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#touya x reader
heich0e · 2 days
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there's an east wind blowing beyond your bedroom window.
you know it's from the east because the rain falling outside is hitting the windowpane in a soft tap-tap-tap that occasionally intensifies on a particularly strong gust. you know your bedroom window faces east because every morning you can see the sun cresting in the distance, diffusing—soft and pink and warm on your favourite days—through the gauzy panels of your curtains.
"you up yet?"
it's not morning now. far from it, in fact. the night's still only new, though it's already fully-dark outside—and has been for most of the day thanks to the dreary weather. it's late enough in the evening that most businesses have closed their doors for the day and people have returned to their homes, but not quite late enough to justify the fact that you're already curled up tightly underneath the covers of your bed.
you roll over in your comfortable cocoon and spy touya in the doorway, leaning against the frame as he watches you.
he's got his coat on.
"are you going out?" you ask him, your voice a little thicker than it usually is. you've been awake for a while, but your afternoon nap (that ran longer than you expected) has left it hoarse from disuse.
touya makes a quiet sound of agreement. not quite a grunt, nor a hum, but something somewhere in-between the two.
you push yourself up slightly in bed, propping your body upright on your elbows. "but it's raining."
touya hates the rain, and has for as long as you've known him. he's the first one to complain when dark clouds roll in, to curse as his teeth chatter and he shakes droplets from his hair when he steps through the door after getting caught in an unexpected downpour, to go out of his way to avoid making plans that require him to leave the house at the slightest mention of inclement weather.
"'s letting up a bit, i think," he answers from the doorway with a little shrug. "i just need to run to the convenience store, anyway."
he shuffles a little further into the room as you lift your hand and reach out for him, approaching the edge of the bed wordlessly and slipping his hand into your own. he peers down at you from your bedside as you lift his hand and press it to your cheek.
"what do you need at the store?" you ask him, your lips pursed slightly. it's not that late, and the weather really isn't that bad, but you'd still prefer he stay here with you.
"ran outta patches today," he replies, though there's something almost a little resentful in the statement. even his expression is a bit more annoyed than it had been a moment prior, in a way that almost makes you giggle—but you suppose the nicotine withdrawal could be playing a part in that.
"just patches, right? not patches and a pack—"
"not patches and a pack of cigarettes to tie me over on the walk home," he finishes the sentence for you before you get the chance, rolling his eyes a bit. "i know, i know."
he frees his hand from your grip and pokes your cheek lightly, earning him a little laugh you can't help but let slip through your lips.
"i'm 24 days in, you know. not about to throw it all away now," he reminds you pointedly.
"good," you reply with an encouraging nod and a somewhat cheeky smile. you never doubted him anyway. "make sure you take an umbrella."
he nods, his touch still lingering against your cheek. his fingertips skirt down, tracing along your jaw, until he reaches your mouth. he presses his thumb lightly against your chin, seemingly just to watch your lips part.
"d'ya want anything?"
you shake your head in dissent, but then pause, your eyes lighting up.
"can you get pickled ginger?"
"pickled ginger?" he asks you, a bit incredulously. "again? thought we just got some of that."
"i finished the jar earlier," you reply with a shrug.
"that can't be good for you," touya remarks dryly, letting his hand drop from your face. "you're gonna start pickling yourself from the inside out if you keep eating so much of that stuff."
"it's not my fault that pickling is the superior form of food preparation." you flop back lazily against your pillows, meeting his gaze resolutely. you lift your fingers as you list out the various accolades. "cold, crunchy, sour, kinda sweet, sometimes spicy—what's not to love?"
touya's nose wrinkles. he's never been a huge fan of pickles, but especially not in the volume you've been consuming them lately.
"whatever you say," he answers, knowing now after all this time when he ought to bow out of an argument before it starts. "mom texted me earlier and said she was sending yumi over with side dishes tomorrow, and there'll probably be pickled vegetables in there. so you can wait until then."
"fine," you sniff, and you may pout a little, but touya knows your excitement at his little sister coming to visit outweighs any annoyance you may feel about having to wait a whole twelve hours to get your fix.
outside, the wind picks up again, and the tapping against the windowpane gets a little bit louder.
"sounds like it's getting worse," you murmur, your face turned in the direction of the window. you glance up at him again, blinking from where you're sprawled out across your pillows. "you sure you wanna go out in that?"
touya nods, kneeling at the edge of the bed and dipping down so he can press a kiss to your forehead. you're still warm from sleep, and soft in all the ways he's come to depend on. you smell like your shampoo and your sheets—and a little bit like him too, since the floral-printed bedlinen is as much his own now as it is yours.
"be back soon," he speaks quietly into your skin before pulling away.
you wave him off tiredly, and as he leaves the room, touya wonders if you'll be asleep again before he returns.
he pulls his shoes off the rack in the genkan, tucked away next to yours, and leaves his slippers there as he stuffs his feet into footwear better suited for the elements. he grabs his keys off the little table in the entryway, the keychain you bought for him at the aquarium glinting in the light as he tucks them into his coat pocket. last, he grabs the umbrella from just beside the door—he doubts he'll even use it, but you told him to take it, so he does.
there's an unexpected break in the rain as touya steps out into the spring night, and he blinks up at the sky overhead a bit incredulously when he realizes his luck. he doesn't linger to appreciate it for long, knowing that at any moment his fortune could change, shuffling off in the direction of the convenience store at the other end of the street.
he sidesteps puddles along the sidewalk on his way, admiring how the streetlights ripple in the surface as he passes.
touya used to hate the rain, but he can't help but think that it's not so bad when he knows that he has somewhere—and someone—warm waiting to welcome him home.
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butterfly-writer · 2 days
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Punishment & Pleasure
Dabi x Female!Reader
Summary: Dabi was being a brat, always interrupting his beloved during meetings and conversations. I’m sure he deserved what she’s willing to give him as punishment..
★☽A/N: I never wrote smut in a long time.. This is like– My second time writing, and my first wasn’t exactly a satisfying one.. So I hope this one is not too bad! I might be making a separate account for smut if this one turns out okay!
Contents: SMUT
Power bottom AFAB reader, sub top Dabi – Manhandling, anal play, orgasm denial, masochism.
18+ MDNI
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· • —– ٠ 𓆩♡𓆪 ٠ —– • ·
It was a cold evening. The sun was slowly setting and the sky was a beautiful hue of orange and red. The League of Villains was having a few short meetings, all ending with Shigaraki getting pissed.
But someone was getting a lot more pissed.
That someone is Y/N L/N.
She was talking to Toga, listening to her rant about her obsession over a certain green-haired boy. And just before she was about to respond, Dabi had come behind her and interrupted her speech. She was surprised to see him, and she was a bit upset about him interrupting her. But, like the patient soul she was, she let him off easy.
But as the day went by, Dabi kept interrupting her. His continuous interruptions were starting to bother her. He continued in that manner because he wanted to see her lose her cool. She was always calm and collected, even during missions and when faced with enemies. Her personality only made him curious for her angered state.
And what better way than to interrupt her everytime she talks?
With each interruption he did with everyone she was trying to talk to, he could see the frustration flicker in his beloved's eyes, her patience wearing thin by the second. He started to feel a bit excited. Not aroused, but excited. Her face was a dead giveaway that she was getting pissed, and that’s exactly what he was looking for.
He wanted to see her enraged, maybe even lash out. He could take it, her anger couldn’t possibly be bad, right? He had experienced much worse from other people. And he was a villain, he couldn’t easily be scared by some “tantrum” from his beloved. 
Dabi couldn’t resist doing it again one last time. She was talking to Mr. Compress and she managed to talk to him for a good amount of time. But before she could talk to him longer, her response was cut off by Dabi’s annoyance.
"Hey, Y/N," he interjected, his voice dripping with mock innocence. "Did you hear about that new hero in town? Word on the street is they're cheating on their married lover.” He grinned mischievously.
Y/N's jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation flashing across her features before she composed herself with practised ease. She shot Dabi an annoyed look, but kept a smile on her face, and responded. "Yes, Dabi, I'm aware. Now if you don't mind, I was in the middle of a conversation."
“Really? I didn’t notice..” He teased with a grin. Before she could say anything else, Mr. Compress excused himself to talk to Kurogiri. She calmly said goodbye before her facial expression turned into a really pissed off one. She turned to Dabi with an annoyed look. She looked almost menacing. Steam could be seen coming out of her mouth.
He had done it! He finally got her to snap! But why did he feel… afraid? Her face looked almost scary to him, unrecognisable to him. To look composed and calm, he grinned with mischief. “What’s wrong, love? Cat got your tongue?” He cheekily said.
Dabi was caught off guard when she pulled him towards her. His body slowly bent down as he was face to face with her. She was a few centimeters shorter than him. “Are you going to behave like this all day? You think this is funny, huh?” Her voice was low and menacing.
By now, Dabi was sweating bullets. He had to swallow hard, feeling a sudden wave of apprehension wash over him. He hadn't expected Y/N to react like this, to confront him so boldly. But even as fear prickled at the edges of his consciousness, he couldn't help but admire the fire in her eyes.
He grinned a weak grin, trying to compose himself. “It.. It was just a joke, love! You know I didn’t mean any harm!” He awkwardly chuckled. But Y/N wasn't buying it. She tightened her grip on his arm, her nails digging into his skin. "You crossed a line, Dabi," she growled, her voice cold and unforgiving. "And now, you're going to pay for it."
She grabbed his arm and dragged him to his room despite his protests. While she lived in her own apartment, Dabi didn’t have the money and agreed to stay at the League’s base after Shigaraki’s proposal. She tossed him onto the bed and straddled him as she took off his shirt before taking off all of his garments, leaving him bare on the bed.
She took his belt and tied it around his arms onto the headboard. He squirmed in his place as he tried to get out of it. Y/N could see Dabi’s flames starting to ignite. She felt pissed at his attempt to escape. She slapped him harshly on his thigh, causing him to flinch.
“Don’t you dare use your flames on me.” She sneered, causing Dabi to stop his flames. She sat in between his quivering legs, she forcefully spread them open and placed them beside her hips. He tried to close them but that just earned him a slap on his thigh and a grunt out of his mouth.
She scoffed with annoyance. “You’re shivering? This was your own doing, fucking disturbing me during my conversations. You need to be taught manners.” She said before slapping his thigh again. He grunted again at the impact, the sting still lingering.
She quickly got to work, her hand on his erected cock. She stroked it slowly and painfully, teasing the tip with her thumb. His groans slowly turned into low-pitched whines, his body squirming in place. She stopped him by grabbing him tightly on the hips. “Stop moving,” she demanded with a low tone.
Despite it had only been minutes, Dabi could feel his release. But before he could even release, he felt a finger probing his entrance and a thumb covering his slit, preventing him from releasing. “Why did you-” His speech was cut off by Y/N’s lips on his. His sounds were muffled by her lips as she continued her assault on his body.
He didn’t know what was so arousing about this. He shouldn’t like this! But as she continued the same action, he could feel himself losing himself to the pleasure. Her lips eventually left his, her face close to his. “So, are you going to behave?” She whispered. And as a last attempt of keeping his dignity and ego, he smirked with his tired eyes. “Fuck off, bitch..”
“Oh? Is that how you want to behave today? Fine.” She slapped him on the thigh again before squeezing it harshly. With lube on her fingers, she slowly pushed a finger inside his entrance, ignoring his whines. “Stop..” He muttered softly, almost like a whisper. She started to finger his ass, slowly making room for two.
She looked down at his leaking cock, red and angry, begging for its release. With a random idea in her head, she flicked the tip with her index and thumb, getting a sudden moan out of the scarred man. She was surprised by his response. But her surprised look turned into a face of amusement. She flicked his tip again, getting the same response from before.
She couldn't believe how quick Dabi was to falter. His moans started too much louder and higher in pitch. Everytime he tried releasing, a thumb on his tip prevented him. She fingered around his insides, trying to find that one spot.
“Ah!” He yelped, feeling a sudden spark in his stomach. He looked down to see the massive grin on his lover’s face. She hit that spot once again, causing a moan out of him. She continuously stimulated that one spot while stroking his cock.
He ended up releasing all over Y/N’s hand, aching his back as he felt his release. Her smile grew even bigger. “Now, this.. This is going to be fun.”
He knew… He was in for it now..
· • —– ٠ 𓆩♡𓆪 ٠ —– • ·
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urarakasdiary · 1 day
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-LILY OF THE VALLEY (2)
Jjk men as your lover! part 2
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ITADORI
He's a bit shy and gets flustered quickly.
He loves getting you flowers or cute things he finds.
Will get you a souvenir from all the places he has been to.
He also loves it when both of you are matching/ have matching things.
He's adorable.
YUTA
Has a hard time expressing his emotions but he will try.
Writes you letters and clicks candid photos of you.
Would burn the world for you.
He would defo take you to Africa to introduce you to his friends.
You both travel the world together.
INUMAKI
Writing to you is his form of communication since he can't talk. And even if he does speak, you have a hard time understanding what he's trying to say.
Whenever he stops by your place he brings your favorite snacks and drinks.
He's such a sweetheart.
Wants to spend all his waking hours with you.
TOJI
He's cold to people, but not you.
His world revolves around you. He just knows you're the one.
If anyone's bothering you, you know damn well that person will be admitted to the hospital.
His financial situation is far from good but if you eye anything, even out of his budget, he will buy it for you. (Even is that means robbing a bank).
OK that's all I have for the jjk men headcanons. I don't really know any other jjk characters so I only wrote about the ones I know 😭 Sorry for taking so long to upload this. Life's been tough. Hope you all the best, and hope you enjoyed <3
Requests are open :)
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mhathotfic · 1 day
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Ha, exercising endorphins are crazy effective motivators apparently. Anyway, here's some yandere Dabi.
Warnings: yandere, homestock syndrome, codependency, implied abuse/a romanticized view of one's abuse, dubcon/noncon, implied breeding kink, cliffhanger ending
Pairing: Dabi (Touya Todoroki) x reader
Codependency, what a horrid drug that was.
Toxic and lethal, disgustingly sweet and impossible to give up. What a fucked way to say ‘I love you, I need you’, it's the only way they knew how to though.
And what a fucking mess that was too.
For her to love him, to need him as desperately as they needed air to live. A man who couldn't possibly know the meaning of, or reason why he loved her.
To love a monster who kept her under lock and key, who stole her from everything she once knew and loved.
What a mess.
She thinks she should hate him.
He's littered her flesh with marks, bruises and burns, evidence that he's touched her. Evidence that he's far too rough, too unstable to love as gently and sweetly as she deserves. She still runs her fingers along fresh marks as if they were trophies. Proof he loved her, just a touch too passionately.
She thinks she should run the next chance she gets, but she never takes it. What would she do if she left? He needs her to keep him sane, he's said so, told her over and over again. She needs to stay, she can't leave him!
She should say no, should hold her legs tightly together, but she couldn't help the way her body and heart betrayed her.
Couldn't help the stuttering gasps as long slender fingers entered her.
“Say it Doll, you know what I want to hear”
His voice is low with an almost pleading tone like he was the one begging for the pleasure of sweet release. Fingers moving painfully slow as he stared down at her withering form.
“Please T-Touya, l-love you!”
She pleads in response, desperate for him to believe her, that she wants to stay by him because she is just as in love with him.
His fingers speed up for a moment, hurtling her toward her orgasm only to stop abruptly. Pulling a whine from her and a confused look.
“Do you?”
He’s unreadable. Flat-toned and blank gaze as she struggled to sit up only to be pinned down by too-hot hands that threatened to burn her again.
“I do! I-I love you! I—”
“You'll make me a father then?”
Her eyes widened, he wants kids? He couldn't be a father, could he? She shouldn't let him, but, maybe a baby would be nice. Maybe it'll give her a real reason to stay maybe it'll make him better.
“P-please! Give me a baby!”
She pleads and he's quick to respond and push into her wait entrance.
Groaning at the warmth enveloping his cock and savoring it for a moment before starting a ruthless pace, only truly chasing his own pleasure, toying with her clit almost as if it was an afterthought.
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neurthotic · 5 months
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DABI AS A BOYFRIEND ✫
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✫ incurably watches you sleep. you get used to waking up to it eventually. maybe.
✫ neck kisses all the time
✫ his communication skills are shit. you feel like a kindergarten teacher explaining to his expressionless face how to talk about our feelings
✫ he keeps a hand on your back or your shoulder or in your hair when you’re together, absently keeping track of you
✫ “you’re cute when you’re scared.”
✫ warm ass hands
✫ he definitely has a weird and scary thing for pain. “you want to touch the staples? yeah, you can touch them. you can rip them out of my face with your teeth if you like.”
✫ dabi doesn’t do nicknames. pet names are once in a blue moon.
✫ driest texter to walk the earth
✫ the self deprecating jokes are actually mad funny. sir please stop calling yourself crispy
✫ gets very um. creative about degradation.
✫ it’s all “come get in the shower with me” and then you stick a toe in and the water is two degrees away from freezing to ice. sorry not all of us have fire inside okay
✫ he doesn’t like you cautious around his injuries, even treating/tending them: “stop being fucking gentle with me.”
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kirbyskisses · 1 year
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cw: breeding
dabi who practically explodes when you call him his real name while fucking. the revelation that it’s not just the villain you love - it’s all of him - the villain, the tortured child, the man who loves you - every part of him.
your mouth lets out a weak “touya” while he’s inside you and suddenly he loses all control - hips rutting ‘nd bucking into you like a dog. he practically cums on the spot, shaking and grunting loudly through a world-shattering orgasm.
then, he’s practically drooling; doing and saying anything to hear it drop from your lips.
“say it again, babygirl. c’mon, say my name.” he moans - dick as deep as it can go, before sliding out all the way to the tip and shoving back in, kissing your most plush, sensitive spot with every stroke.
“t-t-touya~” weakly rolls its way out of your lips as white cream from just before spills out of you onto the sheets below with every thrust.
“no, louder baby, c’mon… say it for me”
“t-touya-”
“that’s it. who’s making you feel good?”
“you are, touya~” you squeal, his hands gripping the meat of your thighs to push you further into a mating press.
“whose pussy is this, doll?”
“yours, touya. it’s j’st for you!”
“that’s right. all mine. and i’m the one you love right? i’m the whose baby you want - whose cum you need, aren’t i?” his blue eyes stare down at you in a mix of possessiveness, love, lust and desperation.
“yes. yes it’s you, touya - I love you, touya. want you, touya. want to have your baby, touya.”
dabi touya swears he’s never cum harder in his life.
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matchamiko · 24 days
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Touya getting close to tears when you ride him for the first time, because he’s not used to the gentle touches and affectionate kisses you give to his hands as he’s clutching yours. Laying back against the puffy pillows of your bed, head tipped almost all the way back so you can only see him if you really strain. One scarred hand gripping your waist with yours over the top, and the other arm looped over his eyes, hiding the shame or hiding how emotional you make him. He’s not especially aggressive, he can’t bring himself to when you’re milking his cock for all his worth and holding his free hand as if keeping him rooted to the moment. It’s sweet, it’s kind, it’s gracious of you to keep up such a writhing pace, doing all the work, taking his cock deep in your belly over and over without a complaint.
You know he needs it, needs you creaming all over his lap and shoving his palm over your tits, leaving him be when he chokes out a sob when you ask to cum with a shaky whimper. Touya’s lip is bloody, bitten to shreds and he only looks at you when you caress his stomach and settle into a pulsing grind. Only then do his eyes flash with tears from beneath his forearm and his hand grips the giving fat of your breast, rough palm catching your nipple so deliciously that you call him name.
And that’s what he needs most. Touya, Touya please! Cum with me, I want it so bad Touya ! The slap of your bodies almost drowning out the wretched grunts torn from his chest, his other arm finally coming to wrap round your waist, heaving you up into his chest and swallowing your cries, replacing them with his own. Cumming just like that, wrapped up in you and the touches you lathe over his shoulders, his bulked arms and back, kisses pressed to his open mouth and his tongue. You don’t say anything about the glossiness of his eyes. You pretend to not hear him sniffle when you kiss him properly, lazily after you come. You just kiss him again, and again and ask him for one more, that you think he needs it one more time, that he deserves it one more time.
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ca4dy · 2 months
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I can’t get over the idea of a big, beefy, pure hunk of mussel man getting absolutely destroyed by his little wife/girlfriend! There known to be an absolute monster in the streets. Crushing anyone they get there large, scared hands on in a fight. But in the comfort of your shared bed he’s nothing but a puddle of what he used to be underneath you. Panting whiny pleas, and apologizing over and over as you fuck yourself on his monster dick. Just a moment earlier he was staring down at you with a lopsided grin. “ Aww you think you can top me baby? When you get tired just let daddy know.. I’ll be sure to take care of ya.” Oh if only you had a camera to show everyone his pathetic state. He whined staring up at you with half lidded, teary eyes. Sweat shone on his forehead and chest as he panted, his grip tightened by the second on your waist. He sobbed before releasing a guttural moan. He threw his head back up into the pillows, before spilling his hot load in your dripping sex. You stilled on top of him momentarily relishing in the feeling of fullness. He barely opened his eyes staring up at you silently begging for mercy. You cooed at his shuddering while rolling your hips into his cock. You smiled feeling sickly sweet as you stared him down. You leaned forward slightly beginning to tweak his hardened nipples. “ when you get tired just let mommy know…I’ll be sure to take care of ya.” You quickly straddled him, his shine covered cock slipping inside your stretched cunt again easily. His eyes shot opened as he released a string of curses.
Izuku Midoriya, Touya Todoroki, Gojo Satoru, Hakari Kinji, Tengen Uzui, Inosuke Hashibira, Eren Yeager, Jean Kristien, Denji Hayakawa~
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andypantsx3 · 7 months
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DEAD RECKONING : TODOROKI TOUYA x READER
SUMMARY: A makeup artist at a haunted maze, all you want to do is make it to the end of the season with a little extra cash in your pocket and no murder convictions on your record. Scare actor Todoroki Touya makes that last part a challenge. (7.8k) CONTENT & WARNINGS: no quirks au, halloween, enemies to lovers, fem + afab reader, slight scumbag touya, haunted maze workers, smut, semi-public sex, smoking, heavy swearing, touya likes having his hair pulled + girls who are a little mean to him, sort of good girl vs bad boy vibes, 18+ minors please dni NOTES: Happy Halloween from me!! This fic is part of the Willow's Haunted House collab. Dedicated to cat-slippered and ofmermaidstories, for workshopping what eventually became this fic with me about a thousand years ago. I’m sorry I turned Bakugou into Dabi. And I’m sorry for dedicating the now Dabi fic to you. But not sorry enough to not have done it. Love you. :)
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If there was one thing you hated about Halloween, it was Todoroki Touya.
Shockingly, this was not a commonly-held sentiment, which was the only reason there even was a recurrence of Todoroki Touya darkening your Halloween seasons in the first place.
For the last three years, you’d spent your fall semester working as a makeup artist at the Musutafu haunted maze alongside a slew of other college and local kids looking to make a little extra cash. The hours were fairly flexible, and the wage covered your textbooks, with a little left over to keep you in the occasional coffee between lectures.
But your wages did not nearly cover the amount of psychic damage you had been dealt, managing Todoroki Touya’s obnoxious, sarcastic, chain-smoking ass day after day for seasons on end.
On lucky days, someone else was on Touya duty. But on unlucky ones, you found him sprawling in the plastic makeup chair opposite you, those intense blue eyes tracking you with no small amount of pleasure, like he was this afternoon.
You stopped in the doorway, a curse slipping out of you. You’d been hoping that you’d get lucky today, as the day was otherwise an excellent one. You’d invited a group of friends to do the maze with you after you got off shift, and you had been looking forward to it all week.
But it figured Touya could never let you have too good of a time.
“Missed you too, sweetheart,” he drawled over the noise of displeasure that escaped you. He was at least already dressed in costume, so he wouldn’t go smearing his makeup as he pulled it on, a tumble of stitches and frayed edges that had once been a dark-blue duster, but now just mostly gaped open to show the hard planes of his chest.
“I’m so sure,” you told him, averting your eyes from his pecs. You sighed, resigning yourself to his presence, and made your way in, dumping your bag on the staff room couch.
“This is a very hostile work environment you’re creating,” Touya rasped, his grin sharp. Years of chain-smoking outside the maze had left his voice even lower and raspier than when you’d first met him three years ago.
“Don’t worry, it can always get more hostile,” you told him, affecting your own sweet grin as you moved over to the vanity, digging through all the makeup and prosthetics for the ones he’d need.
Touya himself was severely scarred, which was likely why he’d applied to work at the haunted maze in the first place. You’d never asked him about his scars, but you’d heard enough gossip from the other maze workers to know that they were the product of a childhood accident, involving the burning down of his father’s—the then-and-current mayor’s—house.
He’d accentuated them with a shit load of facial piercings, and was sort of off-putting to look at the first time you caught a glimpse of him. The issue was that, once your eyes made sense of what they were seeing, he was infuriatingly handsome.
You’d heard he’d initially been unleashed on the maze with no makeup or prosthetics, and within the first evening was causing line backups, with all the parties of teen girls who were taking a little too much time lingering around his section of the maze.
So now he was subjected to prosthetics to make him uglier, a fact that he seemed to absolutely relish.
You dug out the monster prosthetic pack that gave him jutting forehead ridges. “Let’s make the outside reflect the inside, shall we,” you told him as you flapped the rubbery pieces at him, smirking your own little smirk.
Touya’s answering grin was wicked, and he relaxed back in his seat, sprawling his legs out wide in that infuriating way men had. “Think my outside is too pretty then, huh?” he asked, sapphire eyes flickering over you.
Your face went hot in a weird combination of anger and embarrassment. “I try not to think of your outside,” you told him pertly, making sure to slap the forehead piece onto him hard enough to make a splat noise.
His mouth twitched again but he let you go to work, gluing the pieces down against his face, careful not to press them to the seams of any of his scars. He was tall enough even lounging in his seat that you only had to lean over a little to focus clearly on his face, all long legs and rangy muscle.
This close, he always smelled like cigarette smoke, with an undercurrent of something rich and dark, like cinnamon or chocolate. You could never put your finger on it, but you were not about to go sniffing him at any length to figure it out, even if it was annoyingly appealing.
He’d probably love that, and would absolutely never let you live it down.
Touya’s eyes tracked you closely as you worked, but otherwise his expression was still, and you thought not for the first time that it really was too bad he was so obnoxious. He was actually quite handsome, with a soft, sensuous mouth, a blade-straight nose, and vivid blue eyes that all but glowed like the embers of a crackling fire when he was provoking you.
It was a shame he wasted all his beauty being the most annoying man on earth.
You’d heard from the other maze workers that he was relatively well-known around the area, having spent his teen years doing petty criminal shit to destabilize his father’s reelection campaigns, netting himself several jail stays and a record a mile long. He’d settled somewhat since he’d gotten a job at a piercing parlor downtown and several side gigs like the maze, but people weren’t fully convinced he’d abandoned his old ways, and he still clearly relished any opportunity to discomfort and destabilize anyone who got on his bad side.
Apparently including you.
“Don’t hurt yourself thinking too hard, sweetheart,” Touya said, those cerulean eyes blinking up at you.
You realized you’d paused over him, midway through blending his prosthetic forehead in, and another annoying little smirk rode his mouth.
You took care to roll your eyes at him, gesturing at him with your brush. “I know several places I can stick this if you’re not careful.”
Touya’s smirk melted into an unholy grin. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he rasped, eyes glittering up at you.
You went back to work on him with a little more force than necessary, blending hard enough that you saw his broad shoulders shift in an effort to keep his neck braced. “I doubt any time with you could be classed as good,” you said pertly, giving a final few brushes before stepping back, satisfied with your work.
The forehead made him look unhinged as he offered another smirk, leaning forward. “True—the feedback I usually get is ‘incredible’, ‘mind-blowing’, ‘earth-shattering’, ‘toe-curling’, ‘scream-inducing’—”
“Oh I’ll scream if you keep talking,” you said hotly, even as your cheeks warmed. Even with the stupid fucking forehead he was annoyingly handsome. You needed him a thousand million miles away from you before you herniated something, jumping back and forth between annoyance and attraction.
Maybe it was time to stop signing up to work here.
“Now get out of my room, I have other people waiting,” you commanded, thankful when you heard the scuff of a boot at the door confirming another maze worker waiting.
Touya didn’t look at all chastened, but he unfolded himself from the chair in an unfurling of broad shoulders and long legs. He leaned in close as he passed, voice dipping low. “See you later, sweetheart,” he said, a smile curling his mouth.
Annoyingly, his proximity crossed a bunch of the wires in your brain, and you fumbled before managing, “Not if we’re both lucky.”
“Stop, I’ll blush,” he drawled, another unholy grin splitting his cheeks before he saluted two fingers at you and ducked out of the room. The scent of smoke and cinnamon followed him, and you let out a sigh of relief, the air and your brain clearer now that he was gone.
No sooner were you free of him, however, than another problem was immediately introduced.
“So…he actually talks to you?” The other maze worker’s head poked through the door, her eyes resting on you intently. You recognized her as a local highschooler who’d just joined this season, who usually ended up getting in early enough to get her makeup done by the other artist.
You blinked. “I…unfortunately?” you answered, confused.
She stepped into the room, and you reflexively gestured her over to the chair that Touya had just abandoned.
She hummed as she took her seat, eyeing you curiously. “Wow. How’d you get him to do that? He doesn’t really talk to any of us,” she informed you.
You could feel your eyebrows lift towards your hairline. “He…doesn’t…?”
She shook her head, her pretty golden ringlets swaying with the motion. “He’ll chainsmoke with Tomura and he sometimes talks to Himiko. But the other girls—they say he just laughs and walks away if they try to chat with him.”
Well. That sounded rude enough to be true to form, you thought. But when Touya was in your makeup chair you couldn’t get him to shut the hell up. You shifted, uncomfortable with the idea that Touya had any special soft spot for you. Maybe, like a cat, he could sense who didn’t much like him and decided to latch on out of spite.
“You might be a little young for him,” you decided, going over to the vanity and digging out the prosthetics she’d need—a witch chin and a raised gorey slash that would open along one cheekbone.
“No—it’s all the other girls too. And most of the guys,” she told you. “He must like you.”
A laugh escaped you, and you turned back to her with the prosthetics in hand, a few new brushes and a white, cakey paint palette shoved beneath your elbow.
“I don’t think he likes anyone,” you told her, setting everything down and applying the tacky glue to the underside of her chin prosthetic. “I think he just likes to inflict himself on people he knows it will annoy. You could act disinterested in talking to him and he’d probably come flitting right over.” The image of Touya suffering at the hands of a league of flirty high school girls pleased you—better they suck up his time and energy than you.
“I don’t know,” the girl said uncertainly. “Maybe he likes you.” But she was forced to leave it at that once you started applying her chin, making it difficult for her to speak.
You certainly didn’t think that was the case.
But the seeds of doubt had already been sown, a question that you thought would probably haunt your evening now that it had been formed. Just why did Touya talk to you if he was so standoffish with other people? And what did it mean that he made such a point of it?
You knew for sure it wasn’t because he liked you, his obnoxious manner said that well enough. But why did you get treatment that was significant enough that even the other maze workers would comment on it?
And, perhaps even more concerningly, why did the thought agitate you so much?
You decided to try your best not to think about it, and have a good time with your friends once they got there, putting Touya out of your mind. You returned to doing the girl’s makeup with vigor, suddenly as eager to get her out of your chair as you had been Touya.
She was finished in record time and she thanked you, carefully not to smile too widely lest she dislodge the prosthetics. You took in the next person waiting as she left, slowly working your way through the line of people as the hour drew ever closer to the maze’s evening opening time.
Eventually you finished up and collected your things, making your way out front to find your friends already waiting for you. They’d clearly dressed with the intent to go out after—something you hadn’t considered—their dresses short and slinky and their makeup smoky. You’d have liked to have joined, but you were still in the sweater and leggings you’d come straight from lectures in.
Maybe you would have time to go home and change after the maze.
You were scooped up into several hugs, breathing in the sweet scents of various perfumes, and informed that you absolutely did have to go home and get changed after so you could come out and get “Hallowasted!” too.
“Okay if I’m not busy peeing my pants, which monsters are the ones you did?” your roommate asked, dancing around to warm herself in the cool fall air. “I wanna see ‘em.”
You named several of your creations, conveniently leaving off Touya. You knew that if your friends took too close a look at him and figured out what he looked like under the cakey makeup and forehead prosthetic, they’d never leave the maze. You knew he sat somewhere around the end of the set up, in an alcove that had been decorated to look like an abandoned village with burned out cabins, a mess of bones dotting the ground at the side of the walkway.
You were also hoping you could pass unnoticed in the group of your friends, as there was no doubt in your mind that Touya would take special care to annoy you in particular. So you did not want your group to linger long enough for your friends to scope him out.
You would know it was him under the makeup you’d done yourself, but being cornered somewhere in the dark with the soundtrack of screams echoing in your ears would not exactly have you feeling your boldest.
Your group had dinner at the food trucks parked out front, chatting and laughing and waiting for the crowds to die down, each indulging in one drink for bravery before joining the line. Eventually you ended up at the front of the queue, late in the evening, your friends crowding in behind you, whispering nervously.
“You first,” your roommate hissed when you looked back at them questioningly. “You work here, you have to do the honors.”
You sighed, accepting your fate, making a mental note to subtly shift to the back of the pack as you made it further into the maze.
Then you were being greeted by Shigaraki Tomura, whose makeup you’d done last. He’d been given layers of prosthetic peeling skin and a scar at his mouth, and he was decorated with a layer of disembodied hands gripping him all over. He shredded your tickets, looking unenthused.
“Remember that inside the maze, none of the monsters can touch you,” he recited dully. “You are not permitted to touch them in return; do not hit, kick, push, bite, slap, lick, scratch, or otherwise assault the actors. Don’t tamper with the props, do not leave items behind. Be respectful of other guests and do not linger too long in the rooms. If you need to leave for any reason, every room or alcove has clearly-lit exits marked in red.”
His eyes briefly met yours as he waved you through, and you thought you saw a pale brow go up.
But then you were being shoved forward by your friends, several hands clinging to your arms and the back of your shirt, and you stepped forward into the dark of the hall.
The maze truly was a labyrinth—it started indoors in a pitch black room, with fake body bags hanging from the ceiling. Toga Himiko, a highschooler whose makeup you usually did, stalked you around the edges of the room, dressed in a torn school uniform with fangs peeking out of her widely grinning mouth, and a dripping knife clutched eagerly in her fingers.
Once you made it past her, the maze spilled outdoors, into a tangle of hedges and artificially-constructed set, steering you in twisting loops around the property.
You were pleased with how terrifying all the actors looked, even having done most of their prosthetics yourself, and found your heart racing as you took every new corner, found yourself freezing up and stumbling back whenever someone jumped out at you, suppressing a shriek.
Your friends participated with gusto, shrieking and ducking away from the monsters, holding you like a human shield between them and the maze workers. You would have been insulted if it hadn’t been so funny.
You made it through most of the maze with little trouble, passing through a haunted swamp, a graveyard with mummies twisting and screaming in their bindings, grasping for you. You stumbled past a man wielding a chainsaw and a set of clowns waving axes, making it through in record time thanks to the push of your frantic friends behind you.
It was only on the last leg of the maze that you finally ran into Touya.
You peered around the corner, recognizing the set up instantly. The burned out houses flickered with blue flame, lighting up the set in an eerie, unsettling sapphire light. The fake bones on the ground sat in piles of ash, glowing stark white in the light. You couldn’t spot Touya anywhere, and you slowly crept forward, trying to shepherd your friends in front of you.
You even almost thought you had been successful, until a rasping voice drawled behind you, “Hello sweetheart.”
And then your roommate screamed, bolting forward, knocking into you and sending you stumbling over a pile of the fake bones. You landed hard on your ass in the patchy grass, the wind punching out of you.
“Oh fuck—” you heard one of your friends say as she too was steamrolled, and you watched the group of them trip over one another in their desperation to get through the alcove, dissolving into chaos in a matter of seconds.
You quickly tried to get to your feet to follow, but a hiss forced its way through your teeth when you tried your ankle, a wave of sharp pain washing over you.
Oh fuck. Not good.
The tread of a boot in the grass next to you made you jump, and your head whipped up to catch sight of Touya crouching over you.
“You good down there?” he asked. His eyes glinted in the dark of the maze, and the blue light cast shadows over his features, twisting them in the dim. Your heartbeat picked up, even as your brain recognized him for who he was.
You cringed, embarrassed that you’d had to hurt yourself in his part of the maze specifically. It figured.
“I’m fine,” you said quickly, trying to climb to your feet again. Your ankle twinged in protest, and Touya must have caught the flash of pain on your face because then his hand was under your elbow, supporting you as you rose in an unexpected show of courtesy.
Although he broke the illusion immediately when he opened his mouth again.
“Yeah you look real fine,” he said, quirking an eyebrow. With the prosthetic forehead it made him look sort of demented.
“Well I’ll be fine,” you insisted, even as those blue eyes flickered over you assessingly. His fingers tightened a little on your arm before he bent down, tapping his other hand on your leg.
“Which leg, sweetheart?” he asked. “And where?”
It took you a minute to catch up to what he was asking, confused at seeing him on his haunches before you. A scream went up in the background, some terrified maze goer, and a little shiver went down your spine.
“Uh, the left ankle,” you supplied, startling when Touya’s fingers slid underneath the cuff of your legging over the aforementioned ankle, rolling it up gently. You blinked, surprised at the careful touch.
“Can’t see too well in the dark,” he announced. “But it looks like you ripped it open on something.” He peered back up at you. “Think it’s sprained?”
You shook your head. “Probably just rolled. It hurts but not like go-to-the-hospital level,” you said. “Just give me a minute, I’ll be good.”
Touya considered you for a moment, then got to his feet, moving closer. That scent of smoke and cinnamon drifted over to you, and he bent his head to look into your face.
“Much as you’re the most terrifying thing in this maze, I don’t think people are gonna wanna see you here,” he told you, a smirk cutting into his mouth. “Would ruin the experience. So we’re gonna have to get you out of here.”
You scowled up at him, crossing your arms over your chest. Well no thanks for the concern, then. “I’m going, I’m going, keep your shirt on,” you told him, preemptively gritting your teeth before readying yourself to take another step.
But before you could, one of Touya’s hands was suddenly sliding under your knees, his other slipping behind your shoulder. In the next second the burning buildings were swinging wildly in front of your eyes, and then you were being hefted up into Touya’s arms. You let out a startled yelp, your own hands shooting out to grab his jacket, giving him a wild-eyed look.
“Touya—!” you garbled out, as a smile pulled at his expression.
“Relax, sweetheart,” he told you, looking a little too smug about the situation he’d just put you in. He strode towards the exit, kicking the door open with a heavy boot, carrying you down the hall and back into the building. He was hard with wiry muscle underneath you, and so deliciously warm against you. Your ears went hot with every sure, easy step he took, like carrying you was little effort for him.
Thankfully it was barely a minute before you reached the staff room, where Touya laid you out gently on the couch, much more carefully than you might have expected from him.
Your cheeks and your nose burned, flaming even hotter when he squatted down in front of you and took your ankle in his hand again.
His dark eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he took note of your injury. In the light you could definitely see that you’d caught your ankle bone on one of the fake bones you’d tripped over, as there was a long gash up the side of it, but nothing else looked bruised or otherwise concerning. You thought you’d probably be fine in a couple hours, just a roll.
It was definitely nothing Touya had needed to princess carry you through the staff halls for!
“Don’t move,” Touya told you, and you watched, bewildered, as he stepped away, stalking over to the other side of the room where the staff lockers were. He dug out a shabby backpack, pulling something out of it, and then returned to your side, spreading out his haul on the couch next to you.
You noted a little tube of rubbing alcohol, an antiseptic cream and a bandage, as well as an ice pack. One of your eyebrows went up.
“You rob a hospital or something?” you asked reflexively, heart fluttering a little bit weirdly when Touya’s eyes flickered back up to yours. His eyelashes were long and thick, startlingly pretty.
“Nah,” he said, his gaze cutting suddenly away from yours. “Usually keep shit on hand for my burns.”
Your stomach flipped, and you realized how rude your question had been. Embarrassment welled up in a hard lump in your throat. Well shit. “Oh—fuck. Of course. I’m sorry, Touya.”
A pinch to your leg had you yelping, and his handsome face was serious when he stared back up at you, his eyes practically glowing with intensity. “I don’t need your sympathy.”
You rolled your eyes, rubbing the skin he’d pinched absentmindedly. “It wasn’t sympathy, asshole,” you said. “It was an apology for being thoughtless. Although if that’s how you’re gonna be then I take it back, geez. As if you need sympathy when every girl in this maze—” you froze, clamping your mouth shut when you realized what you’d been about to say. “Uhhhh.”
Touya’s eyes slowly slid down your face, flickering over you as another fucking obnoxious smirk started to twitch at the side of his mouth. “When every girl in this maze what?” he asked, pleasure turning his tone a little silky.
You rolled your eyes, leaning forward to grab the rubbing alcohol off of the couch so you didn’t have to look at him. “When every girl in this maze would like for you to shut up and stop asking questions,” you said, unscrewing the top with a deliberate focus.
Calloused fingers came up to yank the tube out of your grip, however, and Touya leaned in, his grin sharp and white.
“Lemme do it, sweetheart. Return the favor for my prosthetic,” he said. You winced, remembering how forcefully you’d applied his forehead earlier. As you braced yourself, however, his fingers brushed gently over your skin.
You suppressed a shiver at the feeling of him wiping off the blood with the rubbing alcohol, then going over it with the antibiotic cream, smearing it delicately, your nose going hot again. He took his time, careful to cover every inch, kneeling on the ground in front of you with your ankle clutched in one large hand. His duster fanned out behind him, dragging on the ground as he bent over you, but he didn’t seem to care, too absorbed in his task.
When he was done he carefully applied the bandage too, and you looked on, mystified, as he cracked the ice pack with long, strangely elegant fingers, and pressed it over your ankle bone as well.
His eyes flicked back to yours when you let out a short hiss, feeling the zing of the ice all the way in your teeth. Some of his expression looked squashed, given the obstruction of his prosthetic, but you thought he looked maybe just a little bit concerned, before he realized you were just being a baby. You were suddenly overcome with the urge to rip off his prosthetic so you could see his expression in full, and had to pin your arm to your side to stop yourself.
“This was—unexpected,” you admitted, watching him closely. “You’re…a surprisingly good nurse, Touya. Thank you.”
His answering smile was nothing short of wicked. “Anytime, sweetheart.”
You fumbled with the antiseptic and sniffed pointedly, just to have something to complain about. “Well. Your bedside manner could use some work.”
Touya leaned in, his smile suddenly going dark. “Oh, angel, now that’s not what I’ve been told—”
Your palm shot out to cover his mouth, horror overriding your normal brain function. Touya just laughed into the skin of your hand, however, shockingly boyish and sweet-sounding.
You pressed harder, hissing at him to shut the hell up, until you registered the feeling of dry, raised skin under your fingers. You jumped, realizing you were pressing down on his scars.
“Shit, did I hurt you—?” you asked, yanking your hand back, only for Touya to catch your wrist. He blinked, looking surprised that he had.
“No it’s—you didn’t—” he said. His fingers shifted over yours and his eyes darted over your hand in something like shock. “They get dry and pull but they don’t—it wasn’t that.” He sounded annoyed, but not that you’d touched him. That you’d pulled away from touching him.
Somehow, that settled you. Before you understood what exactly was possessing you, you reached back in, satisfied when Touya let you. The pads of your fingers met the edge of a scar again, feeling along the seam. You carefully traced over it the way Touya’s had just traced the cut on your ankle.
Touya’s eyelashes fluttered, and he let out a slow breath. “You don’t need to touch ‘em, sweetheart,” he said finally.
He said it as lightly as he’d said all his earlier nonsense, but he’d been giving you shit for long enough that you recognized there was something deliberate about the ease of his tone this time. This wasn’t his usual, natural timbre.
“Does it bother you?” you asked.
It seemed to take him a minute to decide.
“...No,” he answered, those cerulean eyes catching on yours again. You felt like you could feel your heartbeat in your own fingers, and your skin prickled with something—annoyingly not annoyance.
“Well then shut up,” you told him. “Or I’ll pinch you right on the seam.”
Touya laughed, a slow rolling sound. “Promises promises,” he said, but he seemed more relaxed.
You felt along the contours of his face, mystified by what the hell you thought you were even doing, until you reached the edge of the prosthetic you’d applied. It only took a second for you to give in to the impulse you’d had earlier and start peeling it from his skin, slow and deliberate.
You reached down and helped yourself to the rubbing alcohol, applying it around the prosthetic, letting it dissolve the adhesive before pulling gently. Shockingly, Touya let you do it. He just sat there, watching you with an intensity you’d never experienced before, hardly blinking.
You kept careful track of the prosthetic, unable to look him in the eye, focusing on rubbing off the makeup you’d used to blend it in for good measure. You tried not to examine the weirdly satisfied feeling that settled in your stomach when his natural face was visible to you again.
It was probably just his looks. He really was so handsome for such a grating personality.
You set the prosthetic aside, lost on where to go from here. Touya probably thought you were so fucking weird for just like, rubbing his face like he was some kind of cat. He certainly looked like he had no idea what to do now, which was such a departure from his usually snotty self-assurance that it threw you for an even bigger loop.
“Always thought you’d be a little rougher with me, sweetheart,” Touya finally managed, flashing you a smirk. It looked a little smaller than usual though, like he was drawing it up like a shield, but your hackles raised instantly, like always.
You always, always responded to him.
“Trust me, that can be arranged,” you promised darkly, trying to crack your knuckles. Only one of them crackled obligingly, however, and Touya blinked, before laughing again.
“Yeah?” he asked, leaning in closer. Cigarette smoke and cinnamon clouded your senses, fogging up your brain. “Gonna fuck me up nice and good, sweetheart?”
You dredged around for something snarky to say, but words were suddenly failing you as those infuriatingly pretty features drew closer. Seriously could a makeup artist not catch a break around here?
“Uhhh,” was all you managed, your brain bluescreening, as Touya huffed a laugh, exhaling over your mouth.
“Shut up,” you finally spat out, catching a fistful of that black hair. Touya groaned, however, looking like he liked that of all things, and a red hot flash of something jolted through you.
There was a pause, then, a tiny sliver of a moment where it seemed like one of you might pull back—move away and snipe at one another from a safer distance.
Things somehow seemed to be spiraling out of control, in a way you hadn’t expected, after just one kind gesture from him. You didn’t really understand how you’d suddenly found yourself with him leaning over you, your hand pulling at his hair, but if you had any good sense you’d have pulled away immediately and told him something extra mean, just for good measure.
Except then Touya opened his mouth and escalated things, as usual.
“Make me,” he said, the most absolutely heinous line of all time. You yanked his hair harder, deeply disgusted that he’d try that on you.
And then, like a thread had snapped, you leaned forward and crushed your mouth to his.
Touya reacted like a lightning strike. He surged up over you, weighing you down into the staff room couch. He tasted like spearmint muddled under bitter smoke, and he was broader than he looked under that duster, heavy with lean muscle. You could feel every kilo of it press you down into the cushions as Touya licked hot and filthy into your mouth.
His tongue curled around yours, wet and teasing, and he exhaled on a groan like he’d never tasted anything better. It sent little sparks of electricity jittering up your spine, especially as he shifted between your thighs, that trim waist slotting between them perfectly.
“Fuck, angel,” he said, his tone somewhere between sweet and nasty. “Wanted me this whole time, huh?”
You yanked harder on his hair, telling him to shut up, but the swelling of something hard against your thigh told you he only liked that more. “You are so nasty,” you told him, and you could feel his mouth curl into a wicked grin against the side of your face, before he leaned in and bit the shell of your ear, grinding the evidence of his interest even harder into your thigh.
“I can show you nasty, sweetheart,” he promised, his tone going silky-soft again. A calloused hand slid up into your shirt brazenly, long fingers teasing the underside of your bra. When you didn’t immediately try to yank him out of there he wiggled in further, until his fingers met your nipples, and he got even harder against your leg.
He pinched carefully, moving back to kiss you again so that the sound that escaped you was muffled into his mouth. He kissed you harder as your nipples tightened, pebbling in his fingers, something far too satisfied filling the air around you. His hips canted up, grinding himself into you again, this time a little closer to your core.
Your own hips shifted, moving to increase the friction, trying to shift him closer to your center. His fingers and tongue teased you, each flick of his tongue mirroring the caress of a finger, the soft pinch of his index and thumb.
You couldn’t have controlled yourself if you wanted, too focused on the sensations he was drawing from you, the desperate need to get closer to him though you were already pressed together from mouth to shin. You realized you’d been pulling at his coat when he finally withdrew from your shirt and let you yank it down his arms, exposing a patchwork of scars over dense, mouth-wateringly well-defined muscle.
You inhaled sharply, and Touya paused for a minute—until he seemed to realize that you were fixated on the shape of his arm, rather than the purple bruise of scar tissue. The quickening of his grin in the corner of your vision told you that you’d pleased him.
“You like that, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice obnoxiously sweet. “Want to see the rest of me, angel?”
You ripped your eyes off of his arm to glare at him, which only made his grin wider. The fluorescent lights behind him limned his hair in a pale light, blinding you when he moved his head—and all of a sudden you recalled where you were and what you were doing.
“Here? No! Touya, anyone could walk in!” you said, trying to scramble out from beneath him.
Touya caught you around the thigh, hauling you back underneath him. You noticed he was careful to angle your leg up so you didn’t catch your ankle against the arm of the couch.
“This is far from the worst thing I’ve done in a public place,” he said, laying himself back out over you.
You pushed at his shoulder though, casting a worried glance back at the door. “I am not trying to get fired,” you hissed, even as you shivered with the delicious heat of him over you.
Touya sighed through his nose, and then heaved himself off the couch. You watched him seize the plastic makeup chair and haul it over to the door, stuffing it under the knob at an angle so that it held the lock in place. Then he turned around and prowled right back to you with predatory intent. Your stomach fluttered.
“Better, angel?” he asked, tone soft.
You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of nodding, but he seemed to know what you wanted anyway, leaning back in to kiss you fiercely.
You melted into the feeling of his mouth over yours, kissing him back just as passionately. You hated how good he was at that, hated how pretty he was under all those scars and piercings, hated how his obnoxious personality wasn’t even a factor in what you wanted to do with him right now.
Touya groaned again when you pulled at a fistful of his dark hair, and then you were dragging him down to the couch and climbing into his lap. Touya seized your left leg as you did, pointedly guiding your ankle away from the edge of the seat, and it only inflamed your desire for him.
“Like you a whole lot better like this,” he said into your mouth, as calloused fingers slid into your leggings.
Your reply was cut off by a moan as he traced his index finger lightly over the center of your panties, before pressing down firmly over your clit. A thousand little points of electricity lit up under your skin, and you shifted into his hand unthinkingly.
A smile formed against your lips, and it was only Touya’s hand making its way into your panties that suppressed the annoyed buzz that started in the back of your brain.
“You kick up such a fuss, sweetheart, but look at what you really think of me,” Touya purred as his fingers slid up into your incriminatingly wet folds. “All this for me, angel?”
You wanted to bite him for his cheek but you feared breaking the skin of his scars, so you settled for giving him a pointed look. He just laughed, his smile smug.
“I’ll show you what I’ve really thought of you too, sweetheart,” he promised, taking hold of your leg again to slide your leggings and panties down. He settled you back over the hard line in his pants, grabbing your hips and pulling you firmly down over it, grinning.
“Love when you’re a spitfire little fucking brat. I’ve imagined taking you right over the vanity every single day for the last three years, sweetheart. Taking you against the lockers and then right here over the couch. Fucking you so hard that you scream and everyone comes running in to see you squirming and crying and begging on my cock, and you want it so much that you don’t even care—”
He laughed when he felt you clench up in his lap, working to unbuckle his belt and free himself, immediately angling you over him. “You want that too, sweetheart? Want to see if I can make you scream so loud that people come to see what’s wrong?”
“My god you never shut up,” you told him, pointedly avoiding the question. In lieu of an answer, you shifted, guiding him to your center and sinking down onto him instead. You watched with satisfaction as he threw his head back and hissed at the feeling of you slipping down around him.
“Fffffffffffuck,” he said to the ceiling, a hand tightening in your sweater. You had to agree, gritting your teeth with the delicious slide of him inside of you, hot and thick and full and perfect. You leaned in, putting your mouth over the scar tissue on his neck, smirking when he exhaled shakily again.
“I think,” Touya huffed. “I should have put you over my lap three fucking years ago.”
You thought back to your first glimpse of him, flicking ash at you as he chainsmoked outside the maze entrance, and thought you would have probably gouged his eyes out if he had tried. Honestly he’d barely scraped together enough good will with his little ankle treatment as it was.
But maybe this is what that girl had been talking about, when she said Touya didn’t talk to anyone besides you. Had he really been more into you than he’d let on, these three years? Is that why he’d been at your throat this entire time?
The thought was lost when Touya’s hips lifted into yours, grinding himself into you just right, and your head fell back with a shivery moan. Touya’s mouth found the skin of your throat and sucked as he bucked up into you, picking up into a faster pace. You rocked back and forth over his lap, guided by Touya’s grip on your hips, relishing in the feel of him inside of you.
His fingers slid back down, brushing over your clit, and you bit down a yelp as he dragged his thumb over it firmly.
“That’s it,” he said, biting down softly on your neck. “Let me hear you, sweetheart.”
You pressed a hand over your mouth instead as he slid in and out of you, those clever fingers working you deftly. He pinched softly, then swirled the pad of his thumb firmly over your clit again, groaning and pounding up into you. “I wanna hear you, sweetheart. Always want to hear your mean little mouth.”
“Touya—shut up—” you panted as he moved you how he wanted, played you like an instrument. Between his fingers and the hard press of him inside you, you felt like you couldn’t escape the pleasure, the feeling mounting within you. No matter how you moved your hips, his fingers were there to meet you, rubbing maddening circles, teasing you mercilessly, and he filled you so good that it felt like he was pressing against that spot from the inside too.
You writhed with the feel of him, as he steadily covered your neck and shoulders with marks of his attention. You couldn’t help but moan, much much louder than you would have liked, and Touya leaned back to look at you again, looking pleased.
“That’s it, yeah,” he said, another grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Louder for me, sweetheart. Want you to come for me.”
You huffed, unable to do anything but squirm in his lap, chasing the feeling closer, ever closer to the edge. You weren’t going to let his infuriating attitude ruin this for you, not when you were so close—
Without input from your brain, your hand reached out to grab a fistful of Touya’s hair again and his hips stuttered, slamming up into you with more force than he had previously. He looked a little shocked, and then a little dazed, and the grip he had on the side of your hip tightened almost to the point of bruising as he forced you down onto him harder, gasping.
“Fuck, yeah, sweetheart—fuck yes,” he rasped.
His fingers rubbed you harder, and his hips slapped up into you frantically. The uptick in intensity had your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head, and you bit your palm to keep the sounds in.
Touya ground into you with a renewed fervor, and it was only another matter of seconds before something inside of you was being wrenched loose. You lost the grip on your control, every nerve ending in your body lighting up and coming alive, singing with pleasure. You seized up, crying, “Oh my god, Touya!” and then you were cumming hard, harder than you ever had, Touya’s talented fingers still working you, his cock still fucking you mercilessly.
Touya swore, spitting out your name like a curse, and then again in almost reverent tones, before he too was following you right off the edge. He slammed you down on him once, twice, and then he was cumming too—shivering against you as he held you tight against him.
The silence of the room around you was ringing, once you managed to return to yourself. Touya was a long, hot, hard wall of muscle between your thighs, his hair mussed and a patch of makeup you’d missed smearing into the hair at his temple. His cheeks were flush with effort over the seam of his scars, and he looked, irritatingly, even more beautiful than he usually did.
Like he could sense what you were thinking, the corner of his mouth rose as those cerulean eyes searched over you, blinking like a pleased cat.
“Fuck, sweetheart. I knew I liked you mean,” he said, his raspy tone rougher than normal.
“And I don’t like you at all,” you sniffed, though you knew the protest was pointless when he was quite literally softening inside of you. You let go of his hair, remembering yourself.
“Aww angel don’t be like that,” he drawled, his grin widening. He leaned in, pressing a slow kiss over your mouth. “I can make it up to you—all three years, if you’ll let me.”
You knew he felt your involuntary shiver, pressed up against you like he was. And that was definitely answer enough for him, as his smile went more handsome and boyish than you’d ever seen it. You hated that you liked it.
“I’ll clean up and clock out,” Touya told you, gingerly helping you off of him and back into your leggings, his eyes fixating a little too closely on your legs as you did so. “You tell your friends you’re gonna go home and rest that ankle. And I’ll pick you up out front, angel.”
You flushed, embarrassed that you’d completely forgotten that you were at work, and you’d intended to go out bar hopping after. But you figured you could be forgiven just this one time.
“Fine,” you said, though your insides were feeling a little fluttery at the thought of leaving with Touya. “But I expect penitence or there’s going to be a reckoning.” You supposed you were owed, for all these years of suffering.
Touya looked down at you from under his lashes, dark and beautiful and still as infuriating as ever. “I’ll give you my best, sweetheart. Over and over until you can’t even walk,” he promised, “Gotta keep you off that ankle, after all.”
You flushed again, yanking your sweater down over your leggings, and fled out the door. Touya’s laughter floated after you, sounding pleased.
You sped up your pace, your ears burning.
And if you were actually rushing not to get away from him, but to return to him sooner? Well, then, nobody needed to know that but you.
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chosaya · 7 months
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1-868-SPOOKTOBER FEST !
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you’ve reached 1-868-SPOOKTOBER HOTLINE! where ghouls and werewolves to vampire bats lurk, good luck! try your best to survive…
welcome to kinktober
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MURDEROUS MASQUERADE !
— demon toji x reader
synopsis : your invited to a halloween party but thing start getting unpleasant when your friends starts disappearing one by one?
kinks: overstim, bondage, semi public sex.
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BLOOD HUNT !
— vampire geto x bounty hunter reader!
synopsis : your hired to get rid of a vampire terrorizing the streets, Geto was cursed many years ago forcing him to become a vampire for eternity..
kinks: mild(blood play), fingering, etc.
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THE NEIGHBORHOOD STRIKER !
— ghostface dabi x neighbor! reader
synopsis: uh oh! your neighbor has been acting weird lately, you suspect him as the masked killer known as ghostface?
kinks: manhandling, pussy eating, fingering, etc, voyerism.
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THE UNINTENTIONAL PACT !
— incubus choso x reader x incubus toji
synopsis: you accidentally summon two incubus now they won’t leave your home you tried everything to get rid of them which they tell you they only can leave if you fuck them?
Kinks : 3 some, manhandling, fingering, etc, pussy spanking.
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@kazushawty @hoshigray @ryukenzz @zarihaaa @vampress7 @omgeto @hqkalon @luvfaries @littlemochabunni @suguruplsr @dprkento @marimogf @dgrymn
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Text
“Oh now it’s ‘more, touya’, ‘please, touya,’” he sneers, nose pressed to your cheek as his warm breath fans over your skin. His fingers dig harder into your face, keeping you turned away and unable to kiss him. It’s humiliating as he pulls more sounds and pleas from you, knowing you want nothing more than to shut yourself up with his mouth.
“What happened to all that fuckin’ venom from a second ago? What happened to ‘I hate you, Touya’?” He snarls, hips slowing as you press your lips onto a thin line, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of hearing you cry out for him again.
His teeth sink into your cheek hard enough that you hiss in pain, fingers gripping his hair to yank his head back, twisting in his grasp to glare at him, both of you panting, teeth bared.
“I do fucking hate you,” you hiss, and his hips snap against you hard in retaliation, his cockhead smashing into that spongey spot inside you. Your eyes roll back as he forces all the air out of your lungs, whatever hateful words you had ready dying on your tongue as your brain goes fuzzy. He’s quick to notice, angling his hips to hone in on that spot, his pace quickening.
“Hate you so fucking much,” you manage to choke out as that coil in your stomach tightens faster and faster, and your cunt tightens around him.
He knows you’re close, and for the third time since he’s shoved you up against the wall, he snatches your orgasm from your grasp, his hips stilling.
A broken sob crawls it’s way from your throat and you squeeze your eyes shut to stop the tears from spilling down your cheeks.
He taps your cheek firmly with one finger to get your attention, your face still firmly in his grasp and you level him with a glare filled with as much hate as you can muster. He’s completely unbothered, but you do notice his blue eyes softening as he leans forward, peppering kisses over your cheeks.
“Oh, sweet girl,” he sighs out, tracing an invisible path along your face with his lips. “I promise I’ll let you cum as soon as you stop lying to me,” he breathes, lips ghosting over yours. His mouth twitches in a grin when you inhale sharply, when you tilt forward a little bit, eyes fluttering shut at his soothing tone.
“Just admit you love me and I’ll make you cum on my cock.”
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heich0e · 10 months
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Touya's not usually one to check his text messages.
Never has been, ever since he got his first cellphone when he was 13. He finds it more of a nuisance than anything, the way people always want to get ahold of him. Always expect a response from him over the most mundane shit. He barely likes talking to anyone as is, let alone during his private time—therefore, as a general rule, he doesn't respond to texts.
Especially not ones that pop up on his phone on a lazy Saturday afternoon with the contact name 'Bird Brain' listed as the sender.
But when these particular message previews appear, rudely interrupting him in the middle of watching a cake decorating video while he lays sprawled across the couch, Touya can't help but click through to the conversation to give them the response that they deserve.
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His response is about as succinct and unamused as he is.
Three telltale dots appear at the bottom of the conversation before Touya can click away, and he finds himself waiting to see what Keigo comes back with—for reasons not even he quite understands.
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Touya pushes himself up off the couch in an instant, stomping into your bedroom.
He finds himself hesitating once he makes it to the doorway, his body having moved relatively of its own accord, realizing only once he's standing at the threshold that he's not even really sure what he's going to say.
You're laying across the bottom of your bed on your tummy with your sock-clad feet lifted in the air behind you. You have one headphone in your ear and your laptop propped in front of you with that stupid romantic drama you like so much playing—the one Touya pretends he hates but always gets a little pouty when you watch an episode without him. You turn when you spot him in your peripheral vision, popping your headphone out of your ear and hitting the spacebar to pause your show.
"I'm almost done," you tell him, glancing back to your screen where the male lead is paused mid-confession—his mouth still open in the middle of his ardent monologue. You peer back at him again over your shoulder with a slightly smug look. "If you hadn't watched ahead without me we could be watching it together, y'know."
"That was an accident," Touya grumbles, sniffing a little indignantly. "It started playin' automatically when I turned the TV on."
"Sure, sure," you chirp, turning back to your laptop. When you realize Touya's still lingering there, you face him again, this time pushing yourself up on your elbow so you can twist around to look at him more fully. Your brow furrows. "What's wrong?"
Touya sucks in a breath of air and holds it in his cheeks, narrowing his eyes slightly.
"Can I see your phone for a sec?" he asks.
The pinch of your brow slackens as one of them lifts in surprise.
"Yeah," you say, though your tone is still a little wary. You nod towards your bedside table at the head of the bed. "It's plugged in."
Touya shuffles towards you, rounding the end of your bed frame and approaching the device in question. He sit down at the edge of the mattress, and it dips under his weight. Beside him, you shuffle a bit closer to him as you resume watching your show, one of your feet brushing gently against his back as you kick them idly back and forth.
Touya knows your passcode, just like you know his, so it's no effort to unlock the device once he has it in hand. Finding the app in question is another story entirely.
He turns to you.
"Which one of these is Instagram?" he asks, holding the device in front of your face with the home screen open.
You pause your show again.
"This one," you say, pointing to one particular app icon, but your voice is notably perplexed.
Touya's never had any interest in social media. He had a couple of accounts when he was a teenager but hasn't properly logged in for years. As new social networking sites have risen and fallen, he's never bothered to even sign up, seeing no need in signing away his personal data to a platform he'll never use anyway.
Touya taps his thumb against the icon that you pointed out, waiting for the application to launch. His leg jiggles impatiently while he waits for it to load.
Beside him, you don't unpause your show.
When the screen finally loads, Touya is immediately accosted by an unfamiliar interface. There's some photo of a girl he doesn't know taking up most of the screen, and a few bubbles in the upper right hand corner that he can only assume are notifications you haven't checked. Touya may not use social media, but he's not an idiot either, so after clicking around the screen for long enough he finally manages to pull up what he recognizes as your personal profile.
"Touya, what are you doing?" you ask, thoroughly bewildered now, having just watched your boyfriend visit just about every corner of the Instagram app.
He sucks in a sharp breath.
Slowly, he turns to look at you.
"Did you just post this?"
He doesn't really need to ask, considering the baggy t-shirt you're wearing in the photo—his t-shirt, he recognizes immediately—is the same one you currently have on as you lie stretched across your bed. It's all you have on, save for the frilly little socks on your feet and the edge of the panties he can see peeking out where your shirt's hem has ridden up.
The photo blessedly has left those out.
You clear your throat, almost like you're embarrassed, reaching out for your cellphone. "Yeah, a little while ago."
Touya holds the device out of your reach, and a little sound of indignation slips from your lips. He keeps scrolling.
Your profile is full of photos of you that are just as charming as the first one he'd seen. Some are of friends, or food, or places you've visited. Many are even of him, or the two of you together. The collection is like a series of little snapshots into your life—of all the moments you wanted to save or share. But every so often there will be a photo just of you.
You with your lips pursed coyly, or maybe quirked with the ghost of a smile. You wrapped in a skimpy little dress you bought for a special occasion that Touya is all too familiar with. You with your eyes bright, or maybe one where they're heavy lidded in a sultry expression that makes something possessive and primal scrape against Touya's ribs.
His face feels hot when he looks at those ones. Hotter still when he realizes other people have seen them too.
"I think you should delete your account," he says suddenly, turning to face you with a completely serious—and markedly insistent—expression.
"W-what? Touya!" You exclaim plaintively. You push yourself up onto your knees and scrabble for your phone. Touya doesn't fight back to any real degree. He lets you crawl into his lap and wrestle it out of his hands, though the two of you do go tumbling back across the bed in the process. Once you've safely tossed the phone down to the other end of the bed out of his reach, you turn back to him with an irritated pinch to your features.
Touya meets your gaze easily, like a man without guilt.
"What's gotten into you?" you ask him softly, still straddling his lap. Your hands rest over his sternum, fiddling idly with the strings of his hoodie.
Touya sighs, reaching up and tugging you down to his chest before snaking his arms around your waist to keep you pressed against him. You don't try and wiggle out of his grip like he thinks that you might, instead you let him hold you, nuzzling your face into the collar of his sweatshirt.
"You're being weird," you mumble.
"No, weird would be me asking you to throw your phone away and never leave the house again so I'm the only one who gets to look at you," Touya replies, his fingers dipping under the hem of your—his—shirt and creeping up along your spine. "I'm actually being pretty normal, all things considered."
You huff out a little laugh and Touya feels the warmth of it break against the skin of his throat. You lift your face so you can look at him, and Touya admires the view of you from so close up. The curve of your lips, the colour of your eyes, the tip of your nose. He could look at you all day, he realizes then. Every part of you. Every inch and dip and curve that makes you up. He could study them. Map them out with his eyes closed, long committed to memory.
You make him feel kind of insane, sometimes. More insane than usual, anyway. He worries that he likes you too much.
"What are you thinking about?" you ask him quietly.
You.
Touya purses his lips.
It wasn't his intended goal, but he's happy to accept the little kiss you press against them anyway, a laugh slipping out of his mouth and into yours before you pull away. He shuts his eyes, letting his head tip back against the bed again, letting out a long, exhausted breath.
"Wanna help me set up an instagram account?" he finally mutters after a long stretch of silence.
You push yourself up overtop of him, and when he cracks one eye open he finds you looking down at him excitedly.
"Really?" you ask him incredulously, but undeniably pleased by the prospect.
He nods a bit, pulling you back down against his chest. He lets his eyes shut once more.
If deleting your account is out of the question, he might as well have his own so at least he gets to admire it.
You wiggle comfortably in Touya's hold, your TV show long forgotten at the other end of the bed, content to just let your boyfriend trace lazy circles into your thigh as your legs tangle together with his.
Touya's eyes pop open again suddenly, an unpleasant and not-so distant memory rushing back to him.
Your gaze meets his own, a quiet concern swimming behind it.
He takes your face in his hand.
"How do you block someone on Instagram?"
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35c4p15t · 4 months
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Powerless (Yandere!Bully x Reader)
E.g. Katsuki Bakugo, Dabi/Touya Todoroki (BNHA), Gojo Satoru (JJK)
CW: yandere, referenced bullying, verbal abuse, pet names (doll, love, sweetheart), nonconsensual kissing and dry-humping
NSFW- MDNI
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Arrogance first compelled him to approach you, entranced by your demeanor, before immaturity pushed him to insult and assault you, angered by your initial indifference towards him. Interactions thereafter snowballed as his intrigue evolved into infatuation, which soured into possessiveness, until his role in your life was that of an abusive, toxic, unpredictable bully. Despite wishing things were better, he'd play any role if it meant hogging your attention and scaring others away from you.
Cornering you was concerningly easy; even after all he'd put you through, your efforts to avoid him were pitifully easy to overcome. “Miss me, sweetheart?" Panic was written all over your face as you turned to look at him. Jolting away from him, about to run, he catches your arm, securing you next to him. Where you should be. “Where you goin', doll?" Squirming in his grip, you manage to plead, “Away from you. Please, let me go." It hurts, that you're always so desperate to get away from him. “You wound me, love," he smirks, masking his actual feelings, as usual. “I jus' wanna spend some time with my favourite person, don't you?" He tugged you closer to him, pressing his toned chest against your back, wrapping his arms around your front, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder. “I am your favourite person, right, sweetheart?" His breath tickled your ear uncomfortably, causing you to wiggle in his grasp. “Careful, love, you're gonna make me excited." You cease movement immediately, eyes brimming with tears. He notices, sighing in disappointment. “C'mon, doll, lemme take you somewhere nice, yeah?"
Confused, but powerless to resist, he forces you into his car. “P-please, I don't want to go anywhere… with you." He stares at you, overwhelmed: enraged by your disinclination, frustrated at his own distreatment of you, and desperate to keep you with him. Consequently, he shoves you into the back of his car, climbing in after you, closing the door behind him before crawling over you, distressing you as you attempted to shuffle away.
Undeterred, high on adrenaline, and too elated that you were finally beneath him to think clearly, he grabs your face- unintentionally harsh in his haste- and you whimper, immediately flailing under him in distress, becoming more frantic while he lowered his face, his nose brushing against yours as he planted his lips on yours. Frenzied, you started thrashing, prompting him to drop his body, weighing you down, and briefly lift his mouth to murmur in a husky, confident tone, “Don't bother, doll, you can't stop me." “N-no! Please, I'll go wherever you want, b-but, please don't do this!" “Oh, but you've upset me now, love. Make it up to me, yeah? Just relax, sweetheart." Returning to kissing you, smirking when you stopped writhing, instead laying limp, tears flowing down heated cheeks. His free hand snaked down your body, finding and squeezing your ass while he pushed his tongue into your mouth, and his leg forced itself between your thighs to begin grinding against you. Feeling a hardness pressing on your thigh reignited your anxiety, however, struggling under him simply pleased him, groaning hotly into your mouth. Pressing his leg harder against you, the hand holding you face in place dug warningly into your cheeks before sliding down to your chest, groping- selfishly, so hard you flinched in pain- his breathing quickening, almost heavily panting on your face, withdrawing his mouth from yours momentarily to mutter near nonsense, “You're mine, I own you, sweetheart. No-one else loves you, doll, you're nothin' without me."
Despite hearing his words numerous times since he started harassing you, it still stung. Dejected, you turned your head, unable to face your tormentor, now also molester. You felt sick. Swept up in his own pleasure, he dropped his head into the crook of your neck, mouth open, licking, kissing, biting at the sensitive skin there. His hips accelerated, hand roaming your body, grabbing, squeezing, and rubbing as he pleased, until he buried his teeth possessively into your neck, sighing through his teeth, jerking against you a few more times before he stilled, panting in your ear for a moment. Eyes screwed shut- burning from crying- and stomach aching with disgust, you felt more shame, repulsion, and powerless than ever. “Least you're not completely useless, huh, doll?"
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frickingnerd · 20 days
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dabi with a s/o who has a healing quirk
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pairing: touya todoroki / dabi x gn!reader
tags: hurt/comfort, painful quirk / quirk with drawbacks, reader is a league of villains member, protective dabi
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you met dabi when you joined the league of villains
you were responsible for patching up the villains after their assaults against the heroes
at first, dabi didn't think much of you
but the two of you started to chat with each other a little each time you were healing him
he realized that you were too nice to be a villain and yet you had decided to stick with them
you could've joined any hero agency you wanted to with your quirk and yet you had landed here – with the villains!
he was intrigued by you and he couldn't help falling for you
dabi started to ask more questions about you, to learn more about your past, trying to understand you better
and it was during all of that that he discovered something about your quirk. something you had been hiding from him and the league of villains
your quirk had always seemed a bit too perfect in his eyes. you could heal any wound and it would barely even leave a scar
but there had been a drawback to your quirk. one that you had been keeping a secret from everyone
whenever you were healing someone, you could feel their pain
all those times when he came back half dead and let you heal his wounds, you could feel his pain as well…
as soon as he realized it, dabi started to feel horrible about it
he had put you through so much pain, without even realizing it! you were suffering all those months with him…
and you were healing the other members as well!
he couldn't even imagine how painful it must've been to be burdened with everyone's pain each day
now that dabi knew about the drawbacks of your quirk, he tried to avoid letting you use it
and he started to scold anyone who depended on your quirk too much
dabi would much rather prefer to watch his comrades suffer than you…
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agendercrisisx · 1 month
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Dabi who is scared of physical contact, because of everything that has happened with his family. But almost instantly opening up to you. Because behind the cold facade, he is a touch starved, clingy boyfriend.
He takes every opportunity to touch you, just lightly grazing your hand with his own, when you're in meetings. Holding onto your thigh while you're driving. Hugging you from behind, when you cook. Kissing your cheeks and the top of your head, every chance he gets. Loving to cuddle and actually falling asleep in your arms. He has never done that before, no one ever made him feel safe enough.
But his touched starved-ness quickly turned from innocent and nice, to depraved and feral. He smacked your ass every time you bent over, sneaking a hand between your legs, even if you were in the room with others. Fucking you against every available surface, because he can't fucking get enough of you.
You opened pandoras box in him, and it'll never shut again.
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love-fictional-ppl · 29 days
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Dabi who sneaks into your apartment through your fire escape. He knows you don’t like it because it startles you, but he does give a fuck honestly.
Dabi who you force to accept your help, he gets into fight that cause his staples to come undone. He struggles with the ones on his hands the most. You also force him to shower cus he smells bad.
Dabi who takes in stray cats from the streets and brings the back to your apartment. So far, he has managed to get you to keep 3 of them, the rest went to a rescue shelter.
Dabi who actually really loves your Sunday routine of dying each other’s hair. He loves it if you switch up the color. Try convincing him to switch his color.
Dabi who loves doing chaotic shit. He’s down to kidnap people, rob a bank, do drugs. He’s fucking crazy, man.
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