mean it. C’mere.” His eyes were still fixated on the road.

Slightly awkwardly, you crawled over the center console and into his lap— your back was against the door and your head facing his. You smelled his cologne, a hint of vanilla and cinnamon.

Playfully, you dug your nose into the crook of his neck, trying to breathe in all of his scent. He smiled. “You’re ticklin’ me, Y/N.”

“I can’t help it,” you said with your head still buried. “You smell so good!” Another laugh was shared and it was quiet for the moment, the two of you relishing in one another’s peace. That’s when you got your grand idea.

You were going to tease him.

You planted a light kiss on his collarbone, and then another on his neck, and then another on his jaw. You continued this pattern for a minute or two, giving all of your attention to his neck and jaw. Once you seemed to be done, he looked down owards you, expecting you to kiss his lips, but you didn't. Instead, you kissed his cheek and went back to breathing in his scent.

“Y/N.” He said quietly.

“Hm?”

“My lips.” It was as if he thought you forgot, as if he was reminding you; you didn’t forget, though. You smiled semi-mischievously, realizing he hadn’t picked up on your teasing.

You looked up at him again and acted as though you were going to kiss him. To catch him off guard, you paused right before you did so and pecked the corner of his mouth. His face morphed from content to annoyance.

“What?” You tried to sound pure and innocent, as if you didn’t know what you were doing.

“You know what. Kiss my lips.” You couldn’t hide your smirk as he spoke. He almost sounded needy, like he had to have you kiss his lips. You pretended to think for a second. Then, you kissed the corner of his mouth again. He leaned into you this time, trying to make you kiss his lips, but to no avail. You dodged his efforts and continued to pepper smooches everywhere but his mouth.

Dabi groaned, eyeing you with an even more annoyed look than before.

“I don’t want to beg, Y/N, kiss my lips.” He almost demanded. “Not my neck, not my cheek, my lips.” You let out a laugh.

“But it’s so fun when you beg!”

“It’s not fun for me..” He grumbled. You almost felt bad, like you were actually doing something wrong by not kissing him on the mouth— not that that would stop you. When you wanted to do something, you were determined. And that something just so happened to be riling up your boyfriend.

So, you continued kissing him, getting ever so close to his mouth just to pull away at the last second. You could tell Dabi was getting frustrated, and that just made the experience all the more enjoyable. After a few more failed attempts of trying to make out with you, Dabi sighed loudly and sped up his vehicle once again.

“You are such a brat.” He hissed. “Stop teasing me.”

“Why? Is it working?”

“No— ‘ts not working. Cut it out.” Dabi denied.

“Seems like it is..” You mumbled to yourself.

“Only thing it’s doing is pissing me off.” You smiled smugly and cupped his face in your hand.

“Awh, I’m sorry baby.” You mocked his tone from earlier. Finally, you slowly kissed his lips, this time not pulling away.

Dabi leaned into you, perhaps more needily than he intended. He was starving for your touch. Your soft lips on his. His tongue easily slid into your mouth, intertwining with yours.

This man was yearning for you. You knew he wanted you, but damn, you didn’t know he wanted you this badly.

Your hands ran through Dabi’s surprisingly soft hair, massaging his scalp slightly. He was upset he couldn’t give you all of his undivided attention, what with also having to focus on the road. So, he did what any horny guy would do. He pulled over to the side of the road and effortlessly shifted your hips so now you were straddling him.

“Think it’s time to get you back for what you did, love.” He sighed almost maliciously. You were in for a ride, and you had no one to blame but yourself.

🏷️’s : @rueclfer , @seneon !

Why does he text like..... A very specific friend.....

orrrrder up! ft. touya todoroki (3)

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

warnings&a/n: you know the drill guys keys jokes and bullying. sy has learned that she's verrrry bad at leading up to romance so if this is bad then look away. thanks you.... and crazy how i literally have the material to already start on a part 4 my brain is straining from this. ALSO touya owns a motorcycle. he is a biker. you can't take this away from me. I LOOOVE YOU GUYS XOXOXOXOXO!!!!!

link to part 1 || part 2

mha // fic recommendations

note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works

bakugou katsuki

defiant say it with your hands darling it's better (down where it's wetter) statistically significant how to set fires mr. fixer upper the red of fate meets the blue of twitter verification

shoto todoroki

if i could keep cool break the glass (in case of emergency) something new strawberry scented dreams flare loads of fun mr. tokyo beat hottest hero

dabi / touya todoroki

not a proposal an arsonist's lullaby running errands i'm melting in your eyes, like the first time that i caught fire (just stay with me, lay with me now) it's conditional laundromat

hawks / takami keigo

lay low take it slow birb puns crawl home to me paper cranes little bird no need

eijiro kirishima

the marionettist would you like me to stay forever revenge paws for panic red crush culture in one kiss, you'll know all i haven't said

denki kaminari

body electric streams truth or dare seven minutes of humor in your arms why are you so pretty?

this beautiful prose piece will be engraved in my heart, if you visit please give it a read. they are overflowing with beautiful words and emotions. it made my heart burn my belly flip and i could feel the flowers blooming in my gut. i want to experience love as pure as this

012. CARNATIONS

Friday morning came all the same—and the pending sadness you believed to come with the sunrise never did. Yes, it was your last day here at the Todoroki household. But knowing you and Touya would be going back to the hospital together was reassuring enough to soothe all your nerves.

The majority of breakfast was filled with secret smiles passed between you and Touya. His eyes were always wandering—always trailing back to you. And the sensation of his heated gaze alone made your head feel like it had been stuffed to the brim with cotton.

The Todorokis didn't notice anything off between you and Touya—he was always close by when you were near, but he seemed to be a little more clinger than usual.

But you were Touya's anchor. You grounded him. You made him feel safe, wanted, loved—so many emotions he wasn't used to having. It was overwhelming, all these new emotions. But he welcomed the tidal wave of feelings in with open arms. He would drown in this emotion if he could. He's not sure if there's a name for it, but Touya had become entirely dependent on you.

You didn't notice this—but every chance Touya got, he kept some part of his body touching yours. It could just be his shoulder bumping gently against yours, or his pinky grazing your knee under the table—any little touch would work to that keep that insatiable craving of his fed.

Touya ability to feel was... odd. He either felt something with every fiber of his being, or he felt nothing at all. His love was fierce, a forest fire all in its own. It was consuming, it was something that spread until it dominated everything.

Touya loved like he hated, with a burning passion.

Just hearing your name was enough to make Touya raise his head and tune into whatever conversation was going on. Actually hearing your voice had an entirely different effect on him—because suddenly, his pupils are dilating and he can't hear a single sound besides the words leaving your lips—and Touya has to physically fight the urge to press his fingers against the column of your throat just so he can feel the vibrations of your voice box as you speak

His family's goodbye was bittersweet. But even though Touya was leaving—this was not goodbye forever.

Touya was getting better day by day. His physical and mental wounds were being healed by your sparkling eyes and doting hands, and he's surrendering all he was and ever will be to you.

This past week had been heaven on earth for Touya. As he got into the backseat of the van with you, he was already looking forward to working more on writing his letters to Shoto back at the hospital. You'd help him like always—because you're the best. You're the best doctor, friend, and companion he could ask for—you're the best everything.

The drive back is peaceful. Most of the roads are empty due to how early in the day it is, but Touya doesn't mind it at all. It gives him a greater view of Japan's scenery outside. The rolling green hills and the snow coated branches of trees creates a whimsical view for him to quietly appreciate and admire.

You're asleep with your head resting on Touya's shoulder, and he has his cheek smushed against the side of your head. He keeps one hand intertwined with yours, and he uses his other hand to keep his fingertips pressed against your pulse point—the reassuring beating of your heart is a calming melody.

The drive is a little over an hour, but he's back within the familiar hospital walls soon enough.

While walking down the hallway with you, Touya was practically glued to your side. The pristine walls and floors of the hospital made him a little uneasy sometimes, but he was looking forward to returning to his little room soon enough.

You're telling Touya about how there's going to be a storm tomorrow, and how you'd just gotten a statewide notification on your phone. He's nodding his head along to your words—before his eyes catch on another patient’s door that's been left ajar.

Every patient had identical rooms. They all had the tall wooden doors and silver handles for their entrance and bathroom. Each room had a hospital bed, a side table, a TV, a small coffee table with two chairs, and a pull out bed.

But as Touya's eyes looked over to take in this patient's room, he couldn't help but notice how much more different it was from his own.

There were no paper snowflakes hanging from the windows. There were no colorful pens scattered over tables and pages of unfinished letters strewn across the room. There were no board games, no uno cards scattered all over the bed. There wasn't a single sign of life in there besides the half empty coffee mug sitting on the edge of the patient's bedside table.

There was no you, he decided.

Touya's quiet the rest of the way to his room.

Touya didn't believe in luck or fate, those invisible forces didn't feel like they applied to someone like him. They were saved for ordinary people—people like you who deserved good things.

But what else could explain your presence in his life? He certainly didn't deserve you, Touya was sure of that. He didn't deserve anything after the war. He nearly lost his family, but he didn't. He nearly lost an arm, but he didn't. He nearly lost his life, but he didn't.

But you weren't a product of fate or luck—no, meeting you was some sort of a divine intervention.

Touya, you deserve to be happy too.

He remembers when you had uttered those words to him one night when his thoughts had trailed too far again, and he had scoffed at you then. He snapped at you, telling you to go away because you clearly don't see how he doesn't deserve shit.

He winces at the unwanted memory. Those were the earlier days when he was still warming up to you, and he'll forever regret taking his misdirected hurt out on you, of all people. But even after he acted out and behaved like a total brat, you still loved him. You had seen the ugliest parts of Touya, seen him at his worst, seen him at his absolute lowest—and you were still here. Right by his side, just like you'd promised.

Maybe he does deserve you. And for once, he doesn't feel selfish for the thought. Touya can love too—he can be kind and he can be gentle. He knows his depraved sense of humor somehow manages to make you laugh, he knows the spot right under your ear is weak and ticklish for his kisses, and he knows you love him.

Touya doesn't even notice the two of you have finally reached his room until he accidentally walks right into your back. A small sound of surprise leaves your lips before you smile. He blinks himself out of his daze before stretching his lips into that handsome smile that never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

Wordlessly, Touya tugs you through the door. He never thought this hospital room would become something he'd miss—but he recognizes the space he had grown into and come to love. Yes, this was a room filled with memories he never wanted to forget. Countless nights he'd spent laughing till his stomach hurt with you, and even more nights where he spilled his heart's darkest secrets to you.

And suddenly, Touya realizes it was a room that felt more like home than the Todoroki household ever did.

Touya's hug is unusually tight. He bundles you up in his arms and cradles the back of your head to his chest, his arms wound tight around your form. You can sense he's overwhelmed by something he can't voice—so you do what you're best at.

Your hands move up and down the length of his back, rubbing big and comforting circles. His lips are slow as they meet yours, and his blunt fingertips dip gentle crescent moons into your skin as he holds your face

"I love you," He whispers, his voice hoarse and cracking with emotion. You're cooing softly as you help him into bed, whispering affirmations into his ear that have him practically collapsing in your arms. He's being babied—Touya knows he is.

But God, it felt good to finally feel like he was worth something.

You didn't leave Touya's room until you could absolutely confirm he had drifted into dreamland. Touya fell asleep smiling, and the sight was so precious that you almost didn't want to leave.

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip gently, chewing on it as you board the elevator towards the end of the hall. You hit the down button, fingers curling around the strap of your bag as you tap your foot against the ground idly.

The metals doors slide open with ease after a few moments, the gentle ding! sounding through the small space, indicating you had arrived onto the ground floor.

But the sight you're met with on the other side of the door makes you want to drag the metal doors close with your bare hands and slam the up button as hard as you can—

And suddenly, your hands feel clammy and your mouth goes dry as your supervisor tugs you along with clouded eyes—her mouth is set into a firm line, and your colleagues flutter around you nervously. All of their faces are twisted with an emotion you don't understand—and your heart positively drops to the floor when you're pulled into a meeting room with Enji Todoroki sitting at the front.

Enji's shoulders are squared, and he's hunched forward just the slightest bit as his gaze narrows in on you. Someone's telling you to sit down—but you can't breathe. Your chest physically hurts as your supervisor leads you to a chair as gently as she can manage—her usual hard gaze is broken, completely shattered and revealing the unspoken sadness beneath

And you finally realize. They know—because Enji is suddenly tossing a handful of blurry photographs onto the table. He's yelling loudly at someone, his tone rough and demanding attention. But you can't meet his gaze, and your eyes are burning like he's lit them on fire himself.

Because those are pictures of you and Touya kissing. Those are pictures of you and Touya holding hands. Those are pictures of you and Touya murmuring lowly to each other with your foreheads pressed together.

The photographs are grainy—they were obviously taken at night, and it looked like they were taken through a God damn window. It sounds like someone is yelling at Enji for spying, but you can't find the strength to try and organize the chaos around you

This wasn't supposed to happen. You promised yourself nothing like this would happen.

"She clearly isn't suitable enough to decide when I can visit my son. The nerve this woman has to say she may never allow me to see him again is ridiculous. He is my son, and she clearly isn't a good doctor if she has relations like this with him."

He grills you down with that forever present scowl, and the tears brimming in your eyes are traitorous as they roll down your cheeks silently

Enji did all of this because he wanted to see Touya sooner. He spied on you to find something to use against you. And he had just unknowingly ruined your entire career.

People who can swim in their money and power are careless when it comes to people who are nowhere near as privileged. They don't understand how delicate some situations are—and how power and money can't solve every problem. A muscle in Enji's jaw ticks when your supervisor's trembling voice speaks up—telling him that you'll be removed immediately from Touya's care.

"Fired? No, no that's not what I need. What I need is for another doctor to reevaluate Touya's condition and understand that he is ready to see me. I know I was an unexpected visitor the last time I came, but—"

Your supervisor cuts him off sharply

"You have presented us with photo evidence of Y/n breaking company policy. It doesn't matter what your goal was from all of this, because now we have no choice but to fire her. You blew up and sent these to the hospital's board and all the higher ups before speaking to us about the situation directly. They're erasing all of her files as we speak."

Something in Enji's hard gaze falters at her words

"In your email to the board, you described the situation as if Y/n took advantage of Touya's mental state. You made her look like—like a monster. And she was the best thing to happen to your son." She spat, words calculated and cruel as she glares at Enji with nothing but hatred simmering in her gaze

The cries you had been trying so desperately to hold back finally escape, and a strangled sob leaves your lips. The broken sound tears through the air like a knife. Enji blinks as if he doesn't understand a single word that leaves your supervisor's lips before his eyes harden again

"I don't want her fired—"

"But that's what's going to happen! What else could you expect?" She explodes, tears of frustration in her eyes as she grips the back of your chair with trembling fingers

You've worked under this woman for years. She was a constant in your work life–and she'd helped you become a wonderful doctor over time. But this one slip up—one that could've been controlled if Enji hadn't intervened—would mean the end of your time here.

And Enji knows you were the only doctor Touya was willing to cooperate with. The only one he would even listen to.

"Did you know we had to add another month to Touya's rehabilitation plan when Y/n took one sick day? He behaved absolutely terribly in those few hours. He went backwards in terms of progress. And now, Y/n will not be allowed to treat him ever again. Do you understand what you've done?"

And reality finally slaps Enji in the face. Hard. Because his entire demeanor deflates in a second as his face falls

He finally glances at you, and you're an absolute wreck.

You're tugging at your hair, your lips are quivering as you struggle to stay quiet and keep your emotions in check. Even though it didn't matter if you started wailing at the top of your lungs—you had already lost your job, there was no need to try and compose yourself now. But you remain ever professional, stifling your cries as much as you can as your chin wobbles.

Someone's rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you, and Enji takes a step away from you like he's been physically struck

You had just failed Touya. You failed him.

He was sleeping blissfuly unaware a few floors up, oblivious to the fact that your carelessness was going to destroy everything you had worked so hard on building

Touya's heart is fragile. He was going to break.

Touya needs you like an artist needs their muse. Touya needs you like a dancer needs their music. Being separated from you would be like tearing a flower out of the ground—he would just wilt and waste away until there was nothing left.

CARNATIONS MASTERLIST.

a/n; i know a lot of people talk about touya's eyes but wow...they really are so beautiful. like, they are other worldly. i'm rewatching clips of him and oh my goshh he is my muse forever and ever idfc how many new interests i get over the years. no one can come close to the place he has in my heart. 🥺

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look but don't touch

I laughed so hard at this I'm not lying 😭😭😭