Todoroki Touya X Reader - Blog Posts

Jealousy, Jealousy (MHA/Fem!Reader)

Summary: Where you're not jealous. Definitely not. (MHA characters reacting to their girlfriend getting jealous. Part 1?)

Characters: Dabi, Aizawa

Content: Jealousy. Violence and Unhinged!Reader in the Dabi one.

MHA-MHA-MHA

Dabi

You stalked out of the bar, leaving behind the chaos you just caused.

Cold rage coursed through your veins, your pulse pounding in your throat. You could still see that woman's hands all over Dabi, hear the sweet words she was whispering in his ear. That stupid look on her face, the confidence she had that she would be able to take what was yours.

She's lucky all you gave her was a few broken bones.

A hand caught your wrist and you reacted quickly, spinning around drawing on your quirk, ready to strike.

"Take it easy, Angel," Dabi's grinning face, full of twisted amusement, both calmed and paradoxically infuriated you. "It's just me."

You scoffed, the sound a cobra's hiss, and let up on your quirk. You straightened up and pulled away from his grasp in favor of crossing your arms. You'd left him behind when you stormed out, eager to get out before you truly lost control.

He chuckled at your behavior, at the anger still radiating off of you. He was undaunted by it, moving closer, fingers skating along your upper arms. "What was that about, pretty girl? Feeling jealous?"

"I'm not jealous," you spun away from him and began walking again, his skulking footsteps following you. "I just don't tolerate anyone disrespecting me to my face."

"Sure, sure," he obviously didn't buy it.

"Don't piss me off," you snapped, walking faster, "you weren't exactly discouraging the attention, you know."

"And miss out on the show?" you were spun around to face him again and he pushed you up against a wall. His eyes pierced you, his voice a pleasant purr, "not a chance."

You tried to hold onto your anger, but a new kind of heat burned through you at the look on his face, the feeling of his hand running up your side. He nuzzled into your neck, his tongue dragging along your skin and making you shiver.

"Do you know how fucking sexy you looked? Raging like that, all over little old me," he grabbed a handful of your hair, tilting your head back so he could gain better access to your neck. "Vicious girl..."

Your eyelids fluttered and you gripped his shoulders tight as he began to bite and suck at your neck. Possessive lust hazed over your mind and you pulled him closer.

Dabi was yours, and you'd tear apart anyone who dared to try and take him from you.

Aizawa

It was stupid.

You were a grown woman, well beyond the age of petty bouts of jealousy-

And yet.

Sometimes, seeing Shouta's friends, like Miss Joke and Midnight, playfully flirt with him in the way that they did...

It got to you.

And you hated it. Because you knew they were just joking, knew they had no interest in Shouta. And Shouta never entertained their jokes at all, shooting them down in that stern way of his. You had nothing to worry about.

But sometimes, you could still feel the heat rise up under your collar, the tension in your jaw, the urge to tell them to knock it off sitting ready on your tongue. But you didn't. You didn't want to be that girl. You didn't want to make a big deal out of an obvious joke, be the girlfriend that was so insecure she had to bare her teeth at every woman that came near her man.

So you said nothing. But that didn't mean Shouta didn't notice something was bothering you. He knew you so well.

MHA-MHA-MHA

"What's the matter?"

You blinked, glancing over at Shouta as his voice brought you out of your thoughts. The two of you had just left after getting dinner with some of your UA colleagues and were walking home. At some point, after a few rounds of drinks, Midnight had turned her suggestive persona in Shouta's direction. You'd also had a drink or two at this point and couldn't help but leave the table, using the excuse of needing the restroom to step away and cool off for a while. The attempt to calm down didn't work, and you'd remained quiet and closed off for the rest of the evening.

"Nothing," you weren't very convincing, you knew, but you still tried. "Nothing's the matter."

"Hm," he hummed thoughtfully, not saying anything for a few minutes as you continued on your walk. But that didn't mean he was dropping the subject, "you've been quiet since Kayama started in on her antics."

Your mouth twisted into a soft grimace when he hit the nail on the head, "...she was just joking," you said, something you reassured yourself of many a time.

"She was," he agreed quietly, "but it still bothered you."

It wasn't a chastisement, merely an observation, but you still felt embarrassed. You didn't look at him, a horrid blush burning on your face as your silence answered for you.

His hand closed around yours, the familiar warmth a comforting balm to your nerves. "I'll tell her to stop. Joke, too." He really it all figured out, didn't he?

"No," you disagreed, and damn it, why was your throat tight? Why did your eyes burn? "I'm being- I'm just being childish."

"You're not being childish," slowly, Shouta stopped walking, pulling you to a stop as well. He used a gentle hand to guide you into looking up at him, and all you saw was his calm patience that you adored so much. "It's making you uncomfortable, so it's worth addressing."

His thumb brushed over your cheek, the tenderness of the action, of his words, coaxed a few tears out of you. You sniffled, nodding quietly. You still felt so embarrassed, but a part of you felt so relieved to finally have it out in the open, and to have Shouta take it seriously.

He brought you into a hug, and you pressed your face into his chest, the press of his hand resting on the back of your head grounding you.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

"Don't be," he said reassuringly.

(Requests)

˚୨୧₊♱ please don’t kill me mr ghostface, i wanna be in the sequel .ᐟ.ᐟ

ghostface!Dabi x fem!reader

˚₊♱ cw: smut, creampie, knife play, mentions of blood, fingering, derogatory remarks, degradation & praise mixed together cause I’m a slut for both, jealous possessive Dabi. MDNI +18

˚₊♱ word count: 4.6k

˚₊♱ A/N: my contribution for this year’s halloween, here comes your favorite psycho killer 🔪

It all came down to a fun event held at the PLF headquarters, something Toga and Twice had mostly insisted on, a Halloween party. The rest of the members were unsure, some calling it a waste of time with such childish matters, but as more thought was put into this, Shigaraki and Re-Destro in the end agreed. Some fun never hurt nobody, and the League deserved some fun time after all they had been through to achieve what they had today. Just one night to forget about the exhaustion of everything and enjoy the time.

You couldn’t deny, the thought of a Halloween party had you thrilled, the most exciting part were the costumes and makeup and the creativity that came with it. The rules for this celebration were clear: the dress code was a halloween costume, whatever it was, it didn’t matter. Even though some of the villains looked “scary” enough to the point no costumes were needed. One of these villains being a certain raven haired flame user, who was less than thrilled for such waste of time, as he said.

“Technically you’re a modern day Frankenstein, I doubt you’ll need anything to wear!” Toga said, pointing at Dabi’s piercings and staples all over his face.

“Emo Frankenstein!” Twice exclaimed.

“The party hasn’t even started and you both are already a damn headache” Dabi rolled his eyes, putting down his cigarette in the ashtray and leaning back on the couch. The League had gathered together in the lobby to enjoy some nice food before the party started later this evening.

“Hey guys, don’t be rude!” you said, hoping that Toga’s words didn’t offend Dabi in a way whatsoever, even though he didn’t really seem to care. “You could also be Hades you know? The one from the movie Hercules…who has blue flames for hair? That’s an easy option as well”

“Yeah? I think I’d need my pretty Persephone by my side” he grinned. “Would ya be willing for the role perhaps?”

His teasing question had you almost choking on the water you were drinking, the mental image of you both as Hades & Persephone had you feeling all warm inside. Oh, if only..

“Just kiddin’. Thanks for the suggestion doll, but I doubt I’ll be coming to such stupid party. Shit’s not for me,” he continued, before facing you. “But maybe I’ll pass by just to see what you will be wearing~”

“That’s a secreeet!” you grinned, though you still hadn’t decided what to wear. Too many options laid on the table.

“Yeah? Gonna be so scary people will drop dead at the mere sight of you?” he teased and you kicked his arm. “Or maybe so enchanting you’ll haunt everyone’s minds for the night, hm?”

“You worried you might be one of the victims and fall for me or something?” you smirked which earned a chuckle out of him.

“We’ll see who the victim is going to be, babe” he winked, the sentence sounding threatening and yet thrilling too.

“Oh no! Somebody’s dying tonight!” Toga giggled. “Imagine though, wouldn’t it be exciting? A serial killer going stabby stabby on Halloween night, like in the movies!”

“I’d rather live to see the day thank you” you said awkwardly, noticing Dabi grinning.

“Ya’ scared?” he asked.

“As if!”

The rest of the afternoon was spent on getting ready. You had thought for you and Toga to dress up together as the angel and the devil, though she changed her mind at the very last minute and chose to be a vampire instead. You didn’t mind, being a vampire actually fit her, knowing her bloodlust. Unfortunately there was no time left for you to get other costumes and pick something else, so you got stuck as an angel. Without a devil friend. Being an angel wasn’t your absolute favorite option, but the costume made you look ethereal: a shiny white short dress with frills and bows, pretty angel wings on your back, a halo on your head, your hair nicely done and soft glowy makeup on your face. Out of many options, being an angel was the easiest and the quickest, not to say the prettiest as well, so you didn’t bother to change it. It could also pass for a white swan costume too, out of the many options you had searched with Toga on the internet to match together.

Soon enough you met the rest of the group: Twice decided to be Deadpool, Compress remained in his magician outfit, Shigaraki had surprisingly dressed up as well, a game character from the League of Legends which you had no idea of, but he looked so cool. You encouraged him to wear that costume on daily basis as well.

You rushed to the underground arena where the party would be held, and it was already booming with loud music, crowds cheering and partying, the place filled with halloween decorations, and you just knew it was going to be the best night ever. Though only something was missing. Someone.

Dabi had already decided he would not be participating , though he had been meaning to show up and look at how everyone had dressed up.

No, in fact, he was interested in you. Him not joining the party had you upset, but at least the thought of his eyes on you, checking your cute angel outfit had you excited.

Though as minutes passed, he was nowhere to be seen. You decided to text him, feeling nervous, not wanting to sound too desperate.

You: hey Dabi, aren’t you coming?

After a minute or two, you received a text back.

Dabi: Ain’t making it tonight, doll. Too tired, I’m thinking of calling it a night and just pass out.

You: oh, okay then, sleep well!

Turning off your phone you let out a sigh of frustration, disappointed that he wouldn’t see you tonight. Of course you’d still have fun with the rest, but as you had applied your makeup earlier and dolled yourself up, your mind was occupied only by Dabi.

“Heeeey angel, why so serious tonight? Come on, let’s dance!” Toga’s loud voice snapped you out of your thoughts. The little vampiress grabbed both of your hands and pulled you to the dance floor along with Twice.

“I love this song!” you shouted, finally catching up with the rhythm of the music and enjoying yourself, not paying much attention to the prying eyes of the audience from afar. The sight of you dancing confidently, swaying your body and lost in the music, managed to get quite the attention from many people. Here and there people would come and join you, men you didn’t recognise, dancing with you as well. You didn’t mind, already made up your mind to enjoy this night at the fullest.

He doesn’t like that one bit.

As you danced, from time to time you would catch a quick glimpse of someone, who was in the middle of the crowd but not dancing like the rest. He was tall, dressed in dark clothing, gloves, and a mask which you recognised to be Ghostface from the movie “Scream”. At first you didn’t pay attention to him, but as time passed, you noticed the Ghostface killer was in fact staring at the dance floor where everyone was dancing.

Staring at you.

“I’m gonna grab a drink!” you told Toga who probably didn’t even hear you. Turning your head back as you left the dance floor, you noticed Ghostface started walking too, keeping his distance, but still observing you as you grabbed your drink. You felt awkward, and almost creeped out. Maybe it was some stupid prank and probably he was doing this with other people as well.

Except he wasn’t.

Thirty minutes had passed and the man with the ghostface mask had been observing you the whole time. There behind the crowd, tall dark figure standing out easily from everyone who was dancing. It made you frustrated, so you decided to run towards his direction. Walking through the crowd was difficult, but as you reached your destination you noticed he had vanished. You eyed the whole area, but you couldn’t find him anymore, it was like he disappeared off the face of the earth.

“Weirdo” you scoffed, relieved that he had gone away. Being watched like that made it awkward for you to enjoy the party.

Just like in the movies, Toga’s words echoed in your mind. Yeah, and Ghostface apparently had picked you as a first victim. The thought was ridiculous, but it still sent a shiver down your spine.

After a while you had the need to use the restroom so badly. Getting out of the party arena, you walked through the empty hallways to find the restrooms. At some point you regretted not bringing Toga with you, the silence and darkness were creeping you out. Quickly you ran for the restroom and finished your business, before looking at yourself in the mirror once more and fixing your makeup.

A sudden noise had your soul jumping out of your body. Slow, heavy footsteps were approaching, tap, tap, tap, as they got closer, louder.

“..hello?” you called out, but no answer. The footsteps had stopped, nobody entered the restroom. You gulped, fear rising in your heart as you slowly got out, eyes searching for anybody nearby. The place was empty.

But there was someone walking outside!

“Hellooo? Is someone here?” you called again, feeling anxiety tighten your chest. Re-Destro’s mansion was kind of creepy on its own, huge building filled with endless dark corridors that led you to god knows where. You still had yet to learn your way around this place.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

The footsteps again. You turned around, now sweating in fear.

“Wh-Who is there?! Hey, this isn’t funny!” you backed away, looking at some dark corner. From the shadows you saw a pair of boots appearing, slowly revealing someone.

Ghostface. The same one who was observing you earlier. He was now in front of you, towering over you as approached slowly.

“Huh? What do you think you’re doing you creep?! Cut this shit off, it’s not funny!” you shouted, but there was no answer on his side. Instead, he raised his hand slowly, revealing a sharp knife that he’d been holding this entire time.

“Oooh yeah wow, very creepy.” you snorted, but the more you looked at it, you realised that the knife was real. Dread settled deep in your gut as you looked at Ghostface gripping the handle of the knife tightly and walking towards you.

Finally, your legs gave in from being frozen in fear, and started to run. You let out a scream the moment he started running after you too, chasing you down the dark corridors. Panic had you hyperventilating, your high heels were making it difficult to outrun him. Loud heavy footsteps were sprinting towards you, the darkness of the hallways making it impossible to see the killer clearly, you could only hear him.

As stupid as it was, your legs sent you to a storage room, panic preventing you from thinking straight and find your way back to the party. You closed the door, quickly hiding behind some containers and sitting there in fear, shutting your mouth to not let out any noise. You had forgotten your phone in the restroom too. For a long time you’d find the protagonists in horror movies stupid and pathetic for not being able to think clearly on how to escape from the killer and get help, but now look at you. Even more stupid and pathetic than them, the thought would make you laugh if it wasn’t for the terrifying situation you were in.

Your hand reached to grab a hammer nearby, ready to attack in case he entered the storage room. Your quirk wasn’t fit to fight, and you cussed yourself for it.

Fuck, if only Dabi was here, he’d incinerate this fucker to ashes in seconds for pulling such insane prank on you.

The heavy footsteps from outside snapped you back to reality. Your heart was beating out of your chest, praying that this was just a prank and he’d only take it this far, that he’d leave you alone and go bother someone else. Your eyes widened as you heard him right outside the door, trying your best to swallow down the whimpers threatening to come out. It was a heavy silence that was suffocating you, for a moment you weren’t really breathing.

Not until the man outside kicked the door open with his boot, entering inside with ease. Your grip on the hammer tightened, and as soon as he approached your hiding place, you came out of it swaying the hammer to his direction, backing him away.

“Don’t you dare come closer!” your voice trembled as you tried to threaten him. You heard a faint chuckle under his mask, before he reached for you again, blocking your attack as his hands gripped on your arm, making you unable to hit him with the hammer. His strength was insane, twisting your arms in ways that had you dropping the hammer on the ground.

“Get away from me!!” you screamed loudly as strong gloved hands pulled you back by your angel wings, pushing you to the ground with ease.

“Stop it!! Let go!! Somebody help- mmmmphf!”

His hand was placed on your mouth, shutting you up and preventing you from screaming further. Finally tears started rolling down your cheeks, you had no idea who this creep was, and now the knife was brought closer to your face, the sharp tip tracing your tears slowly, as if wiping them. You laid there on your belly and him behind you, a trapped angel, unable to move or escape, what you thought was some stupid prank turned out to be worse. You had squeezed your eyes shut, breathing erratically, until you heard the same faint chuckle coming from the man on top of you. For a second you stopped breathing, slowly opening your eyes and turning your head towards the man behind you. Glossy eyes were met with the terrifying ghostface mask that observed you.

That laugh, the familiar scent that you finally managed to recognise.

No way?!

Gloved hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips, as he got closer to your face, taking in your scent of fear. Then he grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks together.

“You look absolutely divine tonight…”

The familiar voice made your eyes wide.

“D-Dabi?!” you stuttered pathetically as he laughed, removing his mask. Relief washed over you, but at the same time anger quickly bubbled up.

“You fucking idiot!! This wasn’t funny, I-I thought I was going to die!” you whined, more tears rolled down your cheeks as he hushed you, wiping them clean. “I was about to hit you with a hammer too! You’re fucked in the head!”

“Aw my sweet angel, did I really scare you that bad huh?” he hummed, but he didn’t sound sorry at all. The fucker was enjoying it all. And he’d do it again if given the chance.

You tried to push him away, too angry at his stupid prank, but he managed to roll your body and lay you down on your back, keeping both your wrists locked with one hand, preventing you from moving.

“Couldn’t miss this night without looking at my girl..” he whispered, leaning closer to breathe down your neck and leave soft kisses “… and get a taste as well.”

“Ugh, you’re insufferable!” you scoffed, still not over the death scare he had pulled on you.

“But it’s Halloween baby,” Dabi said, kissing your jaw and then going for your pouty lips, giving them a teasing bite. “Don’t you want to recreate our own scary movie~?”

You rolled your eyes at his words. Though, his low husky voice followed with kisses and bites all over your neck and collarbone had you already hot and bothered, you couldn’t even stay angry at him for one second.

“Gotta admit.. you make a pretty good Ghostface” you said, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Yeah? And you’re such a sweet little victim too” he licked his lips, his hand sliding under your dress. “So beautiful f’me, how could I miss this?”

With a quick movement, he put the mask back on, grabbing the knife and putting it on your throat. Your breathing hitched, now frozen as his other hand found the hem of your panties.

“Dabi??”

“Shhh now, just stay still. Be a good girl and you won’t get cut, would be a real shame if something like that happened..”

Oh, so this is how it is. Having a knife pointed at you was by all means terrifying, but knowing it was Dabi, you knew he would never hurt you. The tables turned, and now what you found terrifying, had your panties dampening. He had already removed his gloves, and you could tell it was him by looking at the scars, though the mask stayed on.

Slender fingers skilfully managed to find their way to your weak intimate spot, slowly and teasingly dragging along your wet folds.

“You sure you were scared babe? I mean look at you..” his laugh came muffed under the mask. “Just admit you liked it, being chased like the pathetic pretty victim you are, ready for me to kill and devour~”

His fingers rubbed your clit as his nasty words went on, making your hips buck up and your breath hitch.

“Wanna see all kinds of pretty noises you let out for me tonight” Dabi whispered, plunging two fingers inside of you that made your body jolt. “Your cries, whimpers, moans, screams, give it all to me, don’t you dare hold back-”

The knife in your throat pressed further against your skin, the fear of him accidentally cutting your throat mixed with the pool of pleasure between your thighs. It was crazy, but your body responded in ways you didn’t even know it could.

“P-Please… don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel!” you said breathlessly, a giggle managed to escape your mouth. You were high on adrenaline, far too gone, and even if Dabi stabbed you in that moment you felt like you’d enjoy that too in some sick twisted way. He got closer, the ghostface mask right above your face as you pulled him in, spreading your legs further for the killer.

“I’d have killed you by now if you weren’t so fun to play with” he cooed in your ear, curling his fingers inside of you, the wet squelching sounds of your sloppy cunt had your face heated up in embarrassment. “Needy sluts like you need their brains fucked out, not bashed in”

The more he dragged his words, the closer you reached to your climax. His movements got rougher, fingers slamming into you faster.

“F-fuck..m’gonna cum.. f-feels so good.. Dabi!!” your moans got more high pitched as you reached your high. Almost forgetting the knife pressed tightly on your throat you squirmed beneath him, your eyes blurry, unable to focus on his mask as they rolled at the back of your skull.

“Atta girl, cum for me… need ya all nice n’ ready” he grunted, knuckles deep inside of you as orgasm washed all over you. Your hands gripped his shoulders, head falling back as your body trembled.

“How weak, ‘s that all it took to break ya?” Dabi laughed and you tried kicking him with your fists.

“S-Shut up…” you breathed out.

“Too bad, I’m not even done with you”

Without a warning he flipped your body around so you were laying on your belly again, pushing your head on the ground.

“Ass up” he said, pressing the cold knife on your asscheek as a warning. You obeyed his command, arching your back nicely to give him a good view, until his hand pulled your hair from behind, making you yelp in return.

“Y’know doll, I could say I’m still mad from earlier” Dabi said threateningly, his voice going an octave lower sending shivers down your spine.

“Mad? W-why?” you whispered, wondering what might’ve angered him. But then it clicked; the whole time you were dancing on the dance floor, not even noticing the eyes of many other villains nearby looking at you full of lust, at your swaying hips and flashy angel wings fluttering, easily grabbing the attention of everyone.

A playful grin spread across your face, you loved when he got jealous.

“Maybe instead of declining the offer to come to the party, you could’ve danced with me the whole time. But oh well.. other people got to enjoy me tonight so-”

“Ain’t you a little attention whore?” Dabi said through gritted teeth, his hand coming down to smack your ass so hard the loud sound echoed through the room. You hissed in pain, unable to move as you felt your asscheek go numb already.

“I had a change of heart at the last minute” he continued. “Grabbed a shitty costume nearby and decided to join the party. But to my surprise, I see your pretty ass dancing around mindlessly, sooo lost in the music you couldn’t even see those fuckers approaching to dance with you. And you just let them.”

You raised an eyebrow, wanting to test his jealousy even further. Playing with fire might get you burned, but that’s what you wanted. “How is that so wrong? You allergic to fun perhaps? I dance with who I want.”

Dabi positioned the sharp knife on your asscheek, the tip threatening to plunge itself on your skin. “Yeah? Maybe I haven’t made it clear enough then…”

What?

The knife slowly digged on your flesh, your eyes widened at the pain that had you screaming.

“D-Dabi what are you-fuck!! It hurtssss!!”

“You forget who you belong to, sweetheart” he said, continuing to carve into your asscheek what seemed to be his initial. Warm blood slowly rolled down your legs and so did your tears down your cheeks.

“My name carved on you will be a constant reminder of that” Dabi grinned, looking at the bloody mess. “No other man gets to even look at you, let alone touch you, got it?”

You whimpered a weak “yes”, trying to catch your breath. Suddenly the flat of the knife was pressed right against your bare pussy, the cold metal had you moaning in surprise.

“Look at you, you like it when I cut you up huh?” he bit his lip, watching you slowly grind your pussy on the knife. “Careful there baby, I need this cunt functional…”

“S-Stop teasing me!” you said, panting hard as Dabi pressed the knife further against you.

“Me? It’s all you, grinding on this knife like a pathetic bitch in heat.” he laughed crudely, before looking down at the bulge tightening his pants. After teasing you long enough, he unbuckled his belt, pulling out his hardened cock, piercings decorating his veiny shaft, tip red and leaking with pearly precum, bulging with anticipation to plunge into your needy hole as soon as possible. Leaning down beside you, he took out his phone, pulling you by your hair and making you face the camera in front of you. The flashlight of the camera brightened your teary face stained with the ruined makeup and messy hair, capturing the moment as the killer with the ghostface mask stood behind, as if mocking you before breaking you.

“Gorgeous..” Dabi grinned, looking at the picture, before his tip teases your glistening folds, sliding it inside of you with ease. A soft moan escaped your mouth as he stretched you out completely. Throwing the knife on the ground, his hands roughly grabbed your body, sliding underneath your clothes to grope your tits whilst the pace got faster. You couldn’t hold back the loud moans, arching your back more for him and spreading your legs fruther as he fucked you from behind.

“Fuck look at that-” he grunted, gripping the plump flesh of your ass while looking at the way his cock disappeared inside your greedy cunt. Blood had already coated your skin and lower back, making the view unable to resist for him.

“Mmhmm f-feels.. so goood.. more…” you whimpered mindlessly, drunk on his cock, the pain of his carved name on your skin already forgotten.

“More, huh?” Dabi said, stopping his movements. “Y’know what, angel slut? Show me how much you want it”

“H-Huh?”

“Fuck yourself on my cock”

Heat creeped up on your cheeks as he stood there motionless, his cock still hard inside you waiting for you to move. The mask was still on, his pants lowered and his shirt halfway up, showing his scarred abs and lower abdomen, glistening with sweat. Even fully dressed as a serial killer, this man looked hot. You kept your eyes on the man behind you as you began moving, going back and forth and fucking yourself on his cock just as he ordered. You felt every inch grinding against your gummy walls, making your head spin.

“Good girl…nghh fuck- that’s it” he moaned, placing his hands on your ass again to guide your movements. You felt so full, and yet wanted him deeper, to completely invade you.

“Dabi…wanna cum…” you said breathlessly, speeding up your movements but tiring yourself out in the process.

“Tch. C’mere…”

Pulling himself out, he flipped you over and laid you on your back, putting your legs on his shoulders and sliding it in again without a warning. The new position got you screaming, if you thought he was deep before, you were wrong. It’s like he could reach depths you never even knew you had, tearing you apart.

“F-fuck Dabi!!” you cussed out as he leaned in closer, your thighs now pressed against your tits as his hand wrapped around your throat. You looked at the ghostface mask as he fucked your brains out, desperation painting your face.

“Tell me what you want, pretty girl~” he said, not slowing the pace.

“W-wanna cum.. n’ want you to kiss me!” you pleaded, grabbing at his mask. He let you remove it, before crashing his lips against yours in a needy, hungry kiss. Moaning against his mouth, you felt the knot forming in your stomach explode as he kept hitting that certain spot over and over.

“That’s it princess…fuck you’re creaming all over this cock” Dabi said, looking at the mess where you two connected, the squelching noises and smell of sex had filled the room. He kept fucking in your trembling body as you saw stars, barely catching your breath as he reached for his own high. With a loud groan he shot loads inside of you, painting your insides white, some of it even leaking outside. It made you feel warm, full, so full of him.

Slowly he removed your legs from his shoulders, reaching in for another kiss, not pulling out of you just yet.

“Baby..” he whispered through the kisses, chuckling as he saw you barely responding. “Did my little victim already pass away?”

“Mmhmm… mr. Ghostface certainly knows how to make his victims scream” you teased, biting his lip.

Dabi grinned, gripping your hips. “Looks like I haven’t made you scream enough since you still got a voice in that throat of yours”

Your blush deepened, eyes widening at his words.

“That sounds like a threat”

“And a promise, sweetheart. Cause I’m not anywhere near done with you yet”

Nobody minded the screams and cries echoing from Dabi’s room through the hallways for the rest of that night. After all, it’s Halloween. Kill or get killed.

that pussy got MURDERED.

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DEVIL IN THE DARK : TODOROKI TOUYA x READER

SUMMARY: There is no price you will not pay for revenge—and a demon comes to collect. NOTES: First Prince of Hell Touya, gender neutral Reader, revenge, blood, slight body horror, SFW, 1.9k. I did not actually plan a proper Halloween fic this year so here you go!

It's cold on the crossroads, an icy wind whipping along the pavement, rustling in the trees. It sounds like hundreds of whispers in the dark, though you know the stretch of road around you is empty for miles.

That's the only way to summon the demon you're looking for—the only way they say he will answer. He is too clever to appear where he may be at a disadvantage.

Against one lone human, demon hunter though you may be, he stands every chance. Against you in particular, he fares even better. You are not the strongest in the League, were never the best in your class at the academy. You were more a strategist than a warrior, better with a pen than your regulation silver knife.

Your only certain way out is if the demon you're looking for chooses not to appear—or if his interest is adequately piqued by the deal you're offering. You do not know enough to be certain his attention will be assured.

Despite yourself, you take a breath and scratch his sigil in the dirt at the side of the road. It had taken you years to find, hidden by the Council after losing too many hunters eager to prove themselves against this specific demon.

But you are out for a very particular revenge. You would have searched your whole life if that is what it would have taken.

Nothing happens at first, as the final stroke of his sigil settles into the dirt. You wonder if he's chosen not to come.

But then, slowly, the wind dies down. The rustle of the trees grows softer, then still. The scant slivers of moonlight pool strangely in the road, like liquid silver dripping along the grooves of pavement. The wind trails off into a breeze, then the softest, sweetest hint of feeling, like the touch of a breath at your shoulder.

—A breath at your shoulder.

You jump, reeling sideways at the exhale across your skin. You barely choke down a scream when you catch sight of the man waiting behind you.

He's taller than you expected, long and lean. His looks are also surprisingly human, save for the twisting horns curling out of the inky black of his hair, and the patchwork of purpling burns over his skin, left by a magic you don't even want to contemplate.

He's shockingly handsome, though, under the burns, his features perfect, careful, delicate—almost angelic. His mouth is a soft, sensuous curl, at odds with the hard, exacting blue of his gaze. He is watching you like a cat tracking a bug skittering across the floor, and every particle in your body screams with the desire to flee.

You plant your feet firmly in the dirt instead, trying to steel your nerves. But the First Prince of Hell's mouth lifts, a derisive twist of amusement.

"Your kind might be fooled," he says, his voice a low drawl. "But I can hear your heartbeat, human."

As if on cue, you can feel your heartbeat stutter and skip. But still you still your shaking fingers against your thigh. This is what you have worked for; you have come with a plan.

"Prince Touya," you acknowledge him, willing yourself to sound calm. "I am here to make a deal."

A sardonic eyebrow lifts as his eyes flick meaningfully to the knife at your hip, then back up to your face. "A hunter looking to bargain with a demon?"

You force yourself to look into the burning cerulean of his eyes, twin points of eerie blue in the dim. "Yes."

Touya does not look even mildly interested. "Let me guess, you want me to hold still while you stab."

You certainly do, and Touya smirks when your expression gives you away. But there is one thing you want more than to prove your worth upon a demon prince. One thing you are certain you can only get from him.

"I want you to lure your father out," you grit your teeth, spitting the words out quickly before you lose your nerve.

Prince Touya visibly pauses, expression icing over. The shadows around you seem to deepen, and a cloud draws across the moon, casting you into an even deeper dark. A shiver crawls down your spine.

"My father," he spits out, his tone blacker than the night.

You force yourself to nod. All the legends say there is no love lost between the First Prince and the King of Hell, detailing their many clashes across the eons, and the destruction that followed in their wake. You only hope that they have not found it within themselves to make amends in the five hundred or so years since the most recent accounts were written.

"And what would a little nothing demon hunter do with the King of Hell?" Prince Touya demands, taking a step closer. He moves sinuously, like a curl of mist. "Your blade bears not even a drop of demon's blood—I can smell it."

It is true, you have never killed a demon. "It would not be me. I need you to lure him into the League's trap. And there will be others, many hunters equal to the task."

Prince Touya studies you for a long moment, those eyes glimmering in the dark. "The League's gotten more underhanded since I encountered you last. And what would I get out of this deal?"

"The throne of Hell," you say. "The death of your enemy."

Touya steps closer, near enough that you can feel the heat of him, smell the magic of Hell on him. He smells heady and dark, rich like cinnamon and smoke. His proximity makes your blood race.

"And this trap that's going spring closed will exclude me, will it?" he asks. There's a little rasp on the edge of his voice, you notice.

It wouldn't, and you had hoped the prince would not think to ask it. But he has not survived millennia being stupid.

Your non-answer is enough for him, and he snorts as he walks a wide circle around you. In the silence of the night you can clearly hear the crunch of his boots in the dirt. You stand stock-still and pretend you are not unnerved by his attention, by the way he paces with the slow, unhurried gait of a predator.

"This trap of yours," he says finally, "Who's devised it?"

You feel him pass behind your back. "I did."

"You who have never killed a demon," he says drily.

You try to quell your temper, knowing you would not survive it were you to raise his. "Not directly."

Prince Touya's grin is a wicked thing as he stops in front of you, catching your eye. It is a touch too wide, a touch too pleased. His teeth are too white, canines too sharp.

"I thought hunters were supposed to be honorable," he says, tone gloating.

Many things were supposed to be that weren't. Your family was supposed to be alive, for one. But the King of Hell had seen to that, and now nothing was as it should have been.

"I thought demons were supposed to crave deals," you reply. A non answer.

Touya circles behind you again, passing close enough that your skin prickles.

"I want something else," he says finally, clearly enjoying the way it makes you stiffen. "The death of my father is something I can do myself. I'll need more if I'm to change my mind."

"What else do you want?" you ask.

Prince Touya stops in front of you again, too close for comfort. He is warm, too warm. His handsome face twists in another grin.

"A blood oath," he says, leaning down to catch your gaze.

A streak of fear tears down your gut. A blood oath would bind you to him, something he could easily leverage to escape what you had planned. It would ensure you could never raise a hand against him, would be compelled to obey him were he to come calling.

And demons always, always came calling.

Good sense told you to refuse, but of course good sense had told you never to come here in the first place. The First Prince's demise was a hoped-for bonus, but the King of Hell was who you were really after. You had all but already made up your mind.

In the end, there is only one choice to be made.

"Fine," you accept, letting a slow breath out. Your hand falls to your belt for your silver knife, unstrapping it and drawing it across your palm before you can talk yourself out of it.

Touya's eyes track the well of blood, glinting, a twinge of delight passing across his beautiful features. He raises a black claw and pricks his own palm open, pressing his hand to yours, fingers closing over you.

You nearly startle out of your skin at the feeling of those long fingers on your skin, the careful rasp of his claws over your wrist. His hold on you helps steady you when you realize his blood is not pooling the same way as yours—it’s moving, sliding as if of its own volition into the cut on your palm, seeping inside you as your own continues to pour out.

You have to close your eyes to keep from feeling sick.

There's a sweep of heat through your veins as he settles deeper into your bloodstream, warming you like a shot of whiskey. It settles into something almost pleasant, then disappears, as if growing dormant within you. And then it’s over. 

And then it’s done.

Your eyes blink back open when you feel Touya’s hand shift yours in his grip, and then he raises your hand to his mouth, licking across your palm. It’s another shock of warmth, his mouth surprisingly soft, gentle against your injury. His long eyelashes flutter shut as he tastes you, and it's all you can do to hold still again, not to curl away in disgust or embarrassment—or anything else.

Touya's eyes glow brighter when he raises them to your face again, and a pleased smile curls his mouth.

"Just as sweet as you look," he purrs, and you prickle. But disturbingly, he genuinely seems to mean it, tongue passing across his bottom lip to sweep up more of the taste of you.

Something unsettled churns in your gut.

You wonder if you haven’t gotten yourself into something deeper than you’d understood.

But Touya is already moving, pressing a wry kiss to your palm in a horrible mockery of intimacy. Then he steps away, leaving you feeling strangely cold.

"A pleasure doing business with you, little hunter," he tells you, as a scant breeze begins to pick up at your feet again. A few leaves skitter across the pavement, almost deafening against the prior silence.

The first glimmer of moonlight almost blinds you as the clouds move again, the wind starting back up. The dim pools and gathers around Prince Touya as he melds back into the dark, stepping back as if into a patch of shadow.

"I'll be seeing you very soon," he promises, his voice growing soft and low. 

You don’t doubt it, and another shiver creeps down your spine. But it’s too late to go back now, and Touya knows it too.

The last thing you see before he disappears is that white smile in the dark—before you're left alone with the weight of the decision you've just made. And the cost of your revenge.

Fair Trade

College AU Bully!Touya Todoroki x F!Reader smut

Synopsis: Touya Todoroki enjoys full benefits of his status as both top student and the son of the most successful businessman in the country. He is also a major bully and no one wants to get in his way. When you decide to give him a piece of your mind for bullying your friend, Touya figures how to use that against you

Warnings: +18 MINORS DNI! Dubcon, AU, bullying, blackmailing, mention of violence, cursing, humiliation, smut, oral sex (f. receiving), penetration, creampie, mention of m. receiving oral sex

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Kohei Horikoshi

Word count: 6k

A.N.: I had fun writing this, I think it was fun to write Bully!Touya for a change instead of my original Bully☺️@dabislittlemouse here it is!

“Tamaki!” 

Your dark-haired friend cringes as he hears your voice in the crowded hall. He glances over his shoulder timidly, knowing that the following conversation might cause trouble, either to him or someone else. 

You walk up to him with a confused look on your face, “What was that about? Why did you tell the professor you hadn’t finished your essay?” You wonder.

Tamaki avoids your gaze nervously, chagrined that he hasn’t figured any reasons to use when you’d ask that very question. 

“..I-I just didn’t think.. I-I mean I..” He stutters, which makes you tilt your head, “I, uh.. forgot it at home.”

You quirk a brow at him, picking up his lie, “I saw you having your laptop with you this morning. You said earlier that you’d send it.”

Your remark causes a hue of pink color on his cheeks, “R-right.. I uh.. I didn’t.. send it,” he mumbles.

“Why?” You ask dumbfounded, getting more confused since his vague responses only evoked more questions. 

Tamaki scratches his cheek with his index finger. He clearly ponders, but to his disappointment he finds himself cornered. So accepting his defeat, he sighs heavily, “.. My laptop is broken.”

“What? How?” You ask, baffled as he bought it just about a week ago. Suddenly Nejire appears through the crowd and drapes her arm around Tamaki’s shoulder. 

“Hey guys! What’s up?” She asks, but as she sees your serious look studying Tamaki, she’s quick to pick up the atmosphere.

“What’s going on?” 

“Tamaki’s laptop is broken,” you comment while crossing your arms, doubtful of the reason why.

“Seriously? It was brand new!” She points out and looks at him, rubbing his shoulder as if already consoling him.

“Y-yeah..” He mutters and keeps his gaze down.

“How did that happen?” She asks curiously, far more gently than you.

“It was.. an accident.. I think,” he confesses with a barely audible voice.

Your brows furrow at the odd explanation, but then the realization hits you and your eyes widen.

“He did not—”

Tamaki glances elsewhere, finding it useless to sputter more insincerities when you clearly connected the dots. As his reaction implies that your presumption is unfortunately correct, curse words flood your mind faster than your mouth is capable of repeating them.

“Oh that motherfucker—” 

“Please calm down Y/N, I’ll handle it myself—” Tamaki pleads with an apologetic look on his face.

“What? You mean—” Nejire asks, but you already turn on your heels without another word, leaving behind your troubled friends. Hands balled into fists, rage bubbles in your stomach as you’re keen on searching for the reason for your fury. 

Touya Todoroki. 

Top student and a guy known by everyone. He’s smart, witty and remarkably handsome with his pierced ears, tattoos and white, messy hair. His father, Enji Todoroki owns a business empire and is one of the most successful men in the country. He also donates huge amounts of funds to the university every year.

Prestigious and wealthy family that has a ridiculous amount of power and influence, everyone knows who Todorokis are and no one, including the deans and the professors, wants to be on their bad side. Needless to say, Touya enjoys the full benefits of his status as people fawn him. 

Girls swarm around him, hoping to get his undivided attention, which according to rumors, always lasts just one night. Guys are mostly envious of him, but knowing his authority, no one wants to risk their future just to stand up to him.

That is to say Touya is a jerk and a major bully, who has already adopted the nature of a shark that feeds on those who dare to challenge him. It’s a habit that stems from his ruthless father who’s also known for eliminating any and all competition. There’s no doubt that such a trait suits someone who’s supposed to take over his father’s business some day. 

Recently Touya has become a thorn in your flesh as for some unknown reason he has targeted Tamaki. The latter assures that he can handle it, but having his laptop broken means that he wasn’t exactly successful. 

You clench your jaw in anger. Todorokis are a rich family, whose wealth isn’t affected by even a hundred broken laptops as the price of them is just as significant as a water drop in an ocean. But for Tamaki, it was an expensive investment. 

You want to make sure he doesn’t have to endure such treatment ever again. So as you enter the lounge area, you glance around and notice the group that Touya always hangs out with. The 5 of them sit comfortably on couches whereas Touya stands a little further away from them, leaning against a staircase as he currently flirts with a pair of girls. Wearing that trademark lazy grin, his sleeves are rolled up, exposing tattoos that cover his veiny arms. 

Your lips purse in anger, “Hey Todoroki!”

Touya lifts an eyebrow as if questioning who dares to bother him. But when he notices your enraged form advancing, his lips twist into a knowing smirk. Storming your way up to him, your demeanor is enough to scare the girls away. 

“What the hell is your problem?!” You shout, uncaring how it attracts the interest of others around you, including his friends.

But Touya tilts his head dismissively, “Do I know you?” 

“You can’t just break other people’s stuff like that!”

“Sweetheart, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replies condescendingly, “You must’ve confused me with someone else.”

You grit your teeth, well aware that he knows exactly what you’re referring to, “Tamaki’s laptop.”

He gazes elsewhere and hums pensively, “Ooh, that! Yeah, quite an unfortunate incident, I’m afraid. The guy’s just so clumsy he ended up tripping on his own feet,” he scoffs and his friends make no effort to hide their amused reactions. 

You inhale a deep breath, calming your burning nerves before slowly repeating the words, “Leave him alone.”

But Touya only chuckles breathlessly in response, finding it utterly amusing that someone actually tries to tell him what to do. His entitled behavior provokes you, which makes you raise your voice a little.

“I mean it! Never approach him again!” 

“Or what?” He asks. You hear the dare in his tone and had it been anyone else it would’ve worked. But you step closer into his personal space and stare into the deep turquoise of his eyes. 

“Stay away from him,” you copy his tone, showing that you’re not intimidated by him or what he’s capable of. 

Touya studies the defiance in your eyes and finds no fake bravery. It almost impresses him and he can’t help a smirk that tugs at the corner of his lips. 

Backing off, you take your eyes off of him and flash his friends a glare. Turning to walk away, you feel his eyes on your back, observing your every step. 

Searching for Tamaki, you find him from the library, where he’s surrounded by his group of friends. Mirio has his hand on his shoulder encouragingly while Nejire sits on the desk and swings her legs jovially, both of them wearing smiles to cheer him up. There’s also Kirishima, Mina and Tsuyu, freshmen who you don’t know that well.

You smile. It’s really nice to see that despite Tamaki getting his confidence crushed regularly by Touya, he also has a lot of friends around to boost it. In fact, you befriended Tamaki not only for his kind nature, but also because you thought he deserves someone to have his back.

Approaching the group who immediately after noticing you, insist on hearing about your encounter with Touya. It’s nearly funny how confronting a guy like him is considered brave, though in a way, it is since he might focus his attention on you for meddling in his business. But you don’t care. 

Instead, you encourage Tamaki with words and a smile, promising to lend him your laptop until he gets a new one. He protests with a shake of his head, assuring that you’ve already done so much for him.

But you insist as you’re gonna stay in the library after classes anyway, which means you can use the computers there. 

***

Colors of the evening sun shine through the windows, which also acts as a cue for you to stop overworking yourself and return back to the dorm. That and also the fact that the library is completely empty. 

Stretching your arms and rolling your shoulders, you get up and take some books back into their respective places. Hungry and tired, it’s quite challenging to find the right shelves and rows. That’s also why you don’t notice any other presence, even when one shuffles behind you with his hands in his pockets, observing your oblivious figure reaching for the top shelf.

“You know, I’ve been thinking—”

“Shit—!” You yelp and cringe in surprise, the book in your hand dropping on the floor at the sudden voice. Turning around, you’re greeted with Touya’s turquoise eyes and his trademark grin. 

Displeasure immediately spreads on your features, “Ugh, what do you want?” You ask, feeling too fatigued to deal with his capricious nature.

“I am willing to leave your little friend alone,” he says unexpectedly.

You blink in confusion, but then cross your arms doubtfully, knowing that someone like him would never offer such a favor out of the pureness of his heart. 

“I assume you’re gonna want something in return?” 

He grins, “Correct.”

Clicking your tongue and rolling your eyes, you’re not surprised, “And what that might be?” You ask, uninterested. Your question though changes the look in his eyes into something you can’t quite describe. But whatever it is, it’s ominous. 

“Fuck me.”

“... What?”

“Fuck me and I’ll make sure that no one, myself included, harms him.”

You blink and shake your head in disbelief, “Y-you— Are you out of your mind?”

“Consider it a fair trade, sweetheart,” he says. 

You stare up at him speechlessly, uncertain whether you’re even hearing him right. Your wordless state makes his smirk widen and he takes a step closer to you, forcing you to back against the bookshelf. At that moment your heart begins to beat faster as you realize you’re alone with him.

“You’re the only one who actually has the guts to defy me,” he remarks and places his hand on the shelf, making you notice the difference in your sizes as he looms over you, hooded eyes staring down at you hungrily. 

“It turns me the fuck on,” he adds with a husky voice.

You can’t deny the fearful rise and fall of your chest, but knowing he’s purposely trying to intimidate you, you revive your defiance quite quickly. Brows furrowed, you stare up at him confidently. 

“I’ll never let you put your filthy hands on me.”

“You will. Because we both know you could never let me hurt someone so precious to you. Not when you have a chance to prevent it.“ 

Your heart clenches at his words that unfortunately are true. Touya knows that and he shows you another one of his smirks that this time is undeniably horny.

“All you gotta do is to give me some pussy.”

You grit your teeth, but manage to contain your composure. He then slowly loosens his grip on the shelf.

“You have till tomorrow evening. After that the deal’s off the table,” he begins to walk away with your gaze locked on his back. 

“I suggest choosing wisely. I’m having some violent thoughts about that sad little friend of yours and it depends on you whether I execute them or not,” he points out and walks away.

The angry look on your face turns troubled as you take a moment to comprehend what just happened. Uneasiness settles in your guts, despite having prepared to accept the consequences of your earlier actions. This isn’t what you expected though so rubbing your upper arm anxiously, you decide to calm down and return back to the dorms. 

At first you don’t slip out from your daily routines, instead act like nothing happened. Preparing yourself dinner and talking with your roommate Tatami as if your stomach isn’t twisting with a mixture of revulsion and conflicted emotions. 

Later that night you find yourself unable to sleep and end up staring at the ceiling for hours. Arms folded behind your head, the conversation with Touya is still fresh in your mind as his words keep repeating themselves compulsively. 

“Fuck me and I’ll make sure that no one, myself included, harms him.”

You sigh. No matter how many scenarios you can think of, none of them leads to a result where Tamaki gets to stay safe and you don’t have to fuck his bully. 

Turning on your side, your eyes are heavy from trouble and tiredness. You know somewhere deep within your heart that the decision is easy. There’s no doubt that you’ll push aside your personal feelings to make someone else’s life better. Moreover, you were the one who complicated things by confronting a bully, therefore whatever follows should be yours to handle. 

***

The next day you mostly keep to yourself, only flashing a polite smile and a carefree request not to worry to those who wonder if something’s bothering you. In reality, it’s an understatement, but no one suspects how underneath your serene composure, pounds a nervous heart. 

At some point you stop procrastinating and accept that you have to seek out Touya. While you walk towards the lounge, there’s a small wish in the back of your mind that you’re not gonna find him and that this all would just go away. 

But much to your misfortune, you find the group in question from the cafe. They have taken a whole table despite there being smaller ones to match their numbers. Either slouching or sprawled on their seats, others have to be mindful of their space.

You purse your lips to the side in irritation, figuring that such individuals wouldn’t take others into consideration. You then cross your arms as your gaze attaches to the white-haired bully. When Touya notices you, you show him a sarcastic smile that lingers on your face only for a few seconds. He grins knowingly and takes his time to get up and shuffle up to you.

“What a nice surprise,” he scoffs, as if oblivious to why you’re there. 

You tap your foot on the floor unhappily, “I’ve decided to agree to your proposition,” you say unceremoniously, which makes the delinquent in front of you smirk mischievously.

“Lucky me.”

“Shut up. Just tell me when and where.”

“Tonight, 10.pm at the dorm.”

“Fine—” 

“Not so fast—” he comments as you’re about to leave.

“What?“

“Of course we need to seal the deal.”

You glare at him, “You want a hand shake or something?” 

“I was thinking a peck on the cheek would be nice,” he shrugs innocently, even though his plea is anything but. 

You look at him with disgust, “Not a chance.”

“Don't make me remind you what's at stake.”

You grit your teeth. His condescending stare provokes you severely and you can tell he is just fucking with you. 

Swallowing your pride, you step closer to him. As he’s much taller than you, you push yourself up on your toes and press a hasty kiss on his cheek, but then bring your lips close to his ear. 

“I hate you,” you growl bitterly with a voice that seethes with contempt. 

“Save something for foreplay, sweetheart,” he replies with a husky voice. 

“Fuck you,” you hiss before walking away. Touya smiles crookedly and turns to his flabbergasted friends who, unbeknownst to him, observed the conversation with curiosity.

“How the fuck did that happen?” Shigaraki asks, obviously baffled to see you kiss Touya even though yesterday you yelled at him. 

But their white-haired friend just spreads his arms, “Guess I’m just that irresistible.”

***

It’s 7pm and against your hard-working habits, you’ve spent the entire evening in bed, unable to stop yourself from imagining the obscene scenarios that’ll most likely happen between you and Touya. Tatami prepares herself for some fraternity house party that’s hosted by his boyfriend, Shindou. She babbles excitedly while putting on her makeup and trying on different dresses, but all you can hear is the dooming ticking of the clock. 

“Y/N? Y/N??”

“Huh?”

“You sure you’re okay?” She tilts her head, blonde eyebrows furrowed in worry, “You’ve been acting weird all day.”

“Ah, it’s nothing. Probably just overworked myself,” you smile sheepishly. 

She narrows her eyes playfully, “You sure you don’t wanna come to the party? A little booze and a lap of a sexy guy might release some tension,” she jokes before gathering her most important belongings into her purse. 

“Nah, I think I’ll just sleep this off. But thanks.”

“Oh, okay. Have a good night then!” She smiles. 

Your lips twist into a demi smile as she waves you off and shuts the door behind her. The nervous atmosphere hanging above now descends when you’re alone. Inhaling deeply, you get up and turn to check the time that blinks in eerie red numbers and dots.

It feels like you could vomit what little contents your stomach has and it makes you rub your face in frustration. Getting up, you drag yourself into the shower, even though cleansing yourself is practically pointless since the dirty feeling inside you can’t be washed off. 

After a steaming hot shower, you blowdry your hair and choose an outfit. Since there’s no way you wanna entertain him with pretty clothes, you choose a plain set of lingerie, regular pants, a top and a hoodie. 

Checking yourself from a mirror that’s attached to the door, you stare at yourself disappointedly. Having never imagined finding yourself in such a situation, it’s difficult to comprehend that you’re actually gonna go through with this. Sighing heavily, you shove the intrusive thoughts away and leave to search for the right hall of residence. 

Insecurity in your knees, you walk across the well-lit yard with your arms wrapped around yourself. As the right building comes into sight, it stands almost threateningly in front of you as you pass the entrance. 

Mind blurry, you’re unable to distract yourself from the pounding of your heart as you wander in the corridors. Gladly there’s not many people to witness your apprehensive manner since most students seem to be attending parties or having gone home to visit their parents. 

As you come across the right door, you’re about to reach your hand to knock, but hesitate and end up staring at it. It’s your pride that tells you that it’s not too late to walk away, but your protective heart won’t allow you to become indecisive. 

Suddenly the door opens and you tense up, meeting the turquoise eyes of none other than Touya. He grins at your nervous appearance and leans against the doorframe, “How long have you been standing there?”

Heat rises on your cheeks, “Just arrived,” you reply hastily, though both of you know that’s a blatant lie. 

Choosing not to point that out, he pushes the door open for you, “Come on in,” he gestures.

You hold onto the prideful attitude and enter carefreely as though your heart isn’t currently bruising your chest. 

The room is surprisingly neat. Instead of discarded clothes or cans of beer and energy drinks, the beds are made and every item seems to be placed exactly where it belongs. There’s an expensive looking PC desk, which you assume belongs to his gamer roommate and friend, Shigaraki. 

As you hear the door closing, you turn around to face Touya, who walks just a little too close for your comfort. It’s almost funny, considering what you’re about to do with him. 

He tilts his head a little, a lazy smile spread on his features that most people considered attractive, “So.. You look pretty.”

You don’t know whether it’s sarcasm or if he’s being truthful, but either way it ticks you off. He knows that any compliment is degrading when it comes from him. 

“Why don’t we just get this over with?” You suggest sternly.

“Sure,” he shrugs, but shuffles by the PC desk and plops on the chair. You look at him questioningly as he lifts his foot to rest on the corner of his bed and intertwines his fingers.

“Strip,” he commands. 

As if the situation itself isn’t humiliating enough, he wants to make a show out of your undressing, which you’re beyond reluctant to perform. Glaring at him, there’s a moment where your gazes are connected in an intense contest. Unfortunately, out of the two of you, not only is your position disadvantaged, but his deep turquoise eyes are imperative regardless of the carefree grin that’s always plastered on his face. 

With no other choice, you huff in irritation and decide to execute his wish, though as unceremoniously as possible. Proceeding to unzip your hoodie, your motions are almost angry as you discard it. Then grabbing the hem of your top, you pull it over your head and drop it on the floor before unzipping your pants. Lowering them all the way down to your ankles, you get out of them and use your foot to push them aside.

Having only your underwear and bra, doubt gnaws at your judgment and your eyes meet Touya’s in the momentary hesitation. He predicts your feelings and indecision, but pays them no mind.

“Go on,” he compels rather calmly, but the undertone of his voice is unconditional. 

Inhaling a deep breath to control yourself, you keep your eyes on him when unhooking your bra, never losing contact when the garment slides off of your shoulders on the floor. 

As your breasts are now on full display for him, a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips and he can’t help but whistle lowly at your body.

“Come here.”

You obey rather quickly, mostly because it also seems like a permission to still keep your panties on. Standing between his legs, he readjusts his position.

“Straddle me.”

Showing no reaction, you do as you’re told. Grabbing the headrest of the chair, you carefully place yourself in his lap. Tensing up as his hands touch the bare skin of your sides and slide down on the small of your back. 

“Damn, baby. All of this yet you never show what you got.” 

“Cause I don’t want any assholes like you drooling over my body,” you retorted quickly. 

“Well, that doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?” He asks with a wide smirk and you roll your eyes, admitting that he has a point. 

He then focuses his attention on your naked breasts, squeezing both of them before sweeping his tongue over the peaked nipple of the other. It sends a tremble through your body as the air feels cold on the now moist skin. Sucking on the sensitive nub, he fondles the other, softly squeezing and using his thumb to brush the nipple. 

His touch feels foreign, yet assertive and experienced. Hands surprisingly gentle as he fondles your breasts and caresses your breasts. Littering open-mouthed kisses over your chest, you inhale shakily as his growing bulge presses in between your legs. Your reaction doesn’t miss his perceptive nature as he nibbles and bites the sensitive skin of your neck, hot breath fanning against it and lips twisted into a smug smirk. 

Moving his hands on your ass, he grabs a handful and forces you to grind yourself against him. Your face scrunches, brows furrowing as your clothed clit bumps against his hardened member that throbs beneath the fabric of his pants. A guttural groan reverberates in his throat as he humps you steadily, hands firmly holding your ass. 

Suddenly he gets up with you in his arms and carries you to bed, placing you down on the mattress as he sets himself between your legs. Bringing his hands on your hips where the waistband of your panties are, his hooded eyes are locked on the thin fabric, the only obstacle between him and what he desires. Teasing himself, he slowly digs his fingers under the waistband and pulls the panties down your legs. It’s clear to you now why he allowed you to keep them at first— He wanted to make another show out of you exposing the most intimate part of yourself to him. 

He tosses your panties carelessly on the floor and shifts his wicked gaze at you, “Spread ‘em.”

His audacity is indescribable as well as the spite you feel towards him, however, holding your emotions strictly behind your teeth, you part your legs for him. 

The sight of your pussy causes a lecherous grin to spread on his features, “Fuck, that’s a pretty cunt,” he mumbles, swiftly pulling his t-shirt over his head before leaning down to kiss your mound.

“What you think you’re doing..?” You ask, almost nervously. 

“I may be a prick, but I’d never leave my girl without an orgasm.”

“I am not your girl,” you hiss. 

As if provoked, Touya stops what he’s doing and hovers over you, placing his hands on both sides of your head, “You are now. And after this you always will be.”

The truth in his words tastes bitter and no matter how resentful it makes you, there’s nothing you can come up with that would count as a smart retort. He grins at your speechlessness and plants a chaste kiss on your neck, whereas you avert your gaze away momentarily as the gesture seems like a rotten cherry on top of his superiority. 

He then continues to kiss your body, down your lower belly and as he reaches your mound, he plants another few kisses on it. You shut your eyes and bite back a moan as he licks a long stripe between your folds, tongue sweeping subtly against your clit. Leaning your head back, pleasure consumes your body as his soft, wet tongue swirls around your sensitive clit. You keep your mouth strictly shut, but can’t stop your toes from curling though you’re reluctant to admit that he clearly knows what he’s doing. Your body slowly melts into his skillful touch as he flicks your clit with his tongue, pleasure blurring your better judgment as you spread your legs wider and allow him proper access.

He adds more pressure, which makes your back arch and hands grip the sheets as such pleasure has never surged through your body before. He is a natural tease, slowing down his movements whenever he notices you’re nearing your bliss. Your body twists in protest as a small whimper of frustration manages to pass your lips, but it doesn’t convince him to continue like you wish. 

He keeps teasing you until your pussy is sensitive enough to thrust a finger inside in order to suddenly increase your pleasure. Your mouth falls agape and at this point you don’t even try to suppress your moans or sudden jolts of your body. He adds a second finger and curls them, aiming for that sweet spot inside you. 

Your face distorts in pure pleasure, body writhing in such desperation for release that you grasp his white hair and shamelessly grind yourself against his tongue. Your greediness makes Touya smirk against your folds while he keeps fucking you with his fingers. 

Another loud moan and a trash of your legs, you reach your orgasm that washes over you in powerful waves, your walls pulsing steadily around his fingers as you cum. Bliss numbs your limbs and you collapse on the bed, gasping for air as haze surrounds your mind. For that idle moment you can’t remember the questionable circumstances, nor the contempt you feel towards Touya. All you know is the aftermath of the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. 

Touya pulls his fingers out of you gently and sits on his knees, wiping your slick from his chin with the back of his hand. Savoring the taste of you on his lips, he’s high on the power he gained from making you cum. Also admiring the state you’re in, you look absolutely irresistible with your juices leaking down the curve of your ass while you pant with your eyes closed. 

Smirk widening, his cock throbs at the sight as he starts to unbuckle his belt and lower his pants and boxers. Hovering over you, his shadow engulfs your figure and forces you to slowly open your eyes to meet the depraved look on his. 

“Ain’t you cute all fucked out,” his mockery makes the last remnants of your bliss fade away and replace with annoyance that makes you roll your eyes. 

“Must you talk?” You ask. 

“Not at all, babe. I’d rather listen to you moan for me anyway,” he replies wittily. Heat burns your cheeks as you’re both well aware that you did your best to not grant him that joy. But not only did you fail, he also forces you to swallow your pride as you can’t outsmart his comment. 

Tilting his head victoriously, he then focuses on wrapping a hand around his aching cock, pressing the head of it against your sloppy entrance. Your walls allow him to sink inside, albeit with a little resistance.

“There we go..” He grunts at the tightness of your pussy. Your brows furrow and you lean your head back, shutting your eyes as he buries himself deeper inside you, feeling the vague reluctance of your body. 

His lips twisting into a smug smirk, he leans close to your ear, “Don’t fight me.”

Your response is nothing but a small whimper as he rocks his hips, gently fucking you. Your fingers curl in the sheets as you keep panting, but the subtle tone of distress soon changes into quiet moans of pleasure. Picking up the pace, he thrusts into you steadily and observes how your features relax into bliss. Grabbing one of your wrists, he pins it above your head.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, hot breath mingling with yours.

“S-shut u-up,” you cry out, hopelessly clutching onto what little is left of your pride. But as he swirls his hips for more friction, you arch your back in pleasure, hands seeking his tattooed forearms to dig your nails into as your moans become high-pitched.

Touya chuckles as your response is exactly what he was looking for. Confident that he can easily shatter your resolution that’s already like a thin glass, he grabs your chin firmly and crashes his lips on yours. Fucking you harder, he devours your cute squeals and forces his tongue into your mouth to rub yours in a heated kiss. Saliva dribbles down the side of your mouth, pleasure losing your logical mind into oblivion. 

Against any reason and all of your principles, you wrap your arms around him and scratch his back as he knows exactly how to make you squirm in bliss. His cock abuses your pussy so perfectly that you can’t seem to remember that there’s no one you despise as much as Touya Todoroki.

He smirks into the kiss for managing to tame your fury and reduce you to a moaning mess. Adjusting his position, he pulls away from you and leans his weight on his forearms. Slamming his hips against yours, he watches the pleasure written on your features as your breasts bounce back and forth. Your hooded eyes hazy as your sweet inner lips wrap around his slick-coated cock so well, so obediently. 

A malicious smirk spreads on his face, canines visible as he pants in pleasure. For a moment he almost resembles the devil himself, pleased from having manufactured a treacherous deal to snatch your poor soul for his pleasure. 

Suddenly he grabs your waist and manhandles you so that your legs rest on his shoulders. Leaning over you, he places his hands flat on the mattress, on both sides of your head. Slamming his hips against yours so violently that you can’t anticipate the scream that emerges. He begins to fuck you so mercilessly that tears form on the corners of your eyes as his cock hits that sweet spot inside you perfectly, forcing a loud moan after another. Needless to say, your toes curl as your orgasm nears you, making your body tremble in utter bliss. 

Touya pants in pleasure as he feels your walls spasming, a debauched smile twisting his lips as a tiny drop of sweat trails down the side of his temple, “That’s it baby— Nngh— Cum on my cock,” he groans.

Your orgasm hits you stronger than ever as you come undone on his cock, walls clenching around him tightly, pulsating as waves of pleasure make your back arch. Shivers running across the surface of your skin, your body shudders like something primal inside you is freed. 

“Good fucking girl,” Touya grunts while fucking you through your high. Getting more rough, merciless, he rams his cock inside your overstimulated pussy to elicit tormented screams and sinful pleasure. Thrusts beginning to be sloppy and erratic, ruthless as he nears his own end evidently.

In too deep, you can’t manage to comprehend the consequences and allow him to slam his cock deep in you, releasing his seeds in white ropes of hot cum that taints your spent walls.

“Fuck yeah,” He groans, tongue lolling out in pleasure. Taking his time to empty himself inside you, your eyes are closed as you gulp for air while a thin sheen of sweat glimmers on your skin. 

Whimpering as he finally pulls out, he collapses on his back next to you. Folding his other arm behind his head, silence lingers in the aftermath as you both lie in his bed, catching your breaths. 

When the haze of euphoria disappears into the air, you adopt back the rather stern demeanor, “You done?“ You ask almost rudely while still getting up as if his reply doesn’t matter.

“Pretty much,“ Touya grins lazily as he turns to observe you picking up your clothes. Moving on his side, he leans his head on the palm of his hand and watches you hastily dress yourself.

“You’re a good fuck,“ he points out crudely. 

“Shut up.“

“Seriously. So when are we gonna do this again?“

You chuckle sarcastically, “And why the hell would I do that?“ You ask, glancing at him while putting on your hoodie.

Touya sits on the bed with his back against the wall, a blanket covering his lower half, “Oh, I don’t know. Probably if you want this Tamaki guy to remain unharmed,” he says, leaning his elbow on his knee and resting his cheek in the palm of his hand. 

You whip your head around, “What?“ 

“Babe, you should always check terms and conditions properly before agreeing,” he says with a tone that’s almost reprimanding. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!” 

“That I never said this is a one time thing,” he points out annoyingly calmly. You stare at him in disbelief, but at the same time not surprised that he’d pull off something like this. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,“ you say mostly to yourself. 

He shows a mischievous grin, “You know, if you suck my dick, I’ll buy him a new laptop.“ 

Your body tenses in absolute fury, hands balling into fists as his suggestion is so shamelessly casual. His lazy grin ridicules you enough to want to let all the rage burst out in all its violence, however, you narrowly manage to channel it into words. 

“I fucking hate you!“ You scream so loud that it almost hurts before storming out and slamming the door behind.

Touya chuckles by himself, unbothered by your furious nature. In fact, he’s more than content with the outcome of his actions as the real reason he bullied Tamaki was only to catch your attention. 

tainted angel 🪽 MASTERLIST

ෆ pairing: Dabi x Hawks’ little sister

ෆ Synopsis: While stalking Hawks and trying to find out more information about him, Dabi comes across his little sister, a sweet angelic thing that welcomes him inside her house with a bright smile on her face. Dabi can’t help but get obsessed over her, the sudden urge to make her his takes over him entirely, maybe to have Hawks under his control while he enjoys his little sister, or maybe he really does like her. Nevertheless, she does not know the danger she just involved herself in, nor does she know that her brother’s handsome “friend” is in fact a dangerous villain who has sick twisted intentions.

ෆ cw‼️: smut, yandere themes, corruption kink, dubcon/noncon, mixed feelings, Dabi being a flirt and a pervert, stalking,

ෆ A/N please read before going further: This multichapter fic is written in Dabi’s POV mostly, it’s written in first person. You will come across Dabi’s thoughts and feelings, how he perceives things. He calls Keigo’s sister “angel” instead of the famous Y/N label, so I’ll be calling her angel too. Sometimes I include angel’s POV too (which you can totally insert yourself and imagine being her. As I write this fic I also imagine myself being the sister as well). Due to her being Keigo’s sister she might have specific descriptions such as hair color, eye color, skin, wings etc.

CHAPTER 1

During a boring rainy day of wandering around, Dabi gets a call from the men he hired to get more information on Hawks. They had found his old house, where supposedly his mother lived. Dabi decides to pay her a little visit, not knowing the surprise that was waiting for him: the little angel Hawks used to keep hidden from the public.

CHAPTER 2

Hawks threatens Dabi to not get close to his family, specifically his sister. But Dabi definitely has other plans the moment he got her number, deciding to call her late at night.

CHAPTER 3

Angel continues to secretly interact with Dabi despite Hawks warning her not to. She is entirely captivated by his charm and mysteriousness. Dabi decides to pay her a little visit and leave a small gift.

CHAPTER 4

She finally agrees to meet Dabi behind an alleyway, late at night. They both head to an empty park, where Dabi decides to make a move and savour her. From that moment things get heated up.

CHAPTER 5

Hawks is worried that his sister was out so late at night. He starts doubting her words, wondering if she is even telling the truth. He is not pleased with what he sees once she comes back.

CHAPTER 6

As Dabi refuses to elaborate on who he is and what bad things he has done, angel starts getting more paranoid. Especially knowing that he might’ve possibly entered her house at night or stalked her. As much as she enjoyed his company, she doesn’t feel safe, so she decides to listen to her brother’s warnings and stop talking to Dabi. Though Dabi is anything but pleased with her decision.

CHAPTER 7

She has been keeping watch for a few nights by now, anxiously waiting just in case Dabi decided to appear again, living in constant fear. Strange dreams appear in her sleep, of him being so close to her, touching her body in ways she begs for more. But is this really just a dream?

CHAPTER 8

“You like the danger don’t cha?” Dabi smirks. “You like some thrill in your boring peaceful life, something troublesome that has your blood boiling and adrenaline rushing.. isn’t that right doll? You like to play with fire, mess with the unknown, scared that you’ll burn and yet needing more. Confusing isn’t it?”

CHAPTER 9

Time for a real date. Giving Dabi another chance, she again lets herself swim in dangerous waters, though this time she won’t come back unscathed

CHAPTER 10

Giving in to the temptation and burning desire that could no longer be contained, she finally lets her body and soul into Dabi’s hands.

.

.

Divider credits @cafekitsune

🏷️current tags on this fic: @mostlyheinous @dabihawksluva @scariusaquarius @syrenkitsune @touyalove @awalkingshame @dabislittlebeaniebaby @madsttx @cr-33-d , if you want to be added in the taglist and get notified when a new chapter drops, let me know!

summary: in a season where you're determined to fly under the radar, newly-returned crown prince!touya todoroki has other ideas.

cw/tags: touya todoroki x fem!reader, royalty!au and regency!au, fake dating, strangers to lovers, canon-typical violence and swearing

update status: in progress!

HAND ONE - HIGH CARD, or the duels

HAND TWO - PAIR, or the deal

HAND THREE - TWO PAIR, or the date

HAND FOUR - THREE OF A KIND, or the debutantes

HAND FIVE - STRAIGHT, or the deal, revised

HAND SIX - FLUSH, or the dinner

HAND SEVEN - FULL HOUSE, or the deceiver

HAND EIGHT - FOUR OF A KIND, or the flop

HAND NINE - STRAIGHT FLUSH, or the turn

HAND TEN - ROYAL FLUSH, or the river

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

DEAD RECKONING : TODOROKI TOUYA x READER

SUMMARY: A makeup artist at a haunted maze, all you want to do is make it to the end of the season with a little extra cash in your pocket and no murder convictions on your record. Scare actor Todoroki Touya makes that last part a challenge. (7.8k) CONTENT & WARNINGS: no quirks au, halloween, enemies to lovers, fem + afab reader, slight scumbag touya, haunted maze workers, smut, semi-public sex, smoking, heavy swearing, touya likes having his hair pulled + girls who are a little mean to him, sort of good girl vs bad boy vibes, 18+ minors please dni NOTES: Happy Halloween from me!! This fic is part of the Willow's Haunted House collab. Dedicated to cat-slippered and ofmermaidstories, for workshopping what eventually became this fic with me about a thousand years ago. I’m sorry I turned Bakugou into Dabi. And I’m sorry for dedicating the now Dabi fic to you. But not sorry enough to not have done it. Love you. :)

If there was one thing you hated about Halloween, it was Todoroki Touya.

Shockingly, this was not a commonly-held sentiment, which was the only reason there even was a recurrence of Todoroki Touya darkening your Halloween seasons in the first place.

For the last three years, you’d spent your fall semester working as a makeup artist at the Musutafu haunted maze alongside a slew of other college and local kids looking to make a little extra cash. The hours were fairly flexible, and the wage covered your textbooks, with a little left over to keep you in the occasional coffee between lectures.

But your wages did not nearly cover the amount of psychic damage you had been dealt, managing Todoroki Touya’s obnoxious, sarcastic, chain-smoking ass day after day for seasons on end.

On lucky days, someone else was on Touya duty. But on unlucky ones, you found him sprawling in the plastic makeup chair opposite you, those intense blue eyes tracking you with no small amount of pleasure, like he was this afternoon.

You stopped in the doorway, a curse slipping out of you. You’d been hoping that you’d get lucky today, as the day was otherwise an excellent one. You’d invited a group of friends to do the maze with you after you got off shift, and you had been looking forward to it all week.

But it figured Touya could never let you have too good of a time.

“Missed you too, sweetheart,” he drawled over the noise of displeasure that escaped you. He was at least already dressed in costume, so he wouldn’t go smearing his makeup as he pulled it on, a tumble of stitches and frayed edges that had once been a dark-blue duster, but now just mostly gaped open to show the hard planes of his chest.

“I’m so sure,” you told him, averting your eyes from his pecs. You sighed, resigning yourself to his presence, and made your way in, dumping your bag on the staff room couch.

“This is a very hostile work environment you’re creating,” Touya rasped, his grin sharp. Years of chain-smoking outside the maze had left his voice even lower and raspier than when you’d first met him three years ago.

“Don’t worry, it can always get more hostile,” you told him, affecting your own sweet grin as you moved over to the vanity, digging through all the makeup and prosthetics for the ones he’d need.

Touya himself was severely scarred, which was likely why he’d applied to work at the haunted maze in the first place. You’d never asked him about his scars, but you’d heard enough gossip from the other maze workers to know that they were the product of a childhood accident, involving the burning down of his father’s—the then-and-current mayor’s—house.

He’d accentuated them with a shit load of facial piercings, and was sort of off-putting to look at the first time you caught a glimpse of him. The issue was that, once your eyes made sense of what they were seeing, he was infuriatingly handsome.

You’d heard he’d initially been unleashed on the maze with no makeup or prosthetics, and within the first evening was causing line backups, with all the parties of teen girls who were taking a little too much time lingering around his section of the maze.

So now he was subjected to prosthetics to make him uglier, a fact that he seemed to absolutely relish.

You dug out the monster prosthetic pack that gave him jutting forehead ridges. “Let’s make the outside reflect the inside, shall we,” you told him as you flapped the rubbery pieces at him, smirking your own little smirk.

Touya’s answering grin was wicked, and he relaxed back in his seat, sprawling his legs out wide in that infuriating way men had. “Think my outside is too pretty then, huh?” he asked, sapphire eyes flickering over you.

Your face went hot in a weird combination of anger and embarrassment. “I try not to think of your outside,” you told him pertly, making sure to slap the forehead piece onto him hard enough to make a splat noise.

His mouth twitched again but he let you go to work, gluing the pieces down against his face, careful not to press them to the seams of any of his scars. He was tall enough even lounging in his seat that you only had to lean over a little to focus clearly on his face, all long legs and rangy muscle.

This close, he always smelled like cigarette smoke, with an undercurrent of something rich and dark, like cinnamon or chocolate. You could never put your finger on it, but you were not about to go sniffing him at any length to figure it out, even if it was annoyingly appealing.

He’d probably love that, and would absolutely never let you live it down.

Touya’s eyes tracked you closely as you worked, but otherwise his expression was still, and you thought not for the first time that it really was too bad he was so obnoxious. He was actually quite handsome, with a soft, sensuous mouth, a blade-straight nose, and vivid blue eyes that all but glowed like the embers of a crackling fire when he was provoking you.

It was a shame he wasted all his beauty being the most annoying man on earth.

You’d heard from the other maze workers that he was relatively well-known around the area, having spent his teen years doing petty criminal shit to destabilize his father’s reelection campaigns, netting himself several jail stays and a record a mile long. He’d settled somewhat since he’d gotten a job at a piercing parlor downtown and several side gigs like the maze, but people weren’t fully convinced he’d abandoned his old ways, and he still clearly relished any opportunity to discomfort and destabilize anyone who got on his bad side.

Apparently including you.

“Don’t hurt yourself thinking too hard, sweetheart,” Touya said, those cerulean eyes blinking up at you.

You realized you’d paused over him, midway through blending his prosthetic forehead in, and another annoying little smirk rode his mouth.

You took care to roll your eyes at him, gesturing at him with your brush. “I know several places I can stick this if you’re not careful.”

Touya’s smirk melted into an unholy grin. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he rasped, eyes glittering up at you.

You went back to work on him with a little more force than necessary, blending hard enough that you saw his broad shoulders shift in an effort to keep his neck braced. “I doubt any time with you could be classed as good,” you said pertly, giving a final few brushes before stepping back, satisfied with your work.

The forehead made him look unhinged as he offered another smirk, leaning forward. “True—the feedback I usually get is ‘incredible’, ‘mind-blowing’, ‘earth-shattering’, ‘toe-curling’, ‘scream-inducing’—”

“Oh I’ll scream if you keep talking,” you said hotly, even as your cheeks warmed. Even with the stupid fucking forehead he was annoyingly handsome. You needed him a thousand million miles away from you before you herniated something, jumping back and forth between annoyance and attraction.

Maybe it was time to stop signing up to work here.

“Now get out of my room, I have other people waiting,” you commanded, thankful when you heard the scuff of a boot at the door confirming another maze worker waiting.

Touya didn’t look at all chastened, but he unfolded himself from the chair in an unfurling of broad shoulders and long legs. He leaned in close as he passed, voice dipping low. “See you later, sweetheart,” he said, a smile curling his mouth.

Annoyingly, his proximity crossed a bunch of the wires in your brain, and you fumbled before managing, “Not if we’re both lucky.”

“Stop, I’ll blush,” he drawled, another unholy grin splitting his cheeks before he saluted two fingers at you and ducked out of the room. The scent of smoke and cinnamon followed him, and you let out a sigh of relief, the air and your brain clearer now that he was gone.

No sooner were you free of him, however, than another problem was immediately introduced.

“So…he actually talks to you?” The other maze worker’s head poked through the door, her eyes resting on you intently. You recognized her as a local highschooler who’d just joined this season, who usually ended up getting in early enough to get her makeup done by the other artist.

You blinked. “I…unfortunately?” you answered, confused.

She stepped into the room, and you reflexively gestured her over to the chair that Touya had just abandoned.

She hummed as she took her seat, eyeing you curiously. “Wow. How’d you get him to do that? He doesn’t really talk to any of us,” she informed you.

You could feel your eyebrows lift towards your hairline. “He…doesn’t…?”

She shook her head, her pretty golden ringlets swaying with the motion. “He’ll chainsmoke with Tomura and he sometimes talks to Himiko. But the other girls—they say he just laughs and walks away if they try to chat with him.”

Well. That sounded rude enough to be true to form, you thought. But when Touya was in your makeup chair you couldn’t get him to shut the hell up. You shifted, uncomfortable with the idea that Touya had any special soft spot for you. Maybe, like a cat, he could sense who didn’t much like him and decided to latch on out of spite.

“You might be a little young for him,” you decided, going over to the vanity and digging out the prosthetics she’d need—a witch chin and a raised gorey slash that would open along one cheekbone.

“No—it’s all the other girls too. And most of the guys,” she told you. “He must like you.”

A laugh escaped you, and you turned back to her with the prosthetics in hand, a few new brushes and a white, cakey paint palette shoved beneath your elbow.

“I don’t think he likes anyone,” you told her, setting everything down and applying the tacky glue to the underside of her chin prosthetic. “I think he just likes to inflict himself on people he knows it will annoy. You could act disinterested in talking to him and he’d probably come flitting right over.” The image of Touya suffering at the hands of a league of flirty high school girls pleased you—better they suck up his time and energy than you.

“I don’t know,” the girl said uncertainly. “Maybe he likes you.” But she was forced to leave it at that once you started applying her chin, making it difficult for her to speak.

You certainly didn’t think that was the case.

But the seeds of doubt had already been sown, a question that you thought would probably haunt your evening now that it had been formed. Just why did Touya talk to you if he was so standoffish with other people? And what did it mean that he made such a point of it?

You knew for sure it wasn’t because he liked you, his obnoxious manner said that well enough. But why did you get treatment that was significant enough that even the other maze workers would comment on it?

And, perhaps even more concerningly, why did the thought agitate you so much?

You decided to try your best not to think about it, and have a good time with your friends once they got there, putting Touya out of your mind. You returned to doing the girl’s makeup with vigor, suddenly as eager to get her out of your chair as you had been Touya.

She was finished in record time and she thanked you, carefully not to smile too widely lest she dislodge the prosthetics. You took in the next person waiting as she left, slowly working your way through the line of people as the hour drew ever closer to the maze’s evening opening time.

Eventually you finished up and collected your things, making your way out front to find your friends already waiting for you. They’d clearly dressed with the intent to go out after—something you hadn’t considered—their dresses short and slinky and their makeup smoky. You’d have liked to have joined, but you were still in the sweater and leggings you’d come straight from lectures in.

Maybe you would have time to go home and change after the maze.

You were scooped up into several hugs, breathing in the sweet scents of various perfumes, and informed that you absolutely did have to go home and get changed after so you could come out and get “Hallowasted!” too.

“Okay if I’m not busy peeing my pants, which monsters are the ones you did?” your roommate asked, dancing around to warm herself in the cool fall air. “I wanna see ‘em.”

You named several of your creations, conveniently leaving off Touya. You knew that if your friends took too close a look at him and figured out what he looked like under the cakey makeup and forehead prosthetic, they’d never leave the maze. You knew he sat somewhere around the end of the set up, in an alcove that had been decorated to look like an abandoned village with burned out cabins, a mess of bones dotting the ground at the side of the walkway.

You were also hoping you could pass unnoticed in the group of your friends, as there was no doubt in your mind that Touya would take special care to annoy you in particular. So you did not want your group to linger long enough for your friends to scope him out.

You would know it was him under the makeup you’d done yourself, but being cornered somewhere in the dark with the soundtrack of screams echoing in your ears would not exactly have you feeling your boldest.

Your group had dinner at the food trucks parked out front, chatting and laughing and waiting for the crowds to die down, each indulging in one drink for bravery before joining the line. Eventually you ended up at the front of the queue, late in the evening, your friends crowding in behind you, whispering nervously.

“You first,” your roommate hissed when you looked back at them questioningly. “You work here, you have to do the honors.”

You sighed, accepting your fate, making a mental note to subtly shift to the back of the pack as you made it further into the maze.

Then you were being greeted by Shigaraki Tomura, whose makeup you’d done last. He’d been given layers of prosthetic peeling skin and a scar at his mouth, and he was decorated with a layer of disembodied hands gripping him all over. He shredded your tickets, looking unenthused.

“Remember that inside the maze, none of the monsters can touch you,” he recited dully. “You are not permitted to touch them in return; do not hit, kick, push, bite, slap, lick, scratch, or otherwise assault the actors. Don’t tamper with the props, do not leave items behind. Be respectful of other guests and do not linger too long in the rooms. If you need to leave for any reason, every room or alcove has clearly-lit exits marked in red.”

His eyes briefly met yours as he waved you through, and you thought you saw a pale brow go up.

But then you were being shoved forward by your friends, several hands clinging to your arms and the back of your shirt, and you stepped forward into the dark of the hall.

The maze truly was a labyrinth—it started indoors in a pitch black room, with fake body bags hanging from the ceiling. Toga Himiko, a highschooler whose makeup you usually did, stalked you around the edges of the room, dressed in a torn school uniform with fangs peeking out of her widely grinning mouth, and a dripping knife clutched eagerly in her fingers.

Once you made it past her, the maze spilled outdoors, into a tangle of hedges and artificially-constructed set, steering you in twisting loops around the property.

You were pleased with how terrifying all the actors looked, even having done most of their prosthetics yourself, and found your heart racing as you took every new corner, found yourself freezing up and stumbling back whenever someone jumped out at you, suppressing a shriek.

Your friends participated with gusto, shrieking and ducking away from the monsters, holding you like a human shield between them and the maze workers. You would have been insulted if it hadn’t been so funny.

You made it through most of the maze with little trouble, passing through a haunted swamp, a graveyard with mummies twisting and screaming in their bindings, grasping for you. You stumbled past a man wielding a chainsaw and a set of clowns waving axes, making it through in record time thanks to the push of your frantic friends behind you.

It was only on the last leg of the maze that you finally ran into Touya.

You peered around the corner, recognizing the set up instantly. The burned out houses flickered with blue flame, lighting up the set in an eerie, unsettling sapphire light. The fake bones on the ground sat in piles of ash, glowing stark white in the light. You couldn’t spot Touya anywhere, and you slowly crept forward, trying to shepherd your friends in front of you.

You even almost thought you had been successful, until a rasping voice drawled behind you, “Hello sweetheart.”

And then your roommate screamed, bolting forward, knocking into you and sending you stumbling over a pile of the fake bones. You landed hard on your ass in the patchy grass, the wind punching out of you.

“Oh fuck—” you heard one of your friends say as she too was steamrolled, and you watched the group of them trip over one another in their desperation to get through the alcove, dissolving into chaos in a matter of seconds.

You quickly tried to get to your feet to follow, but a hiss forced its way through your teeth when you tried your ankle, a wave of sharp pain washing over you.

Oh fuck. Not good.

The tread of a boot in the grass next to you made you jump, and your head whipped up to catch sight of Touya crouching over you.

“You good down there?” he asked. His eyes glinted in the dark of the maze, and the blue light cast shadows over his features, twisting them in the dim. Your heartbeat picked up, even as your brain recognized him for who he was.

You cringed, embarrassed that you’d had to hurt yourself in his part of the maze specifically. It figured.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, trying to climb to your feet again. Your ankle twinged in protest, and Touya must have caught the flash of pain on your face because then his hand was under your elbow, supporting you as you rose in an unexpected show of courtesy.

Although he broke the illusion immediately when he opened his mouth again.

“Yeah you look real fine,” he said, quirking an eyebrow. With the prosthetic forehead it made him look sort of demented.

“Well I’ll be fine,” you insisted, even as those blue eyes flickered over you assessingly. His fingers tightened a little on your arm before he bent down, tapping his other hand on your leg.

“Which leg, sweetheart?” he asked. “And where?”

It took you a minute to catch up to what he was asking, confused at seeing him on his haunches before you. A scream went up in the background, some terrified maze goer, and a little shiver went down your spine.

“Uh, the left ankle,” you supplied, startling when Touya’s fingers slid underneath the cuff of your legging over the aforementioned ankle, rolling it up gently. You blinked, surprised at the careful touch.

“Can’t see too well in the dark,” he announced. “But it looks like you ripped it open on something.” He peered back up at you. “Think it’s sprained?”

You shook your head. “Probably just rolled. It hurts but not like go-to-the-hospital level,” you said. “Just give me a minute, I’ll be good.”

Touya considered you for a moment, then got to his feet, moving closer. That scent of smoke and cinnamon drifted over to you, and he bent his head to look into your face.

“Much as you’re the most terrifying thing in this maze, I don’t think people are gonna wanna see you here,” he told you, a smirk cutting into his mouth. “Would ruin the experience. So we’re gonna have to get you out of here.”

You scowled up at him, crossing your arms over your chest. Well no thanks for the concern, then. “I’m going, I’m going, keep your shirt on,” you told him, preemptively gritting your teeth before readying yourself to take another step.

But before you could, one of Touya’s hands was suddenly sliding under your knees, his other slipping behind your shoulder. In the next second the burning buildings were swinging wildly in front of your eyes, and then you were being hefted up into Touya’s arms. You let out a startled yelp, your own hands shooting out to grab his jacket, giving him a wild-eyed look.

“Touya—!” you garbled out, as a smile pulled at his expression.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he told you, looking a little too smug about the situation he’d just put you in. He strode towards the exit, kicking the door open with a heavy boot, carrying you down the hall and back into the building. He was hard with wiry muscle underneath you, and so deliciously warm against you. Your ears went hot with every sure, easy step he took, like carrying you was little effort for him.

Thankfully it was barely a minute before you reached the staff room, where Touya laid you out gently on the couch, much more carefully than you might have expected from him.

Your cheeks and your nose burned, flaming even hotter when he squatted down in front of you and took your ankle in his hand again.

His dark eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he took note of your injury. In the light you could definitely see that you’d caught your ankle bone on one of the fake bones you’d tripped over, as there was a long gash up the side of it, but nothing else looked bruised or otherwise concerning. You thought you’d probably be fine in a couple hours, just a roll.

It was definitely nothing Touya had needed to princess carry you through the staff halls for!

“Don’t move,” Touya told you, and you watched, bewildered, as he stepped away, stalking over to the other side of the room where the staff lockers were. He dug out a shabby backpack, pulling something out of it, and then returned to your side, spreading out his haul on the couch next to you.

You noted a little tube of rubbing alcohol, an antiseptic cream and a bandage, as well as an ice pack. One of your eyebrows went up.

“You rob a hospital or something?” you asked reflexively, heart fluttering a little bit weirdly when Touya’s eyes flickered back up to yours. His eyelashes were long and thick, startlingly pretty.

“Nah,” he said, his gaze cutting suddenly away from yours. “Usually keep shit on hand for my burns.”

Your stomach flipped, and you realized how rude your question had been. Embarrassment welled up in a hard lump in your throat. Well shit. “Oh—fuck. Of course. I’m sorry, Touya.”

A pinch to your leg had you yelping, and his handsome face was serious when he stared back up at you, his eyes practically glowing with intensity. “I don’t need your sympathy.”

You rolled your eyes, rubbing the skin he’d pinched absentmindedly. “It wasn’t sympathy, asshole,” you said. “It was an apology for being thoughtless. Although if that’s how you’re gonna be then I take it back, geez. As if you need sympathy when every girl in this maze—” you froze, clamping your mouth shut when you realized what you’d been about to say. “Uhhhh.”

Touya’s eyes slowly slid down your face, flickering over you as another fucking obnoxious smirk started to twitch at the side of his mouth. “When every girl in this maze what?” he asked, pleasure turning his tone a little silky.

You rolled your eyes, leaning forward to grab the rubbing alcohol off of the couch so you didn’t have to look at him. “When every girl in this maze would like for you to shut up and stop asking questions,” you said, unscrewing the top with a deliberate focus.

Calloused fingers came up to yank the tube out of your grip, however, and Touya leaned in, his grin sharp and white.

“Lemme do it, sweetheart. Return the favor for my prosthetic,” he said. You winced, remembering how forcefully you’d applied his forehead earlier. As you braced yourself, however, his fingers brushed gently over your skin.

You suppressed a shiver at the feeling of him wiping off the blood with the rubbing alcohol, then going over it with the antibiotic cream, smearing it delicately, your nose going hot again. He took his time, careful to cover every inch, kneeling on the ground in front of you with your ankle clutched in one large hand. His duster fanned out behind him, dragging on the ground as he bent over you, but he didn’t seem to care, too absorbed in his task.

When he was done he carefully applied the bandage too, and you looked on, mystified, as he cracked the ice pack with long, strangely elegant fingers, and pressed it over your ankle bone as well.

His eyes flicked back to yours when you let out a short hiss, feeling the zing of the ice all the way in your teeth. Some of his expression looked squashed, given the obstruction of his prosthetic, but you thought he looked maybe just a little bit concerned, before he realized you were just being a baby. You were suddenly overcome with the urge to rip off his prosthetic so you could see his expression in full, and had to pin your arm to your side to stop yourself.

“This was—unexpected,” you admitted, watching him closely. “You’re…a surprisingly good nurse, Touya. Thank you.”

His answering smile was nothing short of wicked. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

You fumbled with the antiseptic and sniffed pointedly, just to have something to complain about. “Well. Your bedside manner could use some work.”

Touya leaned in, his smile suddenly going dark. “Oh, angel, now that’s not what I’ve been told—”

Your palm shot out to cover his mouth, horror overriding your normal brain function. Touya just laughed into the skin of your hand, however, shockingly boyish and sweet-sounding.

You pressed harder, hissing at him to shut the hell up, until you registered the feeling of dry, raised skin under your fingers. You jumped, realizing you were pressing down on his scars.

“Shit, did I hurt you—?” you asked, yanking your hand back, only for Touya to catch your wrist. He blinked, looking surprised that he had.

“No it’s—you didn’t—” he said. His fingers shifted over yours and his eyes darted over your hand in something like shock. “They get dry and pull but they don’t—it wasn’t that.” He sounded annoyed, but not that you’d touched him. That you’d pulled away from touching him.

Somehow, that settled you. Before you understood what exactly was possessing you, you reached back in, satisfied when Touya let you. The pads of your fingers met the edge of a scar again, feeling along the seam. You carefully traced over it the way Touya’s had just traced the cut on your ankle.

Touya’s eyelashes fluttered, and he let out a slow breath. “You don’t need to touch ‘em, sweetheart,” he said finally.

He said it as lightly as he’d said all his earlier nonsense, but he’d been giving you shit for long enough that you recognized there was something deliberate about the ease of his tone this time. This wasn’t his usual, natural timbre.

“Does it bother you?” you asked.

It seemed to take him a minute to decide.

“...No,” he answered, those cerulean eyes catching on yours again. You felt like you could feel your heartbeat in your own fingers, and your skin prickled with something—annoyingly not annoyance.

“Well then shut up,” you told him. “Or I’ll pinch you right on the seam.”

Touya laughed, a slow rolling sound. “Promises promises,” he said, but he seemed more relaxed.

You felt along the contours of his face, mystified by what the hell you thought you were even doing, until you reached the edge of the prosthetic you’d applied. It only took a second for you to give in to the impulse you’d had earlier and start peeling it from his skin, slow and deliberate.

You reached down and helped yourself to the rubbing alcohol, applying it around the prosthetic, letting it dissolve the adhesive before pulling gently. Shockingly, Touya let you do it. He just sat there, watching you with an intensity you’d never experienced before, hardly blinking.

You kept careful track of the prosthetic, unable to look him in the eye, focusing on rubbing off the makeup you’d used to blend it in for good measure. You tried not to examine the weirdly satisfied feeling that settled in your stomach when his natural face was visible to you again.

It was probably just his looks. He really was so handsome for such a grating personality.

You set the prosthetic aside, lost on where to go from here. Touya probably thought you were so fucking weird for just like, rubbing his face like he was some kind of cat. He certainly looked like he had no idea what to do now, which was such a departure from his usually snotty self-assurance that it threw you for an even bigger loop.

“Always thought you’d be a little rougher with me, sweetheart,” Touya finally managed, flashing you a smirk. It looked a little smaller than usual though, like he was drawing it up like a shield, but your hackles raised instantly, like always.

You always, always responded to him.

“Trust me, that can be arranged,” you promised darkly, trying to crack your knuckles. Only one of them crackled obligingly, however, and Touya blinked, before laughing again.

“Yeah?” he asked, leaning in closer. Cigarette smoke and cinnamon clouded your senses, fogging up your brain. “Gonna fuck me up nice and good, sweetheart?”

You dredged around for something snarky to say, but words were suddenly failing you as those infuriatingly pretty features drew closer. Seriously could a makeup artist not catch a break around here?

“Uhhh,” was all you managed, your brain bluescreening, as Touya huffed a laugh, exhaling over your mouth.

“Shut up,” you finally spat out, catching a fistful of that black hair. Touya groaned, however, looking like he liked that of all things, and a red hot flash of something jolted through you.

There was a pause, then, a tiny sliver of a moment where it seemed like one of you might pull back—move away and snipe at one another from a safer distance.

Things somehow seemed to be spiraling out of control, in a way you hadn’t expected, after just one kind gesture from him. You didn’t really understand how you’d suddenly found yourself with him leaning over you, your hand pulling at his hair, but if you had any good sense you’d have pulled away immediately and told him something extra mean, just for good measure.

Except then Touya opened his mouth and escalated things, as usual.

“Make me,” he said, the most absolutely heinous line of all time. You yanked his hair harder, deeply disgusted that he’d try that on you.

And then, like a thread had snapped, you leaned forward and crushed your mouth to his.

Touya reacted like a lightning strike. He surged up over you, weighing you down into the staff room couch. He tasted like spearmint muddled under bitter smoke, and he was broader than he looked under that duster, heavy with lean muscle. You could feel every kilo of it press you down into the cushions as Touya licked hot and filthy into your mouth.

His tongue curled around yours, wet and teasing, and he exhaled on a groan like he’d never tasted anything better. It sent little sparks of electricity jittering up your spine, especially as he shifted between your thighs, that trim waist slotting between them perfectly.

“Fuck, angel,” he said, his tone somewhere between sweet and nasty. “Wanted me this whole time, huh?”

You yanked harder on his hair, telling him to shut up, but the swelling of something hard against your thigh told you he only liked that more. “You are so nasty,” you told him, and you could feel his mouth curl into a wicked grin against the side of your face, before he leaned in and bit the shell of your ear, grinding the evidence of his interest even harder into your thigh.

“I can show you nasty, sweetheart,” he promised, his tone going silky-soft again. A calloused hand slid up into your shirt brazenly, long fingers teasing the underside of your bra. When you didn’t immediately try to yank him out of there he wiggled in further, until his fingers met your nipples, and he got even harder against your leg.

He pinched carefully, moving back to kiss you again so that the sound that escaped you was muffled into his mouth. He kissed you harder as your nipples tightened, pebbling in his fingers, something far too satisfied filling the air around you. His hips canted up, grinding himself into you again, this time a little closer to your core.

Your own hips shifted, moving to increase the friction, trying to shift him closer to your center. His fingers and tongue teased you, each flick of his tongue mirroring the caress of a finger, the soft pinch of his index and thumb.

You couldn’t have controlled yourself if you wanted, too focused on the sensations he was drawing from you, the desperate need to get closer to him though you were already pressed together from mouth to shin. You realized you’d been pulling at his coat when he finally withdrew from your shirt and let you yank it down his arms, exposing a patchwork of scars over dense, mouth-wateringly well-defined muscle.

You inhaled sharply, and Touya paused for a minute—until he seemed to realize that you were fixated on the shape of his arm, rather than the purple bruise of scar tissue. The quickening of his grin in the corner of your vision told you that you’d pleased him.

“You like that, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice obnoxiously sweet. “Want to see the rest of me, angel?”

You ripped your eyes off of his arm to glare at him, which only made his grin wider. The fluorescent lights behind him limned his hair in a pale light, blinding you when he moved his head—and all of a sudden you recalled where you were and what you were doing.

“Here? No! Touya, anyone could walk in!” you said, trying to scramble out from beneath him.

Touya caught you around the thigh, hauling you back underneath him. You noticed he was careful to angle your leg up so you didn’t catch your ankle against the arm of the couch.

“This is far from the worst thing I’ve done in a public place,” he said, laying himself back out over you.

You pushed at his shoulder though, casting a worried glance back at the door. “I am not trying to get fired,” you hissed, even as you shivered with the delicious heat of him over you.

Touya sighed through his nose, and then heaved himself off the couch. You watched him seize the plastic makeup chair and haul it over to the door, stuffing it under the knob at an angle so that it held the lock in place. Then he turned around and prowled right back to you with predatory intent. Your stomach fluttered.

“Better, angel?” he asked, tone soft.

You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of nodding, but he seemed to know what you wanted anyway, leaning back in to kiss you fiercely.

You melted into the feeling of his mouth over yours, kissing him back just as passionately. You hated how good he was at that, hated how pretty he was under all those scars and piercings, hated how his obnoxious personality wasn’t even a factor in what you wanted to do with him right now.

Touya groaned again when you pulled at a fistful of his dark hair, and then you were dragging him down to the couch and climbing into his lap. Touya seized your left leg as you did, pointedly guiding your ankle away from the edge of the seat, and it only inflamed your desire for him.

“Like you a whole lot better like this,” he said into your mouth, as calloused fingers slid into your leggings.

Your reply was cut off by a moan as he traced his index finger lightly over the center of your panties, before pressing down firmly over your clit. A thousand little points of electricity lit up under your skin, and you shifted into his hand unthinkingly.

A smile formed against your lips, and it was only Touya’s hand making its way into your panties that suppressed the annoyed buzz that started in the back of your brain.

“You kick up such a fuss, sweetheart, but look at what you really think of me,” Touya purred as his fingers slid up into your incriminatingly wet folds. “All this for me, angel?”

You wanted to bite him for his cheek but you feared breaking the skin of his scars, so you settled for giving him a pointed look. He just laughed, his smile smug.

“I’ll show you what I’ve really thought of you too, sweetheart,” he promised, taking hold of your leg again to slide your leggings and panties down. He settled you back over the hard line in his pants, grabbing your hips and pulling you firmly down over it, grinning.

“Love when you’re a spitfire little fucking brat. I’ve imagined taking you right over the vanity every single day for the last three years, sweetheart. Taking you against the lockers and then right here over the couch. Fucking you so hard that you scream and everyone comes running in to see you squirming and crying and begging on my cock, and you want it so much that you don’t even care—”

He laughed when he felt you clench up in his lap, working to unbuckle his belt and free himself, immediately angling you over him. “You want that too, sweetheart? Want to see if I can make you scream so loud that people come to see what’s wrong?”

“My god you never shut up,” you told him, pointedly avoiding the question. In lieu of an answer, you shifted, guiding him to your center and sinking down onto him instead. You watched with satisfaction as he threw his head back and hissed at the feeling of you slipping down around him.

“Fffffffffffuck,” he said to the ceiling, a hand tightening in your sweater. You had to agree, gritting your teeth with the delicious slide of him inside of you, hot and thick and full and perfect. You leaned in, putting your mouth over the scar tissue on his neck, smirking when he exhaled shakily again.

“I think,” Touya huffed. “I should have put you over my lap three fucking years ago.”

You thought back to your first glimpse of him, flicking ash at you as he chainsmoked outside the maze entrance, and thought you would have probably gouged his eyes out if he had tried. Honestly he’d barely scraped together enough good will with his little ankle treatment as it was.

But maybe this is what that girl had been talking about, when she said Touya didn’t talk to anyone besides you. Had he really been more into you than he’d let on, these three years? Is that why he’d been at your throat this entire time?

The thought was lost when Touya’s hips lifted into yours, grinding himself into you just right, and your head fell back with a shivery moan. Touya’s mouth found the skin of your throat and sucked as he bucked up into you, picking up into a faster pace. You rocked back and forth over his lap, guided by Touya’s grip on your hips, relishing in the feel of him inside of you.

His fingers slid back down, brushing over your clit, and you bit down a yelp as he dragged his thumb over it firmly.

“That’s it,” he said, biting down softly on your neck. “Let me hear you, sweetheart.”

You pressed a hand over your mouth instead as he slid in and out of you, those clever fingers working you deftly. He pinched softly, then swirled the pad of his thumb firmly over your clit again, groaning and pounding up into you. “I wanna hear you, sweetheart. Always want to hear your mean little mouth.”

“Touya—shut up—” you panted as he moved you how he wanted, played you like an instrument. Between his fingers and the hard press of him inside you, you felt like you couldn’t escape the pleasure, the feeling mounting within you. No matter how you moved your hips, his fingers were there to meet you, rubbing maddening circles, teasing you mercilessly, and he filled you so good that it felt like he was pressing against that spot from the inside too.

You writhed with the feel of him, as he steadily covered your neck and shoulders with marks of his attention. You couldn’t help but moan, much much louder than you would have liked, and Touya leaned back to look at you again, looking pleased.

“That’s it, yeah,” he said, another grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Louder for me, sweetheart. Want you to come for me.”

You huffed, unable to do anything but squirm in his lap, chasing the feeling closer, ever closer to the edge. You weren’t going to let his infuriating attitude ruin this for you, not when you were so close—

Without input from your brain, your hand reached out to grab a fistful of Touya’s hair again and his hips stuttered, slamming up into you with more force than he had previously. He looked a little shocked, and then a little dazed, and the grip he had on the side of your hip tightened almost to the point of bruising as he forced you down onto him harder, gasping.

“Fuck, yeah, sweetheart—fuck yes,” he rasped.

His fingers rubbed you harder, and his hips slapped up into you frantically. The uptick in intensity had your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head, and you bit your palm to keep the sounds in.

Touya ground into you with a renewed fervor, and it was only another matter of seconds before something inside of you was being wrenched loose. You lost the grip on your control, every nerve ending in your body lighting up and coming alive, singing with pleasure. You seized up, crying, “Oh my god, Touya!” and then you were cumming hard, harder than you ever had, Touya’s talented fingers still working you, his cock still fucking you mercilessly.

Touya swore, spitting out your name like a curse, and then again in almost reverent tones, before he too was following you right off the edge. He slammed you down on him once, twice, and then he was cumming too—shivering against you as he held you tight against him.

The silence of the room around you was ringing, once you managed to return to yourself. Touya was a long, hot, hard wall of muscle between your thighs, his hair mussed and a patch of makeup you’d missed smearing into the hair at his temple. His cheeks were flush with effort over the seam of his scars, and he looked, irritatingly, even more beautiful than he usually did.

Like he could sense what you were thinking, the corner of his mouth rose as those cerulean eyes searched over you, blinking like a pleased cat.

“Fuck, sweetheart. I knew I liked you mean,” he said, his raspy tone rougher than normal.

“And I don’t like you at all,” you sniffed, though you knew the protest was pointless when he was quite literally softening inside of you. You let go of his hair, remembering yourself.

“Aww angel don’t be like that,” he drawled, his grin widening. He leaned in, pressing a slow kiss over your mouth. “I can make it up to you—all three years, if you’ll let me.”

You knew he felt your involuntary shiver, pressed up against you like he was. And that was definitely answer enough for him, as his smile went more handsome and boyish than you’d ever seen it. You hated that you liked it.

“I’ll clean up and clock out,” Touya told you, gingerly helping you off of him and back into your leggings, his eyes fixating a little too closely on your legs as you did so. “You tell your friends you’re gonna go home and rest that ankle. And I’ll pick you up out front, angel.”

You flushed, embarrassed that you’d completely forgotten that you were at work, and you’d intended to go out bar hopping after. But you figured you could be forgiven just this one time.

“Fine,” you said, though your insides were feeling a little fluttery at the thought of leaving with Touya. “But I expect penitence or there’s going to be a reckoning.” You supposed you were owed, for all these years of suffering.

Touya looked down at you from under his lashes, dark and beautiful and still as infuriating as ever. “I’ll give you my best, sweetheart. Over and over until you can’t even walk,” he promised, “Gotta keep you off that ankle, after all.”

You flushed again, yanking your sweater down over your leggings, and fled out the door. Touya’s laughter floated after you, sounding pleased.

You sped up your pace, your ears burning.

And if you were actually rushing not to get away from him, but to return to him sooner? Well, then, nobody needed to know that but you.

maybe in another lifetime. maybe in another universe he could have met you earlier, met you whole and unbroken.

he's aware how he only brings you pain, how he won't be enough, his soul smoke and ashes and there's nothing to save, nothing to pull together to offer you. and oh, how much he wants to present you with his heart, beating between his hands only for you. but his insides are nothing more than anger and grief, hatred and jealousy. what good would it be to show you this?

and in another life, maybe, he could have bared himself to you; his blackened bones, his rotting fear, his soft desperation, craving love more than revenge. in another place, he would have taken your hand, caressed your skin with his own, with another skin, with the skin of your love.

but there he is, hands empty, his insides covered and bulging. the blackness inside of him too overwhelming to ignore. who is he to still keep you? to keep you despite his skin, not the right one, not the one you need. and maybe for the first time in his life, he chooses to give up, he chooses to let you go, to let you drop before his fingertips blacken your bones.

he can't help but think: maybe in another lifetime.

💜7 mins in heaven with Dabi: Pt. 5💙

Continuation of Part 4

Walking back to the table, you notice Hitoshi eyeing you suspiciously. Part of you felt guilty towards Hitoshi considering what the two of you did this morning, while the other part of you felt smug that you finally one-uped the most notorious player on campus.

Casually, you sit next to Hitoshi which was Touya's previous spot. Reaching across the table, you grab your bag and open it again to finish eating your donut. Tomura was now diagonal from you and was shooting you a questioning look.

"Where's Touya?"

"I saw him go into the restroom as I came out." The lie rolled off your tongue easily, not even batting an eye as you take a bite of your donut. It tasted even sweeter than before.

Hitoshi shifts next to you, moving slightly closer as you stared back at Tomura innocently. Yo and Keigo were on the other side of Hitoshi and Tomura respectively, lost in their own conversation. Tomura's gaze was calculating, which was starting to make you uncomfortable. You assumed he was the quiet stay-in-my-business type, but now you weren't so sure. Thankfully Keigo noticed you were back and spoke up.

"Hey, (Y/n), are youf doin' anyfin' tonight?" The question was muffled around a mouthful of donut.

"Nope. Just free-loading with this guy." Elbowing Hitoshi playfully, you spare him a glance seeing that he was already staring at you with a gaze you didn't quite understand.

Looking back to Keigo, your answer seemed to trigger his memory of what he walked into this morning. His chewing slowed and Hitoshi shifted next to you again also noticing Keigo's gaze.

"Riigghhttt..." Keigo swallowed, uncertain, "well I was wondering if you wanted to come to a party with us tonight? It's being held at the same place as before."

Memories from that night flooded your mind and you couldn't help but sigh. That's when this whole mess started.

"Why do I get the feeling all you do is party?" You teased Keigo instead, setting your donut down on the bag as you leaned back into your seat. Your hands found their way to your lap, accidentally brushing against Hitoshi's hand which was resting on his thigh. His other hand was visible on the table, playing with the lid of his coffee cup absently.

Hitoshi subtly moves his hand and brushes against yours again, the two of you having your hands next to each other under the table.

Holding back a shy smile, you bite your lower lip as Keigo rolls his eyes. "We're in college! Partying is part of the learning experience!"

Just then, a body slumps into the seat in front of you. Everyone turns and looks at Touya whose gaze was solely fixated on you.

You tilt your head slightly in question, innocent enough for everyone else at the table but the knowing glint in your eyes had Touya's eyes flashing.

Hitoshi's hand twitches against yours under the table.

A closer look at Touya and you could see the flushed glowing skin on his cheeks. Raising an eyebrow, you lift the hand not next to Hitoshi and break off a piece of your donut, biting into it slowly.

"Are you good?" Hitoshi asks, speaking up for everyone at the table. Touya never breaks his gaze from you.

"Never better."

His words were low and knowing, but you shrug nonchalantly and turn back to Keigo. "Sure, I'll go."

"Yessss!" Keigo pumps the air with his arm.

"Go where?" Touya asks, and you can see him still staring at you in your peripheral.

"Oh, I just invited (Y/n) to the party tonight!" Keigo explains before turning to scold Yo for sneaking two more donuts.

Touya hums from across the table, probably thinking the same thing you did. You couldn't help the blush that found its way to your cheek, but you busied yourself with the donut, not looking up at anyone.

"I'll go too," Hitoshi speaks up suddenly, removing his hand from under the table to lean back and stretch his hands above his head. Keigo gasps harshly and everyone else at the table turns to look at him in surprise.

"You? At a party?!" Yo gaps at Hitoshi, chewed-up donut visible in his mouth. Hitoshi grimaces in disgust and looks down at his coffee before looking to stare at Touya.

"Why not? It seems as though I missed out on these 'learning experiences.'"

Touya didn't say anything in return but met Hitoshi's gaze head-on, his stare cold and unwavering making an uneasy feeling settle in your stomach.

~*~*~*~*

Breakfast ended soon after that as classes were starting for a few people, including you.

You parted ways with Hitoshi after discussing class schedules and deciding on a place to meet so you two could both head back to his dorm before the party.

Class went by in a blur, a few people talking about the dorms that got shut down and the few scandalous roommate situations that had come up as a result.

You tried eavesdropping on a few conversations wondering if your name would come up. Hitoshi was a low-key person, but since he was close friends with some notorious people on campus, you weren't sure what to expect.

"I tried asking Touya if I could stay with him, but he didn't even pay attention to me!" A girl whined to her friends in front of you as you flipped a page in your notebook, pretending to take notes.

A few of her friends 'awed' in pity, trying to console her. "Well, you know what they say about Touya...you should've known he wouldn't go back to you."

One of the friends spoke up truthfully and another shot her a 'shut-up' look. However, the girl whining only sniffed and nodded her head solemnly.

"Yeah...I know. If only I could relive that night again..." she sighs dreamily. This time all of her friends echo her dreamy sign.

"We all do," they say simultaneously.

Yikes.

Your lips curl up in disgust and tune them out, not bothering to listen to whatever details they were going to relive.

Absently, you start doodling on the paper. Little hearts and flowers scattered along the border. Your mind wonders to this morning, before the coffee shop. Sure, discovering you had somehow managed to one-up Touya was surprising, but Hitoshi's coy smirk was lodged in your brain.

The sound of his voice when he called you 'kitten' or just the simple fact he gave up his room for you to sleep in for however long you needed.

Not to mention the almost-kiss you had. Lately, it seemed like you've had a few of those close calls which didn't settle right in your stomach. First with Touya and then with Hitoshi, but out of the two, you felt more drawn to-

Your phone buzzed twice in succession, snapping you out of your daze.

brainwxshed: hey

bvrnt.eros: hey

Are you fucking kidding me?

You look at both messages, torn between who to answer first or if you should even answer them at all. Touya was the troubled one and the one you weren't too happy with at the moment no matter how downright sinful he was.

Hitoshi on the other hand has done nothing wrong to warrant your anger. Putting your pencil down, you slouch lower in your seat and open your phone, tapping on Hitoshi's message.

you: hii

You see him typing, but your fingers itch to tap on Touya's message too.

Should I? What does he have to say? Is he going to talk about this morning? Is he-

brainwxshed: sooo about this party later...what should i expect? fuck that sounds so lame...

You smile fondly.

you: you don't have to go if you're uncomfortable. im not to big on parties either. I just went to one that one time.

And look at my consequences.

brainwxshed: im going if you're going. gotta protect my little kitten.

brainwxshed: *the little kitten.

Your face heats and you drop your phone on your desk, holding in a squeal. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as it did backflips. Asshole. You knew that wasn't a typo and he was teasing you again but you couldn't find it in you to be mad.

Rubbing your face with your hands, you pick your phone up and switch to Touya's message to hopefully calm down.

you: what?

bvrnt.eros: hm...you're cold, (Y/n). i think i should be the one mad at you for what you did to me this morning.

Yep. There it is.

you: not my fault.

bvrnt.eros: oh dollface...but it was. walking off like that and leaving me alone to take care of myself after you made me so fucking hard...

Conflicting emotions shot through you.

you: again...not intentional so it's not my fault.

bvrnt.eros: i don't think you understand the concept of sexting, let me explain-

Gritting your teeth, you go back to Hitoshi's message.

you: protection from...?

brainwxshed: hey, you never know. i've heard stories and one thing i know for sure is that college parties are never good☝🏻...and they're crowded.

you: ahh...is that why you never went to one?

brainwxshed: ...partially. but also, why go when i can watch studio ghibli films in my dorm and draw?

Just then another message popped down from Touya.

bvrnt.eros: so sexting is basically like dirty talk over text. i said you made me hard this morning and i jerked off to the thought of you in the donut shop bathroom and you're supposed to respond with something sexy to keep the conversation going.

Oh my-

Angrily you tap on the message.

you: im not stupid and im not sexting you.

bvrnt.eros: boooo 🍅

You tap back to Hitoshi's message.

you: that sounds nice actually. if you wanna stay in your dorm, i'll stay with you.

brainwxshed: stay with me? careful kitten~ we might end up like this morning~

Your face heats up again.

you: i have no idea what you're talking about.

brainwxshed: 'stay with me' and i can show you later~

Another message from Touya pops down

bvrnt.eros: soo...this party tonight is kinda like our anniversary hm? how should we celebrate 👀

With every message Touya sends, you feel more agitated. He's ruining the mood that keeps building between you and Hitoshi. You swipe his message away and return to Hitoshi's message.

you: are you gonna kiss me for real this time?

Or so you thought.

bvrnt.eros: ...fuck.

bvrnt.eros: dollface i would kiss you all over if you let me.

Fuck.

Your body went ridged seeing Touya respond to the message meant for Hitoshi. Realizing you sent it to the wrong person and adding fuel to the fire that you were so desperately trying to put out.

Do I tell him that wasn't for him? Will he know I meant to send that to Hitoshi? How do I respond to Hitoshi now?

Your fingers twitch over your keypad, panic rising inside of you. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-

bvrnt.eros: im looking forward to tonight, (Y/n).

Your fingers frantically type out many different forms of 'no' and 'that wasn't for you' but couldn't find one to settle on and send. The fact that Hitoshi was also waiting on a response made you panic even more.

Calm down, (Y/n).

Locking your phone, you set it down and take a deep breath. Deciding not to say anything more and make it worse, you shakily put your phone down and tune back into the professor who was dismissing the class.

You had to meet up with Hitoshi soon anyways and you weren't sure you could even look him in the eyes. Guilt washes over you, not knowing what to do or how to fix this situation. Tonight was not going to be fun.

~*~*~*~*

You met with Hitoshi soon after.

He was smirking at you avoiding him, but you knew he probably thought you were embarrassed from the text conversation when in reality that wasn't the case at all. Maybe under different circumstances you might've been, but because you were so careless-

"I need to stop at my old dorm and get extra clothes," remembering the text from this morning about the repairs not being finished and since you only packed for today, you needed more clothes.

"Sure," Hitoshi nods as the two of you begin to walk to the South dorms. "So..." he starts, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

You gulp.

"So?"

Hitoshi smirks, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"So about earlier..."

"Earlier? What happened earlier?" Panic rose in your chest. Did he find out? Did Touya screenshot your message and send it to him? Oh God what if-

Hitoshi turns and cuts in front of you, a pierced eyebrow raised in concern. "The party. You never told me what to expect."

A heavy breath leaves you in a rush.

"Right. The party." Shouldering past Hitoshi, you try to calm down, opening the door to the South dorms, frigid air hitting you like a ton of bricks.

Cursing lightly, you walk faster to your room and fumble with the door, footsteps cautiously catching up.

"Um..." Throwing open the door, you let Hitoshi in as you go to rummage through your closet. "Well, there's going to be a lot of people and alcohol. Music can be expected too. Just typical college party stuff," you mouth off quickly, still rattled thinking that Hitoshi found out about earlier.

Hitoshi wasn't even paying attention, walking around your dorm room and observing the little trinkets and decorations you had. It's only been one night, but you did miss it here. You turn back to your closet and pack a week's worth of clothes just in case and shove them into a bag.

"I really hope they fix the heater soon. I don't want to overstay or anything," you comment absently, folding a pair of pants.

"I thought you liked staying with me?" Hitoshi's voice was low and closer than expected, making you jump. Well, that certainly didn't take long for him to bring that part of the conversation up.

It felt as though he was right by your ear and you couldn't find the courage to turn around. Shakily, you place the pants in your bag and sidestep before turning and walking to your dresser to pull out undergarments.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Hitoshi still standing there, probably confused, before slowly turning towards you again.

"I do! I mean, thank you, but still. A week is a long time," you explain, counting off a checklist in your brain. Now...what to wear tonight...

You hastily pull open the bottom drawer, finding a short black dress you've only worn once before.

"Okay, I'm finished." Turning to Hitoshi, you shove the dress in the bag and walk back towards the door.

"Let's go, I'm freezing." Smiling innocently, Hitoshi regards you with a thoughtful look, not saying anything as you two leave the room. Locking the door and exiting the building was met with silence.

Hitoshi seemed lost in his thoughts and didn't say a word on the way back to his dorm for the two of you to get ready.

~*~*~*~*

The party was already packed by the time you and Hitoshi showed up. He stuck close to your side, looking uncomfortable at the number of people in such a small space. You didn't blame him, also wanting to get out of here as soon as possible and hopefully avoid Touya.

Of course, fate has other plans for you.

"(Y/n) and Hitoshi, over here!" Keigo calls out loudly over the music. Cursing, you trudge over and avoid looking at the piercing blue eyes already next to Keigo.

A warm flush finds its way to your face anyway and you manage a small smile at Keigo. Tomura and Yo were off to the side talking while drinking some beers. You try to recall if you saw them at the previous party but the only thing you remember is woodsy musk, sandalwood, and cigarette smoke.

I need to get out of here.

"Perfect timing! We were just about to play spin the bottle truth or dare!" Keigo motions to the large group of people surrounding the area and they cheer loudly.

Nope.

You take a large step back holding up your hands. "Have fun!"

"Awh c'mon, (Y/n)," Touya teases across from you. "It'll be fun. Just like last time." After stressing the last part, he glances at Hitoshi smugly and another wave of guilt washes over you.

You grit your teeth and shake your head, anxiety creeping up your spine. To your surprise, Hitoshi only steps forward.

"I'll play."

Keigo cheers excitedly, pumping his fist. "Oh, dude, this is the best day ever!"

Tomura had stopped talking to Yo, who was still talking regardless if Tomura was listening or not, observing the scene in front of him. Uncomfortable wasn't even a strong enough word you'd use to describe the situation.

Touya looked calm and collected as Hitoshi walked to stand next to him, the two of them now staring at you expectantly.

Purple and blue stared at you hotly, warmth spreading across your cheeks as they had looks of longing. Both held heat and memories of almost-kisses, but only one of them had a false knowing of what you said earlier.

"Uh..." Not knowing what to do, the whole group of college students now eagerly waited for you to answer.

"GUESS WHO'S BACK, FUCKERS!" The door slammed open suddenly, a loud voice ringing loud over the music.

Everyone turned to the door and loud cheers rang out, cutting the tension. Your shoulders sag in relief seeing Touya and Hitoshi finally look away from you. You follow their gaze seeing a blonde-haired man wearing black joggers and a black sweatshirt grinning manically at everyone welcoming him back.

"Kat!" Keigo calls out, running up to clap him on the back. "Man, this day really couldn't get any better!"

Well, at least someone is having a good time.

Kat claps Keigo on the back too and walks over to the group in front of you. Yo groans, making Kat roll his eyes and flick him on the forehead.

Yo scowls and rubs his head. Tomura greets Kat with a small smile and nod, offering to get him a beer. Touya grins and steps up, ruffling the spikey blonde hair making Kat snarl as he swats the hand away. Hitoshi was last, dapping up Kat fondly with a muted, "Hey, bro."

Hitoshi turns to you and motions you over.

"Katsuki, this is (Y/n). (Y/n), this is Katsuki." You awkwardly smile, not sure if this was the right time to be meeting Hitoshi's roommate. Brother?

"Hey," Katsuki smirks, giving Hitoshi a look you didn't miss. Or Touya. "Hitoshi told me the situation already. It's cool if you still need a place to stay, but I'll need my room back."

The realization hit you suddenly and you risk a glance at Hitoshi who also had a small blush on his face, avoiding your gaze.

Seeing him blush made you blush more, awkwardly shifting your stance. Katsuki cackles at the sight of you and Hitoshi, but lays off the teasing, turning to Tomura who hands him a beer.

"So what are we doing?" He asks, biting the lid off with his teeth. Your mouth drops open slightly in awe as Keigo happily fills Katsuki in.

"Heh, spin the bottle, 'Toshi? What the hell happened when I was away?" Katsuki asks, shooting you another quick glance.

Hitoshi grumbles something you can't hear, making Katsuki smirk, and the both of them walk back to the circle. You go to follow and notice Touya's seething face once Hitoshi leaves your field of vision.

You quickly move away and go back to your previous spot, Tomura now standing next to you. "Are you okay?"

He whispered the question low, and you let out a huge breath you didn't know you were holding.

"No."

Tomura reaches out a hand, concerned, and you grab it shakily. He squeezes your hand and you squeeze it back, thankful for the reassurance.

"Right! So who wants to start?" Keigo announces to the large group of college students. A lot of cheers and drunken words rang out.

Tomura keeps a hold of your hand, tucking into your side as you stare at the damned bottle on the table. Touya and Hitoshi were back to standing next to each other across from you and if they were staring at you and Tomura holding hands, you couldn't find it in you to care. Though you were sure Tomura was staring right back without a care in the world.

"You're going to have to make a decision sometime." Tomura lays his head on your shoulder, murmuring solemnly. The question doesn't surprise you since you noticed his observation skills, so you were sure he had caught on long ago.

"...I know," you mutter back, still staring at the bottle unblinkingly. It was nice to have someone to talk to. You haven't told anyone of the situation going on and the drama that followed, so finding comfort in Tomura was reassuring and needed. Although unexpected.

"Do you have any clue which one?" Tomura asks, the both of you locked in your own world, watching Katsuki be the first one to spin.

Do I?

Honestly, it felt like you've been debating this question constantly for the past few days. Both made your heart race with excitement. Touya kept you on your toes but had a bad reputation and a cocky attitude to match. Hitoshi was unexpected in the way he welcomed you with open arms, but loved to tease you endlessly.

As of right now, there were no cons with Hitoshi but yet something still prevented you from committing fully.

"Not a clue," you finally admit, leaning your cheek on Tomura's head.

Tomura hums and the two of you watch Katsuki dare Yo to do a keg stand. Yo blanches as the crowd starts chanting his name in encouragement.

"Great. Now I'll have to deal with that later," Tomura sighs, annoyed.

Yo glares at a smirking Katsuki before flipping himself into a handstand, his shirt falling down making the crowd whistle and catcall him jokingly.

"Hm?"

"Yo. He's my roommate and cannot handle anything more than 2 beers," Tomura explains. "Which, Katsuki knows that."

You hum again and watch Yo stumble back down on his feet, looking green. Katsuki throws his arm around Yo's neck, saying something which only had Yo hiccuping in response.

"Your turn to spin, Yo!" Keigo exclaims excitedly.

Yo sways to the table and half-heartedly spins the bottle. It didn't spin very much and slowly made its way to you. You grip Tomura's hand tighter, watching the bottle stop.

Keigo cheers loudly.

"Truth or dare, (Y/n)?" Yo slurs, trying to focus his gaze on you.

"Uh...truth?" You whisper almost shyly, hearing the crowd boo.

Yo holds a hand to his chin to think. "Hm...who do you like more-"

"Dare!" You cut him off, not wanting him to finish that sentence. You were not going to risk that. People cheer at your change of heart.

"Okayyyy," Yo hiccups, "I dare you to do a 7 minutes in heaven with someone."

Yeah, no, that's completely better.

Keigo all but squeals, looking like he just won the lottery with how this night is going and Tomura squeezes your hand again tightly.

"Spin," Yo motions to the bottle, waiting for you.

The air seemed to crackle with electricity as you reached for the bottle, spinning it as hard as you could, praying it'd land on anyone but those two.

Touya and Hitoshi's gaze intensely watched the bottle, as the rest of the group cheered unknowingly at the tension. Your palms felt sweaty as anxiety loomed over you seeing the damned bottle slow as it towards Touya and Hitoshi.

It came to stop and the crowd 'ooh-ed' trying to figure out who it was pointing at.

"Is it...both of them?" Tomura murmured in awe, as Keigo whistled.

"Alright, I'll be the judge!" Keigo walked over to you and squatted down to see who the bottle was lined up with. "Oh wow...I've never seen this before. Ladies and gentlemen, it's split down the middle...we have a tie!" Keigo announces, hopping up.

The crowd gets hyped, all the girls shooting you a dirty look, but you really couldn't care because you were seconds away from passing out.

"Well, (Y/n)? Which one are you going to choose?"

~*~*~*~*

Touya's hitlist taglist:

@spaceisout @deputy-videogamer @magpiesworld @blahblahblahhhhhhhhhhhhhh @mod-hadagile @whokillednyx @ittybittywallflower @bubblewordsofsodapop @poopiepoopie123 @frontier-renegade @windex-princess-ami @yourfavoriteloover @ashash @shamefulwitch @allthingsleviackerman @97britt

OUR MOURNING GLORY ┊ TODOROKI TOUYA

synopsis: everything born in his body will eventually outgrow it. his love for you should be no different.

tags: GN reader, hanahaki au, strangers to friends to lovers, falling in love, requited unrequited feelings, quirkless reader, villain dabi, vomiting, hanahaki as a chronic illness, quirkless discrimination, lack of self worth, hurt + comfort, mild body horror, morally ambiguous reader, first kisses, very hopeful ending (<- I prommy lol)

wc: 5.4K

A/N: now with lovely cover art from momo! thank you so much!

Dabi really fucking hates doctors, has since he was a kid.

They’re too sterile. The strong antiseptic smell burned his sinuses and being surrounded by entirely white walls set him on edge. As though he had been deposited into a liminal space where time does not exist. A cacophony of suffering, incessant beeping, wheels rolling on old gurneys, echoed footsteps, all coalescing into prickly white noise.

Finding a place that would actually treat him was a hell in and of itself. Bigger hospitals and university medical centres weren’t viable options, given how beefed up security usually was. Seedy back-alley places existed in the areas he liked to haunt, but even the thought of stepping foot into one gave him sepsis.

Quirkless clinics were rare. Most that existed ran out of funding— the government saw no reason to care for a dying species. If you didn’t have a quirk then you had it bad. Citizens were legally required to have it listed under a disability on their medical records, and it wasn’t uncommon for people to be turned away in the emergency room because of it.

Dabi almost walked away that first night. As bad of a guy as he is, there was something inherently wrong about infringing on space that did not belong to him. But you had stepped out into the street for a break, jacket pulled close to your chest, took one look at the blood dried to his cheeks and rallied him inside.

He finds himself back here again, for the nth time. Today makes it an entire year since he met you, and ten full months since he coughed up that first bud. A mild inconvenience turned into an invasive bloom.

“…Hanahaki is a serious disease. It is a condition where vine-like buildup in your airways forms into buds, eventually flowering into…”

Morning glories. Buds of deep-blue, trumpet-shaped blossoms and leafy stems. The delicate petals taste surprisingly bitter, with a bite that lingers in the fissures between his molars after it has been ground into thin paste and swallowed. He had long since gotten used to the astringency— drying his throat, twisting his stomach.

“…At best it causes severe breathing difficulties and discomfort. Worst case scenario, it can be fatal…”

In the beginning he thought it would pass. Dabi has endured sickness all his life and a cough wasn’t about to stop his long laid plans. But it worsened, mutated into something he could not control. He remembers sitting in your bathroom on the toilet lid, the little blue burgeon rolling in the shallow of his palm. It’d been covered in bloody mucus, but still a pip, still harmless.

Any sane person might have been afraid at that moment, realising what fate awaited them. Dabi, however, felt oddly resigned. One in one hundred million. Of course this would happen to him. Death clung to him everywhere he went.

“Dabi, are you listening?”

Doctor Tereda had been the one to stitch him up back then. A quack with a near useless cell activation quirk and glasses lenses thick enough for a bullet to bounce off. You’d dragged him into her office, sat him on the bed with surprising strength, and she attended to him no questions asked.

Dabi tried not to make a habit of visiting one place too often, but between your pleading eyes and his rapidly worsening health, he ended up back in her office more times than he cared to.

He makes a noncommittal sound.

“As a medical professional I must strongly advise you to talk to the individual these feelings have bloomed for,” Terada says. Dabi does not like the sympathetic pinch in her brow. “That is the least invasive option”.

Prying open his chest and baring himself to you seems pretty damn invasive. “Not happening,” he mutters airily.

There’s a sense of satisfaction when her frown strains with frustration. Her glasses slip down the bridge of her nose. “Your case is incredibly advanced. It may be your only chance to tell—”

“You got something wrong with your ears?” he interrupts. The stitches beneath his eyes sting, pulled taut by his glare. “I said no”.

Tereda sighs and turns to her screen, pushing her frames back up. The keyboard clicks under her fingers. Every computer here was ancient, their systems totally outdated, but they made do.

“You have two more options. The best results are produced if both treatments are done together,” she explains. “First is surgery. You’ll be put under general anaesthesia and the disease will be removed along with some surrounding tissue in the lungs for biopsy. Memories of the loved one are usually lost”.

Dabi slouched to feign disinterest, betrayed by the restless bounce of his knee, “And?”

“Your second option is to attend an interpersonal psychotherapy programme,” she lifts her hand to silence him before he can interject. “This is highly recommended to patients after surgery to prevent relapse. But you can do it regardless, as it is helpful in reducing your symptoms, and while the disease becomes chronic, it is more manageable”.

Dabi’s jaw shifts as he grits his teeth, pulling at the staples by his mouth, “Calling me fucking crazy now, eh Doc?”

“No,” she replies cooly, schooling her features into something kinder. “As people we underestimate the influence our mental well being has over our physical condition. Hanahaki disease is rare, yes. But over a quarter of all cases are found to be psychosomatic”.

Dabi laughs dryly and brings a fist down hard, smoke squeezed from between his knuckles marred the desk with black. “So this is of my own making, is that what you’re saying?”

“This isn’t something you plant into yourself, Dabi. It isn’t your fault and I could be completely wrong. I’m not all knowing, I’m just a doctor,” a smooth hand is placed over top of his own in effort to comfort, “But torturing yourself will only feed it”.

He scrambles to his feet, the chair legs scraping piercingly across the tile, and snatches his fist back to hold behind his back. The doctor levels him with a sad, soft look, her upper body still leaned across the table.

“If you leave this as it is it will only hurt you. It is already hurting you,” Tereda continues critically. “We can mitigate this, Dabi. Before it kills you”.

That unearths some ill-gotten memory from the recesses of his brain. A film strip he replays often in solitude; the day Endeavor sat him down and told him he shouldn’t use his quirk anymore. At first it was a fatherly suggestion, unnaturally low and soft. “You should stop. It’s hurting you, Touya,” as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

That never made sense to him. In training they used to focus on fire, usually— on intensifying his flame power— but on occasion they would spar. Between poor footing and wrong steps, Endeavour always reprimanded tears and quick surrender.

“But it hurts…”

“Strong heroes fight through pain,” he said. “The world does not stop just because you are crying. Get up! Or are you weak?”

Touya took it to heart, back then. Clenched his chubby little fists tight and got to his feet with a wobbly snarl on his damp, swollen face.

Young minds are impressionable and his own had already been moulded by the very hands on his shoulders. Endeavour’s fingers had held on tight, dwarfing Touya’s frame; heat soaking through his shirt from those searing palms and the sting of old wounds had been enough to keep him grounded in reality. You should stop this. It’s hurting you.

Those words festered and ate away at his soul like an infection. Giving up was against everything he knew— and against everything Endeavor told him a hero should be. It was not an option he was willing to take, and so Touya trudged forward, just as he was taught.

Eventually Endeavour’s words evolved into demand. He became furious. Touya became accustomed to long sleeves and learned how to treat burns alone. Hands made for saving left oval shaped bruises and finger painted the entire family.

How do you abandon something stitched into the very fabric of your being? Being the Number One hero was his hereditary purpose. His father gave up on him so readily but Touya would have rather died than surrender when it got tough. Giving it up would be dying all the same.

Pain was a toll necessary for growth. He grew until his ambition and greed swallowed him whole. And now, there was you. A garden of weeds in his lungs. You were rooted into the capillaries and harvesting his yearning. Every time he coughed it felt like self immolation; a cruel cycle he can not stop repeating.

Hanahaki discriminates. It happens to those who feel deeply, people whose hearts are hemmed by the ones they love. Dabi is selfish but more than that he is lonely, and you’re the one good thing he has in this shit hole.

Accepting the surgery would just be another loss. A surrender. It wouldn’t matter in the grand scheme of things; Dabi is going to die either way. A walking corpse. Skin, esophagus, tear ducts, tissue— his fire burns all of it. Deep within him, eating away at his soft insides like dry grass. And what withstands that heat are the seeds you have unknowingly sown.

There is something disturbingly satisfying about carrying a piece of you to the grave with him, flowers proliferating around the earth that houses him. Call him twisted. It isn’t as if he’s unaware he’s got a few loose screws— he also has no desire to get better.

The silence is broken by the quiet scratch of pen to paper. Doctor Tereda offers a thin smile and slides a prescription across the table, signed and ready to be collected. “Here. This should help with the pain for at least a week or two. We know how easily you burn through medication so… don’t take too long to make your decision,” she hesitates before shaking her head. “And go to the emergency room if your breathing worsens”.

Dabi eyes her suspiciously, grabbing the slip and shoving it into his coat pocket. Worrying at his lower lip he offers her a short nod, the ‘thanks’ implied.

As he turns and makes his way toward the door, Dabi pauses just before turning the handle. He doesn’t look back as he mutters, “Keep this to yourself, yeah? That means no putting it on my records”.

Tereda hums curiously, “No one else has access to your records”.

He scoffed, turning his wrist and pulling the old door to demonstrate his point; a groan reverberates throughout the room as it opens, “Yeah right. This is hardly a fine establishment”.

“I resent that!”

Dabi strides through the familiar corridor toward the waiting room, ignoring Tereda’s indignant shout. He wasn’t off the mark about how shoddy the place is— atleast, in comparison to other medical centres. The building is small and narrow. It was built during the pre quirk era and handed off to the quirkless by the government to honour their status. The whole thing stank of ridicule and it pissed him off the more he thought about it.

You’re exactly where he expects you to be. Sitting pretty at your desk, twiddling your thumbs, keeping watch over the empty space and quietly mumbling some melody from Mount Lady’s latest hair care advert over the unremitting whirr of the fan above.

A laugh bubbles in his chest, drawing your attention, and it chokes him in effort to smother the sound. You are alarmingly predictable. There, plain as day on your computer screen, are his supposedly secure medical records.

Dabi pressed the heel of his hand to his sternum as he violently coughed. You’re talking to him now, on your feet and rubbing along his back. A viscous lump of petals forces its way into his throat and he feels his quirk react. Still, you don’t pull away.

“Deep breath,” God, that’d be nice. “You’re okay. I’ll get you some water,” Don't go.

You stop and let him drag you back by the wrist. He rights himself on his feet and forces the flowers down. “I’m—” bile stings the back of his mouth and he gags, turning his face into his coat collar to hide a grimace.

Dabi exhales and it sounds so thin. “Fuck. I’m fine. Don’t start,” he croaks, hardly convincing. Rooting through his pocket, he shoves his prescription slip forward to distract you, the paper crumpled into a small ball. “Doc gave me a prescription. It’s just a chest infection”.

He lingers and observes as you unwrinkle it. You’re careful to smooth out each corner and wrinkle. The tension swells as the silence stretches. He tempers the urge to snatch it back.

You squint at him, “A dosage this high for a chest infection?”

He shrugs and reaches over his head to yank his coat hood forward. “Doctor’s orders”.

After a beat, you relent and glance over to give him an exasperated smile, “Whatever. As long as it helps clear your lungs. You freaked me out last night with all that wheezing”.

You begin switching off your monitors, patting down at your pockets for the keys. To synchronise with the end of your shift, Dabi purposely chose the last appointment. That was another thing he has been doing a lot— trying to fit his life around yours.

“Watching me sleep now, perv?”

“Yeah. I love when a guy sounds like a punctured squeaky toy, really gets me worked up,” you drawl, falling in line with him after turning off the lights and checking the locks. Tereda would close up the rest.

You brought a tonal shift to his life he couldn’t have anticipated; enough that he regularly spent nights crashing on your couch to wait out the bad weather. There was something about you from the beginning that he couldn’t put a finger on. Nothing as simple as your attractiveness— you had a good heart, but not by society's standards, much like Twice.

A quick internet search would pull up listings of buildings he had burned and the trail of bodies left in his wake. But it didn’t matter. Villain, vigilante, hero, a person is a person, even him.

That first meeting, winter settling in, you admitted to him you were quirkless. A shitty olive branch effort, he’s sure. That whole instinctual radar that comes with being a misfit in this world. You left a strong impression. He recalls how he gave you the name Dabi, cackling harshly as if he were leaving you with a ticking time bomb, and you simply said: “Maybe I’ll see you again. Hopefully without all the blood, next time”.

He latched on and desperately wanted to hate you for it. Yet your arm is linking through his once again, pressed close to his side as the rain hammers down onto the empty street, and everything he can’t bring himself to say has taken root in his windpipe.

“Wanna come up?”

“For coffee?” he swipes his tongue over his teeth, raising a suggestive brow. Your offer is as innocent as it always is, and the sight of you flustered is as welcome as ever.

“Tea, actually,” is your poorly veiled response.

Dabi knows he’s getting too comfortable. You might be quirkless but you’re not stupid. Infact, at times you’re unsettlingly perceptive; his only mercy is that you are too nice to pry.

He should tell you ‘no’. Giran could probably set him up. He might even get away with crashing at the bar. Instead he says, “Not like I’ve got anywhere else to be”.

Your apartment building is nothing to write home about. Slightly run down, maintained by residents rather than their pig landlords. It stands shorter than the neighbouring buildings, the entire right side eaten by withered wisteria. Nobody bats an eyelid at his appearance in a place like this.

Inside is a mirror of the outside. Unremarkable in every way, yet he feels remarkably at home. You go in first, kicking off your shoes without bothering to line them up, waddling to the narrow linen closet in the hallway. You’ve managed to cram a dryer right beneath the shelves, since there was barely any space elsewhere.

“I can grab you something to wear while I put our stuff on a spin”.

The rain sticks to his forehead, thin streaks of black dye running down his temple. Grinning, you hand him an old towel, already stained and fraying at the hem, “You look harmless like this. Like a wet cat”.

He pats carelessly at his face while shucking off his coat. The nerves are long dead and it’s painless. You squawk when the heavy fabric hits the genkan floor with a wet slap. “Dabi!”

“That’s what you get,” he rolls his neck and bends to untie his boots, the towel thrown over his shoulder. “Harmless. I burned down a money laundering front just a few hours ago”.

“I saw it on the news. You’re such a dickhead,” you laugh, heading into the kitchenette. “There was no good reason for you to melt the asphalt of that entire city block”.

A smile works its way onto his face. Gross. “Can’t have them mistaking me for a good guy”.

“You are a good guy”.

“You’re delusional,” he shoots back, an unbearable fondness swelling in his chest. The pressure is the worst part. Spools of vine and leafy green pierced into lung tissue, stems squeezing through his rib cage.

You’ve been staring at him for too long. That sweet smile hasn’t wavered. Dabi clears his throat, first to dispel the awkwardness he feels and then again as a stray petal sticks to his throat. It brushes against his tonsils and he quickly covers his mouth.

“Sure you’re okay?” your voice is quiet, testing the waters.

A fingernail catches on a staple by his chin as his hand drags down his face, answering on an exhale, “Fine. Stop asking. Didn’t you say something about tea?”

“Can’t help it,” you huff, shutting the overhead cupboard with too much force. "You’re not a good liar, you know”.

Dabi gives a dismissive wave and heads over to the couch. The distance is barely four strides but he manages to unbuckle his belt, jeans unbuttoned and falling loose around his hips. Kicking them off with little to no grace, your eyes are heavy on his back as he pulls his shirt over his head and throws it at the laundry pile tucked away near your bathroom.

The quaint studio can barely house you, never mind him. Dabi was always small for his age but here it feels like he could stretch and touch every wall.

You’re moving in his periphery, following his lead and gradually revealing swaths of bare skin. You’ve seen him half naked before, in the clinic, but never the reverse. Dabi swallows thickly, ignoring the intimate atmosphere he unintentionally created. The kettle is electric and he takes comfort in the loud gurgling sound that comes with it, fixing his gaze on the blank TV screen.

“You can turn it on, you know. You are allowed,” you coaxed, voice warm and teasing. You’ve rummaged through the pile of clothes and found a hoodie that falls below your hips. “Or are you just going to sit there with your dick out?”

“You fucking wish,” he objected, reaching for the remote. Is it? His eyes fall to his lap. No, it isn’t.

He slouches, reclining into the cushions as some old rerun of Mighty Man plays. “Hey,” idly picking at a loose thread, he asks, “do you get many people come through with hanahaki?”

That gives you pause, and immediately he regrets asking. It’s hardly a common question. Hell, a good percentage of the population thought it to be an old wives tale, even in the wake of quirks. There was no plausible excuse as to why it would be on his mind.

Cautious in your approach, you stop by the couch with a steaming mug cradled in your hands. He sees those naked thighs, soft and uniquely yours. “Is… is that why you’ve been coughing?”

“No,” Dabi scoffs. In one forceful yank he rips the seam open and watches the foam innards spill out. You linger, weight shifting between your feet, and irritation prickles under his skin. “Who the hell do you think I would be chucking up flowers for? Not like I’ve got friends”.

Your shoulders lose tension and he tries not to think too hard about it; he doesn’t want to know. He feels his own airways clear at the sound of your laughter, “I dunno. Stain, maybe?”

Pursing his lips, he sucks back the copper from between his teeth, “Fuck you”. You try to smile. You pass his tea and he forgoes the handle. The warmth of the mug seemed to seep into his bones and ease the ache.

“Right right. Big bad villain. I forgot you’re supposed to be an empty husk without a heart,” you teased, sitting unnecessarily close and burying your feet beneath his thigh, careful not to touch his staples. The hoodie slips and pools around your hips. Dabi’s throat constricts as his body goes rigid. “Ah shit. Are my toes cold? Want me to grab a blanket?”

Forcing himself lax he clicks his tongue and tastes iron, grip tightening on his mug as he brings it to his lips. “Doesn’t matter. I run cold anyway”.

The tea is soothing. Sweet for a ginger tea— brown sugar, maybe. You must’ve boiled it for his sore throat. Molasses swirl on his tongue. They wash down the blood and clean his palette. A smooth, mellowed out aroma fills his senses and overpowers the delicate anise fragrance lingering at the back of his throat.

You concede, tucking your knees under your chin and regarding him with that look again. The one that feels as if you’re reading him like a page in a book. He has never been the type to worry about appearances but when it’s you he can’t help wondering what you think of him.

A cartoonish explosion fills the room with streams of orange and yellow as the episode comes to the halfway point. The light paints your silhouette gold, reflecting in your irises as they retract from the brightness.

Taking another gulp, he winced at the sharp twist in his chest. Two weeks was generous and Tereda knew it. He’s already vomiting full flowers. Corpses make for fertile soil, apparently. He read that somewhere online while he searched for information on morning glories; you are fast growing and frost tender.

A soft note breaks the silence and your toes start to wriggle. “I can hear you thinking. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Despite what you thought, he was a good liar. To those around him but most of all to himself. This is when he should retaliate with a biting comment and keep the equilibrium. He would, if not for the wave of heat that rolls through him at your words, and how obviously you felt it displace the air.

Dabi can lie. His body can not.

“Just that thing you said earlier, about being an empty husk,” he begins, bringing the warm mug to rest against his sternum, incognisant to the ring of heat stinging his skin.

Your expression wanes with regret and he hates it. “I was joking—”

“If you say sorry I’ll burn your couch to a crisp,” he fumes. Vulnerability made him defensive. Angry. It felt like cold air blowing on exposed muscle. “Didn’t ask for a meaningless apology”.

Deep in the cavity of his ribs another bud unfurls. Your patience with him is not endless but it is more than he deserves.

“Then what are you asking?”

Nausea curdled in his stomach. He feels it climb his gullet. “Guess I wondered what you really thought”.

“About…?”

He snarls, hackles raised. “Do I have to spell it out?”

A few beats pass. Your answer comes in a gentle murmur. “Well, our capacity to hate reflects our capacity to love. So, yeah. I do think you’ve got a pretty big heart. It’s just a bit bruised up”.

“Jesus,” he mutters. The worst part is you’re being entirely honest. His knees spread as his hips shift, the after credits begin to roll and reflect off the sutures around his thighs. It reminds him that he is half naked, literally and figuratively. “Forget I said anything. I need a smoke”.

“No smoking,” you bat lightly at his shoulder. “Not until you’re better. If I catch you I’ll kill you before that cough does”.

And isn’t that fucking hilarious.

Pressure prickles behind his eyes that he can never relieve. There’s a florid mass in his thoat; his pulse is thrumming now, singing in his ears. He needs to throw up.

You shout after him as he stumbles over toward your bathroom. He slams the door behind him, hears you curse as his ceramic mug hits the floor and breaks. This isn’t romance, or a fairytale. It isn’t like it is in the movies.

Lifting his fist, he brings it down hard on his sternum. The force barrels him over and he retches. Sour, viscous threads of saliva drip from his mouth into the toilet bowl, but nothing more comes up.

You’re banging at the walls. “Dabi, open up!”

Dabi lurches again, forcing a deep cough and watching a few small heart shaped petals dance in the air as they free fall. Again, collapsing to his knees, he can taste your ginger tea. He vomits a clump of bloomed morning glories, wrinkled and smooshed into a misshapen ball. Blood muddies the water.

Another knock, this one somewhat pitiful. There’s a soft noise that sounds like you’re sliding down the door. “Please don’t make me break this open. My landlord will kill me”.

Trembling. Dabi reaches his fingers into his mouth and feels around the teeth to dislodge what was left. Settling back on his feet, his hand uncurls like a slow sprouting shoot and reveals another morning glory in the shallow of his palm.

Colour streaks across his vision, filled with hazy undulations. White noise drowns out the frantic tone of your voice. Mouth hung open, Dabi inhales until his lungs bloat, and keeps it held until the lights begin to fade.

His consciousness tips from one dream to another. When he wakes up on his back surrounded by soft, freshly washed sheets. A sigh escapes his lips as he turns into the downy pillow beneath his head. It smells like you.

Fingers comb through his hair, pushing the bangs away from his forehead. It’s then that he notices the mattress dipped towards the weight of another.

Dabi squints, prying his eyes open. You’re laid beside him. At first he considers that he’s dreaming, but you feel so real. Your thumb strokes over his cheek in a tender back and forth motion, “You comfy?”

“Better than the couch,” he rasps. There’s an awful taste in his mouth. Intermingling mint and copper. “Did you brush my teeth or something?”

“I rinsed your mouth out,” you admit bashfully. Now that he’s looking he notices your eyes are red. Puffy like you’d been crying. Your smile fractured as you added, “I had to make sure nothing else was stuck”.

Realisation creeps in slowly. It’s gentle with him, like you are, acclimating him to reality. Just like that— you know.

“How’d you get me in here?” he deflects.

You prop yourself up on your elbow and reach to trace the topography of his scarred chest. His breathing stutters and your fingers stop right over his heart.

“Might’ve pulled a muscle or two but it wasn’t so hard. You weigh almost nothing,” you reply. Quiet, as though you were afraid to break the illusion. “Kinda concerning but it seems you have bigger stuff to worry about already, huh?”

Eyes falling closed, he inhales, counting to three. He replies on the end of a long exhale, “Didn't want you to know”.

“Tereda does?”

Dabi nods and the movement knocks his brain loose. He hisses at the throbbing pain. You take him into your palms with a frown, “You hit your head on the way down. You’ll have to come in with me again in the morning”.

“Fuck that,” he groans. You tap at his temple and pout your lips, glaring disapprovingly. “You can’t make me”.

“I can and I will,” his eyes widened at the crack in your voice. Tears gather along your lash line and you sniff harshly, “You could have died, Dabi. And now you might have a head injury. How the hell could you not tell—?!”

“Alright, alright. Shit,” uncharacteristic of him, Dabi let himself have this. His hand cups round your neck and brings you down into his bare chest. He hushes you softly, running his palm down the length of your spine, wrapping you in a clumsy embrace. “Don’t cry about it”.

You settle into the crook of his neck, nose bumping his jaw as you turn to speak, and he suppresses a shudder. “Don’t cry about it,” you repeat mockingly. “You really have no idea, do you?”

“Enlighten me”.

Frustration bursts, and you lift your head to look at him. You’re so close. “I care about you, idiot. I don’t want you dead on my bathroom floor! Sue me!”

Dabi cracks a crooked smile. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me”.

“Who is it?”

And he sours, his stare fixed on the ceiling above. “Does it matter?”

“It matters,” you lean over him until all he can see is you. “…Is it me?”

There’s an echo in his ribs; a phantom knife’s twist. Sure, Dabi is a good liar, he thinks. Touya never was. Touya wore his heart on his sleeve. He was terrible at concealing his hurt. Dabi tries to find the words and comes up short.

The silence is answer enough. Your mouth wobbles and you nestle back into his neck before he can see you cry in earnest. “You are so fucking stupid, Dabi”.

Despite the seriousness he laughs, tucks his nose to your crown and tightens his hold around your waist. He’s only ever imagined what your weight would feel like pressed against him like this. Maybe he’s imagining it, but his lungs are lighter.

“What did Doctor Tereda advise you to do?”

He pouts where you cannot see it. He doesn’t want to think about that quack right now. “She told me either I get the surgery and go to therapy, or I get the symptoms to calm down with therapy on its own”.

“Of course you’d…” you huff. “She didn’t tell you to talk to me?”

“That too,” he shrugs, grinning at the warning press of your teeth to his throat. It’s disturbing how comfortably you both fell into place. A soft kiss replaces your bite, and he holds his breath.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” you tell him, kisses trailing up his jugular to his cheek, unperturbed by the scar tissue and metal in his skin, or the tremors rumbling through his body. “I’m sure there’s no way in hell I can get you to agree to therapy. So instead I’m going to take you out on a few dates and see how your symptoms change”.

Dabi’s mouth opens for air and your lips brush, stealing his breath. “What the fuck?” he says. “Why?”

There’s no point, he wants to tell you. It won’t change a thing.

“Because I want you to believe me,” you murmur, nose knocking his own. Inexplicably drawn to you, Dabi tilts up to align your mouths again, barely a kiss. “If you die it won’t be because of me. And I atleast want you to go out knowing that I love you too”.

The swell in his throat is different this time. He has never been so glad about his inability to cry. Dabi grins, wide and all teeth, pushing the staples in his cheeks up by his eyes. “There’s something really wrong with you, you know that?”

“No kidding,” you laugh. “Guess we make a good pair”.

A Burnt Rose (Complete)

✿ You and Touya parted on bad terms. Six years later, he spots you visiting his father, a red-headed kid in tow. He’s determined to find out what you’ve been up to while he’s been gone.

Touya x Fem!Reader ✿ Single parent

Updated Tuesdays and Fridays, any times indicated are in PST

Overall themes of angst. If you’ve read any of my other work, angst with a happy ending is my usual MO. Warnings marked at the beginning of applicable chapters: violence, child loss, implied drug use

⁕ Chapter 0 (Prequel)

⁕ Chapter 1

⁕ Chapter 2

⁕ Chapter 3

⁕ Chapter 4

⁕ Chapter 4.5

⁕ Chapter 5

⁕ Chapter 6

⁕ Chapter 7

⁕ Chapter 8

⁕ Chapter 9

⁕ Chapter 10

⁕ Chapter 11 (Epilogue)

Tag list: @mmmochi-art @jems-all-in-a-wood @boosyboo9206 @dani-d0rk @kunaigirlx44 @myriadis @northsideprincess @cutiebear45 @prettypuppy1563 @fandomsgotmefucked @txixy @whore-for-anime @isabel2you @haitanihime @callmelucas @askerror87 @devilsbooksworld @mikasackrmann @xnorthstar3x @undefined--person @bubblegum-bee-otch @h0wab0utw3d0ntd0that @eijis-stuff @cinnamon-n-roses @theequeenofcurses @bananasquash @aizawasfemdom @cascade-away @dabi-sunflower

My Brat

Dabi x Male!Reader Summary: Dabi is quite the brat. During a mission, he did not listen to Y/N’s commands towards the team and he is not happy with Dabi’s defiance. After ignoring Dabi for weeks, he finally owns up to his actions.

★☽A/N: My friend kinda(?) begged me to make a male ! I’m still shocked that the first one got 87+ notes… You guys are real freaky! But so am I for writing it-

Contents: SMUT - Dom|Top Male!Reader - Sub|Bottom Dabi - Brat Taming; Hair Pulling; Pain and Pleasure Play; Degradation; Praise; Forced Orgasm / Orgasm Control; Overstimulation; Impact Play

—

This fucking brat..

Y/N thought as he watched Dabi run away before everyone was there. He sighed in frustration while the members of the Vanguard Group watched in confusion. “Did he just..?-” Y/N turned around. “Yes, he did.” He groaned. At a defeated state, he signaled the others to follow along.

Guessed he had to improvise some of the plan..

! ~

Y/N was just grateful they managed to kidnap the boy. The angry blonde still passed out. The LOV guessed that it would take a while for the shock and drugs to wear off. While Shigaraki thought of how to convince the young hero in training to join, Toga decided to play with Magne while watching the news.

Dabi decided to do a small celebration, asking Kurogiri to pour him a glass of wine, the best they got. Kurogiri, ever the obedient man, poured a tall glass with transparent wine, bubbles coming to the top. He slides it to him, Dabi catching it swiftly.

Before he could take a sip, a soft hand reached down and grabbed his glass. “Hey-” He stopped when he noticed Y/N behind him, holding his glass. With a swift move, he drank all of the liquid in seconds, placing the glass down gently.

“I wanted to drink that.” Y/N looked down at him, a chilling shiver going down his spine by how intense his stare was. “Is that so?” His voice was stern and deep, raising a brow as his statement.

“Yeah, it was to celebrate today.” Dabi’s snarky and cocky statement made Y/N chuckle. Another shiver went down Dabi’s spine once more. He hated how Y/N’s voice could easily send shivers down his spine. “Then it should be mine. After all, I was the one who made the plan.”

“And I’m the one who got the boy.” Y/N chuckled at his prideful response. “I’m pretty sure Mr. Compress got him. You just prevented the boy’s friends from saving him.” He grinned. Dabi growled at the harsh truth. Y/N leaned forward, a smug look on his face.

His hand slowly trailed up to Dabi’s hair, gently stroking his locs. Dabi unconsciously leaned into his gentle touch, a slight blush apparent on his face. Without a word, Y/N pulled harshly on his hair, causing a grunt from the burnt man.

“What the fuck?!” He yelled out, causing Toga and Magne to turn around with curious glances but turned back around, minding their own business. “Why the fuck are you-” Y/N cut him off with an aggressive kiss. It was messy and sloppy, Dabi arching back as Y/N loomed over him. His hand had the same tight grip on his hair, causing a sense of pain through his body.

He tried to push Y/N back but his tight grip on his hand and his other slowly sneaking to his waist prevented him. Dabi couldn’t stop himself from leaning towards Y/N’s hot touch. He could feel the H/C’s smirk against his lips. The raven head wanted to protest but the H/C head’s hot touch made him melt.

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” Y/N smiled a gentle smile, stroking his soft cheek. He nodded eagerly, leaning towards the touch and the soft whispered voice. “Fuck off…” he mumbled, a slight blush on his face.

Y/N chuckled, loving how bratty Dabi was. It was funny to see the villain act all bratty, knowing what is to come to the ravenhead.

“Could I go ahead and take him?” He turned to Kurogiri who nodded in response. He nodded back and grabbed Dabi, putting him over his shoulder. “Oi! Get me down!” Dabi protested but to no avail. Y/N didn’t answer, only a smirk on his face as he carried him to their shared room.

! ~

In the League of Villains’ base, each member had their own room, even if they had one of their own, there was always room for them. As for Y/N and Dabi, they have a shared room. The room was big to accommodate the two villains.

Y/N dropped Dabi on the bed, causing him to bounce on the springed mattress. “Ouch! What the fuck?!” Dabi cursed, an irk appearing. Y/N just chuckled. He enjoyed watching Dabi acting like a bat, despite being annoyed by his attitude multiple times. At this point, he might have gotten used to it.

The H/C haired villain smiled at his bratty attitude. He was ever so close to just ripping his clothes and lift his legs while he fucked Dabi dry.

But he didn’t.

He lifted Dabi’s legs as he took off the raven haired male’s pants, ignoring his yells of protest, taking off his jacket shortly after. Y/N didn’t really care if the villain decided to keep his shirt on, knowing how sweaty he will be after. He leaned forward with a smirk. Y/N slowly moved his hand down, from his neck and to his hips. He could feel the shivers going down the burnt man’s spine. It was satisfying to see Dabi trying to keep his composer.

But he knew it wouldn’t last long.

“Such a brat, hm?” Dabi growled. He hated being called a brat, he hated how his body reacts to such a degrading pet name! He wanted to protest but Y/N’s warmth made his mind so mushy.. He hated it so much! But he couldn’t stop his body from reacting, leaning towards Y/N’s gentle and feathery touch.

Y/N chuckled at Dabi’s body’s reaction. “And so dirty..” he commented, his hand rubbing Dabi’s hip affectionately. He wanted Dabi to melt into his hands, only to moan and yell out in pleasure while he fucked him to submission. He couldn’t resist giving Dabi a light tap. It wasn’t heavy, just enough to get a reaction.

And a reaction he received. Dabi arched his back, allowing Y/N access to his ass. Y/N hastily placed his hand on Dabi’s cheek, catching him off guard. “Y/N! What the fuck are you?-” Y/N pressed a kiss against the villain’s lips, shutting him real quick.

Y/N had shivers down his spine as he swallowed all of Dabi’s faint moans, leaning closer to the kiss. Despite having his bottom face burned, his lips were soft. Rough– but smooth, so kissable. He enjoyed all of his kisses with Dabi, enjoying how Dabi writhe beneath him.

He backed away from the kiss, looking at the panting Dabi. “Fuck you…” Y/N chuckled at his curses. The H/C knew it was… like his love language, the only way he could communicate his feelings. Of course, he knew it would change after a few touches soon.

! ~

“You’re so cute, Touya..” Y/N grinned, watching as Dabi twitched and squirmed beneath him, sweat beads trailing down his sensitive body. His chest heaved heavily, trying to keep up with Y/N’s pace. “Y-You’re a fucking beast..” Touya managed to say between breaths. Y/N snickered. He enjoyed watching the villain writhe underneath him, he knew how quick he would melt under his gentle and warm touch.

“You want more?” Dabi gasped, feeling Y/N’s fingers curled in his entrance. He bit his tongue, not wanting to let out any sounds. The base didn’t have the best walls, making it difficult for him to make all the sounds he wanted. The H/C noticed his suppression and laughed again. He didn’t know why he was laughing and finding things humorous lately.

Perhaps it was because of his lover?

He shrugged to himself, causing a raised brow from Dabi. Y/N shook his head, getting his head back to their situation. He looked down and noticed how Touya was clenching on his fingers, making him grin a mischievous grin.

“Oh?” He raised a brow, his cocky and mischievous grin visible. Touya just huffed, looking away which was something Y/N did not like. He grabbed Dabi’s chin harshly with his free hand and forced him to look at him. “Touya. Look at me.” Dabi immediately received a shiver down his spine.

He was so desperate to thrust his hips up, but Y/N’s glare prevented him from doing so. His eyes were fully on Y/N’s. Watching his eyebrows furrow and his eyes squinted in annoyance. “Ignoring me, hm?” He shook his head, rolling his eyes.

Seeing Dabi’s bratty attitude, he curled his fingers just right. The tip of his index finger grazed on Dabi’s prostate, causing him to arch his back in shock, gasping. “Such a brat,” he spat, pushing his fingers further in and curling them to press brutally on his prostate.

The ravenhead immediately let out a high-pitched moan, his back arching and his hips thrusting up along with his back. His eyes slowly rolled to the back of his head, feeling a spark shot up his body.

He could hear Y/N’s taunting chuckles, enjoying his reaction. He looked down, trying to look intimidating. But his glossy eyes weren't much help. He was one of the best villains, a notorious one! But he melts at just a soft touch from his partner. And he hated it. He hated being vulnerable. He didn’t want to admit that he loves every single soft warm touch he receives from his lover.

He didn’t want to admit that he loves getting punished, being a brat and receiving his punishment was thrilling to him. It was like the thrill of not getting caught by heroes with just a hair, however the feeling was much greater than the thrill of not getting caught.

He loved it in a way.

“I think you're ready.” Dabi’s attention turned back to Y/N who had taken his fingers out of his ass and started to buckle his belt open. His eyes immediately widened.

“Really?” he asked in a hushed tone, his voice a bit hoarse. Y/N raised a brow at his question. “Of course, unless.. You don’t want it? Cause if so-” Dabi immediately shook his head. Touya didn’t want him to stop! He was already this far in so why not finish with it?

“Just… Get it over with.” He growled softly at the sight of Y/N taunting smirk. “Beg, love.” Touya huffed deeply.

He didn’t want to beg! Why should he beg?

But seeing how he was so close to getting what he wanted, seeing the tent growing on Y/N’s boxers.. His body couldn’t stop the shiver from going down his spine.

“-ease..” Y/N hummed in confusion. “Hm?” He tilted his head to the side. Dabi groaned a bit in embarrassment. ‘Fuck…’ Touya thought to himself. He hesitated when he said, “please… sir..” And the moment he said that, Y/N smiled. A genuine and soft smile, not one of his taunting and annoying smirks.

“Such a good boy, hm?” Touya whimpered slightly at the praise. He enjoyed praise, more than he would admit it. He loved how he would feel himself getting so close just by praise. “Good boy” ; “sweet boy” ; “baby” were pet names that he could never ignore.

He knew he was slowly losing it.

!~

“C’mon, you can take it. Be a good boy for me.” Touya whimpered, feeling Y/N’s cock pulse inside of him. He could feel Y/N getting bigger by the second and he was desperate for a release. “Too– much!” he managed to choke out. Y/N only smiled, feigning to touch his cock. “You can take it.” Touya shook his head profusely, not wanting anything more.

But he never said stop.

Y/N grabbed Touya’s bruised hips tightly and put all in his strength to fuck the brains out of Touya. He choked on his own saliva as he felt Y/N’s powerful thrusts, feeling his tip hit his prostate flawlessly. “F-Fuck!” he cursed, throwing his head back. He bit his bottom lip, causing his lip to die a crimson red, a color familiar to him.

“You wanna come, don’t you?” Touya nodded, his eyes closed but his mouth agape, breathing heavily. “Then stop being a brat.” Y/N thrust his hips right against Touya, knocking the air out of his lungs. He gasped, feeling his climax climbing. His cock was red and throbbing, begging for release.

He lowers his head, just enough to look at Y/N. The H/C's eyes are closed and his brows furrowed. His hips continued to move hard, sending shocks through the black-haired male.

The villain could feel a knot tightening in his stomach by the second, his climax reaching its limit. He was ready to explode, but Y/N’s thumb on his cock’s slit caused him to dry-orgasmed several times, feeling overstimulated and wanting more.

“Pl-Plea– se! F..Fu-Fuck!!” he managed to choke out. Y/N’s thrusts slowly became sloppier by each “uh” from Touya’s mouth. He could feel his cock twitch in anticipation for his climax release. He grabbed Y/N’s body closer to his, his nails clawing at Y/N’s back– creating marks along his back– marking him as did Y/N did on him.

Feeling his climax reaching its peak, he thrusted his hips all the way in, causing Touya to arch his back. His eyes rolled back and his mouth was agape, drooling as he let out a loud moan. Touya’s cock twitched one last time before squirting his semen all over his stomach– some even reached his face. Y/N released all his cum inside of Touya, filling him to the brim.

He breathed heavily as he came from his high. He reached over to Touya’s cock and slowly stroked it, allowing Touya to get through his own high. Touya whimpered at the touch and looked down at Y/N who lazily stroked it.

“Y..You bastard…” Y/N looked up with a smirk and a snicker, leaning forward to give a peck on his sweaty forehead.

"I know." —