cw: undetailed nsfw, emotional and physical intimacy, ooc, not proofread..
word count: 735
virgin!touya who hesitates before undressing, fingers catching on the hem of his shirt like he might change his mind. his breathing is shallow, uneven, like he’s trying to steady himself but can’t quite get there. he lingers in that space between wanting to be seen and wanting to disappear, and you don’t rush him. when he finally pulls the fabric over his head, his hands tremble, and he turns away almost immediately, like eye contact would be too much. the dim light barely touches his scars, but he feels them anyway, feels every inch of himself under your gaze. even when you reassure him, gentle and patient, he still flinches at first touch, not from you, but from the weight of being known.
virgin!touya who starts slow, careful in a way that almost feels restrained. every movement is deliberate, like he’s thinking too hard about it, like he’s afraid of doing something wrong. his focus isn’t on himself, it’s on you, on making sure you’re okay, that he’s not hurting you, that this is something you actually want. but underneath that is something tighter, something frustrated, not at you, never at you, but at himself, at the quiet belief that he doesn’t deserve any of this.
virgin!touya who keeps close, who presses his forehead into your shoulder instead of looking at you. it’s easier that way, easier to exist in the moment without feeling exposed. still, the closeness gets to him. it settles heavy in his chest, something almost overwhelming. he holds onto you like it’s grounding, like you’re the only thing keeping him here, and there’s a part of him that wants to break under it, even if he doesn’t let himself.
virgin!touya who doesn’t know how to ask for affection, but leans into it the second you offer. when your hand cups his face or slips into his hair, his eyes close like it aches in the best and worst way. like he’s not used to being touched gently, not used to softness that isn’t taken away. he doesn’t reach for it, not yet, but he stays very still, like he’s trying to memorize it.
touya who’s quieter afterward, not distant, just,,, unsure. he curls into you without really thinking about it, face tucked into your neck, body still holding onto tension like it hasn’t realized it’s allowed to rest. you don’t ask anything of him. you just let him be there, let the silence stretch until it softens.
touya who falls asleep like that, still holding onto you, grip just a little too tight. his breathing evens out eventually, but not completely. sometimes he shifts, brow furrowing, like even in sleep his mind won’t fully let go.
touya who moves quietly the next morning, getting dressed with his back to you like he’s bracing himself for something to feel different. like he’s expecting distance, or regret, or something unspoken hanging in the air. but it doesn’t come. you speak to him the same way, ask him if he wants tea like it’s any other day, and that’s what catches him off guard. not a big reaction or anything dramatic, just normal. and somehow, that’s what makes his chest ache.
touya who doesn’t say thank you, not because he isn’t grateful, but because the words feel too big, like if he tries to say them they’ll turn into something else entirely. so instead he lingers. stays a little longer than he needs to. lets his fingers brush yours when you hand him his mug. small things, quiet things.
touya who, despite everything, is gentler than anyone expects. who presses soft kisses into your skin just to ground himself, just to remind himself this is real. who soothes without thinking, hands tracing absent patterns, steady and careful. when the moment feels like too much, he’s the one holding on, even as he feels like he might fall apart.
touya who loves the quiet parts the most. the half-asleep closeness, the warmth of shared space, the way everything feels softer when neither of you are fully awake.
touya who is softer than he lets anyone see. a little whiny and unsteady, but trusting in a way that’s rare for him. he doesn’t force anything. he just stays, learns, and slowly, lets himself believe that maybe this kind of closeness won’t disappear the second he reaches for it.
you're used to the quiet, and he's used to watching you fill it
warnings: none, ooc touya as usual
a/n: collection of my recent touya thoughts... unedited..
touya, who absentmindedly starts touching you at random, his hands clammy and unsure, settling awkwardly around your waist while you brush your teeth, fingers resting over your clothes like he was still trying to figure out if he was allowed to hold you like that.
touya hovers more than he speaks, by the kitchen table, the doorway, the window with the cracked glass where the breeze slips through. you don’t always hear him come in, one second it’s just you and the sound of water boiling, and then his boots are by the door, his coat slung over a chair like he has always lived here.
most nights, you’re curled up on the couch with something half playing in the background when touya drops beside you without a word, arm tossed along the back, not quite touching until his fingers drift, brushing the edge of your sleeve, the curve of your thigh, tracing over your knee like he's grounding himself. it’s not intentional, it’s just what his hands do when he feels he doesn’t have to think.
sometimes when he thinks you’re asleep he reaches out, fingers brushing your ankle like he’s checking you’re still there, like part of him hasn’t fully believed you’d stay. the first time he really stays over, not just until you’ve drifted off or the sun starts to bleed through the curtains, you find him in the hallway, crouched on the floor next to your shared laundry basket, rifling through a pile of clothes he clearly has no intention of folding. he doesn’t notice you looking at first, just holds one of your shirts in his hands, staring at it like it said something back to him.
you don’t question him, just let your hand slide over his arm as you pass. he’s still figuring things out, just like you, and for now, that’s enough.
i engage in dark content occasionally and may post as such
most things i write are pretty short but i'm trying to expand outside of my comfort zone with longer works
i don't frequently proofread or use capitalization within my writing, i'm just doing this for funsies. if that bothers you please do not bother me with it
i may post things relating to self harm or eating disorders in the future, never in a way that could imply glorification or without proper trigger warnings of course but if the thought of interacting with someone who may post self harm or eating disorder related writing makes you uncomfortable or triggered i'd advise you not to engage!
this is a very self ship friendly blog
requests and rules:
requests are always open, yet i usually feel unmotivated and might take a while to get to your request!
im willing to write for most male mha characters, all scenarios and characters i write about are aged up if involving ua students (duh)
willing to write for other fandoms,, just shoot your shot!
not many restrictions on what i'd like not to be requested, just keep it polite refrain from illegal / morally gross or icky kinks / fetishes as well as things involving bodily fluids, i am not your person for that
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PERV SHIGGY FICS I’M ON THE FLOOR BEGGING i just saw ur post asking if you should write abt it and you SHOULD!!!!! 🙏🏻😞
might edit later
warnings: ooc, afab & gn reader, nsfw
tomura has absolutely zero sense of personal space and needs to be within 20 feet of you at all times. he has no shame, constantly touching you—hugging you from behind, hand slipping its way into your underwear, rubbing your clit as he inhales into your neck deeply. he has an almost disturbing obsession with how you smell, jerking off in the shower because he had to use your shampoo after forgetting his or pressing his face into your panties and taking slow, heavy inhales right before eating you out.
he's the kind of guy who sends you pictures and videos right after he finishes, cum dripping from his fingers, smeared into the fabric of the panties he stole from your laundry. theres nothing shy about the clips he sends either, tomura moaning, jerking off with your prettiest underwear wrapped around his dick, completely lost in how much he craves you. i don't think he'd be the type to be overly creepy or disrespect your boundaries because he respects and loves you a ton, but he'd totally still glance down your top or up your skirt and pinch your butt when he thinks no ones looking, unable to resist absolutely ogling at you. occasionally, he would have you sitting you beside him in public, fingers casually rubbing your clit through your panties until you're soaked, getting off on the fact that you have to hold it together while he's the only one who knows what he's doing to you.
Can you add onto crybaby Dabi?? :(( Maybe talk about him being insecure (I love your writing btw)
warnings: gn reader, sfw, crying, reverse comfort
touyas cheeks were puffed out, his fists clenched as he tried to hold back the tears he refused to acknowledge existed. touya stood in front of your bathroom mirror, staring at his reflection, feeling the familiar swell of frustration and insecurity rise in his chest. his scarred, rough skin, his broken body, the atrocities he's committed, it all disgusted him, and the worst part was how much he hated feeling so vulnerable. if his tear ducts weren't burned, he'd probably be bawling by now, but instead, he settled for trembling and sniffling like a child, stumbling over his own feet trying to make it to your shared bedroom. when you came into the room to see what was up with him, he didn't even have the strength to play it off and push you away, he just slumped down against the bed, brows creased, eyelashes and palms wet with his bloody tears as he tried to save himself from the embarrassment of completely breaking down. and of course, you stayed. you always did, sitting beside him quietly, your hands running up and down his back as an attempt to comfort him as his body shook with the effort of holding everything in for so long. he hated how nice you were to him, how much he needed you despite the fear that one day, you'd abandon him.
touya has this habit of sending you videos when he's horny at the worst times. you'll be at work or busy, and suddenly theres a clip of him jerking off in some random bathroom, his breathing heavy but quiet, trying not to be heard.
touya cums embarrassingly fast most of the time, finishing almost as quickly as the video starts. the tiniest thing sets him off, too. you can send him send a voice message—just you talking about your day—and suddenly he's bricked up with his hands down his pants and the camera on his dick. does NOT dirty talk. tried once while he was bottoming out and it was so awkward and you giggled at him. he hasn't tried it since and sticks to to groaning and quiet breathing.
touya is undeniably beautiful, but he hates showing his face in videos. no matter how many times youve reassured him—countless times—that hes not gross. camera stays fixed on his dick with his hip dermals in clear view droolssss
writing smut is so awkward sometimes i physically recoil every time i proofread
touya fumbles awkwardly when trying to comfort you; the soft touches and soothing words others might offer just dont come naturally to him. touya shifted uncomfortably as his fingers twitched on your back, stiff and hesitant, trying to imitate what he thought might calm you down. the silence stretched on as your sniffles turned into sobs filled the space, with touya cursing himself for not being able to find the right words and actions to soothe it.
