#navs.mha

[mianavs]

Macabre

Dabi x f!reader, quirkless au

tw: dark content, smut, extremely dubcon/noncon, kidnapping, implied imprisonment

a/n: so i lied about only writing one Halloween themed piece. here’s a fic based on dabi brainrot

wc: 1.7k+

tg: @hqintheclub @planetonet @anime-central​ 

You came looking for a thrill. Excitement to stir up your monotonous life. You wanted to feel surges of adrenaline coursing through your bloodstream to remind you that you were alive and not just another corporate zombie. So, when your friends sent you the website link to an 18+ haunted corn maze, you skimmed through the consent waiver and didn't hesitate in signing it and buying your ticket.

But what awaited there was beyond anything you ever imagined.

It started out as a standard haunted experience with you and your friends making your way through the maze huddled together and shivering—whether it was from the cold or the fear you couldn’t tell—with only a couple of flashlights to guide you through the otherwise pitch black maze. There was standard creepy atmospheric music blasting through loudspeakers and disembodied screams from other participants within the towering corn stalk walls spread across 10 acres of land. The actors in the maze were also nothing special compared to the other haunted houses you’d been to.

In fact, the only truly scary aspect of the experience was the possibility of getting lost, something you’d been very much open to if it meant you would get the thrill of your life.

You and your friends had been in the maze for what seemed like hours, and your legs were starting to tire, exhaustion ebbing away at the excitement you’d felt in the beginning. Then, just when you were about to consider giving up, a crazed zombie-like man with a chainsaw appeared out of nowhere and chased after your group. It was then that your heart thundered furiously in your chest as you took off running, legs burning from the sudden strain. Everything felt so real as you bounded down the maze laughing nervously while your friends screamed in terror. 

You were so high on adrenaline that you failed to keep track of your friends that disappeared around a corner. The realization you’d been left behind dampened somewhat your excitement but it wasn’t until you plummeted to the ground that fear rose to the surface.

It was a harsh fall that cut your hands and bruised your knees. Besides the pulsating in your ear and the loud roar of the chainsaw, an ugly cackle straight out of a horror movie rang through the chaos. You scrambled to get on your hands and knees to reach for your flashlight before turning around to face the villain that’d managed to scare you.

He was tall with wild black hair that shot in all directions and chilling blue eyes that shined in the night. It was his makeup, however, that made him terrifying. He had, what appeared to be, marred maroon flesh under his eyes, over his ears, and from his mouth all the way down to his chest that was attached to his normal skin by staples. He was unlike any horror movie creature you’d ever seen yet seemed to have walked straight out of a child’s worst nightmare.

At that moment, you weren’t thinking about getting out of the maze or finding your friends. The only thing on your mind was pure unadulterated fear as a result of the person before you that seemed less like an actor and more like a crazed murderer.

You scrambled backwards in a weak attempt to get away but the man only laughed an ugly laugh before swinging his weapon at you and tossing it into one of the maze’s walls. It tore at the corn stalks and your blood went frigid at the realization that it was indeed a real chainsaw.

A scream tore through your throat as he took you by the hair and dragged you away through one of the maze’s walls. You closed your eyes as he dragged you through rough corn leaves that scratched your face as the two of you plowed through. You continued to scream and struggle against his unrelenting hold, but when you finally managed to claw at his hand, his other one landed a blow to the side of your face that painted your vision black.

A splash of cold water is what woke you up with a gasp. You found yourself in a small dirty cabin with your back against a wall and hands bound together and above your head by what appeared to be a rope hanging from the ceiling. Shivering from the chilly autumn air and frigid water that you’d been doused in, you scanned the poorly lit room for your abductor, knowing well enough that this wasn’t a part of the haunt

“Well? How about it?” A disembodied voice spoke. “Is this scary enough for you? Heard you bitching and moaning the entire time.”

The hideous man stepped into the sliver of moonlight and tears welled up in your eyes when you saw the glint of a blade in his hand.

“P-please, let me go.” You begged, tugging on your restraints. “I-I won’t tell anyone! I swear!”

“I know you won’t,” he drawled, stepping closer, “because you won’t be seeing anyone, ever.”

His threatening promise set off your fight or flight reflex that had you kicking and screaming like a captured animal. It wasn’t until you heard a swishing noise and felt the press of the cold blade against your neck that you stopped your struggle.

“You gonna start behaving like a good girl?” He added pressure to his blade until you felt a sting.

“Yes,” you stressed, trying not to move your neck too much. “I-I’ll be a g-good girl.”

His face drew closer and you could see the maniacal shine in his cool blue orbs, smell the tobacco on his clothes, and see that his makeup wasn’t makeup at all but his own skin, marred and held together by genuine staples.

“My good girl?” He asked, his voice a low rumble as his hot breath tickled your face.

“Wha–”

He silenced you with his lips and swallowed your unspoken words. Dropping his knife, he pushed you against the wall as his tongue assaulted your mouth, taking everything you had to offer. His kiss was harsh and violent but it sent twisted waves of desire down to your core. He had no right making you so aroused but your carnal instincts overpowered all logic and you found yourself moaning into his bruising kiss. Your lips moved in tandem with his and your tongue swiped over his disfigured lower lip, eliciting a groan from him, before sliding against his own.

He broke the kiss just when you started feeling lightheaded and black spots clouded your vision. A clear string of saliva stretched between the two of you as you caught your breaths. Between his heavy breathing, darkened piercing eyes, and macabre appearance, a familiar dull ache built up between your legs to your horror.

As if he'd read your mind, his hands went to work undoing the button and zipper of your pants before dragging them down over your hips, thighs, and finally over your kicking feet. The cold air against your bare legs sent shivers down your spine as he tossed your pants to the side and stood up.

“Stop! W-what are you doing?!”

His hand shot forward and cupped your clothed crotch, eliciting a strangled cry from you. He watched your reaction with lidded eyes and a smirk.

“I’m just giving you what you want, brave girl.”

Not trusting your voice, you bit your lip and shook your head as tears trailed down your face. At your stubbornness, he merely tutted before taking a step forward and latching his lips onto your neck while he rubbed circles over your clit with his thumb. As his teeth bit into your sensitive skin and his tongue soothed over the marks, he worked you up to an orgasm that erupted when he gave your throbbing clit a couple of harsh slaps.

You cried out as you came hard into your soaked panties while your captor merely whistled and greedily took in your teary and disheveled appearance.

“What a messy cunt you’ve got.” He laughed, the sound grating to your ears, as he rubbed a finger over your clothed slit. “Should we make it an even bigger mess?”

Without giving you a chance to protest, he pushed your panties to the side and delved three digits into your tight hot cunt. You let out a strangled cry and arched your back from the sudden intrusion. He was merciless in his assault and furiously pumped his fingers inside your sopping wet cunt. Unlike his previous ministrations, he didn’t let you cum on his fingers and pulled them out last minute, drawing a frustrated whine from your lips.

“W-why did y– AH!”

Before you could finish your question, He kicked your legs apart and guided his erect cock to your cunt. It prodded at your entrance once before he sheathed himself completely; a low groan escaping his mouth and a cry of pain leaving yours.

He didn’t give you any time to adjust to his size and merely wrapped his large hands around your legs before lifting you up against the wall. At your sudden suspended position, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his torso to ease the pain in your arms.

“Good girl,” he groaned into your ear. “See, you do want this.”

He proceeded to pull his cock out almost entirely before slamming it back in, your back hitting the wall with a loud thud. Indifferent to the stabbing pain in your back, he rammed into your cunt and settled into a fast rhythm that eventually blurred the line between pain and pleasure. Tears streamed down your face but moans left your lips with each harsh drag of his cock against your fleshy walls.

Overstimulated, you came even more violently than before, trembling as liquid gushed from your sex and coated your conjoined bodies. He came shortly afterward, shooting his release deep into your cunt before it trickled out and coated your inner thighs still wrapped around him.

Thoroughly fucked and exhausted, you let your body go limp in his grasp and let your head fall back against the wall. You couldn’t fight him anymore and wondered if this was your punishment for not appreciating your comfortable life. Once again, he seemed to have the ability to read your mind like a demon of some sort.

“This scary enough for you, brave girl?” His hoarse voice whispered into your ear. “How about I keep you with me and make you mine. Turn everyday into a living horror movie for ya.”

#dabi smut #mha smut #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #mha x reader #mha x y/n #dabi x reader smut #mha x reader smut #mha dabi #tw dark content #tw dubcon #tw noncon #navs.mha

[mianavs]

Endeaver x f!reader

i’ve listening to Biggie on repeat (this song in particular) and i just CANNOT stop thinking about hitting the club in the mid-90s and grinding on a younger Enji Todoroki while it plays in the background. so here’s the product of my horny thoughts during my work break about my favorite mha dilf where he discovers he has a breeding kink.

tw: breeding, bathroom sex

wc: 300

A couple of songs and with enough liquid courage, you follow him to the bathroom where he presses you against the door and finger fucks you until you’re creaming on his hand and wrist. And when you’re trembling and holding on to his massive shoulders, he unzips and lowers his pants just enough for you to see his massive cock and breeding balls that look even better than they’d felt pressing up against your ass. He’ll lift you up with his large and rough hands and you’ll hook your arms around his thick neck and impale yourself on his cock. Your eagerness makes him lose whatever little patience he has and will proceed to fuck you in that dirty bathroom like the slut you are. His massive length and girth make it so that each time he pulls out and slams back in, your insides are still tight enough for you to feel every ridge and vein of his cock. When you’re close to coming, you’ll sink your nails into his back and while moaning and whining in his ear. After a couple more deep thrusts, you’ll come with a shriek. Your cum will gush out and drip on the floor but Enji will continue knowing what he wants. He’ll shift your position until he’s hitting the entrance of your womb and fuck you through your orgasm until you’re overstimulated and crying. When he does come, you’ll squeeze every last drop of cum he has to offer until you’re filled up so much that it drips down your leg when he pulls out. It’s only after he sees you thoroughly fucked out and dripping with his seed that Enji realizes he has a breeding kink.

#endeavor x reader #enji todoroki x reader #mha x reader #endeavor smut #mha smut #enji todoroki #enji todoroki smut #endeavor #tw: breeding #navs.mha

[mianavs]

tamaki fluff x transmasc reader just cuddling and stuff (lots of pretty boys and head pats )

a/n: mostly fluff with some implied gender dysphoria but nothing too major. It's my first time writing a transmasc reader but i hope you like it :)

wc: 458

Lazy Sunday afternoons are Tamaki's favorite. There is no place he'd rather be than cuddling with you in your shared living room. It's the perfect end to a stressful week for the always busy Pro Hero. From the gentle sunlight streaming in through the curtained windows to the fresh lingering scent of your shampoo, Tamaki wouldn't change a thing about his day-off routine.

“Hmmm, should we watch the newest Netflix craze?” You mumble, remote in hand and browsing through the titles on the popular streaming service.

Tamaki presses your back against his chest and buries his face in your neck. “Anything you pick is fine with me.”

You chuckle at that before clicking on the title. “You always say that but fall asleep after an hour.”

“I won't this time.” He mumbles against your shoulder. “I promise”

You only hum in response before setting down the remote and getting comfortable between Tamaki's legs as the opening scene starts.

It doesn't take long for his chin to take its place on your shoulder as he watches the screen. He finds the position perfect for watching TV and keeping you in his arms.

An hour passes and Tamaki is surprisingly still awake when you start playing with his hand. You lace your smaller fingers between his larger ones and bring your conjoined fingers to your lap. You trace over his palm, callouses, and fingers before placing your hand over his and comparing the two.

He doesn't have to see you to know what expression you have. Your brows knit together in frustration, teeth working your bottom lip, and eyes glazed over. He knows exactly what you're thinking about but doesn't intervene right away, giving you the chance to fight off the invasive thoughts.

But when he feels your shaky intake of breath, he takes your hand and gingerly presses kisses on each of your fingers.

"You're perfect in my eyes," he affirms, turning your head to face him. "Never doubt that."

You blink away the tears and shoot him a grateful smile that tells Tamaki he has succeeded in chasing away any doubts you had regarding your appearance; a role he's more than willing to fulfill if it means his beloved boyfriend feels validated and loved.

In the end, it's you who ends up falling asleep first as the credits roll on the screen. Your head rests on Tamaki's lap as your chest expands and contracts with each lulling breath you take. Glancing over at your face, there's a peaceful smile on your lips that mirrors the one on his face.

Turning his attention back to the TV that's already playing another title, Tamaki runs his fingers through your hair over and over again, wishing lazy Sunday afternoons would last forever.

#tamaki amajiki #tamaki x reader #ftm reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #tamaki fluff #mha x reader #mha x transmasc reader #tamaki x male reader #mha x male reader #transmasc reader #mha fluff #navs.request #navs.mha

[mianavs]

Making Drama

Shoto Todoroki x f!reader

a/n: a sfw enemies/rivals to lovers that’s full of fluff and shitty humor. basically, f!reader is a dramatic goof and shoto is oblivious but doing his best. for @rosesandtoshi​‘s ‘Enemies to Lovers’ collab~ here’s a playlist for the fic

ty: to the wonderful and talented @yamigooops​ for beta reading and saving my ass. love you so much!

wc: 8.1k+

If you had to pinpoint the exact moment your life went to the dogs, it would’ve had to have been that miserably failed mission during your internship at Endeavor Agency. You were a promising second-year student at U.A, and as a result, you’d been selected to intern at the agency of your childhood hero, Endeavor. What should have been a dream come true, however, quickly turned into a nightmare thanks to your upperclassman and son of said hero, Shoto Todoroki.

During a particularly hectic day, the two of you had been sent out to deal with a situation Burnin described as ‘easier than rolling off a log’—which is exactly how it would have been if Todoroki hadn’t forgotten to drink his ‘respect women juice’ that morning. He spent the entire day criticizing and underestimating your abilities to the point of shoving you aside. Needless to say, you weren’t thrilled about being demoted to an annoying bystander by a fellow U.A student, and your anger got the best of you. It was then that the mission went to shit with the two of you too preoccupied in arguing and trying to one-up each other. In the end, the only thing proved was your inability to work as a team that resulted in a handful of injured civilians, a mob of outraged bystanders, and the villains escaping.

As if the shame of failing a simple rescue mission wasn’t enough, you were also the victim of blatant nepotism when you alone bore the brunt of the aftermath, as was decided by one Enji Todoroki. You didn’t hesitate to quit your internship after the brief but stifling press conference at the agency’s headquarters. You then went home to shred—not burn—the one Endeavor poster you kept hung inside the door of your wardrobe closet.

What you hoped would be the last of your involvement with the Endeavor Agency turned out to only be the beginning. After suffering that devastating blow to your reputation, you were fortunate enough to get signed by a small hero agency after graduation. Over the course of four years, you worked hard alongside your coworkers and president to transform your little agency into a respectable mid-tier one. Your agency’s growth was a feat you took great pride in, and the fact that it took place amid the monopolization craze of hero agencies, made it that much more significant—or so you thought.

Because just when the craze was dying down, and you sincerely believed your agency had weathered the storm, the president that you’d once considered family ran off with a fat check after selling your agency and its hero contracts to the Endeavor Agency.

“H/N!”

You barely set a heeled foot out of the taxi, when your co-worker cheerfully calls out to you alongside the other heroes from your old agency. As you approach the group, you can’t help but feel underdressed upon seeing that they have pulled out all the stops when it comes to their outfits for the evening. They are dressed to the nines in their crisp tuxedos and floor-length gowns while you opted for last year's New Year’s party dress, clutch, and heels.

“Don’t you all look great!” You declare with a grin that you hope hides your embarrassment.

“Hey, it’s not every day that the Endeavor Agency throws a party in our honor.” One of them says and the rest of them nod and agree enthusiastically.

“Yes, I suppose it’s not every day that your agency gets bought out under suspicious circumstances by the largest agency in the country and they have to resort to some huge PR event to divert the press’ attention.” You bite back bitterly and the group goes silent. “You guys have to admit there was some under-the-table dealing going on between Endeavor Agency and that traitor. Speaking of which, has anyone even heard from him?”

They shake their heads and exchange glances amongst themselves as the festive mood turns sour after your tirade.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself before speaking. “Sorry guys, I don’t mean to be a buzzkill, but I’m still coming to terms with this situation. I knew I should’ve just stayed home.”

“Nonsense!” Your senior cuts in and wraps an arm around you. “Given your past at this agency, it's understandable that you’re a bit hesitant about this, but you’re not alone! We’re all in this togeth��� OH MY GOD is that Chargebolt?!”

In a second, your so-called “allies” chase after the famous hero, leaving you disappointed but not surprised. Straightening your back, you tip your head up and take in the skyscraper hotel where the party is taking place before making your way through the throng of people huddled outside the front steps.

The hotel is unlike any building you’ve ever been in. Even the fancy banquet hall where your agency would host the annual Christmas party pales in comparison to the glitz and glamour that surrounds you. The ceiling of the massive hall is covered with glittering crystal chandeliers that shine brighter thanks to the golden accents on the redwood paneled walls. While you would normally find a red and gold color scheme garish, you have to admit it’s done tastefully.

As more people shuffle into the hall, you naturally gravitate toward the walls of the room and turn your attention to the buffet tables filled to the brim with hor d'oeuvres, sushi, cold cuts, cheeses, fruits, and little desserts. Years ago you developed a dislike for anything having to do with Endeavor Agency, but at the splendor around you, you have to give credit where credit is due; the food, the location, and the decor are out of this world.

You are on your fifth plate of food when a person bumps into you from behind, causing you to lose your balance and drop your mini-quiche and tempura shrimps. You too would have joined them on the marbled tile floor had it not been for the two large hands that wrap around your arms and steady you.

“Sorry, I should have watched where I was going.” A low and apologetic voice mutters next to your ear, causing an involuntary shiver down your spine. The man sounds familiar but nothing prepares you for the half white-half red combed over hair and the heterochromatic eyes of bright turquoise and smoky grey.

“You!”

The word leaves your mouth before you realize how stupid you sound. Todoroki’s eyes widen with what you assume is recognition and he releases you with a push, like someone that just realized the raccoon in their arms was indeed not their lost cat. Steadying yourself on the sushi table, you fix him with an unimpressed look while he averts his gaze and clears his throat.

“How are you doing today, H/N?”

The greeting is pleasant enough, but you’re still miffed about him shoving you away like a trash-loving furball with rabies.

“Enjoying myself until now, Todoroki.” You reply with a fake smile before lowering yourself to the floor with the help of the trusty sushi table. With a napkin in hand, you start picking up the pieces of crumbled quiche and tempura while the conversation around you switches to hushed voices stating your name repeatedly. Shiny black shoes come closer and are replaced by black slacks belonging to the culprit behind the wasted food, who kneels in front of you.

“You know there are scores of waiters roaming for this very purpose, right?” He deadpans as he looks around the room, probably searching for one of them.

“Well, fortunately for them, I’m used to cleaning up the messes you cause.” You reply saccharinely and relish the shame that flashes on his imperfectly handsome face. “Congrats on your rank of top three hero, by the way! Although, you forgot to name me in your little acceptance speech. After all, I was the one your daddy sacrificed for your sake.”

“You cannot be serious,” Todoroki mutters, shaking his head. “After all these years, the reason you can’t stand me is that?”

You finish placing the fallen food in the napkin and wrap it up before placing it on the table that was quickly proving to be your only ally in the room. “Yes, that.” You grumble, struggling to get up without flashing your underwear to him and the other people that’d seemingly gotten closer after you went down on your knees.

Todoroki lets out a sigh before rising to his feet in one swift movement, an action you have to admit oozes the grace you, unfortunately, were born without.

“Fucking show‒”

Your mumbling is cut short by a large hand that almost hits your nose. You look up to find him with his hand extended out to you while his face looks the other way. Taken aback, you hesitate for a moment and spare a glance at your emotional support sushi table before Todoroki clicks his tongue in annoyance and you save him (and yourself) from further embarrassment by accepting his help.

As soon as you're up on your feet, the crowd around the two of you disperses to Todoroki’s relief, judging by the way his jaw unclenches and his shoulders relax.

This time it’s your turn to act petty and break the skin contact with disgust, so you wrench your hand from his and go as far as wiping it on the short skirt of your dress, scrunching up your nose in the process. At your little display, Todoroki merely rolls his eyes but says nothing, and the immature side of you marks it as a win in your imaginary scoreboard.

“Since we’ll be working in the same agency it’d be best if we buried the hatchet, don’t you think?” He urges, running a hand through his hair and messing it up in the process. He scowls and you grin before spotting a waiter passing by and carrying a tray of champagne glasses. You wave him over and pick up a glass.

“W-what are you doing now?” Todoroki asks, thoroughly exasperated with one hand on his forehead and the other on his hip.

You chug the bubbly drink and wipe off the excess with the back of your hand. “Getting ready to bury the hatchet.” You reply and replace it with another glass of champagne from a different waiter. “Something that will require a couple of drinks.”

You down the next glass just as fast as the previous one and find the effects of the expensive alcohol taking effect via flushed cheeks and an improved mood. You smile at a bewildered Todoroki before extending your free hand.

“Please take care of me, Todoroki.”

He balks at your alcohol-fueled peace offering but eventually takes your hand and gives it a light shake. “Likewise, H/N.”

The rapid-fire camera shutters and flashes of light interrupt the two of you, capturing the moment that would no doubt be used by the press to symbolize the “peaceful” acquisition.

“Shoto! H/N! How do you feel about being under the same agency?”

“H/N, do you think you’ll fit in at Endeavor Agency?”

“Will the two of you be working together?”

“You seem close! What’s your relationship?”

At the incessant shouting of questions and the blinding lights, your body goes frigid. Suddenly, you are sixteen years old again in front of a mob of reporters, like an injured rabbit surrounded by hungry vultures ready to eat you alive.

The hand still holding yours gives it a squeeze but you’re still too shellshocked to respond and just stare blankly at the cameras. Just as the tremors begin, Todoroki pulls you to him and wraps a strong arm around your shoulders, bringing you in for a half-embrace.

“Endeavor Agency looks forward to working with H/N. In fact, she is the primary reason why the acquisition was negotiated in the first place.”

With the camera’s still flashing and Todoroki’s arm secured around you, you feel trapped and look around the room for a lifeline you can cling to and escape. Just then one of the many waiters roaming the hall passes by carrying a tray of your other ally that night. You pluck your third glass of champagne and drink half of it, savoring the crisp taste of the liquid as it flows down your throat.

Like a miraculous elixir, the alcohol breaks your spellbound state and you break into your biggest and most dazzling smile.

“Who wouldn’t want to be a part of the nation’s number one agency?” You declare with a giggle and try to relax into Todoroki. “And reuniting with my upperclassman from U.A is just the icing on the cake! I hope to be a hero worthy of the great legacy of this incredible agency.”

Todoroki’s grip on you loosens, and he shifts uncomfortably next to you. Unwilling to let him get away with holding you against your will, you tightly wrap your free arm around his waist and keep him pressed against you while raising your glass.

“To new beginnings!”

After years of agonizing over the criticism his privileged position in hero society warranted thanks to his family name, Shoto decided to stop caring when it started affecting his work as a pro-hero. Over the years, the guilt he felt seeing his peers fall behind due to their lack of connections and not lack of skill or willpower festered within him until he started hesitating in missions.

It had been the first time in years that he’d messed up. The last time being his third-year internship when he’d let the stress of his studies and family life get the best of him. His inability to focus and work together with his underclassman had led them to a failed mission--his first in the three years he’d interned at his father’s agency.

And like that time, the Endeavor Agency made sure he only got off with a slap on the wrist in the form of a berating from his Father, the former number one hero.

Shoto learned to accept his privileged position and used it to his advantage. He took on more missions, went on more patrols, and worked late into the night with the time his agency saved him filling out paperwork, conducting press conferences and interviews on his behalf, and declining invitations to the events he didn’t have to attend.

Yet, despite Shoto’s new mindset regarding his privilege, there was one person that never failed to make him feel like the biggest piece of shit--you.

Ever since you left Endeavor Agency all those years ago, any encounter Shoto had with you always left him with a bitter taste in his mouth. During mandatory hero galas, a quip at the open bar culminated in a heated debate that would put even the most cantankerous politicians to shame. Overlapping patrol’s around the city started with a glare from you and ended with an antagonized Shoto making atypical petty remarks that left your partners bewildered and you livid. Even on the rare occasions when the two of you were chasing down the same villain and one of you voluntarily stepped down, knowing a joint mission between you wasn’t possible, Shoto couldn’t help but feel agitated when it came to you and your hostility. Shoto just couldn’t figure out why you disliked him so much no matter how hard he tried.

Until the party his agency threw for you and your coworkers, and you snarkily told him the reason point-blank.

“Shoto!”

Said hero turns around to find a sidekick he’d encountered a week ago while on patrol. She giggles as she saunters over in a provocative dress that would tempt any other man.

“How have you been? I was hoping I’d see you here!” She says and drapes a manicured hand over his arm.

“Yes, well tonight is a very important event for the Endeavor Agency,” Shoto explains, pulling his arm away from her grasp. Her red mouth twists into a frown and her eyes scan the room until they find her target.

“Right, quite the group of heroes your agency acquired. H/N, in particular, seems to be… enjoying herself.”

Shoto follows her gaze to find you near one of the exits with your umpteenth glass of champagne and engaging one of the ornately decorated columns in conversation. Shoto does a double-take at the ridiculous sight before his damage-control instincts kick in. He sets down his drink and excuses himself before swiftly making his way towards you, praying that the press hasn’t immortalized your drunken debate with the poor decor.

“... aaaand that's how I caught da bastard!” You passionately declare with a triumphant smile spreading on your face. “Best feeling everrrrrr”

You take a step and lose your footing but instead of falling on your stony companion, Shoto reaches out and pulls you into his arms. He almost forgets all about his champagne-drenched tuxedo when he realizes just how close you are. With his arm tightly secured around your waist and your body pressed against his, Shoto looks at you and it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time. He can make out the various colors reflected off your irises. He traces every freckle, line, and mark on your face with his eyes. He notices the suppleness of your skin and the softness of your lips‒

“Ugh, you can let go now,” you mumble, pushing off his drenched chest with your free hand. For the second time that night, Shoto pushes you away a bit too enthusiastically, only this time you’re completely drunk and the sudden motion has you retching.

Shoto acts before he thinks and takes a napkin from the nearest table before wrapping an arm around you and leading a green-faced you out of the hall, all while convincing himself it’s to prevent a fiasco at an important agency event and not just to save you from embarrassment.

There aren’t many people outside in the lobby to Shoto’s relief, but he still rushes to the nearest elevators when you start heaving again. He punches the button to the top floor where his suite is and silently thanks his father for renting it out for him indefinitely.

The ride up is slow, but you don’t throw up, and Shoto has never been prouder of you. The two of you get off and Shoto fishes out his keycard from his pocket while holding you up. When the door finally opens, he picks you up bridal style and rushes you to the bathroom, where you practically leap off him like a cat and kneel in front of the toilet. As soon as your hands grip the sides of the porcelain bowl, you let everything out, and Shoto grimaces before fleeing the scene to give you some privacy.

After washing up in his private bathroom and changing into some clean clothes, Shoto goes back to the other bathroom to check on you. He finds you still kneeled before the porcelain throne but the arms that had gripped it now serve as a makeshift pillow where you rest your sleeping head.

Unable to control himself at the amusing sight before him, Shoto lets out a chuckle before suppressing the rest of his laughter when you start snoring quietly. If he were someone like Kaminari or Ashido, he’d pull out his phone and record you to preserve this moment, but he isn’t and settles for leaning against the bathroom wall to watch you.

Had it been for Shoto, he would have watched you snore and drool over his toilet bowl all night, but you are as restless asleep as you are awake, and had Shoto not been standing three feet away, your head would’ve fallen into the toilet bowl.

He decides to take you to a much safer place to lay down your head and places you on his bed. You are also evidently a deep sleeper, as you don’t wake up from the sudden change of sleeping environment and merely snuggle into pillows with a pleased hum. Before he knows it, Shoto tucks you in with his comforter, brings a waste bin for you just in case, and makes himself comfortable on the couch across from you.

Watching the rise and fall of your chest and listening to your quiet snores proves to be more soothing than any therapy session or trip to an onsen, and he eventually stops fighting his sleep-heavy eyelids.

It’s the skull-splitting pain that wakes you from the best sleep you’ve had in a while. It pulsates in even intervals and is made worse by the veil of light that spills into your Japanese-styled room‒

Wait. What?

You jerk up and whip your head around, taking in your surroundings despite your screaming head. Everything is clean, new, and looks expensive, including the sleeping Todoroki on a fancy grey leather couch. It takes a fraction of a second for you to realize where you are, not liking it one bit. Ignoring the pounding in your head, you grip onto the incredibly soft comforter and throw it to the side with a lamentable sigh, before swinging your legs over and standing up.

It’s only when you’re on your feet that you take in the spectacular view and for a moment you forget all about your horrible hangover and sleeping enemy. Your musings are interrupted by your alarm buzzing away in your clutch and you rush to it before it wakes Todoroki. You’re successful and turn it off only to remember your appointment with the Endeavor Agency’s doctor for a physical exam.

Gathering your things and slipping on your heels, you walk over to the couch where Todoroki is still fast asleep. Unlike his conscious self, he looks vulnerable and at peace when he sleeps. Had it been any other time, you would have pulled a prank of some sort on him, but he’d taken care of you the night before, so you let him off easy with a roll of your eyes and a muttered thanks.

A thanks that you would come to regret a couple of days later during your first day as an Endeavor Agency hero.  The morning of your orientation went by without a cinch alongside your coworkers, and after not seeing either Todoroki or his dad, you considered the possibility that working at their agency wouldn’t be so bad. Of course, nothing ever went the way you wanted, and you were promptly summoned to Endeavor’s office after lunch.

The ridiculous ride up the elevator to his office on the top floor gave you enough time to agonize over the reason for your summons, dispel your worries, and steel your nerves before the doors opened and you stepped out. Endeavor’s secretary appeared before you could even think about wandering the floor looking for Endeavor’s office and dropped you off after announcing your presence.

The door immediately swung open and you found Todoroki all decked out in his hero costume on the other side. His bi-colored eyes widened and his mouth opened for a moment before he collected himself and stepped aside to let you in. While he appeared as confused as you were, he was silent after the two of you took your seats before a suited and retired Endeavor, whereas you decided to get some answers.

“What’s the meaning of this, Endeavor?” You ask, leaning back into the comfortable leather chair and crossing your arms. “Why are we both here?”

“To show you this,” Endeavor deadpans and takes out a couple of pictures. They’re pictures of you stumbling out of the hall with your arm around Todoroki, who’s holding a drunk you up and leading you to an elevator. “And this”

He pulls out a tablet with an email displaying a news article with a picture of drunk you grinning at Todoroki with his arms wrapped around you.

[Heroes in Love! Shoto and H/N seen leaving agency party for Shoto’s penthouse suite for a private after-party of their own]

“Ugh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” you mutter and roll your eyes in disgust.

“This isn’t true,” Todoroki replies and even you can make out the frustration in his normally cool and collected voice.

“I thought as much,” Endeavor replies, retrieving the items and putting them away. “Unfortunately, we were unable to come to an agreement with the various media outlets and the articles should be coming out as we speak.”

“What!?”

You pull out your phone, work etiquette be damned, and sure enough, find yourself trending with Todoroki on various search engines and social media sites. You face-palm and Todoroki snatches your phone away before you can fight him on it.

“What do you mean you couldn’t come to an agreement with them? We’re the nation’s number one agency, surely you could’ve done more!” Todoroki yells, rising to his feet and sending his seat toppling backward. Suddenly, the urge to win back your phone dissipates and you meekly lower your arms and scoot away from the enraged icy-hot hero.

“Perhaps,” the smug bastard across from you admits. “But we figured this can be used to our advantage to improve your personal images as well as the agency’s.”

It takes you a moment to understand the meaning behind his words, and when you do, it’s your turn to jump to your feet and send your chair flying backward while the cogs in Todoroki’s head are still turning, trying to figure it out.

“No way! I refuse to be a part of your PR campaign with Mr. Oblivious over here.” You exclaim, pointing at the still-confused hero next to you with your thumb. “Find someone else to play couple-goals with him.”

You cross your arms over your chest, jut out your hip, and fix Endeavor with the fiercest glare you can muster while the lightbulb floating above Todoroki’s head goes off.

“For once we agree on one thing,” Todoroki declares and shoots you a glance before turning to his father. “This is ridiculous. We can barely stand each other’s presence.”

“That’s not what those pictures showed,” Endeavor muses, leaning back in his seat. “Regardless, the two of you will act as a couple for a period of time, because you have no choice in the matter.”

Before you and Todoroki can protest, Endeavor pulls out copies of your contracts and flips to a highlighted section that the two of you read. As soon as you’re done, you slam the packet on Endeavor's desk before muttering a slew of curses. Todoroki, ever the refined “gentleman”, sets the packet down quietly, but you spy the wrinkles on the pages and his set jaw.

“This is bullshit! I’m not doing it.” You reply, pointing at the contract. “I’d rather cancel my contract and leave this place.”

With a smug grin, Endeavor takes your contract and flips to the end before pushing it at you where you find another highlighted section. Your jaw drops when you get to the contract cancellation fee and your heart drops to your stomach at the hefty legal fees from a possible lawsuit brought against you by the Endeavor Agency. Your grip tightens around the contract as you think about your upcoming payment on your condo and how you’ll have to resort to eating ramen for the rest of the month.

You set down the crumpled contract and turn to pick up your chair before taking a seat. Emitting a heavy sigh, you turn to Endeavor, “What do you want us to do? Go on a park date? Attend a hero gala together? Go to a hotel?”

The Todoroki’s cough simultaneously at that last bit and you can’t resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“Nothing of the sort!” Endeavor assures you a little too loudly. “The two of you will be assigned on a mission together.”

Panic courses through your body and you lunge forward, planting your elbows on his desk and conjoining your hands.

“Oh no, no, no, NO! Please, I’d rather have a full-on makeout session with him in front of hundreds of reporters than work with him again. Please, Endeavor, my rep can’t afford another failure like that again!”

The retired hero regards you for a moment before rubbing his stubble as if he’s considering your plea. You keep your intense gaze fixed on him and wait for what seems like an eternity for Endeavor to clear his throat and give you a reply.

“The two of you will go on that mission together,” He insists and you deflate, lowering your arms and letting your head fall onto the large mahogany desk with a bam. “And if for whatever reason the mission fails, Shoto will take the blame.”

Your head snaps back up and your dejection is replaced with elation. “Deal!” You declare, sticking out your hand, and Endeavor clears his throat again before taking your hand and giving it a single shake.

“That’s ridiculous!” Todoroki protests and you remember he’s also in the room with you. “Why should I?”

“Because I took the hit last time,” you snap. “It’s only fair.��

Todoroki opens his mouth to counter but his protest dies on his tongue when he realizes he’s outnumbered and closes his mouth right back. It’s a sight you can get used to and suddenly working with Todoroki doesn’t seem so bad—especially when his father and your agency’s head is on your side.

Shoto storms out as soon as his father dismisses the two of you, wanting to put as much space between the two of you as possible. Unfortunately for him, you have other plans, and join him in the elevator before the doors close.

“Why so mad, Todoroki? Does it bother you that, for the first time in your life, daddy won’t be sticking his neck out for you?”

Shoto closes his eyes and bites his tongue, refusing to give you the satisfaction of getting a rise out of him. Had it been any other decent human being, they would’ve dropped it. But you’re a vicious person that takes a sick pleasure in riling him up, so you continue your petty remarks.

“Welcome to the real world, Todoroki, where your fuck-ups have consequences. It’s about time you start taking respon‒”

Shoto’s rage boils over and he turns to meet your taunting gaze. “You better not think about messing this mission up on purpose, L/N, because I’ll make sure it’s the last mission you go on.”

He watches with twisted pleasure as the smile on your face disappears, but his satisfaction sours when your face darkens and your mouth contorts into a snarl.

“Listen here, Todoroki,” you growl, backing him into the elevator’s wall and prodding at his chest with your finger. “Don’t think for a second you’re worth risking countless civilian lives over. I don’t know what kind of scummy person you think I am, but I’ll have you know I’m a hero above everything else and nothing is more important to me than that.”

You’re mere centimeters from his face, and even Shoto can see the sincerity of your words reflected on your face. Shame engulfs him as the elevator doors open and you turn around to walk out, not sparing him another glance. By the time he finds the words to apologize and chases after you, you’re already outside the building’s revolving doors and disappearing down the steps.

He deflates and runs a frustrated hand through his hair, debating whether he should chase after you, when his phone vibrates. He fishes it out of his pocket and mutters a curse when he sees the reminder for an interview he has in ten minutes. He throws a cursory glance at the double doors, despite knowing you’re long gone, before retreating to the elevator.

Throughout the entire ride up to his office, and for the beginning portion of the interview, all Shoto can think about is your face after his accusation. He can still vividly picture the flare of your nostrils, the cruel curl of your lips, the flush of your face, and the deep furrow of your brow. His shame is also still very much present and starts to morph into guilt—of course.

“Shoto? Shoto? Is everything okay?”

His musings are interrupted by the worried reporter sitting across from him, and he quickly clears his throat, giving her his undivided attention.

“Yes, everything is fine. What was your question, again?”

“I saw the reports about you and H/N and wanted to ask you if they were true.” She replies, her tone cautious but curious.

“They are true. H/N and I have been dating for a while now.” Shoto lies and hopes his words are convincing enough.

“Oh, how wonderful! Congratulations to you both!” The reporter gushes, evidently buying the lie. “I wish the two of you a happy and long relationship!”

Shoto flexes his hand and forces a smile onto his face. “Thank you. We’re very... happy together.”

“Tell me, what made you fall in love with H/N?” The reporter continues, oblivious to Shoto’s struggle. For once, he’s thankful for his so-called awkwardness when it comes to interviews because it seems to mask his clumsiness in talking about you.

With everything that has happened with you after the meeting with his father, Shoto has no time to prepare any premeditated answers to the inquiries people might have regarding your relationship. In fact, he didn’t expect to get any in this interview and is entirely caught off-guard by the reporter. His first instinct is to make up an answer until he realizes he has no idea what an acceptable answer to that question would even be. It’s then that he decides to be honest regarding his opinion of you.

“Her fun-loving personality,” he replies, remembering how much you seemed to enjoy yourself around your friends at the party. “Her sense of justice,” he continues, once again recalling your face in the elevator. “She’s also passionate and all those things make her a wonderful hero… and person.”

“Oh, how romantic! It’s so nice to see this new side of you, Shoto! Such a refreshing contrast to your stoic image.”

“Thank… you,” He replies, unsure if it’s the right thing to say. “I hope everyone continues to support H/N and I as heroes as well as...a couple.”

The reporter nods enthusiastically, “I’m sure everyone will! Now, can you tell me more about yourself? What are your interests, hobbies, and goals?”

At the return to normalcy, Shoto relaxes into his chair and lets the practiced answers flow while pushing your image from his mind, secretly hoping you catch the interview and accept his compliments as a peace offering.

After a week of orientation, tests, and training, you and your coworkers are ready to officially start your hero duties. For you, it means reuniting with Todoroki and finally receiving your mission file. 

He’s stiffer than usual after the two of you are left alone in his office to review the material and start constructing a mission plan. After a couple of minutes of sitting in silence, he awkwardly offers you something to drink before shuffling over to his fancy little drink station to brew your tea himself.

Only an idiot would be oblivious to his actions, and you’re no idiot. While a shame-ridden Todoroki serving you tea with a pained expression on his face should’ve been like an early Christmas present, you just so happened to watch the clip of his interview where he talked about you.

He hands you a steaming mug before taking his seat across from you and nervously takes a sip of his piping hot tea. Just as you wonder if his quirk allows him to withstand scalding drinks, he winces and abruptly sets down his mug, answering your unspoken question.

Before he can punish himself further—whether accidental or on purpose—you set down your mug to cool off and clear your throat.

“I-uh… saw a clip of your interview,” you admit, averting your gaze to the spilled tea on the table from his mug, “and I appreciate you saying all those things about me, even if you didn’t really mean it-”

“I meant it,” he interrupts and your eyes snap up to him. “Every word I said about you.”

You want to believe he’s lying. That he’s just saying that to get on your good side so the mission goes well. You want that to be the case with all of your heart, but you know it isn’t true because he’s Shoto fucking Todoroki and is as forthright as they come. An admirable trait for a hero you have to admit.

The compliments from the clip you’d admittedly watched over five times replay in your head, and you feel a flush rise to your cheeks that only grows when Todoroki’s eyes widen and something flashes across them. It’s an emotion you refuse to decipher, choosing to avert your gaze instead.

“Th-thank you,” you mutter after an elongated period of silence, and you pick up your mug to stop your hands from fiddling. “Do you want to look over the case file, now?”

Your efforts don’t go unnoticed by Todoroki who visibly relaxes, thus changing the mood in the room to something more professional. He pulls out the thick file and opens it up, documents and photographs spilling onto the coffee table.

“Yes, let’s start.”

After reading the mission description, you don’t know whether to laugh or cry at being assigned another rescue mission with Todoroki. A thought crosses your mind and you stand up and walk around, searching his office.

“Wh-what are you doing?” The confused hero asks as you examine the lamp on his desk.

“Looking for the prank show cameras because there’s no way this is real,” you reply, picking up one of his ballpoint pens. “Do you think they can fit a camera in this?”

“I don’t know, maybe‒” Todoroki begins before stopping himself with a sigh. “That’s beside the point. Rescue missions are common for heroes like us, so I don’t know why you’re overthinking this. Get over here so we can finish going through the case file.”

You roll the pen between your fingers, admiring the color and feel before bringing it with you. After taking your seat and reaching for one of the leads, you look up to find Todoroki with a singular brow raised and an unspoken question on his, admittedly, handsome face.

“What?” You ask, feigning ignorance. “I need a pen to work don’t I?”

He opens his mouth, and for a moment you’re sure he’s going to fight you on it, but he surprises you by doing the exact opposite. “If you like the pen that much you can keep it. I owe you one anyway.”

“For what?”

“What I said in the elevator. I never apologized, did I?” He remarks, taking another one of the leads and reading it over. It’s something you’re very much grateful for because he misses the second blush that spreads on your face, and before he has a chance to see it, you conceal it from his field of view with the document in your hands.

“See something you like?” He suddenly asks and you choke on your saliva.

“I-I’m… sorry?” You wheeze after overcoming a coughing fit.

The look on his face is a cross of bewilderment and concern. “I asked if you saw something you’d like to include in our plan.”

You sit there dumbstruck and contemplate the possibility of you slowly losing your mind. It’s the only explanation you come to after two instances of you blushing in Todoroki’s presence and hearing him say things he wasn’t saying. You consider downright blaming him for your insanity but stop when you realize it will entail some sort of explanation that’ll just end up exposing you.

“Well, did you?” He asks again, this time with more bewilderment than confusion. Thankfully you’re a hero and have been trained to think on your feet.

“N-not yet, I’m still looking,” you respond with a weak smile. “How about you?”

“No,” he admits. “It looks like we’ll have to examine each of these leads closely.”

He glances at the analog clock on his wall. “I have a patrol in a couple of minutes so how about we call it a day and resume tomorrow.”

“Guess this mission will be a long one, huh?” You reply, putting down the lead and leaning back in your chair.

Todoroki stares at you stretching like a cat, and you’re suddenly all too aware of the weight of his gaze, sheepishly reverting back to your previous sitting position.

While you’d been willing to diagnose yourself as insane just moments prior, you would’ve bet your most prized possession that the twitch of Todoroki’s mouth was a smile and the noise that left his lips was a chuckle disguised as a cough.

Shoto doesn’t know what to make of your… relationship. Not the fake one the agency thrust on the two of you, but the one forming as you spent more time together. It’s one that can’t be labeled as just coworkers because he’s never gotten nervous around another fellow hero the way he does around you. It’s not friendship either, because you don’t text him—despite having his number—during the day the way Izuku, Momo, and Tenya do. It also isn’t the antagonistic one you had weeks ago, because you now greet him during patrols and get him his favorite drink from the cafe down the street every time the two of you work late.

Your relationship is complicated yet simple, intimate yet distant, and established while also entirely new. It’s one that Shoto values more than he ever thought possible, and one that he wants to explore with you.

After weeks of intense reading and investigating, the two of you have everything needed to start your mission plan. During a particularly productive meeting in Shoto’s office, he sneaks a peek at you intensely typing away on your laptop and smiles before catching himself and shifting his attention to the outline he’s working on.

As time ticks by, Shoto’s strict eating regime kicks into gear and reminds him of dinner. He considers calling it a day, but his eyes travel to his empty drink cup and he comes to a different conclusion. Just as he’s about to invite you to dinner at his place, the loudest stomach growl he’s ever heard echoes in the room.

“Oh jeez, guess it’s time to feed the beast,” you laugh as a pretty blush spreads across your cheeks and up to your ears. “I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“Come to my place!” Shoto blurts out, not at all the way he planned on asking you. Your eyes go wide and he panics. “I’ll make you dinner and we can continue working… only if you want to though.”

Your laughter rings once more and Shoto realizes it’s one of the nicest laughs he’s ever heard.

“Okay! It’s about time you pay me back for all those iced matcha lattes.” You joke and point at his empty cup. “Non-dairy lattes aren’t cheap ya know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Shoto replies with a smile before the two of you pack up your work and take his car over to his penthouse.

Unlike the first time you stepped foot in the luxurious hotel, you’re looking forward to your time there until you realize the busy lobby has gone quiet, and the two of you are the newest spectacle. While you normally either ignored or played the part of girlfriend for your spectators, the occasion was different because you were willingly going over to Todoroki’s place and dining with him.

Lost in your thoughts, you’re easy prey for the random step in front of you and find yourself falling forward and straight into Todoroki’s arms. You’ve lost track of how many times he’s caught you, but every time he does, you swear that your heart beats faster and your face flushes a deeper shade of red.

You’ve always thought him handsome—even when you would’ve rather chewed your tongue off than admit it—but when you’re mere centimeters from his handsome, scarred face, it’s an undeniable fact and one that unnerves you the longer you stare at his features.

“Are you alright?” he asks, his warm breath fanning your face and sending a shudder down below. You’re unable to find the words to ease his worry and all you can do is stare at his parted lips and wonder how they’d feel against your skin, lips, ton—

“F-fine!” you exclaim, finding your footing and backing away from his grasp, regretting it the moment his hands leave your waist. “Thank you, though. Shall we go up? I’m starving.”

He gives you one of his rare smiles and offers you an arm that you take while thinking how wonderful it would be to see him smile every day. A thought that only makes you blush even more furiously while riding the elevator up to his suite—once again.

It isn’t until the two of you are lounging on his couch with a belly full of food and a glass of wine in hand, that you realize you don’t really know Todoroki and he doesn’t know you. What started as small talk after finishing up your work ended as a heart-to-heart conversation where you bared your history, burdens, and feelings to one another.

“I'm sorry, I didn't know about your childhood and strained relationship with your father.” You offer him a sincere apology fueled by embarrassment and liquid courage. “All these years I thought you were just another shameless privileged hero.”

Todoroki sets down his glass and shakes his head. “Your anger was justified. I was also at fault, yet you were forced to take the fall. I don't blame you for hating me.”

He meets your gaze then, and it's like you're staring into the innermost depths of his soul. “And you're not wrong about me being a privileged hero. I am one, and back then all I cared about was living up to expectations even at the cost of other heroes. I should've done more back then as your partner and upperclassman, but I didn't and I'm sorry.”

Your throat closes up at his apology and the burn of your nose indicates an onslaught of tears welling up in your eyes, so you set your empty glass down and decide to change the somber mood to something more lighthearted.

"Can you repeat that?" You ask, pulling out your phone. "I want to record it so I can listen to it after a shitty day."

"Where should I start?" He asks in all seriousness and sits up straight.

"I'm kidding, Todoroki," you laugh, dropping your phone and hitting him lightly on the arm. You’re about to retract your arm when he catches it by the wrist and uses it to pull you closer.

“Shoto,” he says, voice lower than you’d ever heard. “I want you to call me Shoto.”

You can’t deny your feelings any longer, especially when those same feelings are reflected in his own darkened heterochromatic eyes that, while once attractive, are now mesmerizing. In your stupor, his thumb rubs circles over your pulse point, causing you to suck in a breath.

“Okay… Shoto,” you acquiesce, liking the way his name rolls off your tongue. “Call me by my name, too.”

He pulls you closer until you’re kneeling on his couch before him and he steadies you with his other hand on your hip. Butterflies flutter about in your stomach and goosebumps rise over the surface of your skin at your close proximity—this time done on purpose and not as a result of your clumsiness.

“Y/N…” He murmurs, and you swear your name has never sounded sweeter. “Can I…” his eyes lower to your lips and like clockwork, you part them. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” you beg, not at all caring how needy you sound. “Kiss me, Shoto.”

His mouth curls into a grin and desire pools in your core before he pulls you onto his lap and captures your lips. His lips are soft but his kiss is demanding and hungry, setting your skin aflame without the use of his quirk. It’s a sensation you instantly become addicted to and need more of, so you close whatever distance is left between the two of you and entangle your arms around his neck, raking your fingers through his hair.

In that moment, you’re not thinking about the impending start of your mission or the aftermath. Nor are you thinking about the agency and the facade they’re having the two of you do. The only thing on your mind is the feel of Shoto Todoroki beneath you, his intoxicating kiss, and the undeniable desire to turn your relationship into something more.

#mha x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #mha fluff #shoto x reader #shoto todoroki #shoto x y/n #shoto fluff #mha fanfiction #shoto fanfiction #shoto todoroki x you #todoroki fluff #todoroki x reader #todoroki x you #todoroki x y/n #shoto x you #enemies to lovers #rivals to lovers #navs.mha

[mianavs]

the assault

In Lima with You part 4

a/n: this marks the beginning of the end for this story. like previous parts in this story and it’s predecessor, there’s some messed up stuff going on in this part.

tw: non-con, dark content, nsfw, violence

wc: 1.7k+

In Lima with You

You had been scrubbing for a good thirty minutes, yet the bright red from the tomato sauce you’d spilled on your living room carpet was still there.

Glaring at you

Mocking you

Wiping off the beads of sweat that trickled down your brow with the back of your hand, you ran the scrubby through the bucket of soapy water that was now a milky salmon color. After wringing the scrubby of the excess liquid, you went back to scrubbing that spot while ignoring the growing ache in your fingers and the knot in your neck.

It’d been a careless mistake, spilling your spaghetti while your mind had been elsewhere—a common occurrence since the night your fragile world fell apart when Dabi walked out on you.

Almost as careless as the mistake of letting your captor into your heart where he left a mark that spread until it encompassed the entire thing.

A mistake you were now paying the price for, on your hands and knees trying to scrub the mark stain away only to realize it had spread in spite of your efforts.

You fell back on your haunches and threw the scrubby into the bucket. It had been five days since you’d last seen Dabi, and you were starting to lose it.

Every time you heard footsteps outside of your front door, you would rush over and swing it open only to face nothing or a bewildered stranger. The room that had once suffocated you with warmth was now frigid and made it difficult for you to fall asleep in. Your mornings started with you waking from a nightmare that almost always involved Dabi’s death. While at the beginning of his absence you could still go about your day cooking, cleaning, or engaging in a hobby, you eventually spiraled into a depression that made it hard for you to even get out of bed.

Not only was Dabi the death-sentenced protagonist of your nightmares but he was also on your mind all day. His face during your last argument was one that had been burned into your memory. You could still see the blank look that flashed in his cerulean eyes, the twitch of his mutilated mouth, and then the shock that seeped from every pore in his body as he staggered away from your enraged form.

You’d been the one wronged that day, yet Dabi was the one that fled, leaving you with an all-consuming guilt. It didn’t make sense but then again neither did the overwhelming pain festering away in your heart the more time passed without seeing him, touching him, loving him.

Love. It was a ridiculous notion when you thought about it.

Dabi had been the monster that kidnapped you. He’d broken you down physically and mentally to mold you into the obedient darling you now were, but even with the plethora of scars all over your body, you couldn’t help but feel empty without him. Even with the door unlocked and nothing chaining you down to your shared condo, you would leave only to roam around the city for a couple of minutes before a panic seized your entire body; It was that suffocating panic that forced you back home to the comfort of your bed that still smelled of Dabi’s musk and smoke.

You loved Dabi.

You needed Dabi.

So as you dumped the soapy water down the kitchen sink and washed out the bucket, you mulled over your options in tracking Dabi down to tell him how you felt. Then just as you were putting the bucket away, the muffled sound of footsteps captured your attention and you dashed to the front door on impulse.

Where a scarred face with a wicked grin should have greeted you, there was only a red winged man with astonished eyes.

“Y/N,” Keigo breathed. “You’re really here.”

You looked behind him, searching for the man you actually wanted to see. When it was clear he wasn’t there, you turned to your former friend.

“Where else would I be?” You asked before stepping aside to let him in.

“I assumed you’d be with the League,” He answered amusedly, walking in while you shut the door behind him. “But I guess this was a no ex-heroes type of mission.”

“Where’s Dabi?” The question burst from your lips before you could think it through.

Keigo’s smile faltered at your desperate inquiry, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Last I heard they were two cities away wreaking havoc in true League fashion.”

You raised an eyebrow at his mocking tone. “Sounds like you don’t approve of the mission.”

Keigo laughed at that and it left a bitter taste in your mouth. “How about we drop the act, Y/N. It’s just you and me. Dabi isn’t here to punish you.”

His eyes traveled to a fading scar on your forearm before returning to your face. “We both know that what they’re doing is wrong.”

A bitter laugh tore from your throat as you approached him. “So the HPSC selling me for some intel is right? Them drugging me and sending me off to an orphanage is right? How about them trying to sabotage my career? Does all of that seem right to you, Keigo?!”

You were now in front of him, and he had the decency to appear sheepish after your rant. He averted his gaze and said nothing while you let out an exasperated sigh and ran your fingers through your hair.

“Don’t give me that right or wrong crap.” You retorted when your anger simmered. “Hero society deemed me a villain before giving me a chance to prove myself. I won’t stand in the League’s way if they want to bring it down.”

Keigo’s hand shot out and wrapped around your elbow, fingers pressing into one of your scars. You tried shaking him off but Keigo didn’t relent.

“What about the thousands of innocent civilian lives that will be ruined because of them? Will you also stand aside when they’re screaming for their lives?”

His golden eyes bore into yours and memories of a certain mission hit you like a ton of bricks. You remembered the room full of children that you’d saved with Keigo, and for the first time in weeks, you hesitated in defending Dabi and the League’s actions.

“We’re targeting the heroes and the HPSC, not civilians.” You reasoned, wrenching your arm from his grasp.

“We’re?” Keigo sneered, backing you against a wall. “Are you serious?”

At his aggressiveness, the alarms in your head went off but indignation muffled them. You jutted out your chin defiantly. “Yeah, I am. As long as Dabi remains in the League, I will too because... I-I love him and tha—”

Keigo smashed his lips against yours and took hold of your hands before pinning them above your head. Unlike the first kiss he stole from you, this one was harsh and meant to punish. He claimed your mouth with his invading tongue while you wrestled against his bruising grip. It wasn’t until you realized he wouldn’t let up that you bit down on his tongue until he hissed in pain and released you with a curse.

With the metallic taste of Keigo’s blood in your mouth, you tried recovering your breath only to hear a harsh thump that was immediately followed by pulsating pain on the side of your head. You doubled over from the sheer force of Keigo’s blow that left you debilitated and vulnerable.

And that was exactly what Keigo wanted.

In your stupor, you were picked up like a ragdoll and thrown onto your bed, landing face down on a pillow. The sudden motion only worsened what you assumed was a concussion. As a sharp ringing assaulted your ears, all you could do was grip the sheets beneath you in a weak attempt to stop the room from turning.

So when rough hands pulled off your shorts and ripped off your flimsy lace panties, you were too busy burrowing your spinning head in a pillow and swallowing bile to put up a fight. The severity of the situation finally registered with you when you felt the bed dip and rough hands lift your waist until you were on your knees.

By the time your body reacted, it was too late. Keigo pressed you into the mattress with your hands pinned behind your back as he settled between your legs and spread them open with his body.

His cockhead prodded at your entrance a couple of times before he forced it into your dry cunt in one harsh thrust. Horrified and unprepared, you screamed into the pillow that still smelled of Dabi while Keigo violently took you from behind like an animal.

Pain was all you knew throughout Keigo’s assault. It pulsated in your head until it felt like your skull was being split in half. It coursed through your arms that were pushed together and pressed into your back. It ripped through your cunt as Keigo’s cock rammed into you without mercy.

Concussed, restrained, and without your quirk and voice, all you could do was lie there and wait for your body to produce the slick you oh-so desperately needed to ease the ache in your cunt.

Without changing the pace of his hips, Keigo leaned over you and grunted into your ear.

“Don’t you get it, Y/N? I’m doing this because I love you and right now you’re sick. That so-called love you feel for that bastard is a disease. You have Stockholm Syndrome and I’m gonna cure you with each load I shoot up your womb.”

He let out a chuckle and licked the shell of your earlobe, causing bile to surge up your throat. Unable to swallow it down any longer, you used all the strength you could muster to jerk your head over the bed’s edge.

As you regurgitated that day’s lunch, Keigo’s thrusts ceased and he released you with a disgusted grunt.

“Rude bitch,” he growled, pulling you by your hair and pressing his torso against your body. “I tell you I love you and that’s how you react?”

Keigo shoved your face into the mattress and you writhed beneath his weight and grip as your lungs were depleted of oxygen. When your limbs went limp against the bed and black specks stained your vision, the last thing you heard was Keigo’s honeyed words delivering your sentence for falling for your captor.

“Guess I’ll have to take you away from him for you to be cured.”

#hawks x reader #dabi x reader #hawks smut #mha smut #yandere hawks #yandere mha #dabi x reader x hawks #dabi fanfic #mha fanfic #tw noncon #tw dark content #tw violence #navs.mha #navs.ilwy

[mianavs]

toxic trait headcanons | mha edition

ft: overhaul, hawks, shigaraki

a/n: third and final part of my toxic trait hcs~ hope you enjoyed them ^^

tw: implied self-harm

—Overhaul // Controlling

Assigned bodyguards to you that accompany you every time you leave the compound

Has a tracker on your phone to always know your whereabouts

Has to know what you’re doing at all times throughout the day

Expects you home at a certain time and will berate you if you’re too late

All of your free time is spent at his side

Dictates what you wear, what you do, and who you see

Will reward your good behavior with calls to your friends or visits to your family but only for a while

Knows all the passwords to your social media and email accounts

Keeps your phone on him when you come home from school/work and you have to ask him for permission to use it

Convinces you that everything he does is to protect you because you’re too weak

“Can I see my phone for a minute?” You play with the hem of your nightshirt as the request spills from your lips. “I just want to check my email before bed.”

“Are you clean?” Raising your head at the sound of his velvety voice, you nod like a girl eager to please.

“Come here then,” he replies and motions to his lap. The heat rushes to your cheeks as you approach your boyfriend take a seat on his lap in front of his desk with paperwork scattered across it.

His left arm wastes no time and snakes over your waste to keep you in place while his breath tickles the side of your neck. Pressure builds in your core as you feel him exhaling on your sensitive skin before humming.

“Good girl,” he praises before pressing a kiss on your neck. “Only for fifteen minutes but you have to stay on my lap.”

He fishes your phone from his jacket pocket and hands it over to you. Sure enough there are a couple of emails you read over and respond to knowing very well your boyfriend is monitoring every word you type.

—Hawks // Dishonest

Texts you less and less until he doesn’t text you at all

Lies about not getting your texts even though you know he’s read them

Evades your questions by changing the subject or asking questions of his own

Is gone for weeks saying he’s on a mission only to find out he’s not

Doesn’t show you any affection

Uses sex to ‘prove’ that he still loves you but it’s purely physical

His entire demeanor changes with a single phone call or text

On the rare occasions the two of you go out, the date will be cut short by him and he’ll leave blaming work

Gets agitated when you ask him what’s wrong, where he’s been, etc

“Where were you yesterday?”

“I already told you I was going out of town,” he snaps, going from relaxed to defensive in an instant.

“Then how did my friend snap this picture of you with some other people at a bar in town?” You hold up your phone and watch his eyes widen for a second before narrowing.

“Why does it matter, Y/N? I was working.” He runs a hand through his hair and starts pacing—something he only does when he’s nervous.

“I just don’t understand why you have to lie. Why not just tell me the truth?” Your throat tightens as you fight the tears.

“Because you don’t have to know every little thing about my work. It’s not like I’m cheating on you.”

“Why are you even bringing that up?”

He knows he’s messed up by the guilty look in his eyes and it makes you consider his words. The possibility he would cheat on you never crossed your mind but after all the lies you’re not sure what to believe.

—Shigaraki // Self-Victimizing

Claims you don’t love him when you disagree with him

Demands that you shower him with affection to prove your love

Commits acts of self-harm to gain your sympathy or to punish you

Blames you for his self-inflicted injuries/sickness while you treat him

Drives you to punish yourself for making him upset

When he succeeds, it’s in spite of his difficult background and expects you to praise him accordingly

If he fails, you’re expected to shower him with sympathy and reassure him

Convinces you that he can do no wrong and it’s everyone else—including you—who’s bad

“I’m sorry, Tomura. I really am.” Your hands trembles as it rubs ointment on his burned skin.

“It’s all your fault. You know that, right?” It’s not a question.

“Yes, It’s my fault. All of it is my fault so please…don’t h-hurt yourself anymore.” You beg as you gently bandage his burnt forearm. “I’ll do better. I promise.”

He raises his other hand and you freeze when he makes contact with your face. He smirks at the pure terror on your face before using his thumb to wipe away tears you hadn’t realized you shed. You only move again when he removes his hand before going back to fastening the bandage.

“You know I can’t help it, Y/N. I’m so messed up and it only get’s worse when you disappoint me.” He reasons and you nod knowing he’s right while contemplating proper punishments for yourself.

#mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #overhaul x reader #hawks x reader #shigaraki x reader #mha hcs #bnha hcs #overhaul x y/n #hawks x y/n #shigaraki x y/n #overhaul headcanons #hawks headcanons #shigaraki headcanons #kai chisaki #overhaul #keigo takami #hawks #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki #navs.mha #navs.hcs

[mianavs]

the meeting

In Lima with You part 1

a/n: sequel to Falling in Stockholm :) I also suggest reading the prologue, Fixation, for background info

tw: nsfw-ish

wc: 1.4k+

Falling in Stockholm  In Lima with You 

Warmth.

There was nothing you craved more than the warmth only another body could provide and Dabi was more than equipped in that department.

He gave you heat.

It filled you up and trickled down in excess. It clouded your mind and put you into a daze that left you incapable of coherent thought. It pressed against your skin until it burned and left marks all over it. Dabi’s heat was comforting until it turned painful, painful until it turned into pleasure, and pleasure always melted into a warmth that lingered for hours.

You opened your eyes to a stream of warm sunlight that painted your sheets a bright yellow. It’d been almost a month since Dabi moved you into this small condo after you gained his trust. Untangling your limbs from him with care, you swung your legs over the edge of your new bed and poured yourself a glass of water. You dug into your nightstand until you found the almost empty plastic sheet of small white pills and took one out. Ever since Dabi stopped injecting you with quirk inhibiters, he brought you some birth control and explained that the inhibiter had also been laced with contraceptives.

Your musings stopped when you heard a distinct low groan followed by disfigured hands that tugged you down into bed. Dabi’s face took over your field of view with his cold cerulean eyes, marred burgundy flesh, and little grey staples that held his face together. He was the picture-perfect definition of a monster but instead of screaming or fighting against him, you pressed a chaste kiss on his mouth before falling back onto your shared bed and looking at him with pure adoration—he was your savior after all.

“Good morning,” you greeted him with a shy smile.

Dabi’s mouth curled into a grin before bringing you into his arms and maneuvering your body so your back was pressed against his chest.

“Morning, beautiful,” Dabi slurred, his hot breath against your ear drawing out a gasp from your lips. “You’re running low on your pills aren’t you?”

You nodded wordlessly as Dabi’s hand snaked over your chest and started teasing your nipple.

“Good thing I got you some more,” he mused as he continued pinching and rubbing your hardening nub. “Even though it’d be nice to see you carrying my kid.”

The thought of carrying Dabi’s child sent a cold shiver down your spine as his other hand splayed against your bare stomach. You found the idea revolting and your body reacted accordingly. Then as quickly as the disgust came it left and panic replaced it when you remembered your painful re-education and the man who put you through it.

Dabi stopped his ministrations on your body and you knew he’d noticed your reaction. You held your breath waiting for the familiar pain from his quirk but his arms merely tightened their hold on you.

“Do you not want to have my kid?” He hissed sharply and you furiously shook your head.

“N-no! Of course I do, Dabi. I love you!” You cried and squeezed his hands for effect. “I just think we should w-wait until we accomplish the Mayor’s goal. Besides, I doubt Shigaraki would approve of me becoming pregnant.”

Your heart was in your throat as you waited for Dabi’s response praying your reasoning was enough justification for him.

“You’re right,” He mumbled nuzzling against your neck. “We need all the manpower we can get to bring down the heroes.”

Melting into his arms, Dabi started kissing down your neck while his hand traveled south to the apex between your legs. You shuddered remembering the intense sex from the night before but spread your legs anyway. He’d only started stroking your clit when his phone suddenly started vibrating. With a groan, Dabi’s hands left your trembling form and answered the call.

Just from the annoyed expression on his face, you could tell it was your leader, Tomura Shigaraki, on the other end. They exchanged a few words but Dabi’s eyes shifted to you halfway through the call. The warry expression in his haunting eyes put you on edge as you wondered what Shigaraki had told him to make him react that way.

“Get ready,” Dabi stated as he hung up on your boss. “There’s a meeting today and the boss wants you there.”

Shigaraki didn’t trust you and, as a result, few members of the league did.

He told you so himself during your first meeting with him. It’d been just the two of you in his office to Dabi’s displeasure but there was nothing he could’ve done—Shigaraki was the boss after all. It was in that dingy office where Shigaraki gripped your neck with four fingers while his thumb lingered over your pulse point.

“As a former hero, you’ll have to work that much harder, Y/N.”

Ever since that exchange, you were always cautious around him. During the few missions you went on with the league, you protected Shigaraki as best as you could alongside Kurogiri. You risked your life time and time again to keep him safe but only so you could return to Dabi. Shigaraki was merely an annoyance you had to deal with until the Mayor’s objective was complete. The disgruntled man-child could drop dead afterwards for all you cared.

What you cared about was Dabi and his trust in you. It was your lifeline and without it you were as good as dead. So as you walked closely behind your savior into the dark compound of the League of Villains, apprehension ate away at your composure as Dabi’s cold gaze remained imprinted in your mind.

Your gut told you this wasn’t a regular meeting when you walked past the other members whose faces were darkened with a negative emotion you couldn’t pinpoint. The tension in the air was suffocating but you continued walking until Dabi stopped in front of Shigaraki and another person you never thought you’d see again.

Keigo Takami stood calm and collected next to Shigaraki while you felt as if you were going to pass out. You stood frozen as your blood ran cold and all you could hear was your heart thumping erratically in your chest. When your eyes turned away from the red-winged hero, you noticed other pairs of eyes on you and watching with mixed emotions.

“HAH! Just look at her face!” Shigaraki sneered, taking a menacing step towards you. “Don’t tell me the two of you know each other.”

The question was more like an accusation and you wanted the earth to open and swallow you whole. You opened your mouth to speak but the words you desperately wanted to scream wouldn’t come out. Your eyes turned to the man next to you hoping he’d say something—anything—that would get Shigaraki off your case but Dabi’s eyes burned with anger as he stared you down.

That was when you realized that Dabi knew more than you’d hoped.

“Yes, I-we worked together once,” You stammered. “He’s practically the HPSC’s poster boy so I don’t get why he’s here.”

“To be a criminal like his dad. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, eh Takami?”

Dabi’s mouth contorted into a hideous smile as he stared at a surprised Keigo. You wracked your brain trying to remember a time when Keigo talked about his father but you only remembered hearing about his mother, Tomie.

Gold eyes flickered to you and your heart began to ache when you saw the hollow pain in Keigo’s eyes. It was a pain you were more than familiar with and, for a second, you wanted nothing more than to comfort your old friend.

Just when you were about to take a step towards Keigo, a deformed hand gripped your own and held it in a crushing grip. You gasped but didn’t fight it when you saw the bone-chilling expression on Dabi’s face. To anyone else watching, he looked amused but his painful grip and clenched jaw were dead giveaways to the fury the burned within him.

“Since you brought him in and your little pet is oh-so well-acquainted with him, you’re in charge of watching over him, Dabi.” Shigaraki stated as he sauntered over in front of Dabi. “So if he ever betrays us it’ll be on you.”

He spoke to Dabi but his scarlet eyes remained fixed on you making the meaning behind his word’s crystal clear—he’d punish Dabi by eliminating you first.

#dabi x reader #yandere dabi #dabi fanfic #hawks x reader #dabi smut #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #hawks x you #hawks x y/n #hawks fanfic #dabi x reader x hawks #dabi #hawks #yandere mha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #yandere bnha #mha fanfic #bnha fanfic #navs.mha #navs.ilwy

[mianavs]

the re-education

Falling in Stockholm part 5 (finale)

a/n: thank you for all of the likes and reblogs! a sequel will be written in the future with another major character that i hinted at in the beginning~ hope you guys enjoy this final part :)

tw: non-con, somnophilia, smut, torture, mind break

wc: 2.3k

Falling in Stockholm  

You were at an onsen.

The hot water surrounding your naked form relaxed your fatigued muscles and enveloped you in pleasure. The longer you soaked in the steaming outdoor bath, the warmer your cheeks became and the dizzier you felt. Leaning back against the rock wall, you closed your eyes as a jet of water rose up and surged between your upper thighs drawing a low moan from you. Released of all your tension, your mind fogged up and eyelids grew heavy as your body began to nod off.

Hard grips on your thighs and a painful intrusion in your cunt woke you up to your horrific reality. Your limbs were still restrained by leather straps and tied to the four corners of the bed. The blindfold was still secured over your eyes and served to distort your sense of reality. Cool air still tickled your naked body that remained splayed open as the initial dull pain between your legs dissipated. Your captor’s ministrations on your sex while you slept made it easier for him to slip in and out of your slickened cunt.

Dabi’s disembodied grunts stopped when you started to struggle against his hold on your thighs.

“I knew this was the best way to wake you up.” He laughed still rutting into you like an animal in heat.

“Sick bastard!”

At your insult, Dabi slammed his length painfully into your abused hole. Each thrust hit your cervix without fail until you were whimpering in pain from the roughness with which he fucked you.

“H-hurts. It hurts! Agh-”

Dabi’s deformed hand gripped your throat depleting your lungs of air. Soon, your body began to spasm and choked gasps escaped your mouth as you desperately writhed underneath his iron grip.

“You feel so good, Y/N,” Dabi chuckled but continued pounding into your messy cunt. “You tighten up when you can’t breathe.”

Dabi’s cruel laugh faded away as the lack of oxygen messed with your head. Specks of white dotted your darkened vision while your body tensed painfully as the remnants of your will to fight were squeezed out you. It was all too much and you eventually stopped resisting. Barely holding on to your consciousness, one final groan and hot spurts of semen into your womb preceded the release of your throat. Wheezing and coughing for air, you never appreciated the feeling of Dabi’s cum oozing out of your cunt more than you did in that moment.

The weight on top of you shifted and the bed creaked as Dabi got off and walked away. The hum of the bathroom light followed by the sound of running water served to calm you down while your breathing evened out. The longer the blindfold stayed on, the easier it was for your mind to wander until you eventually succumbed to sleep.

You were drowning.

Cold water splashed your face and you woke up gasping and coughing on a soaked bed. The clanking noise of metal bouncing on concrete made you jump in surprise. Your ears then started to ring and your drumming heart rose to your throat clogging your windpipe until you couldn’t breathe. The panic attack wreaked havoc on your mind and body and you tugged at your restraints and screamed like a wild animal. The sound of Dabi’s footsteps stopped your hoarse screams and overwhelming terror stiffened every muscle until you lay absolutely rigid.

“Shhh…it’s time for your re-education,” Dabi’s hand hovered over your cheek but you recoiled from his touch. A sound of displeasure left his lips before his hand connected with your face and a harsh crack echoed in your ears.

“Who are you?”

Dabi’s question was met with your silence. You didn’t know what answer he wanted and believed remaining silent was your best bet. There was a deafening silence before a disembodied sigh came from Dabi that was then followed by the crack of a whip.

“AGH!-”

“Who are you?” The question was the same but you made sure to answer this time.

“Y/N!” You cried out not knowing what else to say but hoped it would stop the torture.

Dabi brought the whip down on your right leg this time and tears burned your eyes. The excruciating pain from the whip was similar to the one his quirk inflicted and that, along with your already weakened state, crumbled away at your cracked sanity.

“H/N!”

“L/N!”

“FUCK!”

“HELP-“

No matter what you said, the crack of the whip remained constant. To your horror, Dabi started hitting the same spots ripping open old wounds or making fresh ones on the expanse of your skin. In your delirious state, you weren’t sure if the warm dampness on your skin was leftover water, sweat, or blood.

“…d-don’t…know,” you mumbled, trembling violently. “W-who…am I?”

The sound of the whip made you flinch instinctively, only this time it hit the ground instead. You waited for Dabi to make a sound, a movement, but he remained still while you waited for the pain to come.

“Mine,” that rough voice replied. “You’re mine.”

Suddenly, hands clasped your cheeks and you gasped in response. His warm breath drew closer to your face and you braced yourself for another rough kiss only to feel it travel to your ear.

“Years ago, I was a lost child until the Mayor saved me—just like you. He trained me separately but told me everything about you. Your quirk, your personality, your strengths, your weaknesses, but most importantly he told me about our future. He wanted us to work together—to be together—and take down hero society.”

“M-mayor?” Cohesive thoughts were beyond the capabilities of your fractured mind. That one word was the only thing you could get out.

“Mhmm,” Dabi purred into your ear. “He trained me just like he trained you. We were going to meet soon but those heroes had to go and ruin everything. They killed the Mayor and took you away from me.”

Memories of the Mayor’s death flooded your mind. The stand-off between him and a faceless hero. You, jumping in between them to shield the Mayor like he’d train you to do. Exhausting your quirk and being thrown out of the way. And finally, the life leaving the Mayor’s eyes as you crawled to his body with tears streaming down your face.

You couldn’t reject your memories any longer. The Mayor had been like a father to you and his death had hurt you as much as your parent’s death did. The heroes had to pry you away from his corpse and even then, you fought against them tooth and nail. The only way they managed to control you was with tranquilizers and quirk inhibitors. For a couple of months, your new reality consisted of hospital visits, interrogations, and drugs until the HPSC molded you into an obedient child that they could ship off to an orphanage.

“I t-tried but…heroes…too strong.”

“I know, I know.” Dabi reassured you by pressing his lips to your temple; this time you didn’t pull away. “Do you understand now? I’m making things right again. I’m trying to help you, Y/N. The heroes messed with your head but I’m gonna make it better—just like the Mayor.”

“H-hurt?” You whimpered after Dabi’s warmth disappeared.

“The faster you let go of your hero identity, the less it’ll hurt.”

Your re-education continued with Dabi posing questions and you answering them honestly. Dabi could tell when you were lying and would punish you accordingly.

“You know better than to lie to me, Y/N.”

The punishments Dabi inflicted were less harsh after your conversation. It was like Dabi knew you were trying to fix your tainted mindset and rewarded you by not hurting you so much. In turn, you stopped seeing Dabi as a villain and saw him more like a mentor. He was going through these great lengths to help you and you accepted each burn, slap, punch, cut, and bruise with gratitude.

Each session ended with a kiss to your forehead and sweet words of praise that made your heart soar with pride. Dabi always cleaned you up after each session. He released you from your restraints, cleaned and disinfected your wounds, gave you a bath every now and then, and made sure to feed you and give you water before lying you on the bed. You usually fell asleep before he tied you back up but even when you didn’t, you never fought him on it. After all, everything Dabi did was for your own good.

Then, just when your mind was almost completely fixed, you woke up to a deafening silence that seemed to last forever. You realized Dabi wasn’t in the room nor in the premises and you grew anxious. The longer he was gone, the darker your thoughts became regarding what had happened to him. A particularly terrifying thought that came to mind incited a full-blown panic attack that left you sweaty shaky mess.

What if the heroes got him?

What if they find me and ruin me again?

What if they killed him?

No No No No!

You needed Dabi. He couldn’t just leave you like that. He promised to make things better. He promised to fix you. You couldn’t live without him; you were his. You lay on the bed with tears soaking your blindfold until poisonous thoughts flooded your mind and contorted your fear into rage.

It’s the heroes’ fault.

Those bastards will pay if they hurt him.

I’ll kill them all

Your mind and body eventually tired themselves out and you fell into a deep sleep. With your mind altered to what it had once been, you dreamt of the Mayor. He looked the same as he’d been when he’d died while you were your current age. He wore a proud smile on his normally hard-set face as he looked at you. Suddenly, his eyes shifted and you felt a presence next to you. Turning, you saw Dabi standing next to you. He looked down at you with a smirk before possessively wrapping his arm around you and bringing you to his chest. You closed your eyes and melted into him, inhaling his signature scent of musk and smoke. Looking back to the Mayor, his smile had grown seeing you and Dabi together and approached the two of you. Basking in the warm feeling of being in Dabi’s arms and having the Mayor’s approval, you closed your eyes and hoped the dream would never end.

The rattling of the door woke you up in an instant. Your entire body tensed as you waited for the door to open and the sound of footsteps to inform you who it was. You’d burned the sound of Dabi’s footsteps into your memory ever since he’d taken away your sight.

When the door swung open and the familiar lazy shuffle of Dabi’s feet reached your ears, you broke out in tears of relief. Your cries seemed to shock the man who stopped moving for a while before rushing to your side.

“W-where w-were…you?! I-I was…w-worried!” Your body shook as sobs tore through you.

Dabi remained silent but you heard him take a step forward and before you knew it, his hands hovered over your ankles and undid your restraints before working on the ones around your wrists. When your hands were finally free, you ripped off the soaked material over your eyes only to be blinded by the harsh florescent lights of the room. As soon as your eyes adjusted, you were able to make out Dabi’s face.

After not being able to see him in what seemed like forever, you were overcome with emotion as your eyes hungrily took in his face. He looked tired and worn out but, other than that, perfectly imperfect. The disfigured face that once made you sick, now made your heart race.

With tears of joy, you threw your weak arms around his neck and clung to him, burying your face in his neck.

“Please! D-don’t…leave a-again”

His arms wrapped around your waist and held you up. “I’m sorry.”

Your heart hammered in your chest as heat pooled into your core the longer Dabi’s hands were splayed on your bare skin. It felt like an eternity since he’d held you so intimately and you craved more. Taking matters into your own hands, you trailed your mouth up his marred neck to his face leaving a path of kisses in your wake.

“I…missed you,” you admitted to his astonishment before you crashed your lips onto his deformed ones.

You took the initiative, tasting his mouth and relishing in the warmth of his wet tongue. Your fingers dug into his messy hair and used it as leverage to pull him closer, deepening your kiss. The trance Dabi was in broke when you began tugging on his hair and he took over the kiss, leaving you breathless and aroused.

Soon, a familiar ache in your sex had you grinding against Dabi’s jeaned thigh for some much-needed friction. Noticing your intentions, Dabi smirked against your mouth before resting his knee on the bed and allowing you to straddle his thigh. As you continued to desperately rub your clit on the rough material, he kissed and sucked on a sensitive spot on your neck that drew soft whimpers from your bruised lips. Your slick dribbled out of your cunt and covered Dabi’s leg but you didn’t let that stop you from chasing your orgasm.

A strangled cry and your creamy cum coating Dabi’s jeans signaled your release. Exhausted from your exertions, you collapsed against Dabi completely spent. He held you up as he maneuvered himself to sit on the bed before setting you down on his lap and wrapping his arms around you. Snuggling against his chest, you could hear his rapid heartbeat that matched your own and it was all you needed to admit out loud the realization you’d come to.

“I…love you, Dabi.” You murmured, desperately clutching his shirt as if that would stop him from ever leaving you again. “Please…stay with me.”

“Always.” Dabi replied tightening his hold on you as if that would keep you by his side forever.

#dabi x reader #dabi smut #dabi fanfic #mha x reader #bnha x reader #dabi x you #mha smut #bnha smut #dabi #touya todoroki #touya x reader #yandere dabi #tw: noncon #tw: somnophilia #tw: smut #tw: torture #navs.mha #navs.fis #mha fanfic #bnha fanfic

[mianavs]

Festered Wounds

The insecurities that brought you together now tore you apart

Bakugo x f!reader

a/n: been thinking about toxic relationships lately and realized i needed to write more mha hehe

tw: dubcon, smut, implied abuse

wc: 1.4k+

The belief that you could climb the ladder of success through hard work and dedication had been your lifeline growing up. It was what your father engraved in your mind as he worked ungodly hours just to keep a roof over your head and food on the table. So you did what you had to do in order to avoid working a measly job with your mediocre quirk. You divided your time studying and improving your quirk until your eyelids grew heavy and your muscles ached.

But in the end, hard work wasn’t enough and your growth plateaued after graduating UA. You did all you could to improve your quirk but, at the ripe age of twenty-two, you were found yourself at a dead-end with the promotion from sidekick to pro-hero nowhere in sight.

They say misery loves company and you suppose that was what kept you tethered to Katsuki Bakugo after the initial attraction subsided. Like you, Bakugo had his own insecurities that ate at him the longer Izuku Midoriya remained the Number One Hero and the larger the gap between them grew.

Where the two of you once found solace in your relationship and licked each other’s wounds, it proved to have been only temporary. Your wounds eventually festered and turned your relationship into an unreliable crutch that sometimes supported you and other times let you fall.

The buzzing noise stirred you awake and you reached over to your nightstand to pick up your vibrating phone. You noticed the mail icon on your lock screen after disabling your alarm and your hands trembled as you rubbed the leftover sleep off your eyes. Impatient fingers opened the email but upon reading the first few words any hope you had dissipated.

[Thank you for your interest but, after further consideration, we have decided to pursue other…]

It was your seventh rejection letter that month and you were starting to lose all motivation to keep applying for a pro-hero position at a hero agency.

As you brushed your teeth, you remembered Bakugo’s words after the first few rejection letters you’d shared with him.

“Tch you’re obviously not looking hard enough. There’s gotta be some agency that’ll take you.”

Resentment reared its ugly head as you rinsed out your mouth. Of course he would never know what it was like to get rejected by an agency. As one of the top three heroes, Bakugo had agency’s lining up to recruit him yet his pathetic girlfriend couldn’t even get one. You’d eventually stopped showing him the rejection letters knowing his reprimands would hurt more than help you.

Taking in your reflection that showcased your swollen eyes, you cancelled your plans with your old classmate knowing the only reason she and all the others sought you out was to either brag about their successful careers or to suck up to Katsuki Bakugo’s girlfriend in an attempt to meet him.

You caught yourself before any more ugly emotions towards your boyfriend surfaced. It’d been a recurring action recently and the guilt that proceeded always goaded you to do things for Bakugo. Most of the time, he didn’t notice the extra-mile you went when you cooked, cleaned, or surprised him at work for a quickie during lunch but it was better that way—your shameful feelings were your own to deal with.

After spending the day cleaning, doing laundry, and buying groceries, you were plating Bakugo’s favorite spicy noodles when the sound of the front door slamming shut hampered your good mood. Used to dealing with his episodes, you waited for him to enter the kitchen and remained silent, hoping the sight of food was enough to lessen his anger.

Bakugo was perfectly disheveled when he rounded the corner and appeared before you. His hair was wilder than usual and you knew it was the result of running his fingers through it too many times. The suit jacket he usually wore for meetings was nowhere in sight and you assumed he discarded it somewhere in the living room. His red tie was loose around his neck and the sleeves of his black button-down shirt were pushed up to his elbows.

Under different circumstances, you would have jumped his bones without a second thought but the hostility in his scarlet eyes had you trembling for different reasons.

The plate in your hands was thrown aside, crashing against the wall and painting it an ugly red as the noodles slid down to the tile floor. Your legs moved on their own and you backed away from your boyfriend whose jaw was set, brows were furrowed, and his mouth contorted into a frown that only deepened as you retreated.

“You can’t look at me like they do, Y/N. Not you.” His strained voice was quiet but you recognized the hurt and comforting words spilled out your mouth instantaneously.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki, but how about you tell me what happened. Please, let’s just talk—”

Hard hands gripped your shoulders and harsh lips swallowed your plea. He was rougher than usual and his teeth clashed against yours while your lips swelled from his bruising kiss. Pain eventually gave way to pleasure and the longer Bakugo’s warm tongue glided against your tongue the easier it was to surrender yourself to your carnal desires.

With your hands around his neck, Bakugo wasted no time in discarding your apron, bunching your skirt up, and backing you up against the kitchen counter. The press of his hard-on against you was enough for your arousal to leak out and coat your panties. You whimpered when his mouth abandoned yours and the only thing connecting the two of you was a strand of saliva that eventually broke and dribbled down your chin. Through lidded eyes you made out the frustration that replaced anger on his face and supposed it was better than nothing.

Bakugo rocked his hips against your wet panties and he placed open-mouthed kisses on your neck that further incited your need for release. You tugged your boyfriend’s hair and started moving your hips on your own accord which was all it took for him to release his cock, pick you up, and press you against the wall with your legs wrapped around his waist.

There was always a painful stretch when he sheathed himself into your cunt but normally Bakugo did a good job prepping you whether it was with his fingers, tongue, or cock. This, unfortunately, wasn’t one of those times and you were gasping in pain and digging your nails onto his clothed back as he hammered into you.

When the pain only increased with each erratic snap of his hips, tears streamed down your face but he merely kissed them away and continued to pound into you while your cunt tightened in discomfort. Your safe word almost left your lips but guilt and concern prevented it from being voiced. Left with no other alternative, you closed your eyes and held onto your boyfriend until his labored pants turned into groans and ropes of hot semen painted your walls in their color. Bakugo set you down after pressing a chaste kiss on your temple and you used whatever strength you had left to leave the kitchen and lock yourself in the bathroom without sparing him a glance.

The turmoil of emotions erupted in the shower and you cried not caring if he heard you. After crawling into bed with a headache, the belief that you’d discarded your hurt and anger in the bathroom was proven wrong when Bakugo entered your shared bedroom. The remorse is evident on his face but instead of making you feel better it incites your resentment.

“I’m sorr—”

“You’re pathetic, you know, taking it out on me. Why do I have to be your punching bag whenever Midoriya one-ups you? Maybe if you fixed your shitty personality you might be able to surpass him. But that’ll never happen will it, Katsuki?”

The cruel words spilled out like vomit; once you started there was no stopping it and in the end you felt empty. You waited for him to counter your insults with attacks about your quirk or your position but he only nodded once before turning around and leaving the room.

You were half asleep when Bakugo came back after showering and crawled into bed. You pretended to be asleep when he eventually pulled you into his warm chest and wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

There were countless moments when you were tempted to break it off with him, especially after one of his episodes. The longer your relationship lasted the bigger the arguments, the harsher the insults, and the shorter the moments in between became. But when Bakugo held you in his arms and whispered sweet nothings into your ear, thoughts of leaving him went out the window and all you felt was love and affection for the man whose insecurities mirrored yours.

#bakugo x reader #bakugo scenarios #bakugo smut #mha x reader #mha smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou scenarios #bakugo #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha scenarios #bakugou x you #bakugo x you #tw: dubcon #tw: smut #navs.mha #navs.fw

[mianavs]

the mission

Falling in Stockholm part 3

a/n: more revelations of the past and the mission that started it all

tw: smut, dubcon, yandere, mind break, imprisonment

wc: 3k

Falling in Stockholm

The moment Dabi locked the door, your miserable wait began. Time was meaningless in your brightly lit cell with no clock, calendar, or window to reassure you that it existed. The pain from his attacks subsided into a dull ache that let you relax and doze off from exhaustion. You eventually stopped trying to activate your quirk. It hadn’t worked ever since he’d injected you with that serum and the possibility that he’d managed to render you quirk-less plagued your thoughts.

Sleep came and went for you during your wait. The pain from your binds would bring you back from your slumber. The continued friction from the rough rope wore down your raw skin until warm blood pushed through the surface and lightly coated your wrists; you wondered if Dabi would arrive before the wounds festered. The blisters on your forearms, though painful, hadn’t burst yet to your relief. In your immobile situation, treating your burns was impossible and the blisters provided protection from infections. You looked down at the burnt handprint on your suit which revealed red marred flesh that was beginning to swell painfully against your clothing.

When it wasn’t your cuts or burns that woke you, it was your gut-wrenching hunger which had gone beyond mild growling and was painfully contorting against itself seeking food it didn’t have. It was the intensity of your hunger that drove you to act on the unfeasible act of getting to the fridge.

Using your abdominal muscles, you swung your bound legs back and forth until you began shifting slightly from your original spot. You alternated shifting your weight between your legs and your upper arms until you began to make even more progress on route to the fridge on the other side of the room. Your wounds screamed in pain as you pathetically shuffled on the ground but your hunger took over all your senses and the only thing on your mind was the need to satisfy it.

By the time you reached the fridge, blood and sweat covered your aching body but the elation from reaching the fridge made it all worth it. You nudged your shaky bound hands between the door and the fridge and pulled with all the strength you could muster. Expecting the door to swing open and possibly hit your mid-section, you were dumbfounded when the door remained closed no matter how hard you pulled on it. You were confused until you glanced up and saw a metal hatch attached to the fridge that held the door in place.

You screamed until your voice gave out. Hot tears streamed down your face as you slammed your face against the door repeatedly until your vision went hazy and the pain from your bloodied nose overcame the frustration and anger you felt when you realized your efforts had been for naught. You wouldn’t get to eat unless he let you.

The longer you lay on the floor in agony, the easier it was to succumb to your dark memories. Your first ‘training’ session with the Mayor resurfaced. He had been so eager to test your quirk to it’s limits that he had paid no mind to your young age and inexperience and inflicted pain you’d never felt before. After hours of excruciating pain, he left you with broken bones and in a puddle of blood, sweat, and tears for an entire day.

The almost identical situation you were in sent you into hysterics once again. You were forced to come to terms with the fact that you hadn’t gotten stronger. Just like that eight-year-old girl, you were abducted easily and forced into another jail cell to be tortured by another captor. All of your training and education to strengthen your quirk and body meant nothing and you felt as helpless as you did the day your parents were murdered in front of you by the Mayor.

Plagued by the repressed memories of your time with the Mayor, you didn’t even react when Dabi eventually came through the door. Your hazy vision didn’t see the momentary surprise on his face before he set down the bags he’d been carrying and took you into his arms to examine the damage.

Your face was covered in dried blood that matched the stain on the door of the fridge. Your suit was further torn from shuffling across the concrete floor. The worst, however, had to be your wounds that had begun to fester.

You didn’t protest when he ripped off the rest of your suit and removed your soiled underwear until you were bare before him. With care you didn’t know Dabi possessed, he gently set you down in a tub of warm water. You couldn’t help the tears that escaped when the water soothed your sore muscles and kissed your wounds. Wanting nothing more than to close your eyes and sleep, you were brought to reality by the sloshing of water and Dabi’s rough hands lifting you up slightly then setting you back down between his legs.

Another person’s warmth was something you never craved as a result of your childhood and growing up an orphan. In your current state, however, even you fell victim to the base human need to find comfort in others during difficult situations. Sweet inviting heat radiated off of Dabi’s chest and you easily rested your body on his, letting your eyes close in the process. You were only mildly aware of your surroundings as you let yourself relax. You felt his hands lather soap all over your body but that was all you felt as sleep won over and you drifted off.

You woke up to the sting of ointment on your wounds. Sitting on Dabi’s lap wrapped in only a towel, you watched as he meticulously cleaned and wrapped your thigh and wrists. He then shifted and carefully lifted you up only to realize you were awake.

“Sit here while I wrap your ankles.” His touch was light and careful as he cleaned the red skin of your ankles and then wrapped each one in a white bandage that he fastened with a clip. You couldn’t help but watch him as he worked at a steady pace until he gently set down your foot. You thought of running away but the lock on the door prevented you from acting on your impulse.

Dabi left but quickly returned with a change of clothes that you recognized as yours and you lifted your head in confusion.

“I stopped by your flat,” he replied and when you didn’t move, he spoke again. “Do you need help?”

You shook your head and wondered if he would stay as you fished for your underwear only to see Dabi closing the door behind him. You put on the sweatpants and shirt Dabi gave you and opened the door to a familiar scent that made your mouth water. On the table was a spread of your favorite foods: okonomiyaki, tonkatsu, and dorayaki.

You approached the table cautiously but noticed the two sets of chopsticks and the nod Dabi gave you as he set two bottles of water by your plate. You sat down and swallowed the saliva that filled your mouth as Dabi filled your plate with the delicious-smelling food. After he served himself and sat down, you picked up your chopsticks with trembling hands and picked up a piece of the breaded pork.

One taste and you were scarfing down the food eager to satisfy your hunger only to be stopped by Dabi slamming his chopsticks down and glowering at you.

“Slow down or I’ll take it away.”

You finished your meal slowly which you realized would prevent you from throwing it all up after not eating for a long time. Wondering exactly how much time had passed, you addressed your captor for the first time since his return.

“How long have I been here?” Dabi regarded you for a moment before taking a swig of beer. “About five days…gonna be six tomorrow.”

“Where did you go?” You pushed your luck unsure if it would end badly for you.

“Work.” He went back to finishing his share of the dorayaki and you couldn’t help glancing at the exit.

Were there other people around or was the building isolated from everyone?

Even if you did get out what would be on the other side?

“It’s locked,” He interrupted your thoughts and you looked away knowing it was useless without the key.

“So drugs and human trafficking?” He sent a confused but agitated look your way and you continued. “Your work. That’s what your gang specializes in, right?”

Dabi mulled over your words until he broke into a smirk. “Oh, is that what they told you about those idiots? I thought they’d be more creative—”

“What are you talking about?” You got agitated quickly when people kept you in the dark about something and Dabi was obviously doing just that. “Whose they?”

“The Hero Public Safety Commission,” he replied nonchalantly. “Didn’t they tell you to gather evidence on a band of no-name villains?”

His use of the exact phrase Takeru had told you shook you to your core and your mind raced to conjure an explanation. “H-How do you know that?!”

“Do you still not get it?” He grinned taking in your rigid form. “They set you up. We came to a deal. I offered them intel on some villains in exchange for you.”

A choked sob erupted from your throat and you starred at Dabi in horror as his words registered in your mind. You had hoped the HPSC would eventually find your location and rescue you but Dabi’s revelation killed any hope of being saved. You stood up and Dabi mimicked you waiting for you to make your move and pounce on you like a predator.

“They were pretty eager to get rid of you. You were too much of a danger to them and the rest of hero society.”

Your head throbbed and a ringing noise assaulted your ears the more Dabi explained the mission to you. Air became scarce and you began hyperventilating. With your heart drumming against your chest and your vison blurring, you took a step but your legs gave out beneath you. On the ground, you drew your legs to your chest and grasped your head.

“W-WHY?!” Your whole world crumbled in that moment and you fell into the dark pits of despair.

Dabi came down next to you and took you into his arms. He pressed your head against his chest and rocked you back in forth letting you ride out your panic attack. You gripped his cotton shirt and soaked it with your angry tears repeating the question you’d asked.

“They didn’t want a hero raised by villains to rise the ranks and gain influence. They couldn’t let you ruin their twisted system of heroes.”

“B-but I’m not a v-villain! I just want to save people and live a decent life! Why can’t t-they see that?!”

Dabi lifted you up in his arms and took you to the bed. “They don’t deserve you, Y/N. They sabotaged your career but it’s okay now. You’re here with me where you belong.”

Before you could get away, Dabi had you pinned down on the bed careful not to press on your bandaged wrists. You struggled against him but his grip only tightened and memories of the last time you’d angered him reminded you off his quirk. He began to press open-mouthed kisses against your exposed neck eliciting a gasp from your lips.

“We’ll get them back for everything they did to you. We’ll destroy them the same way they destroyed you. I’d do that and so much more for you, Y/N.”

His words should have repulsed you. You should have pushed him off and told him you didn’t want anything he had to offer. You should have tried to run away even if it got you punished. You should have done anything except what you were doing—what you were letting him do—but Dabi’s revelation changed everything. You didn’t know where you belonged. Hero society didn’t want you so why were you so desperate to get back?

Dabi interrupted your musings by pressing his hard-on against your clothed sex and nipping the skin on your collarbone. You bit your lip to muffle your moans as he moved his mouth to your ear and licked the skin around it. You were a quaking mess when his mouth claimed yours. The cold hard metal on his face made you gasp and his tongue was inside in no time. Your weakened mental state worked against you and the pleasure from kisses and thrusts against your sex wore you down. You gripped his hair and wrapped your legs around his waist to bring him closer.

He broke away first, the string of saliva breaking and dribbling down your flushed face. His shit faced smirk almost made you regret your decision—until he took off your pants and underwear and buried himself between your legs. His warm tongue that alternated between lapping and sucking on your clit combined with the cool metal staples had you gripping the sheets as waves of pleasure coursed through your body and your moans and cries echoed off the walls.

After coming undone on his mouth for the third time, he raised his head and took off his shirt to reveal the pattern of scarred skin, staples, and pale skin that matched his face. Whether your reaction to his flesh angered him, his face showed no indication and he went back to taking off the rest of your clothes. Fully conscious as opposed to how you were hours ago in the bath, you flushed as he greedily took in your splayed naked form before settling in between your thighs and languidly running his tongue up until he reached your left breast and licked the already hardened nipple while he flicked and pinched the right one.

He alternated between the two making your mind go blank from the intense pleasure he was giving you. Your sex was gushing once again just from him playing with your chest and you tugged on his hair to get his attention.

“Please…I need—I need it.” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it and Dabi smirked knowingly.

“Say it and I’ll give it to you,” he replied before returning to your left nipple and biting down on it making you tear up in pain and pleasure.

“Fuck! Fuck me, please.”

He released your nipple with a pop and took his weight off you. You observed him as he unbuckled his jeans and took them off to reveal his tented boxers. He released his cock as he climbed back on the bed but your eyes remained on the pre that coated his head and dribbled down his shaft. As he settled between your legs and guided his cockhead towards your entrance, regret and apprehension dampened your desire.

“Wait, I don’t— HNNGH!”

Dabi sank in and bottomed out in one swift motion. His thick girth stretched you out painfully despite not being a virgin and you were sure you’d bleed. You tried shifting to get him off you but Dabi began mercilessly thrusting into your aching cunt despite your protests.

“Hurts—AH! It hurts!”

“Too hard—s’ too fast! Agh!”

“Shhh…I’ll make it feel good.” Dabi shifted slightly until he sat on the bed while gripping your hips and pulling you towards him. He then resumed thrusting at a much slower pace but his balls still slapped your skin and the head of his cock reached your cervix each time. The slapping noises of his skin on yours sounded wetter and you could feel the pleasure begin to bubble once again. His fingers suddenly began rubbing circles around your clit while the other traveled up and played with your nipples. With your pleasure at the brim, you lifted your hips to allow Dabi to hit that spot and you were soon rewarded with your release.

“Cum—I’m gonna cu—!” Your cum gushed out while you collapsed back on the bed, a spent and twitching mess.

Dabi wasted no time in letting you rest before he pulled you up on his lap and guided your hips with his hands. Placing wet kisses all over your neck and chest, he built up your pleasure once again until you were the one raising and slamming your hips down on his thick length.

“Fuck! Your cunt’s so good.” His warm breath tickled your neck before he bit down.

His praises made your cunt twitch even more and your hands traveled to his back where you scratched his back trying to hold on to your mind as the friction from your bodies and his deep thrusts fogged your senses until all you could feel was ecstasy as you bounced on his cock.

“Gonna cum! Argh—Milk my fucking cock! Take my cum—F-Fuck!”

Overstimulated, your walls convulsed around him and you soaked his lower stomach with your release. Seeing you squirt sent Dabi over the edge and his hot semen filled your cunt and dribbled out of you when he pulled out.

Panting and covered in sweat, you collapsed on his chest wanting nothing more than to sleep. Dabi held you in his arms until both your breathing evened out and heart rates returned to normal. He then lifted you up and carried you to the bathroom where he set you on the toilet seat and gently cleaned the cum and blood off your legs and sex. After cleaning himself off, he took you back to the bed, helped you dress, laid you down on the bed, and covered you with a warm blanket.

You could cry from how warm and soft the bed was compared to the cold hard floor you’d lain on over the past few days. In your exhausted state, the pain and suffering Dabi had put you through resurfaced and tears of frustration framed your eyes.

Dabi settled next to you, brought you to his chest, and wrapped his arms around you tightly. You hated yourself in that moment as you cried in your kidnapper’s chest while he rubbed comforting circles on your back. You shook and sobbed in anger but Dabi only hugged you closer and kissed the top of your head.

“I-I hate y-you! Y-you ruined m-my life!” You wailed but gripped his tear-soaked shirt. “What a-am I supposed t-to do now?!”

“Shhh…you’ll get used to this. Once you’re obedient we’ll be happy together, you’ll see.”

You weren’t used to sleeping next to someone else; having their warmth envelop your body and listening to the gentle beating of their heart. It was a foreign sensation but you quickly found out that sleeping in Dabi’s arms brought you more comfort than you’d felt in a long time. It reminded you of warm Sunday mornings and walking hand-in-hand with your parents to the park. That night you didn’t dream of pain and suffering with the Mayor or past missions the HPSC sent you on. You dreamt of your parents and how happy you’d been once upon a time.

#mha #bnha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #dabi #dabi x reader #dabi fanfic #mha fanfic #bnha fanfic #navs.mha #dabi smut #mha smut #bnha smut #dabi x y/n #dabi x female reader #yandere dabi #touya #touya todoroki #touya x reader #touya x you #dabi x you #yandere mha #yandere bnha #navs.fis

[mianavs]

Falling in Stockholm

“And it's hard to hate someone once you understand them.”

The past you escaped came back in the form of a villainous stranger who destroyed your world but built you a new one

toc:

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4 

final part 

sequel 

#navs.mha #navs.fis #dabi fanfic #dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #mha x reader #bnha x reader #dabi smut #mha smut #bnha smut #mha fanfic #bnha fanfic #dark content #tw: noncon #tw: violence #tw: imprisonment #tw: dubcon #tw: mind break

[mianavs]

the warehouse

Falling in Stockholm part 1

tw: stalking implied

With the deafening sound of your heartbeat and the pictures capturing your full attention, you failed to notice that from the supply closet behind you, a figure appeared with a syringe in one hand a moistened cloth in the other.

Falling in Stockholm

As the wind violently whipped your hair, you couldn’t help but curse the situation you found yourself in. There you were in the outskirts of the city staking out on the roof of an abandoned building. Clutching your binoculars, you observed the entrance of the warehouse where a band of no-name villains allegedly were. The Hero Public Safety Commission had never been helpful in gathering intel for your missions but you normally would be given enough time to get it yourself; this time you weren’t as fortunate. They’d merely called you in during your day off after weeks of slaving away for them and thrust the mission on you expecting results.

Their instructions had been as vague as their intel regarding the job and that had put you on edge.

Find out what they’re doing, what they plan to do, and get tangible evidence if possible. Do this right and it could mean a promotion out of this place.

That was what your bastard boss, Takeru, had said before unceremoniously kicking you out of his office. You had worked at the HPSC since your graduation from UA three years ago and had all but lost hope of leaving that hellhole but the possibility of recommendation to an actual agency was enough to spark up your motivation.

Your musings were interrupted by the appearance of six figures exiting the warehouse and getting into two black sedans parked nearby. All six matched the descriptions that had been given and you waited until the cars pulled away before you activated your quirk and made your way to the building.

As you made your way through the building with your guard up, you couldn’t help but feel uneasy at how desolate the warehouse was. There was no sign of evidence—let alone tangible evidence—in each of the cold and damp rooms. The long scratch marks on the concrete floors were tell-tale signs the building had been emptied out by the villains or looters; you didn’t know but you doubted it made a difference.

The longer you were in there searching for the main office, the less you noticed the musty smell of mold and mildew that permeated the building. Your eyes had adjusted to the flickering fluorescent lights and the humming noise they emitted served to soothe your nerves as you exited the main room and rounded the corner to a carpeted hallway with a room at the end; the sign above it reading ‘main office’. Excited your hunch had been correct, you bounded towards the door and pushed it open to reveal a small metal desk with a small lamp perched on it and papers scattered everywhere.

It was only after you turned on the lamp that you realized the papers were full of images—not documentation of an up-and-coming band of villains. However, it was what the images depicted that left you shell-shocked. They were pictures of you and they spanned from the present all the way to your school years when you had taken up fighting illegally in order to fund your education at UA. With trembling hands, you picked up the grainy pictures and relived the moments of your youth when you’d get beat to a pulp in exchange for money by human scum. You could almost feel the excruciating pain—taste the metallic blood—as you went through each and every image like a madwoman.

With the deafening sound of your heartbeat and the pictures capturing your full attention, you failed to notice that from the supply closet behind you, a figure appeared with a syringe in one hand a moistened cloth in the other. You had just gotten to a picture of you at a hero gala laughing with a certain red-winged man when you felt a strange heat and your senses seemed to scream at you with every hair on your body standing up.

In a nano-second, you felt a sharp pain on your neck and your eyes made out the plastic barrel of the syringe and the blue contents disappearing into your skin. Before you could even react, your mouth and nose were covered by a moistened cloth that emitted a familiar toxic smell—chloroform, you realized too late as its effects began to go into effect. The assailant let your body tumble forward until you were on the ground and trying to make out their face.

It was with hazy eyes that you saw the marred burgundy flesh that seemed to cover his skin in patches. His cerulean blue eyes shone as he took in your fallen form greedily and you were just conscious enough to make out the words coming out of his mouth.

“I won’t let you run away this time, y/n.”

#mha #bnha #dabi #dabi x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #navs.mha #dabi fanfic #touya #touya todoroki #dabi x you #touya x reader #yandere dabi #yandere touya #mha fanfic #bnha fanfic #yandere mha #yandere bnha #navs.fis

[mianavs]

the punishment

Falling in Stockholm part 4

tw: abuse, torture

wc: 1.6k

Falling in Stockholm

Normal

You felt normal. For the first time since you had been taken, you were filled with a sense of normalcy waking up on a warm bed, in your pajamas, and the energy of your quirk tickling your fingertips. You flexed your hand out of habit and sure enough your quirk’s energy manifested in the usual form of a disk-shaped shield. The reappearance of your quirk washed away any lingering sleep and you almost bolted out of the room then and there—at least, until Dabi’s soft snoring grounded your thoughts and you moved quietly and carefully.

You rose from the bed, slowly, knowing that one loud movement would wake your captor. Dabi was still fast asleep when you tiptoed to his coat on a wooden chair and fished for the keys. With trembling hands and blood pumping in your ears, you fisted the keys to keep them from jangling and took your hand out of the pocket. While focusing all your attention on the keys, your knee accidently bumped against the chair and you froze, not daring to look in his direction. You waited for the creaking of the bed, the roar of his flames, or the throbbing pain from his blows—but none of them came. You darted your eyes to the bed but Dabi was still sprawled on the bed with his chest rising and falling in an even rhythm.

Adrenaline still pumping through your veins, you moved to the door and started trying each of the seven keys on the lock. You needed to be quick, not knowing when Dabi would wake, but your trembling hands made it difficult to quietly work on the lock . Your life depended on how fast you could open the door and that fact alone had your hands trembling and your heart in your throat.

When the lock finally turned with the fifth key, the bed creaked and you whipped your head around to see Dabi scrambling to his feet. In a second, your right hand was raised and a shield Dabi’s size materialized before using your force to push it in his direction. With no time to lose, you were out of the room before witnessing the damage Dabi had taken from your quirk.

You ran down a dimly lit corridor all the way to the end until reaching an unlocked door that revealed a flight of stairs leading up. The realization you were in a basement was interrupted by the door of the room slamming open and Dabi appearing hunched over. His appearance had you bolting up the stairs with your eyes solely focused on the steel door in front of you. Sunlight shined through the windowpane and its warmth kissed your face making you lose balance and tumble forward. Your hands caught your fall but you still managed to scrape your knee and hit your shins on the concrete steps.

The door behind you slammed open revealing your captor and you rushed to your feet and made it to the door. Just as you were about to push it, the door swung open and revealed a tall, masked figure in an overcoat. You ran into the figure who caught you by your shoulders while you desperately gripped onto the lapels of his honey yellow coat.

“Help! Help me, please!” You choked out and the figure seemed to regard you before tilting its head to look past you. The figure was way too calm and your instincts told you to get away. The figure nodded once before turning his head to you and the horrifying truth made your blood run cold.

They’re with Dabi

You pushed off the person but they wrapped an arm around you before you could use your quirk. In a second, a flash of blinding blue enveloped you and fogged your mind. A glassy blue wall was all you made out before nodding off.

Darkness was all you saw when your eyelids fluttered open. You were blindfolded and could no longer feel your quirk’s energy flowing through you; an indicator that you’d been drugged by that quirk inhibitor once again. Soft material lay beneath you but your wrists and ankles were bound by a cold leathery material. You shivered from the cold that enveloped your naked body. A couple of tugs from your hands and feet was all it took to understand your situation. Your wrists and ankles were bound to the four-corners of a bed.

Footsteps and muffled voices from the other side of the door put you on edge and you tried to make out what they said.

“I’ll meet him later,” Dabi’s distorted voice said. “I have to discipline my girl first.”

Your terror mounted with every syllable Dabi uttered. He exchanged more words with whom you assumed was the masked person that had trapped you before the door rattled and opened. Fighting the shiver that went down your spine, you feigned sleep as Dabi’s footsteps grew closer before they stopped near the end of the bed. You waited for him to say something only to hear a loud snap before searing pain cut across your abdomen.

“ARGH!”

“Apologize,” he demanded while you were still reeling from whip’s pain.

“Y-you’re insane!”

The whip continued to crash down against your stomach, arms, legs, and chest after every insult you spat at Dabi.

“Monster!”

“Psycho!”

“Freak!”

Before long, the dull pain took over your entire being and words were beyond you. The whip continued to crack against your raw skin even without hurling insults his way. Pain like this you’d only experienced during your days with the Mayor. He’d punished you like this too when you disobeyed him.

The whip eventually stopped but the torture didn’t. Cold water splashed on your face that sent you into shock. You coughed and wheezed and your body shook violently from the reactive pain of your wounds. Soon, your lungs seemed to close up and oxygen became scarce.

“C-can’t…breathe! HELP!”

A harsh blow to your left cheek snapped you out of your panicked state and your chest heaved, finally getting the air it needed.

“…Why…w-why me? It makes…no sense…I’ve never met you.”

You braced yourself for another blow or another whip but instead the contrasting cold of his staples coupled with his hot breath caressed the skin of your thigh. Your unfaithful body writhed as his tongue ran across the swollen red lash marks on his path.

“You have. I saved you outside a club six years ago.”

A memory you had tried so hard to bury rose to the surface of your mind. You’d worked part time at a club/bar during your last year of middle school in order to pay your UA tuition since the orphanage you were at couldn’t afford it and your grades weren’t good enough for a scholarship. The work mostly consisted of cleaning up after guests had already left, but one night a client and his colleagues cornered you in the alleyway. With your quirk, you’d managed to inflict some damage on them but they soon showed their true villainous colors and overpowered you. Their filthy hands roamed your body and assaulted you. They would have gotten away with more had a shadowy figure not approached them and dragged them off you. You ran as soon as you could, shaken, but not before looking back and seeing electric blue flames engulfing your attackers. Their screams from being burned alive haunted you for months and you never returned. It had taken years but the memory was stored with the other painful ones in the dark recesses of your mind while you moved on.

“It was y—”

Dabi cut you off by crashing his lips against yours in a desperate kiss that stole the air from your lungs and made your head spin. You kissed him back until the momentary haze ended and you cut him off by harshly biting down on his lip. Dabi hissed in pain before gripping your right shoulder and burning the skin while a raw scream tore through your body. The pain from the burns his quirk inflicted was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. It shook you to your core once again and tore down your pain tolerance until you were just a shell of a person—crying, screaming, and trembling.

“You know what to do for the pain to stop,” He whispered into your ear and you flinched. Dabi was right. No matter how hard you’d tried burying your past, the situation you found yourself in mirrored the one in the past. Pain was a result of disobedience. The only way to stop the pain was to…

“Listen to me, Y/N. I have your best interests at heart.”

“Y-yes, Mayor,” You whimpered. “M’sorry…I-I’ll be good.”

“That’s my girl.”

You weren’t sure if it was Dabi or the Mayor that spoke but they had become one in your mind. Bound and blindfolded, your past and present fused together. Whether you were a pro-hero or an eight-year-old girl, the result was the same and you were a slave to the pain inflicted on you. A thought you believed you’d disproven over the years manifested once again.

I suffer because I’m weak

Your surrender was always met with sweet relief. With your mind still in shambles, you could only feel. Warm water and a soft towel traveled across your body. Cold ointment was applied to your wounds before rough but warm hands wrapped bandages around them. Your head was lifted up and cool water ran down your throat that you eagerly drank until there was none. You leaned into your master’s warm hand when he ran them across your face gently. When your exhaustion won out, the last thing you felt was a warm blanket that was drawn up against your chin.

Yes, this is much easier

#mha #bnha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #dabi #dabi x reader #dabi fanfic #mha fanfic #bnha fanfic #dabi x y/n #dabi x female reader #yandere dabi #dabi x you #touya #touya todoroki #touya x reader #touya x you #tw: abuse #tw: torture #navs.mha #navs.fis

[mianavs]

the room

Falling in Stockholm part 2

a/n: this sets really sets the mood for the story and where it’s headed

tw: sexual assault, physical abuse, imprisonment

Falling in Stockholm

Coldness. Hardness. Ache. Those were the sensations you could identify after the thick fog in your head dissipated and you were able to process your thoughts. You were sitting up but the moment you tried to move your aching limbs, you realized they were bound by tight restraints that dug harshly into your skin.

The realization you were bound had your blood pumping fast and you darted your eyes open feeling fully alert. You were leaning against a cement wall while your ankles and wrists were bound together by thick rope in expertly tied knots. Instantly, you tried to activate your quirk but found it was to no avail—that fact alone had your heart beating wildly as you took in the situation. The room you found yourself in was made of cement walls and flooring. There was a single panel of fluorescent lights that brightly illuminated the room that differed from the one’s in the warehouse and indicated this was another location. You continued searching the room and found a plain bed in one corner of the room that looked to be for one person. Beside the bed was a small wooden dresser with a reading lamp that was switched off. Across the room was a small fridge that stood next to a door left slightly ajar and you could make out a sink. There was also a small table and two wooden chairs to match between the bed and the bathroom. The most glaring feature of the room, however, was the tall mirror attached to the exit. It almost covered the entire door and, in its reflection, you could see the state you were in.

Your hero costume was torn open near your wrists and ankles as well as across your waist where your supply pack had been. Your gloves and shoes had also been taken and you tried to tuck your bare feet under your legs to shield them from the cool air. Upon glancing at your face, you took in your haggard face covered in sweat and dirt. Your eye bags were darker than usual and your lips were chapped while your hair clung to itself with oil and dirt. All key indicators that you’d been out for days after the incident.

Footsteps interrupted your observations and the mirror rattled a bit as the door was unlocked and swung open to reveal your kidnapper. Upon seeing his scarred skin, you quickly recognized him as the same person who’d knocked you out in the warehouse and you tensed as you took him in. His messy black hair, his dirty clothes, large trench coat—they were all standard for a criminal but it was his piercing cerulean eyes and the burgundy patches of marred flesh that made him stand out. Then, after crouching down in front of you could you make out the staple-like metal that seemed to hold the scarred and unscarred skin together. You couldn’t help but shudder in disgust as his cold eyes wracked over your body not leaving one piece of exposed skin untouched.

“…you finally woke up.”

“Who the hell are you and what do you want from me?!”

The calmness of his gruff voice pissed you off but the assailant seemed indifferent to your little outburst. He merely stood up, headed to the mini fridge, and took out a bottle of water and a beer can. The sight of water reminded you of how parched you were and the man didn’t fail to notice how you opened your mouth ever so slightly at the sight of the bottle. He then pulled one of the chairs and straddled it in front of you while opening his beer and setting the water next to him. A smirk etched his face seeing the way your eyes traveled to the bottle neck to his foot. In your frustration, questions tumbled out of your mouth hoping he’d answer at least one of them.

“Why the hell do you have pictures of me from my childhood?!”

His eyes were indifferent as he took a sip of his cold beer and your eyes, like magnets, were on the drop of malted brew that escaped the corner of his scarred mouth and began to languidly trail down his face. You ran your tongue across the same spot on your own face while he simultaneously licked the beer up and maintained his eyes your mouth. Upon registering what you’d been caught doing, you averted your eyes in embarrassment but converted it back into anger.

“Why didn’t you kill me?!”

“Where are we?!”

“WHY DON’T YOU ANSWER ME—“

The pungent smell of beer assaulted your nose after you found yourself drenched by it. You blinked away the burning liquid and made out the bastard crushing the empty can and getting ready to chuck it at you. You braced yourself for the hit but instead it hit the wall next to you with a harsh clang that left you paralyzed. The next thing you knew, the chair was tossed to the side and the offender was straddling you legs, locking your feet in place, and held your tied arms above your head in a position that had your muscles screaming in pain. You used all of your strength to push him off but he was stronger, despite his lanky figure, and he used his free hand to strike your face with a resounding crack that blurred your vision. Hot tears framed your eyes and you coughed out the iron-tasting liquid that had filled your mouth. The same hand then forced you to face him by holding your jaw in a death grip that had blood oozing out of your mouth and onto his hand.

“Hmm…you don’t remember me, do you?” He sounded amused and disappointed as his deformed mouth twitched into a sinister smile. You racked your brain trying to remember his voice, his face, and his form from any altercation you’d had with villains or with members of the Hole, the illegal fighting club from your early teen years, but you drew blanks.

“It doesn’t matter since you’ll have plenty of time to remember.” A feeling of dread spread from the pit of your stomach to your throat as the implication of his words sunk in. He released your face when he got the reaction he’d been seeking.

“Why won’t you just kill me?” You were dumbfounded and you kept your eyes downcast. He raised his hand and you flinched thinking he would strike you again but instead his calloused hand cupped your cheek gently and raised your head to meet his cruel gaze.

“And why the hell would I do that when I’ve been waiting six years for you?” The toothy maniacal grin on his marred face made your blood run cold and your worst fears came to life as he closed the space between you to assault your lips with his.

He lapped at the blood around your mouth when you gritted your teeth denying him access to your mouth. It was only after he realized, no matter how much he licked and drew more blood from your lips, you wouldn’t relent that he decided to use his quirk. What began as uncomfortable heat you attributed to struggling against your binds quickly escalated to fingers like a branding irons that dug into your skin and burned the flesh in its path. Accustomed to pain since childhood, you held in your cries until you felt flames licking your lower arms and the bubbling of blisters forming.

His heavy tongue was in your mouth before you could react and lapped at your own. The heat of his breath filled your mouth and clouded your mind—that is until you felt his free hand travel south to the apex of your legs where he began to rub that bundle of nerves. You were reduced to a gasping mess as he continued his assault on your sex and your mouth. Strings of saliva connected the two of you when he pulled away for air and your moans that had been muffled by his mouth escaped your swollen lips. This only seemed to encourage him as he activated his quirk and burned though the material of your suit near your inner thigh.

“NO, PLEASE DON’T!”

Your blood curdling screams evoked his wrath and he burned the skin on your thigh until you were reduced to a sobbing mess from the scorching pain. Your suit was torn to expose your drenched underwear and he wasted no time discarding it to shove two fingers into your slickened hole. Your cry was muffled by his mouth as he harshly thrusted his fingers in and out of you while his thumb rubbed circles around your clit.

Betrayed by your body, you closed your eyes and tried to escape your reality the same way you’d done many years ago when your small body had been subjected to torturous amounts of pain. Your abuser, noticing your closed eyes, increased the speed of his ministrations until your fleshy walls fluttered and your eyes darted open while you cried out your release. Stunned and mortified by your actions, he pressed a wet kiss to your neck before whispering in your ear.

“Such a good girl cumming on my fingers.”

He removed said fingers from your still twitching sex and raised them to his face where, to your horror, he licked your fluids off them. “I think you deserve a reward.”

He climbed off your lap and reached for the bottled of water. You were far too exhausted, both physically and mentally, to try to fight him off so you sat there limp while he uncapped the bottle and carefully tilted it into your mouth. The refreshing liquid was heavenly as it went down your parched throat. You drank it greedily and whined when you felt some of it trickle out of the corner of your mouth. Your kidnapper, of course, noticed this and licked if off your chin, but you were focused solely on the steady stream of water on your lips and didn’t voice your disgust.

After finishing the water, you let out a groan wanting more but before he could react a phone went off. You froze as you saw him stand up and fish the phone from his pocket to answer it. A switch went off in your head and you were screaming like a banshee for the person on the line to hear you.

“HELP! HELP ME, PLEASE! SAVE ME! I’VE BEEN KIDNAPPED BY—“

You let out a choked grunt as he lowered the leg that had bashed into your stomach and glared at your crumpled form before returning to his call. “Nothing, just my girl acting up. Alright, I’ll head out soon.”

You couldn’t breathe as you laid there in the fetal position; the warm pain spreading to your entire torso. You were reduced to a wheezing mess of blood and tears while your lungs desperately tried to retain air. Your kidnapper regarded you with disdain as you convulsed on the floor before clicking his tongue and dragging you up to your knees by your hair.

“I was going to clean you up and feed you but after your little outburst, I don’t think you deserve it.” He pressed a cruel kiss to your cheek before throwing you to the ground, your vision blurry from the impact. Making his way to the door, he stopped and regarded your fallen form.

“To answer your first question, the name’s Dabi and I took you because you belong to me.”

#bnha #dabi #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi smut #tw: violence #tw: noncon #tw: imprisonment #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha #mha smut #bnha smut #navs.mha #dabi x you #touya #touya todoroki #touya x reader #yandere dabi #yandere touya #yandere mha #yandere bnha #mha fanfic #bnha fanfic #dabi fanfic #navs.fis