Toya Todoroki - Blog Posts

Dabi is an upside down smiler but not in a normal way or in a 'im going to pretend to do it for whatever reason' way, its in a 'if I smile normally my face will probably fall off.' way.

Dabi Wallpaper Phone 💙🖤🤍

I'm going to need Toya cussing out Enji while he's in rehab, yeah thanks.

School: you can't have died hair

Toya: okay, whatever.

*when school starts* (his hair is still dyed at the ends)

School: we told you you can't have your hair dyed.

Toya: ..I know. Its permanent, you have to wait until it fades out.

School: no. We can't allow that. We need it out by tomorrow.

Toya: ?? It's permanent,,,

School: you can't just dye it white or something, at least?

Toya: it's black?!??! No?!?

School: well, if you don't, we can't allow you to go to school here.

Toya: ?????

*Endeavor then yelled at him more for dying his hair and went on a lecture about it.*

A little Dabi x Reader thing for my thoughts from earlier.

MDNI

Kids are a complicated thing for him, in all honesty. He was the result of a man who had married his wife for the sole purpose of having children so that he could prove that he was better than everyone else. He watched his mother go through pregnancy three more times after him, and saw what that did to her. To everyone. Especially when his bastard of a father deemed each one of them a failure and demanded another.

He is also afraid. Afraid that his child will end up with a quirk like his, one that is so horribly powerful that it hurts to use, and could kill the child. He's afraid that he's more like his father than he wants to be, and he thinks for the longest time that he'd rather castrate himself than do that to another person.

As he starts to realize his wants and needs both in bed and in a relationship in general, however, he realizes that he wants to stuff his partner so full of cum that there was no avoiding the inevitable despite protection. He wants to get her pregnant. He wants to breed.

It makes him sick, for a long time. Even once he's found you, his everything, he refuses to bring it up. He keeps the disgusting thoughts to himself lest he end up pressuring you like Endeavor pressured his mother.

He's still not sure whether you said something first, or if he was just so drunk on the high of fucking you that he just blurts it out, but suddenly you're wrapping your legs around his waist, hooking your ankles together to keep him buried in your pussy, and you beg him for it. For him to cum inside, to stuff you full of his seed so you can give him a child consequences be damned.

And when those two little pink lines appear on the test a few weeks later, he decides that even if his plans end up with him getting himself killed instead of his father, the most fucked up thing he could do was make sure he left something of himself behind to finish the fucking job.

Dabi x Reader Oneshot

I was gonna put this on ao3 but I decided you all can have it instead.

Dabi tries to break up with you.

Loving someone like him wasn’t easy, he was a man of contradictions. He could be cagey and distant one day, clingy and obsessive another. There were days he’d say barely two words to you, and days he’d talk until his throat couldn’t take any more. But there was at least one thing that he was consistent on: 

Dabi didn’t lie.

If you asked him something he couldn’t-or just didn’t want-to answer, he’d either stay silent, or tell you that it wasn’t your business. Things like that included his work with the League, and his identity or past. Even if you pushed him on it, he’d clamp his jaw shut and turn away from you. You’d asked him once, why he didn’t just tell you something, even if it wasn’t true. You’d reminded him that it wasn’t like you’d know if he was lying, so what was the harm? 

“I don’t like liars,” Is all he’d said, and you’d had no choice but to accept it. You appreciated his truthfulness, knowing well just how easy it was for a man to lie to you just to keep in your good graces. Dabi was not afraid of telling you the truth, even if it hurt or made you angry. 

And that’s what makes tonight so strange. 

There was something in the way he stood, stiff yet overly relaxed, that clued you into something not being quite right. Then he refused to look you in the eye, which was definitely strange for him. He may not always look at you directly while speaking, but he was never the type to go to any great length to avoid your gaze. And tonight, his eyes were everywhere but on you, no matter how hard you tried to meet them. And on top of all that, nothing he was saying even made sense to you. 

He’d lived in your home, eaten your food, given you any and everything he could, told you over and over again for the last year that he loved you. And now he was breaking up with you? 

No, something was wrong here. Very, very wrong. 

“Dabi,” You say his name slowly, carefully. “Can you just…tell me what’s going on?”

“I am telling you,” He says, tone far too strained to be natural. 

“Not…not really.” 

“It’s just not working.”

“What isn’t working?” 

“Us.” 

“What about us?” 

He lets out a hard sigh, your name mumbled from his lips. His eyes flit to yours for the barest second before they find the far wall again. 

“We don’t fit,” He says, and for the first time in this entire conversation, he sounds honest. 

“Says who?” You ask with a careful step forward. You reach out to touch him, hands gently grazing the front of his shirt before resting on his chest, soaking in his warmth through your fingertips. He doesn’t flinch at your touch, doesn’t lean away. If anything, he presses himself closer, his body much more truthful than his words.

“Says everyone.” 

You frown, pushing yourself closer by just another step. Your hands slide up his chest to caress his face, forcing him with gentle hands to look at you. He looks like he’s in pain. 

“Dabi,” You say his name again, catching how he subtly flinches at the sound of it. “My love-” 

He rips away from you, shoving you hard backwards in the process. It’s such a sudden action that you’re unable to catch yourself before tumbling to the ground, hissing in pain when your ankle twists the wrong way. Traitorous tears fill your eyes and threaten to fall from your lashes as you look up at him from your new spot on the ground. The way he looks back at you can only be described as abject horror. 

“No-fuck-I-” He vacillates between reaching for you and backing further away, unsure of what to do with himself now. “Shit.” 

His breathing is coming hard, eyes blown wide. One hand digs into his hair, pulling at his scalp, the other scratching at the staples in his face, almost like he was trying to tear them out. Your breath catches in your throat when you realize that he’s having a panic attack. 

You say his name, but he doesn’t hear you. His eyes are unfocused, his chest heaving. He manages to stumble back one more step before hitting the far wall and going still. You take that as your chance to move, scrambling up and limping over to him slowly, hands outstretched to take hold of him as soon as he’s within distance. When the first drops of blood hit your floor, you move faster, launching yourself forward heedless of how badly your ankle hurts. 

“Hey, hey,” You keep your voice low, grabbing at his wrists and trying to pull them away from his hair and face. He’s shaking, even harder than the days when he stumbles home overheated and overtired. He’s looking at you, but you aren’t sure he’s really seeing you. 

You coax him into sitting on the floor with you, letting him stay with his back pressed into the wall while you knelt in front of him. You’ve managed to pry his hands away from their self-destructive task and now hold them close, pressing them gently against your own chest so that he can feel your heartbeat and steadier breathing. 

“I’m okay,” You murmur softly, trying to keep your face neutral at the sight of his bloodied face. He’d managed to get a few staples out, causing new wounds in the process. “It’s going to be okay.” 

You wrack your brain for what to do now. There was no promise that this pause in self harm wouldn’t start back up at the wrong word or movement. Dabi was stronger than you, if he wanted to pull away from you and dig his fingers into his skin until he bled all over, he very well could, and though you’d resist, he’d definitely win that fight. There had to be something you could do, something that would shake him out of his fog just enough for you to bring him back to reality, without making it worse than it already was. 

“Do you think All Might would win in a fight against a mantis shrimp?” You blurt, surprising you both. Dabi looks at you, blinking slowly.

“I mean,” You continue. “Mantis shrimps can punch super hard, right? Like they can really fuck someone up despite being so little. But since All Might is also, like, the strongest in the world, would that make it a fair fight?” 

The corner of his lips turns upwards, light slowly returning to his eyes, and you just keep going. 

“They have to be in special cases when in captivity, cause otherwise they’ll break out. Did you know that they can punch so fast that they boil the water around them? And they do this totally naturally. They evolved to be able to do that. What kind of predators do these things have?” 

“All Might…” His voice is hoarse. “Apparently.”

You grin at him, snickering a little. He lets out a huff of air, something similar to a laugh but not quite. 

“The shrimp would win,” He says.

“Oh, one hundred percent.” Now you’re both laughing, really, properly laughing. His shoulders hunch, head dropped down, but his torso shakes with his amusement nonetheless. 

You take a breath, calming yourself a bit and observing your partner. His breathing was still a bit labored, and his eyes still had a faraway look to them, but he seemed to be back in the here and now, at least for the moment. Whatever had triggered his episode, whether it had been the argument, him pushing you over, or both, seems to have floated from his mind momentarily. You had no doubt you’d need to be prepared to talk him through it all once he was back to being fully himself. 

For a moment, you think you see who he could have been, if whatever had happened to him hadn’t happened. You could imagine him with brighter eyes, a bigger grin not suppressed by scars and staples. He was already perfect to you, but your heart ached for him. For the him that was lost to his past. 

“I love you,” You say. 

He looks at you for a long moment, his laughter dead in his chest. He pulls one hand away from your chest, and lifts it to caress your face. His thumb runs a soothing line along your cheekbone, twitching a bit when he spots the drying blood he’s accidentally rubbing into your skin. 

“I know,” He mumbles.

You want to crack a joke at him, but it doesn’t come out. Instead, the tears return, this time spilling over your lashes and soaking your face. There was such a finality in his tone, one that made you think that maybe this was all real, that he wasn’t lying, and he really was going to leave and never come back. You can feel your heart shattering with every second he doesn’t say anything else, with every second he just holds you in his hand and watches you cry. 

He couldn’t do this to you, not after all the endless nights and early mornings. Not after all the hours spent with his body connected to yours, branding you from the inside as his. He couldn’t just break you after he’d finally put you back together. 

You push his hand away and wipe at your eyes, trying your hardest to control your breathing and calm down. You had to finish this conversation calmly, you had to make sure he was okay. It felt horribly selfish to sob like this after he’d just been the one in a full blown panic attack. You needed to stop, to stifle your emotions until he left so that his last memory of you wasn’t this. 

“Are you…are you okay, now?” You ask with a shaky voice. This was probably the calmest you were going to be at the moment. 

“Yeah, baby, I’m good,” He says.

The world feels like it’s tilted sideways, nothing going the way you wanted it to. You were supposed to be having dinner, curled on your couch next to the man you adored more than you ever thought you could. He’s supposed to have an arm draped around you, not quite holding you but still keeping you close to him. There is supposed to be a shitty movie playing on the TV that the two of you make fun of together between idle kisses and steamy touches. It wasn’t fair.

“I love you,” You can’t stop yourself. “So much.” . 

“I know, baby,” He repeats his own words, reaching to brush hair from your tear-soaked face. He looks like he wants to say something else, but his jaw clenches, silencing himself before he lets whatever it is spill from his lips. 

So the two of you sit on the floor of your apartment in heavy silence. 

Your ankle throbs under you, reminding you of the tumble you’d taken just a moment ago. That seemed to be what had set him off, the more you think about it. He’d been calm when informing you that he was leaving you, and even when you argued with him about it. But it had been when he pushed you, and you got hurt, that he’d crumpled. 

“I’m sorry for upsetting you,” You manage to mumble. 

“You didn’t,” He says just as softly, and you know from the look on his face that he’s not talking about his panic attack. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Can you just make something up?” You know you sound pathetic, pleading with him like this, but you can’t help it. “Please, I don’t care if it’s something stupid. I just…I need to know that you have a reason for leaving. Something I can be mad about so this doesn’t hurt so much!” 

He sighs your name with a shake of his head. 

“I can’t.”

“Hah…” You shift and stand, trying not to put too much weight on your injured foot. “What was it you were saying to me earlier? That we don’t fit? Is that really what you want to stick with? What you want me to remember?” 

“What do you want me to say?” He asks, standing now as well. 

“Anything!” You yell, throwing your hands in the air. 

“Like what?!” He yells back, taking a step towards you, invading your space. 

“Tell me that I’m annoying! Tell me that I talk too much, or that I’m messy, or stupid! Lie to me! Or be honest and tell me that you don’t love me!” 

You think he’s stopped breathing, you’ve never seen him so still. It feels like standing in a silent forest, horrible and unnatural and frightening. 

“Is that…what you think?” His voice is low, almost deadly. “You seriously think. That I’m doing this because I don’t love you?” 

“Unless you tell me otherwise, then-”

“Are you stupid?” 

The sudden, vicious anger in his words startles you, all words dying on your tongue as you just stare at him in surprise, your own frustration burning through your body. What gave him the right to sound like that when he was the one who started all this? 

You start to say his name, but one of his hands flies up to cover your mouth, just like he’d done when you’d babbled at him on the first night you met. 

“I’m doing this because I love you. Because being with me is dangerous for you, and I can’t fucking sleep at night anymore thinking about what could happen if someone finds out about you. It’s bad enough that heroes have been sniffing around this neighborhood recently, but if another villain gets their hands on you? Because of me?”

With his hand over your mouth, you can’t say anything. Though, even if you were free to, you’re not sure how you’d even respond to him at all. 

“You make me want to give up on everything. And I swear, if you asked, I’d do it. I’d give up on the revenge that I rightfully fucking deserve just to make you happy, because I can’t stand the idea that what I do could make you miserable.” 

His breathing is hard and angry, eyes wide and wild, and yet not for a single moment do you worry that he could hurt you. He’d scared you for a moment, sure, but now that you were really processing his words, you realize you had no reason to feel that way. He wasn’t angry with you. He hasn’t been this whole time. 

You lift your hands to gently take hold of his wrist, tugging on him to signal that you wanted to speak. His eyes narrow at you, but he allows his palm to be pried from your mouth, and moved to press into your cheek. You make him stand like that for a long time, letting yourself just digest everything he’s said. 

There were a hundred and one things you could say in response to him, but none of them really felt right. Telling him you loved him wouldn’t do much, telling him you understood would be a lie. Allowing him to leave was a big no-go, but brushing this all under the rug felt even worse. When you finally settle on what to say, you’re careful to do it slowly.

“You know…I don’t know that much about you,” You say. “I don’t know why your revenge is so important, I don’t know what kind of people you deal with or have made angry that might try to hurt me. And I don’t know why you pushing me over sent you so over the edge.” 

You look up at him, letting go of his wrist in favor of reaching for his face, to caress it the way he stayed caressing yours. 

“But, I still want you here. I want to love and be loved by you, regardless of if it means that I have to be a little extra vigilant. I don’t care if I have to practice what to say if a hero comes to the door, I don’t care if I have to be ready to jump out the window with you because you need to run and you don’t want to leave me behind. You being a villain, and having enemies, all that doesn’t matter to me. What matters is that you come home at night, that you remember things about me when I tell them to you, even in passing, and that you’re alive. You don’t even have to be safe, if you can’t promise that. Just come home with enough pieces that I can put you back together.” 

He huffs, pulling away but not too far, and covers his face. His shoulders shake and it takes you a moment to realize he’s laughing at you. Your face flushes, a touch of embarrassment making you anxious and antsy. 

Then, he mumbles something. 

“Wh-what?” You ask.

“I can’t cry,” His voice is soft, muffled by his hands but now just loud enough to hear. 

“Huh…?” 

“My face is too fucked up.” 

“Your face isn’t…it’s not-” 

“Baby,” He drops his hands, looking at you with tired eyes and a lopsided grin. “I know what I look like.” 

You let his self deprecating comment slide, just this once. 

“Do you want to cry?” You ask, instead. 

“Right now? A little bit.” 

You pull him impossibly close, one arm around his neck, hand petting the back of his head, the other up under his arm to grip his shoulder from behind. He buries his face into your neck, arms wrapping around you as tightly as he could without hurting you, and the two of you just stand like that for a while. 

You hiss involuntarily when he leans on you a little too hard, your ankle protesting the extra weight. The sound has him jerking away, eyes wide and full of worry. His expression was so foreign to you it was almost laughable. But it was honest, that much you knew. 

“I’m okay,” You say. “I think I rolled my ankle when I fell-” 

“Fuck, baby, I-” He cuts himself off, taking a breath before continuing. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

“I know,” You say. 

“Let me look at it.” 

You let him lead you to the couch and sit you down, kneeling at your feet so that he can take the injured one into his hands. He bends and twists it slowly, gauging your reactions, muttering soft apologies every time you wince or let out a pained noise. 

“Should ice it,” He says. “Prop it up, don’t use it for a couple days.”

“Yes sir,” You can’t stop yourself from teasing him a bit, grinning ear to ear when he levels you with a dangerous look. 

“Watch it, baby. I just narrowly avoided losing you. I’m wound up enough.” 

“Oh?” You lean forward a bit. “I think we’re both a little wound up.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mhm.”

“Good.”

He gathers you in his arms and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you squealing and laughing into the bedroom, where he dumps you on the mattress and follows quickly after. He spends the rest of the night kissing you all over, hands refamiliarizing themselves with your body. His teeth leave marks along your shoulder and chest, and the wall ends up with a burn mark from him getting a little too excited. 

This was how things should be.

-

He’s always awake before you, but this was the first time he really laid here like this, looking at you. He watched as the first rays of sunlight stream through the tiny gap in the curtains, illuminating your face in a way he’s sure he’s never seen before. He traces a finger along your features, smiling a bit to himself when your eyebrows furrow, but you don’t wake. 

He, admittedly, feels bad for taking you to bed and being so rough when you were already hurt. He also never explained to you why him hurting you affected him so. To be fair, he hadn’t realized that something like that could bother him. Not after all the people he’d hurt and killed over the past several years. 

But seeing you on the floor, because of him? Hurt by his hands? It had made him feel disgusting, like a monster. It was that moment that he realized that he really was as bad as he’d told himself he was. That everyone told him he was. Everyone but you, that is. 

It cemented in him that his revenge couldn’t be put on hold, because if anyone took you away, it would be his father.

“You have no idea,” He whispers to your sleeping form. “What I’d do for you.” 

You let out a soft, sleepy hum. His first sign that you were really starting to wake up.

“Do you even realize what I would do to this fucking country if I lost you?” He keeps his voice low. “There wouldn’t be anything left. I’d burn it. Do you understand? I’d burn the whole fucking world to ashes, and no one would be able to stop me.”

“Promise?” One eye cracks open, and he’s honestly not sure you actually heart the whole of what he’s said, nor does he think you understood in your mostly-asleep state. 

“Cross my heart, baby.” 

You sigh, giving him another happy, sleepy little hum, and snuggle closer to him. 

“I love you,” He murmurs, kissing the top of your head. 

“Mm…I know.”

Touya Todoroki has a breeding kink and literally no one can change my mind thank you goodbye

Beginning Nights now on AO3

Dabi x Reader MDNI

Enjoy the preview:

God this sucks. You were cold, wet, and miserable, but as your gaze catches another lonely soul making his own march in the rain, you’re at least glad you’re not the only one. All you can see is the back of him, but he gives you something new to look at. 

He’s tall, even with his shoulders hunched, head dipped down to keep the rain from falling off the hood covering his hair and getting all in his face. His coat looked tattered, but serviceable, and there was no way in hell his socks weren’t as wet as yours were, even with the thick boots he wore. Something about him stirs your heart, even if you can’t see his face, or any of his features. You wonder if it’s just your own want to not be alone anymore today that has you speeding up a little, hoping to catch the only other figure walking the rainy streets. 

As you get closer, a part of you warns that this person could be a villain. That he could hurt or kill you for getting too close to him. But another part of you just doesn’t care. After the day you’ve had, death would just be a welcome change. At least then you’d get to either go to the afterlife, or start over fresh, rather than be stuck in misery. Besides, even villains have shitty days, and maybe you’ll get lucky and he won’t mind you bothering him for a few minutes. 

His eyes are on you the moment you finally catch up to him, sharp blue irises somehow both icy and burning all at once. You don’t say anything, trying instead to look as casual as possible, instead of like a crazy person who’d just chased him down just for a modicum of company. But the longer you’re silent, the harder it gets to even try to speak up. Especially now that you can actually sort of see him, and the recognition that settles in your gut has your tongue too heavy to move. 

All you really needed to see was the flash of metal and the scarring on his jaw to know who he was. You’d seen him all over the news for weeks, the image of his wild and wicked face had been burned into your memory by now. But for such a notorious villain, Dabi seemed…

Tired.

A soft thing for Dabi

It's in the quiet of night, so late that neither of you should be awake, that the words escape you.

"It wasn't your fault."

They're whispered, so softly that you don't even realize you spoke them aloud until his head lifts from your chest to look at you with tired, confused eyes.

"Hm?" He nuzzles his nose into your chin, peppering soft kisses into your haw.

"It's nothing," You say softly. He takes your words at face value, or at least he seems to. Whether it's because he's not fully awake, or because he just trusts you that much, you'll never be sure. He just lays his head back down, resting his head against your chest once again.

What would he think, if you told him exactly what you were thinking? What would he think, if you told him that everything that's happened to him to make him the way he is now wasn't his fault? That it wasn't his choice to be born, to have a father like Endeavor who treated him so poorly he snapped at such a young age. That there had been no reason for him to burn himself alive over and over again just to prove a point that never should have needed to be made in the first place.

It wasn't his fault. He'd been a child. He never should have had to endure any of it.

But, like always, you keep your mouth shut. You hold him tighter, kiss his head, and whisper that you love him.

Forgot to post this here ermm...

When you're at the Denial Stage of a fic idea but the meet cute keeps replaying in your head

AU, в котором ты и Даби лучшие друзья. Вы подкалываете друг друга, издеваетесь и обзываетесь, однако, вы оба так показываете свою любовь и привязанность.

·》𓃑𓃑 •|≡≡≡°×★×°≡≡≡|• 𓃑𓃑《·

Мне было нехуй делать. Извините

Арт в конце не мой

evergreen

𖤓 touya todoroki smau series

it's been five years since touya stepped foot onto these campgrounds. he's older now, and maybe a little bit more mature, but the woods are just as loud and the summer nights are just as hot. you're here too, and it feels like he's seventeen again, but this time, there's nowhere to run from his feelings.

𖤓 childhood friends x lovers

𖤓 cw + notables: alcohol, weed, cussing, crude language, potential suggestiveness, tomfoolery, no y/n face claims, g/n reader, time stamps are irrelevant, will include written parts

𖤓 on going

i. meet the counselors ii. meet the campers part iii. part iv. part v.

Sleazy

Dabi x F!Reader smut

Warnings: +18 MINORS DNI! Nonconish/dubcon, blackmail, gaslighting, manhandling, Stockholm syndrome, smut, penetration, biting, bruises, creampie

Synopsis: Dabi blackmails you, a sidekick of a famous pro-hero, into a relationship, which in his terms mean that whenever he texts you time and place for a fuck, you obey no questions asked

Word count: 2.4k

DISCLAIMER: Characters belong to Kohei Horikoshi

Shame is unavoidable when crossing the border into the city’s seedy underbelly. With a hood over your head to shield yourself from the rain and more importantly, prying eyes, you sneak to the reception of a rundown motel. As you mumble awkwardly that you’re in need of a room, the sour receptionist hands you the key and out of pure embarrassment, you grab it without another word. Going upstairs to search for the room, you wanna convince yourself that the employees must witness worse secrets than what yours is. 

You spend the rainy evening standing by the window, waiting, and staring at the neon signs flashing outside, their lights reflecting from the puddles on the ground. Brows furrowing, you sigh heavily as despite your agreement, Dabi is once again late.

Because of him, you had to make up another excuse for your boss of why you needed to leave early again, but since your working time ended a while ago, it was all in vain. You are running out of good reasons and using the last proper ones for nothing is beyond frustrating. 

Dabi’s carelessness towards you isn’t anything new though. He doesn’t mind causing you inconveniences or even serious troubles since he sees you as mere entertainment. 

Draping an arm over your belly, you begin to pace back and forth nervously and bite your nails, wishing you could come up with a plan how to get out of this. 

His mean schemes have been messing up your life for months. You’re constantly under pressure to manage hero-work and close relationships without anyone finding out the dark deal he blackmailed you into. Your sleepless nights have become countless in numbers and your heart pounds whenever his name pops into your screen. 

Suddenly a key twists inside the lock and ceases your agonizing thoughts. You turn to see Dabi entering like he just didn’t force you to wait unreasonably long. 

“What took you so long?!” You ask while storming closer to him.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he says with a lazy grin, while shutting the door, “Guess I just lost track of time.” 

“I had to leave work early for nothing and I’ve been waiting for hours! I’ve told you I could lose my job over this!”

“Relax hero,” he responds and throws his jacket on the floor, “It’s not like there ain’t a line of heroes ready to replace you,” he adds and shuffles up to you. 

“But it’s my livelihood and you know that!”

“Your good looks goes to waste in that profession anyway,” he shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets, his dismissive attitude ticking you off. 

“My whole life could be ruined! I could lose everything and you act like this is just some game to you!” 

“It is,” he replies carefreely and with an unbearable smirk. Your hands ball into fists as rage bubbles up in your gut. 

“You are insufferable,” you retort through gritted teeth, but it does nothing to that sardonic smile on his face. 

“No need to be so hostile, sweetheart. I’m just playing here,” he responds innocently. 

“It’s not funny!” You shout, finally ready to stand up for yourself, “You’re purposely trying to ruin my life and I’m sick of it! I’m not gonna tolerate it any longer!”

“What other choice do you have?” 

You freeze at the question. It’s a problem you haven’t found an answer to, even during all these months. Your reaction causes a conniving grin as he slightly tilts his head.

“Or rather— What makes you think you have any other choice?” He asks. You stare up at him with lips little agape, unable to come up with a response. He then takes a step forward, forcing you to back away. 

“There’s absolutely nothing you can do,” he points out. His usual husky tone remains, but the way his turquoise eyes bore into yours appears threatening and reminds you of who you’re talking to.

“You’ll show up whenever I tell you to,” he says and continues to back you against the window sill, “Even if it’s in the middle of some shitty hero-work and for a sleazy fuck in an alley,” when your back hits the sill, Dabi places his hands on it, trapping you. 

“You are my toy. And I’m not done playing with you,“ he says with the most wicked smirk and for a moment you can only stare up at him, your heart sinking at the thought of continuing this forever. 

He then tilts his head, “And why is it that you’ll comply?”

Your gut twists from the painful reminder that makes you lower your head. Tightness spreads in your throat, making your breath hitch a little, “B-because—“ you reluctantly stutter, and your words come out as nothing more than a sad mumble.

“You’ll hurt my loved ones...”

“That’s right. Because I hold the lives of your loved ones over your head. Don’t you think it’d be a pity for them to get incinerated just because you wanna act like a brat?” He asks with a tone that’s nearly berating. Feeling ashamed to have even considered disobedience at the possible cost of their lives, you keep your head lowered. 

“Besides—” He cups your chin and makes you look up at the mischievous glint in his haunting eyes.

“We both know you’re far too weak to fight me anyway. You should just focus on what you’re good at and that’s spreading your legs for me.”

Your lips purse in frustration as your pride takes another hit. Dabi is far more stronger than you, but pointing out your inferiority is a taste too bitter to swallow. 

“...When you’ll get thrown into Tartarus, I’ll make sure to be there to lock the cell myself,” you growl, but your voice breaks as tears threaten to fall. 

“Dream big, sweetheart,” he replies with an encouraging tone as he obviously doesn’t take you seriously. You keep glaring up at him, not wanting to grant him the satisfaction of reducing you into tears, unfortunately though, one manages to roll down your cheek. Dabi reacts to your misery like it’s a mere tantrum. He puts his hands on your waist and hoists you up on the window sill. 

 “You get cute when you’re angry,“ he points out while tucking stray strands behind your ear. 

His remark humiliates you, but since there’s indeed nothing you can do about him, you leave any comments unsaid and lower your gaze. Dabi is pleased with your submissive reaction. While holding his hands on your waist tenderly, he starts planting soft kisses down your neck, which makes you face away in discomfort.

“Please.. Don’t leave any marks… They’re so hard to cover,“ you whine.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he murmurs, but you know he won’t. 

Bringing his lips on yours then, you don’t pull away but answer it bashfully. His lips move against yours gently, calming your resistant heart. Shifting your trembling hands, you hesitate but place them doubtfully on his chest and hum softly as his tongue invades your mouth. It’s warm and a little dominant when rubbing against yours. 

Slowly his hands slide on your hips and down on your thighs as he carefully lifts you in his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you towards the bed and places you on the mattress. With your lips still attached, he starts peeling the clothes off of your bodies. 

He’s considerate of your comfort in the beginning. Removing garment after another, his touch is skillful, discreet and easy to melt into. The demureness of your whines turn into subtle moans as his hands roam on your naked skin admiringly. 

A gasp, tormented in bliss, escapes your lips as he sucks one of your peaked nipples. His tongue sweeps against it, sending pleasurable vibrations all over your squirming body. While groping your breasts, he starts littering your body with kisses. 

He loves to hear your soft moans. They are proof of how he can tame you from reluctant and hateful into this sweet little mess. Just a moment ago you were spewing bitterness, but now with heat on your cheeks, his name rolls off your tongue smoothly as he pulls down your panties. 

Moving himself on top of you, you wrap your arms around his neck, your hooded eyes meeting his briefly as he presses another kiss on your lips. Grinding his hardened cock against your fluttering entrance, you moan into his mouth as your arousal coats the head of his cock. 

Lining his cock with your sloppy hole, he pulls away from your lips and starts pushing past your tight walls. Throwing your head back, agony spreads on your features momentarily as your pussy adjusts around his cock.

Dabi loves watching your face scrunch as he penetrates you. Your pussy wrapping around him while he enters deeper, your back arches as your whole body reacts to him. Whimpering quietly, you hold onto his forearms for comfort when he presses his forehead against yours. 

“Nnh, you feel good, baby,” he groans and starts to rock his hips gently. 

A breathy moan leaves your lips as a shiver of pleasure runs through your body. It’s a cue that you’re ready. Dabi intertwines his fingers with yours and starts thrusting into you steadily. Your other hand caresses his back, nails scratching his skin while he pants into your ear. 

As his pace becomes faster, your moans get louder, desperate. Closing your eyes, your other senses numb as you only focus on the pleasure that surges through you. He continues to fuck you, soon placing his weight on his forearms to see the blissful look on your face.

When you open your eyes, you meet his mesmerizing gaze as he pants above you, then slowly, his lips twist into a debauched smirk that tugs at the staples on the corner of his mouth. 

“How’s my cock feeling inside you, hero?” 

“Mmh.. G-good,” you moan. Suddenly he slams inside you hard, making you throw your head back and cry out. 

“Oh yeah? Nngh, then scream for me, baby,” another ruthless slam of his hips against yours. Hands gripping the sheets, you try to suppress your voice that comes out as choked screams, your vision blurring as he abuses your sweet spot so sinfully good. Your eyes screw shut as you bite your bottom lip, feeling him getting more rough with you. His hands groping your chest, teeth sinking into your delicate skin, despite his earlier promise. 

It’s sudden when he decides to pull out and flip you on your stomach. There’s no more consideration in his motions as he grabs your hips and forces them up. Wrapping a hand around his cock, he guides it back into your warmth, no longer expressing any gentleness as he starts pounding into you roughly. 

Your brows furrow and lips fall agape as the pleasure surges through you in powerful waves, making your legs quiver. The obscene sound of your squelching pussy and his skin slamming against yours echoes in the dim-lighted motel room. Your tormented moans piercing the thin walls into the ears of whoever happens to listen.

Another gasp tumbles down your lips as Dabi grasps a handful of your hair and presses your head down on the mattress. With your cheek squished against it, he holds you there and gets on top of you, supporting himself with his other hand that he places next to your head. 

Tears of overstimulation fall from your eyes, your hands gripping the bed sheets in sheer desperation as his pace is merciless. Your bodies covered sweat that makes strands of hair stick onto your face as he keeps fucking you. 

Dabi pants in pleasure with a look of depravity on his face, pleased by the sight of you and the jolts your body gives whenever he smacks your ass. You shut your eyes, feeling his thrusts becoming faster and sloppier as he nears his climax. Your legs give in and he leans himself over you, continuing to pound into you. 

“Fuck, ahh— I’m gonna cum inside you, baby,” he pants. You don’t want that, but know better than to defy him, especially when he’s on the brink of an orgasm. Sinking his teeth in your shoulder, his hot breath fans your skin as he grunts, releasing his seeds deep inside you. 

Holding still, a tiny drop of sweat trails down your temple as you keep panting quietly, waiting for him to empty himself inside you. Soon he loosens his grip and frees you from his grasp, allowing you to collapse on the bed with bruises and teeth marks on your skin.

You both lie on your back and pull the covers over yourselves, staring at the ceiling while basking in the afterglow. Dabi, with his every possible need satisfied, has his arms folded behind his head and he still pants quietly. You adjust the covers around your naked chest and turn on your side as guilt is quick to settle in.

You know Dabi is forcing you to do this and you adapt yourself in order to survive, yet at the same time you can’t help but be disappointed in yourself for enjoying it. Sighing deeply, you reach for your pants that were discarded on the floor in the heat of the moment. Digging your phone from the pocket, you check up for any notifications. 

Your face goes pale when you see a bunch of emergency calls and texts from your colleagues and even your boss, urging you to hurry up as there’s a major incident in downtown Musutafu.

“Shit!” You jump from the bed and start quickly gathering your scattered clothes.

“What?” Dabi asks, but seems uninterested to hear the answer. 

“My phone was mute and we’ve been summoned downtown!” You panic while dressing yourself up. 

“So?”

“So! Even my boss has tried to call me, which means since he contacted me personally, he’s fed up with me!” You add, quickly fixing your hair and grabbing your purse from the nightstand. 

Dabi merely scorns in boredom, “Just tell him you had more important shit to do,” he says which makes you stop and whip your head around as you open the door. 

“Endeavor’s a strict man! He’s not gonna tolerate me much longer if I keep failing him like this!” You shout before slamming the door shut. 

As an ironic smile spreads on his face, Dabi turns his gaze into the ceiling again. 

“Yeah. I know.”

˚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.

🏷️ tags: @hunajan @suksatoru @sukunaes @angelblueflame @trickster-kat @luvsymai @syrenkitsune @melodyglow-blog @baby-tini @ameliaenya404 @zukowantshishonourback @sukunas-bitxh @cyberdazetragedy @shortstuffiequeen24 @isabeauwolf @gabz38

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.

Two Rings and a Promise - Part 1

Prince!Touya x Duchess!Reader

Warnings: talks of marriage, arson, people being burnt to death (not reader), flashbacks, angst, reader and Touya got engaged as children (like it used to be done in the past between royals and nobles)

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Header by @pricetagofficial

Note: I accidentally published this instead of saving it as a draft, but it was basically done, save for a few details, so screw it. Biggest thank yous to @sparklytamaki for being my beta reader and helping me with writing this for over a year. This is also for @feitanporter, @dabisqueen, @crimsonkenjii-writes, and @pricetagofficial who have been meaning to read it! Thank you all for your patience!

You stare back at yourself through the mirror, focusing on your maids finishing the final touches on your makeup and jewelry. Wearing your favorite color, you are supposed to show a happy face for this occasion. You can’t even practice faking a smile for the crowd gathered downstairs waiting for you.

This is not how you expected your wedding to go. But then again, your dream marriage was never to happen. You had envisioned yourself in a pretty white dress, comfortable enough to allow you to run in an open field, wearing flowers on your head, holding hands with the one you had chosen to marry. It seemed like child’s play, looking back, but you and Touya were serious making that promise to yourselves. To wait until you were old enough to exchange real vows in front of a real priest on a real altar. Not because it suited your parents’ interests, but because it was what you wanted. Politics be damned, you made a choice as to what to do with your lives.

A bitter smile distorted your face as you remembered. None of your maids dared asking about it; they simply carried on with their work in silence. You looked down at your left hand and the ring that was already placed on your finger. A precious aquamarine stone set among small diamonds within a circular arrangement on a silver band. You recall stealing it from your mother’s dressing room, along with its match from your father’s. Another silver ring, the same type of stone in the same shape, but with a simpler setting. The image of Touya’s face lightening up when you gave it to him, showing him yours and telling him how these rings were proof of your promises; that look in his eyes, a blessing at that time, hasn’t stopped haunting you since. It was the image of a boy finally learning somebody wanted him. And you did want him. Maybe not during your first meeting -a very awkward playdate arranged by his father the King and your father the Duke-, but definitely after a few years, when you had become the best of friends. Two lonely children keeping each other company, in a pleasant game you were sure was gonna last forever.

Oh, silly child. Soon you will learn what it is to live in the real world.

A sob escapes from the bottom of your chest as you take the ring off, never to wear it again. You chastise yourself for this display of emotion, trying to stifle it as you tie a simple chain around the ring, then your neck. You tried not to get too worked up: after all, the wedding wasn’t taking place until tomorrow night. Tonight was just a feast held in your new fiancé’s honor, to welcome him into your lands before welcoming him into your bed. One of your uncle’s eccentricities, you suppose. He’s always looking for any excuse to create displays of grandeur to impress foreigners, especially if the money to pay for them came from someone else’s pocket. After both your parents died, your uncle took over your estate -but only until you turned of age, he assured you. He promised he would only take your best interests in mind. You were still a child back then, and needed someone to rely on. So you believed him, and let him into your home. You could have never guessed he would overstay his welcome, up to a few years into your adulthood.

You hid the ring inside your corset, closer to your heart, where it would rest for the rest of your days, next to Touya’s memory. You took a deep breath and slightly raised your head as you stared at yourself through the mirror once again.

They will never take him away from you.

Looking perfect, you adopted a serene, neutral expression, adequate enough to greet your guests downstairs.

This was to be a long night.

Haunting. That is how you would describe this entire ordeal. A haunting circus in which everyone mocked your pain under the guise of a celebration. Sitting on your banquet chair for the past two hours or so, you refused to be a part of it, despite your body going numb. Paying no mind to their ghoulish smiles, barely acknowledging their empty congratulations - this was a line of clowns in their best clothes that seemed to be endless as the night dragged on.

You wished you could disappear.

Somewhere, in your haze, you could hear children running around. Servants’ sons and daughters, laughing merrily as if they had a big secret among themselves, like backstage workers who knew the trick behind every performance, amazing the audience. You were once their age, right? Running about carelessly with your friends, play-pretending to be someone else, pushing each other on swings, sneaking out to steal treats from the kitchen, talking about everything and nothing... It was another life, one you can never return to.

“Milady, look!” a cheerful voice pulled you out of your stupor. Looking down, you see a tiny crowd of around 5 children surrounding your seat, looking up at you, expectantly. One of them, the youngest of the girls, was holding out a small bouquet of wildflowers, waiting for you to take it. “It’s for you! We spent all morning picking them in the fields!”

Alas, the first genuine smile of the night broke into your face. You took the flowers and brought them closer to your face to enjoy their sweet smell.

"Thank you, dear." you replied with a soft tone. "They're beautiful. I hope you didn't go through too much trouble finding them."

"My lady, is it true you're leaving us?" a concerned boy stepped forward to ask.

You blinked twice, not expecting them to know about this. But then again, it's only natural they do. Your wedding has been the only talk at your estate these past few weeks.

"Why... I'm afraid I am." you admitted sheepishly.

"But why?!" another girl stepped forward.

"Because I am getting married tomorrow, to a Count that is not from around here. And well... when a woman marries a man, she leaves her own home to move into his."

"But what if she doesn't want to?"

You were left wordless at this. That was a good question.

"Children!" a worried maid came running along. "What are you doing here, bothering the Duchess? It is way past your bedtime." she managed to gather the kids around and take them away. "I'm so sorry, your Grace, I could have sworn they were asleep-"

"It's fine, really." you intervened, amused. "They just came to present me with these." you showed off your flowers. "They have been very kind to me. Tell them I will stop by to say goodbye tomorrow, that will settle them."

"O-of course, my Lady."

"One more thing, before you go. Could you bring me another glass of wine? Better yet, bring the whole pitcher, please."

The young maid furrowed her brow at this, yet she bowed and made her way back to the kitchen.

Your drink arrived, but you couldn’t get that girl’s question out of your head.

“What if she doesn’t want to?”

It did not matter.

“But I don’t want to go!” you sobbed while your mother struggled to tie your coat on - the maids already worn out from your fighting against getting dressed to leave at once. “I know, darling, but this is something we must do, whether we like it or not.” she tried to reason with you.

“But why?!”

“Because we must obey the King’s orders. He commanded that you moved to live at Court-”

“But I don’t want to live with the King!” you started bawling again. “He scares me!” An ill-tempered, loud-spoken giant with cold blue eyes and a flaming beard, he was a sore sight to behold whenever he showed up. Had he not had the respect of all his courtiers, anyone would have mistaken him for an ogre.

Your mother scoffed, amused. “I know. He scares me too, but you won’t be living with him.” you stop struggling, confused. “Instead, you’ll move in with his children. You remember them, right? Princess Fuyumi and Prince Touya.” she emphasized on that last name. “You have played together when they’ve come to visit us here. Now you’ll get to play with them whenever you want, only this time in their palace.” she finally managed to lace your coat closed.

You sniffled. “I want to stay with you...”

“I know, darling.” she picked you up in her arms. “But sometimes we must do things we don’t want to. You know why?” you shook your head. “Because they’re what’s right, even if they don’t seem like that at first. In the long run, you’ll see they were for the best.” she kissed the top of your head. “I promise your father and I will come visit you at the first chance we get. But I bet that, with your new friends, you’ll barely have time to miss us.”

You didn’t think so, but stayed quiet. Your mother was making an effort to comfort and encourage you, but it wasn’t fully working. She smiled and you tried to follow, pretending her words had their desired effect. You learned something important: what you want did not matter. All you had to do in life was to smile and let yourself get carried away by the decisions of others.

"I see you have a way with children." your fiancé the Count invited himself to sit next to you. Your smile faded. "That's endearing."

You held your breath, expecting another comment discussing you having children in the near future. It never came: just him staring at you.

"Hm." was all that came out of your mouth.

He sighed in disappointment.

"Could you please use more than one syllable when talking to me?"

You took a sip of your wine and finally turned around to look at him.

"I could."

He sighed again, shaking his head.

"I know that the circumstances leading to our engagement were not... ideal.” he started. “But that doesn’t mean we should start this marriage on bad terms.”

“I thought we already did. What, with everything you did in order to force me to accept your hand.”

“I know it may seem like I forced you, but-”

“You and my uncle, plotting behind my back.” you interrupted.

“Well, what choice did I have?” he snapped.

“You could have simply asked me to marry you, like any decent man would.”

“I did! Several times! But you rejected me every single one of them.”

“And you didn’t get the hint?” you asked sarcastically.

He grunted, exasperated by now. “All I want is a peaceful, loving marriage...”

“Then find someone else to marry.” you interrupted again, beyond done with this conversation. “Someone who truly wants you.”

“But I want you!” he yelled, fist banging on the table, turning several heads into his direction.

Despite this embarrassing moment, you remained with a calm demeanor. “And that is exactly what you are getting, so I don’t understand why you’re so upset.”

He stared at you, eyes fuming, not believing what you just said. You ignored him, leaving your seat but taking your drink with you.

“Ah, my dear Count!” your uncle’s loud voice startled you as he barged in. “Please excuse my niece’s behavior. She’s always had an attitude, especially when nervous, but that is normal among young women these days.” you scoffed. “I do see several guests that have been meaning to congratulate you all night. Why don’t you go over to greet them while I talk with the Duchess? It won’t be long, I promise.”

The Count obliged, nodding at the two of you before walking away. You immediately seized the opportunity to do the same, but were promptly grabbed into staying.

“What is your problem?” your uncle’s tone shifted into something less cordial and more menacing. It didn’t phase you, though.

“I could ask you the same, to both of you. Everything is going your way and yet you’re still complaining-”

“It’s because of you! Your sour face ruins the mood for everyone!”

“So? What am I supposed to do? Nobody said anything about me having to look happy tonight. But don’t worry: if I leave, none of you will have to see how I really feel about all this nonsense. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Now, you listen to me girl.” he tightened his grip on your arm, applying enough pressure to make it hurt and surely leave a bruise afterwards -something that used to make you cry when you were younger, but now it was all the same. “With everything I have done to make a good match for you, you should be grateful I managed to secure this marriage-.”

You laughed. “You call that a good match? Seriously? And who asked you to do all that work in the first place? You didn’t even consult me about it, instead you simply decided it was the best-”

“The best thing for you!” he interrupted.

“For you and your plans to keep running this estate, my property, as yours and yours alone.” You corrected, voice raising. “Now that I’m old enough to take over my position as Duchess, everyone wonders why I haven’t. So, instead of letting them know what an usurping piece of shit you are, you sell me off to the first asshole desperate enough to play dirty and help you evict me out of my own home.”

“Enough!” he raised his hand while pulling you closer to make sure you took the hit. A subconscious reaction, he stopped halfway through, upon remembering you weren’t alone in the room.

You scoffed, shoving him, and releasing yourself from his grasp. Wine had spilled all over your dress.

“Tomorrow you will get what you want: I will be gone, having become someone else’s problem. And if there is one good thing coming out of this is that I will never have to see your fucking face ever again!” You ended up yelling at him, not caring about everyone’s gazes placed on you.

Just as your voice boomed, the sound of an explosion could be heard all over the great hall. Everyone went silent, confusion rising like a cloud of smoke. Another explosion followed; this time accompanied by agonizing screams of dying men. It was close. Close enough to rattle the entire room. You looked at your uncle, whose eyes were set on the Count, before falling on you. He then left your side to announce: “Beloved guests, please remain seated. Rest assured you are safe here. I will inquire with the Head Guard and get to the bottom of this.” Another roar interrupted him.

A bright blue flare blew the doors open, pushing forward whoever was standing near and throwing in a couple of carbonized corpses. Panic instantly rose at the sight of it; you choked a scream by covering your mouth with your trembling hands. The guests wasted no time escaping through the side doors. You stood still, looking back at your servants and ladies fleeing to safety. The kitchen maid looked at you, hesitant on leaving you behind. You quietly nodded, signaling it was okay. Whoever was intruding, it was up to you to deal with them.

A tall, dark figure walked among the flames and smoke. He strolled in so casually, hands inside the pockets of his large black coat, with an uncaring, almost bored-looking expression.

No secret to who he was. Dabi. A villain fitting his description, notorious for his destructive power -one you never expected to witness firsthand. His looks characterized him just as well as his flames did: messy black hair framing his face, dark rugged patches of burnt skin contrasting with healthy-looking one. You couldn’t help but to wonder about the scars: did they hurt? How long did he have them for? What’s their story?

All those questions were thrown aside once you managed to look into his eyes. Something about them resonated with you. A chilling shade of light blue, the more you looked at them, the more they drew you in, like a pull or hypnosis.

He scanned you up and down before letting his gaze inspect the rest of the room.

“So I guess the party’s over, huh?” was the first thing he said, coated with sarcasm. But he wasn’t wrong. Only you, your uncle and the Count stood in front of him.

“What are you doing here, villain?” your uncle asked with a hint of disgust. “We want no business with those of your kind.”

The villain in question ignored him, taking his time to walk over to you.

“I heard you’re getting married… tomorrow, right?”

You pursed your lips tightly, just nodding as a response, not breaking eye contact.

"To whom? Him?" he lazily pointed at your groom-to-be.

You nodded again, this time managing to let out a few words.

"That's the plan..."

He took another look at the Count, then turned back with a scoff. His soft giggles echoed in the room.

"Yeah... that's not going to happen." He smiled at the men next to you.

"How dare you?" exclaimed your insulted fiancé. "You have no right-"

Dabi lifted a fiery fist in his direction; enough to shut him up.

"Be honest with me." he continued, azure eyes never leaving you. "Was this your idea?"

"Say nothing!" your uncle ordered. "Not a word to this villain!"

You gulped, tongue tied. You, usually speaking your mind, were at a loss of words, not knowing if you should speak up or not. You looked at your uncle, then the Count, with a feeling that whatever you said next will reflect on them. However hateful they were, you dreaded the idea of them getting harmed because of you.

“I asked you a question.” Dabi's face got closer to yours, while his tone became more commanding. He startled you, but you quickly regained your composure. "Did you choose him?"

You shook your head, brows creasing. "No. I never wanted to get married at all. Not to anyone." Somehow, all your truths came spilling out.

He smiled.

"Is that so? Well, Y/N... I guess that means I arrived at a good time, then." he gave a few steps back.

"What do you mean-?"

A bright blue blaze came out of his extended hand, immediately reaching the Count. A set of screams filled the room, forcing you to set your gaze on a scorching body, falling to the ground as he was quickly being consumed by the fire. You gasped and covered your face. A step back made you fall on the ground, the skirts of your dress making for a soft landing. You began to feel dizzy as that horrid smell reached you. Your former betrothed lay dead on the ground, carbonated rests of a human. You could just faint from what you were witnessing, trying your best to even your breathing.

"Wh- what the hell have you done?!" your uncle raised his voice, his tone angry yet terrified. "You wretched villain, you-!"

"Is that the only word you know, old man?" Dabi looked at him, unamused. "'Villain' this, 'villain' that?" he took a few steps towards him, hand in his pockets. "You really think that's an insult, don't you?"

"What gives you the right-?"

"I take it you were the mastermind behind this arrangement, then?"

"This is none of your business!"

That put a smile on Dabi's face. "Really? You trying to marry off Y/N is none of my business?" his smile widens. Your uncle kept walking backwards for a safe distance, to no avail.

There was nothing else you could do, besides watching both men. Your hands balled into fists as your gaze observed the stranger in detail. Something about him, about his eyes, resonated with you.

"Now that's just dumb." his hand moved to pull something out of his pocket. "You should know better, old man." Your eyes widened as you saw a silver ring being placed on his finger. "You can't give out what's someone else's."

You gasped, like a madwoman who was just given her sense back. It almost sounded like a scream. "Touya!" you exclaimed the only word on your mind.

He set his eyes on you, those beautiful blues, for a fleeting instant before removing them.

"Good to know at least one of you recognizes me..."

"That's impossible!" your uncle exclaimed, drawing all attention towards him. "Prince Touya is dead! He was-"

"Killed by his own flames?" he smiled again as he lit up his hand. "Did they look like these?"

Touya was delighted in seeing the panicked state your uncle was reduced to.

"Y'know, I just can't stand people like you... if you're going to act like you're the boss here, you should at least have something to back you up." he chuckled. "That won't be a problem anymore." Those were the last words your uncle got hear.

"No! Wait!" you cried for nothing, as Touya launched his flames to the man in front of him.

You closed your eyes shut and covered your ears, not wanting to witness another man burning to death. Shaking, you forced yourself to look up, placing your trembling hands on your lap. Cold blue eyes were set on you with a neutral expression. You gulped, not daring to speak, waiting on his next move. Your life was in his hands, and he knew it, but didn't seem to care.

"There." he finally spoke. "You're free." he walked past you, out of the great hall and into the hallways. "We can talk about how you can pay me back later."

Breathing had become nearly impossible. Your chest struggling to move evenly. You could bawl, you could vomit, you could faint... But Touya didn't look back, his steps echoing in the room. Time didn't seem to pass anymore. You didn't register your servants running towards you in a hurry, having waited for the villain to leave. You didn't see their worried faces around you, nor hear them calling, panicking as your consciousness abandoned you.

AU where you and Touya were childhood best friends and you always talked about how you’d become pro heroes together.

You’d play pretend as if you’re fighting crime together, talk about what kind of heroes you wanted to be, and suggest hero names for each other.

After he died you went on to become a pro hero, alone. You use the hero name he suggested as a way to honor him.

Strangely, every time you’re injured by a villain, that same villain is found later… burned to death.

❝A SACRIFICE TO THE CAUSE ❞

Dabi x fem!Reader (ft. Hawks)

summary: being a double spy, Hawks has to work his way through the League of Villains and prove his loyalty. Being tested by no one other than Dabi, how far is the hero willing to go, even if it means kidnapping an innocent civilian and handing her over to the villains?

cw‼️: dark content, yandere!Dabi, kidnapping, stalking, noncon, voyeurism, abuse, MDNI +18

word count: 4.3k

A/N: everything is inspired by this post

The clock hit past midnight. The noisy streets of downtown were still filled with people and traffic, but the outer parts of the town remained quiet, peaceful, the silence of the night almost too suffocating. That’s where the winged hero was supposed to meet his newest acquaintance, somewhere far from the noise and wandering eyes. Hawks stood up from his seat after finishing the last paperwork and turning off the lights in his office, preparing to fly outside. He looked up at the endless starry sky and sighed, perhaps silently wishing that everything would come to an end. It pained him to the core, to start negotiations with the most wanted villains of Japan, doing atrocities behind the scenes to prove their loyalty, and still, it was never enough. Despite from this being only a grand scheme planned by no other than the HSPC, still the winged hero felt troubled. He tried to constantly keep in mind that this was for the greater good, that his mission would bring plenty of advantages on the heroes side. And yet, his newest acquaintance just knew how to find the vilest ideas for Hawks to prove his loyalty, it’s like the hero could never put out the fire burning in those cerulean eyes that would constantly doubt him, look down on him with disgust, mock him and his ideals. He never trusted him. Dabi never trusted him.

Screw him, Hawks thought. Once he’d get more access to the rest of the League, he’d stay away from Dabi. But the start is the hardest part, he had to get Dabi’s approval before he was allowed inside the headquarters. But just like always, Hawks had mastered to put on his tough facade, ready to be the comission’s perfect weapon, cold and heartless when needed, just like he was trained to since a kid. Without wasting more time, he went outside, the cold breeze of the night ruffling his feathers as he flied towards the destination. The secret spot where he was supposed to meet the villain was just outside the town, near a port surrounded by old abandoned buildings and empty boats floating on the calm waters.

There he finally landed, calmly walking inside one of the buildings, instantly being met with the familiar face of the blueflame user, who was leaning against the wall, hands on his pockets, a dull expression on his scarred face. The moment his gaze turned to the winged hero, a sly grin formed on his face, already excited to play with his pet pro.

“You’re late” the villain raised his eyebrow, eyeing Hawks as he entered in. “Y’know I am not keen on patience.”

“Spare me this time” Hawks chuckled, raising his hands. “It’s already hard for me to go out of hero duties and come by whenever I’m summoned, I’m not exactly one with much free time ‘round here.”

Dabi remained silent, and Hawks continued.

“So… any news from your leader? Have I passed the test?”

“Not that fast, hero” Dabi’s lips curled into a grin. “I can’t just let you waltz your way into the League that easily now can I? There’s one more thing I need, and if you do it, m’gonna make damn sure to personally welcome you into our lovely group.”

Hawks let out a sigh, holding tightly onto the only string of patience he had left. He could sense the dangerous intent behind the villains words, dread settling in his gut as he was about to spill the latest mission for him.

Dabi ran a hand in his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper, and a picture, handing them over to Hawks. The hero looked at them, in the paper there was an address written, along with the names of some places. Then he looked at the picture, furrowing his brows in confusion. In it there was a young woman, a good looking one, probably on her twenties or so. Hawks didn’t seem to recognise her, or any of the places written on the paper.

“Context, if you don’t mind?” Hawks forced a smile and Dabi chuckled.

“To keep it short, I want you to bring ‘er to me. There’s her address written, where she lives, works, gets her morning drink and so on” he said.

“Who is this person, if I may ask?” the hero asked, the alarms in his head going off as he realised Dabi has been stalking this woman’s every move.

“Just a little obsession of mine, if I may say.” he licked his lips, his voice almost shaking from the pure thrill of the situation. “A pretty little thing I’ve been wanting to get my hands on for a loooong time..” he said, dramatically dragging his words.

Hawks looked at him in pure disbelief, before it finally hit him.

“Are you asking me to kidnap this civilian?!”

“The man too fast for his own good and yet so damn slow to catch on things” Dabi laughed, a hint of mockery in his eyes. “Yeah, bring ‘er to me. I doubt she’ll come willingly so unfortunately, y’gonna have to use some force.”

Hawks shook his head, letting out a laugh, even though the situation was anything but hilarious.

“You can’t be serious right now, man. How is this going to prove my loyalty to the League in any way?!”

“Birdie, don’t forget that I am your only way of joining our troop, the only way the rest of the League will trust ya as well because they trust me. And you’ll earn my trust for good if you do this. What’s the matter though? I thought you were ready to do anything in the name of the League, yeah? It’s a sacrifice to the cause.” Dabi smirked, a teasing glint in his blue orbs, amused by the hero’s reaction. It was something extreme, not exactly something the League had requested, but being the second in command after Shigaraki, Dabi sure as hell could do whatever he wanted as long as it doesn’t get in their way of plans. And he could use his pet pro as he saw fit until he was sure he could be trusted. He was more than capable of kidnapping the girl himself, but the League and its members had to stay low. Dabi shrugged, before putting a hand on the hero’s shoulder, slightly heated as a warning.

“Consider this as your final deed to join the League, the key to opening the door to new paths that will bring ya so much benefits. To reach our goals sacrifices must be made, and we don’t need weak useless trash among us.”

With a pat on his back Dabi finally walked out, leaving the hero behind. Hawks didn’t realise he had his fists clenched this whole time. He swallowed hard, taking in a deep breath to calm his nerves. He hadn’t done anything, and yet he could feel the guilt slowly forming inside because he knew he would do something soon. It was about to happen, even though he was in denial. He had to follow through the plan, no matter what, and this was the hardest part. He looked at the picture, the pretty woman who looked too innocent, a civilian living a normal life, how could he steal all that from her and throw her in the pits of hell with someone like Dabi? The League was full of dangerous people, but Dabi was the worst of them all. It gave him the shivers, thinking that a man like him had formed a creepy obsession towards a civilian like her, god knows what he would do to her? How could Hawks live knowing he’d destroy her life?

No matter what it takes, you must go through this till the very end, the comission president’s words echoed in his mind. Once you take this mission there is no going back, you must earn their trust, that’s what matters most. Do everything they ask for.

Well, fuck it.

*

*

The first days of winter had finally arrived, the weather conditions becoming harsher than usual. Despite the coldness, it was actually one of your favorite times of the year, so you highly anticipated winter and everything it brought. The freezing early mornings only to be comforted by a warm cup of coffee as you made your way to work, walking through the snowy streets of the city. You lived a normal cozy life, the routine never becoming boring, something you rather enjoyed than working on hero agencies or even becoming one yourself. Not that you had a quirk that would be useful in the battlefield, but even if you did, you wouldn’t choose the chaos that came with becoming a hero. You liked your life, as simple as it is, you didn’t need to achieve great things for you to be satisfied.

So today was one of the usual days for you as you made your way to work. Little did you know that a pair of sharp golden eyes had been following your every move for the past few days, studying, waiting for the perfect moment.

The tragic fate of a common civilian existing into a superhuman world where society is divided between heroes and villains, living your life so mindlessly because heroes are always there to protect everyone. As long as a hero is nearby, you are safe, live your life carefree and never worry about details such as someone stalking you late at night on your way home. You’d expect a villain when you turned your head, being cornered in an empty alleyway. But the shadow of those wings was familiar, your heart skipped a beat as you recognised the villain in front of you.

The hero?

“Y-You’re…” your breath hitched, looking at the feathers that were holding your wrists. “A hero?! W-What’s going on?!”

His cold gaze sent shivers through your spine, whilst his feathers covered your mouth and held you motionless, since when were heroes so villanous?

“Don’t make this harder for me.” he grunted, approaching closer, you were too terrified to notice the hint of guilt wavering in his voice.

I’m sorry for this..

Those were the last words you heard before you saw black.

*

*

“Rise n’ shine, sleeping beauty~”

The strange husky voice echoed through the air, whilst you struggled to open your eyes, following with a sharp headache that made you whimper. Your vision was still blurry, but you could notice two silhouettes right above you, looking at you as if you were some sort of rare souvenir in display for the public to see.

Hawks stood above you, looking at the villain who had unzipped the bag with you inside it, now half awake and confused, with your hands and feet bound. It didn’t take too long to come to your senses and realise your circumstances, terror setting in as you looked at your captors. You struggled to move, your eyes instantly filling with tears and all Hawks wished in that moment was to grab you and fly you away from this madness. But he couldn’t.

“So much prettier up close…” the other man whispered, leaning down on you. He had a hood on and a jacket zipped up to his chin, his face almost hidden but not even the shadows could hide the glowing blue eyes that bore into yours. “M’not gonna hurt ya, gorgeous.”

Then he turned to the other man behind him, and your eyes widened after recognising the hero, the same one you saw in the alleyway earlier. Your screams were muffed, a desperate look in your eyes as you stared at the hero who clearly wasn’t planning on saving you.

A scarred hand reached to remove the duct tape in your mouth.

“P-Please don’t hurt me!” you whimpered, tears rolling down your cheeks. “Please let me g-go! Y-You’re the number two hero… right?! What is going on, please untie me!!”

Hawks let out a sharp sigh, almost turning around, not being able to look at your state that he put you in. The other man laughed, removing his hood to reveal his spiky raven hair and his charred face, a face you’ve seen before on the news that made your blood turn cold. You couldn’t believe your eyes, this had to be some sort of nightmare.

“Y-You… you’re..”

“Oh? ” Dabi raised an eyebrow, his grin getting wider to the point his staples almost came off. “She seems to know me. Ain’t that just wonderful? No need for me to introduce myself to ya then, princess.”

“I must go now” Hawks stated, his back still facing you. “You got what you wanted, you better keep your end of the bargain.”

“Well done, hero” Dabi chuckled, emphasising the word on purpose. “I’ll personally make sure you get rewarded for all your efforts and hard work you’ve done for the League.”

It was almost like your crying and pleas for help went deaf on the hero’s ears, their little chat about “deals” and “rewards” made you sick to the stomach. The number two hero of Japan, participating in such filthy acts, someone plenty of people looked up to. “Help! Help me! Y-You fucking hypocrite!” you screamed, almost startling the both of them. “Y-You’re supposed to be a hero, to protect us! W-What are you doing?! Why did you bring me to him?! I don’t wanna die, what do you want from me?!”

Dabi let out a laugh, as if this was the most amusing show of his life. He roughly grabbed your chin, squeezing your cheeks as he stared into your plucked lips.

“You see it too, don’t cha? How fake these mighty heroes really are, how this society actually is” he grabbed your face, turning it to Hawks’ direction and continued “Just look at that guy, I gotta give it to him, really. Went out of his way to bring you to me, just as I requested.”

“Enough..” Hawks growled, his voice full of threat, warning him to not cross the line.

“Y’know, I’ve been eyeing you for a while, you’ve caught my interest,” Dabi spoke with a soft tone, almost too unsettling as he gently tucked some strands of hair behind your ear. “Due to.. recent circumstances, I couldn’t go further, all I could do is watch you, pretty girl. But that guy over there…” he pointed at Hawks, who was all tense from the situation. “That guy made it possible. Some hero ain’t he?”

“I said enough!” Hawks shouted, shooting his sharp feathers towards Dabi, pointed right on his neck. You let out a shriek, lowering your head in fear as your whole body trembled. Though the villain didn’t move an inch, his amused expression still plastered on his face. Keigo’s facade was slowly breaking, the frustration and anxiety this whole situation brought was clear as day on his face, and Dabi was living for it. Without getting his eyes off Hawks, he grabbed your arm firmly, pulling you to his body and making you face him.

“Since you’re finally on my hands, lets give him a show, shall we? ” he whispered on your lips, before turning to Hawks again. “And you…you better not move an inch, or I will get angry”

“What the hell are you on?” Hawks said through gritted teeth. “I did what you told me to. Enough is enough, Dabi.”

“Why so serious, let’s have some fun!” the villain said gleefully. He brought you on his lap, hands sneaking around your waist as he buried his head on your neck, taking in your scent. Shivers ran through your spine, afraid of what he’d do to you if you tried to get away, having heard of his atrocities. But he was surprisingly.. gentle. His mouth claimed yours, slowly savouring every inch while you didn’t put on resistance, letting him invade your mouth with his tongue. Warm hands placed on your hips, gently squeezing and digging in your soft flesh, making you squirm. Everything that was happening made you feel dizzy, the kidnapping, the fear, the kiss that made you melt instantly. His kiss turned more fierce. Hungry. Wanting. Like a man who had been starving for life, he kissed you deeply, hands roaming over your body and bringing you even closer to him no matter how much you tried to push him away. Finally he pulled away, looking at you with his half lidded eyes, high on the feeling. You were breathless, your face flushed hot. The world had stopped for a moment, only for the silence to be broken by a third voice, reminding you both that you weren’t alone.

“I am not sitting here to look at you force another person into doing things with you like some sicko, I draw my line here.” Hawks said.

“I don’t think you got any privilege to draw any lines, after kidnapping said person” Dabi laughed before turning back at you. “Besides.. am I really forcing it? She was enjoying herself, weren’t you babe?”

You shook your head, extinguishing any fire he lit inside of you with his feverish kiss. It was wrong, he is a mass murderer, a villain who ordered your kidnapping. You were afraid of putting resistance, because you didn’t have 9 lives.

And yet you acted like you had some. Without thinking twice you took the opportunity of them chatting to actually kick Dabi in the chest as hard as you could, before standing up and running away. The villain backed off with a grunt, cursing through his teeth, before his hands lit with blue flames and chased after you, making a hit for your legs to stop you from running. He let out a maniacal laugh as he saw you falling to the ground with a scream, the back of your legs burned just enough to prevent you from moving, scorching heat torturing you slowly. Dabi stepped closer, his hand warming up once again, excited to burn you to other places, before a sharp feather slipped right in, not letting him get any closer to you.

“If you continue this any longer I won’t just sit here and watch.” Hawks yelled, his eyes burning with rage and guilt gnawing at his chest at the situation he put you in.

Dabi simply wrapped his hand around the feather, before setting it ablaze.

“I agree, you can’t just sit here and watch” he rolled his eyes, reaching to pull you forcefully by your hair. “If I was in a better mood, I’d let you join us, Hawks. But this feisty thing right here decided to be bratty, and I’ll take my sweet time to punish her properly”

You shook your head, crying in despair. “N-No please..!”

He pushed your head to the ground, with his boot. Smashing it right on the cold surface, dirtying your face with his filthy boot, your hands grabbed at his foot desperately, screaming for him to stop.

“I hope I didn’t ruin that pretty face too much, it’s the reason I wanted you after all” he talked casually, as if he wasn’t suffocating you with his boot. His hand reached the back of your thighs, trailing up to grab at the soft flesh of your ass. “..or.. one of the reasons.”

Hawks was gone, flied away, no desire to witness such scene with his own two eyes. He swore he’d save you, but what was the point of that when you’d be traumatised for life? All because of him, he could never live knowing he did that to you, he’d rather not see it either.

He couldn’t see the way Dabi handled you right there on the ground, roughly gripping at your skin as he pulled you ass up, his boot gone from your face and replaced with his hand. He tore off your clothes, the cold breeze giving you goosebumps, but nothing could soothe the nasty burns on your legs.

“That’ll teach your bratty ass to behave.” Dabi said sternly, bringing his other hand to slap your ass hard, the sting of it had you gasp for air. You cried loudly, hoping that someone could hear you and help you, but the area was empty. How could anyone help you when even the number two hero couldn’t? Flying away like a coward, leaving you in the hands of the monster.

“M’sorry.. I-I’m so sorry!” you whimpered, hoping he’d show you mercy. Little did you know that he was a sadist, seeing you crying, screaming and groveling like that heightened his arousal. Oh, he would have so much fun with you, his perfect little doll. His hungry eyes wandered behind you, focusing on the little heaven between your legs, slippery folds glistening, a meal ready to be savoured.

“Let’s check if you’re as tasty as you look” Dabi whispered, before leaning down to lick a long stripe on your pussy, his eyes rolling back as he tasted you. A sharp gasp eacaped your mouth, his warm tongue playing with your folds before focusing on your clit, licking and sucking it. Your legs trembled, toes clenched as you breathed in short gasps, fear mixed with extreme pleasure as he devoured you.

“So goood..” he growled, sending shivers down your spine. You felt an uncomfortable knot forming at your core, ready to explode at any time, but just when it was getting close, he pulled away with a loud pop, leaving you there breathless.

“Fuck..your flavour. Damn it. Barely stopped myself there.” he chuckled, licking his lips and giving your cunt a rough slap. “But you don’t deserve any pleasure tonight, little brat.”

Leaving you on edge had you whining in frustration, your body completely betraying you.

“Maybe tomorrow I’ll eat you out all damn day, until you actually fall in love with me” he whispered in your ear, keeping you bent over as he leaned to press his thick hardened cock right in your entrance. “But now, you might hate me-”

With that he pushed inside of you without a warning, stretching you out completely and taking the air out of your lungs at the burning sensation.

“…and I’m fine with that too.”

He was big, already filling you to the brim as you choked and cried at the pain, barely adjusting to his size. His hand pressed on your face on the hard concrete as he began to move, not wasting any second.

“H-Hurts.. s-stop!”

“Good. It’s meant to hurt.” he grunted, your cunt wrapping tightly around his length making his head spin. His movements were brutal, ruthless as he used you like some fleshlight, focusing on nothing but his own pleasure, no matter how much it hurt you. Your whole body hurt, half naked and bruised, your brain fogging up as the villain fucked you senseless, warm hands gripping your hips that would leave more bruises later. Completely ruined and defiled, you stopped struggling, squeezing your eyes shut and waiting for the nightmare to end, hoping he’d stop soon.

Dabi noticed your submission, though he couldn’t help but mock you.

“Mmhmm fuck- What’s wrong? Won’t call for help anymore, sunshine? Who knows, maybe some hero will show up” he laughed cruelly, giving you one deep thrust that had your body jolt. The bitter reminder that because of a hero you were in this situation, had your eyes burning with tears of rage, you could do nothing but scream.

“That’s what I’m talking about, louder.” he encouraged you, his thrusts never stopping as he chased his high. “Maybe somebody will save you- maybe Hawks, yeah? The fucker’s nearby, you want him to save you poor baby? Hah but I doubt he’ll save you when he sees you like this”

He bit his lip at your sight, looking at where the two connected, the way your pussy swallowed every inch of his cock so deliciously, as if it was made for him. “M’sure he’d join the fun instead, though I ain’t the type to share.”

His words made you feel sick and nauseous, if he didn’t stop right there you’d soon throw up. His movements got sloppier, breathing heavier as he clung to your body, rutting into you.

“F-Fuck.. take it.. take it all you slut.” he moaned, white ropes of cum filling you to the brim, some of it leaking down your thighs. It felt disgusting, and as much as you thought of it, you’d have rather died instead.

The villain pulled out with a hiss, looking at the mess he made, the sight of his cum leaking out of your abused hole had him hard as a rock again. He’d surely go for another round, but he’d rather find a more comfortable place instead. He lifted your limp body, holding you in his arms. Your face was a mess, smeared with dirt and dried tears, ruined, and yet you had never looked more beautiful. Dabi admired you in silence as you closed your eyes, passing out instantly in his arms. He couldn’t ignore the excitement in his chest as he was about to introduce you to your new life soon, with him.

*

*

“Fuck” Hawks cursed under his breath, keeping his distance and hiding in one of the abandoned warehouses. He saw Dabi walking off, satisfied, with the poor girl in his arms. His stomach twisted in disgust, Hawks had no idea how he didn’t actually fly away and ended up witnessing the whole thing. Nor did he notice the bulge that had already formed in his pants at the scene.

🏷️ tags: @candycandy00 @shonen-brainrot @doumadono @amethystnightshade @shaygriffen @hunajan @trickster-kat @syrenkitsune @zukowantshishonourback @dabihawksluva

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. 

Based on a conversation I was having with @anima197

Imagine husband Dabi, scumbag as usual adapting as a newlywed to you

It’s been around a month of you two moving in a small but nice house that his parents bought for you. He’s always been an asshole by personality, but one day he goes too far.

Maybe it’s something he said in a cruel jest to see you rise to the bait, or maybe he touched you in a way that was more than offensive or hurtful. Either way, you finally snap- except, you don’t combust and break down quietly, you turn cold as stone.

You set your jaw, keep your eyes cool and indifferent as you skirt around him when he walks by. He doesn’t know that he’s upset you because you usually brush his tactics off with an eye roll or a pout. He’s never seen you like this, completely ignoring him and barely acknowledging his existence while he tries to get you bothered.

He tries pushing you against a wall to make you flustered, but it doesn’t work. You will your body to become limp and unresponsive as he snarls into your neck and litters it with hickies, desperately trying to pull some sort of sound of either pleasure or pain from you. It doesn’t matter how his hands dance around your tits and between your legs, you just stare ahead past him, your mouth set in a straight line.

He draws back uncertainly at your lack of response, and his heart drops to his stomach when he doesn’t even see tears in your eyes from overstimulation, like you usually do when he attacks you like this.

Before he can even open his mouth you’re already gently pushing past him, and it’s the fact that you’re not even angry or shoving him that makes panic settle on his heart.

This…this indifference, this feeling as if he doesn’t mean anything to you breaks his cocky attitude .

At first he tries to refute the feeling, he merely trails behind you from room to room picking up random objects and pretending that he’s actually doing something apart from eyeing you and assessing your demeanor.

You don’t pay any attention to him. You open your laptop and absentmindedly hum as you begin working on whatever class or job you have. He stands at the entrance, fiddling with a vase and looking at you from the corner of your eye.

“Did you eat yet?” He says in his hoarse voice, almost embarrassed to talk to you after his earlier libido was met with no reaction at all.

Silence.

He sighs frustratedly and runs a hand through his ivory hair. Turning on his heel, he storms out of the room and mindlessly goes to the kitchen, making as big as a racket as possible in hopes of luring you out of your catatonic state to yell at him for being too loud.

He eats alone, in silence.

He doesn’t finish his crappy sandwich, fuming at the bland bread that substitutes for the plentiful food you always make for him.

It’s almost evening now, and you haven’t come out of your room yet to even use the restroom. He’s getting worried now, you’ve never been so quiet before. You’ve at least been fed in the face, a finger pointed at his chest as you yell at him for how he fucked up. So why can’t you do that now? At least he’ll know what to apologize for, dammit! Why does he have to wring it out of you?

He decides a different tactic now.

Hed bully your emotions out of you, one way or another.

You’re about to change your clothes when he walks in for the umpteenth time. You don’t lift your head when he slams the door open and closes it behind him, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Why are you being such a bitch today?”

After a few beats of silence, he barrels towards you while you shrug on your nightie. He grabs your face towards him and knocks on your forehead harshly.

“Hello? Anyone in there?” He shakes your head lightly.

You look at his collarbones and then gently pull your face away, heading off to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

Dabi stares at you in shock, his ha da still suspended in midair. Did he really mess up that badly?

The panic in his heart has risen to his throat, and he feels like he can’t breathe.

He’s 13 years old again

His father is ignoring him

He messed up, he didn’t train well enough today

In the process of trying to be better than everyone else he had effectively isolated himself again

He’s practically invisible because he fucked up so bad

He stumbles back out of the room and falls onto the couch, clutching his hair and panting with wide eyes into a pillow. It takes him a couple of minutes to tone down his impending panic attack

By the time he has enough nerve to get into bed with you, the lights are already off and you’re seemingly fast asleep.

Dabi quietly trudges over to the side of the bed and stands over your sleeping figure.

You look so peaceful right now without any part of him to bother you. He wonders if you’re better off without him.

He slowly crawls under the sheets with you and faces your back. He knows you need space but he can’t help it when his arms move around you to hold you tight against him.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did to make you this upset, but I know I fucked up. Please just-“

His voice catches in his throat, and at this you crack an eye open, making sure to keep your breathing deep and level.

“Just tell me what I did. Or at least just forgive me for whatever I did…I miss you.” He whispers this last part and buried his head in your hair, taking deep breaths and inhaling your scent. It makes his aching heart beat a little slower.

You don’t say anything, but after a full minute of silence you slowly turn to face him. He unconsciously grips your body harder against him as if he were afraid you’re going to push him away again.

But instead to his amazement, you have both eyes open and trained on him. He knows to keep his mouth shut when you prop your head up on one hand and frown slightly at him.

“You’ve been on my nerves for the past week now. Every time I try to talk you either cut me off or just shut me up with sex. You never clean up after yourself and laugh it off when I actually ask you to do something.”

He swallows hard and waits with bated breath for you to finish.

“You literally hounded me down for almost years to get married, and only a month after we actually get together you start acting out.”

You stare at him and he knows he can talk now.

“I’m…sorry. I’ll try to be, uh, better.” He finished lamely, and he cringes when he realized how pathetic his apology was.

But much to his surprise, a small little smile forms at your lips. Compared to how he never even acknowledged how big of an ass he usually is, this was a huge step in your relationship with him.

“Yeah, we’ll see. You better be on your best behavior for a while now.” And with that, you turn over and flop down into the plushy comforter.

Dabi let’s put a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the weight on his chest being lifted.

“So, uh…can I still like, touch..you?” He trails off, and you’re glad he can’t see the 50k watt smile on your face when he shifts uncomfortably.

“If you make it up to me, maybe.”

Dabi grins too.

“I don’t think you’ll ever have a problem with that.”

if he's a serial killer, then what's the worst that could happen to a girl who's already hurt?—

dabi x reader

wc: 9.5+

warnings: 18+, ATTEMPTED SEXUAL ASSAULT, explicit/crude language, reader is not doing well, angst, dabi is bad at feelings, also yandere by accident?

if he's as bad as they say, then i guess i'm cursed, looking into his eyes, i think he's already hurt—

The two of you hadn’t even been friends, not really.

It had been by some ridiculous coincidence that you attended Shizuoka Private School at the same time, in the same class and had the same peers. There was always an idiotic smile on your face; it made you seem so damn friendly that the other kids fought over you at lunch—who would you sit with today? But you sat with them last time! When was it my turn?

Even then you were pulled in different directions.

The two of you hadn’t been friends, only classmates. Sometimes he sat with you, sometimes he didn’t; more often than not he spent his time outside, counting out his breaths so he didn’t burn his stomach or his hands or his face—which is pretty fucking funny, in retrospect—but you talked to him, just like you did everyone. It wasn’t anything special.

A smile and a wave. How’s it going, Touya? Sure are working hard!

An offering, some of the leftover rice in the bento your dear mommy made you. Ugh, I’m so full! You need the energy, want it?

A chin perched on your knee, pulling them close to your chest as you watched him. That’s super cool! I bet you’ll be even better than your dad!

So fucking sweet. So fucking idiotic.

(He didn’t think that then. Nah, not back then.)

It always made you throw up, using that quirk of yours. Underneath the tree, the one in the front of the fence on the side of the school, he’d told you,

“You can be my sidekick! I’ll get them with Prominence Burn, and you get ‘em with Mind Freeze!”

There was blood in your teeth when you responded. “We’ll get the bad guys together!”

It’s not until after everything that he realizes what the problem is, not until you take that job in the hospital and put needles in veins and take temperatures and clean up shit that he realizes you can’t take it. Something about it ruining your own neurological whatever; if you had tried to be a hero, you wouldn’t have made it to your late-twenties. Brain would have ate itself, or something.

(In retrospect, he guesses that’s a good thing. If he ever ran into you out there, if he had to turn your bones to ash in an alleyway while you wore some cheesy spandex, you might not have recognized him—but you would have figured it out just before he carbonized you. You would have probed his mind all different ways, found everything out, even those things he shoves behind the door in his head.)

(Of course he could do it, smite you into fucking nothing, absolutely, no problem.)

Somehow you got blessed with good parents, the kind that supported whatever path you wanted, the kind that only exists in the movies. They said things to you like, “only if you want to” and “you can be just as much of a hero without your quirk”—which was a load of shit and you knew it. He knew it, too.

Those kids by the fence were supposed to be partners.

In retrospect, it’s pretty fucking funny. Every last bit of it.

The two of you hadn’t even been friends, not really, but you lit incense for him at least once a year. Most of the time on his birthday (he wasn’t sure how you figured that out; the idea that you went to his house to ask Enji was horrifying), but sometimes you wouldn’t show up that day. Sometimes you did it at Christmas, sometimes on Valentine’s Day. Sometimes on any random Saturday of the month.

Sometimes you showed up for a few weeks in a row.

So fucking sweet. So fucking idiotic.

Who the fuck even are you, anyway? Acting all sad and heartbroken because some kid from your class went and got himself incinerated to Hell. Acting like you cared, as if those conversations under the tree ever really meant anything. As if the future was ever gonna be up to him, as if he had any say. Acting as if you could ever do the Hero Thing, as if you had any say. As if the blood on your lips didn’t stain his when he kissed a girl at age ten, for the first time.

Grow up. Kids say shit they don’t mean all the time.

And without him, you had—grown up. After a while you stopped talking about him, stopped saying, “Oh, my friend Touya,” as if he was still there, waiting for you at the front of the school. You were an honor student, every year, and your parents bought you a car when you started high school. A normal one, not U.A. No one had figured it out yet, that your bouts of illness and fatigue, the Twice-sized migraines you got were all due to that quirk of yours, but you knew something was wrong. Even then.

Somehow you got blessed with good parents, the kind that paid your way through college, the kind that bought you a stethoscope as if you were gonna be some hot-shot doctor. So fucking stupid, in a world of quirks; someone could do what would take you hours, in seconds, but you still chose that job. Because you still wore that idiotic smile and people still flocked to you and you wanted to please everyone, just like always.

Yeah, he knew where you lived, but it’s not like he was a creep.

When he managed to unscramble his brain enough to use it, it was easy to find you. You lived in the same house you always did and he’d been over once, as Touya, and the curtains covering your windows were still pink, still had stars on them, when you were ten and when you were eighteen. Those parents of yours had to make a big ol’ deal of you moving out, to some shitty apartment closer to the hospital, closer to downtown, so it wasn’t hard for him to follow that moving truck.

And you still had those fucking curtains. Why wouldn’t you throw them away? Move on. Grow up.

To his complete horror, you kept a photo of him in the third drawer in your kitchen, the same photo Enji stared at. It was pathetic, all of it, how you kept him around and in your space. Sometimes you would open that drawer and see it and act surprised, as if you hadn’t put it there yourself, and you would say something stupid like, “How’s it going, Touya?” before grabbing what you needed and putting him back in the dark.

The two of you hadn’t even been friends, not really, and it was all so idiotic.

When one of your nurse friends asked about the picture, you told them everything. About the bento boxes and the tree, about the Hero to your Sidekick, about the one and only time he felt like a kid, in someone else’s home, while he watched some girly movie about a witch and her broomstick and a cat.

“—and my mom made me salmon, but he hates fish, so we threw it at a car in the school parking lot.”

Hates. As if he was still alive. As if you still cared. As if you could tell he was sitting against the wall in your dark bedroom, listening to every sip of that beer you took.

The worst part of it all was that you walked to and from work, like a big fucking fool. Mom and Pop bought you a car for a reason, stupid, and if you wanted to stay in shape so bad, you could just join a fucking gym, like the rest of the world. But no. You insisted, even when that cunt from the hospital cafeteria offered to drive you himself. “Fresh air is good for me,” you told him, which was a terribly lame response—one fit for you.

So fucking stupid, trying to be so perfect all the time.

The way you curled your hair and the careful hand you used to put on your makeup. If a bum on the street asked you for money, you’d come back from a coffee shop across the road with water and a sandwich, maybe even throw him a bill or two. People stopped you to ask for directions and you gave them, sometimes you would pay for the person in line behind you at some takeout place. If litter was on the ground, you’d carry it to the nearest trash can.

They told you that if you’d tried to do the Hero Thing, you’d be dead by twenty-three, and yet there you were, holding open the door for four people in a row with that smile, playing the good guy.

Grow up.

There were plenty of other women in his life better than you, women that understood his motivation, his rage, ones that left the door unlocked when he needed to get his rocks off. Some of those women had pierced nipples and wore spandex—not the cheesy kind—and let him do the whole BDSM thing because they liked it just as much as he did. They didn’t expect anything of him, they didn’t talk about him like he was still there or pretend to care. They liked him, Dabi (most of them, anyway, some of those fucking bitches couldn’t get over his appearance, but he didn’t care about them).

He didn’t care about any of that, least of all you. Least of all the skimpy dress you wore when that cafeteria cuck finally got your number, finally got the balls to take you out. Who cares that he brought you flowers and that you kissed him for it? It’s not some big, grand deal that a man took notes from a shitty romance flick to impress you. He didn’t care at all, because he was balls-deep in a girl he’d picked up at the bar, and it wasn’t some big deal that he pretended it was you moaning his name.

Yeah, you were kinda attractive. Whatever.

The two of you hadn’t even been friends, not really, and it wasn’t a big deal he watched you after that twelve hour shift you always pull. The walk home in the first place is dumb, but it’s nearly 3am and you’re stumbling on your feet (it’s your third night in a row, because, of course it is). The alleyways gets real dark, he knows this, and all it takes is for him to tip his head down and breathe in his nicotine for you not to notice.

There’s blood on your scrubs and you look tired, a different kind of tired than the one you usually wear, a sad-tired. All the mascara is gone from your eyes. Probably lost some poor bastard in the ER because you didn’t have a quirk that mattered, not in your profession, and now you’re crying because you’re soft.

People die. Touya did. Grow up. Throw away the picture.

It’s all so boring and lame, weariness eating at the edges of his own eyes, but he isn’t ready to go back to that shitty motel room he’s living out of. Toga is on his last damn nerve at the moment and Shigaraki is messing around with some losers, so he doesn’t care, not right now. The motel bed is broken and it creaks when he moves and he’s fucking over it, so that’s why he leans against the wall when you walk by, why he closes his eyes and lets the cigarette smoke swirl into the sky, and it’s why he doesn’t follow right behind you, not yet.

One would think he’d be familiar with the sound of a tire iron against a skull, but that isn’t really his style, so it’s only when you start coughing that he realizes something is weird. When he rounds that corner and looks down the sidewalk, the last thing he sees is the curtain of your hair disappearing into an alleyway too far from him.

“Fuck.”

He almost says your name out loud, he almost calls it out, but someone actually has the nerve to grab you right out from underneath him, so he’s shoving his hands in his pockets and hurrying down the sidewalk. The first thing he sees is one of your teeth (he kicks the other one and it clicks down the concrete, skittering over the curb and into the street) and then he sees the tiny pool of blood you’d spit up when you hit the ground.

Dabi isn’t some fucking pussy, so he really isn’t sure why it happens so slowly, why he lets it go so far. By the time the sound of your cries reach him, some fucker already has your scrub pants around your ankles and he’s slotting himself up against your ass, but you’re too out of it to really realize what’s happening. Blood is pouring over your eye and half your face is already bruised and knotted from where the metal struck you, but you’re awake.

Which is why he thinks this idiot hit you where he did, nowhere truly lethal, because some guys like when girls squirm.

You’re just moaning in pain, lying there while he looks at you in shock (someone is really doing this to you? Just out in the street like a fucking tool?) but you’re trying to drag yourself away, pretty nails scraping against the pavement without any real effort. When the alleyway begins to glow blue, you look up at him, and he sees the fear in your eyes when you meet his.

It’s ugly, but it’s over soon.

That alleyway fucking stinks now, with the smell of melted skin and hair and it’s too smokey for either of you to breathe. For some reason, you aren’t even screaming, which is absurd, because that’s what you’re supposed to do when someone attacks you, idiot. Your entire face is covered in ash and dirt and blood, sticking to the sweat pooling from you, and you’re still just rolling around like a headless chicken.

And for a moment, he isn’t really sure what to do.

For a moment, he has some idiotic thought, about gathering you up in his—

Nah, fuck that, he won’t even finish it.

There is a hospital up the street, your hospital, and they would probably find you soon enough. If he leaves right then, as you try and fail to reach for your pants, he could even run up there and call out about a woman in the alleyway. People flock to you; they love perfect, little, you, and they’ll find you. They’ll call the doctor with the quirk you don’t have and they’ll heal you. They’ll take care of you.

The two of you weren’t even friends, not really, but he won’t forget the way he felt when you used that shitty quirk of yours on him. As if someone was reaching in through his ears and his nose and poking around, trying their damndest to touch his brain with their fingers, and then it’s like a switch is turned on, one he didn’t realize was turned off.

Just before you vomit enough blood to knock you out, you gasp and reach a shaking hand out to him and then you say it. You say his name.

You say, “Touya, please.”

And then he has no choice but to entertain that fucking thought from before, because you’ve used that quirk and you’ve unlocked that door in his head and he’s the kid by the fence, under the tree, all over again.

At best, he should have left you for someone to find. Possibly should have left you for dead because he’s not ready yet, not for the big reveal. There is a timeline he’s working with, one that will hit Enji the hardest, and tonight isn’t the night for it to all start. You know the incense you’ve been burning has been for nothing, that the picture in your drawer is about as stupid as he’s always thought it was, and you know that Touya isn’t dead.

And no one is supposed to know, not yet.

Yeah, he knows where you live, but he can’t exactly climb the steps to your apartment with you, half-dead and covered in your own blood and grime, in his arms and expect none of the do-gooders in your building not to call the cops. The motel is gross, but it’s in a bad part of town; this sight sure isn’t the worst they’ve ever seen, will ever see.

Maybe he’ll get lucky and you’ll just die in this creaky bed. Then he can blame the blood stains and the smell for the reason he needs to change rooms. Nothing about you seems alive, except for the pulse racing in your neck, for the heartbeat in your chest that nearly comes out of your skin. For once in your life, you aren’t wearing that fucking smile, not looking with those bright eyes or batting your eyelashes. For once you’re finally quiet.

Dabi has patched himself up enough times to do this, but he hardly has anything with him that can help whatever the fuck is going on with you. Will you die from the wound to the head? Have a concussion? Are you gonna puke blood all over the sheets, like he wants you to? After he pulled your pants up, your underwear were still on and intact, no blood on your thighs, so he doesn’t think that asshole actually got anywhere with you.

It’s kinda pissing him off, how long it took for him to do anything.

Not that he cares.

The towels in the motel are shitty and scratchy. The water is lukewarm and never cold, but he wets a hand towel all the same and tries his best to wash the blood off your face, off your mouth and your neck. There is probably blood in your teeth, just like there always had been, but he’s not about to pry your lips open and brush them with his only toothbrush, so you’ll just have to figure that out whenever you wake up.

There is a sorry excuse for a first-aid kit under the leaking sink and thank fuck you’re knocked out, because he’s got to cauterize that wound on your forehead (you still stir a little bit and tears escape your closed eyes), but he puts a somewhat sticky band aid over it.

In retrospect, it’s pretty fucking funny; your perfect little face, finally marred.

When there is nothing left to do but wait for you to wake up, he just stares at you. For a long time. Longer than he’ll ever admit, even to himself. Because he hasn’t been this close, not since the tree or that time he sat next to you in your living room, while you shared onigiri and watched that dumb movie. Enji didn’t even know—he’d been too busy with Shoto to realize he hadn’t gone outside to train. He’d been too busy to realize Touya had slipped out of the yard and down the street, into a girl’s house for the first and last time.

When he thinks about you, sitting beside him and touching the white of his hair, with your soft hands and your shy little face, he leaves to go get water from the store around the corner. There’s hardly any money in his pockets, but he uses it all to buy as many bottles of water he can, and when he gets back, you haven’t moved an inch.

“Are you dead yet?” He doesn’t look at you when he asks, only sets the water on the wood-chipped table by the door and waits. It’s nearly 5 in the morning and he’s dead tired, but he just sits on the ground and waits some more. About an hour goes by and he checks your pulse again, just to be sure.

He’s half awake when your fingers start twitching, when you start whimpering in your sleep. The bed creaks when you shift on your back, moving your legs in discomfort as you start rolling around again, just like you did in the alley. When your eyes finally open, you blink at the ceiling for a long time (he doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath), before touching your head gingerly. At the first feel of the band aid on your forehead, tears immediately well up in your eyes and you let out a gasp, looking away from him and to the shitty bathroom.

Dabi is sitting beside the mattress on the ground, looking at you when you turn your head to him. Maybe you should scream, if you had the energy, maybe you should do what most people do when they see him and his fucking skin, the staples holding him all together. But you’re a big idiot, so you don’t. You only scan his face and look into his eyes (and he’s a man now and not a fucking kid, so he stares back), blink at him, just like you did the ceiling, and you don’t say anything for a long time.

It looks like there are a million thoughts running through your head and it’s pissing him off.

“Say something,” He spits, “Don’t just fucking stare at me like that.”

“Touya.”

“Don’t call me that.” No one has, not since the Hero and Sidekick days, not since Shizuoka Private School, not since Sekoto Peak. “And don’t ever fucking poke around in my brain again!”

"Am I dead?"

So fucking idiotic. "Unfortunately for me, no."

Your head is so heavy that when you try to sit up, it just lolls back on your shoulders, looking like it's gonna fall off and onto the sheets. After a minute of trying, you give up. "Are you dead?"

All your words are slurring. Maybe you are dying, after all.

"Unfortunately for me, no."

"Where am I?"

And you're still not screaming or freaking out, even though you'd been nearly whacked to death, nearly raped into the concrete. Even though a kid from your class—one you weren't even friends with—is alive right next to you, looking like someone left him in the oven too long.

Does he tell you where you are? Chances are, if you survive this thing, you'll report him to the police since you're such a goody-goody. A wannabe hero and all that. Once, he'd seen you carry an empty fast food bag for three fucking blocks because every trash can you found before then was full. Fucking pathetic.

On the bed, you're still shifting your legs and twitching. It doesn't seem like you realize it.

"Are you alright in there?" Maybe if he hits you upside the head, you'll stop. "'Cause you almost got your brains knocked out."

More tears. The skin on your forehead is real tight with that knot and your brows only pull down a hair. A big, fat pout. "What? What happened? Where am I?"

The scrub top is tucked into your pants because he'd been in a hurry to yank them up your legs, but you don't seem to notice. There's a good chance you don't even remember getting whacked, and the last thing he wants to do is pretend he cares enough to console you. So fucking soft, you'll definitely start crying if he tells you what nearly happened to you (seriously, what the fuck was he doing? Supposed to be some badass and it took him a solid six seconds to act. So annoying), so he won't.

"Some guy stole your purse."

That's not true, it's behind the toilet.

"What? Where is he?"

Dabi snorts and his eyes relax into an unimpressed stare. "Oh, well after he bludgeoned you, I thought I'd entertain a game of Shogi with him—where the fuck do you think he is? I lit him up like the Chinese New Year."

"Oh." Is all you say and then you're quiet. When he looks up from the stained carpet and back at your face, your eyes are closed and he snaps his fingers until you reopen them. "Am I dead?"

"No, now quit askin'."

Your equilibrium must be way off, because you try to raise your hand to touch your face but it just waves around near your right ear like you're drunk off your ass. When you try to sit up again, you manage it, but you still sway back and forth.

He still has no idea what to do. Finish the job already? Put you out of your misery?

The bed creaks every time you lean back and you swivel around dumbly to look down at it, down at him. That perfectly curled hair of yours is a wreck, all tangled in the back like some sort of bad sex hair, and in the light of the barely rising sun, he can see parts of blood he missed. You don't smile that smile, so he doesn't know if it's in your teeth. Probably is.

Maybe you aren't gonna croak right then, because you look at the door, the chipping paint on the walls, the who-knows-what colored stain on the carpet. You look at the water on the table, at the shitty desk, the flickering light outside the bathroom. Then him.

"Can I have some water, please?"

Please.

Oh, shut the fuck up.

Dabi gives it to you anyway, even unscrews the cap for you like some kind of gentleman, like some kind of hero you or he could never be. Half of it spills out of your mouth and runs all down your shirt, like you have no idea how to work your lips anymore. When it dribbles down your chin, he can see it's pink.

Every time you blink your eyes, they get heavier and heavier, one closing and opening before the other.

Maybe you are really dying, right there in some shitty motel room with the ghost of a kid you kinda knew. Those parents of yours will probably lose it, maybe your mom will even off herself when they find your body, decaying on this creaky bed. But he'll be long gone by then. And he doesn't care.

In retrospect, it's pretty fucking funny. Touya will come back and you won't.

It takes you three attempts to stand, holding yourself up with a weak hand on the bed. The second attempt has you nearly falling on your face back into the mattress, ass all up in the air like it had been in the alleyway. When you take an unsteady step forward, he jumps up, just in case you're faking it and are gonna make a run for the door.

But you don't, you just look at him and say it again. "Touya."

"Don't call me that."

"Am I dead?"

It takes him three steps to cross the distance between you and him, and he grabs your face in his hand, squishing your cheeks together and making you look at all the burnt parts of him. "I wouldn't be here if you were dead, you idiot. Stop asking."

More tears. That pout again.

Oh boo fucking hoo, he's being mean. Grow up.

Thoughts are flashing in your eyes again but you're not saying anything, you might not even know how to anymore. He shakes your face a little before letting go and you stumble into him, like the grip of his hand had been the only thing keeping you upright.

"I miss you."

The two of you hadn't even been friends, not really, not at all. The tree had been cut down, Shoto was the hero he was supposed to be, and you were fucked up, dying out in the middle of nowhere. Nothing is how it was supposed to be.

Maybe if he cared about anything other than himself, he would be worried about you, drooling like that because you can't keep your mouth closed. Maybe if he cared, he would give a shit about seeing your face up close and he would admit he's been watching it for too long, seeing how it changes and gets prettier every year, seeing the woman you grew up to be. Maybe if he cared, he would even say something stupid, like that it meant something to him that he meant something to you. Maybe he'd even smile, let you touch him, maybe he'd even bury his face in your neck and tell you he missed you, too.

But Dabi doesn't care, not a bit.

So he holds you at an arm's length, face twisting into that crazy snarl he gets sometimes. Miss, like he was still alive. Like you were the dead one, imagining it all in whichever layer of Hell you ended it up. What a load of shit.

"Get off me!"

When he steps back away from you, you catch yourself on the wall, turning so that your back is leaning against it. Your eyes close again, but he can see that they're rolling behind your lids, even as you slump down to the ground. All the blood left on you has dried and it comes off in flakes when you itch at your hairline, at your jaw, underneath your chin. There is dirt and maybe some leftover skin, a little bit of gravel, all embedded under your nails and pressed against your neck, which you finally seem to realize.

"I'm...disgusting."

"Yeah."

That pretty little head of yours looks like it weighs a ton, but you raise it so your eyes can meet his, and, he's not close enough to tell, but is one of your pupils dilated? That band aid is hardly clinging to your forehead and at the touch of your fingers, it just gives up, falls off and into your lap. It stretches between your fingers and you look at it like you've never seen one before.

"I don't feel good."

No fucking shit. That first aid kit has a small package of expired Acetaminophen—whatever the fuck that is—and he gives it to you, though you choke while trying to swallow it.

It takes you another few attempts to get to your feet, but you finally do and he steps out of your reach again. "I need to shower."

A laugh actually barks out of him. "This water'll probably poison you."

Maybe your ears are clogged with blood or something, because you just repeat yourself. "I'm gross, I need to take a shower, please."

Please.

Fine, if you want to die with a yeast infection, go right ahead.

Dabi has seen your tits before—not on purpose—but you don't know that, so he tries to be a gentleman and at least act like he's not looking when you peel that dingy scrub top off, when you nearly fall down trying to get out of your sports bra.

He does look when you ask him for help, though.

There is no way you can stand up by yourself in the fucking shower, and you want this UTI so damn bad, so he just runs a lukewarm bath. The water splutters and comes out at all different kinds of pressure, but you don't slip when you step in, so he just leaves you to it.

Maybe you'll drown in there—though this shitty tub isn't really big enough for you to do that—and it will all be over painlessly. Then he won't have to hold a pillow over your face or burn your flesh off while you scream and writhe.

No problem, he could absolutely do it.

Maybe he'll just come back and you'll finally be done twitching, looking as peaceful as you do when you sleep, underneath that blood-tinged water.

After it happened, Dabi wanted to kill you. Like actually kill you. A whole lotta people, everyone he knew, really, but you were somewhere near the top of the list.

Maybe because you made him feel something once, maybe because the little charm bracelet you gave him was the first thing that turned to ash at Sekoto Peak. Maybe because, if he couldn't rise up and do the Hero Thing, then he didn't want you to do it, either.

(Which, in retrospect—)

There wasn't gonna be any big show, no flames or anything, just him and his hands. It lulled him to sleep most nights, out there on the street, thinking of the ways he would do it. He planned to slip through those pink star curtains of yours and wake you up—because he wanted to see the light leave your eyes—and then he'd wrap his hands around your throat and squeeze until your eyes fucking popped. Maybe he'd even kiss your gasping lips again.

There was a time when he wanted it so bad, that it was almost hard to distinguish that desire from reality. Some days he would wake up and he wouldn't think about shoving his thumbs in your eyes, because, he'd already done it, hadn’t he? They'd already buried you, the world had already moved on without perfect, little you. Dabi sure had, Touya sure had.

Guess that's why you're still alive (well, somewhat) in that bathroom and he's just sitting against the door, waiting for the sound of you to start gurgling or something. Somehow he just forgot to kill you, became too wrapped up in a plan for Enji. If he pictures that list in his mind, you were number 4 or 5, but he'd never made it past the first name.

It kinda pisses him off.

There hasn't been any sounds, none. Not even of you moaning or crying, no water splashing as you drowned or even washed yourself. Just silence, from the minute you sat down in that tub. It's been at least 30 minutes and that lukewarm water must finally be cold, but you haven't said anything. You've got to be dead. You've got to be.

Maybe he can cross your name off that list, after all.

The scene from the alleyway keeps replaying in his mind and he's finally figured out why it makes him feel so sick: if he had followed behind you in the first place, you wouldn't have gotten whacked. And if you hadn't gotten whacked, he wouldn't have needed to bring you back to his base of operations here, in the fucking decaying motel room, and you wouldn't know he was alive. There would be no chance for his plan to be ruined because you'd be at home, in bed or actually taking a shower or something, and things would be safe. His plan would be safe.

That's why the sight of you there, bloody and beaten, half naked on the ground, makes his stomach hurt and twist in all different ways.

That's why the sight of you in here, disoriented and fading, blood hemorrhaging in your brain, makes him nervous.

That's why. No other reasons.

Still doesn't explain why he hesitates with his hand on the door, thinking of seeing you naked with far away glassy eyes, but, fuck it, Dabi doesn't have time to figure that out, too. Now he's got to get rid of your body, throw it in the dumpster out back or something before people start to notice you've gone missing.

When he opens that door, his lungs seize up as he looks at you.

But after a few, still moments, your still-filthy head swivels to look at him and he breathes (in disappointment, damn it).

"What the fuck?" He says, but your expression doesn't change. "I thought you needed a bath."

There is still a layer of dirt and grime on your chest and face, all the places the water didn't rise to meet because you didn't sink down underneath it. It's been a big fucking waste of time, leaving you in there, because now it's after 6 and you're as wrinkly as a fucking raisin and still alive and he still doesn't know what to do.

"I do." When you swallow, it sounds like your throat is as dry as his skin. Probably left your mouth open this whole time, just staring at the peeling paint on the wall.

"Then why didn't you take one?"

"My arms are heavy."

"Mother of—fuck!"

So fucking stupid. So fucking idiotic. The water is an ugly color, similar to the stain out on the carpet, and he reaches his hand right down in between your legs to pull the plug. It's the first time he's felt the water being cold and, so close to you, he realizes you're shivering. Teeth chattering, shoulders shaking, lips turning a little blue, all because you'd just sat in the damn tub for too long.

"Get the fuck—stand up." Though he says it, he knows you aren't gonna do it, so he just puts his hands under your armpits and hauls you to your feet. The second he lets go, you nearly tumble sideways out of the tub and he doesn't want to clean up anymore blood, so he stops you from bashing your head on the tile.

But he should have let you, oh boy, he should have let you do it. Then he wouldn't be in this stupid situation anymore.

This fucking situation, where he's standing in a grimy tub as water swirls around his feet, as you dampen all of his clothes with your pruned body. Dabi has been in a lot of bad situations, but this one takes the fucking cake.

"Like taking care of a fucking baby," He mutters, and he's looking at the shower-head and the knobs, he's looking at the water draining in the tub and feeling the coldness seeping into his socks, into his skin from his wet clothes.

It's fucking pointless now, might as well.

The rings of the shower curtain rattle when he pulls it closed, the water is lukewarm when it sprays him directly in the face and he jerks back, blinking it out of his eyes as you sigh against his chest. It doesn't stop you from shivering, but the little bit of heat against your back has you curling, arching like a cat and nearly purring at the warmth of it.

It's pathetic.

Almost as pathetic as him standing fully clothed, holding up a half-dead girl in the shower, some girl from his class. One he wasn't even friends with.

"Touya."

"I said don't call me that."

The two of you stand in silence for a while, your cheek against his chest, his hands under your arms. The front of his hair has flattened against his forehead and every now and then, a dark drop of water drips down on your nose and leaves an inky trail. Dabi has this thought, a scary one, that a lot of things are going to come clean in this shitty shower.

The giant sighs you heave are the only way he knows you aren't dead. And you're a fucking liar, because those oh so heavy arms of yours are raising, he can feel your hands at his hips, dragging up over his tightened stomach and at his chest. Then you loop your feather-light arms around his back and shuffle just a bit on your feet, like the two of you are just hugging, like friends.

"Why’re you wearing clothes?"

Dabi snorts and rears his head back, but you don't look up at him. "Because I've got a massive hard on and you're not in there"—he taps his finger against the top of your sopping wet head—"enough for me to fuck."

That's not true, he's not the slightest bit aroused by you.

In this state, at least; okay, so yeah, maybe he didn't look at your tits on purpose, but it was in the spank bank now. Get over it.

The last thing he wants is to be naked with you, anywhere near you. Maybe if he cared about something other than himself, he could admit that the very idea terrified him. Not even in this failing state of mind would you laugh at him, or be grossed out or scared. You'd probably still put your hands in his hair, still touch his face, put yours against his chest.

And no one has ever touched him that way, not the way you would.

"Then don't." You say, like it's the simplest thing in the world.

"Yeah, so," For some reason he feels awkward now, thinking of it all and it's so stupid. "I'm not taking my clothes off."

That knot is still budding on your forehead, so your brow still doesn't pull down very far when you look up at him. A big pout is on your lips, though. "No, I—I mean, then don't take them off."

"Yeah...I'm not gonna."

"Wait," One of your hands leaves his back to rub at your rolling eyes. Maybe he should keep talking to you; it makes you use your brain and maybe it will pull you out of this state.

Not that he really wants that, of course.

"No, I meant, you don't have to have sex with me."

"Yeah, I'm not gonna." Fuck, he knows you got your brain turned upside down, but you can't comprehend anything, it seems. You must realize you're having a hard time making sense because you give a little sigh, like you're giving up, and just wrap yourself back around him, a little closer this time.

The two of you are both soaked, no matter how far he tries to lean out of the water, and he wonders if you can feel the texture of his skin underneath his wet clothes. For a moment his brain shuts off, just like yours is currently doing, and he wonders what you think of him like this. Doesn't really matter though, he tells himself, you're going in the dumpster all the same.

The water from the shower-head is starting to get a little colder and he's not perfect, little Shoto, doesn't know how to use the fire for anything other than killing and melting, doesn't know how to use it just to warm you up. There's no telling how much time has passed with the two of you just standing there, like idiots.

"Gotta wash my hair." You say.

"So, wash it." He says.

"My arms are heavy."

"You're so full of shit."

Dabi thinks, he thinks, that he feels your lips shift against his shirt, like they're curling into a smile because you know you're a liar, too. And you must be using your quirk or something (though he doesn't feel any fingers in his nose or ears, not like before) because he does what he shouldn't and would never do, which is bend around you and grab the snot green bottle of motel shampoo that's sitting in the corner of the tub.

Eucalyptus, it says. That's all.

It should be called Push Over or Pathetic, maybe Burnt Idiot, Not Really Friends, Sorry I Looked At Your Ass, Too.

Maybe Nervous.

When he dumps all of it onto your hair and starts digging his fingers against your scalp, you tilt your head enough so that he can see that smile of yours, the bloody one.

"I'll wash yours," You say, with copper breath and dark red gums.

When he kissed you under the tree, your breath smelled the same. He had been so afraid then, of a multitude of things: getting caught by his teacher or his dad, classmates seeing, messing up or embarrassing himself, you, mostly you. There were other kids in his class he talked to, sure, but none of them sat outside with him when he trained on his own. None of them shared their rice and threw salmon at cars or held his hand while he turned his face—red as his fucking hair—at the grass because he couldn't look you in the eye.

Sometimes Enji kissed his mother. Sometimes she looked like she liked it. Back then, he thought maybe you would, too. He didn't know he had blood on his bottom lip until he got home and Enji asked him about it, until Rei inspected it like he'd bit it by accident. But he couldn't tell them, didn't tell them that all of it, every moment with you, had been on purpose.

Dabi feels a lot like he did then, when you smile at him.

“Ain’t none left.” For some reason, it croaks out of him, like he’s the one with the issue keeping his mouth closed. Maybe blood is still in your ears because you don’t answer, you only keep your face titled towards him as he massages your scalp, lips open just slightly with closed eyes. As if to prove it, he throws the tiny, empty bottle back towards the corner of the tub and it clatters, loudly, the way all things do in the shower. When you open your eyes and look at him, unfocused and half-lidded, he thinks maybe he could fuck you in this bathroom, if you wanted him to.

He hopes you don’t ask.

There isn’t any soap on your hands, but they leave his back to go into his hair. A ghost of a laugh puffs out of your lips and into his face, like it’s the funniest thing in the world, you, pretending to wash his hair while he washes yours.

A bunch of idiots, the both of you.

“Stop,” Dabi tries to yank his head away from you, but you sway a little bit. You don’t push him, though because you’re a goody-goody, and when you run a hand across your face, there is a light gray smudge over your nose. All his hair dye is washing down the drain, lightening him up, making him Touya again. The soap washes off one of his hands as he rinses it directly under the water and he wipes the smudges from your face, a little rough, too rough, so rough that your head easily moves from the left to the right with each swipe of his fingers. Underneath his hands, you’re really soft. Too soft.

The walls of the shower are closing in on him and that sick feeling is building in his stomach again, the one that swirls every time he thinks about what could have happened to you in the alleyway if he’d waited another stupid fucking minute. Such a baby, so fucking soft, what that kind of aggression would do to you. How it would impact you. How it would impact him. That dopey, bloody smile wouldn’t appear on your face for a long time, he might not have even seen it again before everything with Enji finally went down.

It’s probably too drying for your face, but he uses the shampoo to wash yours, rubbing against the blood stains on your chin and your neck. They come away easily, the texture from his hands perfect for scrubbing it all away.

The way he can finally be of use to you, as a fucking loofa.

“Touya,” You say again, but he doesn’t correct you this time. “Am I dead?”

That sick feeling builds, really builds, until it feels like he’s holding his breath (he probably is). There is a settling wave that washes over him, just like the cold water from the shower-head, and he realizes, holy fuck, you’re dying.

Right there in his arms. Blood is probably pooling in your brain, killing you every moment that he waits. The hour he spent watching you writhe on the bed, the 30 minutes he spent outside the bathroom, the few blocks it took to get from the alleyway to the motel room. The time he’s wasting here with you, now. All of it is just him, opening that dumpster, digging a deeper hole to put you in. The star curtains will come down, the cafeteria fucker will drive himself to work alone, the homeless guy will shrivel into nothing, and litter will fill the streets.

Just like the doctor said; if you tried to do the Hero Thing, you’d be dead by twenty-three.

When he’d unscrambled his brain enough to think straight, he planned to take Enji down. Since then, he’s lulled himself to sleep with the idea of it, the downfall of Endeavor, and, if he lets you go, it will just be the downfall of crazy, batshit insane Touya. All of it will crash and burn with him. It’s probably too late for you anyway, too much time has been wasted, and it would all be for nothing.

All the fucking pain, all the rage and the planning, all the blood and sweat and tears would swirl down a shitty motel drain like his hair dye. And you’d end up in that dumpster all the same.

“No,” He answers, tipping your head back so the shampoo can wash out of your hair, off your forehead and chest. There’s more words in his mouth, like not yet and almost and i’m sorry, but his throat feels all croaky again, so he doesn’t say anything.

Dabi only has one change of clothes. Water is dripping off him and all over the floor when the two of you step out, when he wraps that shitty towel around you and rubs up and down your arms, like some kind of idiot out of a romance movie. He even runs it over your head a few times, hair getting all ruffled up, and he grabs the spare sweater by the bed when you smile lazily at him.

He wonders how much time he has. Maybe if he knew, he would say something. But he doesn’t, so there’s no fucking point.

The air in the motel room is stuffy and has never been cold, but, drenched in shitty, piss-water, it chills him to the bone. Now he’s the one shivering while you lay back down on the bed, creaking and shit, and he just stands over you and watches you blink, one eye at a time. One of your pupils is definitely dilated.

The two of you hadn’t even been friends, not really, but you fix those fading eyes on him and open your arms, inviting him to lay with you.

(When he came over to watch that movie, he’d been nervous, but you had a blanket on your lap and you opened it to him, patting the space beside you with that smile until he felt comfortable enough to scoot closer to you, to share that blanket.)

He wonders how much time he has, but he’s got no fucking idea, so he just does it.

Yeah, he’s soaking wet and you’ve just put on his warm sweater, but this is his first chance, his last chance, to be this close as the man he grew up to be. He’s just Touya and you’re just you, lying in a shitty motel, waiting for the end. There’s a vision in his head, of you and him, of what might have been. There isn’t a mark on him, all smooth skin and soft, just like you, and you’re lying in a motel room, the both of you, naked. Maybe you’re still young, in high school, hiding from his parents just like he had been that day under the tree. Maybe you’re adults, this age, getting away for the weekend, away from the Hero Thing.

It’s a disgusting thought, one that has his lips curling down, one that has him choking on the ugliness of it all. It’s no use wanting like that, when your body is getting quieter and quieter, when you try to say his name again but can’t get the words around your lips. Maybe you’ve forgotten it.

When you're silent for a long time, he lifts his head from where he’s buried it in your neck, but your mouth is open, staring at the ceiling.

“Finally,” He pants, “Finally you’re fucking dead. Finally you’re out of my fucking hair and my life.” When you don’t respond, he snaps his fingers in front of your face. “Hey!”

But now you’re just a corpse. Now he’s just clinging to the body of a kid he used to know, one from his class, one he hadn’t even been friends with.

The picture he sets up is one from the hospital website, your employee picture. At some internet cafe, he’d printed it off, paid the extra change just to get it in color, and he’s lighting the incense (and his cigarette) with the blue tip of his finger. There are a bunch of pink flowers around this place, though most of them are fake, and he can sit out in front of the grave without a hood on. It’s so far at the back that someone would have to want to come back there to find him, which is why he’s sitting there in the first place.

Dabi isn’t really all that interested in the cigarette; he’s just leaving it between his lips, letting the smoke swirl in front of his face, letting the ash fall into his lap.

“How’s it going?” He grunts, just like you would say.

Every time he thinks of you in that shower, his stomach hurts again. How close you’d been, how real you felt under his fingers. The smudge of his hair dye across your face, claiming you in a way, like you were his. As if you’d always been, ever since Shizuoka.

Maybe he’s got it all wrong, maybe he’d always been yours. Every time he sat in the tree outside your window, every time he slipped through it, every time he followed you after work, lingering back like an ugly shadow. All that time, he’d always been yours. In the shower, in the bed, breathing you in as you died.

Always yours.

It’s a big, fat weight that should be lifted from his shoulders. Now he’s back with the League, that plan for Enji is in motion, and he doesn’t have to make up an excuse to Twice about why he’s gotta slip out at night, why he’s gotta head across town, why he suddenly wants takeout. There’s no following anymore, that’s been given up. And yet, now he feels like he’s got too much time on his hands, too much space in his chest. Scars on his body feel too rough, there is an insecurity he can’t beat back anymore, he spends too much time thinking about the what-if’s, which is too dangerous for a man in his profession.

It’s all making him soft, just like you had been. It feels like a fucking sickness.

Toga notices, because she’s so love-drunk on everyone that she can read his face as plain as day.

“Ooooh, you’re thinking about a girl!”

Yeah, maybe, but it's still annoying; he’d always been thinking about this girl, Toga wasn’t special for just now figuring it out.

Sometimes he wishes he’d gotten that sweater back. Not because it was comfortable or fit over his chest just right, but maybe because it might smell like you. Or the Eucalyptus shampoo. He’s a pathetic piece of shit, thinking crap like this, but it feels like a somewhat sticky band aid has fallen off, like that door in his head is open just a crack. Like it’s stuffed with too much stuff to get closed again.

It’s a fucking sickness, seriously. All those years away, too many steps behind, had kept the germs from him, made him feel like he was immune to it all, to your charm.

(That’s a load of shit, truly; he’d followed you for 11 fucking years after all. Dabi wasn’t immune to squat.)

The grave is so far at the back that someone would have to mean to come find him and he hears the footsteps far before they reach him, which should send him running, but it doesn’t. His hair is still white because he hadn’t found the energy to re-dye it, and if Toga says one more fucking thing about it—

There isn’t a blanket to hold open, no need to pat the space beside him; you sit so close, you’re nearly on his lap.

“How’s it going, Touya?”

Okay, so yeah, maybe he’d run out of that motel room like a man possessed, cradling you in his arms and whining like a fucking pussy, but whatever.

That doctor with the quirk you don’t have loves you, just like all your little nurse friends do, and they must have dropped everything for you. Not that he stayed inside or anything, just had to yell a little and lay your body on the front desk before hauling ass back outside, but you were knocking on the motel room door that night. Looking for him, actually looking, with focused eyes, pupils that were the same size.

The scar on your head was small (which is a load of shit; just a little bitty one? Come the fuck on) and shaped a little bit like a strike of lightning against your skin. Probably needed to stay home and in bed for a few days, not make any sudden movements or flip the light switch on too quick, but you were standing there, in that sweater, before he’d fallen asleep.

No, he didn’t fuck you.

He would’ve though, if you’d asked. Kinda wished you had.

Dabi has seen you twice a week for 11 embarrassingly long years, but you’ve seen him for half a day. There’s a lot for you to understand, a lot of things to catch up on, which he thinks is why you hadn’t gone to the police. Not such a goody-goody after all; when he’d told you that, you looked confused and a little hurt.

“What makes you think I’d give you up so easily?”

He doesn’t really mention it after that.

There are a lot of things you don’t understand, a lot of things you won’t understand. Lots of things he won’t tell you, but you’ll be there. Yeah, he knows where you live, and yeah, you said you’d leave the door unlocked (probably shouldn’t though).

You’ll be there whenever he decides to show up, or rather, he’ll be there, for you, whenever you want him. Because he’s yours.

Always has been.

Initiation

So... that one anon on Jo's page asking for Dabi and Bakugou smut. It uh accidentally happened. This was in continuation to the whole biker au thing. @lady-bakuhoe Jo I can't believe we deadass wrote a whole ass smut fic in discord 💀💀💀

All characters 18+

Biker au. Dabi x reader x Bakugou Katsuki

Warnings: Sexy time themes. Dub/con, fisting, recording and probably bad grammar. Well we thought you guys would enjoy this so here ya go ^.^:

Fuck couldn't add them all text continued here:

Jo:

“Fuck, so fucking tight.” Bakugou growled, your tight hole preventing him from getting his length all the way in. You clenched desperately around his length at the intrusion, a burning sensation filling your lower half as Bakugou landed a harsh smack to your rear, “calm the fuck down, otherwise it’s gonna hurt so much more.”

Bakugou leaned back to spit on your asshole, leaning back as his length slipped out of you before pushing forward again. Trying to sheath himself fully inside you. “Just force it in, I can tell she fucking wants it,” Dabi held the camera towards your face, capturing your pained expression as he weaved a hand into your hair, pulling your head back, “isn’t that right, doll? You knew what you were doing when you let us in. You fucking wanted this, didn’t you?”

You tried to splutter out an excuse, a denial but Bakugou’s cock continued to press inside your tight asshole, filling you and making it hard for you to think straight “filling your virgin asshole up, hah.” He groaned when he was finally buried to the hilt inside your tight rear, his hands moving back to squeeze your cheeks as he took the phone back off Dabi, angling it towards where your bodies were connected. Using his hand to spread one of your cheeks so he could capture his cock disappearing inside your tight little hole. “I’m gonna make you a gaping fucking mess, Princess.” Bakugou gave your ass a smack, watching the skin jiggle as he worked his hips against you, feeling you squeeze around his cock. “Gonna paint those walls white with my cum. Fill your slutty asshole right up.”

You mewled at his words, biting down on your lower lip to try and block out the throbbing pain. Dabi was sick of being ignored as he moved back to slap his wet cock back against your cheek, pressing down on your lips to try and get you take him back inside, but you shook your head in defiance. This was too much. They’d lied to you, what if your father came home and saw you like this? Dabi grunted, moving his hand down to squeeze your nose, blocking off your airway. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, doll. The hard way is gonna hurt a lot more.” His hand weaved its way around your neck, holding tight until your mouth opened gasping for air.

Unable to get your fill as Dabi has already thrust his cock back inside your wet heat. “Shit. Look at you. The perfect little cock slut.” He began to laugh as he held your hair, thrusting himself into your mouth at a brutal pace, “not so innocent anymore, are we?”

Monst: Bakugou groaned at the sight of Dabi's cock bulging against your throat. He reached out his hand clasping it around your throat Dabi groaned hunching over as he aimed to drown you in his semen. Bakugou never thought he'd enjoy using someone like this. But you looked so fucking perfect ruined like this. You only let out muffled whines and tremors as they abused your holes. And as Bakugou slammed into you he moved his fingers and dipped them inside of your slick cunt. He felt you clench down on them and snickered.

"Your about to cum again aren't you? H-here you were pretending to be innocent and your about to cum from me fucking your ass." He mocked.

"Ngh you fucking slut. What would your old man say huh?" Dabi goaded his hips stuttered. He came with a grunt, his cum slipping down your throat. He stayed lodged in your mouth talking the phone from the new recruit; waiting for Bakugou to paint your walls white. And when you felt his nails dig into your hip you knew he was close. His hand that would occasionally come down on your ass went to the other hip as he continued his frantic pace.

It was then that Dabi moved being gracious enough to offer you another orgasm by rubbing shapes into your clit. Bakugou's hot seed filled your insides moments later. And Dabi pulled out of your mouth to hear you cry out as you came. He let your head fall against the floor as he moved around your body to record. He spread your lips zooming in on your empty contracting cunt. He felt himself start to grow stiff agian when Bakugou pulled out and his cum sloshed out of you.

True to his word Bakugou left you gaping. And Dabi's fingers moved to push the milky liquid back into your hole. He didn't know how to end the recording and just cut it off after closing in on your face.

You all panted to regain your breaths when you finally spoke.

"Fuck Dabi I don't think I've ever been this stretched out." You moaned as you sat up.

He didn't answer turning to dig into the fidge. Bakugou was confused when he handed you a cold one.

"Bakugou meet (Name). (Name) this is Bakugou." Dabi introduced opening a can and tossing one to the blonde.

"What the fuck is going on?" He asked annoyed.

"Initation." You answered casually reaching over to open a cabinet. You shuffled through it and pulled out a bag handing it over to the blonde. "Most people pussy out. But I'm glad you didn't. We should do this again some time" you winked standing up on wobbly legs.

"Hold up? What about your father?" He asked still confused.

"He hasn't been around for ages." You mused. "But daddy did tell me not to open the door." You grinned.

"And that's why you got punished for it you fucking slut." Dabi added.

Bakugou wanted to rage at the trick but when he looked down to the bag he grinned. He understood that they couldn't let just anyone join and at least he got a good fuck out of it. And more importantly he was now part of 'Endeavor's demise'.

"You guys wanna go again?"

Bully

Bully!Dabi x F!Reader Series

Warnings: +18 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! This series contains: HEAVY Noncon, smut, bullying, manhandling, penetration, binding, threatening, creampie, breeding kink degradation, humiliation, abuse, violence, anxiety, spoilers, trauma, bruises, choking, spit play, cussing, dirty talk, oral sex (m.receiving) cum swallowing, semi public, noncon selfie, mention of alcohol, manipulation

Summary: After joining the League of Villains, you started facing bullying from a certain arsonist. Little by little the harassment grew to the point of physical violence that culminated to you being his personal fucktoy.

A.N.: If there’s any warnings missing, please let me know! 

Disclaimer: Characters mentioned belong to Kohei Horikoshi

Part 1.

Part 2.

Part 3.

Part 4. 

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9 

BETRAYAL

a/n: happy (belated) birthday my burnt chicken nugget. also @ninjamomo is my personal hype-woman so thank her for this too, thank you

warnings: prohero!reader; literal m*rder; major character death; dabi’s real name; choking; violence; swearing; 4k of angst

“i should have seen this coming,” dabi snarled, his black boot pressing onto your chest as he towered over you, hands in his pockets, “i should’ve known”

you stared up at his dark figure, eyes narrowing at him. the damp ground underneath you was cold, you could feel your clothes absorbing some of the water, sticking against your skin. pebbles pressed against your back, the weight of the villains foot drove them deeper into your body with every passing second.

“any last words, hero?”

you couldn’t see how he had his fists clenched, fingernails digging deep into his skin. he looked at you with hatred, disgust — a look you knew he would send you sooner or later and yet hurt so much.

would he believe you if you said you didn’t want this? would he believe you if you said you never wanted it to be like this? would he believe any word that would hush over your busted lip anymore?

“you don’t have to do this,” you replied calmly, completely contradicting your irregular heartbeat and pressed breaths.

you looked up at his hunched form, his jacket flowing due to the slight wind in the alley. dabi held his head high, his eyes looking at you with disgust and hate.

it has always been only a matter of time until you‘d be subjected to this look of his — a look that was reserved for his enemies and everybody else that would even dare to stand in his way. it was inevitable, obvious that one day you‘d be on the receiving end, you had told yourself this the moment you first came in contact with him. dabi was a villain, a threat to society, a threat to every person that was just peacefully living their life. he was your enemy.

you couldn’t die here. you had a responsibility, a duty to protect the people of this town, this country.

and yet you failed, disappointing everyone in the process. your colleagues, the commission, the civilians. your friends, your family.

“maybe i don’t. but i fucking want to,” the villain huffed through his clenched teeth, putting more of his bodyweight onto your chest, making you wince in pain, “theres nothing i want more than to see you cry out in pain, begging for me to make it stop. to put you out of your misery”

you should have never agreed to this mission, not like you had a choice anyways; not like you would’ve declined anyways. they needed you and who were you to turn your back on them?

looking back, you maybe should have. maybe then you wouldn’t be here with an infamous villain threatening you — killing you. you wouldn’t leave anybody behind, you wouldn’t have violated your duty and you wouldn’t have betrayed your colleagues and your cause.

you wouldn’t have played with the thought to turn your back on them.

how did it get this far?

the weight on your chest lifted and you greedily sucked in a deep breath, filling your lungs with air. yet before you could take in another, you were forcibly grabbed by the shoulders and pulled up, your back soon crashing into a brick wall. you pressed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to not wince in pain.

“maybe i should just set you on fire right here, right now,” dabi continued, one hand on your throat as he stretched the other one out dramatically, “do you think your little hero friend would manage to save you in time?”

you clenched your jaw, hands weakly pulling on the one on your throat.

he turned back to you, his second hand now also closing around your throat, pushing you further into the cold wall, a sadistic smile on his lips. “he’s supposed to be the fastest one after all, isn’t he?”

you kept quiet however, only struggling against the villain‘s hold. you could feel his hands heating up on your skin, eyes slightly widening when you felt the rise in temperature.

“i’m curious”

how could you let it get so far? how could you allow yourself to fall so deep, to betray everyone and mostly betray yourself? and how were you even supposed to live with yourself after this — if you somehow managed to get out of this hopeless situation, that is.

“then kill me. kill me right now and find out,” you managed to reply, keeping your eyes on his face. you knew that you had no way of possibly getting out of this. dabi knew what you did, he knew who you were and he knew why you were with the league, with him. and no matter what, there was no way dabi would forgive you for this.

yet you couldn’t stop yourself from hoping that he would.

the villain tilted his head, his heated hands cooling down. he scoffed. “so willing to die after all?”

no. yes. maybe. you weren’t sure.

no, you didn’t want to die. but could you live on like this, knowing what you did, knowing what you had thought? could you continue your life like this, mentally trying to convince yourself that you did the right thing, that you did what you had to, that no matter what, you did your duty and your duty as a hero came first. waking up every morning to the blank ceiling in your home, your blanket wrapped around your legs, as you tried to believe the mantra you repeated to yourself every day.

how could you stay a hero, smiling at clueless civilians, saving them from villains, knowing that you were no better? knowing that you had considered leaving your hero self behind, leaving your entire life behind? knowing how your entire life you romanticized a flawed and corrupt system and even chose to become a part of it?

but did any of this even matter? at the end of the day, it wasn’t your choice, wasn’t it? your life laid in the hands of the villain in front of you whose hands were literally on your throat.

you closed your eyes in resignation. maybe it was for the best, you thought, slowly coming to terms with your reality. was this your punishment for betraying your morals? “if you could do me one last favor? do it quick”

dabi slightly furrowed his eyebrows. he didn’t want to admit it, but this was the first time he had seen you so passive. it wasn’t like you to not fight, to not yell, to act so defeated. where was your fire, your passion? how dare you not fight back? how dare you be so dejected? you were supposed to give him everything you got, you were supposed to show him just why and how you became a hero, you were supposed to protect yourself and defend yourself, your honor, your pride? how dare you to give him nothing?

how dare you to betray him for nothing?

“give me one reason why i should” dabi clicked his tongue, squeezing your throat. “one fucking reason”

he wanted to hear you plead, beg for your life. give him any reason, your duty, your family, friends, anything and he wouldn’t care. he wanted you to be hopeful, he might even play along and consider allowing you to walk away with severe injuries but still alive. he wanted to see the hope rise in your eyes before he would crush it with his own hands.

you should feel hurt, hopeless, betrayed.

however, what you said, caught dabi by surprise. “you love me,” you stated calmly, eyes piercing through his turquoise ones.

you don’t know what you expected, you don’t even know why you said it. after all, you embodied the very thing he despised more than anything, the one thing he swore to destroy. a shiny hero, adored by the public, that is nothing more than a cruel puppet, willing to do anything to bring the very same people down, that the system you protected with your life, failed to save.

disgusting. why would he love you?

“i don’t,” the villain shot back immediately, voice filled with fury. bringing his head next to yours, you could feel his warm breath on your ear as he continued. “i never did,” he spat angrily.

there was something about him that made you question him. the way his eye twitched, how he pressed his teeth together, how his grip on you tightened, pressing you hard against the concrete wall, like he wanted to bury you inside of it.

“i don’t believe you,” you managed to choke out, shaking in his hold. in return, dabi narrowed his eyes at you, before throwing his head back and erupting in chaotic laughter.

“since when do heroes believe villains anyway? all we do is lie and betray,” he proclaimed, one of his hands letting go of your throat as he gestured into the empty alley, like he was on a stage, reciting a dramatic monologue.

after a few seconds dabi huffed and turned back to you, his lips curled into a sadistic smile, his eyes cold. “didn’t know a hero had it in them too,” he mocked you.

“you’ve lied a lot in your life, touya,” you stated, your words coming out pressed and barely audible as you gasped for air.

“but you can’t lie to me”

dabi — touya — was a lot. a criminal, a villain, a murderer, you knew that. just like he said, he was a liar too. he lied to get his way, he lied to lure people in and he lied just for the fun of it, just because he could. he lied to you too. he tried to put you on the wrong track, he lied to conceal the league’s plans from you because he didn’t trust you when you met, he lied just to annoy you.

but dabi forgot that after all the months you have spend together, you got to knew him and his habits. you inevitably grew closer, talked more and dare you even say understood each other‘s mannerisms. as much as he hated to admit it, you knew him just as well as he knew you.

“i always lie, to everyone,” the villain claimed boldly, the cold smile still on his lips. he sounded so condescending as he continued to mock you. “surely you’re not so arrogant to think that you’re an exception”

how dare you tell him that you know him? how dare you tell him that you don’t believe him? you lied, deceived, so why would you think he wouldn’t do the same?

“i’m going to fucking enjoy this”

“what’s there to enjoy”

much to your surprise, a laugh erupted from dabi.

“i wanted to kill you the moment you were brought to us,” he claimed, face inching closer to yours as he placed his hand on your cheek, the warmth of his palm sending shivers down your back. dabi hummed. “see the life drain out of your eyes and hear you scream like the pathetic thing you are”

“but you didn’t,” you replied stiffly, staring at the villain in front of you. his breath was hot on your lips, he was close, way too close given the situation you were in.

but you knew this look, you were familiar with how his scars looked up close, his triple pierced nostril and every patch of burned skin on his flesh.

“i didn’t,” he confirmed, nodding slightly. he ripped himself away from you right after, eyes narrowing again as he examined your face. the cold air hit you immediately, you felt like your cheeks were burning. “but no one can stop me now”

you tried to take a deep breath again, holding your chin high, trying your best to stand your ground. “then get it over with”

and again he laughed, his voice booming through the dark alley.

“why? i should drag this out, shouldn’t i?” he asked rhetorically, his mind already made up.

dabi wanted you like this. resigned, afraid, hopeless, at his mercy. looking at him with watchful eyes, over-analyzing every movement, no matter how small, and bracing yourself for the moment he would strike. you looked like a cornered animal, completely helpless. pathetic.

“a pro hero, right here, just willing to die by my hands. what a sight for sore eyes”

he smirked, inching his face closer to you again, only stopping when you could feel his hot breath on your ear. “that’s not something i get to enjoy every day”

“you’re torturing yourself”

dabi hummed again, much to your surprise even nodding his head slightly at your statement before shrugging. “who cares? nothing will satisfy me more than to kill you myself”

“then do it!” you screamed back, resisting against his hold of you again, only to earn a raised brow from the villain.

you knew he wouldn’t let you go, no matter what you were to say. threats, promises, nothing could persuade him. you were mere minutes away from death and nothing in your power could stop it from happening.

no one could stop it and no one would come to save you.

“go on. kill me. leave me here to rot for all i care. but when i‘m gone, there will be no one left who ever loved you“

from the very first moment you saw him, you knew who he was and what he had done, obviously you did. you had every piece of information available on every member of the league that you knew of. you knew their stories.

but him?

dabi was a blank space, a mystery. it was like he had just appeared one day, desperate to cause chaos and destruction wherever he went. and as much as you hated to admit it, that was what was so interesting about him, what almost drew you in. you wanted to know more, you needed to know more. what could make a person drive to kill innocents with seemingly no motive, haunt the streets of the city at night, causing panic wherever he went just because he could?

it wasn’t easy to find out more about him — mostly because nobody, not even the people that called themselves his friends, knew anything. he was a closed and locked book, nobody having the key to even read one page of him.

“shut up,” he shouted back, violently pushing you against the wall again. your head began to spin at the impact, vision flooding with a few tears before it cleared again. “shut the fuck up”

you didn’t know how you actually got closer to him and you certainly didn’t know why he decided to open up to you. was it some form of bait? was it genuine? at this point, you weren’t sure what you would prefer.

if it was nothing more than bait, trying to make you feel safe around him, trying to lure you in, you had to accept that the villain managed just that. he pulled you in and dragged you down, just like he had planned.

but what if it was genuine? what if he confided in you because he trusted you, because he believed that even though you were his enemy, something was different? that somehow you could leave this behind, that it didn’t matter and that you were someone he could trust. someone that wouldn’t ever betray him.

but at the end, you did. at heart, you were a hero after all, the commission‘s puppet, willing to protect the fragile legs your system stood on — not caring if you hurt people in the process and certainly not caring about the ones your system kicked away like trash.

all you knew was that he told you. he told you of the little boy touya. he told you of his family, his father. he told you about the shoes touya had to fill and how at the end it was so easy to just toss him aside.

and you comforted him, as much as you could. you showed sympathy and you felt pity. pity for the boy that wanted to become a hero more than anything, the boy that was turned away. a boy that was hurt so deeply that he had nothing left anymore.

“no one, touya”

what kind of person were you to exploit this very part of him?

“don’t call me that,” he demanded immediately, expression changing to one full of anger. there was no touya.

“that’s your name,” you only stated.

what were you trying to do? trying to appeal in the hopeful and ambitious boy inside of him? were you seriously hoping that this would change anything?

“touya died the day dabi was born,” the villain claimed loudly, eyes shut tightly as he spoke.

there was no more touya. touya died on a hill, leaving his childish dreams of being a hero and proving himself behind. dabi was all that mattered now. he found a new purpose, a goal in him and he would allow nothing and no one to stand in his way.

“i don’t believe you”

“i don’t care,” dabi spat back immediately, voice still booming as his palm heated up against your throat, your eyes widening when you felt the rapid rise in temperature, squirming in his hold. “it means jack shit to me”

you could hear how shallow his breathing was, how he tried to regain control of himself. slowly but surely his palm cooled down again.

“just like you” his eyes scanned your face again, narrowing slightly.

“hero” you knew of his, and frankly, the league‘s, distaste for you and your fellow heroes. the supposed protectors of society, yet the ones that cause the rise of villains in the first place. you saw how they rolled their eyes whenever someone even dared to mention a hero name, how their jaw clenched and how they loudly proclaimed that heroes were the true villains. but this was the first time that dabi had spat your profession, your cause, your entire being right at your feet.

“what are you waiting for?” you asked again, trying to ignore how heavy your chest felt.

the villain clicked his tongue and shook his head. “i’m surprised you care so little about your own life,” he said sighing. “aren’t you supposed to fight till the end?”

wasn’t this already the end? what was left for you to fight for? and even if you did, even if by some wonder you managed to escape what would you do? how could you return knowing you had betrayed everything you ever stood for?

“scared to kill me after all?”

and again, dabi shook his head, looking at you almost like he was about to claim that you didn’t know him like you claimed to after all. “scared?” he repeated, tilting his head. “i’m practically dying to see you go up in flames”

with a sadistic smile on his lips he looked around, eyes halting when he looked above you, analyzing the terrible state the building was in. “who knows, maybe i’ll set the house on fire too”

“you’re cruel,” you spat, shaking in his hold again.

dabi wasn’t surprised to see you attempting to fight back, even though you knew the fight was lost. a true hero at heart after all, willing to do everything in their power and even more to protect innocent civilians.

“and yet you love me,” he stated, eyes turning back to you. “now tell me, isn’t that cruel too? loving a ruthless murderer?”

it was. you hated it and you hated yourself for it. he was a villain, a murderer just like he said, someone who actively fought against everything you stood for, someone who was about to kill you and yet you loved him.

“you’re pathetic,” dabi spat, throwing your weak body onto the ground. you groaned when you collided with the wet asphalt, pain shooting through your every limb. your chest moved fast with every shallow breath you took, trying to regain your composure and clearing your clouded senses.

meanwhile dabi crouched down beside you, feigning sympathy at your pained expression. he reached out, his fingers softly caressing your cheek before gripping your chin harshly and forcing you to look at him.

“guess that is goodbye,” he sighed, purposefully giving you a sad look, before a smirk adorned his dry lips. igniting the palm of his hand he pointed it towards you. “after all, i never liked it when anybody interrupted us during our fun times”

the villain stood up, looking down at you with a cold expression, his earlier smile nowhere in sight. “burn in hell, hero”

you closed your eyes for just a second, silently apologizing for the things you‘ve done and the things you failed to do.

you apologized to your friends and family for leaving them behind like this, knowing the only closure that they were going to get was that you were murdered in an alleyway, supposedly by none other than the infamous dabi.

you apologized to your fellow heroes, because you knew how hard it could be to lose another hero, a colleague, a friend.

you apologized to hawks for compromising not just your but also his image with the league, effectively ending his cover and endangering your mission.

you apologized the hero commission, disappointed in yourself for failing them.

you apologized to touya for hurting him, betraying him. you never wanted for it to get this far.

you apologized to everyone because no matter how you looked at it, you betrayed them — hero or villain.

and lastly, you apologized to yourself, wanting nothing more than being able to forgive yourself for your inner chaos.

and yet, you couldn’t help but just wonder about how things might have been if you hadn’t agreed to this. you could have prevented so much pain on every side, so much distrust, so much hurt, so many lies.

you wouldn’t have forgotten who you were, what you stood for and what your duty was. you wouldn’t even have considered not only retiring as a hero, but going underground, fleeing from every promise you ever made, escaping from your duty. and if all of this wasn’t enough, you weren’t even ashamed to admit that you wanted to to it with a villain.

leaving this society behind, leaving everything behind that made you who you were to live out the rest of your days with a person that was the embodiment of everything that was wrong with the system you protected.

“i’ll wait for you, touya”

shortly after, dabi turned his back to the now charred body on the dirty floor, closing his eyes as he lazily walked away. kicking a pebble away with force, he hushed around a corner, disappearing into the shadows as he heard the first terrified scream from the poor soul that came across what used to be a beloved pro hero.

the image of you smiling as you spoke his last words to him clouded his mind, not allowing him to think about anything else but you.

you betrayed the league, you betrayed him. you used him. you lied to him.

the villain huffed in disgust, clicking his tongue. of course he was happy that you wouldn’t be there to bother him anymore. you couldn’t lie to him anymore, you couldn’t use him anymore.

you couldn’t hurt him anymore.

dabi was glad that you were gone — dead — and he was more than elated that he was there to see you as your life force burned away. after all, you were nothing but a way to get information, a puppet he could use to achieve his dream one day. you were part of a corrupt system, a willing participant, that used their shiny imagine to lure people in and prevent them from seeing what a bunch of hypocrites was actually hiding behind it.

only a dead hero was a good hero.

the sound of dabi‘s fist clashing with the tough concrete wall disrupted the comfortable silence he was walking in. with dull eyes the villain looked at his bruised knuckles, his already bloodied skin now turning even darker.

but why did you have to be a hero?

reblogs are appreciated

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

surely this is how it went in canon

an art trade i did w someone :)

this is basically the todobros subplot right

tw suicide mention (class of 09 audio)

mha au where ochako and hawks team up to help each other get with their crush