#Touya todoroki angst
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The cutest Todoroki - Touya x Reader
A/N: Angst to Fluff, Real Life AU, requested by @chelseaquake
at 5 years old
You think little Natsuo is the cutest, with the little streaks of red in his hair and his deep grey eyes. You wish you could hold him too, but Fuyumi’s not giving him up, cradling him like an expert as her mother watches.
“He’s not that special,” Touya points out again, pouting a little. He comes to stand next to you, twirling a forgotten volleyball in his hands.
“Do you want to play?”
“But we’re playing happy family right now,” you point out and he huffs.
“That’s boring. Play ball with me.”
You consider it for a second. Fuyumi’s probably not going to let you hold Natsuo any time soon, and Touya never plays with you in school because he’s one class over you and much cooler.
Before you can say yes, though, his father appears, and you shrink away. Todoroki-san is scary, taller than any other parent you know, and always angry-looking.
“If you’ve got time to stand around, you’ve got time to practice,” he calls out to Touya. “Come on.”
-
“Do you want me to braid your hair too?” Fuyumi asks when you are awed by her skills. Her hair looks so nice. Tomorrow, when her hair has dried, it will curl a little.
“Would you really? That’s so nice!” You take your place in front of her, thinking once again that sleepovers at Fuyumi’s place are the best. Her Dad might be a little scary, but everything else is so much better than at home.
Fuyumi’s working diligently, not noticing when the door to her room opens slightly.
Someone peeks through. You recognize those bright turquoise eyes immediately and wave a little shyly. Does he think your All Might Pyjamas are childish? Or does he think they’re cool? You don’t own fancy sleepwear like Fuyumi.
He waves back just as quietly but does not speak. You pull a face in the hopes of making him laugh and he presses his hand against his mouth to silence it.
It’s only when Fuyumi looks up that the moment shatters.
“Ugh, Touya, go away!”
-.-
at 7 years old
Little Shouto is so cute, with his pouty mouth and his mismatched eyes. You even get to hold him once, but only because Rei had to discuss something with her husband in the kitchen and Natsuo dragged Fuyumi out of the room for a second.
“He’s not that special,” Touya points out. He’s still pouting like he always does when you spend more time praising his brothers than him. But there’s an angry furrow to his brows now that you haven’t seen before.
“He looks a little like you,” you tell him. “He’s got that cute little pout from you.” You tap your fingertips against Shouto’s puckered lips and bite your own right away, realizing how that sounded.
Most girls in your class think that Touya’s really cool. Most boys in your class think that girls are annoying. What if Touya thinks the same?
“I am pretty cute,” he huffs next to you but when you blink at him, he’s blushing.
“And he’s got your pretty eyes,” you whisper because it has to be said, but not as loudly.
“Only one,” Touya points out, leaning into you a little. You nod, swallowing awkwardly.
“Ah!” Todoroki-san makes from where’s appeared in the doorway and you flinch. Touya stiffens next to you. “Where’s Fuyumi? Rei, please, I don’t want just anyone to be holding Shouto!”
Rei shuffles up to you, smiling apologetically and brushing your hair as she takes her son. You might not be as smart as Fuyumi, but you’re pretty sure Todoroki-san just insulted you.
“Touya, if you’ve got the time to stand around, you’ve got the time to practice,” Todoroki-san points out. “Come on now, get going.”
-
When you wake up at night, throat parched and unable to fall asleep again, you creep into the kitchen.
In the soft glow of a reading light, Touya’s sitting at the kitchen table, head bowed over a book.
“Aren’t you going to sleep?” You ask, too surprised to see him there to care about the fact that you’re still wearing your Allmight Pyjamas, threadbare, and a little too short around your ankles.
“Dad said I can only go to bed after I’ve got all the answers.” He explains, his voice both tired and annoyed. “I hate math.”
“Let me see,” you slip onto the chair next to him. “I’m not good with languages but I’m good at math. Maybe I can help.”
One look at the questions tells you that you’ll be no help at all.
“But…” You’re shocked. “You’re just one class above me.”
“That’s high school math,” he explains. “Dad says I have to unlock my full potential.”
“My Mom always says that I can’t learn if I’m tired. She always has me take naps before doing homework.”
“Your Mom sounds nice.”
“She is!” You smile. “But she has to work a lot. That’s why I can come over so often. When I’m sleeping over she can work a double shift.”
-
at 9 years old
The house feels different without Touya there.
It’s only ever Natsuo, who interrupts your playtime with Fuyumi, who asks you to play with him when you’re supposed to be doing your homework, who asks if he can, too, sleep over.
Fuyumi’s not good at saying no and neither are you, so you end up sandwiched between the two, thinking about how weird it is that the only time you ever see Shouto is during meals when he looks at you like you’re something alien. He rarely talks, not like Natsuo who couldn’t shut up way before he turned four.
You wonder, with fear in your heart, if Fuyumi will have to go to a boarding school too next year.
She’s the only friend who doesn’t mind sharing her lunch with you when your mother forgets to pack it yet again. Who lets you sleep over this often without getting annoyed. Who doesn’t make fun of you for still wearing the same clothes as last year, a little too short and a little too tight on you.
You miss Touya’s presence at school too, the way he sometimes came over during recess and talked to the two of you despite him being much cooler than you’ll ever be.
But it’s only at his home, where he’s supposed to be, that his absence weighs the most.
-
at 12 years old
Every summer holiday you hope against hope that this year, Touya will return.
Last year he went to a camp for gifted children but surely, this year will be different.
But you can tell, right at the door, that he’s not home.
It’s the way Natsuo sticks close, hides behind your back even though he’s long grown taller than you. He’s always preferred his big brother over you and Fuyumi over Touya.
But Fuyumi’s busy most of the time.
You try to help her cook and clean, but in the quietness of the night when he rests her head on your shoulder, she tells you that all she wants to do is play with you, feel like she’s a child and not her mother’s replacement.
“Do you want to come over then?” You ask softly. “If your mother needs to rest so much, we can sleep at my place. We can be as loud as we want there.”
The Todoroki’s place has been your refuge all through your childhood.
Maybe it’s only fitting that your place will be their refuge all through their teenage years.
It hurts though, when you pick them up. Because Touya should come with, and Shouto too. Sometimes you can see them though, in the single turquoise eye that peaks out from behind the curtains, in the pout on Shouto’s lips when he realizes he can’t come with, yet again.
-
“Touya said we can write him,” Fuyumi tells you one day, in the safety of the girls bathroom at school, “But not directly. There’s an older lady living down the street that gives him the letters once a week. Do you want the address too?”
“Yes,” you try to sound less eager than you feel. But Fuyumi’s been your friend for too long. She can read your mind from less than a word.
She smiles though.
-
at 17 years old
It’s the redness blooming around a single turquoise eye that brings everything down.
Fuyumi calls you crying after it happens.
You’ve never been more thankful for your mother than that day. She knows exactly what to do, never once freezes in the panic that has taken hold of you.
Shouto’s clinging to you, bandage covering his left eye, like the little kid he is.
This is how he finds you, crammed into an uncomfortable plastic chair at the hospital, Shouto in your lap, Fuyumi sleeping against your shoulder, Natsuo’s long body stretched out on two more chairs, head resting in his sister's lap.
You recognize him immediately, even after all those years, even after the terrible job he did at dyeing his hair.
“Touya?” You call out to him, where he’s standing frozen in the hallway.
You don’t want to get up, don’t want to wake up Fuyumi, or Natsuo, or Shouto, but there’s something flickering in Touya’s eyes that tells you that some moments need to be seized.
Touya sinks into your cautious embrace. He’s sorrow and hope at the same time, and it doesn’t matter that he hardly ever replied to one of your letters, that you haven’t seen him in years.
“Everything will be okay in the end,” you whisper into the blotchy blackness of his hair, “I promise.”
-
Your mother and you move into the Todoroki house until either one of their parents are able to care for them again.
It feels like a constant sleepover some days and a terrible idea on others.
More than once you wake up from Shouto climbing into your bed late at night.
More than once you find yourself wandering the kitchen late at night, hoping for Touya to be as sleepless as you, as yearning as you.
-
“Are you going to the dance?” Touya asks.
You’re alone in the kitchen for once. Fuyumi’s out to visit Rei, Natsuo’s staying at a friend’s house for the night and your mother is out with Shouto until later, check-ups with doctors and the obligatory ice cream treat afterward.
“Depends,” you say, trying to focus on the stir fry you’re making. “Why?”
“Did someone ask you out?” His voice is coming out gruffly and you turn to look at him.
The black’s almost completely washed out of his hair, darkening it only in some spots to something akin to blood. He’s staring at the floor, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.
You have been thinking about the senior dance before, but more in an abstract way. There’s simply not enough money for a dress and no boy interesting enough to wonder if he’ll ask you out. Well, no boy but him.
“No.” You turn back to the sizzling food.
“Do you want to go?” Touya asks now.
“I don’t have a dress.”
“But do you want to go?”
“I don’t have-”
“If all that did not matter?” His tone is sharper now, more desperate, “Would you want to go? With me?”
You turn again. His eyes are open, wide and vulnerable, like is voice when he uttered the last two words. Your throat is tight, your hands shaking.
You nod, unable to speak for a second.
He smiles, shyly and slowly. There’s something in his eyes that is asking you over.
You turn down the heat without looking.
His hands meet yours readily.
He blushes a fiery red when you lean in to kiss his cheek.
He pouts and you think, that in the end, Touya is the cutest Todoroki.
My Kofi if you want to tip me
#my writing#mha x reader#mha angst#mha fluff#touya todoroki#dabi#dabi x reader#dabi fluff#dabi angst#touya todoroki fluff#touya angst#touya fluff#touya todoroki angst#todoroki family#todoroki family fluff#todoroki family angst
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I’LL MAKE THIS FEEL LIKE HOME
cw: nsfw, 18+. minors and ageless blogs will be blocked for interacting. wc 6k. todoroki fam lore. bnha manga + s6 spoilers. angst and fluff and smut and love and
“Do you feel held by him? Does he feel like home to you?”
- Midsommar (2019)
Touya was eight years old when his youngest brother was born—the same age realized that his house no longer felt like home.
And while it never fit the traditional cookie-cutter feeling of a home before then, it was comforting in its own kind of way. It was definite, something that he could hold onto and strive towards. Something that was there at the end of the day, no matter how badly his hands burned or how quiet the dinner table was.
Because before Shouto was born, there was still a chance.
Fuyumi and Natsuo were just as much of failures as he was—it was anyone's game. He could keep pushing, train his hand to defy the science of his body and deal with it. Become what his father wanted so badly he’d kill for. That was home, the knowledge that there was still a chance for him.
But the moment Shouto was born, hair perfectly split the same as his flawlessly cursed body, Touya knew.
Instantly, he knew that his time was over—that there was no saving his dream of making his father proud. He hadn’t been enough, and he would have to live with that, in a house that's no home with a family that lives in the shadow of what he never got to be.
He carries that feeling everywhere he goes. Like an eternal kink in his neck, it weighs heavy on his shoulders and disintegrates the marrow of his bones. Forever the boy without a home, Dabi continues to do what he does best—or maybe worst—and he survives.
But, you don’t remember when Dabi became home to you.
Well, that's not entirely true. Like all other things, you suppose it happened slowly, then all at once.
You remember meeting him when you shouldn’t have. Recognizing his appearance from the local news, you remember the heavy feeling in your chest, like a child who was caught doing something wrong. The fear, the confusion. The part of you that wanted to help, the other than wanted to run.
But you don’t remember how fast it all happened.
Sewing his wounds and scrubbing his blood from your floor. Letting him sneak in to hide out, and waking up to an empty bed. You don’t remember the days bleeding into nights, but you could never forget the way his skin felt against yours.
You remember the impact, but the falling is all a blur. The stranger sleeping on your couch who has now read all of the books on your bedside table. The one who hissed and snarled for you to stay away, now crawls home to you on his knees.
One day he wasn't, and the very next day, he was.
You think that’s enough for you, but Dabi knows it’s too much for him.
…
The sound of your window creakily opening no longer scares you in the middle of the night. If anything, it brings you a sick sense of comfort.
Dabi slides through your living room balcony with ease, far too familiar with the routine of navigating your apartment in the dark. It does the job for him—keeps him out of the cold, gives him a bed to sleep in, a roof over his head. He finds that he enjoys the perks of your shitty building complex.
Oh, and you're there, too. But, he swears that has nothing to do with the magnetic urge that keeps pulling him back to the fire escape on the fourth floor that remains unlocked.
He opens your cabinets in search of something, anything, to fill his stomach in the slightest. He’s thin, almost alarmingly so, if you didn't know him—didn’t know his body is constantly working against him, eagerly taking the destruction he so carelessly puts it through.
Your sudden voice doesn't scare him. He doesn't so much as flinch at your clear tone in the silence of your home.
“Cremation.”
He briefly looks at you over his shoulder, humorously expressionless, before turning his back to you and rummaging through the cabinet again.
“Gesundheit,” he scoffs.
“It’s what your name means,” you breathe, tone still devoid of any emotion he can detect—or deflect.
The realization burns him like his quirk, oddly painless but still alarmingly there. He holds his breath without realizing it, and its not until he coughs that he mindlessly exhales.
Dabi. Cremation.
True, he thinks. It’s no secret by any means, but he still finds his muscles tensing up as if you’d just said something you shouldn’t have.
He doesn’t let his facade falter as he plucks a box of saltines from your cabinet. “Doesn't take a genius to do a basic translate search.”
“It’s not your real name,” you state, addressing the elephant infiltrating the room.
And at this, he fully turns to you. You stand in the entryway of the dark kitchen, arms crossed and eyes filled with sleep (or lack thereof, Dabi isn't sure he can tell the difference just yet).
You're not angry. No, he's seen you angry before. This is different, harder. It's almost stoic. And while Dabi can’t put his finger on the exact feeling of the pit in his stomach, he knows he doesn’t like it.
He sticks his hand in the cardboard box before plucking a cracker and plopping the snack in his mouth. The salt burns the cuts on his lips when he sarcastically speaks, “You’re on fire with the observations today.”
He watches you shrug, expression still void of any true indication of whatever your heart is feeling. The only light in the tiny apartment comes from the stove behind him. He can just make out your silhouette and barely your face through hardened focus and adjusting eyes.
He thinks he’s grateful for that. He doesn’t want to see the details of your dissapointment when you see the real him.
“Figured it was a bit too coincidental,” you rest against the doorframe. Dabi takes it as a good sign, you're not stiff.
“Quirks don’t even manifest until a few years after birth, unless you were unnamed for the first five years of your life.”
Should’ve been, he bitterly thinks. Things would've been easier that way.
He bites his tongue.
The only sound that can be heard is the crunching of his teeth against the cracker he gnaws on. After a moment, he offers you one. You don’t move a muscle at his extended hand. He lets it sink back slowly, defeated, as he clears his throat.
“It fits, doesn't it?”
It’s a rhetorical question, one he doesn’t actually expect you to answer. Because his name is all that’s known of him. Of course it should fit. Because when you look at him—his peeling and charred skin and hand that wields nothing but pain—it’s evident that all he can do is cremate.
His breath hitches when you speak up.
“To some, sure,” you decide.
With the way his chest tightens at your declaration, Dabi decides he doesn't like your tone.
He shields himself with his bark. “What’s that mean?”
“It means I want to call you something different,” you ache, but Dabi can read between the cracks you let falter. I deserve to call you something different, is what your heart bleeds onto the floor. I’m different.
He refuses to let that be the truth.
“Didn't think you’d be one for pet names, doll.” He tosses the half-eaten box back into your cabinet, lazily shutting the wood and wiping his crumby hands on his sleeves.
“I don’t see you how they see you,” your voice is stern now, he hears the determination in your shaky words. “I want to know your name.”
Your real one, the lines read once again. But in a split second, Dabi realizes he’s come too far to ruin whatever this is now.
“Fat chance in hell,” he dismisses, brushing your shoulder as he leaves the kitchen.
You’re quick to follow—as you always are, he’s begun to notice. You're like a mosquito constantly buzzing in his ear. No matter how many times he swats and repels, you come back stronger. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t hate it.
“Please.”
“No,” he’s even quicker to bore. “M’not dragging you into my shit.”
Too late, the voice in the back of his mind laughs. He’s always been his own worst enemy.
“There's more to you,” you continue to press, wanting something tangible, more from him. “You're not just what they make of you. You're a person, someone's son, someone’s–”
“Don't,” a balloon bursts behind his eyelids. His voice comes louder than ever before and it unsettles you, him, and the floorboards beneath your toes.
“Don't you ever...fucking say that again. You hear me?” With his finger in your face, Dabi shakes. He prays to whoever is listening that you see it as fury, and not what it truly is—fear.
And based on the tears flooding your eyes, he’d bet money he doesn't have that he’s right. In the silence of your home, you nod.
Dabi decides he’s had enough for one night, done enough to make you hate him just the right amount to forget about fixing him.
On the way out, Dabi mumbles something that sounds a lot like, “Say something stupid like that one more time and you'll never see me again.”
…
Dabi is exhausted.
His burner rings obnoxiously through the bedroom in the middle of the night.
You’ve begun to associate the loud melody with the feeling of a knife—the blade cruelly trickling its tip against your skin. Cold, sharp, barely applying enough pressure to make you hyperaware of its potential to rip everything you've ever known away from you with a mere movement forward.
You never know who’s on the other end of the line, and this time is no different. When the infamous sound sends a chill up your spine, Dabi answers it without a second thought. He wordlessly picks up, listens intently, and hangs up as quickly as it rang.
Then, he’s out of bed and putting his shoes on.
He knows you're not asleep, so there's no point in pretending to be when you crawl out of bed and follow him to the den of your home.
He grabs the remote, flicks the television on, and eagerly surfs the channels until he lands on the local news. Endeavor runs through the barren and obliterated streets of downtown, defending the city and fighting some… creature. You don't miss the way Dabi’s eyes don't blink whenever the hero is on screen.
He’s too focused, too emotional when it comes to him. It's unlike anything you've ever seen from him, and you're tired of pretending not to see the smothering fire in his eyes whenever the man is brought into discussion.
The reporter on the screen flips to another battle somewhere else in the city, with other heroes and other creatures and other things that should matter right now but for some reason don't. Because when Dabi finally takes his eyes off the screen to slip into his shoes, you spill.
“Why him?”
He harshly tightens the laces of his boot, “Huh?”
“Endeavor,” falls from your lips, and he nearly hisses at the sound of the name on your tongue. “Why him out of all heroes?”
He hesitates in the slightest. The average eye wouldn't have noticed his pause, but you know him. You see the way he clenches his jaw and fiddles with the staples sealing his chin.
He merely shrugs before tying his other lace, “He’s number one.”
“He wasn't always,” you contest, a bit too accusatory for his liking.
“Why does it matter?” Dabi bites. Bites the hand that feels him, shelters him, listens to him and chooses to remain quiet with what it knows. He bites the hand that loves him, and he almost regrets it when he sees your slight shock.
Almost.
His stomach churns as he watches you slightly falter before finding your footing once more. “It seems to matter to you.”
So it matters to me, your heart aches to drill into his rock-solid mind. His eyes feel hot on your skin as he shakes his head and stands from where he sits.
“He’s not a good guy, none of ‘em are.”
“How do you know?”
His grip on his coat tightens in frustration. “I have a ton of shit on him. He’s not the savior you think he is.”
“I don’t think he’s a savior,” you retort, and it comes out a bit childish, like a belief you wish to convince yourself of. “I don’t know him.”
“But you trust him,” Dabi is quick to jump, almost as if you've fallen right into his trap. He looks a bit wild, as if you’re prey in his hands, saying all the right things so sweetly just for him to do what a predator does and hunt. Sink his teeth into your flesh and ruin you for the thrill of it.
“Cause he’s the face of the fuckin’ country?” he coos with a venomously fake smile. “Cause he’s big and strong and always does the good thing, right?”
He’s trying to scare you, you know this—but you’ve never been scared of Dabi. Not when he’s tried to make you be, not when he’s done unspeakable things. He doesn’t scare you, but he’s upsetting you. He’s being mean, which isn't new to you but still rare enough to sting.
“I trust you,” your voice cracks, making his stomach churn with shame, “so if you don’t trust him, then I trust you have a good reason not to.”
Silence overtakes the room and Dabi’s chest burns with bile rising.
You trust him? On what grounds? What reason has he given you to just hand over your patience without a fight, without a reason?
Most importantly, if the thought of you trusting him makes him sick to his fucking stomach, then why does he find his lips moving before he can stop himself?
“He beats his kids.”
The television cuts to a commercial. A car drives by below, honking furiously at something or other. He says it casually, eyes looking away from yours.
Your voice is barely heard, “His kids?”
You didn't even know he had kids. Come to think of it, you knew of one boy. Fire and ice who attends the hero facility downtown that's always getting into trouble. Set to follow in his father's footsteps, according to the tabloids.
Dabi’s face doesn't falter at your surprise, immune to the violence he knows lives within his words. “Wife, too.”
The pieces don't add up in your mind. Dabi’s never been one for morals, not one for evening the tides and setting the universe straight when it comes to what's right and what's wrong. He does what he wants, he’s selfish. So why on earth would he care about a tragedy that doesn't involve him?
He interrupts your thoughts when he walks over to the front door. The sound of him fiddling with the lock makes your heart drop—because it means he’s leaving, and for how long, you never know.
“Doesn’t anymore, apparently, but he did for years,” he scoffs in disgust. “Claims he’s turned a new leaf. Wants to be father of the year, all of a sudden.”
Leaving before you can process any thoughts to convey into words, he sneaks through your door without a second thought.
“The good guys aren't actually good, y’know,” he warns as he leaves you.
You don’t see him for two weeks.
…
Dabi doesn't fuck you with caution.
It's the same every time. Rough, quick, desperate. You on your stomach and him towering behind you. He doesn't look at you or say much other than a grunt or curse here and there. Always pulls out, if he even cums, and always leaves right after, if not in the middle of the night.
But that doesn't mean it’s not good. Because fuck, it's great.
While short-lived and based on nothing but selfish, primal needs, it's a private moment of feeling nothing but him. His hands are everywhere and his teeth are never too far behind. His skin is on fire and his pace is nothing short of eager.
Your back is arched as your face is pressed to the mattress. You feel his cock throb as it swells against the insides of your walls with every rushed and eager thrust.
“Fuck, please,” he hears you breathily whine, and you feel his smirk against the skin of your back.
He uses your polite desperation to reward you, snap his hips extra hard and bury himself to the hilt of your cunt. He sits and burns inside of you, grip tight on your waist as he pulls you as close to him as he can without swallowing you whole.
His tip dances directly at the opening of your cervix, just barely brushing the overly tender spot with a feather-light prodding that somehow feels like too much and not enough. He lets himself continue to stretch you, to mold you, to enjoy the only thing he believes was made for him before he ruins it.
He feels you repeatedly clench around him as you mewl, “Please, more please.” You’re already completely spent when you plead, “Please, Dabi.”
And just like that, a switch is flipped inside of him.
His grip on your hips tightens, “Don’t.”
He goes to pull out of you completely, but your cry from his movement halts his hips. “Oh, nnnngh, Dabi—!”
In a whirl, you're flipped onto your back and met with a harsh gaze.
“Don’t,” he growls into your throat, “call me that.”
Frozen in place from both shock and pure need, you airily gasp when you feel his cock head brushing itself through your folds. With a scarred wrist, Dabi swipes his tip between your folds, eyes fully absorbing and watching your expression twitch with every sensitive brush.
“Touya,” he tells you through a slack jaw, watching your eyelids flutter at the teasing.
He pushes himself into your cunt, not fully, but enough for you to cry in slight release, before pulling out to where his tip is the only part of him swallowed by you.
“Touya,” he repeats, nearly chanting as he aches to engrain it into your system. So it’s all you’ll ever know, the only word your tongue will ever taste from now on, no matter who is sticking what inside of you. He works to make your body remember that the only thing it should think of when feeling the slight stretch of your throbbing cunt is—
“Touya,” he bleeds. It almost doesn’t even sound like a word. “Say it. Touya.”
And you do. It crawls breathy and drunk from your throat as if your lips were made to form its syllables. Like a holy mantra falling from your lips, his whole body shivers when he hears your sweet heaves.
“Touya,” is whimpered into his lips.
He holds his breath for a beat, before shakily recollecting himself from his quickly approaching high and readjusting his grip on your jaw.
“Again, fuck.”
“Touya,” you gasp at his now snapping hips. It’s deeper, slower, and even more desperate than you thought it was before. It's messy and tired and he cradles you in his palms as you chant his name like a prayer.
Touya. Touya. Touya.
He abruptly finishes inside of you, his spurting warmth easily sending you over the edge, too.
While it was something that was always offered, Touya has never once come inside of you, always choosing to pull out last second, if he finished at all. You savor the moment, letting him rut his cum into you until your both dry with exhaustion.
Breathing returns to a normal rate and Touya lets himself soften inside of you. With his head burrowed in your neck, he makes a move to pull out of you. To leave, your chest tightens at the realization, so on instinct, you let your legs wrap around his torso, crossing your ankles and keeping him as your own for just a little bit longer.
Without a fight, he lets you. He lets himself stay inside of you as he drifts to sleep in your hold.
“Touya,” he hears you coo, listens to you taste it on your tongue and determine that you like its flavor.
“S’pretty,” you decide in a sleeping daze. “Fits you better.”
Dabi drifts to sleep thinking about the irony of that statement.
…
The puzzle pieces itself together rather quickly after that.
It turns out Endeavor does have kids—four, to be exact. Three boys and a girl, all different equations of fire and ice and grief.
It's not hard to find articles on what happened at Sekoto Peak. What happened to Touya Todoroki, the boy who died for nothing, who you now know somehow sits alive on your couch with a bowl of ramen noodles and a wet head.
He focuses on the television before him. A cheesy horror film from the late 80s plays through the grainy screen. His feet are resting on top of the coffee table and the bowl in his lap is steaming. He uses his chopsticks to dive in regardless of its heat.
Sitting on the opposite end of the couch, you can smell your eucalyptus shampoo in his hair from where you sit. Though his head is still damp, you can tell the color has gotten lighter. While still practically jet black all over, you're able to see the slightest tint of light peeking through his roots. You know better than to ask, but you're sure your guess is as good as any.
Touya must feel your gaze on him because his eyes flicker to the side where you quietly admire his profile. Through a mouthful of noodles and steaming broth, he mumbles.
“What’re you doing?”
You smile at the lack of enunciation in his words before innocently shaking your head. “Nothing.”
Unconvinced, his eyes narrow. “Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” he accuses.
You roll your eyes out of habit though your heart is anything but irritated, “What, I can’t look at you, now?”
He uses the next bite he takes to hide the smirk growing on his face. “Not with that stupid look on your face.”
He takes pride in watching you get flustered, scrunching your nose and giggling out a horrified, “What look?”
He reaches across the couch to close the gap between the two of you, before flicking your forehead.
“That look,” he declares.
He doesn't move back to where he was sitting. He lets himself remain next to you, your head lightly resting on his shoulder as the sound of the movie webs throughout your living room.
It’s easy, too easy. It’s natural and warm and feels like the closest thing to a home he’s ever held in his calloused and weeping palms.
And Touya is selfish.
He wants to grasp onto it, white-knuckled and pressing crescents into his palms—he wants to keep you. Wants to keep this. But he knows better.
Touya knows that the stupid look on your face was one of love. Pure and undeniable. But he doesn't let himself think too much about it.
…
The weather changes with the wind, and it’s colder in Japan when Touya gives you a piece of him you never thought you’d get.
He’s just arrived back from god knows where doing god knows what, but you’ve learned not to question it. You welcome him in every time with a warm smile and an urge to hold him, and he thinks maybe thats why he hears himself suddenly spilling.
“Saw him today,” he breathes evenly.
His words hold no context, no prior conversation triggering his statement. It just exists in the space between the two of you on the couch, and the ball is in your court.
Your head tilts in careful thought, “Who?”
“Downtown,” he ignores your question, “cornered him for a second and everything.”
And though you know nothing and shouldn’t be able to understand the man beside you, you do.
You feel his pain in the way his eyebrow twitches, how his fingers crack against his palms. You might not get it, but you try. You’ll always try for Touya.
You encourage him, “And what happened?”
The wind howls outside, and you feel your home settle beneath its harsh hit. The walls crack with movement as the two of you remain seated beside one another.
After a moment, Touya clears his throat.
“Nothing,” he bitterly laughs to himself. “Absolutely nothing.”
The tea in your hand buzzes heat through its mug, and it feels like Touya’s touch. When he’s careful and cautious and places his hands on your stomach, treating you like glass he needs to mold.
“Looked me dead in the eyes, felt my fuckin’ flame, and—” he cuts himself off at the emotion crawling into his words with a cough, “and nothing.”
You say nothing, but Touya knows that nothing needs to be said. He can sit on his couch with the tea you made him and the look you're giving him and he knows he can trust you. As much as he doesn't want to, he can.
With his head hung low in shame, he rips off the only bandaid he’s ever had for the deepest wound he never got the chance to properly clean.
“He’s my old man,” he harshly swallows.
After a moment of silence, he drags his head up from the floor.
You're still looking at him the same, eyes dancing with love and some sick want to understand him.
You simply reach across the cushion and squeeze his hand.
“I know,” you whisper.
And in what Touya imagined to be an earth-shattering conversation, he feels the corner of his mouth pulling upwards into an ironic smile.
“’Course you do,” he laughs under his breath. It's not malicious or accusatory, it's a matter of fact.
Because of course, you know. Of course, you would see through his master puppetry and barring fangs. Of course, it wouldn't change how you see him.
Of course.
In what should be a terrifying moment, Touya lets himself smile. He shakes his head as he sighs, “Father of the fuckin’ year, right?”
…
“M’gonna do something,” Touya tells you solemnly one afternoon in bed, “and you’re gonna hate me for it.”
The freshly setting sun shines through the window, and you can feel its heat warming up your legs through the frame. The rays feel oddly contrasting to his cloudy day words.
You open your eyes to find his. They’re already looking back at you, glasslike as they flicker across your features. Like he’s searching for something neither of you have an answer to.
Your foot brushes against his calf as you shift to face him.
“I could never hate you,” you softly remind him, “you know that.”
Touya fights the urge to roll his eyes, and you bite back a smile at the agitation wrinkles forming on his forehead. Your fingers move without thinking, using your thumb to iron and smooth over his delicate skin.
“Fine,” he huffs, but you don’t miss the way he softens beneath your touch.
“I’m gonna do something and you’re gonna yell at me for it,” he follows up more gentle this time, like a tainted whisper afraid to be too loud in the honeyed quietness of your home.
It fills your stomach with a familiar sense of unease.
“Well, do you deserve to be yelled at?”
He softly smiles, one equal parts of happy and sad, “Probably.”
You return the look as you sit on his words. He’s treading lightly, which is a thoughtful change compared to his usual acting on impulse.
He’s cautioning you. Preparing you for something bitter, and while you appreciate the warning, you know it can’t be anything good. It feels a lot like the breathtaking sunset before a disastrous overnight storm.
Your voice is a whisper when you meekly ask him, “Can you tell me any more?”
And though the look on his face is regretful, his answer comes all the same.
“No,” he swallows.
And like the saint you are, Touya doesn’t know why he’s surprised when you merely bob your head in understanding and smile.
“Okay,” you nod.
You expect that to be all. Because Touya’s never been one for words, let alone more than the bare minimum amount needed. And you were deemed lucky enough to get a vague warning.
That should be the end of the conversation, but it’s not.
Touya reaches for your wrist and his fingers dance along the bone lightly. He doesn’t remove his eyes from where they bore into yours when he breathes.
“M’sorry.”
The words are foreign on his tongue, and his smallness unsettles you. Something feels wrong, like nausea brewing and waiting for bile to finally strike.
You sit up, cradling his face in your palms as you coo words of reassurance. He feels cold, his body temperature ironically contrasting the heat that runs through his veins. He’s trying so hard to keep whatever he knows inside the clear cage of his mind, but you can practically hear the cracking of the glass beneath it’s weight.
“Hey, no,” you exhale between kisses to his hairline. “No, don’t start that shit.”
Because while he doesn’t tell you everything, Touya tells you enough, and it’s more than you ever thought would be true with someone as out of reach as him.
He may not tell you he loves you, but he says it through his eyes. He doesn’t tell you how he has so much respect for you it could swallow him whole, but sometimes, in the glimpse of his stolen glances, you can feel it.
He can’t tell you what he’s going to do, but he can tell you he’s sorry. And that is something in and of itself.
Touya closes his eyes at the affection. He wishes he could freeze time and savor this moment forever. Keep it as a souvenir to place on his shelf and keep him company on lonely nights to come. He doesn’t want it to end, doesn’t want to be anywhere else that isn't here, right now, with you.
He does his best to soak in how your lips feel against his as you promise, “We’ll figure it out, yeah?”
But he’s not so sure, because while you think he’s apologizing for not being able to tell you more, Touya is apologizing for the hell he knows is to come.
…
He’s dead. He has to be dead.
The screen in front of you feels like a cruel joke as it flashes clips of the scene. Not Dabi, but Touya, on national television—spewing venom to the entire country with a smile. .
He speaks slowly, solemnly, like he's thought this through. Like he’s rehearsed and planned this all along. He speaks like a spiraling politician, and it cuts like a blade in your back.
You think about the television screens across the city right now.
A family whose gameshow night got rudely interrupted. A cafe whose workers are making their final lattes for the night, sweeping the floors and washing the counters as his rambling mindlessly plays in the background. You wonder if anybody is home at the Todoroki residence, if the television is on, or if it was unplugged years ago.
Touya is dead, and he warned you.
That’s why he did this, why he planned this to unfold the way it did. He told you that you’d hate him, and like a fool, you told him he was wrong.
A knock on the door is barely heard over your heavy breathing, and you debate on answering it.
It has to be the police, or maybe even a hero—looking for you, now an accomplice blinded by a mirror you thought was a window.
Your brain starts to spiral with thoughts that make your chest heave.
Did Touya turn himself in? Go down without a fight? Did someone see him leave your home? Had they known this entire time?
Maybe they were waiting for the right moment to strike, for the dominoes to ripple so they can make their move when you’re too weak to defend yourself. Maybe he double-crossed you, blamed whatever he could on you before driving a getaway car in the opposite direction of your apartment. Maybe he never cared at all—maybe the realest thing you’d ever known was orchestrated from beginning to end.
Another knock comes, this time more urgent and harsh. And there’s no point in prolonging the inevitable—so with tear-stained cheeks and shaking shoulders, you open the door.
And it’s Touya.
With white hair and soggy clothes, he stands in the hallway of your crumby apartment complex.
You want to laugh at the irony of it all. The first time he uses your actually door instead of window, he's a new man.
New hair, new name, a new look in his eye—one that swims of something you can't put your finger on. He’s alive and in front of you, and regardless of the anger overflowing your cup, you need to feel him.
So you pull him through the threshold, inside of your home, and against your skin. You feel the wet leather of his jacket, and smell the ash from the battle mixed with the coffee he had before he left this morning.
He’s here, and you love him.
“I hate you,” your cries vibrate against his chest as you weakly push and punch at his shoulders. “I hate you, I fucking hate you.”
Touya lets you sob into his shirt. It’s covered in your tears and blood that’s not his. He lets you thrash and scream and crumple beneath his hold.
He wants to say I told you so. I told you you’d hate me.
“How could you do that,” he makes out between your hyperventilating and sobs, “how could you do that to me?”
His throat restricts with tears that can’t come as you melt against his body, “I would have never done that to you.”
“I’m sorry,” Touya breathes, and he repeats it. Says it again and again and again until it all bleeds together into nothing but syllables and sobs.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m home, and I’m sorry.
…
The bedroom is cold, the window slightly cracked open as Touya shuffles your quilted blanket off of his clammy body.
He always runs a bit hot at night, though he’s ironically ice to the touch when his quirk isn’t at work.
Now on top of your comforter, his scarred palm lays open to you. He flinches every now and then as you delicately draw shapes into it with a painted fingernail. His eyes are closed, but he’s able to recognize the swirling form of your movements, the same ones you’ve drawn every night since he came back home to you.
He doesn’t remember the last time he’s felt this at peace.
After everything, he’s still here. And not only is he still here, but he’s okay with that, because he’s with you.
“I've never—” he hesitates, but the darkness illuminating the room gives him a surge of confidence.
“I've never had this,” his voice is pained, nearly softer than silence itself.
He feels your finger stop swirling for a moment, but it resumes just as quickly as it halted. He feels you alter your pattern, and with cleaner lines and softer edges, he’s able to recognize the heart you doodle on his skin.
“Had what?” you gently ask.
“A home,” Touya breathes, before correcting himself, “where I’m wanted.”
You smile and Touya feels so loved he nearly makes himself sick. He feels so held, so wanted, so right in your bed and beneath your delicate fingertips.
The stranger in your home. The outlaw who smells of your perfume. The boy who never got a second chance, but the man who got a third.
Touya has so much love for you that he doesn't know where to put it all.
But for a moment, when he looks at your smile and feels your fingertip tracing his palm, he sees it as you offering your open arms to hold any excess he can’t carry.
He feels you grin against the scarring of his wrist.
“Well,” you kiss the tender spot where skin meets stitching, “you might wanna get used to it.”
#i am very very proud of this pls be kind to me thank u love u muah#touya x reader#touya todoroki x reader#touya x you#touya todoroki x you#dabi x you#dabi x reader#dabi fic#touya fic#touya todoroki fic#dabi smut#touya smut#touya todoroki smut#touya angst#dabi angst#touya todoroki angst#dabi fluff#touya fluff#touya todoroki fluff
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Carrying his child - Dabi x Reader
Warnings: reader is pregnant, Dabi is rather rude at first, angst
Synopsis: you set up a meeting with Dabi to reveal that you're carrying his child
Requested by: anonymous
MASTERLIST
You stood nervously at the top of the hill, waiting for Dabi to arrive. The wind rustled through the tall grass, and the distant sounds of the city faded away, leaving behind a quiet serenity. This was the place you had chosen to break the news to him — a place where you could speak without interruptions or prying eyes.
After what felt like an eternity, you spotted a figure approaching in the distance. It was Dabi. As he drew nearer, you couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety. Dabi was known for his rough demeanor and cold attitude, and you knew that telling him you were pregnant would not be well received.
"About time you showed up," he grumbled, his voice laced with annoyance. "What's so important that you had to drag me out here, doll?"
You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. "I need to talk to you, Dabi. It's something important."
He crossed his arms, a scowl forming on his face. "Well, spit it out then. I don't have all day, babe."
You hesitated, gathering your thoughts before finding the courage to speak. "I'm pregnant," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Dabi's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before narrowing into a glare. "And what the hell does that have to do with me?" he snapped.
His harsh words hit you like a punch to the gut, tears welling up in your eyes. "Dabi, please," you pleaded, your voice trembling. "I thought you deserved to know. This... this is your child too."
He stared at you, his anger momentarily giving way to confusion. Slowly, the weight of your words seemed to sink in, and his expression hardened. "Mine?" he repeated, his voice cold and distant.
You nodded, wiping away the tears that streamed down your face. "Yes, Dabi. We're going to have a baby."
Dabi's scowl deepened, and he took a step back, distancing himself from you. "You think I wanted this? You think I wanted some brat tying me down?" he growled.
Your heart shattered at his callous words, and you fought back sobs that threatened to escape your throat. "I didn't plan for this either, Dabi," you managed to say through trembling lips. "But it's happening, and I thought you deserved to know."
He sneered at you, his anger seeping through every word. "Deserved to know? You think I care about your damn feelings? You think I care about some bastard child? We had some nice sex, yes, but that's it. I've never signed up for starting a goddamn family."
Unable to bear his cruelty any longer, the floodgates burst open, and tears streamed down your face. "How can you say that?" you sobbed, your chin trembling. "This is our child, Dabi. It's a part of you too. You won't change it. It already happened! How can you be so cruel... I've given upon everything for you!"
Dabi's eyes widened as he watched your tears flow, and for a brief moment, a flicker of regret flashed in his gaze. His hardened facade crumbled, revealing a mixture of anger, confusion, and a hint of remorse. Dabi stared at the ground, his jaw clenched tightly. The weight of his harsh words hung heavily in the air, and he could feel the pain radiating from you. The memories of your intimate, passionate nights together flashed through his mind, reminding him of the connection you shared. He couldn't deny the truth. Deep down, he knew it was his child. A mix of emotions battled within him — fear, regret, and a twinge of guilt. He had always been guarded, keeping others at arm's length. Love was a foreign concept to him, and the thought of being responsible for another life terrified him. But as he glanced up at you, your tear-streaked face and trembling figure, something shifted inside him. You had always been there, standing by his side, unwavering in your loyalty and love. He knew that you were faithful, not out of fear, but because you genuinely cared for him. Dabi took a step closer, his voice softer this time, tinged with remorse. "I... I reacted poorly. I know I did," he admitted, his voice laced with vulnerability. "It's just... I'm not used to this. I'm not used to someone caring for me like you do. It's just... Fuck. It's too much to comprehend at once."
Your sobs began to subside, replaced by a glimmer of hope in your eyes. "Dabi," you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of relief and forgiveness. "I understand. It's a lot to take in."
He reached out tentatively, his fingers grazing against your cheek, wiping away the remnants of tears. "You deserve better than what I gave you just now," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "And... our child... they deserve better, too."
You sniffled, trying to compose yourself. "Dabi, I understand that you're scared and unsure," you said, your voice trembling but determined. "But this is happening, and our child deserves better than this. They deserve to know their father."
Dabi looked away, his jaw clenched, struggling to find the right words. The weight of his initial reaction seemed to sink deeper within him, battling against the emerging realization of the life growing inside you.
"I never thought... I never thought I could be a father," he finally admitted, his voice laced with vulnerability. "I've done terrible things, you know that, and I don't know if I can be what this child needs. I'm a fucking monster, certainly not a role model.."
You took a step closer, reaching out to gently touch his scared forearm. "Dabi, nobody is perfect," you said softly. "But that doesn't mean you can't change or be there for our child. It's not too late to start over, to become the father you never had."
His eyes met yours, a mix of pain and uncertainty reflecting in their depths. "You really think I can do it? Be a father?"
"I believe in you," you whispered, your voice filled with conviction. "I've seen glimpses of the man behind the mask, the person who cares beneath the rough exterior. And I know deep down, there's a part of you that wants to protect and love our child."
Dabi's defenses began to crumble further as he took in your words. He reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender. "I... I don't know if I deserve you," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "But if there's a chance... a chance to make things right, to give our child a better life, then maybe... maybe I can try."
A glimmer of relief and gratitude washed over you, and tears of a different kind welled up in your eyes. "Thank you, Dabi," you whispered, leaning into his touch. "Thank you for giving us a chance."
Dabi's grip tightened on your cheek, his eyes filled with a mixture of newfound tenderness. "I won't promise it'll be easy," he said, his voice steady. "But I'll try my damn hardest to be there for you and our child."
A bittersweet smile tugged at your lips, and you rested your hand on top of his. "That's all I can ask for, Touya," you replied within a whisper. "We'll face this together, and we'll create a better future for our family."
Dabi's eyes widened as he heard you call him by his true name. It sounded like music to his ears, hearing you whisper "Touya" with such love and tenderness.
Tears of relief streamed down your face as you leaned in, pressing a tender kiss against his lips. It was a silent promise, a symbol of the new path you were embarking on together.
As you stood there on the hillside, a sense of hope began to replace the initial fear and uncertainty. The road ahead would undoubtedly be challenging, but with each passing moment, you both felt a growing connection, a shared commitment to love and protect the life you had created together. And as the wind whispered through the grass and the city lights twinkled in the distance, you knew that despite the rough exterior, Dabi's heart held the potential to embrace the love and responsibility that awaited him.
#dabi#dabi angst#dabi my hero academia#touya todoroki#dabi x y/n#dabi x reader#dabi x you#my hero academia#bnha dabi#bnha angst#pregnant!reader#toya todoroki#touya todoroki angst#touya todoroki x reader#touya todoroki x you
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Dabi is better as a memory.
He told you from the beginning to never fall in love with him, it was dangerous and too risky for you to do. He’s loved very seldom times in his life, love was a sham and nothing he was willing to provide for anyone, lust being the quick and easy patch for affection he’d occasionally need.
You were broken when he’d found you. He liked it like that. You were quick and snappy and rude to him, but it drove him more and more wild each time you’d bite. He’s a creep, he liked the way you sent him glares and eye rolls at his flirts.
He liked the way you’d finally caved, the way you’d given him plenty of fight rather than submit to his deviously dominant ways, making him work at every little demand you had to keep you satisfied.
But then you fucking did it.
You fell in love with him.
It was a slow slide, he knew it from the subtle ways you’d act from the nonchalance of first meeting; your arms clinging to him a bit more when he tries to leave, setting up an extra plate in case he came in for dinner- he might’ve done it all of twice, but you accidentally let him know you did it all the time.
Then it became him wanting you, craving you, desperate for the way your fingers weave his hair and grip at the root when he’s got you in euphoria. Eager to curl behind you under warm sheets. Rub your sore back and dodging a swift smack when his hands may wander.
But the he moment you’d let him in, take him and his ugly love in every crevasse of your soul, he knew he was in too deep. Dabi knew that emotionally, there was barely room for himself in his rotten heart.
He’s not so criminal to take and corrupt yours.
You’re good. You’re too good. You’re so good it hurts him, so good he can’t stand coming over some nights, so good that you could have any person with a pulse who you wanted, yet you chose for the absolute ugliest the world had to offer.
He can’t do that to you. He feels the way you try to cling to him for warmth when he first comes in. He knows you hate saying no to your friends invitations to hang out when he’s over- they never liked him, but to be honest, he wouldn’t spit on any of them if they were on fire, either- but it always meant you were missing out. The way you patch up his wounds and scars at ungodly hours of the night, it’s not worth it. He sees the way you look at him after a fight, eyes swelling with tears he had no right to conjure onto you, and the way you creep towards him in a desperate plea for forgiveness you never had to beg for- even if he made you.
For a man with nothing to lose, except for you.
You’ve had enough of his lonely love, even if you don’t know it yet.
Even if it’s the hardest thing Todoroki Touya is going to do, he needs to leave you as heartless and loveless as Dabi could.
He needs to leave you. Shatter your heart into tiny pieces where you hate the mere reminder of him, where someone new can take the patience you deserve to puzzle the shards back together.
It has to hurt you. Nothing less than the worst to make you hate him more than he hates himself.
The light from your alarm clock is dark, but he can just barely make out the red lights of 03:24; a little later than he wanted, but you were so warm, so comfortable he didn’t want to wake you up.
You toss an arm over his torso, and he cringes because he knows it’s the last damn time. Your cheek nuzzles into the scarred skin of his chest, and even if he knows he shouldn’t, slender fingers gently stroke the warm skin of your shoulder.
You’re so fucking perfect when you sleep, your mind and body restoring the heartbreaks of the day.
He sniffs the air for courage. He blinks up at the ceiling he’s already killed countless spiders off of, the dark remains dried on the plaster. Your blankets never felt heavier, weighing him down and drowning him like rocks tied to his ankles.
All the while, next to him, you grunt in your sleep, resting easy.
He looks at the clock, brows furrowing in frustration as he’s already spent three minutes doing nothing.
Fuck. It’s time.
Before he changes his mind like a fool.
His head pounds as he takes the agonizingly slow sit up, the darkness of your room just barely mapping out a path he can take to sneak out the fastest. His arm slips out from under your head, and he lets out a tight breath when you roll onto your stomach.
With a soft sigh of relief and a nuzzle of your hair, he pulls the blankets higher on your shoulder so you keep warm, his rough hands smoothing down your back to soothe you into an impossibly deeper sleep. You smell sweet, you always do. Dabi prays to whatever entity to at least allow him to keep the memory of your addictive aroma in his mind.
He balls his hands into fists and stands up with haste, grabbing his jacket and trying his hardest to tiptoe silently out of the bedroom.
A floorboard creaks. The gods clearly don’t want this to be an easy task.
“Touya?” You whimper, and he winces at the familiar name that passes your sleepy lips.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Whe’ ya goin’?” You ask, voice still drunk with sleep and warm against the cold air, and he furrows his brows and snarls internally at the knowledge that you know he’s leaving for somewhere.
He wanted this to be a simple band-aid rip, a quick flurry of anger and tears, before succumbing to your scorn for his mere soul.
“Goin’ to piss,” he lies, shuffling back over to the bed to plant a kiss to your temple. “Go back to sleep.” He hears you hum happily, and you curl deeper into the pillows. He grits his teeth, fingernails biting into his palms as he lets out the quietest and most genuine “I love you,” he can muster. It’s not something he says often, but he may as well say it before he leaves your life for good.
“I love you, too,” you murmur back. You don’t ask or tease him about the random confession, nor do you seem to question it, and he decides to use that to his advantage. He takes one more long, selfish inhale of your addicting scent before working up the courage to push up and off the bed, long fingers scooping his coat once again before tiptoeing down the hallway.
Trembling fingers find the small amount of stationary next to your fridge, and he scribes a small little note so you can have the smallest bit of closure. He hates doing this at all, but it’s for the best.
Keys in the mailbox. Didn’t want someone comin in to steal you.
Im sorry. But you’ll be happier.
TT.
He tries not to imagine the way you’ll crumple to the floor and cry. He tries not to imagine the way you’ll spend days pleading, asking yourself what you did wrong when he knows it’s all his fucking fault. He doesn’t want to think of how you’ll now put every guy who wants you against him; he knows you’ll always put him on the highest tier.
He’s done so much already.
His shoes lay long discarded by the door, and he gnaws at his lip when he toes them on. He heart aches for you, the life you could’ve had, and he can only pray to whatever will listen that you can go back on the path you were supposed to take before he crashed into your life.
Until then?
He hopes you can despise him for doing this to you half as much as he does, himself.
He toes on his shoes. Takes one more longing look up the stairs. He shrugs on his coat and takes the spare key to lock up.
He walks down the driveway that you’ve run down to greet him so many times. He places the key in the mailbox he helped fix when little rat-ass kids hit it on their bikes. He takes another look up into the window the peers into your room where in a few hours, you’re going to sob and shake and plead and scream and ask the air why he’s gone and if he ever even cared, where you’re going to call him the most obscene names and taint every single memory you share with your heartbreak.
He soaks it in.
And then he walks down the street.
And he doesn’t look back to see the light in your room suddenly flick on.
-
@reverie-starlight IM NOT SAYING I RLLY WANT YOU TO READ THIS FOR ME BUT-
#I KINDA BLAME YOU FOR ENCOURAGING ME-#ahem take this ig#and lmk if it hits 🥲💕#touya todoroki#touya todoroki x reader#touya todoroki x gn!reader#touya todoroki angst#touya todoroki x reader angst#touya todoroki imagine#touya todoroki bnha#touya#touya x reader#touya x gn!reader#touya angst#touya x reader angst#touya imagine#touya bnha#dabi#dabi x reader#dabi x gn!reader#dabi x reader angst#dabi angst#dabi imagine#dabi bnha#bnha angst#bnha imagine#bnha x reader#bnha x gn!reader#bnha x gender neutral reader#bnha x you
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Thank you for all the love on part one! I wrote this a while ago and never got around to posting it. Not as long, but I may continue it eventually. Enjoy!
Lie to Me [Part 1]
🔞 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 🔞
Summary: Pregnancy angst, smut, & fluff
You lean back against Dabi and rest your hands on top of his. You can feel his heartbreak, like a tangible, living thing taking up space between the two of you, sucking all of the air out of the room.
You knew that he wanted to stay with you, to watch your child grow and to have a chance at being a better father than Enji could have ever been. You’d already spent countless hours imagining him with a little red headed boy or white haired girl on his hip, but in those fantasies, his scars were always gone, along with the anger and resentment that he’d been carrying around for years.
“I don’t wanna discipline you tonight, Doll,” he murmurs, distracting you from your thoughts as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. “I just wanna fuck ya hard enough to make up for an entire lifetime.”
Romance had never been his first language, but that was, by far, one of the most profoundly romantic things he’d ever said to you.
You swallow thickly while reaching back to tangle your hand in his hair.
“Yeah.” You say quietly, “Sounds good to me.”
“If I could...” He murmurs, sounding thoughtful as he presses a few open mouthed kisses along your throat, “I’d burn myself into your body so that you’ll never forget me.”
You smile ruefully while turning your head to kiss his temple, “As if I could ever forget you, Touya.”
He pauses and you can feel his chest rise and fall as he takes a deep breath.
“But maybe it would be better if you did,” he says while lacing his fingers through your own, “So that this kid never finds out who their father is.”
Your heart aches for him.
“I’ve already decided that this baby will know everything about you that is safe for them to know.” You say firmly, “No names, no gritty details, but they will at least understand what their father was fighting for.”
He scoffs and you can practically hear him roll his eyes, “Don’t make me out to be some kind of hero.”
You’re prepared to argue with him when he suddenly bites down on your neck, prompting you to shift your hips.
“Easy, baby,” he drawls as he slides his hand between your legs, easily pushing your panties aside in order to caress your already saturated cunt. “It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”
You hum in response.
“And your body is different now,” he says while slipping his free hand beneath your shirt to squeeze one of your swollen breasts, “More sensitive.”
You can feel him smiling against your throat as you gasp and arch your back. He was right, you’d undergone quite a few physical changes since you’d last seen him, yet he still seemed to crave you like a dying man thirsting for water.
He slides two fingers into your heat and starts pumping them in and out, using his knuckles to massage your inner walls in a way that makes you keen his name.
“That’s it, gorgeous,” he purrs while nuzzling his nose against your cheek, “Just like that.”
You can already feel his hard-on rubbing against your back and you innocently adjust your weight on the mattress in order to grind against him.
“Doll,” he snarls a warning while hiding his face in your hair.
“It’s been awhile for you, too, I see,” you say smugly.
He grunts, “Yeah, well, jerkin’ off in the shower to the thought of the last time we fucked doesn’t quite do ya justice. Now tell me where it is.”
“Huh?” Perplexed, you crane your neck to look at him, “Where what is?”
“The toy that you’ve been using.” He chuckles, “You can’t expect me to believe that someone with your libido hasn’t been touching herself every night.”
Embarrassment colors your cheeks as you eye the nightstand beside the bed. “It’s in the top drawer,” you admit quietly.
He leans around you in order to retrieve the toy with his free hand. Meanwhile, you hiss through clenched teeth as he purposefully curls his fingers into your g-spot.
“This pathetic-looking thing?” He snarks as he palms the small vibrator that had been keeping you sane all these months.
He turns it on and laughs, “Really?”
You crane your neck to glare at him, “It might not be a horse cock with piercings, but it still gets the job done!”
His blue eyes gleam with amusement in the dim lighting and when he speaks again, his voice is thick with lust, “I can tell how much your pussy has missed my horse cock because it keeps clamping down so fucking hard on my god damn fingers.”
The sudden vibration against your clit catches you by surprise and you struggle to bite back a moan as you squirm in his arms.
“Good girl,” he purrs, easily whittling away at your composure.
“Fuck, Touya...” You whine.
“Soon, baby. Soon.”
The next morning, when you wake to find him gone, you check to see if he’d fixed the lock on the window.
He had.
#lie to me#my writing#dabi x you#dabi x pregnant reader#touya x pregnant reader#mha x pregnant reader#mha smut#bnha smut#dabi smut#todoroki touya#touya smut#touya todoroki#dabi#dabi x reader#touya todoroki x you#touya angst#touya todoroki x reader#touya x you#touya todoroki angst#dabi angst#MHA#BNHA#mha angst#dabi fanfiction#touya fanfic#dabi fanfic#dabi x y/n#touya x y/n#mha fanfic#mha fanfiction
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Can you write one where it’s Dabi x villian reader and she gets fatally injured while they’re on a mission and Dabi tries help her but there’s nothing he can do. I need it to be really angsty.
Right Person, Not Enough Time {Dabi}
A/n: okay I love myself a good angst, especially when it is about Dabi, Dazai or Mammon from Obey Me so I will try to make this as angsty as possible
Pairing: Dabi x fem!villain!reader
Trigger warning: character death, mentions of fires, scars, mentions of slight self hatred
If Dabi knew that the mission was going to be so difficult he would have kept you slightly closer to him. It wasn't like he didn't trust you, or that he thought you couldn't defend yourself. He knew that you were powerful. He had witnessed is countless upon countless of times. Your quirk was one of the most powerful quirks he had ever witnessed and he had witnessed a lot. And it wasn't just your quirk, the way you fought was mesmerising.
But he couldn't help but... worry whenever you were on missions and he would have very much prefered it if he went to your place. There wasn't really a way in which he could explain it. The two of you weren't exactly together. There were a few casual one night stands here and there and you would both flirt with each other more often than 'just friends' do.
Despite that, you weren't together. He didn't know how you felt about him -hell he didn't even know how he felt himself; did he like you romantically or was it because of the fact that you weren't disgusted by his appearance?
He hadn't made any efforts to confess to you either. It wasn't out of fear of rejection, that was for sure. He had lived his life in such a way where he didn't feel anything. He had never come to terms with his feelings in general so when you appeared all of a sudden like that? No, he didn't want to even try and think about his growing feelings towards you.
Whether his feelings were clear or not, there was one thing he knew for certainty: he wanted to protect you. And if, after his plan was finished, there was a future for him then he wanted you to be in it.
So when he couldn't spot you in the middle of the fight with some pro heroes, he began going a little crazy.
"Where is she?" The collar of Shigaraki's jacket almost turned into ashes.
"What are you talking about?" Shigaraki continued looking at the fight from the roof of one of the nearby buildings, his calm demeanour almost eery.
And then there you were. He had a clear view of you from the roof of the building. Despite your abilities you were overpowered with three of the strongest pro heroes having surrounded you.
Dabi would have jumped if it wasn't a five stories building but for obvious reasons he couldn't so he ran down the external staircase as fast as he could. And if his legs didn't get him to you on time, he would chop them off with no second thoughts.
But when he reached the end of the staircase, not only had the pro heroes left but you were laying on the ground. You. His... love. The only person who saw him as a human being. One of the kindest people he knew. The person who had the most gentle hands and the softest skin his rough and scarred hands had ever touched. You were laying on the cold hard ground and not in the softest bed there was, surrounded by pillows and the warmest blankets.
"Oh... oh no, no, no." He only allowed himself to kneel next to you after having created a fire ring around you.
"Dabi."
"There's blood all over you." He had never heard himself sound so... worried. His hands were shaking as he slowly wrapped them around your body as gently as you had touched him, lifting you up to place you on his lap. "It's not your blood right?" He swallowed so hard you actually heard it. "Stop breathing so heavily, it pisses me off doll. Oh fuck where is this blood coming from."
"Me..." You groaned, shifting slightly in his arms.
"Well.... stop bleeding then I am here now as-"
"As what?"
Oh he knew what you were doing. You were playing a very dangerous game. A very very dangerous game.
"It doesn't matter, I'm not leaving until we fix this-"
"There's nothing to fix, love."
"There is. There is so much we have to fix, starting with that blood." He couldn't look you in the eyes. He was so focused on trying to figure out where your injury was. But he couldn't because there was just so much blood and the fact that he was crying bloody tears didn't help either.
"Fucking hell. I can't fix this if you don't tell me where-"
"Dabi?" Toga's voice never reached him.
"Just fucking talk to me, I can't fix this if you-"
"Were you thinking of me?"
That was such a strange question. He found your words so... not right. Why did it matter? It was not like you were going to die. And not once had you asked him something like this.
"Of course I was... hell... yes I was." He stuttered, taken aback. But then the words left his mouth so naturally as if he had been holding them back ever since he first laid his eyes upon you; which was actually the case. "I was thinking about you the whole time. Every. Single. Second."
"Good." You whispered.
"I mean of course I was. I would be crazy not to think about you. I would be crazy without you, don't be silly doll." He chuckled.
"Twice...?" Toga turned to look at the man and if Dabi had turned to look at her then he would have seen that she was crying as well. And so was Twice.
"And if you were to leave me I'd drive myself crazy." He continued. "But why are you asking that." He finally looked at your face with blood coming out of his burnt tear ducts. "Come on." He shook your body slightly. "Answer me, come on."
"Twice..." Toga's voice broke as she turned towards the older man.
"Let him be... may she rest in peace."
#dabi x reader#touya todoroki x reader angst#dabi mha#dabi bnha#boku no hero academia dabi#writing#anime and manga#anime#manga#boku no hero academia dabi x reader#boku no hero academia x reader#boku no hero academia#my hero acaemia#my hero academia x reader#touya todoroki angst#touya angst#touya todoroki#bnha dabi x reader#bnha dabi#bnha x reader#bnha
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ONE LAST THING I SWEAR TO GOD- I HAVW SHIT TO DO TODAY BUT I HAVE YOUR BLOG NOTIFS ON AND I CANT HELP MYSELF
he regularly gets nightmares you left him or disappeared and he wakes up crying more than half the time 🧍he's sent himself into a half-asleep panic attack more than once.
:)
I'm making myself sad and you're coming down with me -🎃
I— THIS IS SO FUCKING— I’M SO— YOU— WHAT DO I— LISTEN—
I’M CRYING OKAY?????? I’M. FUCKING. CRYING.
poor baby he looks like someone cold, distand and who’s better off alone to others, but he’s actually someone who chooses wisely who he keeps close to himself which is why most of the time dabi keeps everyone at an arm length distance. yet when you come around his defenses are all down and he just wants to be with you so much. that’s why he gets super clingy, chasing you around and holding onto you for dear life.
dabi doesn’t have that great of a self-esteem (thanks to that piece of garbage), he didn’t even think he could make you stick around him for this long.
he lives in constant fear of failing you, too.
but that somehow made dabi hold onto you tighter and his love for you only grew more as day went by, which mixed with his fear of you leaving him brought us to our poor boy starting to have nightmares where you leave him and disappear into thin air, leaving by himself in a dark space where there isn’t your warmth to comfort him.
this has him let out a sob not only inside his dream but in real life, laid beside you, too. his breath starts to get heavy and sobs start to erupt more frantically alarming you, who are now sat up looking at dabi worried, while his body is spasming as he calls out your name, begging you to not leave him because he can’t live without you.
after you put gently your hand over his forehead moving some strand of hair, that had sticked to his skin from the sweat, dabi wakes up with an hoarse raspy gasp making his eyes flicker around the room in panic before they settle on you and just like that relief washes over him at once.
you were there with him. you didn’t left. and that was the only thing that mattered to him.
he swallowed thickly covering the upper part of his face with his palm, trying to collect himself, apologising for waking you up and saying that you could go back to sleep now.
you pressed your lips in a thin line while lowering your upper body onto his encircling his neck with your arms, telling him that there’s no way you could go back to sleep peacefully when he’s suffering and while feeling tears come to your eyes you add that there’s also no way on earth that you would even just think of leaving him, biting back a sob as you bury your face onto his neck.
dabi stood there for a second with wide eyes before hugging your waist tightly, muttering about how of course you ain’t leaving him that’s because he ain’t gonna let you go.
#kelin responds#answered#🎃 anon#bnha angst#mha angst#dabi angst#touya todoroki angst#bnha x reader angst#mha x reader angst#dabi x reader angst#touya todoroki x reader angst#but hang tf on— how did this turn from fluff to angst???????#i genuinely cried while writing all this what the—#no cause listen dabi deserves only happiness and the whole universe actually—#if there's a character in this serie that deserves absolute happiness that's HIM for sure!!!!!
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fixation, psychosis, or a secret third thing (love)
Summary: Dabi used to feel so much, but, ever since his accident, he hasn’t felt a damn thing. Not genuinely anyway. Not physically. His nerves are fried. His organs barely work. It’ll be a miracle if Hawks will be able to make him feel anything…
OR
Dabi ends up falling for a hero…Hawks ends up regretting everything.
DabiHawksWeek 2024: Prompt Seven: Songfic
Inspired by: Far Too Young To Die by Panic! At The Disco
THIS WORK IS 18+ ONLY! TAGS BENEATH THE KEEP READING SECTION
Word Count: 5,647 words
AO3 link
Tags: DabiHawks, songfic, angst, smvt, Dabi-typical body h0rror, vom!ting, a little big of canon divergence, doomed relationship, DabiHawksWeek2024, DHWeekNSFW24, swearing, s3xual content, bratty b0ttom Dabi, top Hawks, making out, a n a l f!ngering, gay s3x, a n a l s3x, Dabi cries blood, identity reveal on a first name basis, implied past prostitution, Dabi can't feel pain (or anything on the outside but the inside is fair game), Hawks is a master manipulator but it's not his fault bc the HPSC brainwashed him, Dabi has his manga body type, seduction, trust issues, accidental branding
*******************************************************************
Dabi stands at the harbor under the moonlight, pressing the pads of his fingers into the scars under his eyelids, blood wetting his fingertips as he tries to stop the bleeding. There are a handful of reasons why he’s crying…well…as much as Dabi is able to cry. Whenever he gets worked up, blood simply leaks from his fucked up tear ducts, threatening to burst the staples and welling up into his eyes until all he can see is crimson. It should be painful…but Dabi hasn’t felt anything in years. Dabi used to feel so much, but, ever since his accident, he hasn’t felt a damn thing. Not genuinely anyway. Not physically. His nerves are fried. His organs barely work. The only thing that still seems to be unwavering is his mind and his heart, ironically, considering the world believes him to be an insane, unfeeling killer. Admittedly, he does believe he’s gone insane, plagued with nightmares of his victim’s families…of what might’ve happened if he stayed in that hospital when he woke up from a coma…of what happened on the mountain that fateful night. Dabi barely slept at all anymore, scared of what might be waiting for him when he slipped into unconsciousness. It was only when his body forcibly shut down…or when he felt himself forcibly shutting down that he would sleep…if you could even call it sleeping. Lately though, his nightmares have changed. Lately, they’ve been filled with a certain pair of red wings…and they might not even be classified as nightmares anymore.
Dabi was, laughably, down bad for quite possibly the first time ever in his life. This meeting in particular had proved it. The rush he got from Hawks pulling the feather blade on him…pressing it neatly against his throat in a way that made Dabi’s skin crawl deliciously. It was a miracle he had kept his cool at all, simply putting up the uncaring front he’d crafted over the years. He found his mask slipping ever so slightly, the flirtatious tone in his voice painfully apparent when he nonchalantly pushed away the sword. He could see it in Hawks’ eyes…something wavered. That airtight hero persona flickered into nothingness for less than a moment. Was it reciprocation? Disgust? Confusion? Dabi didn’t know. He’d learned to not use the word hope anymore, so he couldn’t decide exactly what he thought about it.
It’s part of the reason why he’s crying. It’s that he feels like…if it is…if it is that word he refuses to think…then he doesn’t deserve it. Besides, what if Hawks really is a scummy double agent, and it would all be for nothing. His paranoia pounds against his skull, wrestling intimately with his heart. Why would Hawks ever be interested in him ? His face looks disgusting. There’s the threat that he’ll burst into flames and kill them both if he gets too worked up. He doesn’t even have any education past middle school. Hawks, on the other hand, has been trained by the Commission for roughly seventy percent of his life up to this point, getting the best education, the best clothes, the best doctors…the best…everything. Dabi hasn’t had a proper checkup in…who knows how long. He knew he was clean and that was enough. The only doctor he could really go to was Ujiko…and he’d rather just die than ask him for anything…not after what he almost did.
Truly…he feels pathetic. He’s never been good enough for anyone…not for his family…not for himself…not for this rotten society…why would he be good enough for Hawks? Why should he allow any sort of delusion into his life when he’d been carefully constructing his revenge? Why should he leave any room for Hawks to throw a wrench into his plans?
The cold air whips through Dabi’s inky black hair, and he squints up at the constellations, unable to make anything out through his shitty vision. He takes a deep breath before pulling the microphone in the collar of his jacket up to his mouth.
“Ready, Ujiko,” Dabi sighs, the revolting sensation of black muck pooling in his stomach and surging up his throat. Dabi lurches, the dark ooze pouring out of his mouth and surrounding him. For a few seconds, he’s suffocating, until the murkiness clears and he’s standing in the doctor’s laboratory.
…
…
Dabi’s alone, sitting on the couch of the League’s temporary hideaway, staring at the ceiling, wishing that a certain Pro Hero was sitting on it with him. He can’t get their warehouse interaction out of his head. Was Hawks really so ignorant as to think that Dabi’s incapable of thinking long-term? That’s been his whole shtick ever since he’d been living on the streets, biding his time and contemplating his vengeance. Hawks was supposed to be one of the top heroes in the nation, just a few points shy of…that thing . Perhaps Dabi really had succeeded with his plan, covering up his emotionally reactive nature with a cold and callous facade.
BZZT! BZZT!
The burner phone on the table vibrates. Only one person has the number to that phone. A sly smirk spreads across Dabi’s face as he grabs it, accepting the call and holding it to his scarred ear.
“Crawling back to me so soon?” Dabi sneers, prompting an irritated snort from Hawks on the other end of the phone.
“Just wanted confirmation that you’re not gonna pull a little stunt on me again,” The hero’s voice is low and laced with annoyance; it fills Dabi’s veins with a sick thrill.
“Live and learn, hero . You never could control me. There was never a point. You’re the one that still needs to prove yourself,” Dabi trills flirtatiously into the phone, the tension so thin you could cut it with a butter knife. “But…what happened the other day was…unfortunate.”
“I understand that plans change…I just would’ve liked a little heads up,” Hawks sighs, but his sudden change in tone sets off Dabi’s paranoia.
“You can’t trace this call,” He spits into the phone, his voice taking on a malicious edge, and Hawks clicks his tongue.
“I’m not…just…waiting to see what your next task for me is. I’m too fast for my own good. You know the slogan. Wanna be on top of this.”
“What, so you can betray me faster?” Dabi snaps.
The silence is chilling.
“I want you to trust me, Dabi. I’m genuinely interested. If you’ve done your research you know those bastards got their claws into me early. I started my first agency at eighteen. I could’ve been a normal kid with a normal life. Record-breaking is nice…but it would be nicer to be free.”
“That’s what I’m here for…to complicate and corrupt your little bird brain,” Dabi sneers, still struggling to buy Hawks’ words…but part of him desperately wants to. Hawks could just be whispering sweet nothings to placate him…but…what if… Dabi takes a deep breath. One final task to truly prove himself…Hawks has to take a life for Dabi.
“I’ve got a job for you alright.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The only thing running through Dabi’s mind when he walks off the stage in the basement of the Gunga Mountain Villa is that he wonders if Hawks showed up. Hawks successfully slaughtering Best Jeanist was the hottest thing anyone’s ever done for him…and, if he didn’t think he was attracted to Hawks before, he sure as hell was sure of it now.
The PLF members part, giving Dabi a wide berth as he strides through the crowd, eyeing him warily like he’s a bomb waiting to go off. To be fair, he killed a number of their comrades…but they fucking deserved it. It was kill or be killed…and he just happened to be better at killing. Embarrassingly, Dabi’s eyes light up when he spots a familiar pair of crimson wings through the sea of anarchists.
‘You’re too attached…’ Dabi’s thoughts degrade himself for allowing his emotions to slip through the cracks. Hawks is schmoozing with a woman…probably a fan with the way she’s acting all giddy. Something in the back of Dabi’s mind tells him to char her where she stands, but he swallows it down. He doesn’t need anyone else to catch on to his thing with Hawks…whatever the thing was…fleeting touches…light flirting…staring a little too long at one another…yet, neither of them had made a real move.
“You look happy, number two, up to somethin’?” Dabi raises his eyebrow as he approaches the Pro Hero.
“Nah, man. I was just waitin’ for you,” Hawks chuckles with a bright smile, and Dabi would be lying if he said he wouldn’t burn a thousand innocents to see that stupid smile for the rest of his days.
“You know…I wasn’t even sure you were gonna show,” Dabi mutters as they make their way through the crowd. Hawks is walking close enough to Dabi that their hands slightly brush against one another, but Dabi barely even registers it.
“Of course I’d show up for you ,” Hawks smirks, batting his eyelashes enough for Dabi to notice, regrettably making his heart skip a beat.
“Don’t flatter me,” Dabi mutters tersely as they reach the doors leading to the exit corridor.
“C’mon, Dabs. You think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me?” Hawks whispers, just loud enough for Dabi to hear. “Why don’t we move this conversation to your bedroom?”
Dabi nearly chokes on his own spit, completely caught off guard by Hawks’ forwardness as he stops in his tracks. Sure, Hawks could just be seducing him for intel, but goddamnit if Dabi didn’t want him on top of him right now. Even if he couldn’t physically feel anything…Dabi at least wanted him to try . If he would just try, then it would be enough. It would be more than anyone else had ever done for him. He feels pathetic…pathetic for even letting these types of thoughts enter his brain…pathetic for romanticizing the idea… He’s supposed to be focused on one goal and one goal alone. Hawks isn’t a part of his plan…but…maybe…
“Hello? Dabi?” Hawks chuckles, waving his hand in front of the villain’s face. Dabi blinks, mouth dry and throat scratchy, zoning back into the world.
“Why?” The word falls from Dabi’s lips, full of confusion and apprehension. Why would Hawks want him if it wasn’t for intel? His body…he hasn’t… Dabi swallows, painfully aware of his own breathing pattern as memories come fluttering back to the front of his brain…memories that he’d pushed down. Before the league…after he woke up…living on the street…what he had to do just to get enough money for food… Sex with Hawks didn’t seem like it would mirror those memories though… Sex with Hawks sounded gentle… It sounded like he wouldn’t be treated like a toy. It sounded like Hawks would take care of him…and…isn’t that really one of the things that he’s always wanted? To be taken care of? For someone to look at him? For someone to make him feel like he’s worth it?
“Because you’ve got a thing for me…and I’ve got a thing for you? Unless I’ve misunderstood something. Thought most of your talk was flirty…even if it was on the meaner side. Why don’t we celebrate your promotion, lieutenant ,” Hawks shrugs with a cheeky smile, and Dabi doesn’t know what to think. Surely, he’s not that easy to read. No one else has managed to see through him…until now. Was he really even trying to hide it? Was he really staring that much? He’d be an idiot not to take this chance. It’s not like anyone else will ever want to be with him anyway…hell…Hawks might change his mind, too. Dabi looks around, making sure that they’re not being watched before grabbing Hawks’ wrist and pulling him behind a pillar.
“Hawks…I need you to know something…if…if we’re really gonna do this,” Dabi mutters, trying to piece together his thoughts appropriately.
“Hm?” Hawks hums, raising an eyebrow, waiting for Dabi to continue.
Dabi speaks incredibly vaguely, omitting names and locations and time frames, giving an extremely watered-down version of the state of his body and why. He also explains that it’ll be a miracle if Hawks will be able to make him feel anything at all...that his inability to feel physical pain also translated to an inability to feel physical pleasure. He hates the look in the hero’s eyes…he doesn’t want pity…but…there’s also clear determination in his gaze.
Before Dabi can open his mouth, Hawks is kissing him.
It’s such a strange sensation. He can’t feel the kiss…not really . Not the soft, tender kiss that Hawks gently presses to his lips. He can’t feel the hand that’s cupping the side of his face, just a ghost of a sensation that might’ve happened. Dabi’s eyelids flutter closed, and he attempts to kiss Hawks back, moving his lips in a way that he thinks is right…still…he practically feels nothing physically. That is…until Hawks licks deliberately into his mouth. Hawks’ warm tongue meets Dabi’s hot one, and…he can feel it; the villain eagerly jabs his tongue, sliding against Hawks’ and going further into his mouth. Hawks nearly yelps when Dabi starts practically tongue-fucking his mouth, the stitches in his tongue brushing against Hawks’ lip as Dabi traces his molars. Hawks groans…a sound that Dabi immediately becomes addicted to, and Dabi wraps his arms around the hero, grasping at the back of his jacket and pulling him close.
Finally, they both come up for air.
“Fuck, your tongue’s long,” Hawks snickers, wiping the spit from his lips with the back of his gloved hand, and Dabi swears he feels blood rushing to his cheeks and his groin. Despite his fears, Hawks has at least turned him on…which is a start. He wants more …more of this animalistic sensation that he’s gone his whole life without. He wants the electricity of mutual worship and raw pleasure.
“Let’s get outta here, birdie.”
…
…
Dabi didn’t care who saw them. Not anymore. He practically dragged Hawks up staircase after staircase, through the halls of villa, eventually through his door before slamming and locking it behind them.
“Gotta ask. You clean?” Hawks clears his throat as he slips out of his jacket, draping it over the chair at Dabi’s desk.
“Yeah…you?” Dabi mutters uncomfortably, thankful that he was able to speak truthfully. He follows Hawks’ lead, letting the conductor cuffs of his jacket fall to the floor.
“Course I’m clean. HPSC regulations,” Hawks replies curtly, and, then, he’s all over the villain once again.
This time, it’s Dabi who moans, wanton and needy as his tongue massages Hawks’, and the two manage to sloppily kick off their shoes as the hero walks the villain backward until they’re both falling onto his bed. Dabi’s fingers run through Hawks’ hair, pulling him as close as humanly possible as Hawks’ hands grip the scars on his shoulders.
“Lube?” Hawks murmurs breathlessly between kisses.
“Nightstand drawer,” Dabi answers into Hawks’ open mouth, tongues intertwining. Dabi feels the faint wind from Hawks’ feathers, hearing the opening and closing of a drawer in the darkness.
Dabi sharply inhales when he feels Hawks’ hands at the hem of his shirt. How is Hawks going to react to his patchworked body of skin that doesn’t even belong to him? I mean…yeah, he’s seen his arms…but…the rest of him? Dabi certainly didn’t have Hawks’ body…with all his curves of muscle that Dabi had seen in a swimsuit magazine once. Dabi hated how he looked…he hated seeing himself in the mirror…a modern-day Frankenstein, only recently having enough to eat to put some weight on his formerly skeletal frame. By comparison, Hawks was a Greek god…though compared to anyone , that metaphor would still suffice. He’s so lost in his thoughts that he never noticed Hawks freeze when Dabi flinched.
“If you’re not comfortable we can stop,” Hawks murmurs reassuringly, letting the pulled fabric fall back on Dabi’s pale lower stomach. The sentence almost makes Dabi sob, the gentleness in Hawks’ voice…it’s almost too much. Dabi isn’t used to anyone being gentle with him.
“I want this,” Dabi rasps, the dull throbbing under his eyes starting up again, blood threatening to seep through.
Hawks smiles, eyes sultry and seductive. Tenderly, he lifts up Dabi’s shirt, mindful of the staples, avoiding snagging; when the last of it lifts off of Dabi’s head, a few feathers send it over to the chair with Hawks’ jacket. Dabi holds his breath, waiting for Hawks to comment about his body…waiting for his lips to curl and his nose to wrinkle and for him to walk away and pretend this never happened.
Instead, Hawks’ fingertips carefully trace over Dabi’s scars that run between his pecs and stomach, like he’s memorizing a map.
“You’re beautiful,” The hero whispers, and the muscle beating in Dabi’s chest twists. Dabi reaches around Hawks’ neck, unclasping the button above his wings that holds his top on. Hawks grins before stepping off the bed to unhook his belt and pull off his pants, which is when Dabi realizes that his top has been a leotard this whole time. In his aroused state, he fumbles with his own belt to get his pants and boxers off, and, when he’s finally successful, Hawks is on top of him again. The Pro doesn’t even bat an eye at the obvious skin grafts or the healed stitches on his dick that didn’t need staples…he doesn’t make fun of him when he sees the scars that border stretch marks on his thighs and lead down to his ankles. Hawks’ gaze is full of devotion…full of emotions and words that Dabi doesn’t think he deserves. And yet…here they are…vulnerable…skin-to-skin. Hawks mouths at Dabi’s neck, sinking his teeth hard enough into his skin for Dabi to be aware of it, and the whimper that bursts from his throat is more than embarrassing. Dabi’s face flushes, unable to fully grasp the heat of Hawks’ body pressed against him…unable to sense the way his hands dance up and down his sides…or the way his lips caress the scars. Dabi’s too focused on their staggered breaths to hear the subtle squeeze of lube on Hawks’ fingers.
The moment Hawks slips a finger inside him, Dabi’s putty in his hands, moaning and groaning like a bitch in heat as he flexes against the slow roll of Hawks’ knuckle, trying to get more friction. His insides…there’s sensation there…an overwhelming amount compared to his outsides. He’s inconsolable, mouth agape, blood threatening to spill beneath his eyes as he tries not to cry from the pleasure. He didn’t know sex could feel this good…and fuck did he feel good. It felt personal…it had meaning …things that Dabi desperately craved.
“You’re so gorgeous like this, Dabi,” Hawks croons, lube dripping from the villain’s hole as the hero continues to pump his finger in and out. The response is only a weak groan that’s halfway between a gasp and a sob as Dabi’s arms grab at Hawks’ neck, pulling him down for a filthy kiss. Hawks’ eyelids flutter shut as he obliges to Dabi’s greedy gesture, slipping his tongue into the villain’s mouth, tracing his scarred bottom lip. Dabi, out of practice and overwhelmed, practically sticks his tongue down Hawks’ throat, whimpering and silently pleading for more. He wanted to feel more. It was heaven to finally feel …and for the sensations to be ecstasy.
“You want another one?” Hawks whispers, voice sweeter than nectar, and Dabi nods, wincing as the hero coaxes a second finger inside. The stretch is foreign, mildly uncomfortable, but Dabi’s so used to being numb that he doesn’t care. Hawks delicately curls his fingers, the rhythmic motion making heat coil in the pit of Dabi’s stomach…heat that is far different from the fire he’s used to. Dabi cries out as his muscles relax, allowing another finger to disappear inside him. To Dabi, hours have passed, maybe even days, time no longer has any meaning as his tongue swirls around Hawks’, sucking on his bottom lip as their heated breaths fill the night air. Hawks whispers soft praises between slutty lip locks, comforting Dabi all the while until the pain resolves and pleasure pulses through the villain. Hawks takes note of how much the muscle gives and decides to carefully pull his fingers out, leaving Dabi practically writhing beneath him, half-hard for the first time in who knows how long.
Hawks’ eyes flutter shut, head tilting back and giving Dabi a full view of his pulsing jugular as he smooths lube over his erection. Feathers gently spread Dabi’s legs, pushing them up so Hawks can get a perfect view of his hole as he prepares to slip inside.
“Wait,” Dabi blurts, heart pounding and blood roaring in his ears.
“Having second thoughts?” Hawks raises his eyebrow.
“Touya.” The name leaves Dabi’s lips before he can take it back. It’s too late.
Hawks cocks his head, confused. Dabi can’t turn back now.
“My name…My real name. It’s Touya. You can…you can call me Touya,” Dabi reveals, his voice quivering.
The corners of Hawks’ eyes…usually so sharp, focused, and calculated, seem to soften.
“Mine’s Keigo.” Too late for Hawks to take back the secret that the Commission would severely punish him for leaking. It felt…right. It felt right to finally speak it aloud…and it felt right to exchange this secret with Dabi…sanity be damned.
“Keigo…that’s cute,” Touya smiles, relief washing over him. They’ve both shared something intrinsic. Something precious. It makes Touya feel…safe. He can’t remember the last time he actually felt safe.
Breath hisses through Touya’s gritted teeth as Keigo’s tip slowly stretches him open, pain mixing with undeniable pleasure.
“Fuck,” Touya whines, hating how stupid his voice must sound all twisted and submissive, but Keigo is intoxicated by it. Inch by inch, Keigo pushes inside, punching the air from Touya’s lungs until they’re skin-to-skin.
“Just breathe,” Keigo mutters reassuringly, letting the villain’s body get accustomed. Touya feels so… full . That’s the best way he can describe it. He feels…grounded…which is saying a lot considering most days he feels like a vengeful spirit floating through purgatory. At the same time, Keigo tries not to swoon at how hot Dabi’s insides feel wrapped around his cock.
Dabi’s dick twitches, his chest rising and falling, mind numb and yet so alive all at once. His brain is fuzzy, drowning in pleasure as he swallows hard, taking in all of the new ethereal sensations floating through his body, feeling the pain ebb.
“I’m ready,” He rasps, saliva pooling in his mouth as Keigo’s hips rock, and Touya winces at the friction.
“Easy, baby,” Keigo purrs, and Touya’s brain melts at the pet name.
“ Keigo ,” He moans his name without thinking, and the hero almost disintegrates from the raw emotions that surge through his body upon hearing that word spoken in that voice.
“Oh, Touya, ” Keigo groans, his tone mimicking the villain’s as he carefully digs his fingers into Touya’s unscarred hips as he grinds, watching his cock vanish and reappear over and over and over again. His golden eyes lift up, meeting Touya’s glittering turquoise, and, frankly, he thinks Touya looks angelic right now, blissed out with flushed cheeks, sweaty and uncoordinated and…gorgeous.
Hawks fully assumed this approach to Dabi would end in senseless fucking…chasing pleasure selfishly…but he was eighty-five percent sure they were genuinely making love right now. Dabi desperately grabs for Hawks, fingers finding purchase and sinking fingernails into his thick biceps.
“Can we ~ fuck~ can we kiss - ah- please?” Touya’s broken voice practically begs, and he can’t believe he’s fucking resorted to begging but if he doesn’t taste Hawks’ tongue soon he might just explode. The request makes Hawks’ heart flip in his chest…he’s never reached this level of intimacy with anyone before…and it’s with Dabi of all people? Keigo dips down, never once breaking his sensual rhythm of rolling his hips as his lips meet the villain’s.
Touya gasps into the kiss, hands reaching up to tangle in Hawks’ blonde locks, holding him so he can’t break free. Touya’s inhumanly long tongue slithers into Hawks’ mouth, tracing his soft palate and massaging his tongue before he pulls away with a cry as Hawks changes the angle. Keigo delicately touches Touya’s prostate with his tip, and Touya’s thighs shake feebly.
“You feel so good , Touya,” Keigo huffs, face inches away from the villain. They lock eyes once again, the eye contact stabbing through their souls. The praise goes right to Touya’s cock, which would be painfully hard if Touya could even feel it. His insides feel like they’re on fire with desire…ecstasy boiling in his veins like a raging inferno. He didn’t know these types of sensations could even exist…especially for him. He grabs onto Keigo, palms splaying in the space between his wings, fingernails scratching red lines against Hawks’ back. The heat coils in the pit of his stomach…and then…Touya feels his emotions feed into his Quirk.
“Not safe…gonna… hah~ah! Oh fuck, I’m gonna burn you!” Touya warns, red blurring his vision as he feels the flames prickling beneath his skin.
In Hawks’ mind, he has to let him do it. If he wants Dabi to trust him, he has to let him do it. His Achilles’ heel…this is quite possibly the most dangerous thing he’s ever done. He’s going to risk his wings catching on fire…all to ease the process of getting as much intel as possible. After this, he doubts Dabi will let him out of his sight much. Not that Hawks wasn’t enjoying this. Dabi was attractive…to Hawks at least. Even if the majority of it was for show, Hawks was into Dabi…at least a little bit. Enough for him to feel like he's fucking with feelings involved...enough for him to tell him his first name.
“It’s fine,” Hawks chokes out, his languid thrusts rhythmically slamming into Dabi.
“Don’t wanna hurt you,” Touya sobs into his ear, and he can’t even believe those words are coming out of his mouth after everything he’s done. He can’t fathom the fact that he doesn’t want to hurt Hawks. The hero blinks, abruptly taken aback; if anything, he’d assumed Dabi was a sadist.
“It’s okay,” Keigo grunts, and that’s all Dabi needs to hear before he’s uncontrollably “crying”, rivers of red pouring from his lower eyelids and out from underneath the scars in his eyes. The smell of blood catches Hawks off guard, but Dabi had warned him about this…about the state of his body.
Touya completely loses his composure when he comes, hips stuttering, legs clamping tightly against Hawks’ waist, palms igniting in searing heat in the space between Keigo’s wings. Dabi gasps, trying his best to turn the heat down and quiet his Quirk, more bloody tears streaking down his face when he hears Keigo stifling anguished curses.
Keigo keeps going, fucking Touya through his orgasm, pulling moan after moan from Touya’s throat until the climax shoots lightning down his spine and into the villain.
The fire stops...the sound of sizzling skin fills the air.
When Hawks pulls out, the emptiness almost throws Touya into a pit of despair, and blood seeps out of his eyes for the millionth time that night. He shudders, feeling like that lost little kid on the streets again…alone. Almost immediately, Hawks' wings come cascading over the two of them, encasing Dabi in a crimson cocoon…safe…and intimate. His heart stills…the memories drift away…his mind settles. The sudden calm he’s experiencing…merely at his touch…There’s no other possible explanation. Dabi’s in love…with a hero .
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Four months later, Keigo Takami finds himself unable to sleep. Ironically, he’d been sleeping in Dabi’s bed just fine, vulnerable next to one of Japan’s most wanted. It felt…wrong. What he is doing is wrong. He knows it in his heart and his gut…but…he can’t turn back now. Killing Twice is going to be the second hardest thing Keigo will ever have to do…the first will be betraying Dabi’s trust. Trust that was so painstakingly hard to earn…trust that Dabi probably would never have in anyone else again…and it would be all Keigo’s fault.
His duty is more important than such trivial things like feelings…that’s what the HPSC has taught him. But…a part of him…a part of him has grown soft. It was what he had silently been afraid of, though the Commission leader reassured him that they thought he was the one person who could do it. They told him to get information and trust by any means necessary…even if it meant sleeping with Dabi. After all, he was one of the only people they couldn’t find any intel on…what better way to get closer ?
Originally, Hawks was disturbed by the thought. The idea of sleeping with a villain …someone who’s stolen innocent lives for his own sick and twisted ideals…ideals that solely focused on burning everything Hawks stood for to the ground. But…as time went on…he felt like he got to know Dabi better...especially once the dam broke, and Dabi spilled. Unconsciously, he was humanized in Hawks’ mind…no… Keigo’s mind. Keigo knew bits and pieces of his past…and Keigo knew his first name. The only leads he had to go on…but…he hadn’t shared them yet. It felt…wrong. Once again. On the other side of the coin. It would be wrong for him to divulge intricate pieces of information that weren’t pertinent to his mission. Keigo’s morals tended to get the best of him when he found loopholes. Because he also knew Dabi as a person now. He knew he hated fish. He knew what side of the bed he preferred to sleep on. He knew what his favorite constellation was. He knew the villain intimately…which he had never planned on.
Keigo sits up in bed, turning to look at Dabi’s sleeping form. He’d found it was easy to tire Dabi out after an orgasm or two; Dabi even said it made him less likely to have nightmares, but that might’ve just been bullshit.
Tomorrow…the war begins. Tomorrow…he has to break Dabi’s heart. Keigo feels his chest tighten and his throat close. Oh, he’s in too deep. He’s proving the Commission leader wrong…he isn’t perfect.
Dabi stirs, grumbling curses as he sleepily blinks awake, roused by Keigo’s soft stifled sobs. Keigo hurriedly starts wiping away tears; he can’t be weak in front of Dabi . Especially if they’re going to potentially kill each other tomorrow. Oh God…the thought of killing Touya ? Tears silently stream down the hero’s face.
“Are you…are you crying?”
The question cuts through the air like a knife.
“Bad dream.”
You could hear a pin drop in Dabi’s bedroom. Keigo thumbs away his tears, but they keep coming. The hero pulls his knees to his chest, putting his head down.
“Hey, uh…I don’t give a shit if you cry…I used to be a big crybaby before my tear ducts got fucked up,” Dabi scoffs, using self-deprecation to ease the tension as he props himself up on his elbows, trying to catch Keigo’s silhouette in the thin rays of moonlight that pour in through the window. Touya takes a deep breath, sitting up beside Keigo before apprehensively putting the palm of his hand in the space between Keigo’s wings, rubbing the scarred shape of his handprint from their first time. It felt disgusting to care, but Dabi couldn’t ignore it anymore.
The motion of Touya rubbing his back almost makes Keigo cry even harder. He’s going to lose this forever. He’s going to absolutely destroy Touya. He has to. He has no choice; he doesn’t want that bright future he’s always envisioned to be snuffed out by the PLF’s plans. If he doesn’t kill Twice…so many lives will be lost…so many innocents…Keigo’s heart isn’t worth that price. Keigo isn’t worth that price. Keigo can’t see through the tears and the shadows, and he doesn’t know how he’s not openly losing it. He’s sitting there like a statue…eerily still.
Touya, half-asleep and completely out of his fucking mind, decides the best way to distract Keigo is to say:
“Hey…uh…this might be a bad time…but…I want you to know…that…I lo-”
'Fuck .'
That does it. Hawks has to completely shut Keigo down. The tears stop flowing. He can’t let his mission be compromised. He has to stick to his guns…stick to everything the Commission has driven into him since he was a child. Before Dabi can finish his sentence, Hawks turns to face him…and kisses him.
For once …Dabi feels everything. Touya feels the passion in the kiss. He feels how desperately Hawks clings to him, sucking on the unburned flesh of his top lip, gently tracing Dabi’s tongue with his own, teeth clicking together. Touya kisses him back, fingers fluttering through feathers, and they fall back onto the pillows.
One last kiss…one last kiss while they’re far too young to die…but they just might kill each other in the morning…
#my hero academia fanfiction#dhweeknsfw24#dabihawksweek24#dabihawksweek 2024#dabihawks#dabihawks angst#dabihawks smut#dabi x hawks#toukei#dabi smut#hawks smut#dabi#hotwings#fanfic#ao3 writer#keigo takami#touya todoroki angst#dabi angst#hawks angst#dabihawks fic#dabihawks fanfic
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Dabi would burn the whole world to the ground if it meant you got to live; for a world without you is not worth living in at all. (it's a long one sorry not sorry)
readers quirk: healer's breath - you can take the injuries and pain of others for yourself and your body converts it into carbon dioxide to exhale - the more severe the problem, the longer it takes to expelled and that pain is yours until it's all gone..
pairings: dabi x fem!reader
genre: slight angst, fluff (nevermind all angst with a little fluff)
warnings: mild drug use (weed), character death (reader - I'M SO SORRY)
recommended song: gasoline by halsey
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You were a normal person. Sure you had a quirk but you weren't a hero or a villain. And Dabi loved the normalcy he could experience whenever he was with you. He wanted to keep it that way...to protect you from the hell that came with being on either side of that coin. To protect the nights spent dancing to soft music in the kitchen of your tiny apartment while dinner cooked. The early mornings spent watching you rush around as your get ready for your shifts at the hospital. For someone so seemingly ordinary...to him...to him you were magnificent in every way.
But he should have known this peace wouldn't last for long. Shigaraki had found out about you and looked into your quirk and now he was interested. There wasn't a healer in the League yet but he wanted there to be. As much as Dabi played by his own rules and wanted to keep the two of you apart, he didn't want to get you killed.
That's how you ended up where you are today. You hadn't wanted to join the League...but with Shigaraki threatening both you and the man you love, you felt you had little choice. Dabi hated every second you were around the rest of the villains. Toga's tendency to crave the blood of people she took a liking to was unnerving. The others were tolerant of you but it was clear they weren't happy you were there any more than the two of you. Kurogiri, Compress and Spinner were a little more welcoming but wary of bringing a civilian into the group. You weren't desensitised to all the violence and it was evidently taking its toll on you. Dabi kept you away as often as he could, taking you back to your apartment and trying to maintain the mundane peace you felt in each other's presence. But he could see the spark slowly leaving your eyes with every mission that spread your quirk too thin. You could take away people's injuries and pain, your body converting them into carbon dioxide for you to exhale. But the more severe the issue, the longer it took for you to expel...and until it was all gone, that pain was yours to bear.
That night, you writhed in agony beside Dabi in the bed you often shared. Magne had received broken ribs during the attack at the training camp, and during a brief confrontation with the green-haired boy, you'd taken some of his pain too (not that the others needed to know that). It had your temperature rising and tears streaming down your face. Dabi felt hopeless, there was nothing he could do but hold you and soothe the ache in your soul with comforting words and gentle touches.
"I could kill him..." he muttered angrily, "I could kill him and we'd be free. We all would."
Your grip on the front of his shirt tightened.
"It's not worth the risk." Your voice came out a strained wheeze.
Later that night, when Dabi had long since fallen asleep, you pried yourself from his arms and curled up in a blanket on your small balcony. A blunt hung loosely from your lips as you played around with your lighter, the cool evening air aiding your high temperature. Taking a drag, you held your breath for a few seconds before sighing the smoke through your nose, some of the pain washing away in the process. You had a long day ahead of you tomorrow. There was no need for you to be there really...but Shigaraki had requested your presence nonetheless. Perhaps as backup? Or maybe just to make the League seem untouchable. What did that crusty bitch have planned?
Morning came; you and Dabi were on your way to the hide-out, your feet dragging with the exhaustion of shouldering so much pain. Your lover's arm settled firmly around your waist, supporting your weight.
"If we're lucky, this won't take long," Dabi muttered from your side.
When you made it to the bar, Bakugo was secured to a chair in the middle of the room, Shigaraki in front of him and the rest of the league behind. You quickly scanned the blonde and upon finding him injury-free, you breathed a sigh of relief.
"How are you feeling, y/n?" Kurogiri asked softly when he saw you.
"I'm fine. It'll pass."
The student's eyes immediately shifted to you, a look of confusion crossing his features. He frowned and you offered a strained smile (one that you hoped would be reassuring).
Shigaraki went on one of his monologues and you tuned out the entire thing, trying to breathe through the pain still plaguing your body. There was some shouting from the boy's part, followed by more talking.
"If we want him to join us, we need to treat him as an equal," the crusty boy grinned.
Dabi expressed his reluctance, then Twice, and eventually, everyone was refusing to be the one to release the chains. With a groan, you stepped out of Dabi's hold and to Shigaraki's side.
"I'll do it. He's just a kid."
As you moved closer to him, he watched you carefully. He didn't sense any kind of threat when you were near.
"Who are you?" he mumbled.
"No one important," you whispered back.
Your desire to remain anonymous was quickly disregarded by the League's leader.
"Allow me to introduce our team's healer," he smirked, "y/n l/n!"
"Healer? Those quirks are extremely rare..." Bakugo growled.
"Would you like a demonstration? I'm sure she'd be more than happy to put your doubts to rest," a maniacal laugh echoed through the room.
Dabi stepped forward, a hand roughly landing on Shigaraki's shoulder. "You know how much strain she's already under after yesterday," he hissed.
The crusty man side-eyed him, bushing his hand off.
"She'll be fine. Spinner, bring me a knife."
Within seconds, a small knife was in Shigaraki's hands, and he was approaching you and Bakugo. He grabbed the boy's arm, keeping one finger away from the skin, and pulled it towards himself.
"Tomura," your voice was low with warning.
"Shut up and do your job."
The knife was dragged along his limb, deep enough to draw a decent amount of blood, and the blonde hissed in pain, trying to pull his arm out of the bruising hold.
"Hold still, wouldn't wanna nic a vein now would we...go ahead y/n."
With a sigh (you'd been doing that a lot lately), your hand replaced Shigaraki's, much more gently than the former had been. With each inhale, Bakugo found his pain lessening, but he saw the way your brow furrowed and tears gathered in the corners of your eyes.
"It's okay," you murmured, "this pain is my burden now."
"Wh-what!?" his eyes widened and from his peripheral, he saw the fire quirk user look away, his eyes sad.
You backed away once the wound had fully healed, your hands shaking vigorously. You turned to Shigaraki, an icy glare taking over your features.
"Happy?"
He clapped his hands, eyes wide. "Extremely. Great job as always!"
Before anyone else could speak, there was a loud knock on the door. Everyone glanced around awkwardly. Dabi stepped closer to you, reaching and gently pulling you behind him. And in seconds, the door was busted open with heroes flooding in. Your boyfriend pushed you back and you stumbled into the arms of none other than the man you loathed the most. All Might had taken hold of Bakugo, pushing him closer to the door, but his eyes met yours frantically. Once the chaos began, you heard his voice, slightly panicked.
"Wait! The girl! You need to save the girl!"
A shiver ran down your spine when you felt cold, dry hands wrapped around your wrist and throat.
(comment for part 2 hehe)
#myposts#kaidoslastbraincell#Mha#My hero academia#Mha x reader#touya todoroki#todoroki touya#Dabi#Touya x reader#Dabi x reader#Dabi angst#Touya todoroki angst
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rotted
gn! reader x touya todoroki / angst / he can't let himself be loved
he said it. he spilled out those retched words and he couldn’t reach out and shove them back down his throat. but oh how he wishes he could.
you were none the wiser, sleeping soundly as he spilled his guts and his soul onto your wooden floors. this is the only way he knew to bare his soul. covered in soot and rotting from the inside.
he wasn’t even supposed to be here. he was supposed to disappear and take his feelings and bury them in the cemetery down the block. cover it all with dirt and forget about you. forget about the warm touches and the blue flames fading around his heart. he was supposed to leave you broken hearted, full of anguish, never turning back because that’s who he was. but maybe, maybe your hands reached his heart and put some of the wires back into their appropriate places and dusted off the mantle inside.
so what the hell was he doing here in your bedroom doorway looming, re-rotting the serenity of the four walls you called home. the thoughts clanged around in his head: get out of here and don’t come back, crawl under the covers just like you never left.
he swayed on his feet, the movement creaking the floorboards. the groans of the hardwood made him flinch, scared of alerting you of his presence as he stalked your sleeping form, pandering every single word in his head.
he eased his way to your bedside and squatted so he was level with your face, eyes shut and slack jawed letting out soft breaths and the occasional snore. if you had opened your eyes right now, he told himself he’d stay. he wouldn’t leave again, he’d try again and he’d let himself be loved.
fifteen minutes passed though, and your eyes never once opened. you made the decision for him. it was all a sign that this was for the better, for him to leave and stop contaminating your life with his ruin.
he got up and left, ash clinging to your hardwood floors that he couldn’t bring himself to sweep away. the only thing that you noticed when you crossed those same hardwoods the next morning. and you knew, knew the owner of the soot that soiled your floor, knew the burnt smell in the air. and as much as he told himself it would be the last time, you knew you'd continue to wake up to it until he allowed himself to stay.
#touya todoroki#dabi#touya x reader#touya x y/n#bnha touya#todoroki touya#dabi x reader#dabi x you#dabi angst#touya angst#touya todoroki angst
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you'd ever want to leave me (chapter 2)
-> Touya Todoroki (Dabi) x Fem!Reader
Summary: "How can I hit rewind so I could find a single reason why you would leave with no goodbye"
Touya walked into your life with no warning and settled himself in your heart. But how do you expect to build a relationship based on lies and betrayals?
warnings: sexual content (a brief description of a handjob and sex), mentions of bruises, dabi needs serious psychological help
masterlist -> previous chapter -> next chapter
The next day comes by after a horrible night of sleep. You kept waking up for a few seconds before falling asleep again. Because of that, you were unable to have a peaceful night of sleep. You feel tired when you drag yourself out of the warm bed but the clock reads 3pm and you need to start cleaning the house. Like yesterday night, time passes slowly. It's only 5pm by the time you finish cleaning and you immediately go take a shower and put on some nice clothes although you think you might be a bit overdressed to just stay at home. It's by the time you're preparing dinner that you realize that you had no idea at what time Touya would come. Sure he said “tomorrow night” but you had no idea if he was coming before or after dinner. Either way, you prepared enough for him and set the table for two people. You waited and waited for the man to show up but at 9pm you decided to eat because it's obvious he will only show up after dinner. You have time to wash and clean the dishes and watch the rest of a movie playing on the tv. You keep checking the clock on your phone and now time is passing quicker than it did this afternoon. Midnight strikes and Touya is nowhere to be seen. You’re forcing yourself to stay awake but to no avail. You convince yourself that he just had something coming up and since he didn't have your number there was no way he could warn you. Nonetheless, you feel your heart aching and a tear escaping as you accept that he is not coming over as you walk to your bedroom, dragging your feet on the ground. You sniff and hold your tears as you clean your face and change clothes then lay on the cold bed.
Sleep comes faster than you would have thought but it doesn't last long, a repeated knock on the door waking you up. You stumble out of bed, ready to argue with whoever decided to annoy you at 2am. You open the door, brows furrowed and a scowl on your face that immediately drops when you see Touya in front of you. His hair is a mess and he is a bit out of breath, like he had just ran to your house. “You're here.” you murmur. “I told you I would come.” he replied. You watch as he walks inside after taking off his shoes. He moves to your couch like he is already so used to it. It warms your heart seeing Touya be so comfortable in your house. It’s only then that you feel a little self conscious about your pajamas and overall messy look. You try to think of excuses so you can run to your room and come out looking like you did a few hours ago but Touya pats on the spot next to him and you realize there's no running from it. You sit next to him, keeping your distance as much as you can on the small couch. As much as he looks comfortable, you still feel nervous around him. Your heart beats faster every time you try to look at him just to find the intense blue eyes staring back at you. There's awkwardness in the air, at least you think so, as you stare at your fingers. Now that he is here, you have no idea what to say or do.
“Tell me about you.” he says, without raising his voice.
“There's not much to be said.” you whisper back.
“I still want to know.”
Your heart jumps and twirls and you feel like a highschool girl talking to their crush. You tell Touya about you. His blue eyes keep staring at you, taking in every word you say. You notice you're rambling but his hums of acknowledgment make you keep going. You think you might be oversharing too much, the guy was still a stranger but you felt comfortable enough to go on and on about yourself. Touya doesn't seem to mind as his eyes never leave you.
He doesn't tell you about himself, not even when you stop talking for a bit to hear his side. You don't push Touya to talk though, understanding that maybe it's too soon and he's not an over-sharer like yourself. There's a weird feeling that settles in your chest as well as a bunch of questions plaguing your mind. You try to convince yourself that he simply doesn't like talking about himself, even though it is weird that he didn't say anything about his life other than his quirk.
“So, no quirk.” he says after a brief pause.
“No quirk.” you confirm, shaking your head. “And I don't pay much attention to those with quirks either. My parents always kept me away from anything related to it.” you fall back on the couch, resting your head on the backrest. “Said they wanted me to live a normal life. I know of All Might but that's about it.” with this, you turn your head to look at him. “And now the blue flames hero, Touya.” You smile. Touya doesn't smile back and there's something in his eyes that you can't explain. But, once again, you push those thoughts away.
Touya gets closer and your heart starts beating faster. You look into his eyes but can't comprehend what he is thinking of. While Touya looks at you like he can see all of you, you can't seem to decipher what hides behind his eyes. Right now though, understanding what the man is thinking is at the bottom of the list. He keeps getting closer and your eyes move from his to his mouth. You want to kiss him but you are not sure if you're reading the situation correctly. So you stand by patiently, eyes half closed as you wait for the kiss.
However, the kiss never comes. Instead, Touya backs away and ignores the disappointed expression on your face.
“Kissing you would defeat the purpose of keeping you away from anything quirk related.” he says, looking at the ceiling.
“I guess.” you murmur. “Though it was already defeated the moment you walked through the door, don't you think?”
Touya laughs, turning his face to look at you. In a spontaneous decision, you lean closer to him. It doesn't feel like a movie; instead, it happens too fast. One moment you're the one getting closer and in the other Touya’s hand is on the back of your neck to pull you for a kiss. It's soft and slow, the complete opposite of what you thought kissing Touya would be like. Your hands are gripping the front of his shirt, scared that it is all a dream and he will disappear right in front of you. His hands are pulling you closer and closer until your front is touching him. You sigh into the kiss as Touya pulls away. You take a deep breath before you're throwing yourself onto him, kissing him faster this time. It's a bit messy but you still wrap your arms around him and start moving to sit on his lap.
He stops you though, his breaths are fast and his lips are shining. You want to kiss him again but he keeps you away. A pout makes its way to your lips and Touya chuckles before kissing it away. His lips don't stay on yours long enough for you to deepen the kiss but his continuous pecks are enough to pull a silly smile out of you.
But when Touya says “I have to go soon.”, your smile falls instantly. It's too soon, you still haven't spent enough time with him. What if you don't see him again? “I can try and come back tomorrow.” he says, as if he could see the storm forming in your head.
Touya pulls you in for another kiss and you relax. “Touya.” you whisper between kisses. “Don't go.” you plead.
“I have to.” he replies. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”
You nod, understanding that you won't get more than that. Touya gets up and grabs your hand to pull you with him. You guide him to your room, heart beating fast at the possibility of something happening but you have a feeling that he won't do anything with you. At least for now.
Touya lays on the bed first, sighing content at the feeling of the soft mattress. You lay next to him, a bit awkward, not knowing if you should get closer. Your questions are answered when Touya pulls you to his chest, making you wrap your arm around his torso. He is warm as the day you met him; you suspect it is due to his quirk. The man doesn't talk and you don't either. The silence is comfortable and, as the minutes pass by, you feel your eyes getting heavier.
You don't know when you fall asleep or how long Touya stays; when you wake up, he is already gone.
Dabi left around six in the morning. It was still dark outside and his jacket did little to stop the cold. The path to the league's place was foggy and Dabi hates it. He walks being extra cautious, a bit scared that someone will use the weather to attack him. He keeps looking over his shoulder, squinting his eyes at the shadow in the distance and trying to understand if it's merely an object or someone. He walks faster, the flames of his quirk bubbling just below his skin as he gets ready for a possible attack. The attack doesn't come but he keeps his guard up the rest of the path.
His mind goes back to the night he spent with you. He curses himself for even getting that close to you - what was he thinking? Dabi only has one goal in mind and having a silly relationship isn't part of it. As much as he hates to admit it, the villain doesn't want you ending up dead because of him. You were innocent, didn't even know about him or what he did. You deserve to continue living a normal life.
When he walks through the bar’s door, Kurogiri is standing there speaking to Shigaraki. They ask about his whereabouts but Dabi simply ignores them and makes his way to his room. He falls on his bed and the first thought on his mind is that his mattress is definitely not as comfortable as yours. He groans and buries his face on the pillow, mind filled with thoughts of you. Dabi thinks of the kisses shared between the two of you, the way you held onto him and chased his lips for more. It is driving him insane. Even if he tries to stop those thoughts, Dabi wonders what it would feel to fuck you. He has an idea - he would make you moan loudly for him, make you say his name (his real name) over and over again; he would mark your body with bites and hickeys (if he's lucky, his handprints will stay on your body). Dabi ponders if you ever had sex or if he would be the first. Asks himself if you could take him down your throat. The villain wants nothing more than to see you on your knees in front of him.
Dabi feels ashamed when he raises his hips a little and shoves his hand down his pants, grabbing his already hard dick. He moans against the pillow, imagining your hand instead of his and he almost begs you for forgiveness as his mind starts undressing you. He comes quick,
too quick, and he feels like he is burning with embarrassment. The man gets up, takes a shower and gets back in bed.
Dabi dreams of you and the next time you will meet.
Despite the loud alarms in his head, Dabi can't stop himself from visiting you.
For the next four months, he has been sneaking off to see you. Sometimes he shows up at your house, sometimes he ambushes you on the street but he always meets you away from the public eye. You think it's because Touya is a hero and the villain never denies it. He doesn't deny it because he gets to fuck you every time you see each other.
It wasn't straight away though. You would have small makeout sessions with Touya that eventually led to you slowly falling to your knees while he was sitting on your bed. All of his dreams came true the moment you pulled his dick out of his pants and sucked the soul out of him. He got to see your naked body a few encounters after and he used that mental image of you to get himself off whenever he can’t see you.
Dabi is just glad you don't ask too many questions. Not when he disappears for days and not when he goes to your house bruised up. You open the door, give him a kiss and then guide him to the bathroom either to shower or take care of his wounds. It's comforting, the kind of love Dabi always imagines when he is close to dying. He desires to have you by his side when his end is near. He wants your soft hand holding his when his eyes start closing and his heart eventually stops beating.
“You have to be more careful.” You would whisper in the safety of your bedroom. Dabi doesn't know when was the last time he had someone care this deeply for him. He wishes he had met you in another life. One where he wasn't this fucked up and could actually give you the relationship you deserve. But Dabi is selfish. He is selfish because even though he knows he is the worst version of himself and that you deserve better, he refuses to let you go.
And the league asks questions but he doesn't bother answering. They want to know where he sneaks off to at the end of a mission and why he looks so… light. The villain now walks around like he doesn't carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. His eyes show how eager he is for the meeting to be over so he can run off to wherever. Dabi felt happy. He knows he can't afford happiness right now; knows he is the last person that deserves something as pure as the happiness you fill him with. But, for the first time in a long time, the man feels like Touya Todoroki might still be alive.
#kora posts!#dabi x reader#dabi angst#my hero academia x reader#my hero academia angst#dabi#touya todoroki angst#dabi x you#dabi x y/n#touya todoroki x reader#touya todoroki x you#touya todoroki x y/n#mha#mha dabi#mha touya#my hero academia dabi#my hero academia touya
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Dabi x AllMight’s Quirkless Daughter Reader - Caught
Pure. Fuckin. Angst.
Was listening to Rewrite the Stars from the Greatest Showman while writing this so expect the vibes to be heavy 🙈
Fuck. Fuck.
How could the plan go so terribly? You’d gotten the League all the information they needed. You’d preformed perfectly- as had they. But here they were. Trapped in holding cells, under consistent surveillance.
Somehow, in all the chaos, no one was any the wiser about you being apart of the League. After all, you were All Might’s perfect, feeble, quirkless daughter.
Not like you’d be capable of that anyway.
So here you were, tasked with bringing your former friends their dinner. The surveillance was heavy, so you had to be careful not to let anything slip.
The rooms were quirk-proof, a precaution to keep you safe. What a joke. They were worried the League members would try to attack you. Ridiculous.
After making your rounds, Dabi was all that was left.
You’d been in a tough situationship with him for a little over a month now. Stolen kisses and drunken escapades- it was fun. But that’s all it was. All it could ever be. Feelings…needed to stay out of it.
You scan your ID, and the door to the cell opens.
“Dabi.”
His head turned lazily around at the sound of your voice. He was frail, probably due to the slop you’d been forced to feed him daily. That tacked on with the fact he only got two a day, as well as him not getting much physical activity, made his stature almost ironically fitting.
He was on the floor, legs bent doing sit-ups. His shirt was on the other side of the room.
The cameras were in all four corners, as to avoid having any blind spots.
“Well hey there, Doll Face.”
You sighed, setting his food on the table and turning to leave, albeit reluctantly.
Suddenly he was behind you, hand gently rested on your wrist.
“Wait.”
You knew what time it was. The surveilling guard was kn his dinner break right now, and you had maybe five minutes. Maximum.
“Y/N. Please.”
Dabi knew what time it was too.
“Dabi…we can’t.”
You knew exactly what he wanted. A conversation. You couldn’t look back at him, not when you know he had that look in his eyes. Not when he’d been trying to have this conversation for weeks now, and you’d avoided it before they all ended up caught.
“Please…”
He sounded so broken though. So…done.
Gently, he pulled you to him, hugging you from behind. You closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling. In another life, maybe another world, he’s be hugging you like this from behind after he came home from work. You’d be cooking dinner, the house would smell of marinated chicken and potatoes.
Just one last time, you decided. This was the last time.
“Y/N. Listen to me. You need to stop running. From your father, from this, from us. From me.”
Your eyes fluttered open, bringing you back to reality.
“That’s not possible, Touya.”
He sighed, turning you around and lacing your fingers in his. He brought his other hand to cup your face.
“All I want to do, Y/N. All I want to do is kiss you. We could do it, you know? Get out. Get things back to how they used to be. You and me. Screw the others. Screw out fathers- screw society. Y/N, we could leave. Please, fuck,” he looked into your eyes when you almost pulled away, “stay with me.”
You sighed. No time like the present, right? “Touya… I’m not yours.” Your voice broke heavily. “I don’t deserve you- you don’t deserve to be trapped with someone like me. I’m going to get you all out of here…but I won’t be coming with you, Touya. Eventually you’ll see- I’m not the one for you.”
His eyes watered, as did yours. He wasn’t physically incapable of crying, but you were. You had to wrap this up, before it got any more difficult.
“Touya…Dabi. I can’t come with you.”
His eyes searched yours. “Y/N, since you walked through the door of that bar I have loved you. I love you. Please, fuck, don’t do this.”
“Touya, everything is keeping us apart. Our lineage, society, hell even what we want out of life. It’s impossible, Touya.”
“It’s not.”
He squeezed your hand harder, and you looked back up to him. “Y/N, it’s possible. You and me, baby,” his voice cracked, “we can do this-”
“No, we can’t. Do you know why I joined the League, Touya? I wanted to be free. I was sick of society walking all over me and others for things we couldn’t control. There are things we can’t do, Touya, and tearing down all of society? That’s one of them. I’ll get you all out of here. But after that…”
“Y/N-”
“After that you’ll realize, Touya. I’m not the one meant for you.”
“Y/N, all i want is you.”
“And all i want is you. But, Touya,” a sob slipped through, “I can’t have you.”
He pulled you close, kissing you, This was different. Tears mixed with blood and feelings clashed. For him, this kiss was hope. For you, it was goodbye.
You pulled away. “Touya. I can’t have you.”
He looked at you, eyes searching yours once more. “Baby…Y/N, please.”
“Goodbye, Touya.”
Your hand slipped from his, and you made sure to shut the door behind you. You broke down onto the floor, back against the door. Sobs wracked your whole body.
A week later, the footage was leaked to the public. The night you were meant to break the League out. Those left in this fucked society decided, you were to be executed.
Your last thought, as you faced the blood stained wall, was that if you’d only been faster. If you’d only seen through what the heroes were planning that day. You could have stopped this.
The footage was broadcasted around the nation, All Might’s child’s execution. It was ironic, in a way. A real fuck you to society.
As the executioner cocked his gun, you thought to yourself. Maybe this was written in the stars. Maybe, if you’d tried harder. If you’d been better. You and Touya could be back with all the League in a safe house right now. If you fought, now, you could have him. You could try to fight the guard, try to get to him.
You could have him.
All Might’s daughter and Endeavors son. What a ridiculous notion.
Just before the bullet hit, your last thought hit you and your vision blurred, tears finally falling.
Not like you’d be capable of that anyway.
#mha angst#light angst#mha dabi#touya todoroki#dabi#league of villains#my hero academia#my hero academia x reader#dabi x reader#touya todoroki x reader#touya todoroki angst#dabi angst
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Hiiiii L!!! Congrats on ur milestone bby!! It was so hard to choose a prompt I was stuck on so many of them but I’d love to see ur take on the prompt “weird, but fucking beautiful” with Touya<333
WEIRD, BUT FUCKING BEAUTIFUL (t. todoroki)
a/n: bad communicator dabi, reader has a birthmark, descriptions of skin and scarring (???) angsty undertones but ultimately very soft (like dabi), i love u oz
L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!
There's a lot that Dabi can't say.
He thinks his lack of verbal charisma was wired into his brain and decided by the stars above from the very moment he was born into this world.
It's not for a lack of feeling, he likes to justify. In his head, Dabi has said what he would deem to be Shakespearean things about how much he loves you—but when it comes time to turn those thoughts into syllables from his lips, they never sound nearly as nice.
Something Dabi is good at, he likes to think, is admiring you. It comes natrually, he doesnt need to think about it.
He loves learning about your body, finding out new things about your skin and shape and self. Enjoys learning how you like to be touched, how you like to be loved without the words he can't really say. He thinks that must be how people in love feel, a bit foolish but willing to sit in silence just to catch a glimpse of something worth while.
Having crawled out of bed and whined about your soreness from last night, you search the room for your discarded jeans. And Dabi does what he does best and watches you.
He appreciates how your skin stretches and bounces when you bend down to grab your pants. How it pudges by your hips and tummy when you shimmy into your jeans and fasten your zipper. He likes how your arms flex and arch as you button your bra around your torso—and he loves how your tiny little birthmark on your back contorts with the normalcy of it all.
It's moments like these, horribly mundane and, for a lack of a better word, boring, that make Dabi realize just how lost in you he actually is. The way you exist, ridiculously regular and undeniably human, makes him want to cry, sometimes. He doesn't think you realize how special that is, to be normal.
Your irritated tone interrupts (what you don't know to be) his sweet introspection.
"Would you stop that?"
You see the smallest twinge of a smile from the corner of his mouth when he plays along.
"Stop what?"
"Looking at me like that," he watches you shrink beneath his heavy gaze.
"Like what?"
You raise your eyebrows at him, in a look that reads nothing but annoyed, and he allows himself to huff out a sound of amusement at how easily aggravated you get sometimes.
"Oh come on, don't be pissy," he teases, but you choose to ignore his taunt and continue getting dressed.
He continues to watch you twist into your shirt, and he's grateful it's sleeveless as it leaves the pretty little imprint beneath your shoulder within his sight. He watches you catch his eye a few times, sees how you grow more irritated with each and every flicker of his stare on your skin.
When you (not so) gently scoot past him to collect your phone from the nightstand, he's quick to wrap his fingers around your wrist and guide you closer to him.
With a scowl on your face, you let him. His hand finds your chin, turning you upward to look at him, pout and all.
"Hey," he whispers with a bit of an edge, one he doesn't mean to have but has accepted as a part of him. When you flicker your eyes over him, he softens his bite a bit, "Talk."
After a sigh or two, your response comes shy, flushed.
"I don't like when you stare at me like that," you whisper against his palm and he can feel the heat of your cheeks flooding with embarrassment.
"Feels like you're making fun of me or something."
"Making fun of you?" his face frowns in genuine confusion. "The fuck are you talking about?"
Not sure if he's fucking with you or not, you take a beat to read his expression. He's serious, for once—you can tell there's no ill will in his furrowed brows and slightly concerned eyes.
Eventually, you deflate and state the obvious, "You're looking at my birthmark."
…Yeah?
"And?" he decides to say instead.
"And I hate it," your voice becomes a bit more strained, "so stop looking at it."
Genuinely confused at the sudden tension between you two, Dabi shrugs and loosens his grip on your jaw, leaving his hand gently ghosting your skin instead of holding you in place.
He sounds a bit critical when he scoffs, "What's there to hate? It's a birthmark."
"It's gross and weirdly shaped and ugly."
And he can't but wince at the pure irony of your words. Because you're always the first person to kiss his scars, trace their growing and scaling patches, and remind him that they're beautiful because they're his.
And here you are, loathing something as measly as a barely noticeable birthmark for the sole reason that it's yours.
He wants to tell you what you tell him, that it's beautiful because it's yours. That he wants to trace it with his tongue and see its outline when he closes his eyes.
But Dabi isn't that poetic, so he settles for shrugging and using his free hand to reach out and touch it.
As his calloused thumb skims the mark, he hums to himself in thought.
"Was thinking about how it's kinda shaped like a mushroom."
He smiles a bit when your eyes roll at his statement. Your skin heats up again when you weakly remind him that, "It's weird."
"Yeah," he merely agrees with a soft nod, "but it doesn't make me want you any less."
Gently, he takes the pad of his thumb and lovingly swipes it across your bottom lip, caressing the skin and attempting to let his touch say what his words can't.
And you know, he knows you know. Because even though Dabi isn't great with words and can't say what he means, what he feels, that doesn't mean he doesn't feel it. He feels it more deeply than anyone you've ever known.
In the softness of the moment, you cock your head to the side and gently bite down on the length of this thumb. It's unexpected but doesn't hurt, and Dabi knows you well enough to know what it says. Thank you. I love you.
He nearly blushes at the intimacy, mumbling out a sarcastic, "Fuckin' ow."
"Don't be a baby," you choose to gently kiss the spot you sunk your teeth into, "that didn't hurt."
It didn't, he thinks. I liked it.
Again, his tongue betrays him, "You're so weird."
Allowing yourself to lean into his touch, your voice taunts him a bit. "But that doesn't make you want me any less, does it?"
Dabi chooses the easy way out and simply kisses you, and through this tongue gently prodding at your bottom lip, you know his answer.
No, it doesn't.
#L's MIDNIGHTS EVENT!#dabi x reader#touya todoroki x reader#dabi x you#touya todoroki x you#dabi fic#touya todoroki fic#dabi angst#dabi fluff#touya todoroki angst#touya todoroki fluff
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Author’s note: was in a silly goofy ah mood so here’s some angst
Word count : 548
Genre: Angst
TW: Domestic abuse.
Touya does not believe in love. He has never felt loved, genuinely loved, ever in his life. What he thought, as a little boy, to be fatherly love, later on turned out to be something so sinister, so malicious, that it left his childish, little heart absolutely shattered.
His father, Enji Todoroki, gave his first born everything he could possibly ask for, until the moment he realised Touya could not fulfil his dreams. This sudden switch in behaviour left little Touya perplexed. He could not understand what he did so wrong that his father would not even give him the time of the day. He tried his absolute best to try and get recognition from Enji, but to no avail.
It didn’t take him too long to finally decipher what Enji Todoroki needed from his children. And the realisation left Touya with a sour taste in his mouth. He was a failure. That is exactly why his father didn’t care about him, that is why no matter how hard he tried to improve himself and substantiate that he was worthy of his fathers attention and love, he still got ignored.
He was left to be by himself. All alone. His mother was no better than his father. She had also failed him. She had also failed to love him. And so, Touya put two and two together, either love did not exist at all or he was so incredibly hideous that no one could ever love him for who he was.
Touya hated liars, he despised them. He grew up living on the streets, eating food from the dumpsters, watching how his father played hero in front of the public. Liar, he thought to himself every time he watched Endeavour on TV, remembering all the horrible things he did to his family. He wanted nothing to do with people who didn’t have it in them to say the truth and be sincere.
And that is why Touya had been screaming at you for the past 30 minutes, calling you names along the lines of a “Lying whore” and a “Cheap bitch”. All that because you told him just how much you loved him. The moment those words left your mouth Touya’s eye went wide and they instantly were filled up by indisputable rage. You knew you were in trouble when he started shaking a bit and the tips of his ears started showing slight tints of pink shade.
You were just like them all. You were a liar too, because no one, not a single soul could love Todoroki Touya. He was a fool for thinking otherwise. He wanted to be in your life, and wanted you to be in his. He was rather fond of you. But you were just like them all. After what felt like infinity, Touya gathered enough strength to step out of your front door and leave you behind. Just another page in his life that we wished he could burn to ashes.
With a loud smash of the door Touya left you, on your knees crying out and begging him to stay, that you truly loved him, that you were not lying. He left you with a shattered heart but he had no regrets.
After all, Touya Todoroki hates liars.
#Touya todoroki#touya todoroki headcanons#touya todoroki x reader#touya todoroki scenario#touya todoroki drabble#touya angst#touya x reader#touya todoroki angst#dabi#dabi x reader#dabi imagines#dabi angst#dabi headcanons#mha dabi#dabi drabble#dabi x y/n#mha drabble#mha x reader#my hero acedamia#my hero academy fanfiction#bnha#boku no hero academia#toya x reader#toya todoroki
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"I need you here with me..."
Dabi x GN! Reader
Summary: Dabi is depressed after witnessing the death of his significant other.
Warnings: ANGST LOTS OF ANGST, swearing, character death (reader dies), reader sometimes refers to Dabi as Touya, let me know if I missed anything!
Author's Note: I was feelin a lil angsty! Also the “~~~” lines are flashbacks if you couldn't guess.
Dabi walked into his small, old, abandoned apartment. His breathing was heavy as he slid his coat off and threw it on the floor, then he pressed his back against the door and slid down, on the ground with his back resting on the wood.
He had so many emotions flowing through him; Anxiety. Anger. Sadness..
He choked out a sob but no tears came. The scars under his eyes started to drip blood though. He let out another shaky breath as he went up to wipe the blood away onto his white tank top, the tank top that was already scorched with burn marks and dust.
The memories came washing back to him as he remembered the scenario that had just happened not even an hour ago.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You had decided to take a little stroll downtown, not expecting anything major to happen. You were excited for tonight because you were supposed to meet up with your boyfriend for a movie night!
You were walking down the street when a loud crash was heard behind you, rubble flying everywhere as screams of citizens erupted. You flung around to see the LOV and some pro hero's having a big battle. You recognized Toga and Mt. Lady fighting while Spinner and Shigaraki ganged up on Best Jeanist. You scanned around the now clearing smoke until your eyes landed on him, your boyfriend: Touya, or Dabi, as he liked his “friends” to call him, could be seen fighting with Eraser Head.
Your eyes widened as you could see Touya being flung into the air as he crashed into a window, glass shattering around him. You gasped and without thinking, rushed over to him.
“To-- D-Dabi! Are you okay?” You asked in a panicked voice as you maneuvered yourself around the glass.
He grunted and looked up at you. “Y/n, what the fck are you doing?! Get away before the hero’s see you with me,or even worse get hurt!” He hissed at you as he stood up, holding his side as he tried to nudge you away.
“B-but you're hurt!” You say, trying to move closer to him.
Dabi grunted again and glanced over to you. “Seriously, get away,” He said in a serious tone as he used his flames to propel himself up into the air back to where Aizawa was. You huffed out, looking around desperately to see a way to help him.
But you stood in that spot for 3 seconds too long.
A huge piece of rubble was flying towards you, and before you could react you got hit by it, getting pushed into the building. The impact of the rubble itself wasn't enough to hurt you to the point beyond repair, but enough to crush your leg and not allow you to move.
You cry out in pain as you feel the bone in your leg break, attempting to shove it off your leg but to no success. Only a minute had passed before you felt the ground start to shake, a loud rumbling sound could be heard from above. You look up at the ceiling, only to see it shaking and starting to crack. You cry out again in panic, trying to shove the rubble off again.
You managed to push it off and you grunted, standing on your wobbly legs as you tried to run out of the building. You heard Dabi scream out. “Y/N!!!!” You could see the fear in his eyes as he tried to propel himself towards you, but it was too late.
You hadn't reached the exit in time, nor did Dabi reach you in time. Before the whole building collapsed on you, you managed to cry out, “T-Touya..” before you got crushed by everything.
Dabi cried out, coughing as his heart was hammering in his chest and rubble surrounded the area temporarily. Once the dust and smoke had cleared, he could only see a large pile of cement and other building components.
“No no no no no no god please no.” He cried out before rushing over, moving all the rubble to try to find you.
“God dammit you can’t do this to me! P-please..” He yelled, and after what seemed like forever of digging, he gave up. He collapsed to his knees, taking shaky breaths in and out, as he looked at his scar and grime covered hands.
Dabi could hear sirens getting near and more yelling, so he shakily stood up, then just started to scream bloody mary. He didn't think that he was saying anything in particular, but other people could tell he was: “THEY DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG! WHY THEM? WHY NOT ME?! AREN'T I THE ONE YOU WANT?! WHY DID THEY HAVE TO GET BROUGHT INTO THIS DAMMIT!” He screamed, before blue flames erupted from him, and he propelled himself through the air again off into the distance, no trace left of him besides the blue flames.
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It had all happened so fast too. He's hoping you didn't feel that much pain while it happened…
Dabi took another shaky breath as he stood up, walking over to his bedside table and opening the drawer, and wiped the soot on his pants before picking up the selfie you took of yourself while he had photo-bombed the background. He let out another dry, choked sob as he sat on the bed, laying down on his side while he held the picture close to his chest.
“I-I need you here with me… Y/n…”
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First time writing angst! I wrote all of this in like under an hour cuz my brain was surging with ideas. If you have any suggestions or requests pls let me know! <3
#dabi#dabi x reader#dabi x y/n#dabi x you#touya todoroki#touya todoroki x reader#touya todoroki x you#dabi angst#angst#my hero academia#dabi mha#touya todoroki angst
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M A S T E R L I S T
M H A F A N F I C S
Something to Live For [Dabi x F!Reader]
Angst & fluff occurring after ch. 390 of the manga
Lie to Me [Dabi x F!Reader] Pt. I
Pregnancy angst
Lie to Me [Dabi x F!Reader] Pt. II
Pregnancy angst, smut, & fluff
To Keep You Warm [Dabi x F!Reader]
Showering with Dabi smut
An Egg in the Nest [Hawks x F!Reader]
Pregnancy angst
Shark Week [Hawks x F!Reader] Pt. I
Hawks comforts you while you’re on your period smut
Shark Week [Hawks x F!Reader] Pt. II
Hawks helps get rid of your cramps smut
Not the Wings [Hawks x F!Reader]
Impact play and pegging Hawks smut
Living the Dream [Hawks x Dabi x F!Reader]
You stumble into the MHA universe
Early Bird [Hawks x Dabi x F!Reader]
Hero & villain threesome smut
The Sky Is Falling [Hawks x Dabi x F!Reader]
You, Hawks, & Dabi experiment with edibles smut
Keep Your Enemies Closer [Dabi x Hawks]
DabiHawks angst & smut
M H A D R A B B L E S
I’d go to hell for you [Dabi x Reader]
Toxic relationship angst
Let me help you [Dabi x F!Reader]
Injured Dabi angst
M H A H E A D C A N O N S
Hawks
SFW & NSFW
Dabi
SFW & NSFW
I do not give permission for any of my writing to be reposted, recorded, continued, or altered in any way. All characters © to their respective creators unless stated otherwise.
Banner: @cafekitsune
#last updated 6/18/23#mha masterlist#masterlist#dabi fanfiction#dabi fanfic#hawks fanfiction#hawks fanfic#dabihawks#dabihawks fanfic#dabi x reader#dabi x you#dabi x y/n#hawks x reader#hawks x y/n#hawks x you#dabi x hawks x reader#hawks x dabi x reader#dabi#hawks#touya todoroki angst#touya todoroki x reader#keigo takami x reader#keigo takami#takami keigo#hawks angst#hawks fluff#dabi fluff#dabi angst#dabi smut#hawks smut
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