dabislittlemouse

[dabislittlemouse]

i’m on a trip rn and was reading this masterpiece sitting on the grass under the Eiffel tower 🤌🏻 smiling and squirming in front of everyone cause i could NOT hold myself back omfg?? YOU OUTDID YOURSELF WITH THIS ONE HELLO

Its so fucked up and wrong, but I love every.single.bit of this- the way he’s so possessive, so manipulative, eager to corrupt, this shit got me on my damn KNEES 🙏🏻😩

— Corrupt Me Softly

She smiled too easily. That’s the first thing he noticed about her.

In a city choked with smoke and rot, she was all softness and light. The kind of girl who bent to help a bleeding stranger. Who picked flowers from the cracks in the pavement. Who still clapped when pro heroes gave speeches and said things like “We’ll protect you.”

It was fucking laughable. Pathetic. He hated girls like that. He wanted girls like that. No, he wanted her.

Dabi first saw her during a league attack gone wrong. Her arms were wrapped around a sobbing child, blood on her hands, eyes wide and too brave. She looked up and saw him through the fire. His face was half hidden by staples and shadow, but he saw her clearly. That beautiful soft face, the big eyes. And what she didn’t do. What she should’ve done. She didn’t scream or beg. She watched him with unblinking eyes… and that was it.

He should’ve turned her into kindling. Should’ve reduced her to bones and ash, like the rest of the meatbags in the way. But something about her made him pause for a second. And in that second, the idea planted itself like a spark on dry wood.

What would someone like her sound like when she cried for him?

She didn’t even know his name, not really. She had heard rumors about the league of villains and its members. But he was like whispers in the smoke.

And he followed her every day. Sat on rooftops with a cigarette between his teeth, watching her go about her sunshine life. She wore skirts that floated when she walked. Took care of stray cats. Gave money to buskers. Laughed with her friends like she hadn’t seen a man burn alive last week.

He started slow. A scorched bouquet outside her door. A voice in the dark. A heat on the back of her neck when she walked alone. She left her curtains open like an invitation, like she wanted to be seen.

And Dabi? He watched her sleep. Watched her press her knees together in bed like she was pretending not to be needy. She was aching for something she didn’t understand yet and it made him smile, because he’d be the only one able to give it to her.

Then the man at her work smiled too long. Chatted her up with clear intentions. She was too naive to notice, but Dabi saw everything, and he acted.

Two days later, he was found in an alley, tongue cooked black, hands melted down to the knuckles. No suspects. No witnesses. Just a message burned into the bricks.

‘Don’t touch what’s mine.’

She knew. She knew he was watching her, and she didn’t tell the heroes. That’s when he knew she’d break.

When he finally showed himself again, it was in the alley behind her apartment. Her hands trembled, But she didn’t run.

“What do you want from me?” she whispered.

He stepped close. Breath hot against her ear. His fingers slid over her jaw like he was touching glass. “Everything.”

And he took everything piece by piece. First, her time. Then, her truth. He made her lie to her friends. Made her second-guess the people she trusted. Made her sneak out just to hear his voice. She started trembling not from fear, but from want. From the sick little thrill of hearing her name curl off his tongue like a threat.

When she told him she still believed in heroes, he laughed. “Then why do you moan like a sinner when I touch you?”

One day, she came to her childhood home to black smoke in the distance. Gone—burned to the ground. Every memory, every piece of who she used to be, gone. Gone. Gone. Gone.

He found her on her knees in the rain, sobbing. And all he did was kneel behind her and stroke her hair like a lover. “They never gave a fuck about you. They loved your brother more. They always did. Now they can’t hurt you anymore.”

She screamed at him. Fought him. Hit him until her knuckles split. And he let her, because pain is still attention and rage is still connection.

Beneath it all, her heart was cracking like glass under pressure. “You’re sick,” she spat.

“No, baby,” he purred, cupping her face, his thumb brushing the tear on her cheek. “I’m in love.”

She had a plan. A secret exit stashed under the floorboards—money, a burner phone, a recording of what Dabi had done. Names. Dates. Faces.

He had changed her. He had Warped her. He had twisted everything she believed in. But maybe… maybe she still had time to undo it.

She told herself she wasn’t running from him, just running back to the truth. Back to the heroes she once adored. To justice and to the light that used to warm her, before cold flames surrounded her like a shield. No, not a shield, but a cage.

One last chance to escape the monster who lived in her shadow.

She got as far as one street away from the agency. Her hands trembled as she looked up at the building. Its sleek glass windows reflecting hope, safety, salvation.

Her eyes burned with tears. She stepped forward, and a hand closed over her wrist. Hot. Unmistakable. Dabi.

“You really thought I wouldn’t find out?” he murmured behind her, low and calm, the way it always was right before he snapped. “After everything I gave you, everything I burned for you… you really thought you could crawl back to them?”

She gasped, tried to yank her arm free, but he was already dragging her backwards into the alley. Into the dark, and out of sight.

Her body betrayed her, like whenever he touched her. When she smelled that unmistakable scent of smoke and musk. She shivered at his touch, weak with adrenaline and full of twisted memories.

“No—let me go, Dabi—” she whimpered weakly.

“No,” he growled, shoving her against the damp brick wall, pressing his body to hers. “You don’t get to fucking leave.”

Despite the beautiful sunny day, the alley was tight and cold. A siren wailed in the distance. She still could see the hero agency’s sign, beyond the edge of the wall. So close. Even a single scream could save her, but the fear of what would happen to Dabi overpowered the need to step back into the light.

So she let him held her there, trapped in the shadows, his hands sliding under her shirt like he owned her.

“You thought you were a civilian again?” he sneered. “That you could go back to your little sunshine life and wash the filth off? You’re not one of them anymore. You’re mine.”

She whimpered, struggling, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I just wanted to feel normal again.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, his voice turned dangerously soft. “You were normal. I made you better. I made you real. I made you mine. And now you’re gonna show me you remember that.”

She froze as he dropped to his knees in the filth of the alleyway, yanked her panties down beneath her skirt, and pushed her thighs apart. “Dabi, no—please, someone might see—”

“Then maybe they’ll learn who you belong to.”

He licked a slow stripe up her inner thigh, fingers bruising her hips as he buried his face into her soaked cunt. There wasn’t anything gentle about the way he ate her. Every lick, every suck was punishment. Her back arched against the brick. Her mouth fell open in a silent cry. It was sick and twisted how she wept for him.

“That’s it,” he rasped against her pussy, pulling away just enough to look up at her. “Say you missed me. Say you missed my mouth, my cock, my hands around your throat. Say you don’t want them. You want me.”

She shook her head, choking on a sob, “I—I wanted out—”

“Liar. You wanted to be caught. You wanted me to remind you how fucking good it feels to be ruined.”

He stood and opened the zipper of his pants, enough to free his partly burned cock out. Angry, hot and leaking for her. He gripped her thigh with one hand and hooked it around his waist. The other holds his cock tightly, smacking it against her swollen clit until she was sobbing. Then he thrusted into her in one brutal push. She cried out, eyes wide, walls clenching around him with betrayal and sick, molten need.

“You hear that?” he growled, rolling his hips in slow, devastating rhythm. “That wet little pussy knows where she belongs. Not in some glass tower full of hypocrites. Not at the feet of heroes. Here. In the dark. Taking me like a fucking whore.”

He kissed her like he was starving. Fucked her like he was punishing her for the thought of leaving. Slow and mean, hands holding her open, body caging her in, fucking her against the bricks like she was nothing but his plaything.

“Tell me,” he hissed against her ear, “do the heroes make you cum like I do? Do they choke you while you beg for more? Do they own your fucking soul like I do?”

She sobbed and wailed and squeezed her eyes shut. Pleasure and shame blurted the edges of her mind. “Please,” she whimpered.

He pulled out almost entirely, then slammed back in with a growl. “Say. It. Say you’re mine. Say you never fucking left.”

And with her face soaked, her thighs shaking, her pussy gripping him like she never wanted to let go—she cracked. She cracked and broke completely. “I’m yours. I never left. I can’t—I can’t live without you—”

He groaned deeply and looked up to the sky, like he was thanking every fucked up god that she’d be finally his. His hips started to stutter as he ground deep inside her and spilled her womb full of him. He held her there for a long moment, still buried inside her. His grip bruised her skin, two hearts pounding like war drums and finding the same rhythm.

Then he kissed her temple so sweetly it made her cry again. “That’s my girl. You’ll never leave again. Not unless you want the world to burn for it.”

for @dabislittlemouse, because corruption never felt so good

[dabislittlemouse]

God he would be the best dad ever i just know it 😭 imagine him feeling so proud the moment his kid manages to inherit his quirk :( feeling a bit emotional as well seeing how his kid is so happy to have daddy’s quirk :(

things I dream about

@springismss & @dabislittlemouse imagine… ☹️

[dabislittlemouse]

AAAHHHDHDBF THIS WAS SO DAMN HOT GODDDDDDDD AS ALWAYS !!!

my needy ass is here again im sorry because your writing has me in a chokehold and the way you portray dabi is just UGGHHH has me salivating each time I read your content 🙏🏻😩

especially the jealous!dabi content 👀 i just love me a possessive man omgomg-

I had a situation at work where this dude who works at the IT department had been hitting on me for a while, (and of course i was clueless) until he decided to ask me out n stuff, all while insisting for me to accept it even when i refused. Not a very pleasant experience cause ugh … men 🤢 but likeeee… I couldn’t stop thinking of Dabi’s reaction to this situation~ casually telling him what happened and him going batshit crazy, or maybe he has an unusual calm which gives you the chills because you have no idea what he will do next? But you can see it in his eyes, the burning inferno of jealousy~

ALSO TAKE YOUR TIME W THIS ONE, no rush at all, remember to take breaks, rest and hydrate yourself 🩵 mwah

ᱬ⛧ only you ~ dabi

pairing: dabi x girlfriend! reader

content: 18+ mdni. work place toxicity (persistent coworker), marking, p in v, slight fingering, implied cum pluging, implied multiple rounds, implied multiple positions, reader is called doll/princess/sweatheart/good girl/baby/cock sleeve/slut (not in a derogatory way), general NSFW content

word count: 2.5k

links: request masterlist | bnha/mha masterlist | masterlist | jealousy, jealousy (dabi's version)

a/n: second post in one day, back with another request. this is kind of linked to the dabi version of jealousy, jealousy (which is linked above). i hope you enjoy this b, my love! as always likes, comments and re-blogs are deeply appreciated!

Drumming your fingers on your desk, you rested your chin in your free hand and sighed. Yet again, your work profile wouldn't accept your password despite typing it in correctly. You'd even taken your time, pressing each key and waiting a few seconds to make sure it was typed in correctly.

'The referenced account is currently locked out and may not be logged on to'.

"You've got to be kidding me". Rubbing your temple, you reached for the phone on your desk and pressed one of the buttons near the display. After a few moments, the number dialled and a voice rang out, making you smile slightly. "Hello there, my most favourite girl in the world! What can I do for you?".

"Ryōsuke, I might have locked myself out of my computer. Could you give me a hand?". The line was silent for a moment, causing your eyes to glance at the phone screen, seeing the number still being called. "How have you managed that, angel?".

Raising your brow, you took a moment to catch up with what he said, the sound of his voice bringing you back to reality. "Sweetheart, are you still there?". Blinking for a moment, you swallowed thickly. "Huh, yeah, I'm still here. I may or may not have entered my password incorrectly".

A small chuckle on the other end of the phone sounded. "I'll be right there".

The clacking of your keyboard sounded as you stared at the screen, the jumble of numbers and letters of the code made your head hurt. "And there we go, you just need to enter your new password, okay, darling".

You noticed the pet name again. Chalking it up to him being friendly, you hummed out and tapped your fingers on the keyboard, inputting your new password, completely unaware of the eyes watching what you entered.

That's how it all started to snowball. The constant problems you had that only Ryōsuke could solve. The IT problems that you seemed to have, no one else did.

Then came the pet names. Names that you brushed off as being friendly. The compliments soon followed. How your outfit looked good on you, how your makeup suited your features, how the one particular shade of lipstick seemed to make your lips look even fuller, how the way you wore your hair a certain way really complemented your beautiful face.

Everything seemed innocent enough until one day, you found yourself in a situation that you didn't feel all too comfortable with.

Groaning out, you stretched in your chair, sighing at the popping you felt. It was nearly finishing time, and you were thankful the day had flown over. "Ahhh, there's my girl! I've got something to ask you".

Glancing over your shoulder, you saw Ryōsuke standing at your cubicle. "Oh, Ryōsuke, what can I do for you?". Turning in your chair, you faced him and tilted your head, waiting for his question. "I was wondering if you'd like to go out on a date after work tomorrow? Have something to eat and drink, get to know each other a little better?".

The words caused your throat to dry, a lump forming as you felt your stomach drop. "Oh erm... Thank you, but I'd like to just keep this a workplace friendship if that's okay".

Keeping your gaze fixed on him, you saw his brows furrow, features scrunching up as he walked forward, stopping in front of you. Leaning over, he placed his fingers under your chin and tilted your head, his eyes scanning over your features. "Oh, come on, beautiful. I'm sure I could persuade your pretty face to come with me".

The heat in your face increased as you tried to move your head, tried your best to get away from his touch with little success. "Ryō, I....".

"Oh, come on, beautiful, I'll make it worth your while". Pushing your chair back, you took in a breath, hands shaking slightly. "Let me think about it and I'll let you know after work".

While not the answer he wanted, Ryōsuke accepted it and stood, walking away from you, leaving you alone with your racing heart and erratic thoughts. Not before looking over his shoulder and smirking.

Rushing to turn off your computer, you grabbed everything you needed and rushed out of the office. All you wanted to do was get home, get back to the safety of the four walls. Most of all, get back to him, the only person who you'd ever give everything of yourself.

Slamming the door shut, you leaned against it and sighed out, throwing everything to one side as you finally broke. Hand clasped over your mouth, you stifled your sobs, not wanting to alert the other person to your current emotional state.

Only it was too late. The sound of heavy boots thudding caused you to look up, tears slipping down your cheeks as you felt a wave of relief wash over you. "Who the fuck made you cry doll?".

Rushing forward, you gripped ahead of his top, burying your face in his chest as you sobbed out. "Touya, he's gotten worse". At those words, the raven-haired male wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. "Tell me all about it, baby".

Tilting your head, you looked up at him, eyes slightly puffy as you told him what Ryōsuke had said. How he wouldn't take no for an answer, and how he expects you to give him the one he wants tomorrow.

Closing your eyes, you calmed yourself for a moment. Opening them once more, you cast your gaze up, fully expecting Dabi to be wearing that face he does when he wants to get revenge on someone.

Except he wasn't. He looked as calm and nonchalant as ever. And that unnerved you.

The next day came quicker than you wanted it to. The nauseous feeling spreading throughout you. You spent your entire shift purposely avoiding Ryōsuke.

Once it came time for you to finish, you quickly logged out and rushed out, pressing your back against the wall as you sighed out in relief. You'd gone the entire day without seeing him, and you were finally home free.

Or so you thought.

"Ahhh, there you are, my darling!". The sound of the voice made you stiffen up. Your throat drying up, and your palms beginning to feel clammy. Glancing to your side, you saw him. The way he walked towards you made you turn, quickly walking away as fast as you could.

Turning a corner, you thought you were home free until a hand grabbed your arm and pulled you back. Gasping, you stumbled slightly, hand grazing the wall as you tried to steady yourself. "Where do you think you're going? You owe me a date, don't forget, darling".

Tugging your arm, you tried to pull yourself free, the grip tightening more as you struggled. "Ryōsuke, please, I just want to go home". Moving closer to you, he smirked, eyes darkening. "How sweet. You're going on that date with me. Willing or not, the choice is yours".

Opening your mouth to retort, you took in a breath only to hear words being shouted from behind you. "Let her go or my face is the last thing you'll ever see".

Glancing over your shoulder, your eyes softened as you saw Dabi walking towards you. Hands stuffed in his pockets but ready to strike if he needed to. "Get lost, patchwork, this has nothing to do with you".

The heavy footsteps stopped beside you as you shivered. "Don't make me repeat myself. Let her go or I'll be the last person you ever see". Ryōsuke snorted, grip tightening as he pulled you to him. "Don't think I will. She's coming with me".

Feeling a hand grip yours, you looked to your side to see Dabi holding your hand. With a grin, he moved quickly, too quick for you to register.

The pressure on your arm disappeared as a grunt was heard. Looking at the ground, you saw Ryōsuke lying on his back, a bewildered look on his face. It took you a moment to catch up before you felt fingers under your chin, turning your gaze. Looking up, you saw those turquoise eyes you fell in love with staring back at you.

A small smile tugged at your lips as you wrapped your arms around him, face burying in his chest once more. "I'll give you one more chance. Either you leave my girlfriend alone and never bother her again or...".

You felt yourself being moved, back pressing against Dabi as your head was moved to the side. Hot breath fanned the sensitive skin of your neck. Biting your lip, you let your eyes flutter shut as he began placing kisses on your neck. Gentle at first, getting rougher with each passing kiss.

The pressure you felt on your skin shortly after made you suck in a breath, biting back a moan as you pushed yourself into Dabi. Your body relaxed as you gripped onto his arm that was wrapped around you.

With a small pop, you felt the pressure on your neck leave. A dull throbbing left in its place. Eyes burning into your soul as they stared at the mark they left. The same eyes turned their attention back to Ryōsuke. "...I'll make sure my face will be the last thing you see for all eternity".

Before he had a chance to respond, to say what he wanted to, you felt your body being turned and lifted up, thrown over a shoulder as you yelped. Reaching down, you gripped onto his jacket as you tried to get your bearings.

You didn't know how long he'd been walking until you felt yourself being dropped to your feet, and the blood rushing back down your body made you feel woozy. "Fuck sake Touya, you can't just do that".

Placing a hand on the wall behind you, you felt yourself being caged in. Eyes glancing around to see where you were. Rolling your eyes, you huffed. "Of all places, an alley. Really?".

"What can I say, doll, think I need to show you who you belong to". Before you had a chance to retort, you felt your skirt being hiked up, the thin material of your underwear being pulled to one side. "Don't you dare".

You knew it was foolish, Dabi did what he wanted when he wanted. The smirk on his face said it all as you felt him sink two fingers knuckle deep into your cunt without any prior warning. The stretch you felt made you gasp out, biting your lip to hold back the moan wanting to sound out.

"I think it's about time I remind you that this pretty little pussy of yours is mine, and mine only".

Whining out at the loss of his fingers, you gripped hold of his jacket just in time to feel your body being hoisted up, legs spread open as your underwear was ripped. Dripping cunt on display for your boyfriend to see. "Such a needy little slut, already dripping wet for me".

"Fuck, Touya, I need you". Closing your eyes, you arched your back, trying to push yourself down. "All in good time, doll, but remember what I told you to call me when I'm in this mood?".

Chewing your lip, you slipped your hand behind his head, fingers threading into his hair as you pulled his face closer to yours. "Need you to fuck me Dabi, stuff me full and show everyone who I belong to".

Pressing a rough kiss to your lips, Dabi gripped your hips and brought you down onto his cock. The mushroom head splitting your cunt open as he buried himself to the hilt, a moan of pleasure mixing in with the kiss you shared.

Pulling back, a thin trail of saliva connecting your lips together, he took a moment to look over your flushed face. "If it gets too much, remember to tell me, okay, princess".

Nodding your head, you smiled softly, free hand gripping his shoulder as he began pistoning his cock into you. Skin slapping against skin, lips clashing in desperation as he fucked your cunt.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him closer to you, a soft moan passing your lips as he slipped deeper inside. "Fuck, Dabi, feel so good...". Of course, he knew it did; he could tell by the way your walls were clenching around him, trying to milk him of everything.

"I know it does doll, fuck, your pretty little pussy is mine and mine alone...". His thrusts slowed down, dragging his cock out of you slowly before thrusting it back in hard, chucking at the way your back ached as you moaned out. "...Now, let me fill that pussy of yours. Need to have you dripping all of me while we walk home".

Pulling out again, he dropped your legs to the floor as you moved your arms from him, fingers untangling from his hair. Turning you around, he manoeuvred your body before sinking you down once more on his cock, hands keeping your arms pinned behind your back as he quickly thrusted into you.

Mushroom head of his cock repeatedly slamming against that spongy spot inside.

With a desperate cry of his name, you felt your walls clamp around him, as you reached your euphoria. Jaw going slack as you stiffened. "That's my good girl, milking my cock beautifully".

That was enough for him to give in, to paint your insides white as he slammed his hips into you. Cock twitching as he shot ropes of his cum deep inside. Savouring the way your pussy kept him there, keeping his seed inside you.

Letting your arms go, Dabi pulled you against him, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. "Well done, doll, but we're just getting started". Running a hand down your back, he smirked at the way you shivered.

"When we get back home, I'll fuck that cunt of yours as many times as I need to. As many times as it takes for you to remember who you belong to...".

Pulling your head slightly, he looked over your flushed face, making sure to etch the image into his memory. "...As many times as I need until youre stuffed so full of my cum, you'll be dripping me for days. I'll mark you so everyone knows who you belong to".

The very thought made your pusys twitch, much to the delight of the male still buried inside you.

And by the time you got home, you found yourself face down against the mattress, fingers gripping the sheets as your knuckles turned white. Tears lined your eyes as your jaw stayed slack.

Whines and moans of desperation and need leaving your throat. Eyes rolling back at the feeling of Dabi's cock stretching your cunt open more. Marks littering your skin and your body trembled, crying out his name for anyone to hear.

"That's it doll, take my cock like the good little cock sleeve you are. I'm going to fuck this pussy of yours all night".

© springismss 2025 - don’t repost, copy, translate, steal or modify.

[dabislittlemouse]

☆ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. it's time to spread positivity!!!! ☆☆☆☆☆☆ !!!! <33

ILY

[dabislittlemouse]

unchained | dark romance w. dabi

chapter 5

wc: 2.8k

cw: captivity/abduction, psychological distress, power imbalance, sensory discomfort, dubious morality, graphic violence, feels like a shitty action film but bare with me this is the climax

ೀfrom bee: i apologize for the late chapter post, as i said in an earlier post i was suuuuper busy this past weekend with my family! also this one is a bit shorter too, but worry not the next one is looking to be a long one 🙂‍↕️ enjoy this chpater as there is a huge turn of events :] support on ao3!

You don’t know how long you lay there after he leaves.

The mattress too warm now, but you can’t bring yourself to get up. You keep your hand close to where his pinky brushed yours—almost like proof that it happened at all. But every time your fingers twitch, you remind yourself:

It doesn’t mean anything.It can’t.

But even now, the memory thrums under your skin like a second pulse.

He sat on the floor. He stayed. He watched the door like he was guarding something. Guarding you.And that terrifies you more than Mr. Compress’s words or Toga’s taunting ever did.

-

He watches the feed longer than he should, eye growing dry.

The chair groans beneath him as he leans back, elbows on his knees, cigarette burning down between two fingers he barely feels anymore. The smoke’s gone cold, but he hasn’t noticed.

Your body is still in the same spot that he left you in, a blank expression doesn’t leave your face. Not asleep. He can tell. Your shoulder shifts too often, breath a little too shallow.

Tense. Waiting.

He hates how easy it is to read you now.

He should stop watching.

But after Compress’s visit, after Toga’s smile, after Twice’s not-so-innocent comments—he knows better.

They’re circling.

You aren’t leverage anymore. You’re bait. And worse—you’ve started to become something else entirely.

He exhales slow and hard, rubbing the heel of his palm against his temple. He should’ve burned this problem out the second it started feeling like one.

And now, every time he tries to pull back, the thought creeps in—if I leave them alone, they’ll pick them apart.

And for reasons he still won’t say out loud, that’s not something he’s willing to let happen.

His burner phone buzzes once. A message from Spinner.

Boss says op moved up. Relocation within 48 hours. Get ready.

Dabi’s mouth goes dry.

Shit.

He crushes the cigarette into the tray and stands too fast. The chair tips, but he catches it, knuckles white against the metal. His heartbeat’s louder than it should be.

You’re not safe here anymore. But moving you? Things are going to get very complicated, very quickly. Because if you leave this room—you’re in their hands. Then is when you might just break.

-

You hear it again—boots outside your door. Not the hesitant shuffle of Twice, not Toga’s playful grace. This is heavier. Controlled.

You sit up fast.

When the handle turns, you brace—but it’s Dabi.

And this time, he looks . . . frayed.

Hair mussed. Eyes bloodshot, shirt more disheveled. Breath a little too sharp when he exhales.

Your heart kicks. “What is it?”

He steps inside, shuts the door, turns the lock with a soft click. That’s new.

He doesn’t speak right away. Just paces once—twice—before leaning back against the far wall, arms folded.

“They’re moving us soon,” he says. Flat. No ceremony.

Your throat tightens. “What does that mean?”

“It means this—” he gestures to the room, to the space between you—“doesn’t last.”

You swallow hard. “And me?”

His gaze flickers. That’s the part he won’t say.

You rise slowly, “Tell me.” 

For a second, the mask slips—just enough.

“You don’t want me to,” he says softly.

But you do.

Because if this is the end of whatever strange, fragile thing has been building between you, you need to understand it before it’s ripped away.

“I need to know,” you whisper.

Dabi’s fists tighten. “They’ll move you with the rest. Somewhere less controlled.”

“Less controlled,” you echo. “Meaning worse.”

He doesn’t deny it.

You take a shaky breath. “And you?”

His jaw works. “I’ll go where they tell me.”

“And if they tell you to let them—” You can’t finish it.

And the ice in his voice is gone.

“I won’t.”

Two words. Simple. Soft.

But it’s the first promise he’s made since this started.

And it terrifies you more than the silence ever did.

The words I won’t still hang in the air between you. A promise. A weight. You aren’t sure which.

Dabi hasn’t moved from the wall. You haven’t dared sit down. The room feels too fragile for that now—as if shifting your position will tip the whole balance off its edge.

But then—sharp. Fast. Three quick knocks on the door.

Dabi tenses instantly. Gone is the tired slump. His head snaps up, jaw set, eyes colder than you’ve seen them in days.

“Stay there,” he mutters.

He unlocks the door fast, opens it just wide enough for a lean, tense figure to wedge in—Spinner. His hoodie’s half-unzipped, blades strapped to his back. Breath short.

He looks at Dabi, then—narrowly—at you.

“You need to move,” Spinner says, voice low but urgent. “Now.”

“What the fuck happened?” Dabi asks flatly.

“Patrols. Intel’s bad. Heroes know we’re in the sector already. Shigaraki’s giving the order—burn everything. No traces. Compress and Toga are already pulling records. If you’ve got anything here, clean it.”

Dabi’s jaw tightens. His glance flickers toward you. You feel it.

Spinner notices.

He lowers his voice even more. “You want them alive? You move fast. You want them dead—stay here.”

Dabi exhales through his nose. A dangerous sound. “I told you—”

“This isn’t about what you told me,” Spinner cuts in. “This is about what happens when they bust through that door tomorrow.”

You see the shift in Dabi then—sharp, immediate calculation behind his eyes. Not panic. Strategy. Because he knows Spinner isn’t bluffing.

“We’re burning everything,” Spinner says. “Every piece of it.”

He’s already turning away. “You’ve got maybe an hour. Less if we’re unlucky.”

And then—gone. 

-

You’re on your feet before Dabi can stop you.

“What does that mean?” you ask, heart pounding. “What’s left to burn?”

He runs a hand through his hair—frustrated, fast.

“Everything,” he mutters. “Camera feeds. Personal items. Anything that says you existed here.”

He’s already moving—crossing to a metal box in the corner. Wires. Drives. You didn’t even know it was there.

“I—” You hesitate. “And me?”

He looks at you then, expression bare.

“You,” he says roughly, “are the one thing I can’t burn.”

The words hit you harder than you expect.

Before you can respond, Dabi’s already moving—sharp, quick, all lazy disinterest gone. He crosses to the panel in the wall, fingers flying over old wires and switches. You see a small drive, half-burned already, pulled free and tossed onto the floor.

“What can I do?” you ask, breath catching.

He pauses just long enough to meet your eyes. For a second, something flickers there—fear, maybe. For you, not for him.

“Grab the book. Really anything you’ve touched more than once.” He’s already dismantling the feed system, yanking cords free. “And move fast.”

Your fingers shake as you scoop up the battered copy of Monte Cristo, the thin towel. It feels absurd—like none of it matters. But you do it anyway. You can feel the clock ticking under your skin.

He hauls the mattress off the floor and throws it against the wall with one brutal shove.

“Clothes,” he says, voice tighter now. “The ones you came in with. Where are they?”

“They… they took them,” you manage. “First day.”

He curses under his breath.

When you glance back at him, you see his hands are trembling now—not with fear, but with fury.

“They’ll use anything,” he mutters. “Scent. DNA. Threads. Fucking anything.”

You freeze. The words land sharp.

“Dabi…” Your voice is thin. “What happens if they find me?”

His hands still over the wires. He looks at you then—really looks. And for the first time since you’ve met him, you see it fully—he doesn’t have a plan for this. Not anymore.

“Then I failed,” he says softly.

And it shatters something in your chest.

Because it’s not bravado. It’s not cold. It’s not calculated.

It’s raw.

You cross the room before you think better of it. Hands still full, towel half-dragging, you stop just short of him.

“You haven’t failed yet,” you whisper.

His breath catches. You see it. You hear it.

Slowly—slowly—his hand lifts. Hesitates. Then curls gently around your wrist, grounding himself for half a heartbeat.

“You should hate me,” he murmurs.

“I did.” You swallow hard. “I’m not sure I can anymore.”

The words hang there—fragile and burning.

Then he lets go, eyes snapping sharp again.

“We’re out of time.” His voice is hoarse. “When I tell you to run—you run.”

You nod once, fiercely.

“Stay close to me. Don’t trust anyone else. Not even for a second.”

“Not even Spinner?”

His mouth twists. “Especially not Spinner.”

Then—without another word—he shoves the last of the feed into a bag, shoulders it roughly, grabs your arm—not too tight, but firm.

“Ready?” he asks.

“No,” you breathe. “But let’s go.”

And as the door cracks open—heat rising, alarms echoing faintly down the halls—you step out beside him.

For the first time, not as a prisoner.

As someone he’s chosen to protect.

The second Dabi pulls the door open, heat and noise slam into you like a fist.

Somewhere down the hall, something explodes—an ugly BOOM that shakes the floor beneath your feet. The light overhead flickers madly, throwing the hallway into sharp stutters of dark and sickly white.

“Keep the fuck up,” Dabi snarls. His grip tightens on your wrist—not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you: this is life or death now.

You run.

Boots hammer concrete. Sirens wail faintly in the distance—someone’s triggered the emergency failsafes. The stink of smoke is thick in the air, acid and bitter.

You barely round the first corner before Twice barrels past with a half-filled sack of drives and scraps. His mask is half-off, face twisted in a grimace. He skids to a stop when he sees you.

“Shit—Dabi! They’re in Sector Three already—heroes or cops, who knows. We got maybe five minutes—”

His eyes flick to you. He hesitates.

“You sure about this?” Twice asks.

Dabi’s voice is pure ice. “Move.”

Twice swallows, then bolts past without another word.

Dabi hauls you forward again. Your lungs are already burning. You try to keep pace, heart racing so loud you can barely hear.

The first body appears at the next intersection.

League grunt. You recognize the blue-and-white armband of one of Shigaraki’s lower men—slumped against the wall, throat torn open, blood pooling slick beneath him.

You freeze.

Dabi doesn’t.

“Eyes forward,” he says harshly. “You stop, we die.”

You force yourself to move. The image burns behind your eyes.

Another blast shakes the ground ahead. You round a sharp corner—and there’s Toga, covered in blood, knife dripping.

She grins wide when she sees you.

“You’re running?” she sing-songs, voice wild with the rush of violence. “That’s not very nice—”

Dabi steps between you in a blink, hand flaring hot with blue fire.

“Touch them,” he growls, “and you die next.”

Toga tilts her head, playful. But you see it—the calculation behind her eyes. He means it.

She pouts. “Spoilsport.”

Another boom behind her. Shigaraki’s voice—sharp and distorted—barks orders down the hall. Toga twirls her knife once, then skips off with a giggle, leaving a fresh smear of blood in her wake.

Dabi yanks you forward harder now. His hand burns hot where it grips your arm, heat seeping through your skin like a brand.

“She won’t play nice again,” he mutters. “Next time, you run first.”

The corridors twist tighter now—narrower, darker. You can hear more footsteps ahead. More screams.

At the last junction before the east exit, you almost collide with Mr. Compress.

He’s holding a small black orb, fingers twitching like he’s debating what to compress and what to destroy.

He raises an eyebrow when he sees Dabi dragging you behind him.

“So it’s true,” Compress says calmly. “You’re picking your favorite.”

Dabi flares his hand in warning, blue flame licking the edges of his fingers. “You want to test me?”

Compress chuckles. “Not tonight.”

He steps aside—but his eyes linger on you, sharp and knowing.

“You’ll have to burn more than wires to cover this,” he says, voice low.

Then he’s gone.

Dabi snarls under his breath, pulls you faster now. You stumble, legs burning.

I can’t keep up, you think wildly. I can’t—

But then the cold hits.

Steel door. Partial breach. The outer hallway, near the abandoned loading docks.

Dabi slams a palm to the panel, overrides it with a crack of sparks. The door lurches open just enough for him to wedge through, dragging you behind him.

Cold night air hits your face like a slap. Sharp. Icy. Clean.

You don’t get time to breathe.

“Move!” Dabi barks.

You run. Down cracked asphalt, weaving between rusted crates and old loading frames. Lights sweep the far end—someone’s got drones in the sky.

“Keep your head down!” he snarls, forcing you into a crouch behind a rusted trailer.

Bullets snap through the air overhead—sharp, metallic zings that make your ears ring.

Someone’s shooting now. Maybe heroes. Maybe feds. You can’t tell anymore.

“Where—” you gasp. “Where do we go?”

Dabi’s breathing hard, but his voice is steady. Deadly. “Away from this shithole.”

Another boom. The warehouse behind you belches smoke and flame—orange now, mixing with the stars. You hear metal tearing. Screams.

Dabi yanks a second burner phone from his coat and dials fast.

“Get the fucking car,” he snarls into it. “Now. East lot. No backup.”

He crushes the phone in his fist after the call, blue flame eating the plastic to nothing.

Then his hands are on you again—not rough. Urgent.

“You stay with me,” he says, low and fierce. His face is closer than it’s ever been—eyes wild, breath hot. “No matter what you hear. No matter what you see. You do not let go.”

You nod, gasping. “I—I won’t.”

“Swear it.”

“I swear.”

And then—he pulls you up, arm tight around your waist, heat radiating through your clothes.

Together, you sprint for the far lot as the League tears itself apart behind you.

The lot is a graveyard.

Half the old transport trucks are rusted skeletons, wheels eaten through, axles split wide open. The chain-link fence beyond them sags inward, broken in three places.

And in the far corner, a blacked-out SUV idles—silent. No headlights.

Dabi drags you toward it in a low crouch, hand searing hot on your side now, steadying you when your legs nearly buckle.

“Almost there,” he mutters, voice rough.

Your lungs burn. The world spins at the edges of your vision. But you don’t let go.

You can’t.

Two figures step out from the car as you near. One is Spinner again—hood up, blades glinting under one arm. The other is a masked driver you don’t recognize.

“Dabi, hurry the fuck up!” Spinner hisses. “East sector’s already breached—”

A new round of gunfire cuts him off. Sparks erupt along the asphalt as bullets rake the lot behind you.

Dabi doesn’t flinch. He spins, throws up one hand, and a column of blue flame erupts between you and the shooter—searing hot, so bright it blinds you for half a second.

“GO!” he roars.

Spinner throws the rear door open.

Dabi shoves you in first, hard enough that you tumble across the seat. Before you can right yourself, he’s in behind you, slamming the door shut with a crunch of metal.

“Drive,” he growls.

The SUV peels out fast—tires screeching as it fishtails through the crumbling fence and onto the frost-slick road beyond.

You’re shaking now—body overloaded, heart hammering against your ribs so hard it aches.

You barely register that Dabi is still pressed tight beside you, arm braced against the door, body heat still rolling off him like a second furnace.

It’s not until you glance sideways that you realize:

His hand is still wrapped around yours. Tight. White-knuckled.

Like he forgot to let go.

The car takes another sharp turn. You gasp, body thrown against him—but this time, he pulls you closer, arm sliding fully around your shoulders. No words. No explanation.

Just there. Here.

You close your eyes for half a beat. Not because you trust him—trust is long gone. But because your body can’t take any more.

His breath is ragged in your ear when he finally speaks.

“We’re not safe yet,” he says, voice low. “They’ll hunt us.” Unsure if he means the heroes or what’s left of the League. It’s likely both.

You force your eyes open, force the words out.

“Then where do we go?”

His jaw tightens.

“Somewhere they won’t look first.”

He leans his head back against the seat with a rough exhale.

And for the first time since this started—since the warehouse, since the leash around your throat loosened—Dabi sounds genuinely tired.

Not angry. Not bored. Not volatile.

Just tired.

And beneath the exhaustion, you hear it:

He has no plan for this.Not anymore. Not since you stopped being a hostage and started becoming something else.

You squeeze his hand once—just a flicker of pressure.

For a heartbeat, he squeezes back.

And as the SUV vanishes into the dark, leaving the ruin in its wake—neither of you looks back.

reblogs + comments are very much appreciated !

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[dabislittlemouse]

breaking news: woman is insane about that fictional character, even more so than yesterday

[dabislittlemouse]

♡ Dabi with a corruption kink ♡

x reader drabble. 273 words. smut. teasing. fingering. f!reader. and ofc, as the title says, (subtle) corruption kink.

"One of these days, you're not gonna want to go back to them, you know," Dabi murmured against the shell of your ear. His fingers busied themselves rubbing your clit through the wet lace of your panties, the texture sending your mind into a lust-fueled haze. "How 'bout it, princess? Gonna stay with me? Not go back to those stupid fuckin' heroes in the morning, like usual?"

When you opened your mouth to respond, it's like he could somehow sense that you were going to argue, and he wasn't having any of it. 

Dabi moved your panties to the side and slipped a finger inside of you, then another, and began massaging your clit with his thumb. And you could hear his smirk when he spoke again. "So sorry baby, what were you about to say...? You were about to say that you'll stay here with me, weren't you, pretty girl? Stay here, with me, forever... keeping my bed and my cock warm...."

"Dabi," you managed to choke out, nails digging into his forearm as he began to kiss down your neck. "You know I – fuck – I have to go back." 

"No, you don't. You just want to – for reasons I'll never understand," he grumbled, then nipped at your neck. He sat up then, pulling his fingers away then removing your panties. 

You didn't just hear the smirk now. You could see it, as he sat back on his heels, still between your legs, and began peeling off his tank top.

"Don't worry, my sweet girl," Dabi cooed, sneering the word 'sweet' like it was a word most vile. "I'll change your mind."

mdni banner from @cafekitsune

[dabislittlemouse]

I can’t believe i got to read this masterpiece for FREE 😭 THIS WAS SO HEART WRENCHING

Imagine you’re a Tourist, ducking into an old temple to get out from a sudden rainstorm, and coming face to face with the temple’s guardian fox spirit, Dabi. You’re supposed to leave an offering when you enter a temple yannow, and if you have nothing to give, perhaps you could offer your body~

a/n I’m a bit scared uploading this, because it turned out differently than expected, but it’s another one of my favorites so I hope you like it too

ღ dabi x you —when the fox calls

The storm hit without warning. One minute she was admiring the mossy stillness of a winding mountain path and the next, a low growl of thunder rolled over the hills like a warning. Rain followed fast. Thick, cold drops slapping her skin, soaking through her jacket in seconds. Her map was useless now, her phone already dead from too many photo stops and not enough signal. She was alone, lost in a forest somewhere outside Kyoto, and the path had long since turned to slippery mud.

Then she saw it—half-hidden by vines and trees—a small gate, half-open, with a weathered sign: Kitsune-no-Miya. Shrine of the Fox.

The stone steps beyond were cracked and crooked, climbing into shadow. She should’ve turned back. Every guidebook said to avoid unfamiliar shrines. Especially ones so old they didn’t even show up on Google Maps. But the sky cracked again, thunder rumbling like a beast’s growl, and she didn’t hesitate. She ran through the torii gate, up the steps, her soaked shoes slapping against the stone.

The shrine was ancient. No bright vermilion paint, no souvenir stands or donation boxes. Just silence and the scent of wet earth. The main temple building stood crookedly behind a courtyard of moss and broken lanterns. And in the middle of the open space, weathered by time and rain, was a fox statue.

It was beautiful. The fox sat upright on its haunches, mouth slightly open, ears alert. Its eyes were made of polished obsidian that seemed to shimmer despite the darkness. Its tail curled behind it with elegance and a thick white stone collar rested around its throat.

She didn’t realize she was staring until the rain slowed. The storm was still rumbling, but above the shrine, a strange hush had fallen. As if the world had gone still. She stepped closer to the statue. “Hi,” she whispered, unsure why she was speaking at all. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. I just… I needed somewhere to wait out the storm.”

The shrine didn’t answer. Of course it didn’t. She exhaled shakily. Her hands were trembling from cold. Her hair clung to her cheeks. She looked around, wondering if she could stay under the roof until the rain passed. She was already planning how to apologize in the guest book, if she found one, when she turned back—the statue was gone.

No, not gone. He was standing there. Not a statue. Not human. The fox god.

He stood where the statue had been, tall and still, silver-white hair spiked in waves around his head. His skin gleamed moon-pale in the stormlight, smooth and untouched. His dark kimono fluttered around his legs, though no wind blew. His eyes were turquoise. Not just colored, lit. Like candle flames caught in the ocean. Ancient. Sharp. Watching her.

Her breath caught while he didn’t speak or move at all. Yet she somehow understood, that she had come to his shrine, uninvited, unprepared. And worse, with no offering to give.

Her stomach twisted. This wasn’t a tourist stop. This wasn’t a safe little photo op for her feed. This was his domain and she had entered with empty hands and muddy shoes.

“I…” she started shakily. “I didn’t mean to—please, I didn’t know this shrine was still…”

Still what? Still sacred? Still watched?

He silently stepped closer. “You speak as though that matters,” he said, his voice a soft purr. It sent chills through her. “Ignorance doesn’t free you from the debt you now owe.”

She swallowed. Her knees wanted to buckle. Her body wanted to run, but something deeper, lower, pulled her still. “I… I don’t have anything.”

No coins. No offerings. No incense. No prayer.

“Nothing?” he asked.

His eyes gleamed as he looked at her. Not just at her, but through her. As if her body, her soul, her want, were all laid bare to him. The weight of his gaze made her skin burn, despite the cold.

She shook her head, lips trembling. “Nothing.”

He stopped inches from her, close enough that she could feel the strange warmth coming off him. A fire or smoke beyond reach. His head tilted curiously, yet amused. “Then, what will you give me?”

Lightning flashed. The air between them cracked.

She should have said sorry again. She should have begged for forgiveness. She should have dropped to her knees and prayed. Instead, her lips parted. She looked up at him with wet lashes, her heart pounding. “…Me.”

The fox god smiled hungrily.

For a moment the storm held its breath. The rain stopped. The wind vanished. The sky above the shrine shimmered with a strange glow. Not daylight, not moonlight, but something caught between.

And Touya, the fox god, watched her. “You,” he murmured, as if tasting the word. “A mortal with no name, no coin, no gift… offering herself.”

His voice wrapped around her like silk, like smoke, like fingers she couldn’t see. She tried to take it back, but the words tangled in her throat. He was so close now. His scent—earth and fire and something sweet, like plum wine—made her dizzy.

He leaned in, lips brushing just beside her ear. “Do you know what it means… to offer yourself to a fox?”

She shivered. “N-no,” she admitted.

He chuckled wickedly. “Good.”

He stepped back, and in a blur of pale motion, he circled her, stalking around. Like a flame dancing just out of reach. She turned with him, dizzy from the slow pace, the way his eyes dragged over her skin like claws wrapped in velvet.

“I could keep you here,” he murmured. “Bury your name. Tangle you in silk and illusion until you forget what time is.”

He passed behind her, his fingers—claw-tipped—brushing lightly down her spine. Her breath hitched. “I could make you dream forever. Make you mine in a thousand lives and never give you back.”

She turned. “Would you… hurt me?”

The look he gave her was unreadable. “No,” he said. “But I’ll ruin you.”

Then he stepped closer again, until his chest nearly brushed hers. He tilted her chin up with one finger, his touch strangely warm. “Are you willing?”

Her lips parted, but no sound came. Her whole body was trembling in something raw and ancient and new. She nodded and he smiled again. This time, almost… gentle.

But his next move was not. The temple around them shifted. One blink, and the moss, the rain, the broken stone was gone. They stood inside now. Somewhere deeper, sacred, older than any shrine she’d seen. Tatami mats beneath her feet. Lanterns burning with blue flame. Incense curling in the air like breath.

And in the center a bed. Woven silk sheets in black and white. Cherry blossoms drifting from a tree with no visible trunk. The air smelled of longing, of memory, of things lost and never mourned.

She turned toward him. “What happens now?” she asked.

He smiled, stepping toward her with eyes that glittered like dusk. “Now,” he said, undoing the sash at his waist with one slow, fluid motion, “I show you what it means to belong to a fox.”

Her breath caught in her throat as the silk robes slipping from his shoulders like water. He wasn’t modest. Why would a god be? He was all pale and sharp elegance with long limbs, a torso lean with power, etched with faint ink-like markings that shimmered faintly in the blue firelight. Sacred sigils—marks of power, of something older than language. And those glowing turquoise eyes never left her.

“Take off your clothes,” he said. It didn’t even sounded demanding, more like a truth as natural as asking the moon to rise.

Her hands moved before she could question it. Trembling fingers peeled her out of her wet shirt, out of her soaked jeans, until she stood before him in nothing but breath and bare skin. He moved closer again. His fingers trailed up her arm slowly, but beneath the calm was something coiled. Something dangerous and possessive.

“You don’t understand what you’ve given,” he murmured. “But that’s what makes it beautiful.”

She shivered. “Then… teach me.”

His lips twitched into something between a smirk and a snarl. “I will.”

He pushed her back gently until her knees met the silk-covered bed and she fell into it, sinking into softness that felt unreal. Like the whole room was alive. Touya knelt over her and then he touched her. But gods don’t touch the way mortals do. There was no fumbling. No hesitation. His fingers ghosted down her throat, across her chest, her hips, her thighs. Strokes that felt like fire beneath skin. Each brush of his hand left warmth blooming, deeper than nerves, down to the bone. As if he wasn’t just touching her body, but rewriting it and making it his. He kissed her slow and yet he claimed her. Tongue sliding between her lips with practiced ease, tasting her gasps, drinking every tremble. His hands pinned hers to the sheets and when she arched up for more, he just laughed into her mouth.

“Greedy little thing,” he purred. “I haven’t even begun.”

He slid down her body, sharp teeth grazing her skin, fangs just shy of breaking. He left heat and need in his wake. Danced with her on the edge of what was painful and what was pleasure. But when he finally took and filled her, it was like falling.

Her body opened under him, every inch drawn tight with ecstasy and overwhelming pressure, like she was being filled with something more than just flesh. Like he was sinking into her soul and setting it alight. He moved deep, slow, perfect, dragging out every cry, every gasp. Her hands clawed at his back. Her thighs shook around his hips.

He groaned into her neck, “You feel like devotion.”

That made her realize that he was worshipping her and binding her. Because fox gods do not take what’s offered and let it go. They take and keep. Even as she fell apart beneath him—again, and again, and again—she could feel his energy sinking into her like ink into silk. Something dark. Something permanent. A bond.

“Mine,” he growled as she came undone, body arching beneath his, slick and hot and helpless.

The word echoed in the air like a curse. A vow. A lock clicking shut. Her eyes fluttered open and vision turned hazy, and then she saw them. Not the fox statue. Not a god. But tails—nine of them—white as bone, coiled in the shadows, surrounding the bed like a cage. And Touya’s mouth curled against her throat, his voice a whisper made of smoke and blood. “You’ll never leave this shrine again.”

There was no sun in the temple. No sunrise. No moon. Just a soft, golden twilight that never changed. The same filtered glow through paper screens. The same warm breeze that never moved the trees. The same sound of wind chimes that never quite came from anywhere.

At first she tried to count the days. She used little stones from the garden, stacking them on the windowsill. But one morning—if it was morning—they were gone. And when she asked Touya, he just smiled and said, “What would you need time for?”

The shrine gave her everything. Silks in every color. Sweet rice wine, warm baths, books she didn’t recognize but could somehow read. Her body never aged. She never bled. Her hunger was always sated. Her skin glowed like something newly made.

And Touya was sometimes there. Sometimes gone. When he was near, the temple pulsed with it. The fire in the lanterns burned hotter. The air shimmered. He’d pull her into his lap beneath the blooming tree that never shed a petal and kiss her like she was the last mortal left. His tongue would tease her mouth open while his fingers found her pulse, always murmuring—

“My little offering…”

“You belong to me…”

“You were made for this…”

But then he’d vanish. For hours. Days. Weeks? She never knew. When he was gone, the temple grew quiet, empty. The food still appeared. The fire still burned. But everything felt thinner. Her thoughts wandered more. She’d stare at the walls, wondering what season it was back home. Did her friends think she was dead? Was her family searching for her? Sometimes she’d scream his name just to feel real.

And every time the ache in her chest reached its sharpest point, when her memories of the world before became too loud to silence, Touya returned Always behind her. Always touching before she even heard him.

“Did you miss me, little human?” he would whisper, dragging his fingers up her inner thigh, his other hand at her throat.

Her body would betray her before her mouth could answer. Arching, whimpering, welcoming. That’s how he played her. With kisses between her shoulders and slow thrusts that made her forget what crying felt like. With his tongue in her mouth and her legs hooked over his arms as he drove into her so deep she saw stars that didn’t exist. With his voice right in her ear—

“You don’t miss them. You miss me.”

“There’s no world but mine.”

“This temple is your home and I’m your god.”

And afterward, she’d lie in his arms with her thighs slick and trembling, her eyes dazed. He’d stroke her hair and hum a melody older than language while she forgot what the sky looked like. And if she cried? He’d kiss her tears and say softly, “Mortals always grieve the leash at first.”

It began when she followed a sound. A strange, low laughter echoing down the eastern corridor of the temple, the one Touya always told her not to enter.

She shouldn’t have gone. She knew that. But he was gone again. She hadn’t seen him in… time didn’t work right here. But her heart ached. Her body missed his hands, his mouth, his voice curling around her name like silk.

So she followed the laughter. It led her to a room she’d never seen before, wide and gold, draped in veils and incense smoke. The air smelled like jasmine and foxglove. And sitting on cushions in a ring of shimmering firelight were women. Not quite women. Not mortal. Fox spirits.

All of them otherworldly. Long pale limbs, sharp claws tipped in gold. Eyes like fire opals. Nine tails each, swaying behind them like wind in tall grass. They lounged in silk robes that slipped too easily down their shoulders, whispering and giggling, licking sweet wine from each other’s fingers.

When she entered the room went still. Every head turned and every gaze burned.

“Well, well…” one purred, rising to her feet with a smile full of fangs. “The little pet.”

“She’s real,” another whispered. “I thought he made her up.”

“She’s soft,” a third sneered, crawling closer, nose twitching. “She smells like him.”

The first one circled her. Fingers ghosted across her jaw, her throat. Her tails brushed the girl’s legs, making her shiver. “He gave you his mark, didn’t he?” she said, low and dark. “You let him rut you like a beast and thought it meant love.”

Her voice cracked. “I-I didn’t—”

“Oh, little offering,” the fox cooed, eyes gleaming. “You’re not his only worshipper. We’ve served him for centuries. We bleed for him. Burn for him. We were his favorites until you.”

Another one growled, crawling toward her on all fours. “You think a god like Touya binds himself to one mortal girl? You’re just his newest game.”

“She’s not even a fox,” one spat. “No tails, no magic. Just holes and tears.”

She turned to run—heart pounding, breath ragged—but the doors slammed shut behind her. The foxes moved, sleek and hungry, surrounding her like a slow tide. But then he came. Blue fire exploded in the room, licking up the walls. The fox spirits hissed and scattered, tails snapping in fury.

Touya stood in the doorway. Naked from the waist up. Eyes glowing gold-turquoise, hair wild and lips curled in a snarl. “She’s mine. Touch her again and I’ll rip your souls from your pretty throats.”

The room emptied in an instant, whispers of foxfire and perfume vanishing into smoke.

And she? She collapsed. But before her knees hit the floor Touya caught her. He cradled her like glass, like something sacred. He kissed her temple and carried her back to his bed in silence. But later, when he had her naked and spread beneath him—fucked full of his cock, her fingers tangled in his hair—he whispered the truth—

“They were right.”

Thrust.

“You’re just a mortal.”

Thrust.

“You’ll break long before they do.”

He leaned down and licked the tear that slid down her cheek. “But gods don’t love foxes. We love what we can ruin.” And he fucked her harder, like he wanted to ruin everything.

It started with whispers. Soft like the wind, but too cold. She’d lie in the temple’s endless twilight, waiting for Touya to return and hear the fox spirits behind the walls. Singing. Laughing. Mimicking her voice in mocking tones.

“Touya, please…”

“Touch me, Touya…”

“Do you love me now, Touya?”

She stopped eating. The food tasted like ash. The silks itched her skin. The temple that once felt warm and dreamlike now pulsed with something rotten. The air had teeth.

When Touya appeared, he kissed her with the same hunger, but she didn’t kiss back. He made love to her. She didn’t moan. He whispered all the sweet nothings she used to melt for. She just stared. Eyes wide. Blank. Gone.

“Look at me,” he growled once, gripping her chin as he thrusted hard, frantic and desperate into her. “Tell me you’re mine.”

She blinked. And said nothing. He came inside her, panting, nails leaving crescent moons on her hips. But it didn’t matter. She didn’t cry. She didn’t scream.

She just turned her face away and whispered. “I don’t want to be anything anymore.”

The foxes were however were pleased. They brushed her hair when Touya wasn’t looking. Fed her lies like honey. Told her she was just a vessel and that gods don’t love, they only use.

“She was your favorite,” one hissed into Touya’s ear as he walked past. “And now she’s nothing. You made her this.”

He slaughtered that fox. Burned her to smoke, but the damage was done.

He tried to summon storms. Tried to make the sky real again, to break the temple open and let the world back in. But she didn’t notice. She sat by the pond in a thin white robe, pale legs folded and eyes vacant.

Once he knelt beside her and pressed her hand to his chest. “Do you feel that?” he whispered. “I wasn’t supposed to have a heart. But you… you gave me one.”

She smiled faintly. “I think I left mine somewhere in the forest.”

He kissed her. She didn’t kiss him back. And then he stopped leaving the temple. He stopped touching anyone else.

The other foxes grew bitter, but they didn’t dare go near her anymore. Touya’s fire scorched the stones when they tried. He protected her body like it was sacred, but her mind? It was slipping into silence.

He fucked her harder. He fucked her softer. He begged. He wept. But she stared past him every time.

One night, he wrapped her in his tails and held her close. He kissed her so hard until her lips bled and whispered. “I’ll make you a goddess. I’ll give you tails. I’ll give you eternity. Just stay with me.”

She whispered back. “I don’t want to be anything you can keep.”

And Touya—god of flame, god of foxes, trickster and devourer of offerings— broke. Because now, even when he holds her… he can’t have her.

The last time he touched her she was still warm. Her body curled on the bed where he had once worshipped her, night after night. Where he had made her scream and cry and beg and fall silent.

But now? She was still with her eyes closed. No breath left in her lungs. No beat that had made him purr whenever he felt it under his palm and lips. No soul that shone so brightly that even a god wanted to kneel.

Touya fell to his knees. Not as a god, or as a fox. Just a being that had loved too selfishly. He begged. He kissed her lips, her throat, the place between her brows where he used to whisper his favorite lies. He called her name into the fire, and for first time the fire didn’t answer.

The fox spirits gathered outside the chamber, whispering nervously—

“She’s really gone.”

“She was just a mortal…”

“She was his heart.”

Touya stepped out, barefoot and blood-eyed. He said nothing when he killed them all. Every fox. Every sister. Every tail. He turned the temple into a pyre. Let the golden woods burn. Let the silks turn to smoke. Let the wind-chimes scream like dying stars. Let the shrine crumble to its bones.

When it was over, he carried her body to the highest point of the ruin and laid her down on a bed of ash. The twilight was still there, flickering weakly around the edges of the world. Like it didn’t know what to be anymore.

He sat beside her, and for the first time in eternity—Touya was silent.

They say he never left that spot. That the god of fire and foxes, once playful and cruel and gleaming, became a ruin himself. Stone-eyed. Covered in soot. Wrapped in the last of his nine tails. Watching over a corpse that never rotted, surrounded by a temple that never rebuilt itself.

But sometimes when the wind is quiet, when the ash settles, when the fire dies low…

A flicker appears beside him. A soft glow. A shimmer of soul. The last breath of the girl who broke his heart. She curls beside him in the soot, not quite alive, not quite gone. And though she never speaks and never smiles, he turns his head to watch her.

“Stay with me.”

And her glow stays. Forever.

[dabislittlemouse]

MEOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

💝💕💞💕💕💞💕💞💕💗

[dabislittlemouse]

a/n; nvm, dis is messy too

dabi—

tattoo artist / piercer / underground fire dancer / onlyfans

🔥 works in a dark, neon-lit studio with metal music blasting.

🔥 gives tattoos with no stencil. you trust him? he’s gonna make it sexy.

🔥 pierces tongues with zero prep, blows the needle clean with a wink.

🔥 does pyrotechnic dance shows shirtless at secret warehouse raves.

🔥 probably has an onlyfans where he just plays with fire and his fingers.

—dating him would include ;;

🔥 no appointment? doesn’t matter. he’ll ink you at midnight if you show up in his hoodie and pout at him.

🔥 “stencil’s for cowards,” he mutters, twirling the gun. “you trust me or not, baby?”

🔥 his gloves snap on and it’s all over. his voice gets husky. his hand spreads your thighs to get better access. he whispers. “breathe through it. you look real pretty when you flinch.”

🔥 he pierced your bellybutton on a dare. did your tongue when you moaned at the way he blew on the needle.

🔥 zero prep. zero warning. just that cocky smirk and, “open up for me.”

🔥 he lets you sit in his lap afterward. head dizzy, heart racing, thighs sore. his hand is on your waist. “you took it so well, angel.”

🔥 he does underground fire shows with oil-slick chains and bare skin.

shirtless. smoking. blazing.

🔥 you sit front row. you always wear short skirts. he never breaks eye contact.

🔥 after the show, he finds you in the crowd. sweaty. hyped. still glowing from the flames.

🔥 he grips your face and growls, “you like watching me play with fire?” then makes you burn for him in the back of his van.

🔥 his onlyfans bio just says: “heat kink? you’re welcome.”

🔥 every post is insane. licking fire off his fingers. letting wax drip on his chest. purring while he smokes and moans low.

🔥 he records some with you. but no one sees your face. just your hand. your thighs. your muffled cries when he says, “that’s it, sweetheart. show them who owns you.”

🔥he brings you black tulips and cherry lollipops. stolen, obviously.

🔥 he tattoos his name on your inner thigh one night while high off his ass.

🔥 “that’s mine,” he says, kissing the raw ink. “so no one gets confused.”

🔥 jealous? always. chill about it? never. he’ll kiss you and put his hand under your skirt in front of anyone who stares. “what are you lookin’ at, huh? you want a show? or just wish you were me?”

🔥 he curls around you at night like you’re the flame he can’t burn.

🔥 calls you “baby” like it’s a secret only he’s allowed to say.

🔥 lets you trace every scar, every mark, every place that once hurt.

🔥 he whispers against your neck. “you make me feel real. that should scare you.”

🔥 he’s between your thighs, whispering, “you want another one?”

🔥 you nod breathlessly and he kisses the skin he’s about to ink. slowly. wetly. like a threat.

🔥 “gotta earn it, pretty. now be still for me…” he tattoos your hipbone with one hand and fingers you with the other. the buzzing never stops and neither does he.

🔥 whenever he has you in the studio chair, no panties, skirt bunched up or pants gone.

🔥 you keep wriggling, moaning every time his hands brush you.

🔥 finally he groans and grabs your wrists. “you wanna squirm? then you can squirm tied down, sweetheart.”

🔥 five minutes later, you’re bound to the chair, head thrown back, his mouth on your thighs, tattoos half-finished. you’re soaked. he doesn’t care.

🔥 it starts with candle wax. it ends with you begging.

🔥 he melts it down slowly, eyes locked on yours the whole time.

“color safe word?”

“red.”

“good. i’m going to take you right to the edge of it.”

🔥 he drips hot wax on your chest, then licks it off. spits in your mouth and calls you his perfect little burn mark.

🔥 you’re on his lap in front of the camera. his onlyfans light glowing red.

🔥 he’s already posted a teaser: your voice moaning, your legs spread, your lips slick and swollen.

🔥 “say hi to my subscribers, baby.”

🔥 you whimper, “hi…” while he fingers you slow, showing your dripping cunt to the lens like it’s a piece of art.

🔥 he never shows your face. but your voice? he plays it on repeat.

❤️‍🔥 conclusion = that man is unhinged and toxic as fuck. he tattoos his name on your thigh, on your tit, it’s all big as a tramp stamp above your ass. he? he split his tongue so he can eat your pussy better. he prolly has your name burned into his skin. vanilla? never with him.

[dabislittlemouse]

do you ever think about how dabi and izuku are opposites in how they react to their abuse/neglect?

how izuku doesn't acknowledge anything was wrong, how his abuser isn't an abuser actually. he doesn't need an apology because he'd already forgiven bk. he's kind to the point of self-destruction because if he doesn't forgive bk and ignore his past, he's a bad person. he can't be anything other than kind. anger, resentment, those are bad emotions. it even shows with other people, like endeavor. he has to see enji as a good person, encourages shouto to forgive because shouto is kind and kind people don't hold grudges.

but dabi? he hates everyone involved in his abuse. he puts blame on people who didn't contribute at all. he lashes out at his siblings, wants them all dead. he's loud and violent and destructive. he became the villain

in the end, both of them are ignored in favour of their abusers.

[dabislittlemouse]

Need to give him a pussy job. Grinding on his shaft, smearing my wetness all over it. Teasing my hole and clit with his tip. While he grips the sheet and whimpers underneath me trying not to cum already.

[dabislittlemouse]

— This Ink’s Already Claimed 🖤

You showed up for your next tattoo session, expecting Dabi like always. But instead, it was Shigaraki behind the counter. Hood up, gloves on, red eyes flicking lazily over you.

“Dabi ran out for lunch,” he said, scratchy and flat. “Told me what you wanted. I can start the linework.”

You hesitated, because it felt like betrayal. “…Sure?”

He led you back to the chair and told you to pull your shirt up. It wasn’t flirty, just clinical, calm in the way he spoke. But Shigaraki’s hands were warm when he positioned the stencil, and he didn’t look away when your bra slipped slightly, revealing skin only Dabi had ever touched.

Still you thought it was fine, totally fine, right?

Wrong. The door slammed open, followed by heavy boots, cigarette smoke and rage. “The fuck is this?”

Your stomach dropped. Dabi stood in the doorway, bag of takeout in one hand and death in his eyes. Shigaraki didn’t even flinch.

“She said I could start.”

“I bet she did.”

Dabi threw the bag on the counter and stormed back. He shoved Shigaraki aside, grabbing your waist with eyes blazing in anger and heat.

“You let him touch you?” he snarled furious. “Let him see you?”

“Dabi—he was just starting the tattoo—”

“No. Fuck no.”

He lifted you onto the tattoo bench in one rough motion, yanked your shorts down, along with your panties.

“You wanna show him something?” he growled. “Show him this.”

You gasped as he spread your legs wide open and exposed you. Your slick cunt was on display and right in front of Shigaraki, who blinked slowly. Watching the scene unmoving and silent.

“Mine,” Dabi spat. “You understand me, creep?”

Shigaraki just licked his lips, eyes focused on your lower half. “You’re the one who left her alone. She looked real fuckin’ lonely.”

Dabi snapped. He buried his cock inside you in one brutal thrust, and you screamed. Your head tipped back against the bench, whole body rocking with the force.

“You wanna watch?” he snarled over his shoulder. “Fine. Watch how she takes me.”

You sobbed as he fucked you hard and possessive. One hand gripping your throat, the other holding your thigh open wide like he wanted Shigaraki to see every filthy second.

“She’s soaked,” Dabi hissed. “Dripping for me. You hear that?”

The wet slap of skin echoed through the room. It was slick, brutal, obscene.

“She gets this way when I mark her up. When I fuck her raw in my shop. You think you can offer her a stencil and a soft voice and she’ll forget whose cock ruined her first?”

Shigaraki tilted his head. “She didn’t say no.”

Dabi roared. He slammed into you harder and harder, and you cried out. Your eyes locked with Shigaraki’s across the room as your pussy squeezed tight around the man you belonged to.

“You like this?” Dabi growled into your ear. “Like being fucked in front of someone else? Getting ruined while another guy watches your pussy take me?”

You were sobbing, shaking, your orgasm tearing through you while Shigaraki stared, silent and still and his pants now visibly tight.

Dabi didn’t stop. He came inside you with a snarl, pulling you down onto him so deep you swore he touched your soul. Then shoved your thighs open wider so his cum could drip down your leg.

“You wanna tattoo her, freak?” he panted, voice hoarse. “You can start with tracing my load.”

Shigaraki smirked. “Maybe next time.”

[dabislittlemouse]

— Earned The Ink 🖤

The shame and embarrassment turned into you teasing him over the time. “You’ve inked half my body,” you said breathlessly, sweat still clung to your skin from the session. “Let me do one on you.”

Dabi smirked around the cigarette like it was a dare and raised a brow. “Only if you sit on my cock while you do it.”

You blinked a few times and asked if he was joking. No. He wasn’t.

The machine buzzed in your gloved hands, a little shaky. He sat in the tattoo chair, shirt discarded, jeans unzipped, cock already so hard it hurt. You straddled him with trembling thighs, trying to steady yourself against his chest while you lowered onto him slowly.

“Oh fuck—” He grunted as you sank down, head tipping back, jaw clenched tight.

Your cunt stretched around his thick shaft as you bottomed out in one unrelenting slide. You panted already and you hadn’t even touched the needle to skin yet.

He chuckled low in his chest. “What’s wrong, princess? Can’t focus?”

You slapped his chest lightly. “Shut up. Stay still.”

“You’re the one clenching around me like a fucking virgin.”

Your hands trembled worse. You positioned the stencil on his chest to tattoo something small, symbolic, just above his heart. Your artist mark. The one he told you to pick.

“Remember,” he murmured, voice like gravel and sin, “if the linework’s fucked, I’ll flip you over and make you scream into the chair until you beg to try again.”

You turned on the machine. He groaned as you adjusted your hips to get leverage. Your thighs trembling, heat soaking his cock, the machine buzzing in your grip.

The first line wobbled and you cursed.

“Try again,” he smirked up at you. “But maybe don’t grind on me this time. Kinda hard to stay steady when your pussy’s suckin’ me in like that.”

“Dabi—!”

He bucked up once and you cried out. “Mm. That sounded good. Keep going.”

You tried—god, you tried—digging the needle in as sweat dripped down your spine. Almost each part of you was soaked from the unbearable heat of him twitching inside you. Each line dragged a moan out of you. Each shift of your hips made you clench tighter.

And the asshole didn’t stop teasing.

“You’re dripping on me,” he murmured, licking the shell of your ear. “Think you can come while you ink me? Fuck up the whole piece while I’m balls-deep in you?”

Your hand slipped. The line skipped. But all he did was laugh. He didn’t care about the piece and how perfect it looked. But the memory it would hold.

“Fucked it up.”

“Dabi, please—just let me—”

“Nope.” He grabbed your hips, slammed up into you, and you screamed. “Now you’re gonna come on my cock for wasting my skin. Then you’re gonna finish the tattoo right. Got it?”

You nodded, tears in your eyes, needle trembling in your hand as he fucked into you. His thrusts were slow and brutal as he held you down like a living canvas—his little artist, his personal fucktoy, riding out her orgasm with the machine buzzing between her fingers.

And when you finally got the lines clean, the signature perfect, hands trembling as you wiped the last of the ink? He kissed you like he’d never let you go.

“Now it’s permanent,” he said. “Just like you.”

[dabislittlemouse]

— Ink Me Where It Hurts ♠️

You wanted something small, delicate and hidden. But nothing will be delicate when you met Dabi. He was all tattoos, piercings and fucked up attitude that drew people in.

“Under the breast,” you murmured, pulling the hem of your shirt up to show him the space. “Right here.”

Dabi was silent for a full beat, eyes locked on that stretch of skin. Then he looked up slowly and grinned. “Yeah,” he said. “I can do that.”

He didn’t say much while prepping. Just gloved up, pulled the stencil, told you to lie back. The chair creaked under you, the leather felt cold against your back. Your shirt was pushed up, your bra tucked out of the way. Your ribs rose and fell with every breath.

“You nervous?” he asked low, needle humming like a threat in his hand.

“A little.”

His hand settled just below your breast. Warm even through the glove. “It’s gonna hurt.”

You nodded. He didn’t start right away. Just… stared at the stretch of your stomach. The curve of your ribs. The tender skin where the ink would go.

“Stay real still for me, pretty.” The first sting made you flinch and his hand pressed firmer. “Don’t move.”

He worked slow and deliberately. Needle biting into you while his fingers curled around your ribs, steadying you.

“Doing good,” he muttered, eyes never leaving the design. “Breathing like that’s makin’ your tits bounce, though. You trying to distract me?”

“No.” You flushed.

“Mm.” His hand slid higher, thumb brushing the underside of your breast like it was part of the process. “Pretty little thing like you walkin’ in here askin’ for ink in a spot like this. Either you’re real brave or real stupid.”

You whimpered as the needle dragged deep. He leaned in, close enough to taste your skin. His hot breath ghosting over the tinted skin.

“Bet you like the pain,” he murmured. “Bet your thighs are stickin’ to the chair already.”

You were soaked and you knew he could smell it. That sweet musky scent of desire. He set the gun down mid-line, just to look at you. His turquoise eyes turned dark and his lips curled into something sinister.

“You want me to finish this or fuck you senseless first?” he asked. “’Cause I’ll do either. But I promise you, sweetheart—” He grabbed your jaw, leaned over you, with his voice like smoke and sin. “Once I’m done marking you, I’m gonna fuck you right here. Just like this. Shirt up, mouth open, ink still bleeding.”

You gasped as his pierced tongue dragged hot and wet over your nipple.

“And every time you look at it you’re gonna remember who made you cry.”

[dabislittlemouse]

oh lord- fuck this one absolutely killed me YOU DEVOURED WITH THIS ONE I AM DEADDD SEND HELP

the way i was squirming in excitement when reading all the tags before starting the fic UGHGGJG I JUST KNEW THIS WOULD BE SO GOOD- the way he is so filthy, I am losing my mind right now, I have been aching for him all day and super depraved, this fic has me on my knees begging and crying 🙏🏻 i am unwell-

OKAY but like- imagine a forbidden relationship between Dabi and you who are still a studying to become a hero (adult of course), the way your morals & ideals immediately turn to ash as you have fallen head over heels for the most dangerous villain in the country. You try so hard to not let yourself get carried away by your sinful desires…it is so so wrong.. you are about to become a hero one day, save lives, catch villains… but how can you even resist Dabi? Instead of you catching him, it’s him who has you caught in his hands, playing with you however he pleases. It may be his villain charm, or the thought of doing something you’re not supposed to do, or the way he is so obsessed with you, the way he stalks you and gets inside from your window, the way he claims you as his every single night, leaving marks on your body and deep in your soul, its a guilty pleasure you cannot stop thinking about even when you are in class, studying to become a hero in the future, but all you can think of is him. And oh boy, how much he enjoys that… the way he has crawled so deep into your heart and mind even your ideals and morals have started to change, a soon-to-be-hero is now in fact a soon-to -be villain’s wife~

(This is somehow a request so you can TOTALLY write something out of this if you want, bc i absolutely LOVE your writing and your ideas so so much🙏🏻 make it as smutty and filthy as you wish teehee)

ᱬ⛧ good girl goes bad ~ dabi

pairing: dabi x soon-to-be hero! female reader

content: 18+ mdni. forbidden romance/relationship trope, p in v, fingering, blowjob, handjob, cum stuffing, marking, pet names, reader gets called/calls self whore && slut (not in demeaning terms), dirty talk, implied breeding want, implied multiple rounds, implied different positions, mating press briefly mentioned, mention of creampie if you squint, mention of bleeding, videos/photos being taken, dry humping, hair pulling, ruined makeup, orgasm denial, general NSFW content

word count: 3.2k

links: request masterlist | bnha/mha masterlist | masterlist

a/n: it's not even ovulation week for me, i have no idea where i've pumped this out from but this guy, he has me so fucking weak. another request from one of my beautiful moots. i hope i've satisfied the itch you have b, my love! as always likes, comments and re-blogs are deeply appreciated!

Letting a sigh pass your lips, you tapped the tip of your pen against the page as you listened to the dreary lecture from a teacher you were sure should be long gone by now.

Everything seemed so mundane lately, especially since he found his way into your life.

One minute, you were living life as normal, a promising young hero in the making who upheld every single ideology of what it meant to be a hero. The next minute, you found yourself on the end of a run-in with a villain.

Not just any villain - the infamous blue flame himself, Dabi.

You weren't meant to be at the store that day, but your alarm, which didn't go off, caused a chain reaction. Eyes widened in horror as you saw him standing there, flames of blue ready to be fired off at any second. Yet there was something about him that made you stop in your tracks.

Something that made your heart beat in a way you never felt before.

Suddenly, the very thought of being a hero, someone who saved lives and wore a smile on their face, was burning in front of you. Turned into ash at the sight of him.

How the very thought of his name made you shiver. Not in a bad way, but in the way that you knew he'd enjoy if he saw you right now. Surely it wasn't too long before class was finished, right?

At the sound of the bell, you quickly packed up your stuff, rushing out the door with a quick wave. You had to get home, get yourself away from everything, and be back in the safety net of your home. Well, at least that's what everyone else thought.

Passing an alley not too far from your university, you took a moment to look around before dipping in, breathing out in relief. Dropping your bag, you leant against the wall and ran a hand through your hair. "Now, who do we have here?".

At the sound of the voice, you cast your gaze to the side and smiled, eyes following the figure as it stalked towards you. A small part of you told you to run, to get away, but why would you? "I knew you were around here, you never could leave me to attend class on my own, could you?".

Clicking their tongue, the figure stopped in front of you, towering as they leaned forward, pressing you further into the wall. "What can I say, doll, I've always been in the pretty little mind of yours".

Letting a hum pass your lips, you wrapped your arms around their neck and pulled them to you, lips inches apart. "That maybe true, but we both know it's rather you'd be in this cunt of mine instead, Dabi".

"Bold today aren't we, sweetheart? Well, if that's what you want, then who am I to deny that?".

The gap between you both closed as he pressed a rough kiss to your lips, hands trailing down your sides as he lifted you up, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer to you.

Moans sounded as you moved your hips, grinding against his clothed cock as you felt it grow harder. Breaking the kiss to pant as thoughts of having him deep within you made you clench around nothing. "So desperate already and I haven't even touched your pretty little pussy yet".

Whining out, you attempted to pull him closer, only to have him smirk, legs dropping to the floor as he stepped away from you. "As much as I'd love to ruin you in public for everyone to see...". Leaning down, hot breath blew across your ear as you shivered. "... That's a side of you only I get to see, doll".

Standing back, Dabi took a moment to look over you, lips parted as you panted. Smirking, he stretched his hand before sending a quick flash of his quirk off to the side, the sound of screams echoing as you mirrored his smirk. "You know what to do, I'll see you tonight".

Within the blink of an eye, he was gone. Disappeared like he wasn't there. Letting your head drop against the wall, you sighed out as you tried to calm yourself enough to be able to walk back out into the street.

You were a mess. You were supposed to be a hero in training, supposed to save lives and fight against villains like Dabi. Except, ever since that day at the store, he'd found his way into your life.

It started with small things like noticing the tails of his dark blue overcoat and his turquoise eyes piercing the darkest of areas as they followed you. To noticing flickers of his blue flames whenever you were on your own, calling cards that he was mere metres from you at all times.

Then came the first time he dared to enter your home. You hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary at first until you stood in front of your mirror, towel wrapped around your body as you prepared to get yourself dressed.

Those eyes that you caught in the mirror made you spin around just in time to be dragged to the floor with a yelp. Your eyes widened as you looked at the villain kneeling before you. All it took was one look and one kiss before you were his. Marked in a way no one else would ever get to touch you. Body and soul marked as his and his alone.

Something that would soon become a nightly event. Even when he was busy, he always made time for you. Time to have you lost in the throes of pleasure at his very hands.

You needed to get home, you needed to calm down. The clicking of your door a welcome sound once you closed it.

Lying on your bed, you hummed and flicked through your phone, replying to messages from your friends whenever they popped on the screen. Tonight was yet another night you opted to stay in instead of being out. Saying you weren't feeling well when in reality, you were waiting. Waiting for the moment he'd show up.

The heavy thudding of boots on your floor made you smile, locking your phone and throwing it to the side as you sat up, eyes trailing over the body of the male standing before you. "God, you don't know how much I need you, Dabi".

Clothes were soon scattered across the room, some pieces whole while others were ripped and thrown carelessly as you were dragged to kneel on the floor. Right now, you didn't care if you had to replace an item of clothing; you were too far gone to even care.

Looking up through your eyelashes, you smirked before gripping hold of Dabi's cock, pumping it a few times as you placed a sweet kiss on his mushroom tip. The low moan rumbling in his throat made you throb as you began to drag the tip of your tongue down the underside of him. "Fuck, doll, you're so greedy for my cock aren't you".

Humming out, you continued to drag your tongue over him a few more times before pulling back, hand still pumping as you parted your legs, allowing your free hand to slip between your thighs. "I'm addicted and you know that. I should be playing the role of a good little hero yet here I am, on my knees for you like a needy little slut".

Gathering your saliva in your mouth, you spat it onto the top of his cock and used your hand to spread it. It only took a moment before you felt your hair being grabbed, your mouth forced open as he pressed his hips forward.

Your eyes rolled back as you felt him hit the back of your throat, eyes beginning to water as he used your mouth like his personal fuck toy. His hips continued to rut him deep as you gagged, drool slipping down your chin that matched the tears rolling down your cheeks, makeup slowly being ruined as you looked up through glassy eyes. "Such a needy bitch, touch that pretty pussy for me or this is as far as I'll go".

Trying to agree, you rubbed the pad of your finger against your clit as you chocked on a moan, eyes fluttering shut the harder you pressed. "I want to feel your throat as you sink those fingers of yours in that cunt. Do it or I'll stop. We both know that's not what we want. Is it, sweetheart?".

A small whine left your throat as you tried to protest, beg him not to but as you felt him start to slip from your throat, you let your fingers slip south pressing briefly before slipping them into your eager cunt.

Of course, they weren't Dabi's fingers, but you were slowly losing your sanity, and if he said to jump, you were going to do anything he wanted.

Closing your eyes, you furrowed your brows as you moaned out, once again gagging on the cock hitting the back of your throat. "Fuck, that's a good girl". God, how you loved how his voice dropped an octave or two. You loved how you had this effect on him.

The grip on your hair tightened as you felt your head being moved, Dabi's hip rutting harshly until you felt him twitch. A deep groan left his lip as he kept you in place, emptying every ounce of his cum down your eager throat as you swallowed. With a satisfied sigh, he pulled from you, air flooding your lungs you as panted heavily, fingers still working your cunt as he looked down at you.

He looked so intimidating yet beautiful at the same time.

Tilting your head, you bit your lip as you reached out to him, voice hoarse as you begged him to help you. "Please, Dabi, I need you". Closing your eyes, you let a moan slip from your parted lips as you began to scissor your fingers, feeling that tingling begging to spread throughout your body.

Only for it to be cruelly ripped away as you felt your arm being tugged, fingers slipping out as you whimpered. Within seconds, you found yourself face down on the mattress, fingers gripping the sheets as you whined out. "Just look at the pretty pussy of your baby, just as needy as you".

Before you had a chance to retort, to turn your gaze to him, you felt his long fingers press at your wet hole, rubbing circles before sinking knuckles deep and tapping against that spongy spot deep within. "Fuck, Dabi, yes, hah, yes".

Pressing your face further into the mattress, you closed your eyes as you rocked your hips, helping him press deeper. Desperately fucking yourself on his fingers as the wet sloshing noises gained volume. "Such a needy little hero".

You didn't care; you were nearly there. At that beautiful feeling of euphoria that would spread throughout your body. You know the villain behind you could feel it too, harsh slaps on the flash of your behind stung, adding to the building pressure that was about to explode.

Only it never came, slender fingers slipped out just before you felt that release. A whine of desperation sounded as you panted, walls clenching around nothing. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw Dabi raise his hand, examining the way your slick glistened in the light before he slipped them into his mouth. Moaning deeply at your taste as he licked his fingers clean.

Opening your mouth, you were about to ask him what the fuck he was playing at, only to have your breath hitch in your throat as you felt him push his cock into you, stretching your walls as you gasped out.

All it took was the mushroom tip of his cock to press against that spongy spot for your body to stiffen, your mouth agape as a needy moan sounded. All it took was for Dabi to push into you for that beautiful euphoria to rip throughout your body, and it felt amazing.

"Did you just come from my cock entering you? You are a needy little cock sleeve, aren't you?". Of course, you were, he knew that, especially when he began to snap his hips, fucking you through your high. The obscene sounds of your wet cunt egging him as he pressed your face further into the mattress.

You were powerless against him, and try as you might, you didn't care.

It wasn't long before you felt a hand snake around your throat, squeezing slightly before another hand tugged at your arm, pulling your body upright, back pressed firmly against his chest. Staples digging in, adding the pleasure you felt.

The change of position had his cock pressing deeper in you, head lolling back as you whimpered, desperate for him to destroy you in any way he saw fit. "Fuck, Dabi, so deep, hah, need to feel so full".

"All in good time doll, let me mark you first then I'll stuff you so full of my cum, you'll be dripping me for days".

The very thought made you clench around him. Eyes rolling as he began sucking the skin on your neck. The saltiness a welcome taste as he sucked harder, being sure to mark you skin in a way only he got to. In a way that made him feel how your cunt squeezed him tighter.

Dropping the hand from your neck, he brought it to the front of your body, toying with your breast. Nipple being rolled between the pinch of his fingers as your back arched, pushing your chest further into his grip as you rutted your hips in time with him.

His other hand snaked further down your torso, resting above the area he could feel the head of his cock thumping against. Feeling the small bump it created each time he thrusted into you. Fingers soon trailing down to split open your already stretched cunt.

The small droplets he could see flying out made him smirk against your neck, tongue licking the marks he left. "Shit, such a pretty little fucking pussy. Like it was made just f'me".

You didn't know how long he'd been fucking into you, dragging your body in different positions until you felt him picking up the pace.

Folded in half, you gripped onto the arms that caged you as you tried to arch your back. Desperate moans slipping past your lips with a chant of his name. A mantra of you begging him to stuff you so full. That you didn't care if he bred you, didn't care if you ended up round with his child. You wanted every part of him.

That's all it took for Dabi to snap, letting your legs drop as he quickly pulled out of you, only to press his cock back into your desperate cunt. That's all it took for him to lean down and catch your lips in a messy kiss. Tongues fighting and drool seeping out as he pounded relentlessly.

And all it took was for you to break the desperate kiss with a broken cry of his name, the walls of your cunt spasming as you squirted over his cock and thighs, dragging your nails down the skin of his back for his hips to slam to a stop. Cock twitching as he spilt his seed deep into you, flooding your womb and soul.

Marking you as his and his alone for the nth time since meeting him.

Head falling back on the bed, you panted heavily as you tried to calm your erratic heart, breathing slowly returning to normal. The weight you expected to feel beside you never happened. Raising your brow, you tried to shift only for another moan to slip past your parted lips.

"Oh my sweet doll, thought I'd let you rest...". The way his fingers began to curl, tapping against your overstimulated g-spot had your mind going blank. "...I'm just getting started. I'm not stopping until you and your cunt are conditioned for me and only me, baby".

And true to his word, Dabi didn't stop. Not when you pulled his hair as he swiped his tongue against your puffy pussy, devouring you like you were his last meal. Not when your legs were shaking, throat sore from the noises he dragged out of you.

Not even when you caused his skin to bled from dragging your nails over him when he fucked you again, emptying more of his seed deep within you. When he watched the way his cum slipped out of you, fingers bullying it back in as he grabbed your phone, snapping photos and videos that would serve as a reminder of who you belonged to.

Sure, you were meant to be a hero. Sweet and loyal, always there to help people in danger from the evil in the world. Spending hours in a classroom listening to lectures after lectures, watching video after video and training nonstop.

Sure, you were meant to be a hero whose mind wasn't swayed when you found yourself in front of a villain.

Except your reality began to shift not long after the event at the store. The morals and values you held so highly slowly crashed down until they were in flames.

Classes soon felt boring, the need to feel the thrill you're used to overtook any rational thinking you had. The very idea of Dabi infecting every part of your soul.

Your morals soon began to change, and you felt hatred towards the very people who had sworn to protect society. Surely, if they were to protect society, that would mean the outcasts they liked to call villains.

They were people who also needed saving, even if they had done terrible things. Even if they hurt people, they had their reasons.

Of course, people thought you were crazy, almost likening you to the hero killer stain at one point, but you didn't care. Especially when you had the most dangerous villain in the county at your side.

Especially when that villain was more to you than anyone had realised.

Only when they realised you'd fallen for the blue flame villain it was too late.

You were love drunk for him, an easily corrupt little hero who fell a little too hard for him, a forbidden relationship that was so sickly sweet. And for that, he loved you even more. You held a place in both his life and heart that no one else would ever get.

What made the corruption even more beautiful to him was the way everyone looked when they caught a glimpse of your hand. More specifically, your ring finger. The way that stone shone, it had to be stolen.

Not that you cared one bit.

After all was said and done, after you were done being pinned and fucked senseless night after night, he was the only thing that mattered in your life.

Everyone knew who you belonged to. Heart, body, mind and soul.

Everyone soon came to learn that you, the soon-to-be hero, had opted for a change in your life.

To be the soon-to-be wife of the most dangerous villain in all of Japan. A villain that would burn the very world to see you smile, stuffing you so full of his cock in the ashes and embers of his crimes.

A duo that would be a force to be reckoned with.

A duo that would soon have most of Japan at their feet.

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@lousypotatoes

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[dabislittlemouse]

Guys i need Dabi in the filthiest way possible its not even funny anymore what do i do with all this craving