#ex husband!touya todoroki au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

savnofilter · 15 days

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You Belong to Me | dabi/t. touya

(Ex)-Husband!Touya Todoroki x [FEM]Reader

WARNING(S): sexual content, fingering [m → f], pussy slapping, praise kink, spanking, teasing, derogatory names (slut), edging, overstimulation, dacryphilia (reader’s a cryer but Dabi wipes your tears), Touya is still a lil mean tho, oral [m -> f], "pussy" job, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up y'all), multiple orgasms, (dysfunctional) established relationship. mediately unedited.

COUNT: 4k words.

READ MORE: masterlist | adult masterlist

A/N: most of this i just had to get down 😭 im too lazy to try and proofread ts again sjsjssj anywhom, lots of concerning relationship fics lately but thanks okay 😘

"You really don't want me anymore?"

You bit your bottom lip to hold back any pleasurable moans that threatened to spill from your lips.

"Have I really neglected my baby that much?" His teeth were now on the sensitive part of your neck, his hands slipping under your nightgown and your legs instinctively opened for the man in need.

"Touya—" You breathed out the name of your soon-to-be ex-husband.

You two had been together for about 4 years and as of right now, it took about two years for his behavior to change.

In the beginning it was nice, as all marriage stories start off. You had met him at a social gathering, you an intern and him a soon to be heir for his father's company. That night before he made a move, you two would exchange flustered gazes, his more domineering than yours. Everytime you two would start to get close in proximity, you'd give him a playful look before slipping away into the crowd of people and stringing him along. You couldn't deny the attraction you were feeling towards the man and it was only your luck when he took it up on himself to introduce himself to you.

That's how your dynamic was: you were the prey that had it in high over their own pretty little head, whilst Touya was a predator who loved games and the thrill of taking home a cute prize at the end of the night. Conversations with him felt so easy, so weightless. Even with all the games and courting you genuinely liked being around him and deep down you wanted to stay near him all the time, too. He liked how you weren't just a pretty face, a witty and intelligent brain to match your beauty. That part wasn't surprising to him knowing your academic track record before properly pursuing you.

Coming down the line you couldn't deny the spark that the two of you had. But then he became sneaky, more “career driven”. He never was like that, he hardly cared about his family's corporation. It wasn't like you were suspecting he was cheating, though what could stop him from doing that with how wealthy he was? Why all of a sudden now?

You could barely hold a conversation with him and each time you gave him affection he would halfheartedly return it back. Every night you were begging for him to talk to you, only for you to be met with a nonchalant attitude and broken promises. You didn't know how else to get anything to change, the best course of affection were the papers you had served to him while he was at work. It was a decision that wasn't easy but one you were willing to take. You could make use of yourself somehow.

You missed the warmth of Touya's lips, his heavy and rough hands, along with his body heat on you like this. His weight is just as consuming as you remembered, the intoxicating feeling pulling you under more and more. His lips met yours in a sloppy kiss that you couldn't help but reciprocate. Touya's tongue poked at your bottom asking for an entrance and your lips happily opened for him, the tip of your own wet muscle meeting his in a messy haze. You moaned against his mouth as he quickly overpowered yours and dragged his hands further onto your body. You had forgotten the promise to hold back your wanton noises but you couldn't help it. You were always putty in his hands.

His warm palms moved to grope at your skin, exploring the untouched expanse he had missed out on for quite some time. He hummed at the warmth against your clothed snatch, the tips of his two fingers pressing into the familiar swell of your clit. He pulls away with a string connecting you two, not paying it any mind as it breaks on its own as you two catch your breath.

Circles were pressed into your sensitive nub through the fabric of your panties. The silk material gave you a good bit of stimulation but you knew it wasn't the same as feeling his bare finger tips. Your pending ex-husband lovingly gazed at your begging expression, knowing what you really wanted but loved seeing you fall apart before he could give it. For you being so cruel, he'd have to coax the words out of you first before anything else.

“What is it you need, baby?” Touya whispers against your lips, tauntingly applying more pressure against your clit and drawing his face away from yours when you wordlessly lean in to feel his kiss again. Your brows cutely scrunch up in frustration, not hiding anything from him. Not your body, not your facial expressions, and soon enough not even your dignity. “Can't give it to you if you don't tell me.”

Your head presses back against the pillow with a pained whimper. This had been the first time in what seemed like forever and even now he was willing to toy with you. Not wanting to succumb to his usual games, your hands place themselves on the nape of his neck, fingers playing with the hairs and lightly pulling on them. The sensation has his eyes rolling back, his ministrations on your cunt only slowing down for a bit before leaving your body altogether. You're almost quick to moan until a gasp escapes your luscious lips first, a searing pain and a twisted tinge of pleasure following the sensation on your cunt.

He's soothing the smack just as fast as he had delivered the assault. Before you could even comprehend what had happened, the glare on his face deepens as you refuse to give him what he wants. His free hand holding him up instead takes both your wrists and pins them over your head, effortlessly taking control.

Smack.

His hand delivered another spank to your pussy, his hands then caressing the spot to soothe the pain. Your hips jerked as they followed his soothing touches, a small cry coming from you when he diddles you.

“Fuck, Touya—”

“Mm, what was that, doll?” Smack. “I couldn't hear you over your whimpering.”

Well yeah, no shit.

Shamefully you were now starting to soak your silk panties, his handling doing everything in its power to toy with your new established relationship.

As he repeatedly played with your cunt, the rising tension of needing a proper release started to claw at you. You, who was once close to slumber, is now up and barely managing to fight back in the twisted tango you two were engaging in. Your nerves throbbed needlessly as you craved more than you were receiving.

“M-More, please.” You whisper out, tears pricking at your eyes as you look up at him. His eyes bore into yours and trails over your body as he contemplates whether to heed your request or not. His hard cock that pressed pressed against his dark pants was a sure indicator that if he wanted a release soon, he'd have to move quicker. But instead, he moves onward to tease the everliving hell out of you.

Though, he is feeling empathetic as he easily slips his hand into your drenched underwear, digits stroking at your cunny in admiration. He shamelessly moans feeling your slick against his fingertips, taking no time in slipping his two fingers inside of you, not caring about the stretch or not.

Your hips buck into his fingering at the slight uncomfortable stretch his digits gave you, the way he knew how to use his fingers slowly easing the discomfort away soon enough. Your chest rose and fell as you tried to keep your climax at bay. The temperature in your body felt as though it was going through the roof and you needed it to simmer down soon.

Touya chuckles degradingly above you as he notices how you ride his fingers, using him as much as you can to get off. Though, your body is already telling him that you're close before you even need to say it. You're babbling with your eyes closed in blind belief that he'll let you finish, but your husband has other plans. Just as you become exponentially wordless, he stops fingering you, the emptiness leaving you reeling in disappointment and has you opening your eyes to “glare” at him. At least you were trying to, your gaze was more of a desperate plea more than anything that demanded any sort of power here.

With swiftness he rips your panties off, the garment now hanging on one hip. You try to tug at his hold above your head and he disapprovingly tsk’s. “Make it easier for both of us and say what you need, doll.”

But instead of giving you a breather, his hand is palming your sex again. Your jaw clenches and you groan in response. Defiantly, you shake your head as his movements on your labia become slow and languid. Though the sensation tips of his fingers threatening to enter your pussy is what wakes you up, the number of his digits being three. Greedy as you are (rightfully so), you close your eyes as you shamefully submit to him in record timing.

“Need you in me, baby,” You look up at him, tears already falling. You didn't care at this point and now you found yourself eventually falling into his clutches once again.

Bingo.

Touya smirks down at you, the smug expression although holding up changes into one of loving when he slips three of his fingers into your awaiting pussy. His palm grazes the top of your pussy as he effortlessly fucks you with his fingers, the sopping wet sound of your pussy signifying your essence dripping onto his fingers and setting your thighs and sheets beneath. You had just changed them too.

He curls his fingers up just slightly to hit at that soft spot at the rough of your pussy, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. You try tugging at your hands again, face burying into your bicep as you mewl.

“M-More.”

“I'm already inside you, babe,” Your husband teases. He pokes harsher at your g-spot to emphasize his words, the jab sending you over the edge. You could barely register how intense your orgasm is, but the mocking of Touya’s voice lets you know. “Squirting all over my fingers and I haven't even fucked you with my cock yet.” He grins down at you and lets go of your pinned hands, his other hand hesitantly retracting from your womanhood when you've finally finished. You groan as you slump against the bed, not even having the fight to use your arms now that they're finally released. But un(fortunately) for you, he's not done yet.

Touya loosens his tie and starts to undress himself, eyes watching down at you as if a predator watching its prey. When he pulls you in closer to him by your ankle, he's down to the boxers he wore under his business suit. His hands skim over your supple skin, admiring the way your sleepwear teased at your figure. To him it didn't matter what you wore, just seeing you as you are always made his cock stir.

His hands pull your clothes over your head and down your legs, savoring the last piece of your clothes with the other discarded pieces. Once you're completely naked, he gets in position by laying on his stomach and gets between your thighs. He places one leg on his shoulder and gives the plush area on the inside of your thigh a chaste kiss as he stares openly at your pussy. His other hand positions your thigh to copy the one on his occupied shoulder as he gets close to your core.

“Let me ruin this pussy.” He mumbles before licking a strip up your labia and swirling his tongue against your erect clit. A drawn out moan is pulled from you as that was only the beginning, the petting with his tongue now moving against your cunny as if he was trying to devour you.

His hands grip your thighs to hold you in place, your squirming no match for him. His tongue gave your labia a few long drags, unabashedly savoring the sweet tang your pussy gave to him. Obscenely, he moves a lower to insert his tongue, nose proudly pressed against your clit and ready to use it at your disposal. He gladly welcomes the rocking of your hips against his face, moaning as your slick coats his face in earnest. He mumbles against your lower lips, completely love drunk in it. You, lost in the pleasure and overstimulation to even care or notice. You needed this next release bad, and didn't care if it was starting to hurt.

His rough but smooth tongue deliciously lapped at your hole, unafraid of indulging itself into your hot cavern. His tongue swirls, although relaxed, successfully swirls itself around your gummy walls, tasting it as though it were his first time between your legs. Mixed with the wanton moans and the lewdness of his slurping, it was no surprise at how erotic this scene seemed and you thanked the heavens you two lived by yourselves. With utmost enthusiasm, you happily grounded your cunny against his face, reveling in the pleasure of it all. Soon enough his mouth was suckling on your clit again, one hand leaving to easily insert his two fingers into your cunt and finger fuck you from his position.

As your climax starts to arise a wave of emotions start to poke at you, emotions that you weren't expecting. In an odd sense, everything was happening so fast you were barely grasping it. God knows how long you've been feeling lonely in this marriage, and the thought was surely killing your mood the longer it plagued your mind. You groaned in frustration as tears of grit and annoyance start to twinkle in your eyes, needing to finish fast before this session becomes a mess -- more than it underlyingly was.

You don't bother to alert him as you finish, your body tensing as you finish against his mouth. Your hips threatened to raise off the bed but his strong grip on your front prevented you to do so, keeping your hips trapped against his hungry mouth. You sobbed out a plea as he tirelessly lapped at your entrance, his face messy with your slick all over it. Your clit throbbed from the overstimulation and your walls quivered as he relentlessly continued.

“Touya,” You mewled, your tone coming off more of a whine than warning. Reluctantly, he pulled away, licking his lips as he looked at you with his signature, smug, smirk.

“Sorry, couldn't help myself.” Touya pulls away but maintains the space between you, that being none for Jesus. He wraps your legs around his waist and shudders feeling your heat so close against his. He guides his hardened length in his hand, the light sliver of light that spills into your darkened room eliminating his awaiting cock.

He takes great dignity in pressing it flat against you, using the underside of his cock to rub against your clit with every lazy languid thrust. He mockingly moans as his cock brushes against your puffy and sensitive lips, only slightly pulling back to rub his mushroom tip against your heat and gathering your natural lube. You softly try to urge him to hurry up, waiting far too long for this moment. Alas, he listens although not kindly. His tip plays at your opening before sinking himself in and bottoms out inside you. Immediately your walls quiver around his length and you buck your hips to get more. He takes your lead and holds your waist in his hands, pushing you into his cock like a cock sleeve.

His thrusts are wet and sloppy as your pussy has more than enough slick to keep you two going. Touya deeply groans as your walls pulsate around him. His hips moved quick and fast allowing no mercy for you as he also was trying to chase a high as well. Except for unlike you, recently he hadn't cum at all in awhile. Not even a pathetic fap to get himself relieved from all things considered. If anything, that thought alone is what made him fuck you harder, all his frustration being released onto you.

He pulls your leg up and flips you onto your side. You groan at the change as it adds no mercy to his punishing stance. You're barely holding onto reality as he holds your leg up and folds it against your body. You tilt your head back once he reaches down to grab your neck, fingers squeezing at the column before he's leaning into pressing his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss. The added pressure of his body on yours adds to the weight being thrusted in you. A more than quiet whimper is sealed against his lips as he swallows all of your pathetic sounds, thoroughly enjoying how easy it is to have you in his arms again. His pretty little spouse who needed him just as much as he needed you.

Touya reaches down to diddle your clit as you take in his schlong, a grin reaching his lips as your body stills at the sensation. As his tongue wantonly plays with yours, a string of saliva connects you two as you part for more air. Your lips are swollen and messy from the kiss with the taste of yourself still fresh on your tongue. His eyes gaze in adoration as your eyes clenched shut, hands messily gripping at anything it can as you finish on his cock. It takes everything in him not to finish along with your climax.

He leans up and pulls out much to the greedy sound of your disapproval. He carefully let's your leg down and gives your ass a smack as he commands you.

“Turn around.”

You're already so fucked-out from the last orgasm that it takes you a second and another spank for you to get the memo. You get on your hands and knees and let your head hang in exhaustion, ready to pass out but not wanting to stop now. It's not like you were the one who had a full schedule tomorrow anyways.

You softly hum as you feel his hot cock press against your ass, the wet girth poking at your skin. He grabs his cock and strokes it a few times before teasing your opening with it, his other hand spreading your thick ass cheek to observe it and play with your puffy cunt lips.

“Mm, put it in for me, doll.” Touya commands, his hand that used to hold his cock then sliding up your back and gripping the back of your neck. You let out a muffled cuss as you messily try to reach for it under you, hands quick in its search and messily trying to find your hole. Your head lowers onto your pillow right where he wanted as you look over your shoulder, maintaining eye contact with him as you successfully guide him to your hole. “Go ‘head.” He encourages as his pelvis pushes forward for you to finish sinking yourself onto his length. You attempt to close your eyes as you slowly push back on him, his hand on the back of your neck then lightly slapping your cheek for you to open your eyes. “Look at me while you do it, baby.”

Fuck. He was making it harder than it had to be.

Your eyes flutter open as you look up at him in the dimly lit room, your eyes feeling electric as he hungrily stares down at you. You muster as much as you can to press your ass fully against him, his hand caressing your hips as you do so. With a final push your ass is snug against his pelvis just as he requested. Only a moments worth of adjustment and a small praise is all your awarded before he's pounding into you again. His hand stays pressed against the side of your head to keep you in position.

It's almost humiliating the noises you make out as he fucks into you. Your body is in collapsed doggy as you have no other choice to be ass up as he greedily watches your ass jiggle with every forceful thrust from him. His hand on your hip goes to squeeze your ass, his thumb threatening to enter your back hole from how he chose to hold you.

“Thats all this little slut needed, huh? Some attention,” Touya chuckles as he gives your ass a slap, the impact leaving a stinging impression on your skin. “My little spouse, all lonely the poor baby.”

You pathetically try to deny his claims although you both knew it was all talk. It was one of the reasons you were always puddy under his hands. He knew your body better than anyone else and you never had to go looking for other bodies when you started dealing with him. Every time you did, you weren't satisfied. Just as much as he was obsessed with you, you were with him as well.

“You'll take it back, right? You're not leaving me so soon?” He breathes against your ear, fingers harshly rubbing at your overstimulated clit. You nod your head as you feel another climax quickly approaching and you babble on, mind turning to mush as he pinches and DJ's your sensitive nub at the top of your pussy.

“Yes, yes, yes- fuck!” You yell out. Each moan and whimper from you is bopped out of you as he plummels into you. Your choice in sex toys had no comparison to any of this. “Cum—cumming!” You whine out as you try to warn him as it hits you again.

A shiver racks down you and you freeze up. You see white and your mouth hangs open as he doesn't stop for a second. Tears of pleasure and stimulation start to slip from your eyes, your cries sounding more than it had before.

“I'm close baby,” He reassures you and wipes your tears as he gets close. He wraps his arms around your waist and presses his front snug against your back once he finishes in you. His load fills up your inner crevices just as you had remembered. It's thick, runny and just as fulfilling as it always has been. You sob out as it overwhelms you, his hands softly rubbing your skin to help you come down.

— ✮ ★ ☆ —

There's a moment where you two collect yourselves and he's laying beside you. You're wrapped in his arms, both of you sweaty and worn out. It had been like you two weren't currently at odds with each other and a part of you missed it. Though this couldn't change much of what you've made your mind up about, even with your mindless promise before you chased your high.

A burning sensation hits your sinuses as you try to engulf yourself in him, face burying deeper into his shoulder and neck, not wanting the moment to end. Luckily, the AC in the room is on its lightest setting as your hot bodies need it to cool down.

Maybe you'll discuss your marriage tomorrow…

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #ex husband!touya todoroki au #xhb au #bnha imagines #mha imagines #n/sfw #sav's sinning

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inkykeiji · 4 years

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i can take you there but baby you won’t make it back

character: dabi | todoroki touya

notes: stepcest (kind of—ur parents aren’t married yet) with dabi-as-touya x a very naïve and inexperienced reader, normal!AU (no quirks, dabi also has tattoos over his scarred + fully healed skin), university!reader, implied yakuza!dabi, excessive use of the words niichan and good, praise kink, fingering, face fucking, title credit = save that shit by lil peep lmao uhhhh yeah i hc dabi as a very intelligent and perceptive individual soooo i feel like he’d be a master at reading a person & their emotions and then adapting his manipulation techniques

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), noncon/dubcon, slight somnophilia, emotional manipulation, toxic relationship, size difference, slight degradation, mentions of drug use

words: 7.1k

part 2.1 | part 2.2

synopsis:

“You want to be good for me, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Of course,” you respond instantly. Later, when you lay awake in your bed, you’ll feel ashamed by your actions, by how readily captivated you were with him, by how easily he was able to manipulate you with those sapphire eyes and that rough voice—

But in that moment, you’ll do anything to pull that little smile from him, anything to hear him tell you you’re good. You just want to be good.

Something dark and primal flashes in those gorgeous eyes as they gaze down at you, a small grin spreading across his face. “Of course,” he repeats softly.

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Your dad’s been dating Rei for a while—nearly a year, now—when things begin to get serious, and he proposes to her.

She accepts, so it’s not exactly a surprise when she suggests you guys move in with her—she’s got more than enough space, she tells you, it’s just her and her son in that big old house—and your dad seems pretty thrilled about it. This was the next step before marriage, after all.

You like Rei well enough, she’s always been nothing but sweet to you, and anyway, your father’s relationship really isn’t any of your business or concern.

It isn’t that you don’t want to move in with her—her house is in a better part of the neighborhood, a standard detached upper-middle class home, and just a short walk from a bus stop that’ll take you directly to university, which you start in a week.

It’s just…You’re a little apprehensive.

You know she has kids. She mentions them in passing every once in a while, but you can’t for the life of you remember their names, or their ages, or how many of them there are. You know they don’t all live with her, that her relationship with her ex-husband is complicated and rocky at best.

But you’re still surprised to hear that only one of them, her eldest, lives with her. She tells you he’s five years older than you are, that he’s a clever, smart boy, going off on a tangent about how disappointed she is that he didn’t go to university, because ‘he would’ve done so well—he could’ve shone so brightly.’ Something about the way she says that, the way her voice sounds almost sad, makes anxiety turn to lead in your stomach. She talks about him as if he’s already a lost cause, but he’s only in his mid-twenties, isn’t he?

You understand the moment you see him. The man standing in front of you as you shift from foot to foot unsurely in the foyer of this unfamiliar house is about as far from what you anticipated as he could possibly be.

He’s tall, skin pale as moonlight, with jet black hair and the most stunning blue eyes you’ve ever seen. But that isn’t what captivates you. It isn’t the lip ring curled around his bottom lip snuggly, and it isn’t the tongue piercing you’re about to find out he’s hiding in his mouth, either.

Every inch of the exposed skin of his arms is covered in intricate, seamlessly flowing tattoos—or, for a moment, you thought it was tattoos, plural. Upon closer inspection, you realize that each arm is actually covered in one giant tattoo, giving a new definition to the term ‘sleeve’. It’s all black ink, not a splash of colour anywhere, depicting an extremely detailed and anatomically correct mechanical arm, complete with what would’ve been joints, ligaments and bones in the form of wires and steel.

The tattoos extend onto the tops of his hands, made to look as if surgical staples are peeling his skin back to reveal the robot beneath. This same tattoo continues up his neck, along his jaw and onto his cheeks, all the way to his bottom lip, spreading across his entire face and disappearing into his hairline and onto his ears. Finally, there’s a small portion of the tattoo underneath his eyes, the surgical staples lining the edges of the face tattoos, too.

It startles you—you’re not necessarily scared, you just…weren’t expecting that. But there’s no denying the rush of breath that involuntarily escapes your lips as your eyes search his face, raking over his body in a brazen way that should make you feel shameful, travelling back up to find him smirking smugly at you, raising an eyebrow as your eyes meet again.

The look in his eyes tells you he knows, knows what you’re thinking about, knows how undeniably attracted you are to him, and scalding heat floods your cheeks.

He chuckles a little, which does nothing but add insult to injury, and sharp anger slices through your chest at the way that you stomach absolutely drops at his gravelly voice. You can’t believe yourself, can’t believe your body is reacting and responding so readily to this man—this stranger.

He introduces himself as Touya, in that rough, deep voice that forces a jolt of electricity to run through your veins. You idly wonder what your name would sound like on his tongue, how it might sound if his voice dropped to a growl, find yourself stuck thinking about this for the rest of the night.

✰ ✰ ✰

To your disappointment, and as much as you are unabashedly interested in him, you don’t interact much with Touya for your first few weeks in the house—in fact, you barely see him at all.

This only piques your curiosity about him more, finding that you’re unable to tear your eyes from him on the rare occasion that you are in a room together. He catches you staring every single time, and he has the audacity to chuckle to himself and shake his head when his gaze meets yours, your eyes quickly darting away and cheeks burning at his laugh.

You begin gathering little tidbits of information about him, purely sourced from interactions you witness in the house, desperately praying for something that’ll give you an opportunity to start a conversation with him.

Your efforts prove fruitless when, almost a month and a half since you moved in, you’ve still only spoken a handful of words to him. You do learn a bit about him through observing, though.

You discover that he’s a smoker, which really doesn’t come as a shock at all. Marlboro’s are his favourite, and he’s always got a pack in his back pocket or rolled up in the short sleeve of his t-shirt. He must have them imported—Marlboro’s are incredibly rare to find all the way in Japan.

Touya must have a lot of things imported.

You find out that every other Thursday, Touya discreetly stuffs an absurdly large wad of cash—all composed of ten-thousand-yen bills—into his mom’s hands, forcing her fingers to curl around it. She fights him on it, every time, but he’s firm and adamant that she take it. It always ends with Rei giving him a small, watery smile, Touya pressing a kiss against the side of her head and murmuring that he loves her.

After you witness this interaction for the first time, you begin to notice that, while the house looks relatively normal on the outside, it is stuffed full of luxury on the inside. Flat-screen TVs each complete with full entertainment systems, state of the art appliances that are somehow up to date with all of the latest trends (including a smart fridge—absolutely ridiculous), custom made furniture, ornate rugs, a housekeeper that drops by every Sunday…

You have no idea what he does for work, but you think you’ve got at least some sort of idea when you catch him one night, just past 2AM, exiting his room and using a thumb to brush excess white powder off his nose. His eyes catch yours, pupils blown and shining in the low light, and he smiles darkly at you, winking once as he walks away.

You don’t ask—no one ever does.

You don’t ask about the crimson splattered on the toe of his boot, or why he sometimes smells metallic, like copper, the strong scent wafting after him and invading the halls as he stalks leisurely toward the bathroom. You don’t ask why he leaves the house at odd hours in the night, and you definitely don’t ask about the soft clinking and clicking you hear through the thin walls every so often while he cleans his gun at 3AM.

You’re not sure if it’s really any of your business, anyway. So you stay quiet, and continue to wait.

The opportunity finally comes one Wednesday in October, two weeks before Halloween, when you’re in the kitchen after school busy fixing yourself an afternoon snack. Touya comes home uncharacteristically early—you rarely see him before 10PM, so his entrance scares you, and you jump a little.

“Sorry,” he murmurs as he passes by behind you, just an inch too close, just enough so you can feel his body heat radiating off of him.

“It’s fine,” you say quietly, shaking your head a little and trying in vain to stop your hands from trembling as you spread peanut butter across a piece of bread.

You can feel his eyes on you, and it makes you nervous, makes your skin crawl in a way you’ve never felt before. He laughs a little at your struggling, leaning against the counter next to you and crossing his arms over his chest.

“You don’t have to be so nervous around me, y’know,” he says with a smirk, eyes glittering at the way your lips part in surprise, your breath stuttering a little. “I’m your niichan after all, aren’t I?”

You hadn’t even considered using the honorific until he himself uses it.

Your hands freeze, hovering over your plate, and you look over at him slowly. “You…Want me to call you that?”

“You can, if you’d like,” he says smoothly, nonchalantly, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. It makes no difference to him, he tells you, but when he finally looks back at you, you think you can see it in his eyes—a sharp, small glimmer of…of something. Something that makes your stomach twist in a way you can’t decide if you like or not.

But this is it, you think, this is your opening to finally begin talking to him.

So you do. And the smirk he gives you the first time you address him by the honorific, voice quivering slightly as you ask him where Rei normally keeps the blender, is nothing short of predatory.

“It’s on the top shelf. It’s too high for you, though,” he says, voice so sickly sweet it almost sounds mocking. “Let niichan get it for you,”

It isn’t, but you let him get it for you anyway.

And he knows—knows he’s got you the moment you gasp at the honorific leaving his lips, trying to hide it behind your hand, nodding quickly and squeaking out a thank you.

It starts after that. He begins playing with you; a sick, perverse game of cat and mouse, hunter and hunted, and you play your part perfectly.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it, if you said it didn’t send wicked sparks of excitement shooting up your spine and an intense fluttering in your stomach.

And it starts slow. It starts with gentle pet names—honey, sweetheart, princess—and fingertips trailing down your arm as he passes you. It starts with a large hand placed on the small of your back, guiding you—out of the house and into his car, out of the kitchen and into the living room, out of the hallway and into his bedroom—and with little pecks on your lips stolen when no one’s watching, quick kisses that leave you feeling exhilarated despite their chastity.

Suddenly, he’s home a hell of a lot more. He’s sitting too close to you on the couch while you curl up with a textbook, his thigh pressed against you and flesh burning hot through his black jeans. He’s joining the family dinner a few times a week, idly hooking and unhooking his ankle with yours beneath the table while smirking at you from across it.

Suddenly, he’s asking you if you need a ride to school, or if you need someone to pick you up. You don’t, you tell him, the bus is just fine, but he insists. It’s what niichans do, he says. He wants to take care of you, he says.

Who are you to deny him that, really?

✰ ✰ ✰

The first time you experience Touya angry is about a month after the inciting incident, when he catches you walking home with a few of your university friends.

He had texted you earlier that day, telling you that he—very regretfully, he said—would be unable to pick you up from school this afternoon because ‘something had come up’.

You didn’t question what it was—you knew he’d lie even if you did. So you accepted it obediently, reassured him that it was fine, that you’d find another way home.

You’re pretty sure if you had told him that you didn’t have any extra change on you for the bus suddenly whatever important thing that had ‘come up’ which so desperately needed his attention wouldn’t be so urgent anymore. But you didn’t want to be a bother, or inconvenience him, so you say nothing.

Two friends decide they’ll accompany you on your walk home, so you aren’t lonely, they claim. Normally, the walk from campus to your house is about thirty minutes, but that day it takes you nearly an hour, wasting time goofing around and walking slowly as you talk idly.

Touya’s already pissed that it’s taken you so long to arrive home, that you’ve ignored all of his extremely considerate texts asking if you’re alright, but when he sees you squished between two boys, giggling as the three of you stumble up your driveway—he’s fucking fuming.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he asks, voice calm and monotonous, leaning casually against the doorframe.

Your head snaps up—you swear he wasn’t there just a second ago—blood running cold.

His stance is relaxed, arms crossed loosely over his chest, lazily raising an eyebrow as your wide eyes meet his. Technically, the only indication that he’s furious is the blazing blue fire in his eyes, but your friends can read the tension in the air surrounding him, shuffling a little closer to you. This minuscule action does not go unnoticed by Touya, sharp jaw clenching once.

“You had niichan worried,”

You’re frozen a few feet away from the porch, unable to find your voice, to move your legs, to breathe at all.

“I didn’t know you had an older brother,”

Your eyes do not leave Touya’s as you speak, the words hoarse. “Oh, we’re—”

“Yeah,” Touya bites, irritation finally bleeding into his voice. “She does,” his eyes float back to yours. “Come here, princess,”

Your body snaps into action, moving automatically before you can even comprehend it, allowing Touya to tuck you into his side the moment you reach him.

Your hands are shaking, but you have no control over them as your fingers curl in his white t-shirt, clinging to him. To your surprise, the arm around your shoulders hugs you closer in response, thumb caressing you.

“Thanks for making sure she got home safely,” he tosses over his shoulder, managing to make the simple sentence sound like an insult, tone bordering on patronizing, while he turns on his heel, marching you both inside.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you’re rushing to say the moment the front door shuts behind you two, Touya’s arm still wrapped firmly around you.

He looks down at you coldly. “Don’t you dare pull shit like that again,” he tells you, eerily calm voice forcing spikes of icy dread up your spine. He pauses for a moment, letting his words sink in as his eyes bore into yours. “You had me worried sick,” he breathes out then, squeezing you again. You’re surprised in the sudden change of tone, feeling your chest swell at the thought of him fretting over you, a small smile gracing your lips.

“I…I did?”

Touya’s eyebrows furrow, as if he’s offended at your questioning, mood morphing in the span of a second. “Of course you fucking did,” he spits like you’re stupid, arm dropping. “Do you ever check your phone?”

“Wh-What?”

Touya rolls his eyes. “Check your phone,” he calls out airily as he begins walking into the kitchen, shaking his head a little, disappointment rolling off him in waves.

Hastily fishing your phone out of your bag, you’re astonished to see eight texts from him and three missed calls. You scroll through the texts quickly, each one making you feel more nauseous than the next. ‘Is everything okay? You should’ve been home by now’; ‘Please answer me, princess, you’re making your niichan nervous’; ‘Where are you? Answer my fucking calls already’. Guilt turns sour in your mouth and you hurry after him.

“I-I really am s-so sorry,” you force the words out, unsure as to why there are suddenly tears stinging your eyes. He isn’t even doing anything—his back is facing you as he nonchalantly begins brewing a pot of coffee.

But the thought of him being upset with you, of losing his approval, sends a sharp pain searing through your chest.

“Are you?” he asks, and although his voice holds no malice in it, it causes your whole body to stutter with a harsh breath.

“Yes,” you whimper out, latching onto his arm and tugging in an attempt to draw his eyes to yours, to see how regretful you are, the remorse written across your face. “I should’ve…That was so careless and inconsiderate of me,”

“It was,” he agrees simply, voice still light, as if he’s discussing something as mundane as the weather. “But you’ll never do it again, right?”

“Right,” you agree readily, breathing out the word before you even realize what you’re agreeing to.

“Tell niichan you’ll never worry him like that again,” he finally looks over at you.

“I-I’ll never worry you like that again, niichan, I pr-promise,”

His eyes hold yours for what feels like eons, before he finally twists his arm out of your grasp, instead wrapping it around you and tugging you against his body. You stay staring up at him, eyes wide and obedient, breath bated as you wait for your next order, so pliant and ready to serve him.

“Good,” he whispers, eyes finally softening, and you feel like you can breathe properly again. His free hand cups your face, thumb running along your lips, then your chin, then your jaw. “You want to be good for me, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Of course,” you respond instantly. Later, you’ll lay awake in your bed, feeling ashamed by your actions, by how readily captivated you were with him, by how easily he was able to manipulate you with those sapphire eyes and that rough voice—

But in that moment, you’ll do anything to pull that little smile from him, anything to hear him tell you you’re good. You just want to be good.

Something dark and primal flashes in those gorgeous eyes as they gaze down at you, a small grin spreading across his face. “Of course,” he repeats softly.

✰ ✰ ✰

He begins to trust you more. You meet his friends, each one terrifying in their own right. Jin is alright, although his brain is fried from drugs, and he talks to and contradicts himself a lot, earning the nickname Twice from Tomura.

Tomura horrifies you to your very core—a tall, lanky man with sunken red eyes and sickly pale skin who looks like he’s one bad day away from death—and Touya tells you very sternly to stay away from him.

A university student not unlike yourself, Keigo is your favourite. Keigo is the most normal, with his wild blonde hair and enticing gold eyes that always look like they’re playfully holding the secrets of the universe just out of your grasp.

Keigo’s brain is always going a hundred miles a minute, although you’d never guess it with his trademark lazy drawl, speaking as if he hasn’t got a care in the world. But he can always keep a conversation going, knows exactly what to say to avoid awkward silences or lulls in the discussion, and you appreciate that. You think he’s so cool—he has so much knowledge about the oddest things, everything and anything, ‘a walking encyclopedia’, Tomura calls it, and it fascinates you to no end.

It’s the speed, Touya tells you one night while you’re laying on the couch, your body on top of his, the pads of his fingers dragging down your back in rhythmic strokes. Speed is Keigo’s drug of choice, you find out. Speed is the reason why Keigo knows as much as he does.

“Sometimes he doesn’t sleep for days,” Touya says. “That’s how he has all the time to memorize everything he knows—though that big overactive brain of his plays a part in it, too,”

The thought inexplicably makes your heart sink in your chest, and you don’t say anything else. If Touya notices your shift in mood, he doesn’t mention it. You idly wonder what Touya’s drug of choice is, but you’re too scared of the answer to ask.

✰ ✰ ✰

It’s only a few nights later when you wake with a violent jolt, breathing laboured as you absentmindedly press your palm to your chest, trying in vain to calm your racing heart.

A nightmare.

You sit in silence for a moment, listening to the sound of your own harsh breaths echoing off the walls and debating what to do next. A minute later, you swing your legs over the side of the bed, wincing when your bare feet touch the cold hardwood, and pad down the hallway.

You try to trick yourself into believing that you aren’t using this purely as an excuse to spend the night with him. It really was so scary, you reason with yourself, it really has made you all shaken up…

Who are you kidding? You didn’t even attempt to go back to sleep.

You’ve been in his room plenty of times now—sitting daintily on his bed as he introduces you to new music, new movies, new books. Stuff that reminds him of you, he says, stuff that he thought you might be interested in. You’re grateful for it; there are so many things you’ve learned in the short time you’ve known him.

That isn’t all, though. There’s no denying the warmth that spreads through your body, that tiny excited flutter in your chest, when he calls your name and interlaces your fingers, leading you toward his room and telling you he’s got something to show you.

Yes, you’ve been in his room plenty of times now. But this is the first time you spend the night in his bed.

He’s still up, soft golden light leaking from under his closed bedroom door. Your hand quivers a little as you lift it to rap your knuckles against the wood. He appears in the doorway a moment later, leaning against the frame in a black t-shirt that looks like it’s a size or two too small for him, riding up to reveal a teasing sliver of milky skin, tips of his hipbones jutting out from the waistband of his plaid pajama pants.

“Princess? What is it?”

You didn’t realize you were staring, and you jump a little at his gravelly voice.

“Oh. I, um—Well, I just…had a nightmare a-and I can’t sleep,”

You can barely look him in the eyes as you say it, your cheeks burning. You both know it’s a lie.

But he plays along.

“Aw, baby,” he coos, drawing you into his arms, into his room, into his bed.

“You’re trembling,” he murmurs as he turns on his side to face you, propping his head up with a hand. “Poor thing. Was it a bad one?”

Your mouth feels like its been stuffed with cotton, rendering you incapable of speech, tongue dry and sluggish. You nod in response, heat seeping into your cheeks again at just how loudly your heart is thumping while you roll onto your side. There’s only a few inches of space between your bodies now, his hot breath fanning across your face as he speaks again.

“Do you want niichan to help you forget about it?”

The question hangs heavy in the air, and you suck your bottom lip into your mouth, eyes searching his. Your thighs squeeze together at the way his voice has dropped an octave, low and husky, familiar heat pooling in the depths of your belly. He waits patiently, lifting a hand to caress your cheek, then runs his fingertips down your bare arm, goosebumps following.

Finally, you nod. You think you see the corners of his lips quirk up into the slightest hint of a smirk, but you blink, and it’s gone.

“Here,” he whispers, hooking an arm around your waist and pulling you against him. Hand cupping your jaw, he tilts your face up and slots his mouth against yours.

You’ve kissed before, of course—in his bed, in yours, on the living room couch, on the kitchen counter with his hips shoved between your thighs—but this…this feels different.

These are kisses with intent, with purpose, with a goal in mind. These are kisses that keep you distracted—slow, soft, messy with saliva—as his hand slips down your body and between your thighs.

Your gasp breaks the kiss, wide eyes blinking up at him then fluttering shut as he brushes a knuckle against your clit. He hushes you, nimble fingers spreading your folds before he drags them up your slit, huffing out a laugh at how wet you already are.

“Were you thinking about something naughty before?” he gasps mockingly, sliding the pads of his fingers back down as he speaks.

His hand withdraws from your shorts and he orders you to lift your hips, tugging the waistband down your thighs. You squirm a little, forcing them further down your legs until you free yourself of them completely, eyes gazing up at him again, awaiting your next command.

Legs part dutifully as his hand travels back down to the apex of your thighs, pushing a finger into your soaking pussy.

It’s slow at first, thrusting leisurely with his middle finger a few times and loosening you up a little before adding his ring finger. Sapphire eyes watch his motions, captivated by how your eager little cunt sucks his fingers in selfishly.

“Look at that, huh?” he breathes, looking down at you. “Such a pretty little pussy you’ve got,”

You open your bleary eyes to peer at yourself, mesmerized by the way his fingers are pumping in and out of you, glistening in the dim light of his bedroom. He curls his fingers and you inhale sharply, hips twitching toward his palm.

“Oh?” he chuckles darkly, knuckles nudging the spot again. “Did niichan find something, baby?”

You don’t know, you’re not sure, you try to tell him, but all you can seem to manage is pathetic little whines while you nod your head.

“Have you ever touched yourself?” he’s asking as the pads of his fingers tap against that spot, your entire body jolting.

“Y-Yes,” you whimper out, a little breathlessly. “But it’s never felt like this,”

“Aw, baby,” he coos, and it’s so condescending. “Then you weren’t doing it right, sweetheart,”

He quickens his pace, chuckles at the way you try to desperately fuck yourself on his fingers at such an awkward angle.

“Poor little thing, can’t even get herself off properly,” he tsks. “You need your niichan to do it for you, don’t you?”

Soft whines spill from your throat as you nod eagerly, your stomach coiling tightly.

“One day,” he breathes, curling his fingers with a vengeance this time, your hips rolling up off the mattress. “When we have the time, I’ll teach you how to make yourself feel so good,”

He’s talking too much. You want to tell him this, tell him to shut the hell up, but every time you try to speak he presses the heel of his palm to your clit and grinds against it, effectively scattering all of your thoughts, soft mewls of niichan the only sound escaping your lips.

Can’t deny his voice is fucking hot though, a form of foreplay all on its own.

And he knows this, can read you like a goddamn book, especially when he’s got his fingers two knuckles deep inside of you. He can feel it, he tells you. You don’t even need to speak; he can feel your thoughts when his voice drops an octave and your cute little hole flutters, when he chuckles and your pussy clenches around his fingers—a slut for his voice, aren’t you?

“Pretty baby, you can’t do anything but nod dumbly, can you? Been fucked stupid by my fingers alone, huh?”

Your head barely moves, lost all control of your body by this point, only able to whimper in response.

“Gonna come all over my fingers, pretty girl?” the knuckle of his thumb begins grazing your clit in quick strokes. “C’mon, make a mess for niichan,”

And it’s pathetic, how quickly your body obeys. Your pussy squeezes once, twice, three times and you’re gushing all over his fingers, juices collecting in his palm, running down his wrist. You’re embarrassed—you’ve never cum that much before, have you?

Breathing still ragged, you nuzzle into his sheets, partially hiding your face from him. Nothing could hide the involuntary grin that forms on your lips, though. Arms snake under your boneless body, tugging a bit.

“Oh no, baby, we aren’t done yet,” Touya’s saying while he hoists you up, letting you lean heavily against him.

Head tilting in confusion, your glazed eyes find his. “Wh-What?”

He looks down at his lap and your gaze follows, a tiny whimper slipping past your lips at the bulge straining against his pants. “Doesn’t niichan deserve a nice reward for helping you forget that scary dream?”

Eyes darting back to his, you nod slowly, whispering out, “Yes. But—But…” But you’re hesitant; you’ve never done anything like this before. Shaking hands reach for the waistband of his pants, beginning to pull them down but freezing when the head of his cock peeks out.

Touya sighs. “Come on, you wanna be a good girl for niichan, don’t you?”

Of course. Of courses you do.

Then he wants you to touch him, he says. He’ll help you; he promises.

“But you gotta get it wet first,”

You ask how, and he laughs at you. “With your tongue, stupid,” he tells you.

He instructs you to kneel on the floor and you comply immediately, trembling legs folding beneath your body as you situate yourself between his knees. He inches forward on the bed a little, shuffling himself to the edge and caging you between his thighs. Bringing his cock close to your mouth, he taps the head against your closed lips.

They part instantly, obediently, his eyes flashing with something sinister as you take the head into your mouth and suck hesitantly, big eyes staring up at him waiting for approval.

He curses, his hips twitching ever so slightly, skin stretched taut over bony knuckles as a hand forms a fist in the sheets. Starting with kitten licks at first, the tip of your tongue barely touches him, tracing veins, then begins to gain more confidence as he groans a little, telling you what to you, that you’re doing good, so good for him.

Watching him through thick lashes, you have the audacity to look bashful as your tongue laves around the shaft, drenching it in saliva. A hand tangles in your hair and yanks, pulling you off his cock when he decides it’s sufficiently wet enough. Long fingers encircle your wrist, bringing your hand to form a fist around him.

“Like this,” he says, jerking your hand up and down.

You’re terrible at it, movements awkward and uncoordinated, but in that moment he doesn’t really care. He’s irritated a little, wondering out loud how anyone can be bad at handjobs while a large hand wraps around yours and forces you to speed up. Bad? Your heart sinks at the small three letter word, a hard lump forming in your throat, looking as though you may start crying.

But he cums quickly after that, ropes of searing hot white painting your cheeks and face. You watch him the entire time, panting a little, lips parted slightly and your tongue darts out to lick them, tasting him.

He laughs at your bitter reaction, and it’s such a patronizing sound.

“Don’t worry,” he says, collecting the cum off your face and forcing his fingers into your mouth. “Someday I’ll stuff your throat full of it.”

✰ ✰ ✰

You can no longer mention needing—no, wanting—anything around him anymore, because within the next few days it’s sitting pretty and perfect on your bed, propped up against your lace trimmed pillows.

He’s so good to you; you should be grateful you have such a generous niichan, one who eats you out and spoils you with gifts. You’re so spoiled.

And he tells you this, in the dead of night when you wake to find him shoving his cock into you, snarling a little at your soft whines of protest.

“Don’t be a brat,” he warns. Just be a good girl and take his cock. He does so much for you, can’t you be good for him?

Yes, yes, you want to be good for him, you want to be the best for him.

By this point you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve woken up in the middle of the night with his head between your thighs, prepping you to take him.

“Stay sleeping, baby,” he’ll tell you, words whispered into your hair as his cockhead nudges against your hole.

As if you could ever stay sleeping when only a few minutes later he’s pounding you into oblivion, large hand clasped over your mouth so tightly his blunt nails are digging into your cheek, so hard that it’s yanking your head back, neck beginning to ache.

He tells you to be quiet, “You don’t want anyone to hear, do you? Then we’d have to stop, and you don’t want that, right, sweetheart?”

You don’t, you whimper. Of course you don’t—you want whatever he wants, you want to be his perfect little baby, you want to be told how good you take his cock, the praise mumbled against your skin in a low, strained voice right before he fills you with cum.

✰ ✰ ✰

He disappears for a few days near the end of December. You have no idea where, Touya answering your curious texts with playful quips at first before he grows tired of it and tells you to stop fucking asking.

But eventually, he returns.

The front door slams shut and your body flinches with a jolt of excitement. Adrenaline spikes your blood when you hear his heavy boots colliding with the hardwood, getting louder, louder, louder…

He passes right by you, not glancing at you at all. Moments later, the sound of water hitting the tiled shower wall echoes down the hallway.

And you wait. Patiently, you wait, like the good little girl you are, not daring to move a muscle. Eventually he re-emerges, hair still damp, a few strands sticking to his neck.

With a groan, he collapses on the couch next to you, flopping his head into your lap and gazing up at you with glazed, blown sapphire eyes.

“You’re high,” you say softly, not accusatory, just an observation. He giggles a little.

“So what if I am?”

“What did you take?”

“Oh,” he gasps mockingly. “Oh no, baby, I can’t tell you that,”

Why? The question is burning on the tip of your tongue, and you can tell that he’s anticipating that to be your next response, but you bite down on your bottom lip, holding it in. You know his answer already, can practically hear his patronizing voice—Because good baby sisters aren’t supposed to know about stuff like this.

“Can I try some?” you ask instead.

All of the mirth fades from his eyes in an instant, and he moves in a flash despite his inebriated state, so quick you can barely tell what’s happening. His large hand wraps around your bicep in a bruising grasp, pulling you towards him as he sits up, his face an inch away from yours.

“Absolutely fucking not,” he spits, cobalt eyes blazing and voice rumbling against your chest. “And if I so much as catch wind that you’re using, have a mere feeling that you’ve tried it—even just once—I’ll slaughter you and the fucker you got it from. Do you understand me?”

Surprised tears spring into your eyes and you nod jerkily, body beginning to tremble as your breath gets caught in your throat. You want to tell him that you didn’t mean it, honest, you promise!; that you were just kidding around, you swear!, but you can’t, voice mangling itself with the hitched little breaths on the back of your tongue.

He growls at your silence, his grip around your arm tightening and you cry out, terrified that he might actually crush the bone with his bare hand.

“Say, yes Touya, I understand,”

“Y-Yes Touya, I understand,” you manage to stutter out, voice returning only at the command of a direct order, tears spilling over and rolling down your cheeks in pairs. His eyes search your face for a moment, his features contorted in fury, before he sneers at you, squeezing your arm once then roughly letting go, shoving you away from him.

You fall backward against the arm of the couch, heart thumping so vigorously you’re sure he can hear it. He groans, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, exasperated.

“Fuck,” he sighs, eyes opening to glare at the ceiling. “You’ve ruined my high,”

You stare at him, breath coming out in uneven huffs, clinging to the couch.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, terrified to move lest you upset him more.

He’s silent for a moment, still staring up, until he lolls his head to the side, glancing at you through the corner of his eye. A small smirk spreads across his face.

“C’mere,” he says, nodding his head a little in indication.

“Wh-What?”

“C’mere,” he repeats. “Come make it up to me,”

Your body’s moving before you’ve given it permission to, crawling into his lap obediently, thighs on either side of his hips. His smirk widens, and you love it—you love how much control he has over you without even trying, you love the way a quiet whimper slips through your lips as his large hands begin kneading your flesh, running up your legs and grabbing your ass.

Lips trail up the column of your neck, and you tilt your head back, a silent plea for more. You can feel the way his lips curl into a grin against your skin, nipping at it a second later.

“So, how you gonna make it up to me? Huh?” he shifts his hips under you, pressing his hard cock into your clothed core. You whine a little, grinding against him.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” you breathe out while sharp teeth mar your collarbone.

“The hell you waiting for? Show me,”

You begin sliding down his body and he pushes on your shoulders, forcing you to your knees between his spread thighs. He watches you through half-lidded eyes, gaping pupils outlined by a thin ring of blue.

Holding his gaze, you lean forward with your pretty little tongue hanging out and begin licking along the straining bulge, tracing it slowly, the denim rough against your sensitive muscle. You relent though, lapping at his clothed cock in slow, long strokes, and his jeans are just thin enough for you to feel him pulse in response.

A giggle bubbles up past your lips, muffled by the denim, already beginning to feel heady as you pull simple reactions from him. Your mouth forms a cute little ‘o’ and you suck on him the best you can through his jeans, drooling all over his lap and soaking through the material.

The hand in your hair tightens into a fist, yanking hard and pulling your mouth away. “Stop fucking teasing,” he warns, a hint of something ominous in his voice.

You obey, because you always obey, tiny fingers working to quickly unbuckle his belt, pop the button, yank down the zipper. He aids you, lifting his hips and allowing you to tug his jeans down his thighs enough for his cock to spring out.

His own hand wraps around the shaft, you pausing mid-action as you reach for it.

“Open,” he demands, your dutiful lips parting immediately, letting him push his cock into the warm, wet cavern.

He sets a brutal, punishing pace from the start, refusing to give you a single moment to adjust. His other hand fists in your hair, forcing you to stay still as he rams his cock down your throat.

Reflexive tears burn your eyes, blurring your vision. You blink quickly to clear them, desperate to watch him, to catalogue all of his micro-expressions and the sound of his voice as he grunts out your name, to burn it into your mind, etch it into your very soul.

Touya’s head falls back against the couch, Adams apple bobbling with his rough whimpers, long neck and sharp collarbone on full display. If your mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied, you’d love to lick up his smooth skin, to trace the dips of his collarbone with your tongue and sign your name in brilliant splotches of blue and purple.

You’re gagging around his cock now, starting to feel lightheaded and struggling to inhale enough oxygen. The ache in your jaw is beginning to spread, but you ignore it, stretching your mouth open wider, to take more, to be good for him, to make him proud. It’s worth it for the hoarse, throaty moans you’re pulling from him, to hear your name shuddered out, followed by a breathy, “Fuck,”

He forces hot cum down your throat a moment later, and you choke on it, sputtering around his cock, throat spasming as it tries to force the foreign object out. He won’t let it, though. He holds your head in place, nose pressed against his pubic bone, and you can do nothing but take it, like a good little girl, like he tells you to.

But it’s all worth it. It’s all worth it, to hear his broken whines like that, to have him look down at you and pull your hair and tell you you’re good, so good for him.

And you’re sobbing by the end of it, gasping for air the moment he lets go of you, wheezing violently as your head collapses against his thigh.

“Did I—” you cough, voice raspy from having your throat fucked raw, “—Did I make it up to you, niichan?” you gaze up at him, eyelashes spiky with residual water. You’re the perfect picture of obedience, strands of hair stuck to your face where your salty tears have dried and swollen lips gleaming with saliva as you watch him with glittering eyes, waiting desperately for his praise.

He looks down at you, eyes devious and diabolical, chest heaving a little. “Of course you did,” he tells you, corners of his lips tugging up into a sharp smirk as you melt into him. “You always do, don’t you?”

#todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya #dabi x reader #dabi smut #touya x reader #dabi may be a scumbag but he loves his momma #tomura baby i’m so sorry #promise u don’t horrify me at all oof #pls come horrify me more #christ if dabi isn’t touya we’re all gonna look like goddamn fools #a buncha clowns #anyway this is my first time posting something like this #n i haven’t written smut in an extremely long time #so pls be nice #actually u should always be nice #so pls be extra nice #no one beta’d this so there’s a good chance i’ll come back to it n revise it or whatever idk i’m just sick of looking at it rn #the ‘he talks too much’ is inspired by ch 271 w hawks where he’s all ‘he’ll keep talking’#dabi shut the fuck up challenge #prone to monologuing this boy is #also sorry abt the crazy sentences with a thousand commas #apparently now i’m oscar wilde w these run on sentences #idk i still kinda like em tho #i like oscar #tw pseudo-incest #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw emotional manipulation #tw somnophilia #tw drugs

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