I Love A Dabi/Reader Or A Shigaraki/Reader Where Reader Bites Just As Hard As They Do.

man who refuses to put a label on your relationship but who gets insanely turned on when bad weather forces him to spend the night and you end up basically playing house

They Made You Cry (MHA/Fem!Reader)

(Laser: I'm sad today, so I curse you with angst.)

Summary: MHA characters reacting to making their girlfriend cry. (Angst, arguments, and some unhealthy relationship dynamics.)

Characters: Bakugou, Dabi, Aizawa, Shigaraki, Midoriya

MHA-MHA-MHA

Bakugou

Katsuki's heart sinks when he sees the unmistakable wetness that mists over your eyes. What's worse, what really makes him feel like the worst kind of bastard, is the way you shy away from his gaze with a sense of bitter defeat. Like he's getting what he wanted. Like his victory, his intention, was pushing you to tears.

As if he could ever consider this a victory.

"H-Hey..." he reaches out to you, awkward and unsure. He's so bad at dealing with tears, especially yours. It's so much easier to take on whatever piece of shit that's made you cry, but in this case, it's him. He's the piece of shit.

You sniffle, hurriedly brushing past him, equal parts angry and hurt.

"Whatever, Katsuki."

Dabi

The thing about you is that you're so damn unpredictable. Sweet one second, drawing blood the next.

Dabi kind of loves it. It keeps things from becoming boring, getting stale. And you're so hot when your eyes are ablaze with whatever emotion is overcoming you.

Just like right now, in the middle of some pointless, bullshit argument, when something he says makes you snap. You tackle him to the ground, your hands fisting into his jacket as you yell in his face. All he can do is grin up at you dangerously, just as angry, but equally as enticed by just how vibrant you look in this moment.

Then something even sweeter happens.

Big, fat tears begin to drip from your wild eyes, and Dabi sucks in a breath. You sob, frustrated and overwhelmed, and his cold, little heart warms at the sight.

"Oh, pretty girl..."

His arms wrap around you as you cry into his chest, cursing his name all the while. He strokes your hair, twisted affection squirming in his chest like a nest of spiders.

Always so unpredictable and entertaining.

Aizawa

"(Name), I-" Shouta falters, all the anger and frustration from your argument washed away by cold, all-consuming guilt at the sight of the tears slipping down your face.

You hurriedly wipe them away, stepping back, away from him, and the guilt deepens.

He knows you hate crying in front of him, even when it isn't his fault. It makes you feel weak, and he knows you worry he'll think less of you, that he'll find your more emotional way of being "irrational."

You turn, hiding your face as you try to walk away, but he stops you, gently catching you by the arm.

"Wait," he pleads, his voice gentle, "I'm sorry." Because no argument is worth making you cry.

"I don't want you to see me like this," you mutter, your head down. But at least you're not pulling away from him. He takes that as a good sign.

"Don't hide from me," he urges. He takes you by the chin and tilts your head up so he can look at you properly. He brushes your tears away, regretful that they're there in the first place. "Let's talk about this, okay?"

He's always so stubborn, set in his ways. But he'll try to meet you in the middle, to understand your perspective. You're worth it.

Shigaraki

Tomura feels no guilt at the sight of your tears, only vindictive satisfaction. Good. He'd been aiming to hurt you when he said those words to you. He really can't stand the way you make him feel sometimes, so he's happy to return the favor.

"You're seriously crying?" he taunts with a cruel smirk, poking at your cheek with a mocking finger.

You smack his hand away, "fuck you, Tomura, you fucking prick," you hiss, trying not to cry even more in front of him. You turn and storm away from him before things get even worse.

"You're so pathetic!" he calls after you, making sure you can hear him before you slam the door behind you.

He huffs, standing there and scratching at his neck. You're so damn overdramatic, a pain in his ass. You deserve to cry a little for the shit you put him through.

The image of your tear-filled face flashes through his mind. He ignores the way it makes his stomach twist with discomfort.

Midoriya

Izuku feels his own eyes fill with tears, watching you hug yourself and cry in front of him.

"(N-Name)... please don't cry..." he begs, his hands brushing up and own your arms, trying to console you.

"I thought I was never going to see you again," you cry, your words making his heart ache. You scrub a shaking hand over your eyes, "I was so s-scared for you!"

"I'm sorry, (Name)," he pulls you into a hug, his own tears running free. He really scared you this time. It was a close call. "It's okay, I'm okay. I'm here."

He shushes you gently, guilt spreading through his chest at the distress he's caused you. His job is always going to cause you to worry, the only thing he can do is try his best to come home to you at the end of the day.

(Requests)

omg thank you so much TT^TT I really appreciate it!

hi there this is my first ever request and i'm kinda nervous lol

but i was wondering if the nsfw alphabet could be requested? if so could i request it with iida/chubby fem reader? & if not that's totally okay!

or if not maybe a smutty lil drabble where he's completely feral for chubby reader (i know he's very prim & proper, but just something about him going crazy/being a whiny mess for reader's pussy does something for my little goblin brain)

thank you & i hope you have a good day! 🍄

(Laser: omg I'm so honored to be your first request! I decided to do the drabble for now, but I'll definitely do the NSFW alphabet as well one of these days. Though, it's no longer a drabble, I really got into it. Iida really needs more love!

I hope you enjoy!)

Iida/Chubby!Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Dating a high-profile hero like Tenya meant that at least once a month, you were dressing up in something fancy and spending the evening at his side as you attended some important dinner or event involving other important figures in the industry. You didn't mind it, not at all. You were a sociable type, and you also worked with heroes because of your career in the hero support field. Half of the time, these events felt less like business and more like catching up with friends and interesting acquaintances.

Besides, you really liked dressing up. It wasn't often you got to feel glamorous, holed up in your workshop sweating over prototypes and making repairs. Sometimes it was nice to set the work gloves aside, wash off the grease, and get all dolled up.

Tonight was a charity gala hosted by Commission President Takami, and you were at Tenya's side like always. You were particularly happy with tonight's outfit. You bought a new dress that was a deep dark blue, almost black, form fitting, and when you moved, the light would catch on some subtle gold detailing in the fabric. You matched it with some killer heels and jewelry Tenya had gifted you over the years. Your hair and makeup was perfect, and you'd even gotten your nails done (a rare treat because of your work) which you had to stop from admiring every time they caught your eye.

You felt so pretty, and Tenya thought so, too.

You had to arrive separately that evening, Tenya getting held up with an incident that needed his last-minute assistance. When he saw you waiting for him out in front of the venue, he nearly tripped over his own feet. He had that tell-tale blush up his neck and to his ears and you watched his Adam's apple bob as his eyes flitted up and down your figure in your tight dress.

He cleared his throat, tugging at the tie around his neck as he took a moment to compose himself. "(Name)! You look...splendid," he said as he approached you, his eyes full of admiration. It was obvious he was struggling to put all his thoughts into one simple word. You'd clearly wowed him tonight.

You smiled wide, pleased that you’d blown him away. "Thank you! You look good, too," as he came to a stop before you, you could appreciate just how amazing he looked in a suit. It was a sight you would never tire of, how his broad shouldered, muscular body seemed to be made for formal wear. He'd coordinated his suit to match your outfit, and it made you even more excited to be dressed up tonight.

"Thanks, honey," he pressed a kiss to your temple, the contact brief and chaste. He often kept PDA to a minimum, it was just the way he was. You didn't mind, you understood there was a time and place for everything, and he was plenty affectionate in private.

When he pulled back, he took another moment to look at you, and his glasses did little to hide the desire in his red eyes. It made your heart skip a beat. He gave a little sigh, lifting his hand to brush the back of his knuckles along your cheek, "honestly, I don't know how I'm going to be able to focus tonight with you next to me, looking like this," he said quietly, almost as if he were talking to himself.

You felt your face heat up, suddenly bashful at the admission. But before you could reply, Tenya had his hand placed lightly between your shoulder blades and he was guiding you inside.

The rest of the night went as expected. Lots of listening to speeches and mingling, some catching up with the people you knew. All the while, Tenya was his polite, proper self. He kept you close, but his hands never strayed anywhere inappropriate, he lavished you with compliments and fond smiles but nothing too heated.

To anyone else, Tenya might not have seemed very affected, but you knew him, and you knew he was enamored by your appearance tonight.

There was a tension to him in the set of his shoulders, and a restlessness belied by the tapping of his finger against his champagne glass. His eyes lingered on you just a tad too long before he seemed to catch himself and look away. By the end of the night, you could tell he was eager to leave.

You two said your goodbyes and exited the venue, entering an elevator to get back to the ground floor.

As the doors of the elevator closed, leaving the two of you alone for the first time that evening, you felt Tenya's strong arms wrap around you from behind, the hard line of his body pressing against your back. His hands pressed to your stomach, giving a light squeeze.

You blinked, feeling his face press into the top of your head, his shuddering breath soaking into your body, "...Tenya?"

"Sorry, (Name), I'm just..." he took in another deep breath, pulling you even closer to him, his hands kneading your stomach almost absently, "I've been thinking about you all evening. It feels rude, but I'm not sure if I heard a word anyone said. All I could think about was how you look in this dress, all I wanted was to take you back home and do things I shouldn't think about in public."

You could feel a light thrumming from his body, a result of his engine quirk, a sign of his excitement. He grew semi-hard as he spoke, his arousal pressing against your back. His voice had a growing neediness to it, and in response, heat pooled, slow and sweet, between your legs. You licked your lips, resting your hands atop his, your thumbs brushing along his knuckles.

"Let's go home, Tenya," you said, hot desire coating your voice. You tilted your head up, back against his chest, and smiled up at him, "and we'll take care of you."

Getting home was sweet agony. Despite the promise of what awaited him at home, Tenya would not drive above the speed limit, ever the rule-follower. He didn't seem particularly happy about it, either, which made it even funnier to you despite your own impatience.

Eventually, blessedly, you made it home. As soon as you stepped through the front door, Tenya was sweeping you off your feet.

You gasped, your arms going around his strong shoulders as he held you bridal style and all but marched towards the bedroom. It never failed to turn you on, just how easily he could pick you up and carry you around. You were by no means petite, but that didn't pose a problem to Tenya. In fact, he seemed to prefer it in a lot of ways.

He laid you down on your bed, climbing on top of you and kissing you immediately. Neither of you had even had the chance to remove your shoes, that was how impatient he was to taste you. He covered you with his body, slotting himself between your legs. One hand cradled your face, the other wandered your plush curves. As his hips pressed against yours, you could feel his hardening length nudge up against your core.

“I’m sorry, (Name),” he murmured between his insistent kisses. His face was flushed, his glasses askew, “I don’t know what’s come over me.” His hand slid under your dress, caressing and squeezing your soft skin.

You giggled softly, returning his kisses, “you have nothing to apologize for…” He made it seem as though this was unusual for him to get this worked up, but it wasn’t. When he got in a particular mood, Tenya could become quite needy, and you loved him for it. You carefully removed his glasses, twisting and trying to reach the nightstand so you could safely set them aside, but he didn’t want to be apart from you for even a second, catching your wrist and drawing your attention back to him. You released his glasses, letting them get lost somewhere on the bed.

“I need you,” he said, such desperation in his voice, kissing from your lips down to your neck and cleavage, smudging your lipstick all the way. He pushed the hem of your dress, up, up, up, until it bunched beneath your breasts. His hands smoothed over your stomach, one of his favorite features of yours, and his hips rutted against you.

“Mmm…” you squirmed beneath him, your eyes fluttering as his hips pushed against your clit, stimulating you through all the layers of clothing. He was so perfect like this, so hot when he lost his composure. Such a sight was just for you, and you would hoard it greedily.

“Tenya, love, get those clothes off,” you ordered breathlessly, and he was eager to obey, hurriedly ridding himself of his clothing with your help. Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock, hard and weeping pre-cum for you, the way it begged for your attention just like the rest of him. You reached out, wrapping your hand around it, and Tenya whined so sweetly.

You smiled at him, stroking slowly, twisting your wrist just so, and he responded with a throaty groan. His engines revved, and he moved to hover over you, gently guiding you back.

“I need you,” he kept saying, your dress was bunched up even further, exposing your breasts, he palmed at one, “I need inside of you, need to feel you,” he reached down, giving the waist of your panties a questioning, pleading tug, “please, (Name)?”

You nodded, “yes, Tenya, of course, sweetheart,” you lifted your hips slightly and he removed your underwear while you removed your dress, peeling it up over your head without bothering to unzip it.

It felt so good to feel him without any barriers, and he pressed into you. A wet, delicious glide that had you both moaning.

“(Name), (Name)… you feel so good…” Tenya murmured, his face nuzzling into the side of your head. He had a firm grip on your outer thigh, keeping your leg secure over his hip. His other hand braced against the mattress as he began to thrust into you at a hurried pace, pushing sweet sounds out of you as your normally patient lover gave in to his pent up lust.

“Mm, Tenya,” you gasped out, holding onto him, panting into his ear, “yes, love, yes…!” Your body bounced with the rhythm of his thrusts, your head tossed back against the mattress, and you could do little more than let him do what he wanted.

His hands began wandering your body, worshiping your curves with his touch. He babbled nonsense into your skin as he pressed distracted kisses wherever he could reach. Sweat coated his body, and you marveled at each flex of gorgeous muscle beneath his skin.

His thrusts became more insistent, his hold on you tightening, it wasn’t a surprise to you when he came with one final thrust, filling you to the brim. Tenya held you in place, his own body still, as he panted against your sweat-slick shoulder. You panted beneath him, hands restlessly stroking his biceps, your pussy stuffed but still craving release.

With a long, slow breath, he relaxed, the frenetic energy from before finally soothed. He lifted his head, a painfully tender smile on his face as he kissed your cheek, “that was...perfect, honey,” his voice was warm, his hand drifting up and down your side.

“I’m glad, sweetheart,” you said fondly, letting out a soft noise of surprise as he lifted your lower body, arranging you effortlessly into an angle that you knew would have you seeing stars. You could already feel him growing hard again inside of you, his stamina like nothing else.

He looked down at you with a heated grin that made your heart flutter, “now allow me to return the favor.” He leaned down, folding himself over you, “let me take care of you, (Name).”

(Requests)

Ask No Questions (Aizawa/Fem!Reader)

Summary: Despite sleeping with the man a couple of times, there's not a lot you know about your neighbor, Aizawa. Perhaps that's for the best, you've never been a fan of complications. (FWB to Lovers? Aizawa/Reader. Reader is female.)

(Content: Blood and injury, needles, no smut.)

-MHA-MHA-MHA-

It's the middle of the night when you hear a horrendous crash sound from your fire escape, followed by a muffled groan. It's enough of a commotion to draw you from your insomnia-driven TV marathon to go and investigate.

You push the window up, poking your head out into the cool night air. Illuminated by the moonlight is the crumpled, bloodied form of your neighbor and occasional fuck-buddy, Aizawa Shouta, laid out on the landing and breathing harshly.

Well, shit.

You haul yourself out onto the fire escape without grace, your bare feet making contact with the too-cold metal grating. You're not exactly surprised to see Aizawa in this state. You have no idea what he does for work, but you've seen the bruises and scars on his body, how he never seems to be fully healed at any given time. He gets into fights, lots of them, that much is certain. However, this is your first time seeing him faring quite so poorly after coming back from... whatever it is he does when he slinks out of the apartment complex.

"Aizawa," you say, alerting him of your presence in case he didn't notice you come out. From the way he grunts in acknowledgement instead of startling, perhaps he had noticed. You make your way over to his side, crouching down beside him.

He's looking rougher than usual. The blood trickling down the side of his face from somewhere past his hairline is the most eye-catching at the moment, but there's plenty of other cuts and scrapes besides that, and the way he's clutching his bloodied side can't mean anything good. But when his dark eyes meet yours, there's clarity there, you're thankful for that.

"Do you want an ambulance?" you ask him evenly. Maybe you should just call for one, this might be over your head. But you don't know what side of the law he's on.

The question gets him moving, and he pushes himself into a sitting position with great effort. He doesn't look much better now that he's upright.

"I'm fine," he says, not fine. Stubborn, though.

No ambulance, then.

You twist your mouth to side in thought then sigh, pushing yourself up. "Okay, let's get you patched up."

It takes a lot of effort to get him into your apartment through the window. He doesn't protest your offer to help, but you have a feeling it's because he's so focused on muffling his noises of pain. You practically dump him onto your old, shitty couch, not too bothered by the idea of a few more bloodstains on it, and go to fetch your first aid kit.

When you return, Aizawa's managed to maneuver himself onto his back, his strange scarf and a particularly loud pair of yellow goggles set on the floor beside him. You realize, then, that he's wearing some sort of costume. Interesting.

"There a zipper on this thing?" you ask as you kneel beside him, looking over his black jumpsuit. He gestures to a hidden zipper and you're tugging it down, revealing his sculpted torso to you. It'd be a much more appealing sight if not for the nasty gash in his side. It looks like it was made by a knife.

You help him take some painkillers, nothing fancy or very strong, and start on cleaning his wounds, working with a practiced hand. You're mildly aware that Aizawa's watching you as you work, his breathing not as labored as when you first found him.

"You've done this before," it's not a question.

"I have," you confirm, not looking up from what you're doing. If he has any questions, he doesn't ask them, neither do you, and you definitely have questions.

Silence settles over the two of you as you patch him up. You don't think anything's broken, but you're not a doctor. Now that most of the blood has been wiped away, he doesn't look as bad as you'd initially thought, especially the cut on his head. Still, that wound in his side would need stitches.

You have the needle and suture thread in your hand, but you're hesitating. Again, you wonder if a doctor really isn't an option for him.

"You don't have to do this for me," he says quietly, almost gently, probably picking up on your reluctance to continue. He's already trying to sit up, "I can handle the rest myself, you've already done more than enough." Despite his stoic demeanor, the guilt in his expression is easy enough to read.

"I've already done this much," your hand presses to the center of his chest, stopping him from getting up. "I might as well do the rest."

It's clear to you that if you don't help him now, he's not going to go to anyone else. The images of him in his tiny apartment bathroom, an exact copy of your tiny apartment bathroom, trying to stitch himself shut flits through your head and it doesn't sit right with you.

"I'll be quick," you tell him, finding your resolve.

The minutes pass as you carefully suture his wound, sweat beading on your brow as you work. Every flinch and tensing of his body, every concealed grunt of pain, has your stomach turning slightly. It's been a while since you've had to do this for someone, you never quite got over the queasiness it gives you.

"Okay," you practically gasp, sitting back and setting the needle aside. Your hands are shaking.

Aizawa is looking paler than before, sweat coating his body, his breathing rapid. "...thanks," the words are sincere through his labored breathing. He looks exhausted and you don't blame him.

You shrug, awkward in the face of his gratitude, staring down at your bloody hands, the stains on your pajamas. You lick your lips, "...have I just involved myself in something illegal?" you have to ask. Providing aid to vigilantes or villains, even unintentionally, was a decent invitation for the law to step in and fuck you. If you have trouble coming your way, you want to be prepared.

He raises an eyebrow, "no," he tells you, giving a tired shake of his head, "you're fine... I'm a hero."

Your eyes drift from his dirtied costume to the goggles and strange scarf, "huh." It hadn't been your first guess, but it makes sense.

There's an awkward silence, "are you a paramedic?" he asks, and you can't help but snort. "Or a nurse?"

"Nothing like that," as if anyone would let you handle a job of any importance.

His eyes narrow, like you're a particularly interesting little puzzle. "You sure handled all this pretty well. You seemed to have experience."

"Yeah," you confirm, but you don't elaborate. You turn your face away from his curiosity, gathering up all your supplies. "You can crash here tonight if you want. You should probably see a real doctor soon."

You can feel his eyes on you as you stand, but you don't look at him. There's a pause where you think he might protest staying and try something stupid like attempting to get up and walk to his own apartment or some other macho nonsense, but in the end he just lets out an exhausted sigh. "Okay..."

By the time you've washed his blood off of you and changed your clothes, he's out like a light.

(Requests)

Spin The Bottle (MHA/Reader)

Summary: MHA characters during a game of spin the bottle when the bottle lands on you. (Part 1?)

Characters: Midoriya, Todoroki, Kirishima, and Uraraka

MHA-MHA-MHA

Midoriya

The poor boy is a mess. He was already feeling pretty nervous about playing this game and kissing someone in front of others, but then it landed on you! You're the one person he wanted to kiss the most and that just makes it all even more nervewracking.

You don't want to say it out loud when you approach him, but with his green hair...and how red his face is...he really does look a lot like a tomato right now.

He kisses you with his eyes squeezed shut and his lips puckered comically like a fish. Your lips are on his for a single, blessed moment and then they're gone way too soon. Still, he's pretty sure he's ascended to heaven.

Todoroki

You can't tell what he's thinking when the two of you walk up to each other in the middle of the circle of your squealing classmates and friends, whether he's nervous or excited. He's wearing his usual Neutral Roki expression.

After you stare at each other and nothing happens, you decide to make the first move, closing your eyes and leaning in. He meets you halfway.

You think it's going to be a quick, chaste kiss for the sake of the game, but suddenly, Todoroki's hands are holding your face and he's deepening the kiss way beyond what you were expecting from him. Your friends are screaming, your belly is flipping, and heat flares up over your face as if you're the one with the fire quirk.

He releases you and you can only stare up at him in a bewildered daze. "Sorry," he says, looking unruffled as usual, but there's a tinge of satisfaction in those mismatched eyes.

Kirishima

He bounds up to you with all his boyish charm, looking a little nervous, but still excited and friendly. You smile back at him, his energy infectious, and you meet his lips in a soft, sweet kiss.

His lips linger against yours and you melt against each other as the kiss grows deeper. Your hand cups his cheek and his head tilts to the side just so, his lips parting in a sigh and-

"Ouch!"

You pull back at the small sting and a drop of blood drips down from your lip. One of his sharp teeth had nicked you.

He looks at you, guilt stricken, "oh no! I'm so sorry, (Name)!"

You laugh it off, accidents happen after all, and you spend the rest of the night assuring him that you're really okay. The poor guy.

Uraraka

She approaches you bashfully, a pretty blush blooming across her already rosy cheeks. You smile at her and kiss her softly, your eyes closing as she relaxes into the kiss.

She's so distracted by kissing you that she forgets herself, her hands cupping your face in an attempt to bring you in closer. You gasp as your feet leave the floor and suddenly, you're floating towards the ceiling, your gravity negated.

She gasps, "sorry!" her hands go to her cheeks as her blush deepens, now in embarrassment. This, of course, leads her to start floating as well, and you can't help but burst into a fit of giggles, which she quickly joins.

(Requests)

Jealousy, Jealousy (MHA/Fem!Reader)

Summary: Where you're not jealous. Definitely not. (MHA characters reacting to their girlfriend getting jealous. Part 1?)

Characters: Dabi, Aizawa

Content: Jealousy. Violence and Unhinged!Reader in the Dabi one.

MHA-MHA-MHA

Dabi

You stalked out of the bar, leaving behind the chaos you just caused.

Cold rage coursed through your veins, your pulse pounding in your throat. You could still see that woman's hands all over Dabi, hear the sweet words she was whispering in his ear. That stupid look on her face, the confidence she had that she would be able to take what was yours.

She's lucky all you gave her was a few broken bones.

A hand caught your wrist and you reacted quickly, spinning around drawing on your quirk, ready to strike.

"Take it easy, Angel," Dabi's grinning face, full of twisted amusement, both calmed and paradoxically infuriated you. "It's just me."

You scoffed, the sound a cobra's hiss, and let up on your quirk. You straightened up and pulled away from his grasp in favor of crossing your arms. You'd left him behind when you stormed out, eager to get out before you truly lost control.

He chuckled at your behavior, at the anger still radiating off of you. He was undaunted by it, moving closer, fingers skating along your upper arms. "What was that about, pretty girl? Feeling jealous?"

"I'm not jealous," you spun away from him and began walking again, his skulking footsteps following you. "I just don't tolerate anyone disrespecting me to my face."

"Sure, sure," he obviously didn't buy it.

"Don't piss me off," you snapped, walking faster, "you weren't exactly discouraging the attention, you know."

"And miss out on the show?" you were spun around to face him again and he pushed you up against a wall. His eyes pierced you, his voice a pleasant purr, "not a chance."

You tried to hold onto your anger, but a new kind of heat burned through you at the look on his face, the feeling of his hand running up your side. He nuzzled into your neck, his tongue dragging along your skin and making you shiver.

"Do you know how fucking sexy you looked? Raging like that, all over little old me," he grabbed a handful of your hair, tilting your head back so he could gain better access to your neck. "Vicious girl..."

Your eyelids fluttered and you gripped his shoulders tight as he began to bite and suck at your neck. Possessive lust hazed over your mind and you pulled him closer.

Dabi was yours, and you'd tear apart anyone who dared to try and take him from you.

Aizawa

It was stupid.

You were a grown woman, well beyond the age of petty bouts of jealousy-

And yet.

Sometimes, seeing Shouta's friends, like Miss Joke and Midnight, playfully flirt with him in the way that they did...

It got to you.

And you hated it. Because you knew they were just joking, knew they had no interest in Shouta. And Shouta never entertained their jokes at all, shooting them down in that stern way of his. You had nothing to worry about.

But sometimes, you could still feel the heat rise up under your collar, the tension in your jaw, the urge to tell them to knock it off sitting ready on your tongue. But you didn't. You didn't want to be that girl. You didn't want to make a big deal out of an obvious joke, be the girlfriend that was so insecure she had to bare her teeth at every woman that came near her man.

So you said nothing. But that didn't mean Shouta didn't notice something was bothering you. He knew you so well.

MHA-MHA-MHA

"What's the matter?"

You blinked, glancing over at Shouta as his voice brought you out of your thoughts. The two of you had just left after getting dinner with some of your UA colleagues and were walking home. At some point, after a few rounds of drinks, Midnight had turned her suggestive persona in Shouta's direction. You'd also had a drink or two at this point and couldn't help but leave the table, using the excuse of needing the restroom to step away and cool off for a while. The attempt to calm down didn't work, and you'd remained quiet and closed off for the rest of the evening.

"Nothing," you weren't very convincing, you knew, but you still tried. "Nothing's the matter."

"Hm," he hummed thoughtfully, not saying anything for a few minutes as you continued on your walk. But that didn't mean he was dropping the subject, "you've been quiet since Kayama started in on her antics."

Your mouth twisted into a soft grimace when he hit the nail on the head, "...she was just joking," you said, something you reassured yourself of many a time.

"She was," he agreed quietly, "but it still bothered you."

It wasn't a chastisement, merely an observation, but you still felt embarrassed. You didn't look at him, a horrid blush burning on your face as your silence answered for you.

His hand closed around yours, the familiar warmth a comforting balm to your nerves. "I'll tell her to stop. Joke, too." He really it all figured out, didn't he?

"No," you disagreed, and damn it, why was your throat tight? Why did your eyes burn? "I'm being- I'm just being childish."

"You're not being childish," slowly, Shouta stopped walking, pulling you to a stop as well. He used a gentle hand to guide you into looking up at him, and all you saw was his calm patience that you adored so much. "It's making you uncomfortable, so it's worth addressing."

His thumb brushed over your cheek, the tenderness of the action, of his words, coaxed a few tears out of you. You sniffled, nodding quietly. You still felt so embarrassed, but a part of you felt so relieved to finally have it out in the open, and to have Shouta take it seriously.

He brought you into a hug, and you pressed your face into his chest, the press of his hand resting on the back of your head grounding you.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

"Don't be," he said reassuringly.

(Requests)

I love a good Friends With Benefits scenario where the guy is all aloof like, "I hope you don't plan on getting attached" and then he's the one that ends up fully, irrevocably, pathetically in love.

Hello! I saw your requests were open and figured why not propose an idea for a little drabble :D

Imagine Dabi as the Phantom of the Opera and Reader as Christine. I feel like the role just suits him since it's a little on the Yandere side without being crazy and the mask works for covering his dead skin. HES ALSO JUST BEAUTIFUL!

Thank you!

(Laser: Okay, this was a fun one. I watched the 1925 movie for research and Lon Chaney's Phantom was kind of fitting for Dabi? He had kind of a mean edge to him that I thought worked well. Thank you for the request! I think it might be a little OOC but I hope it's alright ^u^)

Pairing: Dabi/fem!Reader, Slight Hawks/fem!Reader (I cast him as Raoul lmao)

Content: Yandere, kidnapping, murder, rough handling. Reader is delicate and timid.

MHA-MHA-MHA

There were whispers of a phantom haunting the Musutafu Opera House, only seen out of the corner of one's eye, wreathed in flames so hot they burned blue. He terrorized the management, making demands that, should they not be met, would lead him to enact his fiery curse. His threats were not to be taken lightly. He had already killed some of the stagehands, leaving behind nothing but scorch marks and ash on the floor where a man once stood. It was because of this that the mysterious specter had earned another moniker: Dabi.

Amid this tumultuous time at the opera house, your star was rising. You had gone from a nobody to the understudy of the Prima Donna in record time, and it was all thanks to the guidance of the Angel of Music. Only ever appearing to you as a voice, the Angel had helped you hone your abilities in singing, all he asked for in return was your devotion and one day, he said, he would appear to you and demand your love. It filled you with a sense of trepidation, and yet, as you continued to rise in fame and prominence, you felt that you should be grateful, shouldn't you?

But you were conflicted. As much as you were indebted to the Angel of Music, you had someone else in your heart: your childhood sweetheart, Keigo, reunited again after all these years. You didn't know how you were meant to devote yourself wholly to your master while you still carried Keigo in your heart.

But before you knew it, the day your master came for your love was upon you. It was time to prove your devotion to him.

MHA-MHA-MHA

Chaos at the Opera House.

The management had defied the Phantom's demands and were paying the price.

In the middle of a performance of Faust, blue flames erupted above the audience, weakening the supports of the building's grand chandelier and sending it crashing down onto the spectators. Screams and shouts rang out as cast and audience member alike rushed to evacuate or help those crushed beneath the large, fallen structure.

You fled back into your dressing room to escape the panic, your heart racing at what you just witnessed. You braced yourself against your door, catching your breath. That's when the voice of the Angel called out to you.

"(Name), it's time..." his voice echoed the room, a rough, striking rasp.

"Master?" you gasped out, looking out into the empty room.

"Yes, your master has come for you," there was an eagerness, an urgency to his voice. "Just like I promised."

Suddenly, the large wall mirror opposite to you gave a mighty creak, and you watched in stunned silence as it shifted and slowly gave way to a dimly lit hidden passage.

"Walk through the mirror and join me," his voice sounded from somewhere within the passage, sounding clearer than ever now that you weren't separated by the wall.

You took a couple of tentative steps forward, part of your mind warning you that something was wrong, to not follow this voice. But loyalty and, admittedly, curiosity drew you forward, first tentatively and then more confidently. The door to your dressing room burst open, making you stumble your way into the passage in surprise. You turned around, hearing Keigo call out your name only for the passage to close once more, sealing you away.

Shakily, you looked around you. You were on a dimly lit staircase made of old stone. Dust and cobwebs surrounded you, immediately clinging to your dress and hair. Peering down the dark steps ahead of you, you felt dread curl in your stomach.

"Finally."

A hand grasped your shoulder from behind and you cried out in fright, spinning around and losing your footing. You nearly fell down the stairs if not for the arm going around your waist and the hand wrapping around your wrist. You were pulled forward, flush against a too-warm body and you looked up into the masked face of the man before you.

The white mask covered his face completely and the rest of his body was draped in black. The only visible part of him was his eyes that were such a vibrant turquoise that you swore they glowed in the low lighting. You were stiff with shock, unable to move by the intimidating figure this stranger cut.

"Don't be scared," he pulled you even closer, his masked face drawing nearer. His eyes were bright as they greedily drank you in. "It's me, your master, your Angel of Music."

Your eyes widened as you recognized the deep rasp of his voice. "It is you..." the angel that had been guiding you, mentoring you, helping you cultivate your talents was the person in front of you.

You didn't know how to feel.

This is not what you expected when the angel had first spoken to you, for him to turn out to be this dark figure in a mask. Your head was spinning, your nerves ramped up from the chaos of the theater and now this strange meeting. You were caught off guard when his grip on your wrist tightened and he was suddenly ushering you down the stairs, practically dragging you along in his hurry.

So much was happening so fast as he took you deep beneath the Musutafu Opera House, into the old catacombs that the building had been built over. Before you knew it, he'd turned more corners than you could keep track of, and you realized then that you were truly at his mercy. Should you venture out on your own, you would be hopelessly lost.

He took you through a heavy door, into a private chamber of sorts. The door closed with a deafening thud, the sound of him turning a key in the lock feeling dreadfully ominous.

You turned to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. You were alone with him now, in an unfamiliar place. You felt vulnerable. Afraid.

He turned away from the door, looking down at you in all his imposing glory. He stalked closer to you, and you couldn’t help but back up. He paused, chuckling, it was a dark sound that filled the space.

“I’m not going to hurt you, you know,” he said, and he grabbed your wrist again, yanking you closer to him. He peered down into your eyes, his presence so overwhelming, “now that I’ve brought you home, I plan on treating you right.”

Home. You glanced around, taking in how… lived-in the space was, decorated with various rugs and mismatched furniture. It was a home, his home.

“I...I can’t stay here,” you found your voice, though it was small. “Please take me back.”

“No?” his voice had a hard edge to it. He brought his other hand up to grip your face, “it’s what you promised me, isn’t it? All that work I put into making you a star, making sure those bastards at the Opera put you on the stage like you deserve, and you’re gonna back out on your end of the deal?”

He sounded angry, his eyes wide behind his mask, almost deranged.

You pushed his hand away from your face, shaking your head, “stop it- you’re scaring me…” Your benevolent Angel of Music was nowhere to be seen. In its place stood a devil.

“Maybe you should be scared,” he said and you gasped as you found yourself pushed against a wall of cold, unforgiving stone, his hands gripping your shoulders. “Maybe it’ll help you understand. You’re mine, you were mine from the moment I laid eyes on you. I made you, (Name), and now I’ve brought you home.”

“No!” you brought your hands up to push him away, one of your hands knocking against his mask. He stepped back as the mask fell, falling to the ground with a clatter.

You gasped.

The man’s face was covered in heavy burn scars, dying skin literally being held together by staples. He brought his hand to his now bare face, slowly turning his eyes back to you. He smirked, a cold laugh leaving his mouth.

“Terrible, isn’t it?” he asked, eyes flashing dangerously, “well, don’t be shy, take a nice long look, (Name)!”

He grabbed you by the back of your neck, bringing you face to face with him as he grinned cruelly down at you. He seemed to take pleasure in your fear. You struggled, your legs weak from fright at the sudden rough handling and he let you fall to the ground in a shaking heap.

He took some steps back and suddenly, he was on fire, blue flames rising from his hands. The clothing of his upper body burned away, revealing even more scarred, stapled skin.

“You’re the Phantom…” you realized as you looked up at him from the ground, the blue flames unmistakable. “You’re Dabi…!”

He grinned, crouching down in front of you, “that’s right. I’m the monster that’s been terrorizing the Opera House,” he tilted his head, his turquoise eyes cold as ice, “but before I was a monster, I was a man named Touya. It was the world up there that made me like this! Society and that stupid old man!”

You trembled as he ranted, unable to face the revelation that the Phantom and your angel were one and the same. You felt faint, dizzy as your world flipped upside down. You were unable to resist as he took your face in his hands, his touch almost gentle.

“But I’m ready now,” he said, bringing himself closer to you. “To take what I deserve, and burn down anything that stands in my way.”

You lost consciousness as his lips pressed to yours.

(Requests)

Poly DabiHawks/Reader where Dabi and Reader are villains and dating each other and they're steadily corrupting Hawks as they draw him into their relationship. Hawks is strangely innocent in a lot of ways after being raised to be a perfect dog hero for the Commission, and he's so eager to please.

Dabi doesn't trust Hawks at all but Reader's a little less cautious and is very much the driving force in the formation of this throuple.

if you would be so kind as to reblog this if you feel insecure about your writing skills.