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hopelesshawks · 2 years

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Ash and Dust Part 22- Family Reunion

18+ Dabi x fem!reader (MINORS DNI)

Summary: You first meet Dabi on the worst night of your life after unwittingly walking into the very bar the League of Villains made infamous. That should probably be the end of the story. You stumble on the remnants of one of the most infamous terrorist groups in the history of Japan, get viciously murdered or call the cops and get them arrested, the end. Except that’s not the end of the story. It’s only the beginning.

Link to change y/n to your actual name (not mobile compatible)

Masterlist Kofi (Help Lulu)

Touya watches you carefully as you sleep, his now completely white hair still dripping from the shower he’d dragged you into to try and wash the grime from the past few days off. You look small laying alone in the king size bed and he hates how fragile everything feels.

How fragile you look…

The few times you’d been conscious you hadn’t said anything to him.

Not because you couldn’t say anything to him, but because you didn’t want to. He could see it in your eyes: the hurt, the betrayal. You know he’s the one who sold you out, of course you do. He’s sure Toga taunted you with that fact every single day she had you in her claws. He would do the same if the situations were reversed. It doesn’t make it any better though and it doesn’t make him any more confident that he’ll be able to repair whatever it is the two of you used to have before he ran away and abandoned you.

The sound of an approaching car engine and tires crunching on gravel snaps him out of his thoughts. He heads downstairs with his hands shoved in his pockets, already dreading the interaction that’s about to happen. By the time he reaches the foyer Natsuo and Shouto have already stepped inside. The older of the two catches sight of Touya first, beelining for the eldest Todoroki sibling almost immediately. Natsuo takes him in, eyes trailing over each of the staples visible outside of the simple black shirt and jeans Dabi’s wearing before drifting up to the unruly white hair on Touya’s head.

“Touya.”

“Natsuo.”

Dabi’s not sure what he expected but it wasn’t for Natsuo to slug him straight across the face.

“That’s for sending a villain out to try and kill me,” Natsuo growls, although Dabi doesn’t even flinch after the impact.

“And this,” Natsuo starts, winding back before slugging Touya across the face once more, “is for whatever the fuck you did to (y/n).”

“Natsu–” Shouto warns, voice even and appeasing.

“He deserves it,” Natsuo fires back.

“You’re not wrong but there’s more important things to deal with right now,” Shouto points out.

“She’s upstairs in the old man’s room,” Touya explains, voice kept carefully neutral as his gaze stays affixed to the exact same point it landed on after getting punched.

Natsuo nods before heading in the direction with one last glance at Touya. Meanwhile, to Touya’s surprise, Shouto rests a gentle hand on his shoulder. When their eyes meet Shouto’s are soft, understanding and it throws Touya for a much bigger loop than he’ll ever admit. Shouto squeezes, not too hard, just enough to be reassuring.

“She’ll forgive you eventually,” he says, voice strong and assured.

“I’m not so sure about that,” Touya scoffs back.

“I am. She’ll forgive you, so long as you deserve it and really have changed.”

“I’m not capable of changing.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

The silence is heavy. He’s not sure he deserves to be considered a changed man. Not when his mistakes are the reason you’re beaten and broken upstairs.

“I don’t do redemption,” Touya finally confesses.

“That’s the thing about redemption… You don’t actually get a say in whether your actions have redeemed you or not. It’s the people around you that do,” Shouto refutes.

“Just because you think I’ve redeemed myself doesn’t mean she will.”

“I don’t think you’ve redeemed yourself.”

“Then what the fuck are you rambling about?”

“This is the first time I’ve thought you capable of it at all. And it’s all thanks to her. So maybe don’t give up on yourself quite yet.”

The words settle in his chest and wrap around his heart, squeezing it uncomfortably tight.

“I don’t need your reassurance,” Dabi bites out but it makes Shouto chuckle.

“Yes you do. It’s what brothers are for. Now go up and talk to your girlfriend,” Shouto smirks, clapping his older brother on the back once more before leaving the room.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Touya grumbles under his breath, cheeks slightly red as he moves to go to you anyway.

It’s odd, such a normal sibling interaction working its way into his life during what is an otherwise very abnormal situation. He never wanted siblings, certainly never wanted his youngest brother, yet if he’s being honest with himself part of him is glad to have his brothers here with him now. It’s strange having some semblance of a support system and even stranger that he’s genuinely considering using it. The thought makes him a little nauseous in all honesty.

He finds himself outside your room, his feet having carried him there so effortlessly with so little conscious thought on his part. He doesn’t enter immediately though, instead choosing to lean just out of sight in the doorway. You’re quiet, but he can still hear you talking to Natsuo and in spite of himself, he feels something in his chest ease and unwind at the sound of your voice. He closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the door frame, just listening to you speak. A small part of him thinks he could sob with relief but he shoves it down deep, ignoring the lump in his throat as he hears you explain to Natsuo everything Toga did to you while you were stuck with her.

Guilt and rage burn inside him in equal measure and before he knows it his feet are carrying him back downstairs so he can hunt that psychotic bitch down and make her pay for what she did to you. He’s almost to the front door when Natsuo catches him, grasping onto his shoulder and spinning him around.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going,” Natsuo demands.

“To find Toga where the fuck else,” Dabi spits, eyes burning.

“Of fucking course you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That you’re running away! Again! Seeking petty revenge instead of handling your shit, just like you did when we were kids!”

“Fuck you! I’m not running from anything.”

“Then stay. (Y/n) needs you here, not chasing after Toga!”

“What’s going on here?” Shouto interrupts, drawn back to the foyer by the shouting.

“Natsuo’s a naive cunt who should mind his own business.”

“Touya’s a little bitch scared of his own feelings.”

“You little-”

“Just let him go.”

Your voice isn’t very loud but it still manages to cut through the argument like a knife through butter. You look exhausted, understandably so, and have to lean on the stairway railing for support. The sweats you’re wearing hang low on your hips, the loose short sleeve shirt they’re paired with revealing the bandages that evidence both your pain and the care Natsuo had put into soothing it.

“He got his stolen property back, now he needs to punish the thief. It’s that simple,” you sigh.

“That’s not-“

“It’s fine Dabi. Just go.”

With that final note you turn and trudge back to your room shutting the door behind you with a click.

“Well?” Shouto prompts.

“Well what?” Touya snaps, irritation clear in his voice.

“Are you gonna go talk to her or what?” Shouto asks.

Touya is quiet for a moment, his stubbornness not wanting to concede and chase you upstairs when you so clearly want nothing to do with him. And yet a much larger part of him knows how wrong you are and is desperate to correct you.

“Obviously I’m going to go talk to her,” he finally huffs, shoving his hands into his pockets in a self-conscious gesture.

“You owe her one hell of an apology,” Natsuo gruffly points out.

“I know that, idiot. I’m working on it,” Touya growls as he finally starts walking to the stairs again. He makes it about halfway up before he’s interrupted.

“Hey asshole!” Natsuo calls up, causing Touya to look back as he rolls his eyes.

“What?”

“Good luck!”

Natsuo’s grin is large and shit eating in contrast to Shouto’s more reserved one but both men give their older brother a thumb’s up in encouragement. Touya rolls his eyes, grumbling under his breath about them being idiots, but what he’ll never admit is that a warmth settles in his chest and for once it doesn’t feel violent.

A/N: Only two more posts after this one! It's been a wild ride and I can't believe it's coming to a close now

Taglist: @thechroniclesofawriter @simpsfortodoroki @ahtsuwu @002opdestiny @larkspyrr @oikawaandkuroostan @tina-98 @vibesdontlie @clubfairy @oddball215 @myfavoriteficsandsuch @h0wab0utw3d0ntd0that @alyssa6marie @bleuchichiriq

#hopelessad #dabi x y/n #dabi x fem!reader #dabi x reader #touya x fem!reader #touya x y/n #touya x reader #todoroki touya

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superfluous-girl · 7 years

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Get to know me

I was tagged by@generation-null

Rules: Tag 20 followers you’d like to get to know better

Name:Lena Nickname: - Gender: female Star sign: Virgo Height: 1,65 m Sexual orientation: bi Hogwarts house: Slytherin Favorite color: black an dark green Favorite animal: owls, rats and unicorns Average hours of sleep: 5-6 hours Cats or dogs: both Favorite fictional character: fhhencmbpeghwfxpeföv..... too many Favorite singer/band: at the moment Halsey, Melanie Martinez and Antilopengang Dream trip: the world Dream job: something with books. When was this blog made: 09 Oct. 2013 Follower count: 292 What made you make this blog: my best friend told me that this website was kinda fun and now I’m here forever.... A few followers (I don’t think I can get 20 together) @du-warst-mein-neuanfang @obsoletebrothernero @toao-naturelife @hopelessad @glori-a-lina @carsonash @be-a-slut--do-whatever-you-want @polarisiertx @same-shit-but-a-different-day @regenbogenschokolade @aimless-and-lost and @rebell-mit-gutem-grund

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hopelesshawks · 2 years

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Ash and Dust Part 23- Trust

18+ Dabi x fem!reader (MINORS DNI)

The beginning of this is heavily inspired by The Beach by The Neighbourhood. May be cool to listen while you read:

Warnings for: description of blood as tears, overstimulation, minor edging, hand job, oral sex (m!receiving), dom/sub dynamics, cumplay, multiple orgasms, praise kink, explicit discussion of consent and safe gesture, fingering (m!receiving), prostate milking, fingering (f!receiving), oral sex (f!receiving), face sitting, smut is very dabi-centric, limited aftercare

Link to change y/n to your actual name (not mobile compatible)

Masterlist Kofi (Help Lulu)

You’re sitting on the bed picking at the bandages on your arms when you hear the door to your room open and close.

“I’m fine, you didn’t have to come check on me. I knew your brother was a dick when he first moved in, I don’t know why I’m acting shocked,” you sigh, not bothering to look up.

“Well that’s kind of rude, don’t ya think Doll.”

Your head snaps up in surprise at the sound of Dabi’s voice.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, genuine confusion lacing your tone.

“I don’t appreciate people putting words in my mouth. Especially when they don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about.”

You scoff and it hurts him a little bit, makes his lungs constrict as he moves towards you. He ends up sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard, his long legs stretched out on top of the blanket. Your back is to him this way but that makes it easier. He stares at his hands, allowing small blue flames to move along and between his fingers.

“What you said in the warehouse… Before we fell asleep. If I had said it back, what would you have done?” he finally asks.

“I don’t know Dabi, does it matter?” you sigh.

“It does to Touya.”

You finally turn to look at him but his gaze doesn’t leave the dancing flame in his hands.

“Am I talking to Dabi or Touya?” you ask cautiously.

“Both. Neither? Fuck. I don’t know, ok? I don’t know,” he all but growls, his hands clenching into fists and snuffing out the little blue fire that had been there.

“It’s ok to not know.”

“It’s not!” his voice roars and the flames in his hands rise with it, a column of violet shooting up and threatening to set the blankets of the bed alight.

You finally move, shifting on the bed so you’re sitting next to him, putting your own back to the headboard as well. You reach for his still flaming hands and they extinguish immediately, his gaze shooting to you, ready to question your sanity when he feels one of your hands rest on his clenched fists, easing them apart until you can tangle the fingers of one of them with yours. All the words he might’ve said die on his lips as you gently squeeze and he knows blood is dripping from one of the patches beneath his eyes but he can’t find it in himself to care.

“That was fucking stupid, I could’ve burned you,” he grumbles, ignoring the wetness he can feel on one of his cheeks.

“I knew you wouldn’t.”

“I’ve done it before.”

His eyes go to the bandages wrapped around your arms but you shrug.

“What, these? Just means we match now bacon boy.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I was only sort of kidding.”

Silence settles over the room as you lean some of your weight against him, your shoulders pressing against each other now as you start to stroke your thumb over the back of his hand.

“I’ve been relying on you. Ever since that old bast– ever since my dad died I’ve been relying on you,” Touya finally admits, the words tasting like ash on his tongue.

“It’s ok to rely on people,” you hum.

“Not for me.”

“Yes for you. Even you deserve people to rely on.”

“Like you?”

You shrug.

“Or your brothers downstairs.”

Another moment of silence settles over you both as he mulls over your words. You turn his hand over, realizing the patch of skin your thumb has been rubbing over feels rough to the touch even though you can feel that it runs after the cool metal of the staples on his hand.

“The burn is spreading,” you note, brows furrowing with concern as you look at the newly scarred skin.

“Right quirk, wrong body, Doll. I’m not fireproof,” he shrugs and your hand tightens around his.

“You’re not allowed to burn yourself up.”

“I already am. And I’m sc–,” he cuts himself off, teeth gritting as his hand tightens around yours this time.

“I don’t want you to burn with me. That’s why I left.”

“So, what, you’re just gonna roll over and die?” you ask, voice quivering slightly in spite of yourself.

“Obviously I hope I don’t Doll,” he quips, eyes rolling before you watch in real time as he begrudgingly lays himself bare before you.

“But I care more about not burdening you if I do,” he admits, his voice almost a whisper as he does so.

Your body moves almost instinctively, pulling yourself into his lap so you’re straddling his hips. Your hands go to his cheeks, thumbing away the streaks of red you find there as you force him to look into your eyes.

“Just tell me one thing?” you ask gently.

“Anything,” he sighs on an exhale that sounds suspiciously like relief as his hands come to rest on your waist.

“Let’s pretend for a second that I could guarantee you wouldn’t burn me up. I know I can’t but just humor me. What would you want to tell me?”

Your forehead comes to rest against his and his eyes slip shut, eyebrows scrunching like he’s in pain as he makes his next confession. His voice trembles and you can hear how much he hates how emotional he’s getting, but that only convinces you all the more that he’s being honest.

“I need you. I’d tell you I need you.”

You seal your lips against his and immediately he pulls you in closer to him. You feel your cheeks getting wet but you’re not the one crying, so you treat him with gentle touches, handling him like he’s got glass bones and a paper mache heart. The world has not been kind to Dabi, nor has he been kind to it in turn; but right now, as you swipe your tongue along his bottom lip in silent question and he easily obliges, you think that maybe, just maybe, he’s finally ready to take the hand you first offered him when you found him alone in the rain outside Endeavor’s room.

“Lay down for me baby, c’mon,” you whisper against his lips, encouraging him to slip down the bed until he’s lying on his back.

He moves without question, trusting you completely as you settle yourself on top of him, hands gliding down from his cheeks, down the sides of his neck, to his chest, and then lower still. You make quick work of the button on his jeans, slipping your hand past his boxer briefs to grasp hold of his already half hard cock. Each stroke is gentle as you ease him into a full erection, leaning down to murmur praise in his ear as you start to tighten your grip around him. He’s surprisingly sensitive, murmured curses dripping from his mouth like honey as you swipe your thumb over the swollen head of his dick, smearing the precum beading there and using it as lube. Maybe it’s because he’s laid himself so emotionally bare to you, let you so deeply into his soul, that each touch is driving him wild when you’ve barely done anything yet. Whatever it is, he feels his hips instinctively canting up so he can fuck into your fist, arousal coiling tightly in his lower belly.

“Slow down or ‘m gonna– fuck,” he pants.

“It’s ok baby, do it. Show me how bad you need me and cream your pants,” you command gently, stroking him faster as his breathing gets shallower.

He wants to resist, wants to tell you to fuck off, wants to take back control, but actually he really, really, really doesn’t want to do any of those things at all. So as you continue to coo in his ear he let’s that coil of arousal snap, groaning your name as he spills over your hand and into the fabric of his underwear. He expects you to stop, or at least slow down, but instead you just use his seed to further facilitate the glide of your hand on his shaft.

“Doll, wait, sensitive,” he huffs, already practically twitching beneath you.

“Shh, don’t worry. You trust me right?”

“Yea. Yea I trust you.”

“Then just lie back and enjoy.”

You use your free hand to push his shirt up and over his chest, thumbing one of his hardened nipples as you go which only makes him groan even louder. You start to press soft, open mouthed kisses to your neck as your free hand moves to shove down his pants and soiled boxers, finally freeing his cock as you continue stroking it. Your own sex is soaked in your arousal but you push it to the back of your mind, choosing instead to focus on sucking marks into his skin as your one hand pinches and tweaks his nipples and the other continues to work his shaft.

“Baby, baby, God, feels so–,” he gasps and it’s hard to resist a chuckle at the way he’s falling apart so wonderfully for you.

“What? Gonna cum again?” you ask.

“Yes.”

You stop moving your hand and this time you can’t stop the giggle that bubbles up out of your chest when he groans in frustration.

“Why’d ya stop?”

“If you wanna cum I need to hear the magic word.”

“Fuck you.”

“Nice try but no. A different magic word.”

There’s a silence as his cheeks flush red, eyes shifting off to the side to glare at the wall. It’s like he’s pouting and it makes your heart flutter in your chest. You can practically see the word working its way up his throat, dancing on his tongue just waiting to be free while his pride attempts to hold it back. You bring your hand up to the swollen head of his dick, rubbing your thumb over it for a little extra motivation as you punch another expletive from his chest.

“Fuck ok fine. Just let me cum. Please.”

“Look at me when you’re begging to cum,” you order and it almost surprises you both just how quickly he snaps to obey.

Electric blue eyes find yours, lust and hunger and arousal and trust shining there as his breath stutters in his chest and he tries again.

“Please, let me cum.”

“Of course baby.”

Your hand resumes its brutal pace from before, stroking him harder and faster as he starts to writhe beneath you. You sit up more so you can watch him better, the hand not on his dick moving to play with his balls instead, and within moments he’s cumming again, whole body jerking with the force of it as he paints his own chest white.

“Such a good boy,” you hum in approval as his chest heaves with exertion.

Your hands move to his thighs, spreading them a little wider so you can properly appreciate the debauched image in front of you. You’re far from satisfied though. Part of you needs this too, needs to know that he trusts you enough to let you turn him to mush. You slip further down his body until your head is between his thighs, eyeing up his cock as it twitches, still coated in his earlier releases. He doesn’t notice. He’s got one arm thrown over his eyes as he tries to catch his breath, still reeling from his last orgasm. It’s the feeling of your breath ghosting along his sex that finally draws his attention. He lifts his arm just enough to peer down at you, taking note of your new position.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing down there?” he asks gruffly, although any bite in the question is belied by the fact he’s still out of breath.

“Don’t think I’m done with you yet,” you tease, licking an experimental stripe along the underside of his dick. If it had been softening before it certainly wasn’t anymore, slowly coming back to attention already.

His entire body jolts, hips briefly arching off the bed.

“(y/n)!”

“So sensitive baby, I don’t think it would take much for me to make you cum again yea?”

“I can’t.”

He practically whines the words and it makes something in you feral but his arm is covering his eyes again and as much as you’re loving every minute of this you refuse to abuse the trust he’s putting in you.

“Look at me for a second baby.”

Your voice is gentle, patting the unscarred skin of his thigh to draw his attention to you. He lifts his arm again, peering down at you.

“Listen. I think you can and you’ve been such a good boy for me, but I can’t feel what you feel baby. So if it’s too much I can stop right now. No pushing, no judgment.”

He considers your words carefully for a moment and you watch a myriad of emotions flicker across his face in the span of only a couple seconds as he debates internally.

“How many more?” he ends up asking.

“Two,” you reply calmly.

“Two?”

“You can still change your mind once we start. If you agree but then realize it’s too much, just tap my shoulder three times and I’ll stop immediately. Ok?”

“Ok.”

“Do you want me to start?”

He nods.

“Need a verbal answer from you, Love.”

“Yea, yea just do it,” he huffs.

His slight embarrassment makes a pretty flush spread through his chest, his unscarred skin turning pink. He even removes his arm from over his eyes, although his gaze does stay fixed on the ceiling, giving you the honor of seeing the way pink dusts across his cheekbones.

“You’re so beautiful, baby. My pretty boy.”

If anyone had asked him a few hours ago if he’d enjoy being called pretty boy he would’ve cremated them on the spot, but somehow when it’s coming from you it makes his heart sing. No one has ever treasured him like this and so, even though every unburned nerve in his body practically screams when you lick another long stripe up his too sensitive dick, he yearns for it. He yearns for you to make him cum again, yearns to please you. Because you’re giving him more than you could possibly realize and he never wants it to end.

His cock is an absolute mess as you wrap your hand back around the base, his abs twitching as he groans through it. You start to stroke him again, just admiring the view as he grips tightly onto the blankets beneath you both, singeing the fabric as his palms heat up. His back arches off the mattress as your hand milks him for all he’s worth, but then your mouth finds its way to his balls, sucking one of them into his mouth and immediately he’s done for. He practically sobs out his release, cum a little thinner and a little more translucent as it splatters across his chest.

“Three down, one to go. Still doing ok?” you ask, once again leaning up to check in on him.

He nods almost frantically, eyes squeezed shut as you swipe one hand along the mess he’s made of his chest, gathering as much of his release on your fingers as you can and in the process further smearing it across his torso. Once your fingers are thoroughly coated, you bring them down lower and lower until they finally reach their destination: the puckered ring of his ass. You swirl your finger around the tight muscle, feeling the way he tenses slightly against you at the foreign feeling.

“What's the safe gesture?” you ask, pressing a kiss to his inner thigh.

“Three taps on your shoulder,” he moans, hands not straying from where they’re burning holes in the comforter.

“Good boy.”

You push the first finger past the tight ring of muscle and he gasps at the sensation, dick twitching in interest. You can tell he’s still clenching a little too tight so you bring your mouth back to his balls, mouthing at them to distract him from the discomfort of you pushing your finger deeper inside. Only once you’re sure he can handle it do you add a second finger and start to work him open in earnest. You can tell the minute the burn fades into pleasure because he starts to keen, exhausted and overstimulated dick barely able to keep up as it slowly hardens again. You push in a third and his back arches, trying to fuck himself back on the digits as you shower him with praise. Your fingers drag along his inner walls, searching, until you press down on one spot in particular and his eyes fly open, immediately shooting down to find yours.

“Again. That, there, again, please,” he begs and you’re more than happy to oblige.

You press down on his prostate again, loving the way his head falls back, throat bared to you as he falls apart. He’s the perfect portrait of debauchery and part of you wishes you could take a picture as you continue your assault, milking his prostate for all it’s worth as you watch precum start leaking out of the head of his cock.

“So… close… ‘m so close,” he pants, fucking himself back on your fingers.

“Then cum baby. Cum for me.”

He obliges with a cry so loud you’re sure Shouto and Natsuo must have heard it downstairs. His release is completely clear this time, joining the rest of the mess he’s made on his own torso. Your cunt clenches around nothing, panties absolutely soaked but you push your own need aside, instead withdrawing your fingers from inside him and place your hands on his inner thighs instead. As you gently knead the muscles there to help relieve some of the built up tension, he melts into the mattress, relaxed in a way you’ve never seen him before.

“C’mere,” he mumbles, tugging you back up towards him.

You oblige, crawling back up the bed so you’re hovering above him, noting the way his eyes look just a little glassy. You press a kiss to his forehead, smoothing back the white strands of his hair that stick to his forehead.

“You did so well for me baby, I’m so proud,” you coo but he shakes his head.

“Wanna make you feel good now,” he insists, hands pushing at your sweatpants.

“It’s ok, I’m fine. Tonight was about you,” you promise, peppering light kisses across his face.

“No,” he insists, the word surprisingly forceful for how otherwise pliant he is beneath you, “tonight is about us.”

His hand slips past the waistband of the sweats and your panties to touch your sex and the noise he makes when he feels just how wet you are is downright sinful.

“God baby, you’re soaked.”

He slips two fingers inside your dripping cunt like it’s nothing and immediately you clench around the digits, your own body singing at finally getting attention.

“So fucking tight too. Wanna be inside you, wana fucking fill you up with my cum so goddamn bad,” he groans and as much as you love this mouthier side of him, as much as you would love to feel his cock filling you up again, you have to shake your head.

“Baby you’re already shooting blanks. There’s always next time, it’s–ah–it’s ok,” you assure him, trying not to let the way his fingers start to pump in and out of you cloud your judgment.

“Then sit on my face baby, c’mon, please. Want you to, want you to cum on my tongue.”

Well who are you to say no to that when he’s begging so nicely.

“Ok, ok gimme a sec to strip baby, yea?”

He nods and it takes everything in you not to whine when he withdraws his fingers from inside you. You wiggle out of your sweats and panties first, nearly shivering as your dripping sex is bared to the room. You sit on his abs while you shuck off your shirt and bra and the feeling of his previous releases beneath you does nothing to abate the heat in your core. He takes the opportunity to fully kick off his own pants and underwear and dispose of his shirt, leaving you both completely naked.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

The words slip out of both your mouths at almost exactly the same time and it makes something warm settle in your chest. You only bask in the feeling for a moment though before scarred hands find your waist and tug until your core is hovering just above eager lips. You try to carefully settle your weight on top of his lips but he’s having none of it. Hands tighten around you as you’re roughly pulled down until your full weight is on his mouth. His tongue slips into your cunt, nose brushing against your clit with every move as he devours you like it’s his last meal. Curses fall from your lips unceasingly as you grind down against him, already so close to the precipice as he licks along every inch of your inner walls. It doesn’t take much to push you close to the edge, watching him fall apart had already gotten you most of the way there. When he shifts his hands so one can rub messy circles into your clit, it catapults you over the ledge, vision whiting out for a moment as you cry out your ecstasy. He coaxes you through your orgasm, gradually slowing his movements and only coming to a complete stop once you’ve returned to earth from the ecstasy from your high.

You practically collapse onto the bed beside him, still slightly in disbelief at what had just happened. He rolls over to seek you out, pulling your body against his. It takes convincing to get him to loosen his hold long enough for you to pull the sheets and blanket over you both, but as soon as you’re settled under the covers you turn to face him and tangle your legs with his. You let him cradle you close, one of your hands making its way to his hair to scratch along his scalp.

“Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he murmurs as he presses his forehead to yours.

“Of course baby,” you purr but he shakes his head.

“No, you don’t understand, I–” he cuts himself off, the instinct to protect his vulnerabilities flaring up as he starts to make his confession. He powers through it, forcing his eyes to meet yours as he resumes speaking.

“I haven’t felt so much in such a long time. So thank you (y/n),” he elaborates.

You think of your burns, like his, on your forearms. You think of the way that the most sensation you get from them is pressure. You think of what it would be like for the same to be true of large swathes of your body. You think of all of those things and you understand.

“You’re welcome–” you hesitate at the name, not sure which one to call him.

“Dabi or Touya?” you ask gently.

“I honestly don’t know anymore,” he admits.

“That’s ok. I’ll help you figure it out. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

A/N: This is so fucking long oh my GOD. This got so incredibly far away from me. Most parts of this series clock in around 1200 words. The part with Toga was more like 2000 something. This absolute BEHEMOTH is roughly THREE POINT NINE THOUSAND (~3.9k). Which also means I can't be bothered to proofread it tonight lmao so apologies for any typos I will probably find and fix them later. I hope y'all enjoyed this. Next part is the epilogue and thus the finale.

(bold couldn't be tagged)

#hopelessad #dabi x y/n #dabi x fem!reader #touya x y/n #touya x fem!reader #dabi x reader #touya x reader #bnha dabi #touya todoroki #hopeless.thirst #Spotify

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

Text

Ash and Dust Masterlist

18+ Dabi x fem!reader

This story is 18+ only, minors dni

Status: Completed

Taglist [closed]: @thechroniclesofawriter @simpsfortodoroki @ahtsuwu @002opdestiny @larkspyrr @oikawaandkuroostan @tina-98 @vibesdontlie @clubfairy @oddball215 @myfavoriteficsandsuch @h0wab0utw3d0ntd0that @alyssa6marie @bleuchichiriq

i. Lost

ii. Rude Awakening

iii. Sound the Alarm

iv. Sadistic Pleasures

v. Interesting

vi. Small Victories

vii. Opportunities

viii. Domesticity

ix. Search and Rescue

x. Here to Talk

xi. Mistakes

xii. Survival Instincts

xiii. Some Bitch

xiv. Homecoming

xv. New Intimacies

xvi. Silent Support

xvii. The Best Worst Thing

xviii. Aftermath

xix. A Friend

xx. Guilt

xxi. Toga

xxii. Family Reunion

xxiii. Trust

xxiv. Peace

#hopelessad #dabi #dabi x y/n #dabi x fem!reader #touya todoroki #touya x y/n #touya x fem!reader #dabi x reader #touya x reader

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hopelesshawks · 2 years

Text

Ash and Dust Part 24- Peace

18+ Dabi x fem!reader (MINORS DNI)

Link to change (y/n) to your actual name (not mobile compatible)

Masterlist KoFi (Help Lulu <;3)

Everything is quiet and still beneath the waves.

The water is the perfect temperature, a hair or two above freezing just the way Touya likes it. His thoughts and apprehensions feel a lot more manageable when he’s suspended in the water this way, eyes closed as he focuses on the way the unrelenting iciness of the ocean leeches away the heat from his body.

Eventually his lungs demand he get air so he kicks up until his head breaks free of the water’s surface. Instinctively his eyes go to the beach and he finds you there waving him over, his towel thrown over your shoulder. He chuckles to himself, swimming over towards you until the water is shallow enough he can stand and walk the rest of the way. As he approaches he realizes you’re covered in paint, a familiar sight since he turned one of the many rooms in the house into a new art studio for you. He makes note of each color that stains your skin, the way he always does, noting blacks, blues, whites, and violets cover your hands and bandaged arms. A few smudges have even managed to get on your cheeks and it makes something fond well in his chest.

“Thought I still had a minute,” he says, accepting his towel as you pass it to him and moving to dry himself off.

“You do, just wanted to show you something first. C’mon,” you tell him, barely able to suppress the grin on your face as you lead him back towards the house.

He allows you to pull him, toweling himself off along the way as you go through the back door of the house and over to the other side where your studio awaits. Right before entering you turn to him, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Ok, close your eyes,” you command giddily.

“Why?” Dabi shoots back, brow arched.

You roll your eyes, although your smile doesn’t dim for even a moment.

“Just do it, will you? What I wanna show you is a surprise!”

“If this was all a long con to kill me in your studio for the art I’ll be both proud and disappointed.”

You roll your eyes again at his teasing.

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Always, Doll.”

“Then shut the fuck up and close your eyes.”

He chuckles but complies, his eyes shutting as you pull him forward and into your studio. You’re so careful when you guide him, making sure he doesn’t bump into anything in the cluttered space. Once you both have crossed the room you tell him exactly where to stand, using your hands to position him properly before finally stepping away and announcing he can open his eyes.

He opens his eyes and practically stops breathing. Sure, he was expecting to see your latest painting but he wasn’t expecting this.

It’s him, suspended like he just was in the ocean only minutes earlier but in a sea of stars instead. His hair is white, just like it is now, and violet flames curl around his body in thin ribbons, illuminating the outline of his skin and clothes. You haven’t shied away from painting his scars, putting excruciating detail into each inch and he bets if he counted the staples, he’d find you’d painted in exactly as many as he actually has. It’s surreal. He knows you’ve been putting in a lot of hours in the studio to work on a piece, spent days making sketch after sketch until you finally had found it perfect, never letting him see the work. It’s staggering to realize he had been the subject of all that time and effort. He can’t help but step forward, fingers reaching out to graze the dried paint. You don’t even flinch, even though you know from experience that his touch could ruin all your hard work in an instant. Instead when he turns to you the only thing he finds is eager excitement.

Dabi remembers back when you’d accidentally walked in on him in the bath, the way he’d wondered how your skin would be stained if you’d spent all day painting him instead of his little brother. Now he got to know and standing there with a bright, proud grin stretched across your face, covered in his colors, he thinks he’s never seen a more beautiful sight.

“Do you like it?” you ask eagerly.

“I love it,” he breathes, closing the distance between you both so he can wrap you in his arms.

“I–“

Love you. He still can’t say the words. Every time he tries they feel odd and foreign on his tongue. His lips still refuse to form them even though it’s been months since he got you back. It doesn’t matter though, because your patience with him on things like this is apparently endless, smile softening as you squeeze him tightly.

“I really love it,” he tells you instead, knowing you’ll be able to translate the words.

“I love you too,” you reply, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips that he happily returns.

You may have stayed that way for hours, exchanging slow, languid kisses in the comfort of your studio, but the sound of the doorbell echoing through the house disrupts the moment. Dabi groans but you just chuckle, extricating yourself from his grip before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Time’s up, baby. I’ll let them in while you change,” you offer.

“Can’t we just cancel? I’d rather stay right here,” he groans, hand reaching out to grasp your waist and pull you back to him as he sits down on your artist chair.

“We are not cancelling when they literally are at the door right now and drove all this way,” you chide.

“You sure? Because I’m pretty sure as hosts we can.”

You roll your eyes, unwrapping the bandages from your arms now that you’re no longer working with paint. You’d learned very early on that cleaning paint out of your burns was a nightmare. It’s Touya’s sign you’re serious about not being rude. He resigns himself to giving in even before you rest your hands on his cheeks and give him That Look you always give him before convincing him to do something he dreads that’s ultimately for the best.

“I know it’s a lot and you’re worried, but Natsu says Rei and Fuyumi are super excited. This will be good,” you assure him.

“I’m not worried,” he scoffs, eyes rolling although you know him too well to be fooled.

“You are and that’s ok,” you press a kiss to his forehead before tugging him back onto his feet, “now go get changed while I answer the door.”

Touya would be lying if he said he didn’t take a little bit longer than strictly necessary to change into proper clothes. While Natsuo and Shouto had become regular fixtures in your and his life, this would be his first time speaking with his mother and sister since running away all those years ago. They’re the last bridges he needs to repair before he can really wrap his head around potentially being a Todoroki again, but you’ve been fairly confident that doing so would help with his ongoing identity crisis.

He pauses when he gets to the top of the stairs, watching from a distance the scene unfolding in the foyer. It’s more joy than the house has ever seen previously. You and what remains of his family all chat and laugh together, your smile so bright he swears it’s even illuminating where he is at the top of the stairs. You don’t shy away from the burns on your arms or act ashamed of them. It’s like you don’t even notice them anymore. He watches you fit so naturally in with his family and as you turn to look over your shoulder, reaching out and somehow beaming even brighter when you notice him at the top of the stairs, he knows you’ll help him fit back in too. If and only if that’s what he wants.

It’s certainly not perfect.

Toga is still in the wind. He still hasn’t found a solution for using his quirk without burning himself (after all, he hadn’t had a reason to bother looking for one until you walked into his life). He’s not 100% certain that he’ll be able to connect with Rei and Fuyumi the way he has slowly been learning to with his brothers.

Heck, he’s still not even sure whether he’s Dabi, Touya, or some combination of the two.

But as he descends the stairs to join you and you immediately slot yourself against him without missing a beat, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulders as your own settles around his waist, he knows he’s sure of one thing.

He’ll always have you by his side.

And at the end of the day, that’s all he needs.

A/N: I’m literally in shock that I’ve finished this series. It ended up so much longer than I thought it would be but I’m very happy with how it turned out. I actually didn’t like Dabi all that much before writing this series. Like I always thought he was a really interesting character but, like Dabi at the start of this fic, I wasn’t positive the canon version of him could fall in love. Now he’ll always have a special place in my heart. Thank all of you who have stuck with me through this entire series. I cannot thank you enough

#hopelessad #dabi x fem!reader #dabi x y/n #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x fem!reader #touya todoroki x y/n #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki #bnha dabi

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

Text

Ash and Dust Part 17- The Best Worst Thing

18+ Dabi x fem!reader (MINORS DNI)

Warnings: major character injury, unprotected penetrative sex, choking, slight size kink, marking/hickeys, light nipple play, fingering (f!receiving), slight body worship, implied breathplay

Link to change y/n to your actual name (not mobile compatible)

Masterlist Kofi (Help Lulu)

Dabi knows this a dumb idea but if it gets you off his back so be it.

The graveyard is quiet when he arrives, gravel crunching underneath his boots as he makes his way in from the back of it. He navigates through the stones easily. It’s a familiar path. He visited the Todoroki family grave stone a lot when he was young and dumb and thought maybe he’d find his father there.

It’s funny how it took dying for the man to bother showing up.

Eventually the stone comes into his line of sight and with it what remains of the Todoroki family. Dabi finds a different headstone with a view from afar to lean against, tugging his hood more aggressively over his face to make sure there’s no chance he’ll be recognized as he takes in his family’s grief. Natsuo looks even paler than usual and although he’s glaring at the stone, his eyes are red. Shouto’s eyes are also dry but the furrow of his brow and tight grip on his mother’s shoulder betray his inner turmoil.

Rei and Fuyumi are another story.

Silent tears race down Rei’s cheeks as she whispers something into the petals of the flowers she clutches in her hands before laying them down with a sad smile. Fuyumi is far less composed, sobbing with her arms wound tightly around her torso. The setting sun casts their pain in angry shades of red and for some reason Dabi finds himself suddenly and deeply uncomfortable. He shifts in place against the grave behind him, clearing his throat roughly as a lump starts to form in it. Fuyumi speaks up, her gasping words carrying through the silence of the graveyard.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t fix things sooner,” she cries, clutching herself tighter.

“That was never your responsibility,” Rei hushes her.

He can’t explain it, but for some reason when Rei pulls Fuyumi into a hug, his brain supplants his sister with you. Suddenly it’s you sobbing into his mother’s chest about your regrets, seeking comfort at a family plot he could’ve truly been a part of had life been kinder to him. Dabi has known for a long time he has the right quirk in the wrong body and that simple fact could be the death of him. It’s never bothered him before but the longer he stays and watches, the more he can picture a real funeral for himself and wonder if you’d be the only one in attendance.

Eventually his family collects themselves, the sky shifting from reds to deep blues as the sun begins to properly drop below the horizon. As they leave, he finds his feet carrying him towards the stone. It’s been a decade since he last visited and he expects to have completely left the pain and abandonment and rejection the place used to bring him behind in the past. Instead, as his eyes fall to his father’s name, the only thing that’s truly changed in the years since he last came to this stupid place, he finds that old burden settling heavy again on his shoulders.

“You bastard.”

The words are barely a mutter but he finds himself gritting his teeth through them all the same. The familiar flames of Dabi’s anguish build beneath his skin and deep within his chest, overwhelming him entirely as he repeats the phrase.

“You fucking bastard,” he rages into the otherwise quiet night, uncaring if his family had yet to get far enough away to avoid hearing him.

He’s suddenly overwhelmed, his quirk activating on its own accord in response to his rising distress. It should be painful but the flames only further char his already damaged skin, the nerve endings long since burned away in the initial accident that turned him into the monster he is today. Fight or flight takes full effect and his body distinctly chooses both as flames continue to wind their way around his arms and his feet take him far and away from the no longer empty grave.

It’s not until he’s literally inside your studio staring at you in all your paint splattered and bewildered glory, the door still swinging on its hinges from where he’d forced it open, that he realizes his body had instinctively taken him to you. Your lips move and worry furrows your brow but he can’t hear it over the sound of his own complicated feelings. The flames don’t die down. He thought seeing you would quell everything raging inside him immediately but it doesn’t and there’s something so fundamentally unfair about that. He needs an outlet, immediately, and with each passing second he gets more and more worried that outlet might end up being you, so without thinking he lashes out to the side.

In moments the canvases that had been laying against the wall ignite but still he burns and rages and despairs. No matter how many times you call his name, he can’t help but lash out over and over and over again until every single piece strewn about the concrete building is awash in blue flames. The temperature of the room spikes and Dabi’s so sure he’s finally put the last nail in the coffin of whatever the two of you have had. He always has been and always will be a disappointing case study in the ugliness of destruction. Yet as he spirals and starts to feel his cheeks going wet with blood, you surge towards him, not away. He tries to warn you you’ll get burned but you ignore him entirely, instead bringing your hands to caress his cheeks while his still burning ones instinctively wrap around your forearms. He watches his flames lick at your skin but you hold firm in your position in front of him. You’ve realized by now that he can’t hear you so you’ve switched to silent communication with your eyes, urging him to explain what’s going on. Somehow it works and although the flames rage on, his mouth opens and the words come tumbling out easily.

“I tried to sleep with someone the night you came back for me,” he admits.

It’s not even sort of what you expected him to say but you nod your head, too zeroed in on Dabi to even consider acknowledging the painful burns you’re acquiring on your forearms.

“No you don’t get it,” he insists, practically growling as his flames momentarily get more intense.

Your forearms stop hurting and you know that can’t be a good sign but you refuse to let him go, refuse to watch him fall apart any more than he already has.

“I tried to fuck someone and I thought of you,” he clarifies, making your breath catch in your throat even with the scent of your own charring flesh starting to fill the air as much as the smoke from your paintings.

“My dad-” he chokes up, the words catching in his throat as the red streams making their way down his face intensify.

“My dad died and I thought of you. My mom was comforting my sobbing sister at our fucking grave and I thought of you.”

He presses his forehead to yours and you let him, his grip tightens on your arms and it only resonates as a dull pressure.

“I moved back into our place and I thought of you.”

Slowly acceptance seems to creep in, the flames of his hands burning lower and lower until there’s nothing but smoke left, although the paintings surrounding you both continue to burn brightly.

“I tried to put furniture in and I thought of you. It’s always you.”

“It’s ok, I’m right here,” you murmur and something in Dabi seems to snap because he drops to his knees in front of you, his hands shifting from your damaged forearms to your blistering hands, clutching them between his like something precious.

“Please,” he begs and it’s pathetic but it’s all he can manage, not even sure what he’s even pleading for in the first place.

He wants you to never leave his side.

He wants you to stay as far away from him as possible.

“We need to get out of here,” you tell him as calmly as possible, hyper aware of the spreading flames.

“You need to get out of here,” he corrects.

“I’m not leaving you behind.”

“You shouldn’t worry about me, worry about yourself.”

“No! I won’t abandon you!”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut right as the archaic sprinkler system of the warehouse finally clues into the fire’s existence. Water rains down from the ceiling, extinguishing the flaming remains of your studio as you sink down to Dabi’s level. You make sure he’s fully meeting your eyes, staring into the electric blue of his irises so he knows you mean every word you say. Most of the burns on your skin still sting and your clothes are already soaked through, but all that matters to you is getting your message through to Dabi. “I swear to you, I will not abandon you,” you promise, spoken like an unbreakable oath.

It takes a second for the words to process and with your eyes still locked onto his, it’s easy to see the exact moment he parses what you said. You barely have time to process his bewildered expression before he surges forward, pressing his lips to yours to finally satiate the hunger that had been festering inside him for longer than even he can comprehend. Part of him expects revulsion but instead you reciprocate with the same intensity, mouths clashing almost violently as you pull each other closer, closer, closer until even the barrier of your clothing feels like too much separating you from each other. Dabi pulls back but only barely, lips still close enough that they brush against yours as he speaks.

“Off,” he murmurs, tugging at your shirt.

“You too,” you breathe.

It takes twice as long as it should to peel yourself out of your drenched clothing but it’s worth it for the tangible relief that runs through you both once you finally have stripped down and collide together again. Your hands roam eagerly over his body, reveling in the amount of trust he’s given you. Whether it’s his burned flesh or what remains of his unscarred skin, you worship every inch with your touch. As he lays you down against the concrete, his lips drop to your neck, sucking bruises into the fragile skin. You gasp, back and throat arching up into him, and it makes him smirk against your skin. He lifts away, his hand slipping up your body until it reaches up to hover over your neck but then he hesitates. You watch something flicker behind his eyes that looks suspiciously like fear. For years and years his hands have primarily been used to destroy and you can’t help but wonder if he’s forgotten by now that that’s not all that they’re for.

So you curl your hand around his wrist and gently bring his hand to your throat, eyes never leaving his as if daring him to warn you away. He huffs out a chuckle, a quick, quiet sound, before he leans down to capture your lips again, hand tightening just enough to ground you as he grinds his erection down against your pubic bone and it hits you just how deep inside he’ll be once he finally fucks you. His free hand moves to your breast, tweaking your hardened nipples until you can barely maintain the kiss for how much you’re moaning. Each keening whine has his dick twitching where it’s trapped between your bellies and wears his patience that much thinner. But Dabi has always been good at playing the waiting game so he continues to tease, continues to pull those perfect little sounds out of you until he’s certain you’re an absolute mess on the concrete floor beneath him, and then, when he finally brings a hand down to your neglected sex, he can’t help but smirk against your lips as he feels how absolutely soaked your folds are. He gathers your juices on his fingers before moving to press circles into your clit, his other hand tightening just a fraction on your throat when you whine in response. His lips move to the shell of your ear, whispering “you make the prettiest little noises for me (y/n),” in your ear just as he slips one finger inside you.

It’s overwhelming in the best way possible, having Dabi all over you and as one finger turns to two and then three, you’re helpless to do anything but whimper and whine and moan for the wild, broken man you’ve fallen in love with.

What a funny little thing love is.

You’d stop believing in it years ago; watched the broken little thing it turned your mother into and vowed to learn from her mistakes. You dated losers and assholes and dickheads and told yourself you just had rotten luck when the truth was that you sought out men who’d never give you all of them so they wouldn’t notice you never giving them all of you.

But Dabi is different.

He barged into your life uninvited and unwanted and promptly wormed his way into even the coldest and darkest of recesses in your heart. He ruined everything and in doing so allowed you to rise from the ashes like a phoenix, finally enjoying your life in a way you hadn’t for a very long time. You won’t thank him for it, not when he was actively trying to do the opposite, but by inserting himself so deeply into your life, he’d accidentally inserted you equally as deeply into his and that you are grateful for.

The grip on your throat gets warmer for a moment, dragging you more fully back into the moment as Dabi withdraws his fingers from inside you. You whine at the loss but Dabi ignores it.

“Watcha thinkin’ about that’s distracting you from all the fun,” he questions, voice teasing.

“You,” you reply honestly and he seems surprised by the admission but recovers quickly.

“Oh yea? What about me?”

“That you, Dabi, are the best worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

The words fully stop him in his tracks, his hands leaving your body to prop him up properly over you so he can fully see your face and look for any tiny little sign that you’re lying. He finds none, and that makes everything even more destabilizing as your hands come up to his cheeks once more, touching him tenderly like he’s the most precious thing in the world.

“Touya.”

The name slips from his mouth before he can stop it.

“Call me Touya.”

He doesn’t know why exactly but he needs to hear it from you. He needs to know that that name can be said without anger or grief or bitter disappointment.

“Touya, you are the best worst thing to ever happen to me,” you tell him, firmly, confidently, like it’s the easiest thing in the world to say and it hits him like the hardest punch to the gut. It literally rips the air from his lungs and leaves him gasping. You smile, a light chuckle leaving your lips at his stunned reaction, and he should be offended by it but somehow coming from you he can’t bring himself to be. You take advantage of his shock to roll both of you over, straddling his hips before leaning down to press a peck to his lips, then the space between his browns, then the apples of his cheeks, before moving back to his lips to whisper against them “I am so glad to know you Todoroki Touya.”

Touya surges upwards, capturing your lips more fully against his as his hands find your waist and grip tight enough to bruise. His hips thrust up into yours and you eagerly grind down against him, both of you moaning sinfully into each other’s mouths. You’ve both waited long enough and so you lift your hips up, pressing one hand against his chest to help support you as you use the other to guide his throbbing erection to your waiting sex. You have to move slowly, taking a minute to adjust as you start to sink onto his waiting cock. It’s agonizing but worth it to hear the way Dabi growls when he finally bottoms out inside you. The hand you were just using to guide him instead shifts up his body only to wrap around his throat this time. He chuckles into your kiss again before moving one hand from your waist to join your hand on his throat, encouraging you to tighten the grip until he has to rasp to speak.

“If you’re gonna do it, fucking do it right,” he teases, tone all mischief.

“If you insist,” you laugh breathlessly.

You give yourself one more moment to adjust and then you start moving, guiding your hips up and down along his shaft at a steadily increasing pace. He takes a minute to grasp your pacing but once he does Dabi times his thrusts so he can meet you in the middle. The sound of wet flesh slapping against wet flesh echoes around the studio, interrupted only by the desperate noises the two of you manage to punch out of each other. He uses his grip on you to shift the angle and suddenly the next time your hips meet you can feel him brush against that perfect spot inside you that has curses spilling from your lips like a prayer. Your pussy clamps around him even harder, as if in approval, and soon you’re both tipping closer and closer to your climaxes.

“So fucking good Touya, fuck,” you manage to whimper as you feel your orgasm coiling tight in your gut, seconds away from snapping.

“Fucking anything for you (y/n), you’re mine now. Got it?” he growls, your hand, still wrapped so tightly and yet so lovingly around his throat, vibrating with the words.

It’s all you can do to agree, to affirm that you’re his and he is yours from this moment forward, as your orgasm finally crashes over you, pleasure racing through you and making your skin tingle. He follows shortly behind, moaning your name as he spills deep inside you. As you come down from your high you realize the sprinklers are no longer going off, although you couldn’t for the life of you say when it had happened. Without the water pouring down it’s a lot easier to take stock of the damage done to your studio and artwork. If the fire hadn’t been enough to destroy your works then the water had finished the job, but as Touya eases himself out of you and pulls you close, you find yourself not really caring about all the damage.

The important pieces you could reproduce, even if it will take some time. Touya’s blissed out expression as he cradles you against him though, his warmth already lulling you to sleep in spite of your location, is irreplaceable. As your eyes drift shut, sleep rapidly pulling you under, the words you’d been too scared to admit before finally slip out.

“I love you Touya.”

You’re fast asleep before you can hear his response.

A/N: Holy shit this part was a MONSTER. It's literally almost three times the length of the other parts. This entire fic could be sponsored by the album Wipeout by The Neighbourhood but this part leans heavily on the song Greetings from California in particular. Would recommend checking it out.

Taglist: @thechroniclesofawriter @simpsfortodoroki @ahtsuwu @oliviasslut @larkspyrr @oikawaandkuroostan @tina-98 @vibesdontlie @clubfairy @oddball215 @myfavoriteficsandsuch @h0wab0utw3d0ntd0that @alyssa6marie

#hopelessad #dabi x y/n #dabi x fem!reader #bnha dabi #touya x fem!reader #touya x y/n #todoroki touya #bnha touya #hopeless.thirst

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hopelesshawks · 2 years

Text

Ash and Dust Part 19- A Friend

18+ Dabi x fem!reader (MINORS DNI)

Link to change y/n to your actual name (not mobile compatible)

Masterlist Kofi (Help Lulu)

You spend every day leading up to your meeting with Shouto in your studio trying to recover at least some of the work you’d lost for him. It has the added benefit of keeping your mind off Dabi. Your dreams are filled with your one night with him so every night you work until exhaustion pulls you under in the hopes that you’ll crash into a hard dreamless sleep instead of having to see his face again.

Sometimes it works.

By the time you stumble your way to the coffee shop you always meet Todoroki at, the bags under your eyes are deep enough for you to carry all your art supplies in and you’ve only got scans of half of the designs you’d promised him. You clutch your bag with your laptop in it close to your chest, guilt and disappointment weighing heavy on your shoulders as you try to swallow the lump in your throat. Your nerves feel frayed as you make your way to the back of the coffee shop, moving as if you’re heading to your execution. It’s a wonder you even make it to the table, sitting down heavily in the chair and turning guilty eyes on an already concerned looking Shouto. He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to the punch.

“I only have half the designs finished I’m so sorry please don’t fire me I’ll finish the rest soon or pay you back or something I promise,” you babble desperately, clutching your laptop closer to your chest.

“I’m not going to fire you,” Shouto replies calmly, genuine confusion coloring his tone as he continues, “why would I do that?”

“But… I didn’t finish,” you repeat, eyes widening.

“We can do a limited run with the designs you do have finished and then do a full run of the merchandise line once you have the rest done. You have already done a lot for me and it hardly seems right for me to abandon you at the slightest inconvenience.”

Your entire body sags forward with relief as if the invisible strings holding up your rigid posture had been cut. You finally release the breath you’d been holding as your exhaustion comes rushing in in the absence of the crushing anxiety the past week had wrought.

“Thank you so much for understanding, I can show you the designs I have completed now then,” you tell him, setting the laptop down and moving to open it up when suddenly a hand is landing on yours. Heterochromatic eyes bore into yours and it’s odd seeing someone express such concern for you. Your mind starts to wander to Dabi and whether he’d have ever been able to look at you the same way but you quickly cut off the train of thought.

“Did the other designs get burned by any chance?” Todoroki asks.

At first his question surprises you. You’d made sure to wear long sleeves to hide the white bandages that still wrap around your forearms in order to avoid questions. But then you remember exactly who had wrapped those bandages in the first place.

“You talked to Natsuo,” you sigh.

“I did.”

“Yea there was a bit of a fire at my studio and I lost all my work. The designs I have today were what I was able to redo since. It’s not a big deal, just means I’m kind of behind.”

“Your arms are a very specific and unusual localization for a burn.”

You shrug.

“It’s been very publicized that you were in charge of the portrait of my father. If… If my family is the cause, if I put you in danger I-”

“No! No it’s not like that!” you swiftly cut Todoroki off, stunned at the level of emotion he’s showing. It’s nothing dramatic but it’s still strange to see such frustration and anger and guilt reflected in such a normally stoic face.

“You can’t expect me to believe your wounds are from an ordinary fire and not a quirk user and the timing is exceedingly suspicious,” Shouto points out.

You sigh. You’re loathe to admit everything that’s been happening with Dabi and how stupid you were to trust him, but you also don’t want Shouto blaming himself for your injuries.

“No you’re right about who gave me the injuries, just a little wrong on the context,” you admit, causing Shouto to tilt his head in confusion. He looks almost like a confused puppy. In a different situation it might’ve made you laugh.

“Dabi has kinda sorta been living with me? For like a while now? And technically burning my arms and studio was an accident,” you admit.

“An accident?” Shouto asks, one eyebrow lifting skeptically.

“I kind of convinced him to go to the vigil your family had and he didn’t take it well. His quirk got really out of hand, I doubt he had any control over it. He only got my arms because I was touching him while trying to calm him down.”

Shouto stops and mulls over your words, eyebrows furrowing.

“Where is he now?” he finally asks and immediately your face darkens.

“I don’t know anymore, some... stuff happened after I calmed him down and he bailed on me the next morning. I haven’t seen him since we went to sleep that night.”

“What stuff?”

“Just stuff! It’s not important!”

You can feel your cheeks heat up. Admitting Dabi’s been living with you is one thing, admitting that the two of you had sex on the concrete floor of your studio is another thing entirely. Especially to his little brother.

Shouto gives you a long considering look but in the end decides not to press you any further. Instead he just gives your hand a quick squeeze before releasing it and leaning back into his chair.

“How about I get you some tea while you load up the designs you were able to get and then you can walk me through them,” he offers, nodding as if to convince himself he’s making the right decision by dropping the subject.

“That sounds perfect,” you sigh and with another nod he rises to go do exactly that.

The two of you spend a couple more hours at the shop while you explain each design, over the course of which Shouto manages to ease some of your anxieties and even get you to smile more. Dabi is still there, lingering at the edges of your thoughts the way he always has since first entering your life what feels like an eternity ago now; but at least now the weight on your shoulders doesn’t feel so heavy. You’re not sure if he feels the same way, but Shouto truly has started to become like a friend to you and in an otherwise very lonely time, the companionship is appreciated.

At the end of your meeting Shouto offers to walk you home. You try to assure him you’ll be fine but he cites the bags under your eyes and insists he’d be remiss to let you go anywhere alone when you’re so clearly exhausted, especially after everything you’ve done for him. In the end you relent, leading him in the direction of your old apartment.

Neither of you notice the tall man with black hair, electric blue eyes, and the hood of his jacket pulled up who’s been watching you both since you first arrived at the coffee shop.

And even that man doesn’t notice the young blonde woman with fanged teeth and a murderous glint in her eye that’s been watching you for even longer.

A/N: Holy shit I can't believe we're up to 19 parts. As y'all can probably guess from the ending, shit's about to go down

#hopelessad #dabi x y/n #dabi x fem!reader #bnha dabi #touya x y/n #touya x fem!reader #todoroki touya #bnha touya

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

Text

Ash and Dust Part 8- Domesticity

18+ Dabi x fem!reader

Masterlist Ko-Fi (help Lulu <;3)

You’re so unbelievably nervous as you walk down the street towards the coffee shop you’d agreed to meet Shouto at. You wish you could blame your nerves entirely on the prospect of meeting the former number one hero’s son and your future employer, assuming this meeting goes well, but what really has your anxiety in full gear is the memory of Dabi’s face when he declared you’d be helping him with whatever scheme he’s planning. It’s the closest you’ve ever seen him get to the manic energy he had when he revealed his true identity to his father and the rest of the world. You were never Endeavor’s biggest fan but everything you’ve seen of Todoroki Shoto has made him seem like a genuinely good person. The idea of him getting caught in the crossfire of whatever Dabi is planning is unsettling to say the least, but this is the best job opportunity you’ve ever been offered and you refuse to let Dabi take it away from you. So in spite of the anxiety souring your stomach you continue on your journey until you finally spot the cafe.

You take a deep breath in as you step inside, the smell of coffee washing over you. You’ve never tried this particular place but you can understand why Shouto chose it. It’s a bit of a hole in the wall and surprisingly cozy inside. You had half expected something bougie and upscale, the kind of place where you’d be dropping half your apartment’s rent on one cup of coffee. It does wonders to soothe your nerves knowing that Shouto’s tastes can include the simpler things in life. The man in question is sitting at a table towards the back, staring out the window as he cradles a cup of something in his hands. You decide to go ahead and grab something for yourself before joining him, only heading over once you’ve got your own drink clutched in hand.

“Uh hello?” you ask cautiously, drawing the pro hero’s heterochromatic gaze to you.

“Hello. Can I help you?” he asks without hesitation, his tone just as dry as all the times you’ve heard it in interviews.

“I’m (y/l/n)? The, uh, artist,” you introduce yourself haltingly.

His eyes widen in recognition.

“Ah of course! Have a seat, it’s nice to meet you. Midoriya spoke very highly of your work.”

You notice that there’s a definitive inflection to his voice even if it remains relatively monotone. Still, as you take your seat across from him, setting down the file full of your work on the table, it’s hard to reconcile that the composed man in front of you is closely related to the menace you’ve been housing in your apartment.

“So what should I call you? Is your hero name Shouto alright? Or would you prefer I call you Todoroki?”

“Todoroki is fine.”

“Ok Todoroki, thank you so much for meeting with me,” you begin, flipping open the file, “I’ve brought photos of some of my other works for you to look at to decide if you want to continue with my artwork for your merch line. I have experience with digital art and can show you some of my work there as well and you can decide if you want the merch to be based off of scans of my physical artwork, my digital artwork, or some combination thereof and-”

“You don’t have to sell yourself to me (y/l/n), I’ve already decided to hire you,” Todoroki cuts you off.

You look up from the file in front of you with a shocked look on your face to find him smiling softly.

“For real?”

“Yes. I enjoyed your piece for Midoriya very much and have since seen some of the commissions you did for others. I simply wanted to get to know you a bit before we begin working together and establish some logistics.”

Everything from that point on feels like a dream. You agree to sketch out some ideas and send them his way. You both decide that once he approves a few designs you’ll paint them and then use a special scanner specifically designed for art to convert them into a digital format. A scanner, you might add, that Todoroki is paying for, in addition to a very generous fee he’ll be paying you for services rendered, half up front and the other half after the work is finished. Even just the half you’re getting up front is plenty to mean your savings are safe and rent shouldn’t be an issue for a little bit. By the time you get back to your apartment Todoroki has already tweeted out about you working for him and it’s only drawing more attention to your twitter account. At this rate you’ll probably have to temporarily close commissions to give you time to handle all of the requests! You’re practically beaming as you walk through your door, eyes fixated on your phone screen as you respond to as many requests as possible before explaining to your new following that you’ll resume taking commissions after your work with Pro Hero Shouto is done.

You’re so caught up in the excitement that for a moment you completely forget that there’s usually another person in your apartment with you now. As the realization dawns on you that you haven’t seen Dabi yet, you curiously call out his name, wandering the small space of your apartment, but he’s nowhere to be found. It’s the first time since he’s moved in that you’ve arrived home to find him missing and part of you wonders if his line about using you to get to Shouto had been a bluff to get you to turn down the job. Perhaps, now that you were getting your life together, you were boring to him. You’re almost disappointed by the thought but you shove the feeling away. You’re not about to let Dabi ruin what has been an otherwise perfect day.

Dabi doesn’t show back up until that evening while you’re ordering takeout for dinner, a treat for yourself now that you’re sure you can afford it. You’re just about to tell the person on the other end of the line that that’s it for your order when your phone is suddenly being yanked from your grip. You spin around in surprise to find Dabi smirking at you as he gives his order before hanging up the phone. You’re about to grab it back when it abruptly erupts into blue flame, drawing a horrified noise of protest from your lips as you stare at Dabi in disbelief. Before you can gather your thoughts enough to respond though he’s suddenly dropping something into your lap. “Your old phone was shit, take this one,” he smirks before taking a seat at your kitchen table and kicking his feet up into one of the other chairs. You blink down at the newest model of your old phone in shock, picking it up and turning it over in your hands a few times as if to confirm that it’s real. “You bought me a new phone?” you ask in disbelief. “I didn’t buy shit,” Dabi scoffs. You roll your eyes before amending your sentence.

“You stole me a new phone? I didn’t know you cared so much about me,” you tease.

“Relax Doll, I just need to be able to reach you as I put my plan together,” he chuckles.

“Mhmm, sure whatever you need to tell yourself. But you better hope there’s no issues with our takeout order considering you torched the phone they know to reach me at.”

“I’m sure they’ll figure it out. How’d your interview with my dearest little brother go?”

You practically light up as you explain how he’d hired you on the spot, the large deposit that’ll be arriving in your bank account any minute, and the game plan for how sketching will go. Dabi genuinely listens and while you can tell by the way the gears turn in his head that it’s because he needs to understand your work relationship with Todoroki to determine how to exploit it, it also feels nice to have someone you can tell all about your exciting day. When the food arrives you move the conversation to asking about what he’d been up to and are pleased to find he’s willing to share. Most of the information goes over your head and what he does reveal is vague enough to show you he still doesn’t trust you won’t rat him out but there’s still something fundamentally nice about it all.

When was the last time you had someone to just… talk about your day with?

Your ex never listened to you and your friends had stubborn judgmental streaks that often made telling them about your daily pursuits exhausting and demoralizing. So if you ignored the fact Dabi’s talking about his plan to torture and murder his father, it felt like a normal conversation between friendly roommates. You hadn’t realized you’d been craving something so simple until now that you finally have it and when the two of you retire to your room, still too stubborn to give up sleeping in the bed, it’s hard to ignore how comfortable it all feels.

And so it continues.

Every morning you wake up, make breakfast, and then get to work sketching merch designs or working on commissions. Dabi usually wakes up an hour or two later and watches you work as he eats whatever was leftover from your breakfast before heading out for the day. You almost always end up eating dinner together, trading barbs or giving updates on each other’s days, only to end the night sharing the same bed. Every night you remind yourself that you’re just another pawn in Dabi’s game and every night you can’t help but covet the domesticity of your new routine anyway.

“Don’t tell me you’re slacking off now, need ya to stay in my baby brother’s good graces,” Dabi smirks one day as he arrives home to find you camped out on the couch with the tv on.

“Relax, I’ve got the night off. Finished up the last of my designs for his merch line and I’m just awaiting approval before I can start painting,” you explain, flicking through channels aimlessly.

As you stumble upon a news channel you notice a photo of Endeavor displayed prominently next to the words breaking news and curiosity has you hesitating to go to the next channel.

“This just in. Todoroki Enji, better known as the retired hero Endeavor, was found dead in his home this morning of apparent complications from a previous injury. Not much is known yet pending the coroner’s report, but authorities say they have no reason to suspect foul play,” the reporter on screen explains.

“Guess karma did your job for you, huh?” you joke but the man standing behind you says nothing.

“Dabi?” you ask, turning around only to find no one there.

The only response you get is the door slamming and a faint burning smell.

A/N: Ahhhh this fic has been so much exposition but FINALLY we’re starting to get into the meat of this. I know this isn’t my most popular series and I’m slow as fuck to update it but for those of you who are sticking with it, thank you so much 🥺❤️ I appreciate y’all to the moon and back

Taglist: @thechroniclesofawriter @simpsfortodoroki @ahtsuwu @oliviasslut @larkspyrr @oikawaandkuroostan @tina-98 @vibesdontlie @clubfairy @oddball215

#hopelessad #dabi x y/n #dabi x fem!reader #bnha dabi #dabi #touya x y/n #touya x fem!reader #todoroki touya #bnha touya

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hopelesshawks · 2 years

Text

Ash and Dust Part 21- Toga

18+ Dabi x fem!reader (MINORS DNI)

Warnings: Graphic description of major character injury, blood, canon typical violence

Link to change y/n to your actual name (not mobile compatible)

Masterlist Kofi (Help Lulu)

If someone had told Dabi a year ago that he’d be sneaking into the youngest Todoroki’s apartment in order to work alongside the brat, he would’ve laughed in their face and then reduced them to ashes.

Now?

It’s the price he pays for being so careless with you.

It’s already been three days since he drove back from the beach to try and get you and he’s got fuck all to show for it. His old contacts claimed not to have heard anything about it from the grapevine, Spinner was entirely useless, and even his goody-goody baby brother had been coming up short. And each second longer you spend with psycho barbie the more likely it is that the you he gets back won’t really be you anymore. Toga will do her damndest to break you, of that he’s sure, and every time he recalls that fact it has bile crawling up his throat.

Because it is completely, unavoidably, and unequivocally his fault.

It’s his fault Toga had her eyes set on you.

It’s his fault she knew where your apartment is.

It’s his fault you hadn’t been staying in a different, safer apartment instead.

And it’s his fault that you were alone with no one to protect you from her.

“You look like shit,” Shouto says the minute Dabi gets inside.

“Fuck off,” Dabi growls back.

“Your roots are coming in and it looks dumb. It shouldn’t be possible for you to have bags under your eyes considering you burnt them to shit and yet there they are,” his little brother continues.

“I’ve been a little busy asshole. Watch it before I roast you alive.”

“You’re not going to do shit. You need my help because I’m the one with access to official channels.”

Dabi scowls. Shouto isn’t wrong. Dabi’s own contacts had been useless and while they probably had heard more than they were willing to admit, none of them had enough loyalty to Dabi to get involved in a conflict between him and Toga. He’d normally make them pay for not choosing sides but keeping a low profile is even more important than ever now. So Shouto’s contacts and capabilities by virtue of being a well-regarded pro hero were an essential part of the investigation.

“Speaking of, I think I might’ve found her,” Shouto adds.

In a second Dabi is in his little brother’s face, a hand fisted in his shirt.

“Why wouldn’t you start with that,” he growls.

“Because I knew you’d rush off if I did. If you want to get her out safely we need to be smart about this,” Shouto explains.

“You’re wasting time.”

“You’re not the only one who cares about her, Touya.”

The words make Dabi stop short, his grip on Shouto’s shirt loosening.

“I don’t know what you two were to each other but I consider her a friend. So pull it together so we can go save her. Alright?”

“Fine…”

The address Shouto had narrowed things down to turns out to be an abandoned apartment complex on the outskirts of the city. Dabi has been in the area before so he knows the layout decently well. There’s no easy way in other than through the front door and without knowing exactly where inside you are, it’ll be difficult to flush out Toga without potentially hurting you. Basically it’s an uphill battle and Toga’s quirk would only make it harder.

Still though, Dabi is determined and he can tell Shouto is too. It’s a mild reassurance even if he isn’t ecstatic about the idea of fighting alongside his brother.

“Split up and cover each apartment?” Shouto asks.

“I’ll start at the top, you start at the bottom. Signal if you find that psycho bitch.”

The inside of the building is dark and dank, the scent of mold permeating throughout. The concrete walls and floors do a piss poor job of insulating the building so if anything it almost feels colder inside than out. Dabi had rocketed himself up to the top floor and swung in through one of the windows, fully anticipating having to break glass to do so but instead had found most of the windows blown out already. It’s a miserable place and he’s eager to find you and get the fuck out. He moves quickly through each apartment, breaking down the door when necessary, all in his quest to find you. He clears the top floor and then makes his way down further into the building, moving systematically through. As he descends to the fourth floor he hears a faint sobbing, following the sound to one of the rooms. He tips inside only to find you collapsed over on the floor, bawling your eyes out. He steps inside and your head snaps up to look at him. “D-Dabi?” you stutter in disbelief as you train your watery eyes on him. More tears cascade down your cheeks as you extend your arms to him. “You came for me?” you ask, voice warbling.

“Cut the shit Toga,” Dabi growls.

Toga huffs, sitting back on her palms and brusquely wiping the tears from her face. “Well you’re no fun. How’d you know it was me?”

“You’re a shit actor.”

“I’m surprised you even care enough to tell the difference when you ghosted her. The poor thing hasn’t been sleeping well or taking care of herself since ya left y’know. Although it did make my job that much easier so thanks for that.”

Slowly your form melts away as Toga transforms back to her own appearance.

“Where is she?” he demands.

“She’s resting right now. We’ve been having such a fun time on our little sleepover that she’s quite exhausted.”

Touya doesn’t make the conscious choice to activate his quirk but finds his arms blazing with bright blue flames all the same. He dimly registers that it hurts at the fringes of his already burned skin but it’s a small penance for whatever you’ve suffered because of him.

“You know you don’t stand a chance of winning this fight,” he scowls, “so come off it and tell me where the fuck she is.”

“I don’t need to win the fight, silly. I’m just making sure by the time you get to her you’re too late.”

Touya lunges, tackling Toga to the ground and letting his flames roar even higher. She uses his momentum against him so the two tumble a bit, not that it stops him from allowing his flames to consume them both. He feels her skin shifting beneath his palms as they roll and he doesn’t pay much mind to it until suddenly he’s got her pinned but it’s your face looking up at him. “You’re not her,” he growls. “Please, it hurts, it hurts!” she cries out, skin burning as his rage and frustration and anger and pain turn his flames from blue to violet and he knows she’s not you but she sounds like you and looks like you and he’s so fucking pathetic because even though he knows he just can’t do it.

“FUCK!” he shouts in frustration, his flames abruptly localizing to his fist as he slams it into the concrete next to Toga’s head, blood dripping from the scars beneath his eyes and head hanging in defeat.

Toga’s cackle sounds especially cruel and ugly in your voice as she delights in his turmoil. She knew she could never beat him in a fight, she was fucking counting on it.

“You can’t hide behind her face forever.”

“I’ve had her for a long time. I can hide behind her face for longer than she has left.”

Suddenly the room is iced over, freezing both Toga and Touya in place.

“Set yourself free and find her. I cleared the rest of the building, she must be nearby,” Shouto commands, rushing into the room.

Ordinarily the command would’ve made Touya bristle but as is he says nothing, using his flames to melt the ice and escape. Toga tries to lunge out at him but a blast of fire from his little brother has her reeling back instead. Touya takes advantage of the opening to race deeper into the apartment, checking each room meticulously for any and all signs of you. When he finally finds you he can’t even bring himself to be relieved yet.

Touya finds you handcuffed to a pipe in one of the rooms, clad in only your bra and panties, slumped over. The floor and wall around you are both heavily smeared with your blood and even from across the room he can see several deep gashes in your skin that are still bleeding lazily.

He crosses the room in only a few steps, collapsing to his knees in front of you as he grasps your face in both his hands and lifts your head to face him. You’re unconscious but now that he’s this close he can tell you’re breathing at least, even if it’s worryingly shallow. He releases your face in favor of grasping hold of the chain on your handcuffs instead. Melting the chain is trivial, especially considering how keyed up he is, but without them you slump forward even further and he has to catch you. To his surprise you stir, suddenly shifting in his arms. For a moment you flinch, shifting yourself violently backwards and he has to reach forward to stop you from getting too far.

“Hey! Hey, it’s just me doll,” he assures and you blink at him slowly. Too slowly.

“Touya?”

“Yea it’s me. I’m gonna get you outta here but first I need to patch up some of those cuts alright?”

You scoff and it cracks him open in ways he didn’t think possible.

“Thought y’ used up all his blood,” you mumble.

“No it’s not- we don’t have time for this. I’m gonna seal the wounds now ok? It’s gonna hurt,” he warns.

“Y’ can’t mimic quirks Toga, ‘m not dumb.”

As much as he hates hurting you, he realizes that you’re both wasting valuable time now so he ignites two of his fingers and presses them to the deepest appearing of the gashes. You flinch at the pain, unable to muster up any more of a reaction from your bruised and battered body as he slowly cauterizes the gash. He repeats the process for all of your more serious wounds and by the time he finishes you’re trembling slightly in his hold. Despite how weak your body is, your arms come up to wrap around his shoulders and suddenly you’re gripping him with what little strength is left in you.

“Yer the real one?” you ask hesitantly, and for the first time you lift your head enough for your eyes to meet his, silent tears of relief starting to slip down your cheeks.

“Yea baby, I’m the real one,” he assures.

He’s never unironically used a pet name like that before but somehow it rolls off his tongue so easily for you as he brushes the tears away from your cheeks.

“You’ve been crying,” you note, reaching forward to brush the blood staining his cheeks away.

His gut instinct is to correct you. He can’t cry; he burned his tear ducts out to make sure he never could again. But considering the blood on his face he supposes it’s a technicality at this point, so instead he just pulls you closer to him, lifting you into a princess carry as he rises. “We’ve gotta get you out of here,” he mumbles instead of replying before making his way out of the apartment.

There’s no sounds of fighting so he moves back into the room he’d first found Toga in. Sure enough she and Shouto are nowhere to be found. He doesn’t have time to worry about them though, he knows his brother can handle her just fine. Instead he moves as quickly as he can down the stairs and eventually out the door. He finds a car to boost and hurries to settle you into the back seat so he can lay you down. Just as he’s got you fastened in with his jacket draped over you as a makeshift blanket, Shouto jogs up to him looking contrite.

“You lost Toga?” Touya guesses.

“She bailed out the window the minute you left. Chased her as long as I could but the minute we got to an area with more people-”

“She phased into someone else and you couldn’t keep track of her.”

Shouto nods grimly. He prepares himself for Touya to get angry or lash out but it doesn’t happen. Instead Touya just wordlessly opens the passenger side door before moving to the driver’s side to hotwire it. They both climb in and soon they’re on the road, more than ready to put the apartment complex in the rearview mirror.

“Not gonna say anything about me stealing a car Mr. Pro Hero?” Touya finally asks after they’ve been driving for a while.

“If it gets reported I’ll tell them I accidentally destroyed it trying to get Toga and cover the cost of replacement,” Shouto shrugs, “it was more important to get her out of there.”

“Toga will be back.”

“I know, I’m assuming that’s why you aren’t driving to the hospital right now.”

“Smarter than you look.”

“Drop me at my apartment. I’ll pick up Natsuo in my car and meet you at the beach house.”

Dabi shoots him an incredulous look before redirecting his eyes to the road.

“This isn’t a fucking family reunion.”

“She needs actual medical attention and Natsuo is an actual medical professional. Like it or not you need him to make sure she survives the night.”

Touya’s hands clench hard onto the steering wheel. He’s tempted to ignore Shouto. You’re not bleeding anymore, so you’ll be fine eventually. At this point your body just needs time to recover.

Right?

His eyes drift to the rearview mirror so he can see you. You’ve got a death grip on his jacket and your eyebrows are furrowed as if even the simple act of breathing is painful. If he’s being honest with himself it probably is. Sure he’d stopped the bleeding but what if one of your wounds is infected? What if he missed something?

His eyes focus forward again. He’s going to have to make a decision soon. He has zero interest in seeing anymore of his family. Shouto had already only gotten involved because it had been a necessary evil. But he also can’t fix this alone.

So Touya does something he hasn’t done in a very long time, if ever.

He puts someone else over himself.

A/N: This chapter was a bitch and a half to write but I'm v happy with how it turned out

#hopelessad #dabi x y/n #dabi x fem!reader #dabi x reader #touya x fem!reader #touya x y/n #touya x reader #touya todoroki #bnha touya

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hopelesshawks · 2 years

Text

Ash and Dust Part 20- Guilty

18+ Dabi x fem!reader (MINORS DNI)

Link to change y/n to your actual name (not mobile compatible)

Masterlist Kofi (Help Lulu)

The water is peaceful but Dabi’s mind still rages.

His mind hasn’t been quiet for a single second since he left you alone on that concrete floor. He woke up the next morning to you sleeping so peacefully and it terrified him, terrified him to his fucking core.

“I love you, Touya.”

The words had echoed in his head and brought bile rising up his throat. He hadn’t necessarily consciously chosen to leave you. It’s not even like it was the first time he had woken up to find you in his arms but that was before.

Before you chose him and a mattress on the floor over your cushy new apartment on the nicer side of town.

Before you let him burn everything, all of your hard work, even you just so you could make sure he was ok.

Before he told you to call him Touya and you told him you loved him.

So no Dabi does not make the conscious choice to leave you but he finds himself gone all the same.

He’s not sure what possessed him to go to the old Todoroki family beach house either. He just started walking once he left you and that turned into “borrowing” a car until he suddenly found himself parked in a driveway he hadn’t seen since he was a stupid kid. It was immediately obvious when he arrived that the place hadn’t been touched in years. Leave it to his douchebag father to keep a property he was no longer using just for shits and giggles. It had been child’s play picking the lock to the front door and there was no additional security because who would dare try to break into The Endeavor’s house.

Which is how he finds himself here, staring up at the ocean’s surface, not quite floating, not quite sinking, wishing it could clear his head as well as you used to.

Trying to go back for you had been a mistake.

Sure he shouldn’t have ignored your calls, shouldn’t have pretended not to listen to your increasingly desperate voicemails, shouldn’t have vanished without a word or any indication at all of whether or not he’d come back. But none of that justified you moving on with Todoroki fucking Shouto within a week and none of that made seeing it with his own eyes hurt any less.

How quickly you had replaced him for the perfect child once he proved defective. Watching you and Shouto talking and laughing at the stupid, pedestrian fucking coffee shop had made his stomach turn and his blood boil. He’d been tempted to burn the entire place down but instead had turned around, stolen another car, and driven back to this wretched place far, far away from you and your perfect replacement for him.

It’s his lungs that drive him up to the surface, head breaking out into the cold air as he greedily sucks in a breath. The sun had set since he’d first come outside so the stars are bright overhead when he emerges from the water. His phone is lying on the beach, although he’s not entirely sure why he’s bothered to keep it around.

It’s a lie. He knows he keeps it around in hopes that you’ll call.

He scoops his stolen towel off the beach, drying himself off one-handedly while he collects his phone and clothes with the other, heading back to the house. The place is dusty and silent, almost eerie in its abandonment, which is why the sound of his generic ringtone echoing through the halls is so jarring. He rolls his eyes hard, he’d been messaging old contacts about potential jobs back when he was living with you but now their responses are just a nuisance, except when he gets to his phone it’s not an old contact calling at all.

Your name glares up at him from his phone screen and his breath catches in his throat. It’s your first time calling him since the day he left almost two weeks ago now. He stares at the screen for a while, watching it ring and wondering if he should just let it go to voicemail. You’ve moved on with Shouto so why should he bother? You’ve got the best Todoroki child in your bed now, what the fuck do you need him for?

He answers the call.

It’s not your voice that comes down the line though and immediately he regrets his choice.

“Touya.”

“Shouto. Calling to tell me about you and (y/n)’s wedding?”

“No, this is serious have you-”

“Ah of course not, you’re the type to take it slow aren’t ya. Have you gotten to holding her hand yet?”

“Are you done? Because the fact you answered this call leads me to believe you may care about the fact that she’s missing right now.”

The next retort Dabi had planned dies on his tongue.

“What do you mean missing?” he asks, his voice going deadly serious.

“I mean she didn’t show up for the work meeting we had planned for today and wasn’t answering her phone so I came to her apartment to check on her because she’s been struggling lately. Probably since you left her,” Shouto explains, his own tone harsh as his patience wears thin.

“She’s probably just at her stupid studio.”

“Then why did I find her door broken down and her phone in the middle of the floor here?”

“No one just waltzed into that stupid, fancy building and broke the door down without anyone noticing.”

“I know our definitions of fancy may be different but I would hardly consider a mattress on the floor fancy.”

Another revelation. You must still be staying at your old apartment, even now that he’s gone. Shouto starts to say something else but Dabi doesn’t hear it. Guilt is a new feeling for him but he recognizes it all the same as it crawls up his throat now.

“I think I know who took her,” he admits, cutting his youngest brother off.

Of course he knows who took you.

He gave her the fucking address.

A/N: On the shorter side but important all the same. Dabi finally starts having to face the consequences of his actions

#hopelessad #bnha dabi #dabi x y/n #dabi x fem!reader #touya x fem!reader #touya x y/n #bnha touya #touya todoroki

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hopelesshawks · 2 years

Text

Am I....

Am I about to write subby Dabi?

#this is it guys I've officially grown to powerful #jerky boy just needs to be taken care of sometimes #really happy with how this last /major/ part of ash and dust is coming out #its very emotional but i think still stays true to his character and how he would've changed throughout the series #idk it just feels like a good culmination of what the series has been #as a second to last part should #hawks talks #hopelessad

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

Text

Ash and Dust Part 1- Lost

18+ Dabi x fem!reader (MINORS DNI)

Warnings for cheating mention and alcohol use

Masterlist Help Lulu <3

“C’mon babe come back!”

“Fuck you!”

You scrub at your eyes again to try to stop the tears from falling. Your makeup is probably smudged to hell and your heart feels fragmented in your chest. You’re not thinking about eventually getting home, all you want is to get away from your scummy boyfriend. Well… Ex-boyfriend now. “You’re gonna get lost, let’s talk about this,” he sighs behind you and for some reason the notion that you can just talk this out is particularly infuriating. “Talk about what! You were just balls deep in some other woman!” you exclaim whirling to face him. He at least has the good grace to look sheepish.

“It was an accident,” he says lamely.

“Oh you accidentally tripped and fell into her pussy?” you ask sardonically.

“Yes?”

“Oh my fucking god.”

“You shouldn’t be wandering around this late when you’re not familiar with this part of town.”“And you shouldn’t have slept with another woman but here we are!”

“Whatever, fuck you. Just don’t call me sobbing when you end up lost!”

“Fine!”

Your shitty ex’s footsteps and grumbling grow distant as he turns back and you continue storming off until your head is clear. By the time you finally look up and take stock of your surroundings you are, indeed, lost. You sigh heavily, dropping your head into your hands with a groan. The streets are all unfamiliar, the neighborhood undoubtedly shitty, and your phone hasn’t worked properly in months so using that for GPS is out of the question. You figure getting a little more lost can’t hurt and begin wandering in hopes of finding somewhere to get your bearings. You finally spot a little rundown bar with a familiar sounding name, although you can’t quite place from where. You could use a drink anyway so you walk inside.

“Please tell me you pour heavy on your drinks,” you sigh as you push your way in, only to stop short when the three occupants turn to look at you. You recognize them from the news and your blood goes cold as you realize why the bar name was so familiar. It was the very place where the infamous League of Villains held their meetings before the majority of them were either killed or captured about three years prior; which made the young woman standing in front of you Toga, the man casually sitting at the bar that she was angrily staring down before your intrusion Dabi, and the stressed looking lizard behind the bar Spinner.

“Do you mind? We’re in the middle of something,” Toga huffs.

You open your mouth to answer, a little bit shocked and a lot bit terrified but instead of the apology or possible groveling for your life you expected to come out, something else entirely does:

“You guys still fucking hang out here?”

Wow those are going to be shitty last words.

Toga looks ready to murder you, something you’re all too aware she is very capable of and willing to do, but then, to add more weirdness to an already very disorienting night, Dabi starts laughing. Her hateful gaze slips back to him. “You think this is funny?” she demands and his smile doesn’t falter for even a moment despite the venom in her eyes and tone. “It’s fucking hilarious,” he grins, charred skin stretching into an even wider smirk. “Fuck you, we’re not finished here,” she spits but Dabi is unfazed. “Tsk, tsk did Twice not teach you manners? We have a guest.” Toga is eerily composed, quiet storm brewing just beneath the surface as she marches up to Dabi, her eyes boring into his. “I’m gonna make you fucking regret getting him killed,” she growls. “I’d love to see you try Princess. Run along now,” Dabi challenges. Toga snarls one last time before storming out past you to leave the bar.

You sigh out in relief, releasing the breath you’d been holding since you opened your big, dumb mouth. You’re just about to make an excuse to get the fuck out of there when Dabi speaks up instead. “Sit down, have a drink,” he smirks. “I should really get going,” you hedge. “I don’t recall that being an offer Doll. Sit down. Have a drink.” The way he says it sounds like a threat, making a chill run through you even as you move to comply. You settle into the seat next to him apprehensively, adrenaline pumping through your bloodstream as you prepare mentally for whatever it is Dabi has planned for you but all he does is ask Spinner for a couple of whiskey neats.

And then another round…

And another round…

And hey did he stop drinking? It doesn’t really matter because he’s asking you what brought you to the bar and he’s so much nicer than you thought he’d be. The world is spinning and you should go home, Spinner says as much too but Dabi waves him off and you find yourself slurring “Fuck off Lizard man, need this” which is enough to make Dabi grin and Spinner give up on you, deciding to leave the bar. Dabi’s got a creepy grin but it’s growing on you, especially as he pours you another shot and repeats his question.

That’s the last moment you remember from the night.

A/N: I was going to wait until I had part 2 finished to post this but I got impatient. Welcome to my new series! Unlike most of my previous fics this won’t be a smau, which also means writing new parts will take longer, especially since I’m trying to write more one shots and requests. BUT I’m aiming to post a new part at least once a week so lmk if you want to be added to the taglist. I really hope you guys enjoy this series ❤️

Taglist: @thechroniclesofawriter @simpsfortodoroki @ahtsuwu @oliviasslut @larkspyrr @oikawaandkuroostan

#hopelessad #dabi #dabi x fem!reader #dabi x y/n

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

Text

Ash and Dust Part 15- New Intimacies

18+ Dabi x fem!reader (MINORS DNI)

Warning: Mention of Dabi having a Glasgow smile. It's not graphically described but it is mentioned that Dabi sticks his tongue through it.

Link to change y/n to your actual name (not mobile compatible)

Masterlist Kofi (Help Lulu)

Dabi wakes up alone on the floor of your old bedroom and isn’t sure why he’s surprised.

His head is throbbing, his mouth tastes like bile, and he’s not sure at this point what would be more mortifying: for his memories of you from last night to have just been a figment of his imagination or for it to be real. The idea of crafting such a vivid fantasy of you feels completely and utterly pathetic, but actively seeking out your comfort can only be fractionally better. Especially since, if you did come, you’ve apparently abandoned him again already. But then he hears the door open and close and he’ll never admit the amount of relief that the sound fills him with.

You stride into the room with one takeout and one convenience store bag in hand, stopping short when you notice he’s sitting up. “Oh, you’re awake already,” you note, blinking as you come to sit down next to him. You drop the bags down next to you, rummaging around in the convenience store one until you extract ibuprofen and a gatorade, passing it over. He doesn’t thank you, but he does silently accept the offer, popping a couple painkillers and chugging down the gatorade eagerly. You withdraw the greasy takeout food next, handing it to him the moment he’s finished the gatorade before pulling out your own. The silence is comfortable as the two of you eat and as Dabi scarfs down the food you can’t help but notice that some of the staples around his mouth don’t look quite right.

Your hand moves of its own accord before your brain can catch up. You gently grasp hold of his chin, turning it slightly so you can take a closer look. You catch yourself then, your entire body going rigid as you realize what you’ve done, but to your surprise he doesn’t protest. Instead he just quirks an eyebrow at your hesitation.

“There something you’re dyin’ to see Doll or are you just grabbin’ me for fun now?” he questions although he doesn’t move out of your hold.

“Your, uh, your staples,” you stammer before clearing your throat.

“What about them?” Dabi prompts, voice somehow both detached and oddly encouraging, as if he’s giving you permission to handle him.

“Not all of them are fully attached anymore, I think you tore them when you were puking last night,” you admit, nerves leaving you the longer Dabi doesn’t seem to mind your touch.

You gently skate your hands along the staples in question as Dabi hums in acknowledgment.

“I’ll just grab some more after you go back to your stupid new apartment,” he shrugs, finally removing your hand from his face and definitively looking not at you.

It’s an attempt at casualness; one that would have fooled you when you first met him. After everything that had happened last night though you know better. Dabi had asked you—pleaded with you—to stay. So stay you will.

“I’m not going back. Well, not permanently at least. I think we should go back to steal my mattress and bring it over here. Sleeping on the floor kinda sucks. Also I’m gonna need to grab my clothes,” you reply, tone bearing the same faux casualness as Dabi’s had. The only indication of his surprise is the speed at which his blue eyes cut over to you. He recovers quickly but it’s too late. This morning’s Dabi may not be as open about wanting you around, but with each passing moment you grow more and more confident that his drunk words were sober thoughts.

“Bold of you to assume I’m gonna help you with jack shit. You’re the idiot that decided to move out.”

“And you’re the idiot who’s been sleeping on a concrete floor.”

“Touche.”

“I know. Oh, and you’re going to keep me company at my studio from now on.”

“You’re doling out a lot of orders, Doll.”

“Maybe so, but you like it when I’m feisty.”

“I do.”

Over the next few days you and Dabi slowly come back together. In spite of his token complaints and snark he does end up helping you move your nice mattress from your new apartment back to the old one and the two of you sleep better for it. You wake up wrapped in his arms more mornings than not and while neither of you ever comment on it, neither of you complains either. There’s a newfound intimacy to your relationship that wasn’t there before. One you can tell isn’t in your head by the way Dabi accepts your offer when you ask him to join you in your studio while you’re working. He rarely takes an interest in the art pieces themselves, if anything he scowls at the canvas whenever you work on a piece more explicitly about Shouto, but he watches you while you work. The way he stares makes you feel like a puzzle he’s still struggling to solve; like he has all of the pieces but he can’t quite make them line up the way they should. It should be uncomfortable but it’s not, and the longer things continue the more settled you feel in whatever sort of relationship you and Dabi have now.

“So when are you going to finally get new staples so your face doesn’t look so fucked?” you ask one day as you start sketching out the last design for Shouto’s merch line.

“My face is always gonna look fucked Doll, don’t be rude,” Dabi snarks back.

“Ok then so your face stops looking more fucked than usual,” you quickly quip back.

Your eyes don’t leave the canvas you’re working on but you can hear Dabi’s snort of amusement and immediately picture the half smile that’s probably gracing his face as he responds.

“I got the stupid staples already, just don’t feel like dealing with them yet. They’re a bitch to do properly.”

You pause in your work to look at him. You’re not surprised to find his piercing blue gaze on you but it still makes your breath catch in your throat anyways. It’s just a moment but you know he catches it by the amusement that dances across his irises. You immediately roll your eyes hard, which of course only makes him even more amused, before returning your gaze to your work.

“You should’ve asked, idiot. I’ll help you put them in.”

“And who says I trust you to put them in?”

“I do. Am I wrong?”

He doesn’t reply. You didn’t expect him to. Because when you look up from the canvas at him he’s smiling just slightly to himself while he occupies himself with his phone. His mood hasn’t soured in the slightest and if your instinct had been incorrect you know he wouldn’t have hesitated to put you in your place on the matter. When another few seconds pass and he still hasn’t protested, you nod to yourself and resume working.

“So it’s settled, when we go home I’ll fix your staples,” you declare and if Dabi’s smile gets a little bit bigger in response, neither of you will ever tell.

It’s a weird but intimate process. You handle Dabi like he’s precious and, perhaps even more wildly, he lets you. You carefully remove the loose staples around his mouth and he expects you to recoil at the way his skin splits. Instead you make a joke about his Glasgow smile, comparing him to Venom as he snakes his tongue out the sides to lick your hand. You jerk your hand away and whine about cooties with a smile that’s brighter than anything in Dabi’s life has been for a very, very long time. It ignites something inside him but for once it doesn’t feel destructive. Instead, when he summons flame to his hands so you can sanitize the new staples, the blue fire dances between his fingers as if it shares his good mood. When the last staple has been put in its rightful place, he barely hesitates to grasp hold of you and pull you down onto the mattress you now share on the floor. Your chuckles bounce off the bare walls even as he tells you to “shut the fuck up and go to bed already,” as he feigns exhaustion.

He pretends it’s all to annoy you; even manages to convince himself it’s true.

But deep down a hidden part of himself knows he sleeps better when he holds you close.

A/N: I finished this instead of studying for my exam tomorrow oops

#peak #I know I should probably wait to post this until a time or sth but whatever I'll just reblog it at normal times tomorrow lmao #hopelessad #dabi x fem!reader #dabi x y/n #bnha dabi #touya x y/n #touya x fem!reader #bnha touya #touya todoroki

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

Text

Ash and Dust Part 13- Some Bitch

18+ Dabi x fem!reader (MINORS DNI)

Warnings: Dom/sub dynamics, dacryphilia (crying kink), degradation, oral (m!receiving), cumplay/cumshot, alcohol related dubcon (not with reader), heavy petting (f!receiving), praise-ish? it's very brief, one (1) use of the word daddy, heavy alcohol use

Link to change y/n to your actual name (not mobile compatible)

Masterlist Kofi (Help Lulu)

“I’m sorry Dabi, I’m so sorry,” you sob, tears racing down your face.

“Sorry for what?” Dabi all but growls, towering over you as you grovel on your knees for his forgiveness.

“Sorry for neglecting you for Shouto. Sorry for painting your useless father. I’m sorry for everything. They don’t matter to me, only you!”

He reaches down to grasp hold of your chin, yanking it up so he can look into your pitiful eyes, red and puffy from sobbing. “I don’t know if I believe you,” he says icily, sick pleasure burning in him as the response makes you sob harder. “Please, I’m telling the truth, you have to believe me. I’m so sorry.”

“Prove it.”

“Huh?”

“I said prove it. Unless you don’t really mean it.”

“I do! I do, please, I’ll do anything for you.”

He smirks as his grip on your chin tightens a fraction while his free hand moves to the zipper of his jeans. He draws it down slowly, gaze never breaking from yours even as he pulls his straining erection out. “Show me that pathetic little mouth of yours is good for something other than whimpering and begging,” he commands, his hand moving from your chin to the back of your head as you nod eagerly. You obediently wrap your lips around him, tongue dipping into his slit and swirling around the head of his dick before you sink down further. A shiver runs down his spin as you begin to suck him off in earnest, head bobbing up and down as you moan around his dick like it’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted. The tight, wet heat of your mouth is intoxicating and it’s hard to resist moaning and letting his eyes roll back in his head. He doesn’t want to give you the satisfaction of knowing how good you’re making him feel though. At least not yet.

“That the best you’ve got? I’m falling asleep up here Doll,” he goads and the look you give him is so sad. It’s exhilarating seeing you so genuinely upset that you're disappointing him that it causes a fresh wave of tears to spill from your eyes even as you double your efforts, determined to show just how sorry you truly are. One of your hands suddenly comes up to tug his jeans and boxers further down until they’re past his thighs. That same hand then moves to his balls, rolling them as your cheeks hollow around his sex. He can’t hold back his moans then, pushing your head down to take more of him. Your throat spasms around his dick but you don’t complain or try to squirm away for even a moment, letting him abuse your throat to his heart’s content. He feels himself nearing his climax so he roughly pulls you back just as he finds release, painting your tear-stained face white with his cum.

“I should’ve known you’d be a cum slut,” he smirks as he brings one hand to your cheek to further smear his cum across your face.

“Just for you,” you rasp, voice still raw from the abuse.

“Good. You’re mine.”

“I’m all yours, Touya.”

Dabi snaps awake, bolting up right from the blankets he’d settled on the ground with his heart racing and his dick still twitching as cum cools in his boxers. He curses as he stands and heads to the en suite bathroom. He’s stripped bare and stepping into the still cold shower in seconds.

A dream. It was all just a dream…

For some reason he can hear Toga’s voice, the version of her from before Twice’s death, asking him if he y’know likes anyone and all it does is make him scowl harder.

Clearly it’s been way too long since he got his dick wet. He cranks the dial of the shower the other way until the water is scalding hot, focusing on the way it burns what little unscarred skin remains on his body. He doesn’t need you. He doesn’t want you. The only reason his fucked up brain conjured up your image is because you’re the last naked person he’s seen, his mind flashing back to that moment in your stupid bougie new apartment when you’d started to get in the shower before realizing he was there. He growls again when he feels his dick twitch at the memory.

His body is confused. That’s all this is.

He quickly exits the shower and gets dressed, giving himself no time to think before he walks out of the door for the first time since he broke into your old apartment a week ago. He needs a drink and a hole to stick his dick into and then you’ll be out of his head for good. So he lets his feet carry him to the seediest parts of downtown, the moon high in the sky as the streets themselves seem to thrum with bass from the bars and clubs in the area. He’s got his hoodie up but no one cares who anyone is around here. He ducks into a familiar hole-in-the-wall club, pushing his way past the bodies packed in until he reaches the bar. When the bartender spots him, they immediately roll their eyes but reach for a glass for him anyway, already knowing what to pour.

“Aww, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you weren’t happy to see me Izumi,” Dabi grins.

“And here I thought I’d never have to see your beef jerky lookin’ ass again. Thought you’d ditched me,” Izumi chuckles. There’s no heat to their words as they pass him a large pint of beer, dropping a shot of sake into it. “I’ve been busy,” Dabi smirks before quickly chugging down his drink. He raps his knuckle against the bar to indicate he wants another and Izumi doesn’t hesitate to comply. “Of course Mr. Big Shot League of Legends was too busy,” they tease. Dabi doesn’t bother to correct them on the name.

“You make it sound like I don’t care about my good childhood friend Izu-chan.”

“Fuck off, we’re not childhood friends, we’re childhood acquaintances.”

“You wound me Zu-zu, really. I consider you my best friend.”

“Nah, nah, nah ‘cause friends care about each other and you, Dabi, don’t care about anyone. It’s cool dude, I’ve always known that was the deal with you.”

A few months ago Dabi would’ve agreed without hesitation, but for some reason he can hear your laugh in the back of his head and it makes him scowl slightly before chugging his drink down again.

“Woah there, you good?” Izumi asks, brow raising.

“Obviously. Why the fuck wouldn’t I be?” Dabi scoffs but Izumi isn’t fooled.

“Look dude, I remember when we were just a couple of lost kids doing stupid shit on the streets to get by. Against my better judgment I care about your stupid ass and I know you well enough to know that what I said should not have warranted that reaction. So you gonna explain or what?”

“It’s nothing, just some bitch I’ve been living with. You gonna give me another drink or not?”

Izumi whistles lowly, the sound barely audible over the sounds of the club as he reaches for a shot glass and a harder liquor. He pours a very generous shot and starts to hand it over but jerks it out of Dabi’s reach at the last second, causing the other man to roll his eyes again.

“You’ve been living with someone? And you care about her?” they ask.

“I’ve been living with her but I don’t give a shit about her I was just bored. She was easy entertainment,” he shrugs.

Izumi gives him the shot but when he asks for another, they once again pull the shot out of his reach.

“Ah, ah. One shot per answer. If you were so bored, why'd you leave now?”

Dabi’s starting to feel the buzz of the alcohol but it’s not enough. He can still feel you dug into his skin like a tick so as much as he would like to tell Izumi to fuck off he needs that next shot and no one else is gonna give him shit for free.

“She was interesting when she was a fucking mess but then she started getting fucking paid and moved us to some stupid, shitty fucking place instead and was spending all her time working and shit. So I moved on. We done here?”

Izumi gives him a considering look but does relinquish the shot. They watch Dabi knock that one back and pour just one more.

“One last question,” Izumi cautions.

“What?” Dabi asks, patience wearing notably thin.

“Where are you staying? You some place safe right now?”

“Yea, yea, I’m squatting in an apartment, I can take care of myself,” Dabi gruffs.

The last shot hits hard and the world starts to swirl around him. He can see Izumi’s concerned look out of the corner of his eye but before they can ask any more questions Dabi shoves away from the bar. “Always a pleasure Zu-zu,” he throws over his shoulder, words slurring just slightly, before disappearing into the crowd of people where he knows Izumi won’t be able to follow.

His eyes scan through the crowd for a pretty face, trying to find someone to shake off the dream that he refuses to admit is still burning at the back of his eyelids when he blinks. He moves throughout the crowd, not really dancing but allowing himself to be swept through the tides of people. Then suddenly out of the corner of his eye he catches a glimpse of (y/h/c) hair. He spins wildly in that direction just as it fades from view and immediately starts shouldering his way through the crowd after it. When he catches sight of it again he’s sure it’s you. Even under the strobing club lights he can tell it’s the right hair color, right skin tone, right height. It must be you and the alcohol sends him surging forward to grasp your arm. He spins you around but then his eyes meet yours and it’s wrong, so wrong, because that’s not the right color of your eyes. Close but not quite. As he takes in more details of the face he realizes the facial structure is all wrong and that definitely isn’t you which makes sense because why the fuck would you be in a shitty little club like this anyway and he’s about to just fade back into the crowd when it hits him.

This girl is not you.

Which means she’s exactly what he needs right now.

He twists his face into a seductive smirk as he invites Not You to dance and he tells himself she’s perfect because she’s hot and not because she kind of looks like you but a small, tiny part of him that he stubbornly ignores knows that it’s a lie. So he lets her grind on him with his hands gripped tight on her hips, whispering what she wants to hear in her ear. As he feels himself starting to harden he purrs “Why don’t we head somewhere a little more private?” right into Not You’s ear.

He pays no attention to her response other than the fact it’s a yes before dragging her towards the club bathrooms. It doesn’t take much to scare out anyone else inside and soon enough he’s got the door locked and his tongue halfway down her throat. He pushes her back against the counter, spinning her around so she’s facing the mirrors as he bites down on her neck. She keens and the voice is all wrong so he wraps a hand over her mouth to silence her moans even as his other hand moves to the hem of her skirt and starts to slip underneath. “Be a good little whore and keep nice and quiet for me Doll,” he commands lowly, moving his one hand away from her mouth while the other begins to stroke her over panties. “Of course, Daddy,” she moans and the easy acceptance feels wrong somehow. His eyes drift to the mirror against his better judgment and find hers there. When he sees them, sees the eyes that are definitively Not Yours, he suddenly feels nauseous. He jerks away from her immediately and Not You turns to him with big wide confused eyes and asks if she did something wrong. He ignores her entirely, turning away and storming out of the bathroom, his chest feeling tight.

Dabi rushes to the bar and Izumi can immediately tell something is wrong. Before they can say anything Dabi leans across the wooden surface, snatches up one of the bottles and proceeds to leave the club without a word. He’s quick to unscrew the cap, putting the bottle to his lips and taking a long pull as he starts the walk back to your old place.

“Hey what happened are you-”

Dabi wrenches himself free from the hand that had tried to slow his progress, whirling around to find Izumi putting their hands up in surrender, stunned to silence by the anger radiating off every inch of him. The hand not clutching the stolen bottle of liquor ignites in warning and Izumi’s eyes fill with fear. Instilling fear used to give Dabi such a power rush but when he looks in Izumi’s eyes it feels too much like seeing the fear in yours.

So he turns away and clutches the bottle even tighter, hoping it’ll save him from thoughts of you.

A/N: I realized as I was writing this that as much as we know about Dabi we don't know anything about the time between him faking his death and joining the LoV other than the fact that he was murdering people sometimes. So Izumi was born because even though Dabi probably doesn't care about any of the people from that period of his life, it doesn't mean there was no one that cared/cares about him from that period. I find it hard to believe that there's no one who would remember and/or still worry about him. It's like 10 years at least of unaccounted for time and I refuse to think there are zero notable people from that period in his life

Also fun fact: Izumi calls the LoV league of legends bc I legitimately fucking zoned out in the middle of writing and ended up typing legends instead of villains in a wild moment of word association 💀

Taglist: @thechroniclesofawriter @simpsfortodoroki @ahtsuwu @oliviasslut @larkspyrr @oikawaandkuroostan @tina-98 @vibesdontlie @clubfairy @oddball215 @myfavoriteficsandsuch

#hopelessad #hopeless.thirst #dabi x fem!reader #dabi x y/n #touya x fem!reader #touya x y/n #touya todoroki #bnha dabi

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

Text

Ash and Dust Part 16- Silent Support

18+ Dabi x fem!reader (MINORS DNI)

Link to change y/n to your actual name (not mobile compatible)

Masterlist Kofi (Help Lulu)

“But yea, so I’m almost done at this point and would be happy to set up a time to show you all of the final paintings.”

“Great, I will have a receptionist at my agency reach out to set up a time.”

You hesitate for a moment on the call, worry stopping you from immediately hanging up.

“Hey Todoroki?”

“Yes?”

“Everything ok? You seem off.”

There’s a wry chuckle down the line followed by a heavy sigh.

“You’re very perceptive, (y/l/n),” Shouto admits.

“I try to be. What’s up with you?”

“Do you recall that private family vigil I told you about? It’s in a few hours and I’m feeling… conflicted.”

“Conflicted?”

“I hated the man most of my life and right to the end I barely tolerated him. Still... he was my father.”

“Yea… That’s true,” you reply, mind starting to spin.

“Anyway, like I said I’ll have my receptionist reach out. Thank you for all your hard work.”

“Of course. Take care of yourself Todoroki.”

As you hang up the phone you can’t help but replay Shouto’s words over and over again in your head. Dabi still hasn’t talked to you about Endeavor’s death at all. Even with the new intimacy the two of you share, his past and his father remain unexplored territory. As much as you would like to believe he truly doesn’t need to talk about it, you know that’s not the case. He gets twitchy sometimes, like he’s itching to do something but doesn’t know what. You’ve learned to keep the tv far away from news channels because any mention of Endeavor has his hands smoking, even more so if there’s explicit mention of his death. You haven’t pushed the issue because things have always felt so fragile between the two of you, but you’d be lying if you didn’t say you were concerned by just how much Dabi hasn’t bothered processing Endeavor’s death. Sometimes you think he’s forgotten about the pro’s death entirely before catching himself.

“You’re looking particularly constipated,” Dabi notes as he exits the kitchen, taking a bite of an apple as he comes to join you on the floor of the living room. He lies down with his head in your lap and your hand instinctively goes to his hair. The casual touching is new but it already feels scarily natural.

“I’m thinking about something,” you admit.

“I hope it’s about stealing more of your furniture. A tv and a mattress do not a home make Doll,” Dabi smirks, extending the apple to you in a subtle offer. You shake your head no and he shrugs it off, bringing it back to his own lips to take a bite.

“I’m serious Dabi.”

“Never a good sign.”

“Your family is holding a vigil for Endeavor a few hours from now and I think you should go.”

Immediately Dabi scowls and makes to sit up but your hand tightens in his hair. He could make you release him if he really wanted but he instead rolls his eyes and stays put. As soon as you’re sure he won’t move you loosen your grip and instead stroke through the dark locks. Looking down you can see his white roots starting to show through and it feels oddly fitting somehow.

“Why the fuck would I do that?” he scoffs.

“Because you deserve closure?”

He rolls his eyes again even harder but you persist.

“I’m serious! You trust me right?” you ask.

The two of you make eye contact as he looks up at you and although he doesn’t answer verbally, you can see his begrudging yes in his eyes.

“I’m not saying you have to go hold hands and sing kumbaya with your family. They don’t even have to know you’re there. Just go to the gravestone and like, process that he’s really gone.”

“I’m well aware the bastard is gone. I don’t need to go to some vigil to know that.”

“Then you’ve got nothing to lose. Just show up and if it does nothing for you then you can leave immediately and rub it in my face that I was wrong.”

The two of you have a silent stare off for a while, neither willing to back down. You know you’re right and, whether he believes it or not, you have a point that even if you’re wrong about him needing to go he has nothing to lose by going.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally concedes and it brings a fond smile to your face.

“That’s all I ask.”

Dabi spends the next few hours agitated but you leave him to his thoughts. Your job was done as soon as you planted the seed, the actual decision of whether to go or not has to be his. You’re hopeful though and if you’re being honest it’s touching that he’s taking your suggestion so seriously. It’s clear that if not for you he wouldn’t even consider it, but he is, and considering it very seriously at that. You choose not to go into the studio like you usually do, instead working on sketches for your other commissions now that you’re almost done with everything for Shouto. It lets you stick around in case he needs you. Around hour 3 you make tea for yourself but set another full mug beside you in case he wants it. He stops pacing for a moment, eyeing the cup for a while before giving in and moving to join you. He takes the mug and sits quietly beside you, staring at the opposite wall with a pensive scowl on his face as it slowly cools.

“If I go, what will you do?” he finally asks, eyes still trained on the wall. It’s the first time either of you have broken the silence in the apartment since you first told him about the vigil.

“I’ll go to my studio to work. You’re more than welcome to join me there when you’re done,” you explain.

He nods.

One moment passes.

Then another.

Then he suddenly rises with a sigh.

“I’m just going to prove your dumbass theory wrong,” he huffs but it brings a small smile to your face anyway.

“Can’t wait for you to hang it over my head forever. Let me grab my stuff and we’ll head out together,” you tell him, rising to do just that.

Within a few minutes you’re both stood outside the apartment. He’s got a black hoodie on again, hood pulled up so he’s more inconspicuous. The sun is starting to set, casting red and golden light across everything as he turns to look at you, eyes scanning you up and down for a moment as if considering something.

“You have all your shit right?” he finally asks.

“You know I used to go to my studio alone all the time right? You coming with is a new addition,” you tease.

He rolls his eyes at you but some of the tension in his shoulders seems to ease anyway.

“Whatever. Try not to do any stupid shit while I’m gone Doll.”

“Same to you. I’ll see you later tonight.”

On that final note you both start to walk towards your respective destinations. You can’t help but worry a little about him. As insistent as he is that he’ll have no reaction to the vigil, you still remember his initial reaction to the news of his father’s death. You look back over your shoulder only to find that he’s done the same. It’s funny how protective you both have gotten. He gives you a nod as if in confirmation that he’ll be just fine and you give him a smile back to assure him you’ll be the same.

You walk away trying not to think about a once beautiful bedroom destroyed and a lone figure hunched in the rain right outside it.

A/N: It is genuinely embarrassing how long I agonized over what to title this part

#hopelessad #dabi x fem!reader #dabi x y/n #bnha dabi #touya x y/n #touya x fem!reader #touya todoroki #bnha x reader #bnha x fem!reader

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hopelesshawks · 2 years

Text

Ash and Dust Part 18- Aftermath

18+ Dabi x fem!reader (MINORS DNI)

Warnings for disassociation, non-graphic description of previously acquired severe injury

Link to change y/n to your actual name (not mobile compatible)

Masterlist Kofi (Help Lulu)

You wake up the next morning cold, sore, and in pain.

But more importantly you wake up alone.

Your joints groan as you sit up off the concrete floor, wrapping your arms tightly around your still naked body as a shiver runs through you. Your eyes scan the studio for any sign of Touya but there is none. You try not to panic, there are a million rational reasons he may have dipped out. Last night meant something. It has to have. That wasn’t some quick, easy one night stand deal. He’d insisted you call him by his given name and he’d told you you’re his now. He wouldn’t do all of that just to abandon you immediately after.

You repeat the thought until you believe it before finally finding your clothes from the day before and pulling them back on. They’re surprisingly dry and pretty warm, so you can only assume Touya is responsible for drying them out. He can’t have been gone too long so you settle down on the floor by the door to wait.

An hour passes and no sign of Touya.

You bite your lip nervously before reaching for your phone. There’s not a ton of battery left but it will have to do as you quickly dial his number and put the phone to your ear. It rings once, twice, three times and nothing. You listen to the grating tone of the ringer until it cuts to Touya’s voicemail box before hanging up and trying again.

After the third missed call you finally leave a voicemail.

“Hey Touya, it’s (y/n), uhm, just wanted to know where you are? It’s been awhile since I woke up and you haven’t come back to the warehouse yet. Give me a call when you get this ok? Thanks…”

“Hey Touya me again. Did you head back home already or something? Are you grabbing food? Like, what gives, I’m getting worried. Please call me back.”

“So I came back to our apartment and you’re not here and neither is some of your stuff. Can you please just call me?”

“Is this about last night? Did I do something wrong? Can you at least just tell me you’re ok? Please Touya, just call me.”

Each successive voicemail you leave sounds more and more desperate and you hate it. You stare at your phone in disappointment, chewing on your lip nervously as you stare at you and Dabi’s messages to see if he’s texted you anything at all. After at least 20 minutes of you just staring at the chat you see the three little dots that indicate typing pop up and your eyes widen in anticipation. You watch them bounce tauntingly for what feels like ages, unable to pry your eyes away for even a second as you desperately seek some sort of explanation. Then suddenly the dots disappear as Dabi apparently stops typing. You curse under your breath and immediately dial his number again but this time he sends you straight to voicemail.

It hurts in a way you didn’t expect it to, shaking your entire core apart. As the voicemail box beeps to indicate you should start saying your message you find yourself speechless. Had last night meant nothing to him? Your vision swims as tears start to gather in your eyes as you struggle to grasp anything to say to him.

“Fuck you Dabi,” you end up declaring, voice wobbling with emotion as you spit the words before hanging up the phone.

Your chest feels tight as you clutch your phone so hard you can hear the plastic of its case creak. Without thinking you chuck it across the room, watching it slam into the wall and clatter against the floor. You don’t have to see it to know the screen has shattered, but it’s hard to care right now when it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. It hurts. It hurts to be abandoned again and it hurts knowing that after trying so hard to avoid making the mistakes your mother did, you’ve stumbled your way right into them anyway.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, your phone pings from the other side of the room. You sigh and wander over to it, inspecting the damaged screen as you collect your phone off the floor. It’s still usable at least. Just usable enough, in fact, for you to see the message notification from Todoroki’s receptionist asking to confirm your meeting with him at the end of the week. A long string of panicked curses tumble from your lips as memories of flaming canvases resurface. You’re out the door in seconds, racing towards your studio and praying it’s not as bad as you remember.

It’s actually worse.

Every canvas is an unsalvageable mess. Anything that had escaped the flames was absolutely massacred by the sprinkler system. Hours and hours worth of work, ruined, all because you’d been dumb enough to fall for whatever sick game Dabi had been playing with you. When you leave your studio nothing feels real. You feel distant from your body, jerking yourself forward along the streets aimlessly. You’ve gone from thinking you finally had everything to having absolutely nothing in the span of a few hours. It’s the most jarringly painful experience you’ve had in a very long time.

Whoever said it’s better to have loved and lost is full of shit.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been wandering around when you accidentally bump into someone. At first they react with annoyance but then they take notice of the burns on your arms and suddenly this random stranger is fretting over you and insisting on taking you to the nearest hospital. You merely shrug, allowing them to drag you away. You’d forgotten about the burns to be honest although as you look at the skin now you realize that probably was a mistake. A potentially lethal one at that. Once you arrive at the hospital it’s all a flurry of movement, people, and healing quirks that leaves you drained. You barely register the nurse telling you to go ahead and rest before you’re passing out in the hospital bed, arms tightly bound and covered in salve.

You wake up what feels like hours later to someone changing out your bandages. You blink awake slowly, registering a shock of white hair on a broad frame as large, rough hands carefully unwind your bandages. The guy whistles lowly before his gray eyes meet yours and a small wry smile spreads across his face. It looks oddly familiar even though you’re sure you’ve never met this man in your life.

“Quite the burns you’ve got here,” he jokes, carefully grasping one of your forearms in each hand. You can see frost form along his palms briefly but when he asks if you can feel anything you shake your head no. He hums, brow furrowing slightly before releasing your arms.

“I should introduce myself. Todoroki Natsuo, I’m a resident here at this hospital,” he explains, extending a hand out to you to shake. You reach forward and grasp his hand, noting the way he gives a small nod of approval when you return the handshake.

“That’s why you seem so familiar,” you find yourself saying without meaning to, eyes widening slightly when you realize.

“Oh? I’m guessing you know Pro Hero Shouto,” he chuckles.

“Ah- yea, that’s it,” you cough awkwardly.

It doesn’t go unnoticed and Natsuo’s expression shifts slightly, his eyes wandering down to the burns on your forearms. You don’t want him clueing in to the how, or more accurately the who, behind your burns so you scramble for an alternative explanation for your odd initial reaction.

“I just mean I’m not, like, a Shouto fan girl or whatever. I’m the artist that did the memorial thing for Endeavor and I’m supposed to be working on Shouto’s merch line.”

Natsuo’s eyes widen in recognition.

“Oh! He’s told us about you. We seriously owe you one you know.”

“I think we can call it even,” you smile wryly, lifting your forearms for emphasis.

“Nah, I’m just doing my job,” Natsuo grins good-naturedly, it’s hard to picture him as being related to Endeavor, Shouto, or Dabi like this and not for the first time you wonder what Dabi would’ve been like had life been just a little less cruel to him. You shake your head as if to physically dispel the thought from your mind before giving Natsuo a grin you hope meets your eyes.

“And I was just doing mine,” you assure him.

“Well we appreciate it and I know he’s not great at showing it but Shouto’s really excited to see the final designs.”

Guilt lances through you as you think of the ruined canvases sitting in your studio but Natsuo is already turning away from you to make notes on your chart before he can notice.

“Well, you’re all set to go. Make sure to change out the bandages pretty regularly, you’re lucky those didn’t get infected before you came in,” he tells you, placing his hands on his hips and giving you a nod.You nod back, hopping off the hospital bed and making your way towards the door.

“Oh and (y/l/n)?” he calls after you, causing you to pause in the doorway and turn to face him. He looks off balanced and unsure, for the first time since you woke up to find him in your room.

“I know I’m probably wrong and it’s a crazy conclusion to jump to but if I’m not just… Just know it doesn’t get easier. He never gets easier.”

You swallow hard around the lump that forms in your throat, barely managing to croak out a goodbye as you rush from the room without acknowledging what he’s said.

A/N: This was a bitch to write because I initially had no intention of reader getting burned in the last part so I knew that needed to be addressed but it's one of the few scenes in this late stage of the fic I had not planned for lmao

#hopelessad #dabi x y/n #dabi x fem!reader #bnha dabi #touya x y/n #touya x fem!reader #bnha touya #touya todoroki #disassociation tw

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